#but even with the current campaign if you have the right people on your dash who you can talk to and agree with

[revvethasmythh]

That Specific Take TM is part of what led me to stop watching critical role entirely. Wouldn’t go so far as calling myself a “stan” of Nott, but I adored her. And I adored her progression into being comfortable with being Veth. But it feels like people see what they want to see far more than they see the character that’s been portrayed… TLDR I sympathize entirely, it’s kind of miserable to know so many people dislike characters you find very compelling for how they are portrayed simply because they are misinterpreting that portrayal at a rather fundamental level!

I actually do not think a take like that stems from dislike! Misinterpretation, yes, but misinterpretation is not always connected to disliking a character. Like, as many insane and wrong takes I've seen about Orym that have popped up during c3, the OPs of those posts often do not necessarily dislike Orym (at least, so they say). They just have a particular perspective that is not, uh, correct if you actually engage with the textual evidence. I think re: this take in particular, it really does come from a sense of disappointment that the dynamic between Nott and Caleb didn't maintain course, that the Veth reveal did irrevocably alter the dynamic.

Which--okay, there's a lot going on with that, and I think people who were overly attached to the "dynamic" over the individual characters involved tend toward Caleb-specific fans (hence how he's the listless sad boi of the post, the queer neurodivergent guy, while Veth is cast as a flat perfectly happy straight neurotypical woman (that was painful even just to write, but that is what the post is positing), and ignorant of all of Caleb's sad boi feelings--which of those descriptions is going to be more relatable/sympathetic to your average tumblr user, you know?), and if you were to track fandom engagement with Nott as a character, I feel like you would find a significant drop-off of investment in her after the Veth reveal. Because she yelled at Caleb, she altered the dynamic, her story separated from his story, she moved away from him narratively, and when the focus was placed more fully on herself and her character details, I suspect a lot of people drifted away from her. Because Nott was Caleb's funny sidekick and qpr and loving mother all rolled into one, and it's just not the same if she is a married woman, a mother, with goals of her own that may--and do--cause her to shift away from her very tight relationship with Caleb. In the eyes of a lot of people, she was there to serve at the altar of the dynamic, and her role was to support Caleb. Breaking the dynamic is a cardinal sin--it's similar to the way some people react so weirdly to the Nein all splitting ways after the finale. There's that deep attachment to The Dynamic, the Found Family, that rifts and conflicts and alterations to the dynamic are distressing to people and they'll come up with similarly incorrect metas full of projections and act like they're canon as a reaction to that.

So, instead of "dislike", I think perhaps the better word to sub in there is "disinterest." If people cleave so strongly to the original representation of the dynamic, when alterations to it are made they are disinterested in letting themselves be invested in, think deeply about, and care for the new dynamics created, because they're too tethered to a thing that was already lost--OR never really existed the way they're imaging to begin with.

#also I'm sorry bad take like these made you drop the show! #stepping back from fandom can sometimes be necessary to really enjoying the media #I was lucky to have about 85-90 episode of the second campaign to watch on my own w/o fandom before getting involved #which I think was overall a good thing #but even with the current campaign if you have the right people on your dash who you can talk to and agree with #it makes the bad takes feel a lot more like background noise. annoying background noise yeah but stuff you can ignore ultimately #anyway I hope this response was on topic because it kind of felt like I was but also like I was not I really can't tell #oh also re: wondering if fandom engaged less w/veth after 47--that's speculation #informed speculation but I--as previously stated--was not involved in the fandom at the time #so I'm not sure exactly how it shook out when those eps were airing #retrospectively I think it is true that people are less interested in veth than they were with nott though #which is where my point stands #anon #asks

[alwaysxyou]

Always interested in your full posts on pr, marketing and english literature (lol). Please, allow your education to class up our dashes a bit!

so i don't work on either of these movies so this could be totally wrong, but i think the biggest thing that's causing frustration is that it seems like mp is being ignored and not given the campaign that dwd got. but in my opinion, that's not the right way to look at it because the campaigns seem to be very clearly designed for different goals.

dwd the goal is consumer and sales. butts in seats, get people to go to the theater and buy a ticket. no immediate streaming option, and all press was focused on trying to build buzz around the movie premiering so people would buy tickets (which based on what we know about the narcissist's deal where the more the movie makes the more money she makes, that makes sense to me). this is done through big public events with talent, shown in all major theaters, large marketing spend, pr stunts to keep it in tabloids.... get people to buy a ticket to see the movie. box office is SUPER important in this case.

my policeman the goal is awards. the box office return for premiere is not the big goal here - it's to get awards buzz and nominations. and it's doing this through positioning itself as an arthouse movie. arthouse movies and indie movies and those types of movies draw huge crowds of voters. the industry that votes for guild awards, the academy members, etc - they see the blockbusters and mainstream. but they focus on the arthouse releases. that's why you're not seeing it being released widely in your amc and regal theaters. they are being very selective about which theaters it goes to, to help build the reputation (plus they need to show it in certain amounts of theaters in NY and LA to be eligible for awards) and then it's going to be on streaming for the general public. that's why it's in so many film festivals - those are voters and the people who influence the awards races. word of mouth spreads that the movie is very well done, and the people who vote start to listen.

and that's why except for certain things, it looks like the campaign has barely happened. cause it hasn't. i was just talking to someone yesterday about certain movies that are currently listed at the top of the oscars prediction lists, and laughing cause you never want to be at the top in october. no one has seen enough yet and it's so likely things will fall as critics and awards people see more. hell as it shows with mp a ton of the movies aren't released yet - they're still in prescreening stages. you want to be on the top in january and february.

and when you have hugely in demand talent - and by that i mean literally with busy schedules demand - you use them in the way that's most effective, knowing your time is limited. that's why harry carved out time in his tour for TIFF. that's so important for him to go in person. i imagine we'll see more things like that start to pop up throughout the fall and winter months.

on that note - we'll probably also see events with other cast and no harry. that's a very good and very strategic thing! the more you can separate the notion of "this is a movie only for harry fans" the better it will do from an awards standpoint. (as opposed to dwd which needed the harry fan support for box office, making sure it was on hshq newsletters, etc) so when you add harry back into events, the people who are important to the race are taking the film seriously and are looking forward to hearing harry talk about the film as one of the main actors, and not hearing Harry StylesTM talk about it. i do think that the entire cast will have to put in the work if they want it to breakthrough and get noms, so im looking forward to seeing what they use them for coming up.

you're also seeing quite a bit of a break in between dwd and mp promo. i think that was a pointed adjustment after the dwd circus blew up even more than expected due to the shia matters. i think they had probably been planning to piggy back (talk shows tied to dwd but he gets to talk about mp, promo in the middle, etc. the timing was planned too close to be accidental) but there has definitely been a separation now. thank god. it's to help keep the seriousness around my policeman and not make it just a footnote in the dwd drama.

#i see mp next week and im very excited to see it in general #but also to form my opinions on how i think it'll stack up in the race #im still so glad h/d/e are being submitted as supporting #that's a much more appropriate field for them to try for #anywho those are me thoughts on the mp campaign so far #excited to see what they use harry for and where it goes #asks #anon #hs #mp

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Soo I was thinking ... (that's dangerous, right?😂) ... Bucky x plussize!reader drabble? Reader gets hella insecure because of the people that show interest in buck, and she feels she doesnt deserve him. Bucky showing reader exactly why she's perfect for him. Only him.

TY💋

Oooh. Some Bucky now. I hope you don’t mind that I changed the request a bit to be more general for anyone who experiences body insecurities. Thank you, love! ❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of insecurities, some angst, some flirting, mostly just warm fluff

Word Count: 1k+ (got away from me a bit)

The media campaign was meant for the public to see the former Winter Soldier in a more favorable light. He had a dark past that he was trying to atone for, but he was also an Avenger now and it wouldn’t do to have one of Earth’s Mightiest be shunned in public. It took a lot of strategic public appearances and documented missions, but finally the world saw him more than just what the history books said. It worked.

Perhaps too well.

Bucky was a handsome man. Add to that the fact that he was a superhero, a wounded bird narrative, and a bad boy persona by default and you have yourself a chick magnet. You were grateful that you could now walk into a coffee shop with your boyfriend without someone shouting hate at him, but you were also feeling the weight of having to share him so much now.

Sharing him like you were currently as you nursed a champagne flute in the corner of the lavishly decorated room that was hosting one of Tony’s charity galas. You watched him as Pepper took him around to introduce him to some people, encouraging him to mingle and build his good reputation. You followed him with your eyes as you stood forgotten at your table, trying not to let your dark thoughts get the better of you when you saw elegantly dressed ladies fawning over your soldier.

Your soldier. Your Bucky.

You always thought that you had your own beauty, a personality and a look that was attractive. You had confidence in yourself and Bucky had never given you any reason to think anything less of yourself. The thought of him being out of your league never really crossed your mind because it was always just you and Bucky.

Until now.

Suddenly the women of New York found him magnetic and right now you couldn’t help but think that any one of those giggling girls crowded around him looked miles better than you did. They looked like they were ready to step onto a magazine cover. No photoshop needed. You couldn’t help but think that they would look much better hanging onto his arm and as his date to fancy parties like this. Perhaps he might even prefer someone who could relate better to him, someone who was a super too.

You sighed as you took your drink out to the balcony, your many insecurities about yourself swirling in your mind. Should you start joining a gym? Maybe eat less. Eat more? Maybe get a career that was more impressive. Do more charity work. Plastic surgery? Sign up for enhancements? You were pressuring yourself to improve yourself so that you could keep his affections from straying because now Bucky had his choice of women and you didn’t feel confident that he would still choose you.

“Been lookin’ all over for you, doll.”

You were jolted from your miserable thoughts by Bucky, smiling fondly at you from the doorway in his blue suit that just made him look incredibly dashing. He looked so happy from what you assumed was the attentions of several women, that you couldn’t help the tears welling in your eyes. Immediately alarmed at your distress, he rushed over to you and cupped your face in his hands.

“Hey. What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he said softly, forcing your chin up to meet his eyes. You winced at the endearment and shook your head, but he was insistent. “No. Tell me what’s wrong? What can I fix?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Not if it’s making my girl this upset. Tell me,” he said, brushing his lips against your nose to help reassure you. Your face burned as you admitted what you had been thinking. At the end of it you were embarrassed at acting so weak, at being so self conscious. You felt so small and insignificant.

“We’re going home,” he said firmly. “Right now.”

“We can’t, Buck. This is important press for you.”

“Not as important as you are and clearly I’ve been doing a shit job at making sure you know that.”

“Bucky,” you tried to protest but he wasn’t having it. He took both your hands and pressed them to his lips, all the while keeping his eyes locked with yours.

“You think anyone in that room measures up to you? Hell, anyone in the world?” he said, the love he had for you shining in his eyes. “No one makes me feel like a real person like you do. No one’s touch grounds me like yours does. No one’s laughter makes me feel like I just won the lottery like yours does.”

“It was stupid,” you said, trying to make him stop because you didn’t know how to take these kinds of complements. “I just thought they were so perfect and beautiful next to you. Much better than how I look.”

He scoffed and took your hand to slide beneath his loosened dress shirt to land right above the scarred marring where his shoulder met his metal appendage. You frowned, understanding what he was saying. He wasn’t perfect either.

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, smiling at you. “You love me, scars and nightmares included. You see a broken man and you still love me. You don’t seem to see my imperfections, doll. You just see me.”

Again he held your face gently, his thumbs wiping away traces of your tears. The way he was looking at you was like you were the only thing good in his life. You were the only thing he wanted in this life. You are and would always be enough.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m the same way with you?”

He kissed you then, pouring all his genuine sentiments into the action. Your heart soared as you felt it, the tears falling from your tears now were of relief and gratitude at having such a wonderful man.

“Now, we’re going home so that I can worship every inch of you until there’s no more doubt left in your mind,” he mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip and sending shivers down your spine at his heated promise. “It will probably take all night, but I’m up for it.”

“But they haven’t even served dinner yet. Pepper will be upset.”

“Screw that,” he said, tossing a devilish wink at you before he began tugging you by the hand toward the car. “There’s something else I wanna eat, doll.”

#cassie does drabbles #drabble requests #bucky barnes x reader #cassie answers #asks and replies #bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabbles

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Game Master Akuma AU by  crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

[sunflowerstache]

the one where you’re Harry’s tailor

@theasstour​ and I have been stewing in this idea for nearly a year and it’s finally come together.. we hope you enjoy x.

Word Count: 25.6k | Warning(s): explicit language, alcohol, sexual content

NORA’S MASTERLIST  |  SARAH’S MASTERLIST

There were few moments in life that would equate to being backstage at a fashion show, simply because it was impossible to string together the specific words needed to describe the feeling. Journalists tried, quickly scribbling down thoughts and plans for their future articles in small notepads, while the professionals around them danced about in unspoken, yet somehow synchronized, movements. How would they be able to accurately depict the feeling of fabrics rubbing together between your fingers, in the most comforting way? The almost deafening sound of sewing pins carelessly being dropped on the table, after fixing a foot sized hole in a pair of trousers moments before showtime. Or how, with the amount of people crammed into the room, mixed with the humid Roman air seeping through the open windows, had sweat continuously dripped from your forehead. Yet, there was still a constant shiver running up your spine with nerves. No matter how valiant of an attempt, unless they were watching their own tailored outfits walk down the runway, their written words would never be exactly right.

Even after four years working for Gucci, perfecting hundreds of articles of clothing, clothing that was held on such a high pedestal in the fashion industry, the nerves never settled. Not when Alessandro immediately hired you at the end of your University placement, or when you were asked to accompany him in the closing walk during last year’s Cruise Show. But all of those monumental achievements paled in comparison to the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach when you were crouched in front of your current canvas, Gucci’s newest runway model for the 2020 Cruise Fashion Show; Harry Styles.

He was making his runway debut wearing Look 51, something you’d taken notice was not too far away from his new wardrobe when you first opened his folder. The wide legged pants were crafted from fine dots patterned blue wool, a single red pin stripe running from the hip, all the way down to the ankle. They were finished with minor details, ones not many people would take notice to, but ones that made your heart race with excitement; hidden horn buttons, front slash pockets, viscose inner lining, and an interior silk belt, all of which were hidden by his coat. Green, red, and blue stripes defined the knee length coat, appearing to crease where the four pockets sat; two at his groin and two more just at the breasts, the left pocket holding Lyre ‘Pas de Rumeur’ crest patch. Barely visible under the wool coat, peaked out a blazer identically matching the pants, only the buttons and red piping could be seen, but you knew what would be hidden to onlookers; an orange lion embroidered onto the upper left breast pocket, the hand stitched word ‘Gucci’ sitting under it’s paws in black thread, and a baby blue silk inside - a fabric that no doubt felt great against Harry’s white tank top covered torso. The rest of his look consisted of minor accessories that brought the look together; a red barrie that had the signature double G’s embroidered in green thread, a pair of crocheted black fingerless gloves, and maroon quilted leather slide sandals, complete with the interlocking G horsebit. The subtle jewelry on his body was a stark contrast to his usual ring clad fingers, now only having a few delicate necklaces rest against his bare chest. He was a sight to be seen, someone who would surely grab attention as he made his way through the dark museum runway.

“Quit moving, or you’ll end up with a pin in your bum.” you mumbled, on your knees behind Harry and quickly fixing a tear in the rear left pants pocket before he was ushered out onto the runway.

The two of you were in the farthest corner of the back dressing room, away from most of the hustle and bustle of all other models, so that you could grab the emergency sewing kit, filled with all colors of thread, baby scissors, hundreds of pins, and even super glue, from your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, Alessandro could be seen weaving through the room, triple checking that each and every outfit was completed in the exact way he had envisioned. There wasn’t much time before all models were set to step foot on the Musei Capitolini floor, and the last minute nerves were finally setting in.

“Sorry, can’t help it. Never done this before, you know.” his voice was muffled by not only the chatter of the room, but also the constant picking of his lip.

“Still can’t believe you’re actually doing it, if I’m honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you chuckled, giving the bum pocket a couple tugs to make sure it wouldn’t come undone again, before moving to stand directly in front of him. “You cut yourself the first time we met, ripped your trousers at the first shoot, and fell off a stone wall in the new campaign. You’re not exactly the most graceful lad at times.”

“In my defense, no one told me not to get on that wall.” Harry paused a moment, holding his hand out for you to place the pin cushion while you reorganized your bag,  “Can’t believe we only met a few years ago. Feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Without any hesitation, you nodded in agreement.

You couldn’t really remember the exact date you first met Harry. All you remember is it had been February 2018 and raining - very hard at that - and when you entered the Gucci store on Bond Street in London, your umbrella had been torn to shreds because of the wind, and your hands felt like ice after having been attacked by the raging storm outside. Alessandro had been upstairs in one of the offices, three huge white boards before him with the different campaigns he was planning at the time. Humming along to Malafemmena by Roberto Murolo playing from the speakers on his desk, Alessandro traced a finger over the fabric hanging from the wall beside the boards. You knew those were the fabrics you were going to be using today, your boss having hung them forth so it would be easier for you to work.

“Morning.” You had said, taking your jacket off and placing it on the hanger. “Absolutely horrendous outside.”

“Hmm,” mused Alessandro, tilting his head to take the grey fabric in before he looked over at you making your way over. “Always like that in England.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the different colours, materials and patterns you were going to use for the new looks. “You’re not wrong.”

Alessandro giggled, looking over his shoulder for a single second.

“Either pouring rain or it’s drizzling.” You said, studying the different designs of each of the suits you would be making over the next few months. “Right annoying when you don’t even want to be here.”

He laughed again, turning around to look at the boards you assumed.

“I’m being serious.” You reached for the fabric your boss had been checking out when you arrived. “Who would choose to live in a country where it constantly rains?”

“Didn’t really have a choice most of my life,” came a voice from behind you and you instantly stopped dead in your tracks. “Can’t really control where we are born, can we?”

Slowly, you turned to see one of Alessandro’s dearest friends: Harry Styles. He was sitting in the brown leather sofa right behind you, a sofa you knew was there from having been in Alessandro’s London office multiple times before, but hadn’t thought to give a second look. You would assume Harry would have someone there with him, like some assistant or manager or… anyone, but Harry was sitting there all alone, looking over at you with this cheeky grin on his face that had your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t a shock for him to be here alone, you thought after a second, as Harry and Alessandro spent loads of time together usually so this was just another normal hang-out for them. You, on the other hand, had never met Harry Styles before. This was your first time being in his company. And so far – you had to be honest with yourself – you weren’t looking very good. Grumpy, soaked through, and with a dash of dishevelled everything, you no doubt looked like a person no one wanted anything to do with. Harry clearly found it very amusing how little you liked being in England. Also most definitely found it funny how startled you were at his sudden utterance. You watched as he got up from the sofa, walking over to you as Alessandro also came to sight again.

“Il mio amore,” Alessandro said. “This is Harry.”

You zoned out entirely, the whole situation too surreal. Though you had been born and brought up in England, there was just something about the constant rain that made not only your mood drop, but your skin sticky and hands clammy. So when Harry reached a hand out to shake yours after Alessandro had told Harry your name and introduced you, red lights and a loud alarm started going off in your head. He would have to feel just how bad the effect of the bloody terrible English weather had on you. But not shaking his hand would be weird and impolite. His hand was between the two of you, open and ready for yours. It stood there for a few seconds. And you just looked at it. Quickly realising that not shaking his hand would probably be more awkward than doing so with a sweaty palm, you took his. A breathy giggle left Harry’s lips as your hands met. You let his go, looking over at Alessandro who was giving you a weird look while you heard the slap of Harry’s hand against his thigh in the background.

“Measurements.” Alessandro said, trying to move on from the awkward situation you had just caused. All the blood in your body rushed to the surface of your skin, instantly heating you up. You glanced to the ground, hoping Harry didn’t notice how flustered you just got. Walking to your bag, you took out your notebook and measurement tape. “Glorious, mio caro.”

Getting your pen, you walked over to the board for the Gucci Autumn/Winter Campaign. There were five different suits for this one, a couple of more for the next, and then three for the last one. From the way Alessandro had left some space at the bottom of the last board, it was clear he would be working even more with Harry in the future, they just did not know exactly what or when yet. Someone cleared their throat beside you and you whipped your head to your left to see Alessandro pointing to the different suits on the board.

“These today.” He said, pointing to the specific details he wanted and instructions on where they would be loose and not. “I need to go to a meeting, but you two will be fine on your own. You have a lot in common.”

You frowned, watching as Alessandro walked toward his desk, picking up a huge binder and resting it under his arm. “Have a lot in common?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “You do.”

“Like…?”

Alessandro only gestured with his hands for the two of you to get talking, and then he disappeared out the door, shutting it behind him. Dettagli - Detalhes by Ornella Vanoni played lowly as the quiet between the two of you filled the room and made it troublesome to breathe properly. A great stream of anxiety suddenly took over and you suddenly felt very awkward. Obvious from the way Alessandro had left in such a hurry and the way he had left with that grin, you knew there was underlying expectations to this encounter. There were multiple reasons why Alessandro had called you to come help him. You didn’t want to think about that, though, because that only made absolutely everything ten times more embarrassing.

“Lovely,” Harry looked over at you from staring at the door Alessandro had kicked closed, standing confidently in his green and white striped tee shirt over his loose light denim jeans. “Likes a dramatic entrance and exit, that one.”

You huffed through your nose, walking over to the board to look at the details once more. Harry only watched you, a bit unsure of what to do next. The rain fell against the windows, creating a lulling sound to go with the Italian music still swaying through the room. The white walls, tall ceiling, and Victorian look of the room only made it feel like you two were actually in Italy. His phone vibrated from the sofa with an incoming text, only giving it a quick look over his shoulder until you wandered over to your bag again. Whipping your glasses out, you hung them from the collar of your white tee shirt before walking back over to Harry.

Quickly, and maybe a bit too loudly, you cleared your throat. “Are you ticklish?”

Taken a bit off guard, Harry blinked twice. “Only armpits and backs of my knees.”

“Right.” You nodded your head, hooking your measurement tape around your neck. “Stand still, back straight.”

Harry listened to you, biting the side of his lip as you pressed your ring and index finger to your sternum in concentration. Eyes following you as you started walking around his figure, getting a good look at everything before you stood before him again.

“Clothes too loose?” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” You said, taking your tape back in your hands again. An instrumental version of ‘O Sole Mio by Jack Jezzro started playing just as the rain outside threw itself more forcefully against the windows, but you tried not to pay notice to anything but what was going on before you. You had no idea why you were nervous. Plenty of times before, you had worked with other celebrities; tailoring their suits, dresses and whatnots. For some reason, however, this felt different. Harry was so close to Alessandro, so the notion that the two of you would get along just as well filled you with anxiety, and a hint of awkwardness. Bringing your tape up you took a step closer to Harry as you lifted it above his head and around his neck. Before doing anything else, you put your glasses on, wanting to actually be able to see what the measurements were. Resting the tape on the tops of his shoulders, you put your finger between the tape and his neck to allow for some room for Harry to breathe in his suits. You felt him swallow against your finger. Her heart skipped a quick beat.

“So…” he said, dragging it out. “Where are you from?”

Instantly, your eyes whipped up in the direction of his, staring at you patiently. You glanced down at the measurements again, whispering them to yourself under your breath and doing so continuously till you wrote his numbers behind the ‘neck’ in your notebook.

“You can tell I’m from England?” you asked, knowing your parents had made it very apparent to you how much of your accent you had lost over the four years you had spent constantly traveling.

“Know a Brit when I hear one.”

You huffed through your nose, walking back to him. “Lift your arms, please.”

He did.

You sneaked the measurement tape from where it hung from his shoulders and wrapped it around the widest point of his chest. “Worcestershire, you?”

“Cheshire,” he answered. “Right outside Manchester.”

“Stand in a relaxed posture if you can,” you ordered. “You can let your arms fall to your sides.” Harry did as you told him to. “Now breathe in.” Breathed in, you noted the numbers in your head. “Breathe out.” You did the same again. Muttering them under your breath, you dragged the tape with you while writing everything down.

“And you?” Harry asked, clearly eager to get to know you better while you were this close to him. He didn’t want any awkward tension between the two of you as this almost felt like an intimate moment; you studying him so closely and touching his entire body on your first meeting. Though he was good at knowing when to be professional and when it was okay not to be - and though he knew this was work - he couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t. You were a good friend of Alessandro, just as he was, and so it felt more like two acquaintances hanging out than anything work related.

“Evesham.” You answered, enclosing the tape around Harry’s waist this time. You leaned into him, nose almost touching his chest. You breathed in through your nose, and as discreetly as possible, breathed out through your mouth. Why were you acting up? What was it with Harry Styles that suddenly made it hard for you to function? This never happened. Bending your index finger, you started feeling around for Harry’s belly button to make sure you were on the right spot.

“Never really been to Worcestershire, if I’m- Oh!” Harry looked down at you as you poked his belly button a little too hard.

“Sorry, just needed to know I was directly on your waist.” You leaned down, asking him to breathe in and out again.

Harry watched you write the numbers down. “How long have you been doing this?”

“What?” you asked, putting one end of the tape at the mid side of his neck, following it all the way down to where you knew Alessandro wanted the shirt to end. Which was a little too close to his crotch. “You mean working for Gucci or tailoring people?” You felt the spot where his abdomen ended and his leg began. No, no, no, don’t go there, be professional, you thought to yourself.

“Both.”

You hunched down, getting the right measurements, writing them down, and then going to stand at his back. “Since I was twenty. Alessandro thought I had some talent, took me under his wing, and I’ve been working for Gucci since, tailoring people.” Placing your finger near his armpit, and tracing a line upward, Harry jerked.

“Absolutely not.” He glanced at you now that you were face to face, protecting his armpit while he continued on, “Want me to elbow you in the throat?”

“Preferably not.”

“Then don’t tickle my armpit.” He was so serious it took everything in you not to laugh.

“Well,” you couldn’t help your smile now. “I kind of have to know where your armpit is to do your shoulders.”

Conflict ran across Harry’s face, as if he was debating everything that could go wrong if he let you do it. Slowly, he turned back around, shoulders incredibly tense this time.

“Try to relax.”

“I know I’m about to have a finger jammed up my armpit, I’m unable to.”

The urge to laugh was so immense, but you bit your lips together and quickly ran your finger from his armpit and directly up his shoulder. Harry only winced a little, sighing under his breath as you took the measurements and then went to write them down.

“Sorry,” Harry said as you turned back around to him. “Didn’t mean to turn into a dickhead, but I just hate when people touch my armpits.”

You smiled. “It’s fine. I’m the same with my neck.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Ever had someone tailor you?”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Nope. I’ll do that myself unless I need someone to do my back.”

“Let me know next time you need help and I’ll do your back.” Harry said. “Maybe wiggle my fingers along your neck or summat to that effect.”

You laughed. “You have free time on your hands now? Aren’t you a busy bloke?”

“Count me in after July.”

“Oh?”

“World tour is over; I get to relax.” He informed, watching as you did his arm. “Going to Italy to relax with some mates and family.”

“How nice.” You said, doing his wrist. “I’m going to Italy as well. Always spend March ‘till August in Florence, then September ‘till February in London.”

“Really?” Harry almost looked a little impressed by your lifestyle, as if his own wasn’t just as adventurous. “Travel a lot?”

You couldn’t help a tiny smile, knowing that no matter how many countries you’d travelled to, Harry had probably done double the amount. But regardless of how well-travelled he himself was, in the low yet curious tone of his voice, you could hear the sincerity of his question. “Mostly between Italy and England, but I do tag along on some of Alessandro’s visits to the States, France, and some other countries.”

“Wicked.” Harry smiled as he noticed the corners of your mouth tip a little upward. “What’s been your favourite so far?”

The eye contact was intense. He didn’t look away, focusing entirely and altogether on you. There was a friendliness to his glance that had you relaxing, which was odd considering how anxious you had been earlier. You were sure that, by this point, Harry had completely forgotten the entire reason why he was here or why it was raining outside. And, to be fair, so had you. This felt like catching up with a friend, the easy chatter you had with one of your mates after months apart.

“I feel like I’m somewhat biased, but Italy. I love my little flat in Florence and that city too much for my own good.” You said, finding the way Harry’s head moved slightly with his huff, endearing. “You expected that?”

“What's not to love about Italy?” he asked, head cocked to the side. “I’m going there this summer, remember? Taking my whole family and meeting some mates.”

“Where abouts are you going?”

“Modena.” He put his hands in his jean pockets, nodding his head as he spoke. “Not really anywhere close to a big city or anything, but I just want to rest once I’m there to be fair. I’m teaching myself Italian at the moment, Alessandro is teaching me some as well.”

“Really?” Your smile grew bigger.

Harry’s smile mirrored yours. “Yeah.”

“Would you understand if I spoke some to you?” The four years you had lived in Italy had made you fluent in their first language. It had been a challenge at first, but you now understood the frustrated Florentine drivers shouting out from their open driver side windows, the old couple owning the bakery near you who loved to mumble, and even the slang some of the interns at Gucci used when they talked to one another. Harry seemed to be able to tell that you mastered this language he had just barely started to learn, but he nodded nevertheless.

“Right then.” He said. “Hit me.”

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself, getting the measurement tape from the table behind you, completely having forgotten about the fact that you were here for work.

“Is that Italian for ‘oh no’?” Harry teased, making you both laugh, but you quickly shut up as you saw what was next on the list. Hip and seat. Clearing your throat, you turned back to Harry, biting your lip as you hunched down before him. You could tell that he too was a bit taken aback by the completely new position you two found yourself in. He quickly looked away.

“Is it okay if you…” your eyes met. “If you lift your shirt slightly and lower your jeans a tad? I need to measure directly onto your body.”

“Alright,” Harry took a grip of his jeans, shimmying them along with his boxers a bit down his hip. “Yeah.” Taking his shirt up next, the bare skin of his abdomen was there right in front of you.

“Modena,” you started, leaning in as you brought the measurement tape around him. Harry felt your breath brush against his abdominal hair. “Non è troppo lontana da Firenze.”

“What?” he said, eyes glued to the wall right in front of him, hands gripping his shirt hard in concentration. “Didn’t catch that.”

You memorised his number, then said a quick, “You can pull your jeans up and shirt down now.”

Harry did so, watching you stroll back to note his hip. He noticed he was panting slightly, like he had run up a set of stairs. Closing his mouth, he shook his head and willed himself to act normal, to be respectful. It was a little hard, however, when he had been single for so long and a pretty lass stood right in front of his crotch. As you came back and stood in front of him the exact same way as the time before, Harry settled his eyes on the white boards again. This time around, you brought the book with you, wanting the crotch and leg area to be done with as quickly as possible.

“Modena non è troppo lontana da Firenze.” You said again, measuring around the widest point of his seat.

He didn’t respond.

“Harry?”

“Huh?”

You giggled, writing down the measurements before inhaling hugely. Inseam next. “Did you catch what I was saying?”

“No, I-“ He stopped himself as your hand came up to the inside of his upper thigh, not having seen it coming. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay.” You said quickly, doing his inseam, knuckles softly gracing that spot between his thighs.

“I, uhh, I didn’t understand what you were saying.” He admitted quickly, hands on his hips and gaze faraway.

You wrote down the inseam, and got up, taking the book with you. His eyes instantly fell on you as you stood face to face again; him biting his lips together and your eyes big. Turning around, you placed the book down on the table again, running your finger over all the measurements so far.

“Could you come here, please?” You asked, hearing Harry walk towards you, hands on his back and ready for the next steps. You had been a bit scared to command him earlier, but now that you had talked and been between his legs, you felt it almost got a little easier to be around him. As if the awkwardness had gone away. Now you didn’t have to go far to write his measurements because the table and book and pen were right beside you. You walked over to the white board, mentally jotting down how and where Alessandro wanted the shirt to end and how it was supposed to sit on Harry. Meanwhile, Harry craned his neck to watch you. Still wearing your glasses, he watched your lips move as you mumbled to yourself, the dark blue of the rainstorm from the window beside you, made what Harry looked like seem like a painting. The calmness of you against the raging madness outside. He glanced back at the book, then at the soft fabric hanging beside him, mind wandering to the different places these campaigns would take him. He read over his measurements, about to turn the pages to see some of his other lengths and widths, when he felt a sharp pain in his finger.

He hissed.

You glanced over at him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Harry was fast to answer, putting his index finger in his mouth to get some of the blood off his finger.

Walking back over to him, you didn’t pay much attention to how he was quick to put his hand behind his back again where it had been earlier. “Modena isn’t too far from Florence.”

Harry’s brows met above his nose, feeling a little lost at first, but as he slowly started putting two and two together, his grimace evaporated. “Modena non è troppo lontana da Firenze.”

You nodded your head twice, giving him a little smile. “Esattamente.”

“Exactly.” Harry translated.

You raised your hand, offering Harry a high five which he happily answered. What he forgot in that second however, was his minor accident just a minute earlier. Right before your hands met, you noticed his finger, and your eyes went immediately to his.

“What happened to your bleeding finger, mate?”

“Oh-” Harry looked at it, looking unsure for a second before he huffed. “Oh that,” he huffed. “That’s nothing.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re a tailor.”

“What…” You shook your head. “What’s that got to do with this?”

“Thought we were stating the obvious.” He shrugged. “Just a papercut. I’ll survive.”

“Of course you’ll survive, just wondered how you were able to start bleeding out of nowhere.”

Harry chuckled. “Not to worry, I’ll be able to use my hand as normal in no time.”

“Knob.” You mumbled automatically, immediately regretting it. That was not at all professional. And you were in a very professional setting. You were at work. You couldn’t call your client a knob right to his face. Oh my god oh my god oh my god, you thought to yourself trying to row yourself back to safe territory. You scrunched your nose up as you inhaled sharply. “Can’t even remember the last time I got a papercut, to be frank.”

“Speaking frankly now, are you?” He joked. You looked up at him again, and a second after your eyes met, you both started laughing. You put your hand to your heart, shaking your head at how silly the two of you were when you were under strict orders from Alessandro to get Harry’s measurements. But the fact that he hadn’t taken you calling him a knob seriously, the fact that he was able to joke about it and take the piss, it made it impossible for you not to laugh with him.

Your eyes met, both teary eyed from laughter.

“What’s knob in Italian, anyway?” Harry asked, making you laugh even harder.

And that launched the two of you into easy conversation. Almost a little too easy for the two of you to just have met. The fact that you were in a work environment didn’t seem to face you at all, which was incredibly refreshing for both. The seriousness of the meetings you had to endure most of the time so unnecessarily boring and dry that this was like a breath of fresh air. Alessandro had been right when he said you had loads in common, which you figured out in between you taking his measurements. There didn’t seem to be a topic untouched at the end of Harry’s session, and though he was done with his measurements and such, he stuck around. You two stood by the table you stood at earlier, you still holding onto the tape like once you stopped, Harry would immediately leave. Neither of you noticed how the door opened slightly. Didn’t notice Alessandro looking through the crack and at the two of you, having heard voices from behind the door when he came back from his meeting. He smiled to himself, seeing Harry laugh at something you said before he closed the door again, leaving you two to it.

You became fast friends. Though you could go a week without texting, or a day without thinking about one another, you still knew that when you next met up, you would pick up where you left off. You had formed an easy friendship like that, one which you both appreciated and knew you could come back to without problem. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would befriend someone as high profile as Harry Styles when working as a tailor. You hadn’t really thought you would befriend any celebrity when working as a tailor, actually. But here you were, friends with Harry Styles, and not at all thinking of him as someone who made hit singles or who was the new face of Gucci. Someone who made a living off of singing and who had a huge bloody fanbase supporting him. That part of his life felt surreal, but yours and Harry’s friendship was so genuine, so effortless, that you didn’t really care about the other aspects of his life as long as he was a good person.

The second time you met was at the chip shop, The Camp, in St Albans, Hertfordshire, where the photoshoot and commercial would take place. It was cloudy, the skies a dull grey that threatened with rain, but you knew would just fly right by without interrupting the film crew. The wind was annoying however, bitter at the touch, but you knew Harry was a warm blooded person and would have no problems exposing his chest and hands to it. You strolled up to the Camp School parking lot that was littered with cars and a huge white truck where you knew Harry would be, getting ready. Alessandro had other business to attend to and most of the people on set worked for Gucci, but you were there to see that the suits you had made were okay and that they properly fit. For the first fitting some weeks ago, you had been busy with another client, so Alessandro had done that himself. But he still wanted someone on sight in case something happened, because no way in hell were anyone but him or you allowed to repair a pair of torn trousers or a ruined shirt.

You knocked on the door of the truck, heard a “Come in”, and stepped inside. Harry was sitting in a makeup chair, a woman doing his hair and make-up, readying him for his first ever Gucci shoot. He opened his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror before him. Your smiles were identical when you realised who you were looking at.

“Knob.” You said, standing by the wall behind Harry.

“Wanker.” He answered, grinning at you. “You alright?”

It was something the two of you had fallen into the habit of calling one another ever since the ‘knob’ incident of your first meeting. No one really understood why, especially not the people around you. Alessandro, who thought he had been the mastermind behind a match made in heaven, was surprised to see just how good friends the two of you were. Seeing you two hit it off in his office at first, he had immediately thought he had done it, found each his friends a potential partner, but after months of nothing romantic happening, he had given up. It was clear the two of you just looked at each other as friends and nothing more. Very good friends at that.

“Yeah,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing out beyond the door you had just walked through. “Looks like it’s about to rain.”

Harry chuckled. “Worried about that, are you?” He thanked the make-up artist before he got up, gesturing for you to walk out first.

“Yes.” You answered, stepping out of the van. “You’ll look like a maniac if you get wet in that.”

“A maniac?!” Harry sounded appalled. “You might have to elaborate on why.”

“Wet hair, wearing a suit with no shirt, striking orange necklace, and holding a chicken?”

“No, that’s art, babe.”

You laughed. The two of you started strolling towards the chip shop.

“If anything, I’ll look irresistible wearing this and being soaked.” Harry said, saying a quick ‘hi’ to someone walking by. “You won’t be able to resist me.”

You huffed. “If I saw someone walking down the street looking like that, being soaked through, I’d have my pepper spray ready and already dialling 999.”

“Admit it, you’d not be able to keep your hands off me.”

“Why are you so obsessed with me thinking you’re fit?” You laughed. A short silence followed. Your knuckles brushed against one another. Something warm lit up your chest for a single second. Harry just looked at you for a moment, as if seriously contemplating the question. But before you got the chance to look to your left and at your mate, to make sure he was fine, someone interrupted.

“Harry,” one of Glen Luchford’s assistants walked toward the two of you. “We’re ready for you.”

The photographer stood beside the art director – Christopher Simmonds - further down the street, just outside the chip shop, talking amongst themselves about something. A slight breeze blew past you, Harry’s cologne graced you for two lovely seconds as you watched the man himself follow the main photographer’s assistant. You were a couple of steps behind them, standing by yourself and watching the whole commercial unfold. Harry was handed the chicken, who flapped its wings upon being in Harry’s grasp. The look on Harry’s face had you laughing, and Harry immediately looked over at you, giving you a stern look. However, you were laughing, so it was hard for him not to crack a smile as well. Your phone vibrated in your pocket some minutes later, and you walked a distance away as not to be in the way.

“Lallo, hiya.” You greeted, scrunching your nose up as you felt the first droplet of rain hit it.

“Il mio amore,” Alessandro greeted, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “How’s the photoshoot?”

“Not really done much yet, but everything’s fine so far.”

He sighed again. “I am glad to hear. Did the suit fit nice like it’s supposed to?”

You glanced at Harry over your shoulder, standing on the pavement further down, ready to film. He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the white sky with big eyes. It was almost as if you could see the peaceful green of his irises. His neck was stretched as he bowed his head back, closing his eyes and letting a few raindrops fall into his face. He looked almost dreamy; peaceful for a few moments as he collected himself. Someone shouted something and Harry blinked his eyes open, looking at the director. Suddenly, his eyes went to you, but they flickered away just as quickly. You looked away.

“It fits.”

“Nothing bad’s happened?”

You kicked at a stone on the ground. “What does that mean?”

“Harry ruining the suit.”

You huffed out a small laugh through your nose. “Do you have that little faith in him?”

“He gets clumsy when he’s nervous.”

You frowned. “Harry isn’t nervous.”

“Are you sure?” Alessandro asked, you could tell he was narrowing his eyes and putting his hand on his hip. He was challenging you. “Really sure?”

“Look,” you started walking towards the make-up van, aware that you most likely had to go get the make-up artist and hairdresser out if it was going to start raining. “Everything’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about. If you were worried this was going to be a fail, why didn’t you prioritise this event?”

“Fine, fine. It’s not you I’m worried about, no? It’s that…” Alessandro paused for some seconds. “It’s Harry’s first Gucci shoot and I’m not there. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then I’m there to fix it. Why I’m here, remember?” You spotted the van. “I’m your eyes, ears, and hands today.”

Alessandro laughed. “Il mio amore, what would I do without you?”

“Do not know. I really don’t.”

He laughed again and you two hung up just as you knocked on the door to the make-up van. Informing them that it was drizzling out and that they might have to come do a touch-up if it got worse, you walked in as they got everything they needed. A selection of suits hung on a rack on one end of the van, some twins in case something were to happen, and others were lone ones. Regardless, you always found Alessandro’s ability to make clothes into a form of art so inspiring. It was what made you want to work with him in the first place. An abundance of colours and fabrics, of softness and roughness, of modern and rustic. The things he thought to make you’d never in your wildest dreams think of, which made doing anything for him so fascinating. Always something new, always something spellbinding.

You followed the crew out and in the direction of the shoot. It wasn’t drizzling as much anymore, but this was still England, something that meant it would happen anytime soon. The artists were chatting amongst themselves as you made your way over, you read over an email on your phone. Suddenly though, the heels that had walked right beside you stopped. You glanced up from your phone, over your shoulder at the three ladies you had gotten to help you. They stared straight ahead, and when you averted your eyes, letting them land on what they were seeing, you almost dropped your phone.

The hen Harry had been holding was flapping about, two crew members chasing it while a third one ran over to help. Someone was shouting “Stop recording” and someone else “Get the fucking chicken”. But the worst part of it all – at least for you – was Harry getting up from the asphalt. There was a furrow to his brows as he checked his suits for scratches, stopping when he saw the rip at his knee. Your brain immediately flashed back to what Alessandro had just told you.

Harry’s eyes shot up, hastily scanning the crowd around him, and you quickly realised he was looking for you. Stepping forward, you saw him relax some when his eyes landed on you. He jogged over, groaning through his teeth.

“I-“

“-Get to the bloody van, I need to take a look at the rest of your suit.”

“But there’s only the knee.” Harry said as you two started walking.

“I’m not taking your word for it.”

This seemed to become a theme for Harry’s shoots. His anxiety would get the better of him, though he did get more confident with each one that went by. It wasn’t something he was amazing at at first, but something that grew on him overtime. Just like the seasons changed from winter to spring to summer, Harry slowly got his feet off the slippery ice he seemed to have been on that first shoot in England.

However, a few months later, you were back in Italy, doing another shoot with Gucci. Harry was wearing one of the suits you had tailored for him; a checked one, a blue shirt, a silk bandana around his neck and another one in his hair. Since the last shoot, the two of you had talked over the phone, texted, and sent each other funny memes on Instagram. You hadn’t met up a whole lot, maybe the odd café trip or two with some friends, but nothing beyond that. So, meeting him in Italy, your second home, was incredibly special to you.

You were on the outside of Rome, Villa Lente, and you had spent most of your morning yawning and getting looks from Alessandro when you did so. Harry yawned with you when he caught you doing so, the two of you giggling at how ridiculous you were being. With raised eyebrows, Alessandro watched the two of you, giving you a slight flick to the arm when you distracted Harry.

But it was when Harry was perched on the stone wall, dragging some hair out of his face as he placed himself steadily on it, that was then it happened. The sun hit him just right, making the ruffle of his curls look like a golden halo around his head; green irises switching to the colour of autumn leaves where the light hit them. He looked ethereal. And in the middle of all of this, Harry reached for the lamb he was supposed to be perching on his shoulders. No one thought Harry would actually fall off the wall. No one thought he was that clumsy. But as he was hurtling towards the ground having lost his footing completely, the realisation that he was indeed that clumsy hit you just as Harry hit the stone staircase beneath the wall.

Alessandro exclaimed a few crude words in Italian, running to Harry’s aid. You stood there blinking, getting yourself back from the slight daydream you’d just had about the poor man that laid on the ground with a dozen people around him. One second he had looked like something straight out of a dream; like an angel that had come down to earth. He had looked too good and you simply had not been able to look away from him. You knew Harry was good looking, you weren’t blind, but something about the sun hitting him like that, when he smiled down at you watching him, how carefully he styled his hair when he at up on that stone wall. It did something to you.

But all of that disappeared right away when Harry hit the ground, exclaiming a grunt of pain. Alessandro was by his side in seconds, speaking so fast you had trouble understanding him. Harry held onto his knee, yet again having ripped the suit and once again bleeding, only this time it was his hand. Why was it always his knee and why did he always end up bleeding? It was only so clumsy a person could get, wasn’t it? And yet, Harry Styles seemed to be proving you very wrong. No one was as easily affected by their anxiety as him.

People crowded him, ready to be of help and to get him standing. It wasn’t like he had broken any bones, because he was able to get up onto his feet without trouble, but the fall had definitely hurt regardless. Your eyes locked as Harry’s arm came to rest around Alessandro’s shoulders, the designer helped him over to the van. Once again, Harry had to change trousers.

“How?” you simply asked, unsure what best way to even address the whole situation.

“Don’t,” Harry shook his head, not in the mood to have you take the mick out of him for this. “Hurts like a fucking cunt.”

Alessandro pinched Harry’s side, making him yelp and put more pressure on his knee than he wanted to, ultimately getting him to gasp. Harry glanced at the designer, an annoyed furrow forming between his brows.

“Why’d you do that?”

“You were being rude.”

“Pinching a wounded man is rude.” Harry removed his arm from around Alessandro, limping towards the van. “I’m getting changed.”

You glanced at Alessandro, both of you knowing that no matter what, Harry would be in a bad mood for a bit now. That always happened when something didn’t go according to plan; he’d get grumpy and need some time alone. One of the assistants was about to follow him, clearly having gotten some orders from the photographer, Glen Luchford, or art director, Christopher Simmonds. You put your hand out warning them from following the already irritated and hurting star of the photoshoot. He just needed 10 minutes to cool off, and then you’d be off after him to make sure he was alright.

Once 10 minutes had passed, you knocked on the door of the make-up van, hearing a grumble of sorts before stepping inside. Harry was standing unzipping his trousers and shimmying them down his hip. It reminded you a bit of the tailoring you had done at the beginning of the year, how he had pushed both his trousers and boxers down so you could get his measurements right. He glanced over his shoulder at you before he sat down, now only his boxers covering the top part of his thighs and crotch.

“Don’t stand there looking for too long,” he said, bending over to get the trousers completely off. “I might end up turning you on.”

You stepped inside, closing the door and walking over to the first-aid kit. You felt Harry’s eyes on you as he sat back, placing the ripped trousers on the chair beside him. Getting some cotton, you put a mild soap on it and poured it under water before walking back over to Harry. You sat down in a chair, getting closer to him, and taking his hand. As you turned it over to look at the scratch on his palm, you could tell that it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it to be, but it still looked like it’d hurt. Carefully, you dabbed the wound, making sure to clean it up. Harry hissed through his teeth, watching as the cotton came out dirty. It hadn’t been the cleanest ground he’d landed on and you didn’t want him to get an infection.

Getting up, you got another piece of cotton and did the same, dragging the chair even closer to Harry now. Taking his hand this time around, your knuckles brushed his thigh, the dark downy hair you hadn’t noticed till now. How his boxers rested tightly around his thighs, and how far up they were, revealing more than you were intended to see. Your cheeks felt hot and you focused on his hand, lifting it from his leg so you didn’t have to feel his warm, bare thigh against your knuckles. There wasn’t really a trace of any dirt on it now, but you wanted to be sure you’d gotten everything before you let him outside again.

You were very aware Harry could rinse his own wound himself. He didn’t need people to do everything for him, he liked doing most things himself, in fact. And though both of you were sat there knowing you didn’t have to, neither stopped it. Slowly, Harry’s eyes came to rest at your face. They stayed there, just watching you tend to him so carefully. When people go out of their way to help you, to make sure you’re okay, those are the kind of people to hold onto for life. The kind of people who will buy you sweets when you need it on a bad day, who will force themselves to be in a cheery mood to better yours, who will kiss your eyelids when you go back to sleep after a nightmare. The kind of people who will rinse your wound when you get hurt when you’re perfectly capable of doing so yourself.

You didn’t know why you looked up, didn’t know what made you do it. Maybe it was your subconscious that knew if you did, you’d find something you’d been searching for your whole life. Maybe something inside you knew that glancing up, you’d see something you hadn’t before. Your eyes met Harry’s, and though you had stared into them on numerous occasions before, something shifted in that moment. With his hand in your hand, his bare knee resting against yours, eyes glancing intently into yours; it was like something bigger than yourselves took over. You felt it on your heart first, like a warm tingling that spread out to every single one of your limbs and cells. It felt like you were drunk; head hazy and feelings heightened. Everything about Harry before you was greater, brighter; more.

“You need to finish the shoot.” You said, knowing that Alessandro would undoubtedly not appreciate the two of you taking this long.

Harry didn’t answer. He just stared at you, like he was seeing something spectacular for the first time and he couldn’t look away. The look in his eyes softened as he gulped, his Adam’s apple moving with a lump in his throat he clearly had trouble swallowing. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes rest to your lips. Following the shape of them, savouring the colour of them. Neither of you realised you were moving in. It wasn’t till the sight of Harry started to blur and the room seem to fill with electricity that you realised just how close you were. You stopped, pulling a bit away till you saw him clearly, but a slight wrinkle to his brows told you he hadn’t appreciated that. Just as you were about to lean in again, to an unknown fate between the two of you, there was a loud knock on the door and a second later it flew open. You pushed away from him, barely even touching his hand as you finished rinsing the wound. Harry blinked, clearing his throat and looking over his shoulder at Alessandro who stood there glancing back at him.

“Well?” Alessandro asked, gesturing behind him at the shoot that had been momentarily stopped.

“Yeah,” Harry said, eyes meeting yours before he dragged his hand out of your grip. “Just a sec.”

Harry got up, walking over to the wardrobe to get changed. Instantly, you threw the cotton away and walked outside with Alessandro, ready to forget the whole moment and never think of it again. But it was easier said than done. The rest of that shoot, that day, that week, it was all you could think about.

Unfortunately, after that shoot, you and Harry hadn’t been able to see one another  It was finally that time of year when you had a bit of time off to relax, and this time it happened to fall in the middle of July. It gave you the perfect opportunity to do nothing more than wander the streets of your home, see some old friends, and fully enjoy the beauties that an Italian summer had to offer. But no matter how happy you were for the time off, it was bittersweet because although Harry had just finished his world tour and now had an abundance of free time on his hands, he was fully booked until you’d see him for your next shoot.

You didn’t fault him for how he spent his time off, he did just get home after a long year long world tour, and that did warrant some time alone. But you did have to admit that you missed seeing him. Somewhere in your mind, you recall him saying he was spending some time in Italy up north with his family, but the dates were jumbled and you didn’t want to disturb his peace. Instead, you settled for knowing you’d see him again in a few short months.

You had set out for the day in order to find some new houseplants, seeing as the young girl who kept yours tended to while you were away - Lilliana - always seemed to let them wilt. It was the most perfect day to stroll down to the market and see some of the florists you’d missed while you were away, what with the sun shining it’s brightest and only the tiniest breeze ghosting by your cheeks. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. This was your time to bask in the sunlight before heading back to dreary London for some time.

Sandals clapping against the cobblestone walkway echoed through the quiet street, the sound of faint music playing from a nearby open window was carried by the breeze, filling in any silence that would be there otherwise. This was the life you had dreamt about as a child, the kind of life that you only got to read about in books or watch in films, yet here you were. It was yet another reason you had to be thankful to Alessandro for.

“Mi scusi, signora.”

You often walked down the small side street with your eyes closed briefly, not only knowing it like the back of your hands, but also basking in the warmth of the sun, so it wasn’t anything new to have someone speak up to let you know they were near. But something about that voice was familiar. Like when you walk into your home for the first time in a while and you can smell you. Like you can’t exactly put a finger on it, but you know it’s familiar, so you investigate. Which you did, and it caused you to gasp.

“Harry?”

“In the flesh.” his smile could rival the brightness of the sun that was shining between in the tall buildings as he walked up the slight incline of the street towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Was in the neighborhood and through I’d stop by. See my favorite tailor.” Once he finally reached you, your arms were instantly wrapped around one another, squeezing like you hadn’t just been together weeks ago.

“Wha - how are yo-?”

“Don’t tell me you’re speechless. You? Of all people?” he laughed, pulling away after giving a few rubs to your back.

“I know you didn’t come all the way to Montaione to take the piss, Harry.” you took this time to really look at him after your surprise meet up. He looked remarkable, something that quite annoyed you considering he was dressed so casually. Then again, the man could pull off close to anything. He was wearing a pair of grey trousers; a single pleat running from his waist to ankles down the middle of the leg, a plain white t shirt that perfectly accentuated his dark tattoos, and a royal blue bandana that hung loosely from around his neck. The pair of sunglasses he had worn when walking up to you were now being hung from the bandana so that he could get a better look at you, and if you had to look at his sparkling green eyes for any second longer, you were sure you would combust.

“Despite how easy it is to get under your skin, I, surprisingly, didn’t come here to do anything other than see you for a few hours.”

“A few hours? You traveled down from Modena just to hangout for a few hours?”

“Knew I was in Modena then? Keeping tabs on me while we’re apart, are you?”

Your hand jut out and shoved him hard enough to make him lose a bit of balance while you two started walking down the street, just enough so that he had to take a few steps to the side to stabilize himself.

“Thought you weren’t here to take the piss, knob.”

He laughed, nodding his head and sliding his sunglasses back onto his face. “Alright alright. Truce. But to answer your question, yes I did. That a bad thing?”

“Uh, no it’s not. Just a bit surprising is all. That’s a bit of a journey just for lunch.”

“And I’d make it countless more times for you.”

Over the last two years, you grew to know Harry and when he was being serious or having a laugh, so you could instantly hear the sincerity behind his words. Despite the goofy grin playing at his lips, you knew that he was being truthful, and the thought made butterflies awaken in your belly.

“It’s good to see you, Harry.” the nod you gave was more towards yourself, but when you glanced up at Harry, you saw that he was already watching you, smiling as he took in your relaxed aura.

“You too, doll.”

“How’d you find me, anyway?” just as you did each time you met up, the two of you fell into easy conversation as you made your way towards the village square. Harry was one of those people that you could go months without talking to, yet somehow, the second you met back up again, you were able to pick up right where you left off.

“Alessandro may or may not have given it to me.” his voice was timid, like he didn’t fully want to admit he had asked your boss where you lived.

“Of course he did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s obsessed with you, you know?”

“He’s not.”

“Mhm. Says you’re his shining star. ‘M sure the man would create a whole collection surrounding you if you give him enough time.”

“Says the woman who he looks at like his next of kin.”

“Don’t make this into a pissing contest, Harry. You know he adores you.”

“Just him?”

It felt like spending time with a lifelong mate when with Harry, but when he said shit like that, when he made your tummy flutter with his mix of words and longing gazes, it made it hard for you to see him as just a friend.

“Didn’t you say that you only had a bit before having to get back?” you changed the subject quickly, not wanting to answer his question.

“Not get back, ‘m not headed back to Modena.” he shook his head when you sent him a soft, questioning ‘no?’ “Nope. Flying down to Sicily for a few days for Google Camp.”

“Google Camp?” your eyebrows shot up in question when he told you, “A sumit for the rich and famous to talk about climate change while flying in on private jets and yachts. How very unlike you mister Styles.”

“Oi, lay off. Got invited, didn’t I? Wasn’t going to turn it down. Besides,” he shrugged, “‘M flying commercial and carpooling. Being as eco friendly as possible.”

“Course, of course.”

“I have four hours until my flight, so just shut up and come get lunch with me.”

The room had gone totally dim during your trip down memory lane, indicating that it was time for everyone to begin getting in their places so that the show could begin. But even in the low lighting, it wasn’t hard to miss the look of fear and doubt flash through Harry’s eyes. The look was something that appeared before every shoot or campaign you had been present for, only lasting seconds, yet always intriguing to you. The man before you was a superstar, someone who pranced around on stage in front of tens of thousands of people every night, without a care in the world. Yet, as soon as your exquisitely tailored clothes touched his body, his shoulders would tense, and he looked like a scared child. You’d never understood why.

“You’re nervous.” It came out as more of a breathy statement than a question.

“‘M terrified.”

You heard those words regularly from your models, especially the new ones, but hearing it fall from between his lips made your stomach tighten. Harry was such a natural at all of this; the superstardom. It was easy to tell that he felt right at home while on stage, how perfectly natural his body reacted whenever the camera was on for a red carpet, how easy going he was when it came to hair and makeup and outlandish outfits. All of it came so easy to him and it blew you away every time you got to witness it. And while he was so good at adjusting quickly to new environments, his team and fans constantly cheering him on with every new endeavor, he was still just a normal twenty five year old guy. He still FaceTimed his mum to get her opinion on new looks, still went out and enjoyed his free time with mates, and still got anxious when trying something new. He never seemed to want to disappoint you or Alessandro when he was wearing the clothes you’d made for him specifically. That was what got to him, you thought, the prospect of ruining spectacular clothes you’d made from scratch. The moments in time you’d just thought back on was indicator enough.

“It’s gonna be great. We saw you during the runthrough yesterday.” you smiled, reminding him how well he had done during the practice show.

“But that’s different. This time it means somethin-” he was cut off by Alessandro yelling it was time for all models to officially line up for showtime. “What if I go too fast and I step on Mae’s shoe, fuck up her walk? Or too slow and clog up the entire runway? Or the hat fal-”

“Hey!” To stop his incessant worrying, your hands grabbed either side of his face, making him stop for a second and look directly at you. He blinked once. “Stop it. You’re going to do amazing. Alessandro wouldn’t have put you in this show if he didn’t have complete confidence in you. And you should know by now I wouldn’t have wasted my oh so precious time making any of this fit you perfectly if I didn’t believe in you.”

Harry’s breathing began calming down, going from almost hysterical to a gentle, rhythmic, intake, indicating that he was coming out of his panic bubble. His eyes never left your own, quite different from all the times they had openly roamed your figure.

“You can do this.” You whispered, nodding slightly and sending him a loving smile as your hands dropped back down to your sides,

Alessandro’s voice yelled over everyone, demanding everyone be in their place immediately, but Harry made no move to leave your side. He continued staring at you, taking a few deep breaths every few seconds and nodding to himself, seeming to give himself a pep talk in his head. The lights went out in the museum, leaving the audience in complete darkness, and you knew the intense sound of an alarm would soon be echoing through the building to start the show.

But none of that held your attention.

In what could have only been a second, Harry’s lips were pressed against yours. It was so quick that you didn’t have time to register what had happened before he was turning to run and join the other models, but it left you stunned. Like being in the warmth of your home during a snowy day and suddenly opening the door, letting the freezing wind hit you in the face.

And as much as the kiss had taken you off guard, it felt so very right that small second it happened. He hadn’t even given it a second thought, leaning in to kiss you like the two of you had been an item for years and it was part of your normal everyday routine. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, and the thought alone made your fingertips ache to be on his skin again. Shaking yourself out the haze that had formed around you mind, your focus and priorities flipped like a switch as soon as the siren began playing, looking around the room to make sure everyone and everything was where it needed to be.  

Just as the precession of models began exiting the dressing room, and The Shadows Die Twice by Br1002 ranging throughout the museum, you made your way up to stand beside Alessandro. There was never a time you saw him truly stressed; not when you first started working with him and you accidentally ruined an entire bundle of fabric, not when he was in charge of creating dozens of different looks for the Met Gala, and not even now, watching as his newest collection strutted down the runway, making its worldwide debut. He was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected.

“There she goes.” You admired, resting your head on your boss’ shoulder and watching all 217 of the looks he created and you helped bring to life, be released into the world.

The sense of pride that rushed through your veins each and every time you got to see the pieces you put your heart and soul into, was similar to what you could only imagine it was like for a parent to watch their child flourish. You could remember all the moments during the months leading up to the show that you wanted to quit, when you would get so frustrated with Alessandro and his brilliantly creative mind every time he brought you a new look idea, how badly you wanted to scream after pricking your fingers so much they started to bruise. You remembered all of those times when holding such an important job at Gucci felt like something you just weren’t ready for at the age of twenty four. But every hardship was worth it the moment your work came to a culmination. This moment of absolute pride and excitement.

“How are you feeling?”

Alessandro wrapped his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you so close to his body that it was most comfortable for you to wrap one arm around his back and one around his waist, your hands joining together at his hip. “I feel so much love.”

That was the only way to describe what the two of you were feeling as the show progressed through the museum. Even though the room was dark, tall lighting setups hung in every direction, and hundreds of guests were posted up in chairs, the beauty of the location still shined through. Black and white marble covered the floor throughout the entire building, the diamond pattern flowing easily from room to room, and sculptures of ancient men lined each side of the hallway, seemingly growing from the walls because of the similar colors. About halfway down the hallway, models made a left turn and entered the large area known as Palazzo Nuovo. The “New Palace” was constructed over 400 years ago and was an identical replica of the Palazzo dei Conservatori that Michaelangelo created. You had been to the location many times before since spending 6 months at a time in Italy, but you had never seen it as a place to hold a show. Not until Alessandro had brought you one day and explained his vision as you roamed the hallways.

The quick pass of a red beret on one of the monitors, set up for the backstage team to watch the show, caught your attention. He stayed on camera for a bit, and you wished you could watch his fans meltdown over it in real time because he looked exquisite. Despite the darkness of the room, Harry was glowing. The way the strobe lights would hit his face every few steps and accentuate his already angelic features made your stomach clench. You had spent countless hours up close and personal with Harry, while there was very little fabric covering his body; very intimate and unforgettable moments. Many a-second-too-long looks, smiles when the other wasn’t watching, and an intense almost kiss. And an actual kiss. A tiny kiss. A kiss you still felt on your lips. But now, you were getting hot and bothered thinking about his lips while he strutted down the runway in one of the most conservative outfits of the line.

There was something about the lapel rolls of the jacket flapping open slightly with each step, beautifully showcasing his sparrow tattoos and delicate pendant necklace under the dim lights, that excited you. But it was the faintest smile that graced his lips the second before he left frame that made your heart swell.

The overall look he was sporting was extremely similar to that of his first Men’s Tailoring campaign, with the long robe like jacket and exposed chest, but the glint of both happiness and confidence in his eyes reminded you of the moment you put him into the pink and red ensemble of his latest campaign. Something that still made something inside your tummy flutter and the corners of your mouth tip upward.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Harry said. “I will die. 100%.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, holding the pink blazer up and letting him put both his arms through it. “It’s just pigs.”

“That will have my head if I get too close.”

“This is a Gucci shoot, you’re not on I’m a Celeb.”

Harry huffed, looking at himself in the mirror and adjusting the blazer over his shoulders properly. “Watch me go on I’m a Celeb and die when I get attacked by an exotic animal or summat.”

“A pig won’t be the death of you and it’s not an exotic animal, now shut up and sit down.” You wagged the red bandana at him. “I need to put this on you before we can get this started.”

“Alright then.” Harry shoved his wrists out for you. “Go on.”

You tried to give him a disappointed look, but you simply were not able to. Laughing, you shoved Harry into his seat, standing between his legs as you tied the bandana around his head. This time around, the shoot was mostly indoors, so there weren’t many ways Harry could fuck this one up. Alessandro was busying himself and so were other crew members, walking about you two and shouting orders at someone else, but neither of you noticed anyone but the person before you. Since the lunch in Florence, you had been incredibly busy, so you hadn’t really had much time to meet up. Harry, who was currently travelling and making his second album, hadn’t been available much either, but you were both over the moon that you got to spend this time together. You really missed each other the time you were away.

Since last time, Alessandro had gone out of his way to make rings for those he held dearest. Gold Gucci rings with each person’s initials, one for each letter, big and bold. It had taken you off guard, as you hadn’t thought yourself to be as important to Alessandro as he was to you, but he had insisted and showed you his own. He told you “Dear friends match” and that did it for you, you simply had to wear his rings without question. And since then, you had been wearing them every single day. You felt part of his little family. So when Harry showed up to your third shoot together, wearing matching rings to yours, you felt your heart skip a beat and Alessandro’s knowing eyes on both of you. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew how you both felt for one another, and he thought, by giving you these rings, you might realise how special you were to him and then see how special you were to one another as well.

“You’ll just have to forget about your fear of geese and be a professional.”

“I don’t have a bloody fear of geese.”

You shrugged your shoulders, tying the bandana properly.

“I don’t!”

“Alright, mate.”

Harry paused for a second. “Don’t ‘mate’ me.”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore the comment and how it made literally every inch of your body heat up. Taking a step back you studied him, giving him a thumbs up before you walked over to the other suits you had to check up on for the shoot. Harry watched you for a few seconds before he got up from the chair, going to check himself out in the mirror again. Your phone suddenly vibrated against the desk right in front of the mirror, and Harry’s eyes instantly fell to it. A furrow appeared between his brows.

“Who’s Jack?”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Harry read the text you just got. “Hey!”

“Who is he?” he asked again, looking over at you as you came rushing over. You took the phone, pressing it to your chest as if it was going to make Harry forget what he’d just read. He tried to add a playful undertone to his voice, a slight smile across his lips.

“None of your business.”

Harry looked away from you, nodding as he busied himself with trying to get some kind of lint off his coat. “You’re right.”

You put the phone back in your jean pocket and walked over to the suits again, hunching down to check the seam on the hem on the trousers. You felt your phone vibrate with another notification or vibrate as a reminder that she’d gotten a text two minutes prior. Getting up and about to reach back to check what Jack had wanted, she felt a breath against her neck.

“You’re seeing him then?”

You jumped, holding your hand to your chest as you turned around to face him. “None of your business!”

“Oh, come on!”

You shoved him out of the way, way too much to do to be distracted by Harry’s nosiness. Strolling over to the desk, you started looking through your calendar when Harry showed up beside you again. Leaning on his elbow on the desk, he looked up at you, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible considering how curious he actually was.

“Is he fit at least?”

“He’s not annoying.” You said, covering his face with your hand. You felt him smile into your palm. “Ever tried that?”

“Tried being annoying?” Harry asked. “Wouldn’t know where to start.”

You shoved him away, making him lose his balance some and lean both his elbows on the desk. He watched as you walked back to the suits, looking at which ones Alessandro said were to be used by Harry and which ones were to be used by someone else at another time. Just as Harry was about to ask another question about Jack – who was just a mate from back home you hadn’t ever talked to him about because he’d never come up in conversation -, there was a knock at the wardrobe door. Alessandro stood there, a raise to his eyebrows and a small smile on his lips that was almost hidden by his dark, thick, long beard. He’d stood there watching you two for a little while, you thought to yourself.

“Is Harry ready for the shoot?”

“Yes,” you glanced at Harry and pointed at Alessandro. “Go.”

Harry sighed but got up, walking over to Alessandro who was smiling, encouraging Harry to do the same. As he passed him, a small beam was on Harry’s lips, but as he walked through the door, you couldn’t tell if he was still smiling or if he just did it to Alessandro wouldn’t make him. The creative director looked over at you, crossing his arms but not losing his smile.

“What?”

Alessandro shrugged.

“No, what?”

“You could’ve at least told him who Jack was.” Alessandro chuckled.

You rolled your eyes.

“But I get that you want to watch him suffer. It’s funny seeing someone you like be jealous.”

“Harry isn’t jealous.” You said, closing the calendar and placing it neatly back on the desk. “He’s just nosy.”

Alessandro didn’t say anything in response, instead he just walked on over to the shoot, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You weren’t really sure why you hadn’t just told Harry who Jack was. It wasn’t like anything was going on between you and Jack, you were simply mates and he wanted to check up on you and see how things were going. You had absolutely nothing to hide. Especially nothing to the point of keeping your phone close to your chest so he wouldn’t reread the message you’d just gotten, holding no significance whatsoever.

Maybe Alessandro was right. Maybe you did want to see if he was jealous or not. But he didn’t seem jealous to you, just his nosy self. Sighing, you followed Alessandro, ready to be of service if something should go wrong. They hadn’t even started shooting when you walked into the room, they were still walking around, placing the different statues and other props around the place to get it to look exactly like the producer wanted it to. You stood watching for a bit, knowing that your phone was still in your back pocket, untouched since Harry had seen the innocent text from Jack.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, saw a shadow mingle with yours, and you recognised the messy hair and the bandana you’d wrapped around his head earlier. Smiling, you continued to stare ahead, waiting a minute before Harry felt brave enough to answer.

“Did you answer Jack then?” You felt the breath of his words against your hair.

“He just wanted to know how I was, Harry.”

“I know.”

You bit your lip, not looking back at him.

“Guess he just wanted to talk. To feel close to you in a way.”

You huffed, standing your ground and not looking back at him like you knew he wanted you to. “And the point of this is…?”

“Being close to someone you love can calm you down.” Harry said, voice low so only the two of you could hear him. You felt a shiver run up your spine. “Like shelter in a storm; entering a small house and staying for tea before braving the terrible weather again, a little stronger this time with some motivation from those you… hold closest to your heart.”

Your breath hitched somewhere in your throat, feeling both Harry’s breath and eyes on you. It took everything in you not to look at him, to see his soft expression after uttering those equally soft words. “I’m not in love with Jack, Harry.”

Harry was quiet for a second before he said, with the hint of a smile in his voice, “Okay.”

You smiled yourself, wanting to say something in response but not knowing what would be appropriate. You weren’t even sure why you were feeling this much or why Harry being elated you weren’t seeing someone made you this happy. He stood right behind you, just as close, not wavering, till he had to go do the shoot. Walking backwards, he made sure to catch your eye, give you a small smile, before going to do his job. You hated how your cheeks felt hot, that every single time Harry’s dimples appeared you heard something inside your head scream and the every single one of your cells react to him. Glancing over at Alessandro, you caught the creative director watching you with a grin on his face. As soon as your eyes met, though, he turned away, forcing his smile away and pretending like he hadn’t seen a thing. You rolled your eyes, focusing all your attention on Harry, who didn’t let his anxiety get the better of him this time around.

“He’s doing very well.” Alessandro commented, his left hand resting on his chin in a pondering manner.

“He is.”

“Because you replaced his nerves before the show.” From under his hand, you could see a small smirk playing on his lips, his eyes never leaving the monitor.

“I - what?” Lifting away from his side, you stared at Alessandro’s face. And your wide eyes must have made you look like a deer in the headlights because he started chuckling.

You were positive that no one had seen your moment with Harry, considering how dark the little corner you were stood in was. Backstage at a fashion show was crazy enough, there’s no way anyone had been paying attention to the tailor in the back of the room. But the knowing look in your boss’s eyes told you otherwise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest.

“Eyes all over my head, il mio amore. I see everything.”

Alessandro had been like this from the moment he introduced you and Harry, almost two years ago at this point. Always motioning from across the room for you to stand just a bit closer to Harry, informing you whenever Harry was remotely near the office, and always leaving the two of you alone each time he was scheduled for a fitting. It was like he was making it his life’s mission to get his two prodigies together.

“Don’t laugh at me. This is your fault, you know?”

Feigning offence and his hand moved from his chin to his chest, Alessandro turned away from the monitor to finally look directly at you, “Mine? Why do you say that?”

“‘You have a lot in common.’ or how about, ‘look at my two loves together!’ or my personal favorite, ‘The two of you together, assolutamente da togliere il fiato!’”your impersonation of him had gotten extremely good over the last few years, bringing a soft smile to his lips. “Any of those ringing any bells?”

“Only encouraging what you both know to be true, cara.”

“You’re absurd.”

At this point, the first model had made his way back to the dressing room, immediately going to line up for the final walk through. It was scheduled to be a quick show, only about thirteen minutes from first walk to last, but you never imagined it would go by this fast. As the models began to line back up, both you and Alessandro separated, going to either side of the line to join the other tailor in making sure each outfit was still in its pristine condition. You you had a few loose threats to snip here, and a broken necklace to dispose of there, but overall, everyone was still looking perfect.

Especially Harry.

His head was craned, watching you as you made your way down the line behind him, and as soon as you stepped in front of him to quickly examine his apparel, he whispered your name.

“Haven’t tripped yet.” he smirked, adjusting the red glasses on his nose.

“I know, I was watching.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. We were talking about you. Turn around.” grabbing hold of his shoulder, you pulled forward, “Making him proud, you know.”

His shoulders relaxed under your palms, like hearing the news of making one of his idols happy set him free and he could now have the utmost fun with the final walk through.

“Alright. Good luck.”

But before you could get to the next model, his hand caught your arm. In any other situation, you’d be annoyed that you were being stopped from completing your job, but the look on Harry’s face made all worries about any other model fade from your mind.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you proud?”

The question took you off guard. Was really that concerned with what you thought of his performance? He was one of the most renowned superstars in the world, who danced his heart out on stage and did what made him happy no matter what others thought. But your opinion was the one who made his hands clam up? And had you ever made him feel like you weren’t proud? You always thought your quick jabs to one another were all in good fun, but maybe you had gone too far and made him doubt himself.

“Always proud of everything you do.”

It was the honest answer. Getting to watch him excel in every aspect of life he threw himself into, make decisions that helped so many people, putting his friends and family first, and making sure he was happy above all else, was inspiring to say the least. There was never a day that went by where you didn’t feel immense pride for even just getting the chance to know Harry. And in that moment, you promised yourself that you would make it more apparent to him from then on.

A large smile spread across his face, and even in the poor lighting, you could see the apples of his cheeks turn a rosey pink. He looked undeniably cute and following your heart as well as Alessandro’s previous encouragements, you decided to take a leap of faith.

“Come find me after the show. Gotta talk.”

The happiness faded from both his face and his eyes, and you instantly regretted the way you phrased your sentence. “Nothing bad, I promise! Just come find me, yeah?”

You had moved on to the next model, giving her a smile and a quick “Hello Mae” and began checking her dress as Harry was still processing your request. His hands were fidgeting with the fingerless gloves and he was undoubtedly about to break skin with how hard he was biting his lip. You felt like a proper idiot for making him nervous again after he was so happy.

“Calm down, would you? You’re starting to stress me out.” you laughed, giving Mae the okay and moving onto the next model. Sending him a wink, you nodded your head, making him well aware of how unserious this conversation was going to be.

A faster paced rendition of The Shadows Die Twice started playing, just as you finished checking over your designated models, indicating that it was time for the final walk through to begin. After these final few minutes, all the garments you had worked tirelessly on for months, would be totally completed. And usually, you would be filled with ease and comfort knowing you would have some time off before your next project. But this time was different.

This time, Alessandro had consulted you on many of the pieces making their way down the runway, showing just how much he valued and trusted your opinion. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be where you are today, but because of the man standing next to you, believing in your talent and putting your passion to use, you were living out a dream that you never knew you had.

“Thank you.” You whispered

“For what?”

“For believing in me enough to hire me four years ago. For not letting me give up when I was confused. For always encouraging me. Just - thank you.”

“Never have to thank me for those things, tesoro. The potential and passion inside you needs to be explored! I’m honored I get to be the one to help you embrace them!” Alessandro pulled you into a tight hug, the two of you swaying as you watched the models capture the attention of each guest one last time.

Lifting to stand on your tiptoes you whispered in Alessandro’s ear, but even though your statement was barely loud enough to be heard over the booming music, apparently it was just loud enough for your boss to hear, because his head snapped back and he grabbed you by the shoulders, holding you at arms length.

“What?!”

“Mhm.”

“Together?”

“Mhm.” It was hard not to continue your giggles at his bewildered expression.

“How come?”

You shrugged, “I guess I just have a bloody persuasive boss.”

Once again, models began entering the dressing room, but this time, instead of staying in strict model mode, they were letting loose. Smiles were spread all over their faces, rushing to give each other hugs and words of encouragement. It was a beautiful sight to watch, the release of pressure the show brought to the models and the absolute joy they were now basking in.

“Il tuo tempo per brillare, rockstar.” your time to shine, rockstar. giving his shoulder a pat, you watched as he sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself to walk the runway and accept the congratulatory applause about to be thrown his way once the last model had arrived backstage.

It was during this part, for some reason, that you always saw a bit of his nerves pop out. Maybe it was because of all the wandering eyes and unknown opinions, but walking out to thank the guests for attending seemed to be the only thing that ever made Alessandro nervous. And you would never admit it to him, but you enjoyed seeing him a bit on edge, reminded you that he wasn’t just some fashion robot, but a man who just wanted to be accepted for his unique and creative mind.

Your position in the back room made it easy to be a part of both atmosphere’s; the juxtaposition between the loud, bustling back room and angelic, calming sound of Bach - St. John Passion BWV 245: Herr echoing off of the marble walls was like a metaphor for your life these last few months. How at times, everything around you was so busy and fast paced that it was sometimes hard to get a handle on what was happening. But then moments like this happened and none of failures or pricked fingers mattered. Because watching your boss, the man you admired with all your heart and were lucky to call a friend, walk down his own runway, accepting love he deserved, on pieces you had helped create, was the most heavenly feeling you could imagine.

You watched as he made his way through the museum quickly, stopping every so often to bow his head in gratitude and send kisses to everyone in the audience.

“I see why you like this so much.”

Harry stood next to you, hands buried deep in his pants pockets, the long overcoat pushed back behind his arms, just enough that you got a good view of the sparrow tattoos and the very tip of the bird cage on his rib peaking out from under the white tank top. He didn’t look at you, instead, his eyes were trained on the monitor, watching the man who gave you each the chance to flourish in a world you never expected.

“Hmm? Why’s that?”

“Fucking exihlerating walking down that runway.” he admitted, the sentance coming out in a breathy laugh like he couldn’t believe how much fun he had. “Can’t imagine what it’s like for the people that created it all.”

“Yeah, quite hard coming down from a high like this, so he usually takes a week or so off before jumping back into things.” you chuckled, thinking back to when you’d received an influx of text messages the last time Alessandro had gone off the grid, depicting how much he loved bees and would be incorporating them into the new collection after staying on a bee farm for a few days.

“Alessandro did a phenomenal job.” he paused, finally taking his eyes away from the screen and turning his entire body so that he was now facing you. “But so did you.”

If he hadn’t been staring directly at you, he would have missed the roll of your eyes. Of course, you were thankful to be a part of something so extraordinary, but this was all Alessandro. It was all his vision and even though you were asked to help finalize a few looks, this masterpiece was all thanks to him, and you wouldn’t take credit for any of it.

But before you could explain all of that to Harry, he said your name softly, moving a tad closer so your elbow was just barely touching his stomach. “‘M serious. These may have been his finalized pieces, but you quite literally put it all together. There would be no final product without your work.”

“Harry -”

“Don’t ‘Harry’ me, wanker, you’re bloody amazing at what you do. But you don’t need me to tell you that. Everyone walking around this room is example enough.”

Receiving compliments from Harry wasn’t anything new to you. For as long as you’d known him, he was always looking for the good in people and making sure they knew about it. If you had to guess, that was probably one of the his main qualities that initially drew fans in, because all anyone wanted in life was to feel good; appreciated. And that’s exactly what he had been doing for you since the day he walked through your office doors. It was the little things that made your stomach turn to mush; holding your pin cushion when he knew it would make a session easier for you, bringing you a smoothie when you’d told him you didn’t have time to eat before a shoot, sending you funny memes in the middle of the night, or even just seeing his dimpled smile appear when he finally got to see his immaculately executed wardrobe. No matter what the circumstance was, simply being around Harry made you feel happy, calm, and you didn’t want that feeling to ever go away.

“Just look around an-”

“Do you want to go on a date?” when you’d asked him earlier to find you after the show so you could chat, you didn’t exactly expect the conversation to start out so blunt, but he just looked so cute and sincere telling you in his own way how proud of you he was.

“Wh-“

“There’s, um, there’s this really great restaurant not too far from here. Most delicious pasta you’ll ever eat, not to mention the cutest old couple on the planet runs it and they’ll def-“

“I haven’t eaten since this morning, so if you’re going to keep talking, I’ll just go eat this amazing pasta by myself.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right, that was a dumb que-“ it wasn’t his words that made you stop mid sentence, but more the soft smile that spread across his face, his dimple popping out slightly beneath his growing facial hair. There was no hesitation in his acceptance to your dinner date, contrary to what you were expecting, and it made the tips of your ears warm up. “Oh! Um, perfect. Yeah, great. Okay.”

Never had you been so flustered by the man standing before you. This wouldn’t be the first time you grab a bite to eat with him, and definitely wouldn’t be the first time the two of you spent time alone, but the way he was looking at you, like none of what he just did mattered, was definitely a first.

“Okay, um, just get dressed and I’ll meet you outside?”

“‘M serious, hurry up. Might starve to death while you’re busy chatting.” Harry joked, slowly walking away while still facing you, his finger coming out to point right at you, “Then you’ll have to explain to everyone how your desperate need to talk to everyone you come in contact with, was the reason behind the death of the Harry Styles.”

“Oi, fuck off. Says the man who made sure to learn something about every single person setting up the show today. Go get dressed before I slap the Harry Styles.”

The slight shake of his head kept your attention as he weaved his way through the bustling room, back towards the vanity he had claimed as his own. You’d watched the scene in front of you play out many times before; models spread out throughout the room, some having changed immediately into their own comfortable clothes, some tossing their heads back in eased laughter, and some every sitting back with their feet up, enjoying a basket of chips. No matter how each of them decided to unwind after such a monumental show, it never got old. Because just as they did, you had your own post show ritual.

You didn’t divulge in unhealthy foods or put on your most comfortable pair of socks; you organized your kit one last time. From the moment Alessandro sits you down with his new vision until the last model walks off the runway, you know to keep millions of pins, thread of all colors, buttons of every shape and size, and even some super glue on you at all times. They would undoubtedly get used throughout the months of alterations and mishaps, if not by you, then by a member of your team. So, taking a moment to sit and go through everything once the night was officially over was a sort of release for you. A way for you to touch and feel just how much hard work had gone into your work. How the container holding your pins was considerably lighter, the spool of black thread had nearly vanished, and the pile of band aids in the lower pocket was down to three. All signs that you put your heart and soul into this collection.

There was never any guarantee when Alessandro would find inspiration next and when his next project would begin, meaning you never knew when the next time you’d be opening your kit was. But this time, that wasn’t the case. He had planned at least three more shoots before the years end, so you were only allotted a few weeks of laid back free time this time around.

“Packing up so soon?”

“You know how I like to close out a show.” You chuckled, not turning to look at your boss, but seeing his hand reach out and fingertips graze over the very top of your bag.

“How many this time?”

“28 buttons, nearly the entire tin of pins, 64 band aids, and two mini bottles of wine.”

“You should be proud, il mio amore, that’s two less bottles than last time! It’s about progress!”

“Two less because someone yelled at me less this time around.” Finally getting back to your feet, you turned to face him and noticed that he had thrown his hair up to get it away from his sweaty forehead. “No need to drink if you aren’t crying in the fabric closet.”

“Lo faccio solo con amore, Tesoro, lo sai.” I only do it with love honey, you know. His smile was contagious as he took your hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Look at how far you’ve come. Such beautiful art comes from these hands.”

“Do you know what you’ll do until the fragrance shoot?”

“I will be taking Vanni to see my brother. A nice peaceful place to become one again. Where will you go?”

“My flat in Florence has been calling my name for weeks, Lallo.” He smiled fondly at the nickname. “Will probably do some redecorating while I’m there.”

“And some dates, no?”

“I really don’t know why I bother telling you anything. Like my father, you are.”

“Well I am the reason for this, am I not? Seems only right that I know all the details.”

“Details of what?”

“How I’m redecorating my flat in Florence.” Your response was quick, and you sent Alessandro a stern side glare so that he knew not to bring up anything of what you were just speaking of.

“Yes, I told her that I expect pictures.”

“Oh, add me to that list as well then! I’d love to see how you decorate. ‘M always looking for new inspiration.”

“Um, yeah sure. You ready?” if Harry could sense how awkward you felt when he joined you and Alessandro, he made no move to indicate it. Especially now, smiling at your agreement.

“Yup. Ready to enjoy some of Earth’s finest pasta.”

“Oh!” Alessandro brightened at Harry’s words, his back straightened, and eyes widened. “Are you taking him to Chiaro Di Luna?” you nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Magnifico! A wonderful place you will love!”

“Well he won’t love it if we keep standing here so…”

“Have fun my prodigies!”

Both you and Harry laughed quietly as you finally walked away from the man of the hour. You may have known him in different ways, but each of you got the chance to see a side of Alessandro most people didn’t – parental type figure who wanted nothing but love and prosperity for you both.

“He’s like that with you all the time as well?”

“Hmm?”

You took a glance at him when pressing the button for the lift, just to be met with his warm eyes already looking at you. He looked handsome after the show – not that he wasn’t always handsome, but something about seeing him work so hard and then look so comfortable made your chest tingle. He was wearing a pair of dark yellow corduroy pants – the flare at the ankles not nearly as large as some of the flares he owns, but wide nonetheless – paired with a red and blue striped shirt, a tiny Mickey Mouse head embroidered into the upper left breast and a black bomber jacket.  He looked relaxed and everything that spending time in Italy embodied.

“Does he turn into dad mode on you as well?”

Harry laughed, “He means well.”

It was no surprise that Harry had brought along a plethora of fans, all eagerly awaiting his presence back outside after the show, so there was no way the two of you could casually stroll out of the front doors to get to your late dinner date. Instead, you were walking through the basement hallway so that you could make your speedy escape through the lower side exit, directly across from Cafe Capitolino.

“You think you’d do another?”

“You think I’d be asked to do another?”

Your hand found it’s way up to his forehead as the two of you strolled through Piazelle Caffarelli - the quaintest little park directly across from the museum. In the bright moonlight, the beds of flowers and statues almost appeared to glow, directing your path through the garden.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking to see if you have a fever.”

“Huh?”

“You must be sick because I’m not seeing your ego anywhere.”

“Oh piss off.” he laughed, lifting his own arm so that he could slap yours - playfully - away from his face. “‘M serious.”

“So am I. You’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you doing your music thing Harry. You’re good and you know it. Where’s that attitude here?”

He was quiet as the two of you finally made it out of the garden and crossed the main street, focusing on stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets and tugging it closer to his torso. His hair had grown quite a lot since the first time you’d met him years ago, and the curls, wild from being kept under a cap for hours, were blowing in the small breeze.

“‘Dunno. I was nervous when I did the film as well. Guess doing something new like this makes me question if I’m given the chance to do it because I’m genuinely good at it, or just because they want my name on it.”

That was a surprise to you. From the moment you met him, you could feel the confidence he emitted. In fact, it rubbed off on most who were working with him. He made the people around him feel confident in themselves and what they were doing, and always encouraged when someone was feeling down.

“You’re very much wanted on this team for what you bring to it, not your name. I’m sorry if you were made to feel anything less.”

“No!” he quickly rebutted, gaining the attention of the few people wandering the street late at night. But he paid no mind to them, only focused on looking at you to make sure you heard what he was saying cearly. “You haven’t, at all. None of you have. Just don’t want to be known as the guy who gets jobs because he was in a band.”

“Can promise you that Lallo wouldn’t have asked you to be a part of so many shoots and such an important show if he didn’t completely and wholeheartedly believe you were perfect for it.”

You watched him nod and mutter a quiet I guess, the moon peeking over the Gran Caffe Roma and highlighting his eyelashes and very tip of his nose so perfectly that he began to look like a statue.

“Lallo?”

“Yeah.” a quick chuckle left your mouth, a hand coming up to rub your cheek while you thought of your response. “After I finished my first collection for him, it was a small one so he could see if I was right for the position, he took me out for drinks to celebrate me getting the job. Long story short, we both had a few too many and I started calling him Lallo and it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.” his hand was wiggling about, trying to escape the confines of the jacket pocket, and when it finally did, it brushed against your own. You both looked down at the close proximity of your hands and you felt the air immediately get thicker. He must have felt the same because when you briefly look up at him over your lashes, he was staring straight ahead; very apparently trying not to make any sudden moves.

But the millisecond the warmth of skin left yours, you wanted it back. Maybe it was the tiny kiss you shared backstage just hours ago, or the built up tension between the two of you that had started during his second campaign shoot, whatever it was, you were done dancing around the obvious. Without giving it a second thought or looking anywhere but straight ahead, you lifted your pointer finger ever so slightly. Just enough so that it gently rubbed against his. You wanted to give him the option of pursuing anything further, so just as quickly as the contact began, it ended; your fingers settling by your side yet again.

However, the breeze working it’s way between your hands didn’t last long, because almost immediately after your little move, you felt his fingers slowly creep around your hand. He didn’t move fast, almost as if he was letting the calm Italian breeze join your hands together. And slower than you would have liked, your entire hand was enclosed by his, feather touches to make sure the other was comfortable with where things had gone.

You wanted to make sure Harry knew just how okay you were with his hand keeping yours warm, so you continued talking as if nothing had happened. “‘M the only one who gets to call him that though, so don’t go parading around saying it.”

“Loud and clear. Your secret's safe with me.” he laughed, his grip on your hand tightening when a strong gust of wind blew through the small alleyway you were walking down and you shivered, “Cold?”

“No, I’m alright.” you lied, the air outside always making you significantly colder after leaving the sauna that was a fashion show back room.

Instead of letting go of the idea of you being cold, Harry lightly tugged on your joined hands, stuffing them into his jacket pocket, which then forced you to move closer to his side. Italy in May wasn’t a time you would consider cold; the sun shone nearly every day, warming your cheeks, and there was no need for anything more than a light jumper, but the warmth radiating from Harry’s side made it feel as if you were strolling around on an August day. But you welcomed it, despite the race of your heart.

“Looking forward to having some time off?”

“Absolutely. I really do need to redecorate my place. ‘M sure Lilliana hasn’t been taking care of the plants as often as I’d like so I’ll have to make a stop and pick up some new ones.”  you were mostly speaking to yourself, so you elaborated when he didn’t respond. “Lilliana is a girl who lives across the street. She’s sixteen, and has been watching my place ever since I started with Gucci. Doesn’t want to get paid or anything, only wants me to get her a meeting with Alessandro when she turns eighteen. Told her I’d see what I can do, but he’s already seen some of her designs. She’s very talented.”

“You’re really wonderful, you know.”

The compliment made the tips of your ears warm, and you were worried that the palms of your hands would start to clam up if you thought about the way you could feel him looking at you, so you quickly changed the subject, your hand clumsily sliding out of his pocket to point at the tiny restaurant in front of you.

“Here we are!”

Nestled at the very end of the alley, was your destination. Only two tables were set up outside, the tiny patio was past picturesque; it was straight out of a movie. A metal fence was surrounding the seating area on two sides - the third wall was created by the muted terracotta building and the fourth was left open for easy access. Wrapped around the very tops of the fence were some fairy lights, not enough to cover the entire thing, but enough to give a bit of lighting on the otherwise dark road, and creating a pathway to the front door, sat a nice variety of potted plants. And with the green doors to the shop left open, the smell of freshly baked bread immediately hit you and Harry in the face.

“This is amazing.” his voice was full of wonder and you appreciated the fact that even he, someone who had been around the world and back many times, never took for granted the small beauties of the world.

“Just wait until you try the food.” you smiled, bringing your hand up to your mouth in a mock chef’s kiss. “Deliziosa!”

The boisterous laugh that fell from between his lips was enough to catch the attention of whoever was working inside. It didn’t take long for them to walk down the front steps, seeing as the inside of the establishment was also small. But the second his face lit up from the wall mounted lights, you smiled.

“Lorenzo! Così bello vederti di nuovo!” Lorenzo! It’s so good to see you again!

“Mio dolce! Mi sei mancato!” My sweet! I’ve missed you! His arms opened wide as he walked down the single step, instantaneously enveloping you in a hug. He smelled of pasta sauce and pizza dough, the evidence of his hard work sprinkled across his withered cheek.

“Mi dispiace! Sai quanto può essere intenso il lavoro! Soprattutto con un capo come il mio!” I’m sorry! You know how intense work can be! Especially with a boss like mine!

You watched Lorenzo’s face light up when he pulled away from you and heard your boss’ name. The two had met ages ago and he was the one who had introduced the two of you. “Ah! Alessandro! Confido che stia bene! E chi hai portato con te questa volta, cara?” Ah! Alessandro! I trust he is doing well! And who have you brought with you this time, dear?

Feeling bad for leaving Harry out of the brief conversation, you angled your body so that you were now facing him, moving your hand between the two men in front of you. “Lorenzo, this is Harry. Harry, Lorenzo.”

True to his nature, Harry immediately stuck his hand out and offered a ‘you alright?’ to the older gentleman, but Lorenzo was having none of that. Completely ignoring the waiting hand, and having to stand a bit on his toes in order to wrap his arms around the younger man’s upper back, he pulled Harry in for a tight hug.

“Any friend of hers is a friend of mine! Benvenuto!”

“Hai un… posto bellissimo qui!” Lorenzo’s smile grew as the two separated and Harry slowly racked his mind for the right words. “Was that right?”

“It was! Thank you, we do love it here!”

“Speaking of..” you cut in, “I know it’s late but do you think we could steal a plate or two?”

“For you, mio caro, anything.” he lifted his calloused hand to gently pat your cheek. “Why don’t the two of you sit down and I will bring you a few dishes. I’ve got some fettuccine alla carbonara if you’d like. I’m sure I can find something else if-”

“That sounds wonderful, Lorenzo, thank you.”

You watched as his frail figure made its way back into the shop, taking an extra second to carefully climb the single step. It was the perfect night to sit outside and enjoy one of your favorite meals, but even more perfect to turn around and see Harry holding a chair out, waiting for you to join him at the table.

“Thank you.” you hoped the smirk you were trying to hide wasn’t visible in the dimly lit back alley and he couldn’t tell how much the small gesture made your heart race.

“So tell me,” he sighed once he finally sat down next to you, his forearms leaning against the small wooden table so that he could look directly at you. “You really like the food here or do you just keep coming back because he adores you?”

“I take offense that you think I’d use my charming personality just to get a free plate of pasta.” the stare shared between you both was one of comedy - his eyebrow raised in question and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, “I use it for two.”

“I knew it.”

“It really is the best, swear it! Tried to get him to teach me the recipe once but he won’t budge. Says he won’t allow it to leave the family.”

“He always here this late? Seems to be a bit… old… to be here at quarter eleven.” he never broke eye contact while speaking to you, but his fingers began to roam around, slowly inching towards your own empty hands. There was no move to do anything more than brush his fingers against yours, but you longed for him to envelop your smaller ones in his.

“For as long as I’ve known him. Always comes in to prep for the people who come in at five the next morning.”

“Good bloke.” he nodded, craning his neck a bit so he could look around him, “You know, I’ve always wanted to have my own restaurant.”

A deep belly laugh spilled from your lips upon hearing his words, your body’s finally making contact when you lifted your hand and placed it on his forearm to ground yourself.

“What’s so funny about that?” his voice held a certain aura of feigned offence, but you knew not to take it too seriously by the bright smile covering his face. It was a different kind of smile than you were used to seeing him give, but you welcomed it and never wanted to see it end. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle a tad more than normal, mouth open a bit wider, and entire body lean forward.

“Harry, I’ve known you nearly three years. Never once have I heard you mention wanting to have your own restaurant. I’ve been told a lawyer, a florist, even a physiotherapist, but a chef? Can you even cook?”

“Now I'm offended! I’ll have you know that I used to cook for the band all the time!”

“Beans on toast doesn't count as cooking, Harry.”

“Leave off.” somewhere during your mock argument and Harry laughing at you, his hand had fully found its way to yours, wrapping around it carefully as not to disturb the perfect peace the two of you had going. “You’ll just have to come over so I can prove to you just how good I am.”

Obviously he didn’t mean it in any other way than a friend inviting another friend over for a nice meal, but the way his tongue jut out before speaking, leaving his lips shining and nearly begging for attention, made the sentence mean a lot more to you than he led on.

“Well, I’ll hold you to that, mate.”

“Don’t mate me while I’m holding your hand, mate.” you swear it was like Harry was trying to push every single last button you had. Not only was he smirking while giving your hand a squeeze, but with each word, he seemed to be gradually leaning closer to you.

Almost as if he was waiting for the most perfectly inopportune moment, Lorenzo made his presence known with the clink of two wine glasses that echoed through the small alley. The sound made you and Harry separate as quickly as possible and look towards the older man.

“Two dishes of my world famous fettuccine paired with the best bottle of wine you could ask for!”

“But we didn’t ask for wine, Lorenzo.”

“It’s alright because you are new here, but when I give you a bottle of wine, you take it.”

“He says it makes for a better experience.” you shrug, taking the glasses and bottle from the tray so that he would have an easier time setting down your plates.

“Non puoi goderti i frutti del tuo lavoro senza un po ‘di divertimento!”

“Yeah yeah, as you say. Now take this before I stay here all night and give it to Mateo, because you know he’ll take it.” you tried handing him a few folded up fifties, but you weren’t surprised when he didn’t accept, but insead, backed away from your outstretched hand.

“Mio caro, no. I do not want that from you. I just enjoy seeing your beautiful face every now and again.”

“Lorenzo, you know I won’t stop. Please”

“You are too much, ragazza dolce. Please come tell me if you need anything more.”

“What did he say to you just then? I caught fruit and fun but that’s where it stops.” Harry asked as soon as the older man was out of ear shot. He was trying hard to look at you, but the steaming plate of food before you both was enough to pull anyone’s attention away, so you didn’t fault him for being mesmerized.

“Come on, hot shot, have your Italian lessons taught you nothing?”

“Wow you’re really riding me tonight, huh?” if only. “I’m busy alright. Got a lot going on up here.” he used his pointer and middle finger to tap against his temple, “Gets hard to remember things sometimes.”

“You know I’m just taking the piss.” unable to wait any longer, you began to twist your fork in the pasta while giving him an explanation. “Said you can’t enjoy the fruits of your labor without having a little fun.”

“He’s got a point you know.”

“If you try and tell me that I need to be prouder of my work, I will dump all of that food on the ground before you even have the chance to try it.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Not if it’s as good as you say it is.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious, love.” Harry had called you many pet names since your first meeting, but love had never been one of them. It sounded so comforting falling his lips, like it was the only word you wanted to hear for the rest of time, and it made your insides instantly warm - and it wasn’t from the wine. “You’re outrageously talented. Everyone on the planet can see it except for you.”

“I’m proud of what I do, Harry. Just don’t feel like it’s right to take any bit of credit for something I only helped put together.” sure, you helped transform the clothing from pieces of mixed matched fabrics into the collections that hit the runways, but they weren’t your ideas or designs, so you felt only fair to give credit where it was rightfully due.

“Alright. Fine then. If you won’t take credit for your work, I’ll do it for you.” he cleared his throat after finishing off his glass of wine, back straightening and his chest puffing out after filling with air. “Hello!” he shouted, followed by introducing your name, “I am the lead tailor for Gucci and I just completed my fourth Cruise Collection!”

“Shh!! Harry!” you really did try to keep it together while tugging on his arm, but you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped as he kept shouting praising about you to the empty Roman streets.

“I’m one of the best in the world and everyone is absolutely dying to work with me!”

“Harry!” you laughed again, this time, cupping your hand over his lips that he couldn’t say anymore. “I get it, my god.”

“Do you? Because I can do it again. Hello -”

“I do, thank you.” your smile was genuine, truly appreciating the fact that he always had such nice things to say about you and your work. “But please just shut up and eat, yeah?”

Finally the two of you were silent, smiling to yourselves so that you could enjoy your awaiting food. Until you weren’t.

A loud moan from next to you quickly made your head snap up in desperate need to see where it had come from. There was no one else it could have come from, but to hear the sound fall from Harry’s mouth wasn’t something you were prepared for. Nor was the sight of carbonara sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck you were right.” he moaned again, this time much smaller, “This is the greatest pasta on the planet.”

“Thought you would’ve learned by now that there are very few times that’d I’m not right.”

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the man indoors, who when you looked up over Harry’s shoulder, you saw standing in the window smiling and giving you a thumbs up. Of course he was on the same page as Alessandro and would be trying to put both you and Harry in the mood for a romantic night. But to hear the chords of ‘So This Is Love’ play through whatever speaker he had in his kitchen, really did surprise you.

“Lorenzo!” you yelled, not caring about waking whatever kind of neighbors he had

“What?”

“Really?”

“I just turned on my music, mio caro! Please enjoy your meal.”

Snickering from next to you made you roll your eyes,  “Don’t laugh at him, you’re only egging him on, Harry.”

“‘M not, I’m not!” you sent him a pointed look, taking the last gulp of wine from your glass and pouring yet another. “Alright, maybe just a little. But only because I think ya look cute when you’re flustered, is all.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, because you’re a right bellend.”

“Only to a select few!” the sound of his light laugh was drowned out by the creaking of his chair as he pushed it backwards. In a second, he was at his feet, ignoring your question of ‘what are you doing?’ to stand in front of you. “Signora.” his mouth may not have made any movements to smile, but you could see his eyes holding one back.

He mocked bowed, resting one arm behind his back as the other hand engulfed one of your sitting on top of the table. The pads of his fingers caressed the inside of your hand as he gently picked it up, slowly slotting your two hands together. It felt like an out of body experience, like you were watching the scene happen as an onlooker, instead of being a part of it. Because the second he picked his head up from the bow, his eyes met yours. Hundreds of unidentified thoughts raced through your mind and your breathing stopped when he picked up your hand completely, the distance between it and his lips growing short and shorter every second. With one quick, quiet, exhale falling from your lips, he placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles, keeping his eyes set on yours.

It could have been every innocent moment the two of you had spent together over the last two and a half years, or watching him perform his heart out just hours ago in garments that you literally built, or maybe even the way his eyes sparkled in the Italian moonlight, but staring at him as he stood back up straight, his hand still holding yours, you wanted nothing more than to jump his bones.

“Care to dance?”

It wasn’t the spark that radiated through your hands or the wind pulling at your blouse, but the look of endearment in Harry’s eyes that made you stand from your chair, accepting his offer. His free arm wound around your waist while yours rested on his shoulders, your body now flush against his. It wasn’t the perfect setting for be slow dancing; the twinkling lights were barely bright enough for you to see where you were stepping, the cobblestone beneath your trainers made the arches of your feet hurt, and the open space was very limited between the table and building, but the soft instrumental of ‘Bella notte’ playing from inside the shop and the wine flowing through your veins, made it something out of a dream.

The sun shone in through the window and straight into your eyes, making you blink awake with a small wrinkle between your brows. First thing you noticed was that you were sleeping in the cream blouse you had worn the night before, your trousers off and hopefully, you thought to yourself, so was most of your make-up as well. Second thing you noticed was the hand on your hip and the other under your head, the breathing against your skin and the forehead against your neck. Third… was something else entirely…

Memories from the night before came back in bits and pieces, bringing a small smile to your face. How you and Harry had both drunkenly stumbled down the hallway at like one, how you had struggled to get the key to your room in the lock, and how Harry had playfully pushed you out of the way to help you with it. How he helped you indoors, and how you’d asked him to stay. There hadn’t been a sexual intent behind the words, just an infatuated drunk speaking truthfully to another. You remember asking Harry to not look as you took your trousers off, and that you thought it’d be a good idea to take your bra off but sleep in your silk blouse. Harry on the other hand, kept all his clothes on, laying down beside you in bed and told you goodnight before you’d even managed to get yourself properly under the sheets. He must’ve been exhausted. It’d been a long day after all.

You woke up in the spooning position; his arm resting across your hip, breathing onto your skin, forehead against your neck, holding you close. Even before Harry woke up and noticed what was going on, you tried to understand why you felt like something wasn’t as it usually was. You felt Harry’s sharp intake of breath behind you and then him moving his head away from you, lifting the hand that had been placed on your hip, running it over his face. It wasn’t till you were about to turn around to face him that you both realised what was resting between you. You both stopped abruptly, silence filling the room around you.

“Bollocks.” Harry hissed between his teeth, glancing down at where his morning wood pressed against his yellow trousers and your ass and thigh. “So sorry.” He didn’t really know how to move as to not make it worse. Walking away from bed would mean you’d have to see the bulge in his trousers, but staying there would be absolute fucking torture.

You tried your hardest not to giggle, feeling a flush wave through your body.

“I-I… I don’t know what to do now. Sorry.” Harry said, feeling so embarrassed he was unsure what the next right thing to do would be.

Thinking back on everything that had happened, on everything that had transpired between the two of you, you suddenly felt a surge of dominance run through you. The countless times you’d waited for Harry to kiss you, the times he could’ve reached for your hand in the silence of the moment, the hundreds of hours you’d spent smiling at each other. The numerous missed opportunities. All the ‘what if’s. You hated them all, but they’d led you to this moment. It had all came down to this. Here, now. You two, in bed, Harry grunting in frustration into the pillow and you smiling to yourself, not at all sorry for him waking up hard against you. In fact, you didn’t mind it at all. After everything last night, this felt right. After absolutely everything you two had been through, it didn’t feel weird.

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Harry there with his eyes shut tightly.

“What’re you doing?”

His cheeks were red, obviously incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “Willing my woodie away, what does it bloody look like?”

You couldn’t help your laughter, shaking into Harry who smiled at the sound of your exclamations of joy. Slowly, you moved your arse against him, feeling his erection between your bumcheeks. Harry stilled, watching you with wide eyes as you did it again. Reaching behind you, you took a grip of Harry’s hand that had been on your hip earlier, placing it back there so he could feel you swaying against him. You felt an inhale of breath against you, then Harry’s fingers instantly grip onto you. He watched you as you continued to roll your hips against him, loving the hot feeling it sent to the spot between your legs. You hummed, biting your lip as you glanced down at Harry’s hand on your bare skin, letting him see just how much you liked this.

Instantly, he moved closer to you, wrapping the arm he’d been resting under your neck around you, taking a grip of your shoulder. The other one he slowly slid further down, moving closer and closer to the space between your legs that ached for him. You closed your eyes as he hovered above you, laying his palm flat against your cunt, the breathy and barely audible moan that left your lips driving him insane. Laying some pressure on you, you inhaled sharply, both your hands gripping the arm wrapped around your neck. The heat that had started in the very bottom of your stomach intensified, and got even hotter when he ran his fingers seductively over you. Feather-like touches, soft kisses to your cheek and neck, absolutely nothing mattered but the fire that was being ignited in your core.

Harry pushed your knickers aside, running his ring and middle finger between your folds. While doing so, he pushed your hips to rock against him, causing a friction between the two of you unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. You gasped, opening your eyes and looking at Harry who was watching you more intently than you’d ever seen before. He looked so hot like that, demanding you to please him while he was pleasing you. Wanting to make you feel just as good as you’d made him feel.

You reached down, wiggling your hips as you dragged your knickers down your legs. You threw them somewhere far away before turning back to Harry. This time, you sat up and onto his lap, looking down on him while you rested your hands at the zipper of his yellow trousers. He let out a small breath, heart hammering against his chest as he watched you sit on him like that; look at him like that. He’d never thought he’d be lucky enough to find himself in this position, and yet, here he was. You reached for his zipper, undoing it as Harry did both the buttons. You sat up on your knees helping Harry as he tried to get out of his trousers, but it seemed harder than either of you thought.

“Just get them off.” You said, reaching behind you to push them further down.

“Not so easy when you’re on top of me like that.” Harry answered, sitting up to drag them off. Your faces were suddenly very close.

“Alright, I’ll get off-“

“-No,” he answered abruptly. “Please don’t.”

You stopped, letting Harry take his trousers off and throw them to the ground, not breaking eye contact with you once. You felt him against you, felt how hot he was for you like you were for him; how badly he wanted you. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he glanced back up into your eyes again, lips parting as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words for it. You had taken control so far, so you watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do something. And it was as if he knew your thoughts exactly. He took a grip of the back of your neck, bringing you to him.

The second your lips met, you closed your eyes, melting into the kiss and melting into Harry. You hadn’t really shared a proper kiss till now, only having had that small peck and him kissing your hand. But this was a real kiss. You tasted him, felt him. Surrounding you and everything you knew in those sublime seconds your lips were pressed against one another. Heavenly, carefully, gingerly, Harry slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you welcomed him completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. He pulled you to him, devouring one another unapologetically. Now that you were kissing, dragging out the delicious moment, you weren’t holding back anymore. The kisses were hungry, desperate, wet. Nothing had ever tasted better than Harry, nothing had ever felt better than him either. You wondered why you’d waited so long to kiss one another, what had taken so long. Because now you couldn’t think of not doing just that.

You wanted to kiss him till the end of time. Wanted to feel as his hands roamed your body, how his tongue swirled around yours, how his lips got more and more swollen as you continued on making out. Forever, and maybe even longer than that if you were allowed; you wanted to kiss Harry forever. It felt so good, so right. Like tasting every good thing that had ever happened to you all at once, combined into one thing. Harry.

Moaning your name, you felt him grip your bum, squeezing it hard as he dragged you over him. He wanted some friction as bad as you; wanted you. It felt so good knowing Harry was as desperate as you, that he felt the same way and wasn’t ashamed of admitting that he did. You had no idea where your infatuation had begun, had no idea how you had fallen in love with Harry. You just were and that was how it was supposed to be. It had always supposed to be the two of you. Whenever something feels right, you get a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, like it’s your soul telling you that you’ve reached your final destination; you’ve gotten where you’re supposed to be. And you felt that very feeling right now, in Harry’s arms, kissing him, feeling him hard against you.

You pushed him back down on the bed, bending over him to continue kissing. He instantly gripped your arse again, begging you to rock against him so he could get some small friction. You refused however, and instead buried your hands in his hair, dragging out the tongue filled, wet, lustful kisses. It was excruciating, Harry thought to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to force you to do anything as he didn’t want this moment to be over. If you wanted to drag this out, then he would not stop you. He was making out with you, you were almost naked on top of him, he got to touch you all over. He wasn’t going to take this for granted.

There didn’t seem to be an end to your kisses, they seemed to be going on and on and on. Not that either of you were complaining, but at one point it was hard to remember how the rest of the morning had gone before you’d started snogging. You suddenly realised just how naked you were, that only your cream blouse was covering your torso, that the rest of you were on display for Harry. But he was way too busy kissing you to pay notice to anything else.

You tugged at the end of his tee shirt and he quickly took it off, letting it fall off the side of the bed before turning his attention back on you again. You ran your hand down his front, wanting to feel his skin under yours unashamedly. Every time you’d touched him before had been under a work setting, but this one was quite different. The hands touching him now were those of a lover, not his tailor. They were the hands of a desperate woman who wanted nothing more than to be with Harry in any way one human could be with another.

Resting your hands at the top of Harry’s boxers, Harry frantically followed your lead, being there to help you get them off. He was ready to do exactly as you told him to, knowing that he was and always would be at your complete and total disposal. As his boxers came off, his cock sprang loose, and you couldn’t help but look down at it. Harry watched you as you took him in, finding you checking him out like this incredibly hot. A wave of excitement and adoration ran through him, so captivated and altogether in love with you that he was sure in that moment and every moment that followed, he would lay down the rest of his life and himself to you wholly.

You took a grip of his cock, looking into his eyes after positioning him right at your hole. He didn’t take his eyes off you, knowing that what was just about to happen would change everything for you and your friendship. Not that all of last night and the rest of this morning hadn’t done that already, but sex complicates things. It’s hard not to form an emotional attachment to those you choose to have sex with, and it’s even harder to forget said person you have sex with if you’re in love with them. But regardless of that, both of you wanted to do this. You wanted to shag; wanted one another.

You guided him into you, holding onto him till he was all the way in. Your lips parted and Harry let out a low moan, your warm walls around him almost being too much to take. Positioning your knees well on either side of his waist, you sat up on his lap again, and started moving your hips over him. Harry gripped your thighs, squeezing them tight and looking up at you with his mouth agape. Your blouse hung loosely off you, unbuttoned to the point of one of your tits showing. It fell off one of your shoulders as you rocked over Harry, revealing even more of you to Harry in the bright morning light.

He moved one of his hands upward, running it up your arm, over your collarbone, to your neck. His thumb ran over your jawline, wanting to feel all of your soft skin under his fingertips. You looked down at him, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes met his. Already the familiar burn of a climax started building up in your core, reminding you of how long it had truly been since you’d found yourself in this position prior to this. Not that it even mattered, because right now you were having sex with Harry and he felt so fucking good inside you and underneath you, you would never get tired of this feeling.

You slid your hands down his front, dragging your nails along this skin till you reached his abdomen, where you let them rest. Harry’s eyes fell to your hands, relishing in the feeling of you touching him everywhere, of you being everywhere. Nothing mattered but you and the magic you were creating between the two of you. The soft skin of the inside of your thighs resting against his hips and ribs, his tattooed arms caressing your entire body. Heavy breathing, the occasional moan.

He moaned your name, hand sliding down your chest, rubbing his thumb over your exposed nipple. The burn in your core was really starting to build up now, and you knew it would burst any second. Harry sat up, wrapping an arm around your middle. You gasped a little in surprise, but your heart instantly started beating faster at him being so close to you. His grip was tight, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening, it sent a wave of butterflies straight to your tummy. All of them flew directly to your core as Harry started moving his hips more with yours.

“Look so good on me like that, you do.” He whispered against your lips, his voice still having that morning rasp to it that sent a shiver up your spine.

You wrapped an arm around his neck, resting the other one on his shoulder as you continued to rock your hips against him. His eyes were hooded, but there was something in them that was so soft it took your breath away. When you know someone inside and out, you notice every single little change in their behaviour. This wasn’t tiny, though, because there was a type of vulnerability in Harry’s eyes that you hadn’t seen there before. He was laying himself completely bare, both physically and emotionally, wanting to connect and attach himself to you on every level a human possibly could.

Being this close, your movements got shorter and quicker. Bending his knees, Harry brought you flush to his torso, your hips and his moving rhythmically, hard against one another. Everything felt electric, everything felt hot. You wanted to melt into him and have you two sitting like this for eternity. Wanted to stare into his eyes, feel his warm breath on your skin, have his arm around your waist and the other hand on her cheek. Having him inside you like this, feeling him grip you hard, whimper against your lips, moan your name, you felt incredibly powerful and so, so good. There was something so magical about this moment, about you two joined like this. Something words lacked the ability to articulate and something your hearts didn’t quite understand yet but wanted to. He reached his hand down to your bum, squeezing you hard.

“Harry.” You moaned, feeling your hips and knees begin to ache from sitting like this. Not that you cared much, because the wild look in Harry’s eyes was enough of a reason for her to endure it a hundred times more.

“Yeah?” he mumbled against you. “You like that?”

Biting your lip, you glanced into his eyes, letting your look speak for itself. Harry moaned, letting his hand fall to the bed and the other to your thigh, pressing you harder around him. You were both close, clinging harder onto one another. The heat in the pit of your stomach grew bigger and bigger, threatening to burst with every grind, every moan, every touch. He thrusts harder into you, entranced as he watched you gasp and moan loudly.

“Fuck me.” You said, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck.

“As much as you want me to, baby.” He kissed your jawline, nails digging into your thigh. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

You gasped, feeling the heat get more intense. Harry felt your movements get more frantic and he moved his hips quicker, meeting yours and creating a friction so heavenly it caused you to lose all control.

“Don’t stop.” You gasped, looking into Harry’s eyes as everything started to blur.

“Fuck.” He hissed, feeling your legs start to shake around him. You came hard. Harry watching you intently, holding back his own release to watch every last second of yours; to make sure you were done before he allowed his own climax. You gasped for breath and moaned ad repeated Harry’s name over and over and over again until it felt like it was the only word you were able to pronounce.

Harry came right after her, a furrow appearing between his brows and lips parted. His hands tightened around her, holding onto her for dear life as he came in her. He stilled, neck vein showing, and he moaned and moaned and moaned. It was so hot, he sounded so sexy. You watched him till he came down, feeling his cum sliding down the inside of your thigh as he slipped out of you. You breathed together for a few moments before looking at one another, suddenly laughing a little at what you’d just done. He rested his forehead against your chest, feeling you breathe with him.

“That was a thing that just happened.” You said, making Harry laugh.

“That just happened.”

“We just did that.”

You both laughed, holding onto one another still, not willing to let go. For the time being, you two were the only thing that mattered, nothing outside your room existed. But then you laid your eyes on the clock by the nightstand and jumped off Harry. He watched you, wide eyed and confused.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be at Alessandro’s hotel room in five minutes to go over yesterday, and some other stuff.” You said while you ran to the bathroom, needing to get washed up and dressed as quickly as possible.

Harry got out of bed, quickly putting his boxers and tee shirt on. “When’re you done?”

“Dunno.”

“Meet me for breakfast.” Harry said as you ran back out, new pair of knickers on and rummaging through your wardrobe. “I’ll text you the location.”

“Harry, I-“

“-Please.”

You looked over at him as you put your trousers on, smiling at his pleading words. “Text me.”

He smiled back before looking around the room. “Where are my trousers?”

“I’ll find them later, just piss off because I need to leave.” You ran towards the door with your laptop in hand and Harry – looking quite mortified – followed. He pulled his room key out as you were closing the door, about to run down the corridor for Alessandro’s room when you felt a hand around your wrist. Harry pulled you back toward him, pressing his lips against yours. You both smiled into the kiss, feeling absolutely elated and still not sure how to process what had just happened.

“Hurry.” Harry mumbled against your lips before kissing you again. “I’ll be waiting with that morning after pill.”

“Good.”

Harry smiled. “Now, be off.”

You giggled, giving him one last peck before running down towards Alessandro.

Everything that happened between you and Harry over the last 30 months had culminated to this point; you rushing out of the room after sharing an unexpected, intimate morning together. Looking back on it, you knew that each longing look you gave him had a hidden meaning behind it. You wanted this. Maybe not right away, but the more you got to know Harry, the more you wanted to be more than just his tailor. There had always been more between the two fo you, you just had not figured it out till now.

The way he watched you with admiration while you worked, gave you praises when you were feeling down - quite literally shouting them from the streets - and spoke to you in a way that had your mind in the clouds, it all slowly built over time.

It built until you couldn’t handle it any longer and needed to show Harry just how deeply you were falling for him.

Knocking on Alessandro’s door you quickly tired to fix your hair, aware that you looked like a right mess. Because of your morning antics and inability to keep track of time, you hadn’t given your appearance a single thought. Once Alessandro opened the door, his eyes widened as he saw you standing there panting and looking distressed, instant regret hit you for not at least brushing through your hair. Alessandro would know something had happened, having known you for so long, he’d see right through you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.”

Alessandro smiled knowingly, nodding his head as he let you in. You just raised your eyebrows, but Alessandro didn’t make another comment. You’d told him enough.

“I stopped by Harry’s room last night, wanted to congratulate him on the show and how well he did, but he wasn’t in. Any idea where he was?”

“Nope. None. Maybe he was having a wee.”

Alessandro nodded again, walking over to sit down by the table in his suite along with his event manager, head stylist, and fabric coordinator. Tons of sketches of new outfits and plans for upcoming events laid out on the table, ready to be discussed. You sat down with them, ready to take notes. You had already been a little late, so you didn’t want to do anything else wrong today. Full on concentrating, you didn’t take your eyes off the laptop for almost 30 minutes, and when you did, it was to check your phone. You’d gotten two text messages, both from Harry.

Harry Don’t forget my yellow trousers. They’re my favourite pair. x

Harry Had an amazing time this morning, by the way. Can’t wait to see you later. x

You couldn’t help the smile that spread out over your face at the messages, and you didn’t realise just how wide your smile was till Alessandro cleared his throat beside you. You looked up, turning your phone around and looking right back at your laptop as if nothing had happened.

“What’s got you smiling?” Alessandro questioned, raising his eyebrows.

“Hmm? Nothing.” You answered, trying to refocus on the document before you.

Alessandro looked down at your phone, smiled, and went on with the meeting. There would be no hiding what happened between you and Harry. Somehow, someway, the man sitting before you would hear how his ‘two prodigies’ had finally gotten together, and when that day happened, you’d never hear the end of it. Hell, he constantly reminded you that without him, the two of you would have likely never met so it was his doing that you had a best friend in Harry.

So what was he to say when he found out you and Harry were now more than friends?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #1dff

[iamanartichoke]

I am literally about to cry here that people are wanting to blame Tom...that...I don't even have the words...I'm sad, angry, and disappointed...it feels like people who are so ready to blame him shouldn't be fans... I don't want to say that so strongly though because I know at some point they must have loved him and Loki too...but if they no longer like what Disney/Marvel, and MAYBE Tom (executive producer doesn't necessarily hold much weight) is doing with the character, then maybe they should simply faze out of the fandom, or that section of the fandom, or stick with the older stuff...or at least don't be hating on others who are happy about it....I don't know how to avoid the hate on my dash and it's making me very sad (understatement)

So - for one thing, I’m really sorry that you’re feeling upset; I know what it’s like to see posts on your dash that get to you and send you down a spiral. I really do get it and sympathize. I recommend filtering tags to the best of your ability and unfollowing/blocking people who are posting things that bring you down.

But I feel like this ask is a double-edged sword, smh. I don’t know how to answer it bc I get what you mean but I think there’s two different issues being addressed here - one being that people shouldn’t be blaming Tom personally for his creative role (which I absolutely agree with) and the second being that people shouldn’t be in this fandom space/call themselves fans of Tom/Loki if they’re not happy about the show (which I absolutely do not agree with). 

First of all, yes - I’ve been consistently saying this over the past couple of days: regardless of how you feel about the series, it’s not okay to cross the line into blaming Tom personally if that blame leaves the fandom space and progresses into harassment of actual people (esp. Tom). I am not saying I’ve seen anyone do that, nor do I think anyone I know/am friends with here would do that. I am just saying that when you start assigning personal blame, it has the potential to get sticky so better to just keep your feelings focused on the material itself (whether that be the writing, directing, or acting choices made).  

HOWEVER. I really don’t think it’s fair to say that if people don’t like the show, or what it may do to the character, or Tom’s contributions to it, that they don’t belong in this fandom space anymore and/or shouldn’t participate, or should just stick to “the old stuff.” It’s really not fair at all; that’s exactly the kind of rhetoric that should be avoided bc it implies that the only way to be a “real” fan or a “true” fan is to feel happy, excited, etc about new content and developments, as opposed to feeling disappointed, negative, or upset bc it seems that the canon is going in a direction that no longer aligns with what drew the person to the character in the first place. 

People need to realize that you can be critical of things and still enjoy them. You can also be critical of things bc you don’t enjoy how it’s progressed, but you still care deeply about the original material. You can connect to a character and feel protective of that character and want to engage with that character and still feel like the current canon of that character isn’t your cup of tea. And, yes, you can disagree with Tom’s interpretations and choices when it comes to how he’s portraying Loki (whether it be in his acting choices or his creative contributions or both). You're allowed to think for yourself.  

I really dislike the implication that being a fan = 100% loving everything about it, and being critical = 100% being a hating anti who shouldn’t even be here.

But I see it all the time. 98% of the “positive” posts regarding the show right now include some kind of shade thrown at the other side - ie, “omg stop whining,” or “how can you hate it without even seeing it? Trailers are misleading!” (interesting how that never works the opposite way, though - how can you love it without even seeing it? I digress.) to “Tom’s in control here, this is his Loki, and if you don’t like it then maybe you don’t actually understand the real Loki and should stick to fanfiction or better yet just leave.” 

^^ Obviously I’m paraphrasing, but my point is that the people who are unhappy are clearly and appropriately tagging their disappointment posts, and are not going around hating on anyone who’s excited, and the same cannot be said for the other side. I can only speak for my own experiences but I have seen ‘negativity’ consistently tagged, and kept to posts where the discussion is among like-minded people, and I have also seen the above vagueposting as well as unprompted posts like “lol guess what’s being complained about today” as well as the so-called positive people hopping onto negative posts in order to tell people to shut up and stop complaining before we’ve even seen the finished product. 

So. My point in all of this is - 1) I discourage people from personally blaming Tom bc fandom and social media have created this weird culture where hate campaigns against celebs are launched all the time, and it’s not okay, but 2) that doesn’t mean that the criticism, disappointment, and/or negativity shouldn’t exist at all, or shouldn’t be discussed, and 3) it is not anyone’s right to say who belongs in fandom and who doesn’t because the last time I checked, fandom was for everybody and if we could all just stop being assholes and play nicely with one another like the good lord intended, none of this would even be an issue. 

#i hope this makes sense and i hope i don't sound hostile #and if i do i apologize #but idk maybe it's just me? and how my brain works? but it seems like people can't even have conflicting opinions #like either you love it or you hate it #and if you hate it you hate tom #and if you love it you're mad that people hate it #and apparently 'criticism is fine' equals 'blame tom! what a traitor!' and saying #no actually let's not blame tom kthx then it's #omg can you believe? people shouldn't even be here #if they're gonna hate on tom #amirite #like #let's just share the fucking sandbox without worrying about who's building castles and who's digging moats #smh #a nonny mouse #tag rambles #loki series: just drink what's in the glass #tom hiddleston is my favorite unicorn #i am sorry that i ramble so much #dear lord. #Anonymous

[jimmygibbsjrrr]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Slaters

namely, I've been wonderin why the Fairfield Survivors got thrown off the boat in Death Toll

in this panel of The Sacrifice comic, Francis confirms the fates of three of the rescue vehicles:

Image ID:

A panel from The Sacrifice: Part 1. Francis is sat in the rescue vehicle from Blood Harvest, speaking to Louis. His dialogue is as follows:

"Louis, I hate to be the one to break this to ya, but we been heading to the safe zone four times now. Helicopter: crashed. Plane: crashed. Boat: kicked us out and left us to die."

/end ID

the chopper from No Mercy was confirmed crashed in Crash Course, and as for the plane from Dead Air, it was pretty easy to guess (and would have been confirmed in the cut campaign Dam It).

but the part about the boat? that's the Slaters' boat from Death Toll. this is the first time we learn this information.

so...why? what happened?

(more under the cut, ended up writing wayyyy more than I expected over these past few days and don't wanna clog people's dashes lol)

so. let's take a quick dive into the last chapter of Death Toll, to see what we can discern about the Slaters from their dialogue.

the rescue vehicle in Death Toll is a civilian boat, Saint Lidia II, owned by John and Amanda Slater, a married couple. Amanda is never heard in-game, but John's reactions to her can be heard over the radio.

the Slaters are explicitly looking for "anyone out there with firearms". John later adds that "once you get on this boat? Your job is keeping our asses alive". it appears that their motivation for saving the Survivors is selfish from the get-go.

this is undoubtedly true in Amanda's case, however, some of John's lines betray a more selfless attitude. he will berate Amanda for not "think[ing] about the little guy". he will ask, "So what, then? We leave 'em to die? I can't do that, Amanda." whilst Amanda is thinking purely of their own survival, John still feels compassionate towards his fellow survivors. despite this, he says that "I don't want our first act of kindness to be our last", acknowledging the conflict between his compassion and his self-preservation.

so. these are the Survivor's saviours in Death Toll. a conflicted married couple looking for bodyguards, offering to take the Survivors upriver to a military safe zone in exchange for protection.

as for why they get thrown off the boat...well, the easiest explanation would be Amanda.

but, stay with me here, because I think it's a little more complicated than that.

this boat? fulla tension. there's the obvious tension between the Slaters, who we've established seem to fight and disagree regularly. then there's the inevitable tension between them and the Survivors. I reckon Louis, with his generally positive and friendly attitude, wouldn't have much of a problem with them, might even attempt some friendly conversation or something. however, he's about the only one.

the comic fully establishes Bill as caring about nobody except the Fairfield Survivors - the most obvious evidence of this being the words he lives and dies by, "we look after our own". he isn't particularly interested in other people, unless they can help the group out. and he'd likely recognise the unstable and conditional nature of their rescue. while I'm sure he'd try and keep the peace, in any reasonable disagreement or fight Bill's likely to take his friends' side, and if anyone's getting thrown off the boat Bill is going with them. this goes for the whole group, to be honest; I don't think they'd want to split up at this point.

Francis hates boats, hates water, and can't swim, so (and I'm getting a little speculate-y here) would probably be in an even sourer mood than usual on the journey. being as abrasive as he is, plus this additional stress, it's fully possible he could piss off the Slaters enough to get himself (or all of them) thrown off the boat.

as for Zoey? well, I don't imagine a married couple who constantly argues is gonna sit well with her, considering her backstory. similarly to Francis, the situation they're in would make her far more stressed, making it more likely for her to lash out.

Amanda didn't want to save the Survivors in the first place, so while I think that John wouldn't throw them off the boat without reason, I reckon she could persuade him to throw them off if they 'caused trouble' - and they would get into an argument with her far easier than they would with John.

in short: yeah, I can see them getting thrown off the boat by the Slaters after some huge fight or disagreement. I think that's a reasonable interpretation of canon, and definitely an interesting concept.

...however, I do wonder if this tension would really be enough to destabilise their mutual need, after everything they went through to come together.

which is why I'm going to bring up The Last Stand!

I gotta quickly address something before this segment: yeah, I'm totally aware this campaign isn't canon. this evidence works with the fact that it exists in an 'alternate timeline'. also, I am missing a few citations for this section - if anyone can provide them I'd really appreciate it, but just a disclaimer that I currently can't prove some of the things the wiki claims members of the Last Stand Community Update Team have said. here and here are the wiki pages where I got this information. in short - the above explanation is simpler and more canon compliant, the conclusion I draw at the end of this post is backed by shakier evidence but I believe is more interesting, and you can make of all that what you will.

allegedly, members of the Last Stand Community Update Team confirmed a strongly-suspected fan theory about The Last Stand: that it branches off from Death Toll in some way, in a non-canon alternative timeline. as well as this, they allegedly confirmed that in this alternative timeline, the Survivors still end up in Newburg for Dead Air. even without the confirmation, this remains a solid fan theory, due to the constant references to Riverside and re-use of many of Death Toll's assets.

who rescues the Survivors in The Last Stand? John Slater. no Amanda - just John. despite her lack of voice actress, if she was still present John would give some indication of this at some point. it can be speculated that whatever happened to her contributed to the lack of rescue at the boathouse that forced the Survivors to take an alternative route. either way, he ends up at the lighthouse when the Survivors call for rescue, alone, and picks them up.

and then later...throws them off the boat. into Newburg.

what reason would John have to do that? without Amanda, surely he wouldn't have that push, as he wanted to rescue the Survivors for multiple reasons in the first place. without his constant arguments with Amanda, Zoey wouldn't be nearly as stressed. and between the three of them I'm sure the other Fairfield Survivors would stop Francis from pissing John off enough to get them thrown off the boat. in short, less Amanda = less tension, and no reason for the Survivors getting chucked off the boat.

...right?

I'd like to remind you that a symptom of the Infection is paranoia.

what if, in both The Last Stand and Death Toll, John and Amanda are infected by the Survivors on the way to the military safe zone? after all, the virus is confirmed to occasionally be airborne, and I doubt two civilians have completely effective, sustained protection against that. likely the only reason they hadn't already been Infected is because they got out on the water early on in the pandemic, and hadn't come into contact with anyone else since. it's unlikely that one of them is immune, and even more unlikely that they're both immune (especially considering those with XX chromosomes may be genetically less likely to be carriers). wouldn't Francis have mentioned it if their rescuers turned or were obviously Infected? yes, but it's possible that the airborne strain works slower as well, meaning that the Survivors are thrown off of the boat after the symptoms kick in but before the Slaters fully turn. even Church Guy had at least an hour from being Infected to turning, and he was bitten. Newburg isn't too far from where the Survivors are rescued in Death Toll anyway (the burning city in the background of the finale is Newburg), so the Survivors clearly didn't last long on the boat anyway. as a result, the Survivors wouldn't realise it was the Infection intensifying the Slaters' paranoia - they'd just think the Slaters were being dicks. Francis also explicitly mentions that they were "left to die", implying negativity or even hostility from the Slaters as the Survivors were being thrown off.

so yeah. that's why I think they got thrown off of the boat in Death Toll - a combination of the intense tension between the two parties, and the Slaters falling victim to Infection-induced paranoia. but an explanation minus the Infection is equally as plausible. it all depends on what you find most interesting, I suppose, and both feel like they fit pretty well into the world.

lord this is a long chunk o text. I know most fandoms prefer art and fanfic over this sorta thing, so please let me know in replies or something if you're interested in more stuff like this. also if any of this makes sense because I like to ramble.

oh and if you'd like to use any of my interpretations in fanworks like art or fic, I'd love to see it :)

#l4d #l4d2 #left 4 dead #left 4 dead 2 #jrrrambles #not gonna tag any characters #because I mention a ton #and I don't think the Slaters have tags #i spent way too much time on this </3

[disenchantedfaerie]

So many things to say and so many things not to say.

Fandom: This fandom is toxic. There is no other way to put it. It’s toxic from top to bottom, left to right, diagonally. My partners and I discussed this today because we were bored. We whole heartedly believe it starts at the top and by top I mean her majesty of the written word. Of course, now that’s she’s dropped the self diagnosis of “somewhat autistic,” you really can’t say anything because then you’re a horrible person. But she uses that as an excuse for her snark and condescending attitude. Hey. Whatever lady. I don’t follow you, I don’t read your books and aside from the few things I see, you’re no better than the leads. The difference is you’ve been milking the fandom for 30 years; people are waiting for you to finish and you can’t even complete the one that was supposed to be done last year. Yet you continue to yak about this side thing or that side thing and really, I don’t need a JF origin story. We’ve gotten that enough in the 9 other flipping books. You see the pattern here tho folks?

The female lead: She has done her share of being flippant and rude to people on her SM. She becomes sweet as pecan pie on Thanksgiving when she wants to want to launch something though. She was the one who wanted to end the shipper rumors and so IFH happened but sadly when you skirt around a subject and don’t say your partner’s name or take photos of them/with them and only take photos with your male lead in what could be construed as compromising positions - yeah. People will continue to buy what you sell to them. I’ve said it time and again, they are the biggest trolls in the fandom and do more to fuel the ship, even now that she is married to another man who is not the male lead, than anyone else. That’s all I have to say about her. She doesn’t owe anyone anything, none of them do actually, but sometimes being kind goes out the window with the lot of them.

His highness: Where to begin? His “fans” come all the way over here to our little corner of tumblr to hide behind Anon Asks to spew their hate and vitriol to those of us who seem to have opinions that differ from theirs. Namely, he is not a god. He is not someone we worship. We simply come together over coffee and tea and trade stories of current events and talk about the what if’s. My opinion of him is based on his own actions. Maybe all these “fans” want to blur the timeline of events and take it as gospel from his highness that he went on his luxury vacation before the travel ban while the rest of us cancelled ours and many lost jobs and incomes. Well that’s simply untrue. When he was called out, knowing he was wrong, instead of being the sweet, humble, normal guy that everyone says he is, he doubled down, became rude, flippant, went on a blocking spree, posting articles about COVID being no worse than the flu. Did his traveling companion get serious threats. I believe so. I believe he has as well from the same kind of people that come here to our little corner of tumblr, keyboard warriors that hide behind their anonymity and spew hate and vitriol. I also believe that people have gone to Glasgow and stalked his flat, which, come on people. That’s wrong on so many levels. I lived in LA for many years. It never occurred to me to drive to Malibu, Hollywood Hills, Laurel Canyon to actually stalk the celebs. Why? What’s the point? So I can see them in their grungy clothes looking like real people? No thanks. I don’t have that kind of time or energy. Thus the 4 page rant. Hey good for you dude. It’s about time you grew a pair actually but what did it accomplish? Nothing really except people stopped talking about his covidiocy. Why? Not because he wasn’t a covidiot and quite frankly still is (remember, he’s the king of “it’s not worse than the flu”) but because he pulled the mental health card. I think he does have mental health issues. I still have high hopes that some day he will realize this himself and seek the help he needs.

Now these Anons come to our little corner of tumblr and drop their comments saying things like “I hope you get COVID and die. It’s because of you he did his 4 page rant. The people you call mommies are his real fans.” Mmmkay. I used to blindly defend him. I used to buy into his shilling and his ever so sweet exterior, I even bought into the “best fans ever” bullshit. You want to blame us who never name him, her or the one who “writes” in any blog, never hashtag him, her, or the other one or the show, never interact with any of them on other platforms of SM for his 4 page rant, his mental illness, all of his flaws and accuse us of not being fans - fine. He who is without sin, cast the first stone. Perhaps you need to sit back and take a long look at yourself in the mirror as well. Wishing a deadly disease on people, making threats, spewing hatred - isn’t this the exact same thing that was done to his highness and you were all up in arms about it, yet you come here and do it to others and think that’s okay. What makes it okay? Because you’re defending your favorite star? If this is what it means to part of this fandom, part of his fandom specifically, no thank you. When y’all can walk on water, then you can judge me. Until then, judge not lest ye be judged.

I walked away long ago but I’m still human and still have an opinion, everyone does. If he’s your favorite celeb then perhaps you should follow his advice the next time you see something you don’t agree with - suggest you ignore. He’s the one that started the entire “be kind” campaign right? Or does that only apply when it’s comvenient? If you think this is the sort of behavior that will get you on his Christmas card list or the top of his potential list of never ending “girlfriends” - well, good luck. At some point this man (again, he’s a man, he’s flawed, he makes mistakes and he’s not perfect) will fall from the pedestal his fandom have put him on and then where will you all be? He has been unapologetic for all the things he’s done. He continues to shill his swill and all his other crap when a lot people can’t make ends meet. He continues to ask for donations to HIS causes instead of asking people to take care of themselves or their own communities. I love Scotland as much as anyone but my money right now is better served in my community. I ignore most of what they all do, following his own suggestion of ignoring, but things cross my dash and I do not condone or appreciate threats. I didn’t condone it when the threats were directed at him, his traveling companion, or anyone else nor have I ever made a threat against anyone.

I wish to be treated the way I treat others and if you can’t do the same, if you can’t engage with me in a calm, adult manner, I don’t have time for you. You can have a differing opinion than me. It’s okay. We don’t have to agree but we can respectfully disagree and discuss, not argue, about who’s right and who’s wrong. It isn’t cut and dry, black and white. We can agree to disagree and still be civil and still be friends.

My Scotsman added this: When will the games end, when will the games stop? I had high hopes for his highness to lead by example and be better but he’s a follower and he followers her majesty’s lead. He follows his business partner’s lead. He sees her milk the fandom, so why can’t he and he does an excellent job of it. His fandom vote for meaningless awards until their fingers bleed, buy all of his merchandise, buy anything he sells up to and including the ship. Is there an ounce of him being a genuine person left? Yes. He gives us a glimpse now and again but make no mistake, he will take you for what you’re worth. Maybe one day he’ll change and we’ll follow him again. Until then, I’ll be watching like my partner. I’ll be around.

I guess at the end of the day my point is this, the fandom made itself toxic and I highly doubt at this point it can or will turn around. Why would it? All we can do is choose to be part of the toxicity and contribute to it and pass it forward like these precious anons have been doing or we can choose to walk away, scroll on by, try to make the world or at least our little corner of it better.

I’m still disenchanted. I hope one day my wings turn white again with the promise of a better time and place. Until then, take care my friends. I’ll be watching and I’ll be blogging.

#my opinion #my rants #my thoughts #if you cant be nice scroll on by #be kind #suggest you ignore #too long dont read

[tigerkirby215]

5e Azir, the Emperor of the Sands build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Bo Lu. Made for Riot Games.)

SHURIMA WILL RISE

BOTTOM TEXT

From the empress to the emperor: king chicken himself, bottom of the top, and lord of nerfs. Truthfully there’s a lot to be said for such a unique champion as Azir but all that’s shadowed by Riot’s insistence on having him be absolute bottom tier forever more. Well at least he’s pretty alright in Legends of Runeterra.

GOALS

My soldiers march on - The most important feature of Azir is of course his Sand Soldiers, allowing you to be everywhere at once as you command a legion of one to fight for you.

You need not follow me, but you cannot stop me - Can’t have the sand chicken be a sitting duck; we need to be able to dash to our soldiers for protection at a moment’s notice.

My city lives on - We need to be able to summon turrets... I guess? Look all Azir really does is summon soldiers so I don’t really have much to work with.

RACE

Azir may look like a bird but he can’t fly, so we’re not going to be taking any of the bird races. What Azir truly is however is a sand zombie reanimated by his distant daughter’s blood. With that being said we’re going to be going for a Reborn; a race lineage currently in UA that shall soon be published in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft.

You can increase one ability score of your choice by 2 and another one by 1: give yourself +2 Intelligence and +1 Dexterity. You also learn a language of your choice: take Celestial to speak like an Ascended! Your Creature Type is both Humanoid and Undead (or Construct, but you were reanimated from the dead so...) and can choose to be either Medium or Small. (You are Medium because you were once human.)

You have Darkvision (which I may as well mention because this lineage doesn’t have much) and your Deathless Nature means that you have a lot of benefits to resist mortal problems like sleep, food, disease, poison, or death saving throws. But your main feature is Knowledge from a Past Life, letting you add a d6 to skill checks you make as you remember something Nasus taught you. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses at the end of a Long Rest.

IF REBORN ISN’T ALLOWED: This build doesn’t really require a particular race / lineage; Reborn just made the most sense. Feel free to play Azir however you want: his build is very generalized and doesn’t require anything specific.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - The main reason we’re opting for DEX over STR is because you need to be able to make ranged attacks when you don’t have Sand Soldiers, but your armor does seem rather light.

14; INTELLIGENCE - Military tactics would be Intelligence, as well as magic which yeah: the guy who summons soldiers made of tiny rocks is in fact a mage.

13; CONSTITUTION - Azir is squishy in-game, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have good health for this build.

12; CHARISMA - You need Charisma to lead a nation.

10; WISDOM - Not saying that Azir is dumb, but you did think that freeing the slaves would be a good birthday gift for your super best friend Xerath.

8; STRENGTH - Sand and dust: they both struggle to pick up big weapons.

BACKGROUND

Shurima may be gone, but it won’t take long for you to be recognized as its Noble Emperor once again. With the Noble background you get proficiency with History and Persuasion as well as a Gaming set of your choice (Dragonchess makes sense for a tactician) and a language of your choice (pick your poison.)

You were born into a Position of Privilege, and even if your legacy was lost to the sand most still know to honor your name. You can even use that honor for some political meetings.

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

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

Making people fight for you is a type of fighting, right? Regardless as a Fighter you get proficiency in two skills from the Fighter list: Acrobatics is good for survival, and Insight is good to know if your slave BFF is starting to harbor resentment for you as the emperor of a nation run by slaves. You also get a Fighting Style at level 1: you need only one hand for your “spear” so Dueling will make that “spear” do more damage.

ABOUT AZIR’S WEAPON (and his Sand Soldiers): Grab a Rapier and a Shield for a DEX-based spear-like weapon... and a shield. This will be your loadout to keep alive as well as the loadout of your Sand Soldiers, which we will get soon.

In addition to survive mid lane you can take the Second Wind rune to heal yourself for a d10 plus your Fighter level as a Bonus Action. Does Azir take Second Wind? Does it look like I know how to play Azir?

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters can grab some attack speed with Action Surge, allowing them to take an extra action on their turn for some pro plays!

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype. Do you wish to harness the echoes of your nation? Then Echo Knight is a very good bet! As an Echo Knight you can Manifest Echo to create a Sand Soldier as a Bonus Action. The Sand Soldier (which is what I’ll be referring to your Echoes as in this build) has the following stats:

AC equal to 14 + your proficiency bonus

1 HP

Immunity to all conditions

The same saving throws as you

The same size as you

The ability to occupy a space

The appearance of a Sand Soldier (so its definitely not human)

You can move your Sand Soldier up to 30 feet without spending an action or bonus action. With your soldier in its location you have the following abilities:

You can “dash” (IE teleport) to your soldier and swap places with it as a bonus action, taking 15 feet of your movement (regardless of how far you “dashed.”)

When you take the attack action it can come from your soldier’s location.

If someone walks past your soldier you can make an attack of opportunity against them as if you were in the soldier’s location!

In a big nutshell the Sand Soldier acts like an extension of you, and can do basically everything you can. And you can take an additional attack from your Soldier’s location after attacking thanks to Unleash Incarnation, which has a limited number of uses equal to your Constitution modifier.

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get the first of many Ability Score Improvements. Dexterity is tied to most of what we do currently so increasing that by 2 would be beneficial.

LEVEL 5 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters can increase their attack speed and make an Extra Attack with their action. This means two attacks in an action, four with Action Surge, and one extra with Unleash Incarnation. All from either your location or the location of your Sand Soldier.

(Artwork by Alex “alexplank” Flores. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - ARTIFICER 1

So I kinda got all I wanted from Fighter? And honestly if you’re playing in a low level campaign investing fully in Echo Knight is a great way to replicate Azir. But I can’t just cop out and say “Echo Knight 20 lol” for a champion like Azir so... Empires are built on invention. As an Artificer you get Magical Tinkering which is like Prestidigitation but bad. You can make an object glow slightly, make sounds, smell nice: all the sort of things that the magic of the Sun Disk provided Shurimans with daily.

But of course what we’re really here for is Spellcasting! You get two cantrips from the Artificer spell list: Prestidigitation proper will let you do better sand magic, and Guidance will help you help yourself to guide your nation.

You can also prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus half your Artificer level, which means you can prepare three for now:

Absorb Elements will let you soak up some damage from the enemy laner before dishing it back out!

Faerie Fire will let you light up a target for your soldiers (IE yourself) to strike.

And Detect Magic will let you... detect magic...

LEVEL 7 - ARTIFICER 2

Second level Artificers get Infusions; ancient Shuriman artifacts that you acquired from the ruins to serve yourself. (Though you do have to apply them to existing items.)

Enhanced Weapon will let you make your Soldiers do magic damage, as well as yourself!

Grabbing a Repeating Shot weapon (probably a Hand Crossbow) will let you attack at range from both your own location and your Echo’s location.

The Mind Sharpener is kinda uhhh... dumb? But why shouldn’t an emperor be entitled to succeed their Concentration checks?

An Alchemy Jug will let you bring the waters back to Shurima... or potentially mayonnaise.

Additionally you can prepare another spell, and use those chicken feathers of yours to Feather Fall.

LEVEL 8 - ARTIFICER 3

Third level Artificers can make The Right Tool for the Job from the sands with an hour of work, allowing you to create a set of Artisan’s tools (or Thieves’ Tools) for whatever purpose you need. "You cannot topple Shurima."

But come on: we both know we’re here for our subclass. Now what Artificer subclass is capable of summoning artillery... Artillerist might work? Along with gaining Wood Carver’s Tools proficiency you can summon an Eldritch Cannon as an action. The cannon is either small or tiny: a small one occupies its space and is summoned within 5 feet of you, and you can hold a tiny cannon in your hand. You can create one cannon for free per Long Rest, but summoning additional cannons requires a spell slot of first level or higher.

The cannon has an AC of 18 and five times your Artificer level in hitpoints. It is immune to poison damage and psychic damage, and has 10 in all stats (for the sake of saving throws.) You can also heal it with Mending... which we don’t have. Oops. It’s almost like Artificers only get 2 cantrips.

Regardless: when you create the cannon you determine its appearance, if it can move, and its type. A Flamethrower turret shoots fire (duh) in a cone, forcing a DEX save to deal fire damage to everyone in the area. A Force Balista turret is like a regular Summoner’s Rift turret, shooting at one target within range to deal a good chunk of damage and push them back slightly. And to shield your army a Protector turret grants temporary hitpoints to everyone in its area of effect. Regardless of what turret you create activating it takes a Bonus Action. You can make the turret move up to 15 feet with that bonus action, and can’t activate the turret if you’re more than 60 feet away.

Additionally you get Shield and Thunderwave as Artillerist Spells, to protect yourself or deal some damage.

LEVEL 9 - ARTIFICER 4

4th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement. Generally speaking packing Flash is a good idea, so we’ll be grabbing the Fey Touched feat to increase our Intelligence by 1 and get the Misty Step spell added to our spell list (even if we don’t have second level spell slots yet.)

You can also add a Divination or Enchantment spell to your list as well and I’m going to recommend Hex to further increase your damage to whatever target you focus with your soldiers. You can cast both Misty Step and Hex once per Long Rest without using a spell slot, and can cast the spell more times by using the respective spell slot. Speaking of spells you would be able to prepare more of them but I’m going to wait for...

LEVEL 10 - ARTIFICER 5

5th level Artificers can turn a staff (or a wand or a rod, but realistically you’d use a staff) into an Arcane Firearm. When casting Artificer spells through the Arcane Firearm you gain a d8 bonus to one damage roll of the spell...

I’m going to be honest: you’re primarily a Fighter, and especially if you walk around with both a Shield and a Rapier Spear you probably won’t have a free hand for the Arcane Firearm anyways. Talk to your DM to see if they’ll let you add a d8 to your spells anyways. And if not? ...Nothing much lost by ignoring it.

But 5th level Artificers also get second level spell slots which means that they can prepare second level spells! You get both Scorching Ray and Shatter as Artillerist Spells, and can prepare Aid to boost your army for battle!

(Artwork by Zuoan Dong and Kudos Productions. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 11 - ARTIFICER 6

6th level Artificers get Tool Expertise, which is exactly what it sounds like: double your proficiency with tool checks. But more importantly you get more infusions such as the Spell-Refueling Ring to actually be a Mage, and a Repulsion Shield to recreate the push from Emperor's Divide and further break your AC.

You can also prepare another spell like Enhance Ability, so your subjects can build up your civilization! ...But not slaves, obviously.

LEVEL 12 - ARTIFICER 7

7th level emperors can direct their soldiers as a reaction with a Flash of Genius, letting you boost one of their Ability Checks or Saving Throws by an amount equal to your Intelligence modifier. The ability has a limited number of uses but both its number of uses and its total strength increases with your Intelligence modifier. Speaking of which...

LEVEL 13 - ARTIFICER 8

An Ability Score Improvement means we can finally round out that uneven Intelligence score, as well as your uneven Constitution. Nice round number will help you rule over yourself, which will make it easier to rule over a nation.

More Intelligence does also mean more prepared spells, but you’ll have to be patient for...

LEVEL 14 - ARTIFICER 9

9th level Artillerists can make their turret Self Destruct, as the Explosive Cannon causes each creature within 20 feet of it to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 force damage as the tower self-destructs, only taking half on a success. In addition your turrets deal an extra d8 of damage, or Temp HP shielding if you swing that way.

But to top it off you learn third level spells now! Wind Wall from the Artillerist Spells list will actually serve as Emperor's Divide, since while it does work like Yasuo’s Wind Wall it also pushes people back and stops them from going through it (to an extent.) As for Fireball well... it’s Fireball! Not everything needs to be justified.

Other than that you can prepare Haste to truly go to war (as long as you’re fine with leaving yourself vulnerable if you lose spell focus), and Create Food and Water to... create food and water. A great emperor must care for his people, especially his best friend.

(Artwork by Pang Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 6

Hey Ability Score Improvements are fun! Dexterity is still kinda our “main” stat, since it’s used both for attacking and AC. So increasing DEX by 2 would be the best plan of action!

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 7

7th level Echo Knights see everything on their sands thanks to Echo Avatar. As an action you can see through your Sand Soldier, to direct them through espionage. You yourself can not see or hear during this time, and you can end this effect at any time as an action.

While spying through your sand soldier, it can be up to 1000 feet away from you without being destroyed. This does mean that you can swap places with it to get somewhere up to 1000 feet away!

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 8

Fighters are fun because while they get they get Ability Score Improvements in some of the places where other classes don’t they still get the standard ASIs at the standard levels. Cap off your Intelligence to have the best of both magic damage and attack speed!

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

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 9

9th level Fighters can survive with Ascended strength, as Indomitable lets them reroll one failed Saving Throw per Long Rest. You can still fail however so I’d perhaps only use this on the skills you have a good chance of succeeding in; even the Ascended have their limits.

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 10

At level 10 your Sand Soldiers will always be there to defend you, as Shadow Martyr allows your soldiers to defend an ally you can see with your reaction. Your soldier moves within 5 feet of the ally, and the attack is directed towards your soldier instead of your ally. "Nothing is beyond my reach."

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 11

Our final level is the 11th level of Fighter for another Extra Attack, resulting in three attacks total or six with Action Surge! Finally six-slotted for max Attack Speed!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Soldiers, onward! - You can deal tons of damage without ever getting close to the danger between your Sand Soldiers and your cannon, both of which can do the fighting for you as you stay back and direct their attacks.

Challenge Shurima; challenge fate - You also have plenty of utility in both your magic and your soldiers, notably an extreme level of mobility to escape if anyone does actually try to kill you. And in a worse case scenario your infusions can provide you with even more tools to rebuild your empire.

Emperors never die - It was not my intention but... Hey turns out that Fighter and Artificer are both very good at keeping themselves alive. Above average HP, strong saving throws (proficiency in the saves for your low stats help a lot!), and notably some damn high AC by walking around with a spear and shield. 19 AC with Studded Leather and a Shield which can be further increased with infusions.

CONS

My empire lives in every grain of sand - It takes quite awhile to prepare everything for combat. An action to summon your cannon, a bonus action to summon your echo, and then a Bonus Action every turn as long as you have your cannon up.

I will shift as the sands - A general you may be but a scholar you are not. With the exception of Acrobatics and History your skill checks are generally poor, and your ability scores overall leave a lot to be desired. Sure +5 to Religion or Arcana is nice but it’s not going to shatter the sun.

The bounty of Shurima still flows - One thing an emperor must manage is the resources of their kingdom, and you have plenty of limited tools that only come back after Long Rests. Some of them (mostly your Fighter stuff) come back on a Short Rest yes but you have limited spell slots, cannons, Flashes of Genius to protect your allies, and only one use of Indominable per Long Rest. Ration yourself wisely.

But an empire is built upon sacrifice. Conqueror with your soldiers before rebuilding. A nation as great as Shurima can not truly remain gone. But perhaps this time you should pay your workers? Especially if your best friend is the head of the union.

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

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Azir #SHURIMA #WILL #RISE #dnd fighter #dnd artificer #egypt #gods of egypt #ancient egypt

[mostlysignssomeportents]

QE, inflation, slave labor and a People's Bailout

The Obama administration inherited a vast economic crisis. They responded with Quantitative Easing, pumping trillions into the finance sector to rescue the banks that had knowingly gambled on bad mortgages, losing so much they were about to go under.

https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/24/the-fed-launched-qe-nine-years-ago--these-four-charts-show-its-impact.html

At the time, deficit hawks predicted inflation, which is a commonsense prediction: inflation is what happens when the amount of money chasing goods and services goes up faster than the supply of those goods and services, creating bidding wars.

They were right...and wrong. What we got was asset bubbles, especially in housing markets, driving up the price of putting a roof over your head rewarding speculators and landlords, especially Wall Street landlords.

And Obama's handling of the financial crisis put a lot of us under the thumbs of landlords! Obama bailed out the banks, but not the mortgage holders, kicking off waves of foreclosures.

Thanks to lax oversight, banks that had cheated to originate or service mortgages were able to cheat on foreclosures, too - stealing houses from borrowers who were up-to-date on payments or who were entitled to forebearance.

https://web.archive.org/web/20101017014628/http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101014/bs_yblog_upshot/is-david-j-stern-the-poster-boy-for-the-foreclosure-mess

I mean, literally stealing houses by the hundreds or even the thousands. The very same people who created the great financial crisis got bailed out, rather than punished, and used their new lease on life to commit even worse crimes with total impunity.

The houses that were foreclosed (and sometimes stolen) were flipped to Wall Street, who LOVE financial products based on peoples' homes. After all, people will move heaven and earth to keep shelter over their kids' heads.

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/02/blackstone-rental-homes-bundled-derivatives/

Corporate landlords built a sturdy, three-legged stool to guarantee the flow of rents to their investors.

I. Jack up rents to consume the majority of tenants' income:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2017/09/wall-street-owns-main-street-literally.html

II. Cease maintenance, knowing that your tenants have no recourse if their homes are crumbling and unsafe:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-housing-invitation/

III. Perfect the eviction, heretofore an American rarity:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-01-03/wall-street-america-s-new-landlord-kicks-tenants-to-the-curb

America's housing crisis - substandard homes rented at unsustainable costs to people who had their own homes stolen from them by the same investors they're currently paying rent to - is a major legacy of QE, and it's definitely inflationary.

But it's a highly selective form of inflation. Many people won't experience it at all: if you owned your house before the crisis and weathered it, the asset bubble has made your home more valuable, while falling interest rates let you refi at rock-bottom rates. You're great.

You're paying less than ever for a home that's worth more than ever, but that's a spillover effect of the main show, which is the process by which millions of Americans were robbed of their homes and then moved into high-priced slums to the benefit of the 1%.

Both Obama and Trump have boasted of the economy's performance since QE, pointing to soaring share prices - share prices that are totally decoupled from company performance. Companies lose money and still gain value.

Indeed, predatory companies (like Grubhub, Postmates, Door Dash and Uber Eats) that destroy profitable companies (restaurants) while still losing money are booming in value.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/18/code-is-speech/#schadenpizza

Investors understand that consumers have no money, due to rising housing costs plus crashing wages, largely thanks to the "gig economy," a polite term for "worker misclassification."

Companies that get bailouts would be stupid to spend the money on jobs or new productive capacity to make stuff no one can afford to buy. Instead, they buy their own shares and declare dividends, driving up share prices.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/20/the-cadillac-of-murdermobiles/#austerity

We have seen an incredible market bull-run since the Great Financial Crisis, a run that has largely continued since the pandemic. It's the other asset bubble: a bubble in investment assets.

Corporate leaders claim responsibility for these rises, but the reality is that it's the predictable result of bailing out banks and companies rather than workers and homeowners.

Société Générale's analysts say that about half of the stock market's gains since 2008 can be attributed to QE.

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/without-qe-the-s-p-500-would-be-trading-closer-to-1-800-than-3-300-says-societe-generale-11604688442

Top-down bailouts have multiplier effects. The banks are made whole, then they get to steal our houses, then they get to steal our rents, then they get to goose their share prices.

This is how the super-rich got even richer, before and after the pandemic. It's also why the tiny minority of Americans with adequate retirement savings saw them swell - it's another spillover effect of the great upward transfer of national wealth.

Why does all of this matter now? Well, between my writing my first paragraph and this one, Biden was declared, giving us what the Biden campaign signalled would be "Obama's third term."

Biden's taking office amidst a financial crisis that's far worse than 2008.

Biden has a long track-record of giving legislative gifts to the finance sector at the expense of the American people. They called him "The Senator from MNBA" for a reason.

https://www.gq.com/story/joe-biden-bankruptcy-bill

If he addresses this crisis the same way that he did in 2008 - the way that Congress and the Senate addressed the crisis in 2020 - by bailing out finance, not the public, we're seriously fucked.

Sure, the stock market will continue to rise and rise, as will house prices.

If you are in the 1%, you will get SO MUCH richer. If you're in the 10%, your retirement savings will swell, your mortgage will get cheaper, and your house's value will go up.

For everyone else: evictions, foreclosures, soaring rents, worse wages.

Last week, California voters passed Prop 22, safeguarding the right of gig economy companies to misclassify their workers as contractors and pay them sub-minimum wages, withhold benefits, evade payroll and unemployment taxes, etc.

Uber/Lyft spent $200m to secure that win.

As Prop22's promoters remind us: Gig work is the new unemployment benefit: it's a private-sector jobs guarantee, work you can get at the tap of your screen. It's a perfect labor market - workers effectively bid to offer the best price to perform servant work for others.

The more workers there are, and the more desperate their situation is, the lower the payments go. A lot of those savings are siphoned off by the (money-losing, stock-soaring) gig companies, but some of it is passed onto customers.

This is by design.

Since the Reagan years, neoliberal regulators and lawmakers have hewed to a radical anti-monopoly theory called "consumer harm." Under "consumer harm," monopolies are only a problem if they drive up prices.

Since gig companies lower prices, they are totally kosher - even if they secure monopolies through predatory pricing.

But there's an even more insidious side to "consumer harm" and the gig economy.

Misclassifying workers as independent contractors converts a brutally exploited workforce into a collection of "small businesses." If they get together and demand higher wages, THEY violate the consumer harm standard. They're a group of companies fixing prices!

We're 12 years into the QE experiment and it has demonstrated the relationship between government money-creation and inflation: inflation isn't the result of government spending, it's the result of government spending that leads to bidding wars.

Giving trillion to the rich created inflation in the things that rich people buy: our houses (out from under us) and stocks.

Now, imagine what a People's Bailout could do.

Imagine replacing the gig economy job guarantee (a workfare program with no workplace protections, job security or minimum wage) with an actual Job Guarantee as described by the economist Pavlina Tcherneva:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/05/the-hard-stuff/#jobs-guarantee

Federally funded, locally administered: good jobs at inclusive wages that served community needs proposed by community groups and approved by local governments.

Would that be inflationary? Recall that inflation is what happens when the number of buyers goes up and the supply of things they're buying doesn't keep up. Inflation is the result of bidding wars.

For a jobs guarantee to be inflationary, there would have to be a bidding war for the US workforce. That is the opposite of what we have now.

https://wolfstreet.com/2020/11/06/picture-emerges-of-a-weird-recovery-to-still-historically-awful-levels/

The reason no one wants to buy Americans' labor is that no one has any money to buy the things Americans make with their labor. The only people with money - the wealthy - primarily buy our homes out from under us, and stocks.

QE for the wealthy has made the economy incredibly perverse. Productive companies are being driven to bankruptcy by gig economy companies that lose money. Millions of workers compete to provide services for the lucky few, for dwindling wages.

Workers can't afford to buy stuff so companies have no reason to make stuff and so they become finance grifts, until they collapse, like Hertz did (after it converted itself from a car-rental company to an accountancy trick company):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/27/literal-gunhumping/#hertz-uranus

The gig economy jobs guarantee can't last. Eventually the number of workers bidding to serve the wealthy will exceed demand by such a wide margin that wages turn negative - the depreciation and payments on your gig economy car will exceed your income.

But a real, public sector, federal Jobs Guarantee? Yes please.

Paying workers good wages to do productive things that their communities need will create demand for the thing companies have decided not to make anymore.

In other words, it will enable companies to make profits again, and it will drive out the companies whose share prices soared on the expectation of losses (accompanied by dividends and buybacks). It will dampen the stock market, but improve the economy.

This will mean the end of those spillover effects - soaring house-valuations and 401ks for the lucky few - but those came at a VERY high price - vast un- and underemployment, the gutting of the productive economy, crushing debt for the majority.

America bought those house price rises and 401k gains at a steep price: it cost the nation its resilience and political stability.

If the goal of QE was to secure middle-class Americans' retirements, it was spectacularly wasteful.

A tiny fraction of QE's trillions went to middle-class retirements, while the vast majority went to making the 1% far, far richer. Most middle class Americans still don't have secure retirements - their dotage will be spent competing for gig economy jobs.

For the price of QE, the US government could simply have guaranteed the necessities of retirees: shelter, food, care. This spending would crowd out jobs, sure - the worst-paid, most precarious jobs, from fast food to gig economy "jobs."

It would make America into a country of secure and prosperous people, instead of food-delivery drivers and dog-walkers.

12 years of finance bailouts and 0 years of People's Bailouts have only exacerbated this, and the pandemic metastasised it.

When it comes to stimulus, America can't afford a third Obama term. We need to demand better of Biden - we need to demand a People's Bailout.

For almost* all our sakes.

*Offer not valid in America's richest ZIP codes.

#pluralistic

[crisisdparity]

Game Master Akuma AU

(Note: Originally submitted to @justanotherpersonsuniverse, on their advice I will be using my own tumblr for anything in the future related to this AU.)

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players.

Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he'd greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively.

Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item's stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia.

Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug.

Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt's history with characters dying) and he'd even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt's usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with.

Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history.

He'd put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He'd carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign.

In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he'd made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one.

Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn't need it anymore.

-----

It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app.

Matt/Chat - Chat's going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily.

Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I'd advise, but it's your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now.

Matt/Chat - <photo> 17

Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone's passive Perception easily. You'll sneak off handily without anyone noticing.

-----

"Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple."

"Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?"

Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt.

"19."

"Okay, difficult, but not undoable... Crap."

"What'd you get?"

"Nat 1..."

"Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!"

"Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!"

"Because it's payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish campaigns!"

"Oh, come on! You're not the only person whose had a character die at this table! Xavier runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they're always fair!"

"What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?"

"Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp."

"14!"

"Not much better, dude."

"Guys, it's fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-"

"Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece."

"The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound."

"So does Carapace."

"Vesperia too."

"-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you're all using the Dash action?, you've got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they're all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this."

"Rena screams 'What the HELL, Chat?! We're supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn't you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!'"

"Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!"

There was dead silence at the table.

"Matt... What... just... WHAT?!"

"Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe's on the other foot, huh?!"

"What the hell is your problem, Matt?!"

"My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I've spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!"

"Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!"

"I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY'RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!"

"THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!"

"NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN'T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I'M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!"

"MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!"

"Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time..."

"It's going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least."

Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour.

He'd given so much to making sure this would work. He'd apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He'd agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he'd pull something like this.

He'd nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else's. They'd somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They'd meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening.

It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he'd slaved over for months was kaput.

He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it.

"Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things."

This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he'd ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel.

"Not enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts."

He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he'd spent so much time on to life... What creator could ever turn down an offer like that?

"I, the Game Master, accept... Hawkmoth."

"Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders."

"No."

Hawkmoth was silent for a moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself."

"If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you."

"No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me."

And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence.

-----

Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn't remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn't usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo.

Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her.

She looked up.

And up.

To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her.

"How's the weather down there?" Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique.

"I WILL END YOU!" the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up.

Characters:

Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew)

Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast)

-----

Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope.

She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn't for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she'd have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings.

Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she'd have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her.

"You know, people are staring..." she said as she craned her head to look at her companions.

"Let them," the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. "They're just jealous because their boyfriends can't carry them everywhere."

Characters:

Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout)

Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour)

Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight)

-----

Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin.

She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she?

And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor?

Characters:

Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party)

Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew)

-----

Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she'd freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she'd come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she'd gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable.

It might help more if she could figure out where she was.

Or find another person.

Characters:

Polymouse - Kobold (rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned)

-----

Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance.

"Are you quite done?"

"Almost!" Pigella's cheerful voice answered. "Your fur is so comfy!"

Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels.

"I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen' I will stick you in a bottle."

"Aw, I love you too! Hey, what's that?"

"I think it's my character sheet?"

Characters:

Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory)

Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned)

-----

"According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules," Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. "I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master."

"Aweshum," King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk's robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him.

"Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water."

"Gotta keep up appearanshes!" King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness.

Characters:

Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned)

King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master)

-----

Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he'd never felt before.

"Hmm... perhaps I can work with this..."

"Speak for yourself..." Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face.

Characters:

Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others.

Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters

-----

"Oh, come on!" A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. "Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can't I join them?"

"Because you're too OP. You'd completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure."

"But sitting around is no fun at all!"

"If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger."

"That's it?! I'm on 'mysterious hooded figure' duty? Boo! Why can't I fight with them?!"

"Because you're too OP. But if you insist, I'll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions."

"YES!"

"Five."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Choose your interventions wisely."

"So... if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle...?"

"Then I would allow you to join them of course."

"Score!"

Characters:

Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5)

Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign

-----

Addendum

When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it's basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back.

All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt's place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he has a similar playstyle to Matt, he's savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians.

They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

#game master akuma au #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #writings

[sanababes]

It All Ends Here

Pairings: female kpop idols x fem!reader

Warnings: NEUTRAL (detective au)

-----------

PROFILE

• Name: Park Y/n (female)

• Age: 18

• Height: 5'8

• Bloodtype: A-

===

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

The sound of the clock almost lulled you to sleep. Exhaustion was finally taking a toll on your whole body due to the continuous murder cases for the past weeks. You and your teammates were sent to different crime scenes to assist the bureau, and especially to ensure the safety of the city of Seoul.

A sound of glass being placed on the table interrupted your eyelids from fully closing. You looked up to see your trusted partner, Major Song Yuqi. She chuckled at your vulnerable state then took a sit across you.

"It's pretty rare to see you that tired, Y/n." She mocked playfully.

You rolled your eyes out of annoyance and clearly, your day won't get any better.

"Yeah right,"

She gestured you to drink the liquid that she mainly prepared to ease your troubled mind. You casted a look of doubt to your mischievous friend before shrugging your shoulders and sipped on the hot tea. A delightful sigh came out from your mouth as the warm liquid rushed down on your throat.

"Damn, that's much better... Thanks, Yuqi." You smiled gently which made the latter feel contented.

"It's nothing, Lead Inspector."

"Oh! Today's finally the day we elect a new mayor! Who are you going to vote for?" She added while pacing around your room excitingly.

"Huh? I don't know yet..." You replied nonchalantly.

"Well I'm going for Kwon Boa, but don't tell chief though or he'd go spare!" You chuckled at your partner's antics.

Seoul is currently celebrating the election between the mayoral candidates – Choi Siwon (red party) and Kwon Boa (blue party). Both are socialites within the government, with Siwon being the current elected mayor and Boa's aspiring will to lead the city better.

Just then, the door of your office burst open. The two of you immediately rise up and greeted the Police Chief of Seoul, Kim Namjoon.

"There you are, Lead Inspector. I've been searching for you, "

"Speaking of the devil..." You heard Yuqi grumbling under her breath.

You stifled a laugh before welcoming the man inside.

"Well know that you found me, what is it that you want to say, Chief?" Your eyes glanced down to the i voted badge on his chest.

"I'm sure that you guys know that today is an important day! Keeping things secure is our top priority for now, that's why I came here. I want you to go check out the red party's offices because Mayor Siwon has expressed strong fears about the safety of his staffs and I don't want to leave anything to chance." He stated, but you're a little unsure with his sudden firm attitude.

"But chief I've been hoping that we'd be having a day off—"

Yuqi's whine was cut off when the chief yelled out.

"You can't seriously have hoped to be off duty on such a day, Major Song?! Now go and report to me as soon as your team is done patrolling!"

Eventually, you went to the lounge area of the officers with Yuqi tailing behind you and saw your other five teammates chilling without any worries.

"Guys! We'll be heading to the headquarters of the red party, please ready yourselves and we'll leave in a bit."

Sua, Jennie, Joy, Sana, and Miyeon groaned in unison as they struggled to follow your orders.

"Oh stop with the fuss, we are all tired here... Don't worry I'll try to book a week vacation for us." You offered.

Their faces instantly lit up at what you said, causing them to gear up hastily which made you snort.

《at Red party's Headquarters》

You and the girls stepped out from the van then walked up to the entrance of the building.

"Hey Y/n, have you noticed... how tense Chief is acting lately?" Jennie said as she clings to your right arm.

The others immediately agreed to what the older girl uttered.

"I know right, maybe the mayor is putting some kind of pressure on him. I hope it stops after the elections." Sana continued while swiftly wrapping her arm around you.

"We don't know anything about that yet, let's just wait and see."

You finally composed yourself, and as if it was planned, Mayor Siwon appeared with his bodyguards behind him.

"Inspector Y/n, I'm so glad that you girls are here!"

He shook hands with you and the girls looked at him with hidden disgust, unknown to your own oblivious demeanor.

"That goes the same for us, Mr. Choi." You smiled politely.

"Uhm since my headquarters are about to open in an hour or two, I want to make sure everything is safe for my staff's last day of work."

He motioned to come closer to the sealed doors before unlocking them one by one.

"Here, I've opened the doors for you. Please if you can just have a quick look inside, I'll feel safer." You and the girls reluctantly stepped inside the offices.

Your team began to part ways and started to look around the vast hall.

Not even a few seconds had passed, a loud shriek coming from Joy made you dash to her side.

"What's wro– oh shit!" Yuqi cursed as she saw what the latter was screaming about.

There in front of you and the other officers was a man sitting in one of the office chairs, unfortunately, he was shot to death.

"Oh my god! B-but how could this happen, and is that the rookie model, Kwon Jiyoung? What is h-he even doing here?" Joy stuttered due to the terrifying scene.

"I've never liked him at all since he's been involved with some drug scandal, but to die like that and be shot right between the eyes? Damn..." Sua sighed.

Just then, the mayor called out.

"Inspector, is everything alright?" His eyes went wide when he saw Jiyoung's dead body.

"Oh god, I-I swear I had nothing to do with this! I'm innocent and history will prove it!" He exclaimed while starting to walk backwards.

"Calm down, Mr. Choi. We're just going to need to talk to you since Jiyoung was shot in your headquarters, after all." You warned him with your raspy voice.

'Ughh, daddy~' The girls thought except for Yuqi.

( a/n: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

The mayor agreed and ushered you and your team to make it quick.

"Oh God, the press will surely crucify me once they knew about this. We need to do some damage control!"

After calming the man down, you added him to the profile list for being a possible suspect.

You told Jennie, Sana, and Joy to bring the victim's body to the morgue for an autopsy report. The rest are tasked to investigate the crime scene.

"Y/n! I found a receipt, this might be a clue." Miyeon said as you take a look on the faded paper.

It belonged to Jiyoung and it seems like he bought a drink at Lotte Hotel shortly before his death.

"Good job, maybe try checking the hotel after this search? You can bring Detective Jieun with you."

"Yes, Inspector!" She kissed your cheek before going back on finding clues or some fingerprints.

'Why are they so whipped for me...'

===

You and Yuqi are currently talking with the mayor in some private room within the Red party's offices. They are still some questions that Siwon needs to answer to give your team some information.

"Inspector, this cannot be happening! The journalists will have a field day with this if it goes out to the public!" He said and distress was evident on his face.

"I'm afraid that we cannot make this go all away, but I have already informed the Chief. I'm sure he'll keep this case confidential for a lotted time." Your partner reassured the man.

"I can't believe people would do this... Killing a man just to ruin my chances of being re-elected!"

Your brows furrowed at his statement.

"So you are claiming that you were framed?"

He reasoned that Kwon Jiyoung was an avid supporter of his campaign.

"I see, thank you for having time for us Mr. Mayor." You and Yuqi soon left the offices.

《back to Seoul Police Department》

The good news instantly came as the two of you arrived at the station. Coroner Kim Taeyeon reported that the victim was executed cleanly with an extremely precise shot. The killer seems to be right-handed due to the bullet trajectory and definitely knows how to handle a gun.

—————————————————

KILLER'S PROFILE

• handles guns

• right-handed

—————————————————

Meanwhile, Miyeon and Jieun just came back from investigating the lobby and bar of Lotte Hotel.

"Y/n, it's confirmed that Kwon Jiyoung came to the hotel shortly before his death. We also picked up a torn ticket, I'm sure it looks promising!" The detective said while handing you a clear zip bag which contains the clue.

"I see, let me try restore it in my office. I'll see you guys in a bit."

You sauntered towards your office and placed the torn pieces of the ticket on your table. You leaned one of your hands on the hard surface before starting to place the pieces together.

You're now down to the last part when someone back hugged you and nuzzled its face into the crook of your neck.

"Y/n~ let's cuddle~" Sana whined which made you chuckle.

"Now is not the time for that Sana-ssi, besides I just finished restoring the second clue." You showed her the finished product.

The girl snatched it from your hold before skimming through the details of the plane ticket. She also pushed you gently towards the table which made you sit on it, the latter smiled then placed herself on your lap.

"It says that this ticket was brought under Kwon Jiyoung's name. And this is a one-way ticket to Hawaii! Why he would even purchase such kind of trip?" Sana pouted as she turned her face towards you.

"You're right. As far as I know, Jiyoung's sole goal in life is to be a bona fide member of Seoul's exclusive luxury community. He'll never have left for some tropical islands..."

"The credit card number used to buy this ticket will help us understand everything! ...Oh no, it's badly printed... can you help decipher this for me Sana unnie?" You asked cutely.

"O-of course, I'll be done in no time!" You saw her blushing which made you smirk internally.

"Thanks, I really appreciate the help." You pressed a kiss on her forehead before leaving the latter flustered.

Your phone suddenly rang as you pressed answer, not even bothering to look at the name of the caller.

"Yah Park Y/n! We still need to have a chat with Kwon Boa, I'm barging in any second!" Yuqi exclaimed.

You groaned at her childish demeanor.

"I'll be back in an hour, please do your task okay?" You reminded Sana before finally meeting up with Yuqi.

===

《Seoul City Hall》

The press conference of the candidates just ended a few minutes ago, so you took it as an advantage and greeted the head of the blue party.

"Ah, Inspector Park! It's nice to see you, have you voted yet? After what happened today it seems like my victory tonight is almost ensured!" Boa expressed herself happily.

"Are you referring to Kwon Jiyoung's murder?" Yuqi asked as you watched the older woman in front.

"Hmm, I always had a hunch that the red party is populated with bloodthirsty maniacs. I mean making dreadful deeds just to advance their political agenda... Poor Mr. Kwon being shot at their own headquarters, now I'm sure that the citizens of Seoul will vote for me!"

"Anyways, my campaign has always been based on honesty and morals." The mayoral candidate stated.

You just sighed at her egocentric reply.

"I think that's all that we need to know for now, Mrs. Kwon. We'll keep in contact with you, just in case." You sent her a cold gaze before walking away with your partner.

Yuqi grumbled under her breath before draping her arms around your tall frame.

"These goddamn politicians are going to be the death of me..."

You chuckled on what she said.

"Same... Right now we only have two suspects."

"Yeah, we should close this case as soon as we can. By the way, Officer Chan told me that you should check your email soon. He said the mayor's staff sent you a video recording." Your partner explained.

You immediately grabbed your phone then opened your email.

1 unread inbox

You shared a meaningful glance with Yuqi before opening the said message.

A videotape is played which showed Kwon Boa sneaking into the Mayor's office, presumably right before Jiyoung was killed.

"I can't believe this! It's Mrs. Kwon! We should speak to her again right now–"

"Not so fast, Major Song." Chief Kim appeared with some of the SWAT officers behind him.

"Mrs. Kwon can wait, I want you two to go secure the stand where the election's winner will be announced."

"Huh? But Chief we can't lose time on finding–" you tried to argue, but as usual, you were cut off again.

"Finding Mr. Kwon's murderer is top-priority, but so is the election winner's safety! I'm counting on you Inspector Park, go talk to Boa and don't forget to check out the election stand on the way!"

You and your partner had no choice but to follow his orders instantly.

"Every goddamn time, he always cuts us off!" You whined childishly which is pretty rare.

After a few minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the wide podium. It has two large posters of each party which is hanged opposite to one another. The guest tables were pretty scattered in front of it due to the neglecting visitors who came to watch the awaited conference a while ago.

"Let's split up, you're with the tables then the podium is mine." You instructed Yuqi.

"Yes ma'am!"

The two of you then started to inspect the area thoroughly without missing a single spot. There were a few plant vases on the stage which didn't look suspicious until you saw one that looked a bit unkempt and the soil was disheveled too.

'Oh! Looks like our killer messed up a little, too bad for him...'

You wore your leather gloves before analyzing the vase carefully. It seems like someone previously dug up a hole and covered it carelessly. A smirk crept into your lips as you shoved your hand in the soil and began to try feel any possible foreign object.

"What are you doing?" You looked down to see your partner doubting your current efforts to find a lead.

"I'm searching for any clues? Duh..."

You suddenly felt a hard item and struggled to have a grip on it. After a few seconds of harsh pulling, you finally hauled a small garbage bag with something wrapped completely inside it.

"Look what I got~" you grinned playfully.

"How the fuck did you–"

"I'm going to bring this to the forensic team, have anything useful too?" You asked while stepping down the podium.

"Uh I got this hidden camera on one of the tissue holders, and then I saw this notebook on the floor. The page is torn so I think It looks suspicious so yeah,"

Yuqi handed the portable camera and ripped notebook to you. She also helped on putting all the clues inside your forensic kit whilst you called for Officer Wooseok to pick you up from the city hall.

"I called for Jennie and Joy to help you talk with Mrs. Kwon again, I'm sure you can handle it without me right? I'll go ahead to the station to get this stuff examined." You bid a goodbye to your partner and told her to wait for the other girls.

'Let's see if the fun starts from now on.'

Part 2 coming soon...

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

How was ittt? Its my first time writing with these kind of theme sooo yeah hihi 🐶

#kpop imagines #kpop au #twice #blackpink #red velvet #dream catcher #gidle #bts #snsd #sana #jennie #namjoon #miyeon #sua #joy #yuqi #detective au #ihih

[geeky-politics-46]

The Asgardian Candidate

Loki/The West Wing FanFiction Crossover

Chapter 1 - “Off To The Races”

“Where did this guy even come from?! How was he not even on our radar?! It's like he appeared out of thin air. I don't even have his last name yet, & what is the deal with those stupid horns?"

Josh Lyman, the deputy chief of staff, questoned as he paced back & forth in the strategy meeting for the president's re-election campaign.

He was just as frustrated as the rest of the west wing senior staff. How could they suddenly be behind in the polls? How had this snuck up on them?

An incumbent president whose popularity was the highest of his term, was now trailing to the mysterious candidate Loki. Sure he was tall, charming, & handsome; but he was a complete newcomer to the world of politics.        

“I have no idea, but I need to know what to tell the press about our numbers. We dropped 10 points to him since he entered the race 3 days ago. They'll also be expecting confirmation on the debate schedule too." C.J. responded, nervously tapping her pen against her briefing book.

She turned to Toby & Sam hoping for any hint of an answer. Toby was slumped in his chair staring into space, seemingly in disbelief of their current standing. Sam leaned forward holding his hands to his face wheels visibly turning in his head.

"Maybe it was a bad poll? Maybe we are at least still within the margin of error?" Sam offered, grasping at any straw he could find.

"Oh well that makes me feel better, maybe we are only losing by 3-5 points overnight. It’s The Washington Post Sam, not Cosmo. Even when they’re wrong they’re not that wrong." Josh snarked back, his fists clenching in his hair.

“Donna!!!" He bellowed without even turning to the open office door "did you find anything yet? Please tell me you found something on this guy".

Donna, his assistant, quickly scurried into the room carrying a manila file folder with papers sticking out from every angle. "As a matter of fact Josh I did." Before she could even extend her arm to hand him the file Josh snatched it away & began rifling through the papers. "Your welcome" she said sarcastically before excusing herself from the office.

“Alright, let's see... Full name is Loki Laufeyson. Family includes mother & father, mother is deceased, as well as an older brother named Thor. Not seeing anything about the horns. Originally from... Asgard. That can't be right can it? Is there an Asgard, Oregon or Kentucky or something I don’t know about?”

One by one they looked at each other in confusion. "Wait, does that mean he's not a natural born citizen? Doesn't that automatically disqualify him?" Toby asked with a sudden interest in the conversation.

“Don't get your hopes up to high on that." A voice interjected from the office doorway. Leo McGarry, the president’s chief of staff, had finally arrived at the meeting. Despite having called it himself a last minute call had kept him late. He already looked exhausted leaning against the doorway of Josh’s office.

“We are now in uncharted waters people. The Supreme Court just issued a statement confirming he is qualified to run for president. Because Asgard isn't technically another country they are allowing it. The chief justice wrote the majority opinion himself. Unless or until Congress can pass an amendment declaring Asgard & the rest of these new places or planets I guess as sovereign states & they are not subject to our national laws. He can run."

The momentary hopes of the staff now dashed, they shifted in their seats & settled in for a long night of oppo research. They still had the rest of the papers from Donna’s folder to go through. They wanted to learn everything the could about this Loki Laufeyson, & the sooner the better.

As he crossed his arms against his chest & dropped his head back, Toby pondered allowed "There has to be something we can use against this guy. We just have to find it. He may be new to politics, but everyone has a past. Everyone's got a weakness."

——————————

Reclined behind his desk in his campaign office, feet up & hands clasped behind his head. Loki closed his eyes & listened to the staffers in the other room busy scuttling about. 

If he had known it would be this easy he would have run for president years ago. He smiled at the thought of the chaos he had already caused. Just a few days into joining the race for president of the United States & the polls were already turned on their head. He hardly even had to use his magic. Many people had supported or joined his campaign willingly, even excitedly. It seemed the idea of burning the current system to the ground appealled to a surprisingly large sect of voters.

If it weren't for all the menial tasks of campaigning he probably could have done it single handedly, but the God of mischief had no patience or interest in making signs or phone banking. So he would tolerate the Midgardians doing that work for him. He liked to think of them as his own little army.

Really they were more like rats, or some other form of small bothersome creature, but for the time being they were what he had to work with.

They would help him finally ascend to his throne.

A sudden knock on the door snapped him from his thoughts.

"Sir, the White House press briefing s on." a small timid girl said through the barely cracked door before quickly closing it again.

The staff had already learned not to bother Loki in his office unless it was absolutely necessary, & for the most part to only speak when spoken to. Only a select few staffers were exempt from this rule. One staffer who managed everyone else. Relaying orders & crafting policy, something Loki had very little real interest in. Also two others who handled his press requests.

Loki sat upright in his chair careful to not disturb his golden horned crown, & straightened his emerald green waistcoat & well fitted black suit jacket. His clothing immediately made him stand out from the current president, & he was meticulous about his appearance. Call it vanity if you must, but Loki knew that he was his own best advertising.

He reached for the remote & turned on the TV in the corner of the room. His smile widened as he heard the topic of discussion was already about his own candidacy.

His competitor’s press secretary was breaking the news to the press that the Supreme Court had ruled in Loki's favor. That move had required a little magical coercion, but it was a pittance to pay to eliminate his only real potential legal challenge.

He listened more intently as the woman behind the podium, C.J. (at least he thought that was her name), began to wrap up.

"President Bartlet respects the court’s decision, & maintains that he welcomes the competition. He firmly believes the American people deserve to make their own decision about our countrie’s path forward. With that I can also now confirm that the president has officially agreed to the 3 pre-scheduled debates with Mr. Laufeyson. As you know the 1st debate is set for just over 3 weeks. That's it for today guys, thanks."  With that she closed her notebook & briskly exited, leaving the press shouting questions behind her.

Loki could tell he had Bartlet's staff on pins & needles already. He could practically feel their nervousness through the screen. They were right where he wanted them.

Even the press seemed to be ever aware of Loki's larger than life presence, even when he was no where near. 

“Glorious" he whispered under his breath as his lips curled into a chesire cat grin & his green eyes flashed with a bright gold shimmer. He was going to enjoy every second of this.

#marvel president loki #president loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel loki #marvel fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki disney+ #the west wing #west wing fanfic #west wing #talk politics to me #political fanfic #west wing fanfiction #josh lyman #cj cregg #leo mcgarry #president bartlet #bartlet white house #toby ziegler #sam seaborn #donna moss #president loki fanfic #president loki fanfiction

[aquadrazi]

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 31

Wangji,

I hope this letter finds you well.  I’d like to start off by saying that, everyone is FINE.  There was a little, incident, during the most recent night hunt with the Juniors.  They returned to Cloud Recesses without Sect Leader Jiang.  Apparently Young Master Mo needed to use his, special abilities, to help them defeat a soul sucking statue, and Sect Leader Jiang took offense.

Like I said, no one is hurt.  The Juniors brought Young Master Mo back to Cloud Recesses for cleansing and fortification, and no one was hurt in the scuffle with Sect Leader Jiang.  However, they are a little shaken up from the incident, especially Sizhui.

I should be clear, ALL the Juniors returned, including Jin Ling and the other Jiang disciples.  They won’t repeat what was said, but I have a feeling that tempers were flying as to the legitimacy of Young Master Mo’s, special abilities, and others who have used the same abilities in the past.

I will personally be supervising any future night hunts until your return, to prevent any other, misunderstandings.

Your brother,

Xichen

………Qinghe………

Lan Zhan folded up the letter and glanced over at Wei Ying, who was currently sprawled out across the bed, blanket askew, drooling onto the mattress, and fast asleep.  Soon they would have to deal with how they were going to move forward.  He could not leave Wei Ying again, he refused.  So that meant that he would have to take Wei Ying with him.

The trouble was that no one could know that Wei Ying was alive, and he was fairly recognizable.  Perhaps Nie Huaisang would be willing to share his disguise talismans with them, to hide Wei Ying’s identity.  They wouldn’t need to use it all the time, the Juniors surely wouldn’t recognize him.  It was just when they were in towns, to avoid any surprises.

Wei Ying moaned and began squirming in the bed.  Lan Zhan got out his guqin to soothe him from whatever nightmare was currently plaguing him when he saw that Wei Ying’s movements looked an awful lot like he was rutting into the bed.

Oh

Not a nightmare

Lan Zhan felt the tips of his ears burn as he shamelessly watched his husband obscenely writhe in the bed, unable to look away.  He was hypnotized by the vision of Wei Ying’s hands gripping the mattress as he rolled his hips down into it.  The little satisfied gasps and grunts escaping his lips sent shivers down Lan Zhan’s spine.  Lan Zhan felt blood rushing to his own cock as he wondered what it was Wei Ying was dreaming about…specifically…  He palmed his own growing arousal through his robes as he watched Wei Ying bring himself to climax, calling out his name.

Wei Ying is going to require a bath.

Lan Zhan sent a note to the servants to draw a bath when they brought in breakfast.  When he turned his attention back to the bed, he saw that Wei Ying was awake, and looking confused.

“Wei Ying was having a good dream.”  Lan Zhan tried to help.

It took a few seconds for Wei Ying to process this, but when he did he went from realization, to embarrassment, to shock.  “Lan Zhan!  Were you WATCHING me?!”

“Mn”  Lan Zhan went to go pour them some tea.

“Shameless!”  Wei Ying accused.

“I cannot help but stare when my husband wiggles his attractive bottom in such and enticing motion.”

Wei Ying made an embarrassed noise and hid himself under the covers.  “Lan Zhaaaan” he whined out, muffled by the blanket.

Lan Zhan might have actually chuckled, but at that exact moment the servants came in to draw the bath and deliver breakfast.

………Gusu………

The goodbyes had been hard.  Lan Zhan didn’t want to take Wei Ying away from his sister, but he also knew that Wei Ying was bound to get restless within the confines of the secret pavilion inside the Nie Sect Compound.  Luckily, Nie Huaisang was willing to let Wei Ying take a look at his “special” talismans, and his husband’s excitement could NOT be contained when he returned from THAT little field trip.

Wei Ying came back babbling non-stop about the craziest things, but Lan Zhan did managed to get the information that Wei Ying knew how to recreate the body double talisman, so Lan Zhan felt like he could let the rest of the babble wash over him like a comforting wave.  This was nice.  He wished it could be like this forever.

Unfortunately, they had a mystery to solve, and people to track down and bring to justice.  So they had decided that Wei Ying would become Fu Ying, of the Hedong Fu Sect.  During the Sunshot Campaign, Sect Leader Fu brought 200 cultivators to join in the war when Lan Zhan had requested help from the minor sects.  They could easily pass off Wei Ying as one of those cultivators, and that would explain any of his knowledge of the events during the campaign, should it come up.

“How do I look?” Wei Ying asked, after casting the body double talisman on himself.

“Like someone who might resemble Wei Ying.”  Lan Zhan replied.  The talisman could only change slight details, so it was best to find a body that already closely resembled the one you wanted it to look like.

“Good enough for me to walk straight into Cloud Recesses and slap your brother on the back and say ‘Hi, how’s it been going these past 13 years’?”  Wei Ying grinned.

“I would advise against doing THAT.  However it is good enough to fool anyone not specifically looking for you.”  Lan Zhan replied, ignoring the joke.  “We shall just do our best to keep you away from anyone who might have known you while we are there.”

Wei Ying nodded and squared his shoulders.  “You’ll just have to defend your weak husband, if it comes down to it.”

“Wei Ying is growing stronger every day.” Lan Zhan stated.  “We just need to cultivate more.”

Wei Ying shot him a knowing grin.  “Of course.  Whatever the Honorable Hanguang-Jun prescribes.”

Lan Zhan felt the tips of his ears warm as they started up the long winding stairs leading to Cloud Recesses.

………Cloud Recesses………

Luckily, Sizhui was waiting for them at the gate, with a token for Wei Ying, to help diffuse the awkward conversation they were sure to have about who Wei Ying was and why he was travelling with the Second Jade of Lan.

“Senior Fu!” Sizhui greeted warmly as they approached.  He had been sent a message as to the disguise and the new name, to help sell the act and not cause confusion.

“Lan Sizhui, a pleasure to see you again!”  Wei Ying responded smiling broadly at his now grown son.

Sizhui bowed respectfully to Lan Zhan, then to Wei Ying.  “I am honored to welcome you to Cloud Recesses Senior Fu.  Please accept this token.  It allows access through the gate so you may pass freely.”

Wei Ying took the jade token, rubbing his fingers over it a few times before tucking it into his sleeve.  He thought he felt tears welling up in his eyes and he quickly blinked to clear them.

Why am I getting so emotional?

Of course it is an incredibly kind but unnecessary gesture.

I’ll only be here for a few days.

He noticed Lan Zhan eyeing him cautiously, so he gave him a reassuring smile before following Sizhui into Cloud Recesses, pretending that he hadn’t been there before.  Sizhui made a show of pretending to point out buildings and areas of interest along the way to the Jingshi.  Luckily, even though they drew the attention of everyone who happened to be out and about, no one dared come up to them to speak to them.

Wei Ying wondered why.  Lan Zhan was the one of the famous Twin Jades, and he had been gone for a considerable amount of time.  And yet, the looks they were getting were apprehensive and almost fearful, by Lan standards.  He knew that Lan Zhan was the one to enforce the rules back in the day, but was he REALLY so scary that people were afraid to approach him?  Unless they recognized Wei Ying.

That must be it.

They can see through the disguise.

I’ve been busted.

As if Lan Zhan knew what he was thinking, he grabbed Wei Ying’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.  Wei Ying looked over at him and Lan Zhan shook his head slightly, telling him that it wasn’t whatever he was thinking.

Sizhui noticed the tension and dropped back to speak more privately.  “They are afraid of Baba because of the rumors.”

“We shall speak of this more in the Jingshi.” Lan Zhan replied quietly.

All hope that they would be able to have a private conversation was dashed when they neared the Jingshi, however.  Lan Xichen was standing on the steps, awaiting their arrival.  Wei Ying tripped on a rock and stuttered, and would have fallen if Lan Zhan hadn’t grabbed onto his arm to steady him.  Wei Ying answered his concerned look with a weak smile.

We’re SO busted.

He’s going to see right through this.

Oh no

He’s going to tell Jin Guangyao

They’re really close, right?

I messed up

I always mess up

I’m going to ruin all A-Sang’s plans

This is a disaster

***********************Panic Attack*********************

Wei Ying could feel his chest tighten and it became harder to breathe.

“Are you okay?”  Sizhui asked, concerned.

Wei Ying shook his head and waived him off.  He was NOT okay.  This was REALLY bad.  Lan Xichen was smiling directly at him, like he KNEW.

He knows

I can’t do this

I can’t go back there

He wouldn’t make me, would he?

Isn’t there a rule about not selling people away into slavery?

Even if it’s for punishment?

Wei Ying allowed himself to weakly be led along towards the Jingshi, and towards what felt like his executioner.  His head was foggy and everything was spinning by the time he reached the stairs.

“Wangji, it’s good to see you arrived safely.”  He heard Sect Leader Lan say through the fog of his mind.  “And this must be, Senior Fu.”  He felt a gentle pressure on his arm, urging him to return the Sect Leader’s bow.

He used my fake name.

But he said it rather sharply.

He doesn’t believe it.

He knows.

Of course he knows.

He’s just pretending

To keep things calm

Until we get inside, where I won’t cause a scene.

“Are you alright Senior Fu?  You’re looking rather pale.”  The Lan Sect Leader asked, now looking genuinely concerned.

Wei Ying felt himself being led inside, he can’t remember if he answered the Sect Leader’s question.  Once inside the door he collapsed on the floor, in an attempt at a kowtow, at Sect Leader Lan’s feet.

He couldn’t speak, he didn’t have the air in his lungs to push out words.  He just hoped that the Lan Sect Leader would understand is intention not to fight.  He hoped that if he gave himself up willingly that Lan Zhan and Sizhui would be spared.  Maybe he could convince him that he was the only one.  Yes, that would be alright.  If he could convince Lan Xichen that he was the only person that A-Sang had saved, then his Shijie, her husband, and Wen Qing would all be safe.  It didn’t matter what happened to him, as long as everyone else was safe.

His vision was blackening around the edges from lack of oxygen, and the tightening in his chest was quickly approaching too painful to bear.  He felt hands trying to lift him up, and muffled voices all around him, but he could not focus on anything specific.

*******************End of Panic Attack*******************

He was about to pass out when he felt a cool, calming wave pass over him.  Then suddenly, he could breathe again.  He gasped and coughed and sobbed now that he could get air back into his lungs.  He curled onto his side on the floor and let the calming waves wash over him as he shook uncontrollably. He felt a cool cloth touch his face and he struggled to open his eyes.  He saw Lan Zhan through the haze, looking concerned, wiping the sweat and tears from his face.   A whimper choked out and Lan Zhan pulled him into his lap.

“Wei Ying is safe.  Wei Ying is protected.  No one will hurt Wei Ying again.”  Lan Zhan soothed as he rocked Wei Ying in his lap.

Wei Ying curled into Lan Zhan and began sobbing again, releasing all the tension that had built up during his panic attack.  Lan Zhan shifted to cradle his head to his chest, and rubbed soothing circles into his back as he shook and sobbed.

“I am here.  Wei Ying is safe.”

They stayed like that with the calming waves, that he now realized was music, continuing to wash over Wei Ying.  His sobs eventually turned to hiccups, which eventually turned to small hitches in his breath.  His shaking turned to slight trembles.  Lan Zhan continued to hold on tight.

“Better?” Lan Zhan murmured into Wei Ying’s hair after what seemed like an eternity in his safe cocoon.

Wei Ying felt completely wrung out.  He barely had the energy to nod.  Lan Zhan pressed a kiss into his hair.  The music stopped.

“I shall make us some tea.”  Lan Xichen said soothingly.

Wei Ying didn’t have the energy to be afraid anymore.  When Lan Zhan picked him up and carried him to the table, settling him in his lap, leaning upright against his chest, he didn’t have the energy to even be embarrassed.

When Lan Xichen returned with the tea, Lan Zhan gently placed a cup in Wei Ying’s hand, and steadied it as he guided it up to get Wei Ying to take a sip.   Wei Ying was glad because he felt like without Lan Zhan, he would fall into a puddle on the floor.  He felt Lan Zhan brush the stray hair away from his face, and place a gentle kiss on his temple.

“Wei Ying is doing so good.”  Lan Zhan praised gently, causing fresh tears to spill down his cheeks. He didn’t feel like he was doing good.  He felt like he was a mess, like he was an embarrassment.

“Are panic attacks common?”  Lan Xichen asked gently.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan affirmed.  “Also nightmares.”

Lan Xichen nodded in understanding.  “I expect that there is a whole story as to why that is.  But now is probably not the best time to tell it.”

“Mn”

“Uncle, you’ll keep the secret, won’t you?”  Sizhui pleaded.

“Of course.  I would not do anything to bring harm to any member of my family.”  Lan Xichen smiled knowingly at his nephew.

Wei Ying choked out a sob at hearing that, and stared wide-eyed at Lan Xichen.

“You are safe here, Wei Ying.”  Lan Xichen said, with a soft, genuine smile.  “Of course my brother’s husband would always be safe here.”

It was Lan Zhan’s turn to choke.

Lan Xichen chuckled gently.  “Oh Wangji, I think the only ones who DIDN’T know how you two felt about each other were the two of you.”

“You cannot tell Jin Guangyao.”  Lan Zhan said darkly, causing Wei Ying to whimper at hearing the name.

A confused look passed over Lan Xichen’s face, then quickly left.  “Of course.  He is not privy to all of the secrets of Cloud Recesses.  This is a Lan Sect matter, it does not concern him.”

Lan Xichen set down his teacup and stood up.  “I shall leave you to get settled and rest.  It was not my intention to cause any discomfort.”  He bowed to Wei Ying in apology, then gracefully exited the Jingshi.

Sizhui excused himself quietly, and Lan Zhan scooped up Wei Ying and placed him in a warm bath.  Lan Zhan settled behind Wei Ying and brushed out his hair as he let the warm water soak into his soul.  Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

#mdzs fic #the untamed #wangxian #panic attack #whump

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #35: Mephistopheles

Today one Fate and Phantasms we’re making someone from who the greatest magicians have something to learn, the magical Mr. Mistoff- sorry, wrong one. We’re building the demon of deceit and clown prince of crime, Mephistopheles! This is a very unusual build. Some characters are held back by restraints like “ease of play”, “being powerful”, or “not peaking at level 5″, but Mephistopheles laughs in the face of all of them.

There’s a spreadsheet if you want to rip this band-aid off right away, or you can savor the pain with a level-by-level breakdown below the cut. I’m sorry.

Race and Background

Homunculi aren’t a player race in DnD, so if we can’t be accurate, we can at least be thematic. You’re doing a very good impression of an Asmodeus Tiefling, adding 1 to Intelligence and 2 to Charisma. This also gives you 60′ of Darkvision, Hellish Resistance to fire damage, and an Infernal Legacy, which currently lets you cast the Thaumaturgy cantrip. 

You’re most certainly a Charlatan if I’ve ever seen one, dragging down anyone you can get your hands on. This gives you proficiency with Deception (saying you didn’t slip a bomb into someone’s jacket) and Sleight of Hand (slipping a bomb in someone’s jacket).

Stats Your highest stat is your Intelligence: you’re clever enough with clockwork to make bombs that run around on their own. Next is Dexterity: you’re a clown after all, capering around is what you do. Third is Wisdom, which should be lower, but we’ll need it for multiclassing. Your party will probably thank you for this: they’ll be within blast radius enough without you getting charmed too. Next is Constitution- you haven’t blown yourself up yet, so you’re probably at least a bit tougher than that bore, Andersen. After that is Charisma: you have a forceful personality, but honestly when was the last time you convinced someone you weren’t up to no good? Finally, we’re dumping Strength. You may have some pretty good pecs in your final art, but that’s nothing by servant standards.

Class Levels

1. Rogue 1: You general lack of strength and habit of ending up on the wrong side of morality make you quite a roguish caster. At level 1, rogues gain proficiency in Dex and Int Saves and four rogue skills, here being Acrobatics, Perception, Stealth, and Intimidation. Your capering and sneakiness let you slip bombs into places others might not notice, and let’s be honest, a clown in a skintight leotard is just plain terrifying. 

Rogues also gain Expertise in two skills (Sleight of Hand and Acrobatics), a Sneak Attack (1d6 extra damage if you’re using a ranged or finesse weapon and have advantage or another enemy is within 5′ of the target), and Thieves’ Cant, a language indecipherable to anyone who isn’t a rogue. A dagger can be reflavored as a giant pair of scissors easily enough, so sneak attacks work fine for you.

2. Rogue 2: At second level you have a Cunning Action, letting you dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action for extra mobility. 

3. Rogue 3: Arcane Tricksters can blend their love of breaking the law with magical skill, learning wizard spells to augment their natural skill. Most of those spells aren’t explosions though, so we’re not taking that. You are a Thief, which at third level means you have Fast Hands which adds sleight of hand checks, thieves’ tools uses, and Use an Object actions to your list of Things You Can Do In Your Bonus Action. You also learn how to do Second-Story Work, enhancing your capering by adding your dex mod to running jumps, and climbing no longer costs extra movement. Also, your Infernal Legacy kicks in again, and you can now cast Hellish Rebuke as a second level spell once per long rest. All spells from your Legacy use Charisma as the casting ability.

4. Wizard 1: I mentioned we’re peaking at level 5 earlier, so it’s time to wrap this up. You studied under (and then killed) a skilled alchemist when you were alive, so you have some magical knowledge as well. As a first level wizard, you learn Spellcasting, using Intelligence as your casting ability, and Arcane Recovery, which will let you recover a 1st level spell slot on short rests in a level. 

When you first gain your spellbook, you get three cantrips and six first level spells. Create Bonfire and Thunderclap are mere firecrackers compared to what we’ll get next level, and Mending will come in handy in the second half of the build. Cause Fear and Tasha’s Hideous Laughter play up your clownishness, Color Spray, Earth Tremor, and Grease will make it much harder for your enemies to get around. Finally, Chromatic Orb is a very versatile spell that can play into your strengths without leaving you locked into only fire and thunder spells.

5. Wizard 2: At second level, your Infernal Legacy kicks in again, and you can cast Darkness once per long rest. You also become a Conjuration Wizard, becoming a Conjuration Savant for cheaper conjuration spells, and more importantly, you learn Minor Conjuration. This lets you use your action to make an inanimate, nonmagical object appear in your hand or within 10′ of you. There’s a limit on the size and weight of this object, but not its cost. That’s important, because things are about to get a little silly. 

In the Dungeon Master’s Guide, there’s optional explosives you can add to the game. You’ll need help from your DM if you want these to be viable at higher levels, but they’re very strong at level five, which is where you are right now. With Minor Conjuration, you can create a Bomb, Horn of Gunpowder, or a full Bundle of Dynamite as your action. Then you can use your Fast Hands to use these explosives as your bonus action. The bombs and gunpowder aren’t that strong, but Dynamite can deal 10d6 Bludgeoning Damage to creatures within 20′ of it, and its dex save only halves damage. It can even be made with a fuse if you want to get to a safe distance first. That’s a silly amount of damage to have every turn, for free, this early in the game. This even beats fireball, and doesn’t require a spell slot.

6. Cleric 1: You pursue your goal of making people explode with religious fervor, which is just enough of an excuse to make you a Zeal Cleric. At level 1, clerics get their own Spellcasting, using Wisdom as your ability. You also become a Priest of Zeal, giving you some bonus proficiencies with heavy armor and martial weapons, as well as letting you attack as a bonus action after attacking with your main action a number of times equal to your wisdom modifier per long rest. If someone’s attacking you in melee range, you should probably put the bombs away. Or don’t, you have fire resistance after all. 

Clerics can prepare their spells, but as a zeal cleric you also get Searing Smite and Thunderous Smite to make your scissors really cut deep. For your cantrips, you learn Sacred Flame and Toll the Dead (which despite the names, neither of them do fire or thunder damage), and Light, because the best thing to do to someone after they stumble out of a cloud of darkness is shine a flashlight in their face.

7. Cleric 2: At second level, you can Channel Divinity in one of two ways. Turn Undead sends undead packing with a wisdom save, and Consuming Fervor is why we’re here. With this feature, you can use your Channel Divinity to maximize any fire or thunder damage you cause. You can only channel your divinity once per short rest.

8. Cleric 3: Third level clerics gain 2nd level spells, and yours include Magic Weapon to further improve your scissors and Shatter to start using up your Divinity uses.

9. Cleric 4: You finally get your first ASI, and we’re using it to get the feat Flames of Phlegethos. Whenever you cast a fire spell, you can now reroll any ones in the damage, and also wreathe yourself in flames until the start of your next turn. This causes any melee attackers to take 1d4 fire damage when they hit you. You’re going to be the epicenter of explosions anyway, but some extra protection never hurt.

10. Cleric 5: Your Turn Undead becomes Destroy Undead, instantly killing any undead of CR 1/2 or lower when they fail their wisdom save. You also get third level spells, including Haste, so you can attack and throw bombs in the same turn, and the ever-popular Fireball, which at this point is still outclassed by dynamite.

11. Cleric 6: You can now channel divinity twice per short rest for extra powerful fireballs, and you can make a Resounding Strike. This means that every time you hit a large or smaller creature with thunder damage, you can push them away from you up to 10′.

12. Now that we’ve taken all the best goodies from the clerics, it’s time to head back to a more reasonable class: Artificer. First level artificers can use Magical Tinkering to add minor magical effects to tiny objects, like making sounds, shining a bit of light, or displaying small pictures. You also get a third kind of Spellcasting, this one using Intelligence as your casting ability. You get two cantrips (Poison Spray and Shocking Grasp are rather clownish), and can prepare first level spells from the artificer spell list.

13. Artificer 2: You learn how to Infuse Items, turning them into magical items. You know four infusions from the infusions list, but can only have two of them active at once. They’re all very useful, but none of them are bombs, so I’ll let you decide which ones will work best in your campaign.

14. Artificer 3: You know The Right Tool for the Job, letting you create one set of artisan’s tools over the course of an hour. The tools are nonmagical, and last until you make another set. In more fun news, you become an Artillerist, gaining Shield and Thunderwave as class spells. You can also make an Eldritch Cannon, a small or tiny construct that you can command as a bonus action. You can make a Flamethrower, which shoots 15′ cones of fire, dealing 2d8 fire damage on failed dex saves, a Force Ballista, hitting targets with spell attacks that deal 2d8 force damage and pushing them 5′ away, or a Protector, adding 1d8 + your intelligence mod temporary hit points to nearby creatures. Regardless, the cannon has 18 AC, HP equal to five times your artificer level, 10 in all abilities, and can be made once per long rest or by using spell slots. It’ll live for an hour or until you dismiss it.

15. Artificer 4: Use your second ASI to round out your Intelligence and Wisdom for more and stronger spells.

16. Artificer 5: You can now tactically carve your wand, turning it into an Arcane Firearm. This adds an extra 1d8 damage to a single creature hit by each spell. You also gain second level artificer spells, including Scorching Ray and Shatter. Again.

17. Artificer 6: You now have Tool Expertise, doubling your proficiency with any check involving tools. You could mix this with your rogue expertise if you wanted to be obscenely good at breaking into places, but I’ll leave that to your discretion. You also gain two more known infusions, and have have one more item infused at once.

18. Artificer 7: You now have Flashes of Genius. When you or another creature within 30′ of you makes a check or saving throw, you can use your reaction to add your intelligence modifier to the roll. You can do this a number of times equal to your intelligence modifier per long rest.

19. Artificer 8: Use your last ASI to add some Dexterity to make yourself harder to hit and harder hitting.

20. Artificer 9: Your capstone level turns your cannon into a proper ticktock bomb! You can command the cannon to detonate, dealing 3d8 force damage to creatures within 20′ of it. All other damage is also increased by 1d8.

Pros: Mephistopheles is very adaptable, with a great deal of low-level spells that can be swapped out each day. The sheer number of things you can make out of thin air is also admirable. He can also be a very strong damage dealer at low levels if your DM doesn’t remove bombs entirely.

Cons: This build is overcomplicated even by my standards. You have four spell lists using all three spell abilities, divinities and infusions to keep track of, and even a second body to deal with in combat! This build seems almost designed to drive you mad trying to play it (which would be in character, admittedly). Summoning explosives is nice, but you have to wonder if it is worth removing any chance at higher level spells. Finally, the most annoying drawback is the lack of consistency in explosions. The DMG uses bludgeoning damage, the cleric uses thunder damage, and the artificer uses force damage, all to represent the same thing, meaning they don’t quite mesh together if you’re playing rules as written.

#fgo #fate grand order #mephistopheles #dnd 5e #Fate and Phantasms

[swanqiu]

A STUDY IN CHARACTER LAYERS.

——— slight mentions of: drugs, death

LAYER  001 :   THE  OUTSIDE.

NAME.   zhang qiu / “cho chang”.

EYE COLOR.   light brown.

HAIR STYLE / COLOR.  black, although more of a dark brown in most lights. she usually wears it down, if not in a neat bun at the office or a nice plait during matches.

HEIGHT.   5′3″

CLOTHING  STYLE.   black jeans! athletic shorts! small pieces of statement jewelry! turtlenecks! sleeveless tops with lacy straps! rayon blouses with 3/4 sleeves! tapered slim-fit pantsuits! shoes with some height that also pair with many different outfits! muggle hoodies supporting the local rugby and football teams! she “borrows” her partner’s tees and sweaters and casual wear, so lol add those to the list. she’s big on practicality and comfort over flair and height of fashion, but she does like keeping up with trends and coordinating her outfits to reflect that.

BEST  PHYSICAL  FEATURE.   her smile! it’s absolutely very cliche, but when she smiles and her nose does that crinkly thing and her eyes get all starry, it’s very unfair how powerful it is. alternatively, she also has a great ass, so there’s that.

LAYER  002 :   THE  INSIDE.

FEARS.   losing people she loves. having someone d*e during a healing procedure and her mind just shutting down during it.

GUILTY  PLEASURE.   parfaits! going for a late night fly! being on top!!!

BIGGEST  PET  PEEVE.   people who sneeze/cough without covering their mouth and nose. people in the magical community who somehow think muggles are “less developed” or “behind” without magic, when they’re the ones who haven’t even moved beyond printed news and radios to circulate current events and pop culture tbh.

AMBITIONS  FOR  THE  FUTURE.   to successfully campaign for a british seat at the international confederation of wizards (delegate timeline); to patent a line of at-home salves and develop at least one healing spell by the end of her residency (healer timeline); to just be the best mom and partner possible, honestly! (divorced verse)

LAYER  003 :   THOUGHTS.

FIRST  THOUGHTS  WAKING  UP.   huh. 6 AM already?

THINKS  ABOUT  MOST.   how other people are doing.

THINKS  ABOUT  BEFORE  BED.   any of the interactions she might have had that day.

WHAT  THEY  THINK  THEIR  BEST  QUALITY  IS.   her ability to depend on herself. her sociability. her commitment to fight for what’s right.

LAYER  004 :   WHAT’S  BETTER ?

SINGLE  OR  GROUP  DATES.   single (unless you’re harry potter and have to meet up with hermione later in the day). group dates are sometimes useful for gauging potential partners’ ability to crack on with her friends, though.

TO  BE  LOVED  OR  RESPECTED.   loved. respected. both?

BEAUTY  OR  BRAINS.   brains— for herself and for a potential partner. BUT i can’t lie, if we’re being really honest here, i’m absolutely tempted by the idea of cho being with a heart-of-gold jock whose sole purposes in life are to get gains, look good, and love cho. cho x himbo king is canon btw; the muggle she marries is a *checks notes* brickhouse rugby player who rescues animals on the side and doesn’t know the first thing about how getting sick works but will gladly and fondly listen to her explain everything from antibodies to the common cold to why wearing a mask helps.

DOGS  OR  CATS.   both.

LAYER  005 :   DO  THEY…

LIE.   not really, and never with bad intentions. as she gets older, she learns to use it more for self-preservation.

BELIEVE  IN  THEMSELVES.   yes.

BELIEVE  IN  LOVE.   yes. always.

WANT  SOMEONE.   no. in her divorced verse, the answer strays more toward yes.

LAYER  006 :   HAVE  THEY  EVER…

BEEN  ON  STAGE.   yes. ravenclaw common room parties are a whole event. terry boot may or may not have the negatives of the one time she sang karaoke to abba’s “dancing queen” on roger davies’s 17th birthday.

DONE  DRUGS.   yes. her muggle psychiatrist recommended medical mar*juana to cope with the very rare night terrors. she tried it for a little while, and it worked, but she ultimately prefers the calming potions made by healer pye. she used sleeping draughts for a little while after the war (who didn’t), but she hasn’t used them since.

GOTTEN  DRUNK.   lmao yes. me, ess the mun, cupping my hands around my mouth: baby girl’s a light weight, y’all!

CHANGED  WHO  THEY  WERE  TO  FIT  IN.   no. part of the reason we read about her experiencing ostracization at school (through harry’s pov) was because she didn’t waver in her defense of marietta and was quite open with her emotions (although she ended up having to repress a large part of her grief and anger anyway). she’s very firm about sticking to her resolutions and not bending who she is in order to do that. (that might get slightly lost in romantic relationships, though.) in her moved-to-the-muggle-world verse, she definitely changes her external habits and way of living to blend in, but it’s not so much a change of her character or her person.

LAYER  007 :   FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR.   beige. light purples. dark greens.

FAVORITE  ANIMAL.   swans.

FAVORITE  MOVIE.   the princess bride (1986). in the mood for love (2000). miss congeniality (2000). remember the titans (2000). 2000 was clearly a big year for her and movies.

FAVORITE  GAME.   lmao as if it would be anything other than quidditch! i’m not exactly sure how fans keep up with the sport if they’re not watching in-person, but when league cup season rolls around, the television is on, the radio is tuned, the newspaper articles about game highlights and star players are read, the plumpton tutshill jersey is ritualistically worn...

LAYER  008 :   SLEEP.

HEAVY  OR  LIGHT  SLEEPER.   light sleeper.

WHAT  SIDE  OF  THE  BED  DO  THEY  SLEEP  ON.   the right side— when she shares a bed with someone, it’s more comfortable for her to cuddle up to them if they’re on her left. in her divorced verse, she sleeps on whatever part of the bed the kids didn’t claim in the middle of the night.

WHAT  DO  THEY  WEAR  TO  BED.   old quidditch stuff— she has one or two ravenclaw scrimmage jerseys that are so old the house insignia’s already faded away. she also has endless tutshill tornadoes shirseys and tees that she’s worn and washed so often that the fabric’s become so soft now and is definitely susceptible to hem stitches unraveling. her favorite sleepwear combo is a pair of cotton boyshorts and to go braless under one of her oversized tutshill tees. comfortable— and as flattering and as easy access as possible, for those nights.

WEIRD  THINGS  THEY  DO  IN  THEIR  SLEEP.   she mumbles a lot sometimes.

LAYER  009 :   LOVE.

BIG  DECLARATIONS  OR  SMALL.   small, from her end, but she’s extremely appreciative (and only a little embarrassed) of big declarations toward her.

OPEN  OR  CLOSED  OFF.   open, although she wisely exercises caution with some people and thus becomes more closed off.

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  OR  SLOW  BURN.   slow burn! this is also me, ess, exposing myself for my love of a good slow burn.

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  OR  A  STRING.   a string, but maybe it leads to comfortably settling into that true love. she definitely doesn’t believe that there is only and exactly one love out there for each person. that myth is a terrible and disheartening way to go about life, frankly.

LAYER  010 :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE.

I  LOVE.   "...that things do get better. my friends. the people i consider my family. my children (added for divorced verse).”

I  FEEL.   "...insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. content with where i am, usually. but mostly, i tend to feel everything, unfortunately all at once.”

I  HIDE.   “...the parts of my feelings that lead into anger.”

I  MISS.   "...the simpler days. hogwarts days, honestly.”

I  WISH.   "...i could have had more time. to do things. to be with people. to enjoy certain moments. sorry— a bit vague, huh?”

tagged by: @gramenviride​ ( 💕 )​ tagging: lol i’ve already tagged a lot of you in these dash games/character studies and likely blew up your notifications over the last week; this turned out pretty long and might use more brain power than usual, so i’m gonna go with a general call for anyone that sees this and wants to fill this out to please do it! and tag me if you do! 

#indiecho character study #this was just an opportunity for me to hurl all of my headcanons at you; if you read through this whole thing i appreciate you sm #lol this was indeed a lot of things to just blast onto the dash but. i was given a platform and i have many thoughts what can i say!