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casscainmainly · 1 day ago

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A Deep Dive Into Why Cass Threw Dick Out A Window

If you've been here long enough you've probably seen or heard of this moment, which is super hilarious and iconic. It's mostly discussed in reference to Dick and Cass' relationship. However, in my opinion Cass throwing Dick out a window had very little to do with her opinion of him, or even of Barbara; it has more to do with her understanding of romance and love. I briefly touched on this in my gender/sexuality post, but I'm going to explain more in depth my interpretation of how Dick functions in Batgirl (2000) as a whole. (This moment is very open to interpretation though, this is just my opinion!). So let's try to answer Dick's question: what was that all about?

Love, Language, and DickBabs

While Puckett's run is notable for not having Cass date anyone, romantic love does play a role in Cass' early understanding of the world. It's the impetus that spurs her to write: in issue 2, she sees a wife read a letter from her deceased husband, and her reaction affects Cass so strongly she immediately starts trying to write. (She also kisses the husband on the cheek earlier, which may or may not be a crush). Romance, and the ability to communicate your love, is a fundamental part of Cass' desire to learn language.

So we have Cass, who has experienced neither love nor language, living with Babs, who's in a relationship with Dick. This telephone conversation in #4 (the issue where a metahuman changes Cass' brain into understanding language) again links romance to communication. Dick and Babs are talking on the phone, unable to see each other but understanding each other perfectly; Cass and Babs, on the other hand, live together and can't understand each other at all.

"She can't talk, so it's not all that different [to living alone]." Babs is telling an eavesdropping Cass that her inability to speak prevents her from love and connection - a love and connection symbolised by one of the first romantic relationships Cass is consistently around, Dick and Barbara.

Dick as an Ideal

There's a debate whether Cass likes Dick or not because half the time they're friendly, and half the time she's punching him or throwing him out windows. This disparity makes sense if you consider that Cass strongly associates DickBabs with communication, understanding, love - very idealised notions - but she does not associate Dick as a person with them. Her interactions with Dick (sans Babs) are cute and normal - Batgirl #29 and Nightwing #81 feature some very adorable Dick-Cass moments, with no real tension whatsoever.

It's only when Cass sees Dick in a romantic light (as in associated with Babs) that she makes him into a symbol.

Cass often tries to copy Babs, thinking it's the 'correct' thing to do - in DC First: Batgirl/Joker, she goes after Joker because that's what Barbara did; later in Horrocks' run she'll wear Barbara's outfit. In a way, Cass' affairs with Tai'Darshan and Kon - as much as I do think Tai'Darshan was genuine attraction - is another way to 'copy' Barbara. In #42, Cass stares at a picture of Dick and Babs while asking if Babs likes boys. Obviously Cass knows the answer is yes, but see what she asks next, and how Barbara responds:

She shifts from 'like' to 'love', and Babs responds that she 'care[s]' about him. For Cass, whose arc in Horrocks' run is about parsing out the nuances of attraction, understanding the difference between like, love, and care is incredibly difficult. She struggles to separate familial from romantic (Bruce in #50) or romantic from platonic (Kon, and in somewhat the reverse way Steph). In this conversation, Cass comes to associate Dick with like, love, and care - DickBabs becomes not just a symbol of romantic love, but of any connection whatsoever.

The Old Costume

I've discussed elsewhere that Cass wearing Babs' old costume in #45 is a representation of her desire to be 'girly', and how she associates girlhood with someone other than herself, discarding her own costume for Babs'. But putting on a costume is not the only prerequisite for being a 'girl'. In Babs' speech to Cass, she emphasises being sexually attractive to men, with her final comment being about this "particular look Dick used to give [her]". For Cass, visual language is incredibly important; putting on Babs' costume is not about being or feeling like a girl, but about being perceived as one. Dick is symbolic of the perceiver: the one who can essentially 'grant' women their femininity.

But Cass is disgusted when Tim calls her hot, which adds to her confusion - why should Dick being attracted to Babs make Babs happy, but Tim (who's not a sibling at this time) perceiving her like that grosses her out? Cass' inability to feel good - to feel 'feminine' - through the male gaze is another sign, to her, of her failure to be a woman.

Which finally brings us to issue 46...

That Ableist Kon Comment

Cass finds out Dick breaks Babs' heart and then starts hallucinating on a drug. One of the things she hallucinates is Kon saying "who wants to date a cripple? Ain't that right, Nightwing?" and Nightwing responding "not me--at least, not anymore."

For the first time, we get to the heart of why DickBabs mattered to Cass: it was an example of a disabled person in a loving, romantic relationship. It goes back to that phone call in #4, where Babs implies that Cass is hard to care about because she can't speak. The Kon comment suggests Cass has carried that with her all this time, trying to find proof that she can be loved, no matter her disability. DickBabs showed her it could be done - the break-up shows her now that it can't be done.

Dick's hallucination mocks her disability: "look at her--she can't even read!" Attributing this mockery to Dick (whose real-life counterpart, unlike the other hallucinations, has never said anything remotely like this) shows that this 'Dick-as-ideal' is intrinsically tied to Cass' self-worth.

Honestly this whole post stemmed from me thinking about this one panel. There is no real reason, from Cass' view of Dick as a person, for her to think he's brave and noble and kind (more so than anyone else). But it's in the DickBabs context - that Dick seemed to love, wholeheartedly, a disabled woman - that makes Cass think this way. And now that DickBabs is broken up, it shows that she, too, is rotten to the core; that someone like her cannot be loved.

And so when Dick shows up, she throws him out the window.

Conclusion

In this moment, Cass isn't just reacting to Dick breaking up with Barbara, she's reacting to what it means to her. If Dick can't stay with Barbara, then that means Cass, as another disabled woman, is also unable to be loved. This all leads up to #50, which features another Cass punch to Dick's face, but more importantly is when Bruce and Cass reconcile through Cass' first language. It's a confirmation that though her verbal skills may not be fully developed, she still can communicate, and she can love and be loved.

I don't think a lot of the ideas I touched on here are fully developed, or conclude cleanly. For example, how does Cass' 'failure' to be a woman relate to her inability to be loved? Is she able to have a stable romantic relationship? There are lots more questions, but the role Dick specifically plays in Cass' understanding of romance is probably not going to develop further. I just think it's interesting how Horrocks uses the Dick-Babs relationship to explore Cass' identity.

#cassandra cain #dick grayson #barbara gordon #batgirl 2000 #meta #im sorry if this doesn't make sense im not sure how coherent this is #i always see people bring the window thing up as an example of cass hating dick which is fair but undersells this moment by a lot #it's one of the many many moments in horrocks run that are somewhat ambiguous and have to do with cass' gender crisis #people can still joke about this ofc it's funny but it's also just really intriguing to me #idk anyway forever a horrocks champion i guess. he gets some flack for sexualising cass (which does happen and is gross)#but his exploration of cass' gender and sexuality is STILL unmatched. god give cass more long-term woman writers

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seulszn · 1 day ago

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Caitlyn is cannonically an Lesbian so don't headcannons her sexuality as anything other than that she's not straight. She's not bisexual she's a lesbian

Vi is cannonically a Lesbian don't headcannons her sexuality as anything other than that she likes woman, she's married to a woman in the LOL universe (Caitlyn). She isn't straight and she's not bisexual.

Ellie Williams is canonically a lesbian not bisexual, nor straight. All of her love interests in the show have been girls never men.

Like the amount of people trying to erase these characters queerness is insane if you can’t accept that character for their sexuality then that makes you homophobic . And who cares about people writing fem x readers about straight characters like hello did we forget straight is the default sexuality? Also just because a character has a partner of different gender doesn’t automatically make them straight.

The fetishization, sexualization of lesbian’s is absolutely sick. Woman can NEVER have a space without a man being upset about something. you guys have a SHIT ton of media out their that are directed to you. Like even lesbian porn, GL’s and Yuri’s are directed to men never the audience it is attended for which is woman.

And the transphobia that is happening in the community is also fucking sick trans women are women idk why this is another discussion that needs to be had in 2025. Writing Male X readers about Lesbian characters is a form or fetishizing which is overall very sick and homophobic and overall harmful. And getting mad and upset about something that is a very serious issue makes it seem as if you don’t see lesbians as humans but as a toy to your sexual mind.

Lesbian fetishization is the act of treating lesbians as sexual objects for the enjoyment of a privileged group, rather than accepting their sexuality. It can have real-world consequences, such as homophobic attacks and corrective grape.

And for all the men mad because Lesbians or woman in general are Men haters look at yourself and see why. You can’t respect anyone and then get so butt hurt when your called out for it. When people were speaking up about you guys writing Male readers about lesbian characters you tried to justify it when their isn’t any justification for your sick and twisted mindset.

If you maybe idk use your brain and realize why woman don’t like y’all you wouldn’t ask yourself “why doesn’t woman like me” like come on now look at the media, look at what is going on in this world right now for woman just existing. Woman in some countries can’t even speak in public without the fear of getting killed. You guys have so much privilege that it’s starting to make y’all think you are so damn superior. Its so tiring seeing discourse in the tags about something that shouldn’t even be discussed

If your a lesbian you like woman

If your bisexual you like both genders

If your straight your straight but at the same damn time it’s a default sexuality. Also majority of the characters y’all arguing about never once said or mentioned they was straight so y’all argument is pointless.

And another thing they aren’t real characters it doesn’t matter but the only things that do are their background, race, and sexuality

A space that is for woman respect it if a character is a lesbian respect it stop arguing about pointless ass shit and Men once again stop fetishizing lesbians and get a life.

Also another thing (I think the account got deleted) stop writing smut for Isha your fucking sick and twisted that’s a WHOLE ass child their ain’t no such thing as aging up a character. If you have to age up a child to fucking sexualize it you’re a whole ass pedo and need to turn yourself in. It is bizarre how many I’ve seen come up on my timeline like chat are people ok in the head? Like this is a repeat of the MHA fandom writing smut for Eri a whole ass child like it makes no sense that you looked and Isha and was like “I wanna write smut about her” like your weird and need to be called out about it.

Both the Arcane and TLOU fandom needs a cleanse and I mean fast cause this shit don’t make sense AT all like yall done lost y’all’s ever loving mind. (I sound like a black momma 😭)

Also one more thing my page is not a safe space for men I put it in my rules that I don’t want men interacting with my stuff because I am a lesbian and don’t feel comfortable with men interacting with my content and y’all don’t even listen to that so as I said before if a space is for woman don’t try to put yourself in that space if you aren’t the targeted demographic. Hopefully everything I said made sense.

#☆— mj speaks #seulszn speaks #seulszn #arcane #abby anderson x reader #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane x reader #arcane vi x reader #caitvi × reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie william x reader #jinx x reader #caitlyn kiramman × reader #mel medarda #vi arcane #jinx arcane

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lurkingshan · 1 day ago

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Spare Me Your Mercy, Love in the Big City, and the Trap of Pursuing Mainstream Popularity for Queer Art

I read this excellent post by @waitmyturtles yesterday tackling the frustrating failures of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show that was one of my most anticipated of the year, but that ended up so lost in its own confusing blend of sauces that I didn't even finish it. I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

Because here's the thing about great queer art—it's almost never popular with mainstream audiences, especially in socially conservative countries. High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives. For an illustration of this, look no further than another highly anticipated queer drama of this year in Love in the Big City. Easily the queerest show to ever get made and aired on Korean television, it drew major protests before it even started, forcing the production to release it quickly in one go to ensure it would reach audiences. And why were those conservative groups so afraid of this little old drama? Because even just in its trailer and promotional materials, it was clear this was no sanitized, G-rated drama created to make gay people seem more palatable to the masses (unlike the film version with the same name, which not coincidentally has been much more warmly received by the Korean media establishment). This show was real, and raw, and QUEER in a way that terrified those bigots, because they know one of the most important ways the oppressed can advocate for themselves is by demonstrating their humanity through art.

Which brings me back to turtles’ post, and the importance of separating the concerns of art and commerce when discussing the different ways media can succeed. This is something I had some good dialogue about with @biochemjess @pharawee @clairedaring @flowerbeasblog and turtles (and even more of you in the tags) when I was still watching and posting about Spare Me Your Mercy. I originally posted to unpack why the show was flopping narratively, which turned into a discussion of the fact that it was getting good ratings from the domestic audience despite this. And while I appreciated understanding how the show is landing with its priority audience, for me, it’s very important to keep a distinction between these two different kinds of success. Especially in discussions of queer art, and especially for a show whose creators explicitly said they were intentionally downplaying the queer romance part of the queer romance ( @benkaben) to avoid “distracting” from their other messaging goals.

The important thing to keep in mind is that for queer stories, when they are popular with a mainstream audience it’s often because they are stripping any authenticity from the representation of queer people. Turtles addressed this well in her review of 2gether when she posited that part of the reason it was such a phenomenon in conservative Asian countries (aside from the timing of its release in the early days of the global pandemic), was because its presentation of queerness was mostly unrecognizable to real queer people, stripped of any true notion of queer sexuality or the realities of homophobia. Compare the reception of The Miracle of Teddy Bear—a show that absolutely refused to make its central queer character palatable for a mainstream audience, because the fact that he wasn’t palatable was the point—to that of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show whose creators chose to censor their own story. The ugly truth is that when we’re talking about queer dramas, the best and most vital shows are pretty much anathema to mainstream ratings success.

The impulse to pursue mainstream popularity and commercial success for queer art inevitably leads to watering down queer stories ( @twig-tea) to make them more light, comfortable and familiar to a majority heterosexual and socially conservative audience. And yes, of course, some degree of commercial success is necessary for queer art to get made in the first place. This is how the Thai BL market took off, by recognizing that there was an audience beyond queer people who were open to watching stories about boys falling in love, as long as it didn’t get too real. But there is a careful line to walk here, and it’s so important not to confuse popularity with artistic merit. Queer people won’t win liberation by self-censoring queer media to make it more palatable for mainstream audiences. We win when we make queer art so good and so honest that the mainstream is forced to acknowledge it. We win by challenging the mainstream perspective on queer people and how they should behave, not by catering to it. As @bengiyo said in a completely different discourse, the question is not whether the audience can love queer characters whose actual queerness is suppressed for their comfort. That kind of respectability politics is old hat and it never fucking gets us anywhere. The real question he posed is this: “Do you love us when we’re ugly, when we’re sick, when we’re old, when we’re being mean or catty?”

Which is why a show like Love in the Big City ultimately won by being so excellent, and so true, and so undeniable, that it broke through with audiences around the world and achieved some measure of recognition in spite of how very unpalatable it was to its domestic audience. Unlike Spare Me Your Mercy, this show did not get amazing domestic ratings, but its message was heard far beyond those who watched it on Korean television. And that is the point. Making authentic art that advances the struggle of queer people and making nominally queer art that can achieve mainstream popularity are completely different pursuits, and we must keep that in mind when we discuss whether and how these shows succeeded or failed. And while both must exist in a healthy media ecosystem, one will always be more vital for the survival of queer people than the other.

#spare me your mercy #love in the big city #thai bl #korean bl #kdrama #shan shouts into the void

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planetsnakes · 2 days ago

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I get this y'all right. I've never used AI to write an essay and never will

why the hell am i only given three months to write four different essays tho? Like sure some of the problem is my poor time management because I literally just became an adult.

For my dissertation I had to submit 3000 words (all jam pa ked full of fucking research) I had a couple of months to write this essay so what they did was wait until we had two months to show us how to write the essay, on a retreat which I couldn't go to thanks to getting sick. I asked if i could see the example essays another time and this just never happened due to copyright bullshit.

Now I didn't just get sick. I got really sick. 3 days in A&E just to be kicked out because they didn't find the problem. Literally everyone in my life is worried about me im so brave. The uni assured me this would be taken into consideration as long as I could get a doctors note.

I could not get a doctors note. They wont even pick up the phone it's been a month since I submitted this request.

So I spent ages setting up meetings to discuss with people in the uni my problems so they could write me a note. They didn't.

Now it's too far into the year to defer. I will lose so much fucking money if I give up now so here I go!

I completed the essay in like two weeks and I think i got something wrong on the timescale but ive been sick since november on and off getting better and worse.

I cant even remember writing a single essay for my university im fairly certain I'll never use these skills again because the only people who write academic papers are academics and I don't want to be an academic.

I can hear you saying "this isn't the norm"! Everyone goes through this at least once.

I know a lot abt uni life, I know a degree can be taken away if they found out someone cheated to get it no matter how long it's been since they got the degree. I know I didn't work this hard to never know if I could make it on my own merit

Yet there are places where the university could have supported me better. Students are expected to do so much and im gonna be so real the you're only cheating yourself narrative is just annoying. I could do this much better if every time I wasn't rushed because they gave me the resources last minute or constantly told me to check back later.

I'm fortunate enough to always get an extension when I ask thanks to my DID diagnosis & I actually considered myself lucky when I caught covid (yeah I also caught fucking covid I was sick for so long I missed so many lectures that I can't catch up on at all) but like seriously?

I haven't even mentioned the poverty, living conditions, the fact most of us have to work through uni, ow the internet changed the way unis talk to students, covid messing students up or international students and how unfair the system is to them.

I feel this could be a chance at a brilliant conversation about how much stress students are put under because even when we have the skills we don't get the opportunity to use them

#I mean my hair is literally turning grey and no one in my family started greying this young #idk i agree but also like #there's a reason people turn to ai and it's not just being lazy

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violetsunburn · 2 days ago

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The ghost war pr1

"Dear Justice leaders, I, King of the infinite realms, high King phantom. Has requested a meeting of the diplomatic level tonight at 6:00 p.m. My fright knights and I will meet you to discuss issues regarding my people please be prepared and await our arrival.""Long reign the king and may the infinite grant us peace and prosperity."

The Justice League was in an emergency meeting that was surprisingly called by John Constantine. Everyone in the League knew about the infinite realms and the terrifying king that ruled. But the knights? They were kept under wraps, they worked in the shadows of the realms.

Now that they know that the King of the infinite realm will be at the Watchtower in minutes? It's terrifying, and the leaguers had all hands on deck and they needed to know what was coming.

John started "there are four knights, but don't let the numbers fool you, one of them could replace an army. They are all undoubtedly loyal to the king and will do whatever he asks."

"The First one is the King's right hand, he is the Red knight. He is the Spirit of Sanctuary and he has Soul Shredder. To put it short when the Soul Shredder cuts someone, they are teleported to an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real."

"The second one is Sir Wren Hallow, he is the fright knight, and he is the Spirit of Halloween. He used to serve the pariah dark but after king phantom took the crown he began to served him. He is the co-leader of the military and he is more calmed down but is still brutal."

"Then there's the King's sister the Spirit of Freedom. She is the other co-leader of the military, and despite wanting freedom she is ruthless. She is also the unspoken leader of the Fright Knights."

"Last one is The Spectre they are a divine entity representing vengeance on behalf of The Presence, considered God in the context of Abrahamic religion. They are the Spirit of Retribution, and will put the punishment they see fit which 9 times out of 10 isn't bloody Sunshine and rainbows."

After John finished his speech and left the Leaguers speechless. These knights could probably go toe to toe with the league but even Batman had to admit with the king? The Justice League had no chance if it was a fair fight.

Superman was the one to break the silence "Do they have any weakness, or a way to give us a chance?"

Constantine sighed and put his hands in his hair, brushing it back. "No, they have no kryptonite, no rocks or gadgets that could even slow them down. The only thing I can think of is hope we can help the king."

The Justice Leaguers fell back into silence and they waited for about a minute. Then the Watchtower began to get colder and darkness began to swirl into a slow tornado. John eyed the other Leaders and gave them a look them screamed one thing "that's them".

#dc x dp #danny x jason #justice league dark #young justice #Justice League is afraid of Danny #fright night #Fright knight Jazz #Fright knight Jason #ghost king danny

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utilitycaster · 7 hours ago

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thank you so much for your analysis on BH, Ive been thinking for ages that they seemed like the wrong fit for this particular campaign and it's nice to see that I'm not alone. It kinda baffled me that even knowing the crux of the campaign was going to be about the fate of the gods, Matt didn't like... just tell the cast that their characters opinion on divinity would be important?

I really feel like this plot needed more religious characters, even if they weren't outright clerics or paladins. The only one filling that role is Sam and while I love him and FCG his approach to religion seems kinda... cynical? shallow? Possibly just more focused on the goofs of it all. Which is a fine choice in a vacuum but god, what I wouldn't do for this party to have a Caduceus or even a Vax figure so it didn't feel like a bunch of agnostics were deciding the fate of religion.

So here's my opinion, and I've said this before: I agree that making characters who had a coherent, developed opinion on divinity before the campaign that was discussed as part of the character build is important...but I actually don't think it matters if there's no clerics or paladins or even religious characters. I also said this before: my ultimate problem, in the end, is not just the indecision but the fact that they're not even exploring indecision; they just are drifting through a narrative from which they feel disconnected. I as a person viewing the show think killing the gods is a dumb idea, but a campaign in which the characters confidently embraced an anti-god position and took actions in the service of that goal would be infinitely more enjoyable. I do not need characters to live out my personal values, because I do that in my real life, in the same way that I can enjoy characters who are vastly different than I in personality.

I think Keyleth is a fantastic example of both indecision as an actual conscious character trait (during Campaign 1) and a character who is not religious or even particularly respects the gods but who seems to have actually thought through the implications and made an assessment. Keyleth's analysis paralysis and fear of making a harmful decision or being hurt is the point of the character, and Marisha explores it directly during Campaign 1; it is ultimately what is holding Keyleth back from becoming the leader she needs to be, and working through it is the arc of her character. Avoidance or indecision is a fantastic character flaw to explore (Bellara in Veilguard is a recent example that's been on my mind) but it is a character flaw to be explored, and for the character to do something interesting with, and Bells Hells just...as I've said, drift. They keep going through open doors because they are there and never say "do I even want to go through this door? Why or why not?" and the entire purpose of a character in fiction, in my opinion, is to ask that question.

I actually pretty strongly disagree about FCG. I think they took a bit longer than I'd like to click but I actually found FCG's exploration of religion to be one of the deeper ones in the series. I think the party often disparaged it, and the fandom certainly did ("Fearne should make that stupid robot eat his own coin" will remain burned in my brain forever; I cannot take someone who said that as anything but a shriveled husk of a person unless they admit it was horribly mean-spirited and they regret it) but FCG is the rare member of Bells Hells who actually explored the concept of having autonomy and agency - that was his entire arc, actually - and to have this be told through embracing the god of chance and freedom, whom he learned about by chance, was a highlight of the campaign. I would strongly advise you reconsider seeing this as nothing but a bit; just because Sam tends to make a lot of dumb jokes doesn't mean he's not often telling a pretty profound story underneath, and this is a lesson it took me until this campaign to learn, to be honest. But I will say I don't think FCG being here now would fix things any more than Braius does, in part because the rest of the party looked down on faith but also didn't really condemn it. They just made vaguely unkind comments and continued doing fuck all. As my ask earlier today said, they didn't actually challenge each other; they just sort of passive-aggressively bitch. The point that many people made very early on, that Bells Hells has a veneer of cooperation and civility but lack the actual true bonds that only arise through working through conflict, remains true.

Getting back to it, I think the fact that NPCs who are not affiliated with the Prime deities nor Betrayer Gods and even struggle against them (Percy, Keyleth; the entire Kryn Dynasty; a massive number of entirely secular governments including the Clovis Concord, the remnants of the Cerberus Assembly, as far as I know the Marquesian governments, the Silken Squall) are unambiguously against Ludinus and the release of Predathos means that it's not the lack of clerics or paladins or everyday religious people. I don't care if agnostics decide the fate of the world, but DAMN those agnostics better have a fucking vision for what the world should be. I could talk at length about why I think killing the gods is a deranged and unrealistic solution to the problems the characters claim to think it will fix, but ultimately I don't even feel like the characters care about those problems. The titans are still going to be fucking dead, conquest and colonialism already exist within Exandria without the aid of any gods. Hell, Ashton's whole situation could be replicated precisely again in a world with no gods; and as the Ruidusborn were created by Predathos as keys to release it, I don't think there's a reason to have any more but I don't think that's really what Imogen was going for. It's the same kind of thing we call rapture culture among terminally online types: the idea that with one big act of violence you will usher in a new, better age. The idea that violent change is inherently for the better is infantile and utterly self-centered, as is the idea that putting off a choice until it becomes inevitable is anything other than selfish and stupid. I would rather the choice of the fate of the gods come from atheists who weren't infantile and self-centered and selfish and stupid than clerics and paladins who were. That's it.

#critical role #cr spoilers #answered #i am maintagging this one bc i think it might be the best summary i've done #and bc i maintain the issue isn't a lack of faith it's a lack of brains and empathy

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ilikelookingatthings · 1 day ago

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I think what bothers me is both sides are sort of right but I haven't seen people bring up the actual issue.

Mari IS valid for being upset. She gave chat a heads up she wouldn't be in Paris and he ASSURED her that he's be in Paris and guve her a signal with the vibrating toy if the city got attacked. She trusted that he could minimize damage until she got there and he did seem to a bit goofy when she asked him.

The city was in danger and got PERMANENT that he either could have mitigated.. .or the sentibeing wouldn't have been shut down if he had been there to battle it so she would have had time to go... if he had warned her she could have watched the news herself to speed back as well.

So from her perspective he did break her trust and was careless and it was very incharacter fir her to snap at him and spiral a bit and her temper coming out because that's what happens when she's worried. She tends to exaggerate hkw she feels to make a point especially because she misunderstood and thought chat wasn't taking it seriously. And normally chat is the one who blunces back...the one with stringer patience and thicker skin who doesn't give up...who doesn't seem to take things that personally. She's snapped at him before after all and he's always known to not take it that personally.

In Orgins the dude messed up along with her but he still went out there and trusted she'd show up and in her plan. When she lost fu and accidentally led hawkmoth to have all the other miraculouses. In gamer 2.0 when she was pissed and impatient and snapping at him e stated focus on the battle and didn't snap back and helped her get in a better mood to fight max. Heck in the specialize assumed he was being sneaky trying to give her a yellow flower despite her already turning him down so she thinks ge doesn't take her words that seriously....where in fact he was sincere in it being a friendship flower abd when it was rejected he rolled with it and offered himself flowers.

It makes complete sense for mari to snap at him cuz she is worried about Paris and personal damage and she misunderstood chat trying to focus on the battle infront of them as him not taking her concerns seriously. And nari's main issue in the special os she underestimates the impact she and her words has on people.

What bothers me is the show made a point that it was PLAGG'S idea not to tell ladybug. Adrien was willing to give up his chance to go on the field trip with his friends to fulfill his promise as unlike mari IN Startrain....master fu never told him he shouldn't miss out on important things just to be chat/LB. Adrien was worried LB would be disappointed in him but plagg...instead of reassuring Adrien LB would understand....that ladybug WOULDN'T be disappointed in adrien....plagg instead advised Adrien to just go on the trip and not feel guilty for going...that he could watch the news and speed back if a attack happened and avoid disappointing LB.

A plan that WOULD have worked probably if adrien and mari weren't trapped by the two American super teenagers trying to ship mari and adrien due to mari's feelings.

(and don't give me 'mari was trying to get over adrien so it doesn't count' when mari's REAL main motive of adrien going on this trip is because SHE wanted to go on a trip with adrien and she didn't want him alone with lila. Mari had no closure, she stared at his posters still and she even talked alot about adrien to luka when luka helped drive her to the pick up cuz she was late)

And more chat was trying to focus on fighting the villian infront of them so they could get that done quickly so they could go speed run to paris...he even asked for a plan and asked if they could discuss why he was in newyork later.

But mari assumed from the get go that chat DIDN'T have a good excuse for going to paris. Instead of choosing to rip into him or interrogate him later and focus on the task at hand. She knows you can't give too many details about civilian lives yet expected chat to tell her specifics mid battle. When chat asked for a plan to defeat the bad guy quicker she instead said NO, that she can't trust him anymore or work with him in the MIDDLE of him fighting...which is what distracted him and got him thrown and got anon catasclysmed.

And is what took up even more time!

Its definitly incharacter for mari to spiral more abd be upset and lash out because chat normally is the positive one who bounces back, takes it on the chin and finds a positive.

So it makes complete sense when CHAT understandably spirals because he catacyslmed someone, adult heros ripped into him and chased them, ladybug ripped into him and Paris took permanent damage...and mari doesn't realize how bad that is and doesn't try to drag him out of that because she normally doesn't have to and she is distracted by her iwn issues.

What bothers me is though is plagg never fesses up that it was plaggs idea not to tell ladybug. Mari doesn't think maybe chat had a good reason for coming to newyork cuz hawkmoth and akumas showed up there. She doesn't think aboit how SHE was the one who distracted him in the middle of the fight, refused to work together or how him leaving was due to her words of saying she doesn't trust hjm and can't work with him anymore and hkw she didn't refuse what those adult heros said at least.

Like....Mari gets chat back of course but she tells him to never leave like that again and that she can't be LB without him(or that she doesn't want to be cuz she threaten to give up bring LB)without acknowledging her words or how she distracted him. No plagg correcting her that it was plagg's idea or assumjng that chat must have followed hawkmoth here once she found out a akuma was around. No ankn feeling bad because by trapping him in yhe museum he couldn't rush back.

And it's not helped that the only one who seemed to back up adrien was right to want to go on the trip and fight for it was marinette. Bur WE know her real motive was due to her iwn crush and not wanting him around lila. So when his dad sends for adrien to go back to Paris which is adding another layer to adrien already feeling like it was a mistake to put his wants first to go on the trip..that adrien was selfish....Mari niot defending for adrien to stay....not even saying she's glad he came felt like shs backed gabe up.

And it feels more frustrating because we know the only reason adrien got to come was mari's meddling gave gabe a excuse to reconsider.

On one hand...it is consistant with mari flaws that she underestimates the impact of her words on adrien and chat and she sometimes misses exactly what went wrong but trying g to fix it anyways.

And her not actally understanding the right reason and everything...and accidentally falsely backing up that adrien was selfish for going actually is good set up for adrien to get more insecure in following seasons and not really understand his importance and why LB doesn't trust him with more important things. She went for the quickest way to get Chat back...semi threatening him to get him back. Just as gabe truies to drag adfien back quickly for safety since hawkmlth wss going to attack new york were he felt thevquickest way was. Y being blunt and unreasonable and reversing his decision even though GABE is the one making the danger and its not adrien being in the wrong.

And I GET the importance of the lesson that you can't just leave and that mistakes can be forgiven and chat probably should have had more faith LB didn't REALLY mean it. Not project his stuff with the dad...and it was still his choice not to tell LB and she had a right to be upset.

But even without his dad issues his logic for giving up his miraculous makes perfect sense with how LB refused to work with him to fight the bad guy before, he killed someone, adults said he wasn't worthy and LB not stopping his spiral at all. He didn't make excuses and she knows this is one of his fears from sandboy!

And itz frustrating because we know how serious he is! And it's nice they acknowledge mistakes happen and he's brought back....but God it was frustrating because no acknowledgment it was plagg's idea? Or that he was trapped in the museum and couldn't leave? No realization of why it would be understandable he believed her harsh words? Or that her assuming he wasn't taking the fight seriously caused issues a by elevating the fight and distracted him to get thrown? Heck mari never even got to tell adrien she wanted him yo stay or that she was glad he came...they sent him a cute picture to include him later but still!

No hint from anon his plan would have worked if ge hadn't been trapped on that museum?

And people tend to rip into adrien or mari in tge special. What about kagami and luka....but adrien was sincerely touched mari backed up his want to go on the trip when everyone gave him condolences. Adrien was grateful to mari so him wanting to hand out more with his friend makes sense! He thinks mari likes luka! Adrien isn't thinking of any of that as romantic! And he thinks mari can barely handle being next to him on a plane despite her claiming she isn't into him to everyone else!

And the joke with the flower js the fact chat was sincere in it being about friendship because unlike mari he had closure by confessing and he wasn't lying about his feelings....but could still choose how he wanted to water each plant/relationship while mari/LB assumed chat wasn't actually moving on because of how denial and terrible SHE js with her own crush/feelings. Contrasting how they both handle things.

Alli can think about is how adrien was used to validating his own feelings/views by himself but when he thoighf mari was backing him up...the influence she had over him in reased so when she didn't fight to validate jt again when his dad tried to take him home....adrien didn't fight it the way he normally would by himself after that despite Nino's protests.. especially considering mari was portrayed as someone who could get through to gabriel.

I mean in mari's defense she was diwn and in shock over losing chat.....but it did remind me that her support for adrien was more due to her own feelings rather than ACTUALLY aboit his right to go on the trip...even if she used the better reason to validate her support before to cover her real motive....which IS VERY incharacter and common for mari. And how if anon wasn't there and knew...bare minimum getting chat back would have taken longer because mari again didn't think about it from the other person's perspective.

Also does no one bring up tikki knew his identity and didn't say anything ir think anything about mari fighting to get adrien on the trip? Unless I'm wrong and owlman happened later.

Once again, Adrien is the sweetest kid ever, and this scene hurt

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 days ago

Text

The Harding's housemaid

Friedrich Harding x fem!reader (maid)

warning: kiss, comfort, fluff, mutual feelings, forbidden love, no use of Y/n

Summary: Even before Friedrich met his wife, his love was for someone else, someone who was inappropriate from the standpoint of society. Love found its way into the Harding house, and Friedrich once again tries to make clear his feelings for the housemaid who has longed for him since she was hired...love always finds a way.

Info: I knew I would write for Nosferatur, especially for Friedrich for obvious reasons, so have fun reading :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun always seemed to hide behind the clouds every day, there were hardly any real sunny days in the city of Wisborg, and when the sun did show itself, it was so weak and quiet that it could hardly be enjoyed.

The city in Germany just didn't seem to be a place for such nature, the weather was full of clouds and fog, cold and breezes that could be found everywhere.

The ships that came to them on the sea to restock, unload or take travelers were sparse but steady and it played into the pockets of one family in particular.

The Harding family, a long-established family who had been ship traders for several generations, a well-heeled family, a family in whose large house there was room not only for several rooms but also servants to look after them.

They fulfilled the wishes of all the members, whether it was for food, clothes, paper and ink, all they had to do was give and the servants made it possible, for which they were paid and had money.

Just as on this day when the servants were quiet but busy, the heir to the family name would soon be returning home with Sir Harding after a necessary visit to the dockyard and it was expected that the house would be immaculate.

Which is why the maids were running around the various rooms, not running but always taking a quick step as she had just taken care of the boiling water to keep the teapot from boiling over and was about to wipe the dust off the banisters once more when she paused.

She saw the familiar carriage stop downstairs in front of the dorr and through the cleaned glass window she recognized them, ,,Sir Harding and his son are back!” she called out audibly to the others and forced herself to tear herself away from her seat before she ran the risk of being discovered while watching.

But could anyone blame her?

Ever since she had been hired in the blossoming spring, her eyes couldn't seem to get away from this handsome man whose blue eyes seemed to seek hers just like that.

His eyes, which followed her every time she was in the same room as him, whether she was dusting or cleaning, he smirked when she had to stand on tiptoe to reach the top corners of the wall shelves.

His caution with her when he came back at night and he had repeatedly ordered her to stay in bed so he could prepare something for himself and she would need the sleep more than him.

Of course, nothing but the fantasies of a young woman of no status, society would have laughed at her and thrown her out the door and Frederick would have ended the talk by marrying a woman of his kind...she was just a housemaid and no lady.

A maid who waited patiently with the others at the door until it opened and watched quietly as the two men came back in, the cold creeping in with them and giving her a shiver, the weather never seemed to improve.

,,I want a fire in my rooms and you bring me some tea,” the younger of the two men said and gave her a quick glance before the others went back to their tasks or turned to the master of the house whose attention demanded more than just a fire and tea.

His look was not decisive, almost asking, as if he would disapprove of any order and wanted to discuss it with her on a different level, on a social hierarchy in which they were equal and not rich and poor.

After the men had already gone further into the house, the staff began to move, she made her way into the kitchen, hastily with a beating heart she reached for the teapot, took it from the stove and loaded a silver tray with a plate and cup before taking it up the stairs.

Carefully putting one step in front of the other, taking care not to fall and break the good porcelain she had picked out for him. Over the last few months, she knew more and more what he liked, Friedrich preferred the lighter colour with the flowers to the one with the buildings on the porcelain.

A fragrant tea in the morning, a coffee at noon and a warm room whenever he came back from his trips – after all, it was her job to give him whatever he wanted.

She tried to calm herself down when she stood in front of his room knocking and saying, ,,Harding? Your tea” and waited for the answer that surprised her when he opened the door instead of her doing it herself.

A slight smile on his lips as blue eyes regarded her and he stepped aside, ,,Please come in,” as if she were a guest and not a maid, a feeling of euphony coming over her and she just nodded hastily as she walked past him for a fraction too close, the smell of wood and sea surrounding him.

A bond began to break down when he disregarded etiquette, and not for the first time. His slightest attempts and gestures, however well-intentioned and courteous, were inappropriate in a house like this.

There was a slight clink as she placed the tray on the table and put the cup on the plate, ,,I have prepared peppermint tea I hope it agrees with you" she told him and placed the plate with the steaming tea on the smaller coffee table where an armchair stood in which he had been reading something only minutes before.

He had gone to the effort of getting up for her, but still did not sit down and his eyes remained fixed on her ,,Everything you prepare pleases me” he said and looked at the cup happily, ,,You are too kind” she said trying to hide the grin and the warmth on her cheeks so she hurried to get the fire going again.

The charcoal was still smouldering a little, but some more wood was still in the metal display, so she didn't have to go back to the cellar to fetch or chop new wood. ,,The fire will be on soon" shesaid in the silence, using her apron to help her, grabbed a few pieces of coal to spread them over the embers.

A job she had done so many times but the feeling that he was still looking at her, at her kneeling form, ,,I have all the time in the world, don't hurry or worry" he only replied and she heard the click as he finally took a sip of the tea, which he commented on with a sigh of pleasure.

A sound that made her stop looking behind him for fear she would lose herself in his eyes that were still on her when the coals finally heated up and she could put a few logs on them.

The heat gradually fed on the wood and the first small flames could be seen turning round and round and a ,,The fire will start again at any moment Friedrich, do you need anything else?" escaped her as she saw him hold out his hand to her, not knowing what he wanted, and took a step towards him thinking he would finally treat her like any other of the maids.

To finally put an end to her hope and hopeless love without playing with her feelings, but he had a smile for her, ,,You've become dirty because of me, forgive me," he said, reaching his hand out for hers.

She wanted to pull away, not wanting to stain him with the coal and afraid that he was playing with all her feelings, ,,Please...Friedrich, you shouldn't care," she tried again and paused as he took a cloth from his jacket, his amused smile unbroken, and wiped gently her hand with it, the coal gradually disappearing from her.

He shouldn't have cared and yet he seemed to, ,,We are free people, who I help is my business, especially when it's such a beautiful woman like you" his answer made her blush again, she couldn't cover her shame and tried to avoid his gaze.

His words pulled at her even more as she tried to resist less and less, not when her heart had been longing for him for so long.

Yet by then he had already put his hand under her chin, gently directing her to look at him, a face touched with love, looks of hope and affection, ,,Free...maybe out there...but not here" she made one last attempt to tell him it was wrong.

That the feelings between a maid and her employer weren't right, not in this company, but he just shook his head with a grin, ,,No one's watching but you and me," he said the last as he came closer to her and she felt his lips on hers.

His hands finally touched hers, his warmth and the scent she liked so much after the lake seemed to surround them, an intimate kiss, a kiss of lust and devotion as the fire ignited between them.

She held onto him as his fingers travelled down her side, only the fabric seemed to separate them, but his grip was a comforting hold that she wished she could never part with again.

He drew her to him, his devotion, his hunger, his attraction to her was also reciprocated by her, it wasn't a dream she had been dreaming for the last few months, it was reality.

A reality in which Friedrich Hardin felt something for her, in which love had found a way to be reciprocated even in this desolation and the kiss was the proof for them both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lady-jane3 , @luhvbot , @juliemarauderfan , @coralcrusadetale , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @writing-imagines , @fadingbatmuffindonkey , @g0lden-sky

#nosferatu 2024 #nosferatu #friedrich harding #friedrich harding x reader #nosferatu friedrich harding #male x female #reader is female #no use of y/n #aaron taylor johnson

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vitalverstappen · 8 hours ago

Text

The Bolter - L. Norris

summary: as she was leaving, it felt like breathing

pairing: Lando Norris x heiress! situationship! reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, allusions to sex, angst, pining

word count: 5k

masterlist

the tortured drivers department masterlist

Sponsorship events were never your thing. It was a bunch of frumpy old business men with race car drivers glued to their hips, begging for money. Not exactly your ideal Friday night. But unfortunately, having the Hilton name attached to you, you were forced to attend a few every year.

You never did the negotiations - that was all your father. Your job was to simply be the pretty face needed to help sweeten the deal in the company's favor. The idea of smiling and nodding through endless small talk wasn’t your idea of a good time, but it was worth it for the unlimited free stays, free room service, and much more.

Tonight’s event was hosted by Hilton, an invitation to show off why the company was the best in the business, and why drivers should want to be sponsored by them. With McLaren being based in England, it was only fitting that the event was held at the Waldorf Hilton in London.

You didn’t want to be there, but it was a necessary evil. The Hilton name had been intertwined with McLaren for years, and you were expected to show up and play your part. As you made your way through the crowd, glancing around for your father, you could tell it was going to be a long night.

Snippets of conversations - racing deals being discussed, numbers being thrown around like they were nothing - were heard as you scanned the crowd. It was all so transactional, so hollow. But before you could find the man you were looking for, your eyes landed on another.

Lando Norris, stood near the bar, chatting animatedly with a group of people, his signature grin never wavering. He was easy to spot in the crowd, his messy mop of curly hair now styled a bit, but he still had a mischievous glint in his eye.

You weren’t sure why, but something about the way he stood there - engaged but not entirely invested - caught your attention. It was rare for someone in the racing world to have such an air of self-assurance without trying too hard. You weren’t usually the type to seek out drivers at these events; they all blended together in the same corporate PR machine.

But you felt yourself being drawn in.

“Hey Lando” you said, strolling toward him with a soft smile, your voice cutting through the chatter around you.

His head snapped around, his eyes narrowed for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “Well, if it isn’t the Hilton heiress herself” he said, his voice casual, but warm. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

You shrugged, tilting your head slightly. “I like to keep people on their toes, I guess.” you replied, glancing around the suited-up crowd. “I’m just here to make the room a bit more interesting.”

Lando chuckled, clearly amused. “I think you’ve already accomplished that. The room just got a whole lot more interesting.”

There was something in his eyes that told you he simply wasn’t making a polite compliment. He was genuinely intrigued, or at least, willing to entertain the idea of more conversation.

“Well, I guess it’s good to know I’m not the only one bored out of my mind.” you said, offering him a knowing smile. “It’s all business. But at least you get to drive the fast cars and make everyone love you. I’m just stuck shaking hands with people I’ve met a thousand times.”

“Same here, in a way” he said, leaning back slightly, his tone a little more relaxed now. “I’m usually the one doing the handshakes and smiling for the camera. I guess we both get our fair share of small talk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So I’m guessing you’re a pro now?”

Lando grinned, a playful look in his eyes. “You could say that. But I’m always up for some better conversation. You know, something a little more… real.”

His words piqued your interest. You didn’t need to be in the racing world to know that Lando was a bit of a heartthrob. The media loved him - he was approachable, funny, and charming. But it was rare to see that side of him in a space like this, surrounded by corporate faces and press agents.

The conversation between you two grew more effortless, as if the world around you had melted away. You exchanged stories about the absurdity of these events, each of you poking fun at the cliches that came with it. But as the night wore on, you noticed something - something about the way Lando looked at you, something that was more than just playful banter.

It was the kind of look that made your pulse quicken, just a little. You weren’t sure if he was just playing along, or if he was genuinely interested in you, but the chemistry was undeniable.

For a moment, you considered pushing him away - making some witty comment to keep things light - but you were curious. Curious to see how far you could take it, how much you could toy with him before he realized what you were doing.

Some people would say you had a problem, bouncing from one guy to the next, as if they were toys you could discard at your own discretion. Your best friends always poked fun at how you dated, getting them hooked, and then leaving, prompting your nickname The Bolter.

But you liked to think of it as a talent - an art, really. A talent for keeping things interesting, for keeping people on their toes, and for never getting too attached. You weren’t a stranger to flirtation, to games of wit and charm, and this was no different.

By the time the event came to a close, Lando had asked for your number. You smiled as you handed it over - just another name to add to your list. You’d let him chase you for a bit, see how far he was willing to go, but in the end, you knew how it would play out.

The next time you saw Lando, it was at a house party. Your house party. You hadn’t planned for it - you didn’t even invite him. But there he was, leaning casually against your kitchen counter, a beer in one hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he knew something you didn’t.

It wasn’t until he caught your eye from across the room that you realized he had been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to notice.

You took a slow sip of your drink, eyes narrowing slightly as you surveyed him from across the room. Your eyes stayed locked on his as he made his way across the room, stopping next to you.

“You know” he said, his voice low enough to be a private comment but loud enough to be heard over the music, “you throw a good party”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though there was an edge to it. “I didn’t expect you to be here”

Lando just shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smile still on his lips “You didn’t expect half of these people to be here. But here we are.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The house was packed - people spilled out into every corner. You hadn’t planned for it to be this big, but somehow the word had gotten out, and no one was going to say no to a Hilton party.

“You never struck me as the type to crash a party” you said, leaning up against the counter. The marble was cold against the bare skin that was peeking out under your crop top. You knew he didn’t just stumble into here.

Lando leaned in slightly, “What’s it matter to you?” His voice was playful, but you could hear the underlying challenge in it. Like he was daring you to admit that maybe you were glad to see him.

You shifted your weight, crossing your arms as you did so. “Nothing, Norris.” you teased, but your eyes still tracked him, just a little too interested.

Lando chuckled, unfazed. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to ruin your party.” His eyes scanned the crowd briefly, then returned to you, taking in all of you. “Though I’m sure I could make it more interesting”

“I’m sure you could” you said, your flirtatious tone returning to your voice. You wanted him to drag you up the stairs. You wanted him to make a mess out of you right then and there.

But you couldn’t let him. He couldn’t have that satisfaction quite yet. You couldn’t boost his ego that quickly. He had to put in a little bit more work than crash your party.

Before you could respond, someone in the crowd shouted your name, and you turned away to find one of your friends weaving through the sea of people, clearly looking for you. Without a second thought, you walked towards her, leaving Lando alone in your kitchen.

Your friend wanted you to be her partner for beer pong, which to the surprise of no one, the two of you dominated. But as quickly as the two of you got to the table and played, you had left it, your focus set for your living room, which had turned into the dance floor, complete with a live DJ.

Your hips moved to the beat as the bass pulsated through you. The alcohol flowed through your system as you danced, not caring who saw you. The crowd around you blurred into the background, the flashing lights casting everything in almost a surreal glow. The DJ was pumping out track after track, each one pushed the energy higher.

Then, without warning, you felt an arm wrap around you. Turning, you came face to face with him again. His beer was replaced by a new one, and the same grin tugged at his lips.

“I wasn’t done with you. I was just getting started.” he said, his voice low and almost raspy.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you were flattered or annoyed. “What does that even mean?”

Lando’s grin only widened, and he took another step closer. “It means, darling, that I think you’ve been ignoring me for far too long.”

The simple sentences, spoken so casually, spent a spark of heat right through you. You bit your lip to keep from reacting too obviously, but the tension in the air was palatable.

“I’m not ignoring you,” you said, playing it cool, though the way your heart was racing told a different story. “You’re just not as interesting as you think you are.”

Before you could speak again, you felt his lips crash into yours. You were caught off guard at first, not expecting him to make the move then and there. Lando was intense, wanting to know all of you instantly. But as quickly as he had control, he lost it. He got lost in you, allowing for you to take over.

Your hands found their way to his jaw, fingers threaded through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. It was raw, and unstrained, an electrifying push and pull that left you breathless.

Lando groaned softly, his breath hitching as you took the lead, a grin playing at the corners of your lips when you felt the slight tremor in his body. He wasn’t expecting this - he was used to being in control.

But now, as your lips moved against his with increased urgency, it was clear that the tables had turned. His hands, once firm on your waist, now roamed relentlessly, as if trying to regain some semblance of power. You could feel the struggle within him, the way he fought to take control again, but you weren’t having it.

You pushed him back slightly, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch your breath. His eyes were darker now, full of desire and a flicker of challenge. “Can’t handle it?” he asked, a smirk forming on his lips

“If that’s what you want to think” you replied before you disappeared back into the crowd of people that managed to fit into your house, leaving Lando with the remnants of your smudged lipstick on his face.

You saw Lando again a few weeks later, but this time in a nightclub out in Singapore. The lights flashed in sync with the beat, the bass reverberated in your chest as you moved through the crowded dance floor. It was a completely different scene from the house party, yet Lando still managed to find his way to you.

The two of you had been texting off and on, but not nearly enough for you to expect him to know where you were. But there he was, surrounded by a few other drivers that you couldn’t name, the same uber confident smirk on his lips.

But the moment you caught his eyes, the smirk faltered for a moment, briefly being replaced by furrowed brows. The smirk returned instantly, but you definitely caught the slip.

Lando didn’t waste a second as he cut through the sea of people effortlessly. The moment he reached you, the noise of the nightclub seemed to fade, the beat of the music thumping in the background as everything else fell away. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him.

“We must stop meeting like this.” you teased, shaking your head slightly

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Lando asked, his smirk ever wavering as he leaned in slightly. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna leave a charming woman like you alone and helpless.”

You raised an eyebrow, the teasing tone lingered in your voice as you took a sip from your drink. “You’re really starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

Lando chuckled, that glint of mischief never left his eyes. “You have no idea.” He glanced over your shoulder, seemingly scanning the crowd before focusing back on you. “What are you doing in Singapore anyway?”

You tilted your head, pondering his question, “A bit of fun, a bit of escape.” you said, messing with the straw in your drink. “And you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a step closer to you. “Just work. Wrapped up the weekend yesterday, but we all wanted to stay a few extra days.” he explained “Can’t say I expected to run into you here though.”

You smirked, watching him carefully. “Right, you were just hoping for it.”

His grin widened at your boldness, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Maybe. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit, I’ve been trying to figure out how long it would take for us to cross paths again.”

As you took in his confession, the smirk on your lips widened. You had him right where you wanted him. Lando’s confidence, the way he seemed so sure of himself, was usually enough to keep people on edge, but right now, just like it had back at your house, only fueled your amusement. He was enamored by you, drunk on not only the liquid in his cup, but on you.

Your arms crossed over your chest, careful not to spill the drink in your hands. “Well you certainly have a knack for finding me, don’t you?”

Lando’s gaze softened for a moment, the playful smirk fading into something more genuine. “Guess I know where to look.”

Before you could respond, he offered a hand. “Finish your drink, let’s get out of here.” he insisted

You glanced at the drink before looking back at the Brit in front of you. You knew what he wanted, and honestly, you wanted it too. So, you poured the liquid down your throat, ignoring the burn that came with it, and took his hand out into the streets of Singapore.

Lando expected to wake up with you, the two of you tangled in sheets and memories from the night before. After all, that’s how it happened when he stayed the night at your place a mere few weeks ago.

But his eyes snapped open to the sound of the slam of a door. He shot up, the bed empty, but sheets still warm next to him.

His heart sank for a moment, confusion mingled with a twinge of disappointment. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the music still echoing in his mind.

The floor was cold under his bare feet as he stood and walked around the cramped hotel room, looking for any trace of you. But there was nothing. Your clothes had been picked up off the floor, and the McLaren t-shirt he had given you to sleep in was nowhere to be found.

“Fucking whore.” he muttered as he realized what you had done.

And that’s how it went for the next few months. The two of you would somehow run into each other, leaving with him as the night ended, only to leave his place before the sun rose in the morning. And no matter what Lando said under his breath about you when he woke to an empty bed, you knew he’d always be coming back for more.

The first time you saw Lando and neither of you took the other home was in New York.

You were there for work, or at least be the Hilton family representative at all of their executive meetings, as your father was busy doing the same out in London. In between the long, boring meetings, you found yourself tapping through social media, ultimately ending up on Lando’s Instagram story.

The photo was of Lady Liberty, with the simple location tag carelessly slapped on it. Based on the angle, you could tell it was taken on the New York side of the bay, most likely from Battery Park.

You don’t know what came over you, but you opened your text messages, and typed in Lando’s name. You stared at your phone for a moment, unsure of what you were doing. It had been a while since you last saw Lando, and while you had been fine with keeping it that way, now that you two were in the same city, the urge to see him again crept in.

You quickly typed out a message, second guessing yourself with every word.

You: you’re in town? How long?

You pressed send before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger hovered over the screen as you waited for a reply. You didn’t expect an immediate response, but a part of you was eager to hear from him, to see if he’d bite.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen, a smirk playing on your lips as you read his response.

Lando: til friday. Might need a tour guide for the rest of the week.

You paused, considering your options. It was the last day full of meetings, and you had no places to be until next week, giving you plenty of time to show Lando around the vast city. But did you actually want to.

You: send me your hotel address. I’ll pick you up at 11am tomorrow

You weren’t surprised to find that he was staying at the Hilton in Midtown, thankfully only a few blocks away from Central Park - taking a taxi or the subway with a famous athlete never ended well.

When you arrived at the hotel, you spotted Lando standing in front of the revolving doors, looking very much like himself in a hoodie and sunglasses, his usual smirk plastered on his face. The second he saw you, the same cocky grin appeared.

“You actually showed up.” he teased, arching an eyebrow as you approached

You rolled your eyes, but a smile formed on your lips. “I’m not that unpredictable”

Lando raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I beg to differ”

“Whatever” you mumbled

You led Lando through the bustling streets of the city. This place was a part of you, you knew it like the back of your hand. As you walked, you pointed out the places in the city that you held a little closer to your heart, the little corners of the city that tourists passed by with no thought.

“So this place,” you said, pointing to a hole in the wall Japanese restaurant, “serves the best ramen, and they’re open incredibly late. It’s a perfect spot or dinner or after a night out”

Lando glanced over at the restaurant, eyeing the neon sign above the door. “I guess I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

You continued down the streets, pointing out the bodega you go to religiously to cure your hangovers, and the coffee shop you stop at when you need a pick me up before meetings.

Eventually, the two of you found your way to Central Park, specifically to the boathouse. After paying to rent a boat, you made your way down to the shore.

“A rowboat?” Lando asked skeptically

You smirked as you handed him an oar, leaning back against the edge of the boat with a casual air. “What, you’re afraid of a little manual labor?”

Lando shook his head before taking the oar in his hands. “I just wasn’t expecting something so calm from you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, settling into the boat and adjusting your own oar. “There’s more to me than you know” you said, your tone playful.

The sounds of the bustling city faded away as you rowed out to the middle of the lake, leaving you, Lando, and your thoughts. Conversation with him wasn’t the worst, but as you spent more time with him, you could see the water in the floorboards start to trickle in.

You had no problem with Lando’s confidence - it was the thing that drew you in in the first place - but it had a tendency to tip into arrogance, and that was something you didn’t tolerate. Maybe it was because you weren’t a stranger to that kind of behavior. You’d been surrounded by it your whole life. Whether it was your father’s business dealings, or the people who ran in your circle, self-assurance often crossed the line into entitlement.

And so, instead of taking him to that Japanese place you had mentioned earlier, you walked him back to his hotel. You stopped in front of the doors you had met at hours earlier, and Lando faced you, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

“Well,” he began, his grin reappearing. “I guess this is where I leave you.”

You nodded, taking a step back as you gave him a small smile. “Guess so. You don’t need a tour guide anymore.”

Lando chuckled, the light sound of it echoed in the space between you. “Maybe not. But you’re not as bad as I thought.”

Ouch.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you asked, masking your hurt with amusement.

“Maybe,” Lando said with a shrug, his voice much lighter than yours. “But I’m still figuring you out.”

You met his gaze, steady and unflinching. He was never going to figure you out. “Good luck with that.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, you almost expected him to say something more, something that would tip the scale between this complicated, almost-friendship and whatever else had been simmering under the surface. But he didn’t.

Instead, Lando flashed that trademark grin. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

You nodded, your own smirk playing on your lips. “Maybe. Take care, Lando.”

With that, you turned and walked away, not looking back as you heard him call out your name once more. The door to the hotel clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself standing on the sidewalk, the sounds of the city closing in once more.

The last time you ever saw Lando was in Las Vegas.

It had been a few months since New York, and in the time between, you hadn’t spoken much. Sure, there were a few messages here and there, the occasional “how are you” or drunk “wish you were here” texts, but nothing meaningful. You kept yourself occupied with the next guy you had chosen, some up-and-coming actor no one really knew the name of.

You were in Vegas for a friend’s birthday, and your group had been bouncing from casino to casino letting your money and the night run wild.

It was late when you saw him - at a bar on the Strip, a neon-lit, smoke-saturated lounge tucked away in the back of a casino. The crowd was loud, music pounding through the floor, but Lando was easy to spot. Even in the haze of the flashing lights, his smirk was unmistakable. He was leaning against the bar, surrounded by a few faces from Formula 1 that you still couldn’t name if you tried.

When he saw you, the world around you seemed to pause for a second. His eyes found yours, a flicker of recognition flashing before that stupid fucking smirk retured, like he had been expecting you the whole time.

Though, as easy as it was to meet his eyes, it was easier to tear your gaze away from them.

You looked away quickly, engulfing yourself back into the conversation you were having with your friends about the worst name to give a child. Even though your back was turned to him, you could feel his eyes still on you, piercing through you like daggers.

Your friend made some remark that made your laugh, but it felt hollow. You could sense him closing the distance between you, even though the crowd still swirled around you like an endless blur.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice broke through

You didn’t need to turn to know it was him. You’d recognize that cocky tone anywhere. Slowly, you glanced over your shoulder, just enough to meet his gaze without letting the full weight of his presence hit you all at once.

His smirk softened just a fraction when your eyes locked. “Thought you were avoiding me” he added, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

You forced a shrug, turning back to your friends. “I’m just here with some friends.”

Lando didn’t move. You could feel his eyes lingering on the back of your neck, the weight of them familiar, too familiar. It was almost suffocating, the way he managed to make you feel like the only person in the room, even in the midst of a crowd that seemed to pulse with life.

“Right,” he drawled, the mischievous smile never quite leaving his face. “Just here for the party, huh?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you tried to focus back on your group. They were still talking, but your mind was clearly somewhere else. You could feel the tension between you building, thick and unspoken, and it was making you restless.

“Look,” you said, finally turning to face him fully. “It’s been a while, alright? I’m just not in the mood for all… this.” You waved a hand in his general direction.

Lando’s smirk flickered for a second, but he didn’t seem bothered. If anything, he seemed to find your discomfort amusing, which only made the knot in your chest tighten. He was putty in your hand, but he wasn’t something you wanted to play with anymore. The need to have you in his arms made you nauseous.

“I get it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more subdued. “But you’re still not gonna pretend like we don’t have unfinished business, are you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his words. “There’s nothing unfinished between us, Lando.”

For a second, the playful air between you two dropped, replaced by something heavier. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in just a fraction. When he finally decided what to say, his voice lowered, as if you two were the only ones in the room.

“Is that so?” he said, the question hanging in the air, sharp and loaded.

You weren’t going to do this. Not here, in the middle of the bar. So, you grabbed his hand, and dragged him to a hallway away from the noise and the lights. When you got to the hallway, Lando’s smirk returned, expecting you to make a move now.

“You don’t get to decide what’s unfinished” you spoke instead, trying to keep your voice firm.

“But what if I think we do?” he asked, his tone now tinged with something more sincere. It was subtle, but you could hear it. A hint of something almost vulnerable. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t forgotten what happened between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you began, keeping your eyes locked on his. “I’ve moved on. I’m not… whatever that was. I had a fun few months, but that’s all it was, just a few months.” you admitted, the words felt a weight being lifted as they came out of your mouth.

You watched as Lando’s face dropped, for the first time in a while, the smirk that was usually on his lips was nowhere to be found. The silence between you two was overwhelming as he took in your words. You almost walked out then and there, needing to be taken away by the alcohol and music around the corner, but your feet wouldn’t budge.

“You really believe that?” he asked softly, his voice almost disbelieving, the cocky bravado slipping further away. “You think we were just… a few months?”

You swallowed hard, your heart beating a little faster, but you held firm. It was never easy to let go of them. No matter how many times you bolted, it was still hard to say goodbye. But you knew that the feeling of fresh air and freedom outweighed the suffocation of staying.

“Yeah” you said, the words coming out with more conviction than you felt. “I do.”

And with that, you picked your feet up, and walked away. You let the smoke and neon lights greet you like an old friend as you returned to the bar, your friends still in the same place as where you left them.

“I have the best story for you guys” you said, excitement filled your voice as you returned to the group.

“Is it another one about a boy?” one of your friends teased

“Maybe…”

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tojisth3rdwife · 23 hours ago

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JJK men as content creators

Toji: very unserious fitness vlogger/foodie

Toji was no stranger to exploitation for financial gain. Nor did he have any shame over it. The idea to start making content stemmed from people approaching him in the gym for advice after seeing his impressive physique.

He wasn't much of a talker, although his dry sense of humor became his trademark along with his abs, so the majority of Toji’s content consisted of workout and nutrition advice. None of it he recommended anyone do since he wasn't a professional, stating that if it didn't work for you, don't go blaming him for it. One of his most popular segments was when he went to different restaurants in the area for food reviews on his cheat days. When owners noticed how a position review from him brought in a lot of business, they stopped charging him meals if he ever returned. And we all know how much Toji loved that.

"Alright, listen up. You want results? It’s not about fancy machines or trendy diets. It’s about putting in the work and pushing your limits. No shortcuts. Just grit and grind. Today, we’re hitting those weights hard and showing those excuses the door. Let’s get it."

Nanami : cooking/ASMR

Upon first impressions, one would think Kento wasn't the type of person who uses social media. He had Facebook like most millennials and has an Instagram but barely uses it. He wasn't the type to share his life with the world in that way and found the concept too invasive and troublesome for him to be bothered with. “What the point of telling strangers what I'm doing? I have no interest in what anyone else does.” he’d say.

But one day after allowing one of the teachers at Jujutsu High to try one of his homemade baked creations, it was suggested that he had his cooking show. Noting that he has the wholesome ‘husband/boyfriend’ aesthetic going for him, as well as a voice that sounded like a hug from behind after a long day at work. Kento started his channel slowly walking viewers through his favorite recipes , as well as some new ones he’d been meaning to try, while speaking gently into a highly sensitive mic that added an ASMR element to every video.

He doesn't show his face, feeling the anonymity made him most comfortable to be himself, but the way his audience swooned over the fixed view of him in his button-up and apron with the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms, or his deft hands/fingers as he used a knife or kneaded dough.

Kento earned himself a whopping 400k subscribers in less than a year.

"Welcome back, everyone. Today, we're going to create something simple yet satisfying. Just listen to the gentle sound of the flour as it sifts through my fingers... The perfect blend of precision and comfort. Let’s start our journey into baking together, one soft whisper at a time."

Geto - podcast bro , the toxic kind

We all know with the global pandemic came the need for creative streams of income. Especially via social media. With somewhat of a platform of his own, being a cult leader and all, Suguru was approached by his daughters with the idea to reach more people by starting a podcast. Skeptical at first, Geto wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of getting in front of a camera just to talk for an hour.

But with his dashing good looks, easygoing personality, and controversial views, it was no surprise that he amassed such a fanbase overnight. His show consisted of him tackling hard subjects, discussing world news, and hot topics, reading fan mail, and offering his candor, as well as having the occasional guest that may or may not know what they got themselves into.

"Welcome back to the show, everyone. Today, we’re diving deep into the topics no one wants to touch..the uncomfortable truths and the gray areas that challenge our perceptions. Let’s be real: society loves to paint everything in black and white, but the reality is far more complex. So, buckle up as we unpack some hard-hitting ideas that might just make you rethink everything. And remember, if you can’t handle the heat, youre probably a monkey."

Gojo- vlogger, travel, fashion, aesthetic, hauls.

Being someone who comes from money, old money at that, Satoru has access to more cash than he knows what to do with. So it's no surprise that outside of work( and sometimes for work), he spends his days traveling and shopping.

Vlogging came easily for him since he enjoyed talking about himself so much anyway, and with an audience so invested in his daily life, Satoru recorded everything. Him waking up. His skin/hair routine. What he ate in a day. Going on missions. Comedic skits with some of the first years who would participate. Travel vlogs and clothing hauls. There was a little bit of something for everyone on his page.

“Whats good my faves, its ya boy Satoru..back at again with another clothing haul. Im fresh off the plane from when I was Paris for fashion week, link to that vlog in the top right hand corner, and man am I jet lagged. But I wanted to show you all what I brought back while I have the time..”

Megumi- gamer/streamer on twitch.

After a talk with Gojo about him needing to find things to do outside of trying to advance as a sorcerer, Megumi picked up video games as a hobby. He was gifted a gaming PC and a PS5 by his mentor and began playing to blow off some steam after training. When he was injured after a mission, Megumi had not much else to do. Yuji was the one who suggested he stream on Twitch after watching him beat an entire game that took most people days in one night, praising him on his skills and suggesting letting others watch him play too.

After a while, his obsessive need to be good at everything he tries turned into him becoming one of the top-watched gamers. His dry personality and snide comments made for entertaining dialogue during game play and he often would give his critique on the game once he’d beaten them. He’d even get chances to be a beta player for unreleased game demos.

“The graphics were ok. Combat mode is a little glitchy but overall it’s a decent game. If this is just the demo, I’m interested in what they’ll do for the full game release. Otherwise I gave it a 7 out of 10.”

Sukuna- reactions

This started as a joke when his nephew wanted him to react to some viral trend and while the king of curses was rarely impressed, his archaic way of expressing himself was what made people most interested in his opinions.

Sukuna began a series of reactions where he sat upon his throne, gazing at the camera with all four eyes blazing with contempt and boredom as he watched viewer recommendations. Those ‘try not to laugh’ challenges were his most viewed.

If something managed to make him smirk or even chuckle, he gave it 4 thumbs up and would congratulate the OP for their talents in entertainment. Majority of his audience was comprised of women between the ages of 25 and 40. He acts like he has no clue why.

"This is, without a doubt, the most extravagant display of foolishness I've ever witnessed in my life. Yet, I recognize that many humans find cats charming and entertaining, so I suppose this video could be seen that way. Regardless, it's utterly pathetic. On to the next video..."

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songbirdseung · 20 hours ago

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new year, same love / lee heeseung

going into 2025 with the man you have pined over for years now. hoping this year you won't have to admire him from afar no more.

there he goes again, strolling through the college hallways with his friends, laughing and talking about who knows what. all you know is that he looks effortlessly good while doing it. lee heeseung was gorgeous, so much so that you often wondered how someone could look better than most people you’ve seen in movies, let alone in real life. the way he carried himself—confident, assured, like he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted—made him impossible to ignore.

heeseung wasn’t just a pretty face; he was ambitious and determined, a man who knew how to chase after his goals without hesitation. but somehow, even with that drive, he managed to maintain a charm that made everyone gravitate toward him.

and you? you fell for him the moment you saw him during freshman year. back then, you thought it was just a harmless crush—something fleeting that you could brush off. but that illusion shattered the second he walked into your first class, sat beside you, and offered you the warmest smile.

"hi, i'm heeseung."

his voice was smooth, almost too comforting. you never thought you’d find someone’s voice so attractive, yet here you were, completely entranced by it.

over the next three years, you silently admired him from afar, never daring to cross the boundary of casual greetings or academic discussions. you convinced yourself there was no point. someone like heeseung, so confident and accomplished, wouldn’t look twice at someone like you—or so your insecurities told you.

but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances whenever he was in the same room or secretly melting every time he casually greeted you in passing. your friends, however, weren’t as content with your one-sided pining.

yeji and winter, your two best friends and self-proclaimed "love-life saviors," had been listening to your endless praises about heeseung for years. they were your biggest cheerleaders, hyping you up to approach him. but lately, they’d grown tired of your hesitation and decided to take matters into their own hands.

with senior year coming to an end, they knew time was running out. their plan? a harmless little scheme to push fate along—a small prank that would get you and heeseung stuck in the same room together.

the day of their so-called intervention began innocently enough. you were in the library, buried in research for your final project when yeji plopped into the chair across from you, her grin a little too wide to be genuine.

"hey, yn," she said, voice sweet but suspiciously scheming. "did you hear about the study rooms on the third floor? they just added soundproofing. perfect for concentration."

"uh, no," you replied absentmindedly, still typing away. "why?"

"oh, nothing. i just booked one for you. figured you'd need some peace and quiet."

you glanced up, suspicious. "since when are you so considerate?"

winter appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seat next to yeji. "stop questioning and just go, yn. you'll thank us later."

reluctantly, you gathered your things and headed upstairs. the moment you entered the room, you froze.

there, sitting at the table, was lee heeseung.

"oh," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

he looked up from his laptop, surprise flickering across his features before he smiled. "hey, yn. didn’t expect to see you here."

your brain scrambled for a coherent response. "uh, yeah... same. must be a mix-up."

you turned to leave, but the door clicked shut behind you. you tried the handle. locked.

your heart sank as realization hit: yeji and winter had set you up.

"everything okay?" heeseung asked, standing up and walking toward you.

"uh, yeah, just... locked in," you said, forcing a laugh. "probably some glitch."

he chuckled, his voice warm. "guess we’re stuck then. might as well make the most of it."

he gestured to the chairs, and you hesitantly sat down, your pulse racing.

"so," he said, leaning forward with that signature confidence, "tell me about you. we’ve had so many classes together, but i feel like i barely know anything about you."

the casual question caught you off guard, but his genuine interest disarmed you. slowly, you began to talk, sharing snippets of your life, your interests, and even your favorite coffee spot on campus.

to your surprise, heeseung listened intently, asking questions and laughing at your stories. the initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by an unexpected ease.

an hour passed before you even realized it, and when the door finally unlocked (thanks to yeji's "mysterious" intervention), you almost felt disappointed.

"guess we're free now," he said, standing up and grabbing his bag.

"yeah," you murmured, feeling a strange mix of relief and longing.

he paused by the door, glancing back at you with a small smile. "you know, this was actually fun. we should do it again sometime—minus the locking part."

your eyes widened. "oh, uh, yeah. sure."

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

yeji and winter were definitely going to pay for this—but maybe, just maybe, you’d thank them later.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enhypen lee heeseung #heeseung enha #heeseung imagines #heeseung lee #heeseung x reader

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melodyanqel · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (001. brighter days)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: mention of depression and trauma

⤷ wc: 2.4k words

⤷ note: the story begins in pre-s2 and im excited when the real action happens

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet

❰ 2024, SOUTH KOREA. ❱

Truthfully, Jun-ho and Lily weren’t expecting to have a serious relationship for many reasons.

One is that they live in different countries. Another big one is their age gap. Sure, they’re both adults and eight years apart but the public will see them as brother and sister. Some would also believe they’re uncle and niece. It could be their appearances and personalities.

Jun-ho is more mature, stern, and brave, yet has goodwill.

Lily is so full of life, sometimes shy, and intelligent, but she can be childish.

Nevertheless, the string between the couple couldn’t break. Jun-ho and Lily are inseparable. Even though it wasn’t easy, they found ways to balance out the relationship.

Indeed, Lily had to confess to her family that she wasn’t lying about being in a long-distance relationship. She loved her family and everything they did, but she was afraid they would think it was all foolish, and dating someone continents away from her was absurd. One day, Jun-ho had to commit. He flew to America to be with Lily and introduce himself to her relatives.

But then it gets more complicated.

Jun-ho and Lily must choose which country to stay together even if they’re willing to take their relationship further. So, after discussing it for a while, Lily wanted to live in Korea. It was a bittersweet decision, but her family had never seen her so happy and head over heels for someone. Her parents and older sister may be miles apart but she thinks about them daily.

The daylight comes as such intricately woven threads of gold.

It’s morning and that means it’s a new day. Inside a studio apartment, Lily makes herself something to eat while relaxing music plays in the background. She sips her matcha latte and reads the pink calendar on the wall by the cabinets.

September 13. Today is Jun-ho’s birthday.

After eating her breakfast pancakes, Lily has to go to work. Most people can agree that no one wants to show up at their job that they don’t enjoy. However, Lily likes being an elementary teacher at a wonderful school. She is excellent with kids. It could just be her sister has a son who is growing up so fast and she babysits him when she used to live in America. But Lily is passionate about shaping young minds and creating a foundation for lifelong learning.

Not to mention, Lily is the kids’ favorite teacher. They love having her around and find her teaching fun. Plus, Lily has gotten better in Korean. She still has her accent and it's a bit choppy when she speaks but can read, write, and understand the language.

In her bedroom, she picks out an outfit. Since it’s summer, she’ll wear something casual and formal. The young woman takes out a long white dress with pink flowers, a lightweight cardigan, and sandals. She added small bow clips to her hair.

Lily sometimes wishes she was taller because she is short—five feet and one inch but has the brightest energy. Of course, Jun-ho opposes it. He finds it adorable how she goes on her tippy-toes to dig her face into his chest.

She then leaves and goes to the subway station. The school is in Ssangmun-dong which is quite far from her apartment, but she likes that it is close to Jun-ho’s workplace. Lily would wait for him outside the police station and go home together. Even though they’ve been dating for two years, they don’t share a space.

Most couples would do it if it’s more than one year into their relationship, but Lily insists she stay in the studio apartment because it’s affordable. When she first moved to South Korea, Lily once lived with Mrs. Hwang and Jun-ho. Mrs. Hwang adores her almost like a child of her own. She was super glad her youngest child was proud to be with someone like Lily.

It’s ordinary for the subway station to be hectic. Lily has the patience but won’t be nice if something or someone ticks her off. She is seen as sweet and kind, but no one should get on her bad side.

After getting her ticket at the fare, Lily waits for her transportation. While she waits, she takes out her phone to text back her family. The time zone is different but it doesn’t mean she can’t stay in touch with her loved ones. Her parents and sister would send short and sweet messages as motivation.

But what’s upsetting is that she hardly visits America.

Lily would get homesick and wonder if she’d see her family more. Call it absurd for her to move out of the country, but Lily hopes to have enough money to let them travel to South Korea.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“Good morning, class! Today, we’ll be doing a lot of fun activities, but the best one of them all is art.”

In unison, the boys and girls cheered happily because they loved to do art. Even though the kids aren’t professional artists, Lily is amazed by their creativity.

“We’ll be doing art as our last thing of the day. First, we continue with our spelling, addition, and subtraction. I also expect everyone to be on their best behavior. Understand, class?” Lily finished her instructions.

“Yes, Ms. Lily!” They complied as wonderful listeners.

When she first dated Jun-ho, she told him she wanted to teach kids and help them grow with strong minds and great hearts. He was impressed. Jun-ho also wanted to help society by protecting and saving the innocent, and locking up the bad guys. His brother, In-ho, inspired him because he was a police officer and taught him to see the different points of view in the world.

Subsequently, it’s lunchtime.

Lily and her friend, Park Soeun, whom she has known for two years, are having a break together in the garden.

“You seemed like you’re in a good mood.” Soeun noticed Lily was happier than usual. She instantly knows what's up whenever her friend acts differently. The American woman munches on her kimbap. She replies, “What do you mean? I'm still the same." A chuckle lets out of her lips. However, Soeun raises an eyebrow. Lily rolls her eyes with a smile because her friend is always in her business, which she doesn't mind.

"It's Jun-ho birthday and we'll be throwing a small party at my place after work. I baked a cake, prepared decorations, and a gift.” Lily tells Soeun about the celebration. She sometimes wonders if her friend ever gets tired of her talking about Jun-ho. But Soeun is a lovely woman—optimistic, caring, level-headed, beautiful, and has no filter.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” She claps her hands which makes Lily smile. Then she says, “You know, I still can’t get over how you found someone so damn hot like Jun-ho.” Soeun would be called a liar if she didn’t find Jun-ho attractive. Lily giggles blithely. “I’m the female lead of a K-drama.” She humored and they both laughed in content.

Soeun clears her throat before responding. “I hope you both have a nice day together. I can tell you two are meant for each other.” She gives Lily a dose of generosity. A fun fact about her and Jun-ho is that they went to the same college but never knew each other. Now, they are friends. Lily nodded, “Thank you so much.” She’ll always be thankful for everyone’s cordiality.

Soeun opens her arms, “Come on. I know you need it.” She said.

Lily snickers, “I know I do.” and accepts the hug.

When lunchtime is over and the hours pass, it's close to the end of the day. Lily did promise her students about doing art as the last activity. The classroom is full of joy and excitement. Some of her students are wearing aprons to prevent the paint from staining their clothes and some are coloring away with markers, colored pencils, and crayons. She walks from table to table to see they’re all having fun.

“Ms. Lily! I made something for you!”

One of her students approaches to give her a drawing. The student’s name is Boyoung and she is the cutest and excellent learner. Lily turns around to see the little girl’s artwork. Her doe eyes widen. “Oh my goodness! It’s beautiful! Thank you, Boyoung!” She appreciates her and takes the paper.

Boyoung drew Jun-ho and Lily as a royal prince and a princess. She even wrote their names to show who is who.

The little girl sends a toothy smile. “You’re welcome! I hope Jun-ho samchon will like it.” Jun-ho had come by to the school whenever he was not on duty. The kids immediately love him because he seems like a hero in their eyes and is gentle with them.

Lily bends down to Boyoung’s level. “He will love it. This is incredible.” She assured the talented child. It’s also a perfect birthday gift.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

Evening graces the sky once more with its ambient deep hues.

Lily is cleaning up the room so she can clock out. The day was a success. Everyone behaved, followed directions, and cooperated. But most importantly, they had fun. While organizing the colored pencils, her phone rang at her desk. Lily stopped to see who was calling her. She goes over and checks it. Her pinky lips etched a smile. Mrs. Hwang is calling.

She picks it up. “Hello, omonim (mother). How are you?” The pleasant voice of the incredible woman who welcomed Lily into her life without hesitation.

Mrs. Hwang answers, “I’m doing good, dear. I called you because I made dinner for you and Jun-ho to eat and you can pick it up at the house. I don't want to interfere with your guys' moment together."

Lily can feel her spirit has been uplifted.

“Thank you, omonim. Jun-ho and I will be there soon. Also, your presence makes us happy.” Mrs. Hwang is a wonderful woman. Lily will never stop appreciating her.

"You're welcome. When you reach my age, you'll be surprised how good it feels about not having to do extra dishes and purchasing more food." She raised two boys in most of her youth as a single mother. So, she knows when it's time to let them do their own things.

Lily chuckles because Mrs. Hwang once told her stories about how living with boys every day was a challenge. "But still. Jun-ho will always need you, even when he is a grown man." She reminds the older woman. A mother's love is a deep, unconditional, and unwavering love that a mother has for her child.

Mrs. Hwang says, "Yes, indeed. Well, enjoy your night, dear. Bye-bye." She bids goodbye to Lily. After the call, the young teacher continues to tidy up the classroom and turn off the lights.

Despite the hot summer air in the daytime, the night brings a comforting breeze. All you need to do is soak in the weather.

Lily can never have enough with the city lights of Seoul. She sometimes can’t believe she lives in this country. But her homeland is just as gorgeous.

Ssangmun-dong Police Department.

Lily waits outside of the building for Jun-ho to change out his uniform. He was once a detective and is now a traffic officer because he figures he is better at controlling road safety and not catching criminals. That’s what Jun-ho reasoned.

In honesty, Lily didn’t mind him stepping down as a detective. He once told her it was best for his mental and physical health. Lily may not know what it’s like to be in Jun-ho's shoes when he was a detective but she’ll support any decision he makes. Also, from Lily’s perspective, and possibly others would agree, Jun-ho’s strong-willed yet kind personality is super attractive. He is the man of her dreams.

“My love, are you ready?”

The soothing, baritone voice erupts the silence. Lily turns her head to see Jun-ho in casual clothes. His raven hair has grown out and looks more shaggy yet fluffier. Lily sometimes hopes he’ll leave it that way. She replies to her lover. “Yes! But first, we have to go to your omonim’s. She made us dinner and we can spend the night at my place.” Lily is stoked because she had the whole week to set up the celebration.

Jun-ho sees the elation glimmering in her chocolate brown eyes. His exhaustion has been erased because of Lily’s bright energy. Jun-ho grins, “Okay. I’m excited.” He abruptly leans close to his beautiful angel’s face. She gets astounded and immediately moves her head back with red cheeks. “Jun-ho!” Lily squeaks. She isn’t used to publicly displaying affection. Jun-ho chuckled because he was going for a kiss on the lips but he pecked her forehead instead.

His gentle touch still makes Lily go crazy. Well, Jun-ho alone makes her go crazy.

The lovers intertwine hands, head into the car, and drive through the city.

“Hey, what did you prepare?” Jun-ho asked. He is curious because Lily is great at surprises. She shakes her head with a playful smile. “No! You have to wait!” She is stalling. It would annoy Jun-ho but with Lily, he’ll let it slide.

“Fine. Ms. Lily.” He obeyed in English. His gaze glances at his girl. She stared at him all timid. He enjoys teasing her and becoming a shy mess. It’s mean of him to make her flustered. But it’s enduring for someone tough and mighty.

“You’re suddenly chirpy. Is it because it’s your birthday?” Lily inquired about Jun-ho’s peculiar attitude. He isn’t usually this daring on his birthdays.

Jun-ho responded, “It could be. I had much worse days but I guess I gave enough hope and nothing happened.” He sounds blunt but is sincere. However, Lily is very understanding of his mental state.

One year into their relationship, she noticed Jun-ho wasn’t his usual self. He would wake up from nightmares which led to sleep deprivation and he had episodes. Jun-ho tried to convince Lily that he was doing fine until the people began to see the denial of being hurt on the inside.

After looking at himself in the mirror, Jun-ho attempted to smile but it automatically dropped. He did his favorite things like boxing but realized he was releasing negative emotions which made him look like he had anger issues. Jun-ho came to his senses that he wasn’t well.

He asked the two most important people in his life and they helped in a heartbeat. If only he didn’t know what his brother had become.

series masterlist | two

#squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game fic #hwang jun ho #squid game hwang jun ho #jun ho #hwang junho #squid game jun ho #jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho fic

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spookyrea · 2 days ago

Text

For Years to Come (maybe even more)

After revealing to Loki that you two are soulmates (in an admittedly less-than-ideal fashion), the two of you finally discuss your matching soulmarks.

Chapter 2 / 3 - read on AO3

A soulmate-identifying mark AU - heavy petting involved in this chapter (kinda *shrug emoji*) - epilogue will contain smut

(chapter one) -- (epilogue)

If Loki was going to avoid you, you decided that it was well within your rights to avoid him, too.

You spent the last week of December on Natasha's couch, pretending to help her knit by unwinding her skeins of yarn while watching whatever wintery drivel you could find on television. She never asked you what was wrong but you suspected that she already knew, between her super-spy attention to detail and the compromising position she had found the two of you in on Christmas Eve. There was a decidedly Loki-shaped hole in every conversation, a vacancy that she would open to you with a side-long glance. Thor and I are going to go look at the lights before they take them down, she might say. His brother will probably join, since they're attached at the hip.

You never took the bait, which she respected (if sometimes with a rolled eye). Inevitably, by virtue of there being twenty-odd people living in one designated tower, more people were folded into your menagerie of distraction, and you made it all the way to the new year without having to think about the letter burning a hole in your kitchen counter.

That wasn't to say that Loki's absence wasn't festering inside of you; you hadn't realized how large a role he played in your day-to-day until he was gone. You had been so hyper-aware of his presence every time he entered a room, and now you could only focus on the emptiness where Loki should have been. On the churning discomfort in your chest that one day he might finally enter the room and not come sauntering up to your side to try and vie for your attention. Occasionally, you would catch the low hum of his seidr in the buzz of a fluorescent light, or in the twinkling sound that preceded snowfall, and would yearn for the sweet kiss of magic against your cheek.

“You have to tell me what happened,” Wanda insisted, eventually. She laid beside you on your couch, her feet propped up at awkward angles to avoid smudging her still-wet nail polish. “Or else I’m calling Steve and then you’ll really be in for it.”

You weren't in the mood for one of his pep-talks, though, so you pulled your blanket down from your head and sighed. “Loki is my soulmate.”

That must not have been the answer she had been anticipating. You watched one foot slowly drop, then the other, and then Wanda was turning on the spot to look at you, her black-rimmed eyes blinking over at you. “You’re joking.”

“He kissed me.” It felt good to tell someone else. It made it all real, somehow. “We got into an argument because he likes me and I’m so awkward around him that I can’t look him in the eyes, and then he kissed me.”

“But you like him.”

“Yes.”

“You got in an argument because he likes you and you like him.”

“I wrote him a letter.” You scrubbed your hands over your face, trying to will the hysteria away. “It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. What a mess.”

“Was he any good?”

You laughed, watery, your eyelashes a little damp. “Yeah. Yeah, he was.”

“Okay.” There was a sincerity to her voice that was uniquely Wanda. As if she had approached the world upside-down and somehow come back with exactly the right thing to say. “Imagine if he was a bad kisser. Then he’d be nothing but a pretty face.”

“You can teach someone to be a good kisser.”

“He’s ancient. If he hasn’t learned how to kiss someone by now, it’s hopeless. And also – Loki. He would see it as a personal attack. He would kiss worse on purpose.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

The television droned in the background; two men were making intricate sugar cookies decorated to look like disco balls. They had an easy kind of camaraderie that spoke of years of work together. You watched in a companionable silence until an advertising break broke the spell. “So are you two… together now?”

“Um… no. No, I don’t think we’re going to be together.”

“You know he goes a little,” she spun a finger through the air, flashing red for extra effect, “when you’re around?”

“The seidr thing?”

“I was thinking about the ‘I'm-the-coolest-guy-in-the-room’ thing but sure, that too.”

You sighed. “Why couldn't you be my soulmate? I can talk to you.”

Wanda was a pragmatist at the end of the day. She was a little like Steve in that way -- fiercely empathetic in a practical way. “How does ‘talk to your soulmate’ sound as a resolution?”

“It sounds like a start.”

“Mine is to learn how to cross stitch.” There was a plan forming behind her eyes; she took you by the wrist and hauled the two of you off the couch before stomping off in search of her coat. “We need to go get you a new outfit.”

“We do?”

She nodded. “A dress. A pretty dress. A dress that says ’sorry I was so awkward but you’re really scary and hot and I’m only a puny mortal’.”

“You just want an excuse to go shopping.”

“I am a woman of many interests.”

You bit back a smile. Linking your fingers together, you gave her hand a long, strong squeeze and let her pick the first store on your agenda.

You were running a little late; there was a shoe malfunction, and a missing eyeliner pen, and before any of you realised it was almost ten o’clock. You took the train; in New Year’s Eve traffic, it was a tight fit – each car was full to bursting, humid and smelling of sweat and cologne – but you only had to make it three stops. You held onto the rail and Natasha, Carol and Wanda held on to you, giggling, sidled up close.

The bar Tony had rented was, mercifully, only a few feet from the subway entrance. The three of you picked your way through the snow while Natasha, ever the pinnacle of grace, somehow glided across the sidewalk in her five-inch heels.

The place was dingy in a homely kind of way. All exposed brick and wooden beams, the walls were covered in sports memorabilia and framed Playboy covers, and a net of twinkling lights was strung up along the ceiling. A low drone of chatter and jazz hung in the air, a nostalgic sound that reminded you not of winters passed, but of years from now when you would look back on this moment. Outside a snowstorm howled, blanketing the city streets in a navy haze, but for now you were warm and dry and a little lovesick.

Natasha kissed your cheek before slipping away to find Clint, who no doubt had already turned his hearing aids off and was nursing a beer in some secluded corner. Wanda clung to your elbow for support while she scanned the crowd, balanced on her tiptoes. “Do you see him?”

“No. Hey, wait–” You caught a loose bobby pin, hanging on by a thin curl, and smoothed her hair back in place. “Ok. Better. Have you found him?”

“Thanks.” She had that look in her eye, that fit-to-bursting expression she got when the whole extended family got together. It seemed the entire Avengers rota was in the room. “And yeah, there, with Thor and Steve.”

A long table – which you suspected was actually three or four pushed together, based on how haphazardly the chairs were scattered around it – sat slightly askew near the back of the bar. Your team had congregated at one end, grinning, a few clearly inebriated.

Loki was tucked away at the very opposite edge, rolling a glass between his hands. His perpetual rain cloud seemed to have given way to a veritable storm because a few of the lights overhead were sparking, glowing green around the edges. Some pretty creature hovered by his side, twirling her shiny blonde hair and batting her eyelashes.

Her neck was exposed; her mark was a stark thing made up of sharp geometric lines, and you admired how bold she was to approach him knowing she wasn’t a match. She was leaning over the back of an empty chair, tracing a neatly manicured nail down its woodgrain. Her comment had Loki smiling, rolling his eyes good naturedly, preening a little under her attention. She tilted her head toward the dancefloor; though you couldn’t see her face, the question was obvious.

“You look great,” Wanda whispered.

“Thanks. So do you.”

You watched Loki consider her offer. He enjoyed company, of course; Loki was seldom alone, even if that meant hanging around crowds who weren’t very fond of him, or that he was fond of. Maybe it was survival, or loneliness, or some combination of the two, but Loki liked to be included in the joke, even at his detriment.

Yet his eyes scanned the crowd, seeking someone else’s attention. Everything felt right when they found yours.

You took your time rounding the table, lingering by Steve and Rhodey so you could watch Loki unwind to a petulant slouch. When you reached the end, Darcy leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick a little in the process, and pushed a drink into your hand. “Happy new year!”

It was a short distance but a long walk to the empty seat next to Loki. The closer you got, the more excited his seidr seemed to grow; it whispered sweet nothings in a language you couldn't understand, crowding up against your cheek like an affectionate cat. Ushered you close so it could kiss you so tenderly while Loki looked on with cool disinterest. He waved the girl away.

“You looked lonely,” you hummed. “All the way over here.”

“My ill mood was making our colleagues’ devices malfunction.” He tsked, taking a long pull from his glass. “I’m afraid you have the same effect. On my seidr, I mean.”

“You mean it doesn’t… play with other people?”

His expression was unreadable. “What was it you said? ‘You make me nervous because I’m attracted to you’?”

“The other you didn’t seem all that nervous. Ginger-Loki.”

“You do like him better, then.” It was meant to be a joke but the mirth didn’t quite reach Loki’s eyes; he watched you a little despondently, like a man who had spent his entire life just shy of perfection.

“I told you before. I like this Loki.”

“He’s not very nice.”

Your right hand tiptoed across the table to lay over his wrist. Now was not the time to be shy. “I’m sorry about the letter.”

“I’ve been called worse in languages older than you.”

“Maybe so. I wasn’t done, though. It was supposed to say something like ‘You’re vile and–” Something about his expression made you pause; Loki’s gaze had gone far-off, fixated on the snow accumulating on the windows. “...It was supposed to be a love letter.”

He snorted. “Charming.”

“I’ve had a crush on you for forever. I could barely stand to look at you sometimes because I thought you would notice. I wanted to put everything down on paper but then I just… couldn’t.”

“So you attacked my character. Delightful.”

“Loki. Look at me.” It was his turn to avoid your eye, it seemed. You pressed on his cheek until he was looking levely into your eyes. “Have you been trying to hit on me?”

“‘Hit on’. No, I was not trying to ‘hit on’ you. I’m a prince. I was trying to woo you. Or at the very least, manufacture conversation.”

“How many times have you tried?”

“How many times have you run away, kitten?”

There was a great commotion across the bar. Steve called your name, hands planted on his hips. “Tell the kids they have a curfew.”

Peter, Ned and MJ began to complain all at once. They had commandeered one of the overhead TVs to play someone’s Nintendo Switch and were passing the controller back and forth to beat a boss. Morgan sat in Wanda’s lap, too young to understand the mechanics but eager enough to cheer on, and each of them wore a knitted cap that Natasha had made for them.

It came over you all at once. You were sure that Scott and Sam would join them in a few minutes to help beat the boss. That Clint would come by and take Morgan somewhere quieter when she started dozing off. That Bucky and Steve would pick people at random and swing them around to club music that didn't match the sock hop, just for the fun of it.

You had a soulmate but it didn’t really matter, at the end of the day. All the anxiety, the fear and loathing and stoicism -- none of it was necessary. You would pick these people no matter their marks, and they would pick you because love was an innate but fickle thing; there was no use trying to control it, only to appreciate it when it happened.

“Let them stay, Cap," you called back. "Until the crowds die down.”

Peter and Ned whooped. Steve smiled like he never intended to run them off, anyway.

Loki tugged on your shirt sleeve; how he loved to do that, to commandeer your attention. Like a dog not yet done playing fetch – look at me, he demanded. I’m starved of your affections already. His fingers threaded through yours.

“I’m not running away this time, I promise."

A single curl was snaking free from his short ponytail, falling across his forehead in a little crescent shape. He pushed it aside with your linked hands, like letting go was out of the question.

“Why are you here,” he blurted out. “If it’s pity, or some self-sacrificing sense of duty, then I would advise you to leave.”

You watched him watch you.

“I think… We’re finally on an even playing field. And I owe you another letter.”

“You could call me despicable this time. Egregiously egotistical.”

“I could call you ‘mine’.”

Loki’s seat was askew, not quite tucked under the table, and he turned sideways to face you, one arm dangling over the back. He finished his drink in one long pull, tilting his chin just high enough to strain the crisp collar of his shirt. “Do not pretend. I have to warn you, I’m well versed in wanting.”

It was perhaps the first time since you met Loki -- before even being hired, back when you were a street-level hero who got roped into conflicts too big to comprehend -- that neither one of you was trying to fill an awkward silence. Loki played with your hand, puppeting your fingers open and shut with the same meanness that one might pet a beloved cat, while you sipped on your drink. You found that you liked the silence; when neither one of you was anxiously prattling on, you seemed to get along quite nicely.

“What does, um… Ket– kettlina? What does it mean?”

His other hand threaded through the elastic in his hair and snapped it free, vanishing it elsewhere with a flick of his wrist. “Ketlinkr? It’s a diminutive.” He shrugged. “‘Little cat’.”

Magic hummed – maybe his, or maybe the inherent magic of love – in the air, kissing your cheek so sweetly. Loki, seeming to sense it, traced the spot with the tips of his fingers.

Every breath you drew was heavy. You wanted him to lean in so badly that it hurt, worse than a pang, worse than an ache - there was a pain inside your chest that you felt only his mouth could soothe. “Kitten.”

He smiled – shy, almost. “Yes, but affectionate. T’eta minn ketlinkr. My kitten.”

At some point, his hand had crept over the back of your chair. In the half-circle of his arms, it was as though every dream you had ever dreamt had secretly been about him. Like every moment of déja-vu, every time you heard someone call your name and found no one there, every inexplicable instance of strange magic in your mundane life - it all traced back to him, in that moment. “Ketlinkr,” you tested the word. “I never did agree to the nickname.”

He drew the pad of his thumb over the lipstick smudge on your cheek, blinking uninterestedly down where his thumb came away red. “T’eta hverr, ketlinkr. Minn minikla ketti.”

“Why not, um… Ben…”

“Bendr,” he hummed. “Would you like to be my mortal wound?”

He knocked at one of your chair legs, tottling you backwards, then forwards when you overcorrected. You collided inelegantly with his chest, giving him the perfect opening to slide his arm around your waist and ‘catch’ you before you tumbled out of his lap. The new proximity pressed his cheek to yours. “Terribly sorry, kitten,” he spoke against the shell of your ear. “You’ll have to excuse my manners. All the alcohol I guess. I don’t know my own strength.”

You clutched at his collar. “You did that on purpose.”

“You have no proof. It’s your word against mine and I am excellent on the stand.” He held you tightly, winding his other arm around your back like a snare. You felt his cheek tip up in a smirk against yours, your shared giddiness seeming to overwhelm.

“I thought you were going to be nice.”

“That was the red-head. This is your Loki. Loki-Loki. He’s vile. ”

“Good evening, New York!” Tony had clambered up on the stage and commandeered the microphone. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, so many buttons deep that you could just make out the lines of scar tissue around his arc reactor. “Just a reminder that you have two minutes until midnight. So if you haven't found your soulmate yet, you’d better pick the hottest person in this room and settle for second best. Or hope! You never know.”

The crowd cheered. Loki deposited you on your knees, precariously balanced on his lap. “Hottest person in the room?”

“You’re supposed to kiss someone at midnight. Something about ringing in the new year and good luck in love.”

“Oh. Well, good thing I’ve already snatched you up. It would have been a blood bath if I had to find you with a minute until midnight.”

You tipped your head back and laughed. “My blood, more like. You should see the looks people are throwing you.”

Indignation glanced off his eyes; his hand rode up the length of your back, the heel of his palm slotting just under your skull to cradle your head. “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“It’s less about ‘letting’ and more about a dozen peoples’ personal journeys to find out what’s under your collar.”

The televisions mounted to the ceiling flickered; a thirty-second countdown began ticking down overhead. You tested your weight against Loki’s chest, curling your fingers around his shoulders.

“Well, if it’s tradition,” Loki started, his voice coy but eyes burning hot, “then who are we to deny?”

“You’re right. Tradition to uphold. It would practically be illegal not to.”

“Exactly. And I’m a good guy now, right? A hero. I am bound by duty to respect the law to the letter.” He paused. “That sounds horribly boring. Forget I said that.”

The crowd started counting at fifteen - a few stragglers at first, snowballing until the entire room was chanting. It was infectious, so heady that you felt as though your chest was fit to burst any second; you turned your face down to meet Loki’s, hardly able to stop yourself from just leaning in and sealing your mouth to his.

“I like it when you look at me,” Loki murmured.

You slid one hand over his cheek and traced the lines carved by his smile. “I like it when you look at me, too.”

Five, the room chanted. Loki tilted his head, his lips parting with an inaudible sigh. You moved your hand back down to his shoulder to steady yourself. Four, three–

You didn’t make it to one; Loki closed the distance early. Time slowed to an endless stretch that consisted only of his thumb, tracing a long, slow line down your ribs; of the amorous sound of your breath catching in your chest; of the weight of his legs pressed against yours. Though it seemed impossible, he drew you even more securely against the solid wall of his chest, so that you had no choice but to unfurl, winding both of your arms behind his neck.

The room must have been alight with noise and celebration but when you pulled away, you were only aware of him. His heavy-lidded eyes tracked your lips with a liquid kind of want, something that seemed to spill from him with every shaky breath.

He kissed you again.

“Why don’t you bring me back to your room,” he whispered, “and I’ll show you why they call me Silvertongue.”

You crammed yourselves in the backseat of a cab with the middle seat yawning a respectable distance between you. The driver greeted you with a grunt, his eyes resolutely fixed ahead; at just past midnight, you had a feeling he wasn’t in the mood to listen to drunken drivel or to sit through a peep show.

The streets were chaos; why you thought this would be easier, you couldn’t comprehend. Later, you would blame it on the dizziness, or the lovesickness.

You blinked out of your reverie when something brushed against your wrist. Loki’s hand had crossed the distance between you and lay, palm facing upwards, next to yours. He’d wiggled his index finger under your pinky.

With every block that you crossed, your giddiness was melting away to something else entirely, something hot and wanting. Something like honey, or maybe whiskey. At three-and-a-half blocks away from the tower, the two of you tumbled out of the car with a lacklustre happy new year, which the driver waved off. You paid him with too many bills, not willing to wait a second more.

The tower was deserted; even the lobby, which was usually lit up all hours of the day, was dark. The security guards had all left for the night, waved away by Tony with the insistence that FRIDAY could vet potential intruders while they enjoyed their evening. Your footsteps were painfully loud in the empty atrium.

Loki followed you up to your room like a spectre. By the time you got to your door, your hands were shaking so badly that you could hardly get your key into the lock, too distracted by the way Loki was mouthing at your jaw, breath hot and humid on your skin, his hands riding up your sides to tangle in the fabric of your dress.

“You have to stop for a second,” you gasped. “I can’t– I can’t think with you like this.”

His tongue traced a line over your pulse point. He turned you around and plucked the key from your hand before crowding you against the door, the open curve of his mouth a teasing pressure against yours. You heard the key grind against the little pins, then turn; Loki caught you at the last second when the door swung open underneath you, laughing, equal parts arrogant and aroused.

Loki leaned against the doorframe, his arms bracketing it on either side, and watched you back away. His head tilted; his eyes pulled you apart like a butcher pulled pork. You continued until the backs of your thighs met your couch, your bag and coat forgotten to the side in a sad heap.

The deadbolt slid into place with a click.

You beckoned him forward for a quick kiss. Hardly more than a peck.

“Oh, I think I deserve a little more than that.”

You hummed. “Careful, ben.. .”

“Bendr.” He reached up and toyed with your bottom lip, then leant down and licked where his thumb had been. “Your accent is infuriating.”

“I’m trying,” you gasped. One of his legs slotted between yours so he could lean his weight on the couch, effectively pinning you under him.

“Loki–” You were cut short by a sharp roll of his hips against yours. A truly evil grin shaded his handsome face before he tipped his head to kiss you again. You squirmed, turning your cheek; undeterred, Loki pressed his mouth to the highest point on your cheekbone. “Loki, really–”

“It’s fun. We’re just having fun, kitten.” He punctuated his sentence by working his hand over your body, palming one breast upwards with a turn of his wrist.

“Stop interrupting me.”

His mouth closed over your pulse point, dull teeth scraping over your skin with purpose. The hand not groping your chest slipped under your skirt, hiking it up so he could toy with the waistband of your underwear, drawing a featherlight path along the edge before occasionally sliding his thumb under, admiring the soft skin of your hip. Any coherent thought fizzled and stuttered until your mind was a blank well for him to pour his desire into. Don’t I make you feel good, he asked. Imagine what I can do with my hands. With my tongue.

He cooed at you, licking a long, flat stripe up your neck. The hand around your hip slid even higher, slotting nicely under the jut of your ribcage. He pressed his face into the dip between your neck and shoulder and sighed, his chest filling then draining to a terrible, shaky emptiness. He pretended to smile. “Humour me. Use me.”

Using the hand in his hair, you twisted his head to the side and kissed him, pressing all the things you couldn’t say into his lips. How sorry you were for not speaking sooner. How you hoped there might be a future left to scrounge. "Have I ruined it?"

His mouth twisted to a funny line. You got the impression that he wanted to continue pretending, to slip into a caricature of himself where your words hadn't hurt him. Maybe it would be easier to act as if the two of you had organically fallen in love and not stumbled, face-first, into a strange, unconfident dance. But then -- Loki had made many mistakes in his lifetime. Had fought losing battles until the end of days in the name of spite, or pain. He couldn't fault you for a mistake he would have made ten-fold, had he been in the same scenario.

So he kissed your knuckles for the simple pleasure of kissing you.

“Loki." You would write him a hundred love letters after tonight. “Look at my neck.”

His hands drew away slowly, though the ghost of them lingered; his seidr smoothed up and down your sides, as if Loki was committing to memory the feel of you unconsciously.

He twisted the top button from its buttonhole, then followed the placket all the way to the top of your belly until your dress was limp and wide open. It slipped down your shoulders; you would have expected him to be ogling you, or to make some lecherous comment now that you were exposed to him, but his eyes stayed neutral, his hands shy where they traced your upper arms.

“I’m going to turn around now.” You disentangled your legs and twisted, drawing your feet up and over the back of the couch so you were seated on the back.

He was silent for a while. “Have I developed your mortal hysteria? I must have conjured you up out of lust.”

“No, Loki. It’s just a… a cosmic prank, I guess.”

Silence yawned and stretched, a creature warmed from a long slumber. Eventually, Loki rounded the couch so he could kneel on the cushions between your knees. You wound him in by the collar of his shirt, fisting it until he was close enough to be kissed, whereafter he met you in steps – realization, that you were kissing him; elation, that he might get to kiss you; and desperation, to keep you there forever.

"What else could you call me?"

"Duva. Ljufi. Ah, ja, minn ljuflinkr."

"Ljufi?"

"Love." The stereo system under your tv picked up, crackling with static. The air grew thick with ozone and magic, which settled like humidity over the back of your neck and whispered nonsense. “Alright, my skittish kitten… What do you call me?”

“Hm... Love, maybe? Um, sweetheart? My soulmate?”

He nodded gravely, hands on either side of your face. “We have weeks to make up for. Again.”

You threaded your fingers through his belt loops, urging him to lean his weight on you. He followed gingerly, drawn by your voice like a dog on a lead. “Soulmate. My soulmate.”

He couldn’t ask you a third time. He was too busy committing to memory the curve of your mouth against his.

The picture was uploaded to Twitter on January 1st at 3:47 AM – It was terrible quality, taken in a dimly-lit bar only a minute after midnight. You and Loki were perfectly framed in a sea of lovers, so wrapped up in the other that you weren’t aware of the flash. Darcy’s lipstick was still smeared on your cheek; few stray curls hung in a curtain in front of Loki’s eyes; and his right hand was balled up in the fabric of your dress, the tension just right, so that the top few dots of your soulmark peeked out.

You were both beaming.

#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x female reader

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