#and how he is scrutinised and treated differently

[lewisinho]

"(...) and another thing, i've never seen lewis more relaxed than he was after the race on sunday; in the post-race press conference he had the floor to himself, just him on his own, answering questions about the season and what the title means to him; and his answers were heartfelt and illuminating. it was lewis, at his most articulate and endearing...but it was what happened immediately after the cameras stopped rolling that showed what a weight of his shoulders title number seven really is...he walked to the edge of the room and sat down, and even lay down at one point…and i think this must have been the first moment he had to himself since the end of the race and he was soaking it up; he was clearly emotionally drained but also really happy, you could really see the smile on his face. and as i walked out of the room, i said to him: "you alright!?" and he laughed and he wanted to chat, which is something that lewis, the racing driver, isn't usually very good at over a race weekend because he is too focused, too in the zone, too busy, but after clinching this title the wall came down ever so slightly...maybe just for a few minutes but i did see lewis, the man, and he is both interested and interesting, and very likeable. the wall might have gone back up by the time we get to bahrain because one of the things he said was that he still has three races to win this year...but i will always remember witnessing that moment of relaxed euphoria from the champ: turkey 2020."

~tom clarkson via the f1 nation podcast, 17th nov 2020

#revisited some old podcast episodes #and this one brought back all the turkey 2020 emotions 🥹 #i know it’s tom clarkson *sigh* and we can say a lot about how the media views lewis and all the shit in general #and how he is scrutinised and treated differently #but i thought it was quite a heartfelt behind the scenes moment with lewis taking it all in #thought i’d share #lewis hamilton #turkish gp 2020

[vivwritesfics]

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

So reade is together with either max or lando

She is not a model or something

She just looks like a normal person ( think a bit of a stomach, bigger thighs, a butt, if you get me)

She was cUght on camera and the fans are not happy about it

Like says tahr he deserves a better girl, you know the works

Said bf goes crazy about it

They tell everybody off

Then I think they get caught fucking on the yatch and the bf is just so proud cause gf is so beautiful during taht moment

Or they ger caught during a very sweet moment like during a races and they maybe dnfs??

Warnings: Body shaming (this is fluffy dw)

It was no secret that the internet hated Max's girlfriend. He'd had it before with Kelly and that was hard enough to get through. But now he was dating somebody his own age, he thought things would be different.

This time around he wasn't dating a model. She was a waitress in a coffee shop. Max couldn't stop himself from asking for her number. And the rest was history.

She wasn't stick thin like the models his friends dated. She had thighs and a stomach, and she loved it. She loved the way she looked.

But the internet didn't.

Full on hate pages were made just to poke fun at her. Anything she posted or did anything, it was scrutinised heavily. Y/N tried to stay away from all of it, but it was near impossible. Especially when it appeared as a suggested post.

She was happy with Max and that was all that mattered, right? Not the tiktoks that were made about her, pointing out all of her flaws and all of the things that made her insecure.

Max could see it getting to her. And he was sick of it, sick of how his girlfriend was treated by the people that were supposed to be his fans. So, he did the only thing he could think of and he made an instagram post.

She was sitting on his lap in the picture as he held her thighs, kissing her. It wasn't anything like Max's usual posts, but it had to be done.

Spoiler alert, it didn't fix anything. If anything, it made everything so much worse.

But they were trying not to let it get to them. Y/N still attended every race, still kissed Max after every podium. She kissed him when he DNFed, when he had a good or bad qualifying. She kissed him whenever he could.

A few days after Abu Dhabi, a video appeared on her tiktok. She tried not to go on it much, but her friends had sent it to her several times over.

She opened it. There was a video of her, a compilation of all of the times that she and Max had kissed during the last few grand prix weekends. A sweet song played in the background, the words appearing over the screen as the videos were slowed down.

It was amazing, the first nice thing she'd seen about herself on the internet. After leaving a like and a sweet comment, she ran to show max.

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey lovie, I hope u are well, If ur taking requests atm is it possible u could do miguel when ur on ur period? I feel like his protective instincts would kick in and he would try to help u as best he could. he would conquer ur mood swings like a champ, and use his big ass hands as a heating pad lol.

<33

hii!! I wasn’t taking requests when this was sent in, but I got mine today (and im in agony so this helped hehe) so I wanted to do this. im still on a writing break but to compromise I made this into some headcanons, hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

✧.┊MASTERLIST

period hc’s with miguel || wc 553

— first things first, he'd be such a great boyfriend, especially when you're on your period, like the absolute best !!

— he wouldn't smother you, wouldn't make you feel claustrophobic. he would never make you feel embarrassed for it either

— I feel like he gets better at helping over time. at the beginning of your relationship, he would be a little awkward around it (not because he's a man, and it's blood or whatever, but because he doesn't know how to help you, how to make you feel better) so over the course of dating he's learnt tonnes

— he is spider-man after all, so he's still a total nerd- he loves learning about them (not in any weird way, just learning in order to understand better etc)

— but every few months, you would completely throw him off. he thought he had your mood swings, cravings, patterns etc down to a T, so every once in a while when that would change, he'd be back at square one

— he would find himself keeping log of your behaviours (again, nothing weird, he just wants to help you) he would recognise patterns and anticipate them like he was trying to get ahead of you, as if he's trying to prepare

— at first, you found his interest pretty odd. no one ever cared that much about your periods, so you found it strange for him to care so much. but you got used to it, and you found it endearing for him to care about something most guys would be disgusted by

— I definitely think miguel is a gentleman, so he loves to treat his girl well, do things for her, care for her, treat and respect her. and he's no different with you

— he's very prepared and always has a stock of your favourite feminine products just in case. he buys multiple boxes of your favourite teas, bags of chocolates, and containers of fruits. he knows what you like, and he goes all out

— he would definitely handle your mood swings like a pro, and dare I say, he would take your anger on the chin. if you snapped at him, he wouldn't say anything, he'd nod, wait for you to calm and then proceed. he wouldn't get angry at you as he knew it was hormonal. he wouldn't scrutinise you for it or bring it up in a future argument. he was aware you might not mean what you say so he would never use it against you

— if you felt guilty for shouting at him, he'd be super comforting and reassuring, "I know you didn't mean it, baby. I know," he would stroke over the back of your head, holding you to his chest. "let's lay down for a bit, hm? get some rest," he would be careful with his tone. he wouldn't want to patronise you

— once you laid down, he'd slip beside you, his huge frame keeping you safe and warm. he'd place his palm over your tummy, using his hand as a makeshift heat pad to help with your cramps. he'd touch you to sleep (lovingly ofc!!) he would stroke over your arm with his spare hand, caressing your cheeks, gently raking through your hair. he'd be a total softie, utterly enamoured with you, even though you cussed him out five minutes prior

— — — — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — — — —

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #period comfort

[lauras-collection]

the end ✮ t.h.

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: this is not how you thought your evening would end.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: just pure angst

A/N: uhhhh, long time no tom fic.... and it’s a bit of a different one. will this be my last tom fic ever? let’s hope not.

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

He’s been checking his phone all evening. And not just once an hour, no, he’s checking it every five minutes. 

“Are you waiting for a call?” You finally ask, not able to hide the frustration in your voice. You haven’t been able to spend a whole evening together in weeks. And now he’s not even really here with you. 

“Hm? No, no it’s nothing.” He doesn’t even look at you for longer than a second. 

And if it’s nothing why doesn’t he put his phone away? 

You thought asking him about it would be hint enough to make him realise that you don’t like this. That you don’t like sitting in a fancy restaurant with your boyfriend while he’s got his phone right there. You didn’t even wanna come here. You would’ve rather stayed at home on the sofa, curled up into Tom’s side. But he insisted. 

I wanna take you out. He said.

But now you’re thinking that maybe he just didn’t want to be around you. You close the menu, trying not to focus on the fact that your hands are shaking. What are you even doing here?

You knew that being with Tom had its challenges. Constantly being scrutinised by his fans, having to deal with him being away filming for most of the year. But you were so in love with him you didn’t mind. But this isn’t your scene. You don’t even like the fancy dress you’re wearing. You wanted to do him the favour, he’s been gone for so long and this is the first time he’s back and he actually has time for you. And he wanted to go to this restaurant. Why, you don’t know. At the beginning of your relationship all you did was order take out. Maybe go to the little Italian place around the corner if you felt like going on a proper date. 

You feel like crying. 

You’ve noticed him distancing himself from you for a while. You thought it was just because of his current job, that it was hard for him. But you thought you’d get through this. But every attempt from you to start a conversation was shot down by him. Not directly, but you didn’t really feel like having a conversation where he just gave you one worded answers. 

The realisation comes suddenly, but you know it’s been brewing in your mind for a long time. You just weren’t ready to admit it to yourself.

You don’t want to be with Tom anymore. 

Well, that’s not exactly true. You’re still in love with Tom, but not with the version of him sitting across from you right now. You don’t know what happened over the course of the last twelve months, but somehow he changed, and he changed in a way that you don’t recognise him anymore.

You look at him, trying to make eye contact but he’s busy staring at something over your shoulder.

“Tom?”

“Hm?” he forces a small smile but it’s gone before you can even really register it.

“What are we doing?” You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, you can feel your heart breaking in your chest. 

“What do you mean? We’re having dinner at a nice restaurant.” Tom seems confused. Has he not noticed how tense this whole evening has been? How uncomfortable you are? 

“We’re sitting in silence like two strangers.” You start, “Everytime I’m trying to start a conversation you brush me off with one worded answers.” 

“Are you serious? I had a tough week, okay? So excuse me if I don’t feel like talking.” 

You recoil a little at his harsh tone. 

“We could’ve stayed at home. You insisted on going out. And now you keep checking your phone instead of talking to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He rolls his eyes and your jaw drops. You’re not letting him treat you like this. You brush your sweaty palms on your dress, then get up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” 

“You can’t just leave.” 

“Watch me.” You push the chair in, put on your coat and sling your bag over your shoulder. “Have a nice evening.” With that you leave him sitting there. 

And he doesn’t even try to stop you.

As soon as you step out of the restaurant the tears start rolling down your cheeks. How did you end up here? What happened that made him pull away from you? Was it something you did? It can’t be. You’ve always been supportive of him and his career. Even if it meant you were having a long distance relationship for most of the year. And of course your relationship had never been perfect. There have been fights and tears but you always managed to work through it together. 

But you have a feeling Tom doesn’t want to work through whatever this is. He doesn’t even seem to care that your relationship is falling apart. If he did he would already be chasing after you. 

Your fingers play with the keys in your pocket. They’re the keys to Tom’s place. You press your lips together as you make a decision. 

“What is this?” You ask, the wide smile on your face matching Tom’s as you look at the little satchel in your hands.

“It’s for you.” 

“I figured as much.” You playfully roll your eyes.

“Well, open it!” He urges you, his knee is bouncing with nervous energy.

You gently open the satchel and turn it around to let its contents fall into your palm.

It’s a set of keys.

You look at Tom in surprise. “Is this…?”

“The keys to my place, yeah.” His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. “I thought it would be nice for you to have it. So you can come round whenever you want to, even if I’m not home yet.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You throw your arms around him. “Thank you so much.” You whisper before placing a kiss on his cheek, then his lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

***

The house is quiet when you enter. Of course it is, Tom is still at the restaurant. You have to be quick or you’ll start crying again. Taking two steps at a time you climb up the stairs, inside Tom’s bedroom you take a deep breath. Even his room seems to have a different aura. You grab all your clothes that have accumulated here over time. You spent most of your time at your place so it’s not too much but you don’t want to leave anything here. You’re on autopilot while you stuff everything inside the duffel bag you brought. 

You rush down the stairs and enter the kitchen. Tessa’s bowls are collecting dust in the corner of the room. He’s been abandoning her, too. Leaving her with his parents even when he’s home. You suppress a sob and pull his key off your keyring, placing it on the kitchen table. Then you fumble with the clasp of your necklace. He gave it to you on your first anniversary. 

“Happy anniversary, baby.” His voice is still gravelly from sleep, he tightens his arms around you placing a kiss on your cheek. 

You lean back into him with a content sigh. “Happy anniversary.” You weave your fingers through his and kiss the back of his hand. 

You turn around so you can look at him. His hair is messy, the sun that’s streaming in through the window hitting his eyes in a way that makes his eyes appear even prettier than usual. 

“I love you.” You whisper and watch Tom’s face light up.

“I got you something.” 

“I thought we said we wouldn’t get each other gifts?” You pout, you don’t have anything for him.

“I know but I saw this and it made me think of you. And this just seems like the perfect opportunity to give it to you.” His smile is cheeky as he reaches for something on his bedside table. 

You're distracted by the way his muscles move under his tan skin. You’d both taken a week off and gone on an impromptu holiday in Spain. Just the two of you.

He turns back around, a small jewellery box in his hand and your heart starts beating out of your chest. You look at him with wide eyes. 

“Don’t worry I’m not proposing yet.” He laughs and you breathe a sigh of relief. Even though you would’ve said yes to him in an instant but you don’t know if you’re ready for marriage yet. “Open it up.” 

You feel your face heat up with excitement as you flip open the box. It’s a dainty necklace with a small sun pendant. It’s beautiful.

“Because you’re my sunshine.” He smiles, then gently takes the necklace out of the box. “C’mere.” 

You move so Tom can put the necklace on you. The pendant rests between your collarbones, the material cold on your heated skin. You feel Tom press his lips to the back of your neck.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You place the necklace next to the key. As much as you love the piece of jewellery, it holds too many memories of you and Tom together. You can’t keep it.

You consider leaving a note, but decide against it. You don’t have to explain yourself. If he cares enough to want answers he can call you.

You quickly walk out the door and close it before you can change your mind again.

No turning back now.

_____

A/N: maybe I'll do a part 2 we’ll see

besties tag: @spidermanlondon​​ ☆ @duskholland​​ ☆ @heyhihellowhatsup0​​ ☆ @annathesillyfriend​​ ☆ @hazofmyheart​ ☆ @emilykjh​ ☆ @sinisterspidey​ ☆ @lovebittenbyevans​​ ☆ @miraclesoflove​​ ☆ @seasidetom ☆ @selfcarecap​​ ☆ @missevrythingg​​ ☆ @userholland​​ ☆ @softholand​​  ☆ @hotforharrison​​ ☆ @osterfield-holland-andcompany​​ ☆ @thecodyexpress​​ ☆ @worldoftom​​ 

#tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you

[effieandtim]

To add on the amazing ask about the difference in social status between Tim and Hawk and how that informs their choices and their changes in going forward...I may add that it's further highlighted with Marcus, and how he's basically similar to Hawk, in wanting to not fall in love, or choosing his career over everything else...but he's also fundamentally different and at the end take a different route than Hawk, because his social status is not the same as Hawk. He's a black man living in a racist world, and if part of him is willing to sacrifice his homosexuality for a job, he's also not willing to sacrifice his own morals as a POC.

oh i agree, marcus and frankie both kinda have more at stake bc at the end of the day, tim and hawk are still white men - so on the surface they arent scrutinised as much and thats just the reality

also that’s possibly another reason why they both are with tim in his activism bc they probably saw how queer pocs were being treated and were facing discrimination on multiple levels

ik the focus of this season are tim and hawk but i hope we get an anthology series of sorts by queer POCs creators that put queer POCs at the centre

#anons #fellow travelers #marcus gaines #frankie hines #tim laughlin #hawkins fuller #jonathan bailey

[thetrashbagswasteland]

Hi.

Are you willing to ramble to me about Saren's spectre training shenanigans and how Nihlus and Avi were different.

Thank you 😊😊😊

Apologies for the delay there's a chronic shortage at the spoon factory here BUT (obligatory disclaimer here: some of this is based off canon, the rest is headcanon central) Basically in my verse(s), Avitus came first. There's varying reasons for this but basically, if we go off the timeline as provided by bioware, Saren had been a spectre for 10 years at the time he recommends Avitus to the council (as per their official timeline stating he was hired in 2158 and Avitus himself saying he'd been a spectre for 15 years aka if he quit in 2183 after the battle of the citadel he was hired in 2168). My personal feeling is that, no matter how much trust the council had in Saren and how comfortable he was in his position, that first choice of student is going to be heavily scrutinised with some real pressure placed on him to pick someone who is comfortingly loyal to the hierarchy and the way the system is. Ergo, he knows that as much as soldiers don't necessarily make the best spectres, picking one is very good for optics and confidence in him. But... the lists he's given, full of recommendations for good, dutiful lifelong military people don't cut it; where's the spark? where's the strength of personality needed to be alright with working alone and under extreme pressure? where's the confidence and harshness to make hard calls without a chain of command to hold their hand? And then he finds out about Avitus Rix, who's in the middle of being court martialed for blowing up a mining colony against his superior's orders. How he finds out varies; in the yes-reapers verse he finds out due to the fact that the reasons giving for destroying the colony sound like the arca monolith and he's curious enough to interrogate him, only to feel sorry for him. In the no-reapers verse though, it's Desolas, on the board for that trial, who goes "hey, you might like this one" and encourages him to see if he's got what it takes. Either way, he saves this man from what'll surely be a death sentence and decides to give him a fair shot at it. The first few weeks are... rough on the both of them. Avitus is pretty certain he's going to die regardless, Saren's got no idea how to handle training someone. Empathy is what he picks, in the end, deciding that empathy and respect will go a long way into building a ruined man into a useful asset. And... he's not wrong! With Avitus, respect is the crucial thing for earning his loyalty and he sure gets that in spades. He's firm but tries to be encouraging whenever possible and treats him like a person. For either verse, Avitus has a ton of respect/hero-worship for Desolas and that translates into respect for Saren with surprisingly little work. But... the problem with him is that he's fundamentally limited by years of being told to shut up and listen to orders. Maybe he's unflinchingly barbaric when called for, but he's most comfortable as a follower, not a leader, and that's really quite a shame.

Then Saren gets the call to go pick a new student. Again, lists of nominations from the great, the good and the hopeful pour in. Fuck that, fuck the lot of them, he wants to do better this time and... the way he sees to do better is to find someone who's not a good little citizen. Look, he's proven he can pick good little turian citizens, but he doesn't want good, he wants great. And that's what leads him to go searching for a mercenary; someone who's far more comfortable with working independently and who's got a mind of their own. Still, can't get away with a barefaced merc, no matter how much he'd like one. So... he goes looking for what the hierarchy does with mercenaries, the dead-end soul-destroying postings in the middle of the shittiest environment possible, and there he finds Nihlus Kryik. Young, intelligent and violently disinterested in doing as he's told. He's perfect. So he spirits him away and realises within about 10 minutes flat that respect and kindness won't cut it with him; Nihlus has no desire to listen to him and even less to be told what to do. They fight. A lot. Dawn wakeups for endurance runs, repetitive ass-kickings until Nihlus is debating between murdering him in his sleep and running away to never return - it's an exercise in psychological warfare until he finds exactly what makes him tick and perfects the right combination of praise and ass-kicking to get what he wants out of him. And then he's just... superb. Within very little time, he's as close to a household name as a spectre can be, darling in the council's eyes and scourge of everyone who comes up against him, highly successful and justifiably decorated as a result of that. Exactly what Saren had hoped he had the potential to be from the start, now if only the bastard hadn't driven him halfway insane on the journey to get there! Together, the three of them are a force to be reckoned with; one spectre alone is a one-man-army and the three of them are damned near unstoppable for how they work together and play off one another. Plus they're just... feral as a group. As for shenanigans, well, I'm in the process of writing my version of Saren recruiting Avitus (to be called: The Student) and can offer this fic (Like Dogs In Elk), which is a training mission fic set midway through Nihlus' training. I really want to write more of these when I get a chance but I have SO MANY WIPS as it is 😅

#ask meme #part of Nihlus' recruitment is in First To Come Last too for flavour #yeah I think about the differences between these bastards a completely normal amount

[dagranwrites]

Plasmius lore incoming

tl;dr slaps Vlad so hard he keels over this bad boy can fit so much vampire lore (still half-ghost)

I’ve mentioned it in the end notes of half himself for half his life, that Dan doesn’t need infodumping, but Danny does, but that is uhhhhh…. at least(!) one more one-shot away because the next one in the mental pipeline is thematically entirely different, but this has already cooked to completion in my brain, also what’s not to love about more Plasmius lore and why he looks Like That

so Vlad’s a half-ghost, Plasmius by himself is a ghost, this remains entirely uncontested, Plasmius isn’t a vampire, but he is vampire folklore, because Vlad’s personal interests don’t just encapsulate ghosts (although he was happy to focus for Jack and Maddie, since he did love ghost research with them), but anything and everything supernatural, so his knowledge spans a much wider array of creatures – vampires included

and Vlad had vampires on the brain while he was confined to the hospital, but the influence he enacted on his ghost-half was mostly subconscious because he wasn't actually in a good mental place to have coherent ghost-shaping thoughts

Jack and Maddie’s antipathy and outright eagerness to harm ghosts was much more present in the maelstrom coursing through his mind, with all their threats suddenly being much more personal

Vlad was hospitalised, left alone (in part because he might not have been allowed visitors at first, then because he chased them away, but the Vlad I write also didn’t have any next of kin at that point, so there’s that as well), scrutinised for what the ectoplasm did to his body by doctors unqualified for what they were treating, turned into something that his best friends would gleefully hunt, and he couldn’t get rid of at that point, with a brain chock-full of creature lore and a stress-fuelled neurochemical cocktail cooking in there

where Danny’s transformation was basically instant, Vlad’s festered into existence like an ulcer in those first few days at the hospital

Vlad considered his powers something monstrous, why would he think anything else after a couple years of ghost research with Jack and Maddie, even if he doesn’t fully share that belief, he knows that they believe it and that they’re trigger-happy enough to shoot first and ask questions later, and that he cannot be sure if they would come if they found out – and that’s scary, and damning, considering Vlad was being protective when the accident happened, and he can’t unbecome what he is now, he can’t uncreate himself (there’s no way he or Jack or Maddie would know for certain how to kill a ghost at that point, so he can’t exactly rip Plasmius out and pretend all is well)

and the way he dealt with all that was by compartmentalising his ghost half into folklore that made it manageable, and what it latched onto was vampire lore, specifically Slavic vampire lore, even more specific the concept of living vampires, people with two hearts and two souls, capable of leaving their body to engage in vampiric behaviour while sleeping – two hearts and two souls, one half sleeping transformed, while the other one acts, that’s manageable because he can think of his human half as its own thing still, and his ghost powers as coexisting with them within the same space, and Vlad is not Plasmius and Plasmius is not Vlad, and that equals a modicum of control in a situation where he was stripped of it

the lines blur later when Vlad has better control over his ghost powers, but he still calls himself a living ghost because it resonates with him the most

Plasmius takes subconscious inspiration from several kinds of vampires, but here are the most apparent influences

basic Slavic vampire folklore, with vampires as a manifestation of an unclean spirit possessing a decomposing body, vengeful and jealous of the living

as explained, living vampires, creatures with two hearts and two souls

an upiór, as someone who was cursed before dead, died suddenly or someone whose corpse was desecrated (not the only ways to become one, but the ones that fit Plasmius most), they are said to arrive at night with glowing wolf-like eyes and to be able to kill people with their breath and shrieks, plagues are also generally blamed on upiórs

a strzyga (f), or strzygoń (m), while a demon is often held comparable to Slavic vampires, as they also have two hearts and two souls, but are also said to have two sets of teeth, though unlike upiórs, strzygas can born like that (there is more than one way to become one), stzygi also usually die at a young age, however only one of their souls moves on, while the other remains to go after the living

a nelapsi, a Slovakian vampiric revenant, also of the "two hearts and two souls"-kind, as well as said to be one of the most dangerous vampire types who can destroy an entire village in a single night due to their speed and strength, they are described as walking corpses with no signs of decay, pale skin, a lean and muscular build, burning red eyes, sharp talons on hands and feet, long, greasy black hair, and a mouth full of needle like fangs and teeth

ultimately Vlad’s ghost half is none of these specifically, instead Plasmius is a cocktail of several specific traits that express themselves determinedly vampiric, which in turn dictates how he functions as a ghost

I solved the many differences between the ghosts by making their defining trait being creatures of superstition and belief, which means that either by their own or outside influence they can make just about anything work because they only have to believe that it works, but they don’t have to be aware of this belief (strong outside influences are a bit tricky, but personal belief can more than often override it)

and that’s why Vlad looks Like That as Plasmius (also because a lack of distinctive resemblance makes it easier for him to do crimes, but that’s beside the point, which is also why Plasmius is more buff, so even their body types aren’t comparable and people just have to know that it’s him)

years worth of accumulated vampire lore being the core of what makes Plasmius tick also means that yes, Vlad did indeed placebo himself one of the worst cases of feral vampire ghost hunger in recent history, and no, he’s not aware of it that he could have just skipped that step

you can probably see where this is going or rather where it came from, but as vampires generally require the (life)blood of humans and Plasmius is basically a self-made vampire jigsaw puzzle… he needs the lifeblood of his own kind, or he’s having A Grand Ol’ Bad Time, but it also plays into the aspects of what specifically he requires in terms of ectoplasm and Vlad had to experiment a little to find the right balance for his own supply because he does require a certain amount of “fresh from the vein”-plasm, aged-like-wine Ghost Zone ectoplasm just doesn’t cut it (but makes a good filler for his personal blend, to easily quantify it and stretch it a little if need be)

he doesn’t keep it in blood bags, but stores it in what are essentially reusable yoghurt pouches, since it's not as liquid as blood

Dan can be afflicted in the same way, but doesn’t have to be, my personal take is that this is mostly because for Danny, who has grown up with ectoplasm infused food, it’s more like having low blood sugar, so Danny’s blissful ignorance of The Craving is overruling Dan’s desire to chomp other ghosts, another factor is that while Dan has absorbed Plasmius powers relatively seamlessly, he didn’t absorb much of anything else from Vlad’s ghost half and it has been knocking around inside of him like a violent bouncy ball since then

Vlad doesn't actually like blood, unless it's mixed with ectoplasm, but he does love wine

#fandom: danny phantom #character: vlad masters #type: text post #danny phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #the blood-plasm is actually a post for itself #so I won't get into it here

[mcheang]

Felix tells Adrien the truth

With everyone but Adrien and Kagami left to accompany Felix in Paris, they demand he return everyone.

Felix: everyone? Even Monarch?

Adrien: you know who he is?

Felix: Obviously. How else would I have found him to make our trade? Dear cousin, have you ever wondered why I would want the peacock miraculous when I had most of Ladybug’s miraculous at my disposal?

Adrien: it’s not like I knew you made a trade. But…for the peacock miraculous to hold such interest to you…

Felix: did you ever wonder how we could look so identical despite being cousins? How our mothers could give birth despite being infertile?

Kagami: are you saying… you are a sentimonster? That you’re both sentimonsters?

Felix: Adrien’s obedience to Gabriel is more than habit, Kagami. It’s because he, and Nathalie now too, who holds your amok, and how they’re controlling you.

Adrien: you’re just lying.

Felix: oh? Want to prove it? I can bring back everyone but your father. Monarch attacks every few days. If there are no attacks, will you believe me then? You can ask Tomoe or Nathalie for the truth if you don’t believe me. But I warn you, Nathalie has your ring Adrien. Whatever she orders you to do, you have no choice but to obey

Adrien’s eyes were tearing up. “No! Bring everyone back!”

Felix: even at the risk of Monarch being free again, and for our uncle to again try to matchmake you two together? I heard about the cataclysm. Your father’s days are numbered. Locked away by red moon, Chat’s cataclysm’s effects will be frozen in time.

Adrien: I need to think

Felix: we literally have no one rushing us

Kagami: bring back Ladybug. I trust her judgement.

Felix sighed. “Fine but if she attacks, I’m snapping my fingers again.”

Needless to say Ladybug is surprised by Felix’s accusation. Also…she felt sorry for Adrien.

Ladybug: do you know where the butterfly miraculous is hiding

Felix: under his tie, duh

Ladybug: bring Gabriel back first and I’ll tie him up with my yo-yo. We can see the truth then.

Ladybug’s plan works and Nooroo is free. The rings are recovered.

Adrien is horrified.

Gabriel: I wanted to bring back your mother

Felix: somehow I doubt my aunt would be pleased to hear you neglecting my cousin, or rejecting her sister.

Argos then brings everyone back, satisfied enough with Gabriel being arrested. He recalls Red Moon, having suspicions about who Ladybug is under the mask.

Argos is both a criminal and a hero to Paris.

Nathalie gives Adrien his ring and admits she is Mayura and dying.

Amelie buried her sister in a small ceremony. She offers to take Adrien in since he is being scrutinised by the public

Marinette is depressed and she thinks she has to save Duusu, though Felix did aid largely in defeating Monarch and saving the other kwami

Adrien is surprised to see Felix at home and how accepting Duusu is of their new holder.

Chat Noir reports this to Ladybug and she accepts that Felix can keep Duusu for helping her defeat Monarch and recover all the miraculous

When Marinette visits them, Felix is understandably wary and more protective of his miraculous. He treats Marinette in a civil manner but as soon as Adrien leaves them alone, he confronts her.

Marinette honestly admits that she will let him keep Duusu, but cannot help wondering why he didn’t just tell her who Monarch was outright.

Felix: you killed my brethren, you don’t deserve my trust.

Marinette immediately understands the sentimonsters she defeated. “I’m sorry, I should have come up with a different plan.”

“Besides destroying their smoke or sending them to the sun,” Felix said harshly. “Yes, you should have. I tolerate you because you’re good to Adrien, but I will never trust you with Duusu.”

Marinette: i know. I don’t trust you either because of what you made me go through when Risk was defeated. But I do owe you.

Adrien came back and they get along as before.

They cannot be called friends, nor enemies. Acquaintances will have to do.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #émotion au #Felix exposes Monarch

[someginger05]

Traitor (A Warhammer 40k Fan Story)

Traitor will be a three part story taking place in the Warhammer Sci Fi universe. This story follows a slightly different history from what we know from the 30,000 millennium with new horrors, new monsters and new traitors. There is no one who can be trusted as of this time. The most vital resource in this period is the truth.

Part 1: From The Skies

The Imperium had seen a golden age for centuries when the legendary primarchs and their space marine legions brought the Galaxy to heel under the banner of the Emperor himself. Colchis was the home to the Word Bearers legion and their Primarch Lorgar Aurelian. The world was covered in sprawling dunes and great spires of worship to who they believed was the God Emperor of Mankind. Lorgar and his legion had been looked down upon by many for their zealotry but their effectiveness in securing loyal and efficient worlds could not be understated. Although Colchis was their home world, the true land of the Word Bearers and the Imperial Truth was on Khur, especially within the city of Monarchia. Monarchia was a city of spires that pierced the void itself and eternally loyal citizens to the Emperor as the cathedrals and temples across the world enforced their belief. Monarchia was a city beyond the simple favour of zealots however as although the Emperor himself could never set foot in the land, his sons did so and acted with awe and joy. Even the Primarchs who sought perfection and scrutinised anything but, saw the city as an example for the rest of the Imperium, even if the dogma was undesirable. 

In recent times the western Galaxy had fallen under a shadow of failed communications and thus word travelled slowly with even the greatest minds in the Mechanicus being unable to find the source of the disruption. Despite this no one in the west were fearful or confused as the Word Bearers prevented any invasion from beyond their borders. This day was a good one on Colchis, the air was not as dry as it would normally be which meant that soon rain would fall which was a celebrated affair on Colchis as they could collect water without relying on the outer Imperium. Lorgar was in his greatest Cathedral built atop his old home continuing to write and plan alongside his apostles and commanders such as his own adoptive father Kor Phaeron and Erebus. Suddenly from the cloudy skies descended a colossal ship bearing the symbols of the 13th legion. 

From the ship emerged Chapter Master Marius Gage on behalf of his primarch Roboute Guilliman. The golden rim of his armour shone like stars in the eyes of the people with his deep blue armour reminding them of the skies above. He laughed and embraced Argel Tal who had been sent to meet with him. The two goliaths then marched back to the great Cathedral. The Ultramarines followed their Chapter Master, they never removed their helmets or spoke but simply moved forward while the Word Bearers, their heads bare, looked upon their brothers with unease. The Ultramarines and Word Bearers had no animosity and yet the Ultramarines treated the Word Bearers, not as cousins but as just other soldiers. The matter was serious, they could tell instantly after as the Ultramarines, usually in armour that exuded perfection and glory now, were chipped and damaged by an unseen war.  

After some time, the signals were given, the Word Bearers were rallied with the reserves donning their armour and moving swiftly. More of the 13th arrived as citizens were moved to shelters and told to remain far from the planetary defences. On one of these ships, we see Captain Marakos Arasian lead his company into organising from their deployment. He is approached by his Word Bearer companion Zar Kadal, a Captain. 

“Cousin! How have you been? I have not seen you since the days of the northern campaign and when we faced down the Xenos at Hellion!” Kadal expressed; his arms open for a kindly embrace. Marakos was the first of the 13th to remove his helm as a gracious smile came over his strained face, “I have been well Kadal! However, times have not been kind to the Imperium! We shall see it outdone though; we always do!” Marakos exclaimed as they embraced their arms. Kadal requested a walk and Marakos indulged him. Marakos and Kadal handed their lieutenants their written orders and they moved with vigour.  

The two Captains walked along the battlements laughing of ages past. Then the air cooled, and the breeze halted, “Why are you here Marakos? Not just you but the 13th? We have had no word of what is occurring and yet we appear to prepare for the end of days” Kadal inquired as he rested his gauntlet upon the mace by his hip. Marakos looked to the sky and began to sweat, Kadal looked upon the scars and chips on Marakos’ armour, tilting his head in confusion “What are the marks too cousin? Your legion does not often appear in any state less than what the Emperor, praise be his name, would expect?” Marakos’ demeanour was broken as he placed his helm upon his head. 

“We are betrayed Kadal” Marakos said, resting on the battlement barrier. Kadal was confused and before he could speak Marakos continued, “The communication of the west had not been broken by any mistake or Xenos threat, it was planned from the beginning” Marakos turned around and unwrapped a bloody rag, inside was the symbol of the Dark Angels, broken and seemingly altered to feature an eye and at the end of the hilt was the very star of chaos. Kadal gasped, “Cousin, we had been isolated from the Imperium for some time but surely it has not been that long? And how? How could I have been so blind? How could the God Emperor permit or not see this betrayal? Why did they betray us?” Marakos wrapped the sigil back in the rag and placed it at his hip.  

“We fell upon Caliban with haste and wrath, too swiftly for any further legions to know. We were joined by the 5th, 10th, 12th, 18th, and 19th legions alongside the Emperor’s sons. We were turned on during this battle, but most of the Ultramarine fleet was still in the void upon the betrayal and fled to extend the message of treason. Soon the traitors will arrive, and they must prepare in the meantime” Marakos explained with a choked grief stuck in his throat. Kadal was stricken by this to the heart and expressed his shock. Marakos assured his cousin but warned, “Kadal be aware, traitors are within our ranks and their locations are unknown. Many of our own have been found dead in friendly territory. Be careful cousin, this is not a war we intend to lose” Kadal nodded, quite shaken. Marakos looked to the skies and Kadal turned his gaze towards Marakos, “So… who’s blood shall fall upon our blades?” Kadal asked, placing the helm upon his head. Marakos explained that after they had fled Caliban they were pursued by the 5th and 12th with the 5th being at full strength. Kadal pulled his eyes attention from the clouded sky and turned to face the landing Ultramarines, “Well, cousin if we are to die then we shall die together. If we are to be victorious then we will make the Emperor smile” Kadal lamented. 

Writer's Gratitude:

This is the end of Part 1! Please stay tuned for part 2 hopefully coming in this month (hopefully) Any and all constructive criticism will be appreciated as I have never undertaken anything of this sort before and would appreciate any and all help. Thank you if you have read this fanfiction and I hope to see you again in the next part! (Thanks again)

#space marines #dark angels #adeptus mechanicus #warhammer 40000 #warhammer #fanfic #fandom #fan fiction #fiction writing #science fiction #fanfics #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #thank you #part 1 #traitors #horus heresy #heresyposting #chaos #imperium #the emperor #word bearers #ultramarines #lorgar aurelian #erebus #warhammer oc #kor phaeron #marius gage #first story

[louisthiccsexyglitteryass]

Something I think about a lot

This is mainly just a generalized 'thought' but I will be using fandom-specific references to reinforce what I mean, because sometimes I can't articulate.

Often, celebrities are given a 'unique' angle by the media. This could be any number of things, and in the case of Harry Styles, from 16/17 years of age, he was 'a Womaniser'.

But a womaniser is someone who mistreats women, not dates.

Dating, as I'm sure all sensible people know, is simply going out with someone. Dating often means one or two dates and then breaking up. It's how you get yourself out there.

But the way the media acts is that if a man or woman who happens to be famous goes out with someone and a similar thing happens (which I'm sure we can all agree is just how life works), they're a womaniser. Or a slut. Or a tramp.

Being comfortable with going on dates and wanting to be casual is, for some reason, not ok if you're famous. If you're famous, you must settle down with someone.

But not too early.

If you're famous, you must be faithful.

But not boring.

If you're famous, you must love your partner.

But you can't be too open about it.

Anything a celebrity does is held under a microscope. Everything is so heavily scrutinised that you cannot do anything without fear of repercussion.

Mistakes cannot be made.

Now, I will acknowledge, men have it much better than women.

A man can be a player, etc. But a woman is a whore. A man is congratulated, a woman is scorned. A man is just messing around, a woman is involved in a sex scandal.

But we need to realise that all celebrities can be seen like this.

And now with the existence of cancel culture and the likes, it is worse.

An army rallies to point the finger of blame when a couple breaks up, allegations swoop around and insults are thrown into the abyss. Sometimes fake, which ruins a reputation far beyond repair because someone said something that might mean something.

Celebrities do horrible things, yes. Sometimes they can be intensive, yes. Sometimes it appears that they flaunt their wealth when people are dying, yes.

But they're human too.

The fundamentals of humanity are that we make mistakes, and that's ok, and some make more than others, which is fine. The bottom line is, is that we're imperfect, and emotions are messy and an tangled web or misunderstandings and dodgy sources.

Humanity is imperfect.

But humanity is humanity, and judging someone for going on a date when you just encouraged your friend to get themselves back out there and go the casual route for a while? That's just harsh.

Humans are judged by appearance.

You're too skinny, not skinny enough, you're not pale enough, you're too pale, you're too tall, not tall enough. You have a slutty chest, you're flat. Your ass is too big, it's not big enough. Too muscular, not muscular enough.

There are so many pressures on all of humanity, and those in the public eye experience it too.

Think about songs.

It's easy to find a lyric that says 'oh, you're ok, you have something you're insecure about but I don't mind because it's beautiful because its who you are'.

We can acknowledge these, but we can't have them. You can mention them, but not too much. Now you're ranting and its getting old.

We can't just exist.

Women can be oversexualised, or not sexy enough. Men are sexualising them too much, or not enough.

Basically, what I'm trying to say, is that people suck.

People suck a lot.

And judging people for no reason?

That makes it worse.

Choose love.

Harry Styles. Yeah, he's done some things. The 'people like me' comment wasn't said right. He's dated a few girls, good for him. He potentially queerbates, but what if he doesn't? Whatever, I'm not getting into that right now.

But do you know one of the main messages Harry spreads?

Treat People With Kindness.

Not 'some people'. Not 'a certain group'.

People.

Harry has said in so many different ways, that no matter who you are, who you love, what you look like, you are deserving of love and kindness.

At the end of the day, kindness is all we have. A helping hand to someone in need.

Kindness costs nothing.

#kindness #celebrity culture

[dojae-huh]

Lastart episode 7

I had to watch the episode using VPN (on a Russian site, of all places, why is the site on the restricted list of my provider?), so the video was buffering all the time... urgh, the torture. The buffering got extremely severe during the line up reveal. Took me half of the day to finish watching, lol.

Kassho seems to not want to debut, there was self-sabotaging going on, he didn't improve his facial expression at all. I get it, he is still very young and was only 6 months into training, he was intimidated, and the judges echoed his own opinion.

Sion really lowkey irritates me, heh. He needs less praise and more whip to make him improve. How to describe it. His moves are not pretty, he moves like a potato sack, limbs all over the place, but he shows confidence of "I got it", so he comes off as arrogant, with "I'm really good" attitude to performing. Other trainees lack, but they also excude "I'm amateur, I'm afraid". I'm nots saying he does it intentionally, he is not arrogant in character, he is just not the type to push himself to the extremes like Hyuk or Taeyong are, spend hours before the mirror and scrutinise every detail. He needs to be pushed by someone, said "not enough".

It was nice to see Taeyong in the hyung and mentor role, the side of him that is rarely seen in 127, and certanly not around Doyoung. He impressed me more than the rest of SM idols. He is closer in age to the trainees and he is empathetic, so he came off as very welcoming. He didn't sugarcoat anything and actually chided the guys for not giving their everything, not treating the debut as seriously as neos did in the past. I get him, adding new members is bittersweet for him, he wants to see worthy people.

All vocals have problems with sore throat. Well, what a surprise, am I right? Not teaching support and healthy techniques and then giving all the demanding notes.

Riku is good at dancing. At least the expressive part, he finishes his moves.

Honestly tired of YuSion praise. We get it, they will debut, no need to advertise them for 10 minutes each episode, heh. Yuushi sang his part well though.

Johnny realises that he dances heavy, hm (his height is in the way). He improved after the pandemic. Agree with him about Jungmin. Right now Jungmin is like a sloth. The way Doyoung is noticeably more languid than the rest in BgJ choreo.

For some reason I constantly forget Jungmin is Korean and get surprised he understands Korean so well, lmao.

Well. The final line up reveal. They did a surprise move with the 2nd place, not gonna lie. Not the trainee, but his placement. Way to say "you expected Jungmin or Riku, huh?".

The blooming of that cheeky tiny smile on Riku's face, heh. He expected to debut (with his scores, duh), but he felt very pleased with the rank. You see, Riku realises he needs to fill in the shoes, that's why I like him, he is like Taeyong, he will improve relentlessly, some others don't feel the burden really...

I expected the 7th place by this point. The gut feeling intensified when they said "good at singing". The judges praised Ryo a lot in the last performance. And he is a Japanese. He is really in his growing spurt period, huh? He lost some baby fat even. SM really wanted maknaes in the group.

I felt like Anderson started to lose his chance by the 3d performance, maybe. He differed from others in the way he moved, he didn't blend in. Him not being a Japanese and not knowing the languages didn't help. Welp, it was still a good training camp for him. Coming first among those not accepted is the hardest feeling. When you are at the bottom you feel the gap, accept the difference in skill, when you end up right behind the one who made it, there is just devastation and no consolation. Hm, so he still wants to debut as an idol. He has a high chance with the next SM bg if he won't change his mind. In his case losing here is probably for the best. He won't need to be stuck in Japan.

Jungmin's face in the final line up, when Ryo joined, lmao. His resting face is so funny.

I don't think Ryu will stick with SM, with his brother in the music scene, he will have other connectiosn and opportunities. Somehow I see Minjae switching companies as well. Haruta matches Anderson. If the next SM bg will have more of a "neighbours" concept, he will fit in. I think Heitetsu will leave after his trainee period is over, his personality suits acting path more. SM won't let go of Kassho voluntary, but will he fit the concept of the next bg...

OK, my personal scale from most liked to least liked: Jungmin, Riku, Daeyoung> Ryo, Yuushi, Sakuya>>>Sion.

Sakuya is nice, he will be a good idol, his maknae on top shtick will help during variety, he is just too sweet for me in the face. Ryo is also sweet, but he has some pinch of awkwardness/naivette in him that is more adorable. Energetic destructive puppy vs pronking goat kid kind of difference. Plus SM staff seems to be of a good opinion about his singing (potential). Yuushi is boringly introverted, but he is better than the kids on stage, and his tone of voice is a plus. Him and Riku will be good centres.

Aside from shown skills the top three are attractive to me for their desire to improve, that visible deterimation. I feel I can trust them the unit, with the NCT name. Riku will take the unofficial leadership in no time.

#the even unit

[its-our-paris]

Idk if ur still accepting asks about this but I’m going through the UK Depp v NGN Ltd (The Sun) trial and oh my god. The judge said Heard donating the 7 mil divorce settlement to charity is partly why he believed her 100% bc “her donation of the 7 million US dollars to charity is hardly the act one would expect of a gold-digger.” Which means he pretty much put complete trust in her testimony and evidence she provided, ie. the photos (which have shown to have been tampered in some way or another in the Depp v Heard trial) based on the “fact” that she has no financial incentive to lie and falsely claim abuse. But welllll, we know now that’s not true bc she did not donate all the money to charity and is still lying about it 😳 and this just shows how much blind faith the UK judge put in Heard in that trial and I really wonder how much evidence was not scrutinised properly. I mean, how hard is it to check if she was being truthful about the donations by reaching out to the ACLU or Children’s Hospital or just checking her bank statements? Why just take her at her word? That is truly insane. The odds were stacked against Depp in that trial imo.

Gosh, I see.

You know what, for me it was mostly the photos. To sit there and claim that that one same photo is two different photos, in all seriousness, I mean come on. That insulted my intelligence. And then, the fact that in all her photos of injuries the injuries are so minimal compared to what she is describing that it just seems impossible. With the rings which she even says he *always* wears, he's been punching her in the face so much she doesn't remember how much, but... there is one little crack on her lip and a tiny bit of redness on her cheek? How can that be?

I am actually willing to believe that maybe he did get physical, people do shitty things when they are high and drunk and they might forget about it. It's not impossible. But then why exaggerate her story so that it makes her actual testimony absolutely impossible to believe? Because it's that which makes me doubt her so, so much when, really, a big part of me wants to believe her. I've actually gone and rewatched his testimony and hers again. And again, I'm so torn, because like I said, I don't understand why she or anyone would lie about this and I want to believe her, and the way the Internet is treating her is way out of proportion, and I usually always root for the underdog which at the moment is her... but her story is so hard to actually believe the way she tells it togethger with the evidence she presents.

Like I said, I'm glad I'm not on that jury.

#ask response #depp vs heard

[cardansriddle]

I love your writing so much bestie it's just steals my heart each time, so I drop by to request:

could you write one about Tom Riddle like the reader is a pureblood Slytherin and they like each other but they can't stay together because her family doesn't approve ™️ of him? Her family were forcing her to marry someone(one of Tom's followers lmao) but he protests and they realize the scale of Tom's influence and he manages to win the family over?

(I'm really sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore this if you aren't comfortable)

Tom Riddle- Small, relevant obstacles.

Warnings: None

A/N: First of all, thank you! I'm so happy you like my writing, it warms my heart <3 Secondly, I really loved writing this, and literally wrote it in one sitting which is rare for me.

The first time they met him, you could feel it all going downhill from the first moment.

You had invited Tom to dine with your family, as it was customary for parents to meet the man their daughter was courting, and he had agreed with little hesitance. You had informed him of all he needed to know, and did not worry a lot since you knew Tom had impeccable manners and charming people was as easy as breathing in air for him. You had seen him win over countless pureblood families in different balls and gatherings with his charms, and everyone that had met him, would always leave impressed.

Some would say you had overestimated Tom's abilities, but you knew you had just underestimated your parents' fussiness and paranoia. As their one and only child, they treated you like a fragile gem that could be stolen anytime, and while their concern was heart-warming, their overprotectiveness was irritating. They demanded and accepted only the best for their daughter, and they were not afraid to outright say it.

As you sat with Tom around the dining table, yo could feel your parents' gaze scrutinising every inch of Tom. His appearance, as always, was flawless, with not even a single strand of hair out of place. His suit was fitted against his form and made him appear even more intimidating that he already was.

As dinner got served, small talk was initiated but it was not long before the probing started. "So, Tom, tell us, where do you plan to work?"

As if he expected the question, he put his fork down and jutted out his chin. "Well, I will be working for the ministry and from there I am planning on working my way to the top until I become the Minister of Magic." He replied easily.

Your father rose a brow at his confidence. "You believe you can just become the Minister?"

Tom hid his smile. "That is the plan, yes."

Your mother cleared her throat. "That is quite...ambitious." She threw a look at your father.

You knew what they were thinking, so without any hesitance you spoke up. "Well, he is the Head Boy and the top of his classes. If anyone can be the next Minister, it is him. Even Headmaster Dippet said so."

Your mother looked at you for a moment, before addressing the wizard next to you once again. "Tell us a bit about your family. Where do they work?"

You inhaled sharply at her question, looking at Tom with a worried glance, hoping he would not get angry and storm out of the place. You had informed your parents about the death of Tom's parents and how it was a touchy subject, but it seemed your mother had no regards for neither his feelings or his privacy.

Your hand dropped under the table to find Tom's, and your fingers laced through his, providing some sense of comfort to him.

To his credit, he did not seem fazed by the question, and even if he was, he hid it well. "My parents are dead, ma'am. I am afraid I do not know much about them." He replied and his fingers squeezed your hand.

"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully, picking up her glass of wine and bringing it to her rouge lips. You glared at her darkly, wishing you could scream at her.

Your father took the opportunity to test him. "Tom, would you like some wine?"

He shook his head, denying the offer politely. "I do not drink." He lied easily.

"You know, I have never seen or heard of your family name. Are you not pureblooded?"

Shit.

"Father—" You began but he held up a hand, gesturing for you to quiet down. You shut your mouth helplessly.

Tom's hold on your hand became painfully tight, and you resisted the urge to grimace.

"No. I am a halfblood." He said this as if the mere reminder of the word made him nauseous, and it probably did.

Your father leaned back in his chair, as if he already knew what he needed to know. "I see." He simply said, but you knew instantly he had decided that Tom was not worth it. They did not say it, but it was written all over their face.

It was only after the torturous dinner was over and Tom left the mansion, that your parents spoke their opinion.

"What were you thinking by courting a halfblood? Especially one with no inheritance or money! Have you lost your mind? He has no place in our society, no fortune to support you with." Your mother scolded disapprovingly. "I thought you knew better than to fall for a pretty face." She snapped and your father put a hand on her back to calm her.

"Your mother is right, dear. You would be better off with Orion Lestrange. Your mother and I had been thinking, and we think he is a perfect match for you. The other day his parents told us how he had taken a liking to you. It would be a powerful union of two influential families." He revealed, and even though his tone was far softer, his words were worse.

Your hands tightened into fists, and you could barely hold in your anger. "You...how can you say that?! I do not even like Lestrange, he is horrible!" Your voice rose with each exclamation. "Did you even consider how I would feel about this arrangement? Or you only cared about your reputation and connections? I will never marry Lestrange! And I will never forgive you if you force me into it."

They both looked astonished at your outburst and blatant refusal. You had always been obedient and had always been on your best behaviour. However, they had crossed a line by completely disregarding your personal feelings and trying to arrange a marriage between you and a person you despised.

"I will not hear any of this. Do not argue with us."

You huffed. "Do you even know who Tom is? He is the heir—"

Your father shook his head in frustration. "We do not care who he is. He has no title and no reputation. All we care about is that he is not suitable for you. This discussion is over." He said sharply, and you had never seen him act so cold.

Without looking back, you ran into your room, slammed the door shut and let the tears run down your face.

It was at the ball next day when you saw him again, looking frighteningly beautiful in his black suit. His hair was pushed back, highlighting his prominent features and the sharp jawline. The smile that blossomed on your face was instant. You held your gown so you could move easier, and started making your way towards him.

"Tom!"

His head turned towards you and the dark expression on his face softened upon seeing you. When you halted in front of him, his lips curled into his signature smirk. "Hello."

Your smile wavered as you remembered last evening. "I- I'm really sorry about last night. I did not know they would be so—"

"Don't." He cut you off sharply. "It is not your fault." He said, and you could sense something was off. Maybe he did not want to admit it, but perhaps your parents' poor treatment did affect him.

"I tried to talk some sense into them but they kept talking about this nonsense on how I would have to marry Orion Lestrange just because he h—"

For the second time tonight, he cut you off. His eyes darkened, and you swore they flashed red for the briefest of moments. "What the fuck did you just say? You are not marrying anyone. Not as long as you are mine."

Your heartbeat was so fast you were afraid it was going to shatter your ribcage. Perhaps it was the outright admission of you being his, or maybe it was from the fear of not knowing what he would do to Orion Lestrange, but either way, you knew there was no way you were going to end up with anyone but him.

He clenched his jaw as he pondered over something before he excused himself. I watched him walk away without any protests, and saw him approach Orion Lestrange with a murderous look. He tilted his head to the right, signalling to Orion to come to him and when he did, Tom started speaking. I could not make out what he was saying, but from Orion's weakening posture and the tremble in his hands, it was easy to guess that Tom was making very dark promises. Lestrange’s eyes found yours across the bustling ballroom, and he quickly averted them elsewhere, as if a mere glance at me would get him killed.

Which probably would.

He nodded hastily when Tom was done, and he quickly hurried away to find his parents.

"Oh there you are, dear!" Your mother's voice caused you to break your stare from him, and you turned around to see your parents and...Slughorn. "Professor Slughorn was just telling us about how gifted you are at potions."

Slughorn beamed at you. "She is one talented witch, I am telling you. She is even almost as good as Tom I would say! Ah, that boy, he is a genius." The man rambled away. Then as if remembering we were there, he looked at us. "Have you ever met him? He is a delight!" He smiled brightly, turning around and trying to spot the wizard amongst the crowd.

Your father grimaced at the mention of the boy, feeling uncomfortable. "Is he not a halfblood?"

The question threw the Professor off and he turned his head so fast you were surprised it didn't snap. "A halfblood? Maybe but that boy is the heir of Slytherin himself! Any trace of muggle blood is irrelevant if you consider his ancestry! Perhaps that is why he is so brilliant..." He began to mull over his newfound theory, but the only thing you could focus on was the shocked expression on both of your parents' faces.

"The heir of Slytherin..?" Your mother asked hesitantly, as if she could not believe what she was hearing. You smiled smugly, enjoying their discomfort.

"I tried to tell you." You shrugged.

Slughorn then spotted Tom and he gasped in surprise "Would you look at that! Tom is speaking with the Minister! That boy...he is going places." He sighed, watching with adoration as his star student charmed the Minister. Slughorn excused himself, muttering something about wanting to introduce himself to the Minister and wondering if he would come to one his dinner parties.

Your mother sighed, and you could detect both of your parents' guilt, although it did nothing to soothe the hurt that they had caused. "We were speaking with Orion's parents earlier when the boy came looking panicked and announced he would not dare marry you because you were already with Tom. I suppose he has quite the influence over people."

You looked at your parents, smirking in triumph. "I tried to tell you he was not just a nobody. He has a name, a reputation and a future. If only you would listen to me instead of trying to decide my life for me, this would not have happened."

You knew these small yet significant things changed their perception, and you had a feeling they would grow to like Tom after some time. The mere thought made you happy and you knew this was another obstacle that you and Tom overcome together easily.

With a grin, you turned around only to find Tom staring at you and he smiled.

And his smile was dark but very telling.

#tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle angst #tom riddle fluff #harry potter #slytherin

[paper-gold-theories]

Hero Flug AU (The Difference Between Me and You)

Or how did GoldHeart convince Flug to be a Hero (based on the Wanda and Dr Strange meme)

Flug decides to become a hero after he realised that Villains and Heroes are not so different. Both do morally questionable and unethical things. The main difference is how they are viewed by the public.

GoldHeart believes it is not what you do, it is how you present yourself and make people feel that will make you be perceived as a hero. That is how he runs things in his superhero club, Golden Rule and P.E.A.C.E.

So Flug can do all his Mad Science Experiments and Inventions without being scrutinised but instead applauded by the public if presented in the right way.

There is also lot of stability in being a hero: GoldHeart is willing to give him everything he wants (a lab, resources for his scientific endeavours, and all the planes he wants to collect) in order to help him end villainy, so Flug doesn’t have to resort to crime and stealing to get what he wants.

Flug has always been treated badly, underestimated, and bullied by both Villains and Heroes, at least as a Hero he can still do what he wants but be on the winning side for once, and doesn’t have to worry about getting arrested.

(Hero Flug AU Summary: Flug didn’t manage to escape on an ominous aircraft after his battle with GoldHeart and work for BlackHat. GoldHeart convinces him to "reform and become a Hero)

#villainous #dr flug #goldheart #dr kenning flugslys #villainous au #villainous goldheart #HeroFlugAU #villanos #gold heart #villainous fanfic #dr flug and goldheart #villainous fanart #villainous headcanons #dr strange #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #meme

[p---ink]

If I Only Knew Your Name

Author's Note: Hello :) I've finally gotten around to posting this one, and i've got to say...this is my favorite piece thus far...which is saying a lot since I literally hated it a few days ago (@cocoamoonmalfoy I don't hate it anymore, friend. You were right). Nevertheless I'm in love with it. Think of this Loki as a variant of him and Tom Hiddleston though, because he is kind of soft in this :( Also take a drink every time I say love or soft. You'll get fucked up. Also, also, Loki being the God of Mischief in this is kind of ambiguous. Up to your decision if he is or not.

Summary: After she's convinced him that fate wants them together for the night, Loki agrees to humor the girl by playing the role of her true love. Only after their night of passion does he realize that all he wants is to be by her side for the rest of his years. But there are a few problems: he doesn't know her name, and she's gone before he can ask.

Pairings: Loki x black!brown!reader

Warnings: Fluff (no seriously you might die of gushiness and cringe), a smidgeon of angst, and a smidgeon of smut. There are also small mentions of serpents.

Playlist here

Disclaimer: I made the header, but not the gif and pictures. I'm not sure who the pictures and borders belong too, but the gif was made by @illluminate-my-heart

If you asked him to explain how he always felt her before he saw her, he wouldn’t be able to.

It wasn’t in the sense that she was looming over him in the physical way; it was more like her presence took up whatever space she occupied and there was no corner to escape to. She didn’t even have to say a word to achieve this.

She hadn't said a word to him, when they briefly shared a space on the bus earlier that morning. Sitting opposite of him, he couldn't help but focus on the subtle hum that occupied her throat, and the gentle pats she gave her thighs. They calmed him amidst the chaos that was their city’s public transit. The soft lilt of her hum may have been what drew him in, but the dim glint in her eyes is what made him stay.

Though the melody in her tune contained delight, he knew better than to trust its persuasion. The pained far-away gaze she held as she focused on the world outside passing her by, looked almost identical to the one he saw in his mirror every morning.

When their line of sight connected for a second, it was then that he realized how pretty she was. But her stop came.

Their paths crossed yet again that same morning. Hunched over as he surveyed the sugary treats, the sweet scent he inhaled couldn't have come from the raspberry danishes he was eyeing. The smell of jasmine mixed with her body's chemistry wafted through the air on a gentle breeze as she passed him by. He managed to catch a glimpse of her through a glare on the pastry display. She tossed him a quick bewildered expression over her shoulder, before the jingle of the shop's bells reached his ears.

Opportunity passed him, before he even knew opportunity was there.

There was no humming like there was on the bus, nor any scents like the ones in the bakery that could alert him of her presence. This time it was just a feeling. Perhaps from now knowing the difference between a room with her in it, and the feelings he failed to experience in a room with her absence .

They connected immediately upon her entrance. And this time he didn't fold. Still no words were said to him, as she granted him the gifts of her scrutinising stare, from across the room.

They were among the few to occupy the bar, the night still far too young for a crowd. But even if there was one, Loki knew that he'd be able to seek her out of it.

Three times now it was that he saw her today. Three times that he saw her see him.

His heart stuttered at seeing the pretty stranger smile his way. He managed to return the gesture, before his eyes fell back down to his drink. He took a sip of it, and stood, eyes climbing back up to connect with hers, but she was gone. Her nasty habit of disappearing was not lost on him.

Falling back into his seat, he felt disappointment sinking in when he came up with nothing, after scanning the side of the room she was just on.

"Are you following me?" His head whipped towards the sound. There she now sat on the other side of him.

Face softening as excitement swept over his chest, Loki said "No."

"Then this is fate."

"I'm sorry?" The glimmer in his eyes matched the twinkle in her own. He was too busy focusing on that, to process what her mouth was saying.

"It's fate." She repeated, "This is our third and ½ time crossing paths today."

"And ½?"

"Yes! I saw you struggling to lose a cat, while I was on an afternoon jog." Embarrassment flooded his cheeks at her recount. The man was quick to adorn a snake around his neck, but cats were his bane. "You hadn't seen me, which is why I don't fully count it."

"I see." And as if just remembering, his brows threaded together as he asked, "And what's this about fate?” before following his question with a sip of bourbon, eyes never leaving hers in fear that she’d disappear again.

"Fate wants us to be in love tonight."

Loki nearly choked on his drink. "I beg your pardon?" He asked, reaching for a napkin to clean his chin.

"It's clear that this is the workings of the universe. You're probably my soulmate."

She must lack sense. He kept that thought to himself. A pretty woman she was, but her rationale was poorly developed. And it was such a shame. Still, he humoured her. "Oh? And have you always imagined uniting with your soulmate in a bar?"

"Of course not. It goes without saying that I don't believe you're actually my soulmate; but you will be excellent practice for the real thing."

"Ouch." He says, mostly feigning hurt. "Where would you meet the real one?"

Her elbow slid against the bar's ledge, as it supported the weight of her chin. "Hmm." She hummed, pretending to really think about it. "Maybe we'd accidentally bump our shopping carts in a grocery store. They’d notice that the sudden crash gave me a fright, and offer to pay for my groceries as a form of apology. Or perhaps we'd both reach for the same book on a shelf," she held a hand out in front of her as she imagined the scene, "our fingers would briefly touch and we'd see the sparks go off in each other's eyes. Mayhaps we debate about the same work of art in a museum. They will say something to contrast my own opinion, but we'll lose our words when we finally realize that we were saying the same thing all along."

She definitely lacks sense. "You have quite the active imagination." He told her, but she prattled on as if she hadn't noticed the gibe disguised compliment.

"No. No." She said, wagging her finger, "My life's love and I will meet on a park's bench. We won't notice each other at first encounter, because we'll be too busy admiring the sunset. It's like poetry the whole thing, really. Because of course the sunset has to be symbolic of something."

She hesitated, as she thought. "Ah" She finally realized, "two worlds colliding, just like my lover and I; I will be the day, and they the night. But we'll meet and create something so beautiful. Something that by normal circumstance shouldn't make sense, but just does."

She had a way with words. They flowed from her tongue so sweetly that Loki found himself invested in her fantasy. Still very skeptical, but invested. "How will you two notice each other?"

She looks at him again and tells him that "we'll both spout some quote from an old poem about the horizon. Then, our necks will snap to the direction that the words came from, And we'll notice each other for the first time."

"What will you say?" He asks, nearly on the edge of his seat.

"They will be the first to speak. They'll introduce themselves. Then they'll say it's nice to meet me. Then they'll say something cheesy like, "I've been searching for you, for a lifetime."

Now she was losing him. "And they'll know this, how? Solely by gazing into your eyes? That's a bit shallow don't you think?"

"Yes a bit, but that's how love at first sight works, Stranger." She stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in their world. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that?"

Loki, unable to contain his distaste any longer, scoffs. "Love at first sight doesn't exist." He informs her. "What you describe is called infatuation."

"But Stranger, this is love at first sight!" The word love was very dramatic. She said it with her chest, smiling as it fluttered past her lips. Her eyes were glazed over with dreams. Dreams that almost made him gag.

"This isn't some chance encounter at a bar, or some dude I'll meet on tinder. This is the one that will make the frogs make sense. It's the one that most people never have the chance to meet. They'll be the one that was made perfectly for me. Of course our first encounter will be magical. Because I'll just know that they're the one, and they'll know I am too. It will happen at once. "

As he shakes his head, as if to free himself from her nonsensical logic, Loki says, "Okay okay. When your life's love, as you call them, turns to you and says "I've been searching for you for what feels like a lifetime”—"

“—For a lifetime." She corrects.

"What did I say?"

“For what feels like a lifetime.'" She mocked.

"The details don't matter."

"They do! ”

““I've been searching for you, for a lifetime” When they say this to you, what will you say?"

"I'll say your search ends here. Then I'll say my name. Then our lives together will finally begin."

"What? No happily ever after?" His smirk is teasing, but he means for it to be endearing.

"Save your disappointment, Stranger. We both know you don't believe in those."

Hands barely lifting from the bar as he defends his chest, Loki confesses, "Guilty. But I'm surprised that you don't. You've found your true love, at this park, watching this sunset, and you fall in love in an instant. And you're telling me that your happy ending isn't immediate."

"Yes, that's precisely what I'm telling you. That's not how love works."

"Enlighten me on how love works, Stranger." His body turned to hers, as he gave her his full attention now.

She did the same, knees falling between his as she swivelled on her stool, "Okay it's a cycle of both heartbreak and happiness, just like life is leading up to that point. Doesn't stop just because you find your partner. But I will say that if they’re the right ones  they will make it easier."

He carefully studied her face as he asked, "Heartbreak?"

"Yes. They will break my heart." She said this as if it was set in stone.

"But I thought they were your true love. They're the ones that make the others make sense. They're the ones you've kissed frog after frog over, in order to find."

"And that gives them the purchase to hurt me even more. But it's through that, you experience happiness and joy. Then you can truly appreciate them. We're going to experience trials and tribulations. We'll change a thousand times over the course of being together. But we'll steadily grow with each other, never apart. I'll always choose them, and they'll always choose me, even when it feels like our love is waning. We'll remember why we fell in love in the first place. And we'll fall in love, over and over again until we die. Then hopefully I'll find them in the next lifetime to start the process over again."

It was a moment before he spoke again, as he mulled her words over. "That doesn't quite sound like the fantasy you painted earlier." It sounds quite nice.

"It's how I truly feel. My fantasy just gets me through the day."

He believed her, when her head dropped and the sound of music left her voice. It had been the second time since meeting that he found her relatable.

She had long abandoned his eyes, focusing solely on picking at the chipped yellow paint on her nails.

Loki had already decided that this fate business was all a guise. She just wanted a distraction, and he was the easiest person she thought to seek it from.

It hurt him to think like this. To imagine his purpose only being to serve another. But something about The Stranger made his heart ache. Something about The Stranger made him feel that her heart ached the same.

"If I'm to play the part of your lover" He couldn’t help but smile at the way she perked up at his words, "Then our introductions are in order. I’m—"

She all but shouted, “—No!"

"No?"

"Don't tell me your name! It’ll ruin the magic. I want you to be exactly who I think you to be in my head."

"And something as simple as a name could ruin that?"

"No, I guess. Not necessarily. But names form attachments. They encourage hope. They invite what-if's. Years from now when I look across the table at another, finding myself content, I will think of you, Tom—because you just look like a Tom," she rambled that last bit to herself, " and wonder if you could have made me happier."

"You have quite the active imagination, Stranger." He repeated once more.

“I heard you the first time! I just mean to say that when I recall this memory decades from now...I only want it to be a good one. And yes, I may long for this night and you, just the same as I would if I knew your name. But if you give me that name Dearest Stranger, I'll have no choice but to seek you out after it all ends."

"Fair enough, I suppose." He agreed, not thinking very much of her conditions. "Then what should I call you? I very well cannot go on calling you, Stranger."

"What would you call your life's love?"

"What would you want me to call them?"

"You can call me Mrs. Darcy."

"You will never hear me utter those words."

Her laugh was airy and light as it escaped her. He felt himself growing warm at the sound. "It was worth a try." She confessed. "Call me beautiful. My Flower. Darling.. I don't know, call me whatever the hell fits in the moment."

"Very well then, Darling." He returned a flirty grin that matched her coy one, "And what will you call me?"

"Must I do all of the work, Stranger?" She had taken the liberty to take a sip of his drink.

"This is your idea, afterall." He stated, eyes following her movements.

"Can I call you...My Love?" She asked, her eyes flitting up to meet his.

Dangerously fluid it was, the way the words rolled off her tongue. His skin all of a sudden felt like it didn't quite fit right, as it prickled and grew warm; and he was suddenly very aware of every strand of hair on his head, as they gently poked at his scalp. "If you wish." He managed, voice coming out a lot lower, a lot shakier than he intended. But if Darling noticed, she didn't let on to the fact.

Clearing his throat, he finally began again, "So. We've now fallen in love. We've now introduced ourselves to each other. Where do our lives begin from here?"

"I'm glad you asked!"

"Okay." Loki started, as he scanned his surroundings slowly. "My curiosity is piqued. What could we possibly be doing here?"

Here, was a small store a few minutes walking distance away from the bar. Not quite small enough to be considered a convenience store, but entirely too small to compare the size to that of a chain like Walmart or even a Whole Foods Market.

"Well I have to prove that you're my soulmate."

"What?" He feigned, grasping his chest, as if to say I do beg your pardon in a posh British way. "I thought you already fell in love with me."

"I did. But see my love, I fall very easily. I need to know if this is true love, or my heart getting me into more trouble."

"And how does this farmer's market come into play? Surely you cannot mean to recreate your little trolley experiment? It will not be authentic." He informed her, as she grabbed a cart.

"No, I have something else in mind." She told him, pulling it over to him. "Just do your shopping as normal."

And though he sighed, he did as she wished. But what he didn't expect was for her to remain glued to his side while he caroused back and forth between the aisles, filling his cart with a week's worth of groceries. It felt odd to have someone breathing down your neck while you shopped, grimacing and sneering at some of the things you enjoyed eating. Seriously, what the hell was her issue? Why was she glaring at his avocados?

Loki slowly picked up a cluster of green onions glancing at her from the side, before finally asking, “Do you not like anything I pick?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You keep scowling at my groceries!”

And then she smiled a smile so big, he would have thought it was adorable if he didn’t find it so terrifying. “I’m just fucking with you.”

He found her odd.

“Shouldn’t we be getting to know each other?” She asked, breaking his thoughts.

And he replied, “What would you like to know?”

“Got any siblings? DUI’s? Ooo what’s your favourite colour?”

“Two siblings, no DUI”s, and green.” Loki told her, knocking a box of penne pasta into the buggy.

A few seconds of silence went by before she asked, “Well aren’t you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is?”

“It’s obviously—” The next aisle over, a glass shattered causing a lady to yell out “Clean up on Aisle three”, at the same time that Loki was guessing The Stranger’s favourite colour. But she heard him all the same.

“How’d you know that?” She asked, wearing her confusion.

“Your purse, phone case, and anklet is that color. Also one of your fingernails, and the scrunchie you had on your wrist this morning. And finally you gravitate to that colour packaging on every aisle.” He absentmindedly confessed, as he examined a tiny jar of bay leaves.

“Oh.” She said, her brows furrowing as she averted her gaze.

His eyes widened as he realized people don’t normally pay that much attention to others. At least they don’t call it out.. “I’m sorry. That must seem so odd. It’s just that I'm very observant sometimes.”

“No, it's fine! It’s just, you ruined my pickup line, that's all.”

“My apologies. Go on, say it.”

“No, it's too late. The moment has passed.”

“Please! Humor me.” Please distract me from my embarrassment.

“Okay.” She hesitantly started. “...I was gonna say that my favourite color is whatever color your eyes are at the moment. So...it’d be emerald right now. But earlier in the bar I’d have said cyan. And on the bus they were seafoam green. Because it depends on the light, and what you’re wearing.”

And then it was his turn to be flustered. He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry for ruining your moment.”

“No big deal.” She informed him, pursing her lips and letting silence finally befall them.

Loki’s cheeks threatened to deepen in shade. Apparently the stranger had been watching him, no, was studying him, too. Long enough to decide on the shade of green his eyes were throughout different moments of the day. She wasn’t as out of touch or in the clouds as he previously thought.

He found her oddly charming.

It stayed quiet for the remainder of his shopping.

“I’m finished.” He finally stated, after tossing the last item in. It didn't take long to shop, since the market's selection wasn't a lot to choose from.

He tried to see what she saw as she surveyed the cart's contents, but all he came up with was how unhealthy organic wheat thins really were. “You’re finished?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“But where are your guilty pleasures?"

He pointed to them, wearing a face as if to question her sanity, "Can you not see the grapes and nuts?" They were at the forefront of the cart, as visible as day. She saw him put them in!

"You call these sweets?"

"Nature's candy. Plus the other stuff is just as good as poisonous. I'd never put it in my body"

"You were at a bakery this morning!" She cried, questioning his sanity as well.

"I just wanted to admire the rows of pastries. I like the many colors and textures."

"So you go in there to look and not buy?"

"We're not on that! What does my grocery list tell you?"

She touched reality again and confessed "I was actually thinking about that as you were doing your shopping. You see my logic was that if you had a lot of sugary items in your cart, you were a secretly sweet person. Salty: mean. Bland: boring. Savoury: sexy. You get the idea? But then I thought that none of that made sense, so we're at a loss and this was a bust."

"Really? And you couldn't have told me that sooner? I’m not in need of any of this, I’ve already done my shopping for the week." Loki looked back down at his cart, and stood awkwardly for a moment before he decided to start putting the items back.

"Wait? You're gonna put all of this back."

"Wouldn't not doing so make a service worker's job harder?” He asked, shoving his tomato paste back into its place.  “My laziness will not contribute to that. I'm not a mon—“ He stopped mid-word when he noticed she had trouble containing a mischievous smirk. “Do not tell me that was your little test."

"Then I will tell you that you passed it."

Loki rolled his eyes at himself for falling for it, but continued reshelving his groceries. He halted, and so did she when their attention was called to a scene playing out in front of them. A stockier gentlemen, followed by a skinny shorter one whirred passed them to the front of the store, bits of their heated discussion carrying through the air.

"It's only two more hours until we close. You're seriously going to leave me here with all of this? Come on Jace, I need you. Who's going to man the registers and do restocks in between customers while I work on schedules?"

"I'm sorry Larry. I've already been here for twelve hours. I'm exhausted, and my babysitter has school in the—“

“—You think I don't have it hard. I have to be right back here, bright and early to unload a truck. Not to mention the owner is stopping by at 11. Dude, I'm all alone here. Everyone else has bailed on me"

"I wonder why." Loki heard the stranger mutter under her breath.

"I can't stay, I'm sorry."

"If you leave, I'll have no choice but to fire you."

His brows furrowed as he thought, Seriously, Larry?

"Seriously Larry?”  "Are you serious Larry?!" The Stranger whispered at the same time that Jace cried.

"I wasn't even supposed to come in today! I missed my daughter's birthday last week to be here. That's how much I need the money."

"You're leaving me with no choice man. Make your decision."

And as he did this, the stranger turned back to Loki, face contorted in disgust as if to say Can you believe this shit? Clearly this was bothering her too.

"Fuck this." Jace finally said.

Loki watched his clammy fingers fumbling to find the magnet on his shirt, before ripping it off and placing it on the conveyor belt. He barely gave the automatic doors enough time to open, before he was storming out of them.

"Where are you going?" Loki asked The Stranger, when her feet began to carry her into view.

"I'll be back." She told him, just before she approached the dick. "Larry." He heard her state, as if she personally knew the man. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, not that it was very well concealed in the first place, but that's such a bullshit reason to fire someone."

"Ma'am, this isn't any of your concern."

"It became my concern, when you broadcasted it for all to see."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I have full right to fire that employee. He was 20 minutes late this morning, and was a no-call no-show once since he started working here two years ago."

"Two years? He's been here for two years and was a no-call no-show, once? Did he give you a reason? I'm sure his reason for being late this morning was because he wasn't even on the schedule today."

Loki listened to Larry say nothing back to her retort.

"God forbid he has a life going on outside of this place! He can't dedicate himself entirely to this store. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with people who do that, but it seems that even you haven't. Seeing as you were about to pin all of the work you're supposed to do onto him, while you went to perform the "oh-so-tedious" task of creating a schedule safely tucked in the back, conveniently away from all of the chaos."

Her silver tongue, whipped through the air so fast, Loki imagined how greedy her lungs were right now.

Larry ignored her, turning his back as he straightened the end-caps behind his register. "He missed his daughter's birthday, for fucksake Larry!"

"Are you going to buy something?" He asked.

"You should feel bad!" She countered.

"I don't. And I also don't have to take this. Get out."

"What?"

"Are you hard of hearing? Leave. You're not welcome here." He could tell The Stranger didn't like that. Not that he did eith—

"Fine!" She shouted, then Loki saw an entire boxful of snickers fly into the air like confetti. "I would say have Jace clean this up, but it looks like this mess is all for you."

He chuckled to himself, head tilting to the side as he surveyed the spectacle transpiring before him. Oh no. She's adorable.

When Larry began personally escorting her out, after she grabbed another handful of candy, (this time kinder joy eggs) and launched them into the air as hard as she could, Loki's feet began moving on their own.

"Leave—" CRASH!

He saw their shoulders violently shoot upwards, heads snapping to the direction of where the sound came from, as their eyes landed on the mess that had just spawned onto the ground beside them. Cereal boxes exploded from the weight landing on them. Shards of shattered glass fusing with pickles, tomato sauce, peanut butter slowly decorating the floor. Marbles of candy clicking and rolling everywhere, landing near their feet. There was a plethora of different messes going on right now. Newly bruised bananas, crushed bread, spilled milk—oh no Larry was about to cry.

Then they turned their heads to the opposite direction of the mess, in search of the cause. Just in time to see Loki appearing from behind a few remaining shelves on the other side, hands gripping his cart. Bewildered look of expression plastered on his face. His brows were furrowed, and his lips folded in on each other as if to be in casual reflection, instead of horror over the disaster before him.

"Clean up on aisle— one, two," he whispered the numbers to himself before he told Larry,, "all of them."

“Aren’t you the one who didn’t want to make a service worker’s job harder? My friend, I'm afraid you just made his job hell!” She teased.

"I wouldn't have done it if he wasn't behaving like such an ass. Also, his grip on your arm, even I wouldn't grab a lady like that."

She ignored him, eyes lighting up as she exclaimed, ”Gosh I've never seen someone's face turn so red! He looked like an angry red cock!"

He ignored her, eyes clouding over as he sighed, “They had these fascinating little shrink-wrapped rice balls with seaweed faces. I've not seen them anywhere else." He said solemnly, realising that he’d probably never see them again.

"Clean up on aisle...all of them" she said in the best impression she could of him. "That was simply brilliant!" She beamed, grasping his sleeve as they strolled the strip of stores. He could just barely contain the curl of his lip at the compliment. Then when the weight of what he just did settled in, his smile diminished completely.

"I think I may have been rash. Maybe Larry didn't deserve that. Not to mention I probably just made a lot of innocent people suffer, just to piss off one person. You don’t know me, but this isn’t unlike me. I’ve tried to change recently, but I just made things worse. Just like I always do.”

It was then that the girl stopped joking and finally acknowledged his words. She said this when she thought them over carefully:

"I won't tell you to not show remorse for your actions; in fact you should, it means you're at least half-way decent. But I will say you're not all bad. Yes, the store owner will probably lose a pretty penny repairing the damages and hiring someone to clean it up. But at least when Jace, and the other people who walked out on Larry hear about it tomorrow, it will bring a smile to their faces. You did something they wished they could. And most importantly, you defended me.” She joked, but when Loki didn’t laugh, she kept going.

“Maybe Larry didn't deserve that. But we know at least a small part of him did. And that small part will think twice in the future before he behaves like an ass. Who knows if he even gets fired…well he will unless he comes up with a good excuse on why everyone quit on him—I’m getting off topic! This doesn't mean you should smash the windows of every person who slightly does you wrong. No never that. But your intent was good. And you meant good. And though your consequences weren’t all good, some of it was. So you take care with how you speak of yourself.”

“When I was a bad person I thought I was good. I thought that the things I did were good. So the whole intent over consequences philosophy doesn’t hold weight.”

“Did you really think you were doing the right things when you were a “bad” person?”

Loki had to really think about that. Sure, maybe he had to lie to himself a little and say that him being selfish was for the greater good, but he knew it really wasn’t.

“I’m not saying consequences don’t matter. They do. But sometimes we do good things that turn out to have bad consequences. Sometimes bad things we do, turn out good for everyone else. The world isn’t all black and white. So yes you did a bad thing back there. But you were an ass to an ass who was an ass to everyone else around him. And if he get’s fired tomorrow, there’s a chance that the one who replaces him won’t be an ass!”

“Okay fine! I suppose that makes me feel a little better.” It actually made him feel a lot better, but he wasn’t gonna just tell her that. ”It’s really a shame though." He expressed, after a moment of comfortable silence. "They were much closer to my apartment than Harris Teeters."

"When he gets fired in the morning, we—you'll be able to go back." She promised him. Loki didn't have much time to focus on her correction, because they pulled to a stop as she said, "We're here!"

It was a storefront nestled away in between a tea cafe and floral shop.

The Nook was sprawled across the glass in white letters, and the two words were separated by dark green double doors. A forest green awning, that matched the entrance, sheltered the warm yellow light that the shop emitted; and red and yellow potted flowers, that Loki imagined came from next door, were placed all around the store.

"You do like to read, don't you?" she asked, pulling him into the quaint little place.

"There's hardly a moment in my free time where there isn't a book in my hand."

"Good. I'm going to figure out which one is your favorite." She told him, spinning on her soles as she capered her way over to the non-fiction section, Loki in tow behind her.

Immediately she pulled out a self-help book titled, How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie. "It's this one isn't it?" A small smile pulled at her lips, as glee filled her eyes.

"No." He simply stated. He had read the book. But it wasn't his favourite...that might have been in part to it not working.

"I know it's this. You've just barely passed for human, and were it not for your very convincing fleshy vessel, I'd think you were an alien of some sorts." A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson was in her hands. "Why not read a book that sums up all of human knowledge?"

Air passed through his nose, and a grin glued itself to his face, but again he said no. But she was damn good at figuring out the books he had read so far.

She traveled to the medical section, while Loki kept a small distance and occupied himself with a potential book of interest. He could hear her dropping books and whispering "I'm sorry’s" to those she disturbed during her intense search.

Coming back before he knew it, she placed Atlas of Human Anatomy, by Frank H. Netter, on top of the book in his hand. That same playful expression on her face, as he read the title. "And again, I call back my argument about you being alien. This time, with the fact that you study our movements carefully to mimic how you think humans behave."

"Au contraire, my dear. I happen to be very well-versed in anatomy." He told her, eyes leaving their spot from the cover, to read her instead. "On anatomy, below anatomy, behind anatomy, one could say I'm an expert."

This time a mischievous smirk grew on his face, as he watched her roll her eyes and try to suppress her own grin.

Instead of acknowledging his quip though, the girl stole the book from his hands to replace it back into its home, before spinning off again. "Do you enjoy the classics, my love?" She said over her shoulders as she began walking away.

He quickly put the book in his hands down, and followed her when she showed no sign of slowing. "Classics, the criminally undervalued, and all those in between."

Going to the very small classics section that was settled in the back of the store, she pulled every classic she could think of him enjoying. "You just look like you've stepped out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale." She told him, caressing the spines of books as she floated past the shelves. "Tell me my love," She suddenly stopped, and turned to him, peering at him through a hole on the other side of the bookcase. "Is there a beating heart, thumping beneath your floorboards?"

"The only heart I wish to possess is your own, my darling." He confessed. And after a beat, she broke out into giggles.

"I can imagine that sounded much better in your head." She told him, as he rejoined her on the side she stood on.

"Can you fault me for trying?"

"I can only commend you for it. At least you made me laugh."

That is enough.

He watched her, and concluded that she was really trying hard with her guesses this time. Thumb caressing the bottom of her chin, she turned back and forth between the columns as she thought carefully about the next title she was to pull. Finally, nimble fingers landed on Dracula by Bram Stoker.

"Might I ask, why all of your suggestions feature a male author?"

"Because like them, you were written by a man."

Her back, and the backs of her arms, pressed gently against the shelves, as he advanced towards her. He could still make out that faint scent of jasmine—no, they were orchids and berries that he smelled before, on her neck. Instead of hums however, a sharp inhale was the sound that escaped her. Ending her torture, though it would begin his own, he reached a hand over her head, and passed her his favorite book, before ridding himself of closeness to her.

"What does this say about me?" He asked. And though he wasn't as close, the small aisle still deemed him very close, which he decided he liked.

He didn't miss the slow decline of her collarbone, as her breathing steadied. How could he? The apex of her neck glistened due to her dewy skin. It was delicious. Looking down, he could almost see her trying to overcome her fluster as she stammered the title aloud. "Frank—Frankenstein."

"Yes. And it was written by a woman. Just like me."

It didn't take long for her to find her wit again. She straightened herself out and stated, "This book, and that statement, tells me you have daddy issues."

His mouth and eyebrows quirked as he shrugged and said ”You're not wr—"

“—And you have some issues with self-acceptance. You often feel like a social pariah. Unworthy of love. And like me, you also want to find—or in Frankenstein's monster's case, create your other half. Only to lose hope when you feel you'll never have them."

Loki didn’t like that. Didn’t like that she could read him without a stutter, based on a fucking book. ”And what of you, darling? Who is your favorite author?” He asked her, tone dry.

"I'm trying to prove if you're my soulmate, not the other way around."

"If I have to submit myself to your games, it's only fair that you participate in them as well."

"Fine. Take your time guess—."

“—In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." Loki took a step closer and asked, "Or would you prefer the movie's adaptation?...you have bewitched me body and soul. And I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on."

And then a part of him was about to tell her that her favorite book made her predictable which rendered her painfully ordinary  just to hurt her pride like she had hurt his. But when she asked, "You've memorized them?" His words fell short. She looked at him as if he was the most interesting book in the entire store. Amazed by his intelligence. By him.

He recomposed himself.

"I'm partial to Austen. I even partake in my fair share of Christie, and I absolutely devour the words of Angelou." He began to quote Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman" when the girl's silence answered him, carefully selecting an excerpt from the poem that he thought suited her well.

"Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them,

They say they still can't see.

I say,"

"It's in the arch of my back," His fingers trailed the arch in her back.

"The sun of my smile," He said, other hand going to frame her chin.

"The ride of my breasts," That same hand, fell down her chest, just short of her breasts

"The grace of your style." He said, bending the words of the poem, as it "suddenly" became about her.

"You're a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman, that's—"

“—Not the words of the poem." She said, finally breaking herself free of his spell. "And I'm not surprised you know I like Austen: I did ask you to call me Mrs. Darcy earlier this evening."

"The points do not stem from guessing your favorite author correctly. Should I not be rewarded from listening and remembering small details about you?"

"Nope. That wasn't the point of the game. You've just proved to have an excellent memory so remembering one little detail that I said earlier in the evening is like child's play to you.” She rushed out, before he could even blink

Then after slipping from beneath his cage she said, ”And besides, I do love Pride and Prejudice. But it is not my favorite book: so since I couldn't guess yours, and you couldn't guess mine, let's call this a draw." And he watched, stunned, as she bounded the corner. It wasn’t long before he heard a gust of wind entering the store, and the sound of the door clanking shut behind it.

A smile found his lips: he admired her cheekiness. Still, he was a sore loser.

He found her, waiting for him outside of the shop. He took long strides towards her telling her this, "Unless you provide your favorite book, I will take that win."

But when she didn't respond, he turned his attention to what she was focusing on, instead.

Just across the street, through the window of a bridal boutique, he could see a bride-to-be adorned in a dress.

Red fiery hair, and alabaster skin, she was tall, and thin, and beautiful. His darling was beguiled by her. Her eyes glossy with...tears?

Did she know her? Did she not? Was she her old lover's new dame? Was she herself, the old lover? He couldn't tell. All that he knew was that his darling was shattered by the sight of her.

He panicked. All the light, all the spark she had, not one minute ago, was gone.

He encased her hand in his own. "Look!" He beamed, trying his hardest to emanate the happiness she was so good at imitating. "An authentic looking diner. I've never experienced one of those. Would you mind if we took a detour in our plans?"

She hadn't moved. Eyes focused on the dazzling beauty from across the street. Her expression was the complete opposite of his darling's: a smile reached her ears, white teeth visible from even their position. She did a sashay for her company, swaying to and fro in the glittery gown as her delight lit up the street there were on.

His Darling, wasn't going to move. Not on her own.

Loki switched places with her to shield her from both oncoming traffic, and the view of the bride, as he walked her further down the strip, not stopping until they were met with the neon lights of the diner.

When he was done fiddling with their table's jukebox, he turned to her and asked, "Which do you prefer: Strawberry or Vanilla?" but when she said nothing, he continued his rambling "They even have a concoction made of chocolate and boysenberry...what in—Banana pudd—peach cobbler milkshake?!" He was disgusted. Still he could garner no reaction from her.

She sulked on her side of the booth, shoulders slumped, hands folded in her lap...eyes holding a dim glint, as all the remaining bit of light slowly leaked from them.

He peered across the table at her. He didn't know where to start. Obviously, his strategy of deflecting was not working. His darling was far too encapsulated by her own thoughts. Lost to the world.

The whole ordeal made him really consider how he had come to know her. He didn't know her. He didn't know why the bride had shaken her so. What he did know, however, was that he didn't like to see her this way. Didn't like whoever the bride was, for doing this to her.

“Darling…” His hand inched towards hers, holding it like he would an injured dove. “Please say something.”

He had just met her. Had his first conversation with her, not three hours ago. Why did his heart ache to see her like this?

"You know," she started, ignoring the way Loki's attention lit up at her voice; it had been about thirty minutes since she last spoke a word to him. "I don't usually entertain the idea of a soulmate. I know that the world doesn't work like that. I know that better than anyone." She confessed.

“But when I saw you more than once today, I thought it could be a nice idea. I thought that for a second, by choosing a stranger that I'd have no strings attached to by the morning, I could experience what it felt like to be loved without the consequences that the real thing brings. I don't want to be soured by who you really are- or no, rather who I turn you into." She corrected.

“I just want one person, who I can paint perfection onto. Who will remember me as perfect too. I need someone who won't have the chance to ignite regret within me."

Who you really are. He tried not to focus on that jab, especially after she caught it herself. But Loki knew she was wrong to correct herself.

And did she always blame herself for the ruins of her past? Did she have the right to? Were they more alike than he thought?

When he finally did speak, after several beats of mulling her words over, it wasn't to address the last part of her confession. Instead he said, "I believe soulmates exist."

"Stranger—"

“—I do. I just think that you have to work for them, and most people are not willing to do so. Most people settle for the first person that they can tolerate out of fear of being alone, and their fear is what makes it harder for the rest of us to find our beloved. It's because of this that, and to steal your words from earlier, most never have the chance to meet their destined."

And then he improvised, further selling the idea of being her lover, ”But we're the lucky ones, my darling. We've found ours."

She blinked away the tears, and offered a weak smile. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Stranger—"

"I wasn't trying to make you feel better...that's not what I'd do to make you feel better."

As the piano notes of Roberta Flack's The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face finally faded, the sound of a celtic fiddles filled the diner's air to replace it. "Ah. Just in time." Loki sighed in relief, turning the music on the jukebox up, then standing from his seat in the booth. With an outstretched hand beckoning towards her, he stood before her expectantly.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, turning her head from side to side, as people began to stare at the now standing, cloaked in black stranger.

"Dance with me."

"Sit down!" She begged him, reaching from his arm, but he snatched it away before she could. "This place is full of people!"

"No it's not." He said after looking around to try to see what she saw. "It's just you and I."

And after a moment of eyeing him like he was mad, she said "No—"

—♪Come on Eileen ♪ "Come on Eileen!" He belted alongside the singer, in the most obnoxiously terrible voice he could muster. She cowered at the call of his strangled bird cry. Cringed at the sight of his hip and body rolls. Winced at the—

♪Come on Eileen♪ "Come on Eileen!" He howled again, but again she hissed no. Loki guessed that he would have to dance by himself.

♪Poor old Johnny Ray

Sounded sad upon the radio

Moved a million hearts in mono

Our mothers cried

Sang along, who'd blame them? ♪ He waved his arms and hands violently, his body contorting into the most ridiculous positions he could display.

♪You're grown (you're grown up)

So grown (so grown up)

Now I must say more than ever

(Come on Eileen)♪ Loki promenade along the walkway, stealing table seven's ketchup bottle to fashion it into a microphone as he cried out,

♪Toora loora toora loo rye ay♪ like his life depended on it,

♪And we can sing just like our fathers♪ His hips thrusted in rhythm to the beat of the song.

♪Come on Eileen, (oh I swear) what he means

At this moment, you mean everything

You in that dress, my thoughts I confess

Verge on dirty, ah, come on Eileen♪ He had stolen a dance from the more than willing waitress as she was passing by him.

♪Come on Eileen♪ He twirled, and spun her about the aisles, dipping her before abandoning her in an empty booth.

♪These people round here♪ In a break from his dancing, he stole a fry from an unsuspecting man. Had he seen the gesture, Loki was sure he would have tried to pummel him, so he scurried away before he could notice.

Wear beatdown eyes sunk in smoke dried face

So resigned to what their fate is

But not us (no never)

No not us (no never)

We are far too young and clever

♪Toora loora, toora loo rye ay♪ Loki had found another partner: an older man to lasso.

♪ Eileen, I'll hum this tune forever

Come on Eileen, oh I swear (what he means)

Ah come on let's take off everything♪ They paraded around the room, seducing the female and male patrons with their terrible moves.

Pretty red dress, Eileen, tell him yes

Ah come on let's, ah, come on Eileen

That pretty red dress, Eileen, tell him yes.♪ The older gent held out as long as he could, dancing with Loki until his hips gave out.

Ah, come on let's, ah come on Eileen, please♪ The tempo declined. He finally made it back to the part of the room his darling sat on. Now on his knees, the turn of the chorus in tow, he asked his Eileen, once more for a dance.

♪Come on Eileen, too loo rye ay

Come on Eileen, too loo rye ay♪ And though she looked as if she was about to decline, she smiled and slowly stood to her feet.

♪Now you have grown, and now you have shown

Oh, Eileen♪ Her slow rise, encouraged Loki's own as he stood to his feet as well.

Said♪ Turning, and swaying her hips against his, the people that were previously surrounding them disappeared.

Come on Eileen, too loo rye ay (show how you feel) ♪ "show how you feel" he sang in her ear, as their dancing picked up with the music.

Come on Eileen, too loo rye ay

Now I must say more than ever♪ They span around in circles, dizzying themselves.

Things round here change

♪I said, toora loora, toora loo rye ay ♪ And as the fiddles swelled, and the beat picked up again, Loki, jumped onto a table, and reached for her ha—

"Ow, ow, ow—" He winced, as she nursed the cut above his eyebrow.

"You're a grown man. You should've known that the weight of that table couldn't support you."

"I was too in the moment to think rationally—Ow!" He cried, squeezing her hand.

"This is a record for the amount of places I've been kicked out of in one night."

He sadly begged, "Please accept my apology."

"Apology? That was hilarious, my love!" She beamed at him, as she finished up her work on his bruise, tossing the bloody tissue in a nearby bin.

He didn't even try to contain his smile, upon hearing her endearment for him, return. "So I've succeeded in lifting your spirits?"

"Yes. And thank you for it."

"Never thank me for doing something that I'm supposed to do. As your soulmate, your happiness is my own."

"Still" She began, eyes drifting towards the now empty boutique behind her. "I'm sorry for being so melodramatic."

Loki gently caught her chin, and reeled it back to focus on him instead. "Be as dramatic as you wish. I'm quite the drama queen myself." And laughed, when she began to.

"Have you ever been in love?" She asked a few moments later, dropping her hand into the water beside them. They were sitting on a fountain that was in the center of all of the places they had been to.

"A few times." He answered. Not even surprised by the question. It was expected. As whimsical as she was, she was also a tad predictable. "I'm not like you, in that I don't fall easily. But when I am smitten with someone, I'm quite pitiful."

"Yea?" Her hand slinked from side to side creating ripples in the waves. "What kind of person could make you pitiful?"

The same kind that you are...where did that come from? "Ask the few men and women that have."

"I would love to. Do they all have something in common?"

"Yes, in one way or another. I suppose I do have a type."

"Do I have anything in common with them?"

No. "No."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, as she bought her hands up, and pushed herself off of the fountain. She began walking off, Loki following behind.

"If given a proper chance, could you see yourself falling in love with me?" she asked, after an uncomfortable beat of silence.

Yes. "If I knew more of you, maybe." I want to know more of you. Then he reasked her question, "Could you see yourself falling in love with me?"

"Absolutely. Next question."

What about me makes her say absolutely? "What about me makes you say “'absolutely'?"

"Tall, brooding, handsome, raven-haired stranger, who shows no interest in anyone or anything around him? I'm always attracted to people who don't want me."

Who says I don't want you? "Well beyond the physical there's not much to want of me."

"There's plenty."

"Like?"

"You're standing here with me now. Why?"

"Give yourself credit, you make a convincing argument."

"That's not it. You made the decision on your own."

"I thought you were pretty. Maybe I'm doing this, because I thought it would better my chances of taking you home tonight."

Scoffing, she said, "S'not that either. Stop pussy footing around the real answer, and just admit it."

"Fine. I thought you looked sad."

"You did?" She stopped to survey him for a moment, before continuing the walk. "So you care about other people than yourself...and he says what's to like?"

"Please. I call back to the fact that you're pretty."

"Is Jace also pretty?"

"Didn't do it for Jace, again that was for you."

"You had a cartful of groceries that you were more than willing to put up for people you didn't know. Was that for me too?"

"Maybe it was." She looked at him exasperatedly. "Okay. It was no benefit to me to just leave it there ."

"It was an inconvenience to put them all up. Most people would have left it."

"Why does it fascinate you, so? The task took little to no effort to perform. It was miniscule."

"That's just my point. It was very small but you did it. It wouldn't have made much of a difference to leave it there, but it would have made you feel guilty. There's no question that bigger things that could have a lasting effect on those around you, would harm your conscience."

"Okay. But my good intent completely erased itself, when I destroyed the store."

"We've been over this, before. No it hasn't. At least not completely. And why are you trying to convince me that you're not good?"

"Because, I'm not good. That’s a fact. I have the past to prove it.” He looked at her indignantly. He hoped that was the end of it, but he underestimated how woefully insufferable and detrimentally stubborn she could be.

"Are you proud of your past?"

"No?"

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes."

"Have you changed?"

"Ye—"

"And you want to do better?"

"Again yes. But no amount of doing "better" will undo all of the bad."

"You're right...but that doesn't mean you can't still be good now. It's not too late to fix your mistakes."

"I can't fix everything."

"It's amazing that you even want to. We can never fix everything. What matters is that you try." And then she furthered, before he could speak. "And so you're a good person who's capable of change. You're smart. You're attentive and you're not afraid of making a complete ass of yourself to make those around you feel better. And I can imagine had I been given the time, I'd have so much more to say. So what's not to fall in love with?"

Loki fixed his lips to argue with her again, but closed them shut when he realized she'd just argue him into silence. A feat that couldn't be achieved by many.

He knew of some of these things himself, what she was saying made sense...he'd just never heard someone else besides himself say it. Never even heard himself say those things the way she did. And another difference between him and her, is that she didn't have to convince herself that he was good. She just knew it.

She was dangerous, if she could make him feel things this fast.

"Why've you never succeeded in love?" Loki thought to ask, after moments of walking in silence.

Her movement slowed just a little as she hesitantly replied "I was always too much." Then she asked, "And you?"

"I was never enough."

She stopped them both in their tracks, turned to him, and sported the biggest smile that he would have found terrifying, if it wasn't so adorable. "You realize we're perfect for each other right?" She asked, grasping both of his hands in hers.

He shook his head and smirked, about to wave off the declaration, but had no time to comment.

"I'm going to tell you what your future lover should" Her tone grew serious, as did her grip. "You will always be more than enough."

And as her words sank in, and he stared back down at her eyes , his hands reflexively squeezed hers tighter as he replied, "And I could never have my fill of you."

He didn't know how long he stood there, holding her hands, smiling, and gazing at her. But however long it was, it couldn't have been long enough.

"Are you sure it's okay that we're here?"

"It's fine, lover. Don't worry too much."

"What are we doing here? What kind of museum is this? Do you mean to replicate your other—"

“—You ask a lot of questions. Just take a gander around the room. I want to watch how you interact with the art." And with that, she walked off and did the same.

Loki tried to follow her example. He truly did. But of all the priceless vases, sculptures, and paintings that tried to seduce him, it could never hold his attention.

She was already the captor of that.

She could never stray too far, without him closing off the distance.

And it seemed she knew it too. Seemed she struggled to(o). He knew she tried her hardest to focus on the creative expressions before them, but her eyes would drift to him, studying him when she felt he wasn't looking...but he was always looking. He was always gazing.

If she was clumsy in nature, he wouldn't have noticed it, because never did Loki think a creature could move so gracefully.

He imagined that if she sang, whatever tune it could be, would be beautiful. Didn't matter if her voice was terrible, he would think it was the prettiest sound.

Her eyes were the most magnificent shade in their color. Of all the colors if he was concerned.

Her measurements were the perfect combination. Just right.

Her height was right for his. Just perfect.

But he supposed that it didn't matter what she looked like. What he liked was her.

Seemed every piece he found her in front of, intrigued him too. Seemed every room she pranced to, he needed to explore as well.

It felt like she was dancing around the room, practically floating from piece to piece, as Loki danced with her, chased after her.

She was currently studying a Krisi Malakoff installation, crouching as she admired the subtle details in the paper figurines.

Then she glided to a Kara Walker, enamoured by the haunting silhouettes and their gothic elements.

The Kumi Yamashita shadows were what really fascinated her however. Loki knew this, because of how her eyes lit up at the illusions.

When she was done with her fill of art, she silently led him to a room where he later found she would perform another test.

As she turned to him, catching him mid-gaze, she said, "Pick one." In reference to the paintings on the wall.

There were only two, so it wouldn't take a lot of brainpower to decide which one he liked. But he knew it mattered to her which one he chose.

One was of a woman castrating a man with the help of another assisting her. The other was of a girl shrouded in pearls, her skin almost transparent as it contrasted with the jewels.

"I'm not the biggest fan of gore. I think if you're going to kill someone it should be clean and efficient." He said, not thinking of whether or not his answer would shock her. "But I know if I say I dislike this one, you'll accuse me of being scared of women who exact revenge on men who have wronged them—which I'm not by the way, since the girl performing the crime is a victim of assault. And if I say I do like this one," He said in reference to the lady in pearls. "I'm a misogynist since the woman in the painting represents the same thing her pearls do: an object, to be admired and sought after. It seems I'm destined to fail either way, because one choice goes against my true feelings, and the other goes against yours…"

"You have to choose one."

"Well then the answer is obvious. I'll choose the third work of art in the room, which is you."

She burst out into laughter, before saying, "That was so cheesy!"

“Fine. I lied: I’m a huge fan of gore. And the girl in the painting is justified, so I’ll choose that one. However, my first answer, is that not what your lover would say?"

"No. They'd choose us."

It was his turn to laugh now. "And exactly how is your answer, not worse than mine?."

"I figure if you get to be cheesy, so do I"

The art was long forgotten, and the other was the only thing they wanted to admire.

"Do you know what I find odd?"

"What do you find odd, my love?"

"All night, we have been playing the role of hopelessly in love romantics, yet we have not yet kissed each other."

"How bizarre?”

"Very bizarre, actually.” He said, closing the distance once more. "How do you suppose we fix that?" He whispered.

"If you want to kiss me you should have just said so." She dared.

A fond smile painted his lips, as he towered over her, and pulled her in.

He watched her close her eyes. Inviting his touch. Falling into his hand, as his palm caressed the side of her face, and his fingers on bits of her neck. He bowed his head, and leaned in.

But before he could place his lips onto hers, "Hey! What the hell are you doing in here?"

And like a deer caught in headlights—or flashlights, Loki stared at the beam of whatever light in horror.

She grabbed his hand, and tugged him along violently, as they sprinted further into the gallery. Ducking and weaving past art that wasn't on display yet, they pushed until they reached the back of the building.

Stumbling through the emergency exit, they kept running until they were far enough from the gallery to take a break.

Swallowing gulpfulls of air, hands resting on his knees, Loki breathed "I thought...I thought you said you knew the curator?"

"Well I didn't say he knew me." She exhaled, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she too struggled to breathe.

Loki, brows now furrowed, looked at her as if she was mad...but then he started to laugh. It began small, starting in his throat, before he felt it in his chest, then down to his stomach. A deep hearty vibration shook through his whole body, as he remained doubled over in glee. And once he started, so did she.

Their sounds echoed through the night, bringing on a mass of light through the shine of their teeth, and the blissful energy they radiated.

Eventually he stopped and straightened himself out. He looked over at her, this time not even bothering to hide his ogle.

"You're amazing." He confessed. "You're simply amazing."

Then he closed in on her, barely giving her time to stand straight, and took the kiss he didn't get the chance to have earlier.

Lips pressed against hers, so softly, it barely constituted a touch. But then his chaste embrace escalated, when his tongue swiped against her lip, before sliding into her mouth.

Kissing her was akin to walking into the warm embrace of your home after facing winter's harsh weather. That icy burn in his cheeks slowly melted away as a comfortable heat replaced it. His cold fingertips began to sear, when her hot neck thawed them out, as he cradled her face. The taste of her sweeter than any guilty pleasures he could ever hope to have, because she was now his pleasure. And he wasn’t guilty about it.

Reluctantly pulling away, he whispered against her, "Where does the night take us from here?"

And he thanked that she said, "Take me home with you."

Pushing the key into the lock, and twisting the door open, he welcomed her in first.

He watched her curious eyes take in his space. And after a moment of slow pacing around his living room she said, "I should have known your home would be as dark as you."

"You don't like it?" Looking around his own room, as if he had not done so a thousand times before, he focused on all of the dark interior and really drank it in. Black walls, and mostly dark green furniture, with hints of gold accents flooded his apartment.

But it wasn't as if he was all dark. His house was teeming with life. His pet snake and the many plants he owned told him so.

"Who says I don't like it?" She asked, as she craned her neck to admire the golden snake bookend at the top of his bookcase. The intricate designs, down to its fangs and scales, captivated her the same way it did him.

He watched her crouch lower to examine the book nook on the shelf below it. The warm glow illuminating her face, as she stared at it in awe. It was a replica of a library, with never ending book shelves, dark tile floors, and a table in the middle with papers, textbooks, and pencils sprawled about it. The bookshelves had green vines and plants going down the sides, and some of the books even had titles scrawled with gold ink.

Three tiny versions of him were spread throughout the room. One was climbing the elephant ladder in search of a title. One sitting against the shelves, head buried in a book. Another at the only table scribbling on paper. That one even had glasses adorned on the tip of his nose. "You made this?” she asked, fingers grazing the black head of the Loki reading his book.

"Yes?" His confirmation came out more like a question, slight panic in his voice as he did. Did she think it odd?

"It's wonderful! Could you sho—" She hurriedly cut herself off. "...I mean it's wonderful."

Her back was to him, so he couldn't read her face. But he liked to think it mirrored his own: disappointed by the conditions she had set earlier tonight, that would hinder him from showing her how to make her own shelf-insert. That would hinder him from making one for her. Or better yet, that kept her from sharing his. But he knew that he was wrong. This is what she wanted.

She had pretended to busy herself with a book on one of his shelves. Ignoring the heavy weight of the tension in the room. Both from awkwardness, and sexual frustration.

But he would not. He would give into one of those feelings.

She'd seen the wall in front of her grow dark with his shadow, and then heard  the creaking of wood behind her, before she felt his hands on her stomach. Before she felt his lips on her skin.

Loki kissed at her neck and shoulders, pulling the back of her body flush against the front of his.

His warm wet kisses slowly trailed down the side of her face and neckline, and his fingers clutched her hips.

She felt sneaky, long digits climbing up her body, lightly brushing her breasts, before stopping on the strap of her dress, hooking underneath the string, and letting it fall loosely around her arm. Then they traveled to the other shoulder and did the same.

Again, he was pressing her body impossibly closer into his, as his hands freed her from the confines of her dress. Lips hungrily kissed at more bits of exposed skin, her soft sighs spurring him on.

Her hand instinctively found its way to his neck, as she pressed him closer, warning him not to stop.

And he held her arm and kissed that too, but failed to heed her warning. Instead, he found her chin, turned it, and kissed her lips.

She twisted her body into his, in order to deepen their connection.

Their noses bumped. Their fingers grew hungry, clenching, and pulling at the other, desperately trying to feel skin. Their tongues delved deeper. Mouths opened wider. Bodies drew closer. Lips pushed rougher. She mirrored whatever action he did, and that's how he knew she loved this feeling as much as he.

Loki dropped beneath her, lips working extra hard to stay connected to hers, as he gripped the globes beneath her ass, and spread them apart to wrap her legs around his waist.

He eventually had to let go of her lips. Didn't matter how well he knew his condo, because he was too focused on her to feel his way around successfully without knocking into shit.

"So sorry." He breathed, when he bumped her into the corner of a wall.

"S'okay." She assured, a soft laugh hidden in her words.

When he finally made it to the bed, he gently placed her down and resumed his measures against her lips.

Her fingers found his hair when he hovered over her, and he thought it was heaven the way they moved against his scalp. The same way her soft tongue moved against his.

His hands weren't sure what pace to set as they roamed her body. He wanted to be inside of her already. Wanted to feel her wrapped around him. But then he also wanted this to last.

"Slow." was all she uttered into their kiss, "Enjoy me." and that was all it took for his body to obey.

He felt her hands working the buttons of his shirt, pulling the material down his shoulders once she was done.

She reached between them again, unzipping his pants, pulling them as far she could, before pushing down what she couldn't with her feet.

It was her that broke their kiss first. His blown pupils focused on her swollen lips as she gasped for air.

"I see you." She finally said.

Loki's eyebrows furrowed at the comment.  "I see you too."

"No." Hand cupping his jaw, she said it slower. "I see you."

And it was then that he understood what she meant. She saw him. "You see me?” He asked.

“Yes.” She clarified. “And you see me?”

He was practically already naked, but he felt so much more bare when he confirmed, "And I see you.” And he really had.

He had seen her that morning. Connected with her then too. Wanted her since she first claimed him as her love.

Had she really seen him? Did she connect with him too? Want him, too?

She had to. He, a liar, could tell when someone was deceiving him.

She had seen him. And the realization of being seen, and wanted… and accepted. That, made him ache.

But she wasn't done. She tucked a raven-lock behind his ear, and told him, "You're so beautiful." Her hand caressed the shell of his ear where his hair now lay, dropping to his naked chest and placing itself over his heart. "You're so beautiful." She repeated, gazing into his sea of green. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes. But he stuffed them down, as he told her,

"You're beautiful, too."

Her smile was light. And he found himself mimicking that too.

"Feel me." She commanded, dragging her palms over parts of his body that always went unnoticed in throes of passion.

He did as she told him, hands touching her softly. Why'd he feel that she would break? Why'd he feel like his touch would taint her?

She found his shaky hand, and brought it to her lips. "You're deserving." She said before placing a kiss to his knuckles. "You're worthy." She furthered, planting another. "Love me." She begged, pressing two more.

And how could he refuse?

Loki, hurriedly abandoned the rest of his clothes, and took his time in removing the rest of hers, deciding that he would kiss her the way he longed to be kissed.

He kissed her hands, and each of her fingers. He kissed her arms, and the crooks of them too. Her stomach became littered in his kisses. Her legs littered in them until his lips were almost blue.

His kisses on her nipples, turned into licking, that turned into sucking, that turned into nipping when her back began arching into his touch.

He kissed—ravaged the lips between her legs, tonguing them with as much fervor as he would the ones on her face, greedily lapping up all of her nectar, and devouring her broken cries.

And he thought, why wouldn't she be just as fair as him? As she began pushing him, climbing on top of him, and kissing him just as he had kissed her before.

She kissed his hands, and each of his fingers. Kissed his arms, and the crooks of them too. His abs became littered in her kisses. His legs littered in them until her lips were almost blue.

She kissed the tip of his cock, in the midst of her measures. She licked the crown, and sucked the shaft too.

She touched him as if he would break. Her fingers were so light on his skin, that even though he was watching her intently, he thought her touch was imaginary.

But Loki didn't assure her that she wouldn't break him like she assured him; he too was sure that he would shatter under her delicate care.

He was spiralling towards the ground, and he was sure she wouldn't be there to catch him.

And that was okay. He was just happy to be along for the ride.

She placed her thighs on the sides of his. Using him to take her pleasure. The velvety warm feel of her folds, as they gently massaged and coated his length was torment.

Slow? He could go slow; Loki lived for sensuality. But the way she looked on top of him right now, eyes more deadly than the viper's in the next room over, the way she touched him, the way she felt, it was all so cruel. The way she sounded. So cruel. Her pace? Oh so fucking cruel.

His hands burned from the feel of her smooth and supple brown skin, but he still managed to lift her from on top of him and replace her position.

Her hands instinctively grabbed, and held on to him for dear life. Her legs did the same. And it was a good thing she did too...

He dragged himself through her slick—agonisingly slow just to prove that he could. The weight of his length, and the feel of him grazing her sex made her jolt, which made him smirk  to know that he had at least some of the same power over her, that she had over him.

His eyes dared to hold her own while he drove himself into her—agonisingly slow just to prove that he could. The whine she let out, as he stretched her almost made him feral. But he contained himself. The words enjoy me, on repeat in his mind.

Thrusting into her—agonisingly slow, just to prove to himself that he could, was the most difficult challenge. Now inside of her, now a part of her, and feeling the way she felt, he could hardly compose himself. She had a grip so tight, he couldn’t escape it if he wanted. What he wanted was to stay like this.

Soft gasps escaped her, escaped him, as their moans mixed together like harmony.

Her cries did not bounce off the walls, or threaten to shatter his eardrums (though he wouldn't mind her voice being the last he ever heard), instead they bled into his skin, into his memory. Her labored pants and whines would forever lull him to completion.

She writhed beneath him, back curving off the bed, as her chest glued itself to him. Though he wasn't complaining, he'd never be too close to her, never have my fill of you.

As her face contorted into pleasure, tears welled in her eyes, and her head fell back, Loki took advantage of its new angle, kissing and licking at her exposed throat. Taste buds memorising the feel of her cells.

Then he wrapped his legs around hers, tangling the limbs like vines. Tongue around her tongue, locking them together indefinitely. And as his fingers clasped around her own, Loki took her and took her, until he couldn't take her anymore.

Kissing her until his jaw ached, and his lips went numb, was a pain that he could endure; stopping his measures against her was far more torturous.

He did stop, however, when her lips started to give out, and her hands dropped from his face.

He rolled from on top of her, skin sticky and hot with her sweat mixed with his. Her cum, mixed with his. He hoped her essence that seeped out would stain his sheets forever.

Warmth escaped him as he slid out of both of her hugs: the one from between her arms, and the other from between her legs.

Not touching her, was not an option however, and he immediately went to that, as she tried focusing on breathing steadier with the new loss of his weight from her chest.

The backs of his nails and knuckles swayed gently across her naked torso. Switching between this, and letting the pads of his fingers drag delicately down her body, he explored as much of her as he could. Every ridge of his fingertips, touching every curve of her.

"How do you feel?" He whispered hoarsely. Throat and mouth dry, from using all of the moisture in his lips, to transfer to hers.

"Sore" she whispered back, a light smile decorating her face and her eyes fluttering shut as sleep began to set in.

His cheeks reddened as he smiled back at her.  "No. I mean about the entire night?"

She decided to answer his question with "How did you feel about it?" after turning her back to him to sleep on her side instead. He told himself that he imagined how awake she suddenly sounded.

"I don't know how to feel about it." He lied, before truthfully answering, "I've never felt so vulnerable with someone before."

"Mmm?" she hummed, while he switched his patterns to her back. "Well that's the beauty behind all of this stranger:" she yawned. Then she continued, so many moments later that he thought she'd fallen asleep before she could finish her sentence, "you don't have to worry about vulnerability with me...because after tonight...you'll never see me again."

Immediately upon hearing it, his drawings against her skin stopped.

Moments passed, and he could hear her light snores as they passed through her nose.

The moonlight bathed her skin, and her side rose and fell into the mattress.

Confident that she now belonged to her dreams , Loki confessed to her sleeping person, "then I never want this night to end." before linking his arms under hers, and holding her as tight as he could.

There was a faint voice that broke through his sleep. “Loki.” It called. “Wake up. Wake up, my love.” They pleaded gently, nudging his sleeping body.

The black faded away, as his blurry vision slowly created her face and form. Her lips contained a hidden smile, and her eyes held mock contempt. “Are you just gonna sleep your morning away?” She asked, as she divorced the curtains, and gleams of sunlight floated into the room, crowing her, and kissing her skin.

And in his stretch he revealed, “I was enjoying a dream.”

“Can you please tell  me what dream has captivated you so?” Climbing into their bed, she propped her elbow up to better peer at his still tired face.

“It was of the first day we met.” Her eyes drifted away from his as she recalled the day as well.

Breathy air passed through her lips, as a dreamy smile decorated them. “I still get embarrassed when you bring this up.”

“What about something so beautiful, could embarrass you?”

“Do you not remember how childish I was? Spewing on about  soulmates and love at first sight.”

“You were not childish. You were instead magical.”

She rolled her eyes and asked, “What part of the dream were you on before I interrupted?”

“The part after our first time lying together.”

“Of course you were.” She teased. “ You were not remembering the first time you saw my face, or kissed my lips, you were dreaming about the first time you fucked me.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Did you not hear me say after?”

“Oh. You mean when you convinced me to stay?”

“Yes.” He fondly smiled. “I had not slept the entire night, cause I feared you would leave before I awoke. I remember you slipping away from my embrace, and into your little dress, before trying to slip out of the door.”

Then she took over. Recalling it as if it was yesterday. “You snuck up from behind, and wrapped your arms around me before I could even touch the handle.”

“And then I said to you, “even if soulmates don't exist, I want you to be mine.” and I begged you to fall in love with me.”

“And then I dropped my hand from the door.”

“And then you turned in my arms.”

“And then we kissed. And soon we’d fall in love.” She finished, just before placing her lips on his in recreation of the one they shared all those years  ago.

“No darling.” He began to correct, holding onto her waist. “Now that I recall, it happened earlier in the day for me.”

“Yeah?” This surprised her. “When then?”

“When I first saw your face. I didn't know it then, but my heart belonged to you. And you could do anything you wanted to it.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in love at first sight?”

“I didn’t. I thought once you were in it, love comes at you full force...but that was wrong. It starts small, and it grows without you even realizing what’s happened. But by then it's too late.”

“Loki…” she caressed his cheeks with the backs of her fingers.

“You changed my life, you know. I've heard so many people say that before. But the words never reigned true until I met you. Some days I could not look at myself. Others I forced a look in the mirror, to see the man who had caused pain to countless others.”

“If it wasn't me, I know it would have been someone else.”

“No it wouldn't have been. It will have always been you. No other could even begin to compare to your soul. To your love. To you. And I couldn't even begin to love someone else like I do you.”

She looked at him and smiled as bright as the sun. It was never leaving. Never ending how beautiful she was. “You’re going to have to try.”

His forehead creased as the words settled in, and her touch fell from his face. But he could only watch her as she  slipped out of bed and disappeared down the hall.

Sunlight assaulted the back of his eyelids, as it peeked through a sliver in his curtains. Pulling his pillow closer, he tried to escape the bright beams of—

His eyes flew open, sleep completely evading him.

When he realized the cushion wasn't her, he flung his covers back, stumbled out of his bed, and scrambled to his wardrobe for something to make himself decent.

Cold seeped into his body through the bottom of his feet, when he padded the floors of his condo in search of her.

He started to call out her name, but remembered that he didn't know it.

Who was he kidding? He knew she wasn't there. He would have felt her.

It took a moment to collect himself. This is what we agreed upon. This is what she wanted.

But Loki thought that he would have felt so much better if he had the chance to say goodbye. Would have felt so much better if he got to kiss her before she left. Felt much better if he got the chance to have one more conversation with her…

He'd tell her to stay a little longer. He'd ask her to come back to his bed. He'd beg her to never leave.

This time yesterday, he didn't even know her. Now he was convinced that he needed her? How can you want someone when they don't even know your name?

It was all a game last night. Every part of it was supposed to be fake...at what point had he stopped pretending?

This is okay. This will be okay. He just needed time to get over the magic of their night. Once a week has passed, she would be as good as a blur.

But oh no. More than a week has passed now, and he still sees her smile when he closes his eyes.

In his best efforts, he did try to let her memory go. But she just kept popping up in his head, like the pesky little fairy she was.

Before they met, he seldom took the bus. Only had that morning, because his car was undergoing repairs. Since that day, he was always in that same seat he was the day he first saw her.

Frequent stops at the bakery too. But it wasn't to admire the pastries.

Even found himself carefully scanning the block she mentioned going for afternoon jogs on, though it meant crossing paths with that devil cat.

At least the bar they met at served more than one purpose. He searched for her at the bottom of every drink.

He went back to that bookstore. Back to that diner. Back to that museum. None remembered her. But how could they forget?

It was when he thought of leaving  his number, at every place they had been to, in case anyone did recognise her, that he remembered, this was what she wanted.

If he had found her, and risked ruining what they had, she’d hate him for it.

So he had to forget her.

He decided that he was never gonna see her again. Never gonna search for her.

He decided to stop.

Stop riding the bus. Stop visiting the bakery. Stop going to that bar. Or that farmer’s market. Or that bookshop. That Diner. Museum.

But he couldn't really stop looking for her. At least not subconsciously.

It was the middle of spring when he found it.

With the city behind him,  Loki’s bench was surrounded by flowers, and overlooked a trail. He thought it pretty. So everyday he sat on that bench. Every sunrise. Every sunset. Every morning when night met day. Every evening when day met night. He was there. In search of his Day.

Of course he entertained the idea that he’d meet her on that bench, but he didn’t hold out hope. This park was one of many in their city. The chances of meeting her there were slim.

But he did imagine meeting someone there. Of the many joggers on the trail maybe there would be one for him.

If there was one thing Loki realized since meeting his darling, it was that he lacked someone to call his home. He didn’t care if said home was shitty, he just wanted one. He’d probably never meet someone to make him feel as good as she did, but that was okay. Most people didn’t.

As he sat down on the bench, he admired the strokes of purples, pinks and oranges that painted the sky.

It was still spring, so Loki had his umbrella accompanying him now. The bench was  always wet, and the smell of freshly cut grass always invaded his senses. Spring carried the sweet smell of orchids, and jasmine though, so he didn’t mind.

When rain wasn’t in the forecast, the park was packed. Couples thought it the perfect time to have their picnics in the grass.

He was surprised to have seen two proposals that April. He wondered if it possible to block people in real life.

As he sat down on the bench, he admired the strokes of purples, pinks and oranges that painted the sky.

Summer was here. Bright green leaves clung to the trees, and as hot as it was out, Loki still sat there, cloaked in black, admiring the sunset.

There were lots of bugs. He hated bugs. But still they weren’t going to chase him away from his bench.

Acorns and ants lay beside him, and he read to them. He read to the pigeons and to the squirrels, and to the occasional lizards, too.

Kids were out for the season. Their colourful chalk stained the trails. He watched joggers stampede all over the pastel rainbows and hopscotch boxes. It made him sad when a particular smiley face got destroyed.

Dogs barking over the smell of the hotdog stand that was parked behind the bench made it hard for him to read, but summer would be over soon.

As he sat down on the bench, he admired the strokes of purples, pinks and oranges that painted the sky.

Auburn, burgundy, and brown leaves littered the bench. Broken twigs, and crushed red berries too. Finally Autumn. The month of new beginnings.

And new beginnings there finally were. Loki no longer went to the park in search of his darling. Instead, he went because he was used to it. He liked it.

Her face was finally a blur in his mind now.  And soon it would be completely forgotten.

But that was okay, too. In his mind she was only there to teach him a lesson. A lesson on how to forgive himself. On how to love himself.  On how to look at himself in the mirror, and like what he saw.

As he sat down on the bench, like he had time and time before, since meeting her…he admired the strokes of lavenders, fuschias and tangerines that painted the sky.

It was the most beautiful transition from day to night that he’d seen in a long time. So beautiful, it brought to mind that quote she told him all of those nights ago.

“Two worlds colliding.” “…worlds colliding.” He and a stranger spoke together. And when his head snapped to the direction that the music came from, his eyes caught theirs immediately.

Their emotions danced with the others. Mouths fell open and closed, in a seemingly never ending cycle. His body was paralysed, even though he practiced how he would kiss her when he saw her again, a thousand times. Practiced what’d he say, when she was finally his.

“I-” She started to stutter out…

So that’s what her voice sounded like. How he could even forget in the first place, he didn’t know.

Reading her now, on this bench Loki was much like she, at a loss of words. Her face read confusion, guilt…joy? And after moments of stumbling over her words she carefully said, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Strange—”

“Loki.” He corrected. “My name is Loki. And it is so nice to meet you.” There you are. Just like you practiced. Though her poem rang true now. He had been searching for her, even before he met her. And he was just in the middle of telling himself a lie before she showed back up again.

Continuing, finally continuing, Loki added “Though Darling, my flower and Beautiful are all befitting for you, please tell me your name so that we can properly fall in love with each other, because my darling, i’ve been searching for you for a lifetime.”

And as he sang this, he watched worry, and confusion, and guilt fade away from her beautiful face, as joy bled into every corner of her eyes. And she replied, “Well your search ends here…My name is, ”

#Loki x reader #loki x black!reader #loki smut #loki angst #loki fluff #marvel smut #marvel imagines #loki imagine #mcu smut #mcu imagines

[anarmel]

six of crows gang my beloved

what is fanart without me complaining about a thing i like

as a person who read SoC duology a long time ago, my SoC only related thoughts

-did they make Jesper gay and not bi?do not support that decision. that scene in a stable was kinda unnecessary (but i’m not a big fan of those kinda scenes in general) and felt like they just wanted something gay in this season and sort of a nod that they didn’t forget Jesper’s attraction to men but in process of that forgot that he’s bi. i think he should’ve had flirtatious interactions with everyone(he flirty).especially that we know that his main love interest is a man and his light crush on Kaz he should’ve flirted with a woman in this season. and i know that bi people are not obligated to date several people of all gender spectrum to know or like affirm that they’re bi but that’s in real life and SaB is a piece of media that communicates through visuals and limited dialogue and not a book where you have access to mention it in characters thoughts soo....yeah....not invisible bi representation where?and Nina is taken with her romance with Matthias already

-Nina(my beloved) and Matthias...yeah that’s the start of their story

-i liked “more soft” Kaz he felt less like an archetype of a character that he is(a traumatised bad boy who doesn’t care for anything or anyone but will eventually be “fixed” by love for a girl). book version of him works because we have his inner thoughts and machinations if he was on screen like he was in a book it just wouldn’t work as well he needs to emote and show a little bit of feelings that he experiences to work in a given medium and to not be a brick character on screen

-and Inej, my girl, my beloved . i don’t think she would sass tante Heleen while still being under a contract. i don’t understand why they took out her having panic attacks near the menagerie, and she refused Jesper’s backup(girlboss of her to do that but not being alone in that place is beneficial for mental stability !buddy system!). maybe because she is in that situation where she is still under indenture and she didn’t feel real relief and still is to take her first breath as a free person so she doesn’t feel constant fear of being robed of her freedom by the same place again? idk maaan...maybe i’m wrong but that’s jus how i feel. she is the strongest character in the series but that doesn’t mean she should be “strong” in every situation she is still a human who was treated so terribly by so many people and the menagerie represents it. ooof. in a book her strengths and weaknesses were established so well. i appreciated her fangirling for Alina though and that they didn’t brake her character in that way.her beliefs are still intact and she is apprehensive about kidnapping a saint. nice. love her

as a viewer of Shadow and Bone content without a book base but with basic knowledge of the universe and characters:

-(speaking as a slavic person in predominantly slavic society) didn’t like Zoya’s racist comment towards Alina like at all. like she is asian herself different part bur still. and i felt like her problem with Alina wasn’t race related then why throw that in? if my rival was poc i wouldn’t throw a slur at them and go a racist rout because that will not who i am(and i’m not that lazy at insulting/j) and it’s not even a part of my problem with them, i would go for something more personal and connected to the root of the problem to be a full bitter bitch. like Zoya feels useless and like she’s being replaced (right?) she could’ve commented how useless Alina is, how she can’t be strong by herself without help of darkling to reflect her own insecurities on Alina? why drag race into that problem? why? i know they had asian writers working on the script and in my opinion they did a good job at war era racist propaganda and how it ostracised Alina in society but making Zoya on a personal level a racist was kinda dumb. she’s a bitch but not a bigot

-i’m afraid of saying my thoughts on darkling/alina/mal situation because that part of the fandom really scares me. and that was not really my interest in this show

-not enough Genya(i really like her character)

as a person who was born in russia and will die in russia(not by choice) my russia related thoughts:

(i know that it’s only inspired and not based on imperial russia but i wanna nitpick and bitch about things)

-for imperial russia not lavish enough(yeah budget and stuff but it’s true) those bitches only knew how to burn gold on luxuries and wars

-Alina’s last name is Starkov. so in russian usually last names that end in -ov/-ova -ev/-eva are gendered her version is “male”. i don’t care for gendered stuff but in russian every word is that way. as a gender abolitionist i don’t care as a russian speaker kinda not right but eh. i(nb) go by my -ova last name because it flows with my name better like Alina Starkova i kinda like how it has an A at the beginning and on the end. Alina Starkov is still a cool name because fuck grammatically correct things

-i don’t understand why they decided to call uniforms kefta and not kaftan, kefta sounds more like kofta(casual shirt) and kaftan is a real thing and a nicer word in my opinion(and isn’t kefta a dish? but then again we have a dish named “herring under a fur coat”)

-do not understand the name of an episode “otkazat’sya” it means “to refuse” as in like a verb, kinda weird, “otkaz”(refusal) would suit more as a name because it’s a noun and less confusing and a cooler looking word. it just doesn’t work in russian and was kinda jarring to see it. and didn’t they call a food taster an “otkazat’sya” like huh??? he would be just a low ranked “pridvornyy”(courtier) or a “sluga”(servant) or if you want a fancier word it would be “mundschenk”(world of german origin used in imperial russia under Peter the First) but they were only for vine and drink tasting

-there is like three words in russian and pronunciation is funny. o to pronounce ц like ц and not like ts. there is no need to be soft

-and it’s so funny that magic users called Grisha it’s just a slavic name Grigori in short form. imagine a world where magic users are all called like Josh in all seriousness

-(did they have at least one russian speaking person to consult on language usage or pronunciations?they merged two books together couldn’t they change some words to more correct ones?)

-so mad that they killed of my main man Ivan he was THE russian representation of that show. such a single minded serious bitch. i connected to him so much (i love me some unimportant background characters) and that goth bitch(darkling) lives on. i only can be satisfied if one of those shadow monsters is Ivan(i only jest...unless?....)

general:

-found family is top tier, love triangles are in hell(not fun kind) but that’s my general hiccup with this franchise (it has so much potential but choses to focus heavily on romance, like romance is good and great and all that but friendship is magic)

-in conclusion i really liked the story as a separate being and it’s one of the better book to screen adaptations i’ve seen but it’s not without flaws

-i’m always critical of things that i love. it’s my passion to scrutinise and see flaws. i am but a miserable being

🖤only my personal opinions and feelings,hope you enjoyed my art despite my tirades🖤

#grishaverse #six of crows #shadow and bone #soc fanart #art #my art #souring my art with my thoughts #blue eyed white boys on top( #why wylan has blue eyes leigh why not brown-amber #brown eyes are so much better #aaaaa