#i'd apologise for rambling again but i think at this point if you ask me something you're expecting it

[tokkias]

Do you have a fic you wish you had written differently? Or do you have fics you consider orphaning? Or just in general, fics you just don't really like but can't bother changing/orphaning?

ooooooohhh this is a fun question. yeah definitely because that's just what comes with having as many fics as i do.

i have definitely gone back and changed stuff in a few fics before, i think the most significant was when i overhauled there beneath the willow tree because the writing style was just atrocious. i had wanted to try doing present tense but i didn't stay consistent so it was constantly switching between past and present so looking back i knew i had to fix it or else i would be embarrassed about it forever.

in terms of fics i've considered orphaning, i have two--in your eyes i see the stars and adust. with adust there was just so much potential there and there's a lot of good stuff in it but i just felt like i could have gone so much harder with it but i didn't. it feels very surface level to me and i wish i had done something more with it. the reason it is the way it is was because a) it was written at a time where i had a lot less practice than i do now so it is just a product of lesser skilled work, and b) i was having a really hard time mentally when i wrote it and i thought "fuck i just need to get something out, that'll fix me". evidently it did not and i am still embarrassed that i put out a product that mediocre. for in your eyes i see the stars, i,,,,, i don't know. i don't know what i don't like about it but it's another one i just feel embarrassed by? i mean again it's from a time before my skills were developed like they are now, but i'm not embarrassed of all my old work, i'm really proud of pretty much all of my early work but nottt that one. it might be because i didn't get a lot of positive feedback on it when i posted, it has like the least amount of comments of all of my nalu works, so maybe that subconsciously made me think that it was bad? i don't know but i can't go back and read that one and i would like to forget about it sfgkhdfghf

the reason i haven't orphaned or deleted them is because of the sorta open secret that i am trying to get to the spot of most nalu works published on ao3, which started as a joke but people (hailey, jodi, kaleigh, probably a bunch of other people too) have enabled me to the point where it is no longer a joke. i'm not so embarrassed of those works that i don't want people reading them or associating them with me, i just have a very high standard for my work and i don't think those two are very representative of the good work that i can do. that being said i hope i don't publish anymore works that i feel that way about because i still want it to be quality over quantity--i never want to let my little personal goal get in the way of creating good work that i'm proud of

[abovecalamity]

I think I've seen you say you don't openly disclose which drivers you dislike before and I wholeheartedly respect that, do not get me wrong! You seem to be a sweet person on here and (forgive me for assuming) like someone who hates conflict of that kind.

So feel free to not answer this. No bad blood. I won't annoy you. 🧡

I'm just so nosy. You have really toned down the Lance Stroll posting compared to the last months and without trying to be rude, have your feelings towards him changed after the whole 'him hanging with zionists' thing? I couldn't find your opinion on this (again feel free to ignore me) and I'd really like to know, because of my own change of heart towards him.

Thank you and please have a great weekend 🧡

I will try my best to answer this. I am apologising if I ramble beforehand. Just letting out my thoughts on this.

Firstly, yes I have said I'm not here to openly hate the drivers I dislike and do stand by that opinion. I don't gain anything from producing or reblogging brainless shit. However, I have been thinking about *maybe* and this is just a *maybe* even doing a serious tierlist / general opinions post myself, to pin. Not because I feel the need to but because I want to. Not that it's massively important what I think lol.

And even then, I will not be found openly hating for the most part. It's just not what I enjoy doing and yes, Idk if you have somehow analysed me but a big part of that is hating conflicts and thriving for a harmony this whole world will never have.

Now, onto Lance Stroll.

Have I toned down my Lance posting? Yes, I have. Have my thoughts on him changed recently? Yes, they have. Have you missed any thoughts of mine that I shared? No, you have not.

I haven't talked about this, except for one lengthy outburst to my friend. If you see this, hello <3

I have mostly spent my time trying to ignore the elephant in the room. I'm not some saint, yes, we're in the sport of unmorality ... I'm not rolling up that whole conversation but simply put, yes I have become more indifferent and way less positive about him when I had to come to the realisation that, based on his surroundings, it is unbelievably likely he's a zionist.

We have had these conversations in the past but at the beginning of May it became very apparent with all the tags and affiliations and so on. How everyone feels about these things are personal and personally I don't mind seeing some of my dearest friends still posting about him. However, I have come to a point where I can't do that anymore. Even if I'm solely asking the emotional irrational side of myself, I'm moving on from him and at this point in time, regarding everything, I believe this is to be a good thing.

You asked for my feelings, here they are.

I don't know if this is my age speaking but of course this fucking sucks. But this has mostly to do with the lovely fandom space and the amazing fanfics I've had the pleasure to enjoy and less about the man himself that I don't know myself.

What I care about in this little fandom space we got here is; making silly jokes, making friends with this shared interest, admiring fan art, having fun with writing fanfic (although I haven't posted in a while, I still daydream about doing it again), reading fanfic (a BIG part for me) and just having a great time overall.

No fucking clue if I communicated this well, but it is what I had to say to this.

It is most likely that I will simply ignore him for now and only speak of him in context to other people - I do not have hateful feelings towards him (whether that's good or bad, it just IS).

I will follow the wise path of indifference and the only thing I really want, is to not lose any friendships which I'm sure won't happen. Other than that, I think I have said what I wanted.

I hope you're having a great weekend too! I'm currently sitting in a thunderstorm lol how ironic.

[curseofhecate]

I'm in love with you that's why

Lily Evans x Fem!reader

In which the reader and Lily get into an arguement and it ends with them confessing their love for each other.

0.9k

tw: slight angst, shouting.

"Potter asked me out on a date again" Lily announced as she threw her bag on the floor. Our dorm room was empty except for the two of us, Marlene was spending the afternoon with Dorcas and Mary was off doing Merlin knows what with her new boyfriend.

"Seriously Lils, I don't see why you don't just say yes to him" I sighed, closing the book in front of me. Lily sat on my bed oposite of me, cross-legged with a serious look on her face. "I don't like him like that" the girl stated simply.

"But you do like him Lily. If you don't then why are you always starring at him and then blush and smile every time he compliments you?" I asked, voice rising slightly.

I'd first realised I liked girls in 3rd year. It was confusing, I suddenly found myself thinking about the redhead, wondering what it would be like to be her lover. Wondering how her lips would feel against mine, wondering how it would be to hold her in my arms.

It hurt me having to watch her make heart eyes at James all of last year. It hurt every time she talked about her boy crushes and how other guys had asked her out.

It hurt me holding her hand platonically with the knowledge that we would never be anything more than that. Friends. She was my friend but I wasn't sure if I could be hers. Not when I thought of her in the way I did.

If she got with James then maybe, just maybe, I would finally come to terms with my feeling never being reciprocated. But as long as it continues, it's only causing more pain.

"No. See that's where you're wrong. I don't like him. I can't like him" the girl argued, face turning redder by the second, red enough to match the shade of her hair.

"James is a perfectly fine boy, Lily. He's sweet and kind and caring. Why can't you like him?" I was yelling at this point.

"I'm in love with you that's why!" she finally snapped, a sole tear of frustration escaping her eyes.

Silence. I didn't dare to move. She liked me? No she was in love with me? I'm delusional. Lily doesn't even like girls. She would have told me if she did. This is all work of my imagination, an illusion.

"I can't love James the way he loves me because I'm in love with you" she repeated, quieter this time.

"Lily I-"

There were no words to describe what I was feeling. Happiness, surprise, disbelief, fear. All at once. Everything seemed so distand from reality, as if i had grown numb to the world around me. I couldn't find it in myself to utter a word.

I was frozen, and could do nothing but stare at the girl in front of me who was now panicking.

"I'm sorry. Merlin I'm so sorry N/n" the girl spoke at the absence of a reply. Getting up from my bed, she tugged on her hair, clearly frustrated.

"I'm so stupid, so so, stupid" she groaned as tears threatened to fall. "I'm so stupid for ever thinking you'd ever like me back. Merlin I'm so stupid for even thinking you liked women."

She was rambling, apologising over and over again. Even in such state she still looked as beautiful as ever.

Breaking out of my frozen state, I quickly got up and walked towards her. Not thinking anything twice, I placed a hand on her cheek, pulled her in and pressed my lips against her.

They were soft. So, so soft. It felt better than I'd ever imagine. Better than I'd ever dream of it. She placed a hand behind my neck, pulling me even closer to her.

She was kissing me back. This wasn't a dream, no, not anymore.

Pulling away I opened my eyes to look directly into hers. Had she been starring at me this whole time? "I had no idea you had feeling for girls" I finally let out.

"I could say the same about you."

"Fair enough. But you go first." The redhead chuckled. "I only realised it a few months ago, when I found myself missing you with everything in myself over the summer" she admitted, cheeks still rosy.

Silence settles between us. Until I broke it, to answer her previous question.

"It was third year. And you had just had that glow up and were looking as beautiful as ever" I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I spoke.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was scared." Scared of making things weird between us. Marlene was the only one I'd told at that time.

Silence. Not like the one before, there was no tension between us anymore.

"So what does that make us?" She asked.

"We could be together. As more than friends. If you want to, of course. Or we could go on with our lives and pretend nothing ever happened between us. Though I'm not particulary fond of the second case".

"You'll have to get down on one knee" she laughed.

I chuckled, dropping on the floor. "Lily Evans, will you make me the happiest girl in the world and be my girlfriend?" I asked teasingly, holding her hand.

"Yes, yes, a million times yes" She jumped up and down.

I smiled at her antics, standing up to kiss her for a second time. It wasn't a short-lived kiss like the last one, it was one full of passion and I could feel the sparks fly around us.

Later that night, I found myself in Lily's bed, holding her close to me under the covers as we both started to drift off.

"You know I think it's for the better things turned out this way" I mumbled. "I'm pretty sure James has a thing for Sirius' brother anyway."

[hyperbolicgrinch]

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Im sorry there's so many. I'm just a simp for my author wifey, and you can ask me anything forever 💖

ASKS FROM BANG?!! I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD

Don't apologise, I adore you for it. Thank you, 🥜, for taking the time to send me anything. ☺️

(huhuhuhu permission granted, let's go 👁️👄👁️💖)

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Hmm. If it's like punctuation (and grammar too, I guess), I'd say it's like 4 (1 being the best thing ever sgsggdj) cause 85% of the time I know exactly what to to with that and love fixing little low stake slip-ups that have laid out rules I can follow and don't really need to overthink about.

Editing, like going through and punching everything up a notch or cleaning up flow is hmm, still pretty high. Like a 5. Cause even though it can be daunting and painstaking, I love that I actually have words on a page to play around with. I think it let's the ideas and scenes reach a closer version to the ones I had in my head. It's a lot of work and can drive one crazy but getting things to sing or spark is so satisfying ngl. 😌

Editing when you have to overhaul and rewrite large parts and fix one big problem but maybe make ten more is a quick and easy way to go insane but I still think it's not that bad. Like a 6 or 7. Cause, once again, I've already got words to fuck around and find out with and I'd take that over a blank page any day.

Proof reading editing can be really fun because spotting inconsistencies and lining them all up so they match makes brain go brrrrr so like a 5 or 6. Especially because at that point I know I'm so close to the finish line and the pay off is right there if I just get my shit together. 😂

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

fuck it, more than 5 be upon ye: 🥣🚩🫀🧵🧲😤💋🦋🏴‍☠️

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

Fatigue. 😅 Depression. 😅 Imposter syndrome. 😅 The stars not feeling like they've aligned correctly. 😮‍💨 The pressure to write a scene how it is in my head. 😩 The "what's the point?" poison to my whimsy and motivation. 🙄 The amount of time that's passed since I started writing the thing. 😭 The constant desire for instant gratification. 😐 The everyday horrors. 😵‍💫 My pedantic ass. 😮‍💨 Me forever renting real estate in the procrastination CBD. 🙄 I love to shoot myself in foot and just stare at a wall thinking about writing but not doing it. So just about everything under the sun, really. 🤪

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I don't know if this is what the question meant sfsghfhjjj but arghh I want a modern au that's so specific and catered to my exact tastes and based on the rambles my sister and I have had hsjjajjsk but there's also like this canon divergent ??? fix it??? au??? manifesting?? idea I have been thinking about non-stop since it got inside my brain but that I'm worried to to do in case it gets my hopes up for canon but basically I want two characters (and their crews) (but also these other two random characters that are not related to the first idea or each other bwhhah but I have thoughts for too and need them to come back exactly how I am envisioning because it would honestly be the Best Thing to Happen Since Sliced Bread ppfft hshajjajahsh) to somehow find each other again and team back up and take no shit to get revenge and then maybe kiss a little bit in front of the 1️⃣☮️ or something agshshsjaka after a dramatic entrance and while they hold some huge threat off so Luffy can get the ultimate boss fight done hdhsjskjshdj (Oda I'm so fr like if you need a rest or wanna hand their arc off so you can focus on bigger things, I'm right here cracking my metaphorical knuckles, I'll do it for you so fast, I have Ideas, put me in coach you won't regret ittt🙂👉👈) but it would be like so much work to make a plot that even made sense for it because I would have to do so much reaching and hand waving unless I got real serious about it and even then I would have to make so much up because there is no word of Goda or known timeline yet or events to use for its structure. 😅😂

But just anyone. Anyone that isn't me should write it (like Oda if you've got a moment...I mean, you've already done most of it,, might as well keep going, man) 😂 Maybe they even have... I haven't had a chance to look. 😅

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any and all comments spark joy and make me hehehehe and teeheeteehee and kick my feet and then I put them in my "reasons to keep writing" folder so I can go back and look at them when I'm feeling like a fraud or giving up on the thing. I wish I could be more specific but I really do cherish when people take the time to just leave anything. If they say what they liked or quote something they loved, that's even better, but merely a kind-hearted bonus. ☺️

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Hhrrmmm. If the vibe check just ain't passing for whatever reason or the tone and character is off to an unforgivable degree. 😌 Maybe it's in character for them and the version of that character they have in their heads, but if it ain't clicking for me, it ain't clicking, and I can't push through it. 😩 I think this is a very common one but yeah, character makes or breaks a fic. Cause it's the whole point, at the end of the day, ya know? 😅

[goondah]

First time i’ve seen someone who identifies as alloaro! i learned about this label about an hour ago, and I identify with it as well, although i’m still not comfortable with labels. can you describe your experience? just as much as your are comfortable with!

Hi! Thanks for the ask, if there's anything you'd like me to elaborate on or anything else you want to ask i'd be happy to reply.

I only found out i was aroallo less than a year ago, after a conversation with friends where i realised most people had experienced some kind of romantic attraction by my age. Before that point, i was convinced i was completely straight as i definitely experience aesthetic and sexual attraction. I guess i just thought i was a "late bloomer" and my time would come eventually, although there had always been a slight feeling of "something isn't right". In terms of attraction, I feel very strong platonic attraction, almost to a point of infatuation, however these feelings have always been strictly platonic. I dearly love and care about my friends, and i am very lucky to have ones that understand that this isn't romantic in nature. I regularly experience aesthetic attraction, for example walking down the street and seeing someone and thinking "wow they're pretty/cute/handsome", and more rarely sexual attraction, seeing someone and thinking "wow they're hot/sexy". To me it is quite self evident that i experience sexual attraction, but am sure the specifics of this will vary from person to person. Despite being aroallo i feel like i will probably never have sex, as i am not outgoing or conventionally attractive enough for casual sex and i think that the chances of finding someone else (probably also aroallo) to have a platonic sexual relationship with are slim. However i have made peace with this, and sharing such a close bond with the asexual community has shown me that you can have a long and fulfilling life without sex. However it is something i would very much like to try, i just don't think it would be the end of the world if it doesn't. I would like someday to have some form of more committed platonic relationship, and this is something that does bother me, because it sometimes feels like my life will lack direction without the traditional fall in love, get married, buy a house, 2.5 kids, retire together life plan that is expected of me. However at the moment i am perfectly contented without such a relationship.

It is important to note that my experiences are far from universal, and any label we put onto orientation or gender is an attempt by humans to categorise a beautiful and complicated spectrum of experience. If you feel like aroallo is a fit for you, then feel free to use it!

I apologise for rambling and i hope that at least some of this is useful to you. Again, feel free to ask me any other questions.

[callofdooty]

Damn, I missed the Walruss bingo. Did you do Ajax/Keegan yet? Or am I gonna have to send another ask with ANOTHER ship lmao

Luckily Ajax/Keegan as not been done yet!!

These two... entirely snuck up on me. One minute it was "they'd be a cute pair" and the next it was "I am fucking OBSESSED"

I really do see these two as being quite a sweet pairing. Just two people who find each other at the right time. I headcanon that Ajax was the first one to properly get close to Keegan, and helped him warm up to the others. In "A Place To Get Away From All The Cold" (A.K.A "The Hypothermia Fic") Keegan describes Ajax as being one of the few people that has ever accomodated for him, likely the first person to truly know him as he is.

It's about the tenderness that you can apply to these two. The fucking. Softness. It kills me. It really kills me. And maybe none of this rings true to anyone else, maybs this is only the way I write them, but either way, I adore it.

SPOILERS FOR COD: GHOSTS BELOW THE CUT!!!

++ Also just a long-ass fucking ramble abt these two

!!!TW FOR DEATH, VIOLENCE AND OTHER CANON-TYPICAL SHIT!!!

SO Let's talk abt the not so sweet stuff.

The angst potential is through the fucking roof with these two, especially when it comes to Ajax's death. Not only do we see Keegan losing his shit a little while trying to find him (Like I'd say Struck Down has some of Keegan's most genuinely aggressive moments, compared to other missions where he's just doing things for the sake of the mission), but we see all of that aggressiveness completely disappear when they finally find him, and it just melts into quiet despair.

"It's bad." Is all he says.

They were too late. And I could only imagine the fucking chill that must've ran through Keegan's blood the second Ajax uses his final breaths to tell them that it was Rorke who did all of this.

Also the fact that Keegan is the one to shout for Ajax when they find him? You'd kind of expect it to be Merrick as the more talkative one. But it's fucking Keegan that yells for him. The guy that doesn't really talk unless he needs to.

And I did already go through Ajax's situation in his bingo but FUCK IT WE'RE SAYING IT AGAIN. Keegan and Merrick finally showing up was probably bittersweet for Ajax. On one hand, he knew he wasn't going to make it. He knew that this was where he'd die, in a darkened room where a kill list of his entire team - found family - taunts him from the far wall. And not only is he unable to tell them, he's actively added to those plans to endanger them because he broke and told Rorke about the safehouse.

But then he hears Keegan. And then Keegan is there, holding him as he chokes on his own fading life. He won't be alone in his final moments, the ones he loves are there with him (well, two of them are at least) but he can't let go peacefully. Not when he knows so much. So he fights against his own dying body to try and warn them. He can't get much out, he resorts to just pointing out the wall. He can't apologise for the danger he's put them in - unbeknownst to them - and he can't apologise to Keegan.

Keegan. Who probably looks anguished. Maybe even scared. And maybe Ajax thinks back to Sand Viper, where he first saw those pained eyes, and it dawns on him that this is it. 22 years of survival and it ends like this.

Are they already together by this point? Is Keegan forced to sit there and watch his love die, all while being told it was his former captain that did it? Forced to watch knowing he wasn't quick enough to save him?

Or had they not even been able to confess yet? Leaving both of them with so many unspoken regrets.

Either way, Ajax doesn't pass with peace of mind. Ajax dies feeling guilty, feeling like a culprit of a crime he'd never even dream of ever comitting. He feels like he's failed them. He feels like he's betrayed them, abandoning them in a mess he helped in making, despite how hard he fought against it.

He probably worries about what's going to happen to Keegan. Because he won't be there to make sure he doesn't spiral over Rorke turning on them. He won't be there to comfort him, just like how Keegan is silently trying to comfort him now.

Keegan's world shatters the moment Ajax takes his final breath. When Merrick checks out the wall with Hesh, Keegan just sits there for a few moments before closing Ajax's eyes. You can just fucking tell from the way he acts for that entire scene how much Ajax meant to him and the Ghosts.

And then he has to carry Ajax's body out of there. At least they actually get to recover his body.

Also for added heartbreak: When Rorke taunts them about Ajax being dead, you can see how Keegan reacts to it.

If you check out this video at 1:15 you can see it fully.

Reminds me of when people tilt their head to try and stop themselves from crying (smth I have done before) but it also could be him resisting the urge to put a bullet through Rorke's skull right then and there. And then he just kinda slips away off-screen.

So. Yeah. This shit is. I love them. I really love them. My heart hurts for them so much.

[missnight0wl]

I have many thoughts about Jacob & MC's in-game parents

Some of which are :

Exactly WHAT year did they split up in ?

Why did they split up ?

Which side of the family did Jacob & MC inherit their Legilimency from, their father's side or their mother's side ?

Is Jacob & MC's last name their father's last name or their mother's maiden name ?

What year were Jacob & MC's parents born in ? ( I'm assuming they were both born somewhere between September 1st 1942 and August 31st 1943 )

Is there a possibility that Peregrine may have had an affair with another woman ( or more than one affair ) during his marriage to Jacob & MC's mother ( either willingly or possibly while under the effects of the Imperious Curse ) that may or may not have resulted in him knowingly/unknowingly siring an illegitimate child ( or more than one illegitimate child ) ?

In regards to questions 2 & 6, yes I admit that Peregrine being away from home way too often due to work may have caused enough strain on the relationship to result in separation or divorce ( especially if there had been more than one argument regarding Peregrine's job ), but I don't think it's the sole reason behind Jacob & MC's parents separating

If Peregrine WAS seeing another woman behind his wife's back, since his job involves traveling, it would be easier for him to cover up the affair. I also think that IF Peregrine had an affair, the affair might have began somewhere between the birth of Jacob & the birth of MC.

Maybe the reason behind the 9-10 year age gap between Jacob & MC was because their mother had experienced some miscarriages in the years between their births or had trouble getting pregnant again after Jacob's birth ?

I feel like Peregrine may have originally planned to have a big family ( I'm assuming for selfish reasons ), but his wife having trouble conceiving or having miscarriages in the years after giving birth to Jacob may have put a damper on those plans ( hence why he might have started having an affair )

Now, if Jacob & MC DO have a half-sibling ( or more than one half-sibling ) running about, either

A.) The mother of Jacob & MC's half-sibling(s) is a member of R & the half-sibling(s) grew up believing in R's goals and may or may not know that Jacob & MC are their half-siblings

B.) Some of the R members kidnapped the half-sibling(s) from their birth mother when they were very young & were raised by an R member and may or may not know that Jacob and MC are their half-siblings

Or C.) The half-sibling(s) grew up with their birth mother without much or any knowledge about their birth father & zero knowledge about their birth siblings

Now that I think about it, Peregrine might have been cheating on Jacob & MC's mother before they had even gotten married ( cause I have a feeling that Peregrine was very popular amoung the female student body during his time at Hogwarts )

Sorry if this ended up being a very long ask and I apologize if I ended up rambling for most of it 😅

Once again, I apologise for the very late reply. I'm a bit distracted lately, guys. However, if it takes me longer to answer, it's absolutely not because I don't want to discuss things with you. On the contrary, I always want to give you as thorough answer as I can, so I don't want to do it when I'm not in the right state of mind, let's say.

I'll try to address all of your points, but that being said, I'll also link some of my previous posts. I just feel like I explained some issues pretty well in the past already, and so I assume it'll be the most informative for you.

Now, without further ado!

1. It is unknown, and I'd say the information we got is rather confusing. It's being said all the time that MC was very young when Peregrine left their family. At one point, Jacob even says:

And MC said in the same conversation, for example:

Then we also had this:

And honestly, I think it'd make the most sense if MC was 3-4 when Perry left. However, nothing was ever confirmed. And then Peregrine said this about the amulet:

Now, it definitely implies that Peregrine was still with his family when he found the amulet. The thing is that 10 years ago MC was 7-8. Admittedly, Peregrine said "for over ten years", but if it was much more than 10... why he didn't simply say: “for over 15 years”, for example? I know JC hates being specific with dates, but “over 15” is still quite vague and at least more consistent with what was said before.

2. The official version is that it’s because Peregrine chose work over family.

And while I see why you might not be convinced by it, I think it’s quite reasonable. I mean, it was the time of war when Peregrine started disappearing. It’s understandable, in my opinion, that the Mother eventually was like: “If you can’t stay to keep us safe, I don’t need you in my life at all”. And sure, it’s possible that Peregrine’s prolonged absence had something to do with his affairs, but… I just don’t see anything in the game that could confirm it. I honestly believe that Peregrine chose WORK over his family. I think he has a bit of a god complex, judging by the way he talked that his job was helping people and whatnot. I talked more about it not long after he was introduced to the story, in this post.

3. It was never confirmed by the game, but I believe that Peregrine is a Legilimens. I talked about it more HERE.

4. It is unknown. Peregrine was referred to as “Mr Lastname” just once, by Penny. However, it can be interpreted in different ways. More about it HERE.

5. Again, it is unknown. However, some speculations can be made. Personally, I still believe that Jacob was born in 1966 (full analysis of Jacob’s age available HERE). Now, assuming that the Mother got pregnant very shortly after graduation, it’d mean that they were about 18 when it happened and then 19 when Jacob was born – meaning that Peregrine and the Mother were born in 1947 or earlier.

6. It is possible, but as I mentioned already, I don’t see anything in the game that could confirm it or even hint at it. It’s a “Schrödinger's Cat” theory: it’s both possible and impossible, simply because we don’t have enough information.

It’s also hard for me to comment on the rest of your message because it’s based on assumptions. To be clear, I’m not saying that you’re wrong. I just think it’s not necessarily the only explanation for what we know so far. For example, a while ago, I proposed that perhaps Peregrine and the Mother split up TWICE and that’s the reason why there’s a big age difference between MC and Jacob (more about it in this post). Is it possible that Peregrine had an affair in the meantime? Sure, but it’s also possible that he didn’t. And yes, it was said that Perry was always a charmer, but it doesn’t have to mean he was a womanizer. It CAN mean that, but it doesn’t have to mean that. For example, during our conversation with Dumbledore, Peregrine actually mentions the Mother:

… but there’s no comment by Dumbledore that “Many girls were interested in Peregrine before he settled with your mother” or something. You know what I mean?

The same goes for any potential half-sibling(s). I don’t see anything in the game hinting at that. However, JC still can pull it out of their ass, just like they did with Peregrine himself.

[variousqueerthings]

When i was writing it i also kept think about blindfolded Hawkeye, all evidence really does point towards him loving it...

He really does get lead and pushed around so often, I'd love to see someone's take on how it contrasts with his control and responsibilities as chief surgeon. Even outside of surgery, the contrast of him being with someone and then having a nurse or doctor coming in to ask for help or giving him an update on a patient and how he can swap between both mindsets ect.

I firmly believe that Hawkeye would valiantly try to be had by all of the nurses if given the time and opportunity. And any attention is good attention is the sort of mindset that Hawkeye would take and then promptly act like a terror until he got the attention he wants. I feel like he wouldnt have to do this with bj as much as others but he does anyways just to be a problem.

Margaret's a strange one bc it would make sense considering her personality and Hawkeye's interest but like, idk. I think its too much of a contrast in my head from his refusal to show her respect as a major, their relationship in the later seasons (in my head) hinges so much on their views of each other as equals and i think the power dynamics would be a mess.

Its kind of funny how they have Hawkeye acknowledge how sexist some of his actions were when i feel like i always remember there being more women in those earlier seasons. I might be misremembering but i feel like if theyre going to do that they could at least make female characters more core. Like not every woman has to be plot relevant to be featured.

Aro Hawkeye my beloved <3<3 I get him, he loves his friends so much it hurts and also is so so horny. He deserves to be held gently and then absolutely railed and then held again.

-majoranon

(listen okay sometimes I get worried that an ask is too personal or inappropriate so i hold off sending my name with it but the fact that you knew it was me is so funny. What tipped you of?)

Alright, post the first out of... maybe three (maybe four)! (the others of which will be about women in MASH and much shorter I think + blindfold Hawkeye + some more aro talks beyond this + idk, sometimes you’ve just got to see where the typing takes you)

THE FIRST THING I DO IS APOLOGISE FOR THE RAMBLES AND THE FACT THAT I COULD WRITE THIS BETTER AND MORE SOURCED IF MY BRAIN WAS WORKING AND I HAD TIME... I don’t, I’m sad....

I’d originally put your message into bits and was answering them one at a time, but then everything started being about a few of the same things, SO

trust me this all comes from your message 😂 

This post: aro Hawkeye 🤝 aro Margaret and my actual dream relationship on the show (or, you’ll never guess where this meta/headcanon is going, or maybe you will, idk)

ALSO KNOWN AS: I make the argument that Hawkeye and Margaret are already in an aromantic life-partnership and so her occasionally topping him is really just a part of the benefits for both of them (but also I barely make the latter half of that argument, I’m sorry, I go all over the place with this one)

I think (and I mentioned that in another post) that Hawkeye being chief surgeon and Very Good at his high-stress job is a feature in this entire (somewhat jokey, but also haha kidding... unless... you know?) headcanon -- lots of people with those kinds of jobs want to get to shut off any decision-making/responsibilities outside of that space and we see that a lot with Hawkeye (in a non-sexual sense). He really really hates being in charge when it’s not about the job 

I just rewatched Carry On, Hawkeye and I love how there’s that scene where Margaret is like “I should be in charge now” and Hawkeye basically goes “absolutely, have at it,” but because she’s so used to him being contrarian and bitchy with her, she thinks he’s arguing that she shouldn’t 

and it gives us this interesting line:

and then in the same episode having just given Margaret the reports she needed, if we’re going for the “Hawkeye and strong women/Hawkeye and I’m just a little guy/Hawkeye and putting himself on the table” well...

literally.... on the table....

(Margaret if you’re in charge you have to get used to a lanky weirdo lying about on your desk, that’s just who he is)

and then of course:

S I R (mr alan alda, you cannot tell me this guy has never been topped by a woman (we leave domming out of the discussion for today kids, but youknow.. it’s Margaret, she of the riding crop and vibrator))

Anyway this takes us neatly into “Margaret and Hawkeye” territory... 

*

1. first there’s all this stuff around sexuality and gender and romance and relationships happening between those two -- Margaret and “sir” and incorrect womanhood leading her relationships to not work and being openly sexual (and highly suggested dominating), Hawkeye and calling himself “aunt” and being a motherhen and all the being pregnant jokes, and being stepped on jokes, and “joking” about being married to men, etcetcetc -- 

of course the crux of which is that amazing conversation they have in “Stars and Stripes” in which it’s made textual how similar they are in their ideas about relationships. One of the main reasons I like to hc them as aro is that the way they phrase it is so... vague.... they can’t pinpoint why it never works out for them, time and time again, other than “they can’t change who they are,” and they’re looking for a “custom fit,” but at least with Hawkeye he’s been shown to “fall in love” with people very fast (Erika, Kyung Soon, Inga, etc) and (due to the nature of syndication) get over those relationships again/fall in love with someone new just as fast -- and a note on Erika is that he’s literally suggesting marriage and she’s the one to shut him down (in an also very aro way)

not to mention Carlye whom he proposes to have been in love with for years/never gotten over, but when given the chance for a do-over doesn’t leap at the chance... again because of vague “you choose your job over romantic relationships” reasons (any aromantic who can relate to that reasoning/has literally scoured for historical people who were described that way, raise your hands) 

with Margaret you do get the sense that she’d wanted these relationships/that she invests in them, but that the men can never accept her as she is (which Hawkeye does -- and he doesn’t even do it on purpose, to begin with they’re scratching and clawing at each other as we all know), so you see, she’d love to be in a romantic relationship if only she were a completely different person, but alas she can’t be and so she’ll never be a correct woman (again, any aro who’s felt that connection between brokenness and incorrect gender and aroness raise your hands...) and to stretch that one even further, the imagery in “Dreams” of her in the wedding dress with those bodies of men in her bed and the miscarriage-looking blood-stain, it’s all... very evocative of that same incorrect/broken woman, who will never get those things that society promises are what brings happiness that she won’t have and maybe doesn’t even want, but what’s the alternative being offered here? 

dead bodies and a lifetime of being alone?

*

2.  I think it’s interesting that you said that because Margaret’s and Hawkeye’s later relationship hinges on them being equals that the power dynamics would be a mess, when that respect is actually the very thing that makes me think of them being perfect for each other in this scenario – there’s a lot of trust and vulnerability that goes into that, especially considering aforementioned gendered expectations and the ways they both already fuck around with them, and how well they know each other at that point. And if I’m gonna take “Inga” at face value, Hawkeye isn’t as out about his (in this headcanon) preferences as one might have thought, so being vulnerable with a stranger? Or someone who isn’t as under his skin as Margaret is?  

What I do wonder about is whether later seasons Hawkeye is… all that interested in sex? Overall? Comparatively? Sure, there’s the occasional “Hawkeye has a date” or “Hawkeye does some flirting (with friends),” but – I will go more into this in my next post about women in MASH – when he talks to Marina in opening s10 about how he’s not treated women right in the past + has seen too much to ever be wide-eyed again, it is both good reasons to blow her off, and also something I definitely read at face value.

It also goes into something someone said on a post (I’m sorry I cannot remember where) about how later seasons had less sex, but also less homoeroticism hand-in-hand with that, but also that it’s just that the tone is overall – for Hawkeye more than any other character (he frequently gets The Narrative end of the stick, while everyone else is having a bit of a laugh) – less light-hearted at that point, and also it may have had to do with how they wanted to write the women who did come on the show (again, for next post). My point is that it all adds up to make him seem both Really Really Tired and Much Less Interested In Sex, and then as a consequence gives it a fun read of maybe he's less interested in sex, because he’s so damn tired?

In that scenario is he looking for an occasional fun time with his good friend Margaret Houlihan who maybe would step on him wearing heels (a thing he has canonically lamented her not doing at one point on the show) if he asked nicely and called her sir? Or is it that by the time they become good enough friends that he might trust her and she might trust him with these sexual and gender transgressions, he’s not in a place to try and make anything like this happen at all, because he’s just… tired?

But overall, I do think out of anyone at the 4077th… except for maybe Klinger (and also Sid, if we’re going beyond-but-adjacent), Margaret is the person who might be able to accommodate for Hawkeye the best, and Hawkeye might be able to give Margaret something she doesn’t entirely know how to balance with other men (the one downside is that technically Margaret would wanna be doing something like this with a guy like Trapper – bigger/more traditionally outwardly masculine, but it’s not like she doesn’t find Hawkeye attractive/I don’t think it would be a total dealbreaker – anyway, also smthinsmthin Hawkeye and Margaret are often attracted to the same kinda guy… as for women, I think Hawkeye is pretty broad, while Margaret likes Strong Women (similar to the men))

Meanwhile Margaret, it feels like, has prepared herself for this lifetime of loneliness, except she’s got this family all around her and maybe this guy who’s also not looking for normative relationship structures and is also Not Correct in vague, unspoken (queer) ways. But maybe, again, around the time where it could conceivably be going on, neither of them are in that headspace or maybe they can get each other out of the more tragedy-filled-careening-towards-the-end-of-the-narrative headspace, I can’t say for sure until I’ve finished the show

and speaking of that unknowable space...

What about after the show then?

*

3. So here’s some stuff I can’t know until I’ve finished it -- I don’t know where Hawkeye ends up and I don’t know where Margaret ends up (or anyone else for that matter), but I do think they’re the two characters who are the most conflicted at this point and likely will be right through to the end 

Margaret has made a choice to not get into a romantic relationship with anyone unless they understand her as she is, and so to all intents and purposes has practically sworn off romantic relationships -- this is also framed as her putting her career first, although not entirely. It’s more like she’s putting herself first, but also… there’s something there that doesn’t quite fit. It’s certainly more possible for her to stick with the military than to conform to a housewife ideal, because she’s been with the military her whole life, but she also no longer idealizes what it is and stands for. I really do wonder where she’ll be by the end and I sort of assume she’ll stay with the military, but I also read that somewhat through the lens of disappointing, but expected romances.

Because she’s changed a lot. I don’t think the military really is her home, but I don’t think she knows of anywhere else to go. So I wouldn’t be surprised if she stays with it – I think it would be in character – I just think it would be bittersweet. Better than a marriage, but also not as good as she could do if she could unpack some more of those vague ideas that niggle in her brain (it’s queerness, but not just that, but this read of her is based around that aromanticism in particular).

And meanwhile Hawkeye is just a mess. Idk, I can’t see that changing. I also can’t see where I’d place him after the war, because I can’t see him as okay in that movie-lotr Frodo Baggins Can Never Go Home way. I can’t see anyone as technically “okay,” but I don’t think he has anyplace where he could go to attempt what people call “resuming a normal life.” Hell, I’m not even entirely sure I could see him continuing as a surgeon (that episode with the surgeon who completely breaks down is uh… well, it’s not there for nothing). Similar to Margaret, but with added PTSD, there’s all that Vagueness niggling at his brain, which maybe angers him, because he already knows he’s a big ol bisexual who falls for married men, so what gives? And he doesn’t even have a fallback like the army. At best he might simply be a surgeon or a general practitioner, but you know… The Horrors. I can’t see him as anything but haunted for the rest of his life

And so thinking of a dream scenario where they both somehow make it and it’s not just “trying to get by (trying to get by in the army, trying to get by back in Maine, trying to remember what “home” is supposed to be)” I’m like… what if they just moved in together and tried to deal with the Vagueness together, same as they’ve done multiple times on the show? 

(And sidenote I maybe should’ve gotten into earlier, it’s so interesting that their romantic travails are shared with one another more than any other character -- Hawkeye is the person who knows the most about what was going on with her and Frank/Don/Sully, and she knows about him and Kyung Soon, and the aforementioned Big Conversation about The Revolving Heart Of Korea, which is said by Margaret, but is really the both of them)

(sidenote: Hawkeye is consistently the person who makes her smile like this the most)

(other other sidenote: “double-solitaire” ought to be codeword for queerplatonic aro partnership?????)

(other other other sidenote: literally just watched “Birthday Girls” in which Margaret rails against getting sympathy, but in this one she accepts it so readily from Hawkeye, and has done multiple times ever since the episode with the dog)

Margaret is the woman (maybe even the person) that Hawkeye knows best/has Hawkeye’s number and has done from very early on (but now she’s incredibly fond of that nr), Hawkeye is at least 10% of Margaret’s perfect man, it would be a great beard for the both of them, and they’d be able to draw a lot of comfort from each other.

And you know... they See Each Other and don’t expect the other person to change the core of themselves to fit, and they could challenge one another to become their most truthful selves better than anyone else could 

*

SO IN CONCLUSION WOULD MARGARET DOM HAWKEYE (is barely the question that’s been answered in this long fucking post): IT DEPENDS 

early seasons Hawkeye would have been SO up for it, but Margaret would not + it wouldn’t have been great for either of them I think? Although, sometimes they got along, even then, so maybe off the back of an episode like that... (but I do think it matters that they never canonically have sex until “Comrade in Arms”)

later seasons Hawkeye may have been too depressed for sexual frolicking and Margaret was going through an identity crisis, so idk, somewhere in between all of that somewhere? 

POST seasons Hawkeye and Margaret... maybe? depending on where you puttem? if they get to spend time together?

would they at the very least have fantasized about it? Oh yeah, absolutely!

I leave you with this image:

[dae-rise]

1st anon you answered here again - Thank you for the article links, I'll deffo check them out. Apologies as well for the assumption that you might not have considered poverty/indigenous ppl etc, as it's not something you can tell unless it's mentioned or known in person.

I think i'm so used to seeing people who are vegan to be on the extreme ends of the scale (extreme hostility towards all others who eat meat vs those who don't care at all abt what others eat but just are vegan themselves), that seeing your calmer view is actually a breath of fresh air, and it actually does make me want to further research the topic.

Whilst I don't think I'd ever be able to be a dietary vegan, I'm actually quite glad and surprised that you can be considered vegan for other reasons, such as just not buying leather - again, I think it's difficult to find views like this as the majority of views online can be quite extreme. Thanks for opening my eyes to this as well.

And finally, I definitely do agree that many ppl can be oblivious to animal agriculture and its effects, and I do think that if people are in the position where they can't eat vegetarian/vegan, they should still advocate for the improvement of animal welfare.

I do hope that you aren't too disheartened by any negative comments you got - I know I'm on anon too, but I'm just a bit scared to speak off anon, and I would feel awful sending hateful messages behind an anonymous mask. I hope you have a decent holiday season regardless.

You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say all of this! When I turned vegan (not so long ago) I felt so much joy and willingness to share my passion for the topic, only to quickly find out that people tend to criticise vegans on the spot. I have sent sources before like I did with you, but they weren't even looked at. It seems like vegans are commonly seen as individuals who are annoying, extreme, privileged and whatnot. And I'm sure some of them are like that, as it is with every other 'group' really - but don't let it mislead you into believing all vegans are like that. Truth be told, I have yet to meet one single vegan who is like that. Besides, where does this idea of the 'annoying vegan' come from? We all have it in our minds, but why? Have we actually met one? Honestly, being at a dining table with others as a vegan has been the complete opposite for me: I'm the one who gets questioned, annoyed, criticised and made fun of. I still remember the very first reaction I got at a restaurant, as soon as I revealed I am vegan: "what, is your dog vegan too? Hahaha!" and from that point on, everyone at the table began talking about veganism and how extreme it is, in front of me, without listening to me. Everybody was suddenly a nutrition expert and began trying their best to show me a point that makes veganism invalid. It felt really bad and uncomfortable, and the same thing has repeated over and over, except for a few nonvegan friends who were simply curious about my choice and asked me normal questions. I shared my experience with other vegans and they've been through the same thing if not worse. Sorry for rambling, I just really want to tell you I understand, and that I had the same idea of vegans in my mind before becoming one. But being one has opened my eyes a lot. I personally don't like classifying myself as me vs. them, that's a dangerous path to take… before being vegan, I am a person, just like you, just like them, just like us. There are no sides, as I see it.

Thank you for apologising, I'm sorry as well if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I promise I did not mean to guilt trip anyone with my drawing, and it's absolutely great that you came and told me what you think about it! It means the world to me when someone tells me what they think or feel about my art. You're right, online views can be extreme, and I admit I have reblogged posts that felt like an accusatory finger pointed at nonvegans, but I'm still learning. Those posts feel kind of comforting, especially when others attack my beliefs (which happens a bit too often with veganism). But I'm going to try my best to keep in mind how it might sound to people who aren't vegans.

Oh, and yeah, right? I've always thought that being vegan means not eating any animal product or byproduct. A lot of people have this misconception in their minds, so when I read the actual definition of veganism, I was surprised! I quote, "Veganism is a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose" it is just so liberating to read, isn't it? All I need to do is whatever is in my power and within my possibilities to reduce, as much as I can, my contributions to the animal agricolture industry. There is no such thing as a perfect vegan. But I can still do something, and that will be enough. For example, I personally chose to go down the dietary route (I just baked a vegan blueberry cake, hehe!) but I have yet to exclude animal products from my clothing (I have some clothes that partially contain wool, but I decided not to donate them for now - I'm taking it one step at a time). As you can see, it's really not as black and white as it is commonly believed. I'm just doing what I can.

It's okay to be on anon. I have an idea of who you are, but of course, I can't be sure. What matters is that you were so very kind with your asks and I'm grateful ❤️ Well, the other anon is clearly going through a lot and I just wish I could've helped more. There are far worse things I could've received so I'm okay, don't worry! Please let me know what you think of the stuff I linked you. Don't let anything guilt you. This will be simply you reading about things and learning from different sources. And I applaud you for it!

Merry Christmas, if you celebrate it ⭐

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

[undercityviktor]

Heyyyy can't believe you don't have more asks/interaction! Your writing is honestly wonderful, I love how on point your characterisation is, especially for Viktor! He's my favourite character and a lot of people portray him as...helpless, or pitiful bc of his disability, with Jayce as his knight in shining armor, which is just weird because he's so strong-willed and capable in canon! I love how you write him <3

Plus, your scenarios, no matter how far removed from canon (eg, massage au - hint hint, LOVE IT CAN'T WAIT FOR UPDATE) feel true to life and not crack-fic-y because of how in-character the people feel! Which is honestly really hard to pull off.

You should post more of your written things on ao3! Tumblr fics get a lot less visibility sadly, they get buried in the tag immediately :( Yours was like finding a nice little gem in a sea of random posts. I'd subscribe to you on ao3 instantly, your stuff deserves to get appreciated by more folks~

Sorry for the wall of text haha i'm just excited!!!!

Me, reading this: O.O

Thank you?!! So much??! I’m a fairly newish blog - I started this side-blog literally just for Arcane shenanigans - so I’m not surprised I haven’t got much traffic. And you’re right, Tumblr’s ‘system’, such as it is, is terrible for visibility. I’m largely reliant on reblogs of those who do stumble across my dusty little corner of the Arcane fandom!

The rest of my fics are up on AO3, and they did get some lovely feedback already, which was very sweet and unexpected. I didn’t think about posting the ‘massage au’ one on my AO3 yet because it isn’t finished and honestly, I didn’t think anyone would really be interested in it anyway. Now that I know that there’s interest, I’ll add it to my little library over there, so thank you (and thanks to anyone who commented on it as well).

As for Viktor, it personally frustrates me deeply when characters with disabilities are treated as fragile or incapable and in need of a hero. I wanted Jayce to be respectful of Viktor’s boundaries in my fic, and for Viktor to have control over those boundaries. That’s not to say Jayce might not accidentally fuck up - he’s a naturally caring and tactile person after all - but Viktor’s autonomy is respected, and he gets to make the decisions about what Jayce does to and with his body.

For an illustration of the vibes I’m going for, take the incident in the show on the bridge (Ep.7) where Viktor slaps Jayce’s hand away as a reminder that Jayce overstepped, and when Jayce apologises for making assumptions from a place of privilege (regarding people from the Undercity this time), his reward is that Viktor permits him to touch him again almost immediately. Viktor clearly welcomes Jayce’s touch (regardless how you interpret their actual canon relationship), but on his terms. The title of my significantly AU fic is ‘Your Hands on My Body’, and it’s obviously all about touch, so it might come up. That’s the dynamic I’m going for anyway. Whoof, that got very rambly, sorry!

This turned into a really waffly answer, so I’m sorry about that! Thanks again for your enthusiasm and kindness, and I hope you have a lovely day!

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 12

Home again

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n returns home

Warnings: steve almost cries, swearing maybe, kissing, mentions of violence and scars

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Steve was distraught. He sat completely still, head buried in his hands as his mind whirred. I string hand on his shoulder caused the man to look up, blue eyes meeting Tony's brown ones which were filled with sorrow and pity.

"I know you love her, but it's over Steve. They have her there's-" a crack in his voice made the billionaire pause, "there's nothing we can do this time."

"But I left her, Tony!" Steve shouted, standing up abruptly. "I could've saved her, and I didn't!" Steve's face was red, Tony's face taken aback. "She's your daughter and I didn't even save her..."

"Hey, stop." Tony snapped, pulling Steve's attention to him instantly. "I know she's my daughter but I also know that you love her enough that you wouldn't give up on her if you did t have too!" Tony wanted to shout, to scream at his friend.

"He's right, Steve. Well all know you love her." Nat smirked, arms crossed over her chest as she now leant in the doorway.

"How long have you been standing there?" Steve asked and Nat simply quirked a brow. Steve nodded and realised she'd most probably been there the entire time. "And how do you know...?"

"That your in love with y/n?" Nat clarified. Steve nodded. "It's obvious, Capsicle. You literally give her heart eyes whenever she's not looking and you always fidget when you're around her. But my favourite part," Nat pushed off the door frame, walking into the room, "is that you act like you hate her. I new you didn't have great experience with women, but I didn't know it was that bad." She remarked and Steve made to protest but was cut off.

"She's right, y'know. There's no way in hell a girl's gonna ask you out if you critique every last thing about her and give her the evil eyes every time she looks at you." Tony added, making Steve shut his mouth and stare at the ground again.

"B-but it's been weeks." Steve stuttered. "What's if she's... what if they killed her, Tony? I think that's on my. Her blood would be on my hands." He rambled, and Tony was about to reply when Bruce appeared at the door.

"You guys might want to come downstairs." He said quietly, and the three avengers already in the room looked at each other, confused. Steve quickly swiped the threatening tears from his eyes, him and Tony making their way down the stairs as fast as they could.

...

I burst through the doors, immediately met with the sight of Tony pointing to some papers the person next to him was holding and discussing something with them. My face broke out into the biggest smile, the sight of my dad after the hell I'd been through like a shelter from the rain.

I waved frantically, already breaking into a run towards him, his head snapping up at the wild movement and his face morphing into one of shock and relief, his arms held open.

"Lil?" His voice was full of concern as my arms wrapped around his neck when we collided, my legs wrapping around his waist and his hands finding their place on my back. "Oh my god, Lil, you scared us so much, scared me." He whispered into my hair, pulling back enough to cup my face in his hands. "It's you." I smiled.

I nodded my head furiously, burying my wet face into his shoulder, jumping down from the embrace.

"Lily?" The unsure voice from the edge of the room caught my attention, a grin spreading on his lips seeing me. I held back tears looking at him, my smile still wide. He walked towards me, enveloping me in a hug so tight it could crush a normal person. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." He kept saying, his hand tangled in my hair.

I shook my head, sorrow filling my eyes as in stared at the man that had engulfed me with his body. He pulled back, looking sternly into my eyes.

"I know you think I hate you. But, I wouldn't wish what happened to you on anyone, Lily. Not even my worst enemy." Steve whispered, his eyes clouded with pity.

"Well that's new." Tony remarked seeing us hug, confusion lacing his tone. "Hey, kid, what's with the mute?" He pondered as I gave no verbal reply, Steve now looking deeply concerned for me too.

I sighed through my nose, pulling back the collar of the jacket to reveal the long, vermillion scar across my neck.

"You should go see the others, they'll be happy to know you're back." Tony said with a pitiful smile.

...

A million warm embraces later, tears shared and hearty laughs exchanged, I was just about ready to fall asleep and never wake up. I was about to excuse myself when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Steve, a stoic expression on his face.

"Can we talk?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. I nodded, following him out into the hallway. I laid my shoulder against the wall, observing Steve's constant pacing.

So what's up?

I quickly jotted down, handing the small electronic device Tony had retrieved for me to Steve, raising a brow. He stopped, looking me in the eye. He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, I let him do that to you. It's my fault. I don't even know how to live with myself, I should've come looking for you, or-" I cut him off with a tap on the shoulder as I handed him the pad.

Cap, it's fine. I'm fine.

I stressed, writing in italics. The man read it with furrowed brows. cleared my throat before continuing.

I just don't know how long I can keep pretending to be happy, I just want to die.

I finally confessed, vision blurred and screen obscured with tears. A tear rolled down my cheek.

I don't know how to go on, every tome I close my eyes all I see him, what he did

My gaze averted from his as he read.

"Hey, hey. You're strong, you can do this. Let's go get you cleaned up." Steve suggested, looking at my through his lashes and placing a careful hand on my shoulder, which I flinched away from. I gulped.

Steve, there's a reason he let me go

I wrote down, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of questions he didn't dare ask.

He let me go to send a message. He said that if we interfere with him again what happened to me will be child's play compared to what will happen.

His face dropped.

If a few days of torture is child's play, what does he have planned?

I asked, sobbing now.

"Lily, you were gone for three weeks." Steve added quietly, making me look up from where I'd been starting at the floor to meet his eyes. My eyes widened. Steve grimaced, nodding solemnly.

"Go have a shower, I'll grab you some fresh clothes and a towel. We'll talk more when you're feeling warmer and cleaner." He suggested again, and was met with a nod from me this time.

We reached my room, Steve holding the door opening for me and me giving a tiny smile that said 'thanks' as I walked in. I headed straight for the bathroom, taking my time in peeling the ripped tank top from my body and throwing the muddied shorts on the floor with them. Just then, the door opened, Steve walking in with a towel and some cloths folded on top. His eyes widened and he instantly apologised.

"Sorry, lily, I thought you'd be in the shower by now." But before he could walk out his eyes finally locked on me. His eyes raked over me, his eyes surveying my wrists, which were rubbed red-raw from chains and ropes; my neck, which was red and violently bruised; my bruised upper arms; my waist that was covered with finger-shaped bruises; my thighs, that were also bruised and finally my back that starred at him in the mirror. It was a mess of diagonal cuts, which were not longer bleeding but were still a blood red colour. I looked down at my feet nervously, feeling weird under his gaze.

"He did this to you?" Steve asked, tears in his eyes. I nodded, slowly looking back up at him. Before he could say anything else I cupped his face in my hands, smashing my lips to his in a kiss that conveyed everything I could never say out loud. After a moment, his hands reached for my face, returning the kiss. Our lips welded together, his tongue poking at my lower lip, begging for entrance that I granted. His tongue rolled over mine in languid stroked, soothing. I pulled back first, turning and pulling the shower curtain open. I climbed in, turning on the water and getting lost in the warmth and steam that swallowed me.

...

I walked out the bathroom, clad in one of Steve's T-shirt he grabbed for me, some shorts and fresh underwear. He must've noticed that I liked stealing Tony's shirts and given me one of his instead. Rubbing my hair dry with a towel, I dumped it on a near-by chair when my hair was only damp. Steve instantly stood from where he was sat on the edge of my bed when he saw me, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

I began writing, but before I could finish his lips were on mine and the little device was dropped to the floor. It was less desperate that the last time, more passionate and slow. It expressed everything we needed to say, and that was enough. My arms hooked around his neck, my fingers playing with the hairs at the base of his neck, whilst one of his tangled in my hair, the other resting on my cheek.

"You talk too much." He mumbled against my lips and we both let out a breath meant to be a laugh. "Too soon?" He asked before leaning in for another, our lips locking together. He pulled back and looked in my eyes, his hand running through my dampened hair.

He cleared his throat, stepping back from me, his gaze flitting from the door before landing back on me.

"I should go." He spoke, heading for the door. As he placed his hand on the door knob he froze at when I tapped on his broad back.

Don't.

The little device said. He had a hopeful look in his eyes.

Go. Don't go. Please.

I wrote , looking at him with pleading eyes. He nodded, walking back over to me.

I don't think I can be alone tonight.

I stated before climbing into my bed and patting the spot next to me. Steve hesitantly climes in beside me, laying behind me and draping his arm over my waist, pulling me into his firm chest. His body heat radiated over me and sleep soon took over as I sunk into him, his hand playing with my hair.

...

"Lil? Lily? Lily!" I shot up, panting hard and sweat covering my forehead. I slowly look to the side where Tony sat, a concerned look filling his eyes. My gaze looked at the door, where Steve stood, looking over me with what looked like fear, before going back to Tony. "Hey, kiddo, what happed?" He asked, stoking my hair. I swallowed thickly, breathing calmed down.

"You were restless, moving about in your sleep." Steve clarifies from the door, not wearing what he was before. He must've left after I fell asleep. I motioned for Tony to pass me the device which sat on the bedside table and he handed to to me.

I was back there. He was

I couldn't finish writing, the device falling from my shaking hand onto the duvet as I bit back tears, sinking into the embrace Tony held me in.

[cats-art-and-dinosaurs]

Hello @annwritesallday I was your secret cupid for @rdr-secret-cupid :)

I apologise for the delay, my health kinda let me down and thus, I lost a lot of time.

I'm also more used to drawing, but your requests leaned more towards writing soooo... a chance to try something new, I guess? :)

English also isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes!

Characters: Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan

Themes: Friendship, Emotional Comfort I guess?

Warnings: Hints at animal cruelty, emotional abuse and not so healthy drinking behavior

Summary: Arthur drinks a bit too much and tells Charles about his feelings (friendship)

-----------

The sun had set hours ago at Clemens Point and by now, the lake was full of stars. It was a warm night, and in Charles opinion much more pleasent than the suffocating humid heat that lay over them during the days in this area.

He let out a sigh of relief as he sat down near the shore of the lake at the edge of camp. Drunken laughter and cheerful voices swept over to him, but they were dulled by the calm water in front of him.

Hosea had pulled of some kind of small scam today and had returned to camp with a crate of beer and a big smile on his face. One thing led to another and soon the overall interest in work and chores around camp had significantly lessened and rather turned towards storytelling, joking and singing.

And so, not much work got done that day, and though Charles did take over some of the other's chores, there was still plenty to do. But that had to wait until tomorrow. It had been a long day and he was glad to finally have a quiet moment for himself.

He had considered joining Kieran at the scout fire, but the latter had also been doing more work around camp today than usual and not being the most outgoing person, he was probably grateful to have some time alone.

And so Charles had found himself this little spot at the shore, but after a few minutes, he heard footsteps approaching him.

The person stumbled a few times, clearly having had a bit too much whiskey, but Charles still recognized the man without having to turn around.

"Arthur."

"Hello Charles", Arthur greeted him and giggled as he struggled to keep his balance while trying to sit down next to him.

Arthur hadn't been around camp for the past few days and had just come back this afternoon, a frown on his face and a distant look in his eyes. Something had definetly been on his mind and Charles wondered if Arthur had tried to wash it away with the alcohol. He hoped he was wrong.

His thoughts were interupted by Arthur's slighty slurred voice.

"Really nice. The lake, it's... is really nice. It's... so much calm water. I like it. I feel..."

There was a shift in his voice and he paused.

Charles turned his head to look at Arthur, trying to figure out what was bothering him. But Arthur didn't even seem to know himself as he gestured with his hands, triyng to find the right words, which appearently was made more difficult by the alcohol in his veins.

"I... I just... feel awful."

It was a miserabel sight, really. Usually Arthur was well aware of the intimidating effect his size and appearance could have on others. He didn't even have to do much, just stand tall, maybe cross his arms and put on a mean face.

But the man who now sat next to Charles on the dirty ground was nothing like that. He was slumped over, suddenly appearing much smaller than he actually was, not even trying to hide the emotions displayed on his face.

"Why? Arthur, did something happen?"

"Well, yeah... I think, I... There was this man and his - his horse... he said it died and he asked me to give him a ride."

Arthur paused for a moment, letting out a defeated sigh, "I wanted to help him but it was a stupid... stupid trap an' he'd killed the horse himself to make it look real and... and I jus' wanted to help."

He stopped once again, but this time, a small sob escaped Arthur. And Charles was glad the other man had to pause, as he himself also needed a moment to let it sink in.

It seemed so small and insignificant compared to other acts of violence he had witnessed over the years, and maybe that was why it wasn't easy to understand. Killing a horse so you had the element of surprise while attempting to rob someone, not even knowing if they had any money at all? It didn't make sense.

Next to him, Arthur was failing to keep his tears in check, so Charles carefully put his hand on his shoulder.

Arthur's body tensed up for a moment and Charles felt a wave of disappointment rush through him, afraid that now Arthur would turn away and never open up to him ever again.

But after a few seconds, Arthur relaxed and continued to talk, "I thought I knew what I was doing. Jus' wanted to do something right, as in... do the right thing. And I don't know why it's so... so hard for me."

No matter how tough and dense Arthur sometimes acted, Charles knew there was more to him. He wasn't quite sure yet what exactly, but people were complicated after all. However, some seemed to be more complicated than others. And seeing Arthur so hurt and confused? Somehow, it confused Charles too.

Arthur sniffed and finally turned his gaze to the younger outlaw, "It's so easy for you and I just... don't even understand what's right and what's wrong. Always have to think about it. I think I'm jealous... because you just... you just do what's right without wondering what the right thing is. And I don't even know what's right. I don't even know why I don't know. No idea what I'm doing. I just - "

"Arthur, stop that."

"What?"

"Talking like that. It's nonsense."

While Arthur had been rambling on, Charles had recognized one of the emotions that was growing stronger within him right now. With every single word Arthur got out with shaky breaths, his anger grew. It wasn't directed at Arthur, but rather at the situation. And he had to do something about it.

Arthur didn't try to back away, his eyes were fixed on his face, probably stunned by his sudden change of tone.

With his hand still firmly on Arthur's shoulder, Charles continued, "I don't know where you're getting these ideas from, but it's not true."

"I..."

"Arthur, I know you've probably had one or two beer too many. But don't think I didn't notice that you're always putting yourself down, wether you're sober or not."

Arthur blinked a few times, looking almost offended, "I'm not drunk, just..."

"Just a little bit drunk, I know", a small smile escaped him at Arthur's blatant lie and his tone softened, "Can you just... listen to me for a moment?"

Arthur still looked somewhat unsure, but still gave him an hesitant nod.

"I don't always know what's right. And if there's someone who claims they always do, they're lying. And whoever put those ideas in your head is also a liar."

There was a flash of realization in the teary eyes of the older outlaw and he slowly turned his head away. Someone had obviously come to Arthur's mind.

Charles had a feeling who it was and maybe Arthur was even thinking of more than one person.

But whatever the case was, given Arthur's reaction, Charles had definetly hit a nerve.

Now that he had, Charles almost felt a bit guilty. Almost.

He pushed those feelings away and instead focused on Arthur again, gesturing towards the camp behind them with his free hand, "Look, all those people... The girls all had their share of... bad experiences, and they trust you. They're not naïve."

"I would never-"

"No, of course not, because you know it's wrong and given your reaction, you never even thought of it in the first place."

Arthur shook his head, a grossed out expression all over his face.

"I've seen the way you laugh together. They care about you", Charles paused at the disbelieving look Arthur gave him and rolled his eyes in response, "Don't look at me like that, they DO. You're like... this grumpy, big brother. If you don't belive me, I'll go and get them to come over so they can tell you yourself. You want me to do that?"

It was an attempt at humor, but it completly went over Arthur's head, "No, I don't want them to see me like... well..."

He tried to wipe the tears from his face, but his red eyes and nose were not easy to miss, even though the only source of light were the fires and lanterns from the nearby camp and the moon in the night sky above them.

Charles moved his hand from Arthur's shoulder to his back, carefully patting him as the other man continued to rub at his face, "It's okay Arthur. It's alright. Nothing wrong with having emotions."

He could have sworn to have heard a soft laugh from Arthur at that, and as he looked a bit closer, there actually seemed to be a genuine smile on his face.

"I mean it. There are people who go through life and don't seem to think about how what they're doing affects others at all. Like that guy who killed his horse. And even if they do, I doubt they care to much. But you obviously do care. That's a good thing."

"But?"

"But please... stop comparing yourself to me as if I'd know everything and never make mistakes. You have to think and decide for yourself."

"Hosea told me the same", there was a smile in Arthu's voice now and this time, it was mirrored by his face. Charles returned the smile, but raised his eyebrows in a manner of faked disbelief.

Arthur laughed at that and raised his finger in a scolding gesture, "Oh don't you look at me that. I'm afraid I'm not drunk enough to forget about this conversation once I'm sober again... I'm sorry, I... I guess the drink loosened the tongue... damn..."

"Well, I sure am glad it did. Someone had to... well, at least try to talk some sense into you."

But Arthur didn't respond to the teasing this time, and instead seemed to struggle to find the right words once again.

"I'm...", Arthur paused, then laid his hand on Charle's shoulder the same way the younger outlaw had done before, "Thank you. For... this, for beeing honest and... listening and... For beeing my friend."

Charles nodded, glad that he appearently had gotten through some of the self-doubt that occupied Arthur's mind.

"Charles, if... if there's ever something you'd like to talk about... I care about you, too. And if you need to talk, I'll be there too, okay?"

"I know."

[gloynporslen]

Aria, what is your favorite memory since meeting UB (bonus points for embarrassing A)?

Allow me to preface this with an apology because I am so, so sorry this took me so long! I did not anticipate this reply taking me as long to write as it did 😅 I hope you don't mind that! And I also apologise on Aria's behalf too for her being unable to conceive of ever embarrassing Adam 😂💕

Thank you, as always for being such a dear and sending me an ask - you're always a welcome presence in my inbox 💕

~~*~~

The words 'favourite memory' and 'Adam' cause her heart to skip a beat, as she refuses to make eye contact.

"Ah, well that is, you see... I have plenty of favourite memories. With the team of course!" She protests with a nervous chuckle far too weak to be anything other than awkward before beginning to ramble. "Not just with Adam because Adam's not the entire team. Besides embarrassing Adam doesn't seem like something that would ever be possible anyway because why would he ever be embarrassed by anything to do with me or me with him for that matter it's not like..."

Her breath catches in her throat, heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. Memories of his voice clear as day ring in her mind's ear even as she tries to push them out.

'The thought of your life being so endangered again, it is of great concern to me.'

'I'm pleased to be the one on this mission with you.'

"Or that..."

The heat only grows as phantom touches tingle across her skin, unbidden and drawn from moments she refuses to admit play on her mind more than they should; the lingering feel of their hands touching around the stem of a single hyacinth... his arm around her waist, and the feel of his jaw beneath her fingertips as the world fades to nothing but those icy green eyes.

She jolts back to the moment, her skin once tanned from the sun now suddenly tinged an unhidable crimson. She buries her face in her hands, her words dripping with embarrassment. "Oh god, I can just hear Mason and Felix laughing at me already."

From behind her hands she chuckles, her embarrassment quickly fading as a thought hits her. "Wait actually... I think I do know my favourite memory."

She drops her hands and sits back upright, the heat remaining beneath her cheeks even as she smiles. "I cherish a lot of my time with Unit Bravo, be it Mason joining in my banter or having paper plane races with Felix... But there was this one day in the library... We were researching, or well supposed to be in Felix's case, and we were just... talking. Just the three of us joking around about search histories of all things..." She laughs softly, her eyes sparkling with affection. "It just really felt like I belonged there. Like I was a part of their family."

She waves dismissively when she continues in a light-hearted manner, brushing off the moment of sincerity to retreat slightly back to the comfort of playfulness. "Yeah, after that they totally ditched me to escape the horrific boredom of research but... I mean come on have you seen the library!? They can run all they want, but I certainly wasn't complaining about staying. I'd live there if Nate would let me move in!" She laughs at the idea of proposing the idea to Nate, the brightness of her smile radiating pure joy.

"Yeah, I think that's my favourite memory so far." She gently looks off to the side, a much deeper warmth filling her eyes as additional memories of reading side by side and the brush of fingers across her jawline tingle beneath the heat of her skin. "Definitely my favourite."

[gingerwritess]

Hello, I hope you have a nice evening, morning, afternoon or whenever you read it and in whole just a good day🌸 Secondly I'd like to ask: how would Loki react, if Elliot doesn't think girls are 'bleegh' anymore? Would Loki give Elliot advice on how he courted the reader? I'm sorry if you don't take these requests and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable in any way. Stay healthy and happy🌸

thankyouforrequestingthissokindlywtfthatmademesohappy

also i know i didn’t get to the actual “advice” but this was getting really long so that part will be a separate drabble h e h

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, dad?”

Loki nods, biting the tip of his tongue as he carefully measures a teaspoon of olive oil. “Hm?”

“You busy right now?”

“A bit,” he murmurs, focusing on not spilling—the tiny little measuring spoons you got years ago are much to small for his fingers.

Elliot quickly nods. “Gotcha. I’ll, um, come back later.”

“No, no, I can multitask, what can I do for you?”

“It’s all good,” Elliot assures him, backing out of the kitchen. “It’s stupid anyways, I’ll just ask mom or look it up or something.”

“Elliot,” Loki laughs, setting down the olive oil and grabbing a wooden spoon, pointing it at his son, then at the fridge. “Talk to me. And get me a stick of butter, I could use the help.”

A little smile lights the kid’s face and he rushes to the fridge, grabbing the butter and tossing it to Loki. “You know I can’t cook,” he reminds him, leaning against the counter as Loki mixes. “So I don’t think I can be of much help, but I’ll try.”

“You didn’t get that from me,” Loki chuckles. “Blame your mother. What did you need?”

“That’s kinda what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Your mother?” Loki glances at the time—good, you’re not supposed to be home for another hour. “Are you wondering how she ended up with someone like me?”

“Not really, I think I get that part,” Elliot replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of. I don’t know. Um, I just was wondering if you, um…”

“…yes?”

“If-if you could maybe, I don’t know, give me some advice?”

The wooden spoon falls to the counter with a clatter.

Oh, no big deal, Loki’s son just came to him seeking advice, trusting him to lead him in the right direction with his knowledge and guidance, trusting him not to steer him wrong, that’s all.

Easily one of the best moments in Loki’s thousands of years of life.

“O-of course, I’d be happy to help,” he stutters, quickly trying to cover his surprise. “Advice with what?”

A relieved grin breaking over his lips, Elliot shuffles a little closer to his dad at the stove. “There’s, uh, this girl.”

Loki all but chokes, dropping the spoon in his risotto and whirling around to his son.

“There’s a WHAT??”

“A girl,” Elliot laughs sheepishly, picking up the fallen spoon and handing it back to Loki. “C’mon, dad, don’t make this weird.”

“Okay, right, sure.” Loki nods, trying to control his grin. “What advice do you need?”

“Well, I, um, don’t know if she likes me back.”

“You are in love with someone who doesn’t like you?”

“No!” Elliot backtracks, eyes wide. “No, no, no, I didn’t say I’m in love with her, yikes, no—”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“I can’t be in love, dad, that’s…not possible. I just like her.”

“Not possible,” Loki repeats slowly, going back to his cooking. “You know, your mother tried to kill me when we first met. I didn’t think loving her would be possible either, but here we are.”

“So you’re saying if Morgan tries to kill me, she might love me?” Elliot snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, thanks, dad. I think you and mom were just a little weird. Special case.”

No answer.

Loki’s frozen at the stove, knuckles turning white around the handle of his spoon—he must have misheard the name.

Not Morgan…Stark, right?

“N-no,” he tries to bring himself back, give the best advice he can—giving advice? Yeah, this is a first for Loki. “I only mean to say…love, if you, erm, believe in that sort of thing, it’s—it’s different for everyone, a-and you never know where you might find it—”

“But I know where I found it,” Elliot cuts in, confusion etching itself into his brow as Loki rambles. “I just don’t know what to do with it. What’d you do when you figured out you loved mom?”

Loki swallows thickly. Gods, he wishes you were home for this conversation. The puberty talk was fun enough on his own, but now this?

A little part of him wonders if it’s healthy to be scared to talk to your children, yet here he is, heart pounding and palms starting to sweat as Elliot waits for him to answer.

Elliot repeats the question, a little quieter, gentler this time.

Oh, gods.

“Y-you should ask your mother,” he quietly offers, keeping his gaze trained on his cooking. “She’s better at this, all these, ah…” he breathes a quiet laugh. “Emotions.”

His dish isn’t turning out well, honestly, the rice is a bit burned and the sauce seems to be about to break on him. Wonderful.

It was supposed to be a surprise for you, since you’d been gone most of the day after weeks of little sleep, a surplus of work, and Frigg deciding she “doesn’t need third grade” after all.

For the record, he’s a supporter of the little movement.

“Okay.” Elliot nods, glancing at the mess on the counter. “Do you want some time alone? You don’t look too good, I don’t want to be a bother…”

“No,” Loki snaps and his fist hits the countertop, sending measuring cups flying as he stares at his failed meal.

Elliot flinches and takes a step back.

“Mom’ll be home any minute,” he reminds him, palms up in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry if I said something, dad, really—”

“Please don’t leave.” Loki’s voice cracks and Elliot gulps.

“Okay.”

A moment passes, Loki hunched over the counter and gripping the edge in a white-knuckled hold, Elliot watching cautiously from the doorway, picking at the palm of one hand.

Laughter breaks the silence, Loki’s, Elliot realises, his dad is laughing now and sounds borderline psychotic.

“What did I do?” Loki turns to him, eyes bloodshot and swimming with unfalling tears. “Yes…what did I do when I realised I loved your mother?”

Elliot just stares, wishing you were here, too.

“You want to know—w-what I did,” Loki laughs behind a wet sniff, “when I realised I loved your mother? I denied it for months, Elliot, and I treated her like a piece of shit.”

A hollow, dull ache fills the boy’s chest and the room goes cold—Loki doesn’t cuss in front of him or Frigg; only on the rarest of occasions when he needs to really, really emphasise a point.

“I acted like I hated her,” he spits out, eyes flashing, “and many times convinced myself that I did, a-and when I finally admitted I-I loved her, she wanted nothing to do with me because I’d ruined every single chance to love her with my arrogance a-and my stupidity—”

“Dad, dad, easy,” Elliot laughs nervously, rushing to Loki’s side and laying a cautious hand on his arm. “It’s alright.”

Loki pauses, taking a deep breath and glaring at the ground, hating himself for snapping so easily in front of his son.

“Is this…something to do with your past?”

Ignorant little boy. Beautiful, ignorant, clueless, perfect little boy.

“The part you won’t tell us about,” Elliot clarifies. “‘Cause I didn’t mean to trigger anything, dad, I’m sorry, I really didn’t.”

“Don’t apologise.” Loki runs a hand over his face, exhaling heavily and trying to rub away the tears left in his eyes. “Gods, don’t ever apologise to me, I don’t deserve that.”

“Okay, but—”

“And you’d never be a bother,” he keeps whispering, an intensity in his voice to match that burning in his eyes when he grabs Elliot by the shoulders and bends down to eye level. “Thank you for coming to me, I-I’m so sorry I did this to you, put you through this—”

“We’re baaack!”

Frigg flounces through the door, slamming it behind her—right in your face, but you just sigh and trudge in after her.

“There she is,” Loki laughs, squeezing Elliot’s arm once more before bending down to swoop his little princess into his arms.

A flicker of light flashes over Loki’s face, a split second of changing energy, too quick for your tired eyes to catch or for Frigg to notice in the midst of her hug—Elliot sees it.

He glances up at his father, seeing a smiling, fresh face, full of light and nothing like the broken man he’d just encountered.

Elliot’s learning that his dad is a really good liar.

“Get expelled yet?” Loki plants a kiss on Frigg’s cheek, smiling all the while.

“Not yet,” she giggles, hugging him tight around the neck. “M’gonna need some help for that.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

“Loki,” you yawn, waving a hand at the three of them. “Don’t encourage this, she’s already gaining supporters on the playground.”

“Are you really?” Loki sets her down, grabbing her hand and guiding her in a quick twirl. “You’ll be a fearsome queen one day, Frigg. I can already see you on your throne, leading your people to prosper—”

“How about a shower for her majesty first,” you jump in with a pointed look to your husband, “and ruling kingdoms later??”

“I would listen to the current queen, if I were you.” Loki raises an eyebrow at his daughter. “Obey and you might just survive her rule.”

Frigg immediately straightens up, flinging a stiff salute at you and bolting off down the hallway to her room.

“Good lord,” you groan, sinking into a chair at the table. “She’s…she’s…your child.”

You wave a hand at Loki.

“Goddess of mischief,” he laughs, and Elliot glances at him—there’s no use hiding it anymore, right? Frigg’s gone, you’re here…

Nope. Loki walks to your side, tilts your head up to plant a kiss to your lips, brushing his thumb over your cheek as you hum happily and lean against him.

“Well, I attempted a risotto.” Loki sighs and gestures at the mess across the kitchen. “I had hoped to surprise you, but…no such luck.”

“Aw, thank you,” you mumble, reaching for him again and pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. “S’sweet of you, I bet it’s really good.”

“It’s…not.”

Elliot wants to laugh, awkwardly watching the two of you, but it’s more painful than heartwarming or humorous to watch his dad act this time, knowing what he’s really hiding.

“Want me to order takeout again?” Plastering a smile on his face, Elliot walks over and gives you a quick hug.

“That…might be best,” you reply, hugging your son back and giving Loki a sheepish grin over his shoulder. “Unless you wanna eat it anyways, Loki?”

“No.” Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow, it’ll be better, I promise.”

Elliot desperately wants to say something, warn you about what happened and suggest maybe you eat the attempted meal anyways, but Loki just smiles and laughs and ruffles a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, Elliot.”

His smile seems sad behind the facade, and he squeezes Elliot’s arm as he walks by—almost like he wants to say something more.

But he doesn’t, he takes your hand in his and follows you as you lead him out of the kitchen, apparently unbothered by what just happened.

…leaving Elliot standing in the middle of the kitchen, extremely confused.

* * * *

After a lovely dinner with thankfully only one wonton thrown across the table—you’d expected Frigg to start it, but nope, thanks, Loki, very mature—you noticed Loki’s a bit…off.

Not terribly off, no, just acting a little bit strange.

A little distant, distracted, and he doesn’t even laugh when you tell him about the “mimicking the principals voice and telling her teacher he’s fired” phone call that Frigg had managed to pull off today.

His mind is clearly elsewhere as you kiss your kids goodnight and send them off to bed, clearly elsewhere when you drag him out of his little library-office to go get ready for bed, only for him to flop onto the mattress and curl in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Climbing onto the bed and poking his turned back, you peek over his shoulder. “Seriously, Loki, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He pulls a pillow over his head.

Very. Very. Mature.

“You’re a bad liar,” you sing, yanking the pillow off his head and pressing a loud smooch to his cheek before he can protest. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can see right through you, trickster.”

“You’re just nosy,” he grumbles, but sits up and crosses his arms. “I only ruined every good idea my son may have had of me, that’s all, will you leave me alone now?”

You blink a couple times in shock, flabbergasted and more than confused.

“What are you talking about?? Elliot loves you, he thinks you’re incredible!” You scramble over the bed to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight to your chest. “You’re his biggest role model, his hero, my hero, and we love you. And like hell I’m gonna leave you alone, nice try.”

“He came to me asking for my advice.”

“Loki, that’s amazing,” you murmur, stroking a hand through his hair. “I can only imagine how much that must mean to you, that’s wonderful, snowflake—”

“Know what I did?”

Voice gone sour, he pushes out of your hug and looks you intently in the eye.

“Yelled,” he hoarsely tells you. “I yelled and I punched the counter and I told him that I hated you, and-and I cried, I broke down and wept in front of my son like a fool, a-and—”

A sob cracks through the room.

“Fuck.” He drops his head to his hands, shoulders shaking. “Damn it, I can’t stop fucking crying.”

Heart pounding, you hurry to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his spine.

“Hey, Loki, honey…where’s all this coming from?”

“Like hell I know,” he spits, hiding his face in his hands, hunched over with elbows on his knees as you try to comfort him. “I had a chance. I had a fucking chance with him and I threw it away, made his ‘advice’ all about my own sick problems like the selfish, fucking idiot I am.”

“Loki! You’re not selfish, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yes, I am, my son came to me admitting to possibly being in love with someone and by the end of the conversation, my son was comforting me, being gentle with me, reassuring me in my relationship—”

“Wait, wait, Elliot’s in love with someone?”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut—the more he thinks about it, he’d nearly forgotten the initial topic of Elliot’s asking for advice.

“That’s what he told me,” he answers quietly, staring at his hands. “Someone named Morgan. We didn’t even get to talk much about it before I ruined the moment, as you know I do so well.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take his hands in yours—finally, Elliot.

“Well, that’s wonderful,” you laugh, rubbing his back and tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. “But know what’s even better?”

The glare Loki shoots you could only be described as royal.

“He told you.” Your fingers curl around his jaw and you pull him closer. “Your son still told you that, he came to you and wanted to share that with you, he wanted your advice, Loki.”

“Yes, and I ruined it and pushed him away like I always do, I just told him to go talk to you.”

“He didn’t.” Resting your forehead against his, you stroke a thumb along his jaw, smiling softly at him. “He never said anything about this to me, snowflake, he wants you to help him.”

“Oh.”

Loki falls silent, head slowly leaning into your touch.

Whenever you hold him like this, arm around his shoulders and now hugging his head in the crook of your neck, running languid fingers through his hair, Loki swears he can count the days of his life.

This seems so…mortal. This whole failure thing.

Humans are so good at failing—it’s the one thing he’s noticed since he first started watching Midgard.

You’re good at failing. It doesn’t scare you, it seems; you rush head-on into uncharted territory and look for things to try, just so you can fail and try again.

You actually like his failures, calling them opportunities and learning experiences and helping him back up, forgiving him time and time again like the clueless idiot you must be to love him—

More failure, his mind spins, just another person to disappoint.

He’s known that since the first moment he held Elliot’s tiny form in his hands.

Your fingers curl and brush through his hair, heartbeat steady under his head.

“…what do I do?”

You press your lips to his forehead, brushing some strands of hair behind his ear. “You could start by going a little easier on yourself. Have some faith that you’re not completely unlovable.”

He gives a dry laugh. “Not completely?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you giggle, hoping your smile can help get him back on his feet. “There’s just something about you I can’t help but love.”

Half a lopsided smile tugs at his lips.

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” You hop to your feet to stand in front of him, grabbing his face between your hands and gazing seriously into his eyes. “Know what else?”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure Elliot’s room is just a hallway away. And I’m pretty sure he’s still awake, wondering how the hell to successfully court a certain fair maiden.”

“Oh, gods, no.” Loki stands up, furiously shaking his head. “What am I supposed to tell him? Well,” he sarcastically starts, “you could always burn down her office building, asking her to kill you seemed to work well for me—”

“No, no, no,” you laugh, jumping up after him and pulling him into another hug. “Just talk to him about…doing nice things for her, things he wouldn’t normally do. Just get him to talk about his feelings about her, and report everything back to me, I’ve been waiting years for these two to get together.”

Loki frowns. “You know this girl?”

“You do, too, snowflake.” A giddy grin spreads across your face. “Morgan?”

“Wait, no.” His eyes wide, he takes a step away from you. “No, no, no, not Morgan Stark, tell me it’s not her.”

Biting back a laugh, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you know any other Morgans?”

“My son is in love with Tony Stark’s daughter.”

“Get used to it.”

“Do you have any idea what hell this is going to unleash?? Stark is going to wring my neck, and gods forbid Elliot ever upset her—if he even allows it—or it’s my own back taking the lashings—”

“Just go,” you laugh, pushing him towards the door. “Teach him how to be just as romantic as you are and just as adorable and absolutely, completely irresistible.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney

[writeyouin]

ITS QUANTUM ANON BACK FOR MORE....I'd love to see a scenario in which Jack and the reader have a scary movie night and the reader can barely handle it, the damn movies are incredibly scary and she gets clingy when she's scared. Jack is very amused. (sounds cliché but it's me when I watch scary movies ok) Scared cuddles and dog videos of calming ensue. (also if you could please put in a tag somewhere or a little quick post saying you got this n tumblr didn't eat it that would be appreciated

Jack Joyce X Reader – Hold Me

A/N – I will never in my life apologise for making Will a meme-loving fuck. I have a big sister, so I know exactly how to be a younger pain in the ass.

Warnings – None

Rating – T

Life as you knew it had been completely changed since the incident between the Joyce brothers and Paul Serene. Although Monarch Solutions wasn’t as big of a threat as it had been before, Jack and Will still worried about what remained of it. You knew they were also concerned about the threat it posed to Will’s research, and more importantly, to you because of your affiliation with the brothers; maybe if you and Jack weren’t romantically involved, there wouldn’t be a problem, but that wasn’t the case.

Since the brothers needed to protect what remained of Will’s research, in case Monarch got any shifty ideas again, the pair moved into the old community pool building. It wasn’t long after that that Jack asked you to move in with them. Although you would have rather continued your regular life in your previous apartment, you knew it would tear Jack apart to have to watch over Will’s research and you; to spare him any worry, you agreed to stay with the pair.

To be fair, life wasn’t so bad in the dilapidated pool building. Will and Jack respected your boundaries, and even turned one of the old changing rooms into your own personal bedroom; it didn’t go unnoticed by you how much prettier your room was than their shared one which had previously housed Beth Wilder. Every little thing the pair did for you made you love them all the more, Jack romantically, and Will as a little brother.

Despite their efforts however, it was still hard for you to think of the old building as a home instead of a hide-out. You knew you were bad at hiding your emotions, but you hoped that neither of the pair would notice quite how much you missed living a normal life. Jack of course, noticed everything where you were concerned, and that brought you to your current predicament. With Halloween coming up, Jack thought he could bring the holiday to you, since he didn’t dare take you to it; with so many costumes and chaos, it would be all too easy for Monarch to pull some kind of dirty trick he couldn’t protect you from. As such, he’d just offered you a date night, filled with all kinds of the grotesque horror films he loved so much.

He was being sweet. You knew he was, and yet you wished he would stop it and return to being his usual sardonic self; whenever he was overly sweet, you knew it was because he was worried about you and didn’t want you to catch on.

“What do you say?” Jack asked, drawing you out of your reverie.

He looked so apologetically awkward that you had to smile. How could he so suddenly switch from the slick smart-talker you knew so well to someone as insecure as Will? When Jack was being this sincere, you knew you didn’t have the heart to say no to him. Yet, you also wanted him to think you were braver than you felt, which would never happen if he saw how you were during horror films. In all the years of your friendship, you had always managed to avoid the film genre Jack loved so much, claiming horror films were far too overrated, when really you were just too scared to watch them.

Now, in the relationship you had craved for so long, Jack appeared almost bashful in offering to share this piece of himself with you.

“You know what,” Jack said at your lack of a response, “You’re probably right. Horrors are overrated anyway. We don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” You blurted, sparing Jack any hurt feelings.

His face lit up brighter than any Jack-o-lantern ever could, evidently proud at having cheered you up. “Yeah? I’ll get the movies and meet you at the projector. It’ll be just you, me, and good ol’ Charles ‘Chucky’ Monroe.”

“Great,” You grinned, then once Jack was out of earshot, “Just perfect.”

You sat rigidly on one end of the two-seater sofa while Jack set up an old film projector so it would play the movies on the entire wall the two of you faced, like a cinema would.

“So, which do you want to start with?” He asked distractedly.

“There’s just so much choice,” You answered mechanically.

“I know, isn’t it great? How about the Grudge, or maybe Saw? I bet you can find a few things in Saw that Will would probably invent himself, if he could. God knows he hates people enough to want to torture them.”

Neither choice really appealed to you, but you didn’t want to spend the next month imagining Will as a murderous sociopath, so you opted for the Grudge, whatever that was.

Not even twenty minutes into the film and you were already terrified by the evil ghost creature that haunted the screen, or in your case the wall. Every so often you would subconsciously reach out for Jack, then snap your hand back, afraid that if you let him hold you, he would feel how badly you were trembling.

You froze at the sound of heavy footsteps, though you quickly realised they were not coming from the speakers in front of you; it had to be Will, returning from the town. He came up the stairs where you and Jack were, lugging a heavy bag of shopping onto the counter behind you.

“What’s going on here?” Will asked, dropping the bag with a thud.

“Horror night,” Jack answered curtly, annoyed by Will’s sudden arrival.

“Huh, cool. The Grudge? Good choice. Not as good as Saw though,” He said a little too wistfully. “Okay, I’m in, scooch over.”

Will forced himself between you and Jack, further cramping the two-seater.

“WILL!” Jack shouted. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“You’re right,” Will nodded, missing the point that he wasn’t invited. “(Y/N), do you mind? There’s a chair over there small enough for you.”

“HEY! No way. (Y/N) stay, he’s gonna leave now.”

“(Y/N) stay?” Will repeated disgustedly. “(S)he’s not a dog Jack, and why do I have to go anyway? You’re the one that forgot to invite me.”

“I didn’t forget. This is a date you idiot! Get out!”

“IDIOT? At least I’m not an ingrate. You could have told me beforehand.”

“READ THE ROOM!”

“YOU KNOW I CAN’T VIBE CHECK. Then again neither can you, because you didn’t even pick a romantic horror.”

Jack threw up his arms exasperatedly, “What does that even mean?”

“Films like this are all scare. In a horror like The Boy however, there is a romantic subplot. In this essay I will-”

Jack grabbed Will in a headlock, pulling him up and dragging him to the staircase. Will flailed uselessly, trying to hit Jack’s arms. Finally, Jack pushed him away, nearly tripping him down the stairs, “Out, Will!”

Will grumbled as he stomped down the stairs, “I just came out to have a good time, and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

On his way back to you, Jack shook his head disbelievingly, “Sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s alright,” You laughed, glad that the commotion allowed you to miss around ten minutes of the on-screen horror.

“Hey, this is your first time seeing the Grudge, right?”

You nodded.

“Don’t worry then, I’ll go back so you don’t miss anything.”

Dying inside a little bit, you gave Jack a quick thumbs up. As promised, Jack rewound the film, picking up where you’d left off before Will had come back. Although you longed to isolate yourself on one side of the sofa again, Jack held up his arm for you to sit under. You smiled meekly, laying against him, somewhat comforted when his arm wrapped over your side.

You thought the film had been scary before, yet with each passing minute further horrors were introduced, each worse than the last. Jack was glad you couldn’t see his face as he held back gales of laughter at your fear of the film. More often than not, he would look down to find you squeezing your eyes shut, and gripping tightly to his thigh, barely holding back whimpers.

When the film started, he had no idea you were so scared of horrors. The idea you were petrified of a ghost story and too afraid to tell him was hilarious. You had literally survived Monarch’s terror attack by his side, yet somehow the evil work of on-screen fiction was scaring you more than previous real-life encounters.

By the end of the film, you couldn’t even look at the screen anymore. You were clinging onto Jack as if your life depended on it, burying your face against his chest to avoid looking. Finally, it was over, and although you clearly couldn’t handle another film, Jack couldn’t resist poking fun at you.

“A real masterpiece,” He said, stroking your arms. “I mean, did you see the detail when the Grudge tore that woman’s jaw off? Just a quick snap and it was gone.”

You cringed, peeking up at Jack so you didn’t have to reimagine the gore in the madness of your mind.

“And what about the part with the kid in the bathtub? That is some good film making right there. Oh, but listen to me rambling on, what was your favourite part of the film?”

You desperately wanted to continue clinging onto Jack and tell him that the only watchable part of the film was the credits which were slowly rolling onwards. Instead, you mumbled agreement about the torn jaw to shut him up. You reminded yourself how excited he had been to share this with you and managed a weak smile that didn’t reflect what you felt on the inside at all.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Jack grinned, having entirely too much fun. “So, what should we watch next? I’ll even let you choose again.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” You squeaked, your throat going dry.

“You’re right, I could see your excitement there. The clear winner is the Grudge Two.”

You shivered involuntarily. Taking the opportunity to scare you further, Jack leaned forward, blowing lightly against your neck. You screamed, jumping up from the sofa and scratting at your neck frantically. Jack fell about laughing at the sight, having the time of his life.

You couldn’t help tearing up a little bit. You weren’t usually so sensitive, but the film had drained you of any usual resilience. You folded your arms, hugging yourself quietly and as suddenly as he had started, Jack stopped laughing, though he was still smiling when he enveloped you in a strong hug.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” You whispered in a small voice.

“Hey, did it really scare you that badly?”

You nodded shakily, reminding Jack of when he was barely a teenager and he’d just seen his first horror film; at the time, he was so scared that he spent an hour throwing up before bed.

He stroked your arms soothingly, resting his head on top of yours. “Would a night of dog videos help?”

“Can we watch Turner and Hooch?” You mumbled.

Jack kissed the top of your head, “Every Halloween from now on.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, come on, we’ll go get Turner and Hooch.”

“And Will?” You asked, risking a smile.

Jack groaned, “Will, really?”

“He really likes Turner and Hooch.”

Jack rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh, “Fine. Will can come too, but he’s sitting on the floor.”

You giggled, “Okay, sure, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“I mean it,” he grinned mischievously, picking you up bridal style. “He has to stay on the floor, so I can hug my beautiful partner all night long.”

You pecked Jack’s lips, thankful that he was so understanding, “I love you.”

“Happy Halloween (Y/N).”

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