#seriously though i have never related to tony more in my LIFE

[serial-serializednovelreader]

okay for the character ask game I couldn’t decide on characters or numbers, so I just threw some random characters and numbers together, and you can decide which apply the most to what character. Whatever you like!

SQ, Jeffers, Garrison, Nicholas, Kate, and Rhonda

1, 2, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20

What do you like or dislike about this character?

SQ - in the show, I like his introspection and that they fleshed him out to not just be Curtain's adopted son who loves art and is under his control (in both a good and bad way). My only issue is that he's not in season 2, we were robbed!! As for the books, I like that what starts out as comic relief ends up being a horrifying realization that this poor teenager is brainswept so much that he can't remember what he's saying. What I dislike is that we never get to see him grow beyond that. Yes, we see him choose kindness (which is great btw) over Curtain, but I wish we had actually gotten to see him in Riddle of Ages besides a quick mention.

Jeffers - I love that he gets to be goofy. Sure the Ten Men in the books were scary, but they let him just be whacky! And why not? I love characters that get to goof around and be silly, especially if they're not supposed to. Plus, you can tell the actor playing him is having a blast and that's how you know a character is well-done. I just wish he had been in season 1, but I'm glad you put him in S.O.S. so I can enjoy him there, Bods!

Garrison - I like that this character exists, first of all. I know book Curtain is the type to want to keep the science secrets to himself, but show Curtain needs a science person to delegate Whisperer stuff to. After all, when would he have time to do this?

(did I want an excuse to put this GIF in again? Yes, yes I did. It was too funny to resist.)

But seriously, I also love that while she does bend to Curtain, she does try to stand up to him in her own way. There's a complicated dynamic there (made more complicated by reading @nobodysdaydreams S.O.S. AU fanfic, which you should read if you haven't yet because OH BOY does it change things about Garrison for you) and it's so interesting to analyze. Also, she's just a little bit quirky and I love her for that.

Nicholas - in the show, I love that they gave him issues!!!! They made him anxious and the way Tony Hale makes his posture more stooped is *chef's kiss* lovely. His "excuse me - *cut to loud screaming montage*" is TOO RELATABLE. I think they were so right for that. Also, making him more directly responsible for Curtain's downfall was a great choice (though I don't actually blame him because he was a literal child it wasn't his fault; if anything, I blame the adoptive parents for separating twins and just not coming back for the other that's so messed up??? Who does that?????). The only thing I dislike was that they basically cut down his narcoleptic attacks to nearly nothing by the second season, almost like they didn't exist. Like, y'all, come on, don't do that!

As for the books, I love his wisdom, compassion and how he always makes time for the children. He always seems to know what they're thinking and is able to encourage them in their darkest hour. Although, I have a love/hate relationship with how they cured his narcolepsy in TPD because on one hand, I hate the "curing disability narrative", but on the other he actively hated it and wanted it gone (plus he had to suppress his emotions so much because of it) that I can't really blame him for wanting it gone...hard to know how to feel on that one!

Kate - KATE MY BELOVED!!! Again, I love everything about her. For show Kate, I love how fast-paced she is. It always makes me laugh when she says something like, "Tower. Scale it. Now!!!" It's so funny to me. Emmy did an amazing job bringing that aspect to life. Show Kate is also rougher around the edges -- I don't hate it because it's more realistic...it's just sad. :(

As for book Kate, I like that she brute forces her way to solutions. Oh she doesn't understand this maze? Guess she's running through the vents. I always admired her agility (and wished I could be that cool!!). I also like that she had to grapple with the dark urge of violence because it makes sense, she's the muscle of the team, why shouldn't she end the bad guys once and for all? A dark theme, sure, but I'm glad TLS didn't hold back on it.

Rhonda - Show Rhonda is so cool because she's so good at mediating within the group and I love that she also tries to fight in her own way against Curtain outside of their work with the society. We love to see some small acts of activism!!! No notes, amazing character.

For book Rhonda, I love how caring she is. She just always finds a way to show the group in big and small ways that she cares about them. I feel like if anyone is neurotypical in that group, it's her, and for once I mean that in a good way (let's be real, someone probably needs to be to remember things and help with social cues) /j. I wish we got to see more of her!

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Nicholas - in the books, that he learned ASL for Violet in his prequel book! I took 3 ASL classes and while it shouldn't be a big deal for a hearing person to learn sign language for a Deaf person, many times they won't. I love that he automatically accommodated her needs, rather than trying to make her accommodate him. As for the show, the screaming scene comes to mind, but I like that he reads aloud to his friends, I think it's sweet :)

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Garrison - Giants by Imagine Dragons

Soooo again I had to manually pick this song since I don't really think of MBS characters + music together (which is weird of my brain to do, but whatever!). The reason I picked this song is because it's about addiction and someone reflecting on what they've become because of it. I think it especially applies to your S.O.S headcanon of Garrison and how she is in season 2. Wish I had a happier answer. :(

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Jeffers - that y'all gaslit me into thinking his name was Jeepers (s/o to @mvshortcut for reassuring me I was right) and that we have Secure the Perimeter Saturday. I think it's beautiful. 😍 ❤️

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Rhonda - I haven't seen anything I truly despise, but it definitely irks me when she gets forgotten (or whitewashed, I was worried the show was going to do that). She's such an interesting character and deserves to be included as much as possible!!!!!! Again, it's nothing I've actually seen, but if I had to pick.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Rhonda - yes, I think so! She'd get the worst end of the bargain dealing with my eccentricities, but I honestly think we could make it work. I'd do my best to try to make things easier for her living with me lol.

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

Kate - 🪣 ...sorry, I had to!

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Kate x Reynie - Sorry not sorry, I've always been a Kaynie girlie!!!! I enjoy that TMBS didn't dive into romance at all because it's good to get a break from that. Unfortunately, I'm a hopeless romantic and, at least in the books, I saw potential for something to grow when they got older (like when Reynie gets electrocuted by Curtain in TPD and Kate holds his hand while crying...that scene BROKE ME 😭 😭 😭 ).

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

Garrison x Curtain - idk if anyone actually ships this (I haven't seen it, I'm just adding it to the mix for consideration), but the thought of this makes me want to barf. Just....nah.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Nicholas - I've always admired his relationship with Milligan. If you're able to gain the loyalty and friendship of someone who's lost all of their memories, you're doing something right. :) I know Nicholas is always going to feel responsible for Curtain's misdeeds, and by extension, Milligan's memory loss (in both the books and show since Curtain is his brother and Nicholas is too much of an empath to not feel some kind of guilt), but I truly admire how he treats Milligan as someone to be taken seriously and who he wants to help.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Jeffers - I don't know if this crossover is allowed, but can you imagine if Moocho Brazos and Jeffers became friends outside of Curtain's influence? I don't know, I just feel like they would be besties and potentially great together in a fight. Moocho would totally break out some cool helicopter fighting moves and Jeffers would do...something?

I hope you enjoy these answers. This was super fun, Bods!!

[a30somethingslookatpopculture]

Top 10 "13 Reasons Why" Characters

I am focusing mainly on the main cast and characters that I feel made a big enough impact on the show as a whole. Where I rank them isn’t solely based on how much I like them. Some instances will also be based on how well I feel the actor portrays them. However controversial that might be at times.

1. Tony Padilla

Tony just oozes cool, to me. I loved him from the moment I saw him. His car, awesome. His leather jacket, also awesome. His hair and style, great. His humor and overall characterization were great to me as well. I think we can all agree, we need a friend like Tony in our lives! I was always rooting for my boy!

2. Justin Foley

This one is a weird one. I spent most of season one thinking Justin was such a jerk. His friends were jerks, his actions that led to his tape also made him a jerk. But, by the time the series ended, I absolutely loved the guy! My heart hurt for him, man. He was done so wrong!

3. Clay Jensen

Clay was an interesting character. I can’t quite place it but, I have love/hate feelings towards him. Especially as the series progresses. Yes, dude went through some seriously terrible stuff in his young life. But he turned into a bit of a douche. I was glad to see him seemingly riding off into a happier life, though. Sadly, his demons will always be with him.

4. Hannah Baker

Hannah’s story was just sad altogether. But we all know that already. In terms of character, I liked her. I could relate in some ways. Being a former victim of immense bullying, I totally understood her thought process. Though I didn’t have exactly what happened to her, happen to me, I was certainly a victim of harsh rumors like she was. It takes a huge toll on a young girl’s mind. The tape thing was a little much, though...

Sadly, we didn't get enough time with her for me to truly grow with her, so I put her lower on this list than I wanted to.

5. Bryce Walker

Say what you will about Bryce the character, but the actor did such an amazing job at portraying such a despicable, yet somewhat understandable character. Especially as the series progresses. At times I found myself questioning if I should hate him, or feel bad for him. He was definitely NOT a good guy in any sense of the word. But I give Justin Prentice all the credit on this one! I like a good 'heel".

6. Alex Standall

Alex is awkward and quiet. And he definitely struggled a lot in the show. 13 Reasons Why never shied away from dark themes and Alex was just one of many that got hurt a lot. My really felt for him. Especially early on.

7. Jessica Davis

I have never really been able to decide what exactly it is that I feel about Jessica. I liked her, but also found her to be a bit too uptight and bratty at times. In season one especially. But, that's the point. She was the spoiled daddy’s girl type. I began to sympathize with her more as the show progressed, though.

8. Zach Dempsey

I didn’t think much one way or another about Zach. For much of the show he was the jock stereotype. I liked seeing his more sensitive sides, though. And I especially love the slight bromance he and Clay would later have.

9. Tyler Down

We’ve all known someone like Tyler. Someone really on the outside of every group in high school. Someone you’d see off on their own, and usually the target of many of the jock’s attacks. Seeing how this would impact Tyler throughout the show just broke my heart into a million pieces. I particularly loved how the actor portrayed him in the later seasons. He got really real, and really raw. His talent showed in his performance.

10. Ani Achola

I just don’t have a clue what I think of Ani. I didn’t feel she was needed really. I mean, I guess they needed someone to come in and humanize Bryce a bit and give Clay a new love interest. But her and Clay just didn[‘t do it for me. They had some cute moments together. And I have nothing against the character per se. I just couldn’t connect with her as much.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Prom Night

Word count: 906

Read on AO3

Part 6 of The Unknown Stark

When Tony was told that you had a date- a senior- to prom, he’d shot you a look. You hadn’t mentioned it to him, even in passing. That led you to that moment. Not being surrounded by your normal family. No, you were surrounded by the damn Avengers. They were all in their uniforms, costumes, whatever you wanted to call them. When they’d walked out to where you were sitting in the living room, you’d groaned and put your face in your hands.

Tony smirked. “What? You wanted us to meet your date.” He teased.

You looked up at him. “Yeah, my dad! And my aunt and uncles. Not the Avengers!” You were almost whining at this point.

“Well, you are related to the Avengers.” He pointed out, earning a glare. “So, when’s Tim getting here?” Tony asked.

“Tyson. His name is Tyson.” You sighed. “And any time now. I hope you know, when you’re old, and need your diapers changed, you can make a damn robot for that.” You gave him a mock glare.

He had to chuckle at that. “Old? I’ll never get old.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Fine. You’ll rust.”

JARVIS’s voice broke up your banter. “Sir, there is a Mr Tyson here for Miss Stark.” He informed everyone. “Shall I send him in?”

Tony was grinning at you. “Of course.” You let out a small groan, wanting to hide.

No one said anything before the elevator dinged and out stepped your date. Nat had moved to sit by you and nudged you with her shoulder. “Seriously?” She gave you an amused look. “You couldn’t have one of his less attractive friends play him? Your father is going to scare the piss out of that poor boy.” She teased you.

“Save me.” You stuck out your bottom lip, making her laugh.

Tyson looked around, swallowing. Getting up, you moved to his side and took his hand. “So. I’m meeting the Avengers?” He looked at you nervously.

“Sorry.” You told him.

Tony moved forward, making Tyson’s eyes shift to him. “So, you’re the punk taking my daughter to prom.” He said seriously.  

He nodded. “Yes, sir.” He answered.

Thor moved to stand near Tony, and he was much more intimidating than your father when it came to sheer size. “You will treat her with respect, correct?” Though it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t. Just by the tone he used.

“Uncle Thor, please. Be nice.” Your eyes were pleading with him.

“He’s a teenage boy. Of course we have to go through this.” Clint shrugged, at least looking a bit more laid back about this as he ate an apple.

“You’re going to be at the damn prom! Why do this?” You paled. “Oh, God. You’re not wearing that, are you?” You asked quietly. All you got back in return was a chuckle and a grin. “Great.” You sighed. “Can we go now?”

“Pictures!” Tony reminded everyone. While you’d convinced him no professionals, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make this hell. It was his duty as a father, as he had told you.

Holding your cup, you were standing with a group of your friends and their dates. Tyson had his arm around your waist, and yours was around his. Nat was moving around, her eyes wandering, but she’d only you spotted you on the dance floor. Thor was towards the refreshments, surrounded by a few female teachers, and even a couple males. Clint was up above, giving him the chance to see a lot more than the others.

Tony had tried to get the school to allow him to chaperone, but apparently, the principle laughed so hard that she cried. When she explained that because of his reputation, that she felt it was best he sit this out. That some parents might be concerned, as they only knew what they saw on tv. That, he understood, and backed off.

That didn’t mean he didn’t know what was going on. He was more worried about your safety as opposed to Tyson, but he didn’t want to make you afraid to live your life. Clint’s eyes followed you as Tyson led you away from your friends, each of you putting down your cups on a table in passing. For a moment it looked like you were just about to start dancing again, but you made your way out of the large room. “Bruce, our girl’s in the halls.” Clint let his teammate know.

You were walking slowly, just talking when you heard a commotion behind you- from the hotel ballroom that you’d just come from. There was screaming, and some yelling. “It’ll be fine. The guys are with them.” You breathed, more trying to convince yourself.

When the doors burst open, you turned and started to run, which wasn’t easy in heels. You were cut off by another man in a mask, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you tried to look to Tyson, just to see him knocked out on the floor.

Looking to the man slowly approaching, your eyes watered, squirming despite the fact that you knew it was pointless. “So, you’re Stark’s bastard child?” He sounded amused. “I’ll tell him goodnight for you.” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice before you felt a cloth on your face. The last thing you remembered was him laughing.

[naoa-ao3]

Just a Man

Rogue was on a mission. That was why she was in New Orleans. She didn't like it though. Not that she had anything against the city it was just that on every corner she stopped she could feel Remy. He was there in the crowd, up on a balcony, sitting in a restaurant. He was everywhere. Everywhere in a city that had been so much a part of him. Of course she had no real idea if he was there. He could be half way around the world for all she knew.

She remembered all of the times the X-Men had visited New Orleans. So many times they had gotten caught up in his guild business. And there it was. The reason they weren't together. His life was one one problem after another and so many of them he brought on himself. She sat down at a cafe to eat. It was hot and all of the indoor tables were taken. She had to eat on the street. She stirred her drink slowly, feeling the weight of so many memories and so much love. There where ghosts all around and then one materialized in front of her. A blond woman, beautiful and tall. She emerged from the crowed and came and took a seat across from Rogue.

Belladonna Bourdreaux.

"It's been a long time." She said. She had the same accent as Remy. She came from the same world. Rogue had once felt threatened by this woman. Now they were on equal ground.

"You here to fight?" Rogue asked coolly.

Belladonna shook her head. She looked a little older than the last time they had seen each other. Maybe life had caught up to her. "What do we have to fight about?" She asked. "Neither of us have him and you ain't here to mess with de Guilds." She ordered lunch.

"What're you here for then?"

Belladonna shrugged. "I heard you and Remy broke up a while back. Never did know why."

Rogue felt a little offended. "And what makes you think you got any right to know?"

Belladonna gave her a coldly sympathetic look. A look that said: Because I've been there already. "He flirt too much or did he kill your brother too? Leave you when you needed him?"

Rogue frowned. "I left him. He didn't do much of anything." This wasn't entirely true but it wasn't why she'd left him. Going back to Sinister. . . the deal with Apocalypse. She hadn't ended it because of that although they hadn't won him any favors.

Belladonna looked surprised. "I loved him for a real long time." She said. "But he ain't good. Not for himself or anyone else." Rogue was quiet. "He doesn't mean to be. I know he doesn't. He's not a bad person. . . he's just careless and he makes bad choices. One after another and he thinks they're his alone to make but they effect other people and then when someone gets hurt he sits there wondering how the hell it happened."

Rogue was quiet. It was true. Remy always made decisions with the best of intentions. Sinister, Apocalypse, Sinister again but they always ended badly and she was right even more because people did get hurt. Innocent people. The morlocks, Belladonna, Rogue herself. People fell in love with him and that never ended well. She had even heard that Wolverine had kicked him out of the X-Men.

She was sure Remy deserved it. She had heard he had tried to rob Tony Stark. He knew mutant human relations were constantly at risk and he knew that he was a high profile mutant. He never cared about that. She thought he had always been uncaring about how mutants were perceived. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe he did care but he sure never acted like it.

Belladonna watched her face. "You ain't happy knowin' I'm right." She said.

Rogue looked down at her plate. "You come here so we could shit talk him?"

She shrugged. "I just was wonderin' why you two split. I thought maybe he'd found something better with you." She looked at Rogue seriously. "I hated you. You know that? I hated you from the bottom of my heart. Even while I was hating him."

"I know you did."

There was a bitter laugh. "We had a time though, didn't we? You X-Men. . . my Assassins. I'm sorry you got dragged into it."

Rogue was surprised. "You don' hate me any more?"

"Part of me always will. Just like part of me will always love him. You think you'll ever fall in love again?"

Rogue was thrown by the question. She thought maybe Belladonna had been searching for someone to talk to. "I don't know."

"I gave up love. I'm the leader of the Assassins Guild. That is my marriage." She laughed a short dark laugh. "My second love." She looked down for a moment. "But loving him was something, wasn't it?" Her voice turned sentimental.

Rogue thought about all of the times she had known in her heart that she loved Remy and she understood. "Yeah." It hurt to think about.

"You still love him, don't you?"

She didn't respond. She didn't have to and she knew it.

Belladonna smiled. "Lovin' him was like having the whole world in your heart. Like every day was golden and perfect and even if it wasn't. . . he was. And the sex. . . ain't nothin like it in the world." A shiver went down Rogue's back at the mention just as her heart hurt at the mention of love. "Gettin a man who's good at sex. . . well a man you don't have to teach to be good at it. . . that doesn't happen too often." She paused. "My God, he almost seems perfect. Doesn't he? Just until you been around him for long enough. Then you start to see that it's not all sunshine and charm. Start to see he's just a man. Not the worst. . . they never are but him. . . he makes you think he's more and then you find out he isn't. You find out he's just a man and it breaks your heart and it's almost more than you can take. He didn't have to fight my brother. . . that was two boys butting heads and it ended the way it ended. My brother was a fool and Remy was a fool for fighting him. For fighting him and expecting a different ending. Then he left me and after that it seemed like he just kept on leavin' me. My heart broke every time 'cause that sweet kid I loved so much was just a man after all. Same faults as any of the others."

"He's done a lot of bad things. I know he didn't mean to do most of them. . ." Rogue said, speaking at last.

"But he did them just the same, didn't he?"

"Yeah and then he goes and tried to find a short cut to redemption and blows it all to hell all over again."

Belladonna nodded. "He's just a boy. You know they always are. Men. They're always boys underneath. They grow up but just the same part of 'em is still the kid they were. Remy had to grow up fast he and I both did. Maybe you did too, I don't know. I reckon so. I reckon we all got short childhoods and none of them were exactly what they should have been. But it doesn't excuse anything."

Rogue nodded again. "I go to sleep and I still love him. Does that make me weak?"

"No child. I don't think so. It makes you human. There are nights I still love him. Nights my heart breaks cause he's not there in bed next to me. Cause he's not touching me. Nights I imagine I can feel his hand on my arm. On my cheek. I think there always will be. I think when you love someone like him you love them so totally that it can't ever leave you."

Rogue felt her heart break some more because she knew just what Belladonna as talking about. Hell, she could touch people now and all she wanted some nights was to touch him.

"Maybe it's selfish of me but I hope some day you two work through your bull shit because I think you two were born to be together. I think you two love each other the way I once thought he and I loved each other."

"After everything you've said?"

"Oh shoot, it's like I said: he's not a bad man. He's just trying to be good and he's not good at it. He needs someone to show him how. It's petulant and pathetic but it's what he needs. He always gets himself into trouble. Sleeps with the wrong woman. . . makes the wrong guy mad. . . trusts the wrong person. He brings it on himself and he deserves it half the time but you never feel like he does. I never do. I tried but I couldn't."

"I don't know if I want to love him again."

Belladonna smiled. "Shoot girl, you gotta quite before you can do it again. And he's not the kind of man you can ever quite. Something about him you just fall in love with and hell, he'll fall in love right back."

Rogue nodded. "Guess so."

"Well. . . I'm not telling you what you gotta do. Just what I hope you'll do. Slap the crap outa him if you have to just love him in the end." She broke into a grin. "You ever heard the song Stand by Your Man? One of the worst country songs ever written but it makes me think of him sometimes. There's one line. . . cause after all, he's just a man. Don't excuse anything but it's true."

Rogue laughed. "I know the song."

They laughed for a moment and it dawned on Rogue that she never in all her dreams thought she'd be sitting at a table laughing with Belladonna Bourdreaux. Least of all that the woman would be telling her to love Remy.

"I was jealous of you." He admitted.

Belladonna looked at her, the laughter dying from her eyes. "And I was of you. I think part of me this minute is glad you were jealous. Glad you felt threatened. But I don't think I mean you any malicious will. We've both loved the same man and we've both lost him. That brings women together. Doesn't make 'em friends. . . don't even make 'em like each other but it brings 'em together. Gives 'em common ground. Hell, it's probably what makes up hate each other."

"You miss him and I miss him and we both still love him. I don't think he has a right makin' us feel like this." Rogue smiled a little at her own words. "He's a bastard."

"He is indeed. Boy can't keep it in his pants and he doesn't know when to stop talking but he's just a man and he's no better or worse than anyone else. Well. . . maybe a little more worse. But it's like we said: he doesn't mean to be and deep down he's not. You see him again, you help him do good. You hear me? Cause he needs to do good he just don't know how."

Rogue nodded. "I won't ask you to do the same but I'll say thanks. Maybe some day Remy and I will work it out. I don't know if I want to but I'll keep an open mind."

The two women looked at each other and felt the closest thing to liking each other they had ever felt. Then Belladonna turned away and was gone and Rogue paied the check, head filled with thoughts about Remy and all of his faults and all of his virtues and everything that made him just a man and everything that made him seem like so much more and she knew. . . just a small part of her knew that she would never stop loving him.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Unstoppable (2010)

No matter how spectacular or unbelievable, real events need a few key qualities to be worthy of a film adaptation. The real-life CSX 8888 incident meets all the criteria. With two charismatic leads, loads of twists and turns that raise the stakes and some good old-fashioned thumbing at the man, Unstoppable packs a lot of entertainment in its 98-minute running time.

At the Fuller Yard in northern Pennsylvania, the engineer (Ethan Suplee) jumps out of his locomotive to change an incorrectly aligned track, accidentally leaving the unattended train with the throttle at full speed. By the time yardmaster Connie Hooper (Rosario Dawson) realizes they have a runaway train filled with explosive materials barreling down the track, the only people who might be able to stop it are veteran railroad engineer Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington) and Will Colson (Chris Pine), a young train conductor.

If there’s one aspect of the film that will make or break it for you, it’s Tony Scott’s trademark, frenetic camerawork. There are constantly helicopters circling the 777 locomotive and the film is often shot from the perspective of a news reporter on one of those helicopters, which means there are a lot of unsteady shots, particularly when things get intense. Although I can’t say I was too fond of this choice, news footage-like camerawork is appropriate for a film based on true events. There are small bits of writing here and there that might also rub you the wrong way (the ultimate fate of the man who left his post, for example) but they’re minor issues when we consider everything the film does well.

Denzel Washington and Chris Pine are great as the heroes. Both of the actors have charisma to spare and play well off of each other. Each is given their own miniature story (with everything that’s going on with the train there’s not much room for too much else) and their own arcs together as a team. It’s just enough for you to care about them and worry about whether they will save the day… even before you realize the magnitude of the disaster that awaits everyone should they fail to stop the train. They seem like imperfect but perfectly relatable guys, the kind you could easily see at your weekend BBQ. The same can’t be said about the higher-ups we see throughout the film. Some might say they’re over-the-top but from my experience in the workforce, they're not so exaggerated. Even before the movie starts you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that AWVR’s vice-president won’t listen to Frank and Will and within the movie, you understand why, which makes him less cartoonish - though no less sympathetic.

We have a decent foundation with the great actors and easily grokable characters but ultimately, this film is about the train and the peril it represents. This is the kind of movie that’s always throwing some new wrench at our protagonists. Once Unstoppable gets going, it just never stops… sort of like the train itself. Thankfully, our heroes are smart and resourceful. Their plans always seem more likely to succeed than the ones the authorities propose. Seriously, some of the tactics they come up with are so ridiculous and obviously flawed that you’d laugh them off the screen… if this was a work of pure fiction.

Unstoppable would be a great movie to sit down and watch with your dad. It’s got plenty of tension, the stakes are high, the antagonists are easy to dislike, you’re eager to cheer for the heroes, and the energy throughout makes its running time fly by like nothing. It’s just an all-around solid piece of entertainment. (On Blu-ray, January 14, 2022)

[thatiranianphantom]

Okay, my thoughts on the new description.

(some under a cut because, you know, it's me and I share many opinions that perhaps I shouldn't)

In the style of @raymondebidochonlifechoices's hilarious recap of RAS' interview, though perhaps a bit less hilarious.

The seventh season of Riverdale goes where no season of Riverdale has dared to go before—the 1950s!

Wonder why we've never been there before. Not because it's fucking stupid, but because it took till now for Ted Sullivan to have this absolute brainchild that will revolutionize the show.

Picking up where last season ended, Jughead Jones (Sprouse) finds himself trapped in the 1950s. He has no idea how he got there, nor how to get back to the present. 

The writers: We watch our own show, what are you talking about? We remembered that plot point, didn't we! Aren't you proud of us? Huh? Aren't you?

His friends are no help, as they are living seemingly authentic lives, similar to their classic Archie Comics counterparts, unaware that they’ve ever been anywhere but the 1950s. 

Oh rats, because typically, they are an absolute bastion of support and assistance.

Archie Andrews (Apa) is the classic all-American teen, coming of age, getting into trouble, and learning life-lessons

S1-25 year old teen - absolutely insufferable Archie is back, and this time, he's even more unaware! Hopefully with less grooming, especially from a show that is convinced it's making a profound social statement.

Betty Cooper (Reinhart) is the girl next door, starting to question everything about her perfect life—including her controlling mother Alice (Madchen Amick)

Somehow, some way, we are still circling the same plot about abusive parents. And you know how this refrain goes, people. Alice is horrendously abusive, she cries, we are supposed to forgive her. Looks like something ripped straight out of s1 but peep the absolutely no implication of anything BA related.

Veronica Lodge (Mendes) is a Hollywood starlet who moved to Riverdale under mysterious circumstances;

California and not New York???!!!! So exotic! Very wow! What an incredible stroke of genius, Roberto! They have not been shy about pumping the Varchie up, have they? It also usually only exists in addition to another ship....

Cheryl Blossom (Madelaine Petsch) is the Queen Bee with a withering wit and a secret longing

I mean, Cheryl's plot has functionally never changed, so I don't know who's shocked at this, except for maybe the writers thinking it's revolutionary to recycle Cheryl's S2 plot instead of her S1 plot. Note that Mads and Vanessa's Instagrams are and have always been a pantheon of spoilers and it does look like they're doing a lot of filming together.

Toni Topaz (Vanessa Morgan) is an activist fighting for the Black students of recently integrated Riverdale High

.....I can see my brain. I can literally see my brain, my eyes are rolling so hard. How do we make an already insufferable (my opinion, stressing that here) character even more insufferable and pretend we are making a profound social statment, something we are absolutely incapable of making? Toni is an activist for integration!

(real talk, I think we'll see very little of this plot, as we'll see very little plot for the secondary characters)

Kevin Keller (Casey Cott) is a “square” crooner wrestling with his sexual identity

Kill me now, my dear followers. And hey, spec here, I feel like Kevin may be dating Betty?

Reggie Mantle (Charles Melton) is a basketball star from farm country

The one thing I hope is true. God, I hope my dear himbo Reggie is back.

 Fangs Fogarty (Drew Ray Tanner) is a greaser who’s destined to be an Elvis-type star

Seriously, what ammunition does Drew have on the writers that he keeps getting brought back? My thought is they're going back to Kangs though, if we're going the OG way.

It isn’t until Jughead is visited by Tabitha Tate (Erinn Westbrook)—Riverdale’s Guardian Angel—that he learns the cosmic truth about their predicament.

Just....one facepalm is not enough. Five hundred facepalms are not enough. Tabitha, a character that is to put it generously not well loved and has been around for two seasons, is the Guardian Angel???

We know that they resolve Jughead remembering by the end of the premiere, per RAS, so I honestly wonder if Tabitha's role in S7 is very light. If Jughead forgets, her role is essentially moot and we have seen very little of her in BTS.

Anyway, my dear fellow sufferers, let's get through this together, one last time before we are finally set free.

[lunar-insanity]

I believe I owe you all a character design :3

I am not good at making up my own armor designs, be it fantasy or sci-fi (which this is supposed to be both), which... also translates to making full on robots (I have re-drawn an iron man style armor so many times), which is a shame cause I LIKE making robots which clearly means I need to just draw freaking more and just study’s Tony’s damn armor more

ANYWAY--

I do want to redraw this and make it better sometime soon-ish, but I am really happy with how she came out!

Imma attach all the concept references I used, as well as the bits of world and character lore our prof asked us to also write up for her, under the cut!

Please enjoy Reyna Zulueta, The Lunar Reaper

World Lore:

 In a world advancing further into sci-fi technology, it and the realm of magic and gods have found a way to co-exist together, mingling magic and hi-tech to surpass boundaries the other has. It’s still an on-going process, but it’s going… as smoothly as one expects.

 And though the various Gods are not particularly active or felt, some having been forgotten due to colonizers, they have not abandoned the world. And they see the potential for disaster far too easily.

 And so, sometimes, they make a claim on a mortal, gift them their powers, and make them their champions and avatars to protect their worlds and peoples from inevitable dangers and catastrophes, both natural and man-made.

 The world, having recognized perhaps the trend, though not the explicit hand of the Gods, decided to create an organization meant to help train and protect these young people in order to better prepare them for their duties.

 Character Lore:

 Reyna is a rare case of having been chosen by two gods. She was conceived and spent half her time in the womb in Visayas, and then spent the latter half and birthed in Luzon.

The Warrior Moon Goddess Mayari of old Tagalog myth, and The Goddess of Death Sidapa from old Bisaya myth, both attempted to make a claim on her, and both found they had a legitimate claim. With both old deities having a background in sharing charge over a world, they decided to share Reyna, and have turned her into the Lunar Reaper.

 Character Personality:

Reyna is a tough and stoic person, her nature coming from the strong influence of a warrior goddess. She’s honest, takes duty seriously, and ambitious, though at the moment her ambition is a bit aimless as she tries to navigate being a Champion and those duties (that she never had a say in), and what she owes herself, the life she wants to build for herself outside of it all.

 As a result, she keeps quiet about things relating to her, while being open about anything but. Any inner turmoil is kept under wraps as she tries to figure out her identity and future.

She has a habit of thinking “If you want something done right, you do it yourself”, and thus sometimes bites off more than she can chew. She will always try to finish what she started though.

   Social Significance / Representation:

I love researching mythology, and especially old Philippine mythology once I found out we once had one. This, I feel, is an important part of our old culture, and I’d love for it to be more well known, in a better capacity.

 And Mayari is my favorite of all Philippine deities.

  Research References:

List of the various Philippine Gods and Goddesses and their different versions.

https://hunterswoodsph.com/philippine-mythology-gods/

This specific version of Sidapa, as a Goddess of Death and co-ruler of Earthrealm alongside Makaptan, the God of Sickness.

https://www.aswangproject.com/ancient-bisaya-pantheon/

https://filipiknow.net/the-ancient-visayan-deities-of-philippine-mythology/

Sidapa in, now his, more well known iteration.

https://thephilippinestoday.com/sidapa/

 Mayari, the Goddess of the Moon (Mayari is the goddess of revolutions, war, hunt, weaponry, beauty, strength, moon and night)

https://filipiknow.net/philippine-mythology-gods-and-goddesses/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mayari

[flowervolcano]

I know I have seemed anti Antonia Dreykov but it’s not like that at all. I just get mad that she wasn’t a well written and fleshed out character and I hope for some new things for her.

Originally I thought ooh he could be Marvel’s first trans character, have Tony transition to male that way “look he’s a male” and I’d really be down for this idea

But if not, idc we could do a female Taskmaster, just let her have spunk, energy, charisma, let her get her own personality anything that isn’t all drama filled. She deserved better than that.

So I want some things for her, which is; figuring herself out, after years of being silenced I want her to be a mouthy little troll like her comic counterpart, she uses the “my father silenced me my whole life now I’m making it your problem” excuse whenever someone on Thunderbolts gets annoyed with her excessive banter/talking. She has so much she missed out on, she could be like a little socially awkward at first but then really just kicks it off. Maybe she picks up skateboarding randomly just because she saw someone do it. I want her to reclaim some humanity and personality. All things she was dismissed from having. Let her thrive and grow into a real person. I’m afraid they will just keep blandly writing her with no soul and she’s only “I was a weapon” like Bucky, Yelena and Ghost weren’t. (Not all of them are as moody but you get the point)

Then I also really want them to utilize her powers more, explain that the chip in her head is actually just because her father is a control freak and was limiting her to a program. That the powers don’t have to be computer functional. Idk taking away a super hero skill like that sucks imo and that was one of my major complaints when it first came out

BRING BACK THE CAPE PLEASE!!!

The main reason I’m upset with the “reveal” was mainly because Taskmaster’s identity never mattered to him, he was a just a dude who loves his skull mask and refuses to take it off so when she took off the mask in the movie it felt jarring (not because she was a woman btw) but because it felt so not like Taskmaster to do so. I didn’t care who was going to play Taskmaster as long as the actor kept the mask on 90% of the time. It’s kinda not fair to such a great actress though, which added to my distraught feeling. It felt like so many good things and potential was wasted. Because no I feel like her identity is more important than her skull mask (rip) but that’s a simplistic argument

Instead it would have been devious if she wasn’t actually Dreykov’s daughter but staging that to get under Black Widow’s skin (I say this because the timeline makes no sense in 2008 Antonia was around the ages of 7-10 which I would be around the same age as her, and she does NOT pass for 16-20 years old, let me remind y’all that BW was set in the year 2016, so if she was let’s say born in 2000 (like me) by the time it’s 2016 she would only be 16. So that is still making the least amount of sense in direction of writing. If honestly would have been better if instead of trying to connect her in that way, sure go with “victim” but not if the timeline makes no sense. Sorry I’m rambling a little it’s just I take my timelines very seriously and can’t stand when the math ain’t adding up.) ignoring the mess up in the time line I just didn’t like the needing to be related to someone to hurt Black Widow, and having her only exist like a pawn was upsetting for me. And the character as a whole.

Instead she could have just been anyone who was being abused. Maybe Dreykov found her and her unique abilities and abused that to his will and forced her to work for him. She could have been in the explosion but not related to him even, but he uses that event against her. “I saved you and made you what you are, you are in debt to me” or even worse the old “I took you in when you had no one, I’m the only one who would care about you now” obviously he’s a gross manipulative old man who had no regard for women. But there was so much to work with to make him even more evil and disgusting. He never cared who anyone was even his own daughter yikes— while I like the idea to a point it didn’t quite work in the long run and execution. But we can work around that! Let Antonia shit talk him constantly after he’s dead. It would be funny. Let Antonia be lazy too. I think she deserves to kick back and annoy people a little. I just want to see her healing and I’m trying to morph her into the little bastard Tony Masters any way I can.

She can really be an interestingly complex character, she could only be in it for money like Tony usually is, and that works, some people are just like that. Maybe she feels like she has nothing else in life (because she doesn’t) so money is the only thing that makes her happy. Besides this absolutely works for the name change to Toni Masters, who would want to keep the Dreykov surname??

All in all I had much to write about but started ranting and losing my process. What I really think is most important is letting her be a character, a unique one. Just because she’s gone through traumatic events doesn’t mean she has to be a brooding, serious, depressed character, let her be goofy and whatever because she went through a lot and this is how she copes!

Just let her own it and be a fresh take, something free from everyone. She doesn’t need her dad, sympathy, pity, Black Widow, nobody she is her own hero. And she just wants to do some shots at a bar because why not.

Oh and finally, let her date Ghost/Ava. I think they’d have a wonderful chemistry together.

[tonystarkreactor]

Falling on Deaf Ears

Inspired by this post by @reioka (because jesus it resonated hard), but it’s a bit different. Hope you like it!

Summary: It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t used to it. He had years and years of experience in being ignored. Hell, he’d grown up with Howard and Maria Stark as his parents. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times his six-year-old self had been dismissed from Howard’s presence, even when he’d been bouncing up and down with obvious excitement. And Maria-- well, Maria was always so busy. She’d give an absent ‘mm-hm’ every once in a while, but even those were rare compared to the complete apathy he usually got.

So this. He was used to this. And hey, at least he wasn’t getting hit this time around.

(Or five times Tony's ignored by his teammates, and one time someone finally listens.)

Link for AO3

I.

It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t used to it. He had years and years of experience in being ignored. Hell, he’d grown up with Howard and Maria Stark as his parents. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times his six-year-old self had been dismissed from Howard’s presence, even when he’d been bouncing up and down with obvious excitement. And Maria-- well, Maria was always so busy. She’d give an absent ‘mm-hm’ every once in a while, but even those were rare compared to the complete apathy he usually got.

So this. He was used to this. And hey, at least he wasn’t getting hit this time around.

“--but it can’t be Kevlar because while it’s strong, it’s not light enough, and isn’t nearly as flexible as human skin, so then I was curious and I started researching, and then I thought it could be nano cellulose, because it’s completely organic and way more flexible, but actually, it’s so organic it would react with the water in his body and it would get all bloated, and considering John Smith did not, in fact, blow up into a balloon, it couldn’t have been that. So then, I kept researching, and--”

Tony faltered as Clint glanced away, distractedly looking at the TV. Tony tried to smile, before halfheartedly continuing, “--And-- and it actually could be graphene, because it’s only made up of locked carbon crystals and is almost totally nonreactive, and it’s so light you could--”

And now Clint isn’t even looking at him at all, not even trying to make it seem like he’s paying attention.

“You-- you could actually have a layer as big as a football field, and it would still way less than...”

He isn’t listening.

“... a gram,” Tony mumbled, his hands shaking around his mug of coffee. He shut his eyes and set it down, shaking his head.

It didn’t matter. Really, it didn’t.

Tony refused to let out a breath as he silently stood up and disappeared from the room.

II.

God knew Tony liked to ramble, and despite him trying to stop himself, he constantly caught himself going on for a half hour without even stopping.

“And then this guy-- I don’t even know who the fuck he was-- just came up to me and told me-- he didn’t ask, he told me-- to sign his middle finger. I don’t know why, like was he gonna get it tattooed or something? That’s still not as weird, though, as the time when a guy…”

He didn’t even know when he’d started, but when he looked up, no one was even in the room. He looked towards the couch Steve had basically taken over the last few months. (He liked to draw in here. And watch Tony work. Not listen, though, apparently.) There was an abandoned, half-finished sketch on the coffee table.. Tony had no idea when he’d left.

Tony closed his mouth, setting down the Allen wrench he’d been fiddling with. He remembered, back in college, hanging out with Ty.

“Jesus Christ, Tony, do you ever shut up?”

Tony clenched his jaw before picking up the wrench and going back to work.

III.

The power had gone out all across the city, including the coffee shop he and Nat liked to disappear to sometimes in the middle of the night for coffees that were more sugar than coffee. When Tony pulled out his phone to find the cause of the power outage, his findings made it easy for him to pass the time with some chatting. Or rather, ranting.

“God, this is ridiculous. God fucking dammit, Justin Hammer can suck my-- you know what, no, he can’t, because I deserve better than that. Justin Hammer can suck a duck’s dick-- except no, even a rabid corkscrew-dicked duck deserves better than that. Wait, can ducks even get rabies? Justin Hammer can get rabies. Fuck, Hammer probably does have rabies, that’d explain his complete idiocy, not to mention how much he spits when he talks, Jesus Christ, and just how the hell does he manage to make a virus that causes power to go out all across Manhattan? How did that man ever finish the seventh gra--”

“Shit.”

Tony looked up from the floor, only to see Natasha’s face illuminated by her phone. She was-- she was playing a game, something that revolved around colors. Something that was completely absorbing her attention.

Attention that was not, as he thought, on him..

“Uh, Nat?” he said, his coffee suddenly feeling cold.

“Hm?” she hummed, tapping her thumb against the screen furiously. She didn’t bother to look up.

“Uh. Were you listening?” he asked, his voice sounding stupidly hopeful.

“Justin Hammer, idiot, something about duck dicks, I got it,” she said, before huffing as she lost again. “Dammit.”

Tony nodded, his voice sounding small and subdued. “Right.”

IV.

“And-- oh! Oh, you probably haven’t gone to Coney Island yet, have you? It’s fun, as long as, y’know, you don’t do the hot dog eating contest right before you ride the Cyclone. But the Wonder Wheel’s always fun. I mean, I was terrified of it when I was little, but that’s because I was scared of heights. It wasn’t like it was unfounded, though, I mean, I did fall off the roof of the mansion once. Not like. All the way to the ground. Just to one of the lower dormers. I don’t remember what I was doing. I think I was looking at the stars. Or maybe I was trying to launch a rocket. Actually, I think I might have been trying to set off a weather balloon.

“Whatever, point is, my fear wasn’t unjustified. I’m not afraid anymore, though. Of heights, that is. I’m afraid of loads of other stuff, like clowns? Dolls? All that nonsense? Yeah, no. Never. I will never allow those in my presence. At least I’m not scared of chickens. Rhodey is. They freak him out. I don’t know. Personally, I think it stems from a project involving an egg he had to do in his high school home ec class, but I’m no professional.

“What was I saying? Oh, yeah, you’d love Coney Island. You could totally invite Jane up for a weekend, it’s a prime date loca… tion.”

Thor wasn’t even standing next to him anymore. He was at a churro stand twenty feet back, smiling cheerfully at the vendor as he bought a few.

Tony closed his mouth before silently walking back to join the thunder god.

When Thor completed his purchase, he took a bite of his fried pastry. He turned to Tony, smiling widely. “Anthony! These cinnamon treats are delightful!”

Tony forced a grin. “Uh-huh.”

V.

Sometimes he wasn’t even chattering nonsense. Sometimes, it was important.

“Plus, something about just getting it off my chest, and putting it out there in the atmosphere, instead of holding this in… I mean, this is what gets people sick, you know. Wow, I had no idea you were such a good listener. To be able to share all my intimate thoughts and my experiences with someone, it just cut the weight of it in half. You know, it’s like a snake swallowing its own tail. Everything comes full circle...”

There was a thud, and Tony faltered. “And-- and the fact that you’ve been able to help me process…” He looked over, and Bruce was rubbing his eyes. He-- he just-- oh. He’d been sleeping.

“You with me?” Tony said, after a moment of hesitation, hoping he’d been wrong.

“Sorry, I was, yeah. We were at, um…”

Tony resisted a sigh. “Are you actively napping?” he said, not bothering to hide his offense.

Bruce stammered. “I was… I… I drifted.”

Tony bit his lip so he wouldn’t do something stupid like scream. “Where did I lose you?”

Bruce hesitated for a second, at least having the decency to look guilty, before he said, “Elevator in Switzerland.”

Oh. Oh. Okay. “So you heard none of it.”

Bruce shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He reached towards Tony, but the genius shifted away ever so slightly. “I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m not a therapist; it’s not my training--”

Tony’s frustration bubbled over. “So?” That’s not why he called Bruce, he was just-- his doctor told him he needed to talk to people, and he thought maybe his friend would listen, but no-- no, of course not.

“I don’t have the…”

“What, the time?” Tony finished, staring at his friend, trying not to show the way his brain was shutting down.

“Temperament.”

Tony nodded, before beginning to ramble about something meaningless so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret.

Because this had been important. It had been.

It had, hadn’t it?

1.

“--and God, he’s hopeless. He tries his best and all, but Jesus, he’s a disaster. Half the coffee I’ve ingested over the last twenty years has contained some kind of grease or oil. He has his own cone of shame that has his name on it. Honestly, he’s ridiculous. One time, though, I found him with a flower crown on his head, and I honestly have no idea how he got it. Where could Dum-E have gotten a flower crown? I think he and JARVIS were messing with me. God, those two could team up and do some ridiculous--”

Jesus Christ, Tony, do you ever shut up?

Tony cut himself off, barely glancing towards his companions before dropping his gaze to his hands, his hands fiddling with a thread on his jeans.

They didn’t care, stop fucking rambling for once in your damn life, just--

“Stark?”

Tony startled, looking up at Gamora, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Expectantly.

Wait. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Drax had turned away from looking out the window to look at him, Groot was swinging from the ceiling patiently, Rocket was looking up from the gutted gun in front of him, and Peter was sitting across from him with a grin on his face. His beloved Walkman (which used to make Tony cringe, but had since gained his own adoration as soon as he learned of the sentiment attached to it) was even paused.

“Huh?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“You were saying?” she said, tilting her head forward.

Tony blinked. “What?”

“You were telling us of your children,” Drax said. “JARVIS and the dumb one liked to team up and prank you.”

“Well--” Tony stumbled, his eyes flickering between each of them before looking at his hands again. ‘--yeah, but you guys don’t want to hear about all that.”

“What the hell makes you think that?” Rocket snapped, making Tony startle and look up. “We were all listening!”

“I am Groot!” Groot added, kicking his little legs and nodding enthusiastically.

Tony blinked, before he glanced around at them. “I-- no, it’s fine. Seriously. I get carried away sometimes. I didn’t realize I’d been talking so much, it’s fine. You guys can just-- you can just get back to what you were doing.”

Across from him, Peter frowned. Tony caught the look he gave around the room, but he didn’t get what it meant until everyone was quietly making their way out, going to different parts of the ship. Rocket grumbled and Groot sighed in defeat, but besides that, there were no protests.

Once they were alone, Peter walked around the table separating them and sat next to Tony, taking the genius’s hands in his.

“What was that, Tony?” he asked, and Tony winced when he heard the quiet hint of sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to prattle on and on. Just tell me to shut up whenever, okay?” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Peter huffed out an exasperated yet soft, “Aw, stardust,” before he gently pulled Tony from his own seat and into his lap. “You know I will never tell you to shut up, because I love hearing you talk. Your brain is awesome and your mouth is awesome, and I love everything that comes out of both.”

Tony huffed, ducking his head and hiding his face in Peter’s neck. “Peter…” he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“I’m serious,” Peter argued, pressing a kiss to Tony’s head. “You could literally talk about nothing at all for days on end, and I would never get tired.”

“That’s stupid,” Tony mumbled, his lips tickling Peter’s skin.

“Maybe, but it’s nowhere near as stupid as you thinking I don’t like it when you talk.” He ducked his chin so he could gently push Tony’s head up, and he gave him a raised eyebrow. “Would you like to tell me where exactly this worry came from?”

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes. “Pete…” he whined.

“Because if it was the Avengers--” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve got another thing to add onto my list of stuff to shoot them about.”

“You mean talk to them about,” Tony corrected, raising his eyebrows.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically. “If talk is a euphemism for shoot.”

“Peter.”

“Nuh-uh. If those assholes seriously made you think that people don’t care about what you’re saying, then they deserve to be shot. Everyone else agrees.”

“That’s because everyone else is gun-happy.”

“When it comes to the Avengers? Hell, yeah, we are.”

Tony rolled his eyes before dropping his head down again, allowing Peter to pepper his hair with kisses.

“Seriously, though,” Peter said. “I love it when you talk. I swear I do. Especially when you’re excited. You’re freakin’ gorgeous like that.”

“Peter,” Tony whined, even as Peter lifted his chin so he could kiss his neck.

“You are,” Peter sang, kissing up his neck and along his jaw. “You’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous--”

“You said that already.”

“Stardust, you’re so gorgeous, it counts three times,” Peter mumbled into his cheek, before finally pulling away and smiling at him. “Maybe four. Maybe five.”

Tony rolled his eyes, smacking Peter’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not as ridiculous as your eyes. Seriously, I could drown in those.” Ignoring Tony’s groan, he continued, “Really! There’s so pretty. I could literally stare at them all day. Like, your eyes, your lips, and your voice. That’s all I need for the rest of my life. I don’t ever need anything else. Not even food.”

Tony rolled his eyes, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re so dumb,” he muttered fondly.

“I dunno, I must’ve done something right if I got you,” Peter said.

Tony lifted his head, giving Peter an unimpressed look.

Peter grinned, tightening his hold around Tony’s waist. “So, do you wanna keep telling me about your AIs’ and bots’ shenanigans?”

“I could,” Tony said, smiling dopily as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against Peter’s. “But I’d kind of rather be kissing you.”

Peter grinned. “See, I told you your mouth is awesome.”

[daddynattt]

Good day/night! May I request a bottom Natasha x top avenger reader (female)

Something like Natasha crushing hard on reader and has been wanting to get with her for so long. And even though Nat has slept with plenty of men, she’s never slept with a woman before, so after love confessions are revealed and such, reader ends up giving Nat the night of her life like she’s never had before. Full hardcore love making and everything that for sure will leave the red head unable to walk properly the next day. Even with Nat saying “No one has ever made me feel that good like you just did” and lots of aftercare! Praise kink and moaning kink if possible?

Thank you for allowing me to submit my request! Have a good time!

I love bottom Nat <3 hope you enjoy.

Taking Chances

Summary: You and Natasha are both crushing hard on each other, so during a game of truth or dare, feelings come to light and are confessed, the two of you sharing an intimate night together.

Pairing: Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Female Reader

Warnings: Humour, Fluff, Smut, Love Confessions, Praise Kink, Moaning Kink, Fingering (Nat Receiving) Oral (Nat Receiving) Face Sitting (Nat on R) Strap-on Use (Nat Receiving), Overstimulation. 18+ only

Word Count: 3.8k

You look to the side as you feel someone staring at you from across the room, your suspicions correct when you see Natasha already looking at you, a blush rising to her cheeks when you catch her, instantly pulling a smile to your face. All of the Avengers were together in the common room, a weekly get together set up by Tony so you could all spend some quality time together and relax away from missions, taking the day off and enjoying each others company.

You and Natasha have been friends ever since you joined the Avengers. Your witty comments and sense of humor instantly drawing you in to her. The thing is, you want more with her. You know about her crush on you, the way she looks at you and how she acts gives her away even though she doesn’t think that you know, but you do. You also accidentally overheard her and Yelena speaking about her crush on you, but you’re waiting for her to make the first move because you don’t want to pressure her or force her into anything if she isn’t ready for a relationship. You know about her past and don’t want to rush her into anything to make her uncomfortable. 

“Sestra, stop looking at Y/n like a love sick puppy and go finally ask her out” Natasha scoffs as she looks at her sister. 

“Yeah right, and have her reject me? No thanks. I rather have her as my friend then make things awkward and ruin things between us” Yelena shakes her head as she hits her sister upside the head.

“You’re so clueless! She feels the exact same way about you, she looks at you like you’re the greatest person to ever exist” Natasha smirks and crosses her arms.

“That’s because I am, something you can’t relate to” Yelena rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue. 

“Whatever. We all know i’m the better sister, but seriously Sestra, on a serious note, you deserve happiness and Y/n is a great person, I mean she is my best friend after all so of course I approve. You won’t know unless you take the chance, and if in any way she doesn’t feel the same at least you tried and don’t have to keep wondering what if” Truth is, Yelena knows all about your crush on her sister and always encourages you to tell her, but you always tell her you’d rather wait for Natasha to make the first move. 

Natasha sighs, letting her shoulders slump as her eyes travel towards you again. 

“I know I know, i’m just… scared. My feelings for her are strong. I think I love her” Yelena smiles at her sister and wraps her arm around her shoulders.

“I know you do. C’mon, let’s join everyone”

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

“Guys! Let’s play truth or dare” Natasha rolls her eyes as she looks at Tony.

“No Tony, what are we, twelve?” You laugh and send her a smirk.

“Actually I want to play! I think it will be fun” Natasha shakes her head and smiles.

“Fine, I guess i’ll play the stupid game too” You hear Yelena and Wanda snickering to themselves and whispering as they look at you and Natasha.

“Of course you will Sestra!” Yelena laughs again and her and Wanda grab onto each other as they fall into a fit of giggles. You can’t help but laugh as you give Natasha a teasing smile.

“What? Are you scared you’re going to have to admit your deepest secret or something?” she rolls her eyes at you and let’s out a nervous breath.

“No, this game is just silly and Tony is a child” You laugh and put your hand on her arm, squeezing her bicep in hopes to calm her down. You bite your lip as you feel the muscle underneath your hand, your mind suddenly going in a totally different direction. Heat rises to her cheeks from your touch, and you let go as you look at everyone.

“So how we playing this? If you don’t answer or do the dare you gotta strip a piece of clothing?” you wink over at Natasha, then look around the room at everyone. Tony speaks up right away.

“I think that’s a great idea! I’ll go first. Yelena, truth or dare?”

“Dare of course! Do you even know me?” you roll your eyes at your best friend and shake your head.

“I dare you toooo… kiss the hottest person in the room” Yelena’s eyes instantly travel towards you, and you smirk at her as you raise your eyebrows up and down. You wonder if she will do the dare and finally make her move on Kate. You see the gears turning in her head before she gets up, making your eyes widen. She approaches Kate, the archer looking at Yelena with wide eyes before she feels a set of lips against hers, the two sharing a soft kiss. You grab onto Natasha’s arm and jump up and down in your seat excitedly. Natasha laughs and gives you a loving smile as she admires the way you look when you are all excited and care free. She’s absolutely infatuated by you. 

“Go Yelena!” she rolls her eyes at you but gives you an appreciative smile as she sits back down in her seat, looking at Kate with a smile, the archer blushing and giving her a shy smile back. After some dares going around, and some people stripping, Yelena makes her way back over to you as it’s her chance to ask again. 

“Y/n, truth or dare?” you give her a warning look, already knowing that whatever you choose, it’s going to involve Natasha. 

“Hmm, truth” she smirks at you, whispering something into Wanda’s ear, seeing them nodding to each other as they both look at you. 

“Do you have a crush on somebody in this room and if so who?” you internally groan, glaring at the two of them, seeing Natasha looking at you from the corner of your eye. You can either finally make your move and tell Natasha how you feel, or you can continue to keep it bottled inside and strip a piece of your clothing. You breathe out as you look around the room, nodding your head.

“Yes, I have feelings for somebody in this room” you look over at Natasha and grab her hand, pulling her up with you and walking the two of you to your room. You hear whistles and shouting as the two of you leave, but your focus is on Natasha only.

“Y/n? What’s going on?” you pull her into your room and sit down on your bed.

“Look Natasha, I didn’t want to be the first one to say anything because i didn’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable but I have very strong feelings for you and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to hold you and kiss you and give you all the love I have to offer. You are beautiful and amazing, and you deserve the absolute world, and I want to be the one to give that to you if you let me. I understand if you only want to be friends but what i’m saying is that I love you Natasha” when your eyes finally have the courage to move up off the floor and look at her, you can see tears in her eyes which makes you frown.

“Oh God i’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” she chuckles as she shakes her head, wiping away her tears as she looks at you. 

“No, everything was perfect. You make me feel so loved and special and i’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for so long but I was scared you would only see me as a friend. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before and I never thought I was deserving of it, so this is all new to me and it scares me, but you are so important to me and you don’t know how happy this makes me to hear you say all of this. I love you too Y/n” you can’t help the big smile that takes over your face, instantly wrapping your arms around her and holding her close against you. You feel her relax into your hold and after being wrapped up in each others arms for a few moments, you pull back and cup her cheek as you look into her eyes. 

“So beautiful, and all mine” the blush that takes over her face makes you smile and you can’t help the excitement you feel deep in your bones knowing she loves you back. 

“Can I kiss you?” she nods her head yes, and you don’t hesitate to press your lips against hers, the feel of her soft lips feeling better then you could have ever imagined. You pull back and look at her, looking for any signs that she doesn’t want this as much as you do. She smiles at you reassuringly, pressing her lips to yours once again as the kiss gets heated. You run your hands through her red locks, pulling her closer to you and kissing her deeper, moving them down to her waist as they travel underneath her shirt, feeling her soft skin beneath your fingertips. You feel her pulling back and you look at her, worried that you overstepped. She quells your worries, giving you a soft smile as she rests her forehead against yours. 

“I want you… So much you don’t even know, but i’ve never slept with a woman before. I don’t know what i’m doing. I don’t want to disappoint you or not be good or-“ you cut her off with a kiss to her lips, smiling lovingly at her as you stroke her cheek. 

“Nat, we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready, and I promise you that none of that matters because it’s you and everything with you is perfect no matter what” her shy smile makes you fall even deeper, and you are so grateful that she is opening up to you like this and communicating her worries.

“I want you.. Please Y/n” the way it comes out of her mouth so breathlessly makes your stomach swoop with butterflies, the coil in your stomach tightening, determination coursing through you at giving her the best night of her life and really showing her just how much you love her.

“Shh, don’t worry baby, I will take such good care of you tonight. Let me make you feel good and show you just how much i love you” you attach your lips to hers again, laying her down slowly on your bed as you hover over her. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer and you lick her bottom lip asking for entrance which she grants immediately. Your tongues battle for dominance and you take the upper hand, the moan she lets out into your mouth driving you wild. You pull back when breathing becomes necessary, your lips instantly attaching to her neck as you deposit soft kisses to her skin. 

“You sound so good when you’re moaning for me baby, it’s all for me right?” you feel her nodding underneath you, a whimper coming out of her mouth as your teeth pull on her earlobe. 

“Use your words my love” you kiss every part of her jaw and neck, leaving marks that will for sure be hard to cover up the next day. 

“Yes! it’s all for you Y/n, only you” you attach your lips to hers once again as you whisper against them. 

“That’s my good girl” you straddle her hips as you go to remove her shirt, smiling at the blush that takes over her face. You look at her asking for permission, and you pull her shirt over her head once she nods her head yes. You can’t help but to stare are her exposed chest and admire her, feeling tremendously lucky that it’s all for you and only you to look at. She goes to cover herself but you stop her, kissing along her chest and breasts, your hands roaming her entire body. 

“My pretty girl, no need to shy away baby, you’re gorgeous and i’m going to make you feel so so good” you remove her bra, grabbing her breasts into your hands and squeezing them, her moans encouraging you on.

“God your moans turn me on so much, you sound so good baby” she whimpers at your words, and you move down to take her nipple into your mouth, sucking and biting on the hard bud as her hand runs through your hair to keep your head in place. You move to the next one, giving it the same attention, your hands making their way to the waistband of her pants.

“Can I?” she nods rapidly and bites her lip.

“Please! Please Y/n.. I need you” you slide her pants and underwear down her legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor, the sight of her wet core making your mouth water, the urge to taste her strong.

“Fuck Nat you’re so wet for me and i’ve barely touched you. Such a good girl for me. Gonna make you feel so good” she mewls at the praise and you lay in between her legs, spreading them wide as you kiss and bite her inner thighs, her moans and whimpers spurring you on. You never want to stop hearing them. You look up at her, staring into her eyes as you kitten lick her folds, her head instantly thrown back at the amazing feeling.

You continue to lick her folds, her sweet taste instantly coating your tongue and making your eyes roll back. She tastes absolutely divine. You take her clit into your mouth, sucking on it as you slowly put a finger inside her gaping hole, she’s absolutely drenched that your finger easily slides in. You look up at her as you finger her, adding another as you look at her blissed out face.

“So good Y/n, please don’t stop” you move up as your fingers stay inside her, kissing her on the lips as your fingers move in and out of her at a fast pace. She moans in your mouth and you move your lips down to her neck, kissing at her skin and leaving love bites, the moans she lets out into your ear driving you absolutely crazy. Her hands tangle in your hair, keeping your head in place as you fuck her with your fingers, feeling her clench around them, indicating that she’s close.

“F-faster, fuck i’m so close. You feel so good Y/n” you move your fingers in and out of her faster, twisting them as you hit the spongey part inside her.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum” you rub her clit with your thumb as you move your fingers deeper and faster inside her, her juices instantly coating your hand and dripping onto the bed below as she has her very first orgasm of the night. You ride out her orgasm as she catches her breath, kissing her neck and chest as you let her come down from her high.  

“Wow.. that was amazing” you suck on your fingers as you clean them dry, kissing her once again, her taste lingering on your tongue causing her to moan at the taste of herself.  

“You did so good for me baby. God you taste so good I just want to taste you all night long” she blushes at your words, tugging on your shirt as she looks up at you.

“Can I undress you? I wanna feel you” the way she asks it so shyly makes you smile, and you nod your head as you allow her to pull your clothes off your body. Once you’re naked with her, you press your body against hers, the both of you moaning at the skin to skin contact. You look at her and kiss her softly, a thought coming to your mind.

“Have you ever.. sat on anyone’s face before?” she blushes and hides her face into your neck, shaking her head no. You can’t help but to laugh at her embarrassed state, the thought of her sitting on your face and pulling multiple orgasms out of her turning you on even more then you already are. 

“Do you want to try? I want you to suffocate me with those thick thighs till i can’t breathe anymore and pass out” she giggles and slaps at your chest, biting her lip as she contemplates it, the thought of sitting on your face making her more wet then she already is.

“Are you sure? Nobody i’ve ever slept with before has ever mentioned to try that” you roll your eyes and lay down on your back, looking at her with a teasing smile.

“Yeah because the guys you’ve been with don’t know how to properly please a woman and didn’t appreciate you in all your glory, because trust me, I want nothing more then for you to ride my face and make a mess on me as you cum over and over again” she moans at your words, the thought of riding your face turning her on. She shyly moves up towards you, straddling your stomach as she places her hands on your chest, looking down at you. 

“Are you sure?” you grab onto her thighs and squeeze them, pulling her up towards you and allowing her to straddle your face, instantly attaching your mouth to her dripping core. You moan as her sweetness instantly enters your mouth, eagerly lapping at her folds as you swallow her juices down your throat. 

“You taste so fucking good baby, be a good girl for me and ride my tongue” she moans and throws her head back, grabbing onto the headboard as she rides your face. You grab onto her thighs to hold her in place, never wanting her to get off of you.

“Fuck, your tongue feels so good baby” you moan against her, the vibration making her whimper as she rides your face faster, her juices coating the bottom half of your face, her legs shaking on either side of your head.

“Oh my God, can I please cum? Please?” you nod against her, and she instantly lets go into your mouth, her taste so sweet that you greedily swallow it all. You pull two more orgasms out of her, her moans is music your ears, along with her addicting taste and she rides your tongue slowly to prolong each of her highs, moving herself down your body as she slumps against you, laying her head against your chest as she catches her breath. You run your hand up and down her back, kissing her head as you look down at her, flipping the two of you over as you lay your body on top of hers.

“I’m not done with you yet pretty girl, I wanna fuck you with my cock till you can’t feel your legs” she moans and looks at your backside as you get up off the bed, grabbing your strap from the closest and attaching it to your body. She bites her lip as she looks at the sight in front of her, the view of the strap attached to your body exciting her. You join her back on the bed, getting in between her legs, sliding the toy against her folds to get it wet. 

“I need you inside baby please” you kiss her lips as you line the toy at her entrance, pushing yourself into her, wishing you could actually feel her walls wrapped around you. She moans into your ear, her nails digging into your shoulders at the stretch. You fuck into her at a slow pace, your arms on either side of her head as you kiss her neck. 

“Fuck Nat, I love you. Thank you for giving yourself to me like this. Gonna make you cum so hard on my cock, fuck you’re gonna make me cum too baby” you fuck into her faster, your own orgasm close, her nails scratching up your back making you hiss at the pain. 

“Oh my God! Harder baby please” you grab her legs and put them over your shoulders, bending them as you fuck her harder, your skin slapping together as you pound into her, your orgasm so close as the strap is hitting against your clit in the best way possible, her moans that she lets out driving you closer to your release. 

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum Nat, your moans are so sexy and turn me on, cum on my cock baby, make a mess for me” her back arches as she screams your name, her orgasm hitting her hard as she squirts all over you, her body shaking and spasming beneath you as her vision turns white, your orgasm hitting at the same time at the sight in front of you. You ride out both your orgasms as you move in and out of her slowly, little whimpers coming out of her at being overstimulated.

“Fuck, you just squirted all over me. That was so fucking hot” she tries to catch her breath at the overwhelming feeling taking over her body, your words lost on her as she takes deep breaths, her mouth dry and her mind hazy.

“Shh, breathe baby, that’s it deep breaths” you get up off the bed, removing the strap and leaving it in the bathroom as you grab a wet towel, going to the mini fridge you have in your room and grabbing a water bottle, before making your way back over to Natasha. You clean her up, apologizing when she flinches back from being sensitive, opening the water bottle and putting it to her lips so she can drink some. Once she’s done drinking you lay down beside her, pulling her into you as she lays her head against your chest, closing her eyes and letting the warmth and safety she feels from you calming her down. Once she regains her composure, you look down at her and give her a loving smile once she looks up at you, a tired smile on her face. 

“I can’t feel my legs” you let out a laugh through your nose as you kiss her forehead, running your hand up and down her exposed back, feeling incredibly lucky to have her in your arms like this. She snuggles more into you, placing her face into the crook of your neck as she relishes in the way you hold her protectively against you, your strong arms and warm embrace making her feel safe and loved for the first time in her life.

“No one has ever made me feel that good like you just did” you smile to yourself, feeling your heart bursting with love at the confession, making it your goal to make her feel this way every time you are intimate with her, determined to give her all the love you have to offer her. You deposit a soft kiss to her lips when she looks up at you, stroking her cheek as you look into her eyes and smile lovingly at her.

“I love you Nat. Will you be my girlfriend?” she grins at you and nods her head yes, kissing your lips repeatedly as her excitement takes over. You think to yourself that you promise from this day on to give Natasha everything she could ever want or ask for, promising to love her till the very end. You’re never letting her go. 

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 37. a call with nat and peter.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics. evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

“Steve,” Natasha’s comfortingly familiar voice rings through my ear as I adjust my phone slightly against the side of my face, trying to hear her as clearly as possible.

“Hey Nat,” I say, a small smile finding its way across my lips. Shifting myself on the uneven mattress of the old bed, I turn to lean up against the wall. We’ve been staying in Bucky’s secret hide-out for a week now, and this morning my spy friend reached out and asked if we could have a call. Of course I said yes; I’ve been missing her like crazy. Been missing them all like crazy. I don’t know if I could ever get used to not living with a bunch of my closest friends. Of course, being with Bucky and Willa is great; I adore them both, but there’s so much to miss about the others. Clint’s dry humor and childish pranks. Bruce’s unmatched intelligence and warm demeanor. Peter’s chipper attitude and unmistakable innocence. Wanda’s wise, timeless soul. Thor’s… peculiar personality. “It’s really great to hear your voice.”

“Yours too,” Nat breathes, her relief evident in her tone. “Are you guys okay? I won’t ask where you are; it probably wouldn’t be wise to tell anyone that kind of information right now, but at least- are you alright? How’s Willa?” she rushes out, seemingly quite worried for the child.

“We’re alright,” I assure her. “We’re somewhere safe. Willa’s okay. Tony burnt her up pretty bad, but she’s healing quickly. Hopefully the scarring won’t be too permanent.” Natasha hums on the other end of the line, letting out a sigh.

“I still can’t believe… I’m never going to forgive him for that, you know,” she tells me seriously.

“I know,” I nod. “I’m right there with you. I had no idea he would take things that far.” I think what Tony did shocked everyone, regardless of allegiance.

“He’s got some serious self-control issues,” Nat seethes. I nod again, knowing she’s right.

“How are things over there?” I ask carefully. “Is Wanda okay? What about Clint and Sam?” Though I’ve sent a few hopeful texts over the past few days, I haven’t heard anything from the people who were on my side, which has been cause for great worry.

“Tony had them… detained,” Nat reveals. I sigh heavily, my head hanging in defeat.

“Are you serious? He had them arrested?”

“He turned them in to Secretary Ross,” she explains. “They’re being held in a secure unit offshore. Tony and I went to visit them yesterday. It’s- I don’t know what to say, Steve. They’re in prison uniforms, locked up in high-security cells.” Raising a hand to my mouth, I let out a muffled groan, guilt and anger building in my gut.

“What on earth are they being held for?” I ask.

“Helping you escape. And Ross is convinced they know where you are, which means they’re supposedly withholding information regarding fugitives.” I can hear the frustration in my friend’s voice, and it becomes clear to me that she’s truly just as unhappy about all this as I am.

“They don’t know where we are,” I tell her firmly. “I didn’t even know where we were going until Bucky landed the plane. Are they- oh god, Nat. Please tell me they’re not interrogating them; please tell me they aren’t trying to extract information from them like-”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Nat tells me quietly. “Clint said they were all questioned. Sam was pretty upset about the way he and Clint were being thrown around. And Wanda… Wanda wouldn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice dropping to almost a mere whisper.

“She- she wouldn’t even look at us. They have her tied up in some sort of straight jacket to keep her from using her powers. She just kept herself huddled in the corner of her cell. I don’t want to assume anything, Steve, but she… she looked pretty rough,” Nat admits. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach as I swallow hard, a lump forming in my throat.

“Do you think they hurt her?” I ask, my entire body filling with dread. Natasha sighs and stays silent for a moment, a million worries beginning to swirl around in my head. “Did she have any marks, any bruises? Did she look like they were feeding her and taking care of her okay? She really didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you?” I bombard my friend with questions, not wanting to believe that anyone could harm Wanda, especially because of something I caused.

“I don’t know, Steve. I’m sorry,” Nat says. “I wish I knew. I tried to negotiate and get her out of there, get them all out of there, but Ross won’t budge. Tony even tried; there’s nothing we can do.”

“God,” I huff, shaking my head and brushing my hair back anxiously through my shaking fingers. “This is all my fault. I should’ve known they would take them; I should’ve gotten us all on board-”

“Hey, don’t,” Nat warns, “none of this falls on you. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Tony. He should’ve been helping you resolve this whole mess with Bucky, not shooting at you as you tried to board the Quinjet.” I swallow again, wanting so badly to believe that Natasha’s right, but unable to fully convince myself that I truly hold no responsibility. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’ve been doing as much digging as I can about what happened in Vienna. Bruce is helping me; he doesn’t think it was Bucky either. We don’t have anything solid yet, but we’re getting there. We will get through this. You’ll come home. And so will Wanda. So will all of them.”

“Thank you Nat,” I whisper softly, touched that she and Bruce would be putting in so much work to prove Bucky’s innocence. “I just hope this’ll all be over soon.”

“It will be,” she promises me. “Oh,” she adds, a sudden perk of interest clear in her voice. “Someone wants to say hi. You got the time?”

“Sure,” I shrug, not knowing who she’s talking about. “Not like I’ve got a busy schedule these days, anyway.” There’s a shuffling noise on the other end of the phone, and soon, a new voice pops up.

“H-hey Cap.”

“Peter,” I murmur, another smile forming on my face, this one laced with warmth and tenderness. “Hey buddy, how are you?”

“’m fine, sir. How are things over where- where you are? How’s Willa? And- and Bucky?”

“Things are just fine over here. We’ve got a safe place to stay with a roof over our heads, food to eat, and even a TV to watch. Willa’s getting her daily fix of Paw Patrol, so she’s all good. We’re alright, pal,” I tell him, not wanting him to worry excessively about us. Peter worries about practically everything under the sun, so whatever I can take off his plate, I’m happy to reassure him about. “How are you doing? Are things okay back at the tower?”

“We’re alright, sir,” the boy tells me, his repeated use of the title breaking my heart. It’s a well-known fact that Peter slips into a quite submissive state whenever he feels frightened, so his use of the word ‘sir’ is always a bad sign. “It’s… um… it’s weird, not having you here,” he admits. “Miss Willa, too. It’s- she-… I found one of her toys under the couch when Thor and I were playing hide-and-seek,” he mumbles. I soften at the sadness in his voice.

“Willa misses you too, bud. She talks about you a lot,” I tell him.

“She- she left her teddy bear here; he’s just sitting on her bed,” Peter sniffles, his voice cracking. “I-I know it’s probably weird that I go into her room but I… I do it anyway, just to s-see her stuff, and I-I… I sit on her bed and- and just think about when she was here, w-with me, y'know?”

“Oh Peter,” I breathe gently, the shakiness of his voice ripping my heart to shreds. “I know, buddy. I know how bad you must miss her; you love her a whole lot, don’t you?”

“M-more than anything,” he croaks, the pure vulnerability in his voice causing tears to build in my own eyes. “E-ever since she got here she- I-… I’ve tried to be her best friend, like a big brother for her. I h-hate that she’s gone. I can’t t-take care of her when she’s… I can’t make sure she’s safe, and…” His words turn into muffled sobs as he breaks down entirely. “I-I’m sorry, sir- Mr. Ro- Ste- C-C-Cap,” he hiccups.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, Peter. It’s okay; you can cry. You don’t have to be sorry,” I murmur. “I’m sorry for taking Willa away from you. I don’t like that you’re not with her, either. I promise, I’m gonna do everything I can to get her back to you soon, okay? She needs you just as much as you need her.”

“I h-hate this,” Peter cries, the exhaustion and anger evident in his voice. From the boy who’s always so positive and bright, this shift in attitude is deeply concerning. “They took Clint and S-Sam and Wanda. Th-they took them and now- now they’re… I-I don’t even know, I just- I w-want everything to go back to normal,” he whimpers. “P-please, sir. Everything’s so messed up and- and I can’t take it.”

I swallow hard, wishing I could offer more to the boy than what I currently have. “I know, Pete. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, buddy. I want everything to go back to normal, too. More than anything. I hate it too.” Peter takes in a shaky breath and I sigh, hating myself for all the stress this is causing the poor kid. “I promise you, okay? Remember that, please. I promise you, this is all gonna be sorted out, and things will go back to normal. We’re gonna figure it out, Peter. I swear.”

“Please,” the boy pleads, fatigue building in his voice as he begs one last time. “C-can’t take this. Please sir, can’t take this anymore.”

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[darkacademicfrom2021]

Away. So, so far away.

"There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever".

Pairing/s: Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

There's 2 alternative endings, a "choose your own adventure" kind of thing.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Warnings: angst. God, believe me, this is so fucking sad. Sorry about that. Some fluff, implied smut, Odin and Frigga's A+ parenting (/s). Thor being a little bitch. Reader not wanting kids.

Total word count: 16,3K (this was supposed to be an oneshot???)

Chapter word count: 4,6K

1

If you had to choose the best outcome from working with the Avengers (or, more specifically, under the economic decisions of Tony Stark), it had to be the hotels he chose for the team on the missions.

The rooms were always a bliss —you would’ve never gone to such fancy places if it were up to you. You didn’t think it was worth the money at all, and you didn’t fit into the overpriced lifestyle of those who loved the five-stars everything.

But your work was something you had to do, and, let’s say the comfortable beds, big bathrooms and incredibly talented chefs making your breakfast wasn’t something you had to work hard for you to enjoy.

And now, as your sore muscles ached and your fogged head went everywhere and anywhere, you thanked greatly to be able to be there that night. Peaceful. Tranquility washing over your back in the form of drops of water.

The mirror was covered with steam and a curtain blocked your way, but you still noticed the tall figure of Loki peeping in. You heard his clothes being dropped on the floor and you kept on putting soap over your shoulders, as if he wasn’t there. You were so, so tired, you didn’t even realize that the shower was a little bit too hot for your lover. It even was too hot for you, too.

“Damn”, he gasped as he flinched away from the water. You woke up from your daydreaming and immediately turned the cold water on. The mixture of them formed a perfectly tepid temperature you both could tolerate. You learnt the hard way Loki showered on such cold water your lips would turn blue. “You alright, dear?”, he asked from behind you.

“Yeah, a little tired, not more”.

“You need some rest, take the day off tomorrow, would you?”, he purred on your ear with his hands on your shoulders, giving you a soft massage. His hands moved up to your hair, and he soon began cleaning it himself. He loved to do that for you, and you loved to feel his long fingers caress your scalp, the soap running down your body, the shampoo smell staining his own skin and leaving the shower smelling the same.

“I have to finish this mission up”, you mumbled. “But once we’re back to the compound you bet we’re taking a day off together. You must be tired too”.

“Not that much, but I can’t deny a day off with you”, you felt him smile, even though you weren’t facing him. You knew how and when he smiled; you memorized the curve of his lips and every situation it would curve. His smile did things to you. “You know I don’t get tired off of these things”.

“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re a God or something”.

You both laughed softly. He gently pulled your head back and cleaned off the shampoo. He kissed your temples, all the way down to the nape of your neck, and kept kissing each protuberance of the spine, bone by bone, as if missing one would make it feel left out. As if every inch of you, every single bit of you, deserved the same praise and the same love —it did. He made sure you knew that.

“It’ll be all over soon”, he promised in a whisper. You sighed.

“Don’t worry, my love. It will pay off”, you assured him. You turned around to face his furrowed brows. Standing in your tiptoes, you reached his forehead and planted a kiss where his frown disappeared as if by magic. “Now it’s my turn to wash your hair”. He smiled and kneeled before you, so you could reach his head.

You shampooed and conditioned his hair slowly and silently. He closed his eyes, not letting you know he was overthinking about everything he was making you do, and how much he appreciated you doing it.

“You know…”, he murmured, his deep voice almost getting mistaken by a groan if it weren’t for the clearly spoken words, “we could stop all of this, if you see it… surpassing your limitations”.

He opened his eyes and raised his head to meet yours. Those puppy eyes of his. You scoffed.

“Limitations?”, you cocked an eyebrow and smirked teasingly.

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“You know you’re a weakie”, he said jokingly, emphasizing on how bad that word described you at his gaze. “Now, seriously. I’m aware it’s a lot. A lot, lot”.

“Love, you don’t have to keep worrying about it. I accepted because I love you so, so much. Some even could say too much”, you caressed the back of his head and sank your fingers in between the curled strands. “I may not agree with it ideologically, but I can make a little sacrifice if that means being with you for the rest of my life. And, for the record, it’s not as much as you think”.

He didn’t say anything else to that. He simply smiled again, pressed lips in the tiniest curve, as if repressing it would make it last longer, and let you wash the conditioner off him.

You could do very well with a day off, though. Between the missions that seemed to never stop and only get worse week by week, and the infinite amount of trials you had to go through by the Asgardian royals, you thought you may pass out any time soon.

The trials… ah, the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life. And that was not little to say, for you had fought freaking aliens and helped supersoldier’s wounds to heal in a matter of seconds with Stark’s subdermic nanotech.

Loki had a possibility, a chance to have everything he ever wanted to have, and he could’ve taken it. They said ‘you can have the throne now’, as if it had always been that easy, and he didn’t take it right away, as if it hadn’t been the thing he most wanted.

“The thing I most want, little darling, is you”, he told you when he explained what had happened.

And you swore he was about to propose —he almost took off a damn ring off his pocket. But he didn’t, and instead, he related carefully and detailedly what had to happen before he could marry you, if he were to get the throne. You had to show your in-laws you were a good companion for the King.

And that sucked. Why did it matter so much? You loved him and he loved you, and he was going to be a great King. That was all that mattered for both of you. But the conditions were very clear, and had no room for argument. And you wouldn’t let Loki give up his unfulfilled wish to rule the realms, nor would he give it up now that he had the chance.

So there you were, balancing between the missions and the trials. Which were very sexist, in fact. Who would’ve thought royals and Gods would be so conservative? You laughed. They varied between many housekeeping duties, archery, Asgard’s history, a lot of politics, the cooking and baking of different Asgardian treats, and a lot of those idiotic kind of trainings of putting books over your head and walking in heels. They said they had to transform an avenger into royalty, and you almost laughed in their face. Loki did.

It was impossible you'd ever actually become who they wanted you to change into. A submissive and silent companion, not possessing any other ability than smiling politely and attending your husband's needs? You were so incredibly far from even being like that, that not even Strange could see a reality in where you'd do it.

But you could pretend. You passed the first dozen trials, and passed them well. Odin had started growing a certain liking to your attitude, much unlike Frigga, who was increasingly repulsed by it. She was trying her best in transforming you, a lost cause in her eyes, into whatever she found fitting to accompany her younger son.

"Your mother's idea of a 'good' partner is very different from mine", you said over a glass of wine, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. Loki was sitting over the counter reading a book. He closed it over his lap and marked the page with a wooden spoon that was on handy.

"Mine too", he sighed. "She doesn't see that you already are perfect".

"I don't think she'd see me with your eyes".

"You must remember she was raised to be the princess that would someday marry Odin. She has no other view of marriage than… changing the true self. Much as she taught me shapeshifting, we have all learnt different ways to hide underneath a veil of lies and deceiving".

You took in his sincere words and went back to silence for a while. He didn't go back to his book, instead, he looked at you. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, but asking felt like an intrusion of some sort. You looked back at him, an invitation to ask. He then asked,

"How do you feel about it?".

You nodded with no reason to nod. Pressed your lips in a line, a smile that wouldn't form just yet. Not for this.

"I sincerely don't know", you finally said. He hummed. "I love you, that's all I know. My perception of marriage doesn't mean giving everything and everyone up. But again, in my perception of marriage I never thought I would actually marry a prince. I know this is how it is. I know this is what has to be done".

"It doesn't", he jumped off the counter and surrounded your waist with his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. "Love, this can be solved. I don't want you to resign everything and everyone. This is not how it has to go if you don't like it. Say the word. Say the word and…", he sighed.

"And you'll resign your everything and everyone?", you chuckled.

"You're my everything and everyone, I wouldn't be resigning anything I don't already have".

"Liar. You want this", you said almost in a whisper. Turning around to face him, you cupped his face and kissed his chin. "You can have it. I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel guilty".

"I have reasons to feel that way".

"I'm just being dramatic".

"You're not".

"I really am", you assured him. Love sometimes was protecting him from your thoughts. Love sometimes was waking up from a nightmare where he died and not telling him about it. Love sometimes was not worrying him and lying. Or was it? Were you protecting him or were you creating a demon? "This is your big chance. Do I have a big chance here? I don't. My big chance so far has been being by your side. You make me blindly happy. I don't care if I have to change some things to please your parents, we both know I wouldn't actually change. We can see underneath the acting. You know me".

"I know you enough…", he started saying, with no need to finish it. I know you enough to know you don't want this.

"Let's have dinner", you smiled, and he kissed your forehead.

Love sometimes was accepting, he thought. Accepting you didn't want to talk about it that much. Love sometimes was sharing time. Sharing that glass of wine while sharing moments in the kitchen. Sharing the dinner you cooked together. Sharing time. Sharing. And this… Loki knew he wasn't sharing. He was taking his chance and making you go through it without you wanting it. But you shared —your life, your motivations, your fears, most of your thoughts. And you shared your thoughts about it, yet he could sense that wasn't all. You were keeping some worries to yourself, and that was what preoccupied him the most.

In the training room, you avoided Thor’s blasts and threw your daggers, trying to practice over the little things the Queen had taught you. Loki observed from afar, not wanting to distract you. He stared proudly, knowing who he was going to marry. It was not bad at all.

You had started liking that part of the training. You catched interest for Asgard’s history, politics, and the trainings of archery and dagger-fighting. You grew fonder of the idea of living in his Palace, and, to him, nothing sounded better than you calling him my King in front of everyone. But, whatever would come for the future, would come brightly.

You weren’t closer with Thor than with any other Avenger. And you weren’t exactly friends with anyone. You got along pretty well. Tony Stark liked your fierce personality, and laughed at the contrast between your bitterness in the field to your kind essence in any other situation.

Steve Rogers constantly pointed out how hilarious it was that someone like you would end up with someone like Loki. Both took it personal —Loki thought it was an offence to him, “how could someone as caring and sweet as you end up with that mass murderer”. You thought it was an offence to you, “how could someone as dull and incompetent as you end up with a literal God”.

Natasha Romanoff… She didn’t talk much. But, unlike James, she didn’t even try to communicate. James was interesting, and you were sure you would call him a friend, someday. He wasn’t very talkative, but he was always there. Always laughed at your jokes. He memorized your coffee order. He liked the same shows you did and watched them with you, in silence. He was quiet, but his actions spoke to you much more than any other Avenger. Although, James “Bucky” Barnes, was not an Avenger. Much like Loki. He was just there, he was always helping.

“How are the trials?”, asked Thor, avoiding one of your daggers without much effort. You weren’t actually good at it. Thor had learnt to avoid them for the last thousand years.

“I have a week left, and then it’s done. I think I’m doing pretty good”, you said, hiding your exhaustion. Thor was barely moving and you couldn’t catch up to him as much as you tried. He laughed when you fell, and helped you up, only to blast you again with a tiny electric wave, that at that point you felt no more than a tingling sensation.

“My son”, heard Loki from behind him. He turned around and made a small reverence to her. She smiled and stood by his side, observing you too. “I see their determination”.

“Nothing better for a King’s companion, yes?”, he said, proud dripping off his words. Frigga rolled her eyes and nodded. She wasn’t amused that Loki, from all the choices he had, had chosen a dull midgardian to follow him for less than a century. And then he’d had to choose again. Hopefully, someone who would live longer than a damn heartbeat.

“We ought to have a little talk, boy”, she finally said, and Loki’s heart tightened with nervousness. Very few people managed to get him that nervous over a couple of words. “Join me to a more… private space”.

They walked in silence until his room seemed like the best option. Room was a formal way to call it, for it was huge as an apartment. You both had managed to make a standardized-looking studio apartment into a cozy space, decorated with care and dedication. It was obvious Loki’s good taste and your inherent warmth had a big role on the decorations.

Frigga roamed around the room, observing the hung pictures and passing a finger through the white Christmas lights. She stopped at a particular photograph of Loki and you ice skating. He was carrying you as if you were a feather-weight doll, your seemingly cold hands wrapping his blue neck. Frigga stared at the actions developing at that moment. Under your cold touch, he was half transformed in his Jötun form, completely comfortable. You looked at his eyes with a glimmer that Frigga knew it to be the same Loki looked at you with. You were both laughing, and he seemed to have carried you up bridal style only to tease you into throwing you into a snow pile.

“Mother?”, Loki pulled her off of her thoughts. She turned around. “You wished to talk about something”.

“You seem… in love”, she murmured under a confusing expression. Despite Loki’s perceptiveness, he couldn’t figure out if his mother was repressing a smile or holding back a frown of sadness. Perhaps both.

“I am, mother”, he admitted, appearing a mug of tea in her hand and inviting her to sit on one of the couches. “If I must be sincere with you, as I always have been, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way for anyone”.

“For a mortal, Loki…”, she sighed and sipped her tea. “You know what will happen now. You’re so… attached”.

“As attached as you are to Father, not as one is to a puppy pet”, he clarified.

“But much more like a puppy pet, they’ll live less than a quarter of your life. Much less. In fact, you’ll blink twice and you’ll be by an empty space on your bed, my dear”.

“I certainly hope you’re getting to a point here”, he scoffed. He’s had this conversation countless times before, and his mother never gave in.

“There is this last thing in the trials…”, she said, raising her eyebrows and getting up to pace around the room once again, barely watching over the decens of good moments in pictures you had displayed on the wall. “One thing that has to be surely not optional”.

Loki sipped on his own tea, looking out the window. He watched the spider boy try the man of iron’s flying boots and crush against a window. It was a much better thing to have his mind on, than in what his mother had just implied.

He didn’t realize it, but a few tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he had to swallow harder to speak his mind. The implication alone of what that meant… he knew all of this would crumble under his touch. Sooner or later, he would have to make a choice, and he’d choose the wrong thing.

Both options were the wrong thing. There was no way out. There was no right path to follow.

“There has to be a way out of this question. Of this decision”, he hurried. His mother chuckled.

“Given your reaction, son, it doesn’t sound like there’s much to decide. It’s an answered question, and we all know it”.

“Yet you thought it wise to pull them through all of these trials, all of these…”, his lips trembled, and he had to stop to take a breath. “To rouse us with the illusion of the better life we always dreamed of?”.

“I had warned you about it, Loki. There is no us in your daydream for the throne. And much less with a short-lived being such as a midgardian. I had warned you”, she repeated, and rage boiled on Loki’s veins.

“Why is it that everytime I get a glimpse of what a good future could look like, it gets destroyed before it arrives?!”, he lost his temper, raising his voice. The tea fell to the carpeted floor and he didn’t even look at it. Frigga didn’t flinch, and walked closer to him. She gave him an arm-length grab on his shoulders that was supposed to calm him down.

“Hush, little boy… this is for…”, she tried to soothe the wound she opened, but he interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“For my own good? Were you going to say that, Frigga?”, he hissed. His mother dropped the arms. She didn’t like when he called her by name. It implied things he had implied before, and were no less true than what he felt like. Apart. Away. “And must I remind you I’m not a little boy you need to protect and make decisions for? This is ridiculous. I’m given, once again, the illusion of the choice”.

“Oh, Loki, when have I ever given you a golden apple you couldn’t actually reach?”, she folded her arms, furrowing her brows. “I’ve taught you magic so you could be unstoppable. I’ve raised you equally, despite your roots. I’ve…”, she enlisted, and Loki’s chest hurt so tightly he thought he’d finally die. He couldn’t speak. “I’ve left everything to your reach. Your arm just wasn’t long enough. You could’ve stretched it further, yet you decided to go for another apple, and that, my son, is not our fault”.

Loki sat on the floor, and she stayed standing. The height difference that would always make her look up at him was now gone, dissolved as the confidence Loki had gathered in the past few years he’s been living in Midgard, away from all of those words. Away from what he considered at some point, the truth. And you weren’t there to hug him and squeeze the lies away —it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, he repeated himself like a machine. It wasn’t true, although it felt so much like it.

“Loki? You haven’t said a word in…”, she began saying, rotting her patience of steel.

“What would you like me to say?”, he asked, blinking some tears away. He got up, not letting her see how much smaller he felt now. Words are just words. “Perhaps you could facilitate me with a script, so I would never wrong my path again, yes?”, he spat sarcastically.

“Oh, son. You musn’t…”.

“Take this personally, I’m aware. Now, if you excuse me, my beloved will come from training any time soon now, and it would be very unpleasant for you to come across them and have to greet them, right? So I’d suggest we wrap up our little chat and you go… Queen around”.

“Now, you’re being just rude. I wouldn’t wish you to fail in anything”.

“I’ve never said that. You said that I’m just too… incompetent to reach, the apples, was it? Were you talking about Iduna’s or was it a metaphor for all the things you’ve taken from me?”.

“You’re putting words in my mouth”.

“You’re right. You’ve never taken anything from me. You’ve never given them in the first place. You’ve only put them near, so I could want them enough, and then give them to your real son”.

“You’re my son, too. You’re a real son, too, Loki”, she extended her palms for him to grab, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around.

“Excuse me. I must have misunderstood”. 

“You certainly did”.

“Perhaps it’s because I live in a world of illusions, and I’m forgetting what’s real and what’s not”.

She nodded, hiding impatience. Without saying another word, she teleported away, disappearing behind a veil of yellow lights, like a flame surrounding and consuming her.

Loki dropped to the floor again, and inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, inhaled… 

“Love?”, you asked, dropping your water bottle on the table without unlocking your eyes from him. You kneeled next to him immediately. “Love, what’s happening? Are you bad?”.

If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve laughed at the comparison of what caring for the other meant in your eyes and his family’s.

He didn’t let you see his face —torn apart, wet with cold tears that solidified to the touch of his skin, the blue form that couldn’t hide when he was too upset, or too broken, like he was right then.

He sank in your arms, hugging you as tightly as he allowed himself to. Grasping for your touch, for you to never leave him, for your soul to never leave your body and stay with him for the rest of his life.

His mother was right, he thought. He was all she said he was, and that hurt him. But it stung him even more when he knew how right she was about his short-lived being beloved. He was going to pull away from your hug and you would take a few more breaths, and that was it. And your worried face, frowning your expression as you couldn’t see what had taken over his lover this time, would become cold as marble.

“Please, please—I can’t live without you, not like this—not anymore”, he sobbed over your neck, sinking deeper into the embrace you would oh so tightly hold and hold —you wouldn’t let him go, not ever, not if you had the chance to. And Loki knew you would actually do it. He’d lose you because you would never agree to that, and with good reason.

“You don’t have to, I’m not leaving. I’m here, Loki. I’m here, love, and you’re alright. Deep breaths, breathe with me, love, come, breathe with me”, you helped him calm down, rubbing big circles on his back, your palms open and warm trying to cover the immensity of him compared to you.

There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever.

He could, on the other hand, keep you as far as he could manage to.

He was already stable, now. You cuddled him on the couch, weighted blanket surrounding his body, a few ice cubes inside a bag for his forehead and neck —you knew it would always make him feel less pushed, keeping his Aesir form costed an extra amount of energy he sometimes couldn’t handle to bare— and your hand kept brushing his hair, braiding it, letting him know he was safe.

He opened his eyes and there you were —an angel, a healer caring for his wounds. He sighed at your sight, and embarrassed himself for even thinking about it. No, no. Of course he would choose you. He would never choose the throne if he had to give you up. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He raised a hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered.

“Don’t be”, you assured.

“I… I have to ask”.

“Tell me”.

And so he asked,

“Would you, ever, at any given point of your life, want to have a child with me?”.

You stayed silent. You looked at him, every bit of his face, every expression that would tell you what he was actually thinking about. Why was he asking this now? After all of this? He knew the answer, why would he bring it up again?

And then it hit you.

“Your Mother was here”, you lowered your gaze. Your legs started bouncing.

“She was”.

“This is a condition”.

“It is”.

“Heir”.

“Not more and not less”.

“What will we do?”, you asked, raising your eyebrows. As you looked for Loki’s eyes to be wet, to have any emotion of regret, they weren’t. He was hiding them very well.

“We will stay here. No more trials. No more boring royal things for you to learn”.

“This can’t be possible”, you frowned in concern. “Loki, this is the thing you most want. You can’t give it up for this”.

“For what? For being with the love of my life? I certainly can and will”, he smiled. It was a sad smile, you noticed. His eyes couldn’t hide what his lips tried to. He noticed you didn’t believe him. “We’ve talked about this over and over. I will bargain more. But as for now, I can see the most likely option will be this one. I propose we get comfortable. You once talked about a house by the mountains and cats, right?”.

“Don’t change the topic, mister”, you frowned and he laughed. You hugged him tightly, and murmured in his ear “are you sure you want this?”.

“So, so sure, my little darling”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 , @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @enderslove)

[cherienymphe]

xoxo (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, roofie use, Stark!Peter, snobby rich people, Peter’s an ass (I believe @opheliadawnwalker3 coined the term “baby Ransom”)

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: Peter Stark, the adopted son of the playboy philanthropist Tony Stark, has been a pain in your ass for years. Ever the womanizer, you always brushed off his flirtatious behavior as part of his personality, unaware of just how deeply his feelings ran.

You leaned against the bar with a grimace, nursing the strong drink in your hand as the annoying sound of high-pitched laughs and fake compliments drifted up from downstairs, swirling around you. You glanced over your shoulder to look down at the rest of the guests before rolling your eyes at this soiree that was nothing more than a pissing contest for the rich and snooty.

You truly hated being the daughter of a wealthy CEO more often than not. You’d grown up with the kind of lifestyle that more than half the world would never taste, ignorant to not only reality, but the true inner workings of the business that funded your lifestyle. It wasn’t until your junior year of high school when the rug was ripped out from underneath you, exposing the dark truth.

Now, you detested everything about this lifestyle. From the preferential treatment to the fancy parties, you hated everything that came with it. Despite the fact that you were an adult now, your father still had an iron grip on you no matter how much you pretended he didn’t. It was why instead of going on a humanitarian trip with some friends from college for winter break, you were back in the big apple, the upper east side to be exact, surrounded by a bunch of brownnosers.

“Another please,” you murmured, setting your empty glass down onto the bar.

The bartender was quick in giving you a refill, but before the glass met your lips, a finger slid in between to gently push it away. A sigh escaped you before you even turned your head, the familiar smell of his cologne reaching your nose.

“You’re always off by yourself at these little gatherings…”

You turned towards the voice, eyes meeting his dark ones as a playful smirk danced along his pink lips. His brown hair was neatly pushed away from his face, suit fitting him to perfection. He looked so put together and very much like a gentleman. Too bad that you knew better.

“Someone like me might take it as an invitation to approach you.”

You fully turned in your seat, leaning your elbow on the bar to gaze at him, unimpressed, cheek resting on your hand. He too was leaning on the bar, signaling for the bartender to get him a drink, already sliding into the seat in front of you. You could’ve protested, but he wouldn’t listen anyway.

Peter Stark was the bane of your existence. Adopted by the great Tony Stark when he was just a toddler, a big ordeal that made the papers apparently, the dark-haired male grew up in the same environment you did. The same circles. You went to the best schools together, often times having the same batch of friends. He always had the teachers and just about every other adult fooled, but everyone else knew better.

Peter’s charm was notorious. Those soft brown eyes and boyish good looks could have any girl swooning at his feet. He was so good that most girls didn’t even mind being one of the many. As long as they were a number, they didn’t care. Let them tell it, he had a way of making every single one of them feel special. You probably would’ve been one of them had you not seen his behavior firsthand all those years ago. How he’d tell one girl one thing and say something completely different to the next.

Peter’s constant flirtations with you and your absolute refusal to ever even entertain him had made your relationship…interesting. Could you even call yourselves friends? He flirted with you, and you rolled your eyes at his antics. That was the gist of it. His behavior had only gotten worse once you’d denounced this lifestyle the minute you left for college, a non-Ivy League college at that.

You remembered the surprise you felt that Peter had seemed to be genuinely upset with the 180 you’d done with your lifestyle. You had rolled your eyes as he’d called you all sorts of ‘wannabe’ this and ‘wannabe’ that, biting your tongue as he insulted your ‘low rate school’. Even now, after a little over 2 years, he still sneered whenever he brought up your new life.

“Color me shocked you even showed up today. Last I heard you were going to build houses for children,” he said, nursing his drink.

You smirked at him, fighting back a laugh.

“Last you heard? Keeping tabs on me, Stark?”

He returned your smirk, dark eyes trailing over you, gaze lingering on whatever skin your short dress exposed. You weren’t fazed by his conspicuous onceover, more than used to it.

“Of course. I have to make sure my best girl stays out of trouble,” he told you, leaning in.

You scoffed, looking away from him as you downed your drink.

“Your best girl,” you dryly repeated, standing. “Yeah, okay.”

Peter hurried to stand with you, whistling at the bartender as you walked away. It wasn’t long before you felt his arm being thrown over your shoulder as he pulled you against him. He waved an expensive bottle of champagne in your face as he walked down the hall with you.

“You may have switched up and hate me now-.”

“I’ve always hated you,” you deadpanned.

“…but you can’t deny that I know how to throw a party within a party,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “Ned and I are having a little get together in the penthouse suite.”

He wasn’t wrong, and you sighed as you thought about how angry you’d been to be forced back home for the break instead of doing what you wanted to do. You could honestly use the distraction, at least for a little while until you had to be in your father’s presence again. You sighed again, and by the grin on Peter’s lips, you knew that he knew that he had you.

“Fine. Lead the way,” you said with a flourish.

His grin widened, and he pulled you closer as he took you to the elevator. You leaned against the mirrored wall once inside, staring at your reflection with a frown.

“You shouldn’t frown so much,” he said, pressing the button. “It’ll give you premature wrinkles.”

“Why are you so concerned with how I age?”

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, approaching you as he swung the bottle of champagne in his hand.

“I want you to age as gracefully as me when we get married,” he teased, pressing his free hand onto the wall beside your head.

You laughed, shaking your head.

“I’d never marry you, and you… Well, you’d never get married,” you said with a shrug, shaking your head.

His grin dimmed a bit as his eyes met yours.

“I’d marry you,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, head leaning back against the wall as he moved closer, pressing his forearm to the wall, face suddenly serious as he eyed you. It was his turn to sigh now, the sound heavy and drawn out.

“When…are you and I finally going to get together?” he slowly asked, voice low in the quiet elevator.

Your eyes widened just a tad, nose brushing his as he leaned in. Peter hadn’t asked you that for some time now. It was a recurring question of his that you always brushed off, and even though this time was no different, something in his voice made you blink. There was a yearning that had never been there before. Something new lingering in his eyes.

You laid your hand on his chest, pushing him away, and he let you.

“Seriously, Peter? You know the answer to that question,” you said.

He huffed, his grin returning as he shook your rejection off.

“You know I always have to ask…just in case you change your mind,” he replied, quickly scanning your frame.

The elevator dinged, and the doors parted behind him, the low hum of a small party reaching your ears.

“I’m never going to change my mind.”

Without a second glance, you brushed past him to exit the elevator.

“You need to start getting serious about your future, Y/N.”

You stared out of the tinted window, watching the city fly by as your father’s car weaved in and out of traffic. He was giving you yet another lecture on what he thought you should be doing with your future. After all, it wasn’t like you had already decided on a major and knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life, so you could understand his- oh. Wait… You had!

“Dad,” you sighed. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Humanities isn’t a real major,” he argued for the umpteenth time, tone laced with contempt.

You cut in before he could continue.

“First of all, it is. Second of all, it’s my minor-.”

“Oh, of course. How silly of me to forget that- what is it? International relations? That’s the major, right?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head.

“You know, I’ll never understand you kids. So fickle with your goals-.”

“Dad, I’ve had the same plan since before I even went to college. You can’t call it fickle just because at 17 I told you I didn’t want to follow in your footsteps. I’ve known what I wanted since then. Its literally the opposite of fickle,” you huffed.

You heard him sigh.

“I don’t understand what happened here, Y/N. I really don’t. Ever since you were little, you wanted to follow in my footsteps-.”

“…and now I don’t. Things happen,” you told him. “I don’t want anything to do with this lifestyle.”

You’d told him this a hundred times. You were so tired of having the same discussion, and you knew that he was too.

“Why can’t you be more like Peter?”

You frowned, finally looking over at him. This was a new tactic. The older man had his eyes focused on the paper as he continued to speak.

“He’s following behind Tony swimmingly, a real successor in the making,” he praised.

You fought the urge to groan and sink down in your seat like a child. Never in your wildest dreams did you think your father would be comparing you to Peter Stark of all people.

“You’re comparing me to Peter now?” you scoffed.

The paper ruffled as he turned it, humming.

“I’m just noting that the two of you came up together, but you somehow deviated so far off track.”

“Well, since you love Peter so much, just pass the company onto him when the time comes. God knows he’ll appreciate it way more than I will,” you grumbled.

Your father hummed at that.

“I actually have hopes that, in some way, the company will be his one day,” he replied.

Your brows furrowed, confusion filling you as you fought to understand what he meant. Your father’s eyes finally met yours, a serious look on his face.

“Peter’s exactly the kind of man you should be considering when you finally get ready to get married.”

Shock poured over you like a bucket of ice water, his words having been the last thing you expected to hear. Marriage? Peter? You blinked a few times, fighting to clear your head enough to articulate what you were thinking.

“You…you can’t be serious…?”

He fixed you with a stern look.

“As a heart attack. What is there to oppose? Peter is young and handsome and well brought up. He’ll be taking over after Tony one day, and you really can’t do much better than that. Unless you’re aiming to be the next Meghan Markle, but no offense sweetheart, you don’t strike me as the type,” he elaborated.

You pressed your hand to your forehead as your mind spun.

“I’m not telling you to marry him or anything. I’d never go so far to participate in something as archaic as an arranged marriage. I’m just telling you to consider it. He’s a good match for you, and I’d like you to be open to it…”

You couldn’t begin to believe how sharply this morning had turned.

“It’s why you’ll be seeing a lot more of him over the break. Just keep it in mind when we meet with them,” he said.

He must have noted the confusion on your face because he continued.

“We’re meeting them for brunch. Tony wants to run his latest idea by me, and we figured it would give you and Peter more time to catch up,” he explained.

The car had finally stopped just as he finished, and you didn’t have time to process anything before you were being ushered out of the car. The brisk air whipped around you as you followed your father into the fancy restaurant.

Your father wanted you to marry Peter? The idea was so absurd that you actually considered the possibility that your father was playing a joke on you. You felt like you were having an out of body experience as you and your father sat down, you across from Peter. As always, he looked absolutely tickled to see you, while you simply returned his grin with a withering stare.

Brunch was a taxing affair. Tony Stark greeted you as politely as he always did before he and your father got right down to business. That left you and Peter with no one but each other to look at. You did your best to ignore the annoying brunette sitting across from you, barely speaking with him no matter how many times he tried to engage you in conversation.

You supposed that your behavior towards Peter was a bit unfair. After all, it wasn’t his fault that your father wanted you to marry him. Although, as you thought back to your conversation in the elevator the other day, you had to wonder if he knew, or at the very least, had some idea. And that was exactly what you asked him once you were alone.

Your father and Tony had gone back to Tony’s office in a hurry to remedy some oversight that had been missed. You’d been left with your father’s car and driver, and you eyed Peter, waiting for his answer, as you made your way outside.

“Not really, no.”

You slid into the backseat, thanking the driver before scooting as far away from Peter as possible as he joined you.

“Not really or no? Those are two different answers,” you told him.

A smirk danced along his lips as he leaned his head back, turning it ever so slightly to gaze at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I had an idea. The great Mr. Y/L/N never came outright and said it, but little things he’d say here and there started to add up,” he explained with a chuckle.

He apparently found this funny while you did not. You crossed your arms over your chest, anger bubbling within you at the thought of your father playing matchmaker behind your back. Peter reached for your hand, attempting to pull it away from your chest, but you jerked it away as soon as his fingers brushed yours. He sucked his teeth.

“Come on. Would marrying me really be so bad?”

You turned to fully face him, not a hint of humor on your face.

“Yes,” you answered, voice steady with conviction.

He simply rolled his eyes, lips twitching, and you shook your head with a scoff.

“Is your father in on this too? God, I bet Tony Stark is just eating this up,” you complained.

The tone of Peter’s chuckle gave you pause, and you eyed him as he grinned at you.

“Quite the opposite actually…”

You frowned, and God help you, because you found yourself…offended.

“He thinks I’m not good enough for you or something?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

You didn’t want to marry Peter, but you knew that you were more than good enough for a guy like him. The truth was that Peter wasn’t good enough for you. He shook his head, picking at a piece of lint on your shoulder as he hummed.

“No actually. In fact, he’d dare say that you are out of my league, and I’d be forced to agree,” he told you with a shrug. “He thinks you’re too much of a ‘wild card’.”

Now it was your turn to chuckle, nodding as you understood what that meant.

“I see. So he wants you to marry a meek and submissive little thing who will do everything you say and conform to the Stark image. Got it,” you replied with a smirk.

He returned it, finger trailing along your collarbone now as he eyed you.

“He thinks that you march to the beat of your own drum…and you do…,” he said, smirk growing as his gaze met yours. “…but I think I can handle you just fine.”

You slapped his hand away, disgust filling you just as the car stopped.

“We’re at your place. Get out,” you sneered, looking away from him.

“Care to join me? No one’s home…we’ll have the whole place to ourselves…”

You opted for ignoring him and the way his voice lowered, the hidden meaning in his question loud and clear. When some time passed, he finally sighed, and you heard the car door open. When it didn’t close, you turned to see Peter standing outside, one hand pressed onto the top of the car door while the other rested on the hood of the car as he leaned down.

A dark strand fell out of place and brushed along his forehead, dark eyes somehow darker as he trailed them over your tense form. His smirk slowly fell, and you blinked at the less than humorous expression on his face. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d seen Peter so serious.

“You really shouldn’t try so hard to show your dislike for me…”

You frowned at him, and the corner of his mouth curved upwards just a tad.

“…someone might think you’re playing hard to get.”

Before you could process that, he’d closed the door. He didn’t go inside right away, instead opting for standing on the curb to watch your father’s car drive away.

When your father said that you’d be seeing a lot more of Peter over the break, you underestimated just how determined the old man was to get you and the Stark heir together. Every innocent gathering turned into a run-in with Tony and his wife, Pepper, and Peter. Whether it was brunch or dinner or a shopping trip. Hell, even an innocent day at the park had you coming face to face with who you now liked to refer to as ‘the pain in your ass’.

Had you known that this is what your winter break would entail, you would have fought tooth and nail with your father on it. You felt like this was such a waste of time, one big joke that you’d walked into and you were the punchline. You had no idea how much worse it could get.

You were currently in the hallway of the home that belonged to none other than the Starks. You were killing time by fleetingly looking at the artwork that was hung up on the dark walls, a half empty glass of some brown liquor in your hand. You could hear the voices of Tony, Pepper, and your father drifting to you from the lounge, and you rolled your eyes.

When your father had told you that you’d be joining them for dinner, you thought it’d be in their apartment in the city. Some place that you could easily escape if need be. You never would have agreed if you’d known you’d be in upstate New York hours later, conversing with them in one of their many secluded vacation houses. Dinner was long over, and you had no desire to be privy to anymore of their business talk. Peter had scurried off to only God knows where, and you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Perhaps you should have.

Your mood soured even further as you felt an arm slide over your shoulders to curl around your neck, pulling you back into a firm chest. Peter hummed, and you sighed. The story of your lives.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he wondered, gesturing to the painting. “I picked it out. I thought it would brighten the place up a bit.”

You threw his arm off of you, and he chuckled.

“Don’t look so glum, Y/N. The grownups are knee deep into stock market talk, which means they won’t even think about us for another hour at the least…”

You looked to the ceiling as he slipped an arm around your waist, praying for some higher power to strike you down. Or him. You’d be happy either way.

“Surely we can find some way to keep ourselves occupied,” he murmured.

You turned to face him and turned your head again just in time for his lips to brush the skin of your cheek. You pushed yourself away from him with a frown, backing up until your back rested against the opposite wall.

“Whatever happened to MJ?” you suddenly asked him, a faint smile on your lips as you took a sip of your drink.

Peter smirked, leaning against the other wall as he stared you down, raising an eyebrow at you, dark suit hugging him nicely.

“Keeping tabs on me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hardly,” you snorted. “My father likes to bring up you and your personal life every chance he gets. Of course, now I know why. I was shocked to find out that you had a girl in your life who stuck around for more than two months.”

“She was too much like you,” he dismissively said. “She wanted to travel and see the world and make a difference. There’s only room for one girl like that in my life. Anything more, and things would start to get a little…dull.”

You hummed, pushing away from the wall to walk past him. Peter followed, and your mind spun.

“What exactly are you going to do when I finally meet a nice guy to get serious with? Surely, this behavior can’t go on forever, Peter,” you wondered.

He grabbed your elbow and gently pushed you into the wall. His other hand was beside your head, dark eyes narrowed and inquiring. You sharply inhaled, unintentionally breathing in the scent of him, and you blinked.

“What nice guy could you possibly meet at that sad excuse of a school you call-?”

“I don’t know how to break it to you that an Ivy League education isn’t exactly the picture of intelligence you think it is,” you sneered at him.

His own face grew taut as he glared at you, tilting his head to the side.

“Is that why you turned down your acceptance to Princeton? To prove some silly point?”

“For your information, Peter, I turned down my acceptance because I learned that the main reason I got in was because of my father.”

“So what? What is the point of our parents working their asses off for years if not to give us the opportunities they didn’t have growing up? When are you going to drop this holier-than-thou wannabe Mother Teresa act?”

“It’s not an act,” you spat, shoving him away from you. “This world? This way of life and everything that comes with it? I hate it. I despise everything about it. Its sickening that we live like we do while people down the street struggle to keep a roof over their heads. What is it to you, anyway?”

Peter ran his hand through his hair, huffing as he stared you down.

“You and me?” he started, gesturing between the two of you, his other hand on his hip. “We could’ve been unstoppable together. We were supposed to go to Princeton together. We were supposed to leave our mark on that campus together, create a legacy, and make a name for ourselves on our own, and instead I’m doing that by myself while you go off galivanting down south-.”

“Is that what this is about?” you demanded, incredulity filling your voice. “…some fantasy in your mind that we’d be some power couple who’d go on to take over after our fathers and rule the upper east side? Seriously? That’s a new one, even for you.”

Peter’s jaw clenched as he glared at you, nostrils flaring as he ran his eyes over you with the nastiest look you’d ever seen on his boyish face.

“You can run all you like…reinvent yourself all you want…”

His voice lowered as he approached you, and you stood your ground, glowering at him.

“…but you will never escape this life,” he threw at you, and you flinched at his harsh tone.

“That may be true…but I can still try,” you whispered.

The corner of his lips lifted into a mocking smirk.

“Try all you want. Hell, jump into a relationship with the next guy you have some anthropology project with for all I care. We both know that the only guy to give you the life you deserve…to give you what you need…”

He reached to fix a stray hair that had come out of place, smirk smug and eyes smugger.

“…is a guy like me.”

You stumbled away from him with a frown, arms folded over your chest.

“Screw you, Peter.”

You turned away from him to go find your father.

Peter had always been an annoying thorn in your side, but his behavior tonight had reached new heights. It amazed you, really, how far he was willing to go just to finally get you into bed. He had never had any problem being an asshole, but there was a shift in him tonight. His tone was harsher, words meaner, eyes just a tad bit icier than normal. In fact, it almost seemed like it wasn’t his usual cruel teasing.

When you finally neared the lounge, you frowned at the words that reached you.

“She’ll probably be a bit bitter about it at first, but I’m sure Y/N will grow to love it. This will be an amazing opportunity for her.”

You recognized your father’s voice, and you slowed just before finally entering, listening in.

“I was surprised to hear that she’s transferring, which is why I had never initially considered her for the internship. I was under the impression that she wouldn’t be here to do it.”

Your frown deepened at Tony Stark’s words, a sinking feeling in your gut, and although you wanted to hear more, something in you prevented you from staying still and doing so. You stepped into the lounge, greeting them all with a smile before resting your gaze on your father.

“I hate to cut the evening short, but I’m feeling a bit ill,” you lied.

Perhaps it wasn’t a complete lie. Peter’s harsh words didn’t exactly leave you feeling the best, but your father believed you anyway. The two of you said your goodbyes to the Starks, even Peter who had slithered his way into the foyer eventually. He’d sent you off with that stupid smirk on his face, and it took everything in you to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

The ride home was quiet. Your mind was too stuck on the snippet of conversation that you’d heard. You knew that it was about you, that much you had heard, but the talk about internships and transferring had you confused. Again, there was that sinking feeling in your gut, and it wouldn’t go away. You wanted to bring it up to your father, but he’d spent the entire next day in the office.

Your paranoia got the best of you though, and the next evening, you found yourself in his study, mind going a mile a minute as you poured over the papers you found. Shock coursed through you at every reveal, hands shaking and heart sinking in disbelief. That was how your father found you that night, perched in his desk chair, tearful eyes glaring up at him as he walked through the door. He sighed as soon as his eyes landed on the papers scattered all over his desk.

“Tell me this isn’t true,” you quietly pleaded.

You knew that it had to be, but you needed to hear him say it.

“You’ll be going to Princeton for your senior year. All of the paper work has been done and whatever needs to be transferred has been transferred,” he breathed, stepping into the room.

You shook your head in disbelief, tears spilling over. You were shocked to find yourself…shocked. You knew that your father didn’t approve of your new lifestyle and your plans for your future. You knew that it ran deep, and yet it had never occurred to you that he’d do something about it. You had foolishly thought that he’d let you make your own decisions.

This was the main reason you hated this world you were born into. The things that people could buy, could do, if they had enough money to do so scared you. It shouldn’t be allowed.

“…and the internship?”

You didn’t even care that you had revealed yourself to be eavesdropping last night. Your father stepped further into his study.

“You’ll be interning with Stark Industries immediately after graduation…”

You were out of his chair and stomping out of his office before he could even finish. He didn’t even call for you to come back, and why would he? His word was law. You both knew that this was going to happen, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

The night air was cold, and you wished you’d grabbed a thicker coat before stepping outside. After all, the only thing you had on underneath was a flimsy dress. You’d had plans to meet up with some old friends from high school tonight after your talk with your father, but you had never imagined that the talk would reveal this.

A lot of people were out in the city. It was a Friday night, after all. There was some light snow falling, but you could hardly even see it because the tears had finally spilled over. You couldn’t remember a time where you were so angry that you’d cried. You were grateful to be in New York of all places, right now, because a girl crying on the sidewalk was the most normal thing someone would probably see.

You crossed the street to a less crowded sidewalk, still trying to wrap your head around what your father had done, when a sleek black limo slowed beside you. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it had the window not rolled down to reveal none other than Peter.

“Are you drunk?” was the first thing he asked you.

Fed up with this night and having no patience for Peter Stark and all of his glory, you sneered at him.

“No,” you snapped.

You huffed when the limo rolled slowly along the street in time with your steps. Peter called to you, but you ignored him. What was he even doing out, right now? It was a Friday night. Shouldn’t he be at someone’s party participating in at least 2 illegal activities?

You sped up when you heard his door slam shut, but you weren’t quick enough. His firm hands grabbed you and turned you to face him, shaking you just a little as he ran his eyes over you, gaze lingering on your tearful one.

“Hey…”

“Go away, Peter,” you said, fighting to get out of his grip.

His hold tightened, and he stepped closer.

“It’s late. Why are you out here on the street like this? What happened?”

You snatched one arm out of his hold and shoved yourself away from him.

“Did you know?”

His brows furrowed, frowning slightly at your question. His cheeks were red from the cold, giving him a cherubic aura that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Stark. Did you know that my father was getting me transferred to Princeton behind my back? That I’m supposed to be interning with your father as soon as I graduate?”

You registered the shock on his face, and he slowly shook his head, thrown by what you’d told him.

“No,” he softly said.

You crossed your arms over your chest, more tears falling.

“If I had known…I would’ve told you, Y/N.”

“Would you?” you scoffed.

His face hardened at your insinuation, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, I would have. Look, I may hate this 180 that you’ve done with your life just as much as your father, but even I know that you’re going to do what you want anyway. You always have.”

He whispered the last part, and your gaze reluctantly met his. He pursed his lips, running his eyes over you as he reached for you.

“Where are you headed?” he wondered.

It hit you that you hadn’t really had a destination in mind. Your eyes widened, and you were sure that the panic and confusion was written all over your face. You shrugged, a few tears escaping.

“I…I don’t know,” you pathetically answered.

Peter softly sighed, pulling you towards the limo.

“Well, I was on my way to a party-.”

He cut himself off as you started to shake your head. You didn’t know where you wanted to go, but you knew that a party was not it. He pulled on your jacket, and you stumbled towards him in your heels.

“Hey,” he softly said when your eyes started to stray, and you looked at him. “I’ve got a couple of bottles of champagne in the limo, a full tank of gas, and a driver who’s getting paid by the minute. I��ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

You glanced away, thinking it over. You couldn’t stomach the thought of being near your father right now, and although Peter had shaken you last night, in the end, it was just him being his usual self. Your uneasiness from his words last night you wrote off to sensitivity and overthinking. You suddenly let out a humorless chuckle.

“You promise to get me really, really drunk?” you teased.

You were joking, but you honestly didn’t want to even remember your conversation with your father right now. That familiar smirk of his graced his lips as he threw an arm over your shoulder, guiding you towards the car.

“I promise to get you anything you want,” he purred.

The inside was warm, and you had almost forgotten how roomy limos could be. The L-shaped seating could easily fit 4 more people. True to Peter’s words, there was indeed two bottles of champagne on ice, and he reached for one as soon as the vehicle continued down the dark street.

You leaned your head against the window as he popped it open, getting you a glass. You felt defeated, and you were sure your face showed it as you took the offered drink from him.

“So what are you gonna do?”

You shook your head at Peter’s question.

“What can I do, Peter?” you quietly wondered with a shrug. “I mean… If my father is willing to go this far to get me where he wants me to be…? What’s stopping him from doing so again and again and again?”

Peter leaned back in his seat, eyeing you as you sipped on the bubbly alcohol.

“I’ll never be free of him,” you said, more to yourself than Peter. “God, he really is going to get everything he wants. Looks like I’ll be seeing you in 3 years at our engagement party, after all.”

Peter slid along the seat to get closer to you, rolling his eyes.

“Come on,” he dragged out. “Would marrying me really be so bad?”

You almost choked on your drink, and you incredulously eyed him.

“We’ve been over this before, and the answer is yes. That’s if we can even get you to walk down the aisle.”

Peter sighed, sitting his drink down.

“I would marry you,” he argued, looking at you.

“Come on, Peter. You’re just saying that!”

You took another sip, thankful for the liquid courage.

“It’s all a game to you. It always has been. The minute you finally get with me, it’ll be over. Hell…,” you said, thinking. “…maybe I should sleep with you so you’ll finally leave me alone.”

Peter laughed, resting his arm behind you on the back of the seat.

“If I had you, I’d never leave you alone,” he replied, voice soft.

“Yeah,” you barked a laugh. “Okay…”

“I’m serious,” he said, tone matching his words, and you fought to hold his intense gaze. “When are we finally going to get together?”

You glanced away.

“You’ve asked me this probably a hundred times, and the answer is always the same,” you murmured.

“When are we finally going to stop playing this game?”

Your eyes met his again, brows furrowed.

“I wasn’t aware that we were playing a game-.”

“I want you,” he whispered so quietly that you weren’t sure you heard him right. “You know that, Y/N. I’ve always wanted you.”

There was a frown on his face, and you swallowed.

“You want everyone,” you quietly replied, suddenly feeling very odd.

You scooted away from him just a tad, but he followed.

“When I have you, Y/N, I won’t treat you like those other girls,” he told you.

“Ha! How reassuring,” you sarcastically replied.

His hand rested on your arm, and you squirmed, head feeling a bit light.

“I’m serious,” he murmured, hand trailing upwards to brush along your shoulder before resting on your neck. “You’re my best girl…”

You blinked at him with a frown, and he tilted his head at you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Why would I treat my best girl like the rest?”

You shook your head, moving away from him some more.

“Maybe…maybe I should just go home after all. I’m not feeling so good, right now,” you told him, alarmed at how slurred your words were.

You watched as Peter reached to take another sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” he calmly said, taking your drink from your trembling fingers and setting it aside. “That would probably be the Rohypnol.”

You slowly blinked at him, trying to clear the fuzz from your head as you processed his words. Did he just say…Rohypnol? As in…?

“Roofie is the common term, also known as the date-rape drug.”

Your mouth felt dry, and you felt like you weren’t sliding away from him fast enough.

“Peter, this…this is a joke, right? You’re kidding…?”

He snorted, and even without his confirmation, you knew that he wasn’t kidding. Your head had been spinning for minutes now.

“Come on, Y/N. When have you ever known me to be a huge comedian?”

You fell against the door as you tried the handle, but it was locked, and that was when you really started to panic.

“Y/N.”

You ignored Peter as he called your name, opting instead for hitting against the partition. You heard Peter heave a sigh from behind you before his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you back. Your movements were sluggish and futile, but you fought against him anyway. He pulled you down onto his lap as he leaned back into the seat.

“Peter…”

Your words died in your throat as his hands clasped around the back of your neck, pulling you down until his lips met yours. The kiss was hungry, Peter a man starved as he moaned into your mouth. He was panting when he pulled away, chest heaving before he kissed you again.

Your hands were pressed against his chest, trying in vain to push yourself away from him. You gasped against his lips, heart stuttering when he flipped you, your frame now between his and the seat. He settled against you easily, fitting perfectly in between your legs as his fingers danced over you.

The buttons of your coat flew as he yanked it open, and you shivered. Peter paid no mind, running his hands over your exposed skin before sliding them under your dress. You felt like you were barely hanging onto consciousness, not even realizing when Peter had started to drag your underwear down your legs until they were already to your ankles.

You feebly kicked against him, but he simply grabbed your legs, spreading them to settle in between them once more. You could feel him hot and hard through his pants, and more tears kissed your eyes. How on earth had you missed this? You cursed yourself for not taking his behavior more seriously. For not listening to yourself last night.

Confident that you could not fight him off, one of his hands worked between your legs while the other worked to release himself. He was right to be confident, because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your arms to work right. You felt like you were underwater, weighed down by sand.

“Peter,” you quietly pleaded again, and he shushed you.

You squirmed beneath him as he pushed his fingers in and out of you, hating how easy it was because of how wet you were. He pressed his mouth against yours, forcing his tongue past your lips, and you trembled as you felt him line himself up with your entrance.

A high-pitched yelp left you as he filled you with one thrust. The moan that climbed out of his throat was low and long, and he cursed as you clenched around him. Your hand pressed against the back of the seat as he pulled back before snapping his hips into you again.

“You feel so good,” he groaned into your mouth.

One arm locked around your waist as he pulled you both into a sitting position, his throbbing cock still inside of you as he held you onto his lap. You pushed against him, but your arms buckled when he lifted his hips up into you.

You whimpered, falling against him, and both of his hands fell to grip your waist, tightly holding you as he fucked you. Your body couldn’t support itself, and you sagged against him, forehead pressing against his as your eyelashes fluttered. Your jacket was barely hanging onto you, and with one hand, he pulled it all the way off. He gripped the bottom of your sequined dress before bunching it around your hips.

You tried to push yourself up, push yourself off of him, but not only was his hold firm, your body was too under the influence of the drug he’d given you. You pathetically whimpered as you fell against him again, a sob caught in your chest. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck, the strap of your dress falling, and you shuddered.

He pulled you into another kiss, the taste of your salty tears seeping into your mouth. Your head was light, mind spinning with the pleasure being forced onto you. You pressed your hand against the seat, attempting to push yourself away again when Peter spun you both, your back connecting with the seat as he laid you down, his clothed hips slapping against yours. He moaned into your mouth as you fluttered around him, and with a start, you realized that despite your unwillingness, an orgasm was creeping up on you.

Both of his hands rested on your cheeks as he kissed you again and again. His dark hair was falling into his forehead, sweat coating the strands, and your skin fared no better. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your stomach clenching, shamed and disgust coursing through you.

“Look at me,” Peter quietly demanded.

You shook your head but yelped when one of his hands reached to pinch your nipple through your dress. You peeled your eyes open, tears blurring your vision, but your gaze met his all the same.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured just as you clenched around him with a choked moan.

Your climax triggered his own, and he pushed into you a few more times before falling against you with a groan. You were both sweating and panting, and you felt the flames of sleep licking at the corners of your vision.

There was so much that you wanted to say to Peter, to scream at him, but you couldn’t form the words. You could only lay there as he kissed you again before pulling out of you, leaning back against the seat as he fixed himself. Sleep was just in your grasp, but you were scared to close your eyes. Scared of the man you thought you knew.

He spread his arm over the back of the seat, the other pulling your dress down, that annoying playful smirk dancing along his lips.

“I think a winter wedding would look absolutely beautiful.”

~

tags: @bamposworld @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @coconutqueen21 @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @hurricanerin​

[naoa-ao3]

Just A Man

Rogue was on a mission. That was why she was in New Orleans. She didn't like it though. Not that she had anything against the city it was just that on every corner she stopped she could feel Remy. He was there in the crowd, up on a balcony, sitting in a restaurant. He was everywhere.

Everywhere in a city that had been so much a part of him.

Of course she had no real idea if he was there. He could be half way around the world for all she knew.

She remembered all of the times the X-Men had visited New Orleans. So many times they had gotten caught up in his guild business. And there it was. The reason they weren't together. His life was one one problem after another and so many of them he brought on himself. She sat down at a cafe to eat. It was hot and all of the indoor tables were taken. She had to eat on the street. She stirred her drink slowly, feeling the weight of so many memories and so much love. There where ghosts all around and then one materialized in front of her. A blond woman, beautiful and tall. She emerged from the crowed and came and took a seat across from Rogue.

Belladonna Bourdreaux.

"It's been a long time." She said. She had the same accent as Remy. She came from the same world. Rogue had once felt threatened by this woman. Now they were on equal ground.

"You here to fight?" Rogue asked coolly.

Belladonna shook her head. She looked a little older than the last time they had seen each other. Maybe life had caught up to her. "What do we have to fight about?" She asked. "Neither of us have him and you ain't here to mess with de Guilds." She ordered lunch.

"What're you here for then?"

Belladonna shrugged. "I heard you and Remy broke up a while back. Never did know why."

Rogue felt a little offended. "And what makes you think you got any right to know?"

Belladonna gave her a coldly sympathetic look. A look that said: Because I've been there already. "He flirt too much or did he kill your brother too? Leave you when you needed him?"

Rogue frowned. "I left him. He didn't do much of anything." This wasn't entirely true but it wasn't why she'd left him. Going back to Sinister. . . the deal with Apocalypse. She hadn't ended it because of that although they hadn't won him any favors.

Belladonna looked surprised. "I loved him for a real long time." She said. "But he ain't good. Not for himself or anyone else." Rogue was quiet. "He doesn't mean to be. I know he doesn't. He's not a bad person. . . he's just careless and he makes bad choices. One after another and he thinks they're his alone to make but they effect other people and then when someone gets hurt he sits there wondering how the hell it happened."

Rogue was quiet. It was true. Remy always made decisions with the best of intentions. Sinister, Apocalypse, Sinister again but they always ended badly and she was right even more because people did get hurt. Innocent people. The morlocks, Belladonna, Rogue herself. People fell in love with him and that never ended well. She had even heard that Wolverine had kicked him out of the X-Men.

She was sure Remy deserved it. She had heard he had tried to rob Tony Stark. He knew mutant human relations were constantly at risk and he knew that he was a high profile mutant. He never cared about that. She thought he had always been uncaring about how mutants were perceived. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe he did care but he sure never acted like it.

Belladonna watched her face. "You ain't happy knowin' I'm right." She said.

Rogue looked down at her plate. "You come here so we could shit talk him?"

She shrugged. "I just was wonderin' why you two split. I thought maybe he'd found something better with you." She looked at Rogue seriously. "I hated you. You know that? I hated you from the bottom of my heart. Even while I was hating him."

"I know you did."

There was a bitter laugh. "We had a time though, didn't we? You X-Men. . . my Assassins. I'm sorry you got dragged into it."

Rogue was surprised. "You don' hate me any more?"

"Part of me always will. Just like part of me will always love him. You think you'll ever fall in love again?"

Rogue was thrown by the question. She thought maybe Belladonna had been searching for someone to talk to. "I don't know."

"I gave up love. I'm the leader of the Assassins Guild. That is my marriage." She laughed a short dark laugh. "My second love." She looked down for a moment. "But loving him was something, wasn't it?" Her voice turned sentimental.

Rogue thought about all of the times she had known in her heart that she loved Remy and she understood. "Yeah." It hurt to think about.

"You still love him, don't you?"

She didn't respond. She didn't have to and she knew it.

Belladonna smiled. "Lovin' him was like having the whole world in your heart. Like every day was golden and perfect and even if it wasn't. . . he was. And the sex. . . ain't nothin like it in the world." A shiver went down Rogue's back at the mention just as her heart hurt at the mention of love. "Gettin a man who's good at sex. . . well a man you don't have to teach to be good at it. . . that doesn't happen too often." She paused. "My God, he almost seems perfect. Doesn't he? Just until you been around him for long enough. Then you start to see that it's not all sunshine and charm. Start to see he's just a man. Not the worst. . . they never are but him. . . he makes you think he's more and then you find out he isn't. You find out he's just a man and it breaks your heart and it's almost more than you can take. He didn't have to fight my brother. . . that was two boys butting heads and it ended the way it ended. My brother was a fool and Remy was a fool for fighting him. For fighting him and expecting a different ending. Then he left me and after that it seemed like he just kept on leavin' me. My heart broke every time 'cause that sweet kid I loved so much was just a man after all. Same faults as any of the others."

"He's done a lot of bad things. I know he didn't mean to do most of them. . ." Rogue said, speaking at last.

"But he did them just the same, didn't he?"

"Yeah and then he goes and tried to find a short cut to redemption and blows it all to hell all over again."

Belladonna nodded. "He's just a boy. You know they always are. Men. They're always boys underneath. They grow up but just the same part of 'em is still the kid they were. Remy had to grow up fast he and I both did. Maybe you did too, I don't know. I reckon so. I reckon we all got short childhoods and none of them were exactly what they should have been. But it doesn't excuse anything."

Rogue nodded again. "I go to sleep and I still love him. Does that make me weak?"

"No child. I don't think so. It makes you human. There are nights I still love him. Nights my heart breaks cause he's not there in bed next to me. Cause he's not touching me. Nights I imagine I can feel his hand on my arm. On my cheek. I think there always will be. I think when you love someone like him you love them so totally that it can't ever leave you."

Rogue felt her heart break some more because she knew just what Belladonna as talking about. Hell, she could touch people now and all she wanted some nights was to touch him.

"Maybe it's selfish of me but I hope some day you two work through your bull shit because I think you two were born to be together. I think you two love each other the way I once thought he and I loved each other."

"After everything you've said?"

"Oh shoot, it's like I said: he's not a bad man. He's just trying to be good and he's not good at it. He needs someone to show him how. It's petulant and pathetic but it's what he needs. He always gets himself into trouble. Sleeps with the wrong woman. . . makes the wrong guy mad. . . trusts the wrong person. He brings it on himself and he deserves it half the time but you never feel like he does. I never do. I tried but I couldn't."

"I don't know if I want to love him again."

Belladonna smiled. "Shoot girl, you gotta quite before you can do it again. And he's not the kind of man you can ever quite. Something about him you just fall in love with and hell, he'll fall in love right back."

Rogue nodded. "Guess so."

"Well. . . I'm not telling you what you gotta do. Just what I hope you'll do. Slap the crap outa him if you have to just love him in the end." She broke into a grin. "You ever heard the song Stand by Your Man? One of the worst country songs ever written but it makes me think of him sometimes. There's one line. . . cause after all, he's just a man. Don't excuse anything but it's true."

Rogue laughed. "I know the song."

They laughed for a moment and it dawned on Rogue that she never in all her dreams thought she'd be sitting at a table laughing with Belladonna Bourdreaux. Least of all that the woman would be telling her to love Remy.

"I was jealous of you." He admitted.

Belladonna looked at her, the laughter dying from her eyes. "And I was of you. I think part of me this minute is glad you were jealous. Glad you felt threatened. But I don't think I mean you any malicious will. We've both loved the same man and we've both lost him. That brings women together. Doesn't make 'em friends. . . don't even make 'em like each other but it brings 'em together. Gives 'em common ground. Hell, it's probably what makes up hate each other."

"You miss him and I miss him and we both still love him. I don't think he has a right makin' us feel like this." Rogue smiled a little at her own words. "He's a bastard."

"He is indeed. Boy can't keep it in his pants and he doesn't know when to stop talking but he's just a man and he's no better or worse than anyone else. Well. . . maybe a little more worse. But it's like we said: he doesn't mean to be and deep down he's not. You see him again, you help him do good. You hear me? Cause he needs to do good he just don't know how."

Rogue nodded. "I won't ask you to do the same but I'll say thanks. Maybe some day Remy and I will work it out. I don't know if I want to but I'll keep an open mind."

The two women looked at each other and felt the closest thing to liking each other they had ever felt. Then Belladonna turned away and was gone and Rogue payed the check, head filled with thoughts about Remy and all of his faults and all of his virtues and everything that made him just a man and everything that made him seem like so much more and she knew. . . just a small part of her knew that she would never stop loving him.

[kanerallels]

Shang-Chi Freaking Rocked And Here's Why

Alright, I'm writing this post out of spite because I heard someone didn't like it. AND WE CAN'T HAVE THAT.

(I really don't understand why you wouldn't like it??? It's amazing??? And liking things is so much more fun that not liking them usually??? But hey, that's my opinion, man)

Anyhoo, prepare for a long post full of the reasons Shang-Chi was a truly stellar movie! Much though I'd love to go through every moment in the movie and scream about it for nerdy reasons, I'm going to be a professional nerd and offer reasons that will appeal to people other than just nerdy glee. I hope. (there will be some nerdy glee, though)

Shang-Chi and The Legend of the Ten Rings spoilers under the cut!

- The beginning was SO EXCELLENT. I really like that it wasn't narrated in English, because they live in China. Of course they wouldn't speak that. It's just a good detail that I appreciated

- The way the first pan through the Ten Rings' compound mirrored the last end credits scene was amazing, I ADORED IT.

- asdfghjklsdklfjlskdfjldfjsk the FIRST FIGHT SCENE. The choreography was beautiful, and I mean GORGEOUS. Wenwu and Ying Li's actors (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai and Fala Chen, respectively) somehow managed to convey their aggressive intent and the CLEAR respect and attraction that was growing between them

- Really, the choreography of all the fight scenes was incredible.(disclaimer-- I know nothing about martial arts and I won't pretend otherwise) During the bus scene, you could see the moment when Shaun made the switch from being just some guy to Shang-Chi, and it was so OBVIOUS. His confidence as he fought, how quickly he took out his enemies-- that was not, especially in Katy's eyes, something Shaun would do

- This is something one of my best friends pointed out when we went to see it-- Shang-Chi's aunt says that he looks like his mom. Not his sister. And how that must have felt for her. All this time she's been looked at as a shadow of her mother (especially by her dad) as just another reminder of her. That part, and the part where her aunt gave her the dragon scale rope dart, were kind of defining for her, in that she truly started to make her own way. Not just say she was, but do it.

- The revenge and redemption story in here was fantastic. Because Shang-Chi was legit hurt and angry and he wanted to take vengeance on his father for what he'd done. But in the end, he let go because revenge will only fill you with anger

- I really, really liked the whole "reclaiming what your parents passed on to you" parts. They were just beautiful. The fact that he couldn't defeat his dad fighting like his dad, or fighting like his mom. He had to fight as BOTH, as himself. He had to accept the gifts his father had given him, and release the pain he'd been holding onto. And only then was he able to defeat his father

- Katy's story line was super cool, and relatable. Not knowing what you want to do with your life, being afraid to try so not even bothering-- I can't be the only one out there who felt that. Which was why this one line kinda struck me, when Katy was being taught to shoot. That one old lady who's name I can't remember for the life of me said "If you aim at nothing, you hit nothing." And it's true. I mean, there's a possibility you fail, but if you never try you definitely won't succeed. Even if it's hard, you've gotta start shooting, or you'll never hit your mark. (which is a good lesson for me, frankly.)

- There was a line of Ying Nan's that I thought was particularly beautiful. During her and Shang-Chi's training session-- which I'll segue into after this note-- she said something along the lines of, "You must stop hiding from your past, nephew. It will only prolong the pain." And. I mean. She's hecking right??? Hiding from what you fear doesn't make it go away, it only makes the wait to face it longer

- I know some people who were disappointed that the warrior with the mask wasn't revealed to be anyone in particular, and I was disappointed about that at first, too. But my second time watching it, I thought-- maybe he's not supposed to be anyone. Maybe he's just a representation of all the pain Shang-Chi went through at his father's hands, of what his father did to him and let happen to him. Just a thought

- The training scene between Ying Nan and Shang-Chi was beautiful, I loved it!! Seriously, whoever choreographed the fights in this movie is amazing, major respect to them. The way Ying Nan, Ying Li and Shang-Chi's fight scenes using airbending (I know that's not what it is but I'm just gonna call it that here okay? Okay) had parts that mirrored each other? Poetic cinema

- Wenwu was... not a great dad but I really, really liked what they did with him, to the extent that I'm writing another post specifically about him. I'll link it in the notes later

- I really liked all the mythological creatures, especially since they're all from Asian mythology! I thought that was a super cool detail, personally

Okay, I think that's it, until I make my post about Wenwu who I apparently have a LOT more thoughts about than I expected. Until next time!