#either way regardless of if this is an observation peter can make he still failed to support miles. miles needed him and he fell through

[crowswarm]

i said i wasnt gonna go off in ops tags but im still gonna go off

im seeing a lot of discourse about miguel and how he treats miles and im not gonna write him off cause he was outta pocket but like i consider peter b to way worse than him in that regard

cause for all the shit miguel puts miles through, its (arguably) impersonal. miguel presents himself as an obstacle for miles to overcome from the very beginning. peter b on the other hand, just failed so dramatically to come through when miles needed him and i cant respect that at all

like maybe he trusts miguel and believes what they're doing is necessary for the safety of the universe but he makes the barest minimum attempt to protect miles in any capacity. like miles cannot consider him an ally until its too late and thats so fucked up cause miles looks up to him and respects and loves him so much and what does he do. he lets miguel choke slam miles into a train

and like i know its lampshaded that hes a bad mentor but like shouldnt that weigh on him. hes so nonchalant about it. shouldnt the fact that this kid (honestly these kids plural, counting gwen) trusted him to look out for them and he failed make him question himself

like yeah miguel was too grown to be doing all that but its so much more frustrating watching peter b just fail to be in miles corner.

as i said when i get my hands on peter b parker torn asunder that man will be

#ranting #i dont particularly want to tag this cause i dont want to summon the discourse to my home #i just want to add that i have a lot of thoughts about atsv as a meta narrative about the spiderman archetype #but like the entire point of miles morales in the spiderverse movies is that he defies expectations. #hes not defined by who anyone else says he should be and he has the impact on others that allows them to change in the same way #and peter b fucking Knows this hes seen it in action. he knows miles is a remarkable and capable kid so when he says #''i can save my dad without endangering the multiverse'' peter b should be in his Fucking corner #he should know better than to try and force miles into this strict idea of the spider man archetype especially one that demands he suffer #but idk in this regard i may be forgoing dramatic irony to assume that a character can make the same observation i can #since the point about miles defying expectations is one that is kind of meta. but atsv is kind of a meta narrative and the idea of canon #within the story does kind of mirror the understanding of the spider man archetype outside of it. peter knows about canon and knows miles i #an anomaly. he outright says miles inspired him to change his story so again idk #either way regardless of if this is an observation peter can make he still failed to support miles. miles needed him and he fell through #anyway between captain stacy and peter b the moral of spiderverse is that you cannot trust white men

[wrenhyperfixates]

No Cause For Alarm

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki blames himself when you get hurt on a mission. Thor is convinced that the only way to ease his guilt is for him to confess his feelings for you, so he and Peter hatch a plan to get Loki to do just that. Warnings: none I think; a little angst but mainly fluff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki paced in the waiting area of the hospital wing, anxiously awaiting when the doctor would come out with some information on you. His heart was pounding in his chest, living in the moment of the accident. You’d been on a mission together, supposedly just for reconnaissance, but before long you had to engage in combat. Not that you hadn’t been prepared for things to go that way, per se; it was just overwhelming. Naturally, anytime one spends in the field should be trademarked by a preparedness for things to go south. It's just that your intel had been off, or else the enemy agents had been alerted you were coming. There was supposed to be five guys, max, and only two of them there for muscle. Instead, you were met with nearly thirty burly men, all armed with guns. Though you could protect yourself, you were terribly outnumbered. Loki had done his best to protect you against the impossible odds, but he had failed. And now you were hurt.

“How are they?” he asked as soon as the doctor appeared, fear creeping into his voice.

“They’re going to be fine. The left leg is broken,” they replied, showing Loki the x-ray. “It should heal in about two months.”

“With checkups, of course? To make sure it’s healing properly?” Loki questioned, concerned for your recovery, not even realizing how much he was overreacting.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, the Tower is fully handicap-accessible, so you don’t need to worry about them getting around.”

“Good. May I go in and see them?”

The doctor gave him the all clear and pointed in the direction of your room. He hesitated a second before knocking on the door, afraid you’d be angry or disappointed with him. Currently, he felt both of those things toward himself, and he certainly deserved that and much worse after what happened to you.

“Come in,” you called, voice muffled by the door.

“Hello,” he said in a soft voice after slowly pushing open the door. “I am certain I am the last person you want to see right now, but I have to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Loki,” you laughed, an amused smile making its way on your face, though you were trying hard to suppress it. “Cut the doom and gloom. I’m fine, it’s just a broken leg. I’ve been through worse.”

“That may very well be, but this is my fault.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t do that to yourself,” you argued, more distressed by his emotional conflict than your physical pain. “This was the fault of those Hydra agents, whose, I might add, asses we absolutely whooped!”

Loki couldn’t understand your upbeat attitude, but it gave him enough courage to go to your bedside rather than lurking by the door. He knelt down next to you and rested his head on the bed. You played with his hair as you waited for him to say that he forgives himself, ready to reassure him again that it wasn’t his fault. The way you were methodically braiding and unbraiding a few locks of his hair helped him focus on calming down.

“I should have protected you,” he whispered, unable to let the notion go.

“But you did protect me, Loki,” you responded gently, cupping his face. “You did.”

“Ok,” he said after a shaky breath. “If that is what you truly believe, then I will drop it.”

Though he relented, you could still see the remorse in his eyes. He knew you didn’t want him tearing himself apart over this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Good,” was all you whispered, not wanting to upset either of you any further.

Loki opened his mouth to say something else to you, but it was drowned out by Thor’s thundering voice as he burst into the room. Peter followed behind him and they were both carrying balloons and other get-well gifts for you.

“Greetings!” Thor boomed. “How are you feeling?”

Loki hurriedly stood up, not wanting to be caught in this intimate moment with you, regardless of the fact that his brother already knew how he felt. He’d done his best to hide it, but the God of Thunder noticed his longing glances sent your way. According to Thor, you felt the same way, but it was just based on observations he made. Without verbal confirmation from you, Loki would never believe it. After all, why would you like him of all people?

“Pretty good, all things considered,” you answered, shifting your position as much as you could.

“Make sure you take it easy, though,” Peter cautioned, knowing how hyper-active you could be. “You don't want to hurt it more.”

“I know, I know. Jeez, you all need to lighten up.”

You continued to talk with your new visitors and Loki snuck away as to avoid the bright atmosphere that clashed with his gloomy one. Thor noticed and followed him out, stopping him in the hall.

“Brother,” he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, “what is the matter?”

“They will not admit it, but it is my fault that they are injured.”

“I have already read the mission report, and that is not what happened. You are just thinking this way because of your feelings for them.”

“Don’t patronize me, brother,” he said, jerking away. “You were not there. You do not know what happened.”

“Perhaps if you confessed your feelings, this guilt could clear up.”

“Enough, Thor. Please. Leave me alone.”

Loki stalked off to his room to brood in silence. How could everyone else be so flippant toward such a grave matter? Though, he supposed he did do everything in his power to keep you safe. Still, it wasn’t enough. He resolved to make it up to you any way you would allow. Later, he would go back to your room to take care of you, but right now he knew the best thing to do was stay away.

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

A little over a week later, Loki was still doting on you, though you had almost convinced him that your current predicament was not his fault in the slightest.  To be honest, you were a little overwhelmed by the attention he was giving you and wished he’d ease up a little.

“Honestly, Loki, don’t worry. I can handle it,” you chided when he put his arms out as if to catch you when you’d barely even stumbled. “I have the hang of it.”

“I am sure that you do, but one can never be too careful,” Loki scolded right back.

Both of you glared at each other for a minute before laughing. You knew he meant well, and he was doing his best to relax a little, so you shrugged it off.

“I guess you’re right. And, it’s nice to know that if I do fall, you’ll be there to catch me.”

Then you took the weight off your crutches and tipped toward him. Immediately, his arms shot back out and encompassed your body, pressing you to his strong chest. You relaxed against him as he hugged your frame tightly.

Meanwhile, across the room, Thor was watching the scene with sorrow. He was about ready to punch a wall when you laughed at something his brother whispered in your ear. It frustrated him to no end that Loki would not admit how he truly felt. For the love of all things good, you could not have more obviously returned his affections.

“Mr. Thor, are you ok?” Peter asked, wondering why the blonde god was standing off to the side, clenching his fists and muttering to himself.

“No. Can you keep a secret, spiderchild?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, wide-eyed.

“See, it is about Loki,” Thor whispered, leaning in conspiratorially and nodding toward where he was standing with you. “Look over there. They are in love, but they will not admit it!”

“Well, what if we created a situation that brings them so close together, they have to?”

“An intriguing idea. But what situation would that be?”

Peter started racking his brain, casually leaning back to rest against the wall. The only problem was he misjudged the distance and ended up flailing for something to grab onto as he fell back. Thor went to help him, but moved too late, and Peter somehow managed to pull the fire alarm.

“Spiderchild you’re a genius!” Thor shouted over the blaring siren.

“Oh, yeah. I meant to do that,” Peter said with a nervous laugh.

Knowing there was no real danger, the pair stayed and watched as Loki scooped you up in his arms and took off towards the nearest exit. They followed him down the levels of the Tower, eventually being met with a mob of people trying to flee the building. About halfway down, Loki teleported to safety with you, nervous that there would be too many people to get you out in time. By the time Peter and Thor stepped outside, the alarms had been shut off and Tony was talking to you and Loki.

“Are you sure there’s no danger?” they heard you inquire as they neared the spot where you were standing.

“No fires detected,” F.R.I.D.A.Y responded through the tablet in Tony’s hand.

“No malfunctions either. Someone tripped it manually,” Tony added, pointing at the offending alarm on the system map he was looking at.

Thor and Peter halted their progress toward you, and began to turn around. Not before Loki had spotted them, though.

“Were not the two of you standing by this location?” he asked as everyone else was told it was safe to return to the building.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Peter faked, thinking quick. “That’s kind of a confusing map.”

Thor agreed with Peter and, when it was obvious they weren’t going to say anything else, Loki magicked the group back up to the spot where they had been. After setting you on a chair for a second, he went to retrieve your crutches, which you had abandoned during your escape.

“Oh, this alarm,” Peter said in his best shocked tone. “I guess we may have been in the general vicinity.”

“Yes, it really was very hard to tell on that tablet,” Thor added.

“Honestly tell me, did you guys set it off?” Tony interrogated them, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to know for safety reasons.”

“Yes,” they sighed, finally telling the truth.

“But it was by accident,” Peter added. “Kind of.”

“What do you mean ‘kind of’ spiderling?” Loki asked with growing suspicion.

And then Thor realized that the only situation that would make them own up to their feelings was to call them out on it. So, he told the story of how he and Peter were scheming and ended up triggering the alarm. Tony walked away, muttering about how he was the only sane one in the whole Tower. Loki, on the other hand, was partly furious, partly amused. You, however, were mainly just the latter.

“Listen, it’s a sweet gesture, but an unnecessary one,” you told them.

“It is true. You see, I have already confessed my love.”

Peter happily gasped and started clapping his hands while Thor’s jaw dropped. He stood there for a minute before Loki’s words sank in. Once the surprise wore off, he grabbed Loki in a bear-hug, then gave you a considerably gentler one, being mindful of your injury.

“This is wonderful news, brother! But why did you not tell me?” he asked with sad puppy-dog eyes.

“It is a recent development.”

“Yeah. We were going to tell everyone at dinner tomorrow,” you contributed.

“See Mr. Thor, it’s all good. And now we can celebrate.”

“Indeed! We can have a party tonight,” Thor excitedly said, already making preparations in his mind.

“Not so fast, Thor,” Loki interjected. “It is lovely that we are all happy, yes, but you must stop meddling in my personal life.”

Then he scooped you up and swept you away from the room before Thor had the chance to argue. He should have stuck around, though, because there was no one to stop Thor from beginning to plan your wedding.

#Did anyone else hear the curb your enthusiasm theme when they said they already confessed? No? Just me? ok #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #thor odinson #thor #peter parker #spiderman #loki angst #tony stark #ironman

[crash-cinematic-universe]

A Speedster, A Nuclear Bomb, and a Worn Down Walkman (Ch.1)

pairing: peter maximoff/fem!Wilson!reader

summary:  Y/n Wilson is the only child of the renowned X-Man Deadpool. When Y/n is asked to enroll in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters by Charles Xavier himself, she has no choice but to accept; much to the dismay of her father. Y/n isn’t used to the knew surroundings or the constant stress of her mutation. All she wanted to do was disappear. Little did Y/n know, she caught the eyes of a certain speedster who wasn’t planning on letting her fade away anytime soon.

req:  Hey, I was wondering if you could write something about dating peter maximoff and being deadpools kid - @8-eight-8

warnings: none, rlly

notes: FUCK YEAH!!! IM BACK TO WRITING THIS SERIES BABEY. sorry this took so long, i swear it wont take this long next time. also 2.5k words to make up for it hell yeah!

PREVIOUS: prologue 

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @wallows-spring

            Saying that life at the academy was hectic would be a severe understatement; your first few days were filled to the brim with endless placement assessments and class work and first impressions. It was as if you were meeting every person at once, each new smiling face and unique name immediately leaving your brain after mere seconds of talking. It was overwhelming and chaotic and at one point you felt as if you had begun to spiral in the first week-- worst of all, you were beginning to miss your father. However, there was one person who stuck in your mind like a fly to a gluetrap-- Peter Maximoff. 

            Peter was made of pure adrenaline, constantly on the move at high speeds as if he would cease to exist if he were to stand still. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to land himself right next to you anywhere you went. You’re not exactly complaining, though, you quite like having Peter around. He’s like your anchor, a person you can lean on when everyone and everything becomes too much-- not to mention Peter’s physical appearance. His features were refined and smooth, as if he was carved from marble by Michelangelo himself. He always had a grin on his face, his eyes lighting up like Fourth of July fireworks that you just can’t look away from. 

            Similarly, Peter was still having trouble processing… you. You were like an ethereal being, an inhuman gracefulness and beauty following you everywhere you went. You brightened up rooms, your laugh could make the saddest person feel uplifted, your eyes were abyss-like pools that made Peter feel fuzzy whenever they locked with him. Peter couldn’t stay away from you if he tried-- you were magnetic, an invisible force pulling him closer and closer until he got close enough to smell the shampoo you use. Everything about you was amazing and perfect and pristine to him-- he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have a crush on you. Unfortunately for Peter, you were completely and totally out of  his league. In fact, you were so out of his league that the mere thought of you liking him seemed about as realistic as a fever dream. For now, Peter was content with being your friend.

            Meanwhile, Charles was attempting to settle on one of the hardest dilemmas of his lifetime. Originally, Charles had invited you to the academy to attempt to control your mutation. Hank had run various tests to get an idea of exactly how strong you’d become, and the results were shocking. Long story short, both Charles and Hank had come to the conclusion that you were a ticking time bomb. With every day that passes your manipulation of energy expands, reigning in more and more force by the second. The process is gradual and slow, but with time, you would lose your ability to contain the energy. Keeping you in the academy would be your only chance at stopping your inevitable destination, but that would also put the rest of the students at risk. Then again, you were useful; having you on the X-Men team would help save so many people. For the first time in what felt like years, Charles didn’t know what to do. 

            “Hank,” The British man called. “If you were the equivalent to a timed explosive, would you… would you want to know?”

            “I’m sorry?” Hank’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

            “I just… I’m not sure if I should tell Y/n about her… situation.” Hank nods in understanding before inhaling deeply.

            “Charles, she’s only been here a few days. She’s barely settled in-- give her time to… warm up to the place.” Hank replies. That doesn’t help Charles’s situation.

            “And after that? After she’s settled in?” Hank sighs. He’s not sure what to do either-- all Hank really knows is that he wants whatever's best for you. Hank had come to enjoy your presence through the last few days. You were kind and paid attention to Hank and his interests. It was refreshing-- Hank wasn’t used to having some be genuinely impressed by his work.

            “You have to tell her eventually, Charles. You’re only hurting her by hiding it.” Charles groans and leans back in his chair. He was truly dreading this conversation-- he had no doubt in his mind that you’d want what’s best for the other students; Wade mentioned that you had a habit of putting others' needs and feelings before your own.

            “Thank you, Hank. That’ll be all.” He waves the other man out of the room, allowing himself to be left to his own thoughts. Charles’s head ached as he glanced at the report Hank had written on you, one specific observation jumping out at the distressed man: “Y/n Wilson is as much an evolutionary breakthrough as she is a safety hazard-- she must learn to contain her power; if she’s successful, she’ll be one of the most powerful mutants ever recorded. If she fails-- if we fail, the consequences will be as catastrophic and destructive as a nuclear explosive. Proceed with caution.”

______________

            The sound of confused giggles and hurried footsteps echo through the hallway as Peter gently tugs you along, turning to glance at you every now and then. Peter knew you were having trouble getting comfortable with the other students, and he was determined to change that. He had a small group of friends that were eager to meet you-- Peter managed to bring you up in every conversation he’s had with anyone in the past week.

            “Peter, where are we going?” You question as Peter turns around a corner. He just shoots a smile back at you before quickly pulling you into his bedroom-- a bunch of students sitting in various places on the floor. You can recognize a few faces from the hallways, but other than that they’re mostly strangers. Except for one-- I can recognize Kurt from the library.

            “Alright, so, uh, I thought that maybe you’d want to meet some of my friends. Just to-- uhm-- just to get more used to some of the people here.” Peter’s stomach flutters as you grin at him.

            “You did this for me?” Peter nodded before your attention was quickly drawn away from him and to the people around the room. Peter is quick to introduce you to all his friends.

            “Uh, Kurt, Jubilee, Scott, Jean, Ororo, this is Y/n,” A blue teenager materializes in front of me almost instantly. 

            “We met already but it is nice to meet you again,” He grins a toothy grin, his hand extending to shake mine. I’m soon met by a boy wearing odd goggles, presumably Scott, then Jubilee, then Ororo, then finally, Jean. They were all friendly and unique and oddly comforting in a way, regardless of the fact that they were all a full decade younger than you and Peter. 

            “What’s the best way to get to know someone?” Scott asks, glancing at Jubilee. She smirks back at him.

            “In all 16 years of living, I’ve come to learn that the single best way to get to know someone's personality is via the ancient practice of Truth or Dare.” She grins wildly.

            “Oh, uh, I don’t know if--” You can hear Peter inhale sharply as Scott pulls him onto the floor, the other students following suit and soon forming a circle on the floor. Jubilee tugs you down by your sleeve.

            “Alright, who’s first?” Jean quips. Everyone exchanges a look before settling on Peter.

            “Oh, uhm… Kurt, truth or dare?” Everyone seems to be disappointed by Peter’s selection, but they continue nevertheless.

            “Truth.” Peter bites his lip while he attempts to think of a question to ask, and you can’t help but stare. The silver speedster is undeniably cute-- you’ll willfully admit that any day. “Out of everyone here, who do you think is the smartest?”

            “Well, both you and Y/n are much older than ze rest of us, so it’s one von of you two-- sorry Jean, zey just have more experience. Uh, I guess Y/n since I vonce saw Peter try to catch a bird with his bare hands.” You laugh out loud at this new discovery and Peter’s face burns a light red. 

            “Alright, Kurt, it’s your turn.” Jean says. The blue boy scans the crowd before choosing the next victim. 

            “Y/n, truth or dare?” All eyes turned to you expectantly. You were never a coward, so you took the most logical route.

            “Dare.” The entire group jitters with excitement, anticipation for what odd things Kurt would make you do circulating in the air.

            “I dare you… to hold hands with Peter for ze rest of ze game.” Scott and Jean both huff in disappointment as Jubilee and Ororo gaze at Kurt with such fury it was as if they were trying to kill him. This dare was odd, sure, but you weren’t one to back down.

            “Easy peasy,” You quip as you hold out your hand for Peter to take. He laces your fingers with yours and immediately your entire arm feels as if it had just been jostled awake. The feeling of Peter’s hand in yours is foreign, but incredibly welcome. His hands are warm. 

            “My turn, right?” You ask, trying to forget the fact that Peter’s hand is entangled with yours. “Jubilee, truth or dare?” 

            “Truth, and make it good.” She grins. 

            “Whose mutation do you think is the least useful out of everyone in this circle?” Jubilee glances around the circle.

            “Depends. I don’t know what yours is,” she trails off for a moment. “And I don’t wanna be mean…”

            “My mutation is energy manipulation-- I can control the energy that’s constantly being produced.” Peter’s grip on your hand tightens a bit as Jube’s eyes widen. 

            “Okay, that’s fucking awesome so definitely not yours,” she exclaims. “Kurt and Peter are useful in combat, Jean is useful in getting information, Ororo and Scott are both super powerful-- I think my mutation is the least useful.”

            “Don’t say that, Jubilee,” Scott says from across the circle. “You’re useful sometimes.” Jean cringes at his words and both Jubilee and Kurt laugh aloud. Scott seems unaware of his mistake. 

            “Thanks, Scott,” The young girl said before returning to the game. “Alright, my turn again? Ororo, truth or dare?”

            “Dare,” Ororo smirks. She’s quite pretty, her hair looked soft and shimmery-- not dissimilar to Peter’s. 

            “I dare you to knock the power out of the entire mansion for a full five minutes.” Ororo complies, a large clap of thunder echoing through the mansion as the room goes dark. Ororo had created a large thunderstorm to cover for the power outage, lightning and rain wailing down on the windows. Peter grips your hand tightly, his muscles tensing as he shuts his eyes for a moment. The other students are consumed by their chatter and laughter in the darkness.

            “Hey, you okay?” You ask softly. Peter is jumpy and nervous, but he doesn’t want to seem cowardly in front of you. 

            “Y-yeah, I’m just not the b-biggest fan of thunderstorms,” You can tell he’s trying to act tough. Gently, you run your thumb over his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down.

            “Don’t worry, silver, the storm will pass. For now, I can distract you if you’d like me to,” You offer. Peter looks at you for a moment, and his heart skips a beat. You’re kind and sweet and selfless, you’re considerate and caring and wonderful and Peter is in awe of you. 

            “A distraction would be nice.” Peter said quietly, wincing at the weakness in his voice. He was almost 30 years old, one of the oldest among the group in the room and he was cowering because of a little thunder. He felt ashamed and small-- it really was no shocker that you were out of his league. However, when you flipped his hand over and began tracing shapes on his palm with your finger, all of his worries melted away for a moment. 

            After a while, Ororo switched the lights back on and dispersed the storm outside, the group  of teens returning to the antics almost instantaneously. You pulled your hands away from Peter reluctantly.

            “Well, uh, I better get going-- I have some work to do.” You say as you stand up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, this game was pretty fun. I’ll see you around.” You can hear Peter scramble behind you, quickly following you out of the room as if he were a lost puppy. You walked in silence for a while, Peter’s strides in sync with yours as you made your way to your bedroom. You admired the detailed architecture along the walls as you walked, various small symbols were scattered across the wallpaper. You didn’t realize you’d reached your bedroom until you were standing face-to-face with the door.

            “Thank you.” Peter says, his voice low and raspy. He’s not looking at you, his eyes glued to the floor.

            “For what?” The shameful feelings returned as Peter kept his eyes on the floor. He feels like a baby-- a whiny baby who gets afraid during thunderstorms and has trouble articulating his thoughts and feelings. It made him so frustrated when he couldn’t find the words to say what needed to be said-- his mind just moved too fast to grip onto any coherent thoughts. When he glanced into your eyes, he managed to get something out.

            “It’s just that I know a lot of people who would make fun of me for being as old as I am and so easily scared.” You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. Peter didn’t want you to pity him, but at this point he just needed to express his gratitude. “Thank you for… not being one of those people.” You took his face gently in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

            “Anytime, Maximoff. Anytime.” You smiled before opening your bedroom door and stepping inside. The first thing you notice is that the books on your desk have been knocked over. Then, you realize that there was someone standing behind you.

            You yelp, whipping around and shooting out a blast of energy. You didn’t even expel that much force, but the figure is launched into the wall. It’s only then that you realize this figure was actually your father.

            “Dad? What the fuck are you doing here?!” You shout as you rush to help him off the floor.

            “What, I need a reason to come see my daughter?” He jokes as he pops his arm back into its socket. He looks worried, but he masks it with a smile. “It just happens that Charles wanted to see me the same day I came to visit you.”

            “Charles wants to see you? Why?” You ask as Wade pulls you into a hug. A cough from the doorway startles you apart, and a very anxious looking Hank is standing in the doorway.

            “Looks like we’re about to find out,”

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #xmen series #wade wilson #wilson!reader #peter maximoff x wilson!reader #a speedster a nuclear bomb and a worn down walkman series

[the-darklings]

—𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔;

pairing: quentin beck x reader

word count: 1.9k+

summary: “They say the Devil’s in the details.” 

notes: I’m Boo Boo the Fool and it is known. Beware some spoilers for far from home. Enjoy!

‘unravelling’ miniseries: | 01 | 02 | . . | 04

gif credit (x)

Life can be over in a moment. 

For you, it was over in a blink. It hadn’t felt like dying—not really. It had felt like...weightlessness. Freedom. As twisted as it sounded. For you it was a breath, for the world it was five years. 

When you came back the world had moved on; a cold, foreign place that made you constantly feel out of step. And then the news about your dad…

Biting back a sigh, you approached the familiar figure with no small amount of wariness. 

“You okay, kiddo? I know this all seems sudden.”

Peter’s wide-eyed stare greeted you and he stuttered, his expression faltering upon seeing you. “(Name)? Oh. Y-You’re here too? I mean—yeah, it makes sense. I just haven’t seen you since…”

Since the funeral. 

The memory was still bitter and far too fresh in your mind, but you knew it was even worse for Peter. Tony, for all his faults and virtues, was like a father figure to Peter. His death had affected the boy on a level you suspected it affected very few. You knew how much it stung to lose a parent, and had protested loudly when Fury insisted on bringing Peter in for the Elementals situation. The kid deserved some time away from all this—from the chaos and death, especially since his grief was still so fresh. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered apologetically, meaning every word. “Everything has been crazy since the battle, and I know that’s no excuse, but there never seems to be enough time to check in.”

Peter’s face was like an open book, and you almost winced at the flicker of hurt you saw in his doe-like eyes. “No, no—it’s okay. I completely understand. You have all this to deal with,” he finished off awkwardly, gesturing his hand vaguely towards the temporary base you had set up. “Though—I was wondering if m-maybe…”

“Out with it, Peter,” you said with a wry twist of your mouth and held back a smile at the embarrassed shuffle he did. “What do you need?” 

“I was just wondering if you could please talk with Mr Fury and explain to him that—that, I just want to enjoy my trip,” he rushed out, an almost desperate edge to his words. “And I appreciate him needing my help—really, I do, it’s a real honour—but I just need...time.”

Your face creased with worry and you place your hand on Peter’s shoulder, stepping closer. You expected him to push your hand away the same way most flustered teenage boys would, but he only leaned into your touch and your heart clenched at the sheen of raw pain suddenly reflecting in Peter’s eyes. Sometimes—too often—this boy was so amazing, it was hard to remember that he was still just a boy. Still growing, still developing. That just because he could fight toe-to-toe with some of the strongest and best out there, his heart was still young, still barren of scars and heartache. 

Though, you suspected that had changed now. 

He was no longer that same wide-eyed, awestruck kid Tony had introduced you to with a snarky grin and a pointed look in your direction. 

Peter was a good kid though, and it twisted your stomach just thinking how isolated he must be feeling. How torn apart. 

“Peter,” you addressed him, the syllables of his name full of worry, “Do you want to talk? It’s normal to not feel okay, kiddo. Talk with someone. Even if it’s not me, then your friends or aunt.” 

He looked up at you, eyes shining, and shook his head weakly, “No, they won’t—they won’t understand. Would it...would it be okay...if you? Would you mind? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never bothering me, Peter.”

“But the Elementals—”

“Have people far more capable and powerful than me dealing with it,” you cut him off, giving his shoulder a squeeze and a small, warm smile. “If you want to talk right now—”

“Mr Parker, there you are,” a familiar voice interrupted loudly from behind you, and you turned sharply towards it. “It’s good to see that you haven’t left yet.”

Fury stood in the archway to the base, his arms folded behind his back and face stern. Quentin stood beside him, his eyes focused solely on your hand on Peter’s shoulder and a slight tilt of his head. You caught his gaze, blinking at the way his expression softened upon seeing you, a slight smile curling his mouth.

“I need to talk with you, Mr Parker,” Fury instructed easily, turning away without waiting for a reply. “Right now.”

“Actually Peter and I were just—”

Fury halted, his eye focusing on you, and surprise marrying his features, “Chit chat can wait for later, I think. I don’t know if any of you noticed, but we have a big problem to deal with, and not a lot of time or manpower to do so. So Mr Parker, if I may?” 

Peter stuttered weakly, eyes shifting from you to Fury in a slight panic. Giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze, you offered him a brief smile, “We’ll speak later, kiddo.” 

Peter nodded, his relief palpable, and moved after inpatient Fury who was already turning to walk away. 

Chewing thoughtfully on your bottom lip, you watched them walk away silently. You were so focused on their retreating backs, you almost missed Quentin coming to a stop before you, his blue eyes thoughtful. 

“Didn’t realize Fury was back yet,” you spoke, confusion apparent in your voice when you looked up at the man in front of you. “I thought he was going to be out for another few hours?”

“He must have come back early,” Quentin replied easily, almost eerily calm, but there was something strained about the smile he was giving you. “He strikes me as an elusive man.”

You hummed in agreement, absentmindedly wondering why Fury was so insistent on Peter regardless of his wellbeing. The thought made your stomach twist into knots. 

Just because someone can fight, doesn’t mean they should. 

“You care for him.”

Your eyes swung from the archway towards Quentin who was peering at you intently, and you felt something in your stomach do a little flip at the burning intensity in his gaze. 

He didn’t need to clarify who he was talking about. You already knew. 

“He’s a good kid,” you finally found your voice, words hushed, a touch bitter, “A really good kid. And everyone expects so much of him. Too much. They place all this responsibility on him and expect there to be no side effects. He’s a hero—he was born to be one, there is no arguing that. But he should be allowed to be himself too.” 

The bubble of irritation that had kept smouldering inside your chest all day seemed to have finally boiled over. By the time you finished your little rant, you needed a steadying breath, your heart beating just a few beats too fast. 

“Sorry.”

“Never apologize for caring about people and their feelings,” he told you seriously, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something being unsaid. “Not enough people do.”    

“That’s deep, Quentin,” you joked with a tired smile, “I wish I could change things but...well...”

You shrugged helplessly, feeling angry on Peter’s behalf and your own too. That no matter what you did or achieved, your voice still mattered little in the grand scheme of things. 

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t feel Quentin take a step closer. Not until his warm fingers brushed against your face, the pad of his thumb skimming under your eye delicately. 

He observed you shrewdly, his eyebrows heavily furrowed, “You look tired, honey.”

A pleasant shiver raced down your spine at his nearness, at his touch, and the low baritone of his voice as his eyes slowly traced over your features. 

He pulled back swiftly upon noticing your startled expression and cleared his throat, looking away from you, “Sorry, habit.”

Habit?

“Sorry I—I should probably go and find Peter and—yeah.”

Casting your eyes down, you moved to walk past him but his warm fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you and making your eyes fly up to meet his. 

“Come away with me.”

With the shadows of the underground tunnel dancing across his features, Quentin looked equal parts mesmerizing and unsettling as he leaned closer. His voice and face were compelling enough already, and the look in his eyes wasn’t helping either. Heavy and focused entirely on you. 

“To the city,” he added softly, thumb scraping lightly against your inner wrist. “You haven’t healed properly yet and you’re overworking yourself constantly. And I—I admit that I need to clear my head as well. Everything seems to be happening all at once and I—”

His voice cracked and he closed his eyes with a weary sigh, “It’s been very difficult. And—and you’re the closest thing I have to a friend in this world.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to force casualness into your tone, “In that getup? We’re bound to grab the attention of the circus.” 

His laugh was a rich sound of pure mirth and the sharpness of his grin made him look positively devilish.

“I can change clothes easily enough, I think.”

Sighing, you nodded your head in agreement, loosening your shoulders, “You’ve been working harder than any of us to protect this world, Quentin. You deserve a break. The least I can do is accompany you.” 

He lifted your wrist then—fingers still comfortably warm around it—before taking your hand in his, and laying a lingering kiss against the back of it. The exact mirror image of your first meeting. 

You tried not to focus on the heat of his lips, or the scratch of his beard when it brushed against your skin. And especially not at the way he glanced up at you, his eyes burning with triumph and a thousand nameless things. 

“I’ll see you soon, honey.”

(You failed.) 

. . .

The kid. 

Peter, Peter, Peter.

Quentin liked him enough. He was smart, at least. That was admirable in and on itself. An awkward mess but most kids were. He sure was. 

Admittedly, under different circumstances, it might have been fun to mentor a smart one like Peter. At least he would make the conversation interesting, unlike most people. 

And he was long since aware you knew the kid as well. Your face was a frequent one at the Stark Industries. Though he had never seen you himself—what a pity—being usually stuck inside one of the labs, wasting his days away, he still knew. 

But he had underestimated just how much you cared, and how much Peter acted like an imprinted puppy when you were concerned.

You began as a complication that turned into a work in progress to—hopefully—a masterpiece when it was all said and done.

He couldn’t afford...complications. 

No, no. He had been denied too much—all his life, over and over again. He deserved this. He deserved something gentle and good for once. 

And he would take it because you weren’t denying him—were not pushing him away.

They say the Devil’s in the details. 

Now, Quentin only needed for everyone to play their roles to perfection.

He needed for your delightful, fascinating self to lose that remaining shred of wariness you still clung to. 

“Patience,” he murmured under his breath, remembering your circus comment with a sharp, delighted smirk. “We’re just getting started after all.”

 . . .

an: someone please protect my son Peter. I want to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and tell him it will all be okay. Also yay, for Quentin being Peak Bastard™. And in case anyone is wondering, yes, that wasn’t actually Fury. Thank you for all the love and the support so far, we’re here right now because of it. You’re all amazing. <33

tagging: @val-kay-rie @t-swizzle-owns-me @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @songofcosplay @rooftopexy @leilei-draws @go-commander-kim @kusooi (thank you, everyone! hope you enjoyed it!)

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #mysterio x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #quentin beck imagine #marvel fic #spider man #spider man far from home #mysterio #ffh spoilers #spffh spoilers #*SIGHS FOR TEN YEARS* #when will i change? #fic: unravelling series

[bevioletskies]

bring it on home to me [2/5]

summary: The fight of everyone’s lives may be over, but for Nebula, Peter, and the rest of the Guardians, the search for the person they love most has just begun.

a/n: MAJOR spoiler warning for Avengers: Endgame, though I am a little vague about the events of what happened. Regardless, please don’t let me spoil it for you!

Fic title is, of course, from the song Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke. Warning for mentions of blood and unnamed character deaths.

word count: 2.8k | ao3 | tag

Mantis woke to a dull throbbing in her forehead, a thu-thump that sounded more like an irregular heartbeat than the usual background noise of the Benatar’s engine’s rumbles and groans. It was an unfortunate common occurrence for her, the faint sounds of other people’s worries and fears radiating off them like a siren, calling out for someone to listen. Now, living in close quarters with teammates who constantly fretted and kept it all to themselves, the sirens were more like full-on klaxons blaring in her brain.

When she was growing up under the too-watchful eye of Peter’s father, it hadn’t been so terrible in that respect - he was a man of single-minded purpose, his arrogance so excessive that his narcissism far outweighed his doubt. His feelings, his emotions, had come second to all the things he’d demanded of her, and it was far easier to shut out one person than another five. Mantis had never understood the full spectrum of the emotional experience until meeting the other Guardians.

She tiptoed gingerly out of her bunk and into the tiny kitchenette, pouring herself a glass of water and sitting down at the table. Peter and Nebula had laid out scraps of reports and blurry photos all over its surface, still attempting to work together after the last half-dozen temper tantrums they’d had (Peter moreso than Nebula, not that anyone was counting). “We’re gettin’ closer,” Peter would say every morning during their team discussions, having long abandoned other jobs in favor of this one. Rocket would then quip that they weren’t, Drax would have some sort of blunt response, and Nebula would roll her eyes while Groot adamantly continued staring at his game console screen, trying and failing to not get his hopes up. Mantis would be sitting further away, observing, feeling completely and utterly useless.

“You’re not useless, Mantis.” It was three months after Mantis had joined the Guardians, and they had returned to their ship after a semi-successful job where their worst injury was Rocket’s singed whiskers and Peter’s bruised ego. She had sat down beside Mantis, who was sulking quietly by the vantage window. The softness in her voice always betrayed the sharpness of her expression. “I don’t need your powers to tell that that’s how you feel right now.”

“I wish I was more like you,” Mantis had sighed. “Brave...and strong. But I do not know if I want to fight.”

“Then don’t,” she had said simply. “Your life is yours now. Your purpose is your choice.”

“I suppose when you put it like that...I have never felt so free.” Mantis had hummed, some song that Peter had played once that had been stuck in her head ever since, drowning out the noise that had otherwise taken permanent residence in her head.

Her face had softened. “Neither have I. Though I’ll spend the rest of my life burdened with knowing what I’ve done when I was with Thanos. What I didn’t do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t stop him, I didn’t escape him until it was almost too late. I didn’t realize the extent of what he’d been doing to my sister until the damage to our relationship, to Nebula herself, was beyond repair.” She had shuddered, her hand moving to a specific pocket on her utility belt, drawing out a switchblade embedded with some sort of red jewels. Slowly, she had begun to spin it, flipping it deftly like she’d clearly done so many times before. “I imagine you felt similarly about Ego.”

“I do not know how I feel about anything sometimes,” Mantis had admitted. “But I do know that I wish I had met all of you earlier.”

“I don’t think you would’ve liked us earlier,” she had replied, her tone dry. Then, her head had dipped downward, eyes fixated on her lap. The switchblade came to a stop. “I know I didn’t.”

Mantis had watched her, pensive. “Do you like yourself now?”

Gamora had let out a low chuckle; the sound had haunted Mantis then, and it spoke to her now. “I hope that someday, I will.”

Mantis was drawn out of her memory by the sound of an awkward, distinctive cough behind her. She turned to see Drax stood by the freezer unit, a half-eaten rations packet poorly hidden behind his back. “Drax?”

“I was hungry,” he said, defending himself against absolutely nothing of consequence. “Why are you awake?”

“Sleep escapes me sometimes,” she replied, gesturing for him to join her at the table. He sat across from her, reluctantly putting the rations packet on its surface, knowing he was going to get an earful from Peter about it in the morning (“Food is expensive, Drax! You wanna see our bank account again, or do you wanna maybe not get the late-night munchies for once?”). “Everyone gets louder and louder the closer we get to...wherever Peter thinks she is.”

“We have been having discussions at the same volume the whole time,” Drax protested.

“I mean in here.” Mantis tapped a finger against her temples, right below the base of her antennae. “Nebula is angrier than ever. Peter has never felt so sad. They are very desperate. We are all very desperate.”

Drax elected not to respond right away, instead peeling back the packet so he could dig to the bottom, popping another bite or two into his mouth and chewing slowly without really tasting anything. He knew the others thought more highly of him than anyone but his family had ever done before, but still, he knew they also mostly saw him as oblivious, simple-minded Drax - the one they could count on in a battle, but not in a war. He was a warrior, not a tactician, a body, not a brain. His grief wasn’t always as obvious to the others, either; it wasn’t like Nebula’s scowls or Peter’s tears, Rocket’s drooping whiskers or Groot’s trembling mouth. It was quieter, far quieter than his combative cries during a fight or his harsh tones during an argument. It was almost silent. Most times, Mantis was the only one who could hear him.

“So desperate that we hang onto the mere existence of a woman who is not the one we know,” Drax said hollowly, setting the packet back down. “I have made peace with the death of my wife and daughter. I think it’s time for Quill and Nebula to make peace with hers.”

“How could you say that?” Mantis leapt to her feet, knocking over her water glass in the process; her eyes barely glanced over as it went splashing everywhere, dripping all over the floor. “We have encountered her three times since she ran away, and she has let us get closer each time. Maybe she is not the one we know, but she wants to trust us. I know that. I can feel that. We cannot just...give up!”

“We are working ourselves into a sickness, a disease. She would not want us to mourn her forever,” he insisted. “It is not the warrior way.”

“But she was not just a warrior, and neither are you,” she retorted, her lip curling in a childish manner. “She only died a few months ago. How long have you had to mourn your wife and daughter?”

“Too long.” Mantis froze, her eyes widening in horror in realization of what she’d said, of how easy it had been for him to answer her. She was hardly one to get angry at the others, but somehow, Drax was always the one who got to her more than anyone else. Whether it was a sign of their closeness or their wildly different temperaments, she couldn’t be sure.

She exhaled. “We deserve more time to look for her than you might think. Maybe someday, she will want to stay with us, and she can get to know everyone all over again. I think Peter and Nebula really, really need it. We all do.”

Drax got to his feet, moving to dispose of the empty packet, pointedly keeping his back to her. “Sleep well, Mantis.” He left before she had time to reply, weaving his way through the Benatar’s damp corridor and back to his bed, where he knew he wouldn’t be able to take his own advice.

Another two days passed before they were remotely close to where they were trying to be, a location that Peter refused to disclose to the others for reasons unknown. He and Nebula had reached the acceptance stage in their relationship, as in they accepted each other’s presence reluctantly and begrudgingly. Seeing them successfully coordinate their efforts was strangely disturbing to everyone else.

“I still don’t trust her,” Drax murmured to Peter after their usual morning discussion, watching Nebula reluctantly follow Mantis through to the back of the ship for lack of something else to do. “She has tried to kill us on multiple occasions.”

“Hey, look, Nebula’s not my favorite person either, but she’s different now,” Peter protested, furrowing his brow. “She only sometimes threatens to maim me these days. Plus, after all that stuff she did to help save the universe, we gotta cut her some slack. She’s not the bad guy anymore. She’s one of us.”

“I suppose she has become more agreeable, yes,” Drax relented, nodding. “But do not mistake her presence for her allegiance, Quill. She is merely here for her sister, and when she realizes that that woman isn’t her - ”

“Don’t - ” Peter’s finger was on the trigger of his quad blaster before Drax could get his next word out, though he didn’t draw his weapon. His breath was ragged between his teeth. “Don’t you dare, alright? Don’t you say nothin’ like that.”

“Then I have nothing more to say,” Drax said quietly, promptly turning and walking away.

On the other side of the ship, Mantis and Nebula were sat by the window, Groot’s favorite spot to sit and watch the stars go by when he was younger. The two of them had an odd relationship, knowing the absolute least about each other of all the Guardians, and yet always feeling a vague sense of apprehension in the other’s presence. They both knew what the other was capable of, the physical and psychological damage they could inflict upon one another, and that was all it took for them to maintain their distance. Still, between the loudness of everyone else’s personalities, they were somehow the quietest of them all, and sometimes, silence was exactly what they needed.

“What happened when you were with your past self?” Silence was not a particularly long-term commitment for Mantis. Nebula turned to shoot her a dirty look, but Mantis returned it with a steely gaze of her own.

Sighing, Nebula brought one knee up to her chest so she could rest her arm. “If you think I’m going to tell you what it was like to look into my own eyes from nine years ago, you’ve sorely misinterpreted our relationship.”

Mantis looked away. “After you left to kill Thanos...sometimes, she would find it very hard to talk about you. But other times, she would tell me stories about how you grew up together.”

“Is that what she called it?” Nebula said, her voice even raspier than usual. “Growing up together? As if we lived in a house and went to school and lived a perfectly ordinary life?”

“She said she always wanted to understand you,” Mantis mused. “But she did not know where to start.”

Nebula scoffed. “Understand me? My sister seems to have spent far more time getting to know you than she ever did with me. It was only in the end that she...that we…” She trailed off, unusually uncertain of what to say.

“Once she started to trust me, she was very helpful in making me feel like I belonged.” Mantis smiled bemusedly, her eyes glazing over, lost in her own memories. “Before becoming a Guardian, I did not think I belonged anywhere but on Ego, serving my master for the rest of my life. She made me see that I could be more, and that we had more in common than we thought.” Her gaze went back to Nebula’s face; it startled Nebula then how similar their dark, inky eyes looked in a certain light. “That includes you, too.”

“What could we possibly have in common?”

Mantis brightened, much to Nebula’s dismay. “Oh, many things! We were all taken as children by a powerful man who wanted us to be servants instead of companions. We felt isolated and controlled and alone. We - ”

“Do stop talking.” Nebula clapped her hand down firmly on top of Mantis’s, pinning it to Mantis’s leg. Mantis jumped but didn’t dare move otherwise. “I can only listen to your voice for so long.”

Mantis held her breath for a moment, then slowly, carefully, turned her hand over, gently prying Nebula’s fingers open so she could interlace them with her own. Nebula flinched. Then, she sighed, her shoulders dropping, and they both turned their gaze to the stars.

Back in the bunks, Drax was laid on his back on his comically small bed, staring up at the ceiling, bits of it eroded away from leak damage and other mishaps that Peter claimed gave the Benatar “character”. In the water stain, he could almost see the silhouette of a face, some vague side profile of a person who, if he squinted enough, reminded him of the slope of his wife’s nose, the strength of her chin, the curve of her jawline.

“Do you think of them?” It had been a mission like any other, some trafficking situation gone wrong that the Guardians had been called to, and the two of them were entrusted with dealing with the enemies on the ground, being the most skilled in close combat. The fight was over now, and they were the only ones left standing. Drax had been bent over at the waist while trying to catch his breath; she had kneeled on the ground beside a pile of bodies she’d created, staring at them in a near trance.

Drax had turned to look at her; she hadn’t looked back. “Of who?”

“Your wife and daughter.”

His answer had been immediate. “Always.”

She had smiled sadly, drawing a cloth from her utility belt to wipe away the blood on her sword. Her back had still remained to him. “Peter tells me stories about his mother almost every night before we go to bed. Yet I...I forget my parents’ names sometimes. I forget their laughs, their smiles.”

“This is an odd time and place to be having this conversation,” Drax had pointed out, though not unkindly.

“It makes sense to me.” She had drawn to her full height, storing away both the cloth and her sword, finally turning to face him. There was a splatter of blood across her torso and face, the silver in her cheekbones glinting through it like it was just another layer of warpaint. “Every time I look at all the death I’ve left behind, I think of them. I wonder what they would think of me if they saw who I was, what I’ve become. Do you not do the same?”

“I come from a race of fighters,” he had said, though his answer hadn’t been so quick this time. “War is our norm.”

She had hummed in response, gesturing for him to follow her back to the ship, where the others were waiting. “I’ve been responsible for more deaths than the ones committed by my own hand.”

He had fallen silent, unsure of what to say, thinking back to the very first time they had come face-to-face, her blade to his throat, then his hand wrapped around hers. “You are not the one to blame for my family’s deaths. That was Ronan and Thanos, but it was not you. Never you.” When she didn’t respond, he had grabbed her by the wrist, pulling firmly so she would turn and meet his eyes. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, though still sparked with the defiance that every last person in the galaxy had come to know so well. Then, he had said, quite simply, “As I’ve said before - you are not my enemy, Gamora. You are my friend.”

The sound of the Benatar’s unceremoniously messy landing - more like crashing - pulled Drax out of his dreamlike state. He got to his feet and ran out to join the others in the cockpit, pausing when he saw everyone frozen in their seats, staring out the front window. Only Peter remained emotionally unmoved, his jaw clenched. After all, he was the only one who had known their destination.

The Guardians found themselves looking at the hollowed-out husk of a place that never had glory days, a place still struggling to rebuild after its destruction five years ago, smoke curling around its borders like it was threatening to swallow it whole. Peter cleared his throat. “Well, this was the last place she was spotted. Welcome back to Knowhere.”

a/n: First of all, sorry about this being late! I left on vacation for a week the day after posting the first part and thought I would only need a week to write and edit this part, but I was sick on my flight home and had a bunch of other stuff to catch up on. I hope you enjoyed regardless!

Secondly, this part was a little bit harder for me to write, as I usually explore Drax's character and relationships with others the least, but it was a fun little exercise in exploring these characters I adore so much! And wishful thinking, but I really want Mantis and Gamora to (somehow) have a good friendship going on in Vol. 3.

The next part will be posted next Friday - I'm halfway-ish through writing it so far. Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and see you next time :)

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #endgame spoilers #spoilers #myfic #myfic: bring it home #marvel #sorry this is late! got sick on my flight home #also trying to write a post-endgame scott/hope fic at the same time

[asagimeta]

Teen Wolf 6x08- “Blitzkrieg”- Observations And Predictions

Hello my little glory swords, guess who's dealing with a headache? ... Again... I'm so glad that we finally have Stiles' name concreted in canon proof, and to know that I've been writing it correctly in fics for so long... that does me good freinds, that does me very good

Man that sequence with the yarn and the tacks was INCREDIBLE, I think it's probably one of the best sequences on the entire show, it's just really amazing ok? I'm impressed, although I have to say... in the best Mufasa voice I can manage, "Everything the string touches, becomes reality again"

Ahhh Scott biting Stiles, this is one of those moments where it actually does show Scott's development, remember in 3B when he not-quite-offered to bite Stiles? Let me set up the parallels: 3B- Stiles is right in front of him, very, very likely dieing of the same illness that killed his mother, Scott somewhat hesitantly only says "We'll do something, I'll do something", but he never makes any outright crystal clear promises, and Stiles notices that, the look on his face always reads to me that he doesn't quite believe Scott, remember at this point Scott has never bitten anyone and is rather fresh into Alphahood, there's probably quite a bit of good reason for Stiles' skeptcicism, however, this scene is drastically different, here we have Scott blatantly saying he'll bite Stiles- no hesitation, no room for misinerpertation, no room for doubt, he says it strongly and with convinction that he'll turn Stiles, and this is with the fact that he doesn't even know if he NEEDS to turn Stiles, he doesn't know if there's another way out, but he isn't going to take a chance, he doesn't even completely remember Stiles (something we had confirmed tonight) but he knows enough to know that Stiles is worth it, I know that there's alot of talk about Scott's questionable actions as a freind but it's times like these where I really feel the Sciles

Ofcourse Scott isn't the only one who's jumping on the wolf!Stiles bandwagon, Peter seems especially enthusiastic about Stiles getting The Bite, wich goes to show that for whatever reason, Peter still wants him as a wolf, he wasn't just messing with Scott and his freinds the first time arund and he wasn't just trying to build up an army of teenage werewolves either, he wanted Sties- SPECIFICALLY Stiles and ESPECIALLY Stiles- and what makes me so impressed and curious is just WHY he wants Stiles even though he's no lnoger an Alpha, without Alpha status, how how much use could wolf1Stiles be to Peter? It's such a curious thing to add in... why does Peter still want Stiles to be a wolf?

And that brings me to the other thing, the possibility of wolf!Stiles it's self (because we have to talk about it) I highly doubt that Teen Wolf will do this, if for no other reason simply because it's too easy, it'd be way too easy to just turn Stiles into a wolf and pull him out and then go back for the others later (although I'm glad that Peter pointed out the "So your plan is to bring Stiles back so he can make a plan" thing) but if it DID happen by some weird force of nature it would be so bittersweet to me, on the one hand, Stiles being ANYTHING is better than Stiles staying human (in my personal taste) and it would certainly make things interesting, especially if they ended 6A like that and left it primarily as something to handled in 6B, there are just so many interesting turns this could take, especially with Scott being his Alpha, and even more especially with the anxiety Stiles is already going through surrounding everyon splitting up next year, add being Scott's beta to that... but honestly I do love werewolf!Stiles, I love werewolf!EVERYONE to be honest with you, so I wouldn't really be that dissappointed.... on the other hand though, man, the wasted potential of magic!Stiles.... that would crush my soul, let me tell you, it would just seem so cheap too as an entirety... I'd still rather it than human!Stiles though

So it is now confirmed in canon that as long as there's even one other non-banshee person left in Beacon Hills, the Hunt can't move on, I'm pretty sure we already knew that but it's now confirmed in canon so I just thought I should point it out

When did all of the other Beacon Hills natives get captured? I mean did I miss something or.. or were most of them there when the episode ended...?

Ok now THIS I legitimately found interesting, when Dug left after Melissa agreed to help him get Parrish, I originally thought he said "Heil Argent" and ofcourse me first thought about THAT is how much it sounded like "Hale Argent", wich I would have had alot to say on, but it turns out according to the meta chat that it was actually "Herr Argent", and according to Google, "Herr" means "Lord" in German- interesting, Lord Argent.... ofcourse I read also that it could just mean Mister wich makes alot more sense and makes this alot less fun so there's that

Poor baby Mason.... just one of the many heartaches from tonight, but I'm glad that they found Corey's phone, even though it begs the question of how, did they just stumble upon it randomly, pick it up, and go "Oh hey look my boyfreind's phone!" or..??

So the question about the rift... is it always there, permenanately, or does it just come and go with the riders? Because it sounds on the one hand like it's a one place sort of deal, what with Lydia saying that since the rift was closed there wouldn't be another chance, but on the other hand it seems very... odd... at the same time, shouldn't the rift open up in different places? Is it always there even when the Hunt isn't? I'm just... very confused about rift-related things in general

I'm really dissappointed that Liam broke the sword to be honest, I mean ... Theo is the kind of gamble that they've won too many times you know? Like how you keep playing the same cycle of scratch-off tickets, eventually your luck will run out, and although he provided *some* information, it really wasn't good enough to warrant the sword being broken in my opinion, especially since, with the way he was gripping the bars of the cell, it looks like he's about to bust out of there at any moment, I do wonder if we'll see the sword getting somehow repaired at any point, maybe that's how Kira will get reintroduced (though if that's the case it won't be until late next season, we know Arden isn't in 6A, we know she isn't in the beginning of 6B either) It just seemed like he gambled way too much for something that he probably could have done without

Everytime we get a new canon species, my heart warms just a little bit more... I love getting new species ok? And a wolf-lion? A freaking wolf-lion? That sounds AWESOME, that means that somewhere out there is just your regular ol' lion shapeshifting species right? I love that there doesn't seem to be a real limit to the mythology in terms of shapeshifters, like if it's an animal it can be a shapeshifter, that's really neat, I do wish though that they would expand a little more on other areas of mythology before the series ends- like the faery realm and such, because otherwise banshees and druids stick out a little more in my opinion (oh who am I kidding? I want an entire beastiary of canon beasties in this show before it ends)

I have to say, the fact that it was, atleast in part, Ghost Rider venom that brought back the chimera kids is really interesting and makes alot of sense, considering the Hunt is using the ghost mythology rather than the faery mythology* it could make sense that they'd have some minor control over the afterlife and states of death vs life, and if it's manipulated and ferminted and combined with other random juices it could easily be a "bring back" serum, I'd just like to know what those other juices *are* and I wonder if anyone will try to recreate them and bring back the dead, in fact, I wonder if that could be a plot point for 6B, someone dies and everyone else tries to recreate the bring back serum to bring them back, and obviously they succeed but with........... side effects ;) Or maybe they try to bring back someone who's been dead for a long time and we get zombies, trouble is I don't really know who that would be, I don't really think they'd put in the effort for anyone but Allison and I can't see Crystal returning to play her for the end of the show, plus she's been dead for quite a wile and that would be... I mean... that'd be more like Walking Dead level undead you know what I mean? It is interesting to think about though, regardless

So Dug really is part Ghost Rider and that ISN'T just because he ate the peneal gland, wich ofcourse brings into question the entire theory behind the gland munching to begin with, if he isn't chomping down glands to become some kind of super hybrid, then why IS he eating them? It seems now that he only killed that Rider to get his weapon and the gland was just a light snack for the road, rather than the gland being the point and the wip being the extra prize at the end, also, is .. is his goal really just a spin off on the "take over the world" concept? That's so inspiringly unoriginal dude.....

I have to admit, I didn't see Melissa going into the next dimension, I figured that Chris would but I wasn't expecting Melissa, I'm guessing this is going to be a prime reason why Scott's "bite and run" plan is going to fail, there's no way he would bite his mom, so that means they'll have to go to a plan B

How are Parrish's eyes green? I thought that was a Ghost Rider Exclusive LED? Or is it that anyone in the Hunt can have them? Wich, I guess that would make sense, but if it IS exclusive to riders then does that mean that Parrish is part rider...?

I'll be very glad to see Corey and Mason reunite honestly, I mean, I wish we could, sadly I feel like we won't, it looks like next week is still going to be in the Real World, we probably won't get to go back to the train station until episode ten, since that's what Dylan shot for last (and wile I'm on the subject, we still have no word on when Teen Wolf will continue filming 6B yet, considering it's well after the holidays now I would say it's safe to consider the possibility that they might not go back to filming until spring)

Now here's an interesting thing, I kept hoping that when one of the hunters dropped his gun we would see Lydia pick it up and shoot him- I mean that's what I would have done- so if hunters get hit with their own weapons... what happens to them? Do they die? Do they get released from the eternal hunt (wich I guess is the same as dieing?)? Do they just .. go back to the train station and have to get another one? Do they revert back to the people they used to be? THAT is an answer I actually would really really love to see play out, I feel like the dropped gun was good foreshadowing that we'll see someone attempt it at some point but I'm not sure when or how or... even if it'll do anything, sadly, I think it'd be neat if they reverted back to the people they used to be though, it'd be a good way to defeat them without "killing" them and disrupting the mythology

And Hayden joins the other side... really saw that one coming I have to say

Sheriff trying to convince Claudia hurts my heart, that entire scene was heart-breaking and I know everyone knows it, but I'm going to take this moment to readdress a question I got earlier about Claudia being a Tulpa and the sheriff's power to create her, because there's something I forgot to mention, not only is Claudia more well developed than Caleb because she isn't glitchy and is able to establish a pretty firm amount of free will, but she's also capable of making him forget the truth, atleast to some degree, she was able to erase the contents of Stiles' room just by stepping inside of it, and I don't think this is something all Tulpas can do, I don't think it's something Caleb could have done, wich just brings me back to this: Either the sheriff manifested one HELL of a Tulpa and is definately Something..... or Claudia isn't a Tulpa at all and we've been riding Lydia's incorrect skirt tails, I could honestly believe either

So a Hellhound can get through the rift, unsurprisingly, but there's something else I took away from this scene.... is it just me, or is Lydia calling Parrish "Jordan" like.... a new thing....? *wispers MARRISH into the wind*

I'm so proud of the sheriff for keeping a relic of Stiles', it does make me wonder though, if he hadn't kept that photo, would he have gone back under Claudia's spell and forgotten Stiles entirely? His story about Claudia's last good day though... man that is one of the most depressing things I've heard in a long, long time.... I'm so proud of him for accepting the truth though, good on you Sheriff, good on you

I noticed that Stiles' room is still behind a wall though, I wonder if his room will go back to normal when Stiles gets back or if they're going to have to nock the wall out and move the room back upstairs.... *cough*

I wonder why the Hunt wanted Scott and Malia dead instead of kidnapped, it can't be that they ran out of room or something considering they took Peter back (boy they must REALLY want Peter) and they DID take Mason, Melissa, Chris, Hayden.. so why did they just want to flat-out KILL Scott and Malia? It can't be anything against werewolves because again- Peter, so what gives?

I'm not at all surprised that the Hunt obeys banshees, I feel like Lydia is definately going to be needed in retreiving everyone from the other side, atleast... she SHOULD be, that might be too easy though I suppose...

I'm so happy that Mieczyslaw is his name! .. I'll.. have to get used to spelling it that way though because honestly I've been spellin it Mziscislaw all this time... *cough* BUT REGARDLESS IT'S STILL SWORD OF GLORY AND THAT IS ///MAJESTIC/// OK? It's really amazing, I'm so excited that this little bit of fanfiction truth has made it's way into the show, and you know that Mieczyslaw meaning Sword Of Glory HAS to mean something for Stiles as a charector, something... like... him being a savior and magical for example... *cough* Also, as a sidenote here, Mischeif is a REALLY REALLY adorable name for a kid ok? I have a baby name list that's just pages long and that sucker is going right on there... not that I'd really ever use it though because I'm one of those people who fully believe in kids living up to their names and let me promise you that on the list of things I do not need a child who's life goal is to create mischeif is right at the top

And finally, this portally ghost Stiles thingy that broke my soul, atleast it confirms that Scott, Malia, and Lydia don't really remember *STILES* as much as the *IDEA* of Stiles, finally settles that debate, or atleast what they do remember of Stiles as a person is considerablly less than a full memory, someone asked if they would be able to conjure up this new rift because Stiles is magic and remembering him activates that power, and wile I don't personally think this is going to happen I'm certianly not ruling it out, pretty much any Magic!Stiles theory is a freind of mine, I just hope atleast one of them becomes canon

#Teen Wolf #season six speculation

[heliosfinance]

Notes from Howard Marks’ Lecture: 48 Most Important Things I Learned on Investing

“If you were to read just five books in your life to become a sensible investor,” I often suggest people seeking my view, “…they have to be Warren Buffett’s letters, Poor Charlie’s Almanack, Peter Lynch’s One Up on Wall Street, Ben Graham’s The Intelligent Investor, and Howard Marks’ memos.”

Well, if you don’t know who Howard Marks is, let me tell you he is the CEO of Oaktree Capital and is one of the most famous investors who manages to keep a low profile, despite managing almost US$ 100 billion. Marks is also the author of an amazing book – The Most Important Thing: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor. In its ultimate praise, Warren Buffett writes, “This is that rarity, a useful book”.

I have been reading and re-reading Marks’ memos for a few years now, so was very fortunate to attend a lecture he gave in Mumbai yesterday titled – The Truth About Investing.

It was an enlightening session, just to be in the presence of this legend and hear him out live.

I made some notes from Marks’ lecture, which I present below (most of these are direct quotes from Marks). He calls these lessons as the “brutal truths” of investing. As you would realize while reading the notes, these indeed are brutal truths – stuff that is easier said than done.

Marks concluded his lecture saying what Charlie Munger recently told him – “Investing is not supposed to be easy, and anybody who finds it easy is stupid.”

So I don’t want to feel stupid telling you that what you will read below is easy. But then, in case we are able to practice most of what is written below at most times, we would raise the probability of achieving success in our investment decision making.

Over to Marks and his brutal truths I heard from him yesterday.

On Dangers of Excessive Risk Taking

Keynes said the markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent. That’s especially true of leveraged investors. That’s the danger of leverage.

There are old investors, and there are bold investors, but there are no old bold investors.

Ego, hubris, and overconfidence are killers of investment returns.

Never confuse brains with a bull market.

In investing, to succeed you must survive.

On Fallacy of Forecasting

Two kind of forecasters – one who don’t know, and one who don’t know they don’t know. You must decide which are you.

Most investors act as if they can see the future. Either they think they can, or they must, or they try to. In my experience, they can’t.

Nothing is more common than investors who are right for the wrong reasons.

Investors would be wise to accept that they cannot see the future and they should restrict themselves to doing things that are within their powers.

We can make decisions not based on what we think could happen in the future, but based on what’s happening today.

The most important choice that any investor can make in the intermediate term is whether to be aggressive or defensive. Not whether it’s stocks or bonds. Not whether is a developed market or an emerging market. But whether it’s a good time to be aggressive, or it’s time to be defensive. And I believe this distinction can be made on the basis of observations regarding the current situation. They do not require guesswork about the future.

On Humility

Very few investors have the nerve to say, “I don’t know.” But that’s how you build integrity in your investment process.

If you start with “I don’t know,” then you are unlikely to act so boldly as to get into trouble.

Our business is full of people who got famous for being right once in a row.

One of the reasons why the future is unknowable is randomness. Events often fail to materialize as we think they should. Improbable things happen all the time.

Anytime you think you know something others don’t, you should examine the basis. Ask yourself – Who doesn’t know better? Why should I be privy to exceptional information? How do I know this that nobody else knows? Am I really that smart, or am I just wrong? Am I certain that I am right and everyone else is wrong? If it’s an advice from some else, ask – Why would somebody give me potentially valuable information? And why would he give it to me? And why is he still working for a living if he knows the future so well? I am always skeptical of people who will tell you the future for five dollars.

The concept of market efficiency – that price of each asset accurately reflects its underlying intrinsic value, or that the market price is fair – must not be ignored. You can know something and it’s possible to know more than others. But the going in presumption should be that everybody is well-informed, and if you think you know something they don’t, you should be able to express the reason for that. It’s not easy, because everyone is trying just as hard as you are.

On Keys to Success in Investing

You can know more than others about companies and industries if you work very hard and if they are not fully followed. This is the knowable. You can control your emotions. That’s very important. And you can behave in a contrarian and counter-cyclical manner. I think these are the keys to success in the investment business, not predictions of the macro future.

While we never know where we are going, macro wise or market direction wise, we should have a good sense of where we are. I think this is very important. And it is possible to enhance your investment results by making practical decisions suited to the market climate.

Superior results do not come from buying high quality assets but from buying assets regardless of quality for less than their worth. That is the most dependable way to achieve success as an investor. And it is essential to understand this difference.

If you are investing based on a fact that everybody knows, it can’t possibly constitute an advantage and it can’t possibly have been omitted from the price. So, you must have some knowledge that is different from that of others. The challenge is most of the time the consensus is about right. So, if you have a lifetime of making predictions that are different, you will make a lot of mistakes. You have to be different and better, and that’s hard.

Being right is not the criterion and it is not necessarily profitable. You have to be just more right than others.

In investing, one way to gain an advantage over others is by ignoring the noise that is created by the constant, manic stream of opinions and by focusing on things that matter in the long run. Is it better to be right in the short term but wrong in the long term? Or vice versa? Clearly, what matters is being right in the long run. And we can all live with some failures in the short run in the interest of being right in the long run.

On Price Vs Value

A low purchase price not only creates the opportunity for gain but it also limits the downside risk. So you can enhance return and reduce risk by buying assets where the value is solid and the price is low. The bigger the discount, the greater the margin of safety. And that is something that is highly desirable for people who want to control risk in their portfolios.

The price of a security at a given time reflects the consensus value. The big gains arise when the consensus turns out to have underestimated reality, or to have mis-estimated reality. To be able to take advantage of such situations, you must be able to think in a way that’s away from the consensus. You must think different and you must think better. It’s clear that if you think the same as everybody else, you’ll act the same as everybody else, and have the same results as everybody else.

On Patience

Sometimes there are plentiful opportunities for unusual returns with low risks, like after the meltdown of Lehman Brothers (2008). And sometimes the opportunities are fewer and risky. It’s important to wait patiently for the former. You should not act the same regardless of the market environment. You should turn aggressive when things are low, and defensive when things are high.

When there’s nothing clever to do, it’s a mistake to try to be clever.

On Role of Behaviour

It isn’t the inability to see the future that cripples most investors. More often, it is emotions. Investors swing like pendulum between fear and greed, and between euphoria and depression, and between disbelief and skepticism. Usually they swing in the wrong direction. They want things after they have risen. And they shun things after they have fallen. This is human nature, and this is one of the greatest enemies of investment returns.

Most investors behave pro-cyclically not counter-cyclically. And it is to their detriment. It is essential to act counter-cyclically.

Cyclical ups and down do not go forever, but at extremes the investors act as if they will.

There are three stages of a bull market –

In the first stage, only a few exceptional people begin to realize that things are improving;

In the second stage, most people believe improvement is actually taking place; and

In the third stage, everybody thinks that things can only get better

The attractiveness of a stock’s price is dependent on how much optimism there is in the price. So, in the first stage, there is no optimism, and that’s a great time to buy. In the third stage, there is only optimism, and that’s a great time to avoid buying. But, of course, few people buy in the first stage and most people buy in the third stage. As Warren Buffett says – “First the innovator, then the imitator, then the idiot.” How I like to say this is what the wise man does in the beginning the fool does on the end. And this is one of the most important lessons in investing.

Markets are riskiest when there is a widespread belief there is no risk. This makes investors believe that it’s safe to do risky things.

In investing, the behaviour of participants alters the landscape (George Soros’s concept of ‘reflexivity’). If people find a bargain, they’ll raise the price so that it isn’t a bargain anymore. It’s not good to assume that the market that offered you bargains in the past will also offer you bargains in the future. And the one thing we must not do is extrapolate asset prices.

Of the most corrosive of all the difficult human emotions is the feeling to sit by and watch other people make money. Nobody likes that. You don’t like it at 60, you don’t like it at 80, you don’t like it at 100, but when it hits 150, you say, “Okay, I’ll get on board.” And that’s usually closer to the top than it was to the bottom.

To be a disciplined investor, you have to be willing to stand by and watch other people make money that you passed on. You don’t have to invest in everything. You don’t have to catch every trend. You should invest in the things you know about.

Success is not good for most people. We all know of people who have been successful that makes them think they are smart, and they have the ability to do everything. Of course, that’s a very dangerous thing.

Every investment approach, even if sensibly applied, will run into environments in which it is not suited. Buy and hold, growth stocks, value stocks, small stocks, large stocks. And that means even the best of investors will have periods of poor performance. Nobody performs great all the time.

Investors have to be able to weather periods when the results are embarrassing. This can be very difficult.

The more you try to be a superior investor, the more idiosyncratic positions you have to take. Invariably they will be unsuccessful for a while, and you will look worse, and the greater will be the pressures to succumb.

Everybody must invest in a way that is consistent to their personalities. And for a mild-mannered person to be a big risk-taker is bound to lead to failure.

In investing it’s very important that expectations be reasonable. Aiming too high will either require excessive risk bearing or guaranteed disappointment, or both. And as Peter Bernstein has said, the market is not an accommodating machine. It wouldn’t give you high returns just because you want.

On Importance of Process

To be a successful investor, you must have a philosophy and a process that you stick to even when the times get tough. This is very important.

If you don’t have the courage of your conviction and patience and toughness, you can’t be an investor because you’ll constantly be driven to fall in line with the consensus by buying at the top and selling at the bottom. But it’s important to know that no approach will allow you to profit from all kinds of opportunities in all environments. You have to be willing not to participate in everything that goes up, and only the things that fit your approach.

Other Most Important Things

Success carries in itself the seeds of failure. Failure carries in itself the seeds of success.

Being too far ahead of your time is indistinguishable from being wrong.

The average investor does average, by definition, before fee. And below average, after fee.

Index funds eliminate the risk of underperforming the average (broader market) but when markets go down, they guarantee you will lose as well. So, no one should think that passive investing is low risk.

Charlie Munger told be that investing is not supposed to be easy, and anybody who finds it easy is stupid.

These are all the notes I have from Marks’ lecture. To read them deeper, I would suggest you to read his memos, and of course his book – The Most Important Thing: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor

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