Latest Posts by obsessedwithmarvelbecausewhynot - Page 2

Peter: "Go hang a salami" backwards is "I'm a lasagna hog". Natasha: How did either of those sentences occur naturally for you to discover this?

loki doesnt want to be alone but he also wants his friends to be able to live their lives. he wants everyone to live so badly that he spends centuries learning high level science, repeats the end of the world over and over and watches his friends disappear constantly, refuses to let the world die because without the timeline, everyone would be alone. nobody would be anything. so he sacrifices living his life, he not only becomes the sacred timeline but turns it into something ever-growing, yggdrasil supports the universe and if he has to do it, if he has to be alone so that everyone can be together, than so be it. because, as mobius said: "most purpose is more burden than glory."

Tony: What the hell is that in your face?

Peter: It’s my angry expression!

Tony: This isn’t an expression…it’s an accident

Being around Tony stark can take a toll on you, some have to toughen up their skin to endure Tonys remarks, some just drift away from him, not wanting to deal with it.

But Peter?

No he's adapted.

Every snarky remark, and name Peter would be told, he just came back even stronger

"did you seriously forget to do your homework? Again? Don't you have enhanced..everything?"

"Mr stark, If we wanna talk irresponsible, let's talk about the time it seemingly crossed your mind to tell your loved ones you were dying because of the shrapnel in your chest." Peter snarked back

Tony stood frozen, his jaw dropped.

"well..fuck." Tony mumbled trying to contain l laughter at how sudden Peter came up with something like that.

Or another time.

"Peter, let me get you some new shoes." Tony pleaded

Peter sucked on his lollipop and squinted at Tony

"what? No why." Peter asked seemingly shocked

"because they're ratty. And old. And they look like they're gonna fall off or disintegrate at any given time." Tony answered crossing his arms

"why do you even keep them around?" The older one asked completely confused

"your ratty, old and likely to be on your death bed in a few years, why do we keep you around?" Peter snarked back raising an eyebrow.

Rhodey who was just passing through to grab some coffee was howling with laughter doubling over to clutch his stomach.

Sometimes it's not even directed at Tony.

"how do we even know we can trust the kid, he's unreliable" Sams eyes narrowed his voice harsh, but Steve nodded anyways

"I agree with Sam, recruiting a child would be very irresponsible."

Peter who was swinging on his chair, now paying attention in the meeting with the avengers turns to Steve and sam

"oh lord.." Tony muttered as rhodey tried to hide the smug, fond look on his face

"dude, you are 2 times my age, stop complaining and just admit that being an old man is getting to you, plus I can hear your knees snap like glow sticks when you crouch down. it's gross. Also who in this room has 1. A weird bird suit, and 2. Doesn't." Peter finished crossing his arms mirroring Tony. Alot.

"did I just get insulted by a toddler." Sam muttered

Peter is a sassy kid.

Peter is Tony's sassy kid.

My boys <3

New intern: here you go Mr stark,

goes to hand something to tony

Tony: I don't like getting handed-

Peter: grabs whatever the intern was holding

Peter: thank you, josh!

New intern: your welcome, mini stark.

The intern walks off as Tony just looks at Peter astounded

Tony: mini stark?

Clint coming out the vents

Clint: oh yeah..everyone in the tower thinks he's your son.

Tony: and you guys haven't thought to correct them?

Clint: honestly..we though so too.

Peter: me too.

Tony: PETER?!-

Tony, in a spider-man hoodie, spider-man fuzzy socks, and holding a spider-man mug: Peter left for college 34 days, 9 hours, and 45 minutes ago

Steve: Do you want to talk about it? I know how much you miss him—

Tony: Are you kidding I hope that idiot never comes back

Tony: Oh look now it’s 46 minutes

so spiderman is usually called “insect” as an insult. like he’s a pest or something

but you all are SLEEPING on the idea of peter being called a bug *affectionately*

like imagine peter parker recovering from a big fight and tony stark just tells him “you did good, bug”

AND LIKE??? come on that’s such a father son moment for them

Clint: Tony will never agree to this plan.

Peter: Sure he will!

Natasha: He's already refused three times.

Peter: Okay watch the master at work

Peter, turning to Tony with puppy dog eyes: can we-

Tony: yes.

Tony helping Stephen to sleep? Hope you have fun at con!!

Con was awesome! And you have reminded me that I need to blot my face out of some photos so that I can share. 😀  Plus, the swag report! Although most of the swag is for another fandom, because there’s not much Stephen stuff out there (though I did get two things!). 

Anyway, ficlet!

-

There was something particularly awful about a nightmare that prevented you from sleeping. At least if the damn thing woke Stephen up he’d gotten a couple of hours. At least if his dreaming mind inflicted it on him, it was involuntary. But to lie there, awake, and still be thinking about it was infuriating. Which did not make sleeping any easier.

Sighing, Stephen sat up and pulled on a dressing gown. Maybe a hot drink would help him relax. Or some reading.

But when his bedroom door swung open, Wong was standing on the threshold, arms crossed. Stephen did <i>not</i> jump. “Wong! What are you doing?”

“Making sure that you sleep.”

Stephen groaned, rubbing at sore eyes. “If I could, I would.”

“You know what will help,” Wong said, unmoved.

Stephen flushed, but didn’t try to pretend he didn’t understand. They’d both lost patience with that song and dance. “He’s not a sleep aid. And it’s two in the morning.”

Wong raised his hands and started casting a portal.

“What are you doing?!” Stephen yelped.

“Countering your objections,” Wong said. 

The portal bloomed open, revealing Tony’s workshop. The man himself was sprawling in a rolling chair, looking up at projected blueprints. He didn’t seem at all surprised when he turned to look through the portal. “Nightmare?”

Wong answered before Stephen could. “Nightmares would require him to sleep at all.”

Stephen shot Wong a glare before turning to Tony. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Hey, I meant it when I said any time,” Tony said. “You got pajamas I can borrow, or should I grab some?”

“I have some,” Stephen said. He refused to look at Wong even as Tony stepped through the portal and Stephen felt the tension easing out of his neck and shoulders and… well, everything. 

Later, head resting on Tony’s chest, the man’s heart beating reassuringly in his ear, eyes already drooping, Stephen decided that this was worth Wong’s inevitable ‘I told you so.’

Maybe even a few times over.

“When everything you touch turns to gold”

Tony being covered in molten gold

@ the TVA

Loki: ATTENTION: I HAVE BREACHED CONTAINMENT.

Loki: DO NOT PANIC, I AM SIMPLY GETTING A SNACK.

Landing on top of Sam, then rolling off with this expression on your face?? Sir?? 🤨

Et Tu, Kid?

Tony couldn’t believe this was happening.

The kid he thought of as his own was sitting across him, looking him dead in the eye. There was nothing binding him, but Tony felt like he might as well be chained to the chair he was sitting on.

“Come on, kid. You don’t have to do this,” he said, a faint pleading undertone making his weak voice shake.

Peter didn’t reply. Instead, a corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a tiny smirk.

The others weren’t much of a help either. Pepper was frozen, holding her breath. Rhodey’s eyes were darting all around the room, but otherwise didn’t move a muscle. Clint’s gaze was sliding from Peter to Tony. Steve shifted in his seat. Natasha had that calculating look in her eyes, as if she was planning everything ten steps ahead. Which was quite possible.

“Peter, listen. This isn’t you! You have to fight it. Please!”

Without breaking eye contact, Peter moved his hand, slow and precise, like a predator that knew his prey had nowhere to run.

“Don’t,” Tony softly pleaded.

This time, a full grin spread across the kid’s face. His fingers gripped the edge and he struck in one fast, merciless move.

The +4 card landed on the pile of cards with almost deafening thud. Well, at least to Tony.

“Uno,” Peter said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That’s it. I’m disowning you,” Tony grumbled as he drew four cards. He was so close to victory! “Next time we’re playing Monopoly, I’m letting Pepper bankrupt you.”

Peter, in a true, mature way, stuck his tongue out at Tony.

“Unbelievable. My own kid. Does your treachery know any bounds?”

“Nope.”

Rhodey looked at the skip card Natasha – much to Steve’s dismay – put down, and added a yellow 7 onto the pile. “Who would’ve thought game nights could get this intense.”

The yellow reverse Clint put down didn’t bring a smile to Pepper and her last card’s face. Steve, not having any yellow, had to draw a card from the deck. Natasha put down a wild card, leaving her with two.

“Mr. Stark, please no.”

But Tony didn’t listen. He was transfixed by the display: the wild card, and his own green +2. “You should’ve thought of that earlier,” he said breathlessly and put the card down.

Peter scoffed, offended. “I can’t believe you’ve done that.”

“I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“I always liked Pepper more.”

“Oh, so it’s like that, huh?”

“Okay, how about we play Twister instead,” Steve made a peace offering.

“Against these two that can practically twist themselves into pretzels?!” Tony cried out, pointing at Peter and Natasha. “Only if they’re spinning.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tony. You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re saying that only because you want to play Monopoly.”

“I thought Monopoly was supposed to be the game that breaks families apart, not Uno” Clint commented and put his two last 4s down. “Oh hey, I win!”

I HAVE A FIC IDEA vol.10

Tony tries to get Peter to call him by his first name. Peter hits him with "the only way I'll ever call adults by their first name is adding "uncle/aunt" before that."

Tony somehow despises the idea. He also has no idea why that is.

Kate: I just kept talking, I couldn’t stop!

Clint: Isn’t that, I dunno, life for you?

🤤

Mini loki 🧎🏻‍♀️

🧍🏻🤏

*texting*

Mj: do you ever wanna take your heart out and squeeze the emotions away and then put it back in your chest so you'll feel less emotions

Peter: ...

Peter: I'm coming over

Love this

Clint: all my kids are little spoons. Are you the big spoon or the little?

Peter: I am the spiderman!

Tony: actually he is freaking octopus, but sometimes can be the little spoon.

Nobody:

Absolutely no one:

Kate just accidentally setting the training room on fire: Oops?

Clint, who just knew that special fire arrows are bad idea: Tony's gonna kill me.

Tony, being used to it because Peter blows up their lab every day: Kids.

Tony: *pours coffee onto his spanner* shit. Thats not my mug

FRIDAY: boss. It has been 49 hours since you last slept more than 6 consecutive hours. May I recommend you get some sleep?

Tony: I'm fine, 6 hours is a long time, when was the last time I got any sleep?

FRIDAY: you got appriximately 5 minutes of sleep 26 hours ago sir

Tony: ...good enough for me

FRIDAY: may I recommend you get some rest before Miss Potts is made aware of this?

Tony: I didn't make no snitch, keep your damn mouth shut

apparently the Still Not Funny deleted scene is about Bucky ‘bringing a treat to Sam's family gathering’, and after talking to @logicheartsoul about it, i obvs had to write something

It was a joke.

Sam’d—very casually, if he’d say so himself—invited Bucky to the cookout. He’d been trying to relax into Bucky’s lone armchair, the TV on and playing something he’d never seen before.

Bucky, who had been sitting on the ground and leaning into the side of the chair, had froze, very minutely, then relaxed, asked what he should bring.

Sam had, very dryly, said, “Ice cream cake,” because Bucky’d tried to make them breakfast that morning and almost burned the eggs to a crisp. Sam was just being cautious, and yeah, okay, maybe also a little shit, but mostly cautious.

Bucky, the biggest little shit to have ever existed, took it personally, apparently, because here he was now, sunglasses on, wearing Sam’s Henley, driving Sam’s truck and joking with Sam’s nephews, carrying a lopsided ice cream cake that was very bravely fighting for its life in the heat of the afternoon.

Sam’s stupid, stupid heart did a stupid, stupid somersault.

He went on taking pictures and joking around and filling up his plate, feeling light and happy and on the edge of something wonderful, then Bucky was close, sunglasses hanging from the collar of his—Sam’s—Henley, his cheeks a bright red from the setting sun.

“Hey,” he said, voice light and so soft.

“Hey yourself.”

“Want a piece of cake?”

Sam gave him a flat look. “You’re not funny.”

Bucky’s smile went bigger, brighter, like he immediately knew what Sam was talking about.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he said.

“You’re full of shit,” Sam said, “and, still not funny. You’re not funny.”

“I just couldn’t come empty-handed, Samuel, I have manners.”

“You brought an ice cream cake.”

“It was a no-brainer, honestly.”

Sam rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile, then he turned back to watch the gentle waves and the sky as it changed colors.

The music was dying down, the day slowing and easing into the evening. Bucky was still standing just a step behind him, and Sam could feel his eyes on him.

His heart skipped a little as Bucky knocked his knuckles against his shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, so soft once again.

And Sam turned, gave into the urge and wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him closer.

Bucky came easily, his warmth seeking into Sam’s alright sun-warmed body, until it was almost too much.

He didn’t pull away.

It had started like a joke. Here and there with rhodey and pepper making comments like "wow tony. your a dad!"

Tony would laugh them off, a joke in his mind as Peter would shrink away from the attention with a nervous giggle.

It just wasn't one of those days, unfortunately for Peter.

They both were tinkering in the lab, Tony working on the repulsors while Peter worked on his webshooters,

Peter blabbered on about who knows what as the other scientist took concentrated sips from his cup of coffee, a migraine starting to form

"kid, maybe-"

Peter couldn't hear him as he rambled on

"and then he flipped in the air, can you believe it, dad?.. oh." Peters face flushed in embarrassment

And Tony just couldn't take it

"I am not your Dad!" He slammed the wrench down making Peter violently flinch tears in his eyes as he stared at Tony, wide eyed.

Tony ragged breaths were all they could hear in the lab before Peter spoke up

...

"...I know."

With that Peter stood up quickly the metal stool making a slight screeching sound making tony cringe.

Before the older one knew it, Peter was gone. The innocent one, the sunshine to Tony's cloudy day, was gone. Pushing past his way to the elevator with tears in his eyes.

A beginning of a fic I’ve written in my head but too lazy to actually write #give loki a good found family. The outline of the full story is here

The fic takes place straight after Loki’s fall when he lands on Tatooine. Post ‘Thor’ 2011, post ‘The Book of Boba Fett’. Unreliable narrator!

Falling.

Shining rainbow becomes a dot.

And then – nothing.

Just – nothing.

The Void between the worlds is black. Not like the darkest night, not like ink – there’s nothing to see. Not a tiniest bit of any light. Loki cannot even see his own hand – it is stretched out? Or not there at all? He cannot feel it – cannot feel his own body… has it even been his own, though?

Loki cannot breathe. Does he even need to? He doesn’t feel his chest rising and falling, he doesn’t feel his own heartbeat. He cannot hear anything. And it’s not the eardrum pressure of the Bifrost – there’s just nothing to hear. No sound. Is he trying to speak? Scream? He doesn’t know. He cannot feel his own movements.

All he really comprehends is the voice in his head, repeating the end of his life over and over.

‘No, Loki’.

Not worthy of love. Not good enough in the eyes of his father. An evil little shadow of his glorious shining brother.

‘No, Loki’.

Only a couple of days – and Thor is forgiven for everything he presumably did wrong. A couple of days on Midgard – and now he is ready to lay aside his centuries-long hatred and contempt for the Jotuns and protect them. A couple of days in a company of a pretty woman – and he’s worthy of love and throne and respect again. A true son of Asgard.

‘No, Loki’.

Not you.

Thor has changed and is on his way to become a true king – but not because of your centuries-long attempts to make him better. But because of just a weekend with a woman he’s in love with. Of course, her influence is much more potent than his own brother’s.

Not brother’s.

Never was.

Loki wants to feel righteous rage… hurt… anything at all. But instead – numbness. Nothingness. Inside and outside of him. What’s the point of feelings, anyway? All that exists is nothing. Darkness. Weightlessness. Is he falling seconds? Centuries? Is he even falling? Is he still alive?

Loki doesn’t want to be anymore.

Yellow.

Numbness inside of him twitches.

Bleary yellowish spots in the darkness.

Becoming closer. A pull of gravity feels stronger and stronger.

Gravity?

Must be some space body. A planet? A star?

Loki doesn’t think it’s a star. He cannot see well – everything is blurred, he cannot distinguish the shape – but it’s not hot, not bursting with flames.

He summons all the magic he has, encasing himself in it and preparing for the entering the atmosphere – if there will be any. Not that he has any further plans – he feels like he isn’t capable of thinking anymore. All that remains is his survival instinct.

And then – heat envelops him. He tugs on his magic tighter and squeezes his eyes shut. Feeling of falling becomes much more prominent, and he hates every second of it.

But a feeling of something is glorious.

The sound of him piercing the air deafens him.

But he can hear again.

The impact of the landing makes his head ring and creates a cloud of… sand? Yes, yellow sand erupts around him. Loki feels particles of it covering his hands and face with a hot veil. And it feels. Just… feels. Oppressive air fills the lungs, Loki tries to breathe with a full chest, and it hurts as nine hells, just like the rest of his body, but he feels again.

For a second Loki is happy. It feels nice to be alive.

And he blacks out.

---

A sliver of light.

Sounds. Voices?

A feeling of movement. Transportation. Hardness behind his aching back. Smell of something greasy, machine oil and old clothes.

Chill.

Loki tries to open his eyes. Barely manages – it’s like an impossibly heavy task.

Tries to move his arms and legs – they’re as if made of uru metal.

The head is dizzy, he hurts all over. His eyes can hardly see – they got used to pitch darkness (‘No, Loki’… ). But he recognizes some kind of a room full of unidentifiable items scattered all over. A group of small hooded creatures is huddled together talking in half-babbling half-chittering language Loki cannot yet understand – he isn’t able to put his own thoughts into words, much less grasp speech of someone else. He tries and his head hurts more.

They saved him?

Loki looks down and realizes why he feels chilly. He has no armour, no weapons. Only his inner tunic remains unscavenged. Even his trousers are robbed of metal pieces, and his boots are also absent. He sees his daggers in the hands of the creatures – they twirl them, obviously discussing. Not going to give them back.

Loki stretches his hand and summons them.

Or tries.

The daggers barely move. Several items on the table nearby fall. The creatures jump and gasp, look at Loki with their glowing eyes from their hoods. Loki feels nauseous and helpless. Even his magic betrays him.

And then he loses consciousness again.

---

Next time Loki awakens, he’s in water. The liquid blurs everything around, it’s impossible to orient. A breathing mask fills his mouth and nose. But he landed in a desert… where does water come from?

Wait.

A mask.

Someone put him there.

Fear squeezes his heart.

He tries to stretch his arms forward, and his hands land on a cool barrier.

Panic is like a rising tide – almost chokes him. He pushes his hands desperately, and the barrier flies open. Loki sits abruptly, water splashes around him. He pulls the mask out of his mouth, and medical smell fills his nose, the same taste lingers on his tongue. Not water, then. Heartrate slows down, panic curling in his belly like a wild cat ready to jump.

He rubs his eyes and looks around.

A spacious room of stone. Sunlight – he didn’t know he would miss sunlight – falls through the window, and Loki notices two suns. He’s in some kind of a tank with medical equipment attached to it. He’s naked albeit a small towel around his hips. There’s a robot nearby, but it doesn’t move.

All memories of… yesterday?... fill Loki’s head.

The fight on the Bridge.

‘For you! For all of us!’

‘No, Loki’.

Thor’s shouts and an outstretched hand as if he’s trying to catch him.

Falling.

Shining rainbow becomes a dot.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Sand.

Scavengers.

And – here.

His head is surprisingly clear, as if after a long and nice sleep, considering all confusing events before. His body doesn’t hurt anymore. He reaches for his magic – still weak. He feels weak.

Loki guesses this is what the tank is for – healing.

But what for should he be healed? He doesn’t have any purpose. Doesn’t want to live. (Or does he? – memories of the marvelous feeling of sand on his skin, of hot air around him make him feel… feel what?)

Then he hears steps outside the heavy door. Confident. Closer and closer.

And all Loki has is weak magic (he’ll be barely able to move a fallen leaf), a tired body (still stronger than many species, though), and a sharp mind.

The door opens. A man walks in almost lazily, but Loki knows instantly – casualness is a facade. Burly, covered in green armour, with weapons like blasters and hidden knives attached. Darker skin, bald head and face covered with nasty-looking scars. A posture of a seasoned warrior. Air of not-quite-a-threat, but someone who definitely knows how to be in charge of a situation.

 – Awake already? Good, - the voice is gruff, but somehow not unkind. – Do you speak Basic?

 – I do, - words scratch the dry throat, Loki barely holds himself from coughing. It’s hard to project dignity when you’re wet and naked in unknown circumstances. – Where am I?

 – Mos Espa, Tatooine. And I’m the Daimyo here. Boba Fett, - the man raises an eyebrow, clearly prompting Loki to introduce himself.

Loki starts to assess the situation. In an unknown place – he’s never heard about Tatooine planet – in the dwelling of an obvious leader of this place. Not good. But this Fett allowed him to be healed – so he has something ready for Loki. Some kind of use. On the other hand, he obviously doesn’t recognize Loki as an Asgardian prince… former Asgardian prince… whatever. It’s not time to dwell upon it. The fact is, now Loki can hide what he’s capable of, assume another personality and get out of here.

 – Loki, - he hears his mouth saying as if from the outside of himself. – And I’m lost.

‘What in the Nine Worlds is wrong with you?’ – his mind screams immediately. Panic raises its head, ready to uncurl completely and cover him all. Did the Fall through the Void affect his brain-to-mouth connection? He won’t get anywhere spewing the truth right and left and wearing his heart on his sleeve!

 – Then the droid will help you get dressed and take you to the kitchens, - Fett nods to the robot, and the thing whirs in response. – We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. – He flashes a brief smile and leaves the room.

This reception is… baffling. Loki’s not a person to trust easily – his own trust turned out to be catastrophically misplaced – but this seems as a… good start. Maybe, he won’t have to fight his way out. Panic settles down.

Maybe, he’ll be able to use this situation to his own advantage. After all, he survived the Fall through open space. Maybe, he’ll find some other life out there.

If someone is interested in writing a whole story (by chance), please inform me.

You know what, take my Loki headcanons:

(I use he/she/they for Loki here)

•Central heterochromia. Because screw it. This is how I'm choosing to end the green eyes vs blue eyes debate.

•They used to love sleeping and would make sure to get enough rest when he was younger. As years went by, after some traumatic experiences that caused nightmares, sleeping became an issue. That peaceful sleeping scene we saw in the series is a rare occurence, most likely caused by a mix of exhaustion and Mobius's soothing presence.

•Used to pretend to be sick and hurt for attention as a child. As Loki got older, Frigga became the only person that still cared, and she was also the only one he felt even slightly bad lying to, so he just stopped (this one isn't exactly mine, except the Frigga part).

•Enjoys poetry. Had the Asgardian equivalent of an edgy phase and used to write terrible "dark" poems. Thor took a while to stop teasing them over it.

•Still writes poems sometimes, though his writing style changed a lot.

•Used to overwork themself with learning new spells and other skills.

•Basically, due to constanly being in Thor's shadow, whenever she found something to be good at, they wold hyperfixate on it to the point of neglecting self care. Frigga would have to literally pull him away from his studies for them to eat/drink/sleep/take baths.

Planning to make headcanons about his relationship with his family and also about her bissexuality/gender fluidity, but right now I'm kinda sleepy so take this.

we all now joke about Loki being a tree but can we just for a moment appreciate how beautiful is the concept that Loki, the God of Mischief, the silver tongue liar, the antagonist of the good boys, has turned into the God of Stories, the God of Lives, the God sitting on the Throne of Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, the God who looks after everyone’s lives, the God who keeps the branches alive the God who sacrificed their own freedom and need of not being alone to save the people they care about to give everyone a chance CAN WE JUST APPRECIATE IT PLEASE