We Love A Mama’s Boy

could you write abt loki wanting cuddles and kisses from reader? just some clingy loki before bed

I absolutely can

I'm sorry its a little short but I tried

word count: 463

warnings: none 

it was date night and Loki's turn to pick the activity. he'd been clingy all day and you'd guessed that he'd pick a movie, which he of course did. you'd agreed on The Nightmare Before Christmas, it had been Loki's favorite since you introduced it to him mid November.

you'd decided on watching the movie in Starks personal theater, there was this one spot that Loki loved because he could lay on you but still see the tv and in usual Loki fashion once he had his hands on you, you were just stuck with him. if you got up, he got up, if you needed the bathroom he'd get up and stand just outside the door so he could wrap his arms around you the second he could.

he, himself wasn't sure why he needed you so much today but the second you stepped away he'd panic, he'd tried to just deal with it the night before but after about six hours of paranoia he gave up and crawled into your bed. you'd woken up with his arms around you and gone pretty much all day in the same type of situation, luckily it was a situation you loved.

once the two of you laid down and gotten comfy he'd started peppering kisses along your neck, yo knew he wasn't trying to seduce you with these kisses but that he just needed to feel you, he needed the reassurance that you were real and here and that you loved him. 

you gently moved his head away from your neck so you could talk to him, he had that lost puppy look in his eyes. “what’s wrong pretty boy?” he just whined in response so you let him put his head back on your chest. usually when he’s this clingy its after a nightmare or something but this has been all day and it was kind of concerning.

after a while of you rubbing his back and playing with his hair he finally spoke. “can I have a kiss?” somehow he always manages to melt your heart. in stead of speaking you just kissed him, soft, sweet and slow. he’d never been so sure in his life that you could fix everything, even if the world was crashing down and he felt like he was suffocating, you were always his safe haven. 

the two of you separated after the credits started and let whatever was next play. you’d agreed to just sleep where you were that night, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to convince Loki to let you go for long enough to get to your room.

the two of you fell asleep clinging to one another as if your lives depended on it, and to the two of you it did.

Ready to Comply: The Google Translate Soldier

Who here doesn’t like some good old Winter Soldier angst? Raise your hands. Now leave, this post is not for you.

Just kidding. Stay if you want. But be warned: it may get a teeny bit angsty.

Okay, so, we all know The Phrase. We’ve had this phrase destroy our souls again and again, in the canon, in fanfiction, in our unruly daydreams about the beauty and tragedy of a certain brainwashed supersoldier.

Oh god. The feels. But on we go.

I want desperately to use this phrase in my fics for obvious angst purposes, but here’s the thing: I’m a native Russian speaker and a professional translator, and the Russian version of the phrase from the movie is cutting my heart into tiny miserable pieces every time I think about it. (Which is, admittedly, A LOT.)

So, what is wrong with it?

In Captain America: Civil War, we hear Bucky say in an accent heavier than his metal arm, “я готов отвечать” [“ya gotov otvechat’”], after being put into the mindless killer machine mode by a bunch of horribly mangled Russian words and phrases. According to the subtitles, it means “ready to comply.”

Except that it doesn’t. The Russian verb “отвечать” [“otvechat’”] has a range of meanings, from “to reply” to “to account for” and so on. The only context in which it can correspond to the English verb “to comply” is when talking about a gas pipe complying with safety requirements or a rant post complying with Tumblr community guidelines.

So, “я готов отвечать” can mean something like “I’m ready to answer [your questions]” or “I’m ready to assume responsibility [for something],” turning the scene into some kind of an interrogation or an investigation, while we all know that it’s neither.

There’s another version, straight from our dear Google Translate.

(I love Google Translate so much. It always proves that the need for human translators will never cease.)

What’s wrong with this one? Well, “я готов подчиниться” [“ya gotov podchinit’sya”] is much better in terms of word choice. The Russian verb “подчиниться” [“podchinit’sya”] does, indeed, mean “to obey, to submit, to surrender” and so on. The problem is with the verb form.

Verbs in Russian have two aspects: the perfective aspect, which indicates a one-time action, and the imperfective aspect, which points to a more ongoing kind of thing. Unaware of the context, Google Translate uses the perfective aspect, which turns the phrase into “I’m ready to comply, but only just this once, don’t bother me after that.”

The proper form would be “подчиняться” [“podchinyat’sya”] instead of “подчиниться” [“podchinit’sya”] (yes, it’s a one letter difference, but see how huge it is?). The whole phrase would then be “я готов подчиняться” [“ya gotov podchinyat’sya”], which might even pass for an adequate translation.

But there’s one more thing.

The English phrase doesn’t have a first-person pronoun. In fact, it doesn’t have any pronoun at all. It doesn’t indicate the speaker in any way, because the one saying it isn’t supposed to be a person. The ‘who’ here isn’t important. What is important, is that whoever (or whatever) it is, is ready.

Here, have a tissue.

The Russian phrase, however, begins with “Я” [“Ya”], which means, unsurprisingly, “I” and is not syntactically mandatory in this case. Just like in English.

Moreover, it doesn’t figure much in standard military expressions. Why waste precious army time on such meaningless things as personal pronouns? Again, there are no persons here. Only soldiers.

My personal favorite for rendering “ready to comply” in Russian is “готов служить” [“gotov sluzhit’”], which means “ready to serve” as in “to serve one’s country.” Or one’s captors. Take your pick.

Oh wait, you’re not allowed to choose. Sorry.

The pros for this version are: it’s a standard phrase that indicates one’s willingness to obey and submit and is primarily used in the military context. Moreover, it’s a standard Russian phrase, and seeing Bucky utter it like some common Soviet private would be so much more heartbreaking. (Yes, even more.)

The cons are: it’s a standard phrase. As far as I understand, “ready to comply” isn’t standard military lingo, so maybe the Russian version should reflect that as well. Or maybe I’m overthinking it.

In conclusion? Marvel couldn’t splurge on an actual Russian speaker to proofread a couple of sentences, and now I’m forever torn between wanting a phrase that sounds like idiomatic Russian instead of machine translation and wanting to make a recognizable fandom reference.

Fandom life is hard, people.

another world [1]

after your boyfriend, peter parker, is killed by the green goblin, you take on the mantel of spiderwoman. a few years later, you're suddenly shoved into a multi-versal war after being called to another universe to help a (smaller) version of peter. a familiar face leaves you shaken.

[2] [3]

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader

CONTENT: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS!!!!!, mentions of suicide, angst angst angst angst, may parker deserves so much better and i apologize for putting her through this

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

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Here lies Peter Parker. Beloved son.

We shall meet again.

[Y/N] stands over his grave. There's a chill in the air, autumn has finally taken New York. She shivers, her coat a few sizes too big, and two hands make their way to her lapel to tuck the girl in tighter. May Parker let's out a sigh.

"We've got to get you a thicker coat," May says. There's a tired look in her eyes. The lines on her face seem deeper. She's pushing on fifty-two now. The grief has aged her far more. "You're going to freeze when December hits."

"This one was his, May," [Y/N] replies. The words make May take a temporary pause. "I can't just find a new one."

Wind sends the leaves skittering along the graves. The red and brown contrast greatly to the pure white bouquet of cleomes sat on the headstone. Spider flowers, [Y/N] thinks with a small smile. He'd appreciate the irony.

"I think Peter would rather you be warm and cozy in your own well-fitting coat than freezing to death in one of his old, worn, baggy ones," May eventually responded. [Y/N] wrapped her hands around her body, subconsciously pulling the coat even closer. She could still pretend it smelled like him if she tried hard enough. The warm scent of cinnamon with hints of oak and amber. The smell of home.

The older woman gave her a sad smile and comfortingly rubbed her back. "But, I understand. It's hard to let go of it when you can imagine it's him. You wouldn't believe how many of Ben's old flannels are still folded up in my dresser."

Quiet crept in again. [Y/N] could still remember Ben Parker's death, how Peter shut down, how May crumbled. How could that have been nearly eight years ago? May still had her days of darkness, when the grief became too much. She had lost a husband and a son. [Y/N] had watched this woman quite literally go through every mother's nightmare. How did she get out of bed? How did she go to work? How was she still breathing?

"How do you do it?" [Y/N] broke the silence, unable to hold her thoughts back any longer. "It's been three years, May, and I still wake up expecting him to be next to me. I still wait for a call, a text, letting me know he's going to be late to dinner again this week because he's gotten caught up with some robbery downtown. I come home from work and I wait. I wait for Peter to walk in with Chinese takeout, give me a kiss that takes my breath away, and sit down to explain his latest gadget idea to me. I look at the door and I wait. I wait it for to open and it never does."

A sob falls from her lips. Tears are streaming down her face openly now, though [Y/N] can't remember when they started. May embraces her, tightly, as if she's keeping the girl in one piece. They fall together as [Y/N]'s knees give in from the weight of it all. The ground is cold. The grass is dead. Peter's headstone has collected enough dirt to look beige. There is no sign of life, no sign of who he was. All of it is dull. It makes the sobs wrack through her body even harder.

The two women sit there for quite some time. May cradles [Y/N] in her arms, whispering soothing words in her ear as the waves of sorrow slowly become smaller and smaller. There's been a quiet understanding between them ever since Peter's passing. They were family now. Neither would ever grieve alone. Neither would ever be alone. This was not the first time May Parker had held her son's partner in her arms as she grieved the loss of her love, and it would not be the last.

"You won't believe me, but it does get easier," May speaks while gently petting the girl's hair. Her breath had finally evened out, she was fresh out of tears. "It took me almost three years to come to terms with Ben's passing. I'm still learning to live without him. Healing is not linear, darling. I know it seems like this is never ending, but you will make it through this. We'll both make it through this, together, hand in hand. I am never leaving you and you're sure as hell not leaving me on my watch."

[Y/N] let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from May to look level with her. There were a few tear streaks down the older woman's face and [Y/N] felt a pang of guilt. She hated upsetting May or making her worry even more than she already did. May gently pushed the hair out of her face and [Y/N] took her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, May," [Y/N] replied, placing a gentle kiss on the older woman's knuckle. "I'd miss your meatloaf too much."

May snorted, standing up and helping [Y/N] off the ground. "Now, there is no point in lying to me to butter me up," She joked, brushing the grass and dirt off the girl's coat. "Why don't you come back to the house for a bit? I'll make some tea. We could finally take a crack at that pumpkin bread recipe you've been talking about."

As if on cue, the shrill screech of a police siren broke May's created facade of a peaceful night. The women shared a look, [Y/N]'s full of remorse while May's held sorrow.

"Duty calls." [Y/N] sighed. She really did want to try that pumpkin bread recipe.

There was a beat. May opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the right words to say. She didn't have to. [Y/N] already knew.

"I know, May," The girl spoke up. "He wouldn't want this for me, and you're right, but he also wouldn't want New York to be completely on its own. This city needs a hero, a symbol of hope. It's selfish, but this is for me too. Makes me feel like I'm carrying on his legacy, I guess. As long as there's a Spider, there's still a piece of Peter around."

It had been hard informing May of the double life Peter had been living after he passed, but what else could [Y/N] have told her? "Ah yes, your son died in a very tragic car accident and that's why his spine was shattered into pieces and I was left completely unharmed although I was also at the scene." Lying to May after losing him just felt wrong.

So [Y/N] told her everything, about Spiderman, about the Green Goblin and the Osborns. And a few months later, when [Y/N] decided to take her late boyfriend's place and protect New York, the first thing she did was tell May. May, of course, pleaded with the girl not to go any further with the idea of Spiderwoman, but [Y/N] had her mind set. She was going to protect New York, not only for her home state's sake, but for Peter's memory as well.

May sighed. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop [Y/N] and there was no point in wasting both of their time. She'd been trying to put an end to this for two years now, but the girl was stubborn. Peter had called it "overly ambitious". May couldn't help but think that Ben could've put an end to this somehow, but it was just her now. She'd find a way eventually.

"If you need anything," May finally spoke. "I'll be home all night. I don't have night rounds at the hospital for the rest of this week. You stop by, no matter how late, okay? Peter's old bed is always there for you."

[Y/N] felt a pang in her chest at the mention of Peter's childhood bedroom. She'd spent at least four months after his death practically rotting away in his bed. There were so many memories from their teenage years in that room. She didn't know if she could face them again without deteriorating.

"Thanks, May," [Y/N] gave her a small smile. "I'll shoot you a text if I decide to stop by. In the meantime, pamper yourself. You work too hard."

The women shared a hug, May giving the girl a warm kiss on the cheek before they finally parted ways. [Y/N] watched May make her way out of the graveyard before leaning down to Peter's headstone. She gently sat her forehead against the stone and closed her eyes.

"I really, really hope you're proud of me."

──────────────────────

It was late. She'd been out for hours now, patrolling around the entire state of New York. Stopped a few break-ins, prevented some drug deals, the usual crime scene. It had been quiet ever since Norman Osborn's death. His passing was sudden, an apparent suicide. The news had sent [Y/N] into a fit of rage.

"That coward took the easy way out. After everything he's done, after Peter, it's over because of a fucking self-inflicted gunshot to the head? It was supposed to be me, May. I wanted to watch him bleed."

[Y/N] sat close to the top of the Empire State building. This had been her and Peter's hiding spot. She could remember the first time he had brought her up here, sometime during junior year, and the view had completely taken her breath away. Peter had taken her hand and told her he loved her for the first time. It truly felt like they could've conquered the world together.

She took a breath, attempting to let herself relax for the first time in a few days. She was exhausted; her head was pounding and her body ached. It was a lot more difficult to do the job that Peter left behind without any super-human abilities. She was extremely lucky all of his equipment hadn't taken damage, trying to follow Peter's notes and blueprints felt like reading a foreign language. It was a miracle she hadn't taken life-threatening injuries yet, though she had ended up on May's doorstep needing help getting patched back up more times than she'd like to admit. Thank God for May Parker.

The wind up this high was chilling. It seemed to bite, but it held a certain familiarity that brought comfort. [Y/N] wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the structure of the building. The red and blue of the suit reflected against the metal. She had managed to adjust Peter's old suit enough to get it to fit her smaller frame. She was cold. She never used to be cold up here.

Her eyes were getting heavier and it was dangerous to stay up this high, but she couldn't seem to care. She gave in almost at once, letting her eyes drift shut. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, she thought. It's not like anyone will find me up here.

There was a brief moment of complete silence. No city sounds, no wind, she could barely hear the steady intake of her own breath. It was calm, almost as if she had made her way to the end of the world. A bright, nearly blinding light made [Y/N] squeeze her eyes shut tighter. What the hell?

The noise resumed. Cars honked, people yelled. [Y/N] rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the effect of the light, and noticed that the sun had risen. Had she accidentally fallen asleep and slept until morning? She'd have to send May a text. She always sent May an "I'm Ok! :)" after patrol. The woman must be worried sick.

[Y/N] made her way off of the building, slipping her mask back on and beginning to swing home. The sounds of Jonah Jameson's voice echoed through Times Square. Since when had he begun filming his episodes? She could've sworn the reporter only did his podcast.

J. Jonah Jameson sat at a desk, a stack of papers in his hand. His voice seemed to echo through the city. "Spider-Man continues his era of chaos with no remorse—"

That was weird. She had sworn everyone had switched to referring to the vigilante as Spiderwoman ever since the change had become more apparent. Also, when did Jameson go bald? He looked just... slightly off.

The reporter's rant on the hero continued. "When will you cease this meaningless destruction? After your betrayal to Mysterio, it's a miracle you have any public support remaining at all."

Mysterio? Who the hell was Mysterio?

The girl stopped, perching herself on the edge of a building and looking at the screen expectantly. She couldn't remember fighting a "Mysterio". There hadn't been a big bad in New York since the Goblin.

"It's time this little round of show-and-tell was put to an end," Jameson continued. "When will you face the facts? For the betterment of this city, you should be put behind bars. It's time you turned yourself in, Peter Parker."

[Y/N] felt her stomach drop.

The screen flashed. A photo of a teenaged boy was put on display. The words "PUBLIC ENEMY #1" were plastered over his face. Footage followed of the man Mysterio, accusing Peter of attempting to kill him. He revealed his identity and screen went to black.

[Y/N] could see Jameson's face appear back on the screen, but she couldn't hear a word he spoke. Something was extremely wrong here. She couldn't stop thinking about the boy that they had shown.

That's wasn't Peter.

could you please hc for looking realizing he in love and all those new emotions and silly things, you know just something that makes my heart bound

Loki and falling in love

He doesn’t think it’s love at first but rather just a friendship because that’s how far he lets his relationships be

Then he notices the changes, how his eyes follow you whenever you’re moving around in the same room

Your little touches when you pull him somewhere or just brush a strand of hair out of his face

They lingered more and he finds himself thinking about your soft skin touching his face and hands

His body heating up whenever you hug him or hold his hand in occasions

He then comes to the conclusion that it might just be lust and nothing but how wrong he was

His heart burned for you when you laughed and gave your full attention to others

The bounding of his heartbeat kept loud in his eardrums whenever he made you laugh or smile

The way he finds himself getting lost in your eyes when you speak

The hesitation in his Demeanor just because he scared he’ll melt if he held you close

He notices the tiniest details about you

How your teeth show when you laugh genuinely and you pout when you’re in a bad mood

How your eyes sparkle with wonder whenever he showed you one of his spells

your cute little dance when you get something you wanted for long

He finds himself smiling softly at you, at the most random times

Being close to you feels like a really warm blanket being warped around his body

His name out of your lips makes him feel like time stopped and started In slow motion

His cheeks and ears would turn a light pink and sometimes blueish whenever you complemented him

It takes a lot for Loki to fall in love but when he does.

It a hard fall that leaves a permanent mark in his heart

Your mark

i’ve dipped casually into bagginshield recently (10 years late 💀) and i am absolutely fascinated by how popular that ship seems to have been in fandom spaces. like it’s a great ship of course but i genuinely didn’t know people were that into the hobbit trilogy? i was deep into marvel and superwholock at the time and completely missed it. could just be a case of being in the right place at the right time (what i affectionaly refer to as the golden age of tumblr).

The Tumblr etiquette of loving a grown fictional man is reblogging gifsets of him doing anything at all and tagging them as "he's so fucking stupid <3" or "I hate him <3" or "whore <3" and I think that's beautiful

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER episode two: the star-spangled man

Little ways to have a more Magikal Day 🌿🌞🪐

credit: @CraftingWitch on Instagram !

posted 06/19/2022

perishable hours 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: peter reminds you how important sleeping is. and then proceeds to keep you awake. 

warnings: fluff, insomnia, half-asleep drabbles. 

a/n: and in this i attempt to write fluff without writing fluff 

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The thing is,,, I don't even want ppl to be like my favourite fictional character(s) I just want my favourite characters to be real