#WAS THIS TOO OOC?? i dunno i like the idea that he softens out a bit w/ soft touches

[cognitosclowns]

I hope this isn't to weird but...we all know Glenn is repressed about a lot of things. But do you think he would be in denial about being touch/affection-starved until he meets an very affectionate reader? (starved for some Glenn x reader because I'm a Glenn simp😅)

EEE <333 GOODNESS

SFW BELOW

OKAY THIS MIGHT BE A BIT SCRAMBLED SO FORGIVE ME BUT,,

He's,,, so big n strong + super abrasive w/ people so,,, ppl usually don't go outta their way to touch him for fear of losing a hand?? Even ppl he’d consider himself close to,,, usually don’t offer any casual affection </3

HE DOESN'T REALLY UNDERSTAND HOW BAD IT IS UNTIL HE GETS WITH YOU LMAO OH BOYE

Like <33 he's sitting down at his desk working on smth, and you put your hand on his to get his attention and he visibly pauses?? Like his whole body Tenses Up immediately bc of how,,, unfamiliar the sensation is </3

He does not register a single word you’re saying bc,, he’s much to invested in the way your hand is squeezing his?? Gently rubbing your thumb along the side??

1000% tries to deflect with General Grumbling, a-la 'what'd'y think you're doin', sneaking up me like that >:((('

YKNOW WHAT THAT'S PROBABLY GONNA BE HIS REACTION FOR THE FIRST,,, 10-15 times you try to show him affection. 

This instantaneous Grimace, Lots of Old Man Huffing and grunting about how you 'don't need’ta fuss >:(' , etc, etc <33

DONT WORRY, HE'LL GET OVER THAT HURDLE EVENTUALLY SMDNSD HE'S JUST VERY BAD AT LETTING HIMSELF BE VULNERABLE

It really is like,, All Or Nothing, once he gets through that hurdle. Either he’s gonna toss you around like a hacky-sack, or he’ll hold like you’re made of talcum powder and prayers. No middle ground with Glenn Dolphman smdnsd

Like you go to sit down and he pulls out the chair, cups your back n shoulder to ease you into it <333

When you come in he’ll ently slip your coat off, trailing his hands down your arms <333

JUST,, THOSE CLASSIC SOUTHERN-GENTLEMAN-ROMANTIC-THINGS. His mother raised him right dammit - he may be an abrassive asshole but <333 he also knows how to treat a lover smnsdms

OH expect Lots of affection to your neck n shoulders!! He has Big Strong Hands so <33333 expect plenty of shoulder massages <333

OH <3333 BUT IF YOU RECIPROCATE THAT??? HE’S GONNA DIE

im going off on a tangent about this shit <333 bc guh men <33 you can’t stop me this is my rodeo buckaroo

Cause yeah sure him doing stuff for you feel natural for him bc,, Big Strong Man Grr etc, BUT YOU DOING SHIT FOR HIM?????

Shitty vision + refuses to wear glasses = he's hunched over at his desk while he works on blueprints. That in combination w/ how much the surgery fucked with his spine means YOUCH HIS BACK N SHOULDERS HURT CONSTANTLY

he might fuss a bit at first or tense a bit, but,,, once you get that little spot btwn his shoulder blades???

he murmurs a breathless 'sweet jesus' and BAGABING BADABOOM HE'S PUTTY IN YOUR HANDS BABEY HAVE FUN <3333

lots of delightfully throaty hums n groans??? With every sigh he relaxes a little bit more,, until his hands are fully unclenched, head dipping forwards,

(... also lots of Cursing when you're too rough lmao)

SNDBS IF YOU WANNA MAKE HIS BRAIN SHUT OFF?? just,, come up to him and sit in his lap/straddle his thigh. he'll look at you like you've just grown a third head.

YOU KNOW IT, YOU LOVE IT : HIS ACCENT BECOMES AN INDECIPHERABLE PASTE <333 just this long string of Southern Noises Of Surprise, Mixed With Some Vague Words, before he Nods Firmly As If He's Said Something Very Reasonable smdnsmd.

OH AND LIKE <333 HE’S SUCH A SHOW OFF. COME ON, HE’S THIS BIG OL MANLY MAN, OF COURSE HE’S GONNA PICK YOU UP OUTTA NOWHERE.

 Scoop you up in his arms and spin you before giving you a Big Kiss On the Neck <3333333 domestic bliss suits him nicely

ESPECIALLY IF YOURE BEING STUBBORN. Like if you’re,, working super late?? He’ll just straight up pick up the chair you’re sitting in and bring you into your bedroom n,,, toss you onto the bed like fresh laundry lmao. He won’t have you neglecting yourself <333

IF YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR A WHILE??? Your back is gonna pop audibly when he swings you around in this,, Massive Bear-Hug-Kiss. He forgets his own strength sometimes sorry

THIS WAS JUST A BUNCHA MISC STUFF SO LMK IF YOU HAD SMTH ELSE IN MIND!!! 

#OH FUCK ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN SOME GLENN #he's an old man who absolutely DOES NOT take good care of himself. a shoulder massage would kill him smnsmdn #sfw #inside job #glenn dolphman x reader #WAS THIS TOO OOC?? i dunno i like the idea that he softens out a bit w/ soft touches #like he isn't used to it so he kinda... stalls a bit?? #this was originally like 2000 words but i got shy about writing so much #MNDSMSD BUT FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE GLENN I NEED TO PRACTICE WRITING HIM LMAO #hes delightfully repressed smdns very fun to write #glenn dolphman

[yuurivoice]

(1/2, maybe /3, I dunno) I've been wanting to get this off my chest for a while, comment this with you, senpai, I really hope you don't get me wrong. Don't you think your portrayal of Guzma is a little... OOC? Like, "[about Guzma] actually be caring for their crew and special someone???? And are also DUMB?" I can see Guzma being in his best behavior around his s/o but he is heavily implied to use his anger issues and bad temper as a form of manipulation towards the Skull Grunts, Senpai :-/

“(2/2, maybe /3) The Grunts do admire him, yes, but some are very scared of him and aren't afraid to comment that with the player. Reminder that he also jumped into a wormhole with Lusamine without a second thought and left Team Skull behind without the least bit of consideration for them. I mean, think about it: if Guzma was truly a kind man and had nothing about his behavior to change (which he totally does), then his entire character arc would be pointless, don’t you agree?

(3/3) Also, Guzma ISN’T dumb??? The anime AND the games have clearly shown that our boy has brains and is quite intelligent! He's a great battler, a great strategist and is implied to have an interest in geography (from the world globe in his bedroom in Po Town). He understood that the experiment with Nihilego was a success the moment he sees it and I’m sure he didn’t become the Boss for nothing.“

Alright Anon, you very clearly feel strong about this and have presented your thoughts in a non-confrontational way and I get the vibe you genuinely just want to pick my brain so I’ll bite.

First off, pure canonical representation is far from what I ever set out to do with any character. I like presenting my interpretation and take on a character, which definitely does take influence from canon but honestly??? Some of my favorite things about fandom is when the fans take a character and run with their take on them. Is it always totally accurate, no. Is it sometimes more exciting and interesting than what a strictly canonical take would look like? I think so!

So, that’s something to make clear early on. Also, when I say “dumb” I do not mean lacking in intelligence or stupid. I mean...silly? I think rather than going super dark and making Guzma a toxic asshole who uses his followers and abuses his power or doesn’t care about Team Skull would bore me.

You can consider it an AU, consider it a bad interpretation, consider it anything.

I consider it a shitfuckton of fun and I think, just maybe, a lot of other people think it’s fun too! Because telling stories with fictional faves is fun! And sometimes you can explore different ideas with those characters, or give them a different coat of paint that the canon didn’t give them.

I wish I had something more tangible to say outside of “...alright?” but man idk what to tell you aside from I hear you, and you raise good points, but what does it actually matter unless I was somehow trying to stake a claim and say that “my Guzma” was somehow more correct than canon representations. 

It’s also a little curious that you’d bring this to me specifically when a very significant portion of the fandom enjoys the sweeter, sillier interpretation of Guzma and Team Skull. I’m not the only person producing that content, and honestly from what I’ve seen it’s almost overwhelmingly more of a softer, comedic approach with him. Because it’s fun. And ultimately, doing stuff for fun is what I’m all about. Big bonus points that people also enjoy my interpretation of him.

Another thought: I enjoy the softened/silly portrayal of Guzma in a sense that maybe it’s more of an act because he feels a softer demeanor will help him make things right with those who once feared him. 

I think there’s a certain amount of suspension of disbelief you have to accept when consuming any kind of fan content, and showing up with a list of things and going “WELL, ACTUALLY” is an exercise in missing the point.

And that goes for all sorts of characters in all sorts of fandoms. People love the “oh he’s a bad guy but WHAT IF HE WAS ACTUALLY BABY” and I love it too...because it’s fiction, and it’s a great deal of fun!

#Anonymous

[carewyncromwell]

[Carewyn found Barnaby at the Training Grounds with Badeea. Badeea noticed Carewyn’s approach first and called over dreamily.]

Badeea: “Hello, Carewyn.”

[Barnaby turned around too, his face over-bright with a smile.]

[He indicated the easel set up in front of him.]

“...cute, Barnaby. Nice job! I didn’t know you were teaching Barnaby how to paint, Badeea.”

[Badeea smiled.]

Badeea: “We just started again. Barnaby has big plans.”

Barnaby: “(eagerly) Yeah! Over the summer, I learned what a ‘Renaissance Man’ is -- it means knowing only a little bit about a lot of things.”

You mean a jack-of-all-trades?

Badeea: “(amused) Where did you get that definition?”

Barnaby: “(frowning in thought) Can’t remember...I’m sure it must’ve been from somewhere...”

[He turned to Carewyn with a fresh, determined smile.]

Barnaby: “Anyway...I’ve decided I want to become a ‘Renaissance Wizard,’ Carewyn.”

[Carewyn’s eyes sparkled proudly.]

“So you’re planning on learning a little bit about as much as you can?”

[The smile slid off Carewyn’s face.]

“Well, actually...I need some advice about Ismelda.”

[Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh.]

“Thank Merlin, no.”

I don’t need a redo of that whole affair.

“Ismelda’s...well, she’s sort of taken Beatrice Haywood under her wing.”

[Barnaby blinked in surprise.]

Barnaby: “Ismelda and Penny’s little sister? Odd pair.”

“Yeah. Really, I’m...not that upset that Beatrice is spending time with Ismelda, just on its own. But at the same time...well, I’m sure that Beatrice is in a rough place, after what happened last year.”

Barnaby: “I reckon she’s not very happy either, if she’s in a rough place. I prefer sunnier places myself.”

[Badeea’s face rippled with soft, solemn concern.]

Badeea: “I thought of Beatrice a lot this summer -- every time I began work on a new portrait. I was almost afraid to paint anything I couldn’t imagine being trapped inside...”

[Carewyn gave Badeea a sympathetic nod.]

“Penny’s worried about Beatrice falling under the wrong influence. I don’t really think Penny has much to worry about -- I mean, for how unpleasant Ismelda is to be around, I really don’t think she’ll hurt Beatrice. And Beatrice clearly chose to spend time with Ismelda for a reason. But Beatrice won’t talk to Penny at all, and I don’t know how well I’ll be able to persuade her otherwise as long as Ismelda’s around.”

[She turned back to Barnaby.]

“That’s why I was hoping you might have an idea that could help, Barnaby. I mean...you were sort of under Ismelda’s spell too, when we first met.”

[Barnaby’s face grew a bit grimmer at the memory.]

Barnaby: “(softly) Yeah...Merula’s too.”

[Carewyn’s eyes softened as she gave Barnaby a small, reassuring smile.]

I’m so glad you’re no longer wrapped up with those two, Barnaby. So glad...

[Even if she hadn’t articulated her thoughts out loud, Barnaby still clearly felt their impact through Carewyn’s expression, and he smiled back.]

[Carewyn blinked, taken aback.]

“Me?”

[Barnaby’s eyes drifted down to the ground, growing a little sadder.]

Barnaby: “Back then...I wanted friends. Everyone does. But the ones I first found...they were often bitter and cruel. So I joined in, afraid to be left out...”

[He raised his head again.]

Barnaby: “...until you showed me I could have friends that didn’t behave that way. That friends could be encouraging, and giving, and fun.”

[Carewyn was surprised by the earnest sincerity of Barnaby’s expression. She’d always been amazed by how wrong her first impression of Barnaby had been and she’d been so happy seeing Barnaby blossom into a compassionate, brave, loyal friend before her eyes...but to think Barnaby saw her as something that helped him become who he was...it made her feel like her heart had grown twenty sizes.]

Barnaby: “(smiling again) So that’s my best advice, Carewyn. Spend time around Beatrice -- whether Ismelda’s there or not. Beatrice probably just wants to feel like she’s part of something -- she just needs to see that she has choices.”

[Badeea looked almost as stunned as Carewyn.]

[Carewyn ignored the itching at the corner of her left eye, even as her cheeks darkened in a happy flush and her lips turned up in an emotional smile.]

“(very soft and very touched) ...It was wonderful.”

[Carewyn’s smile broadened into a full white grin. When she answered, her voice was infused with new confidence and optimism.]

Barnaby: “You’re welcome. (gets an idea) Say, if you want to thank me...how about you give me a dueling lesson later? A Renaissance Wizard needs to be up on his dueling skills too.”

[Carewyn laughed.]

“I’m sure Diego would be a better teacher -- but if you want a duel, you’ve got one, Barnaby.”

Barnaby: “(pumps his fist in excitement) Yes!”

[With another giggle, Carewyn turned on her heel and dashed back toward the Courtyard as night began to fall, a new spring in her step.]

((OOC: Gaaaah! Barnababy, this is why you’re my favorite character in the friggin’ game, you unbelievable, amazing cinnamon roll!! *hugs him to infinity* For someone like Carewyn, whose ambition is to be a great witch and pursues that goal by trying to help as many people as she can, that really was the best thing he could’ve possibly said to give her encouragement. ^.^

I already played the rest of this particular game chapter and the start of the next one, so there will be more main-plot-centric roleplaying posts coming, even though I’m currently working on the awfully contrived Malfoy side quest. I don’t think I’ll do any roleplaying posts for that side quest, but I may do a quick few sketches and write some additional headcanons for it.

Got three honesty ask responses in the works (one’s all written out, I just gotta finish up a doodle for it), so look out for those soon! I dunno, even after the ‘Veritaserum’ wears off, I think I very well may try to keep drawing things for any future asks I get. It’s been good practice for my mediocre art skills, and it’s been fun!))

#carewyn cromwell #roleplaying #jacob's sibling #gameplay #hphm #hogwarts mystery #barnaby lee #ismelda murk #beatrice haywood #badeea ali

[bevioletskies]

Starmora prompt: either Gamora or Peter finds out that the other never celebrates their birthday and decides to write them a letter as a gift. (This may be a bit OOC, but I love the idea and I think you would write it wonderfully!)

spoiler warning for avengers: infinity war.word count: 2.9k | ao3

The conversation had started off innocently enough; Gamora and Peter were sat by the vantage window of the Benatar, legs loosely tangled together, sharing a bottle of whatever awful booze Rocket claimed to have purchased at a bar on Contraxia (but they were certain he had actually stolen). It was a quiet night between jobs, their cash flow was astonishingly reasonable, and no one had fought or broken anything in about three days. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Worst hangover ever?” Peter asked, taking a swig and wincing as he did.

“I can’t get hangovers, though I’m not sure that’s something to brag about,” Gamora admitted, tapping a finger against her temple, where the silver of her body modifications was most prominent. “You’ve already seen how much it takes to get me drunk.”

“You make me look like a damn lightweight, honey,” Peter said affectionately. He passed her the bottle with a knowing smirk. “Okay, your turn.”

“Well…” Gamora hummed, pressing the mouth of the bottle against her bottom lip. “Best sex you’ve ever had?”

Peter gaped at her. “Gamora.”

“Is that your answer?” She giggled softly, pausing to drink. “Maybe I am a little tipsy right now. Contraxians love dealing in banned Kathulosian alcohol, far stronger than our usual inventory from the fancy stores on Xandar.”

“Of course my answer is you.” He paused, then smiled winningly. “Do I get any points for that?”

“You’re in dangerous waters, Peter Quill, but we’ll see if I feel more generous later tonight,” Gamora teased. “Next.”

“Your least favorite job we’ve ever done,” Peter suggested, taking the bottle back.

“Going to Knowhere only to get taken and killed by my father is certainly up there,” Gamora said dryly. Peter winced, lifting the bottle for another drink. He was certainly going to need it after recalling the trauma of that very moment. “Best birthday? Whatever that means to you, I guess.”

His arm paused halfway up in the air. “I dunno. Birthdays…they’re not really my thing.”

Gamora quirked her brow. “Indulgent days that involve music, dancing, excessive drinking, and self-congratulatory praise? They sound like they were made for you.”

“I know we’ve had, like, special dinners on my birthdays these past few years, but…it feels weird sometimes.” He slowly drew his legs away from hers, pulling them into his chest as he set the bottle down between them.

“Why?”

“‘Cos the woman who brought me into this world is no longer in it.” Peter smiled ruefully. “It sounds dumb, I know.”

“No, not at all,” Gamora said, immediately leaning forward to rest a reassuring hand across his forearm. “I should have realized. I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Nah, it’s okay. You got a point. Birthdays are about celebratin’, having fun with loved ones. And I’m all about both.” His smile softened to something more affectionate, reaching to cup her face in his hand, gently running a thumb across her cheek. “You know me. I just miss her like crazy sometimes. Thinkin’ about how I used to spend my birthday when it was just me and her, and how I’m never gonna get those times back…makes it harder to capture that feeling again.”

Gamora leaned into his touch, shuffling closer until her elbows rested on top of his knees. “I know we’re no substitute for your mother’s affection. But I hope that someday, your memories of her won’t be nearly as bittersweet. There’s peace in fond remembrance, Peter. I feel the same way about my family, about how I used to spend birthdays in my parents’ company. Just don’t let her absence consume you.”

Exhaling slowly, Peter tilted his head slightly to bring their foreheads together, his stormy gaze meeting her warm, liquid eyes. “Well, easier said than done. But you’re right. Mom would want me to be happy. And I am, most of the time. We all have bad days, right? Some more than others, but I’m not one of ‘em.”

“No, you’re not,” Gamora agreed, smiling encouragingly. “You’re spirited, for lack of a better word. One of the many reasons that I love you.”

Peter laughed softly in awe. “Man, you are feelin’ generous tonight, aren’t you?”

Gamora got to her feet, holding her hand out for Peter to take. “Why don’t I take you to bed and show you exactly how I’m feeling?”______

As the months went by, the lingering hollow in Peter’s chest from that night’s conversation faded away. He still dwelled on the memory every now and then, whenever he was reminded of his mother, but it didn’t pain him nearly as much as it did at the moment. Gamora had good intentions when she’d asked, and for the most part, he knew she was right.

Then came his birthday - his thirty-ninth, to be exact - and the warm pit of dread settled in his stomach all over again. He knew the other Guardians already had presents for him, sitting in a pile by his co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit, and Drax and Mantis were charged with making him his favorite foods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but part of him wanted to stay in bed and sulk.

“Happy birthday.” Gamora rolled over in bed to brush a kiss against his cheek. “I have something for you.”

“You didn’t put it with the rest?” Peter grouched, though at Gamora’s hurt expression, he immediately regretted it. “Crap - sorry, Gamora, I’m just…you know. Anyways, what is it?”

She pulled out something small from her bedside table and held it out for him to take - an envelope. A nondescript, plain envelope, only heavy enough to carry one sheet of paper, maybe two. He glanced at her curiously, but she merely smiled and slipped out of bed, ready to start the day like it was any other. “Read it when you’re alone,” she instructed as she got dressed. “I’ll remind the others to go easy on you.”

“Thanks, Gamora.” He stretched his arm out over the length of the mattress to clasp her hand before she could leave. “Love you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ll see you at breakfast in a few minutes, once you finally decide to get out of bed,” Gamora said, shaking her head amusedly. “Love you too.”

Peter went about most of his day in a haze, accepting and opening presents and unusually genuine compliments with a sort of tightness in his smile, ambling about the ship aimlessly in absence of a job or task to do. He wasn’t sure what to do with the envelope, either - of course he wanted to read it, but there was something so unexpected about it, so extraordinarily intimate for Gamora, that he felt like it needed to be treated delicately.

He passed her every now and then throughout the day, always making sure to kiss her forehead and check to see if she needed anything. As always, she was doing her usual duties, sifting through correspondence and poring over their logs for any glaring inaccuracies. Gamora would look at him curiously, silently asking if he had opened it yet, only for him to shake his head and continue on elsewhere.

Finally, after he was pleasantly drowsy from the hearty dinner (and dessert) that Drax and Mantis had carefully prepared for him and a spontaneous dance party initiated by Rocket, of all people, he retreated to their bunk, knowing Gamora was likely having her daily evening chat with her sister elsewhere on the ship. He’d have at least an hour or so before she returned. Feeling oddly nervous, he ran a fingernail along the crease of the envelope and slid the letter out.

It was a single sheet of thick, white letter paper, the kind that they definitely didn’t keep on the ship, adorned with Gamora’s neat, tight cursive. He fixed his gaze upon the first word - his name - allowing the translator implant some time to adjust. Though he and Gamora had been teaching each other the basics of their own languages, they certainly weren’t skilled enough to write a whole letter or carry a conversation yet. Peter settled into the bed, his back against the pillows, and began to read.

“Peter,

You’re probably wondering why I’ve written you a letter, of all things, and where my actual present for you is. After our conversation from a few months ago, I thought this could be my present this year. Besides, I already let you bid far too much on those vintage Terran baseball cards you saw in a silent auction on Drez-Lar a month ago, mostly because I felt bad for accidentally breaking your nose during our Tiran drug bust. Consider that my present if the absence of one bothers you so much.” Peter snorted.

“I know you, Peter. Maybe too well sometimes. You’ve been sad lately. Not depressed, necessarily, just a little absent. I know the events of Thanos’s treachery still haunt you. You still mourn your mother. You can hardly bring yourself to say Yondu’s name. Recovery is not a single stop for you. It’s a long road.”

“It doesn’t have to be lonely, though. I’m here for you, always. I’m guessing you believe it would be selfish of you to complain to me, and that’s why you’ve been so quiet. After all, I was the one that actually died. You also think it’s your fault. You think you were the reason Thanos got me. You think you were the reason Thanos succeeded in completing the Infinity Gauntlet and taking out half the universe. I say, no one else would have done it differently, and I dare them to say otherwise.”

“The point of this letter, though, isn’t going over old grievances of yours, though I hope that someday, they’ll be just a bad memory instead of a recurring nightmare. The point is to tell you some of the things that I have trouble saying out loud sometimes, and may still have trouble putting to paper. You’ve always been so vocal about your affections, especially ever since we started dating, and I could never bring myself to return the favor because it felt so difficult to make them understood. But I’ll give it a try.”

“When we met on Xandar outside the Broker’s shop, I’ll admit, I found you physically attractive, but in the way that people see attractive individuals in passing, only to forget about them entirely a moment later. Then you began to speak, and I started to question how someone like you got a hold of the Orb, of all people. Korath spoke of your encounter with him like you were a particularly dangerous man, and all I saw was someone who probably stumbled into the situation by accident. It was only when I glimpsed your Ravager badge that I realized I had been too quick to judge, and when you very nearly outsmarted me that I understood you were a worthy opponent.”

“In all honesty, I thought very little about you once we were in the Kyln; I had more pressing issues to deal with. I remember you fumbling around, trailing after Rocket and Groot like a lost child, and griping about your Walkman like it was precious - as it turns out, it was. It was only when we talked on Knowhere that I really began to listen. There was an empathy in you, a passion, a kindness, that I found far more captivating than simply going by your looks and your obvious charms. You were willing to share your life story and your music right away, even though we barely knew each other. You sympathized for my plight even though I didn’t think I deserved pity at the time. Attempting to kiss me afterward, though, was a bit much. Boundaries are boundaries, Peter Quill.”

“The rest of what led to us becoming the Guardians feels a bit like a blur. The fight felt so enormous at the time, only to be triumphed by some of the biggest battles of all. You saving my life, though, is something I’ll never forget, even though you ruined the moment. You do that far too often, but I find it more charming than irritating - most of the time, at least. Actually, I think that summarizes you quite nicely, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“And now, here we are, five years later, having survived insurmountable pressure and unforeseeable circumstances. I can tell we’re both exhausted, but I could never tire of you, Peter. You are my family. You are my best friend. It may sound dramatic, but there’s no denying that you’ve changed my life. When I went after the Orb, I was almost certain it would be a suicide mission. In a way, it was - Thanos finally caught up to me four years later, and successfully killed me. But I had no delusions of what my life would be like after escaping his clutches, only a desperate hope that I would somehow survive. With you and the other Guardians, I have done so much more than survive. I found a new purpose, a reason to keep moving forward. I have renewed hope in humanity, and newfound faith in myself. The journey was my own, and the choices I made were of my own volition, but you have been there for me along the entire way, without fail.”

“You might be wondering why I decided to write this letter this year, of all years. It’s partially because of our conversation, but mostly because I found the box in your underwear drawer.” Peter’s breath hitched. “I don’t know why you thought that was a good hiding place, considering you almost never do your own laundry. Stop letting Mantis do your chores for you, Peter, she’s too kind to tell you otherwise. My answer, by the way, no matter when you ask, is yes.”

“If you’ve skipped over the entire letter and arrived at this last part, I wouldn’t blame you. I’m not sure why a simple paragraph or two about why I appreciate you turned into my scattered train of thought (your tendency to ramble on in lieu of meaningful conversation must be rubbing off on me). In short - happy birthday, Peter Quill. I love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done, not just for me, but for everyone. And please, be kind to yourself.”

Peter inhaled noisily, realizing a little too late that he was crying. With shaking hands, he set the letter down and reached for the tissue box. He dabbed hastily at his splotchy face, hoping to hide the evidence, though he was sure his eyes, cheeks, and nose were far too red to hide anything from Gamora. And speaking of her - his heart swelled with joy at every word she had put to paper, every sly tease and endearing sentiment she’d slipped into something he knew he was going to read over and over again until the end of time.

A minute passed before the door creaked open, and Gamora peeked in with a tentative smile. “I see you’ve finally read it.”

He slowly sat up, gesturing for her to join him. “You sure got a way with words for someone who doesn’t like ‘em all that much,” he said with a watery laugh, instantly enveloping her in his arms the moment she sat down. “Thank you, Gamora. So freaking much. This…it’s the best birthday present anyone’s ever gotten me.”

“I hope you’ll take my advice,” Gamora said, tugging gently on his shoulders so they were both lying down. Their heads came to rest on their flat pillows, their bodies along their lumpy mattress. The metal walls creaked precariously around them in their tiny bunk of a bedroom, and despite appearances, it was perfect. “In this life that we’ve chosen for ourselves, I think people have already been so incredibly harsh on us, passed judgment and spewed vitriol. It’s difficult enough without us being cruel to ourselves. I know I spent years resenting who I was and what I had done, and I’m tired of self-loathing and pity. Aren’t you?”

“My ego sure did get knocked down a few pegs since we first started,” Peter admitted, threading his fingers through her hair. “All that crap that people threw at us…sometimes literally…yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been feelin’ pretty bad about myself lately. But this…this was just what I needed to pick myself up.” He folded the letter carefully and tucked it back into the envelope, setting it down on his own bedside table, tucked right underneath the Zune, beside the last letter his mother had ever written him.

“Glad to hear it,” Gamora murmured, resting her forehead against his.

He closed the gap first, kissing her briefly, sweetly. When he pulled away, his signature smirk seemed to have returned, one corner of his mouth quirked upward in mirth. “So…do you want a letter for your birthday?”

Gamora laughed, patting his chest affectionately. “Oh, I’m okay. Besides, your handwriting might be too much for my translator to handle.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in closer. “Fair point. And y’know, I don’t think there’s enough paper in the universe for me to write everything down.” His smile grew at remembrance of the little box in his drawer, the one he’d failed to keep hidden from her. “So I guess I’ll use all the time in the world to tell you instead.”

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #this might be the fluffiest one yet lmao i hope this is what you were looking for!!

[carewyncromwell]

[Carewyn had been very unsettled by the previous night’s encounter with...whoever told her about Peeves and the Portrait...but as much as she didn’t like the idea of having such a strange, pointed gap in her memory, she forced herself to keep to the task at hand. Now that she knew where the Portrait they needed was, all she had to do was find Peeves and figure out some way to get it from him. She decided to enlist the help of the Hogwarts school ghosts, and so, during the Hufflepuff VS Slytherin Quidditch match, she enlisted Diego’s help in getting her and Bill into the Hufflepuff commonroom.

Even though it was located down in the dungeons like the Slytherin dorm was, the Hufflepuff dorm couldn’t have been more different. The Slytherin commonroom was protected by a wall that only opened upon hearing the correct password, but the Hufflepuff commonroom’s entrance could be opened simply by knocking a certain rhythm on top of a certain barrel and then crawling along the passageway into the dormitory itself. Hufflepuff’s home was also considerably brighter and more cheery than Slytherin’s dark, elegant domain, decked out in plants and enchanted windows that shone sunlight in streaks across the floor.

Carewyn couldn’t see herself living in a place like this at all, but she had to admit it was cute, like a little cottage.]

Bill: “So this is the Hufflepuff common room... Who waters all of these plants?”

[Diego raised his eyebrows in faint surprise.]

Diego: “...Actually, I’ve never asked.”

And there he goes with those half-lidded eyes again! Is he trying to be some sort of Casanova? Seriously!

[Her thoughts could’ve been cynical, but Carewyn was just too amused by Diego’s behavior and she couldn’t fight back a grin.]

Bill: “The best dueller at Hogwarts?”

Diego: “Me! If you’d like to duel sometime, Bill, I’d be game.”

[The eldest Weasley smiled too.]

Bill: “I may take you up on that, Diego.”

[Diego turned back to Carewyn a bit more seriously.]

[Diego gave a dismissive hand gesture, clearly unconcerned.]

[Carewyn’s eyes softened slightly.]

Even so, the last thing I’d want to do is get you in trouble for helping us.

[Carewyn bit her lip in an attempt to curb her amusement.]

Okay, honestly, are you just programmed to end every sentence in a lower voice than you started? Merlin’s beard, Diego!

[For his part, Diego actually seemed to smile that little bit broader as he turned on his heel and left the room. Bill turned to Carewyn.]

[Carewyn couldn’t help it -- she finally burst into full-on laughter.]

“I know! And he’s like that with everyone! Peppering in compliments and acting all dashing -- he’s like some kind of charmer type, like Han Solo -- no, no, like Lando! He even does the low voice thing...!”

[Her laughter dissolved into a low fit of giggles. Once she finally got a hold of herself, she wiped away a tear that had formed in her eye.]

“...Heh...he’s pretty great.”

[Bill, clearly not having any idea who Han Solo or Lando were, raised an eyebrow.]

Bill: “I hope that wasn’t meant to be sarcastic.”

[Carewyn smiled a little more sincerely.]

“No, I mean it. Diego’s funny, but I can tell he’s sincere, however weird he acts. He’s brilliant at Wizard Dueling, but he’s still really nice about it. That’s cool.”

Bill: “Yeah, it is.”

[Smiling wryly, the Hogwarts Head Boy strolled over to rest his arm on top of the much smaller Slytherin Prefect’s head.]

Bill: “Dunno how much clout you have talking about being weird, though, Carey -- I don’t reckon Diego names every single piece of clothing he owns...”

[Carewyn tried and failed to push Bill off her head.]

“Sod off!”

[Bill laughed too as he mussed up Carewyn’s bangs.]

Bill: “Come on -- I see the Fat Friar by the stairs.”

(OOC: Goddamn it, why do I sort of ship Diego and Carewyn now?? I mean, seriously, Carewyn is literally the last person who would be taken by Diego’s charms as she’s asexual and doesn’t really flirt at all herself, and yet he’d so easily be able to make her laugh and not be so gosh-darned serious all the time! XDD Also yes, Bill is ttly Carewyn’s substitute big brother in Jacob’s absence.)

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #carewyn cromwell #jacob’s sibling #diego caplan #bill weasley #gameplay #roleplaying