#darsy twirls the asks

[darsynia]

To bring you back to us:

Christy and Neil - pick one (i couldn't choose)?

10 ...desperately

12 ...in grief.

26 ...as an apology

Please and thank you!

Sneaky sneaky, I like it! I touched on all three, but the grief is wrapped up before the kiss. I'd been struggling feeling like my icky holidays had nuked my ability to write on my longfic of these two, and this did help me feel better about that!

TERMS OF SURRENDER

Pairing: Christy Huddleston/Neil MacNeil Length: 2,358 Rating: General audiences Summary: (set during 'Green Apples,' in a universe that mixes the book and the series)

Neil thinks about the loss of his wife and child as he listens to the harmonica's gently hopeful tune of healing. He decides it's finally time to let go of the past and fight for the kind of future his feelings for Christy promise.

Terms of Surrender

The sound of a harmonica was one of the things Neil had missed in Scotland. It hadn’t occurred to him to bring one, but even if he’d had the funds, there wasn’t anywhere to play it that didn’t feel awkward and out of place. Truthfully, he had felt awkward and out of place, but his time spent quietly observing and learning at home had been quite useful abroad. Neil had integrated well, so well that he’d come home more Scots than Cove.

That thought made him think of Christy. As an outsider, her approach had been wildly different from his; where he’d stepped back and sought a niche, she’d charged ahead to forge her own. He couldn’t help but admire her spirit. Neil had come home changed, but Christy had changed his home. Without permission and without vitriol she’d gently but firmly established herself in Cutter Gap as someone with a heart twice as big as her stature, cheerfully taking the good with the bad. If he’d known then what he knew now, he’d have held himself back, been more… guarded around her.

As with so many of the important things in his life, Neil had realized this too late.

That realization was made all the more complicated on a day such as this, as they fought back a disease that threatened to take the lives of children he’d helped bring into the world. There was only so far a man could push away thoughts of the lives he couldn’t save, to say nothing of the apologies he’d held back until he was out of time.

That old familiar guilt struck a discordant chord with the mournful harmonica, enough to force a rueful chuckle from his lips. After all, he owed an apology to Christy, and this time he didn’t have the luxury of locking himself away until his reflection looked different enough to forget the needful.

Neil stood slowly, loath to disturb the delicate tableau of hopeful survival going on in the quarantine room. He remembered seeing Christy step out of the building looking distressed, but given his contribution to that expression, he’d focused intently on his notes in hopes that she’d avoid disturbing him.

Margaret would have called him a coward. “Apologize or don’t, Mac, but don’t pretend you’re taking the high road!”

His late wife’s admonition spurred Neil to walk around the schoolhouse, his steps curving him away from some hard truths and toward others. She’d hated the darkness of the mountains and loathed the quiet that seeped into a person’s bones to linger there. In a sense, loving him had dimmed Margaret’s fiercely fragile light until she’d run out of energy to fight off the disease that killed her. There was no making peace with that. 

He shut his eyes and tipped his head into the light breeze to clear his mind. When he opened them again, Neil saw the dim outline of a figure ahead of him, along the treeline where they’d been collecting firewood. It was Christy. The lanterns leading to the outhouse were just bright enough to see that her fists were clenched at her sides, and her head was tipped back, just as he’d just done.

“There’s solitary, and then there’s lonely. You can be lonely without being alone.”

Those words had haunted him since his wife had said them less than a month before her death. They’d sliced like a scalpel those first months, festered like a wound that refused to heal by a year’s time, before finally burrowing down to ache like a mended bone before a storm. Tonight was the first time he’d seen them as anything but hurtful; his wife had been many things (selfish, sensual, miserable, mesmerizing), but she had always been insightful. How had it taken him this long to realize what she’d really meant? That they could have been solitary together. That Margaret hadn’t needed to be lonely, if he’d been able to teach her how to share his solitude.

Neil stood in the silent shadow of the schoolhouse, his thoughts whipping around like a willow in a windstorm. There was a very clear reason why he was thinking of Margaret right now, and the truth of that scared him. It was the last clammy fear before the fever broke, the surge of adrenaline before closing a wound. He was letting her go, making space.

The thought was as presumptuous as it was intimidating.

“The apology, Mac. Don’t be an ass.”

Neil walked toward Christy slowly, shoring up his mental fortifications for the coming conflict.

“Battling it out with your god, are you?”

Christy shot him a look that he couldn’t discern in the half-light. “No need to poke fun, but yes. I don’t need to part the Red Sea, just pray hard enough for God to pass over this building without taking anyone.”

“Now who’s poking fun?” Neil said. He moved to stand beside her, both facing the fathomless expanse of forest. “I’ve always thought that story was particularly unfair; punishing the children for the sins of the fathers.”

“That’s not too different from feuding, don’t you think?” There was a tightness in her voice that was entirely his fault, top to bottom.

“Maybe I should walk away and start over,” he said, shoving at a small branch with his foot. “I’d come over here to apologize.”

Her silence lasted long enough for him to look over. Christy’s body language was armed for war, but her words were more shield than sword.

“You couldn’t have known about my sister. I’m a stranger, and it looked like I put your patients in danger.”

“You’re hardly a stranger, Christy. Despite my temper, I know you’ve only ever done your best to keep them safe, educated, and happy,” he countered. “I was wrong to shout at you.”

“You--” she broke off, arms dropping to her sides. 

“What? Did I just deprive you of a fight? I’m sure we can find something else,” Neil teased lightly. He opened his mouth to elaborate, but Christy jumped in to interrupt.

“Don’t! Let me savor the moment.”

The amusement in her voice cut straight through to the depths of his heart, as though his years of defenses and baggage were insubstantial in the face of her warmth. 

Christy turned to walk back toward the schoolhouse, and it was in the shock of those feelings that Neil caught her as she pitched sideways toward him, hissing in surprised pain. Immediately he set her hand on his shoulder and knelt down, finding her boot tangled in the ends of the branch he’d nudged earlier. That realization had him swearing under his breath.

“Is it bad? My ankle doesn’t feel--” Christy cut herself off, her voice pinched with fear.

“I was reacting to the culprit, not your injury. I’d tried to kick that branch out of the way. You’ll be fine after a few minutes, it’s just a wrong step.”

“So you swept me off my feet?” she whispered, finishing the sentence just as he straightened back up. The action slid her hand from his shoulder down to his chest-- and they stood with her words hovering between them like a heated breath in the deepest winter.

The lamplight lit her stress-mussed hair in soft gold, edging her features as if she were in an illuminated manuscript. Christy’s eyes were wide as she stared at her hand on his chest, perhaps as shocked as he was that she hadn’t pulled back. Just at that moment, a curl slipped free, and before he realized what he was doing, Neil tucked the soft lock behind her ear in an unmistakable caress.

The sound of her sucked-in breath shot adrenaline straight to his heart.

“I should--” she started, eyes still fixed on their point of contact. With the barest stroke of her thumb, she finally lifted her hand. “I should go. Will you promise to get some rest? I’ll take the first watch.”

The blood rushing in his ears spoke of the many things unresolved between them, and Neil reached out to stop her with a clumsy hand. “Wait--”

Christy pressed her eyes shut, her lip caught in her teeth. He longed to see the nuances of her expression-- was she annoyed but hiding it well? Blushing? Fearful?

“Hold still for a spell, let your ankle rest?” he offered. He didn’t move his hand, and she didn’t move away to dislodge it. For once, he didn’t hear the derisive tones of his conscience mocking those choices. Christy was hesitating, so he added, “I haven’t properly apologized.”

This prompted her to open her eyes and look at him. Whatever she saw there made her sway just slightly in his direction.

Maybe it was the stillness of the night, the hope of healing, the exhaustion from fighting so many things with so much of his strength, or perhaps it was the lightness of his finally untethered heart, but whatever the true reason was, Neil succumbed.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see you for who you truly are, Christy. Your heart is bright enough to light the whole Cove, and I’m grateful to be touched by it.” He released her arm and turned his hand to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek, then moved to walk away before he ruined both of their reputations.

Christy stopped him, not with words, but with an action that meant so much more: with surprising strength, she caught his hand, pressing his palm to her cheek. Then she did speak, and he was lost.

“You’re the coal that keeps us burning, Neil.”

The distant sound of the harmonica faded in the space between her action and his stuttering heart. Would John Spencer tuck the instrument into his pocket and make his way to the outhouse? Had he been interrupted by one of the children crying out for their help?

Stepping close, Neil set his other hand on her cheek and said, “I owe you more than an apology, Christy, even more so for this.” Dipping his head, he kissed her, meaning for it to be brief, a promise, not an end unto itself. He was foolish, forgetting her determination to never yield when she could persuade instead. Her hand moved up into his hair, burning a surer path than any bullet meant to stop his brain from functioning.

Despite every passing second marking the time between now and disaster if he didn’t pull back, Neil deepened the kiss, his arm banding around her waist to lift her up, ever so slightly. Then, with the reluctance of a victor forced to leave the spoils of war behind, he stepped away. His whole body buzzed with anxiety and pleasure, but he knew he’d overstepped badly.

“Forgive me, I-- I’ve held that back for quite some time,” he admitted. “When you brought me dinner, I must confess--”

“Oh! Please believe me, I had no idea, or I would never have presumed to take advantage like that.” Christy interrupted, her voice thick with regret. “Fairlight suggested the way to persuade you was through good cooked food. I suppose I failed there, as well!”

Neil took her hand and clasped it with both of his. “Your campaign for Dan Scott had me at your feet. When I realized that was all you’d come for, I was ready to send him to the devil, and the Mission too. The truth is, I’ve fallen for you, Christy. Hopelessly so.”

She lifted their joined hands to her lips. “I’d barely let myself think of such things, but when I dream… you’re always there, smiling at me, quarreling with me, teaching me--”

“Reality is hardly ever that idyllic,” he cautioned. Neil dislodged his hand from hers out of propriety, but inwardly his defenses were being dismantled, one uncertainty at a time.

“Only you would consider arguing with me idyllic!”

“Any time spent with you is a dream, I’ll freely admit that.” He grinned, adding, “If ye wish to prove it’s real, we can go on until I win an argument. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“You are insufferable,” Christy grumbled.

“Would it make it worse if I told you how lovely you look when you’re cross with me? It was all I could do not to--

“If you say something about sweeping me off my feet, Neil MacNeil, I’ll--” She stopped short, clearly realizing that he’d prompted exactly the kind of cross reaction he enjoyed.

“Do I need to?” Neil started, but a bobbing lantern light near the schoolhouse caught his attention. Thinking quickly, he moved to pick up some of the cut wood and branches near where they’d been standing, nodding to Christy to do the same. By the time Fairlight made it around the corner, the two of them were almost to the outhouse.

“Doc find you screamin’ at the sky, then?”

“Bargaining, more like,” Neil said. “I think it ended on a truce?” He turned toward her, selfishly needing to see her indignation.

Once again, she bested him.

“Victory,” Christy asserted. “I had a talk with God, and he sent me a sign of healing.”

Neil angled his arms so that a small log fell off, allowing him to hide his expression as he picked it back up. Thankfully, the two women had resumed their walk back to the front of the schoolhouse by the time he stood up. Healing! Her innocent audacity took his breath away, as always. There was a lot of rebuilding to be done, all of it in the harsh light of day, but he was intensely grateful for that temporary bubble of solitude they’d been able to find in each other.

The thought had occurred before the significance dawned on him, and Neil stopped short, stunned.

Healing. It was something he’d fought to achieve for others his entire life yet somehow was gifted without warning or design, in the middle of the night during quarantine, no less! This new beginning was fitting, he supposed, and like all beginnings, there would be a lot of adjusting to be done for both of them. 

They’d be able to do it together.

[darsynia]

📓

Send me a book emoji in my ask box and I'll describe a story I've never written but dreamed about!

A Tony Stark/OC kidfic where Tony has a special agreement with the government after HYDRA's infiltration is discovered, where everything is run through a program that cross-references the HYDRA files just in case there's a connection.

In 2016 he gets a hit: a DNA match after a paternity test that shows the child is HIS. But why is HYDRA involved? And... he has a kid??

When he shows up at the house, so does a HYDRA goon who tries to kidnap the 8 year old girl--except she massively outsmarts the guy with booby traps and robots in her room. Which is adorned with Captain America stuff. Also, he's never met her mother before...

Over the course of trying to protect the kid and her mother, it's discovered that Tony and she had attended the same MIT conference and stayed at the same hotel. HYDRA agents drugged both of them and impregnated her after obtaining sperm from him. Their goal had been to exploit Tony's death in Afghanistan according to Stane's contract, but to flip the script on Stane by showing that they had an heir, meaning that Stane was at their mercy unless he played ball with all their schemes.

When Tony survived, they laid low and let the woman assume her pregnancy was just a mixup with her current partner. Then SHIELDRA went down and the project went under deep cover, until now.

The story would eventually result in Tony bonding with his kid and falling for her mother (who I was writing to be half South Asian, with help from a few friends of that ancestry). If you think about it, ALL of Civil War is about family, found and otherwise, and the theme of Tony being an actual dad would have changed things for him. The final scene would have been the kid using the miniature Iron Man suit he'd built for her to follow Steve and Bucky because she'd studied their historical counterparts and is certain she can smoothe things over with her dad and her favorite superhero.

I chickened out because of the weight of writing a POC OC, if I'm honest! I just don't think I can do it right enough. I'm also pretty anti-kidfic lately after parenting struggles, so this one may remain in the memory banks.

It's called Because Love Battles, after a Pablo Neruda poem:

And because love battles not only in its burning agriculture,  but also in the mouth of men and women,  I'll end challenging the path  of those who between my chest and your fragrance  want to interpose their obscure figure.

About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you. What more can they tell you? I am neither good nor bad, but a man. ~Love Battles, by Pablo Neruda

[darsynia]

Ao3 wrapped💕

Favorite title you used?

Your favorite character to write this year?

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Eee, thank you!!

Favorite Title: Ephemera wins narrowly, because I love that the word means both something temporary, impermanent, fleeting-- but also 'memorabilia.' The Artist!Reader creates memorial sculptures out of the burned ashes of things brought to her by survivors of the snap. They're physical manifestations of the precious dust that fluttered out of reach, something those left behind can touch and hold onto, in a way they couldn't when it first happened. (Steve/Reader 3k)

Your favorite character to write this year? 'Prince of Industry' Tony Stark traveling on the Titanic* in Nearer, My God, To Thee wins this one easily. It was just delightful to take the character we already know and put him in a setting we all recognize, and watch him thrive and survive in it. (Steve/Tony 16k)

Favorite work you wrote this year? OOF this is hard. Either Nearer, linked in the previous question, or Just Right. I started JR as a fun, 'what if Steve Rogers can only realize he should make a move on Reader if another Steve Rogers does it first?' It ended up being a heartfelt Endgame Fix-It, with a couple of plot twists that I'm deeply proud of (thanks, Ro!). (Steve/Reader 27k)

Biggest surprise while writing this year? Taking the plunge and writing a story for a 30 year old dead fandom (Christy) and having that end up being a sheer delight. For years and years I wished I could find fic of my foundational romantic pair, and once I stopped looking and wrote it myself, I was surprised and honored to get comments from others just like me, who had longed for closure for the show, which ended on a cliffhanger. I truly expected 50 hits at most, but with a few chapters left to write, it has had a reception I could never have dared hope for. (Neil MacNeill/Christy Huddleston 65k)

*Titanic AU, but not the movie version!

Thank you so much for this! I'll tag a couple of folks, with some other folks in mind that I'm not tagging so they don't feel obligated. If you think that's you, please participate, ILU 💚: @chickensarentcheap @ronearoundblindly @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @arrthurpendragon @sobeautifullyobsessed

[darsynia]

You fan fic specialty is excellence in everything you write.🥰

(and I swear that I'm totally okay with feeling like I'm a clumsy amatuer after I read anything you've written)

(go on, guess who sent this😄)

Sorry to make you wait for a response! I was actually being productive with housework (which I never am) and saving this for after I got something significant done.

This is a lovely compliment, and thank you so very much-- must add, I think you know I'd never want you to feel like that, and you definitely are not (and it shows in your work that you are not)!

So many great and small things contribute to productivity (for those struggling with writer's block in particular). Forgive yourself, anyone reading this (and the dear one who sent this 💚), when your method of loving yourself best is writing but you cannot write at present. It's a specific and personal kind of pain, and if I could spare you from it, I surely would.

Ok so while I was thinking about what to say to you, I thought about how we make connections with each other just like brains make connections and that sometimes it feels like society emphasizes the importance of thinking more than friendship?? And how technically we taught stones how to talk (the internet) with magnetism, heh.

I hope it's not presumptuous to share this with you.

Reaching

As synapses form by reaching out for a connection, So do we as humans stretch out With inspiration on our fingertips. Then: dipped into mud-paint and danced across cave walls. Now: scattered like seeds across a web brought forth from the confluence of synapse and stone.

Were it not for others also reaching Our seeds and lonely hearts would languish alike in sterile soil. Connection brings forth art, and Connection wove the web, but Inspiration gave us the drive to discover that synapses exist at all!

Keep reaching.

Editing in because my brain is convinced I've been horribly rude: thank you SO very much truly, such a sweet thing to say!

[darsynia]

Fake fic title: When the Party's Over!!!

A Stony oneshot where Tony's pining for Steve post Winter Soldier. Steve notices that Tony's done significantly fewer parties/gala things since New York, and he talks with Sam about it, thinking it's PTSD.

He stages a one-person intervention that looks like a dinner invitation to hang out, and Tony's really on edge through all of the small talk. Tony finally grits out 'what is this all about?' and Steve carefully and kindly goes into how he recognizes the signs of PTSD and he's done some research and he wants to help, he knows Tony works with the military but he isn't actually part of the whole complex, so he's on the outside when it comes to resources like Sam's stuff.

Tony laughs. He's flippant, defensive, and Steve thinks this is about not wanting to be 'caught' having a weakness, and he says so. Tony explodes, says his weakness is Steve, not trauma, and Steve doesn't get it, he thinks it's jealousy, he thinks it's about Howard's obsession to find him when Tony was young.

Steve's not getting it, and Tony's vulnerable and all his escape routes are gone and his buttons are being pushed, so he kisses Steve, thinking that'll send him away. It... does not.

During the 'deconstructing what just happened' phase the concept that Steve thought Tony was withdrawing from society is broached, and Tony says that wasn't it at all.

"I just realized I was having more fun hanging out with you when the party was over than I ever was when it was still going."

[darsynia]

Do you have your Stephen Strange fics listed anywhere for easy reference?

I do, thanks for asking! In my MCU Masterlist I have a section for Stephen; admittedly it's underneath the Tony and Steve sections, which given that I have masterlists for them individually, I probably ought to clean that up and let people go to those for their fics, barring 1 or 2 favorites.

For Stephen, I have... an ongoing series (suspicion to lovers Stephen/OC) and (Stephen/Reader established relationship) three (Stephen/Reader sort-of soulmate) oneshots! (Stephen/OC where Stephen 'prime' plays matchmaker with his own variant)

I appreciate the interest 💚

[darsynia]

You're an amazing writer, and I really enjoy your Tony Stark x OC fics. But I'm curious- although I don't see OCs as contradicting canon because there are multiple realities, I'm just wondering how you feel about him and Pepper together.

Thank you so very much! 🥺

I'll be honest, if Tony and Pepper are happy, I'm happy with them together. I don't know that I'd consider them an ideal partnership, but how many successful relationships have to be ideal to work? Especially not when you're married to a superhero! A lot of the flaws I see in their relationship come from writing choices by the MCU, usually placing Pepper in direct contrast to whatever Tony needs most, as an obstacle rather than a person. I'd love to know about Pepper herself, what makes her happy, what her life is like as a successful CEO, who she spends time with other than Tony, etc. Not for nothing, but we saw those things with Rhodey, saw characterization stuff for Sam in Cap movies, it's possible to round out a character if they want to.

Generally with my OC stories I like to put Pepper with Happy (as the comics do, afaik, pre-Pepper/Tony), or fulfilled in her work and able to move on, because I don't have any animus against her as a character. The writing choices that have sidelined her and made her shrill and obstacle-y aren't her fault, and I don't hold those against her. My favorite Pepper moments are that 'I'm having 12% of a moment' scene in Avengers 1, and the scene on the couch in Endgame. Both times she seems happy, in love, fulfilled, and advocating for herself.

Thanks for asking, anon! I think I've written something like 500k words of Tony Stark/OC fic and in none of them was Pepper dead or a villain, and I'm proud of that, honestly. (note: my brain wants me to apologize if that seems like I'm boasting! I felt it was relevant because as a Hermione fan who doesn't like Ron Weasley much, I always took the road that it's better to set an unwanted canon character aside in a kindly way, rather than a harsh one. Too many 'drunk, abusive Ron Weasley' stories made me loath to do that to Pepper Potts)

[darsynia]

Thabk you for blessing me with that gif set of Xenik on my dash omg....I loved him so much in the movie. (I may be a tad biased tho since my dnd character is a paladin also haha)

Oh my goodness, that's so delightful! You're welcome! I was the 'slams hand on reblog' meme when I saw it, my GOSH.

I'm not currently involved in D&D, but my husband is the consummate paladin. He's so good at playing the righteousness in the most world-buildingly frustrating ways, too! It's a hoot!

As a long-time player of Diablo II and III, I've always adored Paladins myself. I'm definitely going to have to check out that film!

STRAIGHT into our hearts.

[darsynia]

How much of your series do you have finished before you start posting? Do you have the full thing finished the post on a schedule; do you have some of it written and just write to stay ahead; do you post as you finish each next part? Something else?

So I do it many different ways, depending on the story! This one I am writing as I go, so when I finish a chapter, I post it, and it's not written ahead. When I have fewer WiPs going on at once, I tend to have more written ahead (I prefer that, because then I feel less impulsive to post it ASAP instead of letting it sit and rereading a chunk of time later before I post), but it happens that right now I have a million things WHOOPS haha.

*handwaves* CHAOS *more hand waving*

[darsynia]

Hugs. 💚💚💚💚💚

Thanks so much, these are lovely! I'm doing better today, though I did make some decisions while I wasn't fully myself (med refill delay and stress) which may have some clean-up conversations due. I promise that anything I did or said over the past few days wasn't meant as something mean, if it came off that way, I'm very sorry!

I hope all is well with you, after the string of losses you experienced. You're a light and a delight and I'm so pleased to know you through Tumblr 💚

[darsynia]

Hey honey - checking in to see how you & your lovelies are doing. Did you & Hubs beat that game yet? I hope life has settled down some, or at least cut you some much deserved slack.

Take care, my friend, and remember there are many here that think of you with love!🥰🥰

Just hugging this one last time and sending it back out into the world! Thank you so much! We 'beat' the game insofar as it was fun, and stopped when it wasn't (big flaws, hopefully in a year or so they'll get it where it needs to be). I'm big into Baldur's Gate 3 when I'm not writing, it's an entire blast, so that's nice!

I've thought of you 'early and often' over the hiatus, and I really appreciate your sweet encouragement and kindness!

[darsynia]

Hey Darsynia! Just wanted to pop into your asks and wish you a week ahead that has much less stress and better news for your whole family!

This guy wanted me to make sure you knew that!

I can't even tell you how many times I popped in here and looked at this and the other asks that anons and other lovely users have sent me over the summer. I treasure this and you 💚

[darsynia]

I'm going to give you some choices here. The first from the MCU:

Clint Francis Barton

Clint Barton would give you his opinion, maybe even when you weren't ready to hear it, but he would also always have your back. He'd be there for your highs and your lows, and especially in your lows, he'd help hold you up until you could stand on your own again, and he wouldn't judge you (except maybe a little). He'd also be there for your kids without question, and he'd be a great (usually) role model. But he's not just a staid, boring kinda family guy. He also has a wild side that keeps you on your toes and reminds you to have fun and that life isn't just about responsibilities.

Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

Okay, so Tommy Shelby kills a lot of people, but ultimately, he's a pretty good guy. Family, to him, is everything, even when they're pissing him off. He still would die or kill for them - or if nothing else, he'll get into politics for them to make things better as best he can. He'll even try to take down the whole of the Nazi party, and how can someone killing Nazis be a bad partner? TOTALLY THE BEST PARTNER. Also he's for the little guy, the underdog, the working man (and women); he respects sex workers as his equals.

Polly Gray (Peaky Blinders)

Badass lady with a heart of gold and an attitude of steel. No nonsense, family is everything, supports women's rights with an iron fist. Puts up with no bullshit, especially not from men. I mean, just look at her. Excuse me, but I'll be in my bunk.

Well first of all I am OVER THE MOON with this omg. Thank you! I should have done pics this is so professional I am in awe!

I would DELIGHT in Clint, 100%. I agree, he's a fabulous combination of a heart made of solid gold and the kind of man who would reach into his own chest and throw that heart around, if need be. What a thrilling, sexy life with a baseline of family and encouragement! I'm all for the Brady Bunch life I'd live with Clint, for real. Our oldest girls can bond over how stressful it is to keep everyone in line, even their parents.

I have not watched Peaky Blinders but I am INTRIGUED. There is definitely a dangerous, can-count-on-me vibe that Tommy is giving me from being a fandom in-law. No quarter for those who don't deserve, passionate intensity for those who do, the morals where it counts, the exceptions when needed. I'm on board!

WELL HELLO MA'AM.

God, she looks like the kind of badass you hope is on your side! Chaos ladies in red lipstick and wry disdain, I'll uh, just be over here fanning myself and mispelling things in my distraction! Genuinely love this trip down partner lane, thanks so much dear!!

[darsynia]

Shipping you with Tony, naturally, but also with Clint or Natasha. Or both.

Also shipping you with (outside of the MCU):

Caro (Maggie Smith's character from Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood)

Gillian Owens (from Practical Magic)

Cesare Borgia (from The Borgias), and same actor, but from Midnight, Texas - Manfred Bernardo.

Oooh thank you so much for this! Sorry all hell broke loose (it's still breaking loose. There are three giant holes in my lawn) and I wasn't able to respond to this for a little while!!

Love all three of those MCU chars so much, fully on board, gosh. Caro looks like a serious blast, I feel like I've let you down in my choices on yours 😅 And I've been IN LOVE with the movie Practical Magic for years so hell fucking yes! a prequel on hbo max excuse me WHAT

And ooh this guy has a lot of the vibes from characters I love! I'll take it!

Thank you dearest! NGL I can't find the post about this but if anyone sees this and wants to send me an ask of what characters you'd ship me with that'd be swell, I'll do the same for you!!

[darsynia]

Good morning 🤩

🌻 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notes, anonymous or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog 🌻

This is sweet... LOL at my cinematic life:

My dad was a Catholic priest+. He was born in 1935, joined 'gonna be a priest' high school at 13 years old, did his college degree in ROME with classes in English, Latin, and Italian, and was a prison chaplain in Texas when my mom met him in the 70's. They wrote letters and spoke on the phone back and forth for FIVE YEARS falling in love, huge age gap romance taboo thing (gosh where did I learn all my romance tropes) until they finally chucked it all and got married after a torrid affair during which I was conceived. He was 44 when he left. They loved each other PASSIONATELY and superbly and he died when he was 60 years old. Best romance I've ever known. I remember being 8 and telling myself not to expect to have a love like that (I was wrong! I am very lucky!!)

I lived in a religious commune for years as a kid. Literally communal, to the point where everyone's paycheck went in a pot and each person got the same stipend to live off of. The group included a multi-platinum recording group from the '70s, and I was on 2 of their subsequent records, once as a kid, and once as a young adult.

Barack Obama follows me on Twitter! I joined in 2008 when he was campaigning and asked people to follow him, he's the 6th person who followed me, haha. I have never abused my ability to DM him on there though.

+ Bonus: my dad having grown up in that world means his experience with it is more 1600's than twentieth century, lol. He had WILD stories of he and his fellow priests going on vacation and having hijinx?? Like they had a swear jar but you had to put money in if you forgot to swear.

[darsynia]

Hello love - not sure if people are getting my Asks yet, but here goes:

Happy Mother's Day!

PS I have yet to read your Peter Quill fic, but I'm setting a reminder for myself not to miss out on it!

I held onto this so long it's FATHER'S DAY girl I'm sorry but I know you are okay with it 💚 Thanks a million, right back atcha!! I gotta remember to post another chapter of Present Imperfect tomorrow or tonight!

There is a glorious peace to not feeling the weight of being behind, thanks to the grace of lovely friends like you! So thanks for sending this, and thanks for understanding as I unfurl my rose once again :)