i may or may not be trying to write this actually

6

"Sometimes I keep wondering why a son of Odin would want to order a weapon from an ordinary citizen like me," the blacksmith said absentmindedly, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He really needed a glass of water right now. A drink, actually.

Loki was about to say something when Tony talked again a couple of seconds after the silence he had put for dramatical effect. With a foxy grin on his face and the prince feared for the cleverness of what would come next.

"Then I remember I’m Tony fucking Stark."

Oh the surprise.

Capture these images - Jess standing in front of the burn barrel, warming her hands over the fading smoke, watching the hallucination of Roger with Henry, playing with the leaves even as the boy tries to rake them together, making faces as he notices Jessica watching but she can’t laugh, can only feel her throat grow tight because this is how he would have been if they’d had a child and Regina passing by him, hand on his shoulder, not smiling because she doesn’t have to - the yellow does that for her - and she looks up, eyes searching Jessica’s (“Miss Rabbit, there is a fire right there.  You don’t need another one.”) but Jessica is still watching the Rabbit and Regina looks for what isn’t there and takes her inside while her son rakes under the guise of making hot cocoa and apple cider - the adults, they always rink - but while Henry is outside and preoccupied she becomes her distraction - not out of love or some sense of payment but because maybe there’s a reason for the bleach, for her secretary trying to die, and maybe she needs to remind her that there are things worth living for - and although the hunger means nothing to either of them, it is at least a distraction from the darkness they don’t know and the people they cannot see.