#* well uh except for wilson hes still the number 1 but you get the point

[bloody-sick-of-1973]

So far LOOOOOVING House md s4 I LOVE KUTNER AND 13 SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE AURGHHHHHHHHH THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME

[bulkyphrase]

Everybody & the Avengers Team

I've got a new fic rec list for you!

The stories in the "X & the Avengers Team" tags focus on one person's relationship to the Avengers team as a whole. Courtesy of AO3's tag browse and Excel, here's a ranked list of the top 20 most popular pairings:

Tony Stark | 2470 total, 240 OTP

Peter Parker | 2255 total, 85 OTP

Steve Rogers | 602 total, 56 OTP

Loki | 387 total, 26 OTP

Natasha Romanov | 308 total, 35 OTP

Clint Barton | 268 total, 46 OTP

Bruce Banner | 244 total, 15 OTP

Thor | 209 total, 7 OTP

Avengers Team | 174 total, 24 OTP

James "Bucky" Barnes | 156 total, 7 OTP

Wanda Maximoff | 143 total, 4 OTP

Phil Coulson | 105 total, 9 OTP

Darcy Lewis | 91 total, 6 OTP

Matt Murdock | 60 total, 8 OTP

Sam Wilson | 53 total, 5 OTP

Nick Fury | 41 total, 5 OTP

Harry Potter | 40 total, 0 OTP

Pepper Potts | 31 total, 1 OTP

Vision | 29 total, 2 OTP

Stiles Stilinski | 25 total, 0 OTP

In chart form, if you like charts:

Notes:

The numbers after the names are the number of stories tagged with that ship. OTP means the number of stories where that is the only relationship tagged on the story. Numbers are accurate as of July 2021.

Story Recommendations

For your reading pleasure, included below is at least one fic rec for each pairing except the crossovers from non-Marvel fandoms (apologies to Mr. Potter & Mr. Stilinski). Most are gen fic, and even in the ones with a romantic pairing, romance is not the focus.

Tony Stark

As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration by petroltogo (Teen, 8949) tumblr: @tonystarktogo

Standing inside his penthouse, listening to Rogers, Barton and Banner explain to Fury how they just happened to stumble over the Tesseract on a routine security check of Stark Tower’s roof and wouldn’t you know, they’ve managed to fight off the looming alien invasion before it could really start and secure the missing overpowered nightlight is one of the most surreal situations Tony has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Peter Parker

the worst field trip ever by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Teen, 3420) tumblr: @i-am-having-an-emotion

"We're on a field trip," Peter said. "To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?"

Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.

Steve Rogers

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (Teen, 11022) tumblr: @galaxythreads

That seems about right. He doesn't know how he knows that, though. He does have vague memories of an annoyed fondness at finding peanut butter in some sort of jam. Thor's doing, because he doesn't see the point of using two knives when one works just as fine. He knows that. How does he know that? He knows all those little details, though, almost innately. How can he know these strangers so deeply?

Everyone else below the cut!

Loki

Proprietary by TheThirdMarauder (Teen, 7639)

No, Loki simply wants the Avengers conquered. The details of whom, how, and when matter not. Unless, of course, said details interfere with Loki's plans. Then, well, then none can fault him for protecting his own interests.

Loki has always been exceptionally good at lying to himself.

Natasha Romanov

What Girls Are Made Of by enigma731 (Teen, 4613) tumblr: @enigma731

She rolls her eyes but does as he’s indicated, using his shoulders to leverage herself up onto his back, her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his waist.

“You know,” he says blithely, “this isn’t really what I tend to picture when I think of a hot girl riding me.”

Natasha groans, deciding that if his sense of humor gets them arrested, she’ll kill him herself. “Just go.”

Clint Barton

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (Teen, 4221)

With a normal person, this might count as blackmail material, but a) this is a case of mutually assured destruction if ever there was one, and b) Fury is immune to embarrassment. Not just in the regular, Tony Stark way, either, oh no. Things that could possibly end up being embarrassing to Fury get somehow warped and changed until they go from mortifying all the way over into useful and/or good for his image. It’s like a superpower.

Carrying Clint’s small child self around on his shoulders more than once has probably already hit the interagency rumour mill as an example of Fury’s innate awesomeness: good with rocket launchers and small children.

Also available as a podfic!

Bruce Banner

They're Not Wrong by Trumpeteer34 (Teen, 10163)

As Tony began to pace around the hole in the road to keep himself from shooting repulsors at the nearby buildings in a fit of rage, Thor began to study the nearby area. There was no sign of either the Hulk or Bruce Banner beyond the crater. The surrounding area, aside from the rubble of the fight, held no clue as to their friend’s location.

“Guys, he’s gone,” Tony growled into the communicator on their private line, drawing Thor out of his darkening thoughts. “Someone tranqed him and took him. He’s gone.”

Honorary mention goes to the Responsible Science series by @letteredlettered - the stories don’t have the "Avengers Team & Bruce Banner" tag, but they could, and they are amazing. The best Bruce Banner writing I've ever come across.

Thor

Fortunately, I Am Mighty by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 3062)

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you okay?”

Thor nodded. Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, because now there were little gray lights flashing in front of his eyes. “I’m fine.” Absolutely everyone narrowed their eyes, and he added, “But, uh. Could we possibly not get back in the car just yet?”

Avengers Team

Civil Wasn't by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 7123)

"We're having an ideological conflict here," Tony stated with disbelief. "Are you telling me you still want to go out to dinner?"

"It's a standing engagement, Tony," Rhodey reminded him.

"Not you too—"

"We already had to reschedule from Friday when Natasha was..." Rhodey frowned. "What were you doing?"

The question was directed toward Natasha, who shrugged and said, "Spy stuff."

James "Bucky" Barnes

You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter (Not Rated, 4511) tumblr: @ifeelbetterer

“As you may have heard, Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. The Winter Soldier, recently rescued a tiny part-robot dinosaur during the Avengers’ battle with Dr. Doom in Antarctica,” the other newscaster explained. “Pictures of Barnes and the dinosaur were posted on twitter by fellow Avenger, Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, and immediately made Barnes’s new pet America’s sweetheart.”

“Her name’s Muffy,” said Steve."

Wanda Maximoff

and the woman was young again by Mira_Jade (General, 3669)

Tony Stark called them the Cap's Kooky Quintet, and sometimes the term amused her – causing her to lift a sardonic brow where someday a smile would truly smile. She enjoyed the presence of comrades – true comrades – and she enjoyed the way their minds wove and bound together about each other to fluctuate against her senses as one. There was something soothing about being in their midst, and even when their loud and brash ways – their painful Americaness - rubbed her raw and drained on her, it was ever the knitting of their minds that soothed those moments over, and made them inconsequential.

Phil Coulson

Coulson's First Day of School by storiesfortravellers (Teen, 3055)

Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”

Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.

Darcy Lewis

Beginner Yoga for Dummies (Darcys) and Sad Hobos by chailover (Teen, 3434)

Darcy had a theory: crazy attracted crazy, working kind of like gravity. It was pretty much her explanation for her life after Thor. And if she had thought the type of crazy Thor attracted was bad, be it Loki or the Warrior Three and Sif, or the dark elves and the Convergence, it was still nothing against what the Avengers manage en masse.

Matt Murdock

Double Blind by smilebackwards (Teen, 2381) tumblr: @smilebackwards

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.”

“Does it?” Matt says, ambiguously.

Sam Wilson

Bystander by scribblemetimbers (Teen, 52029)

“I just want you to know,” Sam says loudly, cautiously raising his hands, “That I’m very poor and very sleep-deprived and literally the only thing you can kill me for right now are my notes.” He pauses. Wait. On second thought: “Please don’t steal my notes.”

“I’m not—I’m not a mugger,” Not Mugger rasps out, and for all that he looks about to keel over and die, the man actually manages to sound offended.

Nick Fury

Bedtime Story by dixiehellcat (Teen, 2532) tumblr: @deehellcat

Fury snorted. “I have to check in with the duty officer. I’ll be back in, let’s say twenty minutes. I expect all of you to have whatever your pre-bedtime routines are completed, and be in here pajama’ed and ready to be read to.”

He tapped the book under his arm, then left with the usual dramatic swish of his long coat. Bruce scratched his head. “Did…he just say be ready to be read to?”

Pepper Potts

Pepper and the Avengers (Which She Knows Nothing About) by rebelmeg (General, 6696) tumblr: @rebelmeg

The Avengers, that mismatched group of hurt and heroism, was one of the most important things in Tony Stark’s life. So, naturally, Pepper had made them an important part of her life too.

Vision

039. Intoxicated by aimmyarrowshigh (Teen, 100) tumblr: @aimmyarrowshigh

It might be nice to fit in, just this once. To lose a bit of composure.

Vision floated over to the refrigerator and, with some timidity, pulled off a magnet. He stuck it to his forehead.

[levi-inthesun]

Two Can Play At That Game, Part 2

A/N: OKAY HERE IS PART 2! There will be at least one more part, and I apologize in advanced for 2 reasons: 1. I had a nerve ablation done on my cervical spine (c 3-5) and am in pain and 2. this is the closest thing to smut I have even written. (Oh, and 3 bc I BaRlEy edited this).. Last, the Ace of Diamonds is the reader’s super-spy name (that I came up with as a last-ditch effort, sue me)

Warnings: SexuAL TENSION, swearing, some angst.bc I’m a hoe for confronting difficult emotions.

Panic began to build in your chest, at least you were pretty sure that’s what it was., you couldn’t breathe and normally you only felt that when you were panicking and right now, you couldn’t breathe.

“Uh,” you started, words not coming, “I uh, I’m sorry Bucky, I only see you as a friend.”

Bucky watched your mouth open and close like a fish out of water for a second before smiling, He leaned in close so that is lips were practically touching your ear. “And who says friends can’t fuck? You can’t deny the tension here.”

You could feel a coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were suddenly aware that you couldn’t breathe for a completely different reason. Then Bucky pushed off the wall and walked away. 

“Anyways, I’ll see ya later!”

It took a second for your breathing to get back to normal, but when it did you yelled down the hall after him, “I did not like that! Not one bit! I dare you to try that shit on me again, Barnes!”

The only sound you were met with was laughter.

You slammed the door to your room and locked it behind you.

“Aaaahh!” you screamed into your hands. “What the actual hell. I am so not equipped for this.” 

Ignoring the tension you felt in your body you plopped down on your bed and grabbed your laptop, opening up tumblr. Front and center was an update by theactualfalcon.

Hello, my falconettes, I am writing this post just in case I am murdered by my friends, our number one OTP, the Ace of Diamonds and the Winter Soldier. They came across my blog and read yours and my favorite story I wrote, Star Crossed Lovers and I walked in just as she read out the name of my blog. Unfortunately, my face was too telling and they automatically knew it was me. No matter my fate, please understand that I regret nothing. Although, I think I  underestimated their power together; they’re too strong, too powerful and I hope and pray to any god who is listening (except Thor or Loki) that they only stay a ship in our dreams.

Yours,

Sam Wilson, the actual Falcon.

You had to cover your face with a pillow to stop you from screaming and laughing too loud. Sam had been serious! He actually wanted you and old man Barnes to bang, at least, he used to. That is when the plan began to form and you send a quick text from your phone. After that, you hopped off your bed and booked it to your large closet and tore open the doors. After rifling through your belongings you found what you were looking for and changed your clothes.

You were working on your hair when you heard your phone ping.

Pepper: I’ll spread the word, is there a reason we should all avoid the compound?

You: Yes. Sam has a tumblr and is apparently the number 1 fan of Barnes and I getting together, at least he was until this morning. I am going to get back at him by making him think we ARE getting together. Figured I would spare everyone else.

Pepper: You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course, it’s for a prank. However, thank you for sparing us. I don’t think the team would survive.

Pepper: Just… don’t catch any actual feelings unless you’re ready for the consequences.

You: Yeah, yeah. Are we still down for a girl's night next weekend?

At that, you put your phone back down and finished getting ready before standing up and smoothing the slinky nightdress over your form.

“Check fucking mate, Banky Burnes.”

Using your skills as a spy, you creep through the hallways of the compound until you found yourself in the empty living room. Quickly, you light the fireplace and pull out the numerous candles you had on hand in essentially every room of the compound you had access too- and you had access to just about every room, even the ones you didn’t have a key too. Once the last one was lit, you quietly asked FRIDAY to play the playlist you had created (named *Seduce Barnes, Fool Wilson*) and skillfully lay your body across the very appropriately placed chaise lounge, which you were incredibly glad you had talked Tony, the drama queen into purchasing. 

Just on cue, you heard Bucky clunking through the compound hallways towards you.

“Hey, is everything alright, I smell-” Bucky halted at the entrance to the living room, eyes wide. You could tell he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned with the sheer amount of fire in the room or keep his eyes on your form.

“Hello, James,” you called out to him, voice low. 

“H-hey,” Bucky swallowed, pulling his collar away from his neck. “A-are you sure this is safe?” 

You smiled slowly, looking up at him from below your lashes, “The fire? Or the spark between us?”

You could have sworn you saw Bucky mouth the words ‘fuck yes’ to himself, but you weren’t positive because the moment he began to step in your direction you began to question your own sanity. Sure, you had seduced hundreds of men for missions and just for the fun of it, of course. And yes, every single time you managed to get them in whatever position you needed them to be in to extract pertinent information or simply to bang someone because you were bored, but that's besides the point. The point was, you were always successful and this was BANKY BURNES FOR FUCKS SAke. 

Now, Bucky was standing over you not sure what to do with himself and your face did not even twitch from the mental emotional turmoil you had just gone through. 

“So, Barnes,” you purred. “You gonna come down here, or am I gonna have to climb you like the tree you are?” 

Internally, you were wheezing at the line you had just used… did you really call BANKY BURNES A TREE?

Bucky didn’t move, so you moved into a kneeling position and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Sam will be here in precisely a minute and a half and if you do not kiss me like you mean to have me, we cannot get back at him like I’ve been planning all damn afternoon,” you tugged harshly on his shirt so he was now nose to nose with you. “Are you in or out?”

You saw all of heaven and hell pass through Bucky’s face as he grit his teeth, “You got me horny to get back at Sam, what the fuck?” 

“And you, for earlier, not fun, huh?” You did your best to smile mischievously but you weren’t really sure how well that turned out. 

Bucky huffed, “Shit, he’s coming. Yeah, I’m in.”

The second his soft, plump lips made contact with yours, you knew you were maybe fucked.

At first, you simply relaxed into the kiss, although not a part of your elaborate plan. In your head though, you were counting out the seconds before Sam walked through the door. 

Then Bucky’s entirely too large hands firmly grabbed your hips, spurring your forwards. You hooked your leg over his hip before flipping him over. Now that he was lying on the dramatic chaise lounge, you planted your knees on either side of his strong hips and attached your lips to the spot just below his jaw and ear and threaded your fingers in his too soft hair, tugging a little too roughly.

And just as Sam walked through the door, Bucky growled in your ear and that dumb coil in your stomach began to grow tighter and this was becoming too real but you couldn’t didn’t want to stop yourself.

Bucky managed to rotate positions so that you were on your back and he was hovering above you, you head hanging over the end of the lounge, ever so slightly, Bucky began to suck wet kisses on your neck and chest as his hands gripped your hips, rucking your nightgown up ever so slightly and you had the perfect view of Sam standing in the middle of the open kitchen, too many bags of groceries falling out of his hands, eyes, and mouth open wide. 

“Bucky,” you purred, “We have company.” 

Unfortunately Bucky stopped his ministrations and looked up.

“WHaT THE ActuAL FUCK,” Sam began yelling. “I diD NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN!”

Sam began pacing furiously, mumbling to himself, then stopped suddenly pointing at the two of you who haven’t moved a single inch except for Bucky’s stupid metal right hand which had moved approximately 2 inches up, further moving your nightgown, but you weren’t focusing on that, no that was simply the spy in you paying attention. 

“YOU SET THIS UP!” He finally yelled, an ‘aha’ in his voice. “This isn’t real,” he stated matter of factly, then picked up his groceries and began putting them away. 

You rolled your eyes and pushed the massive man away from you and began blowing out candles, forcing tears to your eyes. 

“Sam Wilson,” you said, voice watery, “You ruined a perfect night.”

Then you ran off towards your room, slowing once you were out of sight. 

You heard Bucky huff with annoyance once the last candle was out, “You had to make my girl upset?” he ground out before following you. 

By the time Bucky made his way to you, you were leaning up against his door, pouting (for effect, and just in case redwing followed). 

By the look in your eyes, Bucky knew redwing was peeking around the corner. 

“‘M sorry baby,” he said softly, running a finger down your cheek, tracing your jaw. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You allowed a small smile to form on your lips and suddenly felt very warm in the pit of your stomach, “Oh? How so?” 

“Well,” he started, settling one of his thick legs between yours while running his stupid metal hand down your left arm, “How about we head into my room and you can find out?” 

You willed you fucking head to nod and felt Bucky’s arm wrap around your waist just as he opened the door.

Once the door to his room was closed, however, and to your surprise, Bucky had you pinned to the wall,

“Please let me fucking kiss you,” Bucky growled.

“Do it,” you replied, voice hushed.

Bucky’s lips were not at all the same against yours as they were when you were in the living room. Compared to this, that was practiced and calculated. This was searing. The way his hot lips burned across your was made your heart constrict you and your toes curl and you kissed back with equal force.

You tore your hands from where they were gripping his shoulders to push at his abdomen with enough strength that he knew to move (you knew from enough missions and training sessions that that man wouldn’t move if he didn’t need to). Bucky let you push him back towards his bed but turned before the backs of his legs made contact and instead picked you up and chucked you onto it unceremoniously.

“You,” he started, voice husky, “are going to be,” he said as he climbed onto the bed and pulled on your leg so that you met him halfway, “the fucking death of me.” 

From the ferocity in this voice and intensity of his eyes, you expected this kiss to be as the last one, hot and burning.  Instead, it was gentle, almost, dare you say loving as his stupid long fingers brushed against your cheek and his body settled over yours, tongues exploring.

“You’ve been really closed off since, well,” Bucky paused, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Since Steve left. And I know you don’t like talking about that, I just wanted you to know that I noticed. That Sam and I noticed.”

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, “We aren’t talking about him.”

“I know, and I mentioned that I know that,” Bucky’s brow was arched quizzically. 

“No,” you laughed, “I mean Sam.” 

Bucky relaxed back into the bed and rolled his eyes, turning back to you, giving you space to talk about Steve if you wanted.

“You,” you started, poking at Bucky’s ridiculously toned chest, “You didn’t see Steve and I before he left. He was like, well, the brother I always wished I had and I thought it had been the same for him. He was open with me about his past, about Peggy, about you, but he seemed, I dunno, “ you shrugged,”like he knew it was all in the past. I mean, with Peggy at least.”

Bucky nodded and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“I just wish he had told me,” you admitted. “I don’t think I would have been- well, no I still am, incredibly angry with him, I don’t think I would have been had he even discussed the possibility with me, even if he hadn’t come to any conclusion until he was on the platform. I would have been okay.” You felt a tear betray you and slip down your cheek, but at this point, you were well past caring. “I just-” you hiccupped, “I just wish he’d have talked to me.”

Bucky pulled you into his bare chest and wrapped his arms around you. It was in that perfect balance of warmth and weight that you finally cried, six months later.

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying the Planet to Save It    Chapter 2:  Another Damn Emergency

                                Chapter 1         Read it on AO3

“A what now?”  Bucky cried.

Everyone in the back of the panel truck, including three Avengers, four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, seven Secret Service agents, two Presidents of the United States and a First Lady, started shouting.  Tornadoes were rare enough in Washington D.C., and if Clint Barton’s eyes were to be believed, this one was a monster.  As a result, Steve found himself amid a large group of people simultaneously and collectively losing their shit in an enclosed space.  The cacophony went on for several minutes before the assault on his supersoldier hearing finally overcame his innate politeness and respect for authority.  Bigtime.

“SHUT UP!”  

Steve’s enhanced strength and lung capacity ensured that the ears of everyone else in the truck now hurt as much as his did. ��It didn’t even occur to him to be sorry.  In the stunned silence that followed, each person heard whatever Natasha whispered in Russian over the comms.  

“What is it, Natasha?”  Steve asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Uh, I see it, Rogers.  The tornado. It’s…  Huh.  Not sure I want to be here right now.”

Former President Lattimore whimpered.  

Current President Everett Burke scoffed at him, his voice quiet but clearly heard by all.  “Oh, for the love of…  Pull yourself together, Adam.  At least pretend you got a sack on you.”

Lattimore, an ostentatiously church-going Christian, gasped.  Everyone else in the truck tried to look somewhere else.

“Natasha,” Steve said.  “The tornado, is it between us and the jet?”

“No, and it’s not heading that way.  No reason to deviate from the plan.”

“Then don’t.”

“Listen,” President Burke said to Steve, “There’s going to be a lot of damage. I need to get somewhere where I can do my job.”

“Sir, right now the best thing you can do is make sure you remain able to do your job.  And that means letting me get you to safety.”  Bucky hid a smile at the heavy dose of Captain America Steve pumped into his voice. “You can do anything you need to from where we’re going.”

“Which is where?”

“I’ll tell you once we’re in the air.”

Tony spoke up.  “Sir, I can assure you, you’ll have everything you need.”

“I am the President of the United States!  I can’t just haul ass when the Capital’s in trouble!”

“With all due respect, Sir, that’s exactly what the President should do in this situation.”  This was Craig Thomas, the senior Secret Service agent in charge of security at the event they’d just fled.  “I have to agree with Captain Rogers.  Only difference between what we’re doing now and what we’d be doing otherwise is, the decoys will be on Air Force One.”

“And us?  Where will we be?”

“I admit yours is bigger, Sir,” Tony smirked, “But I do know how to kit out a plane.”

President Burke grinned, giving in to the wisdom of the plan.  “I’ll just bet you do, Stark.  What kind of scotch you got on board?”

“You won’t be disappointed.  I promise.”

*****

Sam looked around at what he could only describe as a bunker.  The limousine they’d arrived in had pulled into what appeared to be an industrial park, but as soon as they passed the roll-up door from the outside, all resemblance to a normal building ended.  The driver crossed the garage-like first room to enter a steeply-angled tunnel that took them what Sam estimated was at least two stories underground.  He wondered how far away from the actual entrance the tunnel took them.  It was impossible to know, but he guessed they had to have driven at least two blocks from the building they’d entered.  

“The fuck?”  He whispered to himself.  

There were a number of vehicles in the cavernous space that opened up at the end of the tunnel.  Sam saw another limo, two mid-range sports cars, at least five utility trucks of various types, and probably a dozen ordinary sedans.  

“What, exactly, is this place?”  Sam asked.

Jarman Arias swished a hand dismissively through the air. “Washington is a dangerous city. I like to have a place of safety. Just in case.”

Sam and Agent Herrera were all eyes as they were guided from the limousine to a door nearby, and Sam had time to wonder how wise it was to follow when he saw that the door was made of metal and wouldn���t have been out of place on a bank vault except for its industrial ugliness.  The door was set into the thick concrete of the walls.  Sam noticed other doors and a few concrete hallways leading off of the massive garage space.  He had no idea what to think, and Herrera didn’t appear any less confounded. He swallowed his misgivings and stepped through the door into what, surprisingly, appeared to be a fairly ordinary conference room.  Luxurious, but not quite so evil-villian’s-lair as the space they’d just left.

Once the group had shuffled in and Arias had taken a place at the large, mahogany table that dominated the room, he offered Sam a cigar.  Sam wanted to refuse.  He meant to.  Had he chosen to, he could have rattled off half a dozen reasons why he should, without even having to engage his brain.  But Sam knew a little about cigars, and when he saw what was in the small humidor Arias was holding, he found himself absolutely incapable of declining.  Fuck it.  The dude was either a crazed megalomaniac who could manufacture a tornado, or he wasn’t.  Whether Sam accepted a once-in-a-lifetime cigar wasn’t going to change that.  He saw Anita Herrera’s raised eyebrow and shrugged.  “I’m sure he’ll give you one, if you want.”

She smiled at him again, and Sam thought he might be a little in love already.

The room had five doors, including the one through which they’d entered.  A couple were open, and another was ajar.  Again, they were all metal, and all fitted into the concrete walls in a way that let Sam know how thick those walls were.  He was interested in the fact that this place was underground, just where you were supposed to go in a tornado.  Had Arias known there would be one?  From what Barton had said, the tornado was massive. Sam wondered how well the huge hotel they’d left would have withstood something like that.  He scowled, deep in thought, as one of Arias’s lackeys lit Sam’s cigar for him.  Shit, he thought as he inhaled a mouthful of delicious smoke.  Arias may have been a complete choad, but damn, that was a nice stogie.  He looked around and indicated the room with a sweep of his arm.

“So you’re seriously tellin’ me this fucking doomsday silo is just you tryna keep from gettin’ mugged?  I don’t think so.”

“Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe I have to answer to you,” Arias said smoothly, putting his cigar back in his mouth.

“I ain’t say you do.  I’m just… interested.”

Arias smirked around his cigar, but said nothing.  

“You got cable or somethin’ down here?”  Sam asked, seeing he wasn’t to get anywhere with straight-up questions. “I’d like to see what’s going on outside.”

The worst of the destruction was north of the city, around Bethesda and Chevy Chase, although as tornadoes do, this one had skipped across the landscape, done some heavy damage in Rock Creek Park and even touched down as far south as Adams Morgan.  So far, there were only three deaths reported, but it was early.  The tornado itself had been accompanied by serious winds which had damaged a lot of buildings, including the National Cathedral and a number of historical sites.

*****

Stark’s Gulfstream G450 was at capacity, even though Pepper Potts and three of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had stayed behind in Washington to deal with the threat.  They’d put out the word that there had been a bomb scare, because that was the most plausible and the least surprising story.  Tell people what they expect to hear, and they won’t ask questions.  But Steve, Tony, and Bucky knew that nobody had any idea what had happened in D.C.  Not really.  Bruce Banner was still hard at work trying to make sense of the data.  He would meet them in New York with Clint and Natasha as soon as they could get there.  

In the meantime, President Burke was already talking on several phone lines at once, even as he sipped Tony Stark’s fine scotch.  He was aboard with only eight Secret Service agents and the First Lady, which meant a fucking horde of functionaries were pissing their pants right now.  The President simply did not get to leave Washington without months of planning and a 747 full of people with him.

“It’s the damn twenty-first century, Clive,” the President was saying.  “You don’t need to see my face for us to get work done.  But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll text you a fucking selfie when we get off the phone here.  Spine up, would you?”

Tony, sitting across from him at the small galley table, smiled and nodded, amused.

At the front of the cabin, Former President Lattimore and Agent Emerson sat in seats facing one another, with two of Lattimore’s usual Secret Service detail in seats across a little aisle from them.  A healthy slug of very expensive gin had helped Lattimore calm himself, although the real reason he wasn’t as put out as he had been initially was the realization that he had been whisked away with the current President.  Although Joss Emerson seriously doubted that was anything more than circumstance, she’d been the one to point that out, and encourage Lattimore to think that was due to his own continued importance, because it kept him pacified.  She’d learned very well how to keep President Lattimore happy over the four long years of his administration.  She’d voted for Burke more to make her work life better than for any political reason, and she had to stifle a groan at finding herself here, again, babysitting Lattimore.  Thank God Mrs. Lattimore was basically a cipher.  Her husband was enough work.

Joss’s mind was whirling.  Of course, she’d known that S.H.I.E.L.D. was worried about something, and that whatever it was, it was serious enough, and strange enough, to warrant the unheard-of move to actually use the Avengers for security at tonight’s event.  She had been well-briefed on the bizarre plan to evacuate if that threat emerged, and clearly instructed not to ask questions. Joss had been Air Force; she knew how to keep her head down and her mouth shut.  But they couldn’t keep her from seeing, or thinking.

So Joss knew some things.  She knew that this was no bomb threat.  You didn’t need the Avengers to deal with something like that.  She also knew that, like President Lattimore, she was only here on this plane through coincidence.  Joss knew enough about the Avengers to know that, ever since they’d been back from Wakanda, Steve Rogers never went far without Bucky Barnes.  If Captain America was tasked with protecting the President, he wasn’t going to do it without his Sergeant.  Which meant that, when the threat they feared had emerged, Barnes had instructions to just bundle Lattimore and his entourage up and bring them along so he’d be on hand to help Rogers with the real mission.

She shivered a little.  Although she would die rather than let him know it, Joss had always kind of had a thing for Bucky Barnes, ever since Captain America had defied the whole world to rescue his lifelong friend from Hydra.  Sure, Steve Rogers was a gorgeous hunk of heroic muscle, the personification of bravery and patriotism and all that crap.  She wouldn’t kick him out of bed.  But Bucky Barnes?  That man was an absolute filthy-hot badass.  Joss’s kryptonite.  She’d spent more time on YouTube than was perhaps entirely normal, watching video of him making impossible shots and fighting with that stupid-sexy metal arm of his, pulling knives out of God knows where and flipping them around too fast for her to follow with her eyes, let alone try to emulate.  Joss found the whole package so ridiculously erotic that she was, at this moment, squirming in her seat.  And it wasn’t only because of the damn wildly uncomfortable thong she’d worn because she’d known she was going to meet him tonight and fuck if she was going to do it wearing granny panties.  

She didn’t fool herself that The Avengers would let her help save the world, whatever the threat was this time.  But she was here with them in an enclosed space, and this was her one chance to be close to them, so she decided to find out what, if anything, they’d tell her. And maybe, just maybe, get a chance to see if Bucky Barnes really smelled as good as she’d always imagined he would.

Making her way back through the jet, Joss saw him standing with Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter in the little galley at the rear of the jet’s cabin.  Both Steve and Bucky had shed their tuxedo jackets and their bow ties hung down their chests from unbuttoned collars.  As she approached, she saw Bucky look up and notice her, and felt a dirty roll low in her body, accompanied by a shocking jolt of nerves as he grinned at her.  

 As soon as Bucky moved a little forward to talk quietly with the Secret Service agent he’d been partnered with, Steve moved a little closer to Sharon.  

“You all right?”  He asked quietly.

“Of course,” she smiled.  “Plan worked flawlessly.  The President’s safe, and we even got a bonus President.  What’s not to like?”

Steve frowned a little.  “A lot. It’s getting a little hard to imagine that the energy signature we’re seeing, whatever it is, isn’t causing these phenomena.”

“You’re saying you’re afraid somebody’s figured out how to cause natural disasters.”

“I’m trying not to say that.  But after this...”

“Well, if it’s true, then Captain America will stop them.  Like always.”  Sharon smiled up at Steve, and he felt the thrill he always did when she looked at him.  He was getting very fond of the seemingly unshakable confidence she always showed in him. At the same time, Steve wished he shared that confidence.  Or that the responsibility to stop somebody with the power to cause earthquakes and tornadoes rested on somebody else’s shoulders.  That kind of power was terrifying.  Steve sometimes wished he could afford to be terrified.

“What’s that look for?”  She asked.

“Ask me again when we get to New York.  Or maybe when this is over.”

Sharon’s eyes clouded a little.  “I will. You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know.  Just… not now.”

“OK. Can I kiss you, though?  You look like a man who needs a kiss.”

“I am most definitely a man in need of a kiss.”  His half-shy smile gave Sharon delicious chills down her spine.

She stepped into Steve’s arms, noticing as always how warm he was with that supersoldier metabolism, and reveling in the feeling of his rock-hard body against hers.  Sharon was sometimes overwhelmed by how absolutely, spectacularly beautiful he was. But it was so much more than that.

Sharon knew what the look on Steve’s face had been about.  It was about the crushing weight of responsibility Steve carried with him every moment of every day.  Steve did everything he could to keep anyone from seeing how exhausting that was.  But Sharon could see it.  It was why she had come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.  Sure, she’d responded to Director Coulson’s request, and understood his need for Agents around him he could trust implicitly.  But she hadn’t come back for Director Coulson.  She’d come back because she was in love with Steve Rogers, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was where she could be of the most help to him. She’d come back because, with the seemingly unhealable rift between the Avengers, Steve had needed all the friends he could get, and Sharon Carter was damn well going to be there for him.

She made no secret of her attraction to him.  Hell, she was kissing him at this very moment.  But Steve kept a wall around him that might as well have been made of vibranium.  Theirs was the most casual possible dating relationship.  Sharon had become Steve’s go-to when he needed a plus one for some event or other, but that was basically it.  They had never even been on a real date.  They’d certainly never slept together.  They had meals together when they were both working in the same place. They talked, sometimes even about actual feelings and experiences and shit.  But it was all so superficial.  

She hated it, and not only because it was damn cold in the fucking friend zone. Sharon ached for how lonely and encumbered with his sense of obligation Steve Rogers was, knowing that he thought no one could see.  That maybe he would be angry that she could see.  She craved the chance to just hold him, run her hands through his hair and tell him it was OK to lay it all down for a while.  To kiss him and caress him and make him forget, at least for a little while.

Sure, Steve had Bucky, and they were closer than brothers.  But right now, Bucky was just beginning to integrate into the team, and even though his mind was clean again, his wounds weren’t something that were going to heal anytime soon.  Steve would never burden Bucky with his own pain at a time like that. No, Steve would be there for him, lending him his own strength and doing whatever he could to help Bucky recover and build a life for himself, without any regard to what Steve needed.  

Sharon wasn’t sure whether he would ever let her in, but she knew that whatever he needed from her, she would give.  Steve was an icon of strength and bravery to the world, but to Sharon, he was a bruised, overtaxed man, trapped and tormented in a prison of his own making, feeling responsible for the safety of the whole world, and everyone in it.  It frightened her, how much she loved him.  She would give anything to be able to ease his pain, if only a little.

As she held back all the feelings she was so afraid to share with him, settling for a tender caress of his lower lip with hers, Sharon tried to will some of her confidence into Steve.  She tried to pour some of her strength into him through the hands she splayed on his back under his jacket, sliding them across his bunched muscles with a little thrill.  OK, maybe a larger-than-average thrill.  Not that Steve needed strength, exactly.  What he needed was the will to keep taking the fate of the world onto himself, crisis after crisis, day after day.  Like today. Another damn emergency, Sharon thought.  When he was already exhausted.  When would he get a break?

 “You get him settled?”  Bucky asked Agent Emerson as he slid lazily onto the credenza just outside the galley where Steve and Sharon were having a moment.  Joss sat next to him, willing herself not to lean in and press her nose to his neck.  Because damn it, he did smell as good as she’d always imagined.  Shit.

“He’s fine.  Got a drink into him, started him telling Agent Thomas stories of his glory days.”

Bucky grinned.  “You’re good with him, Agent Emerson.”

“Joss.  Please.”

“Joss.”  Ok, now she was wet.  Bucky Barnes had said her name, just said her name, and that was all it took before her idiotic, miserable thong was soaked and she was ready to lay him out on the floor in front of the President of the United States.  Two, in fact.

“So. What can you tell me?”  She asked, taking a breath she hoped would stop the hormones flooding into her system.

“Not much.  We don’t know much.  Just enough to be concerned about the President at that event.  What we were afraid of happened, so here we are.”

“And what was that?  What were you afraid of?”

Bucky hesitated over his next words.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t say.” He watched Joss Emerson absorb that. She didn’t look any happier about it than he’d be in her place.  

“Right.”  She nodded stiffly.  “Just… I know whatever the threat is, it’s not a bomb.  And I know that I’m no Avenger.  I’m not even S.H.I.E.L.D.  But I am Secret Service, which means I’m trained and I know how to keep my mouth shut.  It also means I’m sworn to protect him.”  She indicated the President over her shoulder.  “Just don’t forget I’m here.  We, I mean.  We’re here.”  She blushed and indicated the other Secret Service agents on the plane with an embarrassed flick of her hand.  

“Don’t worry.  You’ll get him back to yourselves quick enough.”  Bucky grinned.  He could relate to her wanting to get these interlopers out of the way of her job. He’d have felt the same way.  

“It’s more than that.  I’m offering to help.  With… whatever this is.”

“Well, I hope we won’t need it.  But if we do, I know where to find you.  And your two guns and five knives.”  

“Three and seven, actually,” she said with a smirk that Bucky could feel in his chest.  “I picked up a few on the way out of the ballroom.”

“Huh. I saw the MP5.  What else?”

She looked at him for a second, then apparently decided he was serious and poked two fingers down into the thick French twist at the back of her head.  And pulled a Gerber 06 from inside it.

Bucky broke into an intrigued smile as she handed it to him but, rather than look down at the folding knife, he watched her smooth out her dark hair again. He realized he really liked it.  The way she was wearing it right now was all business, but he could tell there was a lot of it and he kind of wanted to pull out whatever was holding it and let it fall around her shoulders.  In fact, now that he really looked at her, Bucky was suddenly struck by the fact that Agent Joss Emerson was actually a bombshell.  And the way her brown eyes sparkled as she pulled a tac knife from her hair – a Gerber 06 switchblade, no less – suggested that she had a wild streak.   Interesting.

But it was when she pulled a Benchmade Infidel from one of the cutouts at her waist that Bucky started to think this was a girl he’d like to get to know. He whistled low and took it from her, flicking the long, thin blade out the front.  “Sweet,” he breathed.

“Yeah.  It’s my favorite, actually.”

“The President know you have one of these?  They’re illegal in some states.”

“You kidding?  I’m sitting like this so he won’t see it.  If he does, he’s gonna want to play with it some more.”

“I guess he was a SEAL.  Probably isn’t afraid of a little steel.”

“Just the opposite.  The press gives him a hard time about his guns, calls him ammosexual.  Uh-uh.  Man’s all about knives.”

“Speaking of SEALs, I just got this,” Bucky said, pulling his new SOG Seal Strike from a sheath at the small of his back.

Joss’s eyes went wide.  “Oh, that is nice…”  She took it from him and he watched her test the weight and balance.  Just the way she handled it showed Bucky that this was a woman who knew knives.

“Wanna see the best one?”

“Yeah,” she gushed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Joss could feel a point pressing against her ribs. She looked down to see that Bucky was holding an evil-looking, matte black push dagger against her.  She wasn’t sure whether it was the fact that she hadn’t even seen him move, or the wicked grin on his face that made her heart stutter.  Either way, she was pretty sure somewhere a cardiologist was feeling a disturbance in the Force.  

“You think my switch is illegal?  I’m pretty sure I’m not even supposed to be looking at that.”

Bucky liked her reaction.  A lot. For the next ten minutes, they admired the small knife, meant to be held in a fist and punched into the body. Bucky had designed this one, and had a lot to say about it.  

Aft of them, in the galley, Sharon bumped a hip against Steve and pointed at the weapons show and tell happening a few feet away.  Turning, Steve took in the scene and raised an eyebrow, then laughed quietly.  He was shaking his head when he turned back to Sharon, but his fond grin and the warm note in his voice belied his attempt to appear to disapprove.  “Believe it or not, that’s flirtation for Bucky.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve chuckled.  “Buck’s got a very particular type.”

The way Bucky’s grey-blue eyes looked at her over his wide, easy smile made Joss wonder whether they’d lost cabin pressure.  She actually thought she might lose consciousness, the way her head was spinning.  She realized suddenly that this might have been a mistake.  Maybe she shouldn’t be sitting here, her leg actually touching Bucky Barnes’s knee, their hands touching repeatedly as they examined the custom push dagger.  It was one thing to do a little bit of – OK, a not unobsessive amount of – fangirling over a good-looking famous dude.  But this was The Job.  She started to question the wisdom of offering her services in this situation, because she couldn’t be sure she would be able to concentrate the way she needed to with Bucky Barnes around.  

When he saw her face change, Bucky figured the reason was fairly obvious.

“Listen,” he said, sliding the knife back into wherever he’d pulled it from. “I understand you wantin’ to be in the loop.  Believe me. Nobody’s tryin’ to cut you out of anything; we got nothing but respect for you guys.  It’s just…  shit tends to get weird around us.  Well, that’s not exactly right.  We go where shit’s already weird.  Anyway, the point is, you don’t want any of this.”

Joss nodded.  “I don’t want anybody to fuck with my President, either, but if they do, I’ll be there.  That’s all I’m saying.  I’m here.”

“With an O6 in your hair,” he grinned.  “Got it.  If there’s a role for you, I won’t hesitate.  Promise.”  Huh, Bucky thought, realizing he actually meant that.  

*****

Sam Wilson could be a charming guy.  An entertaining guy.  A guy who could catch the attention of a roomful of thugs and keep it, if the need arose.

The need arose.

He could see Agent Herrera looking around whatever this place was, and it was obvious from the way her eyes took in everything that she knew what she was doing. Twice now, one of Arias’s goons had noticed her basically casing the joint and rudely barked at her to sit back down at the table.  

She never did.  She’d stand there for a while, but Sam watched her in his peripheral vision and recognized her gradual, inevitable drift away again, always toward one of the doors.  He decided to help her, launching into a long, somewhat fact-based series of stories about his early days testing the EXO-7 for the Air Force.  The more Sam crashed, the more they laughed.  Even Arias was diverted for a while.  It wasn’t until he saw Herrera glide silently back into the room from one of the open doors that Sam finally stopped spinning tales.  Her timing was good; he was running out of lies.  But the look Herrera gave him told Sam that she’d found what she’d been looking for.

Two hours after arriving at Arias’s bunker, or whatever it was, Sam and Agent Herrera were chauffeured back to the hotel where the Presidential event was to have taken place.  They sat next to one another on the back seat, saying little, and nothing important. Sam had no doubt that whatever they said would be recorded, or at least reported back to Arias.  He also had no doubt that Herrera had seen something. She was almost bursting out of her skin, vibrating with excitement even as she schooled her expression to seem bland.

The hotel was unscathed by the night’s events, other than the unholy mess left behind by the herd of overgroomed assholes trying to push their way out when the evacuation began.  Sam led Agent Herrera past the doors to the ballroom and down an out-of-the-way hall to a small conference room where a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they both knew stood guard.  They all nodded to each other, and the guard stepped aside to allow Sam to guide Agent Herrera in with a hand on the small of her back.

Sam didn’t even wait long enough to acknowledge anyone in the room.  The second the door closed, he had a hand around Herrera’s upper arm and pulled her around to face him.

“What?”  He asked, standing too close to her in his eagerness to hear what she had to say. She didn’t seem to notice, because she was just as eager to tell him what she’d seen.  She was actually panting a little, her deep brown eyes shining with excitement.  Sam’s body noticed.  He was a professional, sure, but he was still a man, and…  Holy shit.

“That place,” Herrera began.  “Arias’s lair, or whatever you want to call it.  It’s got an insane amount of power running to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you notice all the pipes and tubes running along the ceiling in that underground garage?  Some of them were for water, steam, whatever, but a lot of them – most of them, were conduits for electrical wires.  There were way too many of them, and some of them had to have high-voltage electrical wiring in them.  And those doors from that… conference room or whatever.  Two of them led to corridors, just basically concrete hallways with more pipes and conduits running along them.  It’s underground, and it’s concrete, right?  So there’s no way to hide them, and why would you in a place like that?  So I got a good look at them, and I’m telling you, that place has more power running into it than most skyscrapers.  There’s something big and power-hungry down there to need that much electricity feeding it.”

As she was speaking, Natasha and Bruce had come over to listen.  They both had questions that began general and very quickly got technical enough that they left Sam in their dust.  He looked over at Clint, who was squatting on a table watching something on a monitor.  Strolling closer, Sam saw that it was video of the tornado.  He gasped.

“Mother of-  Is that the one here?”

“Yeah, but don’t get too excited.  As tornadoes go, it’s kind of a piece of shit.  Only an EF-2, and it wasn’t on the ground for more than ten minutes.”

“Well, you sure sounded excited when you saw it,” Sam noted.

“I know, and it’s kinda buggin’ me.  It looked big.  I mean, it was dark and all, but with the city lights illuminating the clouds, I could still see it pretty good, and it seemed…  I don’t know. Something’s off about it. Something about the whole storm just doesn’t look right.  Bruce has some fancy-ass meteorologist working on it.  She’s meeting us in New York.”

Sam watched the video, thinking that if this tornado didn’t impress Clint, he definitely wouldn’t want to see one that did.  It looked wicked.  

“Hey,” Clint said quietly, nudging Sam with his elbow and sliding his eyes over toward the group who were excitedly discussing the power lines Agent Herrera had seen in the underground facility Arias had called “Site B.”

“What’s she like?”  Clint asked in an amused undertone, indicating Agent Herrera.

“She’s a professional woman doin’ a job, is what she’s like, you sexist shithead.”

“Uh-huh,” Clint grinned.  “You got nowhere with her.”

“I wasn’t tryna…  Man, shut the hell up,” Sam screeched, trying to stay quiet.  He gave Clint the dirtiest look he could manage, then stalked back over to the group to rejoin the discussion of what Herrera had seen.

Clint just laughed.  

*****

The flight from Washington D.C. to New York was just over an hour long, but the general atmosphere among those who piled into the obscenely luxurious vehicle for the drive from the private airfield to Stark Tower was one of exhaustion. Joss wasn’t sure what to call this thing; the closest thing she could come up with was “Limo Bus”.   Everyone from the plane sat on the plush, curvy seats that lined both sides of the vehicle, while Tony Stark offered them a variety of drinks from the semicircular bar – an actual damn bar - that curved out between two of the long seats on one side.  Everything that wasn’t black was red and gold, including the neon light that poured out from under the seats and across the ceiling.

Joss must have shaken her head, or made a face, because Tony stopped his manic bartending and pointed at her accusingly.  

“You don’t like my bus,” he snapped, keeping his finger in the air, directed at her, as he scowled.

“I’m expecting strippers any moment,” she blurted before she could think better of it.

President Lattimore, on her left, sucked in his breath in disapproval. “Joss, for heaven’s sake.  The man is our host.”

Joss, appalled and mortified, began to sputter.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.  I didn’t mean to…  I just…  It’s… a lot.”

“I’m a lot, Miss Secret Service.  And just for that, no cocktail for you.”  

With that, he turned his head and began taking drink orders from those on the other side of the bar, dismissing her entirely.

Joss suddenly liked the red neon light very much, because it hid the deep blush she knew was the reason her entire face was burning.  It didn’t help that she could hear Bucky Barnes snickering on the other side of President Lattimore.

The former President held his drink out to her, leaning in too close.  “I’d be happy to share mine with you.”

“Thank you, Sir, but I’m on duty anyway.”  

Joss didn’t say another word for the rest of the way to Stark Tower.

[mischiefandspirits]

Iron Legion (18/?)

Never let it be said that Tony Stark ever does things by half. He might have grown up with little family, but he wasn’t about to keep it that way.

Tony Stark was seventeen when his first child was born, and that was just the beginning.

For Masterpost, Timeline, AO3, and Fanfiction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arachne Mark II, Part 1

Tony Stark was forty when Spider-Man was born.

“Hey Petey, how was your first week of school?” Tony asked as Peter came into the living room.

“Great!” he chirped, dropping his backpack before flopping onto the couch next to Tony.

“That’s wonderful,” Pepper said, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead before heading towards the elevator. “I’ll be back for dinner and then we can hear all about it.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Tony waited until he heard the elevator doors close before giving his son a look. “So, how’d it actually go?”

Peter gave him a confused look.

“Don’t give me that. You know you can’t lie to me.”

Peter groaned and set his head in Tony’s lap. “It was fine.”

“But?”

“It’s nothing, just… Everyone seems to already know each other, either from middle school or because their parents all know each other. And I’m just some weird random homeschool kid who's there on a scholarship and changes in the bathroom stalls instead of the locker room.”

If only they knew, Tony thought as he ruffled his kid’s hair. “Just give it time for that winning personality of yours to kick in. You’ll have tons of friends soon enough.”

“You think so?” Peter asked, looking unconvinced.

“Sure, maybe try joining a club or… I don’t know. I’m not the making friends type. Still not sure why Rhodey’s stuck around this long. He and Pepper would be better at this. Just make sure to be yourself. If they don’t like the real you, then they’re not worth your time. Starks don’t change themselves for anyone.” He could hear Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper calling him a hypocrite in his head, but ignored it. Being a dad was all about do as I say, not as I do.

“Alright, Dad.” Peter sat up and hugged him. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Kiddo. Now, how about you go put your stuff away and then we test out that new drone I’m making for Wilson?”

Peter perked up. “The bird bot?”

“The bird bot.”

“Yes!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter was doodling ideas for improvements on the bird bot when someone tapped his shoulder.

He flipped his notebook closed quickly and looked up to see a pretty older girl standing over him.

“You’re Peter Parker, right?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

She smiled and held out her hand. “My name’s Elizabeth Toomes, but everyone calls me Liz. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Peter said, bemused, as he took her hand.

“Can I talk to you for a second? If you’re busy with your project, then we can do it later.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” he said, pushing his notebook aside. “I’m just messing around. I finished the project we’re supposed to be working on last week. My last school was a little ahead.” A lie, technically. The Tomorrow Academy hadn’t gone over what the project covered, but Dr. Banner had during one of their science sessions.

His teacher had seemed a little annoyed when he’d told her he’d finished ahead of schedule, as had some of his classmates, but Liz just seemed excited and dropped into the empty seat next to him. “I’m a member of the school’s academic decathlon team. Our captain asked me to invite a few promising freshmen to try out while he’s getting our practices ready and a couple of your teachers recommended you.”

Blushing, he ducked his head. “Th-thank you, but I don’t know anything about academic decathlons.”

She shrugged. “That’s okay, we can teach you how it works as long as you’re smart enough to compete.”

Peter wasn’t sure about the competition part, but his dad and Uncle Rhodey had both suggested he join a school club or team to try to make friends so he nodded. “Uh, sure then. How do I try out?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, Ned, I’ll ask Nebs as soon as she gets home,” Peter was saying as he came into the workshop. “Yeah, that sounds great… Uh-huh… Okay, bye!” Peter dropped into a chair and rolled up next to Tony. “Hey, Dad! Guess what happened at school today!”

Tony adjusted the power levels and reran the simulation for the engine he was working on.

“Dad?”

“Jay, save these results.”

“Right away.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Did you hear something, Jay?”

“I believe it was Master Peter.”

“Who?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter pout. “Nebs told you.”

Tony continued to ignore him.

“She promised she wouldn’t say anything!”

“Say anything about what? You betraying the entire family?”

Peter rolled his eyes and nudged Tony’s arm. “It’s just a field trip.”

“To Oscorp,” Tony spat, putting as much disgust into the word as he could.

“The entire robotics lab is going. I’d look weird if I don’t go.”

“No, you’d look smart. Oscorp is garbage.”

“Compared to us, sure,” Peter agreed easily, leaning against Tony to see his work. “But they’re still one of the best companies in the world and it’s a big deal to the others that we’re able to tour some of their labs.”

“Osborn’s probably just trying to scrounge up some good PR to combat whatever scandal he’s apart of this time.”

“Yeah,” Peter hummed, reaching out to turn the diagram.

Tony shoved the hand away. “Uh-uh, traitors don’t get to help out in the lab.”

“Dad!”

“There you are,” Nebula said, walking in. “Why were you asking Uncle Happy when I was off?”

Peter spun his chair around to point at her. “You promised you wouldn’t tell him!”

Nebula gave him an unimpressed look. “What does it matter? It’s just some stupid field trip.”

“The triplets would never spew such blasphemy,” Tony muttered.

Nebula shook her head. “Is that all you wanted or can I -”

“Wait!” Peter called as she started to leave. “Ned wants to know if I can come over to his house tomorrow!”

“Ned?” Tony and Nebula asked together.

“He’s in AcaDec and robotics lab with me. He’s a freshman too and last practice we were talking about those old Star Wars movies. He invited me over to watch them.”

Old Star Wars movies, Tony mouthed as Nebula asked, “And why does this concern me?”

“His mom wants to talk to you to make sure it’s okay.”

Tony laughed as his daughter scowled. “You wanted to be responsible for him.”

“Please, Nebs!”

She groaned and turned to leave. “Just give her my number.”

“Thanks, Nebs! You’re the best older sister ever!” F.R.I.D.A.Y. made a sound and Peter said, “Older! You’re still the best sister altogether.”

“Thanks, Baby-Bro!”

“So you’re making friends, then?” Tony asked.

“Well, friend. It’s just Ned. At least, I think he’s my friend.”

Tony shrugged and ruffled his hair. “Barely two months and you’ve already got a maybe friend? Way better than me at your age. Knew you could do it. I’m proud of you.”

Peter beamed. “Even though I’m going on the field trip?”

Tony dropped his hand and turned away. “Jay, did you hear that? It almost sounded like someone was talking.”

Peter pressed his face into Tony’s shoulder with a whine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours into the tour and Peter was honestly just bored.

Nothing Oscorp was working on, or at least nothing they were willing to show his class, was cutting edge. His class was mostly just interested in the equipment the labs were using, but Peter had worked with better while helping his dad or Dr. Banner.

“Dad was right, I should have just bailed,” he sighed, hanging back while his classmates all crowded around the tanks of spiders Oscorp was using for a breeding experiment.

He shivered at just the idea of being that close to the arachnids, behind glass or not.

He glanced around the lab in search of something to focus on before his brain just started tuning everything out and his eyes landed on a display hidden off to the side next to a tank.

Giving the tank a wide berth, he walked over and read off the formula. It seemed to be part of the breeding experiment, but something was familiar about it.

“Please stay with your class.”

Peter jerked to the side, tripping and barely managing to catch himself on the workbench holding the tank. Blushing, he pulled himself upright and turned to see Dr. Connors, Oscorp’s lead genetic biologist. The man had been the one to give them their lecture when they’d reached the bio labs and was now staring down at Peter with a forced smile.

“S-sorry, I was just looking at this formula.”

“It’s beyond you, very advanced. Come back over with the others.”

Peter shook his head. He hated when adults looked down on him. His teachers did it, some of his classmates did it, the Avengers had done it whenever they visited Dr. Banner’s lab while he was there, even Dr. Banner had done it at first. His dad had never done it, though, and he didn’t stand for anyone doing it to Peter or his siblings.

Well, except the twins, sometimes. But only Dad was allowed to tease them, and they knew he was just joking.

“My… uncle taught me about formulas like these years ago.” He pointed at a portion of the formula as he realized what was familiar about it. “Why is Extremis incorporated here?”

Dr. Connors dropped the smile for an annoyed expression. “It isn’t.”

“But I recognize it. My uncle taught me about it.”

“Your uncle must have been mistaken.”

Peter scowled. Dr. Banner was above and beyond Dr. Connors’ level.

“Please return to your class. Now.”

Peter marched over to Ned’s side as the class began to leave for the next part of the tour.

Just as the doors closed behind him, he felt a pinch at the back of his neck. His hand slapped at it reflexively.

“You okay?” Ned asked.

“Yeah, just an itch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Peter!” Nebula called as she strapped her gun to her hip. “You’re going to be late if you don’t get out here.” She grabbed her badge and jacket, then turned to Peter’s door. “Peter?”

A bit of worry dug at her when she didn’t get a response. She hadn’t seen Peter the night before, but his backpack was on the coat rack so she had assumed he’d gone to bed early for some reason. What if…

Nebula threw open his door and sighed when she saw the fluffy brown hair poking out from under his Iron Man comforter (a gag gift from Uncle Rhodey, Peter had made her swear not to tell Father he actually used it). “Peter?”

He groaned and peaked out of the covers. “Nebs?”

She frowned at his raspy voice, bleary eyes, and flushed face. “You okay?” she asked, coming to his side.

“Tired.” He leaned into her cold skin when she set her hand on his forehead. “Everything’s bright and loud.”

She nodded as her sensors listed a temperature. “You’re running a low fever.”

He flinched and pulled his comforter back over his head.

Considering what he’d said, she quietly moved over to the window and shut the blinds and curtains. Then she went to the bathroom and grabbed some Tylenol and earplugs out of the first aid kit. She brought them into his room with a glass of water and offered them with a small, “Here.”

He peaked out again then took the Tylenol and water.

“I’ll call your school and let them know you’re staying home. Just rest. If I can’t make it back for lunch, I’ll send someone to check on you. Call me or Father if you start feeling nauseous or if anything else starts feeling off.”

He nodded and put the earplugs in before slipping back into his chrysalis.

She gave his side a pat and left for work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A car honked, a baby cried, someone knocked on a door, someone dropped a glass, another car honked.

So much. Too much.

Peter reached up to make sure the earplugs hadn’t fallen out while he was asleep, but they were still in. They really weren’t helping much, but he figured something was better than nothing.

He pulled his blanket down and squinted as the light hit his eyes. He wanted to tug it back up, but his stomach was killing him. Maybe Nebs would be back soon?

Sitting up a little, he reached out for his glasses so he could check the time. He paused when he spotted his glasses next to the alarm clock.

The alarm clock that he could easily read.

He looked around his room and was shocked to find he could see everything perfectly, once he pushed past how bright everything was. For so long he’d never been able to see more than a foot in front of his face, yet now everything was crystal clear. Better than, really. Even his glasses had never let him see everything with such detail.

He rubbed his eyes, but the only thing that did was help his eyes adjust to the light a little.

His stomach gave a loud gurgle and cramped, reminding him of his hunger.

Shoving aside his weird eye thing for now, he checked the time and pouted when it showed it was only half-past ten.

Hissing, he slipped out of bed. The ache throbbing through his body briefly grew in his legs as they took his weight and rippled through the rest of him. Once it dulled, he shuffled over to his desk and grabbed his sunglasses. They made everything blurry as his miraculously healed eyes tried to focus through them, but he knew the living area was going to be even brighter than his room.

Sure enough, it was blinding and he barely opened his eyes as he searched the kitchen. He ended up pulling out an orange and some leftover pasta from the fridge. He tossed the pasta into the microwave and moved to the sink to peel the orange.

However, as soon as he broke the skin, he was hit with a strong citrus smell that sent a shiver down his spine and he dropped the orange out of instinct. He stared at the fruit until the microwave timer went off. With another shiver, he carefully grabbed it by the unbroken portion and tossed it in the trash. He then washed his hands thoroughly until all he could smell on them was mixed berry hand soap.

It was only when he was back in his room, halfway through his leftovers and a party-sized bag of chips, that he realized something was up with his behavior. He stared down at his hand, lost. Why had he reacted like that? He’d never had a problem with oranges before, especially not to such an extreme. Maybe the fever was messing with his head.

Resigned to more bed rest, he finished off his food then cocooned himself back on the bed, leaving the container and bag on his desk since he didn’t want to face the bright light again. He dozed until he was woken up by Uncle Happy coming into the apartment.

“Kid, you still in bed?” he yelled, shutting the door and locking it.

“Yeah,” Peter groaned, clenching his fists around his comforter. “Not so loud, please. Why is everyone yelling today?”

“Kid?” Uncle Happy stomped down the hall and opened Peter’s door. “Peter?”

Peter shushed him.

Uncle Happy stomped up to his bed and sat down on the edge, reaching over to rub up and down his side. “How are you feeling, kid?” he asked. He wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still a little loud.

Why couldn’t anyone whisper?

“A little better,” Peter sighed. “Still hurts and tired.”

“I see you got up to eat.”

“Mm-hm. Really hungry.”

“Clearly. You ate enough to satisfy Cap. Feeling nauseous at all?”

“No.”

“That’s good. When was the last time you took any medicine?”

“Nebs gave me some Tylenol before she left.” He considered mentioning that it hadn’t seemed to help, but kept quiet, figuring he must have just fallen asleep before it kicked in and woken up after it wore off.

“Alright. I’m going to go grab the thermometer and some more Tylenol, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

He quickly did as he said and Peter swallowed the pills while Uncle Happy held the thermometer in his ear.

“Well, your fever’s gone down some. That’s good. Must just be a bug or something,” Uncle Happy said, rubbing his shoulder. “You need anything else?”

“‘M okay.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some more water before I leave. Give one of us a call if anything happens before Nebula gets home, alright?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, burrowing back into his cocoon. “Can you also grab me some jerky?”

“Still hungry?”

“A little.”

“An appetite’s good, right? Yeah, probably. That it?”

“Yes, please.”

Uncle Happy ruffled his hair. “Get some rest. I’ll leave your snacks on your bedside table.”

Peter groaned and ducked further into the chrysalis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the next morning, his fever was gone, but everything still seemed too loud and bright. The body pains were still there too, though they’d faded to a muted ache. And then there was his vision…

“Hey Peter, how are you feeling?” Nebs asked as he came into the -- thankfully darkened -- living area. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”

“I’m okay, just a bit of a headache. I -” His nose twisted up and he took a step back. “What are you drinking?”

“Peppermint tea. Vision recommended it. Want some? It’s supposed to be good for headaches.”

He took a few more steps back when she held her mug out to him. “Pass.”

She raised an eyebrow before shrugging it off. She came up to him and he forced himself to stay in place, shivering at the smell. She placed her hand on his forehead and said, “Are you feeling up for school today? You don’t have a fever anymore.”

He shook his head, thinking about crowded halls and loud bells.

“Alright. You might as well come with me to the tower then.”

He nodded. He didn’t want to have to go outside, but it would be worth it to see Dad and hide away in his soundproof room with the windows blacked out.

“Go get dressed then. Don’t forget your glasses.”

Peter quickly dressed, but paused when he picked up his glasses. He put them on and everything went blurry.

What is going on?

“You almost done?” Nebs called.

“Yeah.” He put his glasses away and dug out the sunglasses he kept for the rare occasions he decided to wear his contacts.

He picked up his jacket and nearly jumped out of his skin when a spider fell out of the hood. Not taking his eyes off the bug, he reached back to grab a petri dish and its lid off his desk. It was only after it was safely trapped inside -- and held as far from him as possible -- that he realized the spider was dead. Relieved, he looked closer at it, curious about the bright red, blue, and black coloring. He’d never seen a spider like it before.

“Peter?”

“Coming.” He set the dish down and shook his jacket out. Once he was sure there were no more hidden spiders, he tried to put it on, only to find his hand stuck to the fabric. He shook his hand and tried to pull it off with his other hand, both to no avail.

“Peter hurry up.”

He spun around as his door opened.

His jacket fluttered to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Just putting on my jacket,” he chuckled nervously.

“Right,” she said, looking unconvinced. “Well, let’s go. I need to get to work.

“Yep, sorry,” he sighed as Nebs left. He glanced at his jacket on the ground, then grabbed another out of his closet. He pocketed his phone and put on his sunglasses before pausing. He glanced at the spider, then his door, before slipping some rubber bands around the dish and pocketing it as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the record, since I've gotten a comment about this, Harley is not Reed Richards. That's on the right track though.

Just finished writing down the Infinity War part of this and I've got to say, I cried while writing it. Why does Infinity War have to exist?

Also, place your bets now on who bites the bullet!

An update on something I mentioned in the past: Riri, Miles, Gwen, and Kamala won't be appearing in this story, unfortunately. I just don't have enough information on Riri and the Inhumans to include her or Kamala and Peter's just too early in his superhero gig for Alchemax to be trying to recreate him so two spider-powered-people will have to do for now. There are two kid heroes that don't show up in canon that will be appearing though. One who was already planned and I might have mentioned already, can't remember, while the other will be taking Riri's spot... and all that implies

[torontoarenas]

rapid-fire takes on every NHL free agent signing > $1.5M

$1.5M is an arbitrary cut-off, but I figure that anything less than that can be buried in the minors without too much difficulty. in other words, if you’re signing a guy for less than $1.5M, you clearly don’t expect big things from them. also, these signings all took place on July 1, another arbitrary cut-off. here are my takes, in alphabetical order by surname:

Noel Acciari (3 years, $1.667M AAV with Florida)

not sure why they felt the need to give a three-year term to a depth forward (and not a particularly good one at that), but the low cost means that won’t be a huge problem

Sebastian Aho (5 years, $8.454M AAV with Montreal)

the Habs did an incredible job signing one of the sport’s premier young talents to a bargain of a contract. it’s a shame, then, that the contract in question was in the form of an offer sheet, which means it will be a farcically easy decision for Carolina to match it and retain Aho’s services. nonetheless, I’d like to sincerely thank Montreal for signing the first offer sheet since February 2013 and, in doing so, making this off-season slightly more interesting.

Pierre-Édouard Bellemare (2 years, $1.8M AAV with Colorado)

my initial reaction when I heard about this signing was: “why?” but his numbers since leaving Philadelphia have actually been pretty decent, so I don’t mind it for the Avs.

Jordie Benn (2 years, $2M AAV with Vancouver)

doesn’t really move the needle, but he’s probably better than whoever the hell else the Canucks would’ve played in his stead, so whatever.

Sergei Bobrovsky (7 years, $10M AAV with Florida)

as a rule, DO NOT GIVE GOALIES THIS MUCH TERM OR SALARY, IT IS NOT WORTH IT. especially if that goalie turns 31 before the start of the first season of seven. this contract will likely be an albatross well before the halfway point, if not immediately. it truly cannot be overstated how inadvisable this contract is.

Alex Chiasson (2 years, $2.15M AAV with Edmonton)

this is another contract to which a shrug, followed by the words “hey, sure, why not,” would be a fair response.

Brett Connolly (4 years, $3.25M AAV with Florida)

he’s a decent player, but the four-year term is a bit iffy. I’m not entirely sure what the Panthers think they’re doing, although maybe I’m mistaken in assuming that Dale Tallon thinks.

Joonas Donskoi (4 years, $3.9M AAV with Colorado)

I really like this deal, but the fact that this was arguably the best-value UFA signing today says a lot about (1) the calibre of the players who tend make it to unrestricted free agency in first place; (2) GMs’ absurd overvaluing of depth players; and (3) the general lack of excitement in off-season transactions. regardless, this was a shrewd move.

Matt Duchene (7 years, $8 AAV with Nashville)

to be sure, the Predators overpaid for him, but not by as much as I thought they would, so ... congrats? he doesn’t really drive play & the main reason he scored more in 2018-19 than his career average (62 points per 82 games) was an unsustainably high shooting percentage. he’ll be a productive player for most of the contract, but it’s still a bit rich for my blood.

Valtteri Filppula (2 years, $3M AAV with Detroit)

unsurprisingly, an old guy who has been bad for several years now continued to be quite bad last season, except for the fact that he scored a few more goals than he usually does. for some reason, Detroit deemed that to be a good enough reason to give him a two-year contract. however, the Red Wings aren’t likely to be competitive in the next two seasons anyway, so it probably doesn’t matter.

Ron Hainsey (1 year, $3.5M with Ottawa)

well, the Senators needed to overpay somebody to get to the salary cap floor, so it literally might as well be Ron Hainsey. he’s terrible at this point, but so are the Ottawa Senators, making his contract irrelevant. they could’ve given him $10M for all the difference it would make.

Ryan Hartman (2 years, $1.9M AAV with Minnesota)

[see: Alex Chiasson]

Garnet Hathaway (4 years, $1.5M AAV with Washington)

four years? for whom now???

Keith Kinkaid (1 year, $1.75M with Montreal)

he’s not a good goalie, but if he were, he’d probably be making more money. I dunno what to tell ya.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anders Lee (7 years, $7M AAV with NY Islanders)

ahh, a classic case of “overpaying to retain a guy in order to save face after striking out on better free agents.” the Islanders are now closer to the cap than they were last year, they haven’t improved at all, and they weren’t even that good to begin with. folks, you just love to see it.

Robin Lehner (1 year, $5M with Chicago)

the contract itself is fair value, but what’s puzzling is the team that signed it. I talked about this earlier, but why is it Chicago’s goal to make the playoffs next year? it’s not gonna turn back the clock. the 2013 versions of their core players are never coming back, so they’re just delaying their rebuild for no good reason.

Timo Meier (4 years, $6M AAV with San Jose)

a very team-friendly deal. what’s not to like?

Petr Mrazek (2 years, $3.125M AAV with Carolina)

I have no idea if Mrazek is going to be any good next year, but it’s worth a shot.

Ryan Murray (2 years, $4.6M AAV with Columbus)

I hadn’t actually heard about this signing until I started writing this post, and I’m too tired to do any research. I was under the impression that Ryan Murray isn’t very good, but I’m not going to say any more than that in case I’m wrong.

Tyler Myers (5 years, $6M AAV with Vancouver)

a truly horrendous contract. to put it simply, Myers is replacement-level. I shouldn’t need to tell you not to give thirty million dollars to replacement-level hockey players, but here we are.

Patrik Nemeth (2 years, $6M AAV with Detroit)

Detroit just decided to give two bad hockey players the exact same contract. nothing much to see here. moving on...

Gustav Nyquist (4 years, $5.5M AAV with Columbus)

this is actually a reasonable deal. good on the Blue Jackets for keeping the term shorter than it could’ve been and not overreacting to the departures of Bobrovsky, Duchene, and Panarin. that might sound like damning with faint praise (and that’s definitely what this is!), but that’s better than having to damn them with, uh, damnation? haven’t really thought of a suitable metaphor here. again, I’m tired.

Artemi Panarin (7 years, $11.642M AAV with NY Rangers)

I’m not sure the Rangers’ future competitive window aligns with his own window as an elite winger, but it’s hard for a team to pass on the opportunity to add someone as good as Panarin & it’s hard for a person to pass on the opportunity to become the second-highest-paid player in the National Hockey League. tough to blame the Rangers for signing this deal, even if it won’t look great in the final few years.

Richard Panik (4 years, $2.75M AAV with Washington)

stop me if you’ve heard this before: the price is right for a solid middle-six forward, but the term is questionable.

Joe Pavelski (3 years, $7M AAV with Dallas)

he’s still really good even at (almost) 35 years old, so the first year likely won’t be an issue, but signing anyone that old for that length of time is a big risk. if I had to guess, the Stars will probably end up trading him or buying him out after year two, but that’s a problem for later.

Corey Perry (1 year, $1.5M with Dallas)

I think he’s probably washed, but this signing’s still a decent bet

Andrej Sekera (1 year, $1.5M with Dallas)

not seeing the upside is here, but luckily, the downside isn’t intolerable

Wayne Simmonds (1 year, $5M with New Jersey)

if almost any other team had signed him to that deal, I’d have said it was mistake, but New Jersey has so much cap space to work with that it literally doesn’t matter. mostly, though, I kinda resent having to sit through the same “is Wayne Simmonds still good?” debate on TSN that happened just a few months ago at the trade deadline. (the correct answer is “no, he isn’t,” by the way.)

Mike Smith (1 year, $2M with Edmonton)

why are you doing this to poor Connor McDavid? what did he do to deserve it?

Anton Stralman (3 years, $5.5M AAV with Florida)

this would’ve been a great deal to give Anton Stralman five years ago, but now? woof.

Cam Talbot (1 year, $2.75M with Calgary)

maybe he’ll be alright this year. I have my doubts, but for one year? sure.

Brandon Tanev (6 years, $3.5M AAV with Pittsburgh)

not necessarily the worst signing of the day (though it’s definitely up there!), but it is the most purely confounding. whereas, with Bobrovsky and Myers, I can at least understand the thought process that went on (Florida needed a goalie; Vancouver likes that Myers is 6′8″ and won the Calder Trophy a decade ago), I cannot fathom why Pittsburgh did this. six years?! for an only-OK fourth liner who’s never had a significant amount of hype? who the hell did they think they were bidding against?

Semyon Varlamov (4 years, $5M AAV with NY Islanders)

look, any time you can throw a four-year deal at 31-year-old goalie who’s had a GSAA meaningfully above zero just once in the past four seasons, you’ve gotta do it

Colin Wilson (1 year, $2.6M with Colorado)

well, that checks out. seems fine to me.

Mats Zuccarello (5 years, $6M AAV with Minnesota)

reasonable salary, bad term. or at least, it would be bad if Minnesota weren’t going to be a completely irrelevant team over the lifetime of the deal. so, really, what’s the point?