#I was gonna draw something way more patriotic and fun

[ewicomkicks2point0]

YEEEAAAAHHHHHHH SCOTTTTTTLLLAAAAAAAAANDDDDD

Logve the way you dRAW DEMOMAGN AND HIS BOMB MOTHER. awrsome

Sorry for the late reply,, thank you so much !!! I’m glad that people are feeling any amount of joy from my drawings but I really had to force this one out. I’ve given up on posting my stupid drawings at the moment, it just feels so wrong. Still, many thanks to you all.

[artbyblastweave]

I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

[majjiktricks]

plss gimme the fucked up ocelot/liquid dynamics

i dont know if this is gonna make any sense because i just wrote it in a haze but

i definitely think ocelot is weird about all of the bibo clones. he has way too much fun torturing snavid, and he works closely with solidus during mgs1-2. those two look the most like bibo, so ofc he has a strange attraction to them.

for liquid i think its a little more complicated because a) he met liquid as a child. but he didn't watch him grow up, and i dont think he felt any kind of familial bond with him. he was an annoying little shithead for a few months and then he fucked off into the wilderness to live with a bunch of other feral children.

and b) due to the whole liquid-miller situation. i have a lot of thoughts on ocelhira and how it mightve played out, and half of them contradict the rest, but i do think ocelot genuinely liked kaz and liked working with him. whether or not that was reciprocated is where my contradictory thoughts lie. they likely worked together post-1984 in foxhound, but it's unclear for how long.

so fast forward to 2005 where hes working with liquid, who has grown up into a handsome man who, aside from the hair, is the spitting image of big boss. hes more vindictive and hateful, but still eerily similar. his motivation to create a safe place for the genome soldiers mirrors big boss's goal of a nation of soldiers. and hes willing to blow up the rest of the world to do it. hes got a similar inspirational charisma that lands him leadership of foxhound, commanding the rest of the mgs1 bosses and the entire genome army.

so not only does ocelot draw parallels between him and big boss, which has tangled romance feelings involved, but also when liquid decides to kill miller and impersonate him, ocelot gives him a lot of information in order to be convincing (im assuming). tapes and videos and records to get to know miller better, and ocelot watches him literally transform into a copy of younger miller, very similar in age to when ocelot first met miller. (assuming they met at some point after 1975, kaz wouldve been early 30s, and liquid is also early 30s in 2005).

liquid's impression is of foxhound miller, but its probably still uncanny and takes ocelot off guard. so now hes contending with his past relationship with big boss AND miller, with whatever insane feelings he must have about the two of them focused into one guy.

the entire time this is happening, ocelot is working to undermine the entire plan and conspiring with solidus. so he doesnt fully respect liquid nor does he take him seriously. their interactions with each other feel like ocelot is just going along with whatever liquid says, because liquid thinks hes in charge. ocelot is willing to be insulted and humiliated by liquid to advance the overarching plan. (solidus' to overthrow the patriots using the data stolden from REX, ocelot's to later betray solidus and maintain the patriots. all that fuckery.)

but i think ocelot is having the time of his life during this. it feels like working with big boss. it feels like working with miller. every time liquid puts on the sunglasses or gives an order as the boss of foxhound, its like standing in the room with one of two ghosts that feels entirely real. thats gotta be confusing as fuck. but also hot.

so i think ocelot has a lot of conflicting feelings on liquid but ultimately is attracted to him, not for who liquid is, but for who he reminds ocelot of. its something ocelot can have a little fun with while still achieving his overall goal of supporting the patriots. (until its his turn to overthrow them. jesus christ ocelot why is your plan so convoluted.)

meanwhile liquid i think believes ocelot IS the foolish old man he portrays himself as during mgs1. he didnt respect ocelot when they met in the 80s, and he still doesnt take him seriously in 2005. i dont think liquid is interested in ocelot at all. if anything, it would simply be for the power trip of controlling his father's former right-hand man. possibly feelings of anger/hate from ocelot's close association with big boss. he probably realizes ocelot has some kind of feelings toward him, maybe not realizing the extent of it, but uses this to his advantage. perhaps he even believes this is why ocelot is willing to endure the insults and humiliation.

overall i think their dynamic would be strange, nostalgic pining against a somewhat bitter distrust and disrespect + a mutual feeling of superiority/incompetence.

they both think theyre taking advantage of the other. ocelot wants what he can no longer have, because both miller and big boss are dead. liquid is a stand in for them. liquid thinks hes in charge and in control of shadow moses, and he doesnt take ocelot seriously enough to consider something else is going on behind the scenes. he focuses his anger at big boss towards anyone who was associated with him- snavid, miller, ocelot. they both use each other as proxies to channel strong emotion.

its fucked :]

[gayenerd]

Interview with Billie for the Kerrang Yearbook. Sounds like this took place around 2000-2001?

Hello Billie Joe. A bit pissed at the Kerrang Awards weren't you? "I was drinking with Papa Roach the night before. Everybody went to see The Cult in Brixton. All the American bands like Papa Roach and Queens Of The Stone Age were there. I felt terrible when I got out of bed to go to the Kerrang Awards." Who ended up worse off - you or Coby Dick? "Sometimes Coby can't even hold it together when he's sober! He's super-hyper all the time. You have to say, 'Coby, turn it off for 2 minutes - I'm in my bunk!' Then he'll turn it off and you can get into a decent conversation." You experienced some difficulty in getting off the stage after accepting your Kerrang Award. "Award's shows freak me out - I'm so scared shitless of those things so I end up doing stupid things. I never theought I'd ever win an award for playing music. Watching all our videos being shown up on the screen, I just looked at Mike and Tre and said. 'Does this mean we're old now?' I can be such a self-conscious freak. I just don't know how to be cool." What's the healthiest thing you've done this year? "I like to keep myself fit. I run, I skateboard, and i'll hit the weights every other day. You reach a certain age when you've gotta start looking out for yourself. I'm staring down the barrel of 30, you know? My dad really let himself fall to @#%$ and I don't want to end up like that. Theres a preconcieved idea about musicians and punk musicians in particular that we have to self-destruct, and I can't buy into that. I like to breathe. Like like it when my heart beats - Its a really cool thing." Have you cut down on your drinking recently? "When i'm on tour I drink all day long with the guys. There's nothing else to do. But i've been at homea while. There are many, many moods to Billie Joe. There's drunk me and theres not-drunk me." What have you learned about being a father during the past year? "You learn new things every day as your kids' characters and personalities are building. Joey is 6 now, he's not a baby at all, he's a little boy. And Jacob, who's 3, is a maniac. The one rule I have is that I never expose them to television." What have you learned about Tre and Mike this past year? "Wow (long pause). I learned that Mike is a Bob Dylan fan, which was kind of suprising. I'm not the biggest fan but I definately appreciate Bob Dylan. And Tre is becoming really fluent in Spanish. His wife is Nicaraguan." What color has your hair been this year? "I shaved my head when I got off the road. Its been black. I haven't really been changing it. When the boy groups started dyeing their hair, I had to stop." Any fashion tips you'd care to pass on to Kerrang readers? "I've been wearing the same pants since High School! Never been into the Versace thing." Best punk rock song you've heard this year? "Last Nite by The Strokes. They're not really a punk band, but those guys have a really cool outlook and a good sensibility about how they present themselves. All the rap rock metal bands have lost that rock'n'roll element, and i'm just a sucker for good rock'n'roll music." What song has been stuck in your head this year, even though you hate it? "Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm. It was bad when Michael Jackson sang it, but it's even worse second time around! Y'know, I think Michael Jackson should join Slipknot. His face looks so bizarre now, its like he's wearing a mask." Are Slipknot still the scariest dudes in rock? "In about a year from now, if they're still as popular as they are now, they'll be as American as apple pie. That's sort of what happened to Marilyn Manson. When he came out he was really scary looking, like 'Jesus Christ! This guy is a maniac!' But now its, 'Oh, theres Marilyn, mowing the lawn, no big deal.' I like Manson, but it's funny how the most normal people end up being the most threatening, and the people who are scariest at first end up kinda normal. That's the dissapointing thing about shock value. Neil Young is more threatening than Slipknot just because he's smarter and has more of an opinion." How much fun did you have on tour in 2001? "It's really exciting at first because you're in different places every day, but after a while i'd rather be home. I get into really long conversations with my wife, I talk to my kids a lot, I'll write little notes and draw pictures for them and fax them to the house. Our sets are getting longer, sometimes we'll play up to three hours, and its because there is no rock'n'roll lifestyle for me other than that. I'm a devoted husband and a devoted father, and so all that decadent bullshit is not my thing. You start to wonder, 'Is this the life for me?' But then I get home and I dont know what the @#%$ to do with myself because i'm not playing music. People have looked at us and gone, 'Obviously these guys have no place to go after the gig because they're still on stage!'" Where were you on September 11? "I was on West Coast time, so it was really early in the morning for me. I saw the towers fall, and it felt like the world was gonna end. What amazes me is that Tony Blair is almost heading the coalition by himself! Does he realise what he's getting his country into? This is @#%$ serious! There's been a lot of shocking words used: the 'crusade against terrorism'. The las thing you say to someone from the Middle East is the word 'crusade'." After September 11, do you share America's renewed sense of patriotism? "No way. I can't really see myself as a patriot. I don't see what happened in New York as an act of war, it's an act of terrorism. Every country has had to deal with terrorism in some form, and this is the first time America has ever seen it and they dont know what to do, so everyone is clinging to these war slogans. All the flags is people's cars and homes - it just seems kind of gross to me." Has American learnt from the tragedy? "I hope some good stuff comes out of this. People have become so self-absorbed and dedicated to their careers. I'm not a person to wave a flag for family values or anything like that, but there comes a time when your relationships and your family is the most important thing, not whether you're making $100,000 every year. Thats what I hope comes out of it - that people realise the important things in life." Six Of The Best Best Friend: " Valium. Lots of plane flights, man. Valium only lasts four hours, so if you're on an 11 hour flight take two and a half." Best advice: "Put your head between your knees if you think you are gonna pass out." Best Ass: "Tre Cool. Not only because he has one, but because he is one." Personal Best: The pinnacle moment for me this year, musically, was playing Reading. It was a great show. There's so many bands nowadays who can't play live, but to actually do it and have people singing along and getting something sentimental out of it at the same time, thats rare, and we achieved that at Reading." Best Night Out: "The furst night I went out after september 11. I really went for it. American has these feelings of its days being numbered. It's like a country that has just got cancer, but the cancer's in remission. A lot of people are doing all the things they've always talked about doing. I hadn't partied really hard in a while, so that's what I did. I went to a couple of bars with Mike and Tre and our producer. We got loud and had a good time." Best Buy: " My cellphone. The ring tone is just a goofy tune. And it vibrates well in my pocket."

[tsc-updates]

16k One-Shot: Heronstairs

December 26 1876

“It’s not what it looks like…”

Jem stared at him from the opposite side of the room. He was leaning on one of the bedposts, his arms crossed over his chest. His silver eyebrows were raised. “It looks like it hurts you to be sitting.”

Will leaned back against the headboard and winced as a small pain went through from his lower back to the top of his spine. He bit down on his lip hard, and his eyes pressed shut. When he opened his eyes again, he looked up at Jem, whose brow had creased in worry. “If I tell you, promise not to make fun of me?”

Jem shook his head, a small smile contrasting with the worrisome in his silver eyes. “You know I can’t make such a promise.”

Will sighed and forced himself to get up. There was no lingering pressure in his injured area, but the movement of standing up left small pinches there. Will turned to his best friend and tried to not show his discomfort, though he knew that if there was someone that could tell his body was more stiff than usual, it was Jem. “I did something.” Jem nodded as a sign for him to continue. “I got a tattoo.”

Jem’s creased brow softened as he tried to stifle a laugh. “You got a tattoo.” Will nodded once. “On your arse?” Will nodded once again. Jem was quiet for a few seconds. “Let me see.”

Will chuckled. “What?”

“Let me see it,” Jem said again, with conviction.

“You want me to show you my arse?”

“No, I don’t want you to show me your arse, I want you to show me the tattoo.”

“Well, the tattoo is on my arse, so if you want to see it, you’re gonna see my bare arse.”

Jem considered this for a second. “Alright.” He shrugged.

Will stared at him. “Really?”

“I’m far too curious to care.” Jem grinned.

Will smiled. “Lock the door.” Jem kicked himself away from the bedpost and moved to the door of Will’s bedroom. He shut the door, locked it with the key, the chain, and just to be sure, he drew a Lock rune as well. Will placed himself at the foot of the bed. He felt Jem behind him as he undid his trousers. He hooked his trousers and his undergarments on his thumb and pulled one side down to reveal a small spot of bright red.

Jem tilted his head. “I can’t see what it is.” He shook his head. “You’re gonna have to take off your trousers.”

“I’m not going to get naked in front of you!” Will pulled his undergarments and trousers back up.

“Afraid I’ll peek and laugh?”

“Trust me, if you peeked you wouldn’t laugh. You might fall in love with me.” Will smirked. “I’m that attractive.”

Jem snorted. “Just drop your trousers.”

Will sighed. “Fine. Fine…” He took a deep breath and let his clothes fall. He couldn’t see Jem, but he could feel his eyes on his lower half. “So? What do you think?”

“Very patriotic.” He could hear the amusement in Jem’s voice. “And incredibly big.”

Will couldn’t resist. “Not the first time I’ve heard that while naked.”

Jem sighed. “You know I can see it, right?”

Will was silent for a few seconds. “It’s chilly.”

Jem snorted. “Just pull your trousers up.” Will did such and turned back to Jem, who was smiling with his entire face. “So a tattoo, uh?”

“It’ll be a hit with the ladies.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Jem made a show of looking around the room. “What ladies?”

“Look who’s talking!”

“Hey, I have a disease.”

“No.” Will shook his finger at him. “You can’t use that to get the last muffin at breakfast and to explain your lack of romantic dalliances.”

“Did I already use that today? I’m sorry.” Jem crossed his arms. “I should get a new thing.”

“You could always get a tattoo like me.” Will grinned.

“If you suggest a Chinese dragon, I’m kicking you.”

Will gasped. “That’s a great idea!” Jem face palmed himself, and he could hear him mutter something under his breath. “Just think about it. We would have matching tattoos!”

“William…” He pulled away the collar of his shirt to showcase the parabatai rune on his shoulder. “We already have a matching tattoo.”

Will put his hand on his heart, where his own parabatai rune stood. “And this one turned out so excellent, so why not get another one?”

Jem chuckled. “No.”

“Alright, alright.” Will waved his hands rapidly. “Not a dragon. How about a Chinese character?” Jem’s ears perked up at that. He did that whenever he was listening attentively but didn’t want to show it. “A small one, somewhere no one would see?”

“I really hope you’re not about to suggest I tattoo something on my arse.”

Will chuckled. “I was thinking more among the lines of on your side.” He touched his area where his ribcage ended. Jem’s hand dropped to the same spot. “And if I may suggest a specific character to tattoo, how about the one for ‘best friend’?” Jem let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, ‘will’ is a thing!”

“You sure are.” Jem nodded, still laughing.

Will grinned. “I meant that ‘will’ is something other than a name. It signifies something along the lines of determination and desire. That’s a pretty good thing to tattoo.” He went over to his desk-table and pulled out a piece of paper and ink, along with a nib pen. “What would it look like?”

Jem came up behind him and took the nib pen from him, dipping it in ink and drawing the characters on the paper. “Like this.”

Will looked sideways to his parabatai’s face. He could see a side of his lips pulled up in a small smile, and his eyes glinting with a look that Will recognised. Determination, desire. Will.

Jem straightened up, and Will pulled himself up as well. “I’ll think about it.” Jem put his arm around Will’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s try to find a way to explain to Charlotte why you need to seat in a soft pillow at dinner.” Will laughed all the way out of his bedroom, the thought of Jem getting a tattoo soon to be forgotten in both of them. The small piece of paper to be lost amongst his things, only to be discovered over ten years later, while Will played with the child who carried his best friend’s name.

It made him smile until the tears started falling from his eyes. That’s when little Jamie put his hands on his father’s cheeks, and wiped them away, his big golden eyes full of that very same will. “Don’t cry, Papa.” He had said. The tears cleared, the laughter returned, and the paper was stuffed between a random book.

Over a hundred years later, the paper was found once more, this time by the hands of the writer. Looking for a book to read to his little girl, who too carried a variation of his best friend’s name, the piece of paper had fallen as he passed his fingers over the pages.

He carried it to the big armchair next to the crib, and let himself fall slowly on the cushions, as the sobs escaped his throat. That’s when little Mina stood, shaking her rattle. He looked up at the small child, with eyes as brown as his own, and laughed as she put her tongue out and made a pffff sound. He took her into his lap, and showed her the piece of paper, retelling her the story of his moronic best friend who had gotten a tattoo in a less than ideal place. “Don’t get ideas.” He whispered against her hair and laughed.

The paper went back in the book, to be forgotten again. To be found only when both souls were long gone, together once more at last.

[dcbbw]

After our conversation last night/early this morning? I just randomly thought of this, and had to ask. Is there any sock that SGL absolutely refuses to wear? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Thanks for the ask, @bebepac! This is just a quick SGL x Penelope drabble, that answers your ask and gives us some insight into SGL’s thoughts towards his relationship with the one who is not Riley B.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Thanks so much to pre-readers @ao719 and @burnsoslow! And a special shout out to Burnsy for knowing/remembering future plots and storylines better than me!

Song Inspiration: Open Your Eyes, Snow Patrol: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30buQ1jEDas&list=PL4gAMikm-cPhkzvcBNPo0bV7l3YrwgyJR

Liam gently pulled his bedroom door closed behind him before heading into his kitchen. He wore a wife beater, his boxer briefs, and his socks adorned with dancing Care Bears and the phrase: “heart full of dumb.”  He called them his Penelope socks.

It was Saturday night; early-ish on a Saturday night: 9:30pm. It was warm and humid outside, cool and comfortable inside. Liam was pulling a tuna and pasta salad out of the refrigerator when his eyes landed on the reason he was indoors eating dinner alone, instead of sharing Thai food and sushi with his girlfriend at Regent Thai: a pair of Indianapolis Colts socks, still on their hook.

The abomination.

Liam kissed Penelope lightly on her lips as she entered his apartment. She wore a semi-sheer blue maxi dress that matched the color of her eyes. Her dark brunette hair was brushed away from her face, falling in soft waves about her shoulders. She and Liam were spending the weekend together: Saturday night dinner, followed by a play and brunch on Sunday.

“I still don’t know why you never want to spend the weekend at my place,” Penelope complained as she walked past Liam, enveloping him in a cloud of Flower Bomb perfume.

“Because you live in a sorority house,” Liam explained as he went back to mixing the tuna and pasta salad together.

Penelope shared a three-bedroom, two-bathroom row house with two other ladies, Annabelle and Katie. Annabelle was dating a guy named Ernest Sinclaire, and Katie’s boyfriend was named Rashad Domvallier. Liam had met them all on several occasions, usually when the men were waiting in the living room for their girlfriends to finish getting ready for their respective dates.

Between shrieks and giggles from the women as they ran up and down stairs wearing slips and hair curlers, Liam discovered that Ernest was a property manager for several commercial buildings in downtown DC, and Rashad was co-founder of a technical security start-up. The men had exchanged business cards and phone numbers and met up monthly for drinks and dinner.

Penelope dug in her oversized tote and pulled out a plain brown bag. She held it out to Liam. “I brought you something!” she said brightly.

Liam raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend. “A present? For me?” Penelope was not known for her gift giving ability.

He held out the mixing spoon and let her taste the tuna. Her eyes widened. “It tastes …. delicious! And different!”

Liam smiled proudly. “I added avocado lime ranch dressing and crushed red pepper flakes to it!”

Penelope reached for a fork to scoop more tuna and pasta while Liam took the bag from her, opening it eagerly. His expression fell when he pulled out the pair of cobalt blue socks decorated with white horseshoes.

Penelope had brought him the socks of his sworn NFL rival team. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I’m.Not.Wearing.These,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

Aside from obviously feminine hosiery, and children themed socks (except Sesame Street characters … one was never too old for Sesame Street), Liam would be hard pressed to name a sock he wouldn’t wear.

Leave it to Penelope to find the ones.

Penelope looked at him with surprised eyes. “What? Whyyyy?” She whined.

“Because if you knew me AT ALL, you would have known to buy me Patriots socks! Or ANY other NFL team except the Colts! I CANNOT STAND the Colts. They are the sworn enemy of the Patriots, and I refuse to support that team in any capacity!”

Penelope’s hand slammed on the counter. “It’s SOCKS, Liam! A fucking pair of socks! I saw them; I know you well enough to know you love football and socks! I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE THEM! Instead, you are biting my head off because you don’t like the team!”

She wiped away angry tears that were beginning to fall. “You’re an ass. And I wasted my time and money even thinking you would appreciate ANYTHING I do for you!”

Penelope picked up her bag which was sitting on the counter and tossed her fork into the sink. The clattering of the utensil against the stainless steel seemed especially loud. Liam had his hands splayed against the kitchen island, his head down.

“Pen, don’t go. I’m sorry. Please stay.” He looked up at her, his dark eyes remorseful.

Penelope stood at the edge of the kitchen, her blue eyes filled with anger and hurt.

“I’m trying, Liam. I thought you would like them.”

“I know you are. Come here.” He held his arms out.

He spent a few minutes reassuring Penelope that she was a good girlfriend as he kissed her hair. He gave her soft kisses on her lips which quickly deepened; he willingly followed her into his bedroom where his lips, tongue, and manhood apologized in ways words couldn’t. Afterwards, there was cuddling, and before Penelope drifted off to sleep, she told Liam she loved him.

Liam didn’t respond.

Now he was sitting in his living room, eating a solitary dinner as a thousand thoughts went through his mind: Penelope didn’t know him, not the way he knew her. She didn’t know Liam’s favorite color, book, holiday, or movie. She didn’t know his favorite drink, or favorite meal. Obviously, she had no idea about his favorite football team. She barely knew when his birthday was.

She was not good girlfriend material; at least for him she wasn’t. She was clingy, needy, and always had a crisis going on, usually financial or emotional. She was jealous and insecure. She had no skill set and no job stability. She was not supportive of his professional goals and not understanding of his ambition.

Liam exhaled a long breath as he watched the Housewives of Atlanta spill tea; he reached for his phone and dialed Riley B. The phone rang four times; Liam was about to hang up when she answered with a breathless hello.

“Hey, Riley B. Were you busy?”

She responded with a loud shriek, followed by giggles.

“Are you okay?”  Worry laced Liam’s tone.

“Drake is kicking my ass in a water gun fight!” Riley explained.

Liam’s expression was a myriad of happiness, sadness, and jealousy. That could be him having a water gun fight with her, but she didn’t see him that way. Hell, it could be him and Penelope having one, but she was so anal about her appearance.

“Sounds like fun.”

“Whatever!” Liam could hear the eyeroll in her response and chuckled lightly. “Did you miss the part where I said I was getting my ass kicked?”

Another shriek, and then her berating Drake for almost getting her phone wet. “Are you good?” she asked Liam.

Liam nodded, even though Riley couldn’t see him. “I am. Just wanted to check on you.”

“Hey, let’s get together Monday after work, okay? I can tell you where I buried Drake’s body.”

“Monday. You got it!” Liam hung up while Riley was yelling at Drake that he was gonna get it!

He finished his dinner, and washed dishes. His eyes kept glancing at the socks. Penelope’s I love you reverberated throughout his brain. When he placed the last dish in the rack, he rinsed the sink and then wiped his hands. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the socks and carried them with him back into the living room.

He cut off the television before removing the Care Bear socks. He wiggled his toes as he stared at the Colts socks. The material felt nice against his hand. He closed his eyes and tensed his jaw as he pulled one sock over his foot and pulled it up his calf.

Forgive me, Tom Brady.

He pulled the other sock on swiftly, drawing in a deep breath as he stared at his outstretched legs. The socks fit well and felt good against his skin. His thoughts turned back to Penelope.

Penelope was trying. She was cute enough, and she made a mean drink; topless, at that. They had some things in common. They had good sex. She liked his cooking. She brought him a present. Aside from Riley B., no woman had ever brought him present. His mother didn’t count.

Riley B. and Drake were happy and having fun. Riley B. and Drake were in a relationship that was still going strong after two years.

Liam wanted a relationship. Liam wanted love.

Penelope loved him.

He turned out lights as he made his way back to the bedroom. Penelope stirred when she felt Liam press up against her back.

“Where’d you go?” she asked sleepily.

“To put on my new socks.”

Penelope snuggled closer to him. “Do you like them?”

Liam bit his lip and swallowed over the lump in his throat. “I love them. And you.”

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @emceesynonymroll @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @jessiembruno @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @zaffrenotes @bebepac @liyanin @dibberdipper @choiceslife @ac27dj @yungnayque

[chris-evanslover]

Captain Patriotic

Summary: OFC Samara is invited by her friend Carly to a patriots game where she meets Carly’s brother Chris Evans

Word Count: 2.2k

The autumn chill floated through the room as I stepped out of the en-suite bathroom wrapped in a fluffy mint green towel. My (now clean) bare feet padded across the hardwood to the beige, brown and white aztec patterned rug that sat on the floor in front of the painted white wood dresser.

What the fuck do you wear to a football game? I stood in front of the drawers with my hands on my hips contemplating giving my coworker and friend Carly an excuse as to why I couldn’t make it to the game she invited me to with her family.

Speaking of her family, I have met her younger brother, Scott and her mom, Lisa but no one else from the Evans family, even though with all the stories she’s told me about the clan, I feel like I know them already.

Shaking my head I decide this is the perfect opportunity to get to know her family, it’s in public and I can leave if things take a turn for the worse right? (which I highly doubt would happen but i’m prepared just in case). Carly invited me last week to come to the Patriots home game since her husband was away on business and in the spur of the moment I thought it would be fun, but now i’m just downright freaking out.

I pull out an off white cable knit sweater with dark wash skinny jeans and start to change. After changing I put on some light makeup and blow dried my hair before throwing on some light brown booties and a brown jacket, grabbing a banana with Nutella and a to go coffee cup, I got in my car and made my way to the stadium.

Frantically arriving 45 minutes later (thanks to Boston traffic) I park my car and shoot Carly a text that i have arrived. Yay! Waiting for you at the Main Entrance, I’m wearing a red shirt, see you in a few! she replied.

‘Main entrance, main entrance, main entrance’ is all that’s running through my mind as I walk from the parking lot to the larger than life stadium. AHA! I found the huge sign that says main entrance as I roll my eyes not knowing how i had missed it while I was scanning the stadium for the past 5 minutes. As I draw closer I start looking for Carly in a red shirt and I see her already looking at me waving with her left hand, and holding her daughter Stella with her right arm, next to her I see her brother Scott who looks like he’s taking a very serious phone call.

I finally reach the pair, smiling wide giving Carly a hug and one to Stella too who ends up jumping into my arms which makes me stumble a bit but gratefully my clumsiness stays in check, for once. I give Scott, who just got off his phone call, a one armed hug saying our hellos and we’re off walking to the box seats they were telling me about on the way.

Scott turns to me while we wait for the elevator up, “So Samara, have you ever been to a patriots game?” “No actually I haven’t been to any football game, my family was really big on Baseball” “oh really what team” “Yankees, being from New York you have to be a Yanks fan or you’re not a ‘true’ new yorker” you replied with air quotes around ‘true’. “Oh boy, don’t mention that team around Chris, he might just kill ya” Carly muttered.

Ah, the ‘famous Chris Evans’ if you will, Carly has told me a lot about her brothers career, even I’ve checked out a couple of those Captain America movies (for science, had to see if he was worth all the hype). There was no doubt Chris was an attractive man which is why my nerves shot through the roof as the elevator doors opened. The four of us walked into the elevator and were ascending to the box level of the stadium. I tried to calm my nerves silently in my head repeating the mantra ‘he’s just a guy spending the day with his family, don’t be weird’.

The elevator ding shook me from my thoughts as I followed Carly, Scott and Stella as we walk down a long hallway to box 35 with a plaque under the numbers that reads

‘America’s Greatest Captain’

Chris Evans

Audibly swallowing I follow them as they open the door to loud conversations and drinks being poured. I spot Miles and Ethan hanging onto their grandpa, Carly’s dad who I’ve yet to meet but have seen pictures of. Scanning the room I see Lisa coming towards me with open arms, I happily return her hug.

“I’m so glad you could make it Samara! We’re gonna have a great day but just a fair warning, Chris and Scott tend to get a little rambunctious at these games” she winks at me. Speaking of Chris, I see his tall figure behind Lisa facing away from us and towards the field talking to Scott. Jesus Christ his shoulders are the widest i’ve ever seen in my life. Lisa ushers me over to Carly and Shanna who are busting drinks out for everyone.

“So great to meet you! Half of my family loves you so it’s great to finally meet the girl who stole their hearts” Shanna laughs. I laugh with her and tell her that she’s prettier in person and she waves me away telling me something along the lines of she already likes me and i don’t have to be polite. I laughed with her and we were interrupted by her father Robert who comes over to say hello, which I graciously reply to and before I know it were talking about my horrible braces experience, seeing he is a dentist after all.

Chris hadn’t even looked my way since I got here and honestly I was very intimidated by him. I talked to the kids for a couple minutes before Scott waved me over, “Samara, meet Chris, he might look tough but he’s all fluff trust me” with that Chris punches Scott in the shoulder in a friendly way and Chris looks up to meet my eyes. Of course his eyes are just as blue in person. I clear my throat and extend my hand, complimenting him on his wonderful family. I think he was kind of shocked by my gesture because it took him a second to register what I had said to him. He laughed and shook his head and opened his arms for a hug.

“Haven't you met my family, we’re huggers” he laughs. I laugh along with him not knowing how long I should hug him for. I settled on a quick 5 second hug because on the inside I don’t know if my poor heart could handle more than that. I needed to put some space between me and mister Broad Shoulders for the sake of my mental health.

When I pulled away I smiled and looked at Scott who raised his left eyebrow at me and smirked. I shook it off hopefully not sabotaging myself by blushing harder than I already was. C’mon Samara get a grip. He’s a huge Hollywood actor, he hugged you to be nice. sit your ass down and enjoy the game.

The cheers from the stadium started picking up as the game began and everyone took seats, I went to the bathroom quickly before the game started and when i came out I saw that there was a seat open in between Carly and Chris. Great, my plan to distance myself from Chris was coming along swimmingly.

I sat down in the seat and tried to calm myself down so that Chris couldn’t see me mentally bugging out. Carly was a blessing in disguise as she started up a conversation about the players and who to watch for. Chris however had the same idea as his sister. “Are you a patriots fan?” How the hell do I break this to him. “Uh-Um not exactly, I didn’t really grow up around football so I admit I don’t know much” I laughed, slightly nervously. “I’m actually very glad to hear that, now I get to make you love the Pats” he winks at me. Yeah you read that right, he winked at me. Cue the dramatic subconscious faint.

I laughed along with him while he told me about his favorite players and what he likes about the game, Me being, well me, hung on to his every word and watched in admiration as his face lit up talking about the sport. Drowning out his voice I noticed I was staring at his lips. Again for science just, making sure they’re uh, there. I noticed his lips turned up into a smirk and that he was no longer talking about football but smirking at me daydreaming about his lips. Shit. I snapped out of my head and nodded, clearing my throat. “You’re very passionate about the game, You ever play?” He laughs and says he tried but he’d much rather watch than be knocked around out on the field.

The game was in full swing at this point, at the end of the second quarter, Chris stood up and asked if I wanted one of his special cocktails. I told him only one since I drove to the stadium to which he replied “I could always give you a lift and you could get your car tomorrow”. Yeah I didn’t know what to say to that either. I laughed and told him “Depends how good this drink is”. He smiled and got to work at the bar, 2 minutes later he handed me probably the tastiest cocktail I've ever had but when I asked what was in it, “That’s for me to know and me only”

Out of the corner of my eye I glanced at Scott who looked at me then Chris and winked at me. I rolled my eyes and decided that if Chris was going to get flirty, two can play that game. Fake it till you make it right, pushing all my nerves down, “I might have to take you up on that deal after all” taking a sip of my drink while staring at Chris through my eyelashes, I turned on my heel and made my way back to my seat.

Chris made his way back a minute later, drying his hands on his jeans and took his seat next to me. Throughout the game, we talked about football and my life since i’ve moved to Boston. At the end of the game, The Patriots won and the Evans family couldn’t have been more excited. The energy they gave off was infectious and I found myself smiling all the way out of the stadium. Chris had made me two more of his drinks and promised to drop me off at home, although I had the drinks hours ago and could’ve passed a sobriety test with flying colors, I wanted to spend more time with him. I saw what Scott meant when he said he’s all fluff, he really is a genuine guy.

Saying goodbye to the Evans family as everyone went their separate ways to their cars, I followed Chris to his, making light conversation about the game. Chris, ever the gentleman, opened the passenger side door for me and went around the front of the Audi to the drivers side and slid in, starting the ignition. He peeled out of the parking spot and did that thing where he put his and on the back of my headrest to back up and I swear I couldn’t jumped his bones right there but managed to keep myself in check.

I gave Chris directions to my house and found out he doesn’t live that far from me, only about 10 minutes. As we pulled up I gathered my things and turned to say thank you but he was already coming around the car and opened my door, holding his hand out. God, why is he the perfect man? I take his hand and open my arms for a hug which he returns, “Thank you for your chivalry Chris, and for the ride home” “it’s my pleasure, I was thinking-” he scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly nervous. “maybe tomorrow, if you’re around we can get breakfast? I can also bring you to your car so you don’t have to get a cab to the stadium”

“only if we go to iHop” He let out a loud laugh clutching his left pec, they’re really so defined, Okay stop it Samara, you’re probably starring again. “you drive a hard bargain Samara, it’s a date, i’ll pick you up at 10” I started walking backwards towards my front door. “I guess I’ll see you at 10 then” “Have a good night Samara” he smiled and got back into his car while I walked up to my front door and unlocked it, I turned and waved once I was in the doorway and he did the same before driving off.

You closed the door behind you and slid against the door to the floor, you were going on a date with Chris tomorrow and you really couldn’t believe it. You went about the rest of your evening, a smile never leaving your face.

A/N: this is my first fic in a while treat her with love! constructive criticism always welcome, send me requests or just to chat💓

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[clansayeed]

Things Worth Keeping, or the Annual Raines Corp. Fourth of July Charity Gala

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil)

⥼ Summary ⥽

Kamilah takes great care in preserving some of the more sentimental articles of clothing she's acquired over the years. Nadya realizes she might have a historical costume kink.

word count: 2,775 rating: teen+ content warnings: language, brief political discourse, implied sexual undertones, implied kink

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽ 

So it turns out every time there’s an event that requires Kamilah’s attendance (specifically requires, since the Awakening Ball was both some weird vampire-political obligation and her wanting to see Marcel again) the mannequins come out.

Only for costume events though.

Or… she’s decided ‘every’ just because what are the chances she’s lucky enough to behold the sight of Kamilah Sayeed in period wear twice in one year? Apparently very good, very good indeed.

The vampire takes it upon herself to explain while fussing with a few collars and sleeves rumpled in transit. Nadya takes it upon herself to listen intently — takes everything in her willpower not to take notes. “Indeed one comes to terms rather early on that all objects are replaceable and their worth is only what the owner projects upon them,” which is quite a lot judging by the little smile Nadya sees peeking at the corner of Kamilah’s lips as she works, “and because I have had the misfortune of losing things I once coveted, I see no harm in preserving that which has stayed with me.”

Nadya adjusts her seat on the couch; makes sure the lid on her travel mug is secure otherwise she’ll never be allowed to drink in the front room again. “Is that a really fancy way of saying ‘I think it’s really pretty and I want to keep it that way?’”

Kamilah goes still. Not the tense kind of still that makes Nadya want to stuff her words back in her mouth but the kind of still she’s come to understand will reap very wise rewards. If she’s patient enough.

She’s learning to be patient enough.

“I suppose if you wish to bring the sentiment down to the simplest terms… yes.”

And oh man even that little agreement has Nadya buzzing excited.

“I’m so excited — this is gonna be so much fun!”

“What it will be, Nadya, is a gross exaggeration more akin to a serial drama than the real thing.”

“Wow, grumpy pants. Where’s your sense of patriotism?”

“In the same gutter as the ideals on which this nation was founded.”

Okay, fair point. But that brings up a very good series of questions all scrambling to make themselves heard. Which goes about as well as it always does and leaves Nadya tongue-tied and mute.

More than a few times Kamilah throws subtle looks in Nadya’s direction. Totally discreet and casual — done while circling a dress here, adjusting a cravat there. And each time she asks some variation of “Are you sure this is how you wish to spend your evening?” Nadya gives her the same answer.

“There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

The final time Kamilah is just close enough to turn crisp on her heel and bring them face to face. Her deep honey eyes roam Nadya’s face and spare no detail; like she’s one of those pretty dresses Kamilah’s kept after all these years.

It makes Nadya feel small and big, whole down to the tips of her toes but also just a sliver in Kamilah’s long long life. Which is a lot to feel for someone of her size. Maybe too much.

Cool, soft lips on her forehead force Nadya to open eyes she didn’t know she was squeezing shut. No longer scrutinizing, now the vampiress allows them both a rare glimpse behind the mask. To the concern she guards close and reserves for those she cares about.

Adrian, Gerard, Marcel… Nadya.

She cares about me that way. Holy cow.

“You truly mean that.” Kamilah says and it isn’t a question. Kamilah isn’t in the business of asking stupid questions to which she knows the answers — that’s Nadya’s ball game.

“Of course I do.”

“Forgive my surprise.”

“Always.”

It’s just a kiss. People kiss all the time, all over the world. But those people aren’t Nadya and they aren’t kissing Kamilah so they couldn’t possibly know how wonderful and important and loved each one makes her feel.

Along with all the other things that make her squeak when they part. It’s impossible to miss that look in Kamilah’s gaze.

“While I enjoy your company immensely Nadya… I may have to ask you to leave,” even though the trace of her finger over Nadya’s lips kind of contradicts that, “as I do have to attend a conference call before the night is through.”

Nadya doesn’t even care that her pout is a little childish. “I thought you took the day off for this.”

“I took a half day for this. You were the one who insisted on losing an entire night’s productivity to help me choose my attire.”

“I’ll be quiet?” There’s no harm in trying, right? Thankfully Kamilah still seems more amused than anything.

“You misunderstand.”

Does she, though, because there are only so many ways to take the sudden closeness. Kamilah’s hands braced atop the back of the couch pinning Nadya between the cushion and her permanence, the contradictory darkness in her bright eyes with their lowered lashes, and oh my god that smirk…

Then Kamilah’s leaning in to whisper in her ear and she’s just—just jello, absolute jello. “I had hoped to be finished by now, yet I keep finding myself distracted.”

Jello or not though Nadya will always be Nadya.

“I—I can leave, if… if that’s what you want.” I know work is important to you. I know schedules are important to you even though your organizational methods are outdated and frankly anxiety-inducing. I know you have a lot to get done and only so many hours of moonlight to do it…

Kamilah doesn’t answer. Instead just taps the underside of Nadya’s chin with her pointer finger and gives a smile in reward when the human lifts her head obediently.

“What do you want, Nadya?”

You know what I want, she would normally say, but if she did then all their… all their training would be for nothing. And don’t memories of that (as recent as, uhm, three in the afternoon today) make her zone out somewhere over Kamilah’s shoulder.

Seven mannequins; still headless, still creepy. Four beautiful ballgowns and a priceless Egyptian kalasiris†,��a definitely custom-tailored zoot suit, and…

Holy broad stripes and bright stars.

“I asked you a question.”

Oh yeah, she’s definitely wearing that.

Kamilah doesn’t have to remind her twice. Nadya leans forward what little she can; basks shamelessly in the one thing in the entire world she knows she’s earned—

The way Kamilah looks at her with absolute pride.

“You. I want you.”

Its so fulfilling to see all her hard work come together in one place, on one night, and with the promise of fireworks to come. There’s just something about fireworks. She loves ‘em.

Jax lets out his fifth heavy and long-suffering sigh of the minute. A personal best, but Nadya’s having too much fun to ruin the night by telling him.

Unfortunately her hoop skirt makes it hard to sidle up for a hip-check. Cue sigh number six.

“You know I’m technically the hostess for this thing, right?”

“Are you saying you’re the person I complain to?”

She huffs. “No, I’m saying that your grumpy face is personally offending me.”

She can’t tell if he’s purposefully avoiding her eyes out of spite or shame — then a roaring yelp of laughter from the dance floor draws Nadya’s attention out to where Lily and Maricruz spin fast-paced and free; held together by just their hands and their shared looks of ‘I couldn’t care less where I am so long as it’s with you.’

At least that gets a little smile out of Mr. Grumpy-Pants.

A costumed server stops at the pair of them and offers his tray of goodies up like sin. Nadya spares two quick glances over either shoulder — thankfully Adrian has donors to schmooze and Kamilah hasn’t arrived yet — before she plucks a cheese cube carved in the shape of the Liberty Bell.

But it isn’t enough that Jax has to act so unhappy the entire gala — now he’s stealing her snack and eating it himself?! Where’s my purse, where’s my stake?!

What else can she do but gape? He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, just chews and chews and swallows while trying to ease the itch in his legs caused by the borrowed hose.

“Lily warned me you might make bad choices.”

So what? I’m a grown woman, I can make bad choices if I want to. “Are all of you in on some big conspiracy to keep me from cheese?”

“If it’ll spare you future pain, yeah.” Which — she wasn’t expecting that. Nadya can’t help but feel her face soften. One look down her way though and he rolls his eyes. “Stop it.”

“You hate my party. You steal my cheese. What’s next, burning my crops and delivering a plague onto my house?”

Jax looks appalled — which is a real shame. That would have gone over so well with Lily. “I—what?!”

Nadya just waves it off though. “Forget it. Just…” oh hey look, time for her own sigh, “forget it.”

“It’s not you. It’s these tights.”

“They’re hose.”

“They itch.”

“Imagine wearing them all the time.”

Nadya is totally enjoying her frilly not-period-accurate-in-the-slightest ensemble but of course Adrian is the only one who looks really right in his whole get up. It’s a good thing he has to wear modern suits and styles or else he’d be pegged for a vampire right away.

Her boss pulls her in for a one-armed hug, expertly outmaneuvering the skirt but he probably has experience with that, huh? And his smile only widens as he takes in Jax in all his colonial glory.

“They were good in the winter, obviously. Though I’ll admit once I didn’t feel the weather anymore the discomfort really presented itself as a problem.”

Jax just rolls his eyes. “Why do I feel like you throw this thing just to say shit like that?” Which— she can tell he’s trying to be sarcastic but Adrian definitely goes tense beside her.

“I ‘throw this thing,’ as you say, because my own personal wealth can only go so far, and most of it is immaterial. But every donation is material, and that maximizes the good I can do with it.”

Nadya nods eagerly. “There’s like six different scholarships in STEM research alone, I think a dozen in the business sector, and when we get to our goal tonight —” she knows they will, Raines Corp. history states they always do and Raines Corp. never had her to push them above and beyond, “— the company’ll have enough to match the city’s bid for the abandoned tunnel reconstruction project.”

If he ever read the minutes she sent him after every Council meeting he’d know this, but when Jax said he didn’t do paperwork he meant he really didn’t do paperwork.

But it’s enough to get his attention. “And what happens then?”

Adrian shrugs. “I postpone it. The most I can do without getting politicians involved is five years but I figure… that should be long enough to either relocate the former Clanless and break even, or fortify the Shadow Den enough that any efforts won’t cause structural damage. Unfortunately Vega’s interim replacement hasn’t officially made her views on such things known, but I think with time —”

It’s—as Lily would put it—freakin’ cinematic. How Adrian’s voice fades away to a buzzing in her ears and Jax’s reply sounds like a mouthful of cotton. The music dims and the lights aren’t as bright except where they fall on her when she strides through the open double doors.

Now let it be known that Nadya firmly believes Kamilah looks amazing in anything. Her power suits, a crimson dress from centuries gone, the plum kimono she uses as a nightgown… Honestly she’d probably somehow make a banana costume look sinfully sexy.

No. What? No. Moving on.

And even though Nadya knew the moment she laid eyes on the uniform it was the non-negotiable choice — her brain put some weird filter on itself to keep her from imagining just what that looked like. Probably to try and keep her sane.

Because the real thing… there are literally no words.

Adrian’s laugh comes both from behind her and a million miles away. “Would you look at that. Now that is a sight that brings back memories.”

“Wow, color me surprised.” Jax deadpans.

Adrian is a close personal friend of the New York Historical Reenactment Society (surprisingly not a bunch of vampires… if there was ever a group suspect but no, she’s checked) and most of them are in attendance tonight. They make Nadya look like her dress—a gift from Adrian, rental only—was bought at a cheap pop-up Halloween store.

And Kamilah makes them look like a middle school theatre cast. There’s just something about the fabric, the way it fits her and the way she carries not just the uniform but her own body inside of it that makes her look authentic. No one would believe her; not with the freshly-oiled leather and polished brass buttons, but Nadya’s chaotic-dumb brain really wants to scream “take a look at the real deal, ya posers!”

Kamilah’s hand rests on the glossy hilt of her saber as she approaches. Eyes passing right over Adrian — probably used to the sight — and sparing Jax absolute no dignity in the soft “ha” she gives.

“I didn’t know we could wear uniforms.”

Kamilah raises an eyebrow and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “You… have one?”

“No,” sigh number seven, “but I would’ve tried to find one. Anything to get out of these tights.”

“They were useful during winter.”

Adrian laughs and gestures to her eagerly. “That’s what I said!”

Kamilah wasn’t ignoring her, not on purpose. That’s made obvious the second she finally does take in every skirt and frill, every pearl in her necklace and lets her eyes linger where Nadya’s chest heaves against her corset.

“Nadya, you look as beautiful as ever.” Then Kamilah takes her hand and kisses the back of it with a soldier’s courteous bow. Where’d I leave that dumb lace fan…?

She’s about 99.9% sure Kamilah holding her hand is the only thing keeping her standing right now.

Adrian snickers. Nadya couldn’t care less. “Careful there, General Sayeed††. Your lady seems about to swoon.”

Thankfully the woman takes heed and pulls Nadya close, possibly the most public affection they’ve ever had holy crap on a cracker, resting a hand on the curve of her hip. Yet she looks at Adrian with… what is that, mild annoyance?

“You know very well I was not named General until nearly a century later.”

Jax mouths his silent counting — blanches; “You were a General in the Civil War? You know what — of course you were.”

“A discussion for another day, perhaps.” Kamilah dismisses him just shy of pushing him out the door; lucky for Nadya both he and Adrian take the hint and fade into the cinematic background.

It’s just Nadya and Kamilah now.

“Hello.”

“H-Hi.”

Long fingers brush a strand of Nadya’s hair aside feather-light. “You do look… stunning, Nadya. You look stunning. Blue becomes you yet again.”

Blue? She’s wearing blue? Because her face is scarlet. “You — I mean — wow like…” words Nadya — words, “you really wore that and…” And fought in it?

Kamilah’s nod is curt. “In a sense. My skills were best suited to espionage, sabotage and the like.”

“Of course they were.”

“Though I’m gladdened to know the uniform still becomes me.”

As if it ever wouldn’t. “You look perfect in, like, everything.” But Kamilah’s not a fan of those kinds of blanket statements, so she tries again a little bit more from the heart. “You make a uniform look really good, that’s what I mean.”

The hand on her hip presses down then; important and as on purpose as everything else Kamilah does. Through the fabric right underneath her hand a familiar purpling not-at-all-bruise sings sweet on Nadya’s skin. Of course Kamilah knows where the love bite is. She was the one who gifted it.

“I may be the soldier…” Kamilah pulls her close; a hold of stone — she leans down to ghost a kiss at Nadya’s jaw (and knows it will drive her wilder than wild) and whisper in her ear.

“But you’ll be the one taking orders.”

Nadya’s last coherent thought?

She really needs to find more chances to get Kamilah in costume.

NOTE: While this fic technically exists in the Oblivion Bound universe it works standalone as well, I think. The only references are brief and to Maricruz Espinoza, a vampire original character and girlfriend of Lily, and a sort-of reference to the fact that Marcel survived in my fanfiction. Hopefully it still reads well!

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 72

Forty-eight hours came. And forty-eight hours went. The beginning of which you and Tony came to a mutually unmutual silent agreement that you were going to keep away from him. Something devastating was happening to you. Something you had no idea how to handle. Your powers were very clearly going haywire. And you just didn’t know how to fix it. 

It made sense. In an annoying way. Because your powers were emotion based- except for that thing you and Tony had. That deeper connection. And except for that one time you got so desperate you found a way to make Clint nearly end his own life- but those were separate special occasions. And what you were dealing with now was an inability to control yourself. You were leaking out from every pore. Feelings. Feeling too much. Too many. All terrible. And so you were infecting other people, because you couldn’t control yourself. And you couldn’t run the risk of hurting Tony more than he already was. So you stayed out of the office, focusing more on what you could do from home- and trying not to focus too hard on this Mandarin stuff. 

Then at the end of of those forty-eight hours, JARVIS alerted you that Colonel James Rhodes had landed in Washington, and was attending his promotion ceremony. He’d done such a good job as of late, that the powers that be had lifted him up. And at this little ceremony, which you and Tony were obviously, pointedly not invited to, the military also unveiled that with his promotion he would be commanding the new and improved Iron Patriot. 

After Rhodey’s ceremony was over, he called you while he was in flight, and asked to meet somewhere lowkey. Somewhere very down low. He suggested iHOP. Tony suggested Apple-Bees. To which you told them both you’d never be caught dead in either of those establishments- 

“That’s the point.” Rhodey had told you. And so your little group decided to split the difference and meet at a TGIFridays. 

Rhodey was there ahead of you. And you and Tony had decided not to lay into him about not being invited to one of his biggest career accomplishments in a little while. You’d also agreed not to talk about Iron Patriot unless he brought it up. Or the Mandarin. Or the bombings. 

But then, you were all a bunch of liars, weren’t you? 

“Iron Patriot, huh?” You asked first, taking a loud pointed sip of your soda. 

Rhodey just sighed, putting a hand to his face. “See- this is why-”

“Why what?” Tony sat back, arms crossing. “We weren’t important enough to be invited to your knighting?”

“I was doing you guys a favor!” Gesturing loudly at the two of you, truly believing himself as he spoke. “You have no idea how many times President Ellis asked about you. And I know you don’t wanna talk to him.” Almost accepting this truth, you and Tony shared a look between one another. And then Rhodey quietly sped through saying, “Also my bosses didn’t want you around to usurp the moment.” 

“Ah!” “See!” 

The both of you pointing fingers at him. You further ruined it, “Come on, Rhodey. Iron Patriot? Really? And that color job…” 

“It wasn’t my decision! It tested well with focus groups. And you hated War Machine, remember?” 

“She did.” Tony, nodding in agreement. Trying to play for both teams. 

You made a face at both of them. “So what I hated it. You think palette swapping the armor and giving you a fancy new name is going to fix anything? Everyone’s talking about it, Rhode. And not in a good way.” 

Rhodey sighed, very deeply so, head lolling back. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m unaware I’m being made fun of on all the network stations?” 

Tony, taking a loud slurp of his drink, reached over to pat Rhodey hard on the back. “Welcome to the club, pal. If you didn’t want that, we should’ve been first on the list to talk to. I mean- PR was her job, back in the day. Military liaison. You forget about that already?” 

“How could I?” 

You scoffed. “PR is still my job, thank you.” It practically made up half of everything you did. “And I’ll remind you that that suit is still intellectual property of Stark Industries, and by tweaking its image you’re in direct violation of-” 

Rhodey threw his hands up. “Oh. Here we go.” 

“You got her started, don’t look at me.” 

But you all looked at each other. And now with the pleasantries and ribbing out of the way, light smiles and little laughs graced each of you. Reaching out you gave Rhodey a little squeeze at his shoulder. “Congrats on the promotion.” While you might not have agreed still with Iron Patriot, Rhodey was doing his best. And you were absolutely just relieved to have him here, considering… 

Considering for a hot second there you thought he might have been taken from your lives completely. That was the risk he ran, sure. That was really the risk you all ran now with the lives you led. But the thought was terribly devastating. If that had happened, you probably would have fallen in line with Tony’s footsteps, and done whatever necessary to take that man out. You still weren’t sure you shouldn’t be involved, even if you didn’t really want to-

And Tony was feeling much the same way. Slurping down the rest of his drink before leaning in after the small chatter had completely finished to say, “So. Really. Tell me about this Mandarin guy. What’s really going on?” 

It was inevitable that the conversation would end up here. And now that it was out there, there was no taking it back. Even if you asked him to. ...and you kind of wanted to know, too. Not that you wanted to deal with more of Ellis. You waited quietly until Rhodey decided to answer. 

“It’s classified information.” But when the two of you gave him a long look he sighed. “Alright. Look… there’s been nine bombings total.”

Your lips pressed together, still trying to figure out if you should be walking this line. “That’s six more since the last time we heard about them.” 

Rhodey set his hands together on the table. “Yeah, well the public only knows about three- here’s the thing. Nobody can ID a device. There’s no bomb casings. No trace.” 

Saying this already set Tony up for trouble. Evidenced by his sliding in closer, immediately after hearing that. “You know we can help. All you gotta do is ask- I got a ton of new tech, I got a prehensile- I got a...I got a new bomb disposal. Catches explosions mid-air-” He was stuck. Talking quickly. Trying to say anything that would get this to click.

Because much like you, he was over focusing. Running himself ragged. And it was Rhodey that finally took a good look at him- then you- and then asked, “When’s the last time either of you have gotten a good night’s sleep?” 

“Why are you picking on me?” Asked with a hand to your chest. What had you done? It was Tony who was going off the rails. What gave Rhodey an idea that- 

“You look like hell. And don’t think I don’t know about the little highway incident.” 

At this you really were shocked. “It’s an incident now? I just had an anxiety spike- a terrorist took over national television, I think I’m entitled-  and who even told you about that?” Now overly defending yourself. Which only proved your guilt all the more. 

Luckily, Tony came to both your rescue. “Einstein slept three hours a year, look what he accomplished.” Though this really was not the most sturdy defense. But since you had none yourself… 

Rhodey sighed yet again. “I’m just… I’m concerned, alright? I’m concerned about you both. My base was the one that got bombed yet you two look like you walked out of a warzone- ...hell, are still in one right now. What’s really going on? Is this still about New-”

Tony spoke over him quickly. “You’re gonna come at me like that?” Hackles raised, clearly. Not wanting to even hear those two words paired together. ...had it really gotten that bad? 

You felt a small shift. He was uncomfortable. His mind was racing. Panic was starting to find its way to a simmer inside him. Reaching out you laid a hand to his arm. He couldn’t go off right now. It would no doubt have too much pull on you- and if you exploded again- “Tony…” Calm. Gentle. As kind as you could make the shape of his name. 

Falling in line, Rhodey looked at him. “Look. I’m not trying to be a dick-...tator...” 

His sudden stop and pointed look at the side of the table drew both your gazes the same way. You had visitors. Children visitors. There was no telling how long they’d been standing there. You hoped not too long. This was precisely the reason you should have met at the house. A dark crappy restaurant had been a good idea, but the fact was- 

Well. Tony had parked the suit outside, while you’d opted to arrive in a car with Happy. That was a discussion for another time. The same one you kept putting off and off and off… It was like he couldn’t get along without it. And, right now, like he’d wanted to be caught here. 

The little boy and girl held up their little pieces of art, no doubt worked on diligently with restaurant crayons. Siblings, perhaps? 

“Hi there.” You greeted them with about as much warmth as you could muster. Now was no time to lose it. Not in front of children. 

The girl, just a couple years older, smiled bright at you. “Do you mind signing my drawing?” 

You took hold of it carefully, taking a look. It was a picture of the Iron Lady, blasting down a row of angry squiggle monsters. “Of course not. What’s your name?” 

“Erin!” 

“Sure thing, Erin.” 

The little boy waiting patiently thrust his own drawing up Tony’s way. “What about mine?” 

“Sure. You know, I loved you in a Christmas Story, by the way.” You really wished he wouldn’t sass the children, but luckily nobody seemed to have heard him. “What’s your name?” 

“Anthony.” 

At this Tony huffed, shaking his head with a small grin. “Of course it is. Great name.” 

With you and Tony sufficiently distracted putting signatures on paper for your adoring fans, Rhodey leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “Listen, the Pentagon is scared. After what happened in New York... aliens, come on. They need to look strong. Stopping the Mandarin is priority, but it’s not…” 

“Superhero business. I got it.” Tony’s head was still ducked, really focused on his signature. But you felt the spike in anxiety once those two words were uttered. 

You, on the other hand, were slightly ruffled. “Well I don’t. If we’re not getting involved- which, by the way, I don’t want to- but then why is Ellis blowing up our phones?” 

Rhodey shook his head. “He’s just as scared, and maybe thinks he should be able to rely on you guys- but, that’s a discussion for a different time. That’s a whole other fight.” 

Tony’s tone was suddenly very curt. “I said I got it. I understand. I-...” 

You handed Erin her drawing back, but then reached out as you felt Tony’s resolve waver. As you felt him dip underneath a new wave. “Tony…” 

He pressed the crayon down on the paper, snapping it in half. Rhodey���s hand was on his other shoulder. “You okay?” 

Tony put a hand to his face. “I broke the crayon.” 

Rhodey soothed his hand over Tony’s shoulder. “Take it easy, Tones.” 

You rubbed his back, but already you were finding it hard to breathe. He was overwhelming you so suddenly. “Honey, you’re okay-” Trying to will that thought into existence for him. 

Erin looked up. “Are you alright, Mr. Stark?” 

You hoped against hope that he was going to pull out of this and be okay. But he was spiraling- and he startled you as he sprung up to his feet, suddenly unable to catch his breath. “I gotta- I gotta-” And then bolted, shoving restaurant patrons out of the way as he ran. In his wake he left you gasping for air as you felt yourself drowning in the wake of his panic. 

People were looking. Watching. Everyone was acutely aware Tony Stark had just pushed children aside and ran from a restaurant. You had to claw, had to grab tight of your better instinctual sense to protect him and his image. Because the rest of you had started disappearing so far beneath his waves you’d grabbed onto the table to keep yourself afloat. 

“Rhode-” 

“Go.” 

Knowing he would clean up here, freeing you to launch yourself out of your seat- steady yourself- because everything was fine. Tony Stark was fine- you tried to will the thought into existence so everyone with their phones out recording you wouldn’t make tomorrow’s headline. The last thing you needed. Once you found your feet, you calmly walked from the restaurant. 

Just barely outside, people were gathered around the Iron Man suit, which was kneeling on the ground. Inside you felt the tremble of his continued panicking and it smacked you so hard you wheezed an inhale, pressing a hand over your heart where you felt it start beating double time. 

As soon as you found your voice- “Move, please. Move.” And when people continued to stand around and stare at the spectacle he’d become- the much more interesting focal point- wondering about him, already starting rumors about him, speaking unkindly about him- 

You let anger take you instead. And after that you swept your hands up and then out in a motion just so. Literally clearing them out as you dropped into the dark space and saw each one of their nearby profiles. Every person standing too close to him, you poked with a little bit urgent need. 

Don’t you all have something to take care of? 

Walking around each unconscious being, a little tap tap on the shoulder. A little injection of worry. Thinking: 

Did I leave the curling iron on? I need  to make a phone call. The kids are waiting in the car- 

Didn’t matter. You just wanted them away from him. And once the zombified quick shuffle of feet came on and the two of you were left alone, you knelt down to him, trying to catch your breath. Feeling all too light headed. 

But you focused for him. “Tony.” Trying to level out your tone. Struggling. “Talk to me.” 

You expected the helmet to slide back. To see his face. To hear his actual voice. But instead you heard that slightly mechanical pang as it was broadcast out to you. “I gotta go.” 

Then with almost no thought at all he stood, practically knocking you back, and took off.

Just like that. 

Leaving you half sitting on the pavement, staring up at the sky. Watching him disappear. 

At that exact moment, almost every part of you wanted to give in. To lie down on the sidewalk and just… 

“Hey.” Looking over your shoulder, your saw Rhodey’s hand extended out. To help you. Weakly with your last bit of strength and resolve, you put yours in his and let him lift you. “What the hell was that?” And then, when you took too long to answer, he waved a hand in front of your face. Called your name once. Then set his hands on both your shoulders and turned you to actually look at him. “You okay?” Asking with every sense that you absolutely were not. 

A buzz took over your ear, and LUNA spoke, “Ms. Potts on the line for you.” 

Probably not good. Probably alerting you to the fact that videos of Tony’s meltdown were circulating already. Gaining buzz. Wanting to know what to do next. Weakly to Rhodey, “I’m fine- sorry, one second-” And then turning your head to the side, you tried to prep for more bad news. “Put Pepper on.” 

Pep’s voice started in in a flurry. “Hey, your five o’clock is here early. Which is bad because I kinda wanted to talk to you about this meeting before you went in- I know you’re probably busy, but can you come to the office?” 

A meeting. Trite. Trivial. So small in comparison to the fact that you were pretty sure your life was falling apart. Had been for a while now. And you had no way to stop it. 

That black hole almost swallowed you up, as you stared blankly into the distance. The feel of something on your face drew your attention back. Eyes picking up focus, you realized Rhodey had a handkerchief at your noise, and a gentle hand to the back of your head as he tilted you a little. “You’re bleeding.” 

“I am?” Hadn’t something like this happened recently, too? You took the cloth from him, wiping at your nose. “I’m sorry- about that-” 

“Don’t be sorry. Just be honest with me. You two are not doing so hot, huh?” Your frown as he said this, crossing his arms, probably told the whole story. “I have people you can talk to- and you seem like you need to talk to someone- I’m trying not to be overbearing here, but I think-” 

A shot passed through your ears. Something painful. Terrible. You just started nodding at him as you cut him off. “Yeah- no, I appreciate it. I do. Just. Send them over. I’ll look into it. I have to go- I have to… Pepper needs me and then I have to see what Tony’s doing- it’s date night-” Talking over him. Silencing him. 

When he really understood, he stopped trying and just shook his head. “Yeah. Look. I’m gonna be in town for a while. So just… I’m not far, alright? You want me to check in on him?” 

Waving over, you got Happy’s attention, who’d just been sitting in the car watching something on his tablet. After he started the car again and pulled up to the curb you offered Rhodey a terrible weak smile. “If he’ll let you. That would be nice. Thank you.” 

“Yeah. No problem.” His tone was quiet. A little defeated. 

Weren’t you all? 

[euphoric-melancholyy]

The Secrets We Keep

I’m on a personal vendetta against “May’s abusive boyfriend” trope so I thought it would be fun to give May a really awesome, loving boyfriend who’s just a little confused as to why she lets her teenage son stay out til 1 every night and sleep somewhere else every weekend. Also, he’s friends with Tony Stark? Chris - May’s new boyfriend -  feels like he’s missing something here. 

I’m posting this instead of a fic rec today

Also on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

May Parker hadn’t planned on stepping back into the dating scene, but then again she hadn’t planned on most of the important life events that seemed to shape her. His name was Chris. He was handsome, tan with dark hair and scruff that couldn’t quite be called a beard yet, and hooded green eyes that all the hospital patients commented on. Chris worked alongside her at Queens Memorial, exchanging quips about 90s pop culture and recipes to actually cook for Peter. He cared for his patients with a rare sensitivity to their needs, always trying to brighten their day and learn a little bit about what makes them happy.  Like her, he was a widower, having lost his wife eight years prior to cancer. And she hadn’t planned on him crashing her little bubble, being a balm for the isolation of raising a super-powered kid who seemed to attract danger like a magnet. Not that she could tell Chris that. 

But even so, he soothed her worries when Peter was out on patrol and being with him felt like relearning how to breathe. It felt euphoric, and scary and soothing and exciting all at once. She wasn’t sure when she had last smiled as much as she did when Chris entered the picture. It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter either, her newfound giddiness after long days at work now more commonplace than exhaustion. 

After three dates, she tells her nephew, nervously twirling spaghetti around her fork as she awaits his reaction. 

His eyes brighten as she speaks and he puts down his fork, eagerly leaning forward as she tells him about the Italian dinner he made for them on their last date. “That’s great, May! As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I know Ben would feel the same way, by the way." 

Peter’s lips are pressed together in a soft smile and she’s not sure why she’d been so worried to tell him. Pride overwhelms her in that moment, of who he is and his kindness, his inability to let the little guy suffer when he knows he can help. She might not love that he’s risking his life as Spider-Man, but she can still be proud of him for it. It coils in her chest with the near constant ebb of fear, but it’s warm and inviting and she’s not sure how she got to raise the best kid in the universe.  

"He’d be so proud of you, Pete.” She beams at him before eating a forkful of spaghetti.  “Spider-kid.”

“It’s Spider-Man, May.” He protests. “You sound like Mr. Stark when you make those nicknames.”

“Oh, we can’t have me sounding like him, now can we?”

“You already tag team me like divorced parents who stay friends, so I don’t see why not.”

“It’s called co-parenting,” she responds and Peter rolls his eyes. 

“So when can I meet this Chris?” Peter asks and she doesn’t even try to stifle her smile at his eagerness. She might not be able to help him with homework or any of his Spider-Man activities, but this - this she can handle.

-/-/-

They set ground rules. The first and most important rule is that Chris can’t know Peter’s Spider-Man, at least not for awhile. It means Peter can’t leave his suit lying around or continue crawling on the ceiling out of boredom or stress or whatever reason he decides it’s a better place to pace than the floor. 

They also agree not to tell Chris that he spends half his week with the Tony Stark. 

(“People at school already tease me about it being fake and I don’t care, but…it isn’t normal for a random teenager to just hang out with Mr. Stark. And what if he connects Spider-Man? Then that puts him in danger too and I just, I- I don’t want him to know yet May.”) 

This is a secret May still thinks she can handle — at least, for a time. If asked, she says that Peter has an internship with Happy Hogan.

And, in some weird twist of fate he never wants to experience again, Peter finds himself giving the talk. He’s beat red the whole time, cheeks flushed as he stammers through his explanation. 

(“May, I-I have enhanced senses and um, I can hear your heartbeat. And I can hear a - hear a conversation happening two blocks over right now. So like, if - if he’s gonna spend the night, or something, please for the love of my innocence, let me be at the Compound. Or- or just tell me. I need a heads-up.”

“If your hearing is actually that good, I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“Yeah, but not from you and I never want to.”)

-/-/-

The second rule is broken three weeks after Peter meets Chris. Though they get along famously, Peter usually isn’t around when Chris is at the apartment. It isn’t planned, he’s just busy and overcommitted. At this point, it’s only his third time being in the older man’s presence.

They’re all at the table together, eating lasagna that Chris had made when Tony knocks on the door and May answers. 

“Ah, Ms. Parker, lovely to see you as always. Mind if I borrow Peter for a few days? It’s for,” he glances at Chris and gives a signature fake smile and nod, “Internship stuff.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, what are you - what are you doing here?” Peter asks, his voice getting higher the more he talks. “I thought Happy was coming, not that it isn’t great to see you. It is I just - I-”

“Happy’s in the car, kid.” Tony says, smiling to himself at Peter’s nervous rambling. 

May sighs and side steps, inviting him in while Peter gets a bag together. “If anything happens to my kid Stark, I will personally come and kill you. FRIDAY will let me in and you won’t even see it coming.” She keeps her face stern for a moment, then breaks into a wide grin. “Chris, meet Tony Stark. Tony meet Chris."  

Chris is unsurprisingly starstruck and confused, stumbling over his words in a way that May finds to be the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. "Hi, uh, hi. You’re I-You’re here? And you’re Iron Man. And Peter?” he stops mid-ramble and extends his hand. Tony takes it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“Likewise. Peter’s told me a lot about you. Speaking of, kid, hurry up. I don’t have all day." 

Peter runs back into the common area, backpack in tow and wearing his suit, sans mask, under his clothes. The red spandex peaks out at his wrists. Tony cocks an eyebrow at his protege.  

"What?” the teen asks. 

“Nothing. Let’s go." 

Peter kisses May on the cheek, promising to be safe and update her three times a day, before following his mentor out the door. 

-/-/-

The next night, they’re curled up on the couch together with May’s head on Chris’s chest and legs intertwined. The news plays softly in the background but May isn’t really paying attention. 

"So when were you gonna tell me that you’re BFFs with a billionaire? With Iron Man himself?” Chris asks, running his fingers through her hair. There isn’t anything accusatory in his tone and May cuddles closer to him. 

“We’re not BFFs. He mentors Peter sometimes with… science stuff. It all goes over my head. Peter asked me not to mention it. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself." 

"And Iron Man just whisked Peter off to. . ?” he lets his question trail off. 

“Some nerdy science conference in Italy.”

“Damn, that’s-” he pauses, looking at the TV and pointing. On the screen, there’s a breaking news alert about The Avengers fighting another alien army, because apparently normal villains went out of style in 2012.  “Wait, that Italy?" 

She sees Peter, Spider-Man, next to The Hulk, Iron Man flying above as they fight off their oppressors. Everyone’s there - Cap and Widow and Iron Patriot and Hawkeye, but they are pulled away to another part of the fight. They’ve been fighting for at least half an hour when she watches as Spider-Man is thrown into a building. The bricks break with the impact and it begins to cave and she swears she stops breathing for a moment. It’s another five minutes before she sees him again, red and blue swinging around and webbing up the aliens. Iron Man fires his repulsors at the last big baddie and Hulk smashes their foe’s head half a dozen times. 

"Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s fine,” Chris offers, his voice low and serious. “He’s at a conference, not fighting these monsters." 

"Yeah.” It’s barely above a whisper and she takes out her phone when she gets a message from Peter. 

Don’t worry. I’m okay. It’s gonna take more than that to take me out. Tony is going all “dad mode” on me. It’s embarrassing. 

May looks up to the TV to see Iron Man cradling an injured Spidey and flying them to their jet. She smiles and types out a response. 

I can see that. You did great, Pete. Take an ice bath or something, that looked like it hurt. Love you.

“He’s fine,” she says, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. 

“Told you,” Chris quips, leaning in to kiss her. It’s soft and it calms her nerves in a way she can’t explain. “So, you know Iron Man, but who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“I’m partial to Spider-Man. He is Queens’ local vigilante after-all." 

"May Parker, a Spider-Man fan,” he teases. She throws a pillow at him. 

-/-/-

“Shouldn’t Peter be home by now?” Chris asks one night. May glances at the time on her phone. It reads 12:33 a.m. 

“He has until 1 a.m.”

“Isn’t that kinda late? I mean he’s only sixteen - he could get seriously hurt out there. Or partying and drinking his weight in-”

“He’s fine, Chris. Peter’s a good kid. I trust him.” She looks towards his bedroom door. It’s shut so he can just silently swing in. The crime has been quieter lately - thank god. No alien attacks or evil mutant who has it out for her kid. “His curfew goes back to 11:30 once school starts up." 

Chris looks skeptical, but he’s not about to tell her how to raise her nephew. "Whatever you say.”

-/-/-

Peter’s body aches, muscles throbbing with the all-enveloping pain of post battle. Blood trickles down from around his left eye, which is now swollen shut. He cries, a short high pitched wince as he comes back into consciousness, his body pressing against a pile of rubble. 

A sharp pain erupts at his most definitely broken ribs and he bites down another cry. He could hear someone calling his name in the distance, their voice muffled as if they were screaming underwater. 

“Peter! Spider-Man!" 

Peter groans, opening his eye as he tries to recall where he is but there’s a glint of red and gold blocking his sight. 

"T'ny?”

“Yeah, bud. You blacked out there for a few minutes and I thought I’d come get you.”

“I’m o-” His word is caught on a hiss of pain as Tony lifts him into his arms and Peter curls into himself. “Shit.”

“Maybe don’t become a ragdoll for steampunk Ursula next time, okay?”

“Wha?”

“Otto Octavious - madman with mechanical arms. I’ll explain it to you when you’re more coherent. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

Peter wakes later in the dim light of the medbay. Mr. Stark sits in a recliner next to him, checking and promptly ignoring his emails. Peter’s head throbs, his left eye still swollen shut, his body aching, but it’s duller than before, the pull of drugs making his mind fuzzy. He’s been stripped of his suit and looks down to find he’s wearing an old MIT hoodie of Tony’s and…his Hello Kitty pajama pants, great. 

“Four broken ribs, a concussion, a skull fracture, and of course there’s that eye - I’ll get you an eye patch and you can cosplay as Nick Fury.” Tony remarks, looking to the kid. 

“Better that than these pajamas. Really, Mr. Stark?”

“Punishment for scaring the shit out of me,” he says with a smirk, but the rest of his face betrays his cool demeanor. There’s worry lines etched into his expression that furrow his brow and dark bags under his eyes. His hair is disheveled and Peter has the urge to reach out and fix it, but decides that would be weird. It’s strange to see his mentor like this, so unguarded and worried, and not TV ready. Tony isn’t even trying to hide it, which seems to be the worst part for Peter.  He hates that he caused this.

“I’m sorry. Thanks, for - for saving me.” Peter says with a sheepish smile. 

“Don’t mention it,” Tony says, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. Peter leans into the touch. “Actually do. Please mention it to your lovely Aunt. She gets off at two tonight so I’m gonna drive you back. Don’t worry, I’m sending some Captain America level narcotics with you for all that,” his hand makes a circle in the air, gesturing to Peter’s everything. 

Peter gets home at 1:45, the hood of Tony’s sweatshirt pulled over his head in a sad attempt to hide his eye and some dry blood caked into his hairline. The smell of homemade pizza overwhelms his senses before he even walks in the apartment. It’s odd, May rarely cooks especially in the middle of the night. 

“Hey hon,” Chris calls as Peter walks through the door. He’s standing in the kitchen, looking in the oven. “I thought I’d make you some dinner befo- oh my god Peter!”

Peter freezes, trying to stifle the panic that’s bubbling in his chest. Chris is already by his side less than a second later, hesitantly pushing the hood off Peter’s head and examining his eye with a concerned what the hell happened? 

“Uhh…I was jumped? Yeah. Jumped. I was jumped.” 

Chris considers him for a minute, soft gaze searching Peter’s in a way that makes him uncomfortable, like he’s learning something new. “C’mere,” Chris’s says, voice low and laced with so much concern that Peter doesn’t even protest as he follows him to the couch. 

“I already went to the doctor. Mr. Stark took me. Really Chris, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

��Even if you already went, I’m worried and I’m a doctor, and I’d feel a lot better if you let me look. Please, Peter.” 

The way he says Peter, it’s not unlike how Tony says his name sometimes, like a whispered prayer for him to be okay, and it breaks his resolve. Slowly, Peter lifts the hoodie over his head and tosses it to the floor. Chris gasps and it’s full of surprise and fear and all the emotions Peter wanted to avoid for at least a week, and Peter chances a look down. His torso is littered in bruises of varying shades and there’s a cut along his stomach. He can feel the medicine Dr. Cho gave him wearing off and it hurts. 

“Pete,” the older man whispers, hands held in suspension above Peter’s ribs, like he wants to touch them but he’s terrified of causing anymore pain. “Your ribs…You-”

“They’ll be fine in a few days. I have a concussion too, so can I just,” Peter sighs, resting his head against the back of the couch. It’s soft and comforting and he’s just so ready for this day to be over. “Go to bed, please?”

The door opens in that moment and May walks in. She’s wearing blue scrubs and her hair is tied in a loose ponytail. Immediately she locks eyes with Peter, and her face crumbles as she rushes over.  “Peter, baby! I- Tony said you were in a fight, but this…”

“I’m fine, May. Really. It really wasn’t a big deal. It’s not even worth worrying over.”

May shoos Chris to the side and sits down in between them. Her eyes run over Peter in a professional way, ending on his swollen eye. One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, “Okay, first off you cannot possibly say it’s not a big deal when you look like this. What did Dr. Cho say?” Her thumb brushes over his temple and a scowl replaces her worried look. As if wanting to prove her point, a gut-clenching pain shoots through him and he pulls his knees to his chest, sucking in air when his ribs protest painfully.

“A couple of broken ribs, skull fracture…” Peter whispers, wishing his metabolism didn’t work its way through all the painkillers in five minutes. 

“And a concussion,” Chris reminds, his hand resting on May’s knee.

They look like a team, Peter thinks, and May’s presence had calmed Chris’s erratic heartbeat the moment she came home. The idea elicits pangs of guilt on top of everything - guilt at the lies he and May have concocted to keep his identity of Spider-Man safe. He wonders how hard it’s been on May and Chris’s relationship, how many white lies she’s had to tell, but he pushes the thought down and focuses on the throbbing in his head instead. At least that can be dealt with, he thinks, and asks May to get his medicine from his backpack. She hands it to him with a sad gleam in her eyes. It makes him want to crawl under the nearest blanket and hide from their sympathetic glances. 

“Really May, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Just everyday stuff,” Peter tries to reassure her. 

“Peter, you were jumped,” Chris says, his tone serious. “That’s not an everyday thing, or at least I hope not. It’s a big deal and it’s scary. Your ribs are broken for god’s sake. Your eye is swollen shut. I just-” Chris pauses, looking down at the cut along Peter’s ribs. May’s brows furrow in confusion at the mention of Peter being jumped, but she quickly schools her expression. 

May sighs. “We’ll let you get some rest, okay superhero?” She offers her hand to help Peter get up. He takes it and stands. “Call if you need anything. We’ll be right here.”

“Thanks May. Thank you, Chris.”

He’s asleep not even ten minutes later, lulled by the concerned whispers of May and Chris from two rooms over. When he wakes the next morning, his body is sore, but his eye is almost back to normal. 

-/-/-

Five months have passed when May wakes to the shrill of “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath playing from her phone at 3 a.m. Peter had thought it’d be funny to set it as her ringtone for when Tony called and she never got around to changing it back. Her bedroom is coated in darkness, save for the light from her phone and she squints at it. Chris is wrapped around her like a koala, arm slung over her stomach and lips pressed to the back of her shoulder. 

“ ‘Ello,” she yawns as she answers, her eyelids drooping and the remnants of sleep threatening to pull her back in.

“May,” Tony’s says, his voice serious and raw with emotion that she’s never heard from the billionaire and it scares her, wiping away all the tiredness and replacing it with fear. May shoots out of bed, trying to keep her breath even but it fails. “Peter’s alive, first off, so don’t worry about that. He’s okay, kind of, well, he will be. He’s - he was shot earlier on patrol - twice. The damn kid. And Happy is on his way to get you, he should be there in ten minutes, so-”

“Peter was shot?” she whisper-screams, the words knocking the air from her lungs. And she can’t help it, the way her mind immediately goes to Ben on that fateful night, Peter at the police station covered in her late husband’s blood, silent sobs racking his body. The edges of a panic attack seeps in at the memory and her heart is going to beat out of her chest and she can’t breathe, she can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t-

She hears someone call her name, but she isn’t sure where she is anymore, and her mind takes her back to that first night without him, an inconsolable Peter wrapped around her muttering apologies between broken sobs. Peter didn’t go to sleep until noon the next day. She’s at Ben’s funeral, and there’s flowers everywhere - bright and vibrant and sickening wisps of color among black suits and dresses and her husband’s cold body. Everyone comes up and shakes her hand, offering words of comfort and food, but she doesn’t want any of it. Peter’s at her side and she squeezes his hand, tries to reassure him (and herself) that it’ll be okay. Peter nods, his eyes red and his motions slow and robotic and Peter-

Peter. This is about Peter. Peter’s been shot. 

Her world comes back into focus and she sees Chris kneeling in front of her, sleep mussed hair and wide green eyes full of concern. His thumb wipes at a tear on the apple of her cheek and she presses the phone to her ear. Tony is still talking, telling her to breathe and that Peter’s okay and Happy’s almost there.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out a sob. “Tony, I…”

 “It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. He has to be okay,” he pauses. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

She leans her head on Chris and her eyes flutter closed. He wraps his arms around her and it’s grounding. Peter’s alive. Peter isn’t Ben. Peter’s alive. She repeats it over and over, a silent mantra and she realizes both Chris and Tony are waiting for a response. “I…” she speaks into her phone. “Chris is here. I- I’m okay,” May hangs up and turns her attention to Chris. 

“Peter was shot. He - I have to go. I - Happy, he’s outside I gotta-”

“Let me go with you,” Chris says. And god, she wants him too. She wants to curl into his side in the car and tell him everything, but she knows she can’t do that to Peter. Not right now. He asked her to keep his identity safe, to keep Chris safe, and that’s the least she can do when her nephew is out saving the world every night. 

“I need you to stay at the apartment, please I- I know you want to come, but I need you here. I’ll be back in a few days. I just - I’m sorry, I need to go.” She kisses him, soft and quick and rushes out the door before he can protest.  

-/-/-

Unable to process the night’s frightening turn of events, Chris is left standing at the doorway. He had called multiple hospitals looking for Peter, but none of them seemed to have anyone that matched his description. It wasn’t until May called the next morning saying that Peter was okay and recovering at the Avengers Compound, that he figured out why. 

Why is he at The Avengers Compound, May? That’s insane he had said, but she acted as if it was normal, saying that Tony preferred treating him there. When he asked about what happened, she said it was an unfortunate wrong place, wrong time, but that it didn’t matter now because he was okay. 

Now, five days later, Peter and May were coming home. He waits inside the apartment for them, pacing the living room as he cleans the countertops for the seventh time in the few days they’ve been gone. He can hear laughter down the hall and it takes him a moment to realize it’s them. Peter is rambling excitedly about something - he can’t tell what - and he stops as the door opens.  What he doesn’t expect is to see Tony Stark behind her, his arm around Peter’s shoulder, beaming at a perfectly healthy, energetic kid. It throws him for a loop how domestic they look. 

Like a family. 

And that’s when it hits him. The internship, the nights at the Compound, the easy banter, Stark taking care of him after he’s injured. Chris pauses his inner monologue, sweeping the group from head to toe with his gaze. “Wait…Is Peter Tony’s secret son or something?”

Fin 

[forever-more-never-again]

Hands (A Natasha Request)

Word Count: 4321

Requested: Anonymous

Pairing: Platonic!Tony X Reader, Natasha X Reader

Warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK, VIOLENCE, ABUSE, PAIN, BRUISES, TALK OF PAST ABUSE, LANGUAGE, SELF-ESTEEM ISSUES PLEASE TAKE THE WARNINGS SERIOUSLY AS THIS IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC AND IT DOES GET A BIT DESCRIPTIVE 

Request: Hi, could you please write Natasha x reader or Maggie Sawyer x reader, where reader has been in abusive relationship but hasn't told anyone. Now she's happily with Maggie/Nat, but after she sees her ex again all the bad memories come back. When she gets in argument with Maggie/Nat she flinches or covers her face when they make a gesture and Maggie/Nat is worried and confused why she is scared of them, she then tells about her abusive ex. It's kinda deep so it's fine if you don't want to write it.

Masterlist

A/n: If you are in any trouble, please get help. Know that there are people who care and are willing to help you. So reach out...

Your laughter bubbled over and your hands clutched your stomach. “Nat!” Your voice came out in gasps as you watched your girlfriend strut around in Steve’s uniform.

“It’s time for some star spangled banners and all that is patriotic to rise up!” She puffed her chest and adopted a stern, gruff voice.

“Natasha! Stop, I’m gonna cry!” You gasped, wiping the tears of mirth that threatened to fall down your face.

“What is this?” You and Natasha both froze and slowly turned to the common area doorway where a very confused Steve stood with Tony.

“Run!” Natasha shouted in the sudden silence and jumped towards you grabbing your arm.

“[Y/n]! Natasha! Get back here!” Steve yelled out, his inner Captain America surfacing as he realized what the two of you had been doing.

“Sorry!” You yelled back as you ran with Natasha down the stairs to her room.

Once safely in Natasha’s room, you both let out sighs of relief.

Sharing a look, you both busted out into laughter once more.

Natasha wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in to her. Her green eyes dazzled as she looked down at you.

Heat rose to your face when you realized she was still wearing Steve’s uniform. Natasha in the stealth suit...was something else.

You wet your lips with your tongue, the movement catching the sharp gaze of the assassin.

“Like what you see?” Her voice dropped to the sultry tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Always.” Was your immediate response.

“[Y/n]...I love you so much.” She dipped her head to your neck, her lips finding the vein there.

You threw your head back with a gasp and a moan, hands tangling in her red hair and tugging, distracting her from your lack of response.

The next morning, you stretched and rose from the comfort of Natasha’s bed.

“Ngh...it’s too early...stay..” Natasha’s whine was accompanied by her arms reaching out and her hands making grabby motions towards you.

Giggling softly, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I’m going to return Steve’s suit to him and then I have that tour with Tony, remember?” You reminded your girlfriend.

A gentle sigh and then her eyelids rose slowly and roamed the length of your naked body.

“Hmm...admiring your work?” You smirked as you bent over to pick up a shirt, watching the way Natasha swallowed hard and her eyes darkened.

“I always mark what’s mine.” She said offhandedly, while admiring the various bruises and scratches that covered your body.

Eventually you recovered all your clothes and bundled the stealth suit up in your arms, “Remember Nat! You promised Clint you would train with him this afternoon!” You called back to the bedroom.

The groan that Natasha released followed your laughter to the hallway as you headed back to the common area.

It was fairly early in the morning as you entered the kitchen after dropping the stealth suit on a couch.

“Hey Bruce.” You waved to the scientist who looked a breath away from falling over.

He waved, or rather, attempted to, before giving up and just chugging the cup of coffee he held in his hand.

“Rise and Shine you beautiful Bastard!”

You turned with a wide smile, “Morning Tony. Mind your mouth when we give the tour today.”

Tony merely raised an eyebrow and patted Bruce on the back, nearly making him stumble and fall.

“[Y/n]...I had the idea that you could show off your mutation after we show off the lab.” Tony grabbed a granola bar from the cabinets, throwing one towards you.

Catching it, you grimaced and set it back on the counter, “ You know I don’t like showing it off to people.” You pulled on the sleeves of your shirt, trying to hide your discomfort.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you, but you avoided his gaze.

Tony shrugged, “Was worth a shot. Not everyone knows that your mutation is even a reality, so it’s pretty awesome to blow their minds.”

Now it was you who shrugged. You didn’t really like thinking of your mutation outside of the missions.

“Alright. Let’s get this going.” Tony cracked his neck, the sound making Bruce flinch. Earning Tony a glare that he laughed off.

Following him down to the public area of the tower, you put on the professional business outfit that Tony had picked out for you.

And then with a sigh, you followed the billionaire to the conference room where the people who had paid to get a tour of the Avenger’s tower were waiting.

You honestly didn’t understand why they had agreed to let civilians and strangers into the base, but Tony and Steve agreed that it would bolster trust within the community and it also raised funds.

“Alright Crew! I’m Tony Stark and with me today is [Y/n] [y/l/n]. We’re all about safety and fun here, so please stay with us at all time as we go through this tour. Remember...you’re in the center of the Avenger compound...surrounded by gods, heroes, and super soldiers.” The sly threat filled the quiet area.

You rose your gaze to take in the small crowd of people, skimming over woman and children..until you saw them.

You immediately took a reflexive step backwards, but you had been standing too close to the wall so you smacked into it, drawing the attention you had been wanting to avoid.

You recognized the look on their face when they saw you.

Tony, not noticing the attention on you, turned to you with concern, “[Y/n]?” He asked softly.

Tearing your eyes off of the person you had hoped to never see again, you managed to stutter out a sentence to Tony. “I-I have to-Have to help Bruce set up!” And with that, you ran out of the room.

Your legs were jelly and breathing became a terrible task. You dimly realized you were experiencing a panic attack, but you only had one main thought. To get away.

Stumbling past concerned secretaries and businessmen, you found the elevator and punched the number for the garage. Your sanctuary.

The cold concrete greeted you when you stumbled out of the elevator, sliding down to sit against the gray walls.

Your legs drawn up to your chest, you put your head between them, finally focusing on getting your breathing under control again.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. That was the past. They can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

You muttered the words that years of therapy had drilled into you.

“Didn’t realize my presence would cause such a stir. You’re little boyfriend is trying not to show how concerned he is about you taking off like that, [Y/n].”

The voice was like oil, smothering the air that you drew into your lungs.

You quickly stood back up, not wanting them to see you in a weakened state.

“How did you get down here? What do you want?” You tried to make your voice sound tough, but it came out weak and scared.

The person in front of you crossed their arms, the smile on their face one of fake innocence. “You would think security would be a little tighter in the Avengers tower, but hey. Can’t I just see how my Ex is doing?”

A big breath of air, “No. Now leave. You’re not welcome here.” You made to walk past him, just repeating in your head that you had to just reach the elevator and you would be okay.

A grip of steel grabbed your arm above the elbow, halting your retreat. All pretense of pleasantry was gone from the voice that grazed your ear, “Don’t walk away from me, [Y/n]. I own you. You were nothing before me.”

The grip tightened to the point of being really painful. You bit back the whimper, knowing they were waiting for it. You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Let me go.” For the first time, you actually wished Tony had installed cameras or even FRIDAY in the garage. But the fact that there were none was what initially made this place desirable towards you.

The grip only tightened. You knew you would have a bruise when this was over. One more memory you would rather forget.

“I thought I trained you better than this. You insolent little bitch. You freak.”

You would not meet their eyes. Their stare two burning holes of hate on the back of your head.

“You never ‘trained’ me. You abused me. And It took a long time for me to realize that. I’m happy now. You have no power over me.” Of course, you were bluffing through your teeth. You were practically petrified with terror at the thought of what they could do to you down here where no one could see.

You peaked towards the elevator, heart screaming out for help.

You were forcefully tugged backwards and flung to the ground. You couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as you landed on your arm weird and your leg became twisted.

The grimace and sneer of malice that stood over you was one that haunted your nightmares.

“I OWN YOU! NOBODY WANTED YOU EXCEPT ME YOU FREAK! YOU CAN'T EVEN USE YOUR POWERS YOU’RE SO FUCKING WEAK!”

The scream echoed through the garage, actually setting off the car alarm of one of the secretaries vans.

You hands scrambled for purchase on the smooth concrete as you crawled backwards, away from the advancing person with hate in their eyes.

You had the perfect vantage point to see the hand as it swung down and heard the impact as it connected to your cheek.

The force caused your neck to snap to the side, your head suddenly on fire from the onslaught of pain and the ringing in your ear.

“Stop..” A whispered plea. Your mutation sang in your blood, a reminder that you could use it to get free. But you shoved it back.

“Whore!” This time it was a kick delivered to your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.

You fell sideways as you gasped, your vision tunneling, trying to focus on the cars alongside you.

“You think you can leave me? Me? You think that just because you whored your way into the Avengers, that you actually belong with them? You don’t belong anywhere. So why don’t you just admit that?”

You shook your head, frantically denying the words they were saying.

“No! No! That’s not true!” Tears ran freely down your face. You looked up and finally caught their gaze, you pleaded through your eyes, and with your words, “What happened to you? I once worshipped you, I thought the world of you..I LOVED YOU!” You shrieked out, narrowly avoiding another kick aimed at your legs. “I thought we were happy...for two years...I thought you loved me to. But then the nights of you stumbling home drunk became more common, the broken beer bottles, the slaps and screams and the trips to the hospital. You’re a monster!”

They merely laughed. Standing over you, they crouched, resting their arms casually on their bent knees, “You are so stupid. You honestly believe anyone could love you? You? You’re a freak. A whore. A whiny, no good bitch whose place is a bed to be fucked on and a cage to sleep in.”

“[Y/n]?”

Another voice broke the tension. You went limp in relief. You were saved from this living nightmare.

“[Y/n], where are you? FRIDAY said she saw you head down to the garage roughly an hour ago.”

Your eyes went wide, it had already been an hour?

You winced and yelped in pain as your were suddenly dragged up by the roots of your hair. “Now, be a good little freak and stay quiet.” A menacing whisper.

“Tony!” You shouted, ignoring the threat. The promise of safety too high to ignore.

“[Y/n]!?”

“Shit.” You were dropped back to the ground.

Groaning as you landed on your bruised arm and stomach.

“Stop!” Tony’s voice became hardened and furious as he rounded the corner and saw them running away from your prone form.

Tony made as if to run after them, but you held up a hand, “No...Tony.” Torn, you could see him look between you and the receding figure.

Finally he sighed and lowered himself next to you, slowly bring and arm around to help you sit up.

“Damn. You okay kid?” He ran a hand over you, checking for major injuries, “Who was that? What happened?”

You waved him off, grimacing in pain as you slowly stood up. Stumbling a little, saved from falling to the hard ground by a hand from Tony.

“It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t handled before.” You brushed him off, hobbling to the elevator. Turning back to look at the confused, concerned man, you hook a thumb, “You coming?”

Once in the elevator, you sagged against a wall.

Tony’s voice was soft, as if you were a skittish colt, “What happened down there, [Y/n]? You ran out of the conference room in a panic before the tour even started and then I find someone standing over you in the garage. You have torn clothes and your face looks like someone took a meat tenderizer to it.”

You caught sight of your reflection in the gilded walls of the elevator. Gingerly, you reached up and touched the nasty black and purple bruise covering the side of your face.

Knowing you wouldn’t get out of explaining, you smiled sadly at Tony, “I guess it’s time to come clean. But..I’d rather only tell the story once..so let’s gather everyone this evening in the common room… And I’ll explain.”

Tony nodded. But still drug you to the medical room to have Dr. Cho look you over.

She put a compression wrap on your arm and gave you some painkillers and instructions for the bruise on your face and abdomen.

For the rest of the day, you avoided everyone. Even Natasha. Which hurt. But she was the one you were most terrified to see.

Would she still want to be with you once she found out how weak you truly were? She was so strong and beautiful and amazing, you always asked why she had chosen you...and now you might lose her.

Eventually the evening came and you couldn’t hide anymore. Especially since Tony used FRIDAY to find you and make sure you came to the common room.

“Why did you call us all here Tony? Did something go wrong during the tour today?” “Does this have to do with my stealth suit? Because it was in some...Let’s just say I took it to the cleaners when I found it on the couch this morning.”

“Are you going to explain where [Y/n] has been all day? They’ve been ignoring all my messages and even FRIDAY wouldn’t tell me where they were.”

“They’re okay, Natasha. Calm down….Please put your knife away!”

The startled tone of Tony had you break into a little giggle, causing silence to descend in the common room.

Silently willing strength, you walked out from where you had been standing hidden into the light.

Gasps were the first sound to break the silence. You kept your gaze on the ground.

“[Y/n]...” Your name, a soft broken sound from the voice of Natasha.

You brought your head up, and caught sight of an arm coming towards you, and without thinking it through, you shrieked and dropped, covering your face with your arms. “No!” Passed through your lips without your consent.

Your whole body shook as the adrenaline worked its way through your bloodstream.

Taking deep breaths, you registered the silence had returned to the room. The room. That’s right. You weren’t in the garage with them anymore.

Embarrassment and shame filled you as you slowly stood up, putting down your defenses. “I’m sorr-”

“No. Don’t apologize.” Natasha’s harsh words cut through the air. It was her arm that stood frozen in front of you. And you realized that she had been meaning to touch the bruise on your face.

“What?” You had to cough and clear your throat to get the one word out. Shock evident. Your eyes flitted over the rest of the team, expecting them to be disgusted or pitying. But instead, you saw concern and empathy.

“[Y/n]...why don’t you tell us what happened.” Steve...keeping a level head like always.

You shot him a grateful smile as you stepped around Natasha and settled in on the couch.

The team shuffled and settled around you, their attention like needles on your skin. You tugged on your sleeves. One hand reaching up to trace the bruise, invoking a dull pain.

“So, most of you know that I came to join the Avengers when Tony heard about my mutation from his friend Charles Xavier...I was living under a bridge in Nevada at the time. Tony respected my privacy and didn’t pry into my personal life. And I’m forever grateful for that.”

You shot a look at the man in question. He nodded his head towards you. You smiled.

“You also know that I don’t like using my mutation and I try to not to be associated with it. It’s a different person. It’s not who I want to be. So I don’t acknowledge it as much as I can.”

A hand gripped yours, stopping the pressure you had been applying to your bruise.

Bringing your hand down to her lips, Natasha kissed the back of your hand, her gaze unwavering as she held your eyes.

“My life before the Avengers...was not happy.” You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I doubt most people with powers or mutations have happy stories.”

Drawing in a breath, you gained Courage from the looks and energy around you, “My parents died when I was young, and I was easily persuaded due to not understanding what was happening to me while my mutation was growing. So when someone found me and began showing concern and care for me...I fell head over heels.”

A sucked in breath. A wordless slap of warning. You heard it, but didn’t see the actions around you as you were drawn into the past.

“They gave me a home and promised to look out for me. They swore they loved me. That I was special. Not a freak. Not something to be feared. They promised a normal life...a family...And after two years together, I believed them.”

The hand gripping yours tightened but then released the grip. You looked over at Natasha, needing her to understand, more than anyone. Your words growing desperate as you continued your story.

“I thought they loved me. I thought I was worth love. But then they started getting drunk. The bruises became harder to cover up and harder to rationalize that they were only minor incidents. They grew rough with me, forcing me...forcing me….I thought they loved me and I was in a relationship with them, so it wasn’t bad...I know better now.”

The silence in the room was deafening, but you couldn’t stop now.

“The nurses at the local hospital knew me by name after a couple months. And then, one day...Someone finally looked at me. Really looked and they asked if I wanted their help. I broke down… I was taken in by a group and got therapy and a restraining order. But I was too messed up at that point. I had to be locked in my room at night so that I wouldn’t try to run and beg for their forgiveness and to be taken back. Even though I knew it was wrong! It was like my brain and heart and time were all fighting and I was a mess because of it for a long time. Eventually I decided what I needed was space. But I never learned how to survive in the real world. They never let me handle money, or go shopping, or socialize, so I had no skills.”

Tears flowed down your face, blurring your vision. Several soft sniffles and hiccups could be heard as your team cried with you.

“That’s how Tony found me. Then today...Today I walked into the conference room to lead the tour and I saw someone I thought I would never see again. And...I panicked. I ran. And they followed.”

Talking became hard as you struggled to get words out past the lump growing in your throat.

“They brought back all the old memories, all the old hurt. And they gave me a reminder of my time with them.” You gestured to the bruise.

“And they brought up all my insecurities. That I’m not worth loving. That I’m just a freak. A charity case. And even though it’s not true...that the only reason you guys care for me is because I spread my legs for you.”

Anger. Simmering.

“What!?” And exploding.

You flinched at the loud interruption.

“Sorry, [Y/n]..just...How could!? Tell me we have him locked up...Tony?”

Natasha turned to Tony, rage flaring up, her hair almost alive like fire as it surrounded her face.

Tony looked solomon as he shook his head, “They ran off and [Y/n] was too hurt to leave alone. I had to choose. And [Y/n] came first.”

Natasha turned back to you, the rage dying as she took in your tear stained face. Her hands were slow in she kept them in your view at all times as she brought them up and cupped your face with them, “None of that is true, [Y/n]. You’re not weak. And you are worth loving. We all love you. We’re your family.”

A chorus of agreements followed.

You looked out over the faces that you had come to know and love over the past few years. A strange hope growing in your chest.

“Truly?” You didn’t have it in you if they denied it. If they turned out to be just as cruel as them.

Nods and tears and snot all came crashing together as they jumped on you in a group hug.

“We love you [Y/n].”

“They’ll pay for what they did.”

“You’re family.”

“You may be a pain in my ass at times, but I love you kiddo.”

The grin you wore was threatening to crack your face as you leaned back to take in the faces of everyone.

“Thanks guys...I love you too.”

Laughter followed but then a hand found yours and tugged you out of the group.

You found yourself lost in a word of green.

“[Y/n]. You’ve felt so much pain at the expense of hands. And I can’t erase that, or make it better, but I can assure you...hands do much more than cause pain. They can hold you tight for comfort. They can touch your cheek in a caress. They can touch your body in worship. Hands can do so much more than hold each other. And I hope...one day, you will accept my hands again.”

Natasha was shaking as she tried to keep herself composed. But once you reached up and cupped her cheek, she broke.

Sweeping down, she captured your lips with hers and stole the breath from your lungs.

The heat and intensity unlike anything else.

Her hands were frantic as they curled against your back, as if ensuring that you were real. That you were there.

You lips broke with a gasp, allowing her tongue entrance. The familiar scent of Vanilla cherry overpowering your senses, drowning you in it.

“Guys! Get a room!”

Jumping apart at the loud voice. You and Natasha stared at one another, breathless, wide eyed, before dissolving into giggles.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, Natasha flipped off the accompanying laughter from everyone behind you as you walked down to her room.

Once the door shut behind her, she grabbed your hand and placed it on her heart.

“[Y/n]..I want you to know that I will spend the rest of my life proving that you are worth all the love the world has to offer and that my heart belongs to you. I will devote myself to proving that life is worthing living and that you matter. I will slay anyone who denies it and I will track down and gut the person who-”

You placed your hand over her lips, cutting off her monologue. A smile played with the corners of your own lips as you looked at the woman before you.

“You really mean that..Don’t you?” It was meant to be answered, it was more of a inner wonder spoken aloud.

But Natasha slowly removed the hand placed over her mouth and gazed down at you, “Every word. You are you, [Y/n]. Perfectly imperfect. And I love every bit of it. Every fight. Every laugh. Every annoying prank. I love you.”

You sagged against her chest, wrapping your arms around her, breathing in her scent, cementing yourself into reality. That this was real. That this was actually happening. She wasn’t disgusted. She wasn’t pitying. She wasn’t shoving you out without a goodbye.

She was...here.

“I love you too, Natasha.”

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey  @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @mcuimxgine @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger

Natasha Taglist:

@ludwigvonbaethoven @hanjiscience-slut @kitten-q-p @morbid-gaymer @honeybadgerwhodoesntcare @sunnyandtwisty @zoeyknight @kurlyafro @thewomanofwonder @5aftermidnight @myfemininelesboworld @rizamendoza808

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 19: Seto and Mokuba are Turned Into Inanimate Objects...Again

Last we left off on the world’s most awkward family reunion, Moki was being used to take advantage of Seto again, which happens at least 2 times a season.

What’s kind of wild about this, is that everyone jumps to the conclusion that Seto is absolutely going to murder his little brother. Seto. The guy who 2 seasons ago was willing to absolutely jump off a ledge for his little brother.

And then suddenly, Duke makes his feelings known about just life in general at this point.

Duke in the background just spiraling deeper and deeper into his IDGAF apathy. And to be honest, Duke might not be fully aware of who Mokuba even is. It’s not like they’ve ever had a conversation, other than maybe “ah, you work for Pegasus, he locked me in a tower for weeks and then killed me by turning me into a little paper card and then tried to seize control of my company. Nice. Nice that he isn’t in jail.”

In fact, since Duke does work with Pegasus who probably is still doing his best to compete with/work with the Kaiba business...Duke actually has a lot to gain, business wise, by killing Mokuba. Like, I’m pretty sure Duke isn’t a mole but he could be. He has...a lot of motive, actually.

If bro hadn’t straight up told me that Duke isn’t a mole like I suspected, than I’d still be waiting for that other shoe to drop. But it won’t. A shame.

Anyways this shows up:

All I’m saying is that a black hole is an astronomical region in space and a dark hole is very often a butthole, but youknow...maybe that’s just a very particular English language thing that no one will ever teach you from a textbook and it just didn’t quite get translated over correctly. But yeah, in my eye, Noah's just up there holding up a sphincter. It’s very fitting, he is an asshole. Congrats, Noah Kaiba, you’ve found your card.

Meanwhile, Yugi is doing his very best to try and backseat, even if Kaiba instinctively slaps it out of his hands at every opportunity.

So I figured that he’d mention that both of these boys carry these card lockets around their necks with a little picture of the other brother inside--a little thing they carry for no other reason than to remember eachother. Which makes sense, because Kaiba forgets things SO OFTEN. The necklace around their necks is almost like those bracelets you wear to let police and medics know if you’re prone to narcolepsy--it even has a nice picture inside to indicate “please return this boy to this pictured person in case you find him wandering about completely lost.”

I kinda figured that necklace would be used at some point but nah, we’re gonna talk about cards. Which is fine, because we get to see this good drawing Mokuba made once.

Which, PS, it was sort of hard to pick up on the first time Kaiba talked about this period of his life, but this time when he talked about this incident it like...left quite a bit highly implied there by what Seto meant when he said Mokuba “saved me.” It’s some pretty heavy stuff that kind of gets blown over by the massive magic dragon that shows up in the next scene and then just flies Mokuba, who is wearing very cute fuzzy socks, up into the sky and into the moon like ET.

Nowadays they do this by hanging off of Helicopters, but flying on dangerous things to escape their horrible childhood has been their Fantasy for a very long time. These kids and their obsession with heights and dangerous ledges.

And apparently it was this moment in his youth that Seto decided he wanted to be “worthy enough to hold a Blue Eyes.” And like...I remember S1 Seto. That was the worthy Seto?

I guess “worthy enough” doesn’t really imply any sort of moral code, just if you have enough money and can like play cards pretty OK.

Anyways, it was a lot of new stuff applied to this card that I just only recently accepted as a GF and so it was like “All right show, I see what you’re doing, I guess we’re going to walk slowly out of the paper romance realm and into...some sort of card-honor brother realm.”

So, using the Blue Eyes, Kaiba destroys a bunch of Gradius ships, which Noah was like “These Gradius ships represent our Father’s company!” in case you’re a child and didn’t see the symbolism. And, along the way, he destroys what he thinks is Noah’s Game Master card but like...it’s this show, so apparently inside the Boat was another dude and the game is going to keep on going, fml.

Ah buckle up this...this is going to be a long one. This is going to be a lot more cards, huh?

Anyway, when I saw this card that is clearly based on a couple of Gods I was like “so um...isn’t that a...God card?” so I looked it up, also because it was BS and I was frustrated that it was even here after the boat thing ended, and this card is a...get this...a Fairy card.

Cuz it has wings? Like a Seraphim? Everything about this looks like a conglomeration of different Gods but--I guess since God Cards can only have the 4 God Cards, this is a...Fairy card. Interesting. That is a huge ass Fairy. Yugioh biology really eludes me.

Anyway, First thing Noah does as a fairy is destroy his younger brother who is also older than him, don’tthinkaboutit. He’s again sporting the poorly photoshopped glowing romper that the dub gave us in order to spare us.

Hey!

Question!

So when Noah’s wearing the game Master outfit, he’s ass naked underneath--but the Big 5 weren’t? Like wouldn’t the Big 5 have had the same issue of Noah here where they have no body, so whatever they’re wearing is just whatever they’re in?

Meaning that when they were all shoved in Tristan’s body wouldn’t they have just been 5 naked fat old guys hanging out like a European sauna? 

Or is this just Noah’s preference? To be ass naked when no one’s looking? Because he’s been here all alone for 6 years, so why the hell not? Like, no one cares. No one’s looking. You can’t get splinters or whatever. Just let it all hang loose, man, it’s not even a real body. 

Like, if you look closely, Noah only has ... one outfit he’s had here for 6 years. I’ve noticed this maybe more than most because...it’s not a great outfit. He had that same suit and shorts combo right after he woke up and got out of his jammies from the accident all those years ago. He also wore a space suit once, but that was a Birthday present from Dad and I haven't seen the suit since.

Did Noah recognize that People Are Coming and was like “oh dammit, dammit, I have to cover the goods” and just throw on literally the only thing in his closet? The office shorts combo from 6 years ago? Is that why? Is that the big secret of the baby boy suit shorts? That he, in reality, never really wears them?

Questions about nudity aside, out of freakin no where Noah just turns the Kaibas into this:

Noah spent like 20 episodes saying no one is ever allowed to cheat and then just flippin does this and is like “What? It’s almost legal enough.”

I mean, it’s not like there’s any official rules for Duel Monsters anyway but apparently you can just turn each other into statuary and it’s like...fine. That’s fine.

Also, fun fact, about Yugioh statues, they come with eyeliner built in.

So much dedication to the guyliner in this show, mad respect.

And yes, I have sort of thought that Moki’s been sporting a teeny tiny Adam Lambert line this whole time. Like most our cast, honestly. But not Joey. I feel like Joey would never have the patience to learn how to waterline.

I mean the Kaiba’s are essentially brain dead, yes? Their brain functions have been removed and uploaded to the cloud to never be downloaded back into their vegetable bodies? That counts enough for me.

Seto Kaiba just 2 corpses away from 169ing the Hell out of that death scene. A shame.

Bro was like “well at least this crying statue stuff is more like something that normally happens in a kid’s show.” and I was like “THIS? So this ever happened in Pokemon?” and bro was like “It did actually, Ash Ketchum was turned into stone and then cried as a rock statue, and then Pikachu hugged him to make him all better” And as you may be aware my bro is full of spicy headcanons so I’m not sure if that’s actually true but it was like

“Bro, was Ash Ketchum ever turned to stone because his abusive Father’s secret son, who has been turned into an evil computer, wants to kill his brother and then take over his body to run the Patriots from Metal Gear? That happened on Pokemon?” And Bro admitted “Ok, maybe not so much.”

Anyway, Pharaoh awakens to put a stop to this nonsense by bringing up the long list of things that Noah did just now that is absolutely cheating.

Anyway, this is Noah now.

He’s just this...huge 100 story tall person with very bored judgy eyes just floating in the sky with vaguely religious iconography going on and bunch of wings like that one character design that we all have in our portfolio. Yeah, you know the one. It’s this guy. We’ve all drawn this guy. Anyway, it’s going to be very hard to take him seriously when this guy has Noah’s voice.

Again, he is not, he is ass naked in there, though the dub did try and cover it up.

Anyway, next episode we get to basically start this entire duel over.

That’s nice. That’s nice of them to do to me. At least these kids finally got a chance to do some duel prep for the actual tourney they’re supposed to be doing later this season. Yeah. Remember that apocalypse? That’s still going on somehow. Maybe by the time they’ll get to it, most of the competitors will be dead?

Here’s a link to read the recaps in order from S1 Ep1

[elcorhamletlive]

MCU Rewatch: The First Avenger

“this one has waited long enough” IT SURE FUCKING HAS

I like Red Skull’s introduction. I especially like the hints we get of his transformation (”you will burn”, “I already have” and the moment where he touches his cheek) and the two close-up shots we get of Hydra’s symbol, both spotless and then, after the scene, with blood splattered all over it. It’s not SUBTLE, but I like it.

THE SHOT OF THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE. I LOVE.

“Kind makes you think twice about enlisting, huh?” “Nope” I gotta say, I used to think this scene was the first guy teasing Steve, but rewatching I think he’s just making conversation and Steve is just full set on DETERMINATION MODE so his response is a little too blunt. lol I love it.

nnngg I love Evans’ facial expressions when he approaches the doctor??? The matter-of-factly way he explains both of his parents’ death (because he’s done this exact process many times before)??? I LOVE IT.

“Every able-bodied young man is serving his country” Look. Far be it from me to claim this movie has some groundbreaking message about disabilities or whatever, but it does such a good job on stablishing Steve’s motivations. There’s a reason Steve longs to prove himself that’s so clear on this one line alone.

jahodiawjojaojowjdioj look I know we aren’t even ten minutes in and I already can’t shut up but!!!!!!!! My rant about how “angry chihuahua Steve” is the worst characterization wasn’t even entirely COMPLETE because at the movies scene, Steve downright tries to calmly ask the dude to stop at first???? His expression is wary and he’s like “hey, can you show some respect” and only when the guy keeps going that he evolves to “hey, can you shut up”. STEVE IS A REASONABLE PERSON WHO DOESN’T GO AROUND PICKING FIGHTS FOR NO REASON, THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

“We’ll face any threat no matter the size” just as the dude stands up and faces down lil Steve. I LOVE.

Aside from the GARBAGE CAN AS A SHIELD MY HEART GROWS THREE SIZES EVERY TIME I SEE IT (STEVE FIRST INSTINCT IS ALWAYS TO DEFEND FIRST IT TAKES A RIDICULOUSLY LONG TIME IN THE FIGHT FOR HIM TO EVEN THROW A PUNCH), he takes three punches straight on the face, all of which knock him to the ground, standing up each time. I kind of live bc it would have been easy to just cut to Steve already beated up and the dude going “you don’t know when to give up huh”, but they make a point of showing him standing up. This movie has such a good attention to detail.

Bucky tells Steve he got his orders and Steve’s sole response is to listen and then go “I should be going”. Steve kind of went through a bunch of emotional - and literal - blows in sequence, but his first reaction is not to emotionally rely on his best friend but to retreat and be by himself. Bucky sees through it and pushes him to not do that, thankfully, but it’s still an interesting characterization thing.

I’m in love with the way Steve takes a breath and straightens his bangs when they meet the girls. HE’S SO NERVOUS and he already knows how this is going to go.

TAKE HIS GODDMAN PEANUTS DEAR GOD LADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO MARRY HIM JUST DON’T BE RUDE!!!!

Dominic Cooper as young Howard is just perfect casting. He’s a delight to watch and he and Rdj look alike enough to see a family resemblance.

There’s a lot I can talk about Steve and Bucky’s argument at the fair, but I think it all boils down to the fact that I think both reasons they mention for Steve to insist on getting enlisted are true. Steve has something to prove, he wants to prove he’s not useless, and he also feels that, if someone is putting their lives on the line, he should also be out there doing the same. Both things can be points of influence, they don’t necessarily contradict each other.

Steve doesn’t have any delusions about war, though. Both of his parents died because of it. He doesn’t show any joy for Bucky when he’s recruited. At this point I do think he has respect for the army as an institution, but he knows war isn’t pretty.

Steve hurrying to put his shoes back on when he thinks he’s about to be arrested, lol. Pretty sure he would have tried to run away if the guard and Eskrine hadn’t shown up immediately.

One thing I like about this movie is that, although it doesn’t really challenge the idea of american patriotism significantly, it works around all the potentially unsavory aspects of a character like Steve with small details, such as giving Steve a non-american love interest and a non-american mentor, making a point to acknowledge their struggles as such (”Queen Victoria”), and also making a point to show how Steve himself doesn’t partake in this xenophobia. It’s one of the reasons this movie works.

That’s all to say I love Steve laughing when Peggy punches Hodge. He’s the only soldier who laughs. I love.

What does one pack to go prepare for war?? BOOKS, obviously. So many books. He’s a geek and I LOVE HIM.

The FLAG SCENE. How the sergeant guy doesn’t even expects him to DO anything and immediately tells him to fall back in line. His little “Thank you, sir” before he climbs the car!!!! This movie is just TOO FUCKING MUCH.

I teared up in the grenade scene. I feel like this is all you need to know about me as a person. The way he doesn’t hesitate, how he was willing to die right there in the middle of a training exercise gone wrong. How Peggy also rushes forward to do the same. The way his body curls over the grenade. This is my favorite scene in the entire MCU.

“He’s still skinny” nishuhseifh LOOK Phillips is a good and deserves more love, his perspective makes total sense and I enjoy all his moments in the film.

Also, when Phillips is defending the idea of picking Hodge to Eskrine, one of the things he says is “He follows orders, he’s a soldier”, which perfectly sets up the “not a perfect soldier, but a good man” theme that Eskrine will spell out in the next scene.

“Can I ask you a question?” “Just one?” LISTEN!! Eskrine thinks Steve must have a thousand questions about the nature of the procedure, but Steve DOESN’T because he doesn’t CARE he will do whatever it takes, the only thing he wants to know is why him because that is the only thing he can’t bring himself to understand.

“So many people forget the first country the nazis invaded was their own” Like I said, this humanity that is granted towards non-american characters is a crucial piece of why this movie succeeds, and this line is iconic and actually a pretty important piece of perspective in a WWII movie.

I love the scene of Steve and Peggy in the back of the car so much, it’s my favorite Steggy scene. Steve is just so clueless, starting his first conversation ever with a woman with “HEY LOOK AT ALL THESE PLACES WHERE I GOT MY ASS KICKED”, and I really like the parallel that is stablished between them when Peggy mentions every door shut in her face, and how Steve doesn’t really get Peggy’s motivations but he respects it, even if he fumbles through when he talks about it. 

I just love how sincere the whole thing is. “The right partner”, he says, not even looking at Peggy, not using it as a line to flirt with her. He’s just earnestly and openly saying that he’s a) terrible with romance and b) a huge romantic all the same. I LOVE.

He’s terrified in the serum scene, but he still cracks a joke when Eskrine asks him. Also, Eskrine landing a hand on his shoulder to steady him is so sweet. And then the procedure in itself is so painful and Eskrine and Peggy are ready to stop it but he yells he can do it. I’m just narrating the movie at this point but I love it. I love everything.

The first shot of Steve post-serum is so hilariously pornographic, I still can’t believe it.

Peggy is actually the first one to pursuit the Hydra spy. Steve’s first focus is just on Eskrine. Strong characterization is all over this movie and it’s so good.

PEGGY SHOOTING THE DRIVER IN THE HEAD FROM SUCH A LONG DISTANCE IS SUCH A BADASS MOMENT.

Also she shouts “I had him!” when Steve saves her! This movie does so much to stablish she and Steve are really alike, I appreciate it so much.

I’m gonna refrain from objectifying Chris too much because god knows this is getting too long without this constant point, but the tits are out of control on the car chase scene. God bless.

And I love how he has no sense of balance or control of his speed. Crashing into a store and then apologizing as he runs away. lol

He’s so emotionally distraught over Eskrine’s death. And the Phillips delivers such a huge blow with his “You are not enough” line. This is SUCH a theme with Steve through his mcu narrative, and it calls back to his feelings of helplessness pre-serum. It always hurts me to hear it.

I LOVE THE STAR-SPANGLED MAN SONG SO MUCH. It’s such a fun sequence and it makes sense and it’s such a clever choice to have that in the movie. Like, instead of hiding how incredibly cheesy a character like “Captain America” can be, let’s just play it up to deliberately ridiculous levels giving a nod to war propaganda! It’s SO GOOD.

And there’s so many moments in this sequence, too. Steve with his perfect post-serum memory still having to read cue cards. His awkwardness holding the baby and his relief when he hands it back to the mom. The Hitler punching, the comic books!! This movie really hits a wonderful balance of honoring the essence of Steve’s original character while also presenting him in a way that makes him relatable and likeable to non-american audiences.

I love that Steve doesn’t even get mad at the soldiers mocking him. They tell him to get the girls back and he’s honestly just like “uuuh I think they only know one song, but I’ll see what I can do”. And then the soldiers call him a fairy (”Tinkerbell”) and throw fruits at him and he’s just upset, but not mad. He gets where they’re coming from and he kind of agrees, as we see later by the dancing monkey draw. Steve was never comfortable on stage.

“You two will be in a lot of trouble when we land” HE’S WORRIED ABOUT PEGGY AND HOWARD BEFORE DROPPING ALONE INSIDE ENEMY LINES HA... HA.... HA.............. MY HEART IS BLEEDING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

The little smile Bucky gets when Steve says it’s him is the cutest stucky moment. 40s stucky is the best stucky. 

“did it hurt?” “A little” lol okay Steve

Flustered Steve is adorable. And Howard explaning to him what fondue is. lol

That being said I don’t like the scene where Peggy shoots the shield. Maybe my least favorite moment in the movie.

Okay, ideally, the Howling Commandos would have gotten a little more screentime and development, but I still feel like their sequences work. 

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone in Coney Island?” This line is hilarious to me because I went to Coney Island last year and rode the Cyclone and there’s literally a poster specifically warning people with heart issues or who are easily sick NOT to ride. Bucky, what were you thinking. lol

I love the motorcycle so much, and I love that it becomes a Steve thing.

“We can’t just knock on the front door” “Why not?” :D

I feel like Steve moves in to kiss Peggy after she rescues him, and then she kind of reminds him of the battle. lol It’s cute.

I had never noticed Red Skull disappears going upwards into space. It’s incredible to think IW took such a small piece of open narrative and paid it off.

Fandom is full of hot takes about Steve’s sacrifice and each one is more terrible than the other, but I’m not gonna waste time salting here, I just want to say it’s a beautiful and moving scene and I love that he stays talking to Peggy until the very end.

Peggy looking at the picture of pre-serum Steve and the theme playing in the background!!!!!! I’M EMOTIONAL.

I feel like SHIELD was onto something trying to break everything slowly to Steve. But I love that he finds out, and I love the headcanon that Fury meant to test him and see if he’d found out even more.

I’ve seen the alternate ending where Fury talks to Steve more and reassures him they need him and etc, and I get why from an emotional standpoint you’d want Steve to get that reassurance, but narratively I feel like the emotional punch of “I had a date” is pretty much perfect and the alternate ending would have taken away from it. It’s such a great ending.

Welp, here we are. I love this movie. I love love love it. It’s a movie I’ve rewatched before a couple times, but I still got so emotional rewatching it today. There’s so much attention to detail, strenght in characterization, and space for characters to feel and develop. It’s amazing that we spend pretty much the entire first act with smol Steve. I love it with all my heart.

[imnotcameraready]

If Villains Baked Cookies — Ch 1

A/N: hey!! since a few people asked about it, and I had some ideas floating around already, I’m making the story from this post into a longer Thing™. I can’t promise regular updates or anything, since writers block is very good at beating me down, and since I’m very much in the middle of semester at uni, but I CAN promise that I’ll be thinking about this story near constantly. chapter 2′s already in the works lol

also gonna tag @rebelrewriter since you asked about if this would b coming out! i hope you like it ^^

read it here on AO3!

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, a curse, cursing, violent threats (no actual violence in this one) — also to note is that this is written as dialogue! it’s all dialogue! all of it!!

Words: 2842

Pairings: some real light platonic moceit? other than that, uh, none. none in this whole story. its just Big FamILY time

Characters: Patton patton and more patton, Deceit, a bit of Virgil, mentions of Logan and Roman

hope you enjoy!

If Patton Hart were considering all of the factors, then he’d be able to trace all of these problems back to gardening. He hadn’t been raised a farmer — his parents had him apprenticed to a healer, which he thoroughly enjoyed, but found much more stressful than he could enjoy. And the grief after having a patient die on his table…. At the ripe old age of 22, he decided to retire from healing and moved out to a smaller village, near the kingdom’s outskirts, and began a farm.

He hadn’t expected it to be so challenging. The village he moved to was a farming village, with his closest neighbors being a few hours’ horseride away, and a royal liason coming to collect the village’s surplus foods every fortnight.

There was a blacksmith, doctor, tavern, city hall, and a small cell block in the village’s center. A few blocks away (closer to Patton’s actual house than the village) was a library, but he hadn’t seen anyone enter or exit it since he’d moved in. In fact, he never saw the lights on, either, and no one ever talked about it.

Farming was hard. The animals listened to him, thankfully, but nothing would ever grow. And he could only live off of animal products for so long (and god knows he would never kill them). Responses from those in the village ranged from sympathetically helpful to sarcastic rudeness, but all pointed toward the soil in his land plot being less than ideal for crop growing. Or something. There were a lot of reasons and Patton had stopped keeping track.

Other people in his little village were farming, though, so he thought that there was something wrong with his methods. Maybe he was using too much water? Maybe he should purchase a different type of fertilizer?

Patton was more of a people person, so his first instinct was to ask his neighbors for help.

Looking back, he wasn’t sure why he thought they would help. His neighbors had been passive-aggressively bullying him for a month, since he arrived. They laughed at him, scorned him for thinking arming may be easy, and refused to help.

Don’t think about them, Patton. They’re not long gone by now. Assholes.

He knew that. But Patton’s a nostalgic guy. And stop swearing! We have children in the house, now.

His second instinct was to go to the library. Sure, he didn’t know if it was open or even functioning, but any sort of help would be welcome, even just one book on farming.

When he went to the library (it was a spur of the moment decision) it was dark.

Patton lifted his lantern a little higher, casting light on the entirety of the high-ceiling-ed room. The library had two floors, as could be seen from the outside, but inside he noted that the second floor had an open balcony down to the first floor. There were a cluster of tables in the center of the room but every wall on both floors was covered in bookshelves, from ceiling to floor. Along with that, there were mismatched shelves between the center and walls, nearly as tall as the walls themselves, all full of books.

There must be something in here that could help, he’d thought, so Patton began looking.

Books were never his strong suit, but he did his best with searching for the right topics. Even just any key words. He scoured the shelves for two days and found….nothing. No books related to farming at all.

On the third day, because Patton was stubborn as an ox, he finally found something on the second floor. Tucked away in the lower-most corner of the farthest shelf against the wall to the left was a book titled “Gardening with Snakes.”

Despite not knowing much about farming, Patton was fairly certain from the beginning that snakes had little to nothing to do with gardening. He knew some snakes lived in gardens —

I don’t happen to do a lot of gardening.

This isn’t about you, yet, shush.

It was late in the day when he found the book, too, so Patton deemed it best to take the book home for reading.

A few pages in and it was clear that this was a book about using magic to garden.

Patton hadn’t considered using magic. As far as he knew, the only people in the kingdom who used magic worked directly with the royal family, and someone had to pass rigorous ritualistic tests to be considered for an apprenticeship.

But here this book was, almost like a “Magic for Fools,” something even he could digest despite not having any experience with the subject. And it looked like most of the magic in the book was actually aimed at gardening. There were spells on improving soil fertility, how to bless water to heal ones’ crops, how to protect farm animals from illnesses….

Patton was absolutely charmed.

Ugh….

It may have been an unconventional means of farming, but he’d lowered his standards for “conventional” fairly far. At this point Patton was ready to try anything.

So, within mere days, this book had him spellbound.

I don’t hate you.

I know you love me.

The first round of crops, using a simple-seeming soil fertility spell, grew wonderfully. The corn stocks were strong and sturdy, and in only one month they had shot up to his height. His spinach actually gave crop in only 2 weeks!

Patton celebrated all night and had a wonderfully fresh salad with a cheese-based sauce.

He didn’t know enough about gardening to know that his corn had grown at half the speed it would regularly, or that his spinach had grown thrice as fast. How would he? The whole point of his plight was that he didn’t know anything about gardening.

And, after the corn began producing after only three months and during the winter, his neighbors began to whisper.

He continued to study the gardening magic book, however, and began planting more crops completely out of season, and yet they grew. The wheat grew tall, the spinach produced plentifully, the green beans thrived….sometimes while covered in snow. There must be some form of witchcraft involved, the neighbors whispered.

And as soon as Patton realized he had a surplus, he began to bring his crops into the market at a nearby town. There was no way he could sell them at the high prices his neighbors would — he was always distraught when he went to the market and found himself a dollar coin or two short of even a loaf of bread. So he slashed his own prices. What need did he have for money, other than the occasional gifts and coins to send to his parents, or for paying for services every so often? People need to eat!

People flocked to his booth, drawn by his low prices and charming personality.

Patton, you’ve never been a people person.

Oh, I have been?

I thought you weren’t doing a story point of view thing.

Fiddlesticks! Don’t make fun of me, Dee, you made me break it!

Anyway.

His neighbors were once again aghast. Within a few weeks, they were up in arms. Not only was Patton drawing customers away from them, he was attracting the attention of the crown.

Now, unknown to Patton at this time, the royal family was well aware of the famine threatening to sweep the country. Access to food was scarce, so much so that most farmers in the nation were gaining less crops every harvest, therefore selling them at higher prices.

In order to secure a surplus of foods for the royal family, the King had ordered for 76% of all crops to be brought to the capital, at a slashed fee. It was like highway robbery!

It wasn’t highway robbery.

I’ve been trying to clarify my metaphors, Dee, it makes Logan feel better. Anyway, the King would send a collector every two weeks, and Patton knew that, but he didn’t realize how much was being taken.

First his neighbors confronted him about his prices. Of course, Patton felt bad for his neighbors, but he also pleaded with them to lower their own prices. People shouldn’t have to save up for a week to buy only one loaf of bread! The food is in plenty, and everyone needs to eat!

Then they warned him. He didn’t know what to think. They’d just been threatening him, threatening to burn down his barn, kill his animals, burn his crops….now they wanted him to be safe?

They said the King would come to his doorstep. Not actually the King but a liason, a squire or some sort of lord or something, to make sure Patton fell in line with the King’s “policy.” And if Patton didn’t, then the King would make sure his farm died with him.

Of course, Patton was more than a little worried either way. He didn’t think being a farmer would make him on the run from the law, but what can you do? He didn’t expect these sorts of problems to just

Crop up.

Ugh. I’m not leaving.

Fine, fine, no more puns! Stay!

One more pun and I’m not going to get Logan to finish the story. I fully care that he doesn’t know what happens.

Alright….

He noted it, dully, and continued with his farming. But, true to what his neighbors said, there was a proceeding of lords who visited his house the very next day.

They told him about the patriotism he’d be donating the food to, how it was for the good of the country. But Patton was good at seeing through lies at this point. But more on that in a bit!

He didn’t know how he knew they were lying, but he knew. So he said no. No, he wouldn’t be giving the King any of the surplus food. All of it should be given to the people, because if the King was getting food from everyone else, then he should be having plenty! And how much was he going to be paying for it? The King had a lot of money. Why should he get such a steep discount compared to the market price?

It didn't make sense to Patton, so he said no. And the lords threatened him with everything his neighbors warned him with. They said the King would retaliate.

So, in a moment that Patton didn’t understand for a while, he responded “I sure hope he does.”

That is the dumbest thing I have ever done. I’ve done a lot of dumb things, but I still think this takes the cake!

Oh, finally giving up on the narration?

You know what, Dee. I think I will. I think everyone should hear me scream about my life from my own voice, with my own name, because DANG NABIT it was hard!

You’re not valid, but it is not fun to listen to you refer to yourself in the third person.

Well….thanks, Dee. Alright. I’ll keep it up then!

That was also not the dumbest thing you’ve done, I disagree.

It was dumb, but you helped. D’you want to explain that or should I?

I think I would tell it better.

Okay, okay, I’ll explain. So, rolling back a bit to the magic book. The magic book Patton found was actually related to a specific deity. Not a negative or positive one, but just a deity of illusions and growth. Because of the growth part, he was one of the many small-time deities who were called upon in help for the harvest.

Since magic had been hoarded amongst the upper-class, very specific deities were picked to be worshipped and, well, taught about to the people. Patton didn’t even know about the deity his book was based around.

At first, he thought it was fake, but the more he used the book’s knowledge in his farming, the more he attracted the deity’s attention. It was the first time a human had called upon his specific teachings in hundreds of years. And then he had to watch this human be threatened by people who were supposedly representing his best interests.

That night, the deity showed himself to Patton. He said he’d been intrigued. Well. Technically he said he hadn’t been intrigued.

This deity, since he was the deity of illusions first and foremost, lied in every sentence. He’d actually been cursed to, by another god! At first it was confusing, but that was just how he spoke, ya know? Nothing he could do about that, and nothing Patton could do!

He said he’d been intrigued by Patton’s use of his magic, because it’d been outlawed years and years ago. Patton, surprised, offered the deity a drink and some dinner.

That wasn’t adorable. A human has always offered me food and beverage.

Look, Deceit! I’d never been faced with a god before! How was I supposed to know what to do?

Fair enough. Please stop.

We had dinner, the deity and….Patton. And they discussed.

Patton wasn’t particularly interested in learning more magic, but the deity promised to teach him all he knew about gardening. But to earn that, the deity also had to teach him other forms of magic. Patton had heard the kingdom’s histories with magic, how the kingdom villainized all mischievous forms of magic in favor of more powerful or controllable forms, but this deity claimed that the kingdom did this by casting away and levying laws against certain other magics and, ergo, certain other gods.

Do you want to explain this part?

Me? Um, well, I think I could definitely do a good job of being understood. And because the story is not yours, I fully believe I could do it justice in telling it. Plus I just want to say it.

Well, alrighty then! Another thing about this deity is that he was lonely. That’s putting it kinda blunt. This deity in particular was mad, mad that he’d been abandoned, mad that he’d been locked away, so he had an ulterior plan. If he could corrupt this one human farmer and make him carry out his bidding, then this god could level the kingdom and kill everyone who put him in ethereal exile!

But he was more lonely than he was letting himself admit, and so was the human. So when the deity showed up every night to teach the human magic, the human would cook up a dinner with whatever foods they had on hand. Soon the tutoring lessons stretched longer, and then the deity just started….gosh, was there even a grace period before you just started living at my house?

I believe there was. I completely remember when I began staying at your house, but after you built me a whole room, well, how could I refuse?

That’s true, I guess! And you cooked a little, too!

Aren’t I just the best house guest?

Good use of sarcasm.

I hate loopholes in the lying curse.

Loopholes are the best! Alright, so then….wait, where was I?

I don’t remember, you weren’t talking about the first King’s messenger.

Oh, right! After Patton took that threat in accidental stride, the messenger….probably went back to the castle and told the King! And I imagine he was furious, because within a week, uh….

Gosh, yeah, that did happen….

Do you want me to tell this part?

Well….

I won’t tell it—

“Hey, Patton?”

Ah—yes, Virgil?

“Um, Logan, uh-he messed up a spell and, um. Roman’s stuck in a wall.”

....He’s….he’s stuck in a wall?

“Yeah, uh, Logan was practicing a portal spell and Roman followed him through it, the portal, but L said he didn’t know, so, uh. It closed. And Roman’s stuck in the wall now, and the extra concrete’s sitting on the ground outside the wall and he’s kinda screaming at Logan. Lo can’t figure out how to get him out, either.”

I….Well, let’s go. Deceit, can you finish telling the story?

“Telling the story? Ah, shit, did I—shoot, I meant shoot. Did I interrupt something?”

Nothing too big! Dee was going to take over for me, anyway! I just figured I should talk about how our big ole’ family came together! Like an oral history?

“.....Yeah.”

And I don’t really want Logan, um, accidentally closing the rest of the portal while Roman’s halfway through it. That would be….wall-ful.

“....”

….

You’re right, that wasn’t my best.

“Pat, I think Roman’s crying by now, and that pun’s about to make me start crying.”

I cannot take over, Patton, you don’t need to deal with that. Tell Logan he’s not an idiot for trying a portal spell this early in his magic career.

He’s not an idiot! He’s still learning!

Yes, indeed, because you also nearly killed yourself while learning.

Hah! You know I did! So that was a truth! Loop those holes, Dee, loop ‘em!

“Patton, can we go?”

You’re right, Virge, you’re right — let’s go.

[spnskinnyballs]

Love Is Falling

Summary - You and Dean go on your first date just as the leaves begin to change, the entirety of fall is spent seeing just how sweet a seasonal romance can really be.

Word Count - 2,291

Warnings - Swearing, fluff, cutie patootie dean

A/N - This is a collaboration with @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting so thank you for looking through my work and go read her version if you’re a Sam girl! A season of love

Part One

Series Masterlist/ My Masterlist

Closing the back door of the classic black car behind you with a wave and a thank you on your lips for Dean’s younger brother and his girlfriend you pulled your bag out in front of you to check the contents once more.

As you rumbled through and ticked off an imaginary list in your head you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on Dean sternly telling Emily and his little brother to be careful with his ‘baby’ once more. Giggling to yourself, he made his way over to you after finally relinquishing his beloved and turned his attention to you. With a smile on his face he looked down at yours, “What’s so funny sweetheart?”

“Nothing, just if I knew how difficult it would be for you to be without your car for a few hours I would have suggested something different is all.” The joking tone of your voice earned an eye roll and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’ causing you to laugh even harder.

Slapping his arm, you traced your hand down until your fingers found his palm and you tugged him along walking backwards. “C’mon, let's go, I’m excited!”

Shaking his head at you a fresh smile formed once more at your enthusiasm and he matched your strides until you were close enough to turn and walk deeper into the Shenandoah National Park before you. Sunlight streamed through the branches bouncing off the crumpled orange leaves that scattered the floor, it really was beautiful.

As the two of you made your way towards the designated trail you both shared in the silence, taking in the background noises of the streams below and squirrels jumping through the trees.

Your hands were still linked and it sent an awkward shiver up your back, should you be holding hands like this? I mean it was technically a first date after all and you didn’t really mean to hold his hand, you were just pulling him along. As the trivial thoughts made themselves known you physically shook your head and made the decision to move your hand so that your fingers were interlinking with his. The squeeze of his fingers against yours sent a flurry to your heart and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face.

With a clearing of his throat you looked up to find Dean poking his tongue out in between his lips before he spoke, his eyes on the path in front of you. “So where are you taking me then?”

Pointing ahead of you your finger scanned through the clearing in the trees, “I just want to do this little trail, Fox Hollow Loop, it’s not that long but it’s supposed to be really pretty with an old cemetery in the middle.”

Deans steps faltered as he looked at you quizzically, “I’m sorry, what? I offer to take you out for dinner, drinks, the whole nine and you say no thanks let’s go to a graveyard in the middle of a forest?!”

You couldn’t help the whole body laugh that escaped you at his comment, throwing your head back your free hand wrapped around his flanneled bicep to keep yourself upright. Looking up at his soft features you slapped his arm gently, “You have a lot to learn, Winchester!”

Both laughing at one another you continued through the clearing, all the while Dean guiding you down the old steps and leading you to safe footing in the puddled paths. He was such a gentleman, bringing his charm out in full force for today’s activities as though you even had a chance to deny him.

Even though you made a point to turn down his advances the first few times he asked you to join him for ‘a fun night out’ you weren't about to deny the way your heart sped up when he leaned across to hand you back your car keys that first time you met and those green eyes bored into yours. Or even the way that his tongue peeked out ever so slightly to graze against his lower lip when he wasn’t concentrating. He even smelled good. All the damn time. Who smelt good when they were covered in grease and sweat?! Dean frickin winchester that’s who.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Dean abruptly stopping, moving himself behind your body your breath hitched in your throat as he brought his face down so his cheek was side by side with yours. You could feel the soft scratch of his stubble against your cheek, involuntarily leaning into it. You could feel the smile that spread across his cheeks as he pointed ahead of your eyeline, following his gaze you saw the start of an old crumbling wall hidden through the trees.

Gasping in excitement you twisted around finding yourself almost nose to nose with him and there they were again, those beautiful eyes an even lighter green now that they were taking in the orange of the scenery. Finding yourself staring you quickly took a step back as you watched a smirk spread across his cocky little face, “C’mon Winchester, I gotta take some photos,”

He followed behind you, an arm wrapping loosely around your waist as you walked across the uneven stone flooring. “What we taking photos of, the church?” He questioned.

Looking down at the floor you hoped you hid the smile that came as he wrapped his arm around you, you didn’t want to give him too many reasons to be cocky. You stepped forward knocking loose rocks in your way with your hiking boot as you moved your body ever so slightly closer to his before you responded. “Kinda, I’m not really sure what I want yet so we’re just gonna have a look. I only need a few photos though.”

“That’s cool, they for Instagram or something?”

Laughing at his question you looked up into his face only to find a soft smile gracing it before you calmed your laughter, “I’m sorry, you just don’t really catch me as the Instagram type.”

He huffed indignantly and brought his hand to his chest in mock outrage. “I’ll have you know I’m very cool, ya know, I’m down with the kids.”

The laughter that left your mouth was musical, Dean's whole face lit up in amusement and wonder that he could draw that sound from your lips. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and knowing that he was the one to draw that pure song from you only made a sense of pride bloom in his chest.

When you finally caught your breath there were tears glistening against your eyes along with a pink tinge to your cheeks. “Sure honey, whatever you say,” your words were patronising and crackled with laughter causing Dean to chuckle despite his feigned annoyance.

Stumbling towards the boundary of the graveyard neither of you could keep the laughter at bay. It seemed that anything the other did for those few minutes made the other laugh and a chain reaction was set off until you were leaning against the cold stonewall begging him to leave you alone. Backing away from you slowly Dean held up his hands in surrender, his cheeks hurting from laughing so hard. It seemed like all you did in the last hour was make one another laugh, could be worse for a first date.

Once you’d regained your self control you followed on behind to find where that man had wandered off to. Tracing your fingers against the crumbling wall you took in the beauty of the little courtyard, purely by the age if nothing else. Finding an old wooden gate you pushed it open with a squeak that rang unpleasantly through your ears until you were standing on the fresh grass. Looking around your eyes were drawn to a dozen or so incredibly old headstones, not for their age this time but for how well kept they were even after all this time. They were dawned with flowers and patriotic flags, every headstone was clean and cared for, the beauty of such a random act of kindness made your heart feel just that little bit lighter.

As your eyes skirted the remaining decorations of the small courtyard you found Dean sat leaning up against a broken wall near a line of trees. His bowlegs stretched out before him, flannel sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and a curious look on his face as he watched your gaze from the second the squeak of the gate announced your entry.

Wandering over towards him you slid off your backpack and placed yourself on the grass until you were side by side, thighs just touching one another. Fishing a water bottle out of your bag you took a long sip then offered it over to Dean, your eyes still on the beauty in front of you.

Dean tapped the half drunk water bottle against your arm effectively bringing you out of your trance. Taking the bottle from his hands you smiled gratefully at him before leaning your head against the wall so you were almost flush to his side. “You know you look really cute when you look at pretty shit like this.”

Bumping your shoulder into his you let out a small laugh, “Thanks, I think?”

The smile he was giving you just had cheeky written all over it. “Oh it’s a compliment Y/N, don’t worry.”

“Well aren’t you charming today! Okay I’m gonna take a couple photos then we can walk the other part of the trail back, that sound good?” You asked pulling you backpack in between your legs to hunt for your camera. Dean responded with an affirmation and crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his chin to the sky a little as he closed his eyes. You could physically see his muscles relax into the sun despite the lack of warmth.

Finding your camera you rolled forward onto your knees until your elbows were in the grass and you could take a photo or two on your hands and knees. It was purely for the angle, absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your ass was now in direct eyeline of the handsome man behind you. Nope, for all you knew his eyes were still closed. They definitely weren’t closed anymore.

After taking a few photos on the floor you wandered around scribbling names you found on headstones in your notes as well as anything else you thought would be useful for later. Your journey took you on a full circle around the dilapidated ruins and by the time your little spot came back into view once more you searched for your date finding him sprawled across the grass.

Curiously you wandered forward until you heard him speak a quiet ‘hey buddy’ and you saw a sliver of fluff. Halting your advances you pulled your camera back out and zoomed in until you could take in the image in its entirety. You snapped a few photos of Dean almost laying in the grass holding a grey bunny near his face and calling him buddy.

Honestly it was probably one of the cutest things you’d ever seen.

Smiling to yourself you called out to him as you started to make your way forward, “Making friends are we, De?”

He looked up at you startled before carefully guiding the rabbit to the ground telling him to shoo, by the time his eyes found yours again his entire face seemed bashful and he shrugged his shoulders.

Christ, he was just getting cuter.

You offered a hand out to him and helped pull him to his feet, even if he was just humouring you he clasped his hand in yours and your feet stumbled beneath you before his hands caught your waist to steady you. Yep, add ridiculously strong to that list too.

Looking up into his eyes you whispered a small thanks before his eyes wandered down towards your lips and back up to your gaze seeking permission. Your breath caught in your throat once more as you took in all the meaning behind those green orbs, all the desire, all the want and you felt your heart rate speed up. Your hands moved up his arms to place gently on his chest as his hands pressed into your side just a little bit firmer and pulled you flush towards him. Deans gaze never left yours, not for a second, he was searching for any of trace of doubt or hesitation within you.

You could tell exactly what he was doing, the level of respect he was showing you only made your heart flutter as he made you feel worthy of such treatment. With a faint smile gracing your face you leaned your whole body towards him, rubbing your nose against his you finally closed your eyes and Dean closed the rest of the gap.

He pushed forward until his soft, warm lips pressed gently against yours pulling you impossibly closer as a hum of appreciation reached through your body. Pulling away to break the kiss you deliberated and leaned back in for one more lingering moment.

As you two left one another Dean leaned his forehead to press against yours, a delicate and true smile on his lips as he moved his hand to ghost a thumb across your cheek. After a moment he chuckled and leaned back to look at you, “And to think you turned me down twice Y/N, look what we’ve been missing,”

Laughing once more at the green eyed handsome man in front of you you scrunched up your nose and wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down towards your lips before whispering against them. “Well you know what they say Winchester, third time's the charm.”

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[charlyoddsox27]

its 6am, i havent slept, im bored, so im posting a list of the mercs in order of whom i like the most and reasons why, because thats something i should do i guess?

here goes

(spoilers for the comics down below but either way i think im the only person on earth who has never read them before now)

~~~

~~1. Medic~~

reasons for being my favourite:

• fucking. look. at. him. 👌

• 'mad german doctor' is one of my favourite tropes and he is a pretty bang-on satirical depiction of it

• cute-ass german accent

• he has pet pidgeons hE LOVES HIS PIDGEON PALS THEY KEEP HIM COMPANY

• healers are the most respectable class imo and since Medic pretty much started it he's automatically the best, thats how it works right?

• he sold some random persons soul to satan in exchange for a ***ballpoint pen*** and can i just say, fucking mood??? (he is literally the "i'd sell you to satan for one cornchip" meme)

• "yes, Archimedes...I couldn't agree more." *shudders* b oi .. .

• so many more reasons to love this gross old doctor so little room in Tumblrs posts.

~~2. Spy~~

reasons for being my second favourite:

• cranky, done with everyones shit, just wants to be left alone, fucking mood

• he's a spy i mean c'mon. look at the swanky-ass suit, look at the class radiating from this asshole.

• he may be a dick but he has a soft side he's just too jaded to show it most of the time (see: Scouts death in the comics?? real tears. honestly wish they'd panned that out more.)

• masks are hot tbFH--

• he enjoys a nice glass of whisky by the fireplace and so do i (fun fact: france is the biggest importer of scottish whisky in the world so its a nice touch)

• shapeshifting is fucking cool are you serious like he can just. do that. what a legend

• "i have a cyanide pill in one of my molars, if i break it then spit some in your mouth before i die, we can avoid being tortured." *'heavy' bursts in to save them* "PFFTHBTHF--"

• "SEDUCE ME."

• arrogant frenchman is one of my other favourite tropes and this is the most arrogant frenchman ive ever seen

• he's the only fully sane Merc, maybe apart from Engie.

• people love to hate him bc he's an asshole but...come on. after working with all those other weirdos for years, you'd be pretty jaded too.

• as a gross shipper, he's the easiest and the most fun (imo) to ship with Medic (rip me)

~~3. Pyro~~

reasons for being my third favourite:

• would have tied with Soldier if it werent for that one picture of them in the comics holding a puppy over their head with the most adoring expression on their mask??? good Pyro. goodest Pyro.

• doesn't do much in the comics but makes up for it in pure charm. look at that soulless face and tell me you dont love it.

• ambiguous gender ambiguous gender amBIGUOUS GENDER AMBIGUOUS GENDER. she/he/they? trans? nb? whatever you headcanon, it'll never be confirmed so its literally up to your own imagination. fucking ace, Valve 👌👌👌

• likes to burn things. god damnit. they like to burn things, guys. but they enjoy it so much, you just cant hate them, you can only feel a sympathetic joy that this precious lunatic is having fun in their own little world.

• canonically mentally ill (schizoprenia? it could be hallucinogenic drugs but i like to think its schizophrenia.)

• pretty sure they burned a pair of pedophiles in the comics. at least i think thats what those panels were insinuating. "lets open an orphanage and have an endless supply of kids to--" sounds pretty red-flaggy to me tbh. plus they were the villains so, eh?

• bludgeoned a bear to death until its skull was pulp because it insulted their special interest. you go, Pyro.

• for a few bits in the comics they have a really cute family dynamic going on with other Mercs, Soldier for example."Miss Pauling, Pyros on my side of the car." "Miss Pauling, Pyro cut off my hand." fuckin' cuties.

• when they start putting on like 50 shirts to keep warm in the Russian mountains. chubby.

• a gas mask that can function as both badass, and completely adorable.

• just. everything about them. how could you not love them. they're not in the wrong, you are. stay away from my misunderstood child and let them burn things god damnit.

~~4. Soldier~~

look I'm sorry, I love Soldier and he was gonna be tied with Pyro but that fucking puppy drawing sold me.

• absolute gold every second he speaks. he could sneeze and i'll laugh.

• such a dumbass you cant get annoyed at him for it. like. just agree with him and move on. no point reasoning with a boulder. "haha! silly Miss Pauling, thinking theres different types of blood." Medic: "haha yes! indeed, silly."

• HUTTAH *NECK SNAP*

• i'm not American and even i can see how blatantly his character mocks stereotypical Patriotic Americans™. but its so dumb and laughable, its adorable.

• EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ZHANNA IS A BLESSING. EVERYTHING.

• the first "meet the Mercs" video i ever saw was "meet the Soldier" so he holds a special place in my heart

• (preaches about experiencing the horrors of war; has never actually been to war. shh dont tell anyone though--) *neck gets snapped*

~~5. Demoman~~

• I'm Scottish. even though his accent is absolute garbage (no offense to the VA), any representation is very nice.

• Black AND Scottish?? i mean has a character like that even existed before TF2??? amazing example of representation right there. there are barely even any black people in Scotland, how did this happen. I love it. more of this, please.

• he's a drunk guy who blows shit up for shits and giggles and god I wish I could too, sounds like a miracle stress-reliever.

• his sassy black scottish mother. combining the stereotypical black mother with the stereotypical scottish mother is literally the best thing that ever happened.

• the bit in the comic where Medic explains that Demo can't remember what happened to his eye bc he scooped out part of his brain, and the look on Demo's face. just. the look.

• again, he's scottish, he's stereotypical, and he's awesome.

~~6. Sniper~~

• underrated

• piss jars. piss jars everywhere.

• "no dad, im not a crazed murdering lunatic, I'm an assassin. ...well one's a job and the other's mental sickness!!"

• "meet the Sniper" has kickass music

• ruffled gross old man who isn't actually old, he's just seen some SHIT

• actually given development in the comics + some really good scenes with Spy.

• so suave...so...handsome. handsome ruffled bushman. me like.

• he dies first in the comics but gets brought back and gets a cool-ass scar. and then he's just walking around naked everywhere for the rest of the comic. Medic, where the fuck did you put his clothes.

• isn't actually Australian. thats like one of the biggest twists in the comic. "no wonder i was never inhumanly strong and my chest hair didn't grow into the shape of Australia!!" Classic.

• says "bugger" a lot and i love that word

• he needs a hug, let me hug him. and give him a bath.

~~7. Heavy~~

I'm gonna be crucified for putting the big lad so low but i promise i dont dislike any of the Mercs. he'd be higher up but...ive never really liked big huge tank-men tbh :/

• loveable as fuck

• will murder you if you bully his puny little Medic

• i looove Russian accents omfg

• he like big gun. i can respect that.

• when Medic was killed and he went APESHIT on Classic!Heavy and I lost my fuckin' mind over that shit

• he probably has a soft spot for small cute animals. i love imagining him being swarmed by Medics flock of doves and petting them like "good bird...so many good bird..."

• actually smarter than people give him credit for???

• i really really wish his character was a lil more fleshed out but. that's just me. i love him but he doesn't have the same appeal to me as Medic or Spy.

• his entire relationship with Medic...ugh. yes. best friends and/or boyfriends. all good to me 👌

• he named his gun Sasha and that's adorable

~~8. Engineer~~

• gOD, FUCK, I REALLY WISH HE DID MORE IN THE COMICS. i barely know anything about his character. i like him a lot but...god, he...he doesn't...do.....anything.......

• he built a cool robot arm for himself and AI turrets and teleporter machines and guns that fire magic healing powers and immortality machines, in the 1960s. what. some kind of wizard fuckery is this.

• smoothest voice in the west

• "y'all"

~~9. Scout~~

oh god i really am gonna be crucified. i dont hate him i just. like him the least.

• shitboy

• reminds me of a shitty ex but also kinda relateable in a way

• some genuinely funny bits in the shorts.

• gross horny hetero teen boy with a god complex and serious daddy issues. also, he can't read. the "sex bom" tattoo on his chest will be an eternal testament to that. nice job, Spy. you raised him good.

~~~

hoo boy there we go theres all the boys, all the beautiful boys (and Scout) in order of how much i love them. if i made any errors in my info about the canon, feel free to send me death threats 💙 (no seriously tell me though, being a newbie is embarrassing)

so uh. yeah. that took two hours to write. its now 8am. im still bored lol. bye i guess.