#both these assholes squared up with thor and lived i love them

[bootlegatreus]

Fayetos on the mind ever since the game confirmed they are enemies to lovers + bonus GOW3 Kratos because I hate him /pos

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Don’t Let Go

TITLE: Don’t Let Go

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight as well as @melodylnoelle

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki's life if he did not let go at the rainbow bridge... (After the Bifrost being destroyed.)

RATING:  Explicit

NOTES/WARNINGS: Depression. Thoughts of suicide. Odin is a dick. Thor is an asshole but still cares about his brother. Frigga is a concerned mother but puts the image of the Odin family first. Okay… everyone still treats Loki badly.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my thoughts of what it might have been like if Loki did not let go. This is set immediately after the Bifrost being destroyed. Loki has a lot to sort through...

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Loki sat staring at the food his mother sent for him and the events played in his mind making his heart constrict.

All he wanted was to delay Thor's coronation. 

Loki knew his brother was not ready with how hot headed he could get. His reaction to finding the frost giants had gotten into the vault was evidence of how Thor would jump blindly into a war… started the war and that day, the start of the house of Odin's lies coming to light for many. Loki was the only one who acknowledged some of the lies, but he did not know the lies about himself.

Loki played with his hand, the hand that turned blue with the giant’s touch weeks ago. 

Loki was torn, caught somewhere from dreading that day and being somewhat thankful for the truth. However, the truth was he IS the monster everyone feared as children and hated as adults. The son of Laufey, a frost giant, the ruler of Jotunheim. Odin's enemy… was Loki an enemy of Odin?

-:-

“But,” Odin stepped forward, away from the Casket of Ancient Winters, “the day will come when one of you will have to defend that peace.”

“Do the frost giants still live?” Loki questioned quietly.

Thor looked to his brother. “When I’m King, I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!” He made show of swinging his arm as though it had a sword. “Just as you did, father.”

“A wise King never seeks out war. But-“ he paused, looking between the two of them – “he must always be ready for it.” He strode past them, heading to the vault’s exit.

Loki and Thor smiled at each other. Loki knew Thor’s was in warning of some healthy competition, and he would certainly give it to him. He knew his brother would be King – he was the elder of the two, after all. But he also knew that one day, he would be a great King.

With Loki’s counsel, of course.

 Loki smiled at his brother. If what Thor wanted was healthy competition, then so be it. Thor would have to let that be his teacher.

More than anything, Loki looked forward to Thor’s coronation, and standing by his side as he rules.

They both turned, running to their father and taking his hands.

“I’m ready, father!”

“So am I!” Loki added.

“Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings.”

They left the vault, and Odin brought the boys to the dining hall. While Odin had said no more on the subject, Thor and Loki spoke to each other about what their father had told them.

“One day, brother, we will be warriors, and we will bring an end to the frost giants!”

Loki nodded excitedly. “We will make Father proud for sure.” An idea crossed his mind, and he smiled wickedly. “Shall we start practice now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I will be the frost giant, and you be Odin. Try to best me.” Loki picked up a roll from the table and threw it at Thor, landing square in his face. At Thor’s startled outburst, Loki jumped from his seat, running the length of the table.

Thor recovered quickly, grabbing another piece of food and throwing it in Loki’s direction. Loki anticipated it, though, and dodged perfectly.

“Oh, come now, you call that the might of Odin? You can do better than that!” Loki took another roll and lobbed it at Thor.

This time, Thor was ready, and it breezed past his shoulder and across the room.

“So speaks you, Frost Giant, who could clearly only hit me by surprise!”

They picked up their pace, throwing more food and laughing jovially. Smile on his face, Loki turned to grab another piece of food.

But his smile faded as he turned and ran right into Odin, who was glaring down at the boy.

“That’s enough!” He said to them both.

Thor dropped the  bird leg that had been in his hand, straightening immediately. “Father, I am sorry. We were just playing.”

“Is that how princes should behave?” Odin’s voice was stern, but there was some softness to his voice still.

“It was just a bit of fun, Father. We meant no harm,” Loki pleaded with him.

Odin’s voice lost the softness as he turned his face to Loki again. “You started this, did you not? You know this is not the time or place for your foolery!”

“I am sorry, Father. I did not mean-“

“You will be punished for your behavior here. Go wait in your chambers until I am done here,” Odin demanded.

“Yes, Father.” Loki bowed his head, turning to go.

“As for you,” he heard Odin say as he left, ” I trust you not to get involved in his trickery again. You are a prince, I expect you to act like it.”

-:-

Of course Loki is an enemy of Odin... Odin favored Thor forever and before Thor was born. Thor was his own blood while Loki was the blood of another race entirely. And he was everything Odin wanted him to be. Loki was never loved by anyone in the way everyone cared for Thor. Even Thor himself openly told Loki how much he despised him for forcing the only way to Jane to be destroyed.

If Thor hated him so much why did he plead with Loki to hold on and don't let go?

-:-

In a blinding flash, the bridge cracked and collapsed. The pulsing glow of rainbow light ceased. The waves roared loudly as they were pushed away. The bifrost, now stilling, crashed and exploded as it fell into the void of space below.

There was a sensation of flying, and then falling. The screams ripped through his throat out of his control.

This was it, he was done.

Or so he thought. He came to a jarring halt as Thor gripped onto Gungnir. But that made no sense. Should Thor not just be falling with him?

That was when he saw Odin standing at the cracked edge of the rainbow bridge. He had caught Thor’s leg, keeping them both from following the bifrost into its oblivion. Thor grunted in pain from the position, but Odin made no move to pull them up. Loki looked up to see what was keeping him, but was met with nothing but disappointment on Odin’s face.

“I could have done it father!” He called up to him. “I could have done it! For you! For all of us!” He hoped that his father would forgive him soon and pull them both up.

But his face did not change, and he was met with two heavy words. “No, Loki.”

The weight of what he meant crashed onto him. Odin was not disappointed that he failed. He was disappointed that he tried. What he had thought would prove his worth to his father had in fact done just the opposite.

He felt sick. He felt shamed. How in Hel was he supposed to continue on among the Asgardians now, knowing that he is not one of them? Knowing that Odin would likely never forgive him. Never want him. Knowing that he was the reason they would feel trapped here, and they would all know it, too. Was Odin waiting to pull them up because he truly did not want to? Loki had only longed to matter to Odin. To be Thor’s equal. But he never would, would he? Now he longed for nothing more than to follow the bifrost into death.

Well, that. That was something he could still do.

He took one last look to both of them. His breaths slowed and came more easily. Resigning to the end, and started to loosen his grip on Gungnir.

“Loki, no.”

Thor’s voice had given Loki pause for a moment. He had seen the change on Loki’s face, and now wore a pleading expression of his own.

But Odin’s had not changed. It didn’t matter.

“Brother, please, do not do this!” Thor continued pleading. “We have all lost much on this day. Please do not make us lose you as well.”

He was surprised at the sincerity, the urgency, in his voice. Had he not just fought to stop Loki? Wielded his hammer against him? He knew in Thor’s eyes Loki would hold all the blame for the bifrost’s destruction. He would never see the woman he seemed to love so much. Why did he want Loki to live?

“Loki, please, I am sure father will be able to pull us up. Just hold on, brother. Hold on and don’t let go.”

Whatever it had been that made him pause – Thor’s sincerity or the questions that now flowed through his mind – kept Loki’s hand on Gungnir.

“Father, please, pull us up!” Thor asked, never turning his face from Loki. Odin still heard them, and slowly, the two were brought back onto the bridge.

The brother’s stood, and Thor embraced Loki. Loki did not return it, confusion swimming in his mind again.

“I may be angry with you, but you are my brother. We will get through this, Loki, of that I am sure.”

-:-

[margoshansons]

The Killing Kind (17/17)

Part Seventeen. 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 

MASTERLIST

Final word count: 24.8k

Summary: The kids escape from the trip of hell and finally find some peace back home.

Warnings: Anger issues. Threats.

Notes: Man so this is it. This is the end and final chapter of this amazing series. Thank you all so much for commenting and liking and reblogging. Please remember that while she and Peter are the main ship, this is Y/N’s story. Without further ado, here is the final chapter of the Killing Kind. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Y/N ignored her limp wrist as she made her way to the hotel Mr. Harrington had decided to book last second. She didn’t want to think about how her mother might not be human. She didn’t want to think about her dad locked up in a high profile prison, legally dead to the rest of the world. She didn’t want to think about the fact that the board at her dad’s failing company needed her as the next CEO. 

She just wanted to collapse onto a fluffy bed and sleep off the pain that spun through her body. 

“Thank god you’re alright!” MJ’s body crashed into hers, the extra momentum sending her spinning. Y/N pulled away, meeting her friend’s red eyes. “I was so worried I would never see you again.”

Y/N stood there, staring at MJ. She was alive. She was here. She was safe. She was real. Y/N pulled her back in for a hug, tears escaping involuntarily.

“Oh my god you’re real” She whispered, voice breaking. “You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe.”

MJ sighed, a smile crawling across her face in relief. “I was worried you would leave me alone with that sweaty guy forever.”

The pair chuckled, pulling away to share a wide smile, tears mirroring each other on both girl’s cheeks. 

“Told you I’d be back” Y/N joked, laughter exploding from her chest. Ned gave her a small pat on her shoulder, reassurance. But she didn’t see the person she was worried about most. “Where’s Peter?”

Ned piped up with the answer, “He’s in his room. May called him, wanted to make sure he was okay after everything.”

Y/N nodded, making her way up the stairs. 

“Y/N wait!” MJ called, racing up after her. “I uh, I wanted to say that uh,”

Y/N smirked at her attempt to be more vulnerable. 

“I’m really grateful to have you as a friend,” MJ said, before turning to head toward her room, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.

Y/N let out a breath, and she knocked on Peter’s door. The beaten-up boy stood there, phone in hand, EDITH on his face. 

“Hey” He breathed.

“Hey” Y/N replied. “Can I come in?” Peter nodded his head, stuttering out an invitation, hastily tidying up what little belongings he had left after the explosion. They stood there, hormones raging as the two tried to figure out their feelings internally. 

They had kissed on the plane.

He had given her a necklace. But what did it mean?

“Peter–” She was cut off with a quick kiss. Soft and awkward.

“That uh, that necklace means what you think it means,” Peter confessed bashfully. 

She fingered the small charm, placing a kiss near the corner of his mouth before wrapping her arms around him. They stayed that way the rest of the night, snuggling together on the bed, their shared trauma keeping them both awake, but the comfort of their embrace allowing them to fall asleep.

***

The plane ride back was going to be long if the way Betty and Flash were staring at her was any indication. She didn’t plan on accidentally revealing her powers to the two, but she seriously had no idea that they were going to be there with MJ and Ned.

“Everything okay?” Peter’s voice asked. 

Y/N stared at her now-boyfriend, grabbing his hand in earnest, plastering a smile on her face. Pretending like her dad wasn’t still alive. Pretending that SHIELD hadn’t just confirmed that everything her father had said was true after testing her DNA for any traces of Aliens. 

They couldn’t even pinpoint where she was from. Just that her energy signature matched Thor’s. 

“Yeah,” She lied, “Everything’s fine.”

She leaned into Peter’s shoulder, her eye-catching MJ shuffling in next to Mr. Harrington and the other chaperone who had been converted to witchcraft over the course of the trip. 

“I uh, I have to do something,” Y/N told Peter, who saw where her eyes were. 

“Go ahead,” Peter encouraged, “I’ll uh, I’ll take one for the team.”

Y/N smiled widely, pecking Peter’s cheek while she approached Mr. Harrington.

“Um, Mr. Harrington?” She nervously caught her teacher’s attention. 

“Y/N!” He replied, “Is everything okay?”

She shared an apologetic look with Peter. “Actually no, I think Peter’s perfume allergies are acting up around me and I was wondering if I could sit next to MJ”

“Say no more” Harrington stood up immediately, taking Y/N’s former seat, allowing the girl to sit next to her best friend.

“Trouble in paradise?” MJ asked, pulling her earbuds out. 

Y/N smirked, “Actually, I just can’t stand him. Needed an excuse to get out of there” She joked, grateful this trip hadn’t ruined the one relationship that mattered to her.

MJ chuckled at the sarcastic humor, offering her dual port to the girl as a peace offering. Y/N took it.

“So which true-crime documentary do you wanna watch today?” MJ asked, scrolling through the movie options.”We got Gacey, Lizzie Borden, Ted Bundy,”

“Oh Bundy for sure” Y/N replied, leaning into the taller girl’s shoulder. “His whole case just proves why assholes shouldn’t be allowed in our legal system.”

MJ clicked on the movie and the two girls snuggled in as the plane took off. 

“Hey” MJ nudged her friend’s shoulder, Y/N perked up.”Do you think Peter would be able to give me a ride one of these days?”

Y/N shoved her best friend’s shoulder playfully, the two giggling as they made their way home.

Mid Credits

“Hey MJ!” Peter called, meeting the girl in her neighborhood. “Y/N told me you wanted a ride?” They swung from the highest buildings in New York, MJ’s screams as she free fell ringing through the atmosphere, Peter almost sure that THor could hear her back on Asgard.

They landed in Times Square, MJ’s hair frazzled and her eyes wide in fear. 

“Yeah, that settles it” She announced, “I am never doing that again.”

Peter chuckled involuntarily at the blushing teen, her hair wild and frizzy like Y/N’s got every time they went for a swing.

“Where is Y/N?” MJ asked, “I thought she was meeting us here for coffee”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck at the question. “She’s uh, she’s dealing with her dad’s stuff.”

The relationship between the two of them was still a bit of a sore spot between Y/N and Peter, especially since Mysterio tried to kill him only a few days ago. It helped that his girlfriend felt the same way he did about Mysterio, but the relation was still there. She still had to go to the funeral. She was still a part of that fucked up family.

His reverie was broken by the screen lighting up behind him. He turned around to see Quentin Beck’s face.

“I managed to send the elemental back through the dimensional rift but I don’t think I’ll get off this bridge alive” Beck rambled, “Spiderman attacked me for some reason, he–he has an army of weaponized drones, Stark Technology”

Peter shared a look with MJ, wishing Y/N was here instead to soothe his rising nerves.

“He’s saying he’s the one who’s going to be the next Iron Man, no one else” Beck continued, before the video cut to a clearly altered video snippet.

“Are you sure you want to commence the drone attack?” EDITH”s clean voice came in over the speakers, “There will be significant casualties”

“Do It” Peter’s own voice startled him. “Execute them all”

No, no, no, no, no. That was taken out of context. All of it was!

“There you have it folks” J Jonah Jameson spat, “Undeniable proof that Spiderman was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio. An interdimensional warrior sent to protect our planet along with his daughter, who has now become an orphan thanks to this menace.”

Peter shook his head. Please let Y/N refute this, let her take care of this. 

“But that’s not all folks, brace yourselves you may want to sit down.”

Peter watched as Mysterio released the most valuable information of Peter’s. He watched as Mysterio tore his life apart with six words.

“Spiderman’s real name is Peter Parker!”

His picture was posted all across the square, everyone knew who he was. Everyone.

“We have an exclusive interview with Y/N Beck aka Stasis commenting on her father’s death and her relation to the masked menace.” Jameson continued.

Peter watched as Y/N stood behind a podium, lawyers on her left, publicist on her right. Her black mourning dress was covered by a green velvet jacket, but when Peter squinted, he saw the sunflower adorning her neck and he knew that she was on his side.

“My father loved creating illusions” Y/N admitted, addressing the crowds of reporters. “He loved them so much he somehow managed to create the biggest one after his death. Spiderman did not kill my father, in fact, he is the only reason I lived through that traumatic experience. My father’s death was caused by his own carelessness, and while I want someone to blame more than anyone, Spiderman is not that person. My father’s last words were about how people want to believe. So let’s believe. This child is not a menace, nor is he the hero you assume he is. Spiderman has saved our lives countless times, let’s believe in him rather than videos that can be easily doctored, thank you”

As she left reporters began to hound her once again, her publicist shooing them away while Peter watched his life and his girlfriend’s life fall apart.

Post Credits

The prison stank of sweat and testosterone but that didn’t deter Quentin as he was escorted from his solitary cell to the visiting room. His orange jumpsuit was hideous and hardly comfortable, but he could ignore all of that. 

After six months, he was finally going to see his daughter again.

She looked older. Like somehow she had aged several years in his absence. Maybe she was miserable without her dad. Maybe she was here to help him with his case. Maybe she was here to bail him out. 

Her sunken eyes hardened at the sight of him, his smile never leaving his face as he gazed upon the girl that was his light, his life, the only reason he never went mad in this dull excuse for a secure prison.

“New Jacket?” Quentin asked pointing toward the teal that enwrapped her shoulders. 

‘I know what you did Dad” was all Y/N said in response. “I know what you did to Peter”

Quentin went silent at the boy’s name. 

He deserved it. He had ruined everything. He deserved to have his life torn apart like Quentin’s was.

“It’s not just his life that has been ruined” Y/N urged, eyebrows creasing, “I have reporters daily knocking on our doors, asking all about you and Spiderman.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen honey” Quentin leaned forward to grab her hand. She ripped it out again.

“Don’t call me that” Y/N spat. “You’ve interfered in my life long enough. Leave my friends alone or I will come in here and kill you myself.”

He scoffed. “You don’t have it in you. You said it yourself, You’ll never be like me. You can’t kill me”

His throat constricted, the blue energy surrounding his neck, squeezing his breath from his lungs.

“You forget,” Y/N threatened, anger lacing her eyes, “I inherited your temper. And we’re surrounded by SHIELD agents who wouldn’t care if I stole every last breath from you. So leave my friends alone, because love is like any other emotion daddy,” She taunted.

 “It. Fades.”

He regained his air back, breathing returning to his lungs like a drug addict to heroin. 

“Do we have an understanding?” Something dark swirled in the eyes of the girl he had raised. Something he had created. 

He nodded, the guards escorting him back to his cell, a new cellmate waiting for him.

“Hey, buddy” The grey-haired man offered his hand, “Adrian Toomes, nice to meet you.”

***

Y/N scanned the papers scattered across the table in her father’s old apartment. She officially got it in the ‘will’. It was hers now. Paid for and a home she can build for herself instead of the old musty church she had found months ago. 

She and her lawyers were currently working with Stark Industries to buildup her father’s company once again. It was all her idea. A great publicity stunt to show how much her father had respected the late hero, regardless of their rocky past. Unfortunately, that included hiring her as CEO, as well as repairing the shitshow that was their relationship with Spiderman.

Her chest constricted when she thought of Peter. Forced into hiding. Unable to even go to school. The last she had heard from him he was somewhere in Africa. Happy assured her that he was safe. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him and Aunt May. 

She really only had MJ and Ned now. And while Flash was treating her better, she really only wanted Peter with her. 

The wind fluttered behind her and she sighed, upset at MJ for leaving the window open again. As she turned around her eyes met green.

A slender woman stood in her living room, dressed head to toe in a green dress that looked like it belonged at a gala instead of a run-down apartment in New York City. 

“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms in an attempt to look intimidating.

“The names Lorelei sweetpea” The woman’s silky voice uttered, taking in every bit of the teen before her. “But you can call me Mum.”

AHHHH! That’s it! Thank you all so much for your kind comments and follows and likes and reblogs. This was my first time trying something like this and I loved it! I hoped you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Special thanks to:

@petersblake @editsbyjenny @kaylinfayezink @leilei-draws and @santa-feigh for being there since the beginning and commenting on almost every single post, reblogging always, and recommending me.

And a very special thanks to:

@thatsuperherosidekick for always liking my posts and never failing to enter my ask box and freak out with me about this story and everything about it.

For everyone who commented, liked, reblogged, or recommended, thank you so much and for everyone tagged, thank you. You guys kept me writing this and I’m so grateful to all of you. Hugs and kisses.

TAG LIST: CLOSED

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My next series will be a Steve Harrington x reader, but that won’t be out for a little while. If you want to be tagged in that, or if you want to request more Marvel imagines, please send me an ask or let me know! Once again, thank you all so much for your support. I couldn’t have done this without you guys.

[earthsmoodiestteenagers]

*Rolls Into The Endgame Tea 5 Mins. Late With(out) Starbucks*

Disclaimer: we have nothing against anyone who may disagree, everyone’s entitled to their opinion and we’re simply spilling ours

WHY THERE WERE NO REAL HEROES IN CIVIL WAR (EXCEPT T’CHALLA)

 Tony and Steve were both right AND wrong

Tony was right in that the Avengers needed restrictions, and Steve was right in that the government fucking sucks

The entire thing could’ve been solved with simple communication and it’s not fair to place the blame entirely on either party

Tony’s actions were fueled primarily by his guilt and Steve is just a stubborn son of a bitch who wanted to do what was right (and protect his buddy from the forties at all costs)

STEVE AND SHARON IS NOT/WASN’T INCEST

Before Endgame (which created a DIFFERENT timeline), Steve and Peggy were never really together, they kissed once, y’all are complaining about Steve “ruining her life” because of one lip lock but he also can’t move on and be with someone else (who just happens to be her niece), which he didn’t originally know about

Also y’all are justifying female Thor by saying it’s in the comics, but Steve and Sharon are in the comics too (no shade)

WHY TONY STARK WAS NOT A BAD FATHER FIGURE

I’m not saying recruiting him in Civil War was a good thing, but the writers wanted to introduce Spider-Man, and I think Tony knew the risks and decided that Peter would be fine

In Homecoming, Tony took away the suit because Peter was acting reckless, he didn’t want him to get himself killed, and he didn’t want him to make the same Patented Stark Mistakes

Peter is a fucking angel, but he needed to be a dumbass teenage boy before he could be Spider-Man

Also there’s a time lapse between that movie and Endgame in which Peter and Tony bonded, y’all antis are acting like Peter resents Tony (bitch w h e r e), and did those interactions during Infinity War and Endgame look anything like an unhealthy relationship

Our point is that Tony isn’t perfect but he’s still #1 Dad

WHY STEVE ROGERS AND BUCKY BARNES AREN’T IN LOVE (SORRY STUCKY SHIPPERS)

Do we support Steve being bi? Sure, but he ain’t gay for Bucky

“I’m with you ‘till the end of the line PAL”

The only love interests our blonde patriot has had (canonically), are both strong independent women, Bucky has had zero (unless you count that random chick at the expo, and Dolores)

They have been best friends since childhood, this does not always lead to undying love, or fucking

Have you seen Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie fighting over which of their characters gets Black Widow? Not to mention Winter Soldier and Black Widow were a thing in the comics

Bold of you to assume Steve Rogers didn’t ask Bucky to come with him before he time traveled, and Bucky said NO

Also bold of you to assume that Steve didn’t rescue the Bucky in the timeline he created

Steve deadass told Tony in Civil War “he’s my FRIEND”, to which Tony responded “so was I”

They’re brothers okay

You can’t compare Dark Phoenix’s Cherik to Endgame’s Stucky when Cherik always had subtext, we never were under the impression that Stucky was anywhere near becoming canon (if you ship it anyway, more power to you, to each their own)

WHY PROFESSOR HULK AND OLD STEVE WERE LAZY WRITING, BUT ALSO WHY IT DOESN’T MAKE STEVE A TERRIBLE PERSON

Professor Hulk was just weird but we don’t need to tell anybody that

It was the easy way to write off Bruce Banner and he deserved better than that, it could have at least gotten more foreshadowing

Old Steve erased all of the character development from movies past

Such as events leading through Winter Soldier, culminating to the end of Age of Ultron 

“I’m home”, he says to Tony, guess not

The man moved on only to look through some fucking blinds and end up right back at square one

BUT traveling to the forties to live his life with Peggy does not make him as much of an asshole as you think it does

As previously mentioned, I don’t believe Steve would leave the new timeline’s Bucky to be experimented on by Hydra, and I don’t believe he would leave Natasha in the Red Room either

Some of y’all don’t seem to understand that he didn’t change the original timeline, he made ANOTHER, in which he and Peggy were happily married (he didn’t steal anything from her)

In the new timeline, if Peggy’s former husband was Daniel Sousa, you could see this as the timeline in which he marries Violet (if you watched Agent Carter)

WHY THE DEATHS UNFORTUNATELY MADE SENSE EVEN THOUGH WE HATED THEM

If Tony had survived Endgame he just would’ve continued being called back in to fight (at least this way he finally got to take a nap)

He’s been struggling since the first Iron Man movie

It was a callback to the first Avengers where he wouldn’t lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over him

No matter what you people say he deserves the title of Godfather of the MCU

Black Widow’s death was also a callback because, in sacrificing herself for the soul stone, she finally felt as though she had wiped the red from her ledger

Instead of saving a man “no more virtuous than herself”, she saved half the fucking universe

Don’t @ us we love these characters a lot

[danvrsromanv]

Okay, here’s my writing

Note: Please give me some constructive criticism. And compliments if you want... It’s probably trash tho

I feel my veins pulsing in my arm and my face turning red. Looking at the person across from me, I give them a smirk. “You’re going down,” I cockily say. I apply more strength, pushing the other arm further down to their own side. Bam! The hand touches the bar table! “Haha! Yes! You owe me 10 bucks, man! I won fair and square,” I shout, slurring my words slightly. Cheers go around as the man hands me my money. “Why thank you,” I say, tipping an invisible cowboy hat. I fold the bill and tuck it into my jean pockets. 

Looking up again, there’s a woman with gorgeous, long hair staring down at me. Her brown hair almost touches the table and she’s like 5’11’’ at least. She doesn’t look familiar and it’s a small town, so I greet her with: “Heyo, pretty lady! I’m Carter Bell and welcome to Ripfort.” I stand up and stick my hand out. The lady looks at it, then at me, her purple eyes burning into my skull. It’s as if she can see everything about me. I keep a smile on my face, though I’m worrying that the lady isn’t human. If she isn’t, it technically is my job to kill her but…

The lady grabs my hand, shaking me out of my thoughts. “I’m Lilith,” she responds, an accent of what sounds like an ancient kingdom. Like Thor. “Lilith…” I repeat, giving the gorgeous possibly-demon-lady space to give me her last name. “Just Lilith, darling.” I nod. She’s definitely a demon. Great.

“Okay, Lilith,” I start, “whaddya doin’ here of all places? I mean, Ripfort isn’t exactly a tourist stop. At least according to Yelp.” She shrugs, letting go of my hand. Right… I was holding her hand the whole time. I kinda want it back. For a cold-blooded creature, she’s pretty warm. Never mind, she lives in hell so... “I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to experience something new,” she explains. I nod, a grin starting to spread on my face. 

“How ‘bout an arm wrestle? I bet 5 bucks I win,” I say. Lilith shrugs again. It’s actually really cute. “Sure, why not. I bet 5 bucks I win.” sit back down in my seat and place my arm on the table. She does the same and the once silent crowd cheers louder than ever. “Okay, 5 bucks are given if one wins for both. Arm wrestle between Lilith and Bell starting in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Go!” Eve, the bartender and my best friend, announces. Almost immediately, I can tell she’s not trying too hard. Granted, if she did, she wouldn’t just break my arm, she’d break my whole being. Well, at least she’s giving me a chance. I guess that’s nice… which is not normal. At all… they usually want to burn things. What is going on? I guess I should figure it out. Five more seconds and I’ll let her win.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1

I release my grip slightly, she would win eventually anyway. I feel the back of my hand hit the table with a smack only a little softer than the one dude I faced before hit. “Well, it looks like you won, Miss.” I hand her 5 bucks and stand up, once again offering my hand. She takes it without hesitation this time along with the money and pulls me close. 

“I know you loosened up. What a gentlewoman,” she whispers. Being a good 4 inches shorter I look up at her, feeling a shiver-- a real good one though-- run through my spine. I feel my cheeks heat up, but I manage to smile back. Pulling away, she says, “I’ll bring you the rings soon, darling. Maybe the next time we meet.” She turns around and exits the bar, leaving me standing and staring at where she was a second ago. “I… Wow,” I mumble to myself. I shake it off and head to Eve. 

“Y-You noticed she was a demon, right?” I ask her. The blond just nods. “I also noticed that the second she pulled you close you went from having a top-vibe to having a really strong bottom-vibe,” she says with a smirk. I blush at her statement but don’t actually acknowledge it. “Why didn’t she burn the town then? Isn’t that the only thing demons do? Burn and kill?” Once again, Eve nods. “Evelyn Taylor Smith, answer me this one question: why didn’t she burn down Ripfort? It’s not like New York, no one would notice. Ya know, other than the people in Ripfort,” I add. “And why did she mention rings?”

“That’s two questions, but you know what they say, right? Once a demon meets a person who makes them feel something beyond the desire to burn everything to the ground, they should present two rings that will bind their souls together for all eternity.”

“... Sounds pretty extra to me.”

“Yeah, but it’s romantic.”

“But we just met, how… why?” I stammer.“Well, love for Demons is different. They can tell what their relationships are going to be like, so they really only have one significant other,” Eve explains. “And Lilith thinks that that person is me?”

“She doesn’t think, she knows.”

“Okay, let me make this clear. I’m destined to fall in love with the one species I was told to kill?” I ask, my voice going up an octave as I speak. My friend nods her head, a smirk on her face. “Great. Splendid. Amazing,” I exclaim, a high, squeaky voice taking the place of my normal one. “What the fuck am I gonna do?!” Eve looks at me as if I had a dick growing out of my forehead. “Whaddya mean what are you gonna do? You’re not going to do anything different. It’s not like your destiny is gonna change, hun.” I groan. “Why couldn’t I kick the beautiful lady out of the bar,” I moan. Evelyn just laughs. “Wow, it’s so bad that you’re going to fall in love with a complete hottie,” she replies. “Sarcasm noticed, Eve. Thanks. You’re going to be a big help.” The girl just smiles cheekily at me and I roll my eyes playfully in response.

“But for real, I’m gonna get fired from the most illegal job in the world. Then I’ll be completely broke and I won’t be able to repay my debt to this town,” I sigh. Eve softens as she sighs along with me. She wraps me in a hug and I sink into it. “I know, babe, I know. But honestly, I think the town has forgiven you. I mean, they all love you here at Chubby’s.”

“Yeah, but Chubby’s is full of misfits. I don’t know about the rest of the town. I mean, I did bring the supernatural to this formerly quiet town. Now everyone lives in fear.”

“That wasn’t actually your fault, you know that right?” Eve comforts. I face her with a look that says ‘I’m pretty sure it was’. “It wasn’t. You were four. You could barely form memories, much less plan the destruction of Ripfort,” the blond reassures.“Then why do I feel like it’s my fault?”

“Because you put too much pressure on yourself, hun. Nobody blames you anymore,” Eve says. “Except for that one asshole, Todd,  but he hates everyone,” she adds with a chuckle. I nod sluggishly. “I guess you’re right.” My best friend nods curtly. “I know I am, it’s me.” I chuckle lightly.

“Thanks, Smith. You know how to make me feel better.” I smile.

“No problem, Bell. You’d do the same.” She smiles back. We separate and she gets back to work, leaving me on the couch behind the bar. My grin gets bigger as I see Eve talking to the customers. I really do love the tiny bartender. I sigh in relief, pushing the whole demon-lady-in-love-with-me problem to the back of my mind. I’ll just focus on what I have right now. A supportive friend and--

“Drinks!” 

The voice is loud and deep, and there’s a familiarity to it. I stand up off the couch and walk out in front of the bar. I stand on my tip-toes and squint past the crowd of people near the person the voice belongs to. “Mike?” I ask aloud. Suddenly, the talking stops as the crowd splits, revealing my brother. “Hey, little bell!” he replies. My mouth dries up at the nickname. “I-- How-- You were dead,” I mutter. “H-how are you here?” My brother’s eyes cloud slightly at the mention of death. “Yeah, mom tried to kill me but didn’t manage. She waited too long, should’ve killed me before I was bigger than her. But how are you, sis? I haven’t seen you since you were about yay tall,” he says with a warm grin, showing my height only 3 feet above the ground. I feel my eyes start to tear up. “You were dead,” I say again. “I didn’t have a brother for 16 years of my life. I-I had to grow up without you. And now you’re here and--” I don’t finish before I start bawling. I can feel myself fall to the ground but I continue to focus on the tears streaming down my face. I hear Mike walk towards me and kneel down. I feel strong arms wrap around me and I sink into the second hug of the night. “I’m sorry, little bell. I know I wasn’t here to see you growing up, but I’m here now. And I’m here to stay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” I take a deep breath and hiccup a little, because of the tears or alcohol, I don’t know. All I know is that I want to stay like this forever.

[flatstarcarcosa]

extremely detailed character meme (Van, ships: right on target and far from any road)

found this on my dash and i thought i’d fill it in! under a cut b/c it is REALLY detailed! some of the questions don’t apply for me, and i tried to make it easy to tell which ship i’m referring too b/c some things are different here and there 

Character Chart Character’s full name: Van (pronounced vaughn, rhymes with fawn) Miller Reason or meaning of name: None  Character’s nickname: None, aside from petnames Reason for nickname: None Birth date: for ship: right on target: 10/03/1990 for ship: far from any road: 10/03/1970  Physical appearance Age: ship: right on target: 29\ ship: far from any road: 24 in 95, 30 in 02, 40 in 2012 How old do they appear: Perpetually babyfaced. So about 15 or so until they hit their mid 30′s Weight: honestly i don’t know Height: 5′2 (look what’s the point of a self insert if i can’t achieve my dream of being at least five foot tall all right) Body build: stronk.  Shape of face: square ish?  Eye color: grey Glasses or contacts: glasses, doesn’t like them unless they’re sunglasses though, prefers to squint and look like a hamster  Skin tone: pale/sickly at times, tan if they’ve been in the sun, but still very white  Distinguishing marks: pointy canines  Predominant features: nothing really sticks out, van’s physical features are pretty normal Hair color: naturally a muted blonde. prone to dying it a bright yellow in 95 and 02 for ship: far from any road. dyed black for ship: right on target Type of hair: straight Hairstyle: fluffy, over hair sprayed mullet ponytail thing for ‘95, ‘02 has a less hair band style looking thing but still pretty punky, ‘12 Van has what i call the ‘business undercut’ (far from any road). also just a normal, kind of spiky undercut for (right on target) Voice: i dont know how to answer this?  Overall attractiveness: this is just a bad question  Physical disabilities: I’m gonna break this one down because one thing i love about my self inserts is modifying my own, actual disabilities a bit so: far from any road: van has kidney and bladder problems that get progressively worse as time goes on, and undiagnosed celiac disease. because of a severe motorcycle accident in ‘89 they also have a weak/bum leg that is prone at times to flaring up with pain and instability with no warning. after a second motorcycle accident in ‘95, these things get a lot worse. by the time ‘12 rolls around van resigns themself to having traded in their bike years earlier for an actual car and using a cane. they’re not happy about it.  right on target: same kidney/bladder/digestive issues. bum leg is a side effect of general chronic pain caused by it. their leg has a habit of still going out at random, and despite needing a cane sometimes they refuse to use it. lester always keep an eye out in case their leg is about to collapse under them. he’s grabbed them many times to keep them from hitting the ground.  Usual fashion of dress: dark, leather, jeans, punky looking things.  Favorite outfit: leather jacket, motorcycle boots even if they’re not riding, jeans.  Jewelry or accessories: big clunky silver rings. right on target!van has a solid black metal band on their left thumb that matches one lester has.

Personality Good personality traits: tries to be kind, tries to make things better for others at the expense of themself, funny, loves animals,  Bad personality traits: addiction problems, quick temper, far from any road!van likes to hustle people at bars and get into bar fights but usually only if they’ve been provoked  Mood character is most often in: it cycles a lot, so  Sense of humor: good? this is a vague question  Character’s greatest joy in life: photography, making people laugh, alone time Character’s greatest fear: death, being in poverty again/being stuck in poverty,  Why? being poor is Not Fun What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? far from any road: something happening to rust. they don’t realize at it first but he’s become their grounding agent, and without him there to balance them out they would not fare well.  right on target: lester’s brief stint of being fucking dead and murdered on TV wasn’t a good time.  Character is most at ease when: it’s cold and rainy out and they have an excuse to stay in bed and snooze.  Most ill at ease when: surrounded by too many people and too many noises. Enraged when: hhhhhhhhhhhhh often? the worst they get is in ‘95 when marty makes a few jabs at their trauma and they beat him bloody before rust pulls them off him.  Depressed or sad when: also often, sometimes for no reason. thats kind of what clinical depression is. Priorities: money. taking care of themself with it in order to be able to help others. Life philosophy: sometimes you don’t have to be great, you can just be okay.  If granted one wish, it would be: ability to change gender/sex characteristics at will. Why? it’s the transgenderism (i use that word satirically and as a joke, for those that don’t know that’s a te]]]rf dogwhistle in other situations, a lot of trans people have taken it back)  Character’s soft spot: their pets and the fact that being a raging asshole is a front they have to actively work at. Is this soft spot obvious to others? depends on the person. to rust? yes. to lester? not as much.  Greatest strength: refusal to give up. Greatest vulnerability or weakness: raging asshole disease and the addiction issues. Biggest regret: developing addiction issues.   Minor regret: it also cycles like their moods. Biggest accomplishment: far from any road: got a bachelor’s degree in sociology before deciding to get into journalism.  right on target: ??? van doesn’t feel accomplished. lester is trying to encourage them at going to college but he’s not very good at it.  Minor accomplishment: “not fucking dead yet, assholes”  Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: far from any road: van was never able to find out who it was in the south texas area that was targeting members of the LGBT community, that’s the whole reason they ended up with the crusaders and met rust, they had reason to believe it was someone connected to the gang. despite help from rust, the investigation went nowhere and all they have is a half finished expose.  right on target: they didn’t try to leave an abusive situation sooner. Why? see above Character’s darkest secret: i? don’t know??   Does anyone else know? N/A Goals Drives and motivations: just live the best they can Immediate goals: not die Long term goals: not die, perhaps be less of an alcoholic  How the character plans to accomplish these goals: slowly?  How other characters will be affected: they help.  Past Hometown: --- Type of childhood: traumatic Pets: dogs, frogs, turtles, hamsters First memory: ---- Most important childhood memory: ----  Why:  ------ Childhood hero:------ Dream job: ------ Education: bachelor’s degree for far from any road, GED for right on target Religion: atheistic but understanding and accepting of others Finances: far from any road: not fucking superb, hence the side hustles. right on target: poor  Present Current location: far from any road: Louisiana, i don’t remember TD ever stating where at aside from in the sticks right on target: NYC  Currently living with: rust or lester  Pets: far from any road is various pets at various times, right on target is initially just the doggo. Religion: still the same  Occupation: hustler slash freelance journalist for far from any road, unemployed for right on target Finances: better by 2012 (far from any road) thanks to a boring but stable office job, and for right on target they have lester’s money now and even lester doesn’t know how much he has aside from “a lot”. Family Mother: ------- Relationship with her: nonexistent    Father: Bastard Sr. Relationship with him: nonexistent.  Siblings: sister, older Relationship with them: non existent Spouse: rust/lester Relationship with him/her: i mean in both settings it’s a long term (rust right at around 20 years if you count their time in the crusaders initially, lester about 7 years) so, good if complicated at times Children:  no Relationship with them: none Other important family members: none  Favorites Color: purple, green, black Least favorite color: red Music: prog rock Food: pizza, waffles, hash browns, cereal  Literature: lots! really, its across all genres Form of entertainment: viddy gaems Expressions: what?  Mode of transportation: motorcycle or car  Most prized possession: also motorcycle or car Habits Hobbies: viddy gaemz, photography, sketch comedy  Plays a musical instrument? nah Plays a sport? is pool a sport?  How he/she would spend a rainy day: cozy in bed, s***ing some d***  Spending habits: they are fucking cheap as fuck whether they have money or not Smokes: yes, they say they’re planning to quit but [thor voice] is he though  Drinks: yes, it’s the alcoholism  Other drugs: pills mostly. to be fair they do HAVE to have a lot of meds because of chronic illness but they do love them some benzos  What does he/she do too much of? drinks, sleeps, smokes What does he/she do too little of? healthy food, exercise  Extremely skilled at: hustling. that works in both setting because with rust they learned it themself, with lester he taught them. also, writing.  Extremely unskilled at: art, socialising with people  Nervous tics: knuckle cracking,  Usual body posture: crosses arms a lot  Mannerisms: ???? Peculiarities: ????? Traits Optimist or pessimist? pessimist  Introvert or extrovert? introvert  Daredevil or cautious? cautious  Logical or emotional? both actually, it’s not fun Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? disorderly and messy, clashes with rust’s methodical and neat Prefers working or relaxing? relaxing  Confident or unsure of himself/herself? switches rapidly between both  Animal lover? yes Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: bad.  One word the character would use to describe self: asshole  One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: no good alcoholic junkie with a shitty temper, a shittier outlook and few skills or worth to bring to the table except a raging selfish streak What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? sense of humor  What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? temper  What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? thicc What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? crippled How does the character think others perceive him/her: badly,  What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: alcoholism  Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: they try to be cordial, unless they’re in traffic, in which case it’s fuck you and your fucking mother you stupid fucking motherfucker  Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? yes Person character most hates: [redacted]  Best friend(s): @dadbodsandbots is p much hanging out somewhere in every setting  Love interest(s): rust and lester  Person character goes to for advice: they don’t, that requires enough vulnerability to admit there’s a problem Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: also rust and lester Person character feels shy or awkward around: van is very uncomfortable around marty most of the time, he reminds them of their father. it smooths out as time goes on, but still. also when lester was stuck with the DA, they didn’t like daken at first  Person character openly admires: ehh? Person character secretly admires: ehh?  Most important person in character’s life before story starts: ehh?  After story starts: ehh? 

found here

[orderoftheavengers]

The Other Guy 

BRUTUS “BRUCE” BANNER 

Summary: Ilvermorny potions prodigy, turned giant green werewolf.

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent

Species: Human, werewolf (unique, potion-created breed) Blood status: Muggle-born

Wand: Womping Willow wood, 15 inches, unicorn tail hair

Broom: Tinderblast (not the fastest, but the most durable)

Familiar: Cute little barn owl named Ruffalo/Ruffles

Specialty: Potions

Patronus: Brown Bear

A New Kind of Werewolf

When Brutus "Bruce" Banner was in his first year at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was taking potions class with the sixth years. His house was Horned Serpent, the egghead house. He was dating Zarabeth "Betty" Ross, of Thunderbird (the "warrior" house), daughter of auror Thaddeus Ross. For his final project of his first year, Bruce was working on an assignment that involved creating a potion that would grant the drinker some impressive powers. Wanting to go above and beyond, Bruce tried to re-create the super-auror serum that had resulted in Steve "the Captain" Rodgers.

Now, mixing the saliva of a werewolf and the blood of a troll into the Polyjuice potion, adding a dash of Doxy venom, a few hairs from a Metamorphmagus, and dropping in a dragon scale to finish it off, and then testing this concoction on yourself probably doesn't sound like a very Horned Serpent or Ravenclaw thing to do. But for an eleven-year-old, Bruce was showing some stunning genius, and took more precautions than most first years in his place would've.

Still, the results were catastrophic. And green. And furry.

On the Run 

Thaddeus Ross became obsessed with "containing" the "monster," or worse. (Which is obviously kind of fucked up, since Bruce was still not even twelve yet.) Obviously the Ministry of Magic wasn't going to let Thaddeus kill a kid, but even they couldn't completely control the overzealous auror.  Thaddeus's daughter Betty helped Bruce flee Ivermorny. Bruce tried hiding out in some magical communities at first, but soon discovered that the more magic there was around him, the more likely he was to lose control. Maybe it was physical contact with extra magic that made the wolf harder to control, or maybe it was just the stress of being in a community where everyone knew what he was. But in any case, Bruce fled the wizarding world, and lived among muggles in various foreign countries, usually in the sketchiest parts of the cities. A muggleborn, Bruce was already somewhat estranged from his parents, and didn't feel much loss in cutting contact with them.

While hiding out in a muggle favela in Brazil, he kept regular owl-contact with a mysterious pen-pal who went by "Professor Blue," who helped Bruce come up with temporary antidotes for his condition. The now twelve-year-old wizard supported himself mixing colorful paints for those kickass favela buildings, and made a few friends. His next-door-and-one-square-up neighbor was a snake who apparently knew Harry Potter. (Communication between Bruce and his scaly neighbor was limited though, as Bruce didn't speak Parselmouth and the Snake could barely write in Portuguese.) Thaddeus eventually found Bruce, and rode into battle astride a Portugues Longsnout. The dragon's flames however had no affect on the giant green werwolf. Fortunately, no muggles were hurt in the battle, except a group of drug lords who'd just assumed they were hallucinating and didn't get out of the way. Bruce fled into the rain-forest, where he transformed back into a human. He wandered alone for a while until he happened on a friendly chuppacabra that agreed to give him a lift. The chuppacabra didn't speak Protuguese, but told Bruce in Spanish that he wasn't in Brazil anymore. Figuring hiding out wasn't working, Bruce decided to go back to Ivelmorny where most of his old research was, and continue working on a cure. The chuppacabra gave Bruce a ride all the way back to the States, stopping for a few portions of goat for lunch along the way. Bruce reunited with Betty, and together they traveled overseas to Hogwarts to meet "Professor Blue." How did Bruce figure that was where Blue would be? Well in all his letters he kept mentioning "tea" and "ugly Christmas jumpers," and regularly had to be reminded that the asshole chasing Bruce was not a "Slytherin." When they finally met, Blue--actually a forth year named Samuel Sterns--was very disappointed to learn his cover had been blown so easily. (It appears that while Ravenclaws are usually brilliant in some areas, a lot of them lack some ingenuity outside the lab.) While the three worked on finding a cure for Bruce, the Sorting Hat dropped by to inform Betty that she was a Gryffindor, and Bruce a Ravenclaw. (Betty had a mind for science yes, but that was overriden by the courage and fortitude she'd inherited from her homicidally brave father; it takes a Gryffindor to go after a Hulk, and an even bigger Gryffindor to love one.)

Ross caught up to them again, now with a Chinese Fireball. A massive battle ensued all over Hogwarts' grounds. While on his defensive rampage, Wolf-Hulk wound up toppling a few castle towers, uprooting the Whomping Willow, and flinging the Giant Squid through the wall of the Great Hall (insert sushi joke). The Quidditch pitch was also pretty much decimated. This was not a good day for groundskeeper Argus Filch. The battle finally ended when Professor Neville Longbottom (now teaching herbology) announced via microphone-wand-spell that if Thaddeus didn't break off his attack ASAP, he'd call the Ministry on him and he'd have all of his medals and mustache confiscated indefinitely. The Ministry of Magic had arrived by then, and took Betty and Bruce into custody.

Unbeknown to our heroes, a neighbor back at the favela named Emil Blonsky had witnessed Bruce transform into "the incredible green furry," and was overcome with awe and envy. He tracked the heroes to Hogwarts, and cornered Sterns in his lab, demanding the Ravenclaw transform him into a badass like Bruce. Sterns immediately replied, "Holy balls, you look JUST like that guy from 'Four Roo--'" Blonsky's hand around his throat cut him off. Sterns reluctantly agreed to inject Blonsky with Bruce's blood, and then ran for cover (all the way down to the dungeons, past some Slytherins entering thier common room, and diving under a green-and-silver sofa where Tony Stark was reading a dirty "Veela" magazine).

Blonsky transformed not into a green wolf-ogre, but instead, an orange ogre-troll. He bellowed, "I AM ABOMINATION BITCHES!!!!" to the un-phased Hogwarts populace (who witnessed stuff like this every other week), and then promptly began smashing down the towers, Quidditch stadium and Whomping Willow that Argus Filch had just finally finished repairing.

Everyone in Hogwarst was quickly evacuated to Hogsmeade, so Bruce could smash-fight Abomination without worrying too much about collateral damage. Betty however secretly stayed behind, and at the end of the battle, begged Bruce not to kill Abomination.

"Bruce please, he's already died in 'Reservoir Dogs'..."

"Huh?"

"I AM NOT TIM ROTH!"

Bruce punched Blonsky, shutting him up.</b>

The Ministry of Magic quickly arrived to the scene and transformed Blonsky/Abomination into a ferret, before taking him into custody. Ross was about to order his dragon to blast another fireball at the Hulk-Wolf; but seeing human Bruce hugging his daughter, Ross finally admitted to himself, "Maybe there is something a little bit wrong with trying to kill or arrest a twelve-year-old..." The Ministry still wanted Bruce in custody though, and Bruce was forced to flee again after bidding Betty a tear-jerker farewell. After the credits, Thaddeus then went to the Three Broomsticks to get drunk and smoke a cigar; Tony Stark attempted to make a cameo, but didn't get one sentence out before Rosmerta noticed the firwewisky margarita in the underage Slytherin student's hand, and chucked him out.

Order of the Avengers

Bruce went back to hiding out amongst muggles, this time in Asia. The stress of trying to keep the wolf repressed resulted in half a head of gray hair before the poor little wizard was old enough to be bar-mitzvahed. Things got so low that at one point, he stood before a mirror and attempted to cast Avada Kadavara on himself. The "other guy" spit the green death-blast out (incinerating a nearby adult video store and causing a mass UFO conspiracy in the area). So he got passed his depression, and moved on by helping people. He used his magic to cure diseases for sick muggles in the slums of the third world, ignoring the Ministry's rules completely. Then one day, a redhead confronted him with a wand, and introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff. She wasn't here to kill him. She was here to recruit him for the Order of the Avengers. The program was at Hogwarts, so he'd have to go back to school; but at least it wouldn't be the school where his accident had happened, with all the bad memories. Bruce finally gave in, and began classes as a third-year Ravenclaw. Bruce contributed both brains and brawn to the Order, and became "potions bros" with Tony Stark. Bruce learned the hard way that while Ravenclaws and Slytherins make great lab partners, the latter can be a very bad influence on the former. If Bruce had a knut for every time Tony talked him into some experiment that backfired on them, he'd be richer than Harry Potter.

Bruce's other closest friend was fellow Ravenclaw Natasha, who had once been brainwashed by Death Eaters. She and Bruce bonded over the fact that at heart, they're both Ravenclaws, but have been transformed into some kind of monster or another against their will. They began dating, but no one's sure if they're still a thing, or if it was just a fling.

Detention With the Grand Master

In his final year at Hogwarts, Bruce, along with Thor, had to miss out on the epic illegal Quidditch match the other Avengers arranged. (Fortunately, it sounds like Thor and Bruce didn’t miss much, as the whole “civil war” game was less of a “deep clash of ideals” than a “drunken brawl fueled by Idiot Balls.”)

Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. Actually, most of the Avengers were behind in that class. But when Professor Masters--AKA “the Grand Master”--assigned all the failures to detention in the Dark Forrest, Bruce was the only one studious enough, and Thor the only one concerned with his fighting skills enough, to obediently attend their detention instead of playing Quidditch.

In detention, the Grand Master--Hogwarts’ latest eccentric D.A.D.A. professor--forced various badass students to duel each other, for cheering crowds of cheering centaurs, unicorns, merfolk, and other strange creatures. And while wearing ridiculously fruity gladiator outfits. (And the Grand Master’s henchmen will tell you, forcing a giant green wolf into Roman armor is no cakewalk.) Bruce and Thor had an epic duel, before the werewolf noticed Loki, and made like a pooch chasing a screaming, squealing car.

But the group wound up having to play Hooky after all, with Thor’s homeland at stake. Bruce helped Thor and Loki defeat their evil half-sister Hela, and almost caught himself a break....

As if.

Waning Powers

A regular werewolf will change with the moon no matter what. But Bruce was no regular werewolf. The potion that had transformed him had contained hairs from not only werewolves, but Metamorphmagi as well. And those who knew Nymphadora Tonks know that a Metamorphmagus’s powers can be affected by their mood.

Thanos gave the green wolf such a frightening beating, that the “monster” refused to “come out” afterwards, even when Bruce desperately needed him to. Thus, Bruce was forced to fight like a boring regular wizard, on a broom with a wand. Green asshole.

But after Thanos’s Dusting Curse murders half of Bruce’s friends, and half the universe he’d worked so hard to redeem himself by protecting, the wolf returned full-force...

Professor Wolf

With help from Tony and Shuri, and his own Ravenclaw cleverness, Bruce finally found a way to make peace with “the other guy.” He now walked around in the form of a furry green humanoid, taking the name “Professor Wolf.” Since Thanos’s curse and following tyrannical rule exposed the magical world to the Mugggles, Professor Wolf gained some new Muggle fangirls, mainly from the segments of Muggledom that frequented DeviantArt and Fur Affinity.

Time Travel

Deep in Snape’s old Potions dungeon, Tony, Bruce, Rocket, and Shuri–who was not Dusted!–all get together to brainstorm how to use the Spirit Realm for Time Travel (since Thanos destroyed all the Time Turners). 

The four geniuses exchange ingenuity and banter, and it is brilliant. Rocket, a niffler, is enamored with Tony’s chest amulet, and steals it, causing some health problems for Tony. This angers Professor Wolf, who chases the niffler/raccoon hybrid around the lab until he catches him and makes him into a violent chew toy. 

Shuri snags Rocket from the Wolf, and the amulet from Rocket. Struck with inspiration, the Wakandan princess makes some adjustments to the amulet, to Tony’s embarrassment and begrudging awe. This leads to a “eureka!” moment for the four of them, in regards to the Time Travel problem, and they finally get it solved.

Ravenclaw to Ravenclaw

Bruce gets the Time Stone from fellow a Ravenclaw, the Ancient One. Not battle or trickery is needed for this one; just honest, Ravencalw-to-Ravenclaw reasoning. When Bruce tells her about Strange sacrificing the Time Stone to save Tony, she realizes what this must mean, and hands the Stone over to Bruce.

After losing the Ravenclaw closest to him--Natasha Romanoff--Bruce is as devastated as Clint.  Professor Wolf roars, and tosses a bench into the lake. The kids sitting on the bench, Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, barely react, as they too were close with Nat and are mourning her. Even the Giant Squid is too sad to be bothered by the littering of his lake.

But later, when Bruce is fighting Thanos in the final battle, something extraordinary happens...

Bruce and the Wolf fight Thanos once more, now together, and wielding the red Infinity Wand. Professor Wolf is struggling to simply turn Thanos and his minions to dust, but it’s one Infinity Wand up against another. As the two Infinity Wands blast against each other, a light begins to glow in the middle of the two spells. Bruce suddenly hears a familiar voice, half in his head. “Bruce, give someone else a turn.” Natasha–or a ghostly version of her–is emerging from the middle of the two Infinity Wands’ spells. “Priori Incantatem!” shouts Shuri, from her blue-and-silver panther broom. “Or something like it! Two sets of Infinity Stones blasting against each other, their past spells are regurgitating!” The moment of shock distracts Bruce long enough for Thanos to blast him to the ground. The grape bastard is about to pick up the other Infinity Wand, but spirit-Nat delivers a kick to his face. It’s not a huge amount of damage–she only has the typical strength of a very angry poltergeist–but it buys enough time for Spidey to swing by and snag up the wand with his web, and the battle continues...

Epilogue

Bruce, Sam and Bucky have a brief scare, when it seems that Steve has massacred the timeline for personal gain; but this false Steve turns out to be only a Boggart. The real Steve has returned just a few minutes after schedule, and has only made one tiny change to the timeline; saving Nat. 

Professor Wolf is now in the dungeons of Hogwarts, teaching Potions. Bruce can alternate between any of his three forms at will, and actually tends to teach in his boring, adorkable human form (with only the green tail).

Wand, broom, etc. Ollivander has crafted for Bruce a wand from a branch of the Whomping Willow, the only wood green-Bruce can't instantly snap in half. It contains a unicorn hair. Bruce's broom is a Tinderblast; though not as fast as some other models, it's highly resilient, so Bruce can ride it even if he transforms. Bruce's Patronus is a bear (all Patronuses are silver, so Black, Brown, or Polar isn't really a factor here). His specialty, obviously, is potions--his initial first-year accident notwithstanding.   A/N: Bruce was blessedly easy to sort, draw, and write a Potter AU for. Tony and Dr. Strange are too overflowing with Slytherin-style heroism for me to let them go to waste as Ravenclaws, just because they happen to be geniuses. Bruce on the other hand, his personality and powers really do revolve around his mind--even his Hulk related ones.f

[miobambiino]

‘Pass Me By’

A bit like a 'five time plus one time' fic, wherein Tony surprises Steve unintentionally, except its four times, and there isn't a 'plus one time he didn't' bit, so, not really.

Tony was kind of an unpredictable guy.

Well, ‘kind of’ was an understatement. He was also, as Rhodey put it, really fucking weird.

When Steve first met the man, he was fooled by the charismatic demeanour he threw over all of their eyes; but after living with the guy for a few months and seeing his guard slowly lower down, he let his quirks show.

So as unpredictable as the guy was, they had come to be able to predict that he would do unexpected things.

The Captain didn’t expect, however, for Tony to march past a swarm of SHIELD agents, shoulder between Sam and Clint, and punch him square in the face.

“What the fuck, Cap?!”

Steve stood stock still, blinking a few times and noting that his upper lip was now wet. Bringing his hand up he dabbed away the blood trickling from his nose.

“Mister Stark,” came Fury’s steady voice as he parted between the agents, making a quick gesture with his hand to dismiss them from the room.

“You!” Tony accused, jabbing a finger towards Fury, who remained patient, “You said he was killed-!”

“It was necessary, only myself, agent Romanoff and Barnes could know Captain Rogers’ status. We were tracing a serial killer,” he addressed the whole team now, who – Nat and Bucky – who were in various stages of shock, relief, and anger.

“The only way Cap could get close enough is if the guy thought he was dead,” Bucky tried to explain.

“That makes no sense,” Bruce cut in, clearly frustrated but keeping a lid on it – unlike Tony, who was wide-eyed and practically seething, “why did he need to think Steve was dead, why not tell us?”

Fury exchanged a look between Barnes, when Natasha piped up.

“Because the killer was focused on us,” she explained, “A super-enhanced being, and a psychopath… he wanted us to suffer. Remember the first real lead we got, it was right after he made Bruce hulk out,”

“He gets off on causing us emotional distress basically,” Bucky supplied, shrugging at the exasperated look from Steve. The soldier cast a look at Tony, who was breathing heavily through his nose.

“Essentially, yes,” Nat agreed, “so naturally, when he shot Steve-”

“Wait, that wasn’t part of this…this bullshit-lie, you were shot-?!”

Steve held out his palm towards Tony, as if trying to soothe a wild animal, “Hey, it barely clipped me, but-”

“The psycho assumed he got him, so we rolled with it, staged the fake private-funeral, and the guy came out of hiding – he gets cocky when he gets the outcome he wants from us,”

“Ah,” Wanda said, much calmer than the others – she never read any of their thought without asking, she had enough control, but that didn’t stop her getting a feel for their emotions. Bucky hadn’t even been upset when he broke the news to them. She must have sensed it wasn’t quite the case, but she never mentioned it. “So that’s why you were ‘holding off’ telling the media, because you didn’t want to have to go through the press,”

“Exactly,” Bucky huffed, “didn’t wanna deal with that shit,”

“Did you not trust us to know?” Thor asked, his normal jubilant tone subdued. Steve deflated, and looked at the faces of his team.

Wanda was the least shaken by the ordeal, but the tight purse of her lips indicated her displeasure at putting her friends, her family, through such pain. Sam had accepted Steve back with open arms, forgiving him instantly. Clint understood the need to do what they did, but the tension in his shoulders read that he wasn’t happy about it. Thor had gripped him in a bear-hug, but seemed put-out by the fact they were left in the dark about Steve’s ‘murder’. Bruce was mad, felt hurt, but was focusing most of his efforts on calming Tony down, as was Rhodey.

Tony, aside from decking the guy, was shaking with anger; eyes glossed over and knuckles white.

“The guy needed to see us – the team – genuinely hurt, to believe it,” Nat said gently, “otherwise he’d never of bought it, never would have poked his head up from the sand and gave us the chance we needed – a killer would still be on the streets if we didn’t… another body could have been on our hands,”

That seemed to ease the stiffness from the others, and they came forward to check their leader over, Thor pulling him into a much warmer embrace, followed by Sam, Clint, and Bruce.

Wanda hung back with Tony, casting a concerned look at the dishevelled brunette, who didn’t look too comforted.

Later, Tony sat cross-legged on the conference table, staring out at the sky-line from the Helicarrier. The room was empty save the genius, who decided to skip out on the debriefings. No one had tried to stop him. He stayed in the room, sat in the dark, not bothering to turn on the lights. He wanted to look out at the stars.

“Thought I’d find you here,”

Tony bristled at the new voice, shifting in his spot.

Steve sighed, stepping further into the room until he was leant against the table, Tony pointedly not looking at him.

“Everyone else seems to have forgiven me now,” Steve sighed, twiddling his fingers together, casting a cautious look at the other man.

Tony wet his lips, and cleared the lump in his throat with a small cough before speaking.

“You… you let me think you were dead, Steve, I…”

“I know, Tony, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tony spoke barely above a whisper, and Steve’s heart clenched painfully.

“I wanted to, Tony, God… I wanted you to know so badly but…”

“But what?” Tony snapped, causing Steve to flinch inwardly.

“They, they said it needed to be genuine-”

“But why not tell me, Steve, just… God, I sound so fucking selfish but, why, why couldn’t you tell me-?”

“Because! Because… they,” he rubbed a hand over his face, flustered, before sighing in defeat. “Because they said you’d give the most genuine and… and satisfying reaction… for the killer. That way, he was more likely to come out to gloat… and then we’d have a shot at getting the guy, which we did-!”

Tony had gone stock still, eyes wide and sad.

“You, uh… you know?” he asked incredulously, though his voice was quiet.

Steve knew the way Tony felt about him. Hell, Natasha and Fury knew too; Steve had only found that out when the director himself insisted Tony not know the truth, since they were bound to get a reaction from him Nabokov – the killer – wanted.

Nabokov had been an agent inside of SHIELD, had access to security footage from every facility, including any places the team chose to grieve. SHIELD had let him watch, lured him out of the shadows just to gloat.

It was because they knew how Tony felt that it was such a shock when he ploughed a fist into the Captain’s nose.

It tore Steve apart to do this to his friend, his best friend. But it was necessary.

Steve wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself that Tony’s laugh sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach, blossoming warmth into his bones. God, he was such a coward. Letting Tony think that… that he didn’t feel the same damn way. But he just wasn’t ready.

“Yeah,” Steve said, voice raw and painful, “I know, Tony,”

With that, Tony nodded curtly, slid off the table, and left.

Steve let him, self-loathing oozing into his gut as he let the man he loved cared for walk away.

A month later, and Tony and Steve were back to talking as usual. Sometimes Tony joked about his feelings for Steve, brushed them off as nothing more than physical attraction. Really, its an appreciation for the science behind the serum, not the meat-head piloting it, he’d said, cackling like a madman at Steve’s mock-offended expression.

They both knew it wasn’t true, and they both decidedly didn’t mention it.

“What the hell does agitare mean?” Clint asked, squinting at the cook-book lead out in front of him. It was written in Italian, which Clint claimed was the only way to cook authentic Italian food.

Problem was he didn’t know any Italian that wasn’t written on the menu of an Italian restaurant, limiting his knowledge to types of pasta, cheese, and tomatoes.

“It means stir, dumbass,”

“Hey! I’m trying to learn, don’t be so fuckin’ condescending,” Clint chastised, pointing a wooden spoon in Tony’s direction accusingly, flicking the engineer with tomato juice.

“I mean,” the brunette replied, locking his tablet and directing his attention to the archer, who was clad in a children’s chef hat and apron, making him look twice as ridiculous as usual. “Why don’t you just get me to read it for you, instead of asking me every other second what words mean?”

Clint considered him for a moment, before nodding.

“Okay, you’re up.”

He tossed the book over to Tony, ignoring the frustrated grunt from Bruce as the book landed in the middle of his notes, scattering them across the island in the middle of the kitchen where most of the team currently sat.

Steve walked in, towel slung over his shoulders from the quick shower he took after his session in the gym with Nat and Sam, rubbing it absently against the back of his head where his wet hair dripped onto the back of his white t-shirt.

“What’s the second row say?” Clint asked, stirring the pot in front of him.

“Schiacciare l’aglio e il basilico in una pasta e aggiungere alle cipolle,”

“In English, asshole,”

Tony grinned devilishly, before reading out the instructions to Clint.

Steve watched Tony carefully, trying not to seem too awed by the other man speaking beautifully in flawless Italian. Steve had known Maria was Italian, but he hadn’t been aware that much had passed on to Tony. He supposed he should have seen it; his dark, full hair, his tanned complexion, the way spoke with his hands so passionately, the way his body moved so fluidly, seductively, making Steve’s mouth dry and his palms sweaty…

Okay, so maybe not all of that was down to Tony being half Italian, and more to do with the restless thumping Steve’s heart did when he locked eyed with the brunette.

Still not ready to confront that.

“How long you been able to speak Italian anyway, man?” Clint ventured, peeling cloves of garlic and crushing them under the blade of a knife.

“Real question is how long have I been able to speak English, birdbrain,”

That earned a few raised eyebrows, and Nat’s attention from where she sat between Bruce and now Steve.

“Italian is your mother-tongue?” She asked curiously, setting her mug of green tea down on the surface.

“Yeah – well, I was speaking English pretty soon after I begun to speak Italian, but when I was born my Mom, she wanted privacy, so we stayed with her family in Italy most of the year,” he shrugged, reading off the next line of the book to Clint, who threw a thumbs-up back at him. “They all spoke it, so guess I just picked it up first,”

Steve had been living under the same roof as the other man for some time now, and in all of his unpredictable quirks and mannerisms, he still found himself being surprised by the genius in ways he had not before even considered.

“What’s Italian for ‘I need to go get some garlic bread’?” Clint asked plainly.

“Devo andare a prendere un po 'di pane di aglio,” Tony said automatically, not looking up from the page of scribbles Bruce had slid over to him. Not to check for any mistakes, no, just to admire it, as Bruce said.

“Excellent,” Nat said without missing a beat, “Get a few, and some cheesy garlic bread while you’re at it,”

Tony huffed irritably, though it lacked any real heat, as Clint chucked to himself.

Tony got up, making sure to push his stool under the table with as much huffing as possible. He stopped in the doorway, and Steve looked up from his sketchbook, noting the expectant look from the brunette.

“You’re coming with me,”

“I am?”

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes and beckoning Steve over again. “Obviously,”

“It’s really not that obvious,” The blonde sighed, though he was already following Tony out of the kitchen.

They got to the store nearly twenty minutes after they’d originally set off, which didn’t seem that odd, unless you considered the fact the store they most frequently used was a five-minute walk away from the tower.

They’d taken a complete detour, instead of going the most direct way, Tony had lead them down a bunch of side streets, just to end up at the end of the road the store sat on, rather than just walk down said road to get there.

Steve didn’t really mention it – drawing up the conclusion that Tony had thought better they keep to side streets to avoid too much attention. Yet, when they were in the store, Tony made to move to pull up the hood of his jacket or keep his head down; in fact, he even knelt down and spoke to a few kids shopping with their parents, discretely paying for their groceries just to ease some of the tension the parents seemed to carry in their shoulders.

Money wasn’t a problem for Tony, but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand the problems it made for other people, so, he did things like that fairly often, though always under the radar.

When they left the store, Steve started to turn right, to head down the main street this time round rather than waste a quarter of an hour trailing through dingy alleyways. Steve stopped, however, when he didn’t see Tony walking beside him.

Turning around, Tony was stood awkwardly, body tilted to the left, as if willing Steve to choose the long way round again.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Steve asked slowly, eyes flicking around the street for any signs of danger.

Tony tried to feign nonchalance, rubbing his hand through his messy hair – it was starting to curl at the nape of his neck, Steve noted absently.

“Just, I don’t know… side streets are more…” Tony waved a hand round, as if trying to will an excuse to himself, “…picturesque?”

Steve snorted, before walking up the mainstreet, despite Tony’s unusual behaviour.

Like Steve had said and thought many times before, Tony was weird guy, so it really didn’t send any red lights flashing off in his mind.

Begrudgingly, Tony followed after him.

A way down the street Steve noted Tony almost cringe – almost flinch – by his side.

“What the-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Steve had turned to look at whatever Tony was staring at, and he felt realisation wash over him.

Tony eyed him, a stern expression over his face, willing Steve to keep his mouth shut.

Steve’s eyes glistened, and his lip wavered, trying to push down a smile.

“Don’t,”

“Oh, my God,”

“I said don’t, asshole-!”

“You’re scared of them, aren’t you?”

“No!”

Steve was doubling over now, full belly-laughs rippling through him, as he wheezed around laughter. He swore he even felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, and was earning a fair share of bemused looks from onlookers making their way down the street.

“Shut up, Steve-!” Tony grit out, though he had an air of nervousness around him, smothering most of his frustration.

“Clowns? Really,” Steve threw his head back laughing, clapping Tony on the shoulder, sending a jolt through the other man.

Tony couldn’t help but crack a smile, but the unease from the performers outside a large toy-store remained settled.

A group of performers – of perhaps six or so clowns – were taking pictures with families, promoting some new product Steve guessed. There wasn’t even anything particularly creepy about any of them, all jolly smiles and silly tricks.

Yet the invincible Iron Man had gone wildly out of his way just so he didn’t have to walk past them.

Oh God, Steve didn’t think he’d ever laughed this hard.

“You’re such a dick, Rogers!”

“Clowns, Tony, Clowns – look! That kid just pushed one over-!”

As proof to his claim, a little girl had nudged one of the clowns, who fell backwards dramatically, knocking into another clown, who knocked into another and so on.

And here was Tony, practically petrified by them.

“What sane person likes clowns, Steve? Clowns – imagine waking up in the middle of the night and seeing that-!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve wheezed, trying to pull himself together, but he couldn’t wipe off the amused smile from his face if he tried. “Look, just, wander over there – I’ll be there, don’t worry – and just, try not to freak out, its just people in costumes, I mean, c’mon, shellhead-”

“Fine, fine!” the brunette grumbled, begrudgingly following Steve over the edge of a small crowd watching the antics of the group.

Steve wished he could say he was a good friend to Tony when they wandered over. Though he didn’t think any force on Earth would have stopped him practically collapsing in fits of laughter when a clown came up from beside them, honking a horn playfully, and the prompt shriek Tony let out from the top of his lungs, clawing at Steve’s arm.

Laughing so hard it hurt, Steve tried to keep up with Tony, who was walking as fast as possible without it being called running away back towards the safety of their tower.

It had been a rough couple of days.

Infiltrating a Hyrda research base never was a picnic, especially since unlike some of their other foes – namely AIM, Hydra seemed to actually learn from their mistakes.

They took a hit, got shaken up, and were currently tucked into a tiny outpost waiting for the rescue crew. Rain drummed against the old window frames of the building which poke out between a few trees in the middle of nowhere, branches swaying and tapping against the flat rooftop, sheets of water cascading down the walls outside.

Steve had lit a fire, knowing they’d be there for a good while longer because of the storm messing up tracking technology, even my SHIELD’s standard. It was a pretty nasty storm after all. The team crowded round the small furnace, faces illuminated in the warm glow, despite feeling cold and bitter on the inside.

They’d barely scraped out of this one. Tensions were high, and the fight had left most of them feeling haunted by their own memories; none of them mentioned how similar it was to when Wanda put them under her spell. Besides, judging by the way she tucked herself into the corner, she was being eaten up by enough guilt already.

Natasha hadn’t made one comment since the battle finished, absorbed completely in her own thoughts.

Clint tried to approach her, but sighed and slumped back when he was clearly getting nowhere with her here. She didn’t feel safe; she wanted – she needed – to go home.

“She normally likes to listen to songs n’stuff,” Bucky had told Steve, Sam, and Rhodey, who were all rubbing their hands in front of the fire.

“She not responding at all?” Sam asked warily, eyeing his friend from where he sat next to Tony.

“Give her time,” was all Clint said, before going back to idly fiddling with his arrow-heads.

Bruce, Vision and Thor hadn’t come with them this time – it hadn’t seemed necessary at the time. They were almost relieved, though, that the Hulk hadn’t come into contact with the empath like they all had.

Steve watched over Nat with concern written all over his face, before noting a silent exchange between Rhodey and Tony at the corner of his eye.

Rhodey seemed to be urging Tony, who was violently shaking his head in a negative motion. Between his hands, Steve noted Rhodes had picked up the guitar that had been mounted on the wall of the bunker above the stove, tightening the strings.

“C’mon, man,” he heard the Colonel murmur, “for her, yeah?”

Tony seemed to consider this, before his shoulders sagged in defeat.

After a few moments, the pair had shuffled closer to Nat, who made no indication she even knew they were there.

And that’s when Rhodey began to play.

It was a familiar tune, Steve noted, simple and repetitive, yet all the while timeless. Though the guitar wasn’t exactly in the best of shapes, Rhodes played beautifully, his worn fingertips strumming softly against the strings, evoking a tender rendition of the song.

Nat’s body seemed to have gone slightly looser, the vice-like grip she had round her own knees reducing by the slightest amount.

Tony breathed, shifted in his spot next to Natasha, and began to sing. The other’s around them perked up, surprised smiles playing on their faces as the brunette sung, accompanied by the gentle strums of the guitar.

“She's got a smile it seems to me Reminds me of childhood memories Where everything Was as fresh as the bright blue sky,”

Tony’s voice was faintly feminine, yet rather striking. Without even needed to belt it out, the sound of his voice sent a wave of impact through the room. Steve stared, awed, completely unaware that Nat was starting to come out of her shell, eyes trained on Rhodey’s fingers running down the strings.

“Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I'd stare too long I'd probably break down and cry,”

Clint started to hum along – not being the greatest of singers, but good enough to hold a steady tune. Sam started to bob his head, murmuring the words softly.

“Oh, oh, oh Sweet child o' mine Oh, oh, oh, oh Sweet love of mine,”

Steve vaguely picked up on Wanda and Bucky chiming in for the chorus, but Tony… God, he could barely breathe at the sound of the man’s voice; a soothing blanket that fell over the room, sending warmth bubbling up his insides and prickles of cold along his spine.

“She's got eyes of the bluest skies As if they thought of rain I hate to look into those eyes And see an ounce of pain Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for the thunder And the rain To quietly pass me by”

Natasha was looking up now, smiling. Then, gingerly, she sang along with Tony, who held her hand as she looked gratefully on at Rhodey. The man didn’t look up from his playing, but his lips quirked upwards; he knew. They sung together:

“Oh, oh, oh Sweet child o' mine Oh, oh, oh, oh Sweet love of mine,”

“You know,” Steve said, arms folded across his broad chest currently stretching out a grey workout shirt, chin tipped downwards, “for a guy who’s been in the war and fights aliens and…” he sighed, cautioning a look at Tony, who was sat on the kitchen worktop.

The brunette was picking slices of pizza from the discarded takeout box from their meal since getting back home in one piece; the others were in various states of passed-out in the living room, save for himself and Steve.

“For a guy like me, who’s done the things I’ve done, I can be such a damn coward.”

Tony blinked, started by the sudden turn in conversation.

Moments ago, it had been just playful banter – nothing too complex or witty, they were all too tired for that.

“Wha-? Cap… you feeling alright? Helmet not squeezing your brain too much?”

“No, Tony,” Steve huffed around a smile, “I mean, I haven’t been totally honest with you,”

Tony’s expression went blank, an air of hurt flashing over his features, before Steve backtracked.

“Not – uh, not like that, God… I just mean, I’ve been too afraid to admit to you that I…” he trailed off, suddenly finding his mouth going dry and hands becoming clammy. “So, uh, you like me, right–? Wait, shit, that makes me sound like such a jerk, shit, sorry-”

Steve fumbled for the right words, already seemingly offending Tony twice already. Fuck, he was so shit at this.

“What I mean, is that, when I…when I knew how you felt – about me – I was scared because-”

“Me liking you scared you-?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised and playful attitude completely lost.

“No! Well, in a way – but not bad!” Steve tried, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking helplessly at Tony who seemed to only be getting more offended by this rather patchwork ‘confession’.

“So, what? You knew I liked you and, and pretended not to know because it freaked you out – but then you were okay using it as some kind of bait-?!” Tony was growing hostile now, walls coming up to mask any hurt he was feeling.

“You know, Rogers, if this is some backward-ass way of apologising, just drop it, okay? We were fine! Why did you have to bring it up, like I’m not fucking embarrassed about it? Get over yourself, Jesus, I’m over you-!”

“Wait – you’re over me?”

Steve was quiet now, the previous bubbling excitement and nerves tangled together dissipating, replaced with a cold wash of dread.

That seemed to give Tony some pause. The genius’ eyes were glassed over, wide and vulnerable. And Steve knew Tony was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

“Yes,” Tony said after a while, voice shaken and nit sounding too convinced.

“You really mean that?” Steve tried again, edging closer to Tony, cornering him on the kitchen surface.

Tony’s eyes darted to the door, but then Steve was right there, face inches away from his own, and staring him down, looking for any trace of a lie. Steve was stood between Tony’s legs now, which hung motionless over the edge of the counter. His neck was tilted back slightly, looking up to meet the Captain’s startlingly blue eyes, which flicked over the genius’ face, taking it all in.

Tony felt a huff of air from Steve brush over him, disturbing a lock of dark hair which fell over his eyes. Steve’s hand came up to the side of his face, brushing the hair away, but stayed hovering over his cheek.

Tony swallowed hard, before replying hoarsely.

“No,”

Steve pulled Tony’s face towards his own, pressing their lips together harshly. The Captain ran his hands down Tony’s body, trailing from his cheeks to his hips, using them to pull the other man flush up against him; Tony moaned, running his hands over the expanse of Steve’s shoulders, letting the larger man push him back against the surface, climbing over him and deepening the kiss.

Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, flicking his tongue over the man’s bottom lip, feeling heat pool in his belly and his insides go gooey.

After a few moments, Steve wound his arms under Tony, hauling them both up and marching out of the kitchen.

“The elevator is that way-” Tony breathed around kisses, pointing to the opposite direction in which they were headed.

“Too far,” Steve practically growled, hoisting Tony up with one arm under his ass and the other opening the door to a small study space they rarely used.

Inside it was dark, filled with a few bookshelves, but namely a large sofa some of them occasionally used to read on.

Steve pulled the door almost shut, pushing Tony back against it closing it all the way, hands roaming over the smaller man’s body.

“FRIDAY, do – fuck, Steve – do your thing,”

Wordlessly, FRIDAY ensured the door was locked and turned the lights up a fraction, just enough to see – which Tony was hugely thankful for, since after Steve set him down on the sofa, he pulled his shift off to reveal his naked torso.

The super-soldier crawled up Tony’s body, gripping him by the hips and rolling down, enticing a moan from the smaller man. Steve’s face was flushed red, his brow furrowed as Tony mouthed at his neck.

Steve suddenly stopped, pupil’s blown wide with lust, yet unease settled behind them.

“Wait, Tony,”

“What, no, no, no… why are you stopping?”

“Tony,” Steve urged, smiling despite himself, before sighing. “I like you, I have feelings for-”

“Steve – I know,” the other man smiled, “I mean, knowing you, I’d be a little concerned if you didn’t,”

Steve suddenly became acutely aware that they were both extremely naked, wrapped up in each other’s bodies – and at some point had asked FRIDAY to turn on the fireplace (looking back, it may have been a bit over-kill on the romance).

“Right, uh, I wasn’t quite sure if you caught the memo,” Steve said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

Tony looked up at him through his lashes, half of his face illuminated by the low ebb of the fireplace opposite them. He was beautiful – this close Steve noted the freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose, the strands of grey hairs growing from his temples, each individual lash that framed his dark eyes.

“I got it, Steve,” he smiled, before pulling Steve back down to meet his lips.

Hope you enjoy! Prompts for avengers fics are still open ~

[bloomsoftly]

the world at your tongue

Darcy/Nat, rated T for Darcy’s potty mouth and some serious kissing

Darcy does Jane a favor, gets drunk, and maybe falls a little in love in the process.

for the delightful @paranoidwino, the best muse a girl could ask for.

Also on AO3. (it would mean a lot if you could leave a review!)

Darcy has always been powerless against Jane’s puppy eyes, and today is no exception. She knows it’s no coincidence that Jane waits until she’s trapped in a bridesmaid fitting to ask her the favor, and part of her wants to say no out of spite.

Jane can obviously see the compulsion in her face, because she juts in quickly, whispering furiously, “Please, Darce. I’ll owe you a million, but please don’t make me go alone with them.” Her eyes dart to the door of the fitting room, as if her future mother-in-law might pop out of nowhere.

Frantically, she hisses, “Please! You know what Thor’s dad said about me. If I’m stuck with his family alone with limitless alcohol and no escape, you might have to bail me out for murder.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “One, limitless alcohol is still better than getting stuck with them while sober. And two, at least that way maybe I’d get out of maid of honor duty. I’m not seeing a problem, here.” Jane throws a wadded up ball of tulle at her for that and Darcy, trapped on a pedestal and covered in satin, is too slow to dodge. It smacks her square in the face. Seeing that Jane has switched from joking to overwhelmed, eyes swelling with tears, Darcy relents. She carefully hops down from the platform and shuffles over to Jane, swishing obnoxiously as she goes.

Gathering her into her arms, Darcy soothes, “I’m sorry for teasing, Janie. Of course I’ll go to the damn wine tasting with you. Someone’s gotta keep Odin in line.”

Petting Jane’s hair, she grumbles, “Damn old rich men who think they can say anything they want.”

Jane snorts wetly and pushes away, wiping her nose. She gives Darcy a mock glare, but they both know she’s in complete agreement with the statement. Still, Darcy doesn’t want to spend their only alone time for the day—Frigga really will be back any minute—talking about Thor’s terrible father, so she diverts the subject. Nudging Jane’s shoulder affectionately, she teases, “You better not have gotten any snot on this dress or the attendant might actually kill me. That woman is way too into weddings.”

Jane eyes the gown frantically for a moment, looking for a wet spot, before she catches on to the joke. She reaches forward to smack Darcy’s arm in retaliation, but is interrupted by the sound of Frigga’s footsteps echoing down the narrow hallway to their changing room. Like lightning, Darcy jumps back on the platform (miraculously not ripping the ridiculous dress) and Jane pretends to be deeply conflicted about whether she likes this style compared to the previous sixteen Darcy already tried on. Despite their impressive acting skills, Frigga isn’t buying it.

After a perfunctory knock on the door, she pokes her head inside to check how they’re doing. Based on the sparkle in her eye, Frigga knows exactly what Jane and Darcy are up to, and she diplomatically offers, “Well, dear, we still have a ways until the wedding. Perhaps we can set aside the bridesmaid dress shopping for another day?”

Jane agrees with alacrity, and Darcy is out of the dress in half the time it took to get the damn thing on. Neither of them protest when Frigga suggests they get mimosas, either. Darcy’s policy whenever she’s around Jane’s future in-laws is to consume as much alcohol as possible, because it tends to make things easier.

Like the time at Jane and Thor’s engagement dinner when Loki sabotaged the whole thing by loudly confronting his father about the ‘shady’ circumstances of his adoption. To be blunt, Darcy would probably remember the whole sordid tale a bit better if she hadn’t drunk an entire bottle of wine in a futile attempt to drown out the awkwardness.

She’d feel guilty about drinking so much, except she caught sight of Jane and Thor doing the same thing. They’d just saluted each other across the table and settled back to watch the fur fly. It was a memorable evening, but probably not in the way Jane or Thor had hoped.

That night was still second to the night that Jane and Thor introduced their families to each other, which basically means that it was the night Thor’s parents and brother met Darcy. (Erik was out of town for a research conference, and he and Darcy are the only ones Jane’s got.) Things fell apart pretty much around the time that Odin began insulting Jane’s chosen family—complaining that he rearranged meetings with several important diplomats just to meet one measly friend— but the evening really became an unmitigated disaster when the asshole obliquely referred to Jane as a goat.

Darcy was ready to launch herself over the table at him and scratch his eyes out, or worse, but Jane held her back; for such a small woman, she has an extremely firm grip. It was a ridiculous scene: Thor berating his father for insulting his fiance, Frigga eyeing Jane in concern, and Loki slouching against the table, grinning with unholy glee. Meanwhile, Jane maintained a vise-like hold on Darcy’s elbow and frantically gestured at a waiter to bring another couple bottles of wine.

And that’s the story of how Darcy and Jane discovered that socializing with Odin requires at least two bottles of wine.

In all the times Darcy’s met her, Frigga has always seemed very kind and welcoming, so there’s no indication that she would necessarily be the same as her husband in that regard. And Darcy knows better than to judge a person by their family, but still—it’s probably better that there’s alcohol involved, for everyone’s sake. And as far as precautionary measures go, mimosas are some of the least painful. Drinks with the mother-in-law is not even close to the biggest sacrifice Darcy’s made for Jane, but this wine tasting might be another story.

-:-

“Thor, I have a very serious question for you.”

In anticipation of Thor’s reply, Jane mutes the TV (it’s on some random show that none of them are really watching anyway). In response, Thor looks up from where he’s been combing his fingers through Jane’s hair. Shifting slightly on the couch, he pulls Jane more firmly into his side and turns to face Darcy.

“Yes, Darcy?”

She pauses for dramatic effect, causing Jane to roll her eyes. They’ve been friends long enough that they can practically finish each other’s sentences, which means Jane immediately recognizes when Darcy is about to say something absurd. But hey, it’s her apartment, she can do what she wants. “Are you sure you aren’t the adopted one in the family? I mean, I know it’s supposed to be Loki, but he fits right in with your dad’s crazy.”

Darcy has always loved Thor’s laugh; it rolls from his body like thunder, unstoppable and warm. The whole couch shakes with it now, deep and loud and hearty. Thor laughs and laughs until tears trickle out the corner of his eyes and trail into his beard. Jane and Darcy laugh with him, helpless in the face of his unabashed amusement.

Eventually, Thor wipes his tears away with a finger and says, “I can see why you would ask, as my father and my brother are of similar temperaments.” Darcy and Jane both snort; trust Thor to  find a diplomatic way to say his family members are batshit crazy. “I take more after my mother, I think. She can be ‘crazy’ in her own ways, but in a manner more palatable than that of my father or brother.” Eyeing his fiance in concern, Thor asks Jane, “She was good to you when you went shopping, was she not? I was under the impression it went well.”

Thinking back on some of the scandalous stories a tipsy Frigga told them over mimosas, Darcy grins behind her hand and acknowledges, “Yeah, I can see that, big guy. She does remind me of you a little bit.”

At the same time, Jane rushes to reassure, “No, she was great! It was a lovely morning all around.”

Assuaged, Thor grins and leans back against the arm of the couch. A frown crosses his face, and he queries, “May I ask, if my mother caused no offense during your outing, what prompted your question?”

Darcy groans and flops her head back against the couch. Rolling her eyes, Jane guesses, “Is this about the wine tasting?”

Flinging an arm across her face, Darcy moans, “Why did I agree to do that with you again?”

Unsympathetic, Jane crosses her arms and replies, “Because you’re my best friend and my maid of honor and you love me.”

Thor’s a little nicer, and he reaches around Jane to pat Darcy on the arm. “Cheer up, Darcy. I’m sure it’ll be quite fun.”

-:-

The wine tasting is not particularly fun, surprising absolutely no one. Darcy has managed to get drunk, though, much to Jane’s jealousy.

It takes approximately an hour and a half for Darcy to lose all patience with Odin’s veiled disparagement of their commoners’ palates (seriously, does that man think he lives in the Middle Ages?), and in that time she has managed to get herself properly sloshed. As she allows herself to get lost in the crowd, Darcy feels a momentary twinge of guilt for abandoning Jane. Even as she drifts away, though, she can hear Odin’s booming insults and the guilt fades quickly. Jane has Thor—she’ll be fine.

Darcy’s not really sure where she’s headed—the opposite direction of Odin’s voice is about as far as she’s gotten planning-wise—so she stops to gather herself near one corner of the room. She’s in the midst of looking for a place that will spare her any potential run-ins with Thor’s family when a flash of color catches her eye from across the room. She glances over and spots the most gorgeous woman she’s seen in…well, a really long time.

The woman’s face is partially obscured by her sleek red hair, but then she turns in Darcy’s direction and their eyes meet. Darcy’s first coherent thought, if you can call it that, is hot damn. The redhead’s face is as striking as the rest of her, but there’s a little pull at one side of her mouth like she’s laughing at a joke the rest of the room isn’t privy to.

The woman lifts an eyebrow, and Darcy knows she’s been caught staring. In response, Darcy shrugs and offers a grin. You caught me. The redhead smirks and gives Darcy a slow, head-to-toe perusal. Darcy swears she can feel the heat of her gaze all the way across the room, and by the time the woman’s eyes make contact with hers again Darcy’s face is completely flushed.

Darcy sways in her high heels, just slightly, not sure if her strongest impulse is to run away and hide from the woman’s scrutiny or to beg her to do it again. Apparently the woman would prefer the latter, because she takes a single step in Darcy’s direction, eyes intent on her face—and is waylaid by what looks to be an acquaintance of hers.

Their eye contact is cut off, and a number of other people also walk between them, until Darcy can’t see the woman or her friend at all. Shrugging off a slight sense of disappointment, Darcy realizes that she’s been in one place for too long and resumes her wandering throughout the room.

Not twenty minutes later, Darcy realizes her mistake in sticking to less populated areas of the room when she’s cornered by a smarmy pathetic excuse for a man. He has clearly decided that she is going to be his one night stand, and doesn’t even bother to ask her name before he starts hitting on her.

Great.

Reaching the end of her limited patience, Darcy cuts him off mid-sentence.

“Oh, sorry, I’m into girls.” Darcy’s expression and flat tone indicate she’s not sorry at all, despite her words. There’s only so much effort she can put into protecting this guy’s feelings, and she’s already running out of reasons to care. Especially since the douchebag ignores all of her nonverbal cues and sidles closer.

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy yet, honey.” He leers at her drunkenly, in what he no doubt thinks is an attractive manner. In reality, it’s gross and invasive.

Darcy wishes Jane hadn’t insisted that she leave her taser at home, though where she would have hidden it in this dress or this clutch she has no idea. She’s faced with two options: either she punches the guy in the face and risks breaking a finger (and drawing the wrath of Odin, which would be a nuisance), or she uses the classic fake-out technique.

She’ll spare Jane the misery of an angry Odin this time.

Pulling her mouth into a wide, insincere grin, Darcy fakes a sympathetic expression. Shrugging, she says, “No, really. Actually, my girlfriend will be here any second and she really hates having to deal with guys who don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no,’ so you should probably go.” Darcy looks at the creep pointedly, but of course he doesn’t get the message. He’d have to be looking at her face for that.

Eyes firmly on her chest, he takes a step even closer. She flinches, growing alarmed. “Listen, man—”

“You can call me Brock, baby. What d’ya say we take this party somewhere a little quieter?” He reaches a hand for her arm, but she pivots out of his reach at the last second and steps back.

Darcy’s not sure what to do next, short of causing a scene. Just before the pushy asshole is able to box her in to a corner, Darcy spies the gorgeous woman from earlier standing over by the Malbec (which Darcy had sampled generously not too long ago). As a last-ditch effort, she pushes past Brock and moves toward her, calling out as she goes.

“Darling, there you are!” Darcy unsteadily weaves her way toward the stunning redhead, hoping she isn’t about to get punched in the face. She slides in close next to the woman, anxiety shining in her eyes. “I didn’t see you walk in, or I would have come over immediately.”

With a quick glance from Darcy to the man pursuing her, the woman’s face lights with understanding. Staring right at Brock, the redhead presses against Darcy’s side and gives her a silky kiss on the cheek. Heat warms Darcy’s cheeks at the contact, and she wobbles slightly.

The redhead presses her face to Darcy’s hair and slides one arm around Darcy’s waist, sparking a trail of fire where her fingertips brush against Darcy’s skin. Flushing, Darcy briefly gives mental thanks to Jane for convincing her to wear a backless dress.

Softly, the redhead murmurs into her ear, “My name is Natasha.” The name fits her, Darcy thinks. Poised and graceful and somehow utterly deadly.

Louder, Natasha apologizes, “I’m sorry, Солнышко. I came in a little late and thought I might find you by the Malbec.” With a warm look, she adds, “I know how much you love it.” There’s no way she could know that her statement is actually true, but Darcy gets the weird sense that she isn’t bluffing.

Darcy is caught up in the heat of Natasha’ s gaze and the soft brush of her fingertips against Darcy’s waist—the heat of her hand scorches through the thin lace of her dress, and Darcy feels as though she’s been branded. She’s so caught up in trying not to melt into a puddle of lace and lust on the floor that she forgets all about the creep she was trying to escape—until he claps a meaty hand on her shoulder.

Slurring, he demands, “Where do you think you’re going? We aren’t done—”

In a flash, Natasha steps between them in such a way that breaks his hold and has him stumbling back. Glaring fiercely at the drunk man, she hisses, “Just what do you think you’re doing?” The soft menace of her tone is terrifying, and something must register in the man’s measly little hindbrain because he takes another step back and holds his hands up in placation.

“Sorry, Red, didn’t know she was yours.”

Bristling, Darcy opens her mouth to retort but Natasha beats her to the punch. “She’s not a doll, jackass—she doesn’t belong to anyone.” Her glare intensifies, and she steps closer to him, threatening, “Now get the hell out of here before you say something you’ll really regret.”

Darcy almost expects them to come to blows (the guy pursued her doggedly halfway across the room, after all), so she places a gentle hand on Natasha’s upper back. As sexy as it would be to see Natasha defend her honor—and she’s surprised to find that the thought really does turn her on—Darcy is aware that Jane and her future in-laws are still roaming somewhere in the winery. She really doesn’t want to cause a scene, because of course either Loki or Odin would find out and pick a fight with her best friend over it.

Darcy gears up to break the standoff somehow, but in the end she doesn’t even have to. After a long moment, Brock inclines his head in defeat and turns to leave without further comment, tail tucked firmly between his legs. She stares at his profile over Natasha’s red curls, dumbstruck by this turn of events. Once he’s completely out of sight, Natasha’s shoulders relax slightly and she turns back to Darcy.

They stare at each other awkwardly for a second. Darcy’s trying to think of a way to say thank you and that was so attractive but also ask are you single? interested? come home with me? without sounding like a total creep.

She must linger a little too long in hesitation, because Natasha shrugs one shoulder and moves to slide past her back toward the wine. With a quirk to the side of her mouth, Natasha notes, “He should leave you alone now. Those bullies are all the same.”

In reflex, Darcy reaches out to catch Natasha as she goes by. She pulls back as soon as she realizes what she’s done, but it’s too late; her fingers skim lightly across Natasha’s upper arm, and they both shudder. The other woman turns her head toward Darcy, expectant. Still not knowing what to say, Darcy stutters, “That was so…amazing.” Natasha laughs, but doesn’t walk past her. Hunting for something else, anything to keep her attention, Darcy adds, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that, or…well, if you’re not into women—”

Natasha snorts at that, turning to fully face her. “I wasn’t just admiring your dress earlier, you know.”

A thrill runs up Darcy’s spine. “I know—I mean, I hoped—okay, why is talking so difficult? Wanna—” She stops, self-conscious, knowing that the wine has made her tongue thick and clumsy.

“Get a drink?” Natasha gestures to the wine around them and chuckles, warm and throaty. “Yeah, I do. But first, can I have your name? I’ve been wanting to find out for hours.”

Hours? Darcy blushes. She’s no stranger to flirtation, but this woman is a master. “Darcy. My name is Darcy.” Gathering herself, she winks at the redhead. “Can I buy you a drink?”

That earns her a full-blown grin, and Natasha purrs, “Nothing would please me better, Солнышко. Lead the way.”

All Darcy wants is to escape the overcrowded room and actually get to know her redheaded savior. So, with a silent apology to Jane she steals a newly-opened bottle of wine from one of the tables (much to her companion’s amusement) and leads Natasha out to a side balcony. It isn’t until they’ve propped themselves up on a balustrade looking out over the vineyard’s hills, wine bottle nestled between them, that Darcy thinks to ask, “What does that word mean? You’ve said it twice now.” Snagging the wine, she takes a sip straight from the bottle. Somehow she manages not to spill red wine down her chest, which quite frankly is a bit of a miracle. She should have grabbed some wine glasses when she stole the bottle, but it’s too late now.

“Солнышко is a Russian endearment. It means sunshine.” When Darcy offers her the wine bottle, Natasha takes a long swallow. Even drinking straight from the bottle, she’s the epitome of class and grace. Darcy’s inebriated brain fixates on the glide of her throat as she swallows and the path of her tongue as she licks her lips to catch any stray drops of wine. Shaking herself mentally, Darcy drags her eyes back up to Natasha’s. The redhead smirks at her knowingly.

Darcy quirks an eyebrow, unashamed. “Russian, huh?” Natasha passes the bottle back to her and nods, explaining that she spent some time living in Russia for a job. Darcy props the bottle in her lap but doesn’t take a drink. She’s had enough for one night, and she wants to remember every single detail of this evening.

Through more prompting, Darcy finds out that Natasha lives relatively close, just like her. She used to be a government agent, but now owns a self-defense fitness studio in the city. Overall, she says it’s a much more relaxed career and she loves it.

In turn, Darcy tells Natasha about her work as an assistant to a world-renowned astrophysicist, and all the shady situations Jane’s research has gotten her into. Then she finds herself talking about Jane’s impending marriage to Thor and her duties as maid of honor. Once she gets started, she can’t help but rant that her best friend is about to acquire one of the most horrifying father-in-laws on the planet, and that Darcy is only at the wine tasting in the first place because Jane couldn’t stand to be around him with Thor as her only support.

Natasha laughs at that, and reveals that she too was conned into coming to the wine tasting. Her best friend and former partner, Clint, was invited to the winery along with his wife and several other couples and guilted Natasha into coming along with the group. “His argument was that we don’t see each other often enough now that we no longer work together,” Natasha grumbles, “but I still ended up being the ninth wheel.”

Darcy laughs exuberantly, throwing her head back and drawing the attention of another couple who wandered out onto the balcony. Still smiling, she notes, “What a pair we are! So indignant that our friends forced us to come to an expensive winery where we get free drinks and a magnificent view.” She gestures at the scenery to punctuate her statement.

“I guess you have a point,” Natasha replies, admiring the rolling hills in the distance. Turning her head back to smile softly at Darcy, she confides, “I’ll never live this down if I tell him, but I’m glad I came.”

As Natasha speaks, Darcy’s eyes catch the sight of their lipstick mixing together on the lip of the bottle; it’s a striking blend of vibrant red and purple, and she’s transfixed. Darcy absently wonders if she’ll get the chance to see that exact shade on her own mouth. She hopes so.

They talk for what feels like hours, long after the sun has gone down and torches have been lit around them. Darcy’s phone goes off several times but she ignores it, trying to muster the courage to ask Natasha to the wedding. It’s a bold move, but one that could pay off extremely well.

When her phone buzzes for at least the tenth time, Darcy sighs. “Sorry,” she mutters, reaching into her clutch to read the latest message. It’s from Jane, of course.

Darcy, are you okay? Where are you? We’re ready to leave and I might murder Odin and/or Loki if we don’t head out soon.

Darcy blows her bangs away from her face in a burst of pure frustration. It figures that she’d meet someone like Natasha and then have to leave. But Jane needs her, so she turns to Natasha with regret.

Natasha already knows what she’s going to say. “Time to leave?”

“Unfortunately. If I don’t go, the bride might murder either her future father-in-law or her future brother-in-law, or both. And then I’d have to help her hide the bodies, and we’d probably both end up in jail for life.”

They gingerly climb down from their perch, both a little less steady on their feet. For a moment they hover awkwardly, neither one knowing how to proceed. Drawing in a fortifying breath, Darcy takes the plunge. “If—well, if you’re not busy in a couple of months, do you want to be my date to Jane’s wedding?”

Natasha blinks, surprised. “I—” she falters, glancing to the side, and Darcy’s courage fails.

“You know what? Don’t worry about it.” She forces a grin and says goodbye. “Thank you for the company, and for making this wine tasting a lot more fun than it would have been otherwise.” Staggering backward, she offers a half-wave and pivots, walking quickly away. It’s only a few seconds until she’s back in the warmth of the room, and she lets herself get lost in the crowd of people. Nursing her disappointment, Darcy heads for the entrance. Jane is probably worried by now, and Odin will have a fit if they have to wait too long.

After a couple of wrong turns, Darcy finds the entryway and steps back out into the night. As expected, there’s Jane and the rest of the gang. “Where have you been?” Jane whispers furiously, drawing Darcy away from the group.

Slightly guilty in the face of Jane’s concern, Darcy apologizes profusely. “Jane, I’m so sorry. I was out on the balcony and lost track of time.” Glancing at Odin’s stern face, she wonders, “Did Odin give you a lot of trouble?”

“Not too bad, actually. He—” Jane cuts herself off in mid-sentence, distracted by something over Darcy’s shoulder.

“Jane? What—?” Darcy turns, trying to figure out what has captured her best friend’s attention.

It’s Natasha, striding toward her with determination. Darcy turns all the way around, eyes widening, but Natasha doesn’t stop. Instead, she slides one hand to the back of Darcy’s head, the other around her waist, bringing her close. As she moves, Darcy’s eyes close and her arms come up around Natasha on reflex, and their mouths meet somewhere in the middle. It’s a little too rough, at first—teeth clacking together—and they pull apart slightly.

Darcy tilts her head and slides her hand into Natasha’s silky hair and just like that it’s perfect. Their lips slide against each other in a sensual caress for long moments, and lightning races down Darcy’s spine. Tightening the arm around her waist, Natasha licks into Darcy’s mouth heatedly. Darcy stumbles closer and tightens the hand she has in Natasha’s hair, moaning into the kiss and nipping at Natasha’s mouth in return.

Mindful that they are in a public space and have likely gathered quite the audience, Darcy somehow restrains herself from hiking a leg over Natasha’s hip. Natasha must have a similar thought, because she slowly gentles the kiss and extricates her hand from Darcy’s hair.

As she pulls away, Natasha’s pupils are blown wide with wine and wonder. She bites her lip and whispers, huskily, “You took me by surprise.” Stroking Darcy’s cheek with her thumb, she leans forward to press another light kiss to Darcy’s mouth and murmurs, “Also, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

Darcy can see by the look on her face that surprises don’t come Natasha’s way very often. Determined to give her another one, she leans in for another kiss. This one is gentle, soft, and wet. They take their time, lips clinging as they explore each other slowly. Natasha sinks into her, one hand sliding along Darcy’s neck in a soft caress. One of Darcy’s hands slides up Natasha’s back in return, coming to rest between her shoulder blades. This kiss is perfect in an entirely different way from the first, and Darcy pulls back reluctantly. Breathing unevenly, she jokes, “Stick with me and you might get more of those.”

Natasha chuckles. “Surprises? Or kisses?”

“Both.” It’s a promise.

Holding out a torn piece of paper for Darcy to take, Natasha makes a promise of her own . “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And by the way, I would love to be your date to the wedding.” Her gaze drops to Darcy’s mouth, then to the crowd behind her, and she visibly restrains herself from leaning in for another kiss. “Unfortunately, it looks like we’re out of time tonight. Text me?”

She takes a step back, then another, and then she’s lost in the crowd.

Darcy turns, dazed, toward Jane and the others. Frigga has already turned Odin and Loki around to coax them into the car, so it’s only Thor and Jane waiting. Jane is tapping one foot, equal parts exasperated and proud. “Damn, Darce. Well, I guess I know now why you weren’t answering my texts.” As Darcy reaches her, Jane nudges her side and adds, “Also, that kiss? So hot. She’s a keeper, you take my word for it.” Even as she rolls her eyes at her best friend, Darcy can’t help the flush that overtakes her cheeks. The kisses were hot. So hot.

Thor doesn’t tease her, just winks and asks, “New friend of yours, Darcy? Anyone I’m likely to see again?”

Darcy can’t help her grin as she answers, “Yeah, big guy. She’ll be at your wedding.” Thor laughs in delight and ushers her to the vehicle.

As they slide into the back of the Escalade limousine (because Odin wouldn’t know the meaning of the word subtlety if it bit him in the ass), Darcy leans toward Jane and whispers, “This was hands down the best sacrifice I’ve ever had to make in the entirety of our friendship. I’ll never doubt you again.” Jane snorts and wipes a way a smudge of lipstick from the corner of Darcy’s mouth, winking at her.

Not wasting any time, Darcy plugs Natasha’s number into her phone. Darcy starts to type out a text, then hesitates briefly, wondering if she should at least pretend to be hard to get and wait until she gets home. Nah, fuck it; she’s all in with this one.

Want to get an actual drink sometime?

Her phone chimes in less than a minute.

Friday, 7 PM? Casual clothing this time.

Darcy grins to herself and looks out the window, ignoring Odin and Loki’s snide remarks about the ‘embarrassing and humiliating scene’ she just made.

Apparently, she has two dates to look forward to. Life is looking up.

[rowanartist]

Fan Fiction Quotes 2018:

"'Interplanet Janet' is part of why I became an astrophysicist," Jane says." [X]

"Castiel, angel of the lord, has knitted a fully functional winter hat, and Dean doesn’t seem to be offended by it."[X]Tumblr

"you look like you could use either a hug or a mercy killing. And I don’t wanna get blood on this knife, I just cleaned it.”[Tumblr post]

"Oh, no, you don't. Not in my lab. This lab is an intimacy-free zone, it says so on the door. Does it? I'm putting a sign on that door. Get out of my lab, ingrates. Don't make me sic the robots on you.""[X]lol

"You guys? I'm serious. Dum-E has a fire extinguisher and you know how he loves using it...""[X]and then they ran gleefully

"He has to admit it’s a pretty magnificent feeling, on top of everything else today, to know that Steve will take care of him, whatever he needs."[X]not my thing, and yet the emotion/caring involved appeals to me...

"Steve, I know this is hard for you to believe, because you’re a pretty hardcore martyr, but I and a lot of other people love you and we want to take care of you. You’re not a burden."[X]you are not a burden. "The oatmeal that your loving boyfriend made for you. You should eat it.” He takes a spoonful and holds it in front of Steve. “You want me to make choo choo noises?”"[X]lol, I would not want choo choo noises!

'we said we loved each other. .... And then he force fed me oatmeal.'[X]paraphrased from a companion piece to the last two quotes. The response: "Well, he definitely sounds like a keeper." also: the last cat video

"You know, it’s okay if you are jealous. I know they don’t put that down as one of the attributes on Captain America’s action figure box, but human Steve gets to be jealous and mad and scared sometimes."[X]good thing to remember, just because people have one image of you doesn't mean you aren't allowed to feel other things "remembers hurting all the time. It made everything else fuzzy, harder to deal with. "[X]relatable

"Bucky is so beautiful, with a few lines around his mouth and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, those eyes so blue Steve’s searched for years for the right combination of colors and hasn’t been able to replicate the color. "[X]The song "Crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes"! I need to comment this to the author! Done.

"After everything they’ve been through, asking them to carry some of his weight feels selfish."[X]I know the feeling. It's part of why it took me so long to admit I needed any help, stuck on why do I deserve it.

"Steve has always moved slightly left of reality, where he prances like a goddamn circus pony in battle but collapses like a pile of bricks when he’s trying so hard to be sensual."[X]relatable, not the battle part, but sometimes I can be unexpectedly graceful. Unfinished fic because it really wasn't my thing at all.

"Sam’s been a tremendous help to Bucky’s recovery, and at least half of that comes from the way he takes care of Steve, too"[X]Sam does a lot for them

"Bucky had declared, I'm making you a damn sandwich, Steve, and you're gonna eat it, and Steve had shot back, fine, then I'm making you one; pass the bread, jerk."[X]that's a compromise I guess "“Quit blaming yourself,” he commanded. Steve took a drink to avoid answering and Bucky flicked water at him. “Bad soldier,” he scolded, mimicking the animal training show they were a little obsessed with. Steve rolled his eyes."[X]imagine someone with a spray bottle every time Steve got mopey or maytr like.

"Doctors have been telling Steve his problems are all in his head since day one. Bucky doesn’t much care for doctors."[X]relatable on both accounts

"And hell if Tony can deny the cuteness of it all."[X]not much of a stand alone quote but I needed to do something with it!

"Oh, the beanstalk will be to get me in bed, is that it?” Bucky winked. “Won’t take any beanstalk but the one you got between—"[X]lol! Fairytale innuendo! Goofy but fun and a reminder that Snow White came out in their time (that phrasing sounds like she's lesbian or bi)

"Above hangs a calculated grid of fairy lights, punctuated at regular intervals with simple paper lanterns."[X]sounds pretty. I'm a lighting nerd I guess.

"there’s a line between stupid and suicidal, and that’s where i live. "[Tumblr post, under keep reading ] much amusing, and this version of the post gas art ;)

"Hux stared at him, wondering how much more cliche this moment could get, and trying not to blush because he was utterly charmed by it."[ch: 4]it was kinda giving me a almost pretty in pink vibe "Remember, Ben? We were going to pick up some wood for the project, and measure some lengths to make sure everything will fit in the back."[ch X]omg, the innuendo

"But people getting help – real help – to live their lives – it’s easy to think about that being good when it comes to other people. It’s hard thinking about that for yourself."[X]another quote that makes me think of that one Dresden files quote - it really is a common sentiment " It can mean a lot when us mere mortals are feeling particularly down that even those with greater than human capabilities struggle with the same issues."[X]YES!

"upon himself to organize the whole thing, down to bullying the party supply store into making balloon arrangements with a superhero-ballerina-archaeologist theme"[X]draw?

"Kylo, I'm not doing this because I'm ‘dealing with’ you. I love you and I want to be able to you to help you when you need it."[X]good relationship! I kinda like the series?

"Bruce says imperfections are signs of a life well lived."[X]comment

"It was a small square. DOVE PROMISES was emblazoned on the foil. There was chocolate inside, and Bucky took the foil from him and smoothed it out before handing it back. TAKE TIME FOR YOU, it advised him. He gave Bucky a flat look and Bucky started laughing again. Steve couldn’t help how warm the sound made his chest feel."[X]laughter is the best medicine "I want a picture of two great world wonders."[X]awww sweet and cheesy! "[Bucky]“Laughing at a guy’s insults. You born in a barn or something?” [Steve]“I’m not the one whose last name is Barnes."[X]lol! "“I got it from Dr. Dove,” Steve admitted, and he didn’t hide the smile that stole across his face at Bucky’s laugh."[X]what he got: “Well, I can’t change the past,” he said. “But I can enjoy the present.” "Well, when you think literally everything is your fault, it makes you pull out those sad puppy eyes, and then the rest of us have to deal with feeling like we’re the reason Captain America looks like a golden retriever who just got yelled at. Asshole."[X]that's how caring about people can make you an unpleasant person. "“Can you hold these?” Bucky asked, pushing the souvenir bag into one of Steve’s hands. “And this?” He put his hand in Steve’s other hand."[X]these being souvenirs

"Steven, dearest, hath thee any 5s?"[X]while playing Go Fish and batting his eyelashes.

"It suits all of them, he thinks but doesn’t say, this trio held together by duct tape and determination and a hell of alot of target practice."[X]Clint, Kate and Lucky the dog.

"Another is a nude, Sherlock in one of his favorite sitting poses with one knee up and his hands wrapped around it, the other leg dangling toward the floor. "[X]the imagery/pose

"Sweet, studious, nervous little Mitaka. Who would never stand head and shoulder above anyone. Who would never take undue risks or tell your secrets. Reasonable, reliable Dopheld Mitaka. Who would never get mad or lash out and always react with kindness and understanding and who could never be impolite and always got the job done. Never thought of himself first. Who only got ahead in life when others failed. Who would always sit quietly and never argue. Never fight back. Never do anything special but who was always useful in his own way until you grew tired of him. Who would never argue when you decided to move on from him. Always stayed down after you’d thrown him there. Who always did the right thing and would never be worth anyone’s."[ch:1]you're such a good listener *bitter feeling*

"he said it was the most painful thing he’d ever felt, the supersoldier easy bake experience included. "[X]very amusing tumblr!

"You are far too modest, my little lightning sister."[X]Thor has some great compliments! "Tony, remember how we talked about the importance of using your words instead of doing weird megalomaniac billionaire things? This was one of those times."[X]i love fan fiction giving us more Darcy!! "Brucie! You know all those times you told us that you weren’t a medical doctor? This is going to be another one of those times where we ignore you."[X]lol "You’re saying that because you think I’ll balance out Steve, aren’t you? I get to be good cop to his bad cop. The fun aunt to his stick-in-the-mud dad routine."[X]hell yeah!

"But [Ben] also learned some less practical things from Artoo.” [Stick that in your dataport and process it!]"[X]nanny C3PO and bad influence R2D2

" quiet of the corridor had begun to make Hux’s ears ring with phantom static"[X]thanks for the words! (As I experience this as I read instead of sleep with a headache.

"I’m sulking, Ren. It’s remarkable you don’t recognize it in another person."[X]sass!

"I’ll add you to the list of approved pillows."[X]cute, sweet and funny fic! Also, check out the author's other Darcy fics! "Good morning to my favorite terrifyingly competent duo, reunited once more."[X]comment

"Hux: "Hey, Kylo, are you sure you're not of the Light Side?" Kylo: "Yes, why?!" Hux: "Because you blind me every time I look at you.""[X]cheesy flirting

" i figured, if she could keep tony from accidentally getting himself killed while rocketing around in a stainless steel onesie, she can talk steve into occasionally actually using a parachute. "[X]bribing Pepper to scold National heroes...

"Bucky looks. He looks for what feels like five solid minutes. Steve’s mind can be a strange place, and it’s not always easy to see where he gets his ideas"[X]my boyfriend can probably relate to this "Except Bucky is almost sure Joseph Rogers never wrapped himself in the American flag and went out to lift a car. Definitely not a shiny red convertible with a license plate that reads CAPTAM, and three chorus girls beaming from the open roof."[X]to draw. "Howling Commandos—they called us Captain America’s legendary strike force, though I really must say that we were just a rabble of con artists with no sense of self-preservation—he was right there next to Steve."[X]yep "But for the record, I like the idea of a smart, scrawny kid living on his wits a lot more than a super-fast, super-strong, deathless demi-god. I relate to that a hell of a lot "[X]comment "Steve might not see reds and greens exactly right, but he’s got all his paint tubes and coloured pencils labelled with painstaking care, and his mathematical mind processes RGB values and hexadecimal codes just fine. "[X]the nerd in me likes this

"but one time he borrowed my dont-touch-me black leather motorcycle jacket and managed to make that look badass for a little while. and then he let a little girl in central park facepaint a sunflower on his left cheek, which pretty much spoiled and sort of badass look he might have been managing. which wasnt much, because he was still wearing khakis."[X]draw

"Knowing that these two men, these goddamned heroes, they love him enough to seehim, enough to take his burden as their own, just for a little while, just so he can rest – it overwhelms him."[X]comment

"Don’t worry. I’ll put him on the stealth team, then only Natasha and Clint’ll have to deal with him, and they’re not afraid to drug a friend."[X]adrenaline leads to talkative Bucky

"Improbably, Parker had found a bag of marshmallows and was using what looked like some kind of electricity-based torture device to toast one over the fire."[X]warning post Leverage finale "Oh, the FBI's giving you grief? Shit, that's no problem. Parker and I are FBI agents."[X]lol

"No stabbity. Social problem, man, you'd hear me yelling if we had a stabbing problem"[X]the joys of having two very different jobs i guess ;)

"Parker put on her red light-up nose and beamed at him, the most lethal reindeer of all."[X]yep! Very Parker - cute and deadly!

"[Peggy Carter is] famous. She’s like the patron saint of women who do things they’re not supposed to do,"[X]comment

"Me and my clockwork boyfriends,” Steve said affectionately. “You two just stay there and charge up; I want round two after breakfast.”"[X]tumblr, copperbadge

"His rumbling, gruff voice warmed Hardison like the artisanal spiced latte he’d perfected for the pub."[X]comment "Just feel how good it is, being together, safe and warm and happy. We’re gonna take good care of you, darlin, love you like you deserve."[X]'really, it’s what the touch means.' "Parker had built such strong defenses, she didn’t know how to crack them."[X]the words! "When it’s just me and Alec, it’s like, I can’t stop thinking. There I am, there he is. I love him, and I want it to be so good, and it can’t be because my brain just goes faster and faster and I can’t feel "[X]words

"Eliot,” he starts, and that’s his gentle voice, the voice he uses on scared clients and Parker when she’s having a melt down."[X]he being Hardison "You’ve left before. We all leave every once in awhile. But you always come back. For us."[X]yeah, sometimes space is needed

"We haven’t fucked in five days and my balls are as blue as Neptune.” “That’s not a description I needed, Barnes,” Sam calls from the open door two flights above them. “Well, blame Steve,” he calls back, “It’s his fucking fault, or his not fucking, really.” "[X]lol

"Steve can barely use Google; Bucky loves Twitter and all things social media. Instagram is the greatest invention in the entire future."[ch1?]where he picked up "as if" "“Ma’am,” is all Bucky can really think to say because he figures this is Wanda and he doesn’t’ like pretty women being afraid of him. Likes it less when they’re practically kids."[ch3]comment "They aren’t afraid of you. They’re afraid of your power being used by someone without your heart.”"[ch3]Awww "Bucky finds himself an empty corner. Sitting against the wall, he pulls his knees to his chest so no one steps on him."[X]relatable

"“And totally lewd.” Yuuri corrects, “anyway, it’s embarrassing.” “Oh, Yuuri.” Sighing, Viktor angles his head to kiss his silly boyfriend. “I’m just trying to get you to see yourself the way I see you." "[X]...

"That explains why Cap keeps looking like a kid lost at a county fair crossed with an angry doberman."[ch1]lol

"Sam, Bucky's been sighted in Budapest, I packed your toothbrush with your socks by accident."[X]comment "Sam's starting to suspect his comic book collection may have lied to him when it came to just how brotherly that relationship was, but hey, no judgement. Only mild concern."[X]comment

"that Bruce is convinced that he deserves about as much trust from everyone else as he gives himself. It’s the difficulty of letting yourself get vulnerable after so many years of being in solitude and having no one."[X]relatable to a degree

"Drachenfutter: (German)- literally “dragon fodder”, the gift a husband gives his wife when he’s trying to make up for bad behavior"[X]dragon fodder is much more fun than dog house! Maybe he's in the dragon den? "“Go on and run yourself out, I’ll meet you on the grass in 45 minutes,” Sam told him. No further prompting needed, Steve took off running."[X]Sam is a great bro "That you’ve ever done something so reckless even a mentally challenged clam would know better?"[X]ha! "And you ran around getting in fights like a snapping turtle on roller skates even before"[X]amusing

"In Bible times, a man would strike with the back of the hand, to show power over someone else. It was a gesture of contempt as well as aggression. But,” he waved his hand to the other side, “If after being struck with the back of the hand, his opponent turned his head and offered the other cheek, the aggressor would have no choice but to strike with the palm—not as a man might beat his oxen, but the way one fights with an equal. So, without raising a hand in retaliation, the persecuted demands to be treated with dignity.”"[X]sounds believable "Wrath is a sin. When we let our anger consume us, when we feed it, tend it the way we should be tending the good in our lives, then it is a sin. Anger and violence are like a river, they can nourish or they can destroy. It’s up to you to determine which.”"[ch1]interesting philosophy "You are still a good man, Captain Rogers. Doubt and anger may hide that from you, but they are shadows, they cannot destroy something as solid and tangible as a soul.""[ch2]comment "Being angry at a man is easy. You forgive him or you do not. Either way, that anger is clear and direct. Being angry at an institution, a country, a church— there is no one place to direct that anger. It scatters like light through a prism. The only thing to do is to decide whether the institution is, at its core, worth saving"[ch2]more philosophy

"All of a sudden, Yuri, without thinking about it very hard, had let all the pieces of agape slip into place inside his head and his heart. His дедушка. Lilia and Yakov. Otabek. Even the piggy and fucking Viktor. No matter how much he yelled and thrashed at him, they were there for him. He wasn’t quite ready to use the word “love” (except *maybe* for дедушка), but he could see. He could understand. He already had friends. Not that he’d ever let any of those fuckers know "[ch1]lol "the words that came out of Yuri’s mouth frequently required translation from angry kitten to human being, and he was determined to begin work on a dictionary. "[ch1]yup! Followed by awww

"He probably looks 9 times as beautiful when it’s just him, just skin, endless scars that all tell his story, that all tell the world ‘I survived’."[X]remember, you're a survivor

"“When you encounter difficulties and contradictions, do not try to break them, but bend them with gentleness and time.”"[X]Francois de Sales ""Have patience with every one, but especially with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections.""[X]Francois de Sales "I’ve been patient, I am patient, and I’m trying but it’s just so hard"[X]Bucky, i relate "Steve takes several deeps breaths in and out and reminds himself that Bucky’s not angry with him, he’s angry near him."[X]Steve, I also relate ""True progress quietly and persistently moves along without notice.""[X]Francois de Sales

"Less talking,” Yuuri pants, tilting his head and hoping Victor will get the message, “more hickeys for me to regret next time I go out in public."[X]comment

"It had been incredibly difficult for Yuuri to try and explain to Viktor that no, there was nothing really wrong, and yet everything was wrong all at once"[X]relatable

"Yūri couldn’t sleep. He twisted and turned in his bed, pulling the sheets up, pushing them back down, stretching out, curling into a ball… it was no use. He couldn’t get comfortable."[X]the words! "When Yūri was dealing with something, he tended to deal with it alone. He didn’t like people thinking he was weak, or that he couldn’t cope"[X]oh...

"As King, there was no reason he had to train the knights himself but according to Arthur, clanking swords and working up a sweat was quite the remedy for the stress of being King."[X]reminds me of my boyfriend.

"Probably because you’re always too distracted by Merlin’s pretty mouth on your cock, husband mine.”"[X]oh. Merlin was shocked by her language!

"Are you undressing my future wife, Merlin?" "Well it is my job to serve, my lord,” [Merlin] said. "[X]cheeky! Good thing he likes him

"And secondly, if getting righteously dicked down by you is going to interfere with my skating, I’m just going to have to learn to do quads with a sore ass."[X]comment

"The only better view is @katsuki-y “Awwww, you’re too good to me,” Victor purred and left the caption, posting it. “I feel like I’m complimenting myself,” Yuuri protested weakly. “As well you should,” Victor answered, "[X]remember. My boyfriend and me.

"No. It was very unfashionable. You were very attractive, though. And your lack of inhibitions regarding clothing was very fashion-forward."[X]amusing, regarding Yurii's tie at THE banquet...

"John had taken days to convince that this could work, but once he’d had his little protest about ‘normal’, he had accepted that he was no more normal than Mary or Sherlock, though marginally better at faking it, "[X]you can fake normal but why? This is the declaration of the marriage between William Sherlock Scott Holmes And John Hamish Watson And Mary Elizabeth Morstan Each one to the other two In love and trust In respect and faith We will all three be true to each other Be friends to each other Cherish each other We will stand by each other And for each other And with each other The secrets of our pasts are our own to keep. The challenges of our future Are our privilege to share We choose each other, we three We choose this life together

"‘Oh yes. My brother. So lovable it takes two people to do it properly"[ch3] "Mrs Holmes’s cheeks dimpled at the way her littlest boy’s eyes lit up and he kept on smiling at his … spice, even though he pretended to be annoyed at all the fuss." Plural of spouse...

"Gwen’s ladies-in-waiting worked hard for her, and they were entitled to the treat of seeing Merlin’s sweet little rounded ass in form-fitting clothing."[x] amusing

"Bet you didn't think you'd be adopting a hyperactive genius and two incredibly attractive senior citizens."

And I see you have your GPS set on me." Bucky nods at Steve’s boxers, and only when Steve looks down does he notice his obvious morning wood jutting out in Bucky’s general direction."[x] "I know it’s just in my head, Steve, but that doesn’t make it any less real!" [Same]

“Your face is true art.”[x]low effort come back to popular art "...how the hell did this happen, it’s Wednesday, she’s retired, and Stella didn’t even do anything this time." [Same] Stucky double genderbent

"Casual touches tended to have that effect on him, and it always tugged at her heart that someone so fundamentally sweet and kind, for all he liked to cover it up, should be so surprised by gestures of affection."[x]relatable

"Steve may not take the best care of himself, but he will never fail to take care of someone he considers a responsibility. Plus, you turned it into a challenge.”[ch3] spot on! "There were two circumstances when he seemed to retreat behind Cap’s shield for safety. Not the physical one, but the emotional equivalent."[ch4] "This kinda thing, though, that’s different. Abstract art boils things down to their basic concepts. A good artist gives you the structure and framework of the story, the tone and mood, but they don’t give you the words. The viewer has to tell the story themselves, and that means it’s always personal. Maybe different every time someone looks at the painting. The artist isn’t telling you a story, they’re giving you one.”[ch4] "In the past few weeks she’d come to realize that he avoided touch almost as much as she did, and yet longed for the contact no less than her. For different reasons, both in the avoidance and the need, but that didn’t make the desire any less real."[ch4] “But it’s yours, and means something to you, yes?” She smiled at him. “So it will mean more to me than the prettiest painting from a stranger.”[ch4] "It made sense that to her, the mind would be the defining feature, rather than appearance."[ch5] "Wanda had lived in the midst of danger for so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be sheltered and protected. The sensation was addicting,"[ch7]either that or it can be confusing to have someone to lean on after much time struggling to be independent

“Sometimes I wonder,” he admitted, sighing. “Sam asked me once what makes me happy, and I couldn’t answer him. I still can’t, beyond ‘helping people’. “Then let’s find out, together,” Wanda suggested, catching his hand in hers and holding tight. “We can start with your favourite movie.””[ch3]

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO CUTE

Fayetos on the mind ever since the game confirmed they are enemies to lovers + bonus GOW3 Kratos because I hate him /pos