#char: maria hill

[nathanavenue]

outfit swaps are in now, yeah?

[womenofmcu]

MARIA HILL The Avengers (2012)

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 18

summary: Char, Nat, and Steve go on a mission to an abandoned HYDRA base and make a harrowing discovery.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: all the feels. all the emotions. all the angst. I know I'm doing the MOST with character development and slow burn and this plot we're building up to, but just stick with me okay! thank you for reading, let me know what you thinkkkk!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

“Your mission briefs are in the folders.” Maria Hill gestured to the small stack of manila envelopes marked ‘classified’ in front of her before clicking a button to begin a three dimensional holographic presentation. “The objective is straightforward and this is not believed to be a combat mission. Your goal is to assess the base and retrieve any potentially valuable information pertaining to HYDRA’s resurgence and future plans. The base has been abandoned for years now, or so we believe.” 

Natasha, Steve, and Charlotte sat around the sleek conference table, their attention focused on the display shimmering before them. The room was dimly lit, the lights turned down to enhance their view of the hologram.

"As you can see, the target location was heavily fortified when it was previously occupied," Maria explained, her voice calm and authoritative as she rotated the display with a wave. "We don’t know how many of those security measures remain in place, or if they’re still monitored at all. Our objective is to gather as much intel as possible without triggering anything that would tip them off that we’re on their trail."

Steve nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he surveyed the holographic map. "We'll operate with caution," he remarked, his tone measured. "We won’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves."

“I appreciate that, Cap, but you’re not the one I want to hear that from.” She raised an eyebrow in Charlotte’s direction. 

Chewing on the end of her pen, Charlotte didn’t notice at first. When she felt the eyes of the other two land on her, she pulled her eyes away from the hauntingly familiar insignia on the outside of the building in front of her. “What? Me? What would I do?”

“Crash a quinjet. Almost blow yourself up. Have a subconsciously triggered psychotic break and try to kill everyone in the vicinity.” Maria shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Hey,” Charlotte held her hands up defensively. “I haven’t given you any reason to think I’d do the last one.” 

“Bucky Barnes might disagree.” She folded her hands across her chest. Her tone was always so even, impossible to detect if her dry sense of humor was showing or just her pragmatic, no-nonsense work tone. 

Leveling a glare at Maria that didn’t phase her one bit, Charlotte sat back in her chair and mock bowed. “You have my word, I will try my absolute darndest not to lose my mind and rain hellfire down on half of Eastern Europe.” 

“Much appreciated.” The smallest smirk tugged at Maria’s mouth before she moved on. 

Charlotte listened intently, her mind already racing with strategic possibilities. Jokes aside, she knew this mission was crucial, not only for gathering vital intelligence but also for proving herself as a capable member of the team. This was her first official mission as an Avenger. She knew the reasoning behind both Steve and Natasha going with her, despite it just being an intelligence mission, was multifaceted. First, there was a possibility that the base was still in undercover operation and they would be walking into a trap. Second, there could be an alarm system in place that would alert any remaining HYDRA forces of their breach and draw them into an ambush. Finally and least pleasantly, Charlotte knew that she was somewhat of a loose cannon. Although she’d proven herself with the attack on the compound, she hadn’t worked in an organized mission format before and she was going to a place with significantly traumatic ties to her past. This wasn’t the facility where she’d been held, but entering any HYDRA territory at all was bound to bring back dark memories. Having two of the most seasoned Avengers with her would be to protect her from everything waiting for them, and to protect everything else from her.

Forty five minutes later when they’d walked through the interior renderings, the terrain map, and the mission plans ad nauseum, Maria concluded the brief and excused herself. 

“You ready for this?” Nat elbowed Charlotte as they stood to head towards the locker room.

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte tucked the manila folder under her arm. “How can I not be with Agent Hill’s heartwarming vote of confidence?”

Steve strode up between them as they crossed into the hallway. Putting his arm around each of their shoulders, he joked, “You’ll be just fine. You’re with two veterans here.” 

“Hey, don’t make me sound old, Rogers.” Nat shoved his arm off of her shoulder and pointed a warning at him. “Let’s not forget I’m the youngest one here by many, many decades.” 

“You ever think they put two of the oldest on a mission with you to keep an eye on you?” He grinned. Nat simply flipped him off and pressed the elevator button to bring them back upstairs to the residential floor. 

When they reached the common room, the chaos of dinnertime greeted them. “Perfect timing, grab a plate,” Wanda called out from her position behind the stove, serving herself what looked like lasagna. They jumped in line, grabbing and filling a plate before joining the rest of the team at the table. The aroma of marinara and freshly baked bread filled the air as the team settled into their unofficial assigned seats, like every other night.

"So, Cap, did Maria give you any more gray hairs?" Sam quipped, raising an eyebrow as he shoveled a steaming forkful into his mouth and immediately winced.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "She tried, but I think I've still got a few years left. Charlotte, on the other hand…she took the brunt of it."

Across the table, Wanda turned her attention to Charlotte, a concerned furrow marring her brow. "How are you feeling about the mission, Charlotte? Nervous?"

Charlotte flashed a reassuring smile. "Nervous? Me? Please." She spread the pasta around on her plate, learning from Sam and letting it cool down. “I think you’ll remember that I was born without the ‘self-preservation’ part of my brain. Well,” She held up her wrist, the thin metal bracelet jangling as she wiggled it. “Born, programmed, whatever.”

“Why was Maria giving you a hard time?” Calla frowned. She’d been joining them for dinner almost every night since she and Sam had finally gone public with their relationship. 

“Maria,” Nat answered for her. “Was reminding us all to keep a low profile, Charlotte in particular. She pointed out that Char hasn’t exactly done that, lately.” 

“Then she proceeded to give examples,” Steve added, fighting his grin as Charlotte rolled her eyes. “It was difficult to contest.”

“I’m feeling a little victimized.” Charlotte reached for the basket in the center of the table holding the rolls.

“So did I when you tried to rip my head off.” Bucky deadpanned, tugging the bread basket just out of her reach. “Both times.”

Pausing, Charlotte met his gaze as she stood, leaning over the table towards him. “Cry me a river.” She plucked a roll out of the basket in front of him, returning to her seat. “You better hope I don’t find the HYDRA secret to brainwashing or you’ll be doing my bidding all day, every day, Barnes.” 

Bucky cocked his eyebrow and ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. Steve, knowing all too well that the look on his best friend’s face meant nothing good, chose that moment to chime in. “Charlotte will do just fine. It’ll be an easy intelligence mission and we’ll be right back here in two days. Just try not to miss us too much.” 

The rest of the meal passed in a blur of the usual good-natured jabs, tossed rolls, and laughter that felt too lighthearted for Charlotte, knowing she was walking straight into the belly of the beast she’d so narrowly escaped from in just over twelve hours. When the dishes were done, lights were flicked off, and bedroom doors were closing, Natasha caught Charlotte’s arm before she disappeared into her room.

"Charlotte, you're more than capable of handling this. Just trust your instincts and rely on your training." She gave a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze. “Try to get at least a little sleep tonight, okay?”

“Deal. Thanks, Nat.” Charlotte did her best to return Natasha’s warm smile, knowing all too well she wouldn’t be sleeping a single minute that night. 

________

The locker room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the overhead lights as Charlotte meticulously checked her gear. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of her suit, double-checking the straps and fastenings to ensure everything was secure. The night had been agonizingly long as sleep continued to evade her. Part of it was her nerves, the way her stomach writhed and twisted just thinking of stepping foot into a HYDRA base again. Part of it was fear of actually falling asleep and finding herself in the midst of an all too familiar nightmare, waking her in a cold sweat. Some of them got so bad she didn’t know if she’d have the balls to step onto the Quinjet if she had one. 

So she just didn’t sleep.

When her alarm had finally gone off, it somehow felt like a mercy from her own thoughts in the dark doom. She was up and out the door in less than a minute. By the time Steve and Natasha joined her in the locker room, she was almost fully suited up.

As she worked, her mind raced with the same thoughts that had kept her up all night. Thoughts warning her that this was a mistake. That she’d narrowly escaped with her life and freedom and to go back into enemy territory was to make a gamble with both. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte forced herself to push aside her doubts and fears. She knew she couldn't afford to let her emotions get the best of her, not when so much was at stake. Although this was a relatively low octane mission, the implications were heavy. Gathering information on HYDRA could prevent future attacks, stall their plans for growth. Today’s mission could be the catalyst to prevent everything she’d lost sleep fearing. 

With a final glance in the mirror, Charlotte straightened her posture, meeting her own somewhat bloodshot green eyes in the reflection. They looked more confident than she felt. Good. I can play a part with the best of them. Her hands absently patted down her body, feeling for the guns holstered on her hips and thighs, the belt fully stocked with tech. 

“Takeoff in ten, Char.” Nat called over her shoulder before leaving her alone in the room. 

Giving her a half-hearted two finger salute, Charlotte watched her disappear fully before bowing her head. She wasn’t sure quite where she stood on religion, but in that moment, she prayed to anyone who would listen to just let her make it out again. Whatever awaited them, she could handle it so long as she made it back to this place with these people. So long as she made it back home. 

“Hey.” A low voice snapped her out of her stupor. She opened her eyes to see Bucky, hair tousled and messy, eyes looking as sleepless as hers, standing in the doorway. He wasn’t dressed for an early morning workout, instead wearing dark sweats and a hoodie. 

“Hey,” She took a step towards him. “You look like hell.”

“Good morning to you, too.” He scowled. “I’d ask if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but something tells me you didn’t sleep at all.” 

“What tipped you off?” Charlotte grit her teeth. 

“I didn’t hear you wake up in a panic.” Bucky didn’t break her gaze. 

Pausing, she shifted her weight, folding her arms across her chest. “You can’t have a nightmare if you don’t sleep.” 

“You need sleep to be at your best today. If you’re foggy, if you miss something today ––” 

Charlotte cut him off, holding a hand up as she moved to push past him. “Look, if you’re just here to lecture me, I’m really not in the mood for  ––”

“I’m not.” Vibranium fingers gripped her waist just above her belt. Setting his jaw, he met her eyes again. “I just wanted to say…just be careful.” A moment of quiet passed between them. “You will be okay. You’re out, and you’re never going to be trapped again.”

From the ever-so-slight break in his voice, Charlotte knew he was talking to himself just as much as he was to her. She also knew it couldn’t have been easy to drag himself out of bed at the ass crack of done to come get touchy feely. It wasn’t lost on her. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” Her words came out breathless. Seeming to realize his hand was still on her waist, Bucky let go. Charlotte caught his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze as she offered a faint smile. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

“See you in two days.” 

________

As the Quinjet sliced through the dark skies en route to Eastern Europe, the atmosphere among the trio was surprisingly light. The hum of the engines provided a steady backdrop to their low conversations, the cabin dimly lit. The sun had finally come up, driving away some of the ominous thoughts of the night along with it. Charlotte was again absently checking her gear when Natasha, sitting across from her, leaned back in her chair with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So, Char, are we gonna talk about when you and Barnes disappeared in New York?” Natasha’s voice was teasing, her smile knowing.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, so first you want to cockblock, and then you want to gossip.”

Steve, looking over his shoulder from where he was maneuvering the jet, raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, was there a need for a cockblock?”

“I guess we’ll never know.” Charlotte shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Nat nudged her chair with a boot. “First it gets all tense and awkward during the game, then you disappear to ‘get another drink’,” She made air quotes with her fingers. “After which, Barnes mysteriously also needs a refill. You’re gone a few minutes, you both come back flushed with a disappointing lack of messy hair or undone buttons.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, if we’re calling out cockblockers, Sam was the one who interrupted in the first place.”.

Steve, now so invested he’d switched the Quinjet to autopilot, turned around in his seat.. "Sam interrupted what, exactly?"

"I mean," Charlotte flushed with a laugh. "I don’t know. Bucky was about to kiss me, I guess—"

Natasha interrupted, her voice triumphant. "Ha! I told you, Rogers! Pay up. Fifty bucks."

Steve chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright. You win."

Curiosity gleamed in Natasha's eyes as she turned her attention back to Charlotte. "So, that’s a far cry from your usual interactions. How do you feel about it?"

Charlotte shrugged nonchalantly, waving them off. "I don’t know, we were both pretty drunk."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a knowing glance before Natasha spoke up again, her tone more serious. "Come on, Charlotte. We know there's something between you and Barnes. You two wouldn't be at each other's throats as much as you are if there wasn't something deeper there."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Nat's right. No one can deny the tension whenever you're in the same room. Have you ever noticed how there’s always someone ready to jump between you two?”

“Yeah, we thought it was to keep you two from tearing each other apart, but maybe it’s actually to keep from tearing each others’ clothes off.” Nat winked, causing Steve to shake his head. 

“Fuck…off…” Charlotte laughed, swatting at Nat’s feet, propped up on her arm rest. 

“Ladies, please.” Steve waved a hand between them, mock breaking up the spat. “Listen, for what it’s worth, and don’t tell him I said this…Bucky wasn’t that drunk last weekend.”

Charlotte sighed, her playful demeanor fading as she grew more introspective. "It's just... confusing, you know? I don't even know where to begin."

Natasha leaned forward. "Well, for starters, Barnes is not the easiest to read." 

“That’s for damn sure.”

Steve nodded in agreement. "But don't underestimate him. Bucky's a good man, Char. He just needs someone who's willing to get past the walls he's built around himself."

Looking down at her hands, Charlotte shook her head before meeting Natasha’s gaze. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on with him. Us.  It’s like... one moment, we’re just roommates, teammates –– whatever. Then, we’re talking at two in the morning because we both had nightmares and we’re bonding over this shared trauma bullshit. Then he’s jumping my ass like he hates me. Then we’re almost crossing a line we’ve never even approached, and the next, it’s like we’re right back to being roommates.”

Natasha’s expression softened. “It’s tough with Bucky. He’s been through a lot, and sometimes, he struggles with letting people in. Even those he cares about deeply. Trust me, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t get so…aggressive.”

Steve nodded, his face serious now. “Nat’s right. Bucky does care about you, Charlotte. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you — and himself — from potential pain. I mean, if he doesn’t know where you stand then he’s not likely to put himself out there at all.”

Charlotte listened, her brow furrowing. “I get that, I really do. But it’s just so frustrating feeling like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. How am I supposed to even figure out how I feel when it’s like we have four different relationships happening at once?”

“Well,” Steve shrugged. “Which relationship do you want to stick?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Rogers.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you ask your bestie and report back to me, hm?”

“Buck and I don’t really talk about things like this.” He chuckled. 

“What do you talk about? Medicare? Viagra?” 

“Not viagra.” Nat pretended to check her nails, this time sending Steve’s face into a full blush as he turned back around to take the controls. When his back was fully turned, she held her hands up, miming a significant length between them as she winked. 

“Oh, gag me,” Charlotte stood up from her chair and stalked towards the back of the jet. 

“Don’t ask me, ask Barnes!” Nat called after her disappearing figure. 

Flipping her off over her shoulder, Charlotte was thankful Nat couldn’t see her grin.

________

The icy winds howled outside the decrepit structure that once served as a HYDRA base, nestled deep in the forests of some country Charlotte had never even heard of. Its walls, blanketed by a thick layer of snow, muffled the sounds of the harsh environment outside. The Quinjet was stashed just outside the treeline, cloaked in stealth mode. 

Steve, Natasha, and Charlotte approached the entrance with practiced silence, their movements precise. They were thankful for the quickly falling snow covering their tracks as they walked, finally reaching the entrance. The door was ajar, hanging crooked on the lower two hinges, swinging gently in the frigid breeze. Aside from the whistling wind, the creaking of the door was the only sound across the eerily silent clearing. Nat shot Charlotte a sidelong look, one final check to make sure she was okay before they crossed the threshold. Nodding, Charlotte fell into line behind Steve as they stepped out of the elements and into the dark building. A thick layer of dust swirled up from the ground as their boots disturbed it.

“Looks like no one’s been here for years,” Steve whispered, his shield ready as he peeked inside the shadowed hallway. “But stay sharp. We don’t know what’s left behind.”

Natasha nodded, pulling out her compact field device. “Charlotte, you’re with me. We need to find the main server room. There’s a good chance they left data behind, not expecting anyone to come back to this hellhole.”

Charlotte nodded, ignoring the way her stomach turned as she followed Natasha, her hands hovering above the pistols holstered on her hips. This building was hundreds of miles from where she’d been kept, but the interior similarities were uncanny. From the smell of gunpowder and antiseptic to the haunting emblem stamped on every door, the only difference was the lack of lowlife psychopaths crawling the place. The hallway was lined with old propaganda posters, the edges curled and the faces faded. Every step they took kicked up a new symphony of dust, dancing in the beams of their flashlights. She fought to stay present, stay in the headspace of an Avenger on a mission rather than a terrified girl in way over her head. Pretend. Play a part. Be like Natasha. Her breathing evened out as she forced herself to observe Nat, to catalog her every move. The slight bend to her knees as she crept forward, the way her head swiveled from side to side as she cleared each room, even her heart rate, faintly perceptible through her armor. As Charlotte tailored her own movements to those of Natasha, she felt her own heart rate slow. Mimic. Emulate. That’s what she was good at. That’s what would get her through this.

Reaching the server room, the door creaked as they pushed it open. Charlotte tried not to cringe at the loud noise, the fear that it would awaken some long dormant evil in this place. Inside the room, rows of ancient computers and servers hummed with a surprising flicker of life, the green lights blinking in the semi-darkness.

“Looks like we’re in luck, electricity hasn’t been cut off here,” Natasha murmured, setting up her device to interface with the HYDRA technology. “Char, keep an eye on the door. I need a few minutes here.”

Charlotte positioned herself by the doorway, her senses heightened. The silence was oppressive, filled only by the distant whir of outdated machinery and Natasha’s steady breathing as she worked.

Minutes stretched into an eternity. Charlotte’s thoughts drifted to Bucky, to both of their sleepless nights. She wondered if he’d been on missions that took him back into the belly of the beast, if he’d been as terrified as she was. 

A soft beep from Natasha’s device cut through the silence. “Got something,” Natasha announced, her voice a mix of relief and urgency. “There are references to a new base of operations, coordinates embedded in an encrypted file. I’m downloading it now.”

“Good work, Nat,” Steve’s voice crackled over the comms, ever vigilant. “Wrap it up. I don’t like how exposed we are here.”

As Natasha hurriedly collected the last pieces of data, Charlotte felt a shiver that wasn’t from the cold. It was the realization that this mission, seemingly quiet, was just the precursor to something much larger. They were on the brink of uncovering a resurgence that could threaten their fragile peace. She’d told herself she just had to get through this mission, to quell her fears for today, and then she could breathe. This data…the trail to a new base, the source of the attack…this was far from over. A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine and she prayed Natasha didn’t notice. 

With the data secured, they retraced their steps, making their way back towards where Steve was positioned at the entrance. As they emerged into the final hallway, the biting cold seeped through the broken door, washing over them with a sobering chill.

“Let’s head back,” Steve said, his voice resolute. “Good work you two. We need to get this to SHIELD.”

With the data secured and the team poised to leave, a sudden, inexplicable intuition halted Charlotte. "Wait," she said abruptly, her voice echoing slightly in the now silent corridor.

Steve turned, his brow furrowed in concern. "Charlotte, we need to move. It's risky to linger."

"I know, but... I remember something," she insisted, her voice threaded with uncertainty. Her mind was flickering with disjointed memories, not her own but somehow familiar—whispers of conversations overheard from her past.

Natasha looked concerned. "What is it?"

"There’s... a basement. Hidden. I'm sure of it. They mentioned it once, back when I was being briefed on potential locations to track Buck––the Winter Soldier to. They thought he might try to target the smaller bases when he got free. They were especially concerned with beefing up security for this one…this place was important, not just a random outpost."

Steve's tactical mind battled with his protective instincts. "We don’t have much time," he warned, but his gaze softened. "Make it quick."

Nodding, Charlotte led them down a forgotten hallway, her eyes scanning for any sign of a concealed entrance. Her hand brushed against the wall, and she felt a subtle, almost imperceptible seam. Pressing against it, a portion of the wall gave way, revealing a narrow stairwell spiraling down into darkness. Both of them covered their mouth with their arms, avoiding the cloud of dust and debris that flooded the air.

"Good call," Natasha murmured, lighting the path with her flashlight as they descended.

The air grew colder as they reached the basement, a small, shadow-filled room that reeked of secrets long buried. Along one wall, files and documents were preserved in sealed cabinets. Natasha quickly began sifting through them, her hands skilled and efficient. Charlotte did the same across the room, making quick work of the folders there.

Charlotte’s heart thudded painfully as she pulled out a dust-covered file marked with a stark, black HYDRA stamp and the words "Winter Soldier Projekt." 

Breath catching in her throat, Charlotte opened the dusty file with trembling fingers. She skimmed for only a few seconds before slamming it closed, heart pounding. The contents––the little she saw–– were chilling. On the first page alone, there was a detailed log of the original experiments conducted on Bucky during World War II, complete with photographs and medical reports. Considering the folder was at least two fingers thick, the thought of what else was contained in those pages made her want to vomit. She turned her attention back to the cabinet and found another two folders marked with the same project name. 

“Find anything?” Nat crossed the room before her eyes landed on the folders in Charlotte’s hand. "Oh, shit…this...this could be the parts of his past he's still trying to piece together."

Charlotte’s expression was grim. "He deserves to see this. Whether or not he reads it is up to him.”

Silently nodding, Natasha grabbed a stack of files she’d deemed important enough to take and turned for the door, Charlotte right on her heels. With the additional files secured, the gravity of their discovery pressing down on them, they ascended back to the ground level. The mission had been a success, but had unearthed more than they had bargained for, casting a shadow that would follow them back home. 

"Let's get out of here." Steve said again, his voice firmer this time, an edge underlying his calm as he read the expressions on both women’s faces.

As they emerged into the gray, sunless day, the German landscape bleak and unwelcoming around them, Charlotte felt a mix of triumph and trepidation. They had retrieved crucial information, hadn’t been intercepted or ambushed, and yet…this felt like they’d taken a massive blow. The emotional implications, especially for Bucky, loomed large—her heart ached for him and the pain he’d face when they got back. 

They quickly and quietly ascended the ramp into the Quinjet, taking their seats as Steve took them out of enemy territory. When they were safely soaring above the clouds, Natasha motioned for him to let her take over. “Take a look at what Charlotte found.” Her grim voice caught his attention.

​​Steve shifted in his seat, the low hum of the Quinjet the only noise as he turned and faced where Charlotte was seated. He noticed the tight set of Natasha’s jaw, the unusual tension in her shoulders. Charlotte sat looking equally somber, eyes glassy,  a thick file clasped tightly in her hands. The atmosphere was thick with a kind of urgency that made his stomach tighten.

"Steve, it’s about Buckyt," Charlotte said quietly as she handed him the file. Her eyes were shadowed, suggesting she’d already seen the horrors it contained.

Taking the file, Steve felt the weight of it, not just in physical terms but in what it represented. He opened it slowly, almost hesitantly, the pages filled with dense text and black-and-white photographs that made his stomach convulse. As his eyes scanned the documents, detailing operations and experiments carried out during the war, his expression darkened.

He paused on a photograph, a stark, haunting image of Bucky strapped to a chair, machinery and wires surrounding him, protruding from everywhere imaginable. Bucky hadn’t even liked the doctor when they were kids, so this…Steve’s hands trembled slightly, the image hitting far too close to home, a vivid reminder of his failure to protect his friend when he needed him the most.

Natasha watched him closely out of the corner of her eyes, her voice softening. “We had no idea about some of these details. The depth of what they did—”

“It’s monstrous,” Steve interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He continued flipping through the file, each page turn revealing another layer of the nightmare Bucky had endured. Reports of prolonged exposure to mind-altering techniques, physical endurance tests, and surgical manipulations filled the pages.

Closing the file abruptly, Steve looked up, his eyes clouded with pain and anger. “We shouldn’t be reading this. Not before he does…I mean, fuck,” His uncharacteristic swear jarred Nat and Charlotte. “I mean, do we even show him this? Or does this just set him back? He’s worked so hard, he’s finally been getting past some of the nightmares…I just––”

Charlotte reached out, her hand briefly touching his arm in a gesture of support. “It will be hard. Really fucking hard. I…I would want to know, though.”

Steve nodded slowly, the resolve setting into his features. “We’ll leave it up to him, give him a choice. We owe him that much.” He let out a slow breath as he put the files into an empty seat next to Charlotte.

As the Quinjet cut through the clouds, the cabin was filled with a tense silence, broken occasionally by the soft clacking of buttons and the murmur of the aircraft's systems. Charlotte sat near the communications array, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the metal surface, her mind racing with the weight of the files just a foot away from her. The atmosphere of the ride home was a far cry from the ride there, laughter and jokes felt impossible at the moment. They hadn’t even called back for the mission report, putting it off as long as possible as they debated whether or not to submit the files to SHIELD’s official records, where they’d be available to everyone in the organization. When they could ignore the comm requests no longer, Steve finally gave in.

"Patch through to Maria Hill," Steve instructed Charlotte, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency.

Charlotte nodded and quickly set the frequencies. A moment later, Maria's voice filled the cabin, clear and commanding. "Report, team. How did the mission go?"

"We secured the intel we were after," Natasha replied, glancing at Charlotte with a hint of concern. "But there's something else, Maria. It's about Bucky—files from his time with HYDRA during the war. They were hidden in a basement, in a concealed wing of the base. Charlotte located it. These files are…we’d like these to be handled with the utmost discretion."

There was a brief pause. "Understood," Maria responded, her tone turning somber. "Standard protocol dictates a full briefing with all operatives. However, I'm aware of the sensitivity of this information regarding Sergeant Barnes."

Charlotte’s voice was quiet but firm as she joined in. "Maria, I think it might be best if I briefed him privately first. This is personal and could be quite a shock. He trusts me, and it might be easier for him to process this with someone he's close to. Of all of us…" She glanced at Steve, praying she wasn’t stepping on his toes. “I understand this. What this will be like. I would want to be able to process it privately, maintain some dignity.”

There was another pause, longer this time. "I understand the delicacy of the situation," Maria finally said. "You have the go-ahead, Rossi. Brief Barnes privately. Depending on his reaction and the relevance of the information, we can decide how to proceed with the rest of the team. You have official clearance to classify the information until then."

A collective breath was let out across the cabin.

"Thank you, Maria," Charlotte said, her relief palpable even through the static of the comms. 

“Stay in stealth mode, we’ll see you when you get back. Good work, team.” Maria signed off, all business as usual.

Steve sat back, concern etched on his face. "You okay with this, Charlotte? It’s a heavy burden and Bucky doesn’t have a history of reacting…well to difficult information.”

She took a deep breath, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her knees. "It needs to be me. There’s a level of…shame that comes with finding out what was done to you. What you couldn’t stop. As much as he loves you, both of you, it will be harder to hear from you. Me? I’m already a walking reminder of his past. I understand it better than anyone. If he gets mad, I can take it, but…it needs to be me.”

Steve nodded, giving her a faintly reassuring smile as he turned back to the control panel.

For the remaining hours of the flight, the Quinjet soared through the sky, carrying its crew and their heavy cargo of secrets back home, each member lost in their own thoughts about the implications of their findings.

________

It was early evening by the time they touched back down at the compound.

Steve and Natasha had given Charlotte reassuring nods as they left her alone in the locker room, holding the files and steeling herself for the hardest conversation of her life. Deciding that waiting would only make it worse, she set off to find Bucky without even changing out of her uniform.

The final rays of sun streamed through the windows of the training room cast long shadows as Charlotte entered. The sound of punching and the rhythmic thud of a heavy bag swinging greeted her, slightly echoing in the large space. Bucky, his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, was relentlessly driving his fists into the bag. He paused, breathing heavily, as he noticed Charlotte standing in the doorway.

"Hey, you’re back,” he greeted, a small smile fleeting across his lips. “Glad to see you made it out and didn’t shit the bed,” Noticing the seriousness of her expression and the file clutched in her hands, he grabbed a towel, wiping his face as he walked over to her. "What’s wrong?"

“Hey, Buck.” Charlotte shifted, the file almost feeling heavier in her grasp. "It’s something we found at the base. It’s about... It’s about you. From during the war." She offered it out but he only stared at it.

Bucky's demeanor shifted as he read the label, the lines of his face hardening. "Who else has seen it?"

"Nobody, Bucky. I found it, and I’ve kept it safe. Only glanced through it enough to know it’s important, and personal." She met his gaze firmly, conveying her sincerity. "Even Steve didn’t feel right reading it. It’s been with me since I found it."

He nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the file then back to her. "And if I decide I don’t want to know?"

"That’s completely up to you," Charlotte reassured him softly. "We’ve classified it from SHIELD. This is yours, Bucky. Only yours. You don’t ever have to read it if you don’t want to."

Bucky took a deep breath, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. After a long moment, he reached out and took the file from her. "Will you... stay?"

"Of course," she replied without hesitation, her voice gentle, albeit a little breathless from her own nerves.

They moved to a corner of the room where a small bench sat. Bucky took a seat, Charlotte settling beside him, close enough for support, yet giving him space to breathe. He opened the file slowly, his eyes scanning the first page, the photos paperclipped in. As he flipped through, his body tensed with each page turned, the horrors of his past laid bare in black and white. She knew in her bones that the glassy look in his eye meant he was reliving hell right in front of her.

Charlotte watched him, her heart aching with each crease that formed on his brow, each slight twitch of his jaw. It wasn’t difficult to avert her eyes from the file, knowing that the information contained there was not only deeply personal to Bucky, but highly likely to fuel her own nightmares. When he finally closed the file somewhere around the halfway mark, his eyes were glassy, his face pale. His body was rigid, as if bracing against a storm. Abruptly, he stood up, the file slipping from his hands and fluttering to the floor, papers scattering across the floor. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, and then he crumpled in front of a trash can in the corner, his body convulsing as he vomited violently.

Instantly, Charlotte dropped to her knees by his side, her hands tenderly holding back his hair, rubbing absently up his back. She stayed close, unafraid, as he shuddered with the force of his reaction.

When the waves of nausea finally subsided, Bucky shifted, leaning his back against the cool metal of the wall. Charlotte turned beside him, her hands trailing across his shoulders, tugging him towards her. Bucky leaned in, his body trembling as silent tears began to stream down his face. With a gentle but firm touch, she pulled him closer, letting his head rest against her chest. His arms wrapped around her waist as his shaking intensified.

Charlotte held him tightly, her hand soothingly stroking his back, creating a small sanctuary against the rest of the world. They remained there on the floor, the only sounds in the room being Bucky’s soft cries and the muffled sounds of the outside world going on as usual, unaware of the pain only a wall away. She didn’t even feel the tightness in her muscles from sitting in one place for so long, didn’t feel the hard floor beneath her. All Charlotte felt was the warmth from Bucky, the damp tears soaking into her skin beneath her suit, the shaking of his body against her. 

She lost track of how long they sat there. Lost track of her hunger and time and the rest of the world. As far as she was concerned, her world was contained within the four walls of this room. There wasn’t a force on Earth that could take her out of it.

[skaruresonic]

The double standard gets more annoying when you realize fandom don't ACTUALLY care for canon...if it means abitrarily bringing back chars or reffing stuff

Like, fans are mad Iizuka didn't know what Choco Island from Tails Advejtures was regarding Forces dev. Ignoring that it's NOT a game made by Sonic Team, and very blatantly contradicts Tails having low self esteem and being bullied before he met Sonic (then you have other Aspect Games do dumb shit that contradicts Sonic Team stuff, along with weird rehash of Green Hill). I'm aware Sonic Channel recently reffed it last year, but notably don't mention events of the game. Same for Fang being canonized, Triple Trouble isn't mentioned

People hype up Emerl being in the Shadow short ignoring that the literal diary entries note that Shadow wasn't even awakened yet. At least one can argue that Doom was mem hacking, but people genuinely believe that the memory is legit and don't care cuz "OMG, SHADOW VS EMERL FIGHT"

Same for people treating Neo Metal as a basic Super Form that can kick Sonic's ass, when no, it's just a recepticle to gaining DNA needed to tutn inyo a Perfect Chaos based form

A lot of this really just boils down to "canon be damned, I want char fights, or any game is canon cuz Aaron Webber said so"

It's a mess

People hype up Emerl being in the Shadow short ignoring that the literal diary entries note that Shadow wasn't even awakened yet.

Admittedly I couldn't remember the content of Gerald's Battle diary entries, so I had to look them up. Reading through them, I realized that Shadow fighting Emerl renders Gerald's problems nonsensical in hindsight due to the way establishing Links works, as stated by Battle.

In addition, Gerald says it was the researchers who managed to subdue Emerl and seal him away. For some reason, the researchers kept giving Emerl more and more weapons to absorb:

---

Journal 5

The higher ups are threatening to shut down this research facility. I had no choice but to hand them the Gizoid to buy more time for my research. I tried to be careful and commanded it to never absorb any dangerous technologies. However, I have heard that other researchers have been making the Gizoid absorb weapons. Apparently, the way to cause the Gizoid to form a new "Link" is to show it power that surpasses that of its former master. While this poses immense danger, I cannot risk losing Maria.

---

Journal 6

My worst fears have come true. The Gizoid has absorbed enough weaponry and technology that it has started to go out of control. The resulting rampage resulted in the destruction of most of the "Ark." ... I have deciphered the rest of the stone tablet. It says, "When the Gizoid had learned all that it could, it became a god of wrath, and all was destroyed." The researchers somehow managed to subdue the Gizoid and sealed it away. Luckily, it only had one "Chaos Emerald" installed. If it were to have all 7 Emeralds installed, it might destroy the whole planet. The Gizoid is too much of a liability. I tried destroying its core, but nothing I did worked. I understand too little of the technology that built him. My best hope is to try and reprogram its AI into a free-willed, emotions-based AI...

---

Assuming this fight is indeed real, and that Shadow wins, that raises an entire slew of problems.

If Shadow fights Emerl, and inadvertently establishes a Link with the Gizoid by defeating him, Gerald's dilemma vanishes instantly.

All Gerald would have to do then is order Emerl to follow Shadow the way Sonic did:

Therefore, Gerald would have no reason to "try and reprogram its AI into a free-willed, emotions-based AI" in a last-ditch effort to bring the Gizoid to heel. He would have had no reason to install the final program or a soul identical to Maria's into Emerl. The events of Sonic Battle would never happen in the first place. Shadow's interference would have rendered his efforts moot.

tfw the fight is so peak that it threatens to break canon

Now, again, granted, this scenario is predicated on the assumptions that

A.) the fight is real; if it isn't, I just have to question why our time is being wasted on a fake scenario,

and B.) Shadow wins the fight. If he loses and Emerl goes on to destroy the ARK, that'd be another issue - how do the researchers manage to subdue him where Shadow cannot? And wouldn't that kind of feed into Shadow's complex about being unable to protect Maria?

Idk, the implications become weird and untenable the more you think about them. Maybe Black Doom really is sticking Shadow in a scenario where he makes him feel as WEEEEEAK as a certain masked villain, but I must ask once again what the point of that is. I ain't playing SxS Gens just to watch this motherfucker get woobified, you know what I mean?

---

I'm aware Sonic Channel recently reffed it last year, but notably don't mention events of the game.

Just because ST references things doesn't necessarily make them canon.

(coughs)

---

Same for people treating Neo Metal as a basic Super Form that can kick Sonic's ass, when no, it's just a recepticle to gaining DNA needed to tutn inyo a Perfect Chaos based form

A Super form? Why?

Metal couldn't complete his transformation without everyone's data and Chaos' ability to metamorphize. In Charmy's words: "Incomplete freak!"

---

A lot of this really just boils down to "canon be damned, I want char fights, or any game is canon cuz Aaron Webber said so"

It's a mess

Peak fiction often hinges on the aesthetics of a scene rather than the logistics. Who cares if Shadow fighting Emerl is so acanonical that it has the potential to retcon Sonic Battle as an entire game? It feels right, therefore it must be right.

Personally, I feel like it detracts from both Shadow's backstory and the ARK's unique identity as a research facility somewhat to have all of these disparate elements link (pun not intended) back to Shadow in some way. The ARK needs to be able to stand as a bastion of scientific progress on its own merits, with all the implications that brings to the table, and not just be regarded solely as Shadow's birthplace.

It should be stressed that the ARK developed tools of destruction alongside projects of medicine and healing. That is worth taking into consideration when examining the colony's purpose as a whole.

When people speak about the colony's darker underbelly, they tend to portray its horrors as those of unethical medical experimentation. In actuality, the real horrors reside more in the general territory of the politics of WMD development. "What the fuck did they have to create a planet-destroying cannon for? Who commissioned it? Why? What was its intended use?"

SA2 and Battle both touched upon the dangers of weapons of mass destruction. In particular, the ethical considerations and mindset of those who created them. These themes reflected the cultural anxiety of the early aughts concerning their development and use.

SA2 is more subtle in that it leaves Gerald's motivations in developing such a weapon ambiguous - Eggman raising questions of whether it was Gerald's legacy and intent to destroy mankind. Battle, on the other hand, is so blatantly anti-war that you're practically hearing War Pigs by Sabbath in the background.

The Gizoid counts as a WMD. Nothing can prevent it from going on a rampage and destroying everything, and flexing your power in order to retain control only escalates risk the more you do it. The only real effective countermeasure Gerald could think of was to give it a soul to dissuade it from ever pressing the nuke launch button. Or, in more allegorical terms, temper one's destructive impulses via conscience.

It takes Eggman forcibly overpowering and dehumanizing Emerl in order to reduce him to a WMD again. Except he loses control of Emerl immediately thereafter and winds up having his Final Egg Blaster getting aimed at the Earth without his consent, much like how nuclear bombs cause indiscriminate destruction.

It's such a brilliant and multi-tiered message, artfully delivered by Battle. Which is why it becomes undercut if we can have Shadow solve Gerald's problem in an instant.

[sporadiceagleheart]

This is Thursday April 11th 2024 is for those victims that was gunned down and also for the Manchester Arena victims that was bombed down as well they aren't just rappers wrestlers kids or dreamers but they are angels sent back to heaven Ava Jordan Wood, Olivia Pratt Korbel, Saffie Rose Roussos, Pop Smoke, Young Dolph, Tupac Shakur and Christopher George Latore Wallace, Natalia Victoria Wallace, Shinzo Abe, Abraham Lincoln, Dr. Rev, Martin Luther King Jr., Secoriea Turner, Royta De'Marco Layfield Giles Jr., Davon McNeal, Dajore Wilson, Mekhi James, Judith and Maria Barsi, Janari A. Ricks, Carolyn Kay “Katy” Davis, Christiana Mae “Chrissy” Duarte, Shirley Virginia Ferrell Drouet, Stacee Ann Etcheber, Brisenia Ylianna Flores, Keri Lynn Galvan, Christian Riley Garcia, Angela Christine “Angie” Gomez, Jaime Taylor Guttenberg, Nicole Marie Hadley, Caitlin Millar Hammaren, Linda Sue Miller Hathorn, Aubrey Wright Hawkins, Demetrius C. “D” Hewlin, Rachael Elizabeth Hill, Emily Jane Hilscher, Dawn Alyson Lafferty Hochsprung, Anah Michelle Hodges, Winter Ashley Hodges, Kenzie Marie Houk, Lisa Rachelle Huff Huff, Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Caleb Curtis Jackson, Dwayne Clifford Jackson Jr., Honesty Faith Jackson, Jonah Curtis Jackson, Trinity Hope Jackson, Jessica Jeanette James, Veronica Lynn “Tina” Jefferson, SGT Kent Dean Kincaid, Lawrence Fobes “Larry” King, Kandy Janell Kirtland, Russell Dennis King Jr., Amy Michelle Kitchen, Carly Anne Buchholtz Kreibaum, Matthew Joseph La Porte VVETERAN, Cara Marie Loughran, Trayvon Benjamin Martin, Rhonda M. LeRocque, Rebecka Ann Carnes, Adriana “Adri” Dukić, Cassie Bernall, Ross Abdallah Alameddine, Arielle Anderson, Lucero Alcaraz, PnB Rock, Nipsey Hussle, Takeoff, Dayvon Daquan Bennett, Jahseh Dwayne Onfroy, Janette Becraft, Eddie Graham, Shannon Claire Spruill, Dino Bravo, Lena Marie Nunez-Anaya, Sincere Gaston, Rebecka Ann Carnes, Annabelle Renee Pomeroy, Darius “DJ” Dugas II, Jason Leonard Abbott, Hannah Lassette Magiera Ahlers, Tammy Jo Alexander, Alyssa Miriam Alhadeff, Teresa Carol Allen, Cory Adam Andrewski, Thomas Aquinas Ashton, Charlotte Helen “Char” Bacon, Daniel Gerard “Danny” Barden, Carrie Rae Barnette, and more

[hansologeek]

Do I Look Like Your Girlfriend?

Maria from "Silent Hill 2 Remake" Fan Art

Background chars (left to right):

Mary Sunderland

Laura

Cybil Bennett

Angela Orosco

Heather Mason

[jxrm]

book log - 2017

tampa by alissa nutting

turtles all the way down by john green

vegas girls by heather skyler

class mom by laurie gelman

anne of green gables by l.m. montgomery

the identicals by elin hilderbrand

quidditch through the ages by j.k. rowling

the breakdown by b.a. paris

final girls by riley sager

audition by ryu murakami

gray wolf island by tracey neithercott

the stranger beside me by ann rule

one of us is lying by karen m. mcmanus

the call by peadar o gullin

a thousand nights by e.k. johnston

the library at mount char by scott hawkins

tender morsels by margo lanagan

rings by koji suzuki

the good daughter by karin slaughter

because you love to hate me by amerie

the party by robyn harding

primates of park avenue by wednesday martin

you by caroline kepnes

someday, someday, maybe by lauren graham

the hating game by sally thorne

eleanor oliphant is completely fine by gail honeyman

shine by lauren myracle

when dimple met rishi by sandhya menon

you can have a dog when i'm dead by paul benedetti

it's always the husband by michele campbell

princeless: raven the pirate princess by jeremy whitley

princeless: free women by jeremy whitley

goodbye, vitamin by rachel khong

sabine's notebook by nick bantock

always and forever, lara jean by jenny han

talking as fast as i can by lauren graham

three wishes by liane moriarty

behind closed doors by b.a. paris

dark places by gillian flynn

behind her eyes by sarah pinborough

baby proof by emily giffin

american gods by neil gaiman

confessions of a domestic failure by bunmi laditan

wedding night by sophie kinsella

you suck by christopher moore

night film by marisha pessi

the subtle art of not giving a fuck by mark manson

let's explore diabetes with owels by david sedaris

the here and now by ann brashares

it started with goodbye by christina june

murder games by elisabeth crabtree

the enchantress returns by chris colfer

down the rabbit hole by holly madison

women who run with the wolves by clarissa pinkola estes

goons n' roses by donna joy usher

the silent wife by a.s.a. harrison

cocoa and chanel by donna joy usher

secondhand souls by christopher moore

the seven steps to closure by donna joy usher

stranger than fanfiction by chris colfer

you are here by jenny lawson

killing mr. griffin by lois duncan

a dirty job by christopher moore

joyland by stephen king

irrestible by adam alter

small great things by jodi picoult

stranger with my face by lois duncan

the vegas diaries by holly madison

the potluck club by linda evans shepard

the girl with the dragon tattoo by stieg larsson

the wishing spell by chris colfer

one less problem without you by beth harbison

saving ceecee honeycutt by beth hoffman

in the country we love by diane guerrero

the last anniversary by liane moriarty

i woke up dead at the mall by judy sheehan

remembrance by meg cabot

girl in translation by jean kwok

very good lives by j.k. rowling

milk and honey by rupi kaur

my grandmother asked me to tell you she's sorry by fredrik backman

the screwtape letters by c.s. lewis

reconstructing amelia by kimberly mccreight

how to fall in love by cecelia ahern

wild by cheryl strayed

NOS4A2 by joe hill

year of yes by shonda rhimes

troublemaker by leah remini

the summer we read gatsby by daniella ganek

the miraculous journey of edward tulane by kate dicamillo

sorry not sorry by naya rivera

the circle by dave eggers

the woman in cabin 10 by ruth ware

boneshaker by cherie priest

time cat by lloyd alexander

the color purple by alice walker

all the light we cannot see by anthony doerr

the princess bride by william goldman

when breath becomes air by paul kalanthi

the wangs vs. the world by jade chang

mischiling by affinity konar

sarong party girls by cheryl lu-lien tan

nine woman, one dress by jane l. rosen

the light between oceans by m.i. stedmaan

magonia by maria dahvana headley

the restaurant critic's wife by elizabeth laban

the couple next door by shari lapena

the wedding sisters by jamie brenner

how to be a bawse by lilly singh

where am i now? by mara wilson

scrappy little nobody by anna kendrick

double cup love by eddie huang

little girl gone by gerry schmitt

truly madly guilty by liane moriarty

something in between by melissa de la cruz

rich people problems by kevin kwan

modern romance by aziz ansari

yes, my accent is real by kunal nayyar

the girl on the train by paula hawkins

we should hang out sometime by josh sundquist

love ltters to teh dead by ava dellaira

what alice forgot by liane morairty

bringing it home by tilda shalof

the maintenance man by michael baisden

charlie and the great glass elevator by roald dahl

the princess diaries by meg cabot

[7r0773r]

The Love of Singular Men by Victor Heringer, translated by James Young

1

In the beginning, our planet was hot, sickly yellow and stank of stale beer. The ground was black with boiling, clinging mud.

The outer suburbs of Rio de Janeiro were the first things to come into this world, even before the volcanoes and the sperm whales, before Portugal invaded, before President Getúlio Vargas ordered the construction of social housing. Queim, where I was born and grew up, is one of those suburbs. Tucked between Engenho Novo and Andaraí, it was made from that primordial sludge, which coagulated into various shapes: stray dogs, flies and steep hills, a train station, almond trees and shacks and houses, neighborhood bars and arsenals of war, haberdasheries and jogo do bicho lottery stands and an enormous swathe of land reserved for the cemetery. But it was all still empty: there were no people.

They didn't take long. The streets collected so much dust that man had no choice but to come into being to sweep them. And in the late afternoons, to sit on the porch and moan about poverty, bad-mouth others and gaze out at the pavements stained by the sun, the buses coming back from work coating the world with dirt again.

2

I read in one of my schoolbooks that, near the hottest parts of the earth, there existed a race of people that despised the sun. * The men hurled insults in its direction five times a day and prayed joyfully when night fell. At the first glimpse of its rays, the women covered their heads and eyes with plain muslin, just as they did when they buried their dead, and only uncovered themselves at dusk. Because of the sun, these people were black and their continent was called Africa.

Though I'm so white I'm almost green, I am a child of this people. I've hated the sun since I was a kid, but all my life it's been licking me like a puppy. I've learned to tolerate its presence, occasionally even believed I loved it, but it's no good: I hate the sun. I mutter obscenities at it five times a day.

In the school holidays of 1976, I was thirteen. The summer hadn't even really begun and my skin was already peeling for the third time. My arms and shoulders, inflamed with tiny blisters, soon shed strips of dead tissue. My nose had a new layer of charred skin. I couldn't brush my hair because of my toasted scalp, nor sleep because of my back. It was almost noon already.

We'd been in the pool since morning. Joana, my younger sister, dived, floated and giggled, wearing only her bikini bottoms, despite her already swollen nipples. I couldn't swim, so I had to sit on the edge of the pool, with my feet in the water and my thighs on the hot granite, watching the sun slowly nibble away at the patches of shade. Sitting on the second-floor balcony, Maria Aína kept an eye on us while Paulina, the maid, took care of lunch, and the dust.

By my childish calculations, Maria Aína must have been around 279 years old. She lived in the neighborhood and looked after us whenever Mama asked. (I don't know if she got paid.) She was born right here in Queim, died here and lived here, in a shack that had been around since the days when the neighborhood was a farm. She'd never been outside Rio—the furthest she'd ever traveled was Jurema, where the spirits of the Indians dwell.

She gave long whistles as she breathed, like an old animal, and had witnessed the birth of every living person, including my dad. Thin, the daughter of slaves, she spoke the tongue of her great-great-grandparents when she didn't want to be understood. When she looked at green fruit it would ripen. She'd make pumpkin compote on the Day of Saints Cosmas and Damian, and bring it to us still warm. I've never forgotten the taste, or how the crunchy shell would break to reveal the gritty, pulpy cream. We were the first to eat it, after the spirits: she'd leave a bowlful in the woods for them. The pumpkin would shrivel up and vanish. That's how spirits eat.

Maria Aína liked me because I'd been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, just like her. "Anyone born that way will always be on the edge of trouble, ossí Camilo," she told me, years later, only days before she died. (pp. 11-13)

***

We had no idea of the problems that had plagued our parents' marriage in recent months. We didn't even know who ran the country. We lived under the weird dictatorship of childhood: we looked but didn't see, listened but understood nothing, spoke and were largely ignored. But we were happy under that regime. Like a thick shroud, the fabric of our young lives shielded us completely. (pp. 14-15)

***

How tedious, people. The artists on TV, in the sci-fi films and mystery dramas, the little Napoleons, the bridge jumpers and the sad poets ... They're all just the negatives of the same tedium, the other side of a coin that was always dull, stick it up your ass! the life of one person is exactly like the life of another, all that changes is the address. And there aren't that many elements in the universe, all of them classifiable. From a shell to the shelling of Gaza there's not much difference. Listen to this, ocean and explosion both sound like waves. Between a man and a rat, there are only three hundred genes of difference. (pp. 86-87)

***

Every idyll ends in a storm, and from storm to flood only takes a couple of hours. Everyone knows how terrible our sewage system is, the underground pipes and tunnels, mayors come, mayors go ... The flood soon becomes a deluge, and the deluge, an ocean. And then the mourning begins, which is slow and quiet on the surface of the water, but fertile in the depths: the plankton soon appears, corals form, fish and algae and octopuses and schools of dolphins are born and whales spit water upward and at some point the bereaved revive. I stayed. My Cosme disappeared and I stayed, like an amputated octopus tentacle, which stays alive even after it's cut off, and roams around looking for food. When it finds some, it takes the food and makes the gesture of bringing it to its mouth, as if it were still connected to the body. I learned that in the documentary on marine life I watched with Renatinho.

Even now I'm living out the grief of the octopus, or in fact the grief of a piece of the octopus, a ridiculous piece, because octopus tentacles regenerate, just like a lizard's tail. (pp. 93-94)

***

The murder weapon disappeared. The killer fled. May the worms that tenderly lick your bones never give you rest, Adriano of surname unknown, great-grandson of all the stenches and great-grandfather of the everlasting effluents. Pustule of smallpox on the face of the Aztec emperor! May souls exist and may yours drink only sour milk, devil of the world, candidiasis of the world! Killer! Imagine God's tiredness on the eighth day, right after inventing this race of seed spillers, this race of conquistadors and record breakers, of Himalayan mountaineers, men and women who build the biggest houses of cards, pull trucks with their ears, construct the tallest buildings and start the biggest snowball fights in history and then they die. Then they die, the morons! And they spent their whole lives stuck in traffic, complaining of sleepiness and hunger and of not being loved. Every now and then they have sex with a stranger they met on the bus and sleep snuggled together at the motel, because they're always so sleepy. And they wake up thinking that all life's exclamations are fizzing in their blood, and it's time to photocopy their flesh onto other flesh. The son is born and the father runs off and the mother says this one will be called Adriano, when he could just as well be called José, Luis das Côrtes or Maria Odete. It's the perpetration of the species, the hairy species of those who know they're going to die, but study to finally get that mediocre job at the courthouse and their crooked teeth fixed and their own home and an ungrateful kid and then they die, the morons! The kids will be born with crooked teeth too, the morons. May your soul turn gray and snuff out the sun * and may the sun snuff out the living for the last time, and torture them too, including me, who can't stand myself, dead pig burning in my guts! Heard of Boskop Man? He was a relative of ours who lived around ten thousand years ago in Africa. He was more intelligent than us, his brain was bigger, his teeth were smaller. Boskop Man was the man of the future. We killed Boskop Man. Homo sapiens killed Boskop Man. Ten thousand years ago, we killed the man of the future. Because? Because we did! May the planet be left to other races, other races require no solace. We're exhausted. Only a tired species invents the armored car, telemarketing and nose jobs. And it's too late to die gracefully. May the king vulture assume the throne of the president of this republic and take us all to the grave. The congressmen and their brothers-in-law and the lawyers and the doctors and the police and the thieves. And the miracle workers of Cinelândia and of the temples. And the writers who insist on writing books for adults who shit themselves over having their income tax audited. And those who are tax-exempt. And the chocoholics. And the cinephiles. And all the great composers of great music and the inventors of the airplane. And those who don't sully their hands with money. And the old women who look like wax figures. And the skinny girls who drink coffee with sweetener. And the dead slaves, what would they say if they knew today's diets condemn the sugar they grew? And the museum workers, who insist on remembering. And the secondhand-store owners, and the secondhand-store customers. And everyone who looks back fondly. And everyone who thinks it matters. And the gravediggers. Our destiny is to be geology and there's nobody left in the world who knows what geology is. Adriano, this is the last revelation before oblivion. There's my neighbor listening to the same Nelson Cavaquinho record: "The sun ... shall shine once again. The light ... shall reach our hearts ..." It's beautiful. * (pp. 111-112)

***

Where love begins no one remembers. The triggers of hate are all easy: the moment she says you're a piece of shit, the stone that strikes the kosher restaurant, the bomb in the house of an aunt in Rafah, the day after the day you weren't invited. One day Camilo asked if he liked condensed-milk biscuits and the boy laughed. He laughed for twenty seconds and said yes, then laughed for another thirty. Laughed at him. Pointed at his face. Why? What are you laughing at? And he laughed more. That's when the hate could have started, but it didn't. It could have started when the kid yelled that he wasn't his father because he wasn't allowed to go outside at eight o'clock at night. But it didn't start.

And that's how Camilo knows he loves his son.

Hate never starts when it might. (pp. 146-47)

[wlwloverwrites]

Ok for lover hours how about Maria Hill and like how she would be during like morning sleepy sex bc that’s been ON MY MIIIND

a/n: ohhhhh myyyy goddddd, i love you for sending maria! thank you :))

Warnings: morning sex, oral sex, smut (18+)

Word count: 526

Main Masterlist 

Lover Hours Masterlist

Heat rises to your cheek when flashes of your latest dream pop into your head. Images of the woman sleeping besides you throwing her head back and moaning your name. You’re wet between your thighs and feel the strong urge to wake your girlfriend to heal your ache.

“Baby,” you call softly. Your body was facing hers so it was easy for your fingers to push her bedroom mane out of the way. Moving your body so your legs are tangled together and breasts are pushed together.

“Honey.” you call again, this time the woman that’s now beneath you stirs. Her eyes are still shut when she brings her hands to your waist, fingers slipping under the thin straps of your panties. Maria knows why you woke her, the same reason you like serving that fourth glass of wine.

A smile appears on the sleepy woman’s face when you start pressing small kiss on her neck, one that appears in a sleepy state. Her brain still deep asleep, yet her body was reacting to your touch.

Your nose brushes slowly over the purple bruises you left scattered on her breasts. A sense of pride blooms in your chest when you see your wife’s soft skin marked with your touch.

Kissing down Maria’s body under your head disappeared under the covers. Parting her thighs until you had the perfect view of her pussy and dark hickies you left on her inner thighs.

“Baby, wake up,” you whisper into her thigh. Smiling softly when Maria stirs in her sleep. Starting with soft kitten licks, controlling yourself from diving in and drowning yourself in her scent. Your wet tongue is what wakes the brunette. 

“Y/N?” Maria moans, lifting her head to see yours between her thighs.

“Morning baby,” is all you say before losing control and licking a long stripe up her pussy. Swirling your tongue around her clit caused Maria to squirm and roll her hips lazily against your face. Shaking your head to as a way to no cause her to moan. 

“Fuck.”

Your arms circle around her thighs and our hands hold them in place. Focusing your task on making Maria fall apart with your tongue. Doesn’t take much considering Maria was still sensitive from last night. Image of you and her flashed in her head. She remembers the way you moaned her name and begged for mercy. The taste of you lingered on her tongue and she was hungry for more. 

“Good girl, such a good girl.” Maria moans, her fingers find themselves gripping the sheet beside her as she bucks her hips against your face. A small blush reaches her face when the wet sounds of your mouth and her pussy fill the room.

“I’m coming.”

Your tongue doesn’t stop when Maria falls apart on your tongue. Strong thighs with tighten around your head, if she wanted she could make you pass out with just her thighs.

Maria falls limp as the tingle set in all over her body. You let out a giggle when Maria twitches when you press a gentle kiss on her clit.

“Good Mornin’ baby.”

“Oh good morning indeed.”

[mthofferings2018]

XtaticPearl

See XtaticPearl’s existing works here.

Preferred contact methods: Email - mitra.writer@gmail.com Tumblr - xtaticpearlsblog

Preferred organizations:

Anything from the list of approved organizations

Will create works that contain:

Friends to lovers, slow build, AUs, team building, team as family, friendship, hurt/comfort, character focused, canon divergence, fluff, angst with happy ending

Will not create works that contain:

Explicit sex, noncon, explicit physical or emotional abuse, infidelity, major character death, character bashing

-- Fic or other writing --

Auction ID: 281

Will create works for the following relationships:

1. Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - MCU, Avengers Assemble, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Marvel Adventures 2. Tony Stark & Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers & Thor & Clint Barton & Bruce Banner gen - Avengers Assemble, MCU, Earth's Mightiest Heroes 3. James 'Rhodey' Rhodes & Tony Stark - MCU 4. James 'Rhodey' Rhodes/Sam Wilson - MCU 5. Sharon Carter & Maria Hill & Natasha Romanoff - MCU 6. Natasha Romanoff/Sharon Carter - MCU 7. Peter Parker & Ned Leeds & Michelle Jones - MCU 8. Nick Fury & Natasha Romanoff - MCU 9. Shuri & T'Challa & Nakia & Okoye - MCU 10. GOTG team - MCU

Work Description:

I'm willing to write a 5k fic for the basic bid. If the final bid amount is over $50 the length can be extended to 15k. Ideal time to expect the fic would be by the first week of March. In case of any questions, clarification, or discussion please contact me either by mail or through Tumblr message.

Ratings: G, Teen, Mature

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

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[womenofmcu]

Cobie Smulders as Maria Hill Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[charturnus]

The sweetest submission

Ship: Maria Hill x Female Reader

a/n: I’ve been obsessed with Cobie Smulders and Maria Hill for the whole week, so I couldn’t stop myself. This was supposed to only be 1k lmfao but things got out of hand. If you liked it, let me know! Come talk to me, I don’t bite (mostly). <3

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI; daddy kink; legal age gap; college-aged R & milf Maria; strap-ons (the high-tech kind); deepthroating; blowjobs; vaginal fingering; cum filled strap

Word count: 4k 

Summary: The Avengers are great at many things, following orders isn’t one of those things. Maria is sick and tired of nobody listening to her, luckily, her girl knows exactly how to obey.

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

‘’Next time, you’d do well to remember who’s boss.’’ 

Just as I reach the end of the long hallway where Maria’s office is located, her voice rings out throughout the space and Steve and Tony emerge from the open door with grim expressions. 

‘’What’s wrong with you two?’’ I inquire, taking in Steve’s clear embarrassment and Tony’s annoyance. Steve merely shakes his head, his cheeks slightly red. 

‘’The boys thought it was funny to disobey my orders.’’ Maria  says, her voice trailing out from the open door. I move closer, so that both her and the two men are in my line of sight. ‘’They just needed a little correction to put them back in their place.’’

Tony pulls a sour face, turning to me with exasperation. ‘’You know, I suddenly feel quite sorry for you, kid. I don’t know why you willingly put up with that one.’’ He jerks his thumb behind him, towards the open door. 

‘’She actually obeys me, Stark. And she knows that good girls get rewards.’’ 

Tony gags audibly, and Steve looks absolutely mortified. ‘’That’s it, I’ve heard enough for today.’’ He says, holding his hands up at chest level, as if admitting his defeat. 

Poor Steve has had the hardest time of anyone at the compound to accept Maria’s forwardness in sharing our dynamic with the group. Everybody knows that I’m hers, and they’re all careful to not upset me, lest they face her wrath. Most of them are quite good at it, having the good decency to pretend to not notice that I’m cockwarming Maria when she has me sit on her lap throughout a whole meeting. 

Whilst the likes of Carol, Natasha and even Tony, keep their features composed whenever Maria decides to have a little fun around them. Steve appears prone to dropping whatever he’s holding, and scurrying off like a frightened alley cat. 

This is precisely what he chooses to do now, hurrying around the corner towards the lift. Tony merely rolls his eyes and sets off after him at an easy pace, peering over his shoulder to shout at Maria. ‘’Don’t go too hard on the kid, Hill. She’s not your stress ball.’’

Maria scowls at this, but I can’t help but chuckle softly as I close the office door behind me. ‘’Ignore him.’’ I tell her. ‘’He doesn’t understand.’’ She humms in assent, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘’For someone as clever as him you’d think he’d understand how to follow a simple command.’’

‘’Rough day?’’

‘’To say the least. I have over 7 trillion nerves, and yet somehow those two have managed to get on every single one of them.’’ She kicks her chair away from the desk, spinning to the side, and I move forward to embrace her, standing between her open legs. 

Her hair is loose today, and I lace my fingers through it as I lean down to give her a gentle kiss. She tastes of apple cider and I drink her in, relishing the softness of her lips, the feel of her tongue against mine. When we part, I’m glad to see a slight smile on her lips, though her eyes are still tired. 

‘’Daddy’s had a very hard day, honey.’’ She murmurs against my lips. 

Desire tugs suddenly at my lower stomach, my body already knowing what’s to come. At first, I thought she might have called me to her office, so we could grab a bite to eat together. I was sorely mistaken. This has happened countless times before, how could it not, what with the stress of Maria running the compound. She manages it well most days, but there are times when even she needs to blow off some steam. 

Before she gets a chance to ask, I lower myself carefully down onto my knees, settling in between her spread thighs. She’s wearing her uniform, with her gun strapped to her right thigh, and she’s an absolute sight to behold. I look up at her through my lashes, trying my hardest to give her those pretty ‘’use me’’ eyes that she loves so much. It seems to work because she groans low in her throat and grabs hold of a fistful of my hair. 

‘’God, you know exactly what I need, don’t you, pretty girl? Obeying before I even tell you what to do.’’ Her free hand finds its way to my mouth, and she holds up three fingers for me, which I take into my mouth without preamble.

‘’This is why I love you so much, baby. You always listen to Daddy and you give me exactly what I ask for. Those guys out there might be Avengers and SHIELD agents, but when it comes to knowing who’s boss, you could teach them all a lesson.’’

I glow under her praise, appreciatively suckling on her fingers, staring up at her with big eyes, fluttering my lashes in the way she likes. Truth be told, I do just about everything in my life the way Maria likes it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I spend my days making our meals, packing her lunch with handwritten notes every day, I do our laundry and keep our rooms tidy. Most importantly, I offer her some welcome relief from the stress of her work-life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

In return for it all, I get her all to myself. I am hers, but she is also mine. She loves me deeply and is fiercely protective of me. I get to live at the Avengers compound, despite hardly even knowing how to shoot a gun. She takes me to every fancy dinner and gala she’s invited to, clothing me in stunning dresses that she rips to shreds the second she gets me into bed. 

Most importantly, I get Maria. Not agent Hill, not director Hill, just Maria. I get toothpaste kisses in the early morning, playing video games in bed, oversized shirts with no pants and gentle murmurs of I love you, every day of my life. 

Maria pulls her fingers out of my mouth, and I have to bite back a whine of disappointment. The feeling quickly fades however, when she tips my chin up to look at her, her fingers wet with my saliva. ‘’Are you going to be a good girl and let daddy have her way with you?’’

I nod excitedly, my overeager hands scrabbling at her belt buckle, eager to get her out of her trousers. My mouth waters at the thought of her thighs framing my face as I suckle obediently on her clit. 

‘’Ah, ah, ah.’’ Maria chides. ‘’That will come later, I have something special for you today.’’ 

Her fingers deftly undo her zip, reaching in to pull out a surprisingly short but girthy strap. I don’t recall ever having seen this one before, and I’m confused as to why Maria hasn’t consulted me on buying it. Usually she always allows me to help her pick, reasoning that since I’ll be the one taking it, I should have some say in what it looks like. 

‘’Do you like my new cock, honey?’’ She asks, her voice sweet as honey. ‘’I had Stark make this especially for us. Turns out he can be useful when he wants to.’’ My ears perk up at this. If Tony had a hand in developing this, it won’t be just an ordinary toy. 

‘’What can it do?’’

Maria grins. ‘’Clever girl. This one is very special.’’ She takes my hand in her own and places it over the silicone. ‘’It’s attached to me, one piece inside, the other suctioned over my clit. I won’t claim to know exactly how it works, but there are sensors in every inch of this thing. When it’s touched, the bits connected to me will active.’’

My mouth has fallen open slightly as I take this in. I consider the unassuming strap, taking in the feel of the silicone against my hand. ‘’Have you tested it yet?’’

‘’Just enough to know that it works.’’ 

That’s more than enough for me. I shift, propping up one foot, so I can stand. I mean to take a seat in Maria’s lap, assuming she wants to fuck me with it, but she places a firm hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down to my knees. 

‘’Nuh-uh, honey. I want you on your knees for this.’’ I allow myself to be guided back to my knees and watch as Maria shifts closer to me, one hand on her cock, the other holding back my hair. Given the choice, I would much rather eat her out. There’s just something about her taste in my mouth and the unabashedly loud moans she lets out when I suck her clit, that drives me absolutely mad for her. 

She only ever makes me suck her off when she’s had a particularly trying day, when she needs to feel in control. It’s not so bad though, she’s gentle with me, and I’d do anything to make her happy, so I don’t complain. 

So, when she implores me to ‘’open wide.’’ I do so without hesitation. I expect her to slide the strap into my mouth, but instead she maintains a hard grip on my jaw as I open my mouth for her. Maria leans forward, almost as though she's going to kiss me, and spits in my mouth. Before I have time to swallow it, she pushes my head down to her cock, and I know what she wants from me. 

"Be careful." She murmurs, carefully gathering up my hair to keep it away from my face. "Keep your teeth out the way, baby." 

With my mouth full of cock, I can't reply, but her statement does worry me somewhat. I wouldn't say I'm particularly good at this. Usually I make an effort to look as pretty as possible and to put on a show, I'm less concerned with it feeling good. 

I make good use of the extra saliva in my mouth, making sure to get it as wet as possible. Above me, Maria leans back, spreading her legs a little further. 

Carefully I take it a little deeper into my mouth, opening wide, keeping my teeth well out of the way. This proves a little difficult, so I decide to change tactics. I take her cock out of my mouth, instead placing open-mouthed kisses along the length of it. Using my hand, aided by the slickness of my saliva, to stroke her wherever my mouth is not. 

I am rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as Maria lifts her hips up. I raise my eyes and try to suppress a smile as I continue to work on her. She's so gorgeous when she's like this, with her hair loose, a flush evident on her high cheekbones and her eyes shut tight.  

Once I've worked her up for a while, I attempt to take her into my mouth once more, this time with more success. I keep a fist at the base of her cock and take the rest of the length into my mouth. Maria groans loudly as I bob my head up and down, applying my tongue as I would if it were her clit in my mouth. 

"God. Fuck." She manages to stutter out, her breath quivering when she inhales. Her hands are tight in my hair, gripping hard and pushing down with remarkable strength. I know she's not one to force me to do anything I don't want, and I can't claim to be a fan of this kind of act. But I know this is a subconscious reaction of her body trying to chase the pleasure, and who am I to deny her? 

I remove my fist from the base of her cock, and when I raise my head, the toy almost slips out of my mouth entirely, I make sure to take a deep breath. When I let the cock back into my mouth, I don't stop Maria as she pushes me down, her hips snapping up sharply. The sound of me gagging takes her by surprise, alarmed, she tries to pull out, concerned that she might have hurt me. 

I search for her eyes, trying to look as reassuring as one can with tears in their eyes. As she pulls back, I dip my head, taking more of the length, trying to show her I'm alright. Really, I'm just thankful for the limited size of this toy. Any longer and I truly wouldn't have been able to take it at all. When Maria realizes that I'm not in pain, she moans low and deep in her throat. "You're such a good fucking girl, aren't you? You were made to take my cock, baby."

She shifts to the edge of the chair, to give herself more leverage, and begins to thrust shallowly into my throat. It burns slightly, and I gag a few times every minute. Saliva drips down my chin and onto my chest, tears trickling down my cheeks, the sounds coming from me are obscene, but I do not care in the slightest. Not when Maria is above me, moaning desperately, her fingers clawing at my hair, groaning out praise, telling me how good my throat feels, how she's going to fill me up with her cum. 

Maria appears on the verge of falling apart, gasping loudly, her thrusts getting sloppier by the second, when all three of her computer screens light up, a harsh calling sound echoing through the room. 

‘’Damnit.’’ Maria says through gritted teeth, as she gingerly pulls the cock from my mouth. Looking over at the screens, she reads the name of the caller and curses again. Leaning down, she takes my face in both of her hands, her thumbs swiping at the tears on my cheeks. ‘’Are you okay honey?’’ I nod my head, gratefully taking in several lungfuls of air and wiping my chin with the back of my hand. 

‘’Get up on my lap, baby. You did so good, I promise this won’t take long.’’ 

When I’m secure in Maria’s lap, straddling her thighs, my head resting in the crook of her neck, she answers the call. 

‘’Goddamnit, Danvers.’’

‘’Let’s keep it professional now, Agent Hill.’’ I can hear the amusement in her voice, and usually I enjoy the easy way Carol handles our relationship. But right now I want her to vanish from the planet for a few hours, at least until Maria is done fucking me stupid. 

I tune out their conversation and focus myself firmly in the present. I nuzzle my nose into Maria’s neck, inhaling her scent, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine. Her hands rest on my thighs, hidden underneath my dress, stroking me gently. For the first time, I become aware of the pressing wetness between my thighs. With my legs spread like this, and in the absence of any underwear, the ache is all too present. 

When Maria settles her hands on the supple flesh of my ass and squeezes hard, I can’t help myself, and I whine softly, my hips rutting against the open air between us. She shushes me gently, pressing a kiss to the side of my cheek, and settles the palm of her hand against my aching clit. She’s busy talking to Carol, but I don’t need her to tell me what this means. She’s saying go ahead, entertain yourself.

Gratefully, eagerly, I grind my wet cunt against the fleshy part of Maria’s palm. I am almost light-headed with relief, and Maria’s sharp intake of breath when she feels my copious wetness covering her hand, almost goes unnoticed. I hold on to her tightly, moaning under my breath, loudly enough for her to hear, but not loud enough for Carol to notice. 

I glide my tongue over the exposed part of Maria’s neck, suckling lightly. I want to lean back fully, take in her face, stare at her like the piece of art she is. I want to watch her as I ride her cock, and bask in the joy of being all hers. I know not to be too greedy though, and I attempt to pace myself, rocking backwards and forwards at a steady pace. It’s just enough to take the edge off, but not quite enough to send me into an orgasm that I don’t have permission for. 

As I rut against Maria’s hand, her cock brushes against my thigh and I wonder if she can feel that too, but if she can, her face doesn’t betray anything. I don’t falter in my rhythm as I cup my hand under my mouth to spit in it, and quickly reach down to take hold of the cock. That gets her attention. She stiffens, and she stumbles over her words, but manages to recover quickly. I stroke her lazily, keeping the rhythm steady with the one my own hips have taken up. After a few minutes of this treatment, Maria is trembling, her cheeks considerably redder than before. 

When the time comes for Carol to call out a smug goodbye, to Maria, and to me, she looks as though she’s about to combust. She hammers the fingers of her free hand on the touchpad, shutting off the video call, and all the screens in their entirety. 

Her hand flies up to my face, cupping my cheek and pulling me into a desperate, heated kiss. She presses hard against my core with the palm of her hand, and slips two fingers inside me. She crooks her fingers on every thrust, making me whimper into her sweet smelling hair. I don’t let up on my grip on her cock, trying to sync my movements with hers, and soon the both of us are breathing hard. 

Maria is gasping harshly, her hips raising up, trying to thrust harder into my hand. I lean back to look at her. She’s flushed all over, her eyes glittering with desire. Her lips are red from our rough kisses and wet with my saliva. She looks like a painting. I want to capture this moment and hide it away, remember it for the rest of my days. 

She is breathtaking, the curve of her neck, her firm muscles underneath the soft fabric of her uniform. She smells like her flowery perfume, but her hair smells of her shampoo. Her hand is slick where it meets my core, and her skin pressed against mine feels like a little slice of Elysium. 

I claw at the front of her uniform, tugging at her zip, to expose the tops of her breasts, spilling over the top of her bra. She laughs when I lurch forward to attach my mouth to soft skin there. 

‘’You have a busy mouth today.’’ Her voice sounds raspy, thick with need. Her fingers pull out of me and I whine through a mouthful of breast. ‘’Don’t worry, baby. Daddy will fill you up soon.’’ She pulls my head up sharply, threading her fingers through my hair and holding me tight. ‘’Open up.’’ Maria holds up her fingers, covered in my wetness, and I take them into my mouth without question. I moan, not at my own taste, but rather the feel of her fingers against my tongue. 

As I dutifully suckle on her fingers, Maria manoeuvres her cock between my thighs, sliding it through my copious wetness. She pulls open a desk drawer, the one where she keeps toys ready to go, and fishes out a small bottle of water-based lube. She squeezes a generous amount into her open palm and fists her cock, covering every inch of it in the slick substance. Once she’s done, she wipes the excess on my swollen cunt and rubs her cock over my engorged clit. 

I raise myself on my knees as Maria lines her cock up with my entrance. When I sink down onto it, there is hardly any resistance. We let out a synchronized moan and rest our foreheads together as we take in this new sensation. Soon, however, I have become impatient and begin to rock my hips. I grind myself against her for a while, before remembering the function of this new toy. 

So, I push myself up and let myself sink down again, the ridges of the cock rub deliciously against me as I push myself up and down, up and down. I raise myself high enough to barely keep the head inside, before dropping down all the way, the cock bottoming out deep inside me. Maria is breathing hard against my overheated skin, her hips trying to meet mine the best she can in this position. She’s swearing under her breath and gripping my hips so tightly that I’m sure there will be bruises there come morning. I try to keep a decent pace, but my knees are aching from straddling her for so long. I can tell from the pained expression on her face that she’s close, but that this is not quite enough to push her over the edge. 

‘’Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’’ She leans back in her chair, running her hands through her hair as I try my hardest to move as quickly as I can, up and down over her cock. It’s getting harder for me now, and after several minutes of this I have to take a break. 

Maria however, is near delirious with need at this point and groans in frustration when I have to stop. ‘’I’m sorry, baby.’’ She grunts, as she quite suddenly leans forward, lifting me up by my thighs and laying me down her desk, her cock still buried inside me. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ She says again, thrusting into me harshly. ‘’Ah- fuck. I just- I gotta-’’ She doesn’t finish whatever it was she was going to say. Focussing fully on our connected bodies. 

Her first thrusts are slow and experimental, but once she gets the hang of what feels good, she sets a punishing pace. She looks almost feral, her zip pulled down to expose the tops of her breasts and her necklace bouncing wildly against her chest. She’s moaning unabashedly, her full weight resting on top of me.

I know it won’t be long when her thrusts get harder by the second, I secure my legs tightly over her hips, holding her close against me. She feels so good inside me, the smooth head of the cock pressing firmly against my G-spot, making me writhe underneath her. I don’t try to stop the stream of high pitched moans leaving my mouth.

‘’God. Fuck.’’ She stutters out, her hips pounding into me. ‘’I’m going to fuck my cum into you, baby.’’ She growls into my ear. I can’t help myself, whining desperately in response, half delirious with pleasure. ‘’Fill me up, daddy. Pl- ease.’’

When she comes, her moans are louder than I’ve ever heard them. Her hips never cease their punishing pace, pushing into me so deeply that the hard metal of her zip presses painfully into my pubic bone. None of that matters though, not when her warm cum is spilling copiously inside me. I hold her tightly, one hand on her back, the other in her hair as she ruts against me, riding out her high. 

It takes several minutes for her to come back to herself and when she does, she gives me a sheepish, apologetic look. ‘’Are you okay, honey? I think I lost it there for a second.’’ 

I chuckle wearily, propping myself up with one elbow to look down as she pulls her cock out of me. Some of the cum leaks out, and the sight of this sends a shiver of desire through me, a harsh reminder of my lack of release. 

‘’I loved it.’’ I say truthfully. ‘’The feeling of you coming inside me-’’ I trail off, exhaling shakily. ‘’You did beautifully.’’ Maria assures me, leaning down to give me a long, languid kiss. I yelp when her hands snake around my thighs once more to lift me up, instinctively I wrap my thighs around her waist. 

‘’Let’s get to bed baby, you deserve a proper reward.’’

[sporadiceagleheart]

You won't have to cry no more but it's alright to cry because God's gonna wipe all of your tears away Jesus is there for us in our lives and I feel like I don't want to cry but after making this edit for Maite Y. Rodriguez and other Angels up in heaven I want to hold on to my tears God's gonna wipe all of my tears away I won't have to cry no more I don't want to cry no more I won't have to cry no more it's making me sad

Rest in heavenly peace to Maite Yuleana Rodriguez, Charlotte Helen “Char” Bacon, Kelly Ann Prosser, Lilly Garcia, Kaliyah King, Taliyah Frazier, Abigail Hernandez, Sara Fay Rivazfar, Isabella Sara “Bella” Tennant, Josephine Grace Gay, Uziyah Sergio Garcia, Tess Marie Mata, Alexandria "Lexi" Rubio, Annabell Guadalupe Rodriguez, Alithia Haven Ramirez, Rojelio Torres, Agnes “Agi” Barsi Lidle, Maria Agnes Virovacz Barsi, Jacklyn Jaylen “Jackie” Cazares, Makenna Lee “Kenna” Elrod Seiler, Judith Barsi, Rachel Joy Scott, Chelsea Lynne Diehl, Ava Jordan Wood, Olivia Pratt Korbel, Elizabeth Shelley, Sara Sharif, Charlotte Figi, Charlotte Louise Dunn, Alyssa Miriam Alhadeff, Ava Martin White, Saffie-Rose Brenda Roussos, Lily Peters, Hana St. Juliana, CeCe,Bella,Shan'Ann&Nico, Jersey Dianne Bridgeman, Aubreigh Wyatt, Adriana Dukic, Catherine Hubbard, Josephine Gay, Kali Cook, 4-Year-Old Catherine, Maranda Gail Mathis, Amerie Jo Garza, Eliahna Torres, Layla Salazar, Jayce Carmelo Luevanos, Jailah Nicole Silguero, Barna Barsi, Acacia Surridge-Hill, I made this sad moment edit to honor those names including Maite Rodriguez it broke my heart when I thought alot about it and I just made the edit it's something that will make you feel like crying it's gonna be alright if you cry God is always watching over you Jesus can help us sunday while I was at church I kept thinking about this one edit and I went to the bathroom and I said to myself that it was going to be alright that I will make that edit this is that edit right here right now rest in peace to those Angels who are resting in heaven now

[littlemissmarvelous]

Playing With Fire

Steve x reader (eventual)

Please do not steal my work thanks:)

She’s dangerous.

She’s insane.

She’s better off working alone.

She’s full of secrets.

Your reputation was something you never truly cared about. The strong and intense presence you gave off saved you a lot of trouble, and no one wanted to mess with you. Sure there has been those that have tried and they have the scars to prove it, your lethal smile always reminding them that they wouldn’t make the mistake again.

You weren’t initially a hero, yet you weren’t initially a villain either. It was a complicated story of your parents wanting a “special” child, throughly messing with your genetics while still in the womb. They were both scientists that just wanted to test the laws of nature, which resulted in you. The only calculation they didn’t plan was hour ability being fire, which on a dry august night resulted in their bodies being charred and your young 4 year old self remaining untouched. You had wandered off before any paramedics could reach there, your feet taking you to places unknown until a young man spotted you in your slightly singed pajamas and took you to a police station. To the world, you didn’t exist. Your blood didn’t register, and no one knew your face and you didn’t speak against it. They didn’t know what else to do with the silent girl who had no name, no family, no record but to drop you off at the local orphanage.

There you gained your name, and you grew along other children your age. You grew close to another girl named Mia, and you both stayed in the system into your teens until one fateful day. You and Mia had gone to see a movie on a Friday night, and she had to use the restroom. You had smiled and nodded while sitting in your seat. You weren’t prepared for what was to come, what you were about to encounter. She had been taking a while too long and the movie had already started, your texts unanswered. Worried, you walked out to find her, but she wasn’t in the restroom . Wandering, you found yourself outside and attracted to the sounds of a muffled struggle. You quickly ran over to the noise only to find Mia With her clothes ripped apart, a gun to her head, and 4 men surrounding her. You opened your mouth to yell for them to stop when the gunshot rang out, and your dear friend dropped to the floor. A scream was let out instead. All four saw you and panicked, quickly running with Mia’s velvet red purse in their hand. You quickly dialed 911, and held the corpse of the only friend you ever had, her eyes blank and lifeless. Two things you know you would never get out of your head: the sight of your dead friend with a bullet in her head, and the faces of those four men.

Once the police and paramedics gathered her body and took your statement, you set off for home. No one questioned the blood on your clothing, but maybe that was because the scary expression that you wore on your face. Once in your room you let out another scream and began seething. You mindlessly grabbed at the picture and knowing your future, you packed a duffel bags with whatever could fit and vanished into the night.

It started with one.

Then two.

Then three.

Then the fourth came along and as the flames licked across the surface of the car where you had doused it with gasoline. His screams were almost nonexistent and drowned compared to the fire blazing around him. This time you watched for longer, because it was the last one. Though once you got back to your motel room, you knew this wasn’t the last time. You would continue your work for as long as you could, for Mia.

Nick Fury and Maria Hill found you 4 years later in front of your latest find that was currently inside his ablaze condo. Sensing their presence, you sniffed the air and sighed. “Ah, how I love the smell of gasoline.”

“An interesting fact considering your love of fire.” Maria Hill says as she smirks.

You frown and turn to face them. “Who are you?”

“I’m Nick Fury, and this is Maria Hill. Both agents of Shield. The real question is who are you?”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure you’d know that since you’re here.”

“Actually,” Nick replies, “we have no idea who you really are. Just that you like setting men ablaze.”

“Every single man I sentence is either a rapist, abuser, or sex offender. I’m doing to evil for the sake of the good.” You argue.

“It’s murder.” Maria states with a smirk still on her face.

You shrug. “Eh, justified. I’d say it’s an execution. More fitting.”

“So who are you?”

“If I tell you are you going to turn me in?”

Fury shakes his head. “No in fact I’d want you to come join me so you can do your work on a more...legal standpoint.”

You hum in thought before nodding. “My name is y/n. That’s all I have ever known.”

“Well y/n,” Maria says, “welcome to shield.”

————-

Three years later you sit in your training room, a cell really, sitting cross legged with a delicate yes strong collar around your neck. Your eyes closed as you took deep breaths in and out to keep balance within yourself.

Your meditation was soon interrupted by three short knocks to your door before two familiar faces entered. An eyebrow shot up in question at them, they usually didn’t pay many visits.

“We have a mission for you. If you’re ready.” Maria says with a smirk.

“Can we count on you?” Fury asks

A grin grows on your face as you reply, “where’s the fight?”

[gothamsglam]

@creatorsofcolornet event 9: secret santa

↳ Maria Hill as a gift for char @rachelschu <3

[kxowledge]

Could you recommend some books to read for summer? ⛱🌊🌞

Summer for me is long-reads on the beach, books in Spanish, gothic horror and engrossing mysteries… so that’s what you’ll find on this list. Marked with an asterisk is books on my own reading list for the summer.

Long-reads that would best accompany the sun-filled hours of the afternoon

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Don Quixote*

Herodotus, The Histories*

Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth

Manuel Rivas, Books Burn Badly

Homer, Odyssey (tr. Emily Wilson)

Shorter fiction books that remind me of summer because of the setting or some other reason

Donia Bijan, The Last Days of Café Leila*

Cesare Pavese, Dialogue with Leucò

Ian McEwan, Atonement

Alessandro Baricco, Ocean Sea

Elizabeth von Arnim, The Solitary Summer*

Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, The Leopard

Virginia Woolf, The Waves*

Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

Claire Fuller, Bitter Orange

Southern Gothic & Gothic Horror & whatever Latin American writers had going on

William Faulkner, Sanctuary*

Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves*

Scott Hawkins, The Library at Mount Char*

Mariana Enriquez, Things We Lost in the Fire

Jorge Luis Borges, Ficciones*

Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic

Engrossing mysteries

Flilian Flynn, Sharp Objects

Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

Tana French, Broken Harbor

+ (bonus) Poetry

Louise Gluck, A Village Life

Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness

Mary Oliver, Dream Work

Ada Limon, Bright Dead Things

Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus