#he tried to relate to Tony with the ���between us men’ thing

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #62

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story: Chapter 7

Warnings: None, I think... (slight coercion?? maybe??)

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.1k

“My name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. a secret division of the U.S. government. And around this time last year, someone hacked our system. The only person with the capability to do that is Mr. Stark here. There were a few search queries we were able to recover. They were all related to superhuman abilities that can heal or transfer physical harm. Around then, the ‘X-Men' vigilante team started slowing down, switching out their strongest members with a noticeable lack of two of their constants, Cyclops and Lifemender.” Director Fury remained still, arms crossed.

Crap. He knows everything, down to the name I was given, “I-I’m sorry, I don't believe I follow.”

“You are Lifemender, Mx.-”

“Kyrie. Call me Kyrie. Just, please, stop butchering my last name.”

“My apologies, Mx. Kyrie.” His voice rang with sarcasm, intentional or not. He walked about a third of the distance between where he stood initially and where I stood while extending his arm gesturing to me, “We at S.H.I.E.L.D. need your, unique abilities. We recently found an operative who has been missing for quite some time. We recovered him about a month ago, but he’s still unconscious. That is where you come to play.” 

“Let me guess, you want me to what- make him conscious?”

“Basically.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t a request.”

“No. As in I physically cannot bring him back into consciousness. I can heal physical injuries and illnesses, but what you’re asking of me isn’t something my powers can do.”

“Well, if that’s all you came to ask- leave.” Tony piped up, moving from behind his desk to his mini bar, drink in hand.

“Unfortunately, due to your past helping a vigilante organization I’m afraid it’s between this and prison.” Tony choked on his drink, “You don’t need to wake up the agent. All you have to do is one- sign an NDA and two- show up and do what you can. If things don’t work out the way the science geeks want I won’t hold you accountable but your participation is required.”

“Okay.” I breathed heavily, fidgeting with my hands, “If this doesn't work none of the fire will be blown back my way?”

“Everyone involved has already signed an NDA regarding what happens while on site. I know what happened in Milan, if someone has loose lips they will be taken care of. You will be as safe as I can promise.” I was trembling, on one hand, this could lead to another purge of mutants, I could be tested on again, or maybe I could just go to prison, “I know damn well your shoes are not that interesting.”

“The last time I was involved with the U.S. Government I was tested on and treated with less dignity than a sewer rat. How am I supposed to know that it won’t happen again? That all of this isn’t just an elaborate path to resume your testing?”

“I’m sorry, testing-” Tony tried to speak.

“Trask, his associates, and all personnel who supported Trask’s actions have been terminated and replaced.”

I couldn't help but chuckle, he must be used to having the information that when there’s a gap he doesn’t even know to fill, “I’m aware. Are you aware that I’m twenty-six?”

Silence filled the room, I couldn’t tell if the director was trying to piece together this puzzle or do the mental math.

“Can someone explain what is happening?” Tony spoke, finally getting a full sentence, “Trask was a businessman in the late sixties-early seventies before he was found selling national secrets to foreign offices. What does he have to do with- well, whatever this is?”

Fury and I both shifted to face Tony, “Mr. Stark, that is the public reason for his removal and imprisonment. Not to say they were false accusations, but he was far more involved with the Government than most know. Bolivar Trask was conducting highly-illegal experiments for the U.S., of which all subjects were of the genetic group known as ‘mutants’. He was ousted after a mutant saved the president’s life.”

“Okay, but then Kyrie was born a decade and a half after Trask got-“

“I understand that. But if it wasn’t Trask then who”

“Does it matter now?”

“It does, but not as much as getting you to the triskelion.”

“Then let’s go.”

After spending the rest of the day packing, then on a five-hour flight, topped with a thirty-minute drive, I stood in front of a behemoth of a building. Three concrete columns, joined together by a central cylinder in what must look like a radiation symbol from above.

The three of us, and the redoubtable presence of the two men’s security teams. As we crossed the bridge over the river leading into the facility the Director spoke, “This is the triskelion. You’ll be working in one of the secure underground levels. If that's alright?”

“I’ll be fine, I think. Probably…”

Tony practically huffed behind me, followed by a noticeable uptick in his pace to walk in front of the director and me, “Well then, if you’re fine with it, I’d like to hurry this along. I will need my secretary for a fair bit of work.”

“Calm your shit, Stark. My business with Mx. Eirsson.”

 “Then let’s get this over with.” I walked past Tony and towards the lobby.

From even a few yards off I could see the inside of the building, the first visible story was somewhere between millennial gray and beige, but as soon as the front doors I saw the second story was painted black with natural wood accents- the opposite wall an off-white painted brick- sleek and withdrawn.

After all my ogling Tony nudged me with his shoe to let me know I was falling behind. I followed him and the director towards an elevator that, apparently, had a keycard reader. The heavy metal doors opened with pristine smoothness Tony and the director stepped in after a moment I stepped into the elevator with them, two MIB-looking men stepping in with us, and watched the director as he pressed the button labeled B3.

The descent was silk-smooth, the stop slight and subtle before the doors opened into a sterile, metal corridor. Director Fury walked through the twists and turns of the passage with efficiency- I struggled to keep up with him, almost hitting a few corners along the way- before he opened a door and motioned for me.

I walked through the doorframe into a flat, white room. There was a medical bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by hospital machines, occupied by an almost-too-tall blonde man I recognized from Logan's lectures.

"Director?"

"Yes? Is there a problem?"

I turned to face him, "You never said my 'patient' was Steve Rogers, Captain Rogers, Captain America..."

[violettavonviolet]

Ironstrange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange fic recs

Hey guys, I have another fic rec list; the word count goes up as you scroll down, all fics are finished and amazing! Be aware of the warnings that are tagged, and show the others some love!

if you have any other ships you'd like a rec list for sent me a message/ask!

Cockthistle Thundercunt

TenSpencerRiedPlease

Summary:

Christine gives him a once over and smiles a little, “you really don’t believe in the soul mate thing? Come on, I’m sure you have a phrase. Test it on him,” she says, nodding at a tall, attractive Asian guy headed their way. Tony sighs and decides to humor her because it never works- she’s not the first to test his theory. 

“Cockthistle thundercunt,” he says as soon as the poor bastard he’s testing this on gets close enough to hear. Imagine his intense surprise when he gets an offended noise of frustration.

“You made me walk around with cockthistle thundercunt on my body my whole life- you have no idea how embarrassing that is!” he snaps.

Crack 2k

 I Tried to Be Chill (but you're so hot I melted)

dls

Summary:

"I just...haven't considered I'd be open to something like that, you know? But Stephen changed my mind."

"As long as you're happy, Tony, I'm happy."

Or: 5 Times Tony Stark's Friends Thought He was Dating Stephen Strange and the 1 Time They Realized He was Dating the Sorcerer Supreme.

Super sweet 3k

Tony Stark's secret husband

cutebutpsyco

Summary:

It’s not like they wanted to keep the secret because they didn’t. They never spoke about going public with their wedding, and nobody but for tabloids ever asked either Stark or Stephen about their romantic lives so, again, Tony wouldn’t blame either himself or Stephen for keeping it between the two of them.

3k secret relationships

 Invictus

Wix

Summary:

After the fight in Siberia, Tony opens his eyes and starts down a new path with new friends and family alike, even with the shadow of a particular ex-Avenger hovering over him.

Pretty bashy for cap. America

7k

Sense of Being

Breyito

Summary:

Relics are not something out of the ordinary in the lives of sorcerers. Sentient relics are more unique. A relic that can express thoughts and emotions as the Cloak does? Almost unprecedented. There is not much written about the Cloak of Levitation; which doesn't make easier for people to understand them. The concept of an object not being a possession, but somewhat their own person is difficult to grasp for many; respect it, even more so.

The fact that Tony Stark, a man who hates everything related to the Mystic Arts didn't even blink when introduced to the Cloak is not something Stephen had the chance to think about when they met; but it certainly makes him curious now, after things are back to normal.

The contradictions that are part of the Golden Avenger make him even more interesting than he already is; more tempting than he should be. Stephen and the Cloak start spending more time in the Compound, in Tony’s sanctuary, his workshop, and with his creations. The two men start opening up to each other and what was only attraction quickly transforms into something deeper.

No one saw the implications of what letting Dum-E and the Cloak bond would mean.

(Also, Stephen panics. But only minimally.)

8k pretty funny

Embers

surveycorpsjean

Summary:

They’re horribly different in all the best ways.

8k

Living in the Shadows of Denial

orphan_account

Summary:

From this prompt I found on Tumblr:

Soulmates can share abilities. So, like, if your soulmate is a good cook, you can use their talents when you need to make a really tasty dish. It usually only occurs once you know who the soulmate is.

However, I want there to be an Avenger AU where Strange is hit and unresponsive and Tony is pissed and uses magic (from Strange) to wreak havoc on their foe- like raining fire type chaos. When the smoke clears, everyone is looking at Tony and he has an 'oh sh*t' moment as he realizes that he was a soulmate and his soulmate is one Stephen Strange.

9k super sweet soul mates

the seduction of a gentleman - a tale of obliviousness and blue balls

graveltotempo

Summary:

Tony has been the most eligible bachelor omega of America for years now:

getting into Stephen Strange's pants should not be very hard for him.

What Tony did not expect, however, was that Doctor and Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Vincent Strange is... a gentleman.

oh boy.

9k explicit a/b/o

Tony and the Neurosurgeon

ArcticVulpix

Summary:

JARVIS would only accept the best for sir. So a doctor who can keep up with Tony's banter and with a high enough intelligence to understand him was pretty high up on the list.

10 k

i babysat god and he stabbed me with a fork

surveycorpsjean

Summary:

If these two idiots don’t sort out their shit real soon, Loki is going to stab everyone in this room and then himself.

11k humor

Stranger Danger

graveltotempo

Summary:

DUM-E has noticed that lately, DAD-E has been spending a lot of time with another man, and he really does not like the looks they share with each other.

The rest of the bot + humans + AI + synthezoid family does not seem to mind this stranger, but DUM-E does mind. He minds verymuch.

Thank god he is the oldest and the best equipped to deal with the danger (he truly is the BEST BOT). This STEV-E with a PH better watch out!

11k super funny

Of They and Them

surveycorpsjean

Summary:

When faced with the brink of death, Stephen is forced to pull one last spell out of his sleeve. It's deemed to fail anyways. Except it doesn't. 

A full fusion can only be done by the two most compatible souls in the universe. 

Well, aren't they lucky.

13k finished

the one where tony and stephen should really stop eye-fucking each other, hello, thanos is coming?!

graveltotempo

Summary:

The Universe is about to end. Thanos is the formidable foe Tony has been worrying about since the Battle of New York and he's finally coming. That's what Tony is worrying about.

Or should he be worrying about.

But then again who thought throwing him in space with his ex boyfriend was in any way a good idea?

34k iconic

Scars on Your Heart

SailorChibi

Summary:

Determined to stop Thanos by killing him before he collects all the Stones, Tony travels back in time and seeks out the one person who can help him: Dr. Stephen Strange. With less than a week to go before Thanos's ships crashland on Earth, Tony and Strange form an alliance - and, just maybe, start falling in love.

44k

Mystic

TenSpencerRiedPlease

Summary:

Soul mate's names appear on their mate's skin. But the names aren't just the ones on their birth certificate- soul marks detailed every name your soul mate would ever receive throughout their lifetime.

Tony’s soul mate is fucking stupid. This idiot used the name ‘Stephen Strange’ and ‘Dr. Strange’- both of which made sense- but then the final tattoo that liked to appear sometimes was fucking ‘Sorcerer Supreme’. He decided from the moment he saw that embarrassing name he was one hundred percent never, ever going to give two shits about his dumbass soul mate.

Stephen had rolled his eyes so hard when ‘Iron Man’ flitted across his arm for the first time. Well, the first time he could read it. But the other names were interesting too- namely Tony Stark.

53k soulmates

skate fast eat ass

orphan_account

Summary:

nattytaffy: I have good news and bad news

falconfratboy: What

nattytaffy: Good news- bucky and clint aren’t dead

falconfratboy: Bad news?

nattytaffy: They’re under custody at the police station for beating up a hotdog stand guy

falconfratboy: i’m so proud

or: the self indulgent high school au gc fic where all the kids are trying their best

(drawings, questions concerns suggestions etc at my instagram @cryptic_potato).

57k main pairing is steve/bucky, underage , also a series with more focus on them later

Citizen Erased

Imagined

Summary:

What do you do when no one in the world ever manages to remember you?

Anyone who sees Tony Stark promptly forgets he ever existed after mere seconds. When everyone he has ever cared about has lost their memories of him, he goes to Stephen Strange, possibly the only one who can help him lift the curse. But a terrifying danger is coming, and saving the world isn’t an easy job to do when no one can remember who you are.

178k

Spread your wings; guardians of infinity: second chance

Graveltotempo

In 2018, on Earth-199999, Thanos gathered all the Infinity Stones and snapped his fingers. Half of the Universe was promptly dusted, and a third was further killed as a direct consequence of the dusting. Weeks later, Thanos used the Infinity Stones once more and destroyed them - thus destroying the Universe itself.

Stephen Strange saw this, but there was no way to save them or the Universe, no time.

And then the Infinity Stones themselves gave him time. Gave him a second chance to save another Universe, their sister Earth: Earth-200207.

A quest that takes place across space and time, within souls and minds, with power and reality. A bet that could save trillions of people or could condemn them to a future worse than he one of Earth-199999. A game of chess against the butterfly effect, with one single starting player:

7 works 410 k finished

[izzysarchivedblogs]

He knew he couldn't blame Edith for the times she couldn't save him or Barney from their father, because she was as much a victim as well. Actually, he thinks that she had been more of one than he had been, given he knows, at least, that Harold had been like this wonder. Clint does think of reasons and whys she was married to him, why she was stuck with him, didn't anyone save her. Question if she had tried to get away, or get them away; but it didn't matter.

She and Harold had dead for three decades, so it wouldn't matter having the answers. It makes him think of when Tony came to him about his bio mom, wondering what he should do with the information. Clint should have said, than at the time, the diffrence between them.

TONY LIKES ANSWERS, LIKES KNOWING THINGS. Clint does not. He doesn't want answers, or to know this.

What good would it do him? It's all in the past, it's all dead and it's why he calls her Edith. Not mom, even if she had been mom. He doesn't know her, he won't ever have those answers, and she's been gone longer than he ever knew his mom.

❝ Yeah, we did. Y'know, Harold wasn't suppose to he'd sell what he hunted; but e'eryone liked 'im ⸻ ❞ So he got away with it, but Tony was right. Hunting trips were like mini vacations. They still had to be careful, but it was the reason any of them kept going on. ❝ Edith use to build us pillow forts, we'd have to clean it up which annoying. We'd sleep on the couch if we wanted, and one time she even let me camp outside and she joined me. Barney didn't want to. She and I both got sick, and she just laughed about it. ❞ Any kid would think that, but he knows why they had to put everything back exact. Last days of long hunting trips were cleaning days, all day until things were back in order.

❝ Barney tried to build a vertical pillow fort, took over the dining table. We broke a lamp when it toppled over. ❞ It was like being in a house with just three kids, which now that he's had some therapy and would keep having it. He does kind of think that Edith needed those days a lot, to be a kid with her kids.

❝ She's, uh, why I like cowboys I think. She use to tell stories about mysterious, dashing rogues that would come into town and sweep dames off their feet, deal with bandits and bad men with a quick draw of their pistol. Strong guys, heroic strangers, y'know. ❞ If Edith started it, than the books at St. Ignatius fostered that more along with history class.

Clint's kind of startling himself with how much of his mother he did have to say.

The grin on his expression only widens as he realizes he may have sucked Tony into the rabbit hole that was trashy television like Ancient Aliens. It's dangerous he knows, but his eyes fall on Tony's face fond as he tries to make sense. SHOULD HE TELL HIM THERE'S NO HOPE WITH THAT?

I hate this so much. ❝ You're cute when you're frustrated. ❞ THERE! That's why he was torturing him.

❝ Are you trying to make sense of conspirators, who when given any fact will tell you it's wrong? They will try to pick at anything that won't get them illegally in trouble, but on the internet forums, apparently one of the guys on shows doesn't believe Asgard is real, and that Thor is actually a lab grown bio-weapon used to alter the memories of people, so the government could get away with taxing people more. ❞

Clint manages to find the episode. The disclaimer at the front of the episode, tells you exactly what you needed to know. Given the number of alleged in the statement. Trying to save their asses from legal problems by alleging that Tony Stark's suit is actually unidentified proof of a secret race of ancient aliens that are NOT related to the Skrull.

❝ I watch this show when I wanna feel smart. ❞

Tony mentally jotted down chocolate with cherry gel inside and cherry sours. He'd get his assistant to get some to have them around. A little bit of happy nostalgia like the hotdogs in the mac and cheese.

Listening to Clint highlighted one of the differences they had in their childhood. From what Tony was gleaning from the conversation, Edith had loved her boys and had been trapped in the same cycle of abuse as her sons. Maria on the other hand had loved Howard. Howard doted on her, and even though Tony was sure he'd also cheated on her, he was equally sure that his mom didn't care. So maybe cheating wasn't the correct word. Maybe they'd just had an open relationship. Either way, while Tony loved his mother and lived for her attention, he heard a lot of excuses for why he was the way he was. She would tell him that Howard wasn't good at displaying affection while being the soul object of his affection.

He wasn't going to focus on the trauma though. This was happy memory time.

"I bet you all looked forward to the hunting trips, huh? I was the opposite. Not that Howard went on hunting trips, but he was never home. So when he was I was just like look at me! Look at me! Did you all do anything else special when he wasn't around?"

He groans and rubs his eyes at the mention of UFOs. "But we know there are aliens. We have a goddamn Alien on the Avengers. I mean he says he's a God, but Asgard sure as hell just seemed like another planet to me. Why are they making up UFOs when there are actual alien spacecraft coming to earth? What's the conspiracy here."

He whined and shook his head from side to side. "I hate this so much!"

[allelitedweaming]

Chuck Taylor x Reader (but no actual Chuck in this installment, sorry)

Part One?

Summary: You and Orange Cassidy are hanging out alone and you accidentally confess something you never meant to say out loud.

Rated PG for some mention of drinking alcohol / being drunk

Ever since you could remember, all of your best friends had been boys. That was why you had been watching wrestling since you were just a kid, among many other personality traits that only seemed to deepen with age. But as you got older you wondered, did it make you one of those women to constantly surround yourself with men? It wasn't as if you didn't have any female friends. There was Kris and ... Well, there was Kris.

Something told you that this particular quirk wouldn't be changing anytime soon, although, if you couldn't control your feelings you might find yourself with no friends instead of all male friends.

When you first came to work for AEW, Chuck and OC were the easiest people to talk to. You found you had the most in common with them, and even where your common interests ended, you loved to listen to the two of them go on at length about Resident Evil or even basketball, which you had never followed before. You related to them and to Trent and Kris because you also had a tendency to be unpolished in your promo work. You found it easier to just be yourself in the ring and out of it, even when it was for an angle. It was what made crowds fall in love with The Best Friends, and so far it had worked for you too.

So it was just the next logical step for Tony to start to pair you guys up together. It started with one tag match with Kris, but it soon grew into something bigger, until finally you were coming out with the rest of the gang in matching tracksuits.

Just like you weren't sure if you could pinpoint the exact moment that you became an official member of the team, you also weren't sure if you could remember when you realized you had fallen completely and totally in love with Dustin. The one thing you did know was that you could never ever tell him, let alone anyone else in your tightknit group.

So what were you doing at Orange's apartment at 2 AM? How had you managed to lose track of how many beers you had had? How did he seem so calm, cool, and collected? And why did he keep bringing the topic of conversation back around to Dustin?

"Sometimes he just gets insecure, you know?" Orange took another swig from his can. He was relaxed, a slight blush to his cheeks. His hair was slightly more mussed than usual and he wasn't wearing his signature shades, but other than that you would be pressed to spot the difference between the appearance of this Orange Cassidy and the one he played on TV. Plus, he wouldn't shut up. "Sometimes when we are alone, I try to reassure him a little. He's like an older brother to me. He doesn't get what a great guy he is."

You nodded. You were trying to play it cool but your poker face is terrible. Inside, you were melting at the tender way that Orange was describing his closest pal, so you were certain it was written all over your expression. You tried to change the subject for what must have been the third time, but Orange just went on.

"Sometimes I think he's lonely. But he'd never admit it. Like, tonight for example. Tonight, I invited him over." You couldn't help but look surprised. You felt your eyebrows shoot up. Orange jabbed the hand holding his beer in your direction. "Exactly, Y/N, exactly. He turned me down when I mentioned you would be here." Orange noticed your face fall and he got apologetic. "No no no, not like that. Dustin loves you. But sometimes I think he is too scared to be vulnerable around anyone. He was too scared to be here, just the three of us."

You sank back into the couch. The room was starting to spin and you weren't sure how much of it you could actually blame on the alcohol. "I think I'm in love with him." The words bubbled out of you before you realized you were speaking and not just thinking them for the millionth time. But they were quiet.

Orange leaned in towards you, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "What?"

You turned and looked at him, but you got so embarrassed you had to cover your face. "I think I'm in love with Dustin." You peeked through your fingers and were mortified to see Orange's toothy, crooked grin staring back at you.

He shot up off the couch like a rocket. "Hot dog!" He clapped his hands together and you couldn't help but start to giggle. You felt heat rising from your neck up into your cheeks. "This is incredible news! My two best buds are going to fall in love!"

"Orange, Orange, no," you put your beer down next to his and started to wave both hands at him in protest. "You can never tell him. You can never tell anyone!"

Orange threw his hands up as if in disgust. "What?" He asked indignantly. "What are you talking about?"

"No! I shouldn't have even told you! Shit, Orange, what time is it? How much have I had to drink?"

Your blonde friend slumped back down onto the couch next to you, frowning. "I rescind my hot dog."

"It is stricken from the record. Now it's time for you to go to bed and for me to pass out on your couch. Okay?" Orange just pouted at you. "Okay?"

"Fine!"

[wenellyb]

Is Sambucky Canon or Not?

TL;DR: Yes, it is

I've seen some people saying that they only see friendship between Sam and Bucky, and I can understand that. Because depending on your education, the environment you grew up and the kind of media you’re usually exposed to, you will have a different interpretation of different situations, in real life or in TV. Just let me insert a short story before I dive into the Sambucky topic:

My best friend's uncle is in his fifties and has been living with his roommate (a man) for more than 10 years. They lived together, went on holidays together but officially were just roommates. My best friend wondered if they were a couple, but never talked about it to her parents because it wasn't her business. Two years ago, they decided to come out and get married. My best friend's parents and his parents were genuinely surprised, they were not expecting that, at all, not even a little bit. Let me tell you that it didn’t even cross their mind that it was a possibility, at all. For them, it had always just been two men who had decided to live together because they were single. And preferred to have a roommate rather than living alone.

What I want to say with this story is that people will see what they want to see, or what they're used to see, or what they were raised to see. It’s human.

What I mean is that you will have different perception of a same event, depending on your own circumstances. And I think the writers of TFATWS were counting on that a little bit when it came to Sam and Bucky’s relationship. They obviously didn't want to make some big announcement or big love declaration.

And yes, of course, I have my own circumstances as well, influencing the way I see things. I have shipped SamBucky since Civil War, when they were supposedly enemies. I never expected anything to happen between them on screen. But then they got a show together and I was so so happy about it but I didn't expect anything other than friendship between them.

I was perfectly fine with that because a show was already more than enough: my man Sam Wilson was becoming Captain America, the show was great, the characters were great, their interactions were great, and this wasn't a love story anyway but a superhero show. I thought that here was no way the showrunners would ever go there. I changed my mind after episode 5. I tried to stay objective, but it was clear to me that the writers were hinting at a relationship that went beyond friendship between Sam and Bucky. In some of my previous posts, I explained that there are some scenes and writing choices that make absolutely no sense if you read them as a scene between two friends. I can link them if anyone’s interested.

Side note: I would like to know if one person on this website can tell me what was up with Bucky's behavior with Torres (in episode 5)? What other explanation is there, if not jealousy? It's a scene they chose to keep, so it was probably written this way, there must be a reason. Please I’m begging someone explain it to me. I'm genuinely asking, because otherwise that scene alone is canon Sambucky.

After episode 5, I was convinced they would make Sambucky canon, one way or the other and I started speculating about the ways they could do it. What I said was that if they did make Sambucky canon, they would do it in a very subtle way, in order not to make it too obvious because that’s generally how Marvel movies deal with love stories. And also because they wouldn’t want to scare away their homophobic audience ( I guess Disney needs their money...who knows)

So here are the scenes of how I imagined SamBucky becoming canon and the comparison with reality:

1.

- What I thought we could get : AJ and Cass calling Bucky "Uncle Bucky" - What we got: AJ and Cass running up to Bucky and playing with him. This point is interesting because it’s also related to the point I made about how the environment you grew up in influences your perception of things. I grew up in a big family and I know that, at least in my family, kids don't run up to an adult like that just because it's their uncle’s friend or just because he's nice... There's a real bond there. They haven't seen Bucky just that one time when he slept on the couch. They're obviously close. But some people might just see this as kids being kids. Also, if you watch at how the kids were fake punching him, they were really coordinated with Bucky. They have done this plenty of times. 2.

What I thought we could see: A non-explicit scene where we were supposed to draw our own conclusions. I thought they could show us Bucky staying over for the night, and the last scene would be an empty couch, meaning we would have to understand that Bucky slept in Sam's room this time.

-What we got: Bucky arriving in Sam's car ( A few people on Tumblr pointed out that it was the car Sam was driving in episode 1) So here again we have a scene that a lot of people will not notice. But they still chose to put it there. 3.

What I thought could happen: Sam asking Bucky to stay in Delacroix

What we got: Bucky wrapping things up in New York, as if he was leaving the city for good and coming to Sam's party as if he already knew everyone there. You can read my take on this here. 4. What I thought could happen: The scene in the trailer where we see them looking in the same direction and then we get a shot from very far away where they're holding hands but it’s not so obvious because they are being filmed from a disctance. -What we got: The scene in trailer and then a blurry shot of Sam holding Bucky and then fondling with his neck to find the best spot to rest his hand on. So none of the scenes I was imagining happened exactly like I had imagined, but it felt like all of them happened but in a different versions, which is still crazy to me. If it had been only one scene. I could probably understand the people who see them as just friends. Actually, I still do understand the people who see them as just friends, because everyone has their own interpretation. What I am saying is that they are NOT being portrayed as just friends. There are TOO many scenes in the 6 episodes for it to be a coincidence. One or 2 would be ok but friendship doesn’t explain everything:

The therapy scene (not the therapy scene itself since it was improvised) but the therapist saying she had heard a lot about Sam and wanting them to do a couples’ therapy

Bucky following Sam no matter what

Sam saying ok as soon as Bucky says "do it for me"

Sam asking "what about Bucky?"

Bucky starting to touch Sam whenever he has the chance

Bucky being the one to bringing the suit for Sam

The boat repairing montage

Bucky wanting to stay at Sam's place, when a hotel room would have been more comfortable than a couch

The second day of boat repair in closed quarters with an intense staring scene.

And there are so many other scenes, soft touches, looks,...

These writing choices are not a coincidence, it’s not involuntary, and it’s not fan service ( Fan service is the roll in the flower field scene, or the therapy session). This is them telling a story.

Let’s not even talk about the scenes in Endgame:

Sam comforting bucky at Tony’s funeral

Sam looking up to Bucky for approval before accepting the shield from Steve.

So yes, Sam and Bucky are canon in the sense that Peter and Gamora were canon in the first movie, or Wanda and Vision were canon in Captain Civil War. Meaning that there was no big moment, kiss or anything, but the show is consistently throwing elements clearly showing Sam and Bucky as a romantic item and hinting at a lot more than friendship between them.

It is normal that some people have a different opinion. Because it is extremely rare, in big productions like this to have two male leads with romantic feelings towards each other, so not a lot people who see it will interpret it as such (I don't think it ever happened). You’ll see what you’re used to seeing.

I guess it also depends on what you expect from a love story. For me, the storyline between the characters, their scenes, their chemistry, the way their feelings towards each other are described, are the most important. The kiss scene is just there as a bonus, but I don't need it when the love story is told perfectly. If you’re used to seeing love stories with many kissing scenes, that’s what you will be expecting to see in most love stories.

If you're only used to seeing male friendships in superhero or action movies. The 1000th time you see men interacting in that type of movie or show, you are more likely to assume it is a friendship and nothing more, no matter how many codes and tropes usually associated with romantic movies, the writers and show makers are using.

Add to that the conviction that Disney would never approve Sambucky in a million years, and there you go, I can understand the people who see only friendship.

But, just think about it, if we had the same show, same scenes, same dialogues, but minus the action scenes and the project was being marketed as an Indie movie, would you think they were just friends or a blossoming couple?

If you read Sambucky’s relationship like a friendship: some scenes don't make sense. If you read it like a developing romantic relationship: it all makes sense. "When you hear hoofs, think horse, not zebra" If a writer or a film director chooses a last scene with a romantic setting and the two leads are staring at a sunset, smiling repeatedly at each other and then walking away together with one of them touching the other's neck, with a love song in the background, maybe friendship isn't the first thought they had in mind.

Some people may say “I see them as just friends” and other people may say “ I see them as lovers” and both are fine, because people have different perceptions, and that’s ok.

What I am saying is this post is that the show and the writers are portraying them as more than just friends, they’re portraying them as two characters who are romantically involved.

Perceive what you want but that’s how they are being presented in the show.

Bucky’s therapist said that the exercise she gave them was for couples who want to figure out what kind of life they want to build together. Then, the show ends with Sam and Bucky, staring at a sunset together, looking in the same direction.

“Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction. “  - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

What else do you need???

This show had more romance than half of the Marvel projects out there. Not every love story needs a kiss (for now...)

We'll see in their next projects which direction the writers want to go with this. But since it was said that the writer on the movie is the same as the writer from episode 5, there's no doubt in my mind that we'll keep seeing this dynamic. I don't think they would have made the same choices if this had been a movie. But I won't complain that we got this. I hope they keep this going even if it stays subtle like in the show. Just hope they will add one explicit scene where one of the characters acknowledges their relationship. But even if we only ever get this show, it’s already a great love story. Let me know what you guys think and sorry for the typos and grammar mistakes, I was tired when I wrote the last part. I hope it still makes sense!

If you think they're only being portrayed as friends let me know why! I would also like to know about the way you see this!

[shades-of-stony]

Royalty Stony AUs

A King for Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

A Higher Form of War by sabremc

Summary: Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

Summary: "You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

Fealty by  Lasenby_Heathcote and Robin_tCJ

Summary: Steve Rogers is Lord of America, and was gifted his corner of the kingdom of Starkland after amazing acts of heroism in the war against Hydra. A long, brutal winter forces Steve to go to King Howard for aid, and Howard agrees – under the condition that Steve bond with his Omega son, Tony. Steve agrees, of course, for the good of his people. Prince Tony is a trained Omega Consort – an Omega of status sent to a prestigious academy to become the perfect Consort Mate to high-status Alphas throughout the kingdom. At this academy they learn diplomacy, negotiation, proper manners, and, of course, the various ways to pleasure their Alphas.

I will wait by Shellhead616

Summary: Prince Stark was to marry a Prince he never met, for money he never wanted, to reign over a realm his father didn’t care for. But the Prince did care for his people. So he ran away, accidentally joined a group of misfits calling themselves the “Avengers”, with their fierce leader “The Captain". Although, when he discovers the secret the Captain has been keeping, everything changes.

one day by mvrcredi

Summary: One day.

One day Prince Steven would be king. One day he would have all the qualities to be an even better king than his father.

And maybe, one day, Tony would be his husband.

(But maybe, before that one day, Steven should reveal his secret to the man.)

My Loyalty to You by Hazein, Shi_Toyu

Summary: The Israelite nation has gone to war, Howard is acting erratic, and it’s everything Tony can do to argue with the war council to find the most advantageous strategies for their men. Then Thanos strides out of the enemy ranks and issues a challenge unlike any Tony has ever heard. If an Israelite can defeat him in one-on-one combat, their entire army will surrender. Too bad Thanos is twice the size of any man they have. Enter Steve Rogers, local sheppard and the king’s newest harp player, who claims he can fell this giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.

Whether he can manage it or not, Tony is just trying to figure out how you get to looking like that by tending sheep...

Arranged by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Summary: Royalty AU-- Howard arranges a match between Tony and Steve, but when Tony tries to run away with Tiberius instead, Steve goes after his betrothed and brings him home. Things are difficult between the couple at first, but an impulsive kiss leads to softer moments, and finally the arranged pair find happiness together.

Knight of Wands by  Sineala

Summary: Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.

But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected.

Chasing Daydreams by comecatchmeifyoucan

Summary: “Promise you’ll be there?” He mumbled into Steve’s chest.

“Of course.”

“Good.” Tony separated from Steve but his hand was still gently gripping the blond’s wrist. “Because the party only starts when I arrive, and I’m obviously not going if you won’t be there.”

Steve felt the brunet’s hand slip down to graze his, and he let it linger there for a second before it was suddenly pulled away from him. He could only hope that he had hidden his disappointment well.

Fortunately, Tony didn’t seem to notice Steve’s abrupt drop in mood.

✧ ─────── ♡ ─────── ✧

After years of pining for the brunet, Steve was finally going to get his chance to confess his feelings for Tony. If only he could find him in the crowd of masked-people first...

Luckily, when his hopeless crush is nowhere to be found, Steve meets a beautiful stranger to keep him company throughout the night.

heavy is the crown by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: “Why did you pick me? As a match. Howard forced you to marry, but you had - there were other options. Many of them.”

“Maybe I wanted to help you,” Tony says. “To help - anyone, for once. Your people needed it.”

Oh, Steve thinks dully. So it wasn’t about him at all. It’s - a comfort, in some ways. In others, it’s… less so.

“And-” Tony hesitates. "Everyone said you were kind. I thought… if I had to marry, I’d prefer to marry someone kind.”

(Or, Arranged Marriage AU.)

WIP:

The Crown- the stony au nobody asked for by Jo_StClaire

Summary: Tony is the sole Omega prince of Angsold, who falls in love with the Alpha Army Captain of a neighboring nation. When his father, King Howard, suddenly falls ill and passes, Tony's life is thrown out of wack when he becomes a reigning monarch at 25. Follow Tony through the struggles of being a newly-wedded Omega as well as a leader of a nation. He must learn to balance his love for his people with his love for his husband Steve. (Loosely Based off of the Netflix series The Crown)

No More, No Less by ABrighterDarkness

Summary: His father had been discussing it again, amongst his advisers. He was barely eighteen , what did he need of a wife at eighteen? Frankly, he was already tired of hearing about it. Tired of meeting the daughters of the various men that were deemed important enough. None of them had caught his attention in the least and he suspected that they never would. Not when his daydreams already consisted of intelligent brown eyes, rich brown curls and a wickedly charming grin.

Protea by Anonymous

Summary: After witnessing the injustice done onto his parents, Steve Rogers sneaks into the Ferrite Royal Palace to try and find answers. Fate decides to saddle him with solving shady scandals while unknowingly becoming involved with the nation’s omegan king, Anthony.

And deal with all the baggage and drama that comes along with it.

Or…

A Concubine!Steve AU

they're both princes in this one by vapaad

Summary: Steve Rogers is the first son of the United States The entire nation sees him as America’s golden boy. Handsome, smart, charming, and overall perfection– Steve is an icon to the youths of America. But Steve, well he has one little issue. He thinks Prince Anthony, yes the british prince, is a big jerk. Arrogant and an overall asshole.

So when an encounter between the two results in chaos, Steve and Anthony “call me Tony” are thrusted into a PR stint of being best friends. But soon enough, they both come to the realization that they want more, and there, bloomed a secret relationship between the first son of the united states, and the prince of England.

tell me i'm your national anthem by oopshidaisy for chasingconstellations

Summary: Red, White & Royal Blue AU. Tony Stark is the unwilling First Son of the United States, whose rivalry with beloved Prince Steve threatens UK/US relations. After an international incident involving a wedding cake, Steve and Tony are forced to fake a friendship for the public eye - a fake friendship that evolves into something real, and dangerous.

[absolutelyfizzing]

No flirting

Sam Wilson x Bucky's relative!reader

Description: Out of timeline! Reader is Bucky's great niece (his sister's granddaughter) who he found when he got to NY. She is staying in the tower for a week or so to take a sort of vacation. While she is there, she meets a certain flying man of the south and she starts to fall for him, much to her uncle's dismay.

Warnings: fluff? Sort of old fashioned Bucky, maybe a little ooc sam? I tried but idk if it went okay. This is awful writing, it was late and I don’t know how to write dialogue!

Word count- about 3000

MASTERLIST

You pulled into the parking garage of the avenger tower with a smile on your face. It had been a couple weeks since you had seen your uncle, well your grand uncle, because he had been off on a mission with Steve and the Falcon. You'd never met Sam Wilson before, only hearing about him from Bucky and Steve, but you figured he had to be pretty great to be an avenger.

You got your bag out of the trunk after you parked and began to make your way to the elevator. You had a room that remained pretty empty when you weren't there. Because of your closeness with most of the team, it had been offered to you permanently. You declined in favor of having your own place in Brooklyn and just staying at the tower whenever you needed a break from work or your friends or something. You waited patiently for the elevator doors to open on the right floor excitedly, knowing FRIDAY probably alerted Bucky you were on you way up. Your suspicions were confirmed when you were tackled in a pile of super solider as Steve and Bucky hugged you tightly. Steve had become family as well to you, just as much as Bucky was. You loved them both very much but at the moment they were squeezing the life out of you.

"Excuse me, I am a non enhanced person." You gasped out "I need air please."

At this they let you go, dopey grins on their faces.

"How is my favorite niece?" Bucky asked with a smile on his face, knowing it bothered you a little bit. You saw him as more of a friend than an uncle so being reminded that he was related to you and also was 100 and something years old was a little exhausting.

"Oh shove off. I'm great but I'd love some help getting this to my room?" You hinted while lifting your large bag.

Steve didn't hesitate to pick it up, absolutely no sign of effort on his face as he did so which frustrated you to no end.

"Thank you Steve" you chirped as he smiled kindly back at you and the three of you began to make your way to the room you would be occupying for the next week.

"So how's your mom?" Bucky questioned genuinely.

"You mean your actual niece? She's good, struggling to enjoy retirement at the moment." You smiled at the mention of your mom.

"I would have thought she would be enjoying it. Teaching always seemed like an exhausting job to me." He mentioned.

You agreed but then remembered "Says you, you've been on the job for over 80 years."

He gave you a side glare and then grumbled, "Touché"

You had arrived at your room, it was just the same as the last time you saw it besides the sheets having been changed, the room vacuumed, and the bed made. You smiled lightly. Tony was as softhearted as they come.

Steve put your bag down and they looked at you waiting for you to do something.

"Well come on! I wanna go say hi to the team!" You gushed as you grabbed their hands and started hurrying towards the living room of the floor where you knew most of the team members would be found on any given day.

As you walked in you heard multiple squeals and you were hugged by two redheads. Natasha and Wanda both loved you as you were about their age and were a little less jarring than most of the men they spent the day with. "I missed you guys." You whispered to them as the hugged you, Bucky and Steve having moved off to the couch to chat while you caught up with everyone.

"You missed us?! We have so much to tell you! What has taken you so long to come back here?!" Wanda whined a little.

"Buck wasn't around for the last couple weeks, he was away!"

"So? We are here and you're welcome any time, you know that!" Nat scolded. You knew she was right but you didn't want to intrude.

"You could never intrude." Wanda responded and you glared that she read your mind. She gave an apologetic look but you knew it was mostly fake. You were then pulled away from them by a rather large hand, when you turned around you saw the blond god who you were so fond of.

"Lady Y/N! How great to see you! So glad I was here when you were visiting." He said merrily. You wrapped him in a hug, it was a rare occasion that he was actually here when you stopped by. Other than them there was only one other person in the room, someone you presumed to be Sam Wilson. He was smiling at you already, waiting his turn to introduce himself. When you pulled away from Thor he walked over and you took a moment to admire him. He was tall and strong looking but his eyes were gentle and he looked like he gave good hugs and made people laugh. He stuck his hand out to you.

"Y/N, right? I'm Sam." He smiled. You smiled right back and shook his hand.

"No no no, no flirting." Bucky called from the couch, glaring daggers at Sam in front of you, your hand still holding onto his as you both looked over.

"Buck I didn't even do anything!" You whined, slightly embarrassed as you blushed. Sam noticed and just smiled again but let go of your hand.

"So you’re the Bionic Man's niece, yeah?" You smiled and nodded.

"Great niece, technically. My grandma is his little sister." You smiled and Bucky groaned.

"God that makes me sound so old."

"That's cause you are old!" You countered and Bucky just grumbled under his breath something about how he could still kick it with the kids.

You made eye contact with Sam again but looked away shyly and moved toward the kitchen in the common area to get yourself a cup of water. The conversation around the room buzzed and the only person who wasn't occupied was Sam as he followed you over to the kitchen.

"A shame I haven't met you before, I’ve been missing out." He smirked. He seemed a little cocky but you didn't mind. In fact you found it kind of attractive as it complimented your shy personality pretty well.

"Well don't worry I've heard all about you, Bird-Man. My relative has a grudge." You smirked as you sipped your water.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Oh he's just grumpy cause I can beat him in a fight."

"That sounds about right. I can't imagine what else he could be holding against you."

"Pretty soon he's gonna be mad at me for trying to flirt with his niece but I don't think I care much." He smirked.

Your eyes widened but you couldn't hide the smile he gave you very well.

"Oh Sam, I think he would kill us both."

"A worthwhile death." He continued.

"You're gonna have to step up your game then cause from where I'm standing, I don't wanna piss of my uncle with a vibranium arm over just anything." You challenged, wanting to see if he was serious. He smirked at you.

"Challenge accepted." He said and then he didn't leave your side for the rest of the day. This was much to the frustration of Bucky but you were an adult and he had other things he had to do anyway so he left it be besides the constant glare at the man who always seemed to be beside you. He followed you around like a lost puppy as you said hello to the avengers you hadn't seen yet, including meeting Peter for the first time. By the end of the night he was already through your shell and you were conversing with him with no effort. You could feel that this was not going to go well later but you couldn't help yourself.

"You know I'll take you up in that flying lesson sometime, sounds like fun to me." You smiled at him and he beamed back.

"That's why I offered it, I'd love an excuse to spend some more time with you."

"You don't need an excuse, you know. You could just hang out with me." You blushed and he did a little bit too. Without another word you headed to the room he had just walked you to and opened the door.

As soon as you closed it you smiled giddily and slid down the door, you could see Wanda and Nat talking to each other before looking at you. You had planned to have a sleepover the first night you were back and they had been waiting for you for like a half hour.

"Spill!" They both shouted at the same time.

You grinned before telling them about how Sam was being so sweet to you and that you were starting to get feelings for him.

"But it's only been a day, why do I already feel like this?!" You complained

"Y/N, he's been all over you all day, I'm sure he's in the same boat!" Wanda pulled you up from your spot on the floor and brought you over to the couch in your room.

"Yeah he's been following you around with puppy dog eyes. And it's really starting to piss off bucky too, as if they need another thing to hate each other over." Nat sighed.

You felt doubt start to creep in, Bucky was your family and you didn't want to go against his wishes. But Sam was so sweet and arrogant at the same time and the thought of him made your heart pick up speed.

"I'm not gonna act on it yet. I don't wanna make Buck upset over nothing. I'll wait till the end of the week and if it's still a thing I might consider talking to Sam about maybe going on a date." You said, getting quieter and quieter with every word. Both girls yelled out their excitement and began planning your outfits and actions for the next week so you could "keep him interested" in you. You went to bed exhausted but ready to take on the week of figuring out if your chemistry with the superhero was real.

The next week was torturous. Sam was just as flirtatious as he had been the first day and he got bolder and bolder as the week went on. He had asked you out a number of times, each time you responded with some non answer to try to buy more time. Bucky was getting progressively more frustrated about the flirting between you two until day 5 of your stay.

You and Sam were watching a movie together, you told yourself it was just as friends. You were on opposite ends of a couch and you could feel yourself getting more and more tired. Eventually you fell asleep during the movie and Bucky happened to walk by as you did. Sam noticed you asleep and smiled at the sight before he wrapped you in a blanket. Bucky sighed quietly and made his way to the kitchen to get water, not having been noticed by Sam yet who was too occupied with you. As Sam lifted you off the couch and began to carry you to your room, Bucky found it harder and harder to believe that the mans intentions were anything but pure. And he had never seen you so smitten. He begrudgingly decided he would not stand in the way of you two and he might even have to convince you to ask Sam out if you kept up the shy act.

The next day you awoke in your room. Not knowing how you got there you looked around. You remembered falling asleep on the couch while you were watching something with Sam. There was a note on your nightstand so you reached over to pick it up, heart rate increasing as you read the note.

"Didn't want to wake you, I hoped you slept well

- Bird Man"

You smiled as you read the note and began to make your way out of bed. You noticed there were socks on your feet even though you were sure you hadn't put them on. You almost got lightheaded at the realization that Sam put socks on you feet last night before you went to bed so that you wouldn't get cold in the night. The thought made you blush at how domestic it was but you wanted to thank him. You made your way down the hallway, still in your pajamas pants and hoodie you'd worn last night and you knew your hair was a mess. Still when you got to the kitchen and made eye contact with sam, his eyes brightened a bit and a smile came across his face. 

"Thanks for getting me to my room last night." You blushed shyly. You could feel your heart going faster and faster as you looked down at your socks.

"I would happily do that every night if it meant I got to take you out on a date." He smiled, already expecting you to avoid the implication again. You smiled at him and then glanced over at Bucky who was already looking at you. He winked and nodded and you knew what he meant.

You made eye contact with Sam, "Tomorrow night at 7, you can take me to dinner." You said while looking into your mug of coffee you had just poured. You looked up at Sam to see his reaction as his face fell neutral before he grinned. He quickly corrected his face too look like he was less excited.

"I knew I'd get you to crack eventually" he pointed out. You rolled your eyes before turning to walk toward the couch.

"I can take it back" you began before he interrupted you.

"No no, no need to do that, I have a great place in mind for dinner." He quickly said and you just smiled up at him lightly. The rest of the day was spent daydreaming about your date tomorrow.

The next night you were getting ready for your date, you had a flattering dress on and had your makeup done up, just finishing before there was a knock on your door. You checked the time and sure enough it was 7:00 sharp.

You mentally prepared yourself and took a deep breath before opening the door to reveal a fidgety Sam Wilson. The sight made you laugh a bit as he had never looked so nervous. It made you feel a bit better that he was nervous too. You took a moment to look each other over. Sam's eyes drifted south until he reached your legs and then back up to your lips. His eyes stayed there for a second before moving back up to your eyes. You had just finished gazing over his built frame that was squeezed perfectly into his suit. You nearly swooned. He had a bouquet of your favorite flowers ready which you shyly took and put into a vase in your room, thanking him quietly. There was a single moment of nerves before you broke the silence.

"You look very handsome." You smiled as you made eye contact with him, your hands fidgeting.

"I can't even believe I managed to get a date with a girl as pretty as you." Sam smirked before offering his elbow to you, which you promptly took. When you reached the elevator you both saw Bucky standing there with his arms crossed.

"Have her back by 10:30. No funny business." He glared at Sam before looking at you. "Have fun sweetheart, you know how to throw a punch if you need to." He smiled at you as Sam gulped. You gave Bucky a peck on the cheek before you and Sam both entered the elevator and it was on it's way down.

You ended up having dinner at Sam's favorite southern food restaurant in the city. More specifically, Louisiana barbecue. You loved the food and you didn't even feel pressure to eat pretty as you and Sam were having such a good time. You both were wildly overdressed but that was part of the fun. He payed for dinner and you promised to get the next one which had him smiling like a fool cause it meant you would go on another date with him.

After dinner he took you out to a dancing bar, but it wasn't fast paced or gross like many seemed to be in the city. Instead they played slower songs and it was less loud. You were grinning ear to ear as you slowly danced together, pressed together as close as you could be. At about 10:00 you began to head back to the tower. You decided to walk there because you didn't want to get home too fast and it was such a nice night out. You had never felt safer than with Sam at your side either.

When you made it back up you the residential floor of the tower, you saw Bucky sitting in the common space with a glare on. He made eye contact with you and when you smiled at him he winked and made his way to bed, not missing a chance to glower at Sam on his way by. You could feel Sam growing nervous next to you as he walked you back to your room. You turned around to face him and his hands were fidgeting. You took a deep breath to gather your courage before leaning up to him and kissing him deeply. He responded immediately and wrapped one of his hands around the back of your neck. You kissed until you had to come away to breathe and you both made eye contact. He smiled at the event that just happened and he took your hand in his before kissing it.

"I think that was the best date I've ever been on." He smiled.

"Well you're gonna have to top it next time." You smirked. He looked back at you and had a faraway look in his eyes. You said your goodbyes and you went to bed with cheeks that hurt from smiling so much.

He did indeed top it next time, and every date after that.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 15

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,365ish

Summary: The divorce papers are still an issue. (Grey’s Anatomy 2x05) [Finally! I know. Thank you for being patient with me!]

You grabbed your things and rushed out of the bar. Steve quickly did the same.

“Y/N,” Steve called.

“No. I don’t want to talk about this,” you replied, heading down the street. “Not now. Not with you.”

“Y/N…”

“You didn’t sign the divorce papers. Fine. I get it. End of discussion.”

“Y/N.”

“What?!?” You finally spun around to face him.

“Oh… I usually just say ‘Y/N’ and then you yell at me. I haven’t really thought past that point.” You scowled and shook your head. “I actually didn’t have anything planned.” You hit him with your bag. “Hey!” He rubbed his arm. “What is with that?” You did it a few more times. “Hey stop it. Ow.”

“Seriously?! Seriously?! You know what, just leave me alone.”

Steve reached for you. “Y/N—“

“Stop it! I said leave me alone! I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You stormed off, heading to find your car so that you could go back home. You were pissed at Steve and, mostly, yourself. How could you let yourself believe that he would be so willing to sign those divorce papers to be with you?

~~~ 

All you interns had just finished rounds and Gamora had you all in the hallway for assignments. Before she could call them out, Peggy interrupted.

“Has anyone seen Dr. Rogers this morning?” She wondered.

“His name is on the OR board,” Gamora answered. “He should be here somewhere.”

“Thank you.” Peggy swiftly walked off.

“Quill, Lang, you’re in the pit today. Val, there’s a cardiac patient waiting up for you on 2. Barton, they need help in peds. Romanoff, keep an eye on the Longs. And L/N, you’re with Rogers. I don’t want any problems. Go.”

Everyone hurried away while you stayed put. “Rogers?” You whispered. “Uh, I guess, which one?”

“Steve.”

“Uh, I don’t think—“

“Hey, life is short. Times are hard. The road is long with many a winding turn,” Gamora sassed. “He actually asked for you. Take it up with him.” Gamora walked away.

“Shit.”

“Shit? Oh no,” Tony showed up beside you. “It’s only morning. What’s wrong already?”

“Steve didn’t sign the divorce papers.”

“Oh,” Tony grimaced. 

“And now he’s asked for me to be on his service today.”

“Well, maybe he will sign them. He just has to think about it.”

“But I don’t want him to think about it. I want it… I want…”

“You want to be the obvious choice. I get it.”

“Yeah… how’s trying to get Pepper going?”

“I think I almost have her. I’ve been in on all her surgeries that I can be. Fury and Hill are even making it work.”

“Wow. I wish I had everyone on my side. But… I don’t and it doesn’t matter anymore. It has to be his choice, not mine, not me pleading or begging. It needs to be all him.”

“Wise,” Tony nodded. “I still think he’ll choose you.”

“We will see… we will see…”

~~~

“Y/N,” Steve greeted when you found him.

“Your wife is looking for you,” you responded.

“Oh, my gosh,” he sighed. “This is hard for me, Y/N.”

“Well, let me make it easy then. I’m not gonna be that woman. The one who breaks up a marriage or begs you to want me. You can sign the papers or you cannot. The choice is yours. Either way, when it comes to this relationship, I’m out.” Steve’s eyes widened and he went to speak but you quickly cut him off. “Nope. We aren’t getting into it anymore. Now, where’s this patient I’m supposed to be helping with.”

Steve pointed behind him. “Down there. But, Y/N—“

“No.” You walked away, Steve following.

“Y/N—“

“No.”

Finally letting it go, Steve sighed and followed you into the patient’s room. There was a young woman on the bed.

“Good morning,” Steve greeted.

“Morning Dr. Rogers,” she responded.

“This is Dr. L/N.”

“Hello,” you greeted. “Can you tell us about your pain?”

“I’ve had a twinge in my back for a little while,” the young woman explained. “I thought it would go away, but then last night my legs went numb. And this morning my back… the pain is just too much.”

“Miss Yang, we’re going to put you on a PCA pump,” Steve said, “give you some morphine which should help control the pain.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, but there is a bigger problem here. I’ve just take a look at your MRI—“

“Cris!” A man exclaimed, him and a woman rushing into the room and to the young woman’s bedside. “Why didn’t you call us before coming down here?”

“I’m sorry,” Cris said. She turned to look at you and Steve. “These are my parents.”

“What’s going on?”

“I was just about to explain that Cris’s MRI has shown that she has myxopapillary ependymoma,” Steve answered. “It’s a tumor in her spinal canal. But the good news is that we can operate. You have a 95% chance of fully if we get you into surgery as soon as possible. We can’t wait another moment. With a tumor this aggressive even waiting another day puts you at risk of permanent paralysis.”

“Father?” Cris questioned, looking to the man.

Mr. Yang shook his head. “No,” he said. “No surgery.”

“Mr. Yang, without surgery Cris will be paralyzed, probably within the next 24 hours,” Steve said.

“There will be no surgery today. We’re taking her home.”

“Cris needs the surgery,” you pressed.

“And she can have it at another time.”

“Look,” Steve tried again, “Mr. Yang—“

“We are taking our daughter home.”

Steve looked at Cris. “Cris, you are over 18. You don’t need your father’s consent.”

“I am Hmong, and my father is the elder,” Cris explained. “He says I go home, I go home.”

You could tell that Steve was holding back from a harsh reply. He gave Mr. Yang a nod before leaving the room, you following after him.

“Hmong? Let’s find out what that means,” Steve said.

“Do I continue to process her discharge?” You wondered.

“Yeah we have to. It’s insane, but we have to. It reminds me of this case I had one time and this woman came to the office and—“

“Look, do you need me for anything else work related?”

Steve looked around the hallway before pulling you into an on-call room with him.

“Look, I was married for 11 years,” Steve began. “Peggy is my family. That is 11 Thanksgivings, 11 birthdays and 11 Christmases. And in one day, I’m supposed to sign a piece of paper and end my family? A person doesn’t do that. Not without a little hesitation. I’m entitled to a little uncertainty here! At least a moment to understand the magnitude to what it means to cut somebody out of my life. I’m entitled to at least one moment of painful doubt. And a little understanding from you would be nice.”

“I am not fighting you on this,” you responded, opening the door. “Not anymore.”

You stormed away. Leaving both you and Steve in an confused state of anger.

~~~

Bruce was walking down the hall when he noticed Peggy.

“Dr. Rogers,” he greeted. “Still here, I see.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” she responded with a smile. “Have you seen the other Dr. Rogers by chance?”

“I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks,” Peggy walked off and Natasha walked up.

“So, um, thanks for, uh, being there,” she said softly.

“No thanks needed,” Bruce responded.

“Okay.”

“So where are we?”

“Uh, the north-east corner of a medical center.” Bruce glared at her. “Oh, I’m, I’m getting back on my feet.”

“Fine.”

“That doesn’t mean that—“

“Natasha.”

“It’s my first day back, I’ve… I’ve got—“

“I’m not waiting forever.” The lights flickered, causing the two of them to glance up. “And, apparently, I’m not the only one.”

“Dr. Banner!” Nurse Vision jogged up. “There’s a problem with the elevator!”

“And?”

“Dr. Quill and Dr. Barton are stuck in it with your GSW patient that they were bringing up to the OR.”

“I should have fought harder for the pit,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

“Lightning hit a sub station,” Maria Hill told Fury as they walked down the hall with Peggy. “We’re running on back up generators.” The medical center had lost its power. “One of them is down.” 

Fury stopped, causing the others to do so as well. He rested his hands on his hips, annoyed.

“Breathe, Nick,” Peggy guided. “Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to breathe, damn it!” He exclaimed. “The only direct means of transporting from the ER to the OR isn’t working. I’ll breathe if I wanna breathe.”

Fury huffed before making his way to the elevators. Gamora and Banner were there, watching some men pry open an elevator.

“How bad is it?” Fury asked.

“Two interns and a GSW to the chest,” Bruce explained.

Fury closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead.

“Good air in,” Peggy coaxed, doing it herself. “Bad air out.”

Fury gave her a look before turning his attention back on the elevator. “Come on people! Get those doors open!”

The men working on the elevator doors, finally get the door partially open. Revealing that the elevator car was caught between floors. Peter and Clint were in there with their GSW patient.

“It’s jammed,” one of the workers said. “It won’t open anymore. This is as wide as it will go.”

“What did you two do?” Gamora asked the interns in the elevator, kneeling down to see them better.

“Nothing!” They both exclaimed.

“How’s the patient?” Bruce asked, getting down beside Gamora.

“He’s not looking so good,” Clint answered.

~~~

“Why do the lights keep flickering?” Cris asked.

“Something about a backup generator,” you answered, finishing up hooking the morphine up to her IV. “This pump will provide you with a morphine drip and should stop your pain.”

“I told you, I don’t need it. I’m going home.”

“You realize you’ll have to sign an AMA form stating that you’re leaving against medical advice.”

“Fine,” she nodded.

“I know this is new and confusing. I actually called a social worker, they’re willing to come down and talk to you—“

“Spare me the cultural divide, love. I grew up from the street down here. I play in a band. I get it. My father doesn’t. He says no, it’s no.”

“We’re talking about your ability to ever walk again.”

“That’s what you're talking about. I’m talking about my family. Have you ever even heard of the Hmong people?” You shook your head. “Our religion has got rules that are way old and way set in stone and way spiritual and you don’t mess with them.” She sighed. “You don’t anger the ancestors. Even if you pierce your tongue and play in a band.”

“What are the rules exactly?”

~~~

“Rogers!” Gamora shouted as she headed towards Steve. “You’re wife is looking for you.”

“I know,” he responded.

“Are you actively avoiding her?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

Gamora scoffed, shaking her head as she walked away. “You’ve got to deal with your problems before they all blow up in this medical center!”

“Steve,” you called, coming up beside him.

“Yes?” He replied, turning to look at you.

“You need to talk to Cris’s father. I’d do it myself but I guess having testicles is a requirement.”

Steve sighed. “Did you try social services?”

“They can’t help us. Mr. Yang believes that Cris is missing something that she needs for surgery.”

“Missing something? Missing what?”

“One of her souls. We don’t need someone from social services. We need a shaman.”

~~~

Peter and Clint were still stuck in the elevator with their patient, Tommy. The patient was getting delirious, trying to sit up and pull out the tubes and wires.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Peter asked, trying to stop him.

“I have to get home,” Tommy said.

“Tom, you’re in the hospital.”

He sat up. “Need to get home.” Clint and Peter quickly worked to restrain him. “No. Need to get home.”

Dr. Banner, hearing the commotion, peered through the small opening of the elevator doors. “What’s his blood pressure?” The attending asked.

“It’s not reading,” Clint informed. “He’s too agitated.”

“How’s his pulse?”

“Thready but it’s still there,” Peter answered.

“Do you have any instruments?”

“Uh, we have…” Peter quickly looked around. “Uh, just a code box and some gloves.”

“You didn’t bring an open chest tray?”

“No. We thought—“

“You don’t have time for excuses. Barton, blood pressure.”

“I’ve taken it 3 times,” Clint replied.

“And?”

“I can’t hear systolic over 50.” Clint looked down at Tommy, who is really pale and wheezing. “He’s gonna die.” Both interns look at each other, scared.

“Intubate him,” Bruce ordered. “I’ll be right back.” He went to push himself up off the floor.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To get an instrument tray. You guys are going to have to open up his chest.”

Clint and Peter looked back at each, minds going a mile a minute as Banner stood up. Gamora was behind him, having heard the whole thing.

“Are you sure about having them open his chest?” Gamora asked.

“No,” he answered before he hurried away.

~~~

Chief Fury and Dr. Hill were walking down the hall together.

“This is incogitable,” Fury said. “There’s not enough power to move those elevators?”

“They’re doing what they can to replace the back up generator now,” Hill responded. “Fire department is standing by.”

“All critical patients?”

“Moved to the south wing.”

“Incoming trauma?”

“Re-routed to the other medical centers.”

“That damn back-up generator should’ve been replaced last year.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why didn’t it happen? Dr. Hill, you know everything. Tell me whose ass I need to kick.”

“That would be your ass, Chief. You didn’t authorize the replacement generator to save money for the new MRI machine.”

Not wanting to show weakness, Fury walked away. Grumbling under his breath as he went.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Bruce to return to the elevator with the things the interns would need.

“This isn’t gonna be too sterile,” Bruce said as he got down to hand them the tools, “but we can still try. Prep and drape the patient.”

“On it,” Clint responded, quickly getting to work.

Peter stood there for a moment, nervously staring at Tommy. Eventually, he snapped out of it, shakily helping.

“Okay…” Peter breathed out once they were finished. “We’re really going to do this.”

Clint just looked at him, both interns feeling completely unprepared, as he kept squeezing air into the patient. Bruce stuck his hand back through with a pair of scissors and a scalpel in it. He hands them towards Peter, looking at him expectedly.

“Take these,” the attending said. Peter just looked at them, remaining still. “Quill, take the scalpel.” Peter just continued to stand frozen.

“Come on, Peter!” Clint exclaimed. “Take the damn scalpel!”

Dr. Banner looked at Peter, completely confused as to way the intern wasn’t moving. Bruce shook his hand to signal for Peter to take the instruments. But the intern looked away.

“Ventilate!” Clint demanded, annoyed at Peter as he shoved what he was holding into Peter’s hands. “I got it.” Clint swiped the instruments from Dr. Banner. He shot Peter an angry look. “Okay,” Clint looked to Dr. Banner. “What do I do?”

“Make a large anterior, lateral, mid-auxiliary incision in the 5th intercostal space,” Bruce directed.

“How—how large?”

“As long as possible. You need to get 2 hands in there. It needs to be long and deep. Use the scissors if you have to.” Peter then made eye contact with Bruce. “Quill, hold a light up for Barton while you’re ventilating. You can do that, right?” 

Peter nodded, grabbing a flashlight from Banner. Clint took a deep breath. He was about to cut when Bruce startled him.

“Barton, be sure you don’t cut into the lobe of the heart,” Bruce warned.

“Uh… how—“ Clint paused to clear his throat. “How can I be sure of that?”

“You just have to be sure.”

“We’ll, uh, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Clint tried to joke before cutting into Pete’s chest.

~~~

You walked up to Cris’ room. Steve was standing outside, watching the patient and her father interact.

“Is the shaman here yet?” You asked.

“He’s late,” Steve replied. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “We need to get her into surgery right now.”

Before you really thought about it, you put a comforting hand on Steve’s arm. “It will work out.”

Steve looked down at your hand and then at you. You two stared at each other, lost in the others eyes. It was too long before you realized that you two were too close for your liking and that your hand was still on his arm.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back.

“Y/N, please just—“

You shook your head. “I’ll see how far our shaman’s out.” And you hurried away.

~~~

Bruce hadn’t moved from his viewpoint of inside the elevator. It had been a while now since Clint had cut into Tommy, but Bruce couldn’t see exactly what was going on.

“Barton, how are you doing down there?” He asked.

“Bruce,” Maria Hill said before Clint could answer. “The fire department’s here. They can get the doors open.”

“No!” Bruce turned to look at the crowd behind him. “Nobody moves. Nobody works not he elevator. I have an open chest and a very nervous intern in there. Keep them back until I give the word.” Dr. Hill nodded, motioning everyone back, before Bruce focused back on inside the elevator. “Clint.”

“I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs,” Clint answered, clearly surprised. “Dr. Banner, I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs!”

“Good, good. Very good. Now check for injuries and do a pericardiotomy.”

“Uh, I’ll need some lap pads, forceps, Metzenbaums and Satinksy clamps then.”

Bruce gave a light smile and a nod. “Yes, you will.”

Clint was quickly given the supplies and got to work. 

“Okay… I’ve removed the small clot from the pericardium,” Clint informed Dr. Banner. “No obvious cardiac injuries.”

“Any change in the vitals?” Bruce wondered.

“BP’s still too low to register on the monitor,” Peter spoke up.

“We need to cross clamp the aorta.”

Clint grabbed the clamp from a tray next to him and put it through the opening.

“Stick your hand in and bluntly dissect down until you feel two tube-like structures,” Bruce guided. “The esophagus will be more medical and anterior.”

Clint stuck both his bands in the open chest. “Ah, I feel one tube that is easily collapsible and the other I store muscular, spongy. I can also feel the spine, just underneath it.”

“Yes, you’re touching the aorta.”

The intern grinned. “I’m touching the aorta.”

“Wrap the index finger of your left hand around it and apply a Satinsky clamp with your right hand.”

Clint put in the clamp. “Got it… Wait, I… I think I can localize the bleeding. I… Well… I think it’s coming from the inferior vena cava.”

“Can you find the lesion?”

“Yeah. Yeah… I think I can feel, ah—it’s too far in to repair.”

“Can you tell me how big it is?”

“Small, maybe… like, smaller than a dime.”

“Okay then Barton, I want you to take your finger and plug the hole.”

Clint nodded and did as directed. “I think I can feel his heart… it’s… it’s starting to fill more. It’s beating a little stronger.”

“Excellent. Keep your finger there.”

“Okay. Now what?”

“That’s it.”

“Really?” Bruce turned to lay on his back in relief. “I just stand here with my finger plugging the hole?”

“Yes. Until we can get you out of that elevator and into the OR.” Bruce lifted his head and looked at Dr. Hill. “Tell the fire department to get them out of there.”

“On it,” Hill responded.

Bruce rolled back over and looked at Clint. “Barton.”

“Yes, sir?” The intern replied.

“You just flew solo.”

~~~

“Okay, Cris. We’re going to shut off the PCA pump now,” you began explaining, “which means you will be in a lot of pain for the duration of the—“

“The healing ritual,” Cris interrupted.

“Are you going to be okay with that?”

“Yeah. I can’t find my soul if I’m medicated. No pain, no gain, right?”

“Just, tell me this… you believe in it all too, right? You’re not just doing this for your father.”

“I know it sounds like a load of crap but… just watch the ritual. You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“The moment it happens.” You nodded as the shaman came in with Cris’ family. She looked at them. “I’m ready.”

To give them some room, you and Steve watched and waiting from outside the room.

“How long do you think it takes to retrieve a lost soul?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

You and Steve carefully watched the healing ritual. And you did see what Cris was talking about. The moment it happened. You didn’t have to believe in it, but you did find a new found respect for her beliefs.

~~~

During Cris’ surgery, you and Steve worked in tandem. You felt weighed down the whole time though. Peggy stood watch in the gallery, smiling down at Steve. He looked up every so often, always looking at his wife. You noticed each time.

You had already finished scrubbing out of surgery by the time Steve started himself. You were outside the scrub room, pacing. You couldn’t do this, this whole pretending to not care thing. It was too hard. You burst into the scrub room, Steve immediately looking at you.

“I lied,” you said. “I’m not out of this relationship. I’m in. I’m so in, it’s humiliating because here I am, going to beg—“

“Y/N,” Steve interrupted quietly.

“Just shut up. You say Y/N and I yell, remember?”

“Yeah.” He leaned away the sink, listening.

“Okay, here it is,” you took a deep breath. “Your choice. It’s simple.” You started to get emotional. Damn it, you loved this man too much. “Her or me. And I’m sure she’s really great. But, Steve… I love you… in a really, really big, “pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window”… unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me.”

Steve was staring at you lovingly. He moved to touch you, but you pulled away.

“I’ll be at Happy’s tonight,” you continued. “So if you decide to sign the papers, meet me there.”

Then you walked out. Steve, distressed now, sighed. What was he going to do?

~~~

“Do you think he’ll show?” You asked, doing a tequila shot.

“He’ll show,” Happy said.

The door opened. You turned to the door hopefully, but it’s just Tony walking in. He came over, took off his suit coat and sat next to you at the bar.

“I got your message,” Tony said, motioning for Happy to get him a drink. “You gave him a choice, brave.” He nodded. “But he’s not stupid, though love does make you stupid sometimes. He’ll chose you.” Happy handed him a drink. “Thank you.” 

“Are you sure?” You questioned. “I… I literally told him that I loved him. I’ve… I’ve never done that before.”

“He loves you too. He’s just an idiot.”

~~~

Steve was sitting in a doctor’s lounge at the hospital, fidgeting with a pen. The divorce papers were in a manila envelope on the table in front of him. Gamora entered the room, dressed up.

“How’s your patient?” Gamora asked as she put some things away. “The one who got her soul back?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Steve responded. He looked up at took Gamora in. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you dressed up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m suppose to have a date tonight.”

“Yeah? Anyone I know?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Gamora noticed the pen in Steve’s hand and the envelope on the table. “You haven’t signed those divorce papers yet, have you?” 

Steve shook his head. “Gamora.” He looked at her, pleading. “Tell me what to do.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why does this have to be so hard?”

“It’s not hard. It’s painful, but it’s not hard. You know what to do already. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this much pain.”

“I guess you’re right.” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t keep you. Good luck on your date.”

~~~

Natasha found Bruce in the stairwell, as he went to find an on-call room.

“Hey,” Natasha stopped him, “I… So…” She sighed. “Here’s where we are. I work too much. I’m competitive. I’m always right. And I snore.” 

Bruce looked at her confused. “What?”

“I’m trying here.”

Still looking confused, Bruce took a moment to think it out. “Oh! Ohhhh…”

“Yeah.” 

“So?”

“Okay. We’re a couple. Whatever. DOn’t make a big deal about it.” 

She began walking away. Natasha quickly paused though and turned around. She hurried to Bruce, kissed him, and hurried down the stairs.

~~~

Peggy found Steve in the doctor’s lounge.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking, well, everywhere for you.”

“Well, you found me,” Steve responded.

“So?” She glanced down at the envelope. “Are you going to sign those divorce papers or not?”

~~~

You were still waiting at the bar. Tony was there, but so was Pepper. So as he flirted with her, he kept an eye on you. Val, Clint, and Scott had joined you.

“He’s not going to come,” you sighed. “You all don’t think he’s coming.”

“He might come,” Val said.

“Yeah, you never know,” Scott agreed.

“He’s definitely coming,” Clint said. Val quickly kicked him from under the bar. “Ow. What? Do you want her doing tequila shots all night? I’ll be the one cleaning up the vomit. Besides, I feel good. I touched a heart today.”

The bell on the door went off again. They all turned to look, but it wasn’t Steve. You sighed and turned back to Happy.

“Pour me another one.”

next chapter >

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[flashflashhundredyarddash]

@joanofarkansass Glad you liked my fic recs! Here are some more marvel + xmen ones:

Catch Me Through the Looking-Glass by ylixia

"It's like a recurring nightmare: Steve Rogers, trapped in a world that is not his own, new love left behind, and nothing to keep him going but questions."

This fic is one of the more popular ones for a damn good reason. A Steve Rogers just reflecting on his relationship with his own Tony AND another Steve and Tony's relationship and getting PISSED the whole time.

Conflict of Interest by NotQuiteHumanAnymore

"Tumblr prompt! alien-angel-orsentientpotato (AKA my firstborn, Cheyenne) asked "Okay so headcanon for x-men evolution. Despite Pietro and Kurt being on separate teams they have a weird understanding of each other as they are both fidgety. Pietro because everything moves so slow and Kurt because he's not used to sitting still or being in one place for long periods of time like school demands. So through this understanding they form a weird pseudo friendship thing in which they race each other, play tag, and see what pranks they can pull on each other without getting caught." And it became this 30k behemoth."

I will be real, I ship Peter/Kurt which is definitely a very rarepair lol, but this fic was very cute! It's based on the xmen evolution cartoon. Even if you don't know much about it, I'd recommend giving this fic a shot!

With a Child's Heart by Scarlet_Ribbons

"“Oh, god.” Steve whispers, sounding as horrified as Tony feels. “You’re so young. Tony, he’s so young.”

Spider-Man coughs once, a frail, baby-bird sound.

.

(They find his body in a Dumpster.)"

:((((( Vry sad but vry good

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

"“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask."

A true comedy of errors lol. Tony doesn't realize that his boyfriend Steve is Captain America.

Idiot Control Now by @cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

I got distracted and reread this while making this list. VERY funny and also very creative in how their powers could fly out of control without devolving into crack territory. I LOVE cygnaut's fic and got distracted reading a bunch get ready for some more y'all

Adventures in Babysitting by cygnaut

"When Jean, Scott, and Ororo get in trouble and have nowhere to turn, they call on the last person they probably should—Magneto."

DADNETO!! I LOVE the way cygnaut writes the Erik and Ororo relationship, if I ever write xmen fanfic assume Erik is Ororo's dad in it okay I don't make the rules anymore only cygnaut makes the rules.

Blessed is the Match Consumed by cygnaut

""This isn't a concentration camp," Delta says, calm, like he's been rehearsing it. Erik looks at the gun on his hip, the guards behind him in the corridor, the bars between them.

He smiles with a lot of teeth. "I think I'd know that better than you."

AU in which the beach divorce didn't happen and Erik decides to stay and help Charles start his school. But despite their clean break, the government isn't ready to let the mutants disappear into hiding."

A brutal and really well-written fic.

Plausible Deniability by DragonBandit

"Kurt and Peter travel across mutant America to recruit for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Kurt has a crush. Peter is oblivious."

Another nightsilver fic that I really like!

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes

"Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

"When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center."

Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself."

SARA HOLMES WINTERHAWK QUEEN

Way Down We Go by @clarkestetler and @goosenik

"After being attacked and forcibly separated from Eddie Brock, Venom bonds to Peter Parker in order to seek both revenge on the LIFE Foundation and any evidence of his previous host. Peter Parker isn't exactly thrilled about this turn of events and turns to the Avengers for help managing his new symbiote."

I've recently fallen into the Peter/Harry ship and this fic quickly became one of my favorites! Very domestic and sweet but also scary and also Peter having a relatively realistic reaction to suddenly being possessed by an alien tickled me.

Turning Tables by @iamallyetnotatall

"Thanos knows if he leaves Tony Stark alive, that Earth's mightiest defender will find a way to undo all of his hard work.

So when he snaps and wipes away half the universe, he ensures that Tony Stark is one of those that fade to nothing.

I.E - a what-if series of ficlets where Tony is dusted and Peter isn't. HAPPY ENDING GUARANTEED"

Very Good. Pepper and Peter and Morgan family bonding is great.

I Don't Want To Keep A Secret by DOA

"As their senior year begins, Peter Parker and Harry Osborn have a lot to figure out on their own.

Peter has his hands full with his Aunt dating again, college, potential romance, and being superhero with a secret identity that may be more trouble than it's worth. Then Harry, with a troubling father, an uncertain future, possibly unrequited love, a family secret, and an ugly green monster that he has no control over.

But what happens if their separate problems are more related than they think?"

A very cute and plotty Parksborn fic set in the Marvel's Spider-Man universe. It does have first person POV and has been incomplete for over a year which :( but I did enjoy what I read!

There you have it! Half of these fics are kind of Really Popular fics (which are popular for good reason) and fics that just happen to really personally appeal to me lmao

[anxiousstark]

All that’s left

KO-FI | BIG MASTERLIST | 

I normally only read related to Chris Evans and his characters, but here we are.

Word count: 1909

Warnings: Mentions of  injuries, blood, swearing (always), death, etc.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

All the things you went through could not be compared to the last battle of your life, the one where to save an entire world, numerous people you deeply loved had gradually lost theirs.

It was a terrifying feeling, observing the bright light in their eyes fade away while their eyelids drooped until there was no more energy to keep them open. The guttural voices were stuck in your head as their mouths opened and closed several times. The way they attempted to swallow, believing that the action would let them say their last words. Some got to announce their latest wishes or goodbyes, others weren't so fortunate, gagging on their blood.

Everyone knew that this last war would bring grief, guilt and trauma. And even though everyone knew that some people would inevitably be left behind, they also deeply hoped for them to survive. But perhaps, it was too much to ask for the universe or whoever was up there.

Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow. She was probably one of those people you couldn't help but end up loving like an older sister. She tried to maintain that witty, cold facade to avoid people from deceiving her. Nevertheless, you always thought that she didn't need to maintain an image. Everyone knew how great Natasha Romanoff was.

Deep inside, every one of the Avengers knew that they would lose her. Nat had been a woman with a tough childhood and life. She was someone who believed and claimed not to have a family. Of course, all of this, before she became part of the Avengers. A group of people who would have given their lives for her. However, she was the one who gave up her life.

You sometimes glimpsed at Clint when he was in the compound, staring at the space Nathasa always preferred. It was her seat, her place. An empty one.

You had cried. You had mourned when Clint had come back, swearing he had tried to save her. You knew he had. Everyone knew. But they also knew how Natasha's mind worked. They knew she would sacrifice herself for Clint, one of the closest Avengers to her, and the one who had a wife and children waiting at home.

Notwithstanding, there was a big pain in your heart. You hoped that she felt loved, that she knew that every one of the Avengers had lost a piece of soul and brightness as soon as they understood she was never coming back.

That night, it was Steve Rogers who held you tightly even if his heart was as broken as yours, or even more. His fingers had intertwined with the locks of your hair as he shushed you while his body rocked your own one. If only that was the only sadness you would have to go through.

Not long after Natasha passed away, Tony Stark had sacrificed his life for those he loved. At that time, everything was over. The war with Thanos was over. But, another war invaded everyone. The internal war of dealing with the death of Tony Stark.

How unfair, right? The joker, the one who always tried his best to cheer others up even if it was with sarcastic comments. The one who seemed the brightest was leaving certain darkness in everyone's hearts.

You never expected to see Tony sitting down against ruins as he tried to say his last words to the woman of his life. God, Morgan was just a child and she was back home, of course. Pepper would have to tell the little girl that her dad wouldn't be coming back. Ever.

Tony fought, he fought to stay in this world for a couple of minutes more. He had expressed his everlasting love to Pepper, telling her to remind Morgan of how much he loved her and how she was his salvation. Tony had hugged Peter, repeating over and over again that he believed in him. He was proud of the teenager. Parker would just cry while nodding his head. And then, Tony peeped at you. He wanted to offer you a smile, but the pain was too much for that. The Tony Stark legacy was yours too, and he had pleaded for you to teach Morgan everything you knew. Everything he had taught you.

And as soon as the last flick of life left his eyes, everyone was kneeling on the ground. Steve was beside you, clutching your hand tightly as you sobbed.

Tony Stark was the one who rescued you a couple of years ago. You were someone lost in life. Too young to have all of those horrible thoughts invading your mind. He had just decided to take you in and show you all the potential you had. That's when you started working alongside Tony and Bruce, after learning everything from them.

Before his funeral, you sat next to Pepper and Morgan as Tony had prepared a hologram. You had chuckled because Tony had to leave in a big way.

He looked so real. He looked as if he was sitting down on that chair. And sometimes, it seemed like he could actually look at all of you. Of course, all of this was just what it looked like.

"Then again, that's the hero gig, right?" His eyes seemed to shift from Pepper to you. "Part of the journey is the end." You felt Morgan getting closer to your body. "What am I even tripping for?" Your hand softly rested on her back as Tony got up from his seat. "Everything is gonna work out," He was standing in front of the three of you. "Exactly like it's supposed to." His eyes seemed to find the ones of the little girl. "I love you 3,000." Then, he just vanished, once again.

The day of the funeral was horrible, everyone cried because Tony Stark was deeply loved. Because everything that happened was proof that Tony Stark had a heart.

However, if we talked about the present, your heart ached as much as your legs. Your heart throbbed because Steve had left a letter on your door, letting you know that he was going to return the stones to the same moment where he got them. Steve was leaving. Perhaps not to come back.

And your legs ached because you were running to the only place where you knew he could be right now. In the distance, you could recognise Bruce, Sam and Bucky. The Captain was getting on the platform, his suit changing from the usual one to red and white. "Steve!" You continued running, not thinking you will arrive on time. Steve made a gesture, begging Bruce to continue with the process. "Steve! Please!" Tears started running down your cheeks.

"Going Quantum," Bruce informed. "Three,"

"Steve, I swear to god I will kill you!" You tried to run faster, but your legs gave up as you fell to the ground. "Steve Rogers, I swear to god!" You screamed once again, getting up and ignoring the mud stuck to your cheeks due to your tears.

"Two..." Sam and Bucky looked between the both of you. The Falcon was pained to see you in that situation as much as Bucky. Both of them were your friends. And both of them had noticed the longing gazes you directed towards their other friend.

"STEVE!" You were now closer to Bruce, quickly stopping the machine. "Don't you dare to turn it on." Your finger accusingly pointed at Banner, who nodded, a little frightened of how angry you were.

"Y/N," A firm voice sounded. "I need to get back and put these stones where they bel-."

"Who are you trying to lie to?" Your voice cracked. "You are going back to the past and you will not return." You shook your head. "And that's not fair on Sam because he had started to like you and he considers you his friend now, right?" I glanced at Sam, who bit his lower lip and nodded. "That's not fair on Bucky! He has always been there for you and you are just going to leave him? You can't just leave him, Steve!" Bucky sighed, glancing at the floor. "We just lost a lot of people we profoundly loved. It is unfair that you make us go through that once again because-."

"Breathe." He interrupted me. "This isn't my place anymore."

You yelled, trying to get rid of some of the anger invading your body. "You, Steve Rogers, are the biggest liar ever!" He furrowed his eyebrows, sighing and letting you go on. "You gotta move on," You repeated those words. The words he had told a group of people who were trying to get through the losses of the blip. "You gotta move on. The world is in our hands. It's left to us, guys. And we gotta do something with it." You were now sobbing harder. "O-otherwise..."

"I'm sorry," He whispered. "But, this life is no longer for me, Y/N." He glanced at Bruce, then back at you. "I wish I didn't have to do this."

"Nothing is making you go back!" You cried. "You can return the stones then come back to us and-." You gasped. "Steve, I know I'm selfish for saying this but please, don't go back to her-."

"Y/N," His voice was firmer this time. "I have nothing to do here, okay? Believe me. Yes, I will have to leave you all, but that's a price I must pay. You knew I always felt like this was not my world. Everything was always too strange for me." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I love you all. Especially, you. I love you. But I'm not the one you deserve." Tears fell down his cheeks. "Take care."

Before you could say anything more, he disappeared. You glanced at Bruce, glaring at him for listening to Steve and then, you got on the platform, screaming with all your strength. "That's for me to decide, Steve Rogers! That's for me to decide!" You recovered as soon as possible, running towards Bruce after noticing that Steve wasn't back yet. "Bring him! Bring him back!" Bucky walked closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as you continued crying. "How long until he comes back?"

Sam glanced at the other two men, sighing. "He isn't coming back." He coughed. His voice cracking. "Steve isn't coming back."

"He believes he isn't apt for this world." Before you could answer, Bucky interrupted you. "I know, it sounds stupid. But he truly felt like that." He shuffled closer to you. "He didn't go back to Peggy. Believe me."

"Then why?"

"Because he believed he wasn't enough for you." Sam stepped forward. "We tried to let him know that he was. But he said that he was never able to be there for you as much as he wanted to." He was always there. "He went back to safety. To the world, he knew. A world without," He glanced around. "All of this."

"A world without me." There was no reason to justify his actions, even if you wanted to. "So... this is all that's left."

"Not all." Bucky placed a tiny box on your hand. "He would probably kill me if he knew I gave you this. But I think you deserve to know. You deserve to...just...open it."

A ring. There was a ring with both of your names. A wedding ring.

[angelisverba]

closer

in which y/n wants to be closer to her savior, mafialeader!h, and harry has never felt such intimacy

word count:  5.7k

pairing: y/n and mafialeader!h

warnings: descriptions of an abusive relationship, mentions of abuse, drugs, violence, and sex.

author’s note: you can all thank @floral-suits for this. (and yes, I did describe tattoo roulette harry :))

Y/n wasn’t exactly a virgin when she first met Harry, but she also hadn’t been exposed to the extreme pleasures a woman could experience at the hands of a man who cared. Cared enough to devote attention to the needs and wants of her body rather than just using her for his own pleasure.

Harry more or less rescued her from a toxic relationship for a lower-scale drug dealer (who was working for Harry at the time) and who never told her what he did for a living. Their entire relationship was built off of lies, and  and power. Maxwell-- that was the scumbag’s name-- would always use strength to get his way, and it was getting to the point where he would  use his physical advantage in the bedroom. Y/n was in a position where she was physically and mentally weak, and Harry caught note of that when he met her for the first time.

“This is my girlfriend, boss,” Maxwell had gripped her bicep and squeezed painfully as he shoved her forward to a confused Harry. He wasn’t quite sure why Maxwell was handling a woman in such aggressive ways, and why she looked  so...scared.

He’d caught a whiff of what was going on the moment she flinched at the word ‘girlfriend’ and played as smoothly as possible to not make the situation worse for her once he left. But he knew when they made eye contact, and her eyes were slightly glazed over in fear, that she was calling out for help. “Lovely to meet you, what’s your name?” He said, voice notably softer than what he usually spoke.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Maxwell said, “Her name’s y/n. And she can leave now so she’s not bothering us.” 

An uncharacteristic flicker of protectiveness flamed inside of him, and his face turned a stone-y reserve. “Tony. Paul.” The two men standing in the back of their small living room apartment stepped forward with arms crossed. They were easily three times y/n’s weight, with biceps the size of her head to vouch for it. “Take Maxwell outside and keep him out there until I call for him.”

Y/n didn’t have it in her to straighten or worry about what would happen to her then-boyfriend or where they would take her, but he did. Maxwell gulped and furrowed his eyebrows, a ‘what the fuck?’ expression taking over his face. What he didn’t have in him, though, was the ability to fight back against the all-mighty Harry Styles. He was only left to wonder what the kingpin could want with his girlfriend. Something that not even he knew clearly, only that there was something very, very wrong going on between his employee and this girl, and he couldn't stand the endangerment of women (it was one of the reasons why be spent millions of dollars buying sex-trafficked women whenever he could, and sending them to all-expenses paid facility for they would be checked and rehabilitated if they needed it.)

“Now, love,” he started, voice tender and body language comforting. He’d retreated to their loveseat, patting the seat next to him with a warm smile on his face, two dimples showing. He knew that was what she needed. A friendly, comforting face. He knew because he was sued to reading people to get what he wanted, or to catch them off-guard and do a large number on them. “What’s your name?” 

Timidly, y/n walked over to his side and sat, a shaky breath leaving her before she mumbled, “Y/n.” 

“What was that? You said?” Harry wanted so badly to reach out and caress her shoulder, but he knew it was better if she opened up on her own terms. The girl was cowering from him and he hadn’t done anything to her. It seemed as if she’d grown a fear for all men. Not just Maxwell.

“Y/n, yes. I’m sorry for mumbling. Maxwell says I shouldn't mumble...I’m sorry.” She plays with her fingers in her lap, the cuticle of her right thumb an angry red color on the verge of bleeding. 

“It’s alright. Maxwell isn’t here right now, so you can do what you’d like.” Harry stated, chin in his palm as he observed her. She was (is) really pretty, with pouty lips and lashes that were wet with stressed-out tears. Distressed, but breathtakingly beautiful.

“But Maxwell will-” she stopped then, sure that what followed isn’t exactly something you tell your boyfriend's boss. Too much detail. 

“Go on, you can finish your sentence.” He brought his hands down away from his mouth to clasp them at his lap, and that’s when she looked up to fully look at him. 

His hair was shoulder length at the time, thick and rogue chocolate curls that framed his face and made him look even more so manly if that was even possible. It swirled at the top of his head, and fell to the right in fluffy swoops. He’d been wearing fitting, black slacks and a baby blue shirt what was open all the way to the start of his strong abdominal muscles, where y/n could see the tips of butterfly wings peeking out. Two swallows decorated the area underneath his collarbones, a silver cross necklace swinging gently between his pectoral muscles. Y/n remembers thinking-- even though her broken train of thought- that the blank ink looked so good against his tanned skin. 

“No, uhm, I’m not sure I should.” Her eyes dropped from him to the armrest, where a black suit jacket rested. It was Harry’s. “Maxwell wouldn’t like it.

“Do you always listen to what Maxwell says?” Harry questioned, his word choice careful. He never had to speak to any of the women he rescued, so these were uncharted waters for him. He figured he better be very light on the accusations if he didn’t want her to get defensive.

“Y-yes, he’s my boyfriend. Actually, do you think you could bring him back into the room? I’m not sure he’ll like me being alone with you more than needed.” He’ll call me so many nasty names once you leave.

“Is that what you want y/n?”

“I-” She hadn’t been asked what she would like in so long, her opinion bypassed and unimportant. The fact that this man in close relation to her boyfriend hadn’t also belittled her like his other friends had was...well, it was enough to make her start crying. 

She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what there could be to want. What there was past Maxwell, or what there would be with Maxwell. It was all a mess in her brain that hadn’t been used in so long. ‘Don’t wear that it makes you look ugly’ ‘She’ll have water’ ‘Doctor could she have the shot instead of pills?’

Harry knew his suspicions were correct when the first tear slipped past her eyelashes to taint her cheek. Only, he wasn’t sure where to go from there. He wasn’t sure if to touch her, or to give her space. He was fucking lost. 

So he got up, went to their kitchen and reached for a glass that was in the drying rack. The soles of his boots hitting the wooden floor of Maxwell’s kitchen was the only thing heard along with y/n’s sniffles. Pressing the glass into the slot for water in the fridge, he cursed under his breath. What the fuck is he supposed to do? 

He was out of time when he sat next to her and offered her the glass like an idiot saying, “I don’t want you to get dehydrated, love. Have some water and take a few deep breaths, alright? I wont hurt you.” 

And he hadn’t. Harry was true to his word all through their relationship. Never once did he lay a hand on her when she didn’t want it, or harm her emotionally, mentally. Not from a negative mindset.

Y/n told him everything. To a certain extent. It was as if a corkscrew had been twisted into the bottle of her emotions and unplugged open with his intimate questions. 

“Be honest with me y/n, does he hurt you?”

“Does he insult you?”

“Does he hit you?”

“Do you want to be here, right now, with him?”

“If you’re honest with me, if you really want it, I can take you away. I can help you build a new life, away from him. He won’t hurt you anymore.” Harry was holding her hands in his at this point, knees pointed towards her and shoulder slumped as he tried to get close to her. He could see he was doing good, she was holding eye contact for more than a second now.

“You can do that?” Her eyes widened, and her heart caught in her throat when he started to rub small, soothing circles into the juncture of her thumb and pointer finger.

Harry nodded, licking his lips,“of course I can. All you have to do is say the word. You can leave today. Right now. This instant. You just have to say it.”

“Okay.” She whispered, biting into her bottom from the nerves. Was she really going to leave Maxwell? Right now? With this man she’s never met? And although her gut and his words are telling her she can trust him, he could be anyone. He could do all sorts of things to her, but he looks, sounded, and felt sincere. 

Anything was better than the prison that was Maxwell.

“Okay what, y/n?” Harry needed to know that she was fully on board. Verbal confirmation. 

“I want to leave Maxwell. Today. Right now.” She was breathless when the words left her. And Harry was nodding with a proud smile on his face. 

He barely knew this girl, but he could feel the way his heart was chipping away by her hands, plunging the pieces into her chest and taking out a matching piece of her own heart to fill the empty spot.

“Okay. If there’s anything you’d like to take with you before we leave you should take them with you now.” Harry stood, and grabbed the suit jacket on the couch next to him, lifting his arm in the air to put it on.

“No, there’s nothing I’d like to take. Maxwell picked everything. I don’t want it.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, preparing for what’s to come.

“Would you like to say anything to him or would you like me to do the talking?” He was still adjusting the suit, popping the collar and lifting his shoulders so everything settled nicely. He ran a hand through his hair, and shook it out. It was cute, y/n thought.

“No. I don’t want to speak to him. I’ve got nothing to say to him.” She shrugged. 

“Very well. Let’s go.” He started walking towards the door, and when he sensed that something was wrong he turned to see that she was still seated on the couch, her lower lip trembling in a way that had become so familiar to him in the few moments they’d known each other. She was scared. “There’s no need to worry, love, my men will assure that he doesn’t lay a hand on you. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.” He sent her a comforting smile, and stretched out his hand for support, hoping that she’d grab onto it. 

She did.

They walked out together, not even bothering to close the door behind them. Out in the slim hallway, Tony and Paul had Maxwell up against the wall, one standing on either side of him. When he saw that y/n and Harry were holding hands, he stood up in a frenzy, and Harry lifted a hand as a signal for him to still his motions.

He did.

“Maxwell, I’m not sorry to inform you that I will no longer be requiring your services. Tony will come by at the end of the month to pick up all the money owed as well as what you still have to dispense.” Maxwell opened his mouth to protest, and Harry raised his hand again, voice rising momentarily to speak over whatever it was he was going to say. “In addition, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t deserve a woman like y/n. Never seek her out again, or there will be consequences. Understood?”

Harry didn’t wait for a response, and Maxwell didn’t give one because his throat had gone dry. You don’t fuck with Harry Edward Styles. 

“Paul, please ensure that Maxwell makes it into his apartment and doesn’t try to follow us. Tony, you come with us.”

“You got it, Harry.” Paul spoke, clapping a hand on Maxwell’s shoulder and shoving him into the apartment. 

Harry, still holding her hand, y/n, still holding his hand, and Tony, knowing very well what would come out of this, walked out of the shitty apartment complex and into a blacked-out car. Inside, y/n questioned Harry a bit more about where she would go, if he would leave her, and how he could be so sure that Maxwell would stay away. It hadn’t clicked in her brain yet what her ex-boyfriend’s job was because she’d been so caught up in getting through that moment. If she had been paying attention, she’s sure she would have blushed at Harry coming to her defense.

Harry assured her that she was safe, and told her why.

“I am a drug dealer, sweetheart. The biggest one here in London. People know not to fuck with me. As long as you’re under my care, you’re safe as can be. And I told you in there that I would take care of you. I’m a man of my word.” He turned to face her, “You’ll be safe. I promise you that.” 

From there, Harry took her to his house-- the kind with gates and men with ear pieces-- and told her to make herself at home. He had a few things to attend to before they could go a step further in their plan. 

Strangely, the news of him being a drug dealer didn’t affect her as much as it should’ve a normal person. 

The first thing she did was eat. She was starving, and Harry just so happened to have the best cooks in his home. Plate upon plate upon plate. She ate until she plopped down on his couch, fell asleep, and woke up to him taking her up to a guest room. 

She nodded off again in his arms, and he’d pressed a sweet kiss on her forehead when he set her down. 

After buying her clothes-- really fucking expensive ones-- Harry sat her down to talk to her about a rehabilitation center. One up in the mountains in Switzerland, where she’d be at peace with the company of sheep and silence. There were therapists on the site, ones she’d meet with everyday to talk through her trauma. 

And the cold would encourage the bodily need to stay warm. To huddle close...together. The both of them.

And y/n agreed. With one condition.

“Would you be able to take me there?” She had asked meekly, fiddling with the threads of her brand new, 5,000 euro sweater. 

“Of course. I’ll walk you through those doors myself and see that you’re comfortable if that’s what you’d like.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, pulling her hands away from the sweater and engulfing them in his large one. Y/n started at their union, and noticed he had a cross tattoo on his hand. 

She thought this was funny, and laughed once through her nose. Tilting her head upwards so she might remark on it, she was frozen in the spot at the intense gaze that met her. 

Vibrant, emerald green eyes saw her. They saw her. As a person. As a soul. As a woman. There was repressed hunger in them, and the added longing sprinkled static into their moment; intensity levels so high, y/n could only breathe out, “I’d like that.”

She’d like so many other things but she wasn’t sure the time was right.

*             

                      *                                   *

“Harry! It’s beautiful up here!” She was giggly with happiness. 

Y/n hadn’t giggled in so long. She hadn’t been this happy so long.

On their plane ride to Switzerland, y/n had been too anxious to sleep, and Harry was more than willing to stay over and have a conversation with her. 

He found that she was even more enchanting that he thought, telling innocent, forgiving stories of going to the petting zoo on a rainy day or how her friends broke her nose because they smashed it into a still-frozen ice-cream birthday cake. He found that he loved the way she’d blush when he brushed a hair away from her face. He found that he loved the way she would lean into his touch. 

Y/n found that she really wanted Harry to kiss her. That she loved the way he spoke, in a slow, deep drawl like he was hand picking every word that came out of his mouth the moment before he had to speak. That she loved the way he looked at her, like she was important and interesting. That she loved when he would brush away a strand of hair from her face, or the warmth of his thigh pressed against hers. 

Through a mix of knowingly and unknowingly, she let her walls down. She let him in, and she wanted him to want to be let in. It was absolutely crazy, the way she felt about him considering what she just escaped. Her brain was full of images that hadn’t been there in forever, illicit and heavy with him.

“Right? ‘M jealous of you. Wish I could stay up here, too.” He wished he could stay up here with her. With her company, getting to know her mind, body, and soul. He yearned for her and it’d been less than two weeks. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” y/n mumbled to herself. She was a few steps ahead of Harry, standing at the front of the car and looking out into the place where the sheep roamed while he shut the door behind him. 

“Come on, let’s go inside and get you settled.” 

A woman greeted them at the door of the home-- although it was just shy of a mansion label-- that was a wood and brick mixture in structure. Several chimneys poked out of the roof, with smoke coming out of all of them.

The woman’s name was Matilda, she was a groundskeeper and had moved there shortly after her husband died when she was 40. She took Harry and y/n up to her room that faced the center of an indoor greenhouse in the middle of the house, and left them there for her to unpack after Harry said that he’d show y/n around himself. 

He owned it after all, and had overseen it’s construction. He’d even helped with the births of some of the sheep.

“How long will I be staying here?” she asked him, looking over her shoulder as she placed a hanger in the closet. 

“‘S long as you need, love.” He was taking things out of her suitcase, placing them on the bed for her to relocate. “Days, weeks, months, years. ‘S long as you need.” 

“Really?” She squeaked, returning to the edge of the bed and picking up the neck item. A cream colored silk shirt that had a black ribbon around the neck.

“Mhm.” Harry picked up a blush tinted pair of trousers.

“And where will you be?”

Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. It hadn’t occurred to him that she may rely on him for comfort, and it made him feel strangely warm inside when her tone of voice changed to an uninterested interest. 

After his short, stunned silence, she mumbled again, “will you stay? At least for a few days?” 

Harry cleared his throat. He was sure that if any of his men were to see him then, he’d lose all sense of authority, “Sure. I’d love to.” He was suddenly unsure of everything he used to be sure about. His reign, his title. It all left him when he was with her.

She whispered, “Thank you, Harry. For everything.” Y/n was clutching a shirt to her chest, eyes welling up with tears of gratuity.

At this, Harry felt his heart clench in his chest, stealing his breath at the sight of her. “C’mere, love.” His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them. His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them.

Eyes shut, she pressed into the juncture of his throat, and held her breath, tensing at the strong, male contact, she could feel ever flex of his arms as she wrapped them around her frame, ever rise and fall of his chest, and the fleeting brush of their thighs. 

He ducked his head down to his mouth was pressed against the crown of her head and whispered, “y’don’t have to be scared anymore, y/n. You’re safe. I’ll never hurt you.”

She moved her head so she was looking up at him, and suddenly became aware of how close they were, the tips of their nose a hair away from each other. “I know. I know.” She tried to tell him. Tried to tell him with her eyes, looking down at his lips and then to his burning eyes. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me.

He knew immediately what she wanted, could see it in the gleam of her eyes. “S’this okay, love. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. More than okay. And it’s because of you. Will you kiss me?” Her eyes were nearly shut with their dreamy haze. She felt happy, content, light, free. Because of him. Because of Harry. And she knew she was in full control here. It wasn’t because she felt she owed him anything. Y/n knew there was a connection between then, she could feel it every time he looked at her.

She knew because she looked at him the same way too. 

With no response, Harry moved the final inch to her mouth, and reached the stars. Her lips were softer than they looked as they molded to follow his every movement. Languid and submissive and warm and her. And good God the noises their mouths made together. Quiet, suckling noises with every near-disconnection as they opened up to each other, y/n being the first to flick at his bottom lip with her sweet tongue. 

“Baby, we have to stop or this is gonna get really fucking heated,” He murmured against her lips, his words with an intention to stop their actions, but the way her leaned into so they were closer to each other, they way his hands came up to her face to pull her closer to him, they way he didn’t bother to pause their kiss to speak, said otherwise. The front of his pants was embarrassingly tight, and a tension in his groin had begun to build, cock pulsing.

Y/n responded with the same vigor, her hands coming to clutch at the curls that brushed his shoulders before combing through his scalp and grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, “Please. Want it.”

Harry stopped then, opening his eyes and pulling her back to fully look at her face. Her lips were slick with spit and slightly swollen with a darker tint. “Y/n. Are you sure about this?” 

Y/n shook her head so fast she could hear the ticking noise of her brain moving in the back of her head. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. She was ready. She wanted what Harry had already begun to give her. “Yes. Please. Please. Haven’t felt this good in so long, I need it.”

A slow smile spread on Harry’s heart shaped lips, voice low and gravelly. “Pretty girl. Need me to make love to you? Make you feel good? S’what you need?” His thumb traced circled underneath her wild, bleary eyes, and he held back a grunt when she whimpered out her response, need heavy and abundant in her voice.

“Will you say I’m yours, Harry? I’d like to be yours. Will you have me?” She was babbling, lost in her senseless need, but her words held truth. She wanted him, and she wanted him to want her. 

Harry cooed at her, his heart full, “I’ll take you, my love. I’ll take you only if you’ll take me.” 

“Please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for anymore, all she could feel was the warmth of Harry’s body against hers. “I want you. I’ll take you. Hold me?” 

“So polite. C’mere. ‘Gonna take you nice and slow, baby. Like you deserve,” his hands traveled to her waist, and he kept his grip tight as he walked them towards the bed, the back of her knees hitting first before she was lowered gently by Harry. His hold on her was ever-present as he saw her through, his lips placing open mouthed kissed underneath her jaw.

Y/n tilted her head back to grant him access to her throat, and soft, wet gasps left her mouth at the spikes of energy that went from his mouth, to her skin, and down to her pussy. Electrifying. Deadly. 

“Gonna take this off, my love.” Harry’s hands tugged at the ends of her light blouse, and y/n nodded instantly, raising her hands above her head to help him get it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the moment her breasts were exposed and Harry’s eyes fell on them, she bucked upwards, needing his touch, needing her damn pants off. “Easy, baby. I’ve got you, okay? Hey, look at me.” 

Harry pinched her chin and shook her slightly to get her to open her eyes and look at him. She did, eyes wide and wild. “Need you to use your words in the bedroom, y/n. I want you on board with what I’m doing the entire time and I need to hear your voice in order to know that you’re with me. Got it?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He was still holding onto her chin, and her lips were slightly puckered as she spoke. 

Harry shook his head, an awed smile on his cherry lips, “nuh-uh. None of that. You did nothing wrong. No more ‘I’m sorry’s. We’re here to love on each other, not to say sorry. We’ve done nothing wrong to each other. Now tell me something you’d like for me to do.”

“Need my pants off, please.” She mewled and bucked again, eyes shutting and head thrown back.

“So fuckin’ polite. A little gem you are.” Harry said to himself as he unbuttoned her pants, and patted her thigh so she could lift her hips.

He couldn't believe that someone had let her slip from his fingers. She was a goddamn wonder.

After he’d tugged her pants off her ankles, he leaned back into kiss her, hands on either side of her face and head with his hair trailing down on the side of his face, but she pushed him back with a pout on her lips. “Take your clothes off, too.” 

Harry laughed, “so demanding.” And leaned back on his knees to take his shirt off, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his soft cream shirt so his silver cross necklace came free, swinging at his chest with the momentum. 

Y/n marveled at the tattoos that decorated him, wondering if he could get any sexier than this, and upon seeing him unbutton his pants. She decided that yes, he could.

A thick bulge at the apex of his thigh strained against his black boxers, begging to spring up against his abdomen.

“You can say no, right now, and we’ll stop.” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand up her thigh and thumbing at the seams of her cotton panties. His voice was strained and filled with the same urgency that fueled her. 

She shook her head, “no. I want this.” Y/n thrust her hips up against his hands, and Harry took that as a signal to take her panties off. 

“Good.” He said, ripping away at her panties and surging forward for a heavy kiss, “‘cause I do, too, baby.” 

“Make love to me, Harry,” she begged, her hands coming to feel at the strong muscles of his back, digging into where they dipped and this caused him to groan both at the feeling and at her words. 

Swiftly, he took of his boxers, and his cock sprang free, an audible slapping sound heard when the swollen tip hit the skin underneath his belly button, and a hiss leaving him at the sudden, momentarily relief.

She looked down between them, and bucked again at the size and thickness of him, already yearning for the feeling of him inside her, stretching her. Her warm, slick, hole caught the tip of his cock, and she moaned at the contact. “Please. Please.”

Cursing under his breath, Harry took hold of himself and pressed into her, a slow heat beginning to encompass him and the intense pleasure coaxing him to continue, but a pained whimper stilling his movements.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He panted, searching y/n’s eyes for meaning. She shook her head, her hands coming up to brush his hair back. 

“Want you closer to me,” She whimpered, eyes watery. Her pert nipples brushed against Harry’s dewy chest, her hands traveled down his back again. 

“Closer, baby? Want me to hold you? Is that it?” His brows furrowed, and he let go of his dick so he could rub at her sides.

She nodded, “Yes, please.” 

She arched again, enough so Harry could sneak his arm around her back and hold her snug against his check, his silver necklace biting into their skin as it was squashed between them. His other arm was above her head, holding himself up so his weight wouldn’t smother her. 

Her legs came to sneak around his waist, and the movement titled her hips up the remaining inches of Harry’s dick, filling and stretching her to the brim. Moaning and bucking up as best she could, her nails dug into his back, urgently. Ardently

“Fuck me. So good, baby. You’re so good.” Harry pulled his hips back and thrusted, the both of them panting at the sensation of being warm, and tight, and full, and fucking hell love.

“More. Harry more, please.” Her words were hot at his ear, and her head fell back against the pillow when he listened, thrusting again and again and again into her. His fingers dug into her back, and scrunched the fabric of the sheets, veins seeping through his skin from the strain. 

“Keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last, my love. Need this to last,” The space between their chests grew damp, and y/n was in a frenzy as her orgasm built in her tummy. The pressure rising to a bubbly froth at the brim, one soda-can shake away from an explosion. 

“I can’t. Can’t. Y-you feel so good,” She swallowed a thick gulp, and let out a strained moan, the feeling of being unable to close so painfully euphoric. Harry was hitting all the right places and all the right times. And it felt so good to be warm and held, his arms a constant restraint on her, not letting her go even though a burn was developing on the arm that was holding her up. He wouldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t because she asked him to, and because he wanted to. 

Harry hadn’t felt the importance of such an embrace until then. It was affecting him just as much as it was fulfilling her. Every place their skin touched, he felt, ever moan and shudder, he heard. Ever gasp, every whisper. And never had it felt so good to give someone what they wanted before. Even if it was just as simple as being held. His heart was going to explode. He was going to die. 

“Baby. My love, oh sweetheart you’re amazing. God, I’m gonna cum, my darling. Does it feel as good for you as it feel for me? Hmm? Got me unraveling at the goddamn seams, fuck!”

He dipped his head into her throat and licked her, savagely searching for the taste of her skin as his back curved with the force of his hips. 

“I’m there. I’m there, please, lemme, lemme, please-,”

“Let go, my love. I’ve got you.” He kissed her roughly, and held himself snug at her core for longer periods of times every time he thrusted, moving his hips in a circle. He was so close, that y/n could feel his movements on her clit, her sensitive swollen button being stimulated throwing her over the edge, giving her the last little shove that she needed. 

She arched into him, mind going blank and mouth going slack against his, no longer kissing back because of the intensity of her pleasure, but Harry continues licking ito her, his tongue sliding against her and teeth nipping at her bottom lip before he snapped back into his senses and pulled out to release hot, white spurts all over his and her abdomen. His face scrunched up into one of seeming pain, his lips mouthing fuck fuck fuck but no sound coming out. 

There was no need, but y/n reached down and gripped him, sliding her hand up and down his cock to ride him through his orgasm, milking the remaining cum from his dick so it spurted onto her tits.

“Fuck me. Baby, you’re perfect.” Harry laid her back down and kissed all over her face slowly. On her cheek, her brow bone, her nose, her forehead, and finally her lips. “So sweet, so good. You undid me, darling.”

She was quiet, but leaned up into his touch, her body still buzzing. Y/n was too tired to speak, her eyes heavy with the fatigue that usually came in a light dose after she got herself off. Her entire body felt spent.

“Tired, baby? Time for a little nap?” He brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed her again, a plushy pec tenderly placed. 

Y/n nodded, and whined when she felt his weight shifting on the bed.

“What is it?” He said, stopping and turning to look at her.

She breathed a quiet, “stay.”

“M’not going anywhere, y/n. ‘Specially not after this. Gonna go get a washcloth to clean up my mess. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

There was the warmth in her chest, the warmth of his cum drying on her skin, the warmth of the soft towel ridding her of his mess, and the warmth of his arms around her as she fell asleep.

[avengershumanresources]

blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+

7- a king

Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.  

Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant. 

Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles. 

But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term. 

A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule. 

It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started. 

It had made him sick. 

That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.

Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations. 

And Asgard. 

That was a whole other bag of complications. 

Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users. 

Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had. 

Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.

Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow. 

The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after. 

From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two. 

Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history. 

It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.

Except for one small caveat.

You. 

You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power. 

It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide. 

The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions. 

Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs. 

Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth. 

Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart. 

The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives. 

The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife. 

“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.

“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.  

The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future. 

“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained. 

“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?” 

“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.” 

“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively. 

“Who?” 

“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”

“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”

“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”

“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.

The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs. 

But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter. 

Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news. 

He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss. 

Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do. 

Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.

He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side. 

Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be. 

Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met. 

The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception. 

“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer. 

“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.

(—)

“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand. 

“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”

You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground. 

“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand. 

“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you. 

“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.

“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”

“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”

“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse. 

“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”

“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”

“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”

“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”

“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he  continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”

“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled. 

“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”

He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body. 

“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.

“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move. 

“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”

“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features. 

“What do you see?” 

“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”

“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”

It all happened very quickly after that. 

You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined. 

Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips. 

“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way. 

That seemed to set something off in him. 

He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation. 

“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him. 

He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release. 

“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.  

Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you. 

“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful. 

Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you. 

“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.

Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment. 

He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible. 

You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged. 

It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was. 

This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it. 

Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer. 

A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you. 

At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once? 

While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.

You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath. 

“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?” 

It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized. 

You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”

He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff. 

“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”

“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed. 

“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”

“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed. 

“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”

“Your princess?” 

“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”

You considered it briefly. Had it? 

No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time. 

There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side. 

The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted. 

“Would you have asked my father?” you asked. 

“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.” 

“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man. 

“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter. 

Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed. 

Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.

(—)

Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan. 

When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-

“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously. 

“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside. 

“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water. 

Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in. 

“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh. 

(—)

8- a secret

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[maxwell-grant]

What’s the difference between a pulp hero and a super hero?

There is a common sentiment when discussing pulp heroes, when compared to superheroes, that positions the two as if they were separate by entire eras, with pulp heroes being as distinct from the superheroes as the dinosaurs are to mankind. But then again, the dinosaurs never really went away, did they? 

Oh sure, they endured a great extinction, they downsized and ceded their thrones to the tiny little rats that scurried in their shadow, who then grew to become just as big, and then even bigger, but they never went away. They simply adapted into new forms and formed new ecosystems. We call them birds now.

The gap between Superman and The Shadow is merely 6 years, hardly much of a generation. There are those that argue that the Marvel and DC universes still have pulp heroes, that Batman is (or was) one, that characters like The Question and Moon Knight carry on the tradition. We have characters like Hellboy, Grendel, Tom Strong and Zack Overkill as original, modern examples of pulp characters, strongly identified as such. Venture Bros had in 2016 the best modern take on the Green Hornet. Lavender Jack is still going strong. So the idea that pulp heroes are defined solely by being old and outdated isn’t exactly true, when clearly there’s still enough gas in the tank centuries later for stories with them to be told.

Is there any meaningful distinction between pulp heroes and superheroes? If not, can we identify one?

Costume is definitely a big part of it, as Grant Morrison famously argued in his own summation. Of what he considers the big difference between the two: 

“What makes the superhero more current is the performance aspect. That's what The Shadow and those other guys don't really have. Their costumes are not bright, and they don't have their initials on their chest, and everything isn't out front and popping like the superheroes. I think we can relate to that about them because in the world we live in, everyone has a constant need to be a star. I think superheroes are keyed into that parallelism. They're performers. They're rock stars, and they always have been.

And he’s right, to an extent. It’s definitely tied into the central differences between The Shadow and Batman, as I’ve elaborated. While The Shadow was far, far from the only type of pulp hero, the superhero’s costume has long been defined as THE thing that sets it apart from every other type of fictional character. At least, when it comes to American superheroes. 

Because the “criteria” for superheroes is nowhere near as set in stone as some would like to believe. Our basic definition of superheroes is based around comparisons and contrasts to Superman and Batman, and how they fit into what we call “the superhero genre”. The existence of a superhero genre is, in and of itself, debatable, and any working definition for superheroes is inevitably going to have too many exceptions. 

Superheroes are not defined by settings, like cowboys or spacemen, or their profession, like detectives. They can’t be defined by superpowers (Batman), a mission statement, having secret identities (Fantastic Four, Tony Stark), being good people, or good at their jobs. The costume, the closest there is to a true, defining convention, still has a considerable share of exceptions like Jack Knight’s Starman, a great deal of the X-Men who do not wear uniforms, or most superheroes created outside the US. The most basic definition of superhero is of comic book characters with iconic costumes and enhanced abilities who fight villains in shared superhero universes, but even that falls short of exceptions by including characters who are not superheroes (John Constantine and other Vertigo characters, Jonah Hex, the Punisher). Some people would call Goku or Harry Potter or Lucky Luke or Monica’s Gang superheroes, Donald Duck has literally been one. “Character with a distinctive design and unusual talents who fights evil” includes virtually every fictional hero that’s ever achieved a modicum of popularity in a visual medium.

Even telling stories with super characters doesn’t mean you’re going to be writing a superhero story (Joker). Superheroes are not defined by settings and genres, but they can inhabit just about any of them you can imagine. Horror, westerns, gritty crime drama, historical reconstruction, romance, space adventure, war stories, surrealism stories. As Morrison put it, they aren’t so much a genre as they are “a special chilli pepper-like ingredient designed to energize other genres”, part of the reason why they colonized the entire blockbuster landscape.

Aviation became a thing in the war years, so they started producing en masse aviation pulps as a subgenre. Zeppelins became popular, so they had a short-lived zeppelin subgenre. Celebrities starred in their own magazines. The American pulps were different from the German pulps, or the Italian pulps, or the Canadian pulps. In China, wuxia arose at a similar time period and with similar themes and distribution. In Brazil, we have “folhetos”, short, poetic, extremely cheap prose often written about romantic heroes and “cangaçeiros”, the closest local equivalent to the American cowboys. In Japan, “light novels” began life as pulp fiction, distributed in exactly the same format and literally sold as such. Pulp fiction has long outlived any and all attempts to define it as 30s literary fiction only.

Likewise, “pulp” and “pulp heroes” are terms employed very, very loosely. Characters like The Shadow and Doc Savage arrived quite late in the history of pulp fiction. You had characters like Jimmie Dale, Bulldog Drummond, Tarzan, Conan, a billion non-descript trenchcoat guys, and before those the likes of Nick Carter and Sexton Blake, dime novel detectives who made the jump to pulp. You had your hero pulps, villain pulps, adventure pulps, romance pulps, horror pulps, weird menace pulps. Science fiction, planetary romance, roman-era adventures, lost race adventures, anything that publishers could sell was turned into pulp stories starring, what else, pulp heroes. 

How do you make sense of it all?

The main difference to consider is the mediums they were made for. 

Pulp heroes were made for literature, superheroes were made for comic books.

Superheroes NEED to pop out visually, to have bold and flashy and striking designs, because comic books are visual stories first and foremost, who live and die on having attractive, catching character designs and the promise of an entertaining story with them. Pulp heroes, in turn, can often just be ordinary dudes and dudettes and anything in between in trenchcoats or evening wear or furry underwear, or masters of disguise rarely identifiable, because the only thing that needs to visually striking at first glance in a pulp magazine is the cover, so your imagination can get ready to do the rest. Smoking guns, bloody daggers, a romantic embrace, monsters hunched over ladies in peril, incendiary escapes. The characters can look like and be literally anything.

Comic books are a sequential art form where art and writing come together to tell a story, and every illustration must serve the story and vice-versa. It needs to give you an incentive to keep being visually invested in whatever’s going on. Pulp literature stays dead on the page unless animated by your expectations; you may have the illusion of submitting to an experience, but really it’s you expending your imagination to otherwise inert signals. You have to provide the colors and flashy sequences and great meaning yourself, and as a trade, you get much more text to work with in novels than you do in comic books, where the dialogue and narration are fundamentally secondary to the visual, whether it’s a superhero punching stars or a monster covered in blood.

Each art form has its strengths and weaknesses, of course, which are only accentuated when each tries to be of a different kind. There's been pulp heroes that tried making the jump to comics, and comic heroes that made the jump to literature. There’s good, even great examples, of both, but even at their best, there's always some incongruity, because that's not the medium these characters were made for. 

Superheroes are characters defined by being extraordinary. The pulp heroes are too, in many cases, distinguished from their literary antecessors because they were too uncanny and weird, a middleground between the folklore/fairy tale heroes and the grounded detective and adventure characters such as Sherlock, and the later far out superheroes. But they don’t necessarily have to be extraordinary. Sometimes they can very well just be completely ordinary characters, caught in bizarre circumstances and managing them as best they can, or simply using skills available to anyone who puts in effort to do good. Often enough the extraordinary comes in the form of a bizarre villain, or a tangled conspiracy, a monster from outside the world, a unique time period. The extraordinary is there, but it doesn’t have to be in the hero. 

That is, I’d argue, the other big fundamental difference between the two. "Superhero” is a name we use to define a type of character who fits an extraordinary mold, a Super Hero. It’s a genre, it can be every genre, it’s a shared universe and a stand-alone epic. There are guidelines, structures at work here. Grids, page count, illustrators. The Big Two and their domain over the concept. Academic usage of the term, standards that rule the “genre”, when it is defined as a genre. Malleable and overpowering and adaptable and timeless as the superhero may be, it’s still bound by a certain set of rules and trends.

The term “pulp hero” is a term that we use to label just about any character that happens to star in something we recognize as “pulp fiction”, even if it isn’t literally written in pulp, even if it’s decades later. It’s a “metaphor with no brakes in it”. Superheroes can be pulp heroes. The most powerless, unlucky, homeless bum can be a pulp hero, there were entire subgenres of pulp stories based on homeless protagonists or talltale stories told in bars. The cruelest villain can be a pulp hero. Boris Karloff about to stab you with a knife named Ike IS a pulp hero, and so is a space slug on a warpath (look up what happened when Lovecraft and R.E Howard collaborated).

As much as I may dislike the idea of pulp heroes largely only existing in the shadow of superheroes nowadays...that is kinda appropriate, isn’t it? Of course they are going to live and make their homes in the place where the sun doesn’t shine. Where Superman and co would never go to. 

Of course the 90s reboots of these characters failed. Because they tried turning these characters into superheroes, and they are not superheroes. They can visit those world, but they don’t belong in them, or anywhere else. They live in places where the light doesn’t touch, worlds much bigger and darker and more vast than you’d ever think at first glance, worlds that we still haven’t fully discovered (over 38% of American pulps no longer exist, 14% survive in less than five scattered copies, to say nothing of all pulps and pulp heroes outside of America). Not lesser, not gone, despite having every reason to. Just different, reborn time and time again. The shadow opposites.

In short: One is represented by Superman. The other is represented by The Shadow. There are worlds far beyond those two, but when you think of the concepts, those are the ones that things always seem to come back to.

[girlsgonemildblog]

Valley of the Dolls and Hollywood's Desire to Self-Protect

Poster from imdb.com

Valley of the Dolls (1967) tells the story of three young women working in show business in the 1960s. Originally adapted from Jacqueline Susann’s 1966 book by the same name, the screenplay was written by two women, Helen Deutsch and Dorothy Kingsley. The director for the film, though, was a man, named Mark Robson. The plot centers around three protagonists, Anne Welles, Neely O’Hara, and Jennifer North. Their stories connect and separate several times as they each navigate Hollywood, growing in stardom and fading into oblivion. All three storylines follow two themes, the role of women in the 1960s and the abuse of drugs by these women to deal with the pressures of their culture. The film largely stays true to the novel, but alters some important aspects in order to soften the critique that Susann originally proposed. Valley of the Dolls is an attempted commentary on societal demands on women in the 1960s, but is unsuccessful in its criticism due to continuing to perpetuate several misogynistic standards and Hollywood trying to alleviate itself of guilt.

Valley of the Dolls is one of few movies from its era that centers on multiple female leads without allowing for any male characters to come in and dominate the narrative. The story goes further than to just portray women, and even passes commentary on the harmful expectations put on them by society. There are messages about the workforce, body image, and marriage roles all present. Still, while the film may seem to have a feminist message for most of the plot, it falls short in its final moments. The two women, Neely and Jennifer, who are outwardly ambitious and more sexually promiscuous, are punished for their behavior, while the virginally pure and soft spoken Anne is the one who gets a happy ending, though not in the traditional sense.

The first woman to look at is Neely O’Hara (Patty Duke). Neely, the youngest of the three, is also the most talented and the most ambitious. While her two co-protagonists experience minor stardom, Neely becomes a full-fledged celebrity. As Neely begins her rise to the top, she is forced to work out, despite already being nearly rail thin. During her work-out montage, she even asks her trainer, “you call this acting?” This moment serves to show that for women, being an actor was not strictly about their talent, but also the way they looked. Working out is a part of the job for Neely because if she gains weight, people will no longer want to look at her and thus she won’t be able to be on stage or screen.

The affect of her ambition on her womanhood is also seen through the depiction of her first marriage to her hometown sweetheart, Mel (Martin Milner). When Neely gets her big break, she asks Mel to marry her, flipping the tradition of a man asking a woman. This is the first evidence of the gender role reversal that will be present later. In one scene, after Neely has made it and begun earning more money, the audience sees that Mel is now in charge of keeping house, a job typically meant for the wife at this time. The two get into an argument and Mel, sick of being bossed around by Neely, states, “I am not the butler,” to which Neely retorts, “you’re not the bread winner either.” The two get divorced shortly after. In the beginning of the movie, as Neely is about to be cut out of the broadway show, Mel gives her advice on how to handle the situation in a way that is both best for her career and best for earning money. Mel is more than happy to support Neely’s ambition when she is starting out and he is controlling her success. When Neely grows beyond his grasp, begins to overshadow him, and no longer needs him, the turmoil of their relationship begins. Mel’s male ego cannot handle having a wife who not only is not reliant on him, but who he is reliant on.

In contrast, Jennifer’s fatal flaw is not her ambition but her body. The audience is introduced to Jennifer (Sharon Tate) as she is scantily clad in a leotard with a giant showgirl headpiece on. Her first line is concern that she cannot walk, “I feel a little top heavy,” to which her director replies, “Dear, you are top heavy.” This is met by a chorus of laughter from the men in the room and clear distress from Jennifer’s face. Jennifer’s sin is simply her breasts and her beauty; she is punished for merely existing in her natural form. On the phone with her mother, she states, “I know I don’t have any talent, and I know all I have is my body.” She recognizes that she has no marketable skills, but with the way that society has commodified the female figure, she can use her natural assets to get ahead.

Jennifer’s plot line introduces the character of Miriam (Lee Grant), the sister of Jennifer’s husband, Tony (Tony Scotti). Miriam also manages Tony. This is interesting because all the other women in the film are controlled by men, but Miriam is not only not controlled by a man, but controls one herself. Jennifer, who seems not to have a manager, but operates as an independent, eventually is taken on by Miriam, emphasizing the way that Miriam acts as a male figure, controlling and dominating her world like men normally do. Miriam eventually sells Jennifer into porn. When Jennifer tries to protest, Miriam insists, “Tony wouldn’t know the difference.” Jennifer’s plea of “well, I would,” falls on deaf ears. Miriam views the world like a man, thinking only a husband should be offended by his wife’s immodesty, not recognizing that the woman is also a person with feelings about the exposure of her own body.

Jennifer’s whole life and career is based on her body. When she is diagnosed with breast cancer and must get a mastectomy, she states, “all I ever had was a body. All I know how to do is take off my clothes.” She is realizing that without her breasts, she will have no way of earning a living or supporting herself, as she has done her whole life. This drives her to suicide, deciding she would rather die than lose her body. The message of this scene is clear; despite the fact that society has deemed her figure the only thing that gives her value, her exploitation of it still must be punished by death. Women are supposed to surrender to the forces of the patriarchy, not use them to their own advantage.

The third protagonist, the redeemable protagonist, is Anne Welles (Barbara Parkins). Anne is introduced at the very beginning of the film through her own narration as she tells the listener that her family’s home has been around since the revolution, showing that she represents American tradition. The story of George Washington drinking from their well symbolizes that people like Anne are what give America life. This American idealization is what protects Anne throughout her career. As she enters the office for the first time to the slut shaming of a pregnant cat, the audience immediately knows that this place will not be very friendly to women. This is fortified when her boss tells her she is “too good looking” for her job and talks about getting her “broken in”. This is exemplifying the idea that beautiful women aren’t meant for work while also objectifying them by talking about women like they’re shoes.

Her romantic interest, Lyon (Paul Burke), who is also her boss, calls Anne, “barely pink” when he first meets her, admiring how young she is. He later tells her that jewelry is not for her, and that she should only be gifted flowers, specifically white ones. These are both attempts to preserve Anne’s delicacy, or “pinkness”.  Diamonds and gold are too flashy for a soft spoken woman like Anne, and the white flowers clearly symbolize purity. Constantly throughout the entire film, the audience is reminded of Anne being special and unlike other “bad” women such as Neely or Jennifer. At one point Lyon tells Anne that no other girls compare to her because they can’t “stand up to her image”. Not her actual person or personality, but her image. Anne does not have actual personhood in the eyes of Lyon, but exists only as the idealized woman.

This is further exemplified when she becomes the Gillian Girl. The man who hires her says he wants someone known with Gillian exclusively. The idea here is they want her to be only an image of beauty and innocence; if she works with other brands or as an actress she becomes more than one-dimensional and people can discover that she may have flaws. Anne’s ability to maintain her image of perfection and purity throughout the entire film is why she gets to live happily ever after at the end, unlike her two counterparts. She returns to her hometown and lives out the rest of her life as the embodiment of American tradition.

This movie gets its title from the nickname that Neely gives the pills that she and the other two protagonists all become addicted to. The name, “dolls”, calls to mind a picture of girlhood and female adolescence, highlighting how young Neely is (only 17) when the story begins. Many movies of the 1960s, such as Dennis Hopper’s Easy Rider (1969) were depicting taking psychedelic drugs and having crazy trips. Valley of the Dolls shows a different type of drug use, the abuse of painkillers. Though the main characters are movie stars and models, their drug habit was likely more relatable to the suburban movie-going audience than that of Hopper’s characters. It was all too common for housewives to be prescribed “mother’s little helpers” to deal with what was condescendingly written off as “hysteria”. Another difference between these two movies is that psychedelic trips were portrayed as freeing, eye-opening experiences. In contrast, the painkillers are entrapping for the women and ultimately ruin their careers and end their lives.

The character who has the least interaction with the “dolls” is Anne. This is done to keep the idea of Anne as the “pure”, “good” character. The way she begins to take the drugs is interesting, though; she first picks up the bottle when she realizes that her long-term boyfriend, Lyon, is having an affair with her best friend, Neely. This serves two purposes. This first is that it shows that the pills are not used for pleasure, like psychedelics would be, but for numbing purposes. This also displays the corruptive force of Hollywood; it is not until the plot moves from New York to Hollywood that these women turn sour. Because of this city, Neely betrays her best friend and sweet, innocent Anne is driven to drug use.

Jennifer is seen taking the pills two times, twice as often as Anne is. The first time she takes them is when she learns about Tony’s illness. Again, they are used to numb emotional pain. The second time Jennifer is shown taking the pills is when she purposely overdoses on them to kill herself. This is the most extreme version of numbing difficult emotions a person can take, and the most obvious way that the movie could show that these drugs do not provide enjoyment but rather stop misery. What the “dolls” provide is nothingness, and Jennifer takes this nothingness to its maximum.

Neely is the character whose story is most entangled with drug use. She begins when her trainer gives her diet pills to slim her already thin figure. During this montage, the audience clearly sees Mel, the symbol of her pre-fame life, shake his head and tell her no, but she responds with a shrug, as if to say, “what’s the worst that could happen?” Shortly after, she tells Anne that she takes sleeping pills that are so strong, she has to take red pills to counteract them to wake up in the mornings, but then must take the sleeping pills again at night because the red ones have not yet worn off. Taking the pills is an endless cycle for Neely that will lead her to spiral to rock bottom.

In a following scene, Neely is seen being an absolute mess on the set of a movie, causing them to call for her husband to take her home because she cannot work under such strong influence of drugs and alcohol. When Anne and Lyon go to check on her, Anne lectures her about the danger of drinking while taking the pills, but Neely asserts that she must do so because it makes them work faster. This moment shows the desperation Neely has to stop feeling. Later on, after getting drunk in a dive-bar, having sex with some random nobody, and being robbed the morning after, Neely overdoses and nearly dies. Anne implies that this may have been intentional, despite Neely insisting otherwise. The audience is left to wonder.

During the third act of the movie, after Neely has gone to rehab and gotten clean, her older rival, Helen Lawson (Susan Hayward), brags about how she never needed pills like Neely did. Lawson claims her current sobriety is only temporary and Neely will eventually return to her old bad habits. The character summarizes Neely’s entire story with one line, “nothing can destroy her talent, but she’ll destroy herself.” Lawson’s words come true; Neely’s final scene sees her relapsing on opening night of the show she’s supposed to star in and being replaced by her younger understudy, the very thing she was afraid of. Her story closes on her drunk in an alley, screaming her own name.

To properly analyze this film, one must compare it to its source material, Jacqueline Susann’s novel by the same name. Though the movie stays true to the novel in most major plot points, there are distinct narrative changes and omissions that drastically alter the story. One of the most distinct examples of this is that Lyon refuses to marry Anne until the final scene of the film. In the novel, he marries her when they first reunite in Los Angeles. When he begins his affair with Neely, Anne is pregnant with their first child, which gives Anne a stronger motive to turn to the pills than she has in the movie. The book version of the two women are also much closer friends, which creates a more dramatic change in Neely’s character than in the film. Removing these two extremes makes Neely’s character arc less impactful.

Another aspect that was removed is Tony’s obsession with sex. An important part of Jennifer’s characterization is that she has always been made to feel that her body is her only source of value. This is added to, in the novel, by the fact that sex is the foundation for her relationship with her husband. This is only alluded to in the film with one line when they are walking in the park. In the novel, it is emphasized explicitly at multiple points. One of the reasons Jennifer chooses to kill herself rather than lose her breasts is because she believes she will lose even her husband’s love. The film likely made this change, as well as the marital change, to make the characters of Tony and Neely more sympathetic. While this goal is accomplished, it also softens the harsh realities that Susann was trying to expose in her novel.

One final difference between the film and novel is the ending. In the film, Lyon finally proposes to Anne and she rejects him, getting to move on with her life and live peacefully. She gets a happy ending. The novel ends with Anne and Lyon still married, her discovering that he is having yet another affair with a client, and her returning to the pills. This final note makes it clear that there are no happy endings for women in this city. The change is another example of Hollywood trying to show itself in a more flattering light than the one Susann placed on it.

Valley of the Dolls, the novel, was written by a female author as a way to condemn the mistreatment of women in the 1960s, specifically the mistreatment perpetuated by Hollywood on women in show business. The film adaptation tries to duplicate this commentary, but fails for multiple reasons. The first is that it chooses to save the “good girl” character. In the written work, all three stories ending in tragedy shows how no woman is safe from the effects of the patriarchy. Opting to protect the “pure” character alters the message completely so that it is no longer a criticism but a continuation of the idea that ambitious, promiscuous women deserve punishment and good, virginal women deserve happy endings. In addition, it omits important plot points that provide motivation for the characters self-destructive actions, such as Anne taking the pills for the first time and Jennifer committing suicide. By removing the catalysts, the characters are turned into cliché hysterical women. The film fails to adapt Susann’s novel correctly because it replicates the sensational bits while omitting the message. Unlike the book, the film serves only to entertain and not to critique.

[patina-millers-biceps]

Tell us how you would redo SMASH tell ussssss

OH HELL YEH Thanks.

OK, SO in my ideal world, Smash runs for 5 seasons. Remember that bc I’ll come back to that later. Overall Tone: I would take it all... and dial it up to 100.  Remember Ellis? Now EVERY character is that fucking crazy. It’s like Glee if Glee was self-aware to how batshit crazy it was, and relished it. The problem was that Theresa Rebeck (season 1) knows what NYC theatre is like, tried to be realistic, but also make it relatable to middle America, and that Joshua Safran (season 2) does not but also tried the same things. When really they needed someone who A) knew what NYC theatre was like B) didn’t give a fuck and C) didn’t give a fuck also about if middle America found it relatable.  But Sarah! What about viewings? You ask. Well, if YOU’RE the moron who’s going to write about a hyper-specific industry I think you just gotta dive in. Commit. Make everything fucking crazy and completely unrelatable to literally everyone. Riverdale that shit but make it good writing. Ultimately, it’s why season 1 worked better. Because at least my girl Theresa knew how to write drama without resorting to burying her gays. I think she should have taken it up higher though. Like, when Uma Thurman’s character got an allergic reaction? I think Karen and Ivy should have teamed up to poison her. I said what I said.  As for the Team Ivy vs. Team Karen? We’re balancing a tricky line here bc it has to be dramatic but also not misogynistic. (that season 1 Ivy character assassination? Bad.)   Ideally, these two would go from hating each others GUTS to reluctantly teaming up against movie star Rebecca (Uma Thurman would thus have to appear earlier and stay longer), deciding that they are in love actually like each other, and cheering on their successes and hating on the MEN who force them against each other. (But while we’re on the subject... #TeamIvy).  That Out Of The Way: Season 1: The Bombshell Workshop Phase Season 1 would ONLY follow the workshop phases of season 1. Which is most of it. Here we have Ivy and Karen’s strangers to enemies to reluctant teammates to friends to lovers arc. This is the emotional core of the show. Rebecca Uma Thurman has to show up around the midway point. Julia’s adoption arc? Throw it out. Sorry Ms. Rebeck i stan you but it sucks. Focus on her and Tom’s friendship as the secondary emotional standpoint. They’ve worked with with other for years!! That dynamic is awesome!! But they were fighting the whole ass show??? Nah. Pit them against Derek. I would change nothing with Eileen.  Oh I also don’t give a shit about Karen’s shitty boyfriend. Season 2: The Bombshell Out of Town Tryout/ Enter Hit List  The first half of season two is the out of town tryout with #TeamIvyKaren against #TeamRebecca coming to a head through rehearsals and the first few previews. Like, I’m talking some Phantom of the Opera level fuckery these two are doing. Falling set pieces, costume malfunction, Ivy actually fucking putting the peanuts in her smoothie. It’s seen as OK bc in this version of Smash Rebecca is a terrible person who has no respect for the ~~**~Theatre~~**~~ The creative team still choose Karen as Marilyn (why?) but she doesn’t get good reviews!! This causes Karen to freak out if the theatre life is really right for her when she meets Jimmy and Kyle. Karen jumps ship to Hit List, Ivy rises to her rightful place as Marilyn in Bombshell. Rehearsals begin to reshape the show for Broadway, Hit List lands its Off-Broadway run. Season 3: Broadway Here I Come/ It’s Tony Time Babey!!  Bombshell opens on Broadway, Hit List opens Off-Broadway and KYLE DOESN’T FUCKING DIE (He still gets hit by a car, everyone thinks he died at first, but he’s just in a coma for a few episodes wherein he has weird out-of-body experiences.) Hit List transfers to Broadway.  BUT WE HAVE SOME DRAMA because Movie Star Rebecca has landed the role of Maggie in a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof! We have some cross-show hate bt Bombshell/ Hit List/ and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof because they’re all on 45th street. There’s drama bt Julia and Kyle bc of Kyle’s fling with Tom! But will it last? No! Kyle ends up really hitting it off with Wesley Taylor’s ensemble member character when he visits Tom backstage at Bombshell! Eileen threw one too many drink in her ex husbands face and he’s legally blind now also she’s producing Bombshell AND Hit List! I’m fucking crapping that shit with Ana getting booted from Hit List and Derek being a perv. Karen and ivy still really hate Rebecca (??? it’s Smash it doesn’t have to make sense!) so they stage a coup and replace her in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Jennifer Hudson’s character! The Tonys happen! I liked how they worked out in the show, so i’ll keep that. Jimmy still goes to prison! Tom gets back together with Sam!  Season 4: That’s How We Keep 8 Shows A Week Fresh Y’all  Basically what it sounds like. We go back and forth between Hit List and Bombshell and the absolute CHAOS of backstage on Fake Broadway. There’s a snowstorm that shuts down the city, people hooking up backstage. Derek has an actual redemption arc. Ivy does not get knocked up bc she knows how to use birth control. The Big Story is how bc Eileen is involved with some illegal shit if it’s going to all come crashing down on the unsuspecting actors and writers. Tom and Julia start writing their Great Gatsby Musical. Fictional Lin-Manuel Miranda is there. Jimmy gets out of prison and rejoins the cast. This season takes up about 2 years of time and will be dubbed the weakest one by critics and fans alike.  Season 5: Big Finish!   Bombshell and Hit List have been running for about 3 years total by now. Eileen’s illegal shit comes out. Bombshell and Hit List have to close! It’s a really long that takes up the whole season. All the camp of the previous seasons is gone now and it actually is really beautiful and sad. Some real “What I Did For Love” shit.  At the end, Hit List is able to transfer back Off-Broadway a la Jersey Boys and Avenue Q with a new producer, Bombshell dies but goes out strong and is recorded for PBS and eventual DVD. Ivy now finds out she’s pregnant and also joins the workshop of The Great Gatsby The Musical as Daisy, Ana is Jordan Baker, Sam is Jay Gatsby, Nick Carraway is played Nick Jonas’s character who no one has seen since season 1. Derek is the director.  Another Op’ning Another Show yall.  Karen and Ivy reunite to sing “Big Finish”  End of Series.    You’re welcome everyone, even though literally only 1 person asked for this.