#his work at Stark Industries is what people would actually know him from

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #62

[shanastoryteller]

tony gets kidnapped on his way to a business meeting or something and he goes with it because they’re in a pretty crowded area and he doesn’t want some innocent bystanders getting hurt in the scuffle. the team will notice eventually and his overprotective boyfriend captain american is going to 1. notice very quickly and 2. freak the fuck out, so he’s not really risking much here

also these kidnappers are sort of stupid and he’s not really worried about escaping later. except even though they’re stupid they mention things about the avengers and shield that they really shouldn’t know so tony decides to stick around to see if he can figure out if they lucked into hacking past his security (not likely) or if there’s some sort of mole

except the leader and the underlings get in an argument right in front of him because apparently they were supposed to capture captain america, not iron man, and the guy who grabbed him is like no, no, this is better! we have his boyfriend so we can lure him here instead!

meanwhile tony is just stating in disbelief that these idiots manage to string two thoughts together. there has to be mole. or someone else really in charge. or something.

and the leader is like fine whatever. he takes tony’s phone and opens the contacts and snorts, “this is what you have him saved us? pathetic”

tony looks at the contact labeled <3 <3 love of my life light in the dark wind beneath my wings <3 <3 and is sort of glad he’s gagged so he can’t say anything

he still doesn’t really know what’s going on and jarvis is still trying to hack their system an there’s no harm in sticking around a little longer since these people are. you know. idiots

except approximately fifteen minues later rhodey is busting down the wall and taking out all these guys in thirty seconds flat and tony slips out of the ropes that he’d undone about five minutes after being put into them (thanks nat) and pulls down the gag and says, “i thought you were on radio silence on a mission in ghana”

“i thought you could be trusted on your own, so it looks like we’re both wrong,” rhodey says. “what were you playing at?”

“i would have told you not to come if i’d known you’d get the message,” he protests. “i was working an angle here, okay, jarvis are you into their systems yet?”

“yes,” his trusty ai says from his phone from one of the kidnapper’s pockets. “tracing the origin of their financial backer now.”

“you really didn’t have to stay kidnapped for jarvis to do that,” rhodey points out, brushing him off and checking him for injuries.

tony shrugs. “i didn’t want to risk one of them getting away and tipping them off. take care of them i could. do it before they got a signal out without the suit? maybe not.”

this very reasonable discussion is interrupted by the rest of the avengers coming in swinging and then left blinking except for steve who feels the need to fuss over him while tony whines and complains and pretends he doesn’t love it

he says they were after steve anyway, he was just bait and steve frowns and is like well, why didn’t they try and contact me then? we knew something was wrong because of the stark industries security footage

and natasha, the sneak, has picked tony’s phone from the kidnapper’s pocket. he lunges for it but she skips back from him and says, “well it looks like they tried. they just messaged the wrong person”

steve takes the phone and sees the contact name and that the kidnappers sent the message we have your boyfriend and if you don’t do exactly what we say you’ll never see him again and is like. this is what rhodey is saved as in your phone?? what am i??

“look, the things is, it’s not like i actually use anyone’s contact, or look at it, i just tell jarvis who to call, so you really shouldn’t take this personally,” tony says.

steve types in his own number and stares in disbelief. “captain? i’m saved in your phone as CAPTAIN?”

“okay well when you gave me your number we weren’t dating and also you were being very mean to me at the time, so,” he says, resisting the urge to hide behind rhodey because he doesn’t think that will help

steve turns his gaze to rhodey. “what is tony saved as in your phone?”

“i really don’t think that’s relevant,” he answers, looking back at the hole in the wall like he’s considering flying out of it.

“jarvis, what’s tony saved as in rhodey’s contacts?” steve asks.

tony says, “j, don’t-“

“sir is saved in colonel rhodes’s contacts as baby,” jarvis answers.

clint is laughing so hard he’s going to break a rib. natasha raises an eyebrow, which is about the same thing

steve’s face is pure betrayal

“it’s because he’s an infant,” rhodey says, “and very needy and he throws up on me a lot.”

“hey!” tony scowls. “i haven’t done that in years!”

“and when you were texted about your boyfriend being kidnapped, you just knew it was tony?” steve asks.

rhodey shrugs. “well, who else would it be?”

even steve doesn’t have an answer to that

“it’s purely platonic,” tony says reassuringly, “carol would scratch my eyes out.”

steve scowls and sulks until tony changes his contact name

except now he’s in tony’s phone as captain handsome. he tells himself it’s an upgrade

[cosmicbucky]

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 

You never knew. 

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 

Until the day you finally met Bucky. 

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 

So, you agreed. 

And that's how everything started. 

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 

Only yourself. 

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 

Except for when it came to Bucky. 

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

[fbfh]

busy busy busy (but never too busy for you) - dad!tony + stark!reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: dad!tony + (gn) stark!reader

genre: minor hurt/mostly comfort

warnings: needing to spend time with your parent, crying, emotional comfort, if you have daddy issues this one's gonna hurt lol

summary: after traveling with your dad on business, you find yourself missing spending time with him. Tony can't have that, of course.

song rec: walking the wire - imagine dragons

a/n: first fic finished post top surgery!!!!!!! the next few weeks posts will probs be shorter until I finish chapter 1 of the next multichapter fic lol. Also if I didn't say it recently I love you guys, thank you so much for all your love and support <333 PS if you need more personalized dad!tony.... character.ai works well for that lmao

tags @afidiofobia @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @dustyinkpages  @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @liberty-barnes @followingthefanfiction @youkissedareaderinthedark @girlfriendwhoseawitch @mrscarolscaramoucheplease

You climb into the car, settling into the plush leather seat as Happy closes the door next to you. You set down your bag and try to get your seatbelt buckled while your dad sits next to you, wrapping up a phone call. 

“No, no. I don’t care. I said-” He stops, listening to someone on the other end for a moment. He’s clearly annoyed. He’s had to deal with people simultaneously trying to kiss his ass and tell him what to do all week, and you can tell he’s getting tired of it. 

“Throw as many conferences as you want, they’ll all be Stark-less. Throw a whole party, while you’re at it- you know what? No, don’t do that. I might actually show up to that.” He mutters the last part, something that would normally make you laugh. He glances over at you, but you’re still fussing with your seatbelt. 

“Alright, how about this. I’ll refer you to Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts.” The person on the other end is already objecting, but your dad couldn’t care less at this point. He’s said what he needed to say, and this idiot doesn’t want to listen. He continues to wrap up this disastrous phone call as the car pulls into the street, and starts driving you to the airport. 

“She’ll help you get this sorted out.” 

He hangs up without saying goodbye, then looks over at you. As soon as he does, he knows something’s wrong. You’re not yourself. You’re staring at the bottom of the seat in front of you instead of out the window, or going on your phone. Usually you can’t wait for him to finish business calls, sometimes texting him in the middle of them - texts he’s always happy to receive. You’ve rescued him from pointless conference calls with those texts more times than he can count. You always have something to tell him or update him on, whether that be the latest social media drama, friend group drama, the show you’re watching on Netflix, or even Avengers memes you find online. You always have something delightful you’re excited to share with him without even having to try, and it lights up his day each time. Except now, with you staring into space. 

He hands you the coffee he got you, taking his out of the cardboard holder that had been resting on his lap until now. You look over briefly, accepting the drink. 

“Thanks,” you say lightly, but there’s something in your tone that tips him off. 

“You okay, kid?”

You pause sipping your drink, wondering how he figured you out so fast. He’s your dad, you suppose. That’s kind of his job. You thought you’d been doing an okay job at masking the hollow sadness that’s been eroding you from the inside out all weekend. It doesn’t happen too often, and you tried everything you could to distract yourself until it stopped working. Until now. 

“Is it school? Boys? Girls?” He asks when you don’t answer right away. There’s a note of humor to his voice, but there’s also a sincerity, and you know that even if it was school or boys or girls that he would help you through it. “C’mon, you gotta keep your old man up to date on all the tea. The hot goss.”  

You let out a weepy chuckle, tracing the lid of your drink. He’s always the first to know when your Starbucks order changes, and he always knows exactly the perfect drink to get you without even having to ask. It’s a little thing, but it makes you feel even worse. You’ve spent the whole weekend trying to ignore how much you’ve been missing your dad, missing spending one on one time with him that’s not in between meetings or over a late dinner. He works so hard, and he has so much on his plate, but he always makes time for you. 

That’s why he started taking you along on business trips like this, because you both hated being away from each other. Usually it’s fine, usually you’re off exploring whatever city you’re in, going shopping, or generally finding somewhat entertaining ways to pass the time that you can tell him about next time you catch up. It’s usually really fun, too. It’s just when it gets busy like this, you think, when he has all these meetings and you have all your stuff that you’re juggling that you start to get like this. 

“No, no,” you say softly, rubbing the bottom of your eyes when they start to get misty. “Nothing like that…” 

Tony listens intently in the silence that follows, waiting to see if you have more to share with him. The smell of his cologne is paternal and comforting, a familiar reassurance that floats around him and feels like a hug.

“I just miss you, I guess…” you start, speaking your mind before you can even think. Your dad has that effect on you, it’s so easy to share how you feel and what you’re excited for or worried about that it feels automatic sometimes, like it’s impossible not to. Tony feels his heart break as he realizes what a toll all the recent traveling has taken on you, both of you. He pulls you in for a tight hug. You feel the tears you’ve been fighting start to spill, Tony rubs your back reassuringly and it finally feels safe enough to. 

He tries not to dwell on the fact that you got to feel like this in the first place, tries not to let that voice tell him he should have noticed how you felt sooner, that he’s a terrible dad, because he knows inside that he’s not. He’s not his father, and he sure as hell won’t make those mistakes. He could let himself worry about how he’s doing with you, let it keep him up at night - hell, it still does some nights, even when he doesn’t want it to. It’s been that way with you since he became your dad. Instead of worrying about that, he does what he does best. He takes action. 

“You are such a sweet kid.” He states, pressing a kiss on your forehead when you pull away. He brushes away the tears spilling down your cheeks. “Unfortunately, sometimes being a genius-billionaire-superhero-superdad requires some meetings and boring stuff. But don’t think I forgot about the most important part of that.” 

The dad part. He doesn’t even have to say it, you both know that’s where he’s going with this. You nod along, sighing as your breathing starts to slow back down. 

“But you’re right. It has gotten to be too much lately.” 

He reaches into the small mini fridge sitting between the driver’s and passenger seats, crisply cold and stocked with both your favorite drinks. He grabs a water bottle, opening it and handing it to you. 

“How about this? We’ll spend the whole plane ride back watching movies together - or that show you were telling me about, the one with- god, what’s his name…” He tries to remember the name of that actor you’ve been talking about the last few days, and you chuckle, supplying the answer. He snaps his fingers in recognition, repeating it back to you.

“Yes. That’s the one. We’ll watch all those movies, and you brainstorm what we’re going to do this weekend. Dream big, kid. I’ll have Pepper help you organize the whole thing.” 

Your eyes widen in excitement, and you hug him tightly again. 

“Thanks, dad.” You smile. You really are both long overdue for some quality time together, and Tony knows if he has to attend one more meeting, he’s going to lose his mind. The cave he built his first arc reactor in was more interesting than some of the people he’s spoken to recently. 

“I love you, kid.” 

He looks at you fondly for a moment, basking in pride at what a wonderful, amazing person you’ve become. It’s not time for him to get all sappy on you with the dad stuff, not quite yet, so before he can, he grabs a fluffy throw blanket and spreads it across you. 

“Now, we’ve got a big weekend ahead of us, so get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get to the airport.” 

Right before you start to doze off, you hear him on the phone with Pepper, filling her in on the plan. 

“Alright, so they’ve got about 25 more minutes of Stark business time, then I’m off the grid till monday.” Pepper says something about how they’re not going to like that, and Tony laughs, glancing over at you sleeping peacefully. “They don’t have to.” 

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Mr. Mailman | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a crush on the mailman :)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

A/N: This was an anon request. Enjoy!

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha forlornly stir her coffee while staring out the window.  

“She’s upset Y/N won’t notice her,” Yelena explained.

“Shut up,” Nat snapped, shaking her head and snapping herself out of her fantasy.

“I’m not wrong.  You’ve had his eye on him ever since he first showed up!”

“I said shut up!” While her tone was harsh, the blush creeping across her face told a different story.  It was true.  Natasha Romanoff, normally the stoic, unattached assassin, had a crush.  

From the first day Y/N L/N stepped foot on the Avengers’ compound as the new Stark Industries delivery driver, Natasha was absolutely smitten.  She didn’t know what it was.  Maybe it was the way his biceps bulged as he pulled the truck full of packages through the loading dock.  Or maybe it was the flourish he used flipping the clipboard back to the dock manager after signing the package transfer.  But truth be told it was the way he glanced up from the clipboard and smiled at Natasha the first day he saw her.  Ever since then she used every excuse in the book to be at the loading dock or mailroom whenever he was there.

******

You never anticipated that your first job after college would be a delivery driver for Stark Industries, but here you were.  While it wasn’t the office job you anticipated, driving the delivery truck was actually pretty cool.  Getting to step foot on the Avengers compound every day was cool.  Having Tony Stark as your boss was cool.  Sneaking a glance at Natasha Romanoff whenever you could?  Cool isn’t the exact word you’d use for that.

The first time you laid eyes on Nat was your first day of work.  You were signing for some packages that were being transferred from the compound to the main site when she walked by.  She was passing through, on her way to some other location.  All you did was look at her and smile.  She flashed a quick grin in your general direction before speeding off.  That was the last time she actually made eye contact with you, but it wasn’t the last time you saw her.  Most days she was either in the mailroom or the loading dock whenever you got there.  No words were exchanged between the two of you, but she was always there.  Sometimes you sensed her looking at you, but she quickly glanced away when you looked over at her.

Natasha was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that.  You never missed an opportunity to steal a quick glance whenever she passed by.  But you were always too scared to actually strike up a conversation with her.  She was the Black Widow: something about asking one of the world’s fiercest assassins out for coffee intimidated you.  There was always the slight risk that an unwanted advance would end in your assassination.  So you kept your distance for reasons of personal safety…or that’s what you told yourself.

******

“As the resident expert on waiting too long, don’t.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Nat chided.  “I don’t even like him.”

“Oh, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Steve chuckled, dodging the coffee cup that came flying at his head.  “It’s okay if you like him!  I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s a nice guy.”

“No.  No, it’s not okay.  I wouldn’t know what to do if he liked me back…” she trailed off.

“You go out for coffee.  You talk, you get to know each other.”

“Steve I…I’ve never actually dated anyone before!” Natasha blurted.  Red crept up her cheeks as she finally admitted the one truth she never spoke aloud.  The only other person who knew the truth was Yelena and even she was sworn to secrecy.

“What?” 

“I know how to seduce people.  That’s part of the job and I do it well.  But it’s just the job.  I’ve never done it for real.”

“Come on, you’re kidding.  What about Connor?” Steve was shocked at the revelation.  He set his coffee cup down on the counter and rubbed his beard as he stared at Natasha.  

“That was a cover for the joint mission with MI6.”

“Lillian?”

“SHIELD mission.”

“David from Accounting?”

“Daniel.  Just sex.”

Steve didn’t say anything: he just stared.  Natasha glanced at her feet, kicking the ground in front of her as an awkward tension spread over the room.  She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole just to get her out of such an uncomfortable situation.

“Nat-”

“No one’s going to want to go out with a woman who’s never been on a date before,” Natasha replied tersely.  She gulped the lump that was slowly creeping up her throat as she once again swallowed her pride.  

It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually partner up with someone, in fact it was quite the opposite.  After so many years of excuses, she just figured it would never happen to her.  The possibility of something finally working out scared her.  Natasha worried she wouldn’t know what to do.  Sex was one thing.  That was transactional, something both parties rendered knowing there weren’t any strings attached.  Intimacy?  That involved being vulnerable and saying how you felt.  After so many years living so many lies Natasha wasn’t sure she was capable of such openness.  

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Steve encouraged, placing a hand on her shoulder.  

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha snapped as she shook his hand from her body.  “We both know it’s not that simple.”

“It is with the right guy.”

******

Should be good after this last trip, you thought to yourself as you pushed the overflowing mail cart down the winding hallway toward the mailroom.  It was cold and rainy, a miserable day to be on the road, and all you wanted was to get out of there, drive the truck back to the city, and head to your apartment in Queens.  All that was left was sorting the mail and putting it in the right mailboxes.

The mailroom was a convoluted maze of boxes, bins, tubes, and chutes.  Everything had a specific spot and it was easy to mess up at first.  Once you got the hang of it, sorting everything out wasn’t too bad.  What once took over an hour only took you twenty or so minutes now.  Plopping the cart down in front of the mailboxes, you got to work stuffing envelopes, packages, and postcards where they belonged.  The work was mindless, meditative almost.  Once you got into the rhythm of it your brain shut off and muscle memory took over.  Today you were so in the zone that you didn’t notice the redhead walk into the room behind you, so when you turned around the shock of realizing you weren’t alone made you drop your armful of envelopes.

“Oh great,” you muttered, stooping down to pick up the papers.

“Here, let me-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s my fault.  Let me help you.”  

You watched as the redhead knelt down in front of you, raking papers toward herself.  It was the first time you were ever that close to Natasha Romanoff.  A more looming, intimidating figure in your mind, she was surprisingly smaller and less threatening up close and in sweatpants.  If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t even know that she’s a trained assassin.  She was so unobtrusive, so inconspicuous.  She was also so, so incredibly beautiful. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in here,” you sheepishly apologized as you stared down at the red ponytail that was flopping back and forth.  

“I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people,” Natasha admitted.

“Understandable,” you chuckled.  Natasha gave a slight smile as she handed you some envelopes.  God her eyes were the brightest green you’d ever seen.  You grabbed the envelopes from her, holding onto them and locking eyes with her for far too long.  Suddenly realizing you were actually a human being on earth currently existing in the moment, you cleared your throat abruptly and looked down at the letters.

“A lot of mail today,” Natasha mumbled.  She snapped her head toward the mailbox, trying to hide the redness spreading over her cheeks.  “Are you always this busy?”

“Uhhh, no.  Not always.  Normally it’s not this bad.  Did y’all collectively decide that today was the best day to order from Amazon?”

“That’s either Bucky or Yelena.  My sister’s always buying stuff she doesn’t need and Bucky loves the novelty of next-day delivery.  I think it’s that whole ‘born over a hundred years ago’ thing.”

“Funny.  Most of these packages are for you,” you teased, thrusting a stack of envelopes in her direction.  

“What on earth?” Natasha fumbled the packages, completely confused as to why she had so many packages when she didn’t remember ordering anything.  You watched as her eyes furrowed in utter confusion.  Her bewilderment was equally amusing and adorable.  “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“I just deliver the mail, ma’am,” you replied.

“And make me feel old, Mr. Mailman.  You can call me Natasha.”

“It’s Y/N, but you can call me Mr. Mailman if that makes you feel better.”

“How about I just call you instead?” Natasha blurted without realizing what she was saying.

“What?”  

The second she realized what she just said, Natasha became totally overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “I’ll just-thanks for the packages.  Have a good weekend.”  She scrambled to pick up what she could before making a beeline for the door.

“Natasha, wait!” you heard yourself calling.  “Please just wait, please, ummm…”  She paused, still looking down at her packages as she faced away from you.  “Umm, coffee?  I mean, d’you want to get coffee?  Not right now, I’ve still gotta get the truck back to the city.  But maybe tomorrow?  Or I can do Sunday if tomorrow doesn’t work.  Basically whenever you’re free I can clear my schedule.  If you want.  No pressure.”

“Alright.”

“Sooooo tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.  Tomorrow.”  She glanced behind herself, shooting you a half grin that she was failing to stop from becoming a full on smile.

“Cool.  Great.  Awesome.  Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you replied, totally breathless and in shock at the situation.  A coffee date with Natasha Romanoff…what could go wrong?

[uniiiquehecrt]

I'm thinking in terms of actual real life experiences I've had when I say this, but I'd imagine part of what makes being a Thor enjoyer so frustrating in 2024/MCU's phase 4+ era is that... you're effectively not allowed to enjoy your favorite superhero.

I once had a conversation with a close friend of mine during a casual outing, and without going into very many details, this particular person is an enjoyer of Ragnarok, and enjoys Tailka's work overall. Now, I should say right off the bat: there is nothing wrong with these opinions. Everyone is entitled to like what they like and enjoy the work of creators just the same as other people are allowed to dislike them. For this particular post, I'm not here to get into fandom wars or "reasons why taika waititi is a terrible director" beef. I have other posts in line for that. But what I will say is that I already knew this about my friend, so it never surprised me when the topic of Thor came up that it would be a point of disagreement.

The issue I've found that continues to circle in the general space of "being a Thor fan" came when I expressed that I don't like Ragnarok, I do think Thor was funnier (and just better overall) before Ragnarok and therefore Taika's involvement, and quite frankly Taika had very little business taking on the mantle of director of a superhero franchise he has never liked or understood in his life just because he had mouths to feed. (There are other opportunities to fulfill that. And filmmakers know going into this industry that it's all gig-based and - if they're smart anyways - work around that.) I hadn't even gotten a chance to go through all of the reasons WHY I feel that way, of which I have had before compiled an organized list of about 16 talking points off the top of my head, so as far as that particular discussion goes... it didn't go anywhere. We were busy at the time.

But namely what I want to talk about is this:

The response I was given, in summary, was something along the lines of "well I think Thor was boring, and he wasn't my cup of tea, so I'm glad he changed."

But, you see, there's just ONE small issue with that: Thor isn't meant for everyone.

In fact, no character is meant for everyone. So why is it that Thor needs to change to be "for everyone" and be the MCU normies' "cup of tea" when no other character has to? Why does he need to lose his core identity (both as a character, as a franchise, you name it, it's been done) just because people like my friend don't understand him as well as Tony Stark or Spider-Man? And why should Thor fans have tow watch their favorite superhero get stripped down and turned into something completely divorced from the character, world and cast we were first involved with from the beginning?

Nobody at any point has been able to answer me that besides "well just because I didn't like Thor personally."

Iron Man won't appeal to everyone. Neither does Captain America, neither does Spider-Man, beloved as even Spidey is. They have their own quirks, their own villains, their own storylines... Every superhero has a core to them that their stories revolve around. He's from DC, but Superman, for instance, has the core of: love, justice and the American Way. Therefore, his stories revolve around challenging that core, and making Superman prove it. Steve Rogers/Captain America has a similar core. Justice, freedom and the American Way, is what I'd mostly boil his core down to. Thor's is "love" all around. I've written about that '(here)' in my post about his 2011 themes. Maybe it's different for other fans, but for me personally? I adore that about Thor. It's one of the many reasons I'm drawn to him over any other marvel Super besides Spider-Man. (not you tom holland ... yes you andrew garfield...)

So when I go to Thor for entertainment, I'm going to him above the other superheros because I want a story that revolves around HIS core and how Thor goes about reckoning with his challenges. I also go to MCU Thor specifically for his quiet, kind, regal nature. I come to him for his gravitas, his passion, his relationships with his cast of companions.

I go to him for high-sci-fi action/adventure, or for the "what if we took norse mythology and made it an alien superhero" route they took him in for the MCU. I go to Thor because he IS different from the rest of the Avengers... and that's the point.

So when someone says to me: "Well Thor wasn't for me so I'm glad he changed", or "Well I really liked Ragnarok because Thor kind of become more in line with the other Avengers"... they're fundamentally missing the point of why Thor has a fanbase at all.

[georgiapeach30513]

Hi peach ❤️ Mrs pasta checking in

It’s been a long week, huh? If you’re in the USA, like some of us, 😵‍💫 but I’m going to avoid the politics talk.

I hope you are faring well despite everything.

I have no shade to throw today but I do want to remind some people on here in the midst of a lot of toxicity (not politics related). There’s a small group on here that has turned into a hilarious mix of haters/antis/no longer sure what they’re supposed to be but they’re 100% counterproductive. Imagine being that bored with your own life you spend your days torturing yourself following someone you “hate.” But I guess some people like being miserable.

Ramen, try as he might, is not a very good liar and I don’t think he would make a convincing salesman 🤣 but I do think that he filmed a movie in 2022 and it was delayed a year to release, and now that some are feeling extra in their feelings about him, are seeking confirmation through searching the internet for bad reviews on his film so they can project more negativity onto him.

He’s actively worked on three (still working on the third) projects this year. None of these projects have been released and I don’t believe they’ve confirmed any release date for these films either (correct me if I’m wrong).

So if that’s the case, I think it’s wise to wait things out and see how the rest of these projects pan out and whatever he decides to do next. bemoaning and groaning on a movie that was filmed 2 years ago as a yardstick of a person’s current life and career is a bit of an interesting choice. I think most of his fans knew this movie wasn’t going to be an awards darling by any means and especially knowing that the rock and his crew are behind this..how is anyone surprised if it’s a goofy overblown exaggeration of a ride?

Besides, the actors that work on this film are all professionals. They all do this for a living and promoting a silly goofy probably not going to be a hit with critics movie and playing along with the silliness is part of the job.

Marketing. PR. Yes yes it’s all mostly lies and manipulation. A lot of us have tried telling some of you that Hollywood is a business first, and everything else second. If you sit here upset that a celeb would possibly play up or even “lie” about something while promoting a film, then you may want to get out of this fandom and check the rest of the world.

This is not me being mean or invalidating other people’s feelings. I’m just telling you all as someone who works in an industry that’s all about manipulation and selling, myself. I do it because it’s a job. I don’t agree with everything but they pay me. I separate my own personal feelings from my work and then I go home. Life moves on no matter what.

Peach, thank you for being ramen’s shining beacon of support. They really ought to start paying you and anni for the work you both do for this fandom.

😘❤️

Be well

Mrs. Pasta! I was hoping you would drop in this week because what a week we've had! But yes, there's a reason that I avoid politics here, and that's because this is my escape. And like most of us, we're just not in the best place.

Unfortunately it does seem to have a heavy dose of toxicity in our little corner on tumblr. I think there's quite a few groups that are a bit counterproductive instead of just enjoying the plethora of content we've been gifted, but hey ho.

Ramen is one of the worst liars I have seen. And I'm not sure what that means sometimes. This movie was filmed in 2022, and carried on into 2023, and of course, was originally set to released Christmas 2023, but who knows what was going on behind the scenes for it to be delayed until this holiday season. This movie was also never going to be a critical success. Movies like this are meant to be for audience success, but what do I know?

I actually find it quite commendable that he's been able to make himself be so busy this year with work. Compared to what his tone was in the GQ interview fall 2023, this is a stark difference. He's showing that there is work to be had if you want it. He's taking on smaller roles, and he still seems proud of that fact. However, as of yet, there is no release date for any of these projects filmed this year. I suspect Honey, Don't release should be announced soon-ish.

And I think you're right about expectations on Red One. Judging the trailers, I think we're getting exactly what I thought we would be getting. It looks like a fun, goofy, not too serious Christmas movie. And honestly, I love those. Not every movie was meant to be a critical darling, or be awarded. Sometimes you just want to have a good time.

I think if most people would look at Hollywood as a business everyone would be better off. It is just lipstick and rouge, and they show us what they want us to see. Sometimes there's some cracks in the foundation, and we see a bit of the lies and manipulations. And in this case this is a family movie, so to no surprise some people are playing up the family aspect of it all. Interesting, and yet not, all at the same time.

Sometimes you have to pick and choose what you want to see, hear, learn, and you just have to learn it's not that serious at the end of the day. It's entertainment, and when you look at it as such, you have a lot more fun. And honestly, a lot of us have been entertained lately.

Ooh, you got to watch talking about pay on here, it sends the wrong message, and people like to call you the p word. Anne and I, and so many of our mutuals and followers, just want to have fun. Isn't that was a fandom space, such as tumblr is supposed to be about? Not about constant drama and arguing, but enjoying an entertainer? Their work? Getting excited about public appearances? Spreading memes, gifs, and works of fiction?

Mrs. Pasta, as always it's a pleasure. And I look forward to your next drop in. As always, take care!

[stark-ironman]

Mob Boss Intro

18+ No Minors!!

A/N: I know... I was supposed to post part 3 of the Firefighter AU but I have bad adhd and wrote this instead. If you have any ideas or questions or anything really, send me an ask!!

------

"Shit"

You curse to yourself as you miss the bus, again, due to the fact you had to work late. Working late isn't a problem but when you just recently wrecked your vehicle on top of not having a place to park a bike so it wouldn't get stolen, it became kind of a pain to revolve your life around a bus schedule. You start walking, sticking your hands in your jacket as the winter wind picks up.

Snow starts falling and you look up, cursing some more as you hear a car pull up beside you. "Need a ride?" The guy asks as you keep walking. "No thanks, I'm good." You say not looking back at him. "The news station is calling for a blizzard and I don't think you want to be in it whenever it hits." He tries to reason. "I'm not too far from my house so you can go on ahead." You tell him. "I give you my word I won't hurt you. You could even drive my car if it made you feel safer." The guy states and you stop.

"If I get in the car would it get you to stop pestering me." You ask as he smirks. "Maybe." He chuckles. The snow picks up and you sigh, getting in his car. "Straight to my road and that's it. I'll walk to my house after that." You state as you type the road name in and he starts driving.

"Don't trust me, huh?" He asks with a chuckle. "I don't allow people I don't know to my house." You say. "My name is Tony. Tony Stark." Tony says glancing at you. "Y/N Y/L/N." You mutter. "So see, now we're not strangers." A laugh falls from his lips after saying that. You roll your eyes and look out the window.

"I couldn't help but notice the scrubs. Are you a nurse?" He asks. "Doctor, actually." You correct. "Holy shit, really? Damn." He exclaims. "What? Are you shocked by that?" You ask. "Well shocked that I picked up a doctor on the side of the road." Tony says turning down the road. "Wrecked my vehicle a couple weeks ago so I haven't had a chance to get a new one." You say. "Well I told you what I do for a living so tell me what you do." You say.

He ponders for a bit before saying, "I own Stark Industries and a few other... business." You look over at him and debate on questioning him but decide not to. "Isn't Stark Industries a weapons company?" You ask instead. "Was. Now we manufacture a number of things ranging from science equipment for space to anti-pollution stuff and we just branched out into the medical field actually." He says.

"You must be a pretty smart guy then." You look over at him. "I don't like to brag but since you brought it up, I am." Tony says with a smile.

"Just drop me off up here." You tell him.

He nods and parks on the side of the road.

"I could always just take you home. The storm is getting worse and a doctor like yourself doesn't need to get sick." Tony tries to offer. "I'm pretty sure I can handle a little snow. Thank you for the offer though." Grabbing your stuff, you step out of the car but he stops you. "Can I at least give you my number just in case you ever need a ride again?" He asks.

"I got a feeling you will keep pestering me until I say yes." You groan. He smirks, "I'm a man who likes to take his chances when he sees them." "Fine but I'm not promising to call." You agree, handing him your phone. Tony types his number in and hands it back to you, smiling softly.

"Goodbye, Tony." You say. "Goodbye, Y/N."

You get out and start walking to your house, feeling your phone buzz when you're halfway there.

"Let me know when you make it home. I'm still parked down the road just incase. -T"

That little shit sent himself your number.

[infiniteeight8]

Hello! Before anything else, just wanna say: thank you so much for sharing so many amazing fics and ideas!

I just read "Entertain Me" over on AO3 and (if it works out - absolutely no pressure) would be interested in seeing a part 2 that covers the "Tony does him best to charm Stephen into forgiving him later" moment.

Hope you have a great day!

Hey there! Thank you so much! 😀 I’ve gotten so many lovely comments, from you and from others, and I hope everyone knows how happy it makes me that people enjoy these ficlets so much. ❤️

This follow up is less charm and more communication and apologies. I know the original prompt said charm, but something about that feels insincere to me so we’re going this way instead. It’s also going to be pretty mutual—the more I thought about it, the more I felt like they both had apologies to make.

The first ficlet can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60103798

-

Stephen is gone for a week. His absence, in the wake of walking out of the benefit, has only fueled the tabloids. When opens a portal into the penthouse living room, Tony looks up from pouring a drink. “If you meant to wait out the news cycle, you’ve mistimed it,” Tony turns back to the drink, giving it a stir before setting the stir stick aside. “The tabloids are still speculating about a possible break up.”

“I don’t actually enjoy being away,” Stephen says, closing the portal. He leans against the couch and looks at Tony expectantly.

Tony knows what he’s waiting for. “I’m sorry I ignored you.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “And?”

That takes Tony a second. He purses his lips. He doesn’t want to argue, but… “I’m not apologizing for worrying about the tabloids.”

“You made me feel like an accessory,” Stephen says flatly. “Like your convenience and your image mattered more than our relationship. Like I was interchangeable with anyone else marginally interesting.”

Tony winces, but he’s not going to back down. “I need to explain this better.” Stephen waits. Tony sighs and downs his drink, setting the glass aside. “When the tabloids get ahold of something juicy,” Tony says, “it’s not just me who is affected. Like it or not, my name reflects on Stark Industries. The past week has been shitty for me, yeah, and I deserved it. You know who didn’t deserve it? The PR team that has been running damage control all week. The departments that delayed press releases because they’d be lost in the noise. The investors whose stocks took a two point dip.”

Stephen is frowning now. “I can’t stop and think about how the press will react every time there’s a bump in our relationship.”

Tony’s heart clenches. “Stephen, if you can’t consider the press, we can’t have a relationship.” Stephen shoots him an alarmed look. “I’m not saying I can do whatever I want and you have to suck it up,” Tony barrels on. “And I’m not saying the press reaction trumps everything. But you have to be able to consider it. You have to be able to remember that if you need to yell at me, you yell at me in private.”

Stephen lets out a long breath and comes over to the bar, fixing himself a drink. “I’m more than your entertainment,” he says after a minute.

“Yeah, you are,” Tony says. “And that’s new for me. I’m sorry for treating you like arm candy. Like you were disposable. I want to promise that I won’t do it again. But honestly? That’s some pretty ingrained behavior. It’s going to take work to break it.”

Stephen looks up from his drink and catches Tony’s gaze. “But you’re willing to put in that work?”

“I am,” Tony promised. He ventures a smile. “You’re worth it.”

“You’re worth the press crap,” Stephen returns, and Tony feels a wave of relief. More than a few people have decided he isn’t.

[belowzion]

Below Zion: Rethinking Valentino

Hello everyone! Today I wanted to show you how we've been rewriting Valentino. As stated in my previous blogs, the characters are given different feels to make them as distinct from their show counterparts as possible so that eventually this can be its own thing. While still inhabiting the pimp lord aspects, Valentinos way of thinking, motivations and even what he does in his past-time should change how this character works and why I grew a fascination in writing about his character recently. Make no mistake, he is a villain and funnily enough, a stark contrast to Charlies ideas.

"Oh, the sex work is great! Tino is garbage. See, I haven't left the industry. I just ran from that self-rightous prick…" - Hip-Lash, one of Angels best friends, left the 'industry'. Hasn't seen Angel for 30 years. To understand where Valentino comes from and why he is the kind of person he is, some context is needed. In Below Zion, sinners are completely incapable of making pacts with other people. Their power instead depends on how sinful they were in life. If you sinned too much, you get thrown into Penance Machines, where you are excessively tortured and bleed out all that sinful energy for runes! Runes pass off as currency in Hell. But if you were not a cannibal serial child killer, you get to enjoy some amazing powers! Or if you got bailed out of these machines through some higher power. While nothing too crazy like what Alastor might be capable of, these sinners are still very powerful with the Wrath they possess. Valentino is no exception. His hazbin is an interesting case of a person hiding the true degeneracy that they possess deep within them. See, Valentino, known before as Mikhail "Milo" Tarentino, was a yoga teacher, originating from India! The guy, not really enjoying his position in India due to the fact that yoga was already quite popular there, decided to move to Italy where yoga wasn't as prevalent! Tarentino was a social butterfly, able to get many contacts and many students into his class! However, his true debauchery also began here. He would often have sexual intercourse with his own students, coercing them, grooming them and eventually fucking them! It does not help the matters that most of these women were married.

"Oh goodness, I did not expect to have a new neighbour! Welcome! I actually remember you, you know? You agreed to collect dirty things for Butcher Pete." Sledge nods. "So I did." "Gross job. Glad they had rubber gloves my size." He says, raising a paw, and wiggling his pudgy fingers… It reminds Alastor a little of one of those asian lucky-cats… cute. "Why ya callin' him 'Butcher Pete'?"

"Oh! No reason! There is just a very catchy song that I wish I NEVER paid any attention to the lyrics of!"

He says as he spins his microphone!

"Would you like to give it a listen? It reminds me of the kind of sinners that I find often here in Lust…" "Sure."

From Als staff - a combination of magical and technological - comes out a very upbeat tune! "Hey everybody, did the news get around? About a guy named Butcher Pete! Oh, Pete just flew into this town, And he's choppin' up all the women's meat!

He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'! He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'! He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'! He just hacks, wacks, choppin' that meat!"

And also... this.

"Yeah, I see your point there, Al... but I got a question for ya~" He says with a sinister grin~

"Very well, i shall bite! Shoot!" "Say, have you ever had a pump and dump at a family reunion~?"

"[Oh no...]" The T.V Demon grows... concerned for what is about to be retold.

Velvette begins to giggle maniacally!

"I know Some of those words! Likely Not in the context You Want them to be in, though!"

"Then you do know the context I am referring to~ Don't worry Al, I am not talking about ones own family reunion, obviously, but somebody else's."

"You Are talking about FILTH then. No Val, i have done Nothing of the likes!"

"Oh come on, never had the fun? I had this one where I was invited to one of my students', I was a yoga teacher back in the day, you see? Anyhow, I eventually found myself banging different women. See, because they are all related, they had like, slightly different mommy boxes, but I was test driving 'em, right? Seeing how evolution has shaped each one a little differently so that you can find one that's just right?"

[No, Val stop, Al is already-]

"I call this goldilocksing~"

"And this relates to hunting... hoooow...?" Velvette seems perplexed...

Val thinks for a moment...

"I forgot what I was getting at, my bad~" He says as he takes a puff from his cigarette.

Al... looks grossed out. He thinks about this... And shivers in mild disgust again, a few moments after the first time.

As you can see here, Valentino kept his "trade" a secret in his human life, but he was also very good with it. Being able to get around fucking the entire female half of a family. Living in Italy though, he envied the mafia families that always seemed to be able to get what they wanted. More so because one day, one of those families caught Tino and his disgusting tendencies and... lets just say that he was never found on Earth again.

This eventually landed him in Hell. While he did sin quite excessively, it did not compare to the likes of Velvette, Alastor, Eve, Angel Dust or Agatha. However, he did gain one very prominent power from this... The red mist. The mist he puffs out whenever he smokes, the stench that leaves his body, the morphine that binds people to him like soul contracts!

Its an addictive substanance. Some people even describe it as off-puttingly as possible by saying that its his "musk". Valentino, while possessing not a terrifying amount of strength compred to some other powerful sinners out there, he possesses an ability that can dominate each one of them without trouble.

One such case being Angel Dust.

See, Angel, being the son of a ruthless mafia boss, when arrived in Hell, he wanted to become famous and wealthy immidietly! Get rich quick without much work! Well, with work he loves to do~

This is where Valentino steps into his life, offering him such opportunities while... making sure Angel inhales his mist as much as possible. Keep him addicted, don't let him get away~

Valentino is especially abusive towards Angel both sexually and physically. However, this stems not from his actual love for Angel Dust, but his hate.

Valentino, ever since he arrived in Hell, has gained a sick fascination towards punishing the sinners that think they are hot shit.

"He has a… self-rightous attitude lets say. If he thinks you had it too good and don't appriciate the stuff you have… he'll get ideas~" -Velvette

Valentino is the essence of Hell. He punishes the winners of hazbin, not the losers. Seeing Angel Dust, being this mafiaso that loved and CRAVED sex in every opportunity and got what he wanted without ever thinking about the implications, gives Valentino this certain feeling of moral superiority. He feels like a punisher, a true demon of Hell that is there to become Angels worst nightmare for all the horrible things he has done in his life.

It gets better due to the fact that Valentino knows he is weaker than Angel, yet due to his addictions, he wins over him. Its not some pact that binds Angel, its his own Lust... and Sloth. His desire for easy success and wealth led him to this disgusting mess.

When Charlie rolls around with the idea of redemption, of course he hates it. To him, punishment is well deserved and bad boys like Angel need to be made an example of.

This also presents the reader with an interesting question. Does Angel deserve what Val does to him considering that he was CERTAINLY not a good person in his own hazbin? Or does he deserve redemption? This is literally Charlies ideology, being asked to the viewer. Should the sinner be punished or redeemed? Angel was a despicable human being that murdered, tortured, raped and was bound to many external substances. Does he deserve punishment in the hands of Valentino? Or does he deserve redemption in the hands of Charlie?

Valentino is also not just doing this to Angel. This goes for ANYONE he thinks they had it too good for too long...

Welp, that was all! Valentino is an asshole pervert fueled by hatred!

Please do write feedback, I'd love to hear your ideas if you think of any!

[ofbluesandyellows]

Committed to the Cause - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Spider-Man gets injured in battle, he accidentally crashes into you and his hero complex comes into action. As he tries his best to redeem himself he can’t find a way out from the guilt and unbidden feelings.

Word count: 5,321

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, swear words, grief.

a/n: Hi! It’s me again, here I bring a story I started writing almost a year ago but i kind of forgot it existed until like four months ago. It’s a tasm! one, hope you like it! I divided it in 3 parts because it is a bit long so yeah, have fun :)

Part 1

Peter Parker sat down near Gwen Stacy’s grave, the sky was evenly gray and the cool air swirled around making the snowflakes dance away and float around. It’s been only a week since he came back to his universe. 

“I wonder how Peter 2 and Peter 1 are doing right now.” He whispered to Gwen, while his fingers brushed through the colorful daisies he bought for her. “I’m Peter 3 you know? I guess 3 is just the best number,” he shrugged remembering the chaos of that night around his brothers from another universe, literally. 

“Honestly Gwen, if you only could’ve seen them—see us. They were truly amazing, and the way we all connected and then we were shooting webs, the synchronicity that I experienced— I never had that. It was as if we could read each other’s minds and wow—it was fucking cool.“

Peter sighed, a hue of vapor escaped his lips. “I bet you saw it though, how I saved MJ? Peter 1’s girlfriend, I did what I couldn’t do for you Gwen. I’m sorry, I'll always be sorry for that.”

Adjusting his beanie tighter to his head when a sudden wave of wind made his skin form goosebumps. Deep in his heart he could feel that Gwen was actually listening to his banter, that this was her way of telling him that things were okay between the two. 

Peter went to see Gwen every week, she was the love of his life, he was certain of it. But the truth was that Peter had lost all hope on love after Gwen.

He’d be lying if he denied the fact that he had found himself thinking of what Peter 2 said to him; that things worked out fine eventually in the love department, it put the seed of curiosity in him, what if things actually changed for him, in his heart, and he could finally let Gwen rest. He was clinging to her memory like a life jacket, if he let go he would drown, he would lose himself to the darkness. 

His phone buzzed as a message showed him a text of the police department trying to contact Spider-Man. 

“Gotta go Gwen, I’ll see you next week. Love you so much.” He put a kiss on his palm to then let it linger on her tombstone. 

In a hidden part of an alley he put his mask on, he had to put his stuff between some garbage bags so people wouldn’t steal it, there wasn’t much to steal there, still he plastered it with web fluid, a force of habit. He swung between tall buildings and across streets, hearing sudden gasps and shouts announcing his presence in the city. It was funny how things had actually changed for him in the span of years; The Daily Bugle seemed to stop with the nasty propaganda; he was now on good terms with the police, he also had free health insurance thanks to the police department and he was doing well financially. Stark Industries was a place he never thought he would find a spot to fit in, to do the research he felt drawn to.

There were big threats still in New York but Peter didn’t feel that dread whenever he fought, the constant fear of losing someone he loved, those being the benefits of being alone, but how alone could you be to start missing the company of a partner after years of being lonesome?

Spider-Man quickly solved the robbery near the upper east side, it wasn’t a major thing, the thieves got webbed and delivered to the detectives, he got a bullet wound in his shoulder but nothing some tweezers, neosporin and a bandage couldn’t solve. Peter was even able to do so by himself now: the perks of being alone.

Peter had received several injuries and even more deeper wounds than the one he had on his shoulder but this one time as he shoot a strand of web coming from his right arm—the wounded one—his arm didn’t find it easy to carry his weight, and he was feeling somewhat dizzy, he thought it was the blood lose, because he hadn’t received a kick to the head nor anywhere his body could react the way it was doing now. He found himself screaming as he fell from a twenty four storage building. 

“Watch out! Spider down!” 

His instincts shouted at him to use his other web shooter, he did so, but Peter was being a little clumsy today. Slow motion turned on in his brain. The web-thread splashed on the building in front of him, but the height wasn’t enough to make him swing by without any implications. The chime of a bicycle bell was his only warning. After that he felt the clash of his body against something warm and then he rolled on the cold concrete. 

That was embarrassing. People screamed and sooner than what Spider-Man could recover, people were surrounding him to help him get up. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He spoke under the mask, his shoulder throbbing with every move.

It took him a few seconds to register what just happened. He saw a mint green bike with a twisted handlebar, a bunch of flowers scattered and crushed on the ground and then panic started to bubble in his chest. A girl—a young woman was sitting on the wet asphalt, a few people were kneeling by her side as she held her arm against her chest.

Spider-Man ran to her side, pushing the pedestrians lightly. Squatting down, his eyes scanning her, a scrape on her cheek and forehead on the same side of what he guessed was an injured arm.

“I am so sorry, I swear this isn’t me, I mean it is me but I don’t know what happened I don’t— are you alright? Can I help you with anything?” 

The woman had pools of tears on the rim of her eyes, she was holding them in, because that was just humiliating, she was late for the delivery and now she had lost the bouquets and she didn’t dare to accuse The Spider-Man of her bad luck. The day was not a good one since the start. This was the ultimate confirmation.

“No, Spider-Man… sir, It’s not your fault, I just, I think I broke my arm.” She was barely able to pronounce the words, she was in terrible pain, how could she know?

“Oh, let me see.” Peter gulped under the mask, his stomach churning. He had broken the woman’s arm, this was bad. Taking her elbow she winced, tears finally slipped down her cheeks, shit. “Ms. I need to take you to the hospital.”

“No, no I have work, I can't go to the hospital now.” He saw the panic take over her features. 

“It’s the least I could do. I caused this, please let me do something.” 

Guilt was eating him alive, the more time he spent there with all the witnesses watching and telling her she should take Spider-Man’s word. 

She felt a little hazy on the head, like when you take a pill to not get dizzy on a long road trip, and everything starts to lose sense, sounds muffling. She shook her head trying to keep the masked hero away, she had to work, she needed to gather the flowers and—

“Ms.?” Spider-Man felt panic, a rush of blood like his spider senses were going off. 

Her eyes rolled backwards and she went limp on his arms. 

“No, no, no.” he mumbled, taking her in his arms he did what he could to swing through the city to reach the nearest hospital.

People, nurses, doctors, they all came to a halt when they saw Spider-Man arrive carrying a woman on his arms, this was quite the scene Peter could imagine but he was not able to think straight not when he had hurt someone—by mere accident that was true, yet the guilt was so heavy he felt like he could cry under the mask.

“I need help please!” He shouted and as if he had broken a curse, nurses and doctors moved again, some of them walking towards him.

“What happened?” a nurse asked as they started moving him to a nearby stretcher.

“uh, I… she had an accident on her bike and I think her arm is broken and she has a concussion or something I’m not sure.”

The nurse nodded as they put oxygen on the girl quickly moving her to the ER. Peter followed them until someone stopped him. “Sorry man, you can’t come in.”

“Oh, yeah ok. I’ll just wait.” 

“You need to get yourself fixed too.” The same nurse told him, pointing to his shoulder. “You’re ruining the floor.” 

Peter’s eyes looked down and there, from his shoulder all the way down to his finger tips a thread of blood was dripping down, leaving crimson drops on the floor.

“Sorry,” 

A minute later another nurse got to him and made him follow her into a room.

“We know you can’t reveal your identity and if people keep on seeing you out there they’re gonna start asking questions and it’s gonna be messy. So mister Spider-Man can you take off your suit? The mask can stay on, I need to clean that.”

Peter was a bit shocked still and maybe the blood loss was not helping so he nodded, his suit landed at his feet in a pool or red and blue, at least he was wearing a nice pair of boxers.

“I recommend you to come back later, you will only cause drama here, mister Spider-Man”

The nurse said and Peter just watched her work.

He was good as new in no time. His head felt light still but he managed to swing back to where he put his belongings in that alley. With the last bits of adrenalin still in him, he swung back to May’s, he sat on his old bed, suit on, mask off. The uneasiness he felt in his chest was suffocating. Why did he leave the hospital then? He couldn’t be at peace now. And why did he end up at May’s when he had his own apartment in Manhattan?

Maybe his injury affected his brain, his eyes checked his shoulder and the little wound was almost closed, thank goodness for fast healing but what about those who didn’t have that… What about the girl?

He wanted to make sure the girl he hurt was okay, it was an obvious statement. Yet he couldn’t go as Peter because he didn’t know anything about her and ugh, he grunted against his hands. Then he could go as Spider-Man. He knew the nurses would let him in if he asked kindly. However, he was scared of the reaction of the girl, what would she think of him of his idiocy. Spider-Man was not known for hurting pedestrians, he was supposed to save them not harm them.

His phone chimed from inside his backpack, Peter was on a streak of bad luck.

The news on his mistake quickly spread, he shook his head reading the article The Bugle had just released, how were they so fast? He wondered as his messages continued to pop up, Jonah Jameson wanted photos of Spider-Man, Peter’s former boss couldn’t let the other news sites win the exclusive so when it came to Spider-Man he still contacted Peter for exclusive photos, and Peter delivered, just because the news always made him look nice, but not this time.

Peter groaned even louder, this was not how he planned his day to go. Whenever he visited Gwen he usually had the best experiences afterwards, once he found a fifty dollar bill on the subway, just lying there on a seat, and then there was this other time where he got a free coffee because the owner proposed to her girlfriend and the drinks were free. 

But that luck seemed to be long gone. 

“Peter, are you in there?”

Peter’s heart jumped, he didn’t know May was home. “Yes it’s me, May!”

“Are you okay?"

“Um, yeah. I just got work to do and you know me… I’m complaining.”

“With the amount of hours you work I’d complain too. Are you heading out? I need you to bring me some bread and milk, are you staying the night, right?”

“Yeah, sure, May. Why not! Are you working today?” 

“Yes, but the car is at the mechanic,” Shit, Peter totally forgot about that, he made a mental note to give May some money to get that car fixed.

“At what time you’re off?” he asked, putting a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie on. “Do you want me to pick you up?” he said, opening the door.

May shook her head, a sweet smile on her face, “No, Peter. Jamie, my coworker is driving me back, you’re fine. Just don’t come back too late okay.”

Her hand caressed Peter’s cheek, making his anxious body feel slightly better. He gave her palm a light kiss and nodded. “Of course not May, when have I been late for our weekly dinners?” 

He let out a chuckle watching May drop her hand as she rolled her eyes, she shook her head and with a tired sigh she only added. “Don’t forget the bread and milk!”

“I won’t!” 

His smile dropped once he heard his phone buzz again. Plopping on the bed, with furrowed eyebrows, and a guilty mind, he took the decision he guessed was the most appropriate, maybe was a little over the top either way his hazy mind was calling the shots for the day. 

He found himself crawling up the walls of the hospital at night, after finding the girl’s room. Spider-Man found a way in, the windows were tiny but not too tiny to not let him sneak his body inside. Crazy, he knew, he had no other option.

Seemed like none of her family members got informed because no one was there making her company. Peter felt even worse. Gulping, he took a step closer to her bed, she was sleeping. It gave him enough time to assess the damages he caused. She had butterfly closures on her forehead, her lips were chapped and her arm was in a cast resting on her stomach. Her face was resting on the pillow in a weird angle almost over her left shoulder. 

The IV made a rhythmic noise with each drop, the monitors were checking her heart rate. Somehow seeing her like that made the guilt and worry grow, Peter wanted to fix this.

His eyes landed on a clipboard over a table at the feet of the bed. He grabbed it and checked every detail. Name y/n, heart skipped a beat, now her face had a name. You were a year younger than him, you had health insurance, well that was something good he could cross from the list of his doing wrongs.

No concussions, no internal bleeding, you had surgery on your broken arm, Peter winced, the radius broke in two and now you were half a robot with the pins and rods attaching your bone together. That definitely was not helping Peter feel better. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, placing the clipboard back down. His hands were up to his head. 

When his eyes found your face you were looking at him, with wide eyes and parted lips, Peter felt his soul leaving his body. 

“Jesus fuck!” He gasped a hand on his chest. “You scared me,”

“I—um sorry? I’m, what… how did you get in?”

His hands went to his hips and shrugged. “Through the bathroom window.”

“Why?” you tried to reincorporate on the bed but whined when you moved your arm, like you forgot you had it in a cast.

“Because there was no other way to get in,” 

“But there’s a door there,” you pointed with your head. “It’s easier,”

Peter furrowed, you were not able to see him. He sighed. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s the anonymity of the visit that I want to keep… anonymous.” 

What was he saying now!

He shook his head. “Um, how are you feeling?”

You scoffed, Peter deserved that disdain. “Like shit, well not as bad because I’m on medication but still not great with a useless arm.” 

The casted one got up as if to show him, he nodded. Taking a step closer, his hands grasped the plastic railing at the feet of the bed. 

“I can imagine— I owe you an apology, I wasn’t feeling too well and it wasn’t my intention to hurt you… or anyone. I don’t do that, you know? Goes against the hero thing.”

Your eyes were shining either for the low lights coming from outside or because you were on very strong medications, Peter couldn’t tell, what he saw was a little smile on your lips.

“I suppose it’s not on the hero policy… It's fine Spider-Man, sir.”

Peter chuckled. “Spider-Man it’s fine, I’m not as old as you may think I am.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you were like thirty five or something.” 

“Ouch, I… hmm no, no I—listen. I'm gonna tell you this because I think I owe you something so I’ll answer this one concern of yours, I'm around your age. So think twice before calling me old again, young lady.”

Now he saw a full smile blossom in your face, it made him feel better, a lightness finally reaching his sore shoulders.

“Um okay,” you laid deeper on your pillow, a smile still tugging at the corner of your lips.

Peter felt suddenly so overly conscious of his body and presence in front of you in a dark room, the darkness was helping but he felt your eyes on him as he paced around.

“Do you know how many days you are gonna be here?” he asked.

“I have no idea, I woke up surrounded by people, then I passed out when the nurse extended my arm and woke up like two hours ago to go pee and then fell asleep and then you were here.”

“That bad huh?” Peter crossed his arms as he leaned his back on the wall right in front of you.

“The pain was bad, but now it’s light. I do feel like I’m in a cloud when I don’t move.”

“That must be nice,” his back cracked unbidden.

“That, on the other hand, sounds bad… Are you better now? or why did you crash into me?” 

Peter blinked, scratched his forehead and watched you, you looked tiny and sleepy.

“I got a bullet wound right here,” he touched his clavicle. “Lost blood and that’s when I accidentally crashed into you I was feeling dizzy, but yes I am better now.”

“I see… well, at least you are not in risk of losing your job,”

Peter straightened, a knot in his throat. “You lost your job? because of me?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, making his agony longer.

“Not really, just my weekly payment. My dad’s the owner so he wouldn't fire me, but still he didn’t even come see me, so” you shrugged. “you’re all good Spider-Man.”

“Hmm for what it’s worth I am truly sorry and I want to make it up to you, so if you need anything, really I am here for you.” Peter walked to your side, his hand lingered over your shoulder, debating himself if the touch would be too much.

“I don’t think I need anything, but thank you.” you were blinking more often, heavier.

“Are you sure?” his hand dropped by his side, forming a fist. 

He wanted you to ask him a favor he wanted to feel useful, to prove to you he was good and not an asshole.

Your eyes grew big for a moment. “Wait, there is something… but I don’t think it’s safe,”

Peter clasped his hands together. “I’ll do it, what is it? I mean I’m Spider-Man, if something is not safe I am your guy, I do unsafe things for free all the time.”

“Hmm… right, okay yeah. I mean it’s not safe for me but why not, what else could happen to me, right?” 

You laughed, Peter grimaced, fair enough.

“My dog, I have a little dog and he hasn’t been fed since I left this morning so… I mean if you don’t have any crime to fight right now, would you feed him?” 

And his heart melted, maybe because you looked very worried and the way you were observing him made his chest flutter. 

“Yeah, of course. I love dogs, I can do that, easy peasy. You got it!” 

You grinned at him, teeth and sparkly eyes, Peter felt weird. 

He let you explain how much food he had to put on his plate, and to refill his water bowl as well, to not step on his little grass square where he peed and to leave the window just ajar for the air to circulate.

And at the end you gave him your address, hesitation still on your voice, but Peter promised you he was going in and out fast. 

“I’ll check on you later okay?” Spider-Man said, as he walked to the bathroom.

You nodded, giving him a lipped smile. “You can use the door,”

“Nah, not my style… see ya later y/n.” 

Peter struggled to get out, it wasn’t as easy as getting in. He considered using the door next time. 

Your apartment was small, not too small but it wasn’t big as in rich family kind of big. But it was small as in cozy. Your dog, Percy, was barking at him as he entered through your room’s window. It smelled like coconut, he sighed. 

When he opened the door to reveal the hall leading to the living room, Percy jumped at his legs, looking at him with curiosity, and the barking resumed. Peter started petting him on his tiny head and as soon as Peter reached his bag of food, Percy sat at his feet. 

“Oh good boy!” He scratched tiny Percy on the back of his ear.  “Okay, Percy, show me your bowl…”

It surprised Peter to see Percy run from the kitchen to the spot dedicated to the little Yorkiepoo, two bowls rested side by side on a corner as his bed was placed right beside the largest couch in the room. Toys were scattered around and Peter smiled.

“Okay so your kind owner said half a cup and two treats, right?” Percy tilted his head, Peter laughed. “You are too cute”

The bowls got filled with the respective things and as Percy ate throwing Spider-Man curious looks, Peter roamed around the room. His mask forgotten on the couch. You were messy but not too messy, your apartment was clean and you had flowers everywhere. A big vase of daisies in your bedroom. Another one with lavender carnations and purple monte casinos, it made your house smell fresh. He watched a photo of you with friends and he noticed how different you looked, dressed up in casual clothes, hair brushed and yes, without a cast on the arm. 

You were pretty, he noticed, how your hair fell over your shoulders and your eyes were big and sparkly. Maybe your eyes were always shining. 

A bark took him out of the trance, Percy was at his feet again looking up to him. Peter squatted down and patted the dog, until the latter laid on his back showing Peter his chubby belly.

“You want me to scratch your belly? Okay, but just once because I have to go, still need to go buy some stuff you know? I need to fight bad guys and do groceries, not like you!” he kept on scratching until Percy moved his back legs as if he wanted to scratch himself. “Look at you, living your best life.” 

With a sigh, Peter stood up. Ready to go back to his life, this has been a nice way to stop for a second but for him there were not many breaks. 

A flick of a wrist, the window slid open a little, he gathered his web with his hand so Percy wouldn’t eat it, put his mask on and jumped off the balcony window.

Spider-Man had a busy night, some guys robbed a few trucks with chemicals inside that ended with an explosion on a dock. He felt a bruise forming on his back and arms, but he managed to get out of there, leaving the robbers webbed onto a wall of a building, the police and the firemen arrived in time for him to take a minute to recover from the smoke and the harsh hits his body received. 

He filled in the police with the information and as the sun emerged, the warm sun beams calmed the pain and the coolness of his bones as he made his way back to the hospital.

Spider-Man was not in condition to sneak in through the smallest window in the room, so he entered through the emergency exit and took the elevator. People threw him furtive looks, a kid hugging his mom’s arm had his eyes glued to him, so he did what any other person would do, Peter waved at him and the kid beamed. With excuses and hand gestures Peter sighed, exiting the elevator, no nurses were around but once he entered your room, he got surprised by the one nurse who had received you a day before.

“Oh mister Spider-Man, good to see you.” She smiled at him and Peter saluted her as she made her way to the door. “She is ready to go,” she winked at him and Peter knitted his brows together.

His eyes landed on you, gathering your stuff in a tote bag as best as you could, your left arm was not as trained as the right, he noticed.

“Hey!” he said, waving at you.

You nodded. “Would you help me?” 

“Sure,” Peter opened the bag and you literally threw everything in.

“Thanks… how was your night?” you asked, dark circles around your eyes.

Peter shrugged, regretting it instantly as his muscles complained. “Nothing out of the ordinary. What about you?”

You sat down on the bed. “I feel weird, but okay I guess.”

“Are you walking home?” 

“Nope, got to go see how work is doing and then I’ll go home.”

Peter nodded, well… this must be it then. “Percy is a cute dog, very well behaved.”

It made you smile, hence Peter did so too. “He is… thank you by the way, for checking on him and for coming by too. You didn’t have to but you did anyway.”

Peter felt a flush and warmth coming for his cheeks. “Nah, it’s nothing. As I said I owed you so it was the least I could do, really. I’m glad you are okay, sorry for the arm though.”

Peter smiled even if you couldn’t see.

“Well, it was fun to see the famous Spider-Man up close. No offense but hope this is the last time,”

“Ouch, no, yeah I get it, hope that too. Don’t get in trouble, okay?”

“You got it spidey.” 

You looked at your feet and the whole mood in the room felt weird, so Peter knew this was his cue. 

“I’m gonna go now, need a bit of rest after a long night. See you… well… yeah whatever, bye y/n.”

He heard you chuckle, Peter shook his head feeling a bit dumb, closing the door at his back he made his way out the hospital. 

When he got back to May's, he came to the realization that he didn’t buy the bread nor the milk, May made sure to remind him.

“PETER!”

“I’m on it, May! Sorry!” 

•••

Peter was late for his date, his date with Gwen. He fell asleep on the subway and now he had to swing all the way back to get her weekly bouquet.

The place where he always bought flowers was closed, mumbling obscenities as he crossed the street. 

How funny was that only half a block down another flower shop was open.

He bought flowers only for Gwen and for May’s birthday, so he didn’t know much about them other than the classic red roses for his aunt and the colorful daisies for Gwen. His jaw almost hit the floor seeing the flowers on display, buckets of color and the smell so fresh and so sweet and so magical.

After a second of admiring the shop he went to the desk where a guy was wrapping pink roses for a woman. He gave him a lipped smile which Peter replied with a nod.

“How much for a small bouquet of daisies?” 

The guy waved to the woman and put all his attention on Peter. “What kind?” 

“Um.. normal? I don’t know.”

The guy looked at him funny. “We have pink daisies, african, chicory, fire wheel, gerberas, japanese…”

“Just the cheapest bouquet you can give me.” 

Peter was late and he was not in the mood to know the kinds of flowers. He also forgot his wallet and now he had like ten dollars to survive the day.

“Okay…” the guy shook his head. “Y/n,”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly you appeared from a door he hadn't noticed until now, cast still on, but you looked healthier. 

“What?!” 

“Price for a bouquet of daisies…”

“What kind?” you sounded exasperated.

“Cheap,” the guy said in a tone that made Peter want to roll his eyes.

You squinted at the guy and Peter almost laughed. “Umm… eight dollars.” You finally looked at Peter.

Peter felt naked without the mask, and even if it was a crazy idea that he would deny later on the day, he, deep inside, was hoping you’d recognize him.

“Uh, um yeah that’s okay.” Peter spoke, a little choked.

“What colors do you want?” you asked him.

“All of them?”

It made you smile. “Nice.”

And you disappeared through the door, Peter let out the trapped air in his lungs.

The guy was just staring at him weirdly. “cash or card?”

“Cash,”

“Of course.” 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, offended. “Whatever man, I don’t want anything, thanks.”

Peter came out of the store mad, upset, shocked and disappointed. Crossing the street he tried to look for another flower shop. He didn't care he was late anymore, Gwen was a priority and he shouldn’t feel this shitty prior to his date.

“Hey, hey… dude..”

He heard and looked over his shoulder, you were running towards him, a bouquet in hand, cheeks red and no coat on. Were you crazy or what?

Peter stopped and waved his hands to stop you.

“You forgot your flowers!” you said, a hue of vapor came out of your lips.

“I didn't pay for them,”

“I know,” you looked embarrassed. “Sorry about Jerry, he's a little bitch, here take them! They’re on the house.”

Peter’s eyes went from your eyes to the happy perky daisies on your hand.

“I will follow you around until you take them.” You grinned. “Go on.”

Peter with a little smirk on her lips, sighed. “Just because you have no coat on and it’s freezing… Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, have a nice day.”

Your smile made him feel funny inside. “Yeah you too.”

Pivoting on your post you made your way back, Peter stood there perched, waiting for you to get inside the shop again, his cheeks went fully red when you looked back at him and smiled.

“No,” he simply said, shaking his head making his way to see Gwen.

Part 2 - Part 3

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Caught In A Web ~ 2

CAUGHT IN A WEB MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,305ish

Summary: Fury tells the team to be on the lookout for a new hero.

Notes: We’re going to pretend that Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame never happen(ed) in this fic. Okay? Okay.

THREE MONTHS LATER…

“There’s been more sightings of that spider-woman in downtown New York,” Fury stated.

Fury was standing in front of the long conference table in the glass-walled room of the Tower. Tony was on the opposite end, with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha on his right and Sam and Bruce on his left. The rest of the Avengers were out on missions or had taken personal time off, leaving the six of them to deal with Fury. There were holograms playing from a small round object in the center of the table: changing from video clip to video clip of the spider-woman.

“My question to you is what are we going to do about it?” Fury continued.

“Do we need to do anything about it?” Sam questioned. “It seems as if she’s just helping out people in need.”

“It seems that way, but it is clear that she has powers.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” Asked Steve.

“The problem, Rogers, is that we don’t know exactly what this spider-woman’s powers entail. We need to find her and bring her in for an evaluation.”

Tony scoffed. “You just want another super-powered human on the roster.”

“What I want is to make sure that we’re all on the same side here. And I hope that’s something that you all can get behind.”

“How exactly do you want us to bring her in?” Bruce wondered.

“We are in a building full of professional trackers and technology that allows us to make it extremely easy, figure it out.”

~~~

Tony was struggling, not that he would admit that to anyone. Pepper had broken up with him over a year ago and left Stark Industries, leaving him a broken shell of a man and putting him back as CEO of the company. Nothing interested him anymore; working in the lab, the suits, hero work, none of it. So when Fury told the team about bringing in the spider-woman, he really didn’t care about it. The person wasn’t doing any harm and actually helping the heroes with their job.

To try to help Tony get his mind off his troubles and maybe find this new hero, he decided to go out flying that night. He took one of his older suit models, only him to reminisce of the good old days. Flying between the skyscrapers allowed Tony to scope out the city to see if there were any signs that the spider-woman was out. Though Tony didn’t actually care, he had FRIDAY gathered all the information on the new hero and had determined that there were more sightings on the weekends than on weekdays. 

“Boss, there was a sighting two blocks east of you,” FRIDAY interrupted Tony’s quiet flight.

“I’m not going unless you’re positive it’s her,” Tony stated, not wanting to put any work in if it wasn’t going to be worth it.

“Pulling up the live street cam footage now.”

On Tony’s helmet screen appear the live feed of you, in a white and black masked suit, tying up a man with spider webs. FRIDAY had already changed the suit’s direction without Tony’s orders. Tony was interested in the situation, noticing how there was a clearly distraught woman against the wall of the alleyway you were in.

“Is there any way we could get some audio, FRI?” Tony wondered.

“I tried, boss,” FRIDAY informed. “Unfortunately, the audio is unavailable.”

“Park the suit around the corner or on the roof of a building. I want to observe the situation.”

“You got it.”

FRIDAY parked the suit on the edge of a nearby rooftop. Tony looked down on the scene.

“The cops are on their way,” you informed, voice slightly muffled by your mask. “And the two I called don’t particularly like rapists.”

The man you had tied up in a web, tried to speak but you quickly shot a web out of your wrist and covered his mouth.

“I can’t hear you,” you taunted. You turned around and went over to the frightened woman. “Are you alright?” 

“Y—yes,” the woman shuttered as she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course. The police should be here any second. They both are understanding women and will get you the help you need.”

“Okay.”

You turned around and shot another web around the man’s ankles and then another at his wrists. “He’s not going anywhere. You’re safe.” You could hear the sirens on their way. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Wait! I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t have one. And that’s alright. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You shot a web up at the edge of the roof and swung up onto the roof, disappearing from the view of the alley. Tony, now on the same roof as you, watched as you crouched down and peeked over the edge. You didn’t move as the police showed up and took care of the man and woman. Letting out a sigh of relief, you went to pull off your mask but you stopped yourself when you felt like you were being watched. Looking to the side you realized that Iron Man was staring right at you.

“Impressive,” he complimented through the suit.

“Thanks,” you responded, swallowing nervously. “What brings you around these parts, Iron Man? A little far from your glamorous tower, aren’t you?”

“You are actually the reason I’m out and about tonight.”

“What? Why?”

"You’ve caught our team’s attention and we’ve been tasked to bring you in for evaluation.”

“Really? That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, so if you don’t mind swinging over to the tower, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“I’m not interested in being a part of your team. I really only do this as a hobby. Besides, your team doesn’t solve the little everyday problems that need to be taken care of. Someone’s got to help with those.”

“And you think you’re the one to do that?”

“Well, you clearly aren’t.”

Tony smirked inside the helmet, secretly enjoying the banter the two of you were getting into.

“Now,” you continued, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more people to take care of.”

“Hold up,” Tony took a step toward you. “You aren’t going anywhere but with me to the tower.”

“No thanks.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah,” you shook your head, “I’m not so sure about that.”

You jumped up, doing a flip over Iron Man while tying him up with your webs. You knew that it wouldn’t hold him but you needed time to get away.

“See ya around, Tin Man.” 

Tony could hear the smirk as you spoke before disappearing between two buildings. He was quick to free himself from the webs and try to follow after you. You were already a few blocks away, using the buildings and your webs to swing further. Tony had his suit pick up speed as you turned a corner. Before he could catch up, you threw yourself into your open apartment window. You crawled up onto the ceiling and held yourself there until you heard Iron Man zoom past you. 

When you felt safe, you dropped yourself onto your bed and tore off your mask.

“That was a close one,” you breathed out.

~~~

Tony searched all night for a sign of you. Even with FRIDAY’s help, he couldn’t find you. He went back to the tower with nothing but that little interaction with you and a few webs still stuck to his suit. He immediately threw himself into his lab to study the webs. Tony was now fighting the urge to find you, not because of Fury but because he wanted to actually get to know you. To him, there was an undeniable connection as the two of you spoke. He was going to find you, whatever it took.

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[zorilleerrant]

Hello, I saw you say that you'd be willing to take SteveTony prompts? If it's not too much trouble, can you do no one believes they're dating?

When does this take place in the timeline? Listen. Don't worry about it. We'll fix it in post. Humor, little bit of fluff. 2k.

“Oh, Captain America!” the teacher says, surprising Steve into an awkward smile. She twirls her hair self-consciously just the slightest bit, and then clears her throat and gives him a professional nod. “Sorry, do you have a meeting here or something?”

Steve opens his mouth, closes it again, and dithers a little bit over what to say. “I’m here for Peter Parker?” Is it awkward? he wonders, watching the teacher’s grin turn into a frown, as she looks around for her student. Maybe it is. Tony picks him up often enough, but Steve isn’t so much the step-dad as the step-mentor, and that isn’t really a thing, so it’s probably normal that she’s confused.

Thankfully, that’s the moment Peter chooses to walk up to them, say, “hey, Steve,” and take advantage of Steve’s enhanced reflexes to corner him into both a hi and low five. “I’m at Stark Industries again, today,” Peter reminds his teacher, saving Steve from that explanation to both his and the teacher’s grateful looks.

“Of course, right, you’re teammates with Mr. Stark,” the teacher says, and writes something on her clipboard, and waves a friendly goodbye to them as she turns back to the rest of the students.

“She’s keeping track of our community service,” Peter explains, which, unfortunately, doesn’t help Steve understand at all. “A lot of people fake their hours, apparently? So we have to do, like, regular check-ins.” He gives Steve a look like he shouldn’t have to explain all of this, and Steve can’t even be sure if it’s the kind of look that people are meant to give him for being a little out of his time, or if it’s just the teenager thing. He gave those looks, often enough.

“I thought you had Tony sign something for that?” Steve says. He is paying attention, it’s just that he isn’t working on developing any of their prosthetic limbs, and won’t be until Tony comes to him, frazzled in the middle of the night, muttering about how he can’t get skin tones to look right in the rubber, and how most of them look a little too gray. That Steve will be happy to talk him through, one of these days. “Anyway, I just assumed your school would be a little more progressive than it was back there.”

“Oh, yeah, they thought it might be forged, probably because I forged it. Mr. Stark always forgets to sign stuff,” Peter tells him, doing some sort of jump and half flip across a mailbox as they turn the corner to the garage. At a Look, he doesn’t do the same to any of the cars. “What wasn’t progressive?”

“Well, she called Tony my teammate,” Steve says, then considers it for a moment. She also called him Captain America, though, so it isn’t like the Avengers weren’t on her mind. Maybe he’s reading too much into things. It’s not like everyone follows his love life in the scandal sheets. He doesn’t either; he wouldn’t even know what they’ve said.

“Um, that is your teammate, unless you’ve decided to have another war no one told me about,” Peter says, and then looks at him anxiously enough that Steve has to refrain from patting him on the head. No teenager wants to be treated like a small dog in a lightning storm, especially not the small ones. “Right?”

“Right,” Steve agrees, getting Peter to relax enough to actually get in the car. Well, what did he expect her to say? Boyfriend sounds so immature and partner is probably presumptuous at this stage, at least coming from a stranger. He doesn’t know what he would say under the circumstances, either, so, well, it’s probably fine. “I guess at least she didn’t call me your step-dad. Your teachers don’t think Tony is secretly your dad anymore, right?” Steve double-checks.

“Ha! No,” Peter says. Steve makes sure they’re both buckled up before he starts the car, and heads out of the city, hoping traffic will decide to be elsewhere so they can get on the open road. “Wait, are you and Tony finally dating? How many dates have you been on? Did someone take your picture at dinner or something?”

“What do you mean finally,” Steve says, looking skeptically at the kid, “we’ve been dating for more than a year, now. You knew this.”

“I didn’t know this! Don’t tell me what I know! If I knew I would’ve made you an anniversary card,” Peter says, a little wistfully, shaking his head. “I’ve got this great shot of, like, two squirrels, where, if we’re being honest, they were probably fighting over that nut, but still. And you guys fight all the time, so it would be fine.”

“We do not fight all the time!” Steve says, aghast. It’s one thing for Peter to take it in stride, but he thought Peter took the relationship in stride a year ago, when they told everyone, and also the news. Do people think they fight all the time? What exactly are the other Avengers telling the kid to make him think that?

“No, you totally had that showdown one time,” Peter disagrees. Beaming, he adds, “I punched you in the face!”

“Everyone punched everyone in the face!” Steve says, taking deep, even breaths so he doesn’t drive them off the road, “that’s not how our relationship is!”

“Well, I hope not, because that had way too many governments involved,” Peter says, pulling his phone out of his backpack and composing messages to someone. “Not to sound too much like a hippie, but I was raised to believe the government should stay out of people’s relationships anyway, you know? I wouldn’t like them in mine. So, what, like, three dates? Or haven’t you had your first one, yet?”

“A year,” Steve says again, and they proceed to argue back and forth for what would otherwise feel like a much shorter drive to the practice arena.

Steve would usually feel the need to open the door for the kid, even though car doors are easy now and even really little kids don’t have trouble with them. But Peter’s still halfway convinced they haven’t been dating long at all, and insisting he’s going to call Tony for confirmation. (He hasn’t, yet. Whoever he’s been texting ‘agrees with him’, and therefore can’t be Tony, unless Steve’s really confused.)

“Can someone here please convince Peter that I would know if my relationship were brand new,” Steve says, leaving every door flung open on his way inside. Natasha looks up at him in amusement, puts her gun back together by feel, and gives him that quirked eyebrow that invites him to elaborate. “The kid thinks we’ve only been dating days, if that.”

Tossing a glance over her shoulder at Peter, Natasha turns back to ask, “who does he think you’re dating? Or not dating, I guess.” She doesn’t even wait until he’s all the way in the locker room to ask, so they’re both treated to an eyeroll.

Steve slaps a towel angrily on one of the weight machines, and then has to rearrange it more gently so it doesn’t fall off. “Tony. Peter says we’re adorable and he would know better than I would whether we’re dating.” The weight machine is already set to Steve’s standard, and he realizes that they’ve all gravitated towards favorites in this gym. Possibly they should do something about that? To vary up their training.

“Oh, well, yeah,” Natasha says, tugging on the lever to start the climbing tower’s ascent so Peter can practice on it. It starts whirring to life, giving Steve a minute to think Natasha’s about to comfort him before it quiets down and she adds, “the kid thinks you two are cute, and I can see why. I’m sure he doesn’t mean any harm in claiming you’re dating.”

“We are dating,” Steve says, plaintively, suddenly concerned he’s somehow in a coma and only dreamt every bit of it. Long walks on the beach are a standard, right? Holding hands as they frolicked across the sand could be pure imagination. Luxurious candlelit dinners, well, he can remember how everything tasted, but Steve easily could’ve eaten that food by himself, lit his own candles, only wished Tony could be there. Did he imagine all the soft words?

For a moment, he’s slightly worried he’s still inside that terrible machine, waiting to see if he can be reforged into a weapon, and dreaming endlessly instead.

“Well, finally,” Natasha says, clapping him on the back hard enough to jolt Steve out of his reverie. She flashes him an approving grin, and it settles into a real smile. She takes the bench next to his – well, she sits on it, anyway – and says, “I’ve been waiting to see how long it would take you. You two are so stubborn, even with all of our hints.”

“Stubborn?” Steve says, incredulously. He manages to drop the weights with a clang, and be glad he isn’t using free weights after all. “We’ve been dating. We’ve been dating for a year. We announced it officially!” It’s tempting to hang his head in his hands, but Steve’s never one to give up without a fight, so he steels himself, and tugs against the weights again. They move slowly as he tries to be methodical.

“Wait, what? I thought that was a publicity stunt,” Natasha says, bending backwards to call out, “Clint! Wasn’t the Steve and Tony thing a publicity stunt?” At Steve’s incensed look, she shrugs unabashedly and makes a vague gesture that isn’t anything like an apology. “They were doing that for political reasons, right?”

“Right,” Clint agrees, pulling down free weights and taking a seat near them. His form is way too show-offy. Steve is convinced he spends his spare time using tiny weights on his fingers to get his arm muscles to look just right, but Steve may just be angry Natasha’s convinced him that his relationship is some kind of sham marriage. “For Pride Month.”

“For Pride Month!” Steve repeats, unable to form a response even inside his own mind. They orchestrated an entire pretend relationship for – well, honestly, he doesn’t even know what for. Would that even be useful? What isn’t useful is angrily tugging at his weights, but he can’t think of anything better to do. Clint is curling his little free weights, and Natasha looks half asleep in a handstand dead center on the nearby mat, and Peter’s already jumped up to the top of the climbing tower as it continues slowly moving higher, which is cheating.

It’s long minutes before Steve can think again. Long enough minutes that the irritation has cooled into something like dry amusement, and his weights have warmed him up enough to add more to them, starting to feel that nice itch in his muscles. So he’s only reminded that he’s supposed to be annoyed when Tony walks up to him and sweeps him into a kiss – a relief to the slight part of him that was convinced he really did make some of this up. Although, to be fair, he thinks that’s the same romantic part of him that always enjoys making googly eyes at Tony from across the room, even after a year, even minutes after the last googly eyes.

“Uh oh,” Tony says, taking a step back, “am I in trouble?” Of course, Steve’s already busy gazing at him fondly, and Tony’s expression softens, too. They could probably live lifetimes in each other’s eyes loudly enough to annoy everyone around them.

Which reminds Steve, “why do all these unobservant jerks who claim to be our teammates think that we aren’t dating?” He takes a moment to step closer to Tony, so he can cling a little to his tank top, something that always seems like it should be intimate and sweet, but is really better done before anyone starts to exercise too hard. Bending their heads together to touch softly at the temple is also better done before anyone has a chance to work up a sweat, and Tony kisses him thoroughly for it.

“They what?” Tony asks, through the middle of the kiss, arm coming up around Steve’s back to pull him closer. Tony runs a thumb across Steve’s jaw even as he looks around at everyone else, “they think we’re not dating?”

“You guys want to start dating?” another voice booms from the doorway, as a second adds, “this is joyful news!”

Tony, to Steve’s relief, stares just as incredulously at the newcomers as Steve would, if he hadn’t sat back down heavily on the bench so he could press his face against Tony’s stomach and heave sobs that are only half faked. Come to think of it, a lot of conversations are making more sense now. Or less sense, given that he didn’t think they were being secret.

Tony’s laughter rumbles against Steve’s head. “I knew the news didn’t quite believe us, but, you guys. You guys. Come on.” He tugs Steve’s chin up again, and gives him a soft kiss, just a peck, really. It’s the look that really does it. There’s nothing tentative about the way they meet each other’s eyes; it’s a trust built over many, many conversations about their hopes, and their worries, and nothing at all.

Yet another person calling finally echoes across the room.

[cowboyhorsegirl]

Why do you think the MCU made an ults adaptation instead of a 616 adaptation? I have some theories but lmk know what you think of this conundrum

This is such an interesting question!! I will preface this by saying that I haven't yet read a lot of Ults or 616, and a lot of what I've learned of canon has been gained through osmosis from other, much more knowledgeable people in the fandom (@sineala, I'd love to hear your take on this ask!). That being said though, I think the main reasons why the MCU was adapted primarily from Ults instead of from 616 was because:

Ults had less canon to work with than 616, so it's a bit easier to ascertain a linear narrative that hasn't been rewritten and retconned multiple times. (For example, in 616 Tony had originally helped found SHIELD; this was completely retconned later on.)

Ults isn't as fantastical as 616, or as we all say colloquially, Ults is the grittier, 'more realistic' version of events that happened in 616. This would be particularly beneficial for a live-action remake, where the commonly held industry thinking is that audiences don't have as high a capacity to suspend their disbelief as they might for animation or live theater. The realism of the medium would necessitate a more grounded comics canon to build off of.

Ults origin stories lend themselves to the strategic vision of MCU Phase 1 much better than 616 origins. I think this is most apparent with Steve's origin: in 616 he was discovered only by the Avengers whereas in Ults, Steve was found by SHIELD (though I believe some of the other Ultimates were also there). I imagine this version of events would be much easier to tweak so that each member of the MCU Avengers had their own separate movie establishing background and characterization before throwing them into a very busy ensemble cast.

I don't actually think that all of these reasons for choosing Ults as the main canon to base the MCU on ended up working in the MCU's favor though. Like, Iron Man 1 is clearly set within some sort of nebulous Middle Eastern conflict that the US is involved in, for a variety of reasons. This conflict would have been easily recognizable to American audiences in 2008: at the time, the US has been in war in Afghanistan since 2001 and in Iraq since 2003. You don't have to waste precious movie minutes establishing a war for Tony to be making weapons for when American audiences are already primed to fill in the blanks if you give them the implication of a war in the ME. The setup of a vague Middle Eastern war acts as cinematic shorthand to establish Tony Stark's background and character to a broad audience, and to the many who hadn't read any Iron Man or Avengers comics, this was their first introduction to Tony Stark's origin story. Additionally, the setting acts as a plausible 1:1 retelling of Tony's original introduction in 616 (elements such as Yinsen, the life-threatening shrapnel to his chest, and Tony inventing the Iron Man suit instead of building weaponry for the terrorists who had taken him captive are all taken directly from his 1960s origin story), revamped for 21st century moviegoers by changing the indeterminate Southeast Asian war from the 1960s comics to an indeterminate Middle Eastern war for the MCU.

However, you literally never see MCU movies dedicate themselves to this level of realism again, for good reason. Whatever cultural shorthand you draw on by placing Tony Stark's weapons-manufacturing backstory in the context of an actual real-life geopolitical conflict also comes with the baggage of all the Islamophobia, xenophobia, and imperialism that comes with that conflict. In Iron Man 1, the inciting incident that causes Tony to want to halt SI's weapons production is the fact that his weapons are being used by the terrorists to harm American soldiers. But what about all the hundreds of thousands of innocent Middle Eastern people your weapons harmed and killed Tony?? What about them, huh?! What about the instability that America has wrought in the region, Tony, backing up political capital with firepower that YOU provided to them??

Immediately, the MCU backs off of America's actual real-life military operations as a basis for their fictional world. I like to think that they did this because they realized that it's very difficult to make your billionaire weapons-manufacturer superhero sympathetic in a world where both billionaires and the American military are coming under more scrutiny by more people every day. I'll guess that the real reason has to do with the fact that those story elements made it much harder to sell international audiences on the franchise.

It's frustrating too, because to this day I would say that Iron Man 1 is one of the best MCU movies out there, but in my opinion, the reasons for this aren't that IM1 was the most realistic or the most plausible or the most grounded superhero movie. What drew me to the MCU in the first place was the emotional depth of the characters and the stories, a depth that I think is best exemplified in Tony Stark. As the MCU moved forward and began to (but never fully) shed it's commitment to realism, the movies started to lose their ability to tell emotionally-compelling stories with high stakes that actually leave you in suspense of the ending. The fatal flaw of the MCU is in believing that audiences don't have the capacity to accept emotionality in stories that aren't limited to the bounds of our reality, when the whole point of a superhero story is to challenge ourselves to imagine more fantastical worlds than our own.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Sara Boboltz and Ryan Grenoble at HuffPost:

Stormy Daniels, the porn actor who maintains she once had an affair with former President Donald Trump, took the stand Tuesday in his New York criminal trial.

Daniels’ testimony is expected to be key to the prosecution’s case against Trump, who is accused of falsifying New York state business records to conceal a hush money payment to her in the days before the 2016 presidential election. Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg and his office have argued that this payment was made to influence the outcome of the election, meaning Trump could potentially be convicted of felonies and sentenced to prison. Trump looked away from the witness stand as she began speaking, staring instead at the monitor in front of him that showed her testifying. Asked if she could identify Trump in the courtroom Tuesday, Daniels extended her right arm and pointer finger in his direction. From the stand, Daniels recalled that she and other adult film stars met Trump at a celebrity golf tournament held near Lake Tahoe in 2006. She and Trump had two casual encounters in passing, she said; later, his security guard approached and asked if she’d like to have dinner with Trump.

Her initial response to the invite: “F no.” Then, clarifying for jurors: “No, but with an expletive in front.” After chatting with her publicist, she said, she reconsidered dinner with Trump. Plus, she said, it would be a “really good excuse” to skip a work-related function she didn’t want to attend. “What could go wrong?” she recalled telling a friend of the invite. Daniels said she “didn’t really have any expectations” about the dinner, except that she would meet Trump at his hotel room before going down to a restaurant. She recalled the foyer of Trump’s penthouse room having a black-and-white tile floor and a “beautiful wood table” with a “big flower arrangement” on top. “This hotel room was three times the size of my apartment,” she said. Trump answered the door in “silk or satin” pajamas, prompting her to make fun of him.

“Does Hugh Hefner know you stole his pajamas?” she asked. She said he “very politely” agreed to change his clothes. Later, seated at the dining room table, she told him about her childhood and career, she said. “He was very interested in a lot of the business aspects of [the adult film industry], which I thought was very cool,” Daniels testified. “These were very thought-out business questions,” she said, in stark contrast to what most people ask about, like “the sexy stuff, the dirty stuff, they want to know the salacious things.” Daniels, impatient for dinner, interrupted Trump while he talked endlessly about himself and showed off a copy of a new magazine that featured him. “Are you always this rude?” Daniels said she told Trump. “You don’t even know how to have a conversation,” she recalled telling him. Daniels said she told Trump that someone should “slap” him with the magazine, and he ended up allowing her to do so “right on the butt.” Trump’s demeanor relaxed afterward, she said. [...]

She said the two had sex and kept the recollection brief at the urging of Judge Juan Merchan. Upon mention of the “missionary position,” an attorney for the defense voiced an objection, which Merchan sustained. Daniels said Trump was not wearing a condom. She stared up at the ceiling during the encounter. Upon her departure, Trump called her “honeybunch,” she testified, adding that he suggested they meet up again soon. The two never ended up actually eating dinner. Daniels said Trump kept calling her afterward, however, and dangled an “Apprentice” opportunity that kept her interested.

A brief 2007 meeting at Trump Tower about a potential “Apprentice” appearance didn’t bear fruit. The two saw each other once more in person, she said, in Los Angeles that summer. He propositioned her for sex again and she declined, telling jurors she felt “ashamed” of the earlier encounter. In 2011, In Touch magazine expressed interest in a story about her relationship with Trump, she said. While the magazine didn’t publish anything, it did lead to a threatening encounter with a man in a Las Vegas parking lot who, she said, “threatened me not to continue to tell my story.” Earlier in the trial, jurors heard testimony from David Pecker, former head of National Enquirer publisher American Media Inc., about how he agreed to use his tabloid empire to help Trump’s campaign in 2015 and 2016. Part of that agreement meant keeping an eye on the “marketplace” of scandalous stories for anything that could damage Trump and his candidacy. While traditional media eschews so-called “checkbook journalism,” Pecker said, his outlets commonly paid cash for story rights.

Stormy Daniels, whose real name is Stephanie Clifford, testified in the People of New York v. Trump business records falsification/election interference trial today.

Daniels’s testimony reveals what we know: Donald Trump is a perverted creep and a sexual assaulter.

[themculibrary]

Homeless Bucky Masterlist

A Life Near By (ao3) - Queerily_kai steve/bucky G, 7k

Summary: Bucky may have snuck away after saving Captain America from the Potomac, but he didn't go far. He needed answers, and this Steve guy seemed to have them, so he did the last thing anyone would have expected, hiding out in the middle of Washington, DC while working on answering the most important question.

Who the hell was Bucky, and why was he so important to this Captain America guy anyway?

A Place to Stay (ao3) - sarahyellow steve/bucky E, 23k

Summary: Homeless and weary, Bucky Barnes just wants a guarantee of safety. But as Darcy points out: It's hard to pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you don't have any bootstraps.

Opening a vein for Steve Rogers is all he's got left.

Coming Home For Christmas (ao3) - Chiyume steve/bucky E, 118k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a good man. His friends have told him so on numerous occasions, but this might actually be more bordering on "stupid" rather than "kind".

Because what else would you describe the act of inviting a complete stranger - and thief - into your home over the Holidays?

Steve isn't quite sure what to call it himself, but fact is that when it comes to the case of Bucky Barnes, Steve's actually pretty okay with being referred to as an idiot, as long as it keep the other man safe. And to Steve's defence, it had all started out with such good intentions...

For Words to Say It Right (ao3) - Squeaky, Taste_is_Sweet steve/bucky, bruce/natasha, clint/laura T, 25k

Summary: Turns out when you're missing an arm, everyone asks are you okay? all the damn time. And when your soulmark is one of the most common questions in English, it's even worse.

Generic soulmarks are a bitch.

Gimme Shelter (ao3) - humapuma steve/bucky E, 84k

Summary: James "Bucky" Barnes is a homeless veteran with a dark past. He's accepted to a six-month shelter program meant to help veterans get back on their feet, and he has his work cut out for him. He needs to find a job, save up money, and hopefully get his own place, but he keeps getting sidetracked by his attraction to Steve Rogers, one of the therapists in the program.

Steve is kind, smart, funny, and clearly in a relationship... but Bucky can't help feeling that Steve is interested in him too.

More issues arise when Bucky's past deeds begin to impact his future and the things he wants aren't something he feels he deserves.

Can he begin to heal himself so he can finally live?

Or will he let the life he left behind destroy what he could be... and what he could have?

Going Through (ao3) - Taste_is_Sweet pre steve/bucky G, 2k

Summary: Bucky wasn't quite sure what to do with the extremely angry fairy he rescued from the group of Make Humanity Great Again! assholes who'd been trying to suffocate him in a jar.

No Enemy But Winter (ao3) - rubygirl29 steve/bucky E, 10k

Summary: "You know there is a homeless guy in the alley next to this hellhole you insist on living in," Tony comes through Steve's open door, stripping off his gloves and looking generally dissatisfied with life.

"There are a lot of homeless people, Tony, even in Manhattan."

"This one has a suspiciously nice blanket and his hands are wrapped around a Stark Industries thermos - the one I give my employees. He's probably drinking that gourmet coffee I also give my employees. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

Sour as Vinegar, Sweet as Honey (ao3) - Call_Me_Kayyyyy (Cheeky9274), thiccbuckybarnes steve/bucky, past bucky/brock E, 46k

Summary: “Hello?” Steve asks, hiding his gun behind him as he steps out into the snow and down the few stairs to the ground level. It is already snowing hard, but it will continue well into the next few days, building up several feet. It’s already five or six inches high, and a light layer of it is dusting the person crumpled up in his alley.

“Excuse me, but this is private property,” Steve says to them, feeling adrenaline start to pump through him at the lack of response. He scents the air and only finds that indescribable smell of cold.

“Sir, the individual appears to be unconscious,” JARVIS informs him.

-

Commander Rogers is getting ready to hunker down for what is expected to be the worst blizzard that New York has ever seen when JARVIS alerts him of an intruder on his doorstep.

He figures he’s going to find someone looking for trouble, but instead finds an omega in trouble, and they’re running from more than just the cold.

subways and soup kitchens (ao3) - crazywineaunt steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Steve sleeps past the last stop on the subway.

Tap-Tap Into Your Heart (ao3) - Huntress79 steve/bucky, background sam/riley T, 5k

Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning...

Wenceslas (ao3) - dragongirlG, velociraptorerin steve/bucky M, 17k

Summary: Steve is a short, skinny Brooklynite with a very stable, predictable life, which he built after losing his memories in a traumatic accident six months ago. He works from home on a steady stream of art commissions, goes to weekly trivia nights with his superhero friends the Avengers, and tries not to get bothered by the constant feeling that something is not quite right.

When Steve invites a homeless man with one arm to take shelter in his apartment during a December snowstorm, both of them enter a dreamscape that unravels the fabric of their memories and reveals the truth about their identities—and their relationship to each other.

A wintertime fic featuring dream-sharing, identity porn, and Steve in the 21st century, inspired by the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the musical composition Wenceslas Suite by Bob Chilcott. Now complete!

we're up all night to get lucky (ao3) - idekman steve/bucky N/R, 1k

Summary: Then there's the dog.

He's not sure how you can make friends with a dog, but he's fairly sure he's managed it.

-

The Winter Soldier is homeless, but Bucky Barnes' Super Secret New York support group are on hand to help him out. Also, there's a dog.

What Stays and What Fades Away (ao3) - Golden_Archer G, 39k

Summary: Steve can’t sleep, the guilt and pain eating him alive, leaving him empty and drained. But when he coincidentally stumbles into Bucky on one rainy freezing night, he must do whatever he can to save his sick and starving friend. He will not let him down again, he can’t.

Why do we fall (ao3) - inkandwolves M, 4k

Summary: After D.C., the Winter Soldier goes home, the long way 'round.