#i could go on about how i think clint is a weirdo and the most out of touch guy

[mastcrmarksman]

I refuse to believe that Clint is aware of pop culture and current social media trends or anything. He's only has a obscure and ancient references only. He may have been born in thus time, but this guy did not have cable TV for two decades. He was orphaned at seven and went to a Catholic orphanage, and then was on the road as a performer until the age of twenty two when he joined the Avengers. He does in fact live under a rock and the most TV he has watched is Dog Cops and British Bake off, he collects laser discs because he never got any other trend than that. The Avengers are sololy the reason he truly knows anything.

So really whatever weird taste that the other Avengers had? That's his. Whatever Hank and Jan's media knowledge. Wanda and Pietro? Simon Williams is responsible for Clint seeing movies and even then he lies to Simon that he has seen it.

Yes he is on his 20 something rewatch of Dog Cops. Yes he thinks House of Dragon is some kind of reference to a Fin Fang Foom fight.

[marvelship-oneshots]

SNOWED IN (STONY)

HI! this is my first fill for the "Snowed in" square of the Stony Trope and AU bingo by @therollingstonys hope you like it!

Where Steve goes to Tony's place to study, but it suddenly starts snowing and and they find themselves stuck in the house for the entire weekend. [3.9k words]

Steve hated everything that had something to do with math. Or science, for that matter. He was passionate about art, literature, languages and he could work his way around sports, but math, physics or biology were subjects that he couldn’t understand, no matter how much he tried to. It was not like he would need them in his future, as he decided to go to culinary school after graduating high school. But he needed the grades, unfortunately.

Steve sat in the empty study room of his school and took out of his backpack his very big algebra book. On the cover, there were a bunch of smiling students. But Steve was not smiling. He actually wanted to scream and tear apart the book just from looking at him.

He hesitated, contemplating giving up, before actually opening the book and diving into the impossibly difficult exercises.

The door of the room opened and a breathless student came running in. He hid behind Steve, sitting on the floor. It took him two seconds and Steve barely saw his face, but he could recognize him from his messy hair and his singular perfume. Cologne and cigarettes. That student was undoubtedly Tony Stark, the richest, most popular student of the school. But if asked Steve, Tony was his first, real crush.

Tony was just a sophomore and wasn't part of any sports team, but nonetheless, he was the most envied student of the school. Those who didn’t want to be with him wanted to be him. Steve was part of the first category but gave up hope a long time ago.

“Please, please, I beg of you, act like I’m not here”

Yeah, easy to say when Tony couldn’t feel Steve’s heart beating a hundred miles per hour. Or see his pale cheeks now turned red. Or the knot in his throat because that was the first time ever they were even in the same room, that they both know of.

If asked, Steve would deny that he knew exactly which was Tony’s favourite restroom, which were Tony’s least favourite classes, that he would ditch for the better part of the lesson to wander in the corridors, or which was the best table at lunch to see Tony best. Bucky, Sam and Wanda wouldn’t be of the same opinion, though.

The door opened again and Steve looked up from his textbook, watching as Clint stepped in and looked around.

“He’s not here, is he?”

Steve frowned.

“Who’s not here?”

He would have known who Clint was talking about even if Tony wasn’t hiding behind his chair.

Clint huffed and closed the door shut.

“Are they gone?” Tony asked in a whisper.

“Yes”

“Thank you for creating a safe place for me, man. Knowing that dum dum, they won’t be back for a while” Tony said sitting on the chair next to Steve.

Steve tried to ignore his presence and definitely not to look at him, but it became more difficult when Tony moved his chair closer to Steve’s to take a look at the book.

“Uh but that’s easy” Tony mumbled before starting to explain how to do the exercises.

Soon enough, maths started making sense for Steve.

“How do you even know this? This is senior years stuff and you’re like”

“A sophomore, yeah I know” Tony cut Steve short “I guess the genius runs in the family”

Steve scoffed, shaking his head, moving on to the next exercise.

“Can I ask you something?”

Tony nodded, without looking up.

“What was that all about?”

Tony looked up.

“Oh I asked Natasha on a date on Friday and Clint didn’t take it well”

Steve didn’t take it well either. He felt a pinch of jealousy eating his guts, but he just smiled and nodded, going back to the exercise Tony working on.

“Listen, man, if you want I can help you with all of these shit subjects” Tony said, standing up, before walking out of the study room.

“Yeah no, it’s really not necessary”

“Oh, I insist. I’ll bring my notes on Monday”

Steve rolled his eyes. That day he understood that Tony didn’t like taking a no for an answer.

“‘Right. See you on Monday then,...” Tony hesitated, completely forgetting to ask for his name.

“Oh, it’s Steve”

“Right Steve” Steve could feel the engines in Tony’s head working.

“I’m Tony, by the way”

Steve smiled. “I know”

Tony looked at Steve as if he was crazy and walked out.

“Are you for real? He introduced himself and you replied ‘I know’?” Bucky asked, a little too louder for Steve’s taste and slapping him on the back of his head.

Steve had his head buried in his arms on the table of the canteen and growled. He had slapped himself several times since that day, but he didn’t have the chance to tell his friends.

“What the hell is wrong with you man?” Sam rolled his eyes “You were supposed to say, I don’t know, nice to meet you or something, definitely not I know”

“He’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Or a stalker”

“Yes, he will dude” Wanda replied, patting on his shoulder.

“Stevie, incoming, get up” Bucky warned, seeing Tony walking towards them.

“Tell Sharon I don’t want to talk to her”

“Well, I hope you’ll want to talk to me”

Steve’s head tilted up, recognising Tony’s voice, and kicked Bucky under the table for not being too specific.

“Yeah, uhm. Sorry, hi”

Tony took something from his backpack and laid on the table an enormous folder, separated into four big sections by coloured sticky notes.

“Here, the notes I talked to you about the other day”

“You just had all of these notes laying around?”

Tony shook his head, proudly.

“Nope made them all just for you”

Steve looked at Tony and then at Bucky, hoping he could read the brunet better than he could.

“I didn’t want to bother you with notes you already had, let alone making them just for me”

“You didn’t and will never bother me, Steve-o”

Steve blushed, looking away as fast as he could”

“I’m Tony by the way. Or did you already know that too?”

Tony held out his hand to Sam, who shook it forcefully. Wanda and Bucky loudly chuckled. Steve sent a deadly stare on Wanda’s way and kicked Bucky on his ankle.

Steve took the hint when Tony sat more comfortably on the bench next to him, stealing some fries from his lunch trail, and Bucky elbowed him in the ribs, in a clear final to start a conversation.

“So… how was your date?”

“Excuse me?” Tony stopped to look at Steve with a fry still mid-air “What date?”

Steve looked at Bucky and Sam, begging to help him out, but they were both too busy staring into each other’s eyes to notice.

“Your date with Natasha”

Wanda crossed her arms in front of her, eager to see where this was going and Tony looked perplexed.

“Yeah, you know, you told me that you asked her out and your friend was mad about it”

And I was mad about it, Steve thought but didn’t add anything.

“Oh that. Ok, no, you got it all wrong”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I did ask her out just because Barton had been talking about her forever and didn’t have the balls to do it themselves”

Steve blushed and Wanda had to turn away. If Tony hadn’t been there, she would have burst out laughing in Steve’s face, but she was a good enough friend not to embarrass him in front of his crush anymore than he already was.

“Glad we cleared that out but now I have to go. I will pick you up on Friday after school. Pack an overnight bag and your books, you're in for an intensive Stark study session” Tony declared, getting up, shoving the rest of Steve’s fries in his mouth.

“And just so you know- Tony stood beside Steve, with his hands on Steve’s broad shoulder, and whispered in his ear- I like ‘em blond, tall and oblivious”

Tony winked at Steve’s friends, who were staring at him with their mouths open, and walked away.

Steve suddenly turned red and buried his head back into his arms crossed on the table.

“What did just happened”

“Dude, I think he just asked you out AND called you oblivious” Sam replied, before the three of them burst out laughing.

Only four days passed for Friday to come, but to Steve, it felt like four years.

Steve walked out of the school, waiting for Tony in the parking lot. He leaned against a metal fence, talking to his friends.

“Oh c’mon Wanda, you’re ditching us too?” Sam whined after Wands told them she couldn't make it to their usual videogame afternoon. Steve knew why, no one in the right state of mind would want to third wheel for Sam and Bucky.

Bucky put an arm behind Sam’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.

“This means that we have the house to ourselves” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, before shoving his tongue into his boyfriend's mouth.

“Disgusting” Steve growled, looking away.

“Alright, I’m out of here” Wanda said, smacking a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss and lightly hugged Wanda, before turning to Steve.

“Pot, kettle. You’re the one here with a three-days-date with mr playboy”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“He’s two years younger, Bucky. Two years”

Tony pulled up in front of the three in a bright orange AUDI and honked twice to get Steve’s attention. Steve opened the door and sat in the seat next to Tony. Before he managed to close the door, Sam and Bucky started making obscene gestures and sounds.

“Drive away, Tony, for the love of God” Steve mumbled, turning to secure the seat belt and flipping off his friends from the car window.

The car ride was silent, not out of embarrassment, but because they didn’t have anything to talk about. Maybe they would have found something of common interest if either one of them had the balls to start a conversation. Which was weird because usually, Tony couldn’t shut up to save his life.

They were going in the opposite direction from Tony’s house and Steve wanted to ask why, but he wasn’t supposed to know where Tony lived and didn’t want to look like a stalker.

Eventually, they arrived in a large private parking lot. They both jumped out of the car and took all of the bags from the car. Tony had an incredible amount of things for a two-days-steak out, and Steve offered to carry some of the bags.

“You’re my knight in shining armour” Tony said with a smile that went from ear to ear and Steve’s heart almost skipped a beat.

Then, they both walked for 15 minutes until they arrived at a luxurious cabin. Tony kicked the mat, revealing the key and opened the door, letting all of the bags fall in the middle of the big corridor.

Steve helped Tony put away the groceries after dinner and then brought out his books. Tony returned from the toilet with a box of Monopoly.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tony asked, looking at Steve and the mountain of books on the kitchen table.

“I thought we came here to stu- Steve cut himself short after seeing Tony’s expression- never mind” he finished, putting the books back in the backpack.

“Dude- Tony slammed a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses on the table- it’s Friday night. We’ll think of the shitty stuff tomorrow”

Tony laid on the table the cardboard and divided the money between the two of them.

“So. You’ve heard of Monopoly, but have you ever played drunk Monopoly?”

Steve shook his head.

“Every time you land on someone else property, you chug one shot, if you go to prison, it’s three for every turn you spend in it”

Steve’s eyes widened. That was going to be a lot of alcohol, especially for someone who hadn’t even tried beer yet. But he nodded anyway because, well, Tony.

After they finished the first round around the board, Steve threw the dice and landed on Tony’s property. Tony smirked and poured vodka in one glass and slid it to Steve. Steve looked at the glass and then at Tony, with a disgusted expression.

“Down in one sip, it’s not as bad as it seems”

Steve brought the glass closer to his nose, smelling the piercing smell of alcohol, he closed his eyes and drank in one chug. He felt like his throat was on fire, but after a couple of rounds, it was like chugging water.

They were both lightheaded and had ditched Monopoly to move to the couch. Tony was lying with his head on a cushion, with his legs on Steve’s lap. He poured some more vodka into the glasses and handed it to Steve. He held out his glass, letting them cling together.

“За здоровье” Tony said with a smile.

“What was that?” Steve asked, laughing.

“It’s Russian, it means ‘drink to health’”

Steve laughed, throwing his head back.

“I didn’t know you knew Russian”

“I don’t, this is the only thing I know. The only important thing to know actually”

They both laughed as Steve caressed Tony’s ankles.

“Tony, can I ask you something?”

Tony looked up.

“Where are your parents? I mean, aren’t they mad you’re here without them?”

Tony rolled his eyes and sat up. He took the bottle of vodka and drank directly from it.

“My parents don’t even know what grade I’m in. I’m going to bed now” he replied with harshness in his voice as he got up and walked to the bedroom, stumbling.

Way to go Steve.

The morning after Tony woke up to the smell of freshly made pancakes. He walked into the kitchen with a huge smile, inhaling the perfume. He gulped when he realised that Steve was the one flipping pancake, topless. He stopped by the door, admiring Steve’s perfect back muscles.

“I could kidnap you if it means I get to wake up like this every morning” Tony mumbled, sitting on the stool. Steve smiled, flipping the last pancake and sliding it on the plate. He put two blueberries and a slice of fried bacon to make a smiley face.

He slid the plate in front of Tony, who looked at Steve with a little smirk. Steve observed Tony’s face while he ate his pancake. It was like the tension of the night before had been drowned in their sleep.

Tony let out a loud moan and Steve almost spat his coffee. Tony noticed and chuckled.

“This is the shit, Steve-o” Tony screamed, sliding another stack of pancakes on his plate and drowning them in maple syrup.

They worked the whole day, without even feeling like time was passing. Steve was actually feeling like he was understanding something, which was really good.

After dinner, Tony brought out a poker set.

“Strip poker, you up for it?”

Steve tensed in the chair. Tony noticed and started to look for something in his pocket.

“I have something to ease the tension if you want to” he said, sliding a packet of weed through the table.

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I don’t- I don’t really feel comfortable, y’know, smoking it”

Tony put on a disappointed expression, putting it back in his pocket.

“I can bake it though” Steve winked at Tony, letting him put the bag in his hand.

Tony sat on the counter, swinging his legs as he licked every spoon Steve put down. He ground the weed and it to Steve, who mixed it with the batter before putting the brownies in the oven.

Tony sat on the counter, waiting for the brownies to be ready, swinging his legs in a very childish way, while Steve drew a little sketch of him on his notepad.

When the timer rang, Steve made sure to close his sketchbook before taking them out of the oven and cutting them into even squares. He put them on a plate before sitting at the kitchen table and starting mixing the deck.

Tony took a brownie and bit it, letting out a loud moan.

“Seriously, how do you do it?”

They were already high when they got into the real game. The first items to fall on the floor were the socks, then their sweatshirts and t-shirts, leaving Tony only with his boxers on. Steve still had his t-shirt.

Steve laid his card on the table, smirking at Tony.

“Those- he pointed at Tony’s briefs- have to go” he said smiling as he took the deck, mixing and handing out the cards, without taking his eyes off Tony. Tony took his sweet time getting up and started playing around with the elastic, getting it lower on his hips as he got in front of Steve, who tried to look at his cards, avoiding looking at Tony, sliding his underwear to his ankle, kicking them as far as possible.

Tony walked closer to Steve, tilting his head up with a finger from under his chin.

“Look at me, Steve-o”

Steve started with his mouth slightly open. Tony moved his chair, sitting on Steve’s lap, moving his hips on Steve’s. He took the cards from Steve’s hand, putting them down on the table.

“Let’s pretend- Tony slid his hands under Steve’s t-shirt- just for a second-he pulled the limbs of the white cotton up, moving his hips on Steve’s a bit more- that you lost this round, huh?”

Steve moaned and Tony managed to take the t-shirt away. He scooted back a little to admire Steve’s toned body until he fell ass fist on the floor. They both laughed and then Steve took a piece of brownie and kneeled over Tony. He spread the chocolate crumbles all over Tony’s chest. Smirking, he started hovering over Tony, before lowering his face and licking every last piece of cake from his skin. Tony gulped as he fell the little wet kisses on his stomach.

Once Steve stopped, Tony took the chance to turn the tables, pushing Steve on the floor. As he sat on his hips, Tony felt Steve growing harder under him. He started moving in circles, smirking as Steve started squirming under him.

“If-if you’re going to make me...cum- Steve panted- you can at least k-kiss me”

Tony chuckled, lowering himself over Steve’s face. He caressed his cheek with his thumb and then moved to his lips, brushing them, without asking his eyes away from Steve’s. Their lips barely touched before Tony stood up and went back to moving his hips on Steve's and chuckled when Steve tried to protest.

Tony’s movement became slower and slower until he felt Steve's underwear getting wet under him. He sped his movements until he released all over Steve’s chest.

Sunday was a normal, lazy Sunday. They cuddled on the sofa under a cosy blanket. To be honest, they didn’t even bother putting any clothes back on. They just kept doing their exercises in their birthday suits, teasing each other, but never going over small, wet kisses on their chests. At some point, Tony fell asleep on Steve’s chest and Steve did shortly after while stroking Tony’s hair.

When they woke up, it was already dark outside. During the afternoon it started snowing. They hoped it would stop by the time they had to leave. However, during their nap, it snowed even more violently and it didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. The road conditions were not ideal to drive back. The only thing they could do was stay right where they were.

“You don’t mind staying here until tomorrow morning, do you?” Tony asked, playing with Steve’s hand as they were watching a movie on the sofa.

“Nope, not even a little bit” Steve mumbled, smelling Tony’s hair.

The plan was fine, if only they hadn't slept through every single one of their alarms.

Tony hit Steve with a pillow, waking him up, while he jumped around trying to slide on his jeans.

“We’re fucking stupid. So fucking stupid”

Steve yawned, stretching his arms when Tony threw a shirt on his face.

“Take only the things you need and leave everything else here, we’ll take care of that later” Tony yelled, pouring coffee in a thermos and packing in a box some cookies Steve baked in the evening.

“Go, go, go, c’mon” Tony pushed Steve out of the door and down the track.

They jumped in the car and Tony started driving it out of the parking lot, humming a rock song Steve didn’t know. Steve held the thermos close to Tony, as he sipped the hot beverage with a straw.

“Cookie” he asked right before Steve handed him one.

They pulled up by the school just in time not to be late for the first lesson. Steve kissed Tony’s cheek before turning towards his classroom.

“See ya later” Tony screamed.

“Dude, what’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing at the t-shirt Steve was wearing, once they were in the corridor, after the lesson.

“What?” He asked before looking down at it. “Oh, shit. Uhm…”

Steve scratched the back of his head, realising that the shirt was a little tight and was constricting every movement.

“It’s Tony’s. We had a uhm...a nice weekend”

Tony came up from behind him, sparking him on the butt.

“I can see that” Sam chuckled on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Is that your shirt, Steve?”

Steve blushed in response.

As the group started walking away, Steve pulled Tony into a toilet, pushing him into a stall as soon as they checked that no one was in there.

Tony locked the door.

“Uhm, I like where this is going” he said with a smirk.

“Not what you’re thinking, Tony. I just need my shirt back, I’m having almost no movement here”

Tony chuckled.

“But I like yours. It’s big and cosy and it smells like you”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ok, let’s make a deal. You give me my shirt back and I’ll lend you my sweatshirt”

Tony seemed to think about that for a few seconds.

“Only if I get to hold on to it as long as I want to”

“Deal”

Eventually, Steve, with a lot of difficulties, managed to take off Tony's shirt, handing it back to its legitimate owner. Tony was starstruck by Steve’s perfect chest, although he had been seeing a hell of a lot of it in the past couple of days. Steve pulled off his shirt from Tony and wore his.

Once Tony was dressed, Steve went to open the door of the stall but Tony's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling Steve closer to him. He stood on his tiptoes, bringing their lips together.

Steve took Tony by his hips and let Tony cup his face, going deeper into the kiss.

“We’re ok, aren’t we” Steve asked, opening the little door and walking out.

“More than ok” Tony replied, taking Steve’s hand and making their way down the corridor.

[obwjam]

I don’t know why I didn’t do this before, but if you’re still writing marvel g/t could you do another Scott lang one or Bruce Banner one? Maybe x hurt!tiny? They’re both so underrated and are amazing characters. I love your writing 🙂

i’ll do you one better anon: what if i did scott AND bruce with a tiny? yeah i think i’ll go with that

———-

Bruce Banner’s morning started out normal, which maybe should have been his clue that things were going to go spectacularly off the rails. All was quiet at the Avengers complex upstate -- Tony was at some tech conference, Clint and Nat were doing spy business, Thor was in some other realm, Vision and Wanda were cooped up in their rooms upstairs and Steve, Sam and Bucky were off sparring together in a completely different wing of the building. Bruce was on his way down to the lab, and Scott was upstairs, munching on chips and watching TV.

“Chips at 10 in the morning?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

Scott shrugged, stuffing another handful into his mouth. “There was nothing else!”

Bruce, who was standing in front of an open fridge full of food, raised an eyebrow.

“...Nothing else I wanted,” Scott said, his attention turning immediately back to the TV. “Oh my god. Look at that kitchen! Man, can those property brothers design or what! I wonder if I can get them to do my house.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and grabbed the energy drink he came for. It was going to be a long, restless day of calculations and experiments without Tony around to help.

It was just his luck that he would never even get to start.

You had stayed up all night borrowing. It was rare for the complex to be this deserted, but it was your one chance to stock up on everything you needed in one big trip -- food and water from the kitchen, pieces of soap from the bathroom, and everything else you could ever want from the lab downstairs. 

Everything was going great. Nobody had infiltrated the kitchen for a midnight snack. Someone had remembered to replace the soap. And the lab was stocked full of sharp metal for building, flat metal for creating, strings for hooks, and so many screws and nails and bolts. It took over a dozen trips up and down the tables to get everything, and you were just about finished when your greed got the best of you.

You were trying to stuff the most you possibly could inside your bags. They were overflowing. You were on your way down the leg of the table when a few pieces of metal started to slip out your bag.

“No no no no no...” you mumbled. The metal falling out of the bag wasn’t itself a big deal -- it was the noise it would make when it hit the ground that scared you. As you scrambled to stuff the metal back into the bag, your hold on your rope started to slip. You didn’t realize how tired you were until right now, and what turned into you trying to pull yourself up became your muscles giving out and your hand being unable to keep its tight grip.

You tumbled to the ground, which wasn’t that far away, but when you tried to stick the landing, your legs tangled up and you crumpled down. The metal clattered everywhere, making you wince. You waited a moment. No human. Okay. They must not have heard. You sat up, using your arms as support behind you, but when you went to stand, pain shot through your leg and you fell right back down.

Your stomach fell. “No… nononono, this can’t be happening…” 

You forced yourself to stand, keeping your right leg completely straight and dragging it along as you shuffled to the table leg for cover. “No, I gotta get out of here. I can’t--”

You froze at the sound of Bruce bounding down the stairs, cracking open his drink and taking a big sip before slamming the can down on the nearest table. He blinked. Did he just... hear a whimper?

His eyes scanned the room. You were moving as fast as you could, but adrenaline could only push you so far. Your leg throbbed in pain and you cried out as you fell back to the ground again. Your shaking hand flew to your mouth. I’m done for.

Okay, he definitely wasn’t hearing things. That sounded like someone yelling. He took cautious steps forward, hoping not to make too much noise so he didn’t startle whatever he was hearing.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as the giant started walking toward you, clearly looking for something he had heard. He stopped walking almost right on top of you, and you couldn’t help but gawk up at him towering above you like a skyscraper. The mere thought of being discovered by the human was enough to induce tears, which you desperately tried to push away as you got back up and started moving again.

Bruce heard a choppy breath and froze. That sounded close... but he was standing in the middle of the room. Nothing was behind him, in front of him or beside him... so the only option was... below him.

He looked down and gasped. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he suddenly felt sick. “Holy shit…” he whispered, putting his hands on his knees and leaning down. As soon as he uttered those words, you whipped your head up and around to meet his gaze. For a moment, he was surprised. He felt an influx of nerves when the tiny person stared at him, completely shocked. They looked terrified. 

“H-hey, little guy--” he tried, but you had already turned around and started limping toward the table. Wait… limping.

Bruce, for his part, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched as you ducked behind the cover of the table leg. You knew it wasn’t going to help, but you just needed to get behind something so you could sit down and feel like you were hiding. Bruce felt a pang of pity. Not only was this little thing hurt, they were terrified of him.

“Um...” Bruce couldn’t even begin to formulate words in his head. He bent down, getting on his hands and knees and crawling to the side so he could fully see you. When you locked gazes, Bruce almost looked more nervous than you did. Your whole body was shaking. That’s when he noticed.

“Your leg… it’s bending all the wrong way,” he whispered, almost to himself. You blinked. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. You knew this giant -- this was one of the scientists who frequented the lab. He didn’t seem as… rough as the other one, but you were pretty sure this was the one who turned into a monster when he got angry. As if he wasn’t big enough already. 

He noticed how you flinched at his words. He felt his heart swell at the tiny movements, yet guilt pierced his stomach at seeing the pure terror you exuded.

“No, no, it--it’s okay,” Bruce stammered, holding his hands up. “Who... what are you?”

Your lips were trembling. How were you even supposed to answer that?

“You’re right. Bad question,” Bruce muttered as soon as he saw your facial expression. “You can understand me though, right?” 

Meekly, you nodded. Bruce smiled softly. “Good, good. Do you, uh... do you need help? Do you...” he trailed off. He took note at how your eyes seemed to be burning as you stared at him in horror. He tried to speak as slow as possible to not startle you any more than he already had.

“Do you have a name?”

Your words got caught in your throat. Part of you wanted to say, but another part stopped you from saying anything. You didn’t need his help. You’d be fine. As long as you could make it back to base...

Pain shot through your leg and you bit your tongue, trying desperately not to make a sound. Bruce stared as you contorted your face. It was clear you were in pain.

“H-here, let me…” he started, reaching his hand out toward you. On instinct, you yelped and scooted back, hugging the table leg for support. No. You couldn’t let him touch you. He would hurt you even more.

“Sorry, sorry!” He stared at your tiny, trembling form, his mind racing. How could he help you? If he were three inches tall and incapacitated on the ground, he wouldn’t want the help of a nervous giant either.

Maybe he couldn’t help, but someone small enough could.

“I’ll be right back!” he shot up, completely missing the way you winced back at his movement. “Don’t--stay right there!” You watched in confusion and fascination as he ran up the stairs. This was your chance! All you needed to do was get up, get your rope and hobble all… the… way… across the room…

Who were you kidding? You could barely even stand without falling right back down. You were trapped. The giant was obviously going to get a jar to put you in to show you off to all the weirdos who lived here. 

This is it, you thought as you began to cry. This is how it ends.

“Scott!”

Scott coughed on his chips and turned around in surprise. “Bruce?” he asked, but it came out sounding like Brrcsh.

“Get your suit.”

“What?”

“Your suit! Your costume. Your… Ant-Man thing.”

“Oh! That suit. What do you need it for?” Scott frowned. “You don’t want to take it apart, do you? Did Tony put you up to this?”

“What-- no! I’ll explain in a minute. Just go get it!”

“Okay, okay!” Scott folded his chip bag and ran upstairs. Bruce was pacing and tapping his finger on the counter when Scott came back down, helmet in hand.

“Wow. You change quick.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Scott grinned. “Now can you tell me what the hell you’re so worked up about?”

“You’re not gonna believe me,” Bruce started, “but down in the lab there’s a tiny person who’s badly hurt but I would hurt them even more if I tried to help and they’re pretty scared of me so I need your help to calm them down.”

Scott blinked, processing what he had just been told. Of all the things in the world that Bruce could have told him, the existence of tiny people wasn’t at all shocking. In fact, Scott had pondered this possibility many times while traversing the world as Ant-Man. Some things were way too conveniently set up for it to be a coincidence. But a tiny person here? In this giant complex full of temperamental superheroes? That was no place for someone so small.

“You really thought I wouldn’t believe you? You know my thing is shrinking, right?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, I-- you’re really just going to accept all that?”

“I can grow and shrink at the press of a button and you turn into a giant green rage monster when you stub your toe. Aliens attacked New York once. This is like, a three out of ten on the surprise scale.”

Bruce stared, waiting to see if Scott would say anything else. He didn’t.

“Well, will you help or not?”

“Of course I’ll help! I guess you need me to--”

“--yeah, if you could just--”

“--okay, okay. Here I go.” Scott slipped his helmet on, pushed the magic button and in an instant, he was three inches tall. Bruce laid his hand down and Scott jumped on, using his thumb for support as Bruce bounded back downstairs.

Your breath hitched when you heard booming footsteps coming back down the stairs. You wished so deeply that you could have escaped, but a part of you knew that could never happen. The giant would probably find you again, anyway. 

You quivered when the giant re-entered your vision. Why did he leave? Was he going to get help? You didn’t see any help. You didn’t see him carrying a jar, either.

That is, until Bruce took a knee next to you and lowered his hand. You gasped and your eyes went wide when a person wearing very odd clothes and a weird looking helmet hopped off his palm and kneeled down next to you.

“Hello! I’m Scott,” the person -- Scott -- said in a cheery demeanor. You didn’t know what was freaking you out more, the silhouette of the giant in the background or Scott sitting a foot away from you. He certainly looked like a borrower... but if there were other borrowers, you would have known about it. And no way a borrower would be hanging out with a bunch of humans. You couldn’t figure out who, or what, he was.

“It’s okay! Don’t freak out,” he said, scooting a bit closer. He felt a pang of guilt at the terrified expression on your face. “I’m--we’re here to help.” He gestured up at Bruce, who gave a small, awkward wave. “That’s Bruce. He’s gonna help us get off the ground. Can I help you up?”

You stared at him in disbelief. They… really wanted to help you?

“Here.” Scott stuck his hand out. You looked at it for a cautious moment before grabbing it and letting him do the hard work of hoisting you up.

“Ow!” you cried as Scott pulled. It was almost impossible to stand. Your face instantly flushed red when both Bruce and Scott shot you a look of surprise after hearing you speak.

“Hold on,” Scott said calmly. He slid his arm underneath your shoulder, acting as support while you tried the best you could to stay standing. You were leaning heavily on him to keep from falling as he stood up fully.

“You got it?”

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were locked on your two bags beneath the table, scrap metal scattered everywhere. Scott followed your gaze.

“Is that your stuff?” he asked. You froze. You weren’t going to answer that. Scott took note. “Okay, well, we’re going to try and walk now-- woah!” One step forward and you instantly lost your footing. Your stomach dropped as he turned up to Bruce, who was watching intently. “Think you can give us a lift?”

“Oh--sure,” Bruce stammered. He was reluctant to try and bring his hand close to you again. 

“No!” you blurted, instantly regretting it. Scott turned to you.

“No? Why not?”

“B-because…” you tried, but your words failed you when you looked up at Bruce. He was gigantic. One wrong move and he could break you even more than you were already broken. “I…”

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. He doesn’t look like it, but he’s really gentle, I promise.”

“Hey!” Bruce protested.

“What? You should see what you look like from down here, man,” Scott shrugged. You were shaking, and Scott could feel it. “You can close your eyes if you want. We just gotta get you off the ground. It’s not safe here.”

You sighed. You knew you had to do this, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier. Following Scott’s advice, you squeezed your eyes tight as you felt the sudden push of a large mass behind you. Knowing this was Bruce’s hand, your arm tightened around Scott’s back as you fell down into his palm, legs dangling as he very slowly stood up. Scott didn’t blink, but even with Bruce going slow, the speed was still dizzying to you. 

Bruce was trying his best not to shake. Not only was he holding Scott, but he had this very hurt, very scared tiny stranger at his mercy, too. This is not how he thought he’d be spending his day.

He gently lowered his hand to the table, but you were in no position to merrily jump off. Scott took instant notice.

“Hold on, let me go get something for you,” he said. You blinked in shock as he jumped off the table and… grew… to full size. This human could shrink himself? Or was he a borrower that could grow? You had never seen him here before.

“Scott! Where are you going?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Just going to get his,” he said, grabbing a clean cloth from a nearby table. He folded it neatly next to you and in an instant, he was tiny again. Were you in so much pain that you were hallucinating?

“Sit on this,” he said, gently lifting you from your spot on the edge of Bruce’s hand to the cloth. You flopped down, grateful to have some soft support for your aching body. Scott took a seat next to you, and Bruce pulled up a chair and bent down to get his face to your level. You eyed him nervously.

“I hope after all this, you feel like you can tell us your name,” Scott smiled. 

You kept your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m… I’m (Y/n),” you said shyly. 

“That’s a nice name,” Bruce said, quietly this time. He frowned when you didn’t even look at him. “What… why are you here? I-in the lab? What happened?”

“I…” you couldn’t believe what was happening. Were you really about to give your whole life story to a giant you met five minutes ago? Well, giants, but one of them was choosing not to be big around you. That had to count for something. And Bruce had gone up to get his help, just to make sure you were okay…

“I-I’m… I live here,” you said so softly, you didn't think Bruce could hear. “In the complex. This is my home. I was… gathering supplies. I--I didn’t want anyone to h-hear me, but… I slipped off my rope going down the table.”

“Oh, man,” Scott muttered. He looked over to where Bruce had spotted the tiny rope contraption. He couldn’t believe he was looking at a shoelace tied to a paper clip. 

“This is what you use to get around?” he asked, pinching the paper clip between his fingers and holding it up. 

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. It was almost scary how small your rope looked when he held it.

“That’s incredible,” Bruce breathed. “I--I mean, the ingenuity to create something like this, and-and actually use it to climb up and down? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed. He genuinely sounded impressed. “Th-thanks,” you mumbled. 

“What do you need all that scrap metal for?” Scott asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. 

“Uhm… I use it to… build stuff,” you said plainly. “And to like, cut things and… you know.”

“That’s so cool,” Scott said with a smile. “I don’t think I could ever do what you do. You know, climb up tables and sneak around? Well, I mean, I do do that…” he stopped when he saw your confused expression. “I could never do it for a living, is what I mean.”

“How do you… you know, eat? Or bathe?” Bruce asked.

You shrugged. “I, uh, I just take whatever I can find. Stuff you guys won’t notice is gone.”

“That’s… wow.” Bruce was beside himself. This tiny person was living an entire life out under their noses every single day and he was none the wiser. As happy as he was to have made this discovery, he was even happier at the fact that you weren’t nearly as tense and scared as you were before. “I--I have so many questions!”

You knew the human would want to know everything, but the thought of answering a million questions about your secret life still freaked you out. You gave Scott a nervous glance. He instantly understood.

“Well hey, why don’t we try and patch up your leg and bring you upstairs for some breakfast?” Scott turned to Bruce. “Can we do that? Can we give breakfast to tiny strangers?” 

Bruce smirked. “We can do whatever we want. As long as (Y/n) is okay with it.”

“I can make my world-famous San Fran-cakes!” Scott said excitedly. “Well, world famous might be a stretch. And I guess they’re just plain ol’ pancakes if I’m in New York--”

“Scott…”

“Right, right. Oh, and we could watch TV. Have you ever watched TV? You gotta see what the property brothers can do to a kitchen!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. No, you had never watched TV, and you didn’t know what a property brother was, but maybe now would be a good time to find out.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce had laid his palm down flat beside you. “We’ve got some gauze upstairs. I can try and make you a cast while Scott makes breakfast.”

You stared at his hand, and somehow, that crippling sense of fear you felt before was gone. Maybe it was all overwhelming, and you still didn’t feel like this was all real, but Bruce was kind and Scott had willingly made himself tiny just to calm you down. You were very glad it had worked.

Scott helped you up from the cloth and over to Bruce’s hand, where you situated yourselves between his thumb and held on tight for support. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hold on, you two,” he said, slowly standing up. Scott was going on about something completely unrelated, and Bruce was smiling as he kept his hand perfectly steady. Bruce grabbed the cloth with his free hand and in an instant, the junkyard of a lab was just a background. You had never seen it from this angle before. It looked massive and uninviting.

You were glad to leave it behind. Whatever San Fran-cakes were, you were more than excited to try them. 

[navegandoaciegas]

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

-

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

-

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out,  peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

-

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

-

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

-

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, don’t be shy, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲

[headheartbellarke]

LUNCH | Juke

PAIRING(S): Julie Molina x Luke Patterson 

WARNING(S): so much fluff

WORDS: 2,995

SUMMARY: First day of middle school, and eleven-year-old Luke Patterson with lively eyes, a contagious smile and a head full of musical dreams decides that the girl that sits at the table in front of him during lunch break is the most beautiful person he’s ever met, other than his mama, of course.

(lmk if anyone wants a tag!)

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SIXTH GRADE

      First day of middle school, and eleven-year-old Luke Patterson with lively eyes, a contagious smile and a head full of musical dreams decides that the girl that sits at the table in front of him during lunch break is the most beautiful person he’s ever met, other than his mama, of course. He spends the rest of the day thinking about the way her eyes light up like Christmas lights when she laughs, or the way she absentmindedly hums the tune of Love Story by Taylor Swift, or the way her hair looks so beautiful against the afternoon sun. His friends, Alex, Reggie and Bobby, notice him staring at that girl – and they tease him, and Luke denies everything, rolling his eyes, but the blush spreading across his face quickly proves him out to be a big, fat liar.  His friends all flash out toothy smiles, and encourage him to go talk to her, and Luke promises that he’ll do so, the next day.

    Next day rolls around, and he tells Alex and Reggie and Bobby that he’s going to sit next to her in Literature. And he almost does, believe me – but, at the last moment, he decides against his better judgement and sits behind her, next to Bobby who boos at him. He rolls his eyes and decides to just stare at the back of her head instead, promising himself that he’ll do it tomorrow. He’ll sit next to her tomorrow, and he’ll have an actual conversation with her. He watches Julie raise her hand and answer a question, and he thinks, tomorrow.

    Tomorrow comes with a geography test, and he sits in the front, next to Alex, and says, “I have to study, and I think I’ll be very distracted if she’s around!”, but he’s still distracted, this time turning back towards her every five minutes. Tomorrow, he says again. Alex pinches the bridge of his nose.

    Tomorrow, the day tomorrow, the day after that – it all passes away, Luke making up one excuse after the other. Finally, a week later, his friends have had enough, and Reggie slips Luke’s notebook in Julie’s bag when she’s not looking.

    It has the intended effect. Julie finds Luke at lunch, him sitting with his friends, and gives him a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair, that’s escaped from her braid, behind her ear. Luke looks mortified, seeing his notebook in her hands, and Reggie elbows him, and he finally comes to his senses.

     “H-hi!” He manages to croak out, suppressing a thousand emotions inside.

     “Hi. I believe this is yours? It was in my bag; I don’t know how it got there – maybe Miss Walker accidentally gave me yours and I didn’t notice? Or maybe you dropped it. Accidentally. In my bag. That doesn’t sound like it’s possible, but it is. One time, my best friend, Flynn, she dropped her water bottle, her new water bottle in Tyler Vishwakumar’s bag – we searched for it for hours, and at the end of the day, there’s Tyler. With the bottle. How crazy is that?” Julie lets out in one breath, huffing when she finishes. Her face has tinges of red on it.

     “You’re rambling.” Alex points out.

    Reggie widens his eyes. “Oh, are you nervous? People ramble when they’re nervous. Why are you nervous? Now you actually look like you’ll yack in a bowl. You’re almost making me nervous!”

    Julie must have looked horrified by then, because, well, she was talking to the four cutest boys in her grade, and one of them has been obsessively staring at her for the past week, too – she wasn’t the one who noticed – it was her best friend, Flynn, who did.

     “Will you sit with us?” Luke mumbles out. His friends all grin, proud of him. Julie feels little butterflies in her stomach, and says, “Can my best friend sit too?”

    Luke nods furiously. “Absolutely.”

    Julie grins.

***

JUNIOR YEAR

       “Julieee!” Luke drags out the ‘e.’

     “What?” Julie whispers, annoyed. They’re currently seated in their chemistry classroom, and Luke is utterly bored.

     “I’m bored.” He announces.

    Julie rolls her eyes. “You promised Emily that you’d focus on Organic Chemistry.”

     “I know, I’m the one who promised it.”

     “Then, focus!”

    Luke huffs. “We already went through this, remember? Last week when I kept pronouncing acetone as ace-tune.”

     “We went through what acetone was. Mr. Miller’s teaching reactions – we’re supposed to go through it tomorrow.”

     “Good thing I have my tutor, then.” He pokes Julie’s cheek. Julie’s eyes nervously dart to the front of the room, where their teacher still has his back to them, balancing equations on the whiteboard.

    She sighs. “You are so annoying.”

    Luke bats his eyelashes, feigning innocence. “Who, me?”

    Julie shakes her head, a quiet laugh escaping her.

     “Hey, I was thinking we could finish that song that we were working on last night.”

     “Sure.”

     “Cool, I have some ideas. I’ll tell Alex, Reg and Flynn to sit somewhere else so that we can work in peace, alright?”

    Julie’s eyes widen. “Wait, at lunch? I thought you meant that we’ll work on it tomorrow when you come over.”

    Luke shrugs. “Told ya. I’m inspired.”

    Julie shakes her head. “I can’t at lunch.”

    He checks what his teacher’s doing (still scribbling) and narrows his eyes at his best friend. “Why? It’s not like we do anything –”

     “I promised Nick that I’d sit with him.” Julie blurts out.

    Luke raises his eyebrows, widening his eyes. “Nick?! You still have that crush on him?”

    Julie blushes, trying to hide behind her hair, and trying to hide the fact that she never actually had a crush on Nick. Well, she did, kind of. But that crush wasn’t as big as the one she has on the boy sitting next to her.

     “Uh, no. He asked me, and I couldn’t say no!”

    Luke purses his lips, feeling his heart deflate a little. “But we always have lunch together! Ever since I asked you to sit with us that day in sixth grade, remember?”

     “Well, we’re all growing up. Alex already sits with Willie on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Soon enough, all of us would have new schedules like that –”

     “No, Jules. I won’t. I’ll always sit with you guys.” Luke persists.

    Julie shrugs, her posture falling a little. “Well, you say that now. What would happen when you like someone, and they ask you to sit with them?”

    But I like you! Luke thinks to himself, a blush immediately covering his cheeks. He pushes the thought away. “I… Even if I did, I’d still sit with you guys.”

    Julie raises her brows, not convinced. Luke desperately wants to tell her that he’s already sitting with the girl he likes, scratch that, has been in love with since middle school. He desperately wants to tell her that he’ll always sit with her, even if she falls in love with Nick or something. He desperately wants to tell her how much she means to him, how she’s his best friend, how he always wants to spend every moment with her, how she’s his family and how much he appreciates all that she’s done for him: from always being his shoulder to cry on, to always saving the last, chocolatey part of her ice cream for him.

    Instead, all that gets out is, “Fine. Sit with him. I don’t care.”

    Julie hangs her head. “Luke, come on, don’t be a baby –”

    He raises his eyebrows aggressively. “Oh, I’m being a baby?” Suddenly, he feels an anger in his chest, the same intensity as his feelings for her. “You’re choosing that… that lacrosse playing, academically great, and pretty much perfect… weirdo over m– us. You’re choosing him over your best friends. You’re breaking this group apart!”

    She purses her lips, annoyed. It’s things like these that makes her mad. He has no right to be mad at her whenever she hangs out with other guys, especially when the only reason she is doing so is because she wants to get over Luke himself. “Stop it, Luke. I’m sitting with Nick today, and it’s my decision.”

     “Fine. We’re done, then.”

    Julie scrunches up her face. “What do you mean, done?”

    Luke rolls his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he absolutely hates fighting with her. “I mean, I’m done with you. I can’t look at you anymore.”

     “Oh, come on, Luke! You’re making a big deal out of this for no – hey, where are you going? Luke! Get back here!” She whisper shouts as he walks to the front of the classroom and takes a seat next to Alex, who is sitting at the very front. Alex looks at him, and then at Julie, and whispers something in Luke’s ear, patting his back. Julie watches as he shrugs off Alex’s hand.

    She sighs, feeling like absolute crap.

***

       “Luke, stop it. Please.”

     “I’m not doing anything!”

     “You’ve been staring at Jules and Nick since they got here! It’s creepy, dude!” Flynn whisper shouts.

     “I am not!” Luke whisper shouts back. Flynn breathes deeply, her eyes narrowed, and lips pressed in a thin line. The boy in front of her challenges her stare.

     “OK, guys, stop.” Reggie says, banging the lunch table. The trio are currently seated in their usual table – although, their group lacks Alex, who’s sitting outside with his boyfriend, Willie, and of course, Julie.

    Reggie turns around in his seat to check what’s Julie doing. “Guys, they’re just talking.”

     “Soon enough they’ll be making out.” Luke crosses his arms.

    Flynn scrunches up her face. “What is it with you? Why can’t you just tell her that you’re in love with her –”

     “I am not –”

     “Yeah, you’re really not fooling anyone right now, buddy.” Reggie shrugs.

     “Why does everybody think that I’m in love with her? I’m just mad that my best friend is choosing some knockoff Clint Eastwood over me!”

     “What?” Flynn asks, confused.

    Luke closes his eyes and sighs, annoyed. “Why does no one get it?” He points to his head. “It’s because of his hat – the cowboy hat!”

    Flynn stares at him like he’s grown a third head.

     “The good, bad and ugly? Come on, Flynn. It’s a classic!”

    “Right, Luke.”

    Luke sighs deeply. “I hate my life.”

***

       “I even miss her stealing my ketchup, dude.”

     “It’s okay, dude. I’m here for you.” Alex pats his friend’s head, who is sitting beside him, his head resting atop his arms which is atop the lunch table, dramatically.

     “And she took Flynn, too. I miss her rapping about sandwiches.” He says, but his voice comes out muffled.

     “I thought you hated that. I remember you called her a broken radio.”

     “Not now, Alex!”

    Alex bites his lip, trying to hide his smile.

    Reggie leans across the table and grabs Luke’s arms. “Listen, Luke – wow, you’re really muscular! That’s not the point, okay. Listen – I wanna eat my pizza in peace, without you whining about Jules. So, please. Just tell her that you’re in love with her.”

    Luke lifts his head and opens his mouth to deny the last part, but he remembers the time he told Alex and Reggie how much he loves Julie after him and Julie had spent the entire day together at the beach, and she had even gone swimming with him – she is absolutely terrified of water – just because she wanted to cheer Luke up. (Bobby had left their band that week – Sunset Curve, tell your friends, or rather, not – to sign a solo contract with a label. Luke had been pretty pissed. And sad. Mostly pissed, though.) (Oh, wait. Ex band. Luke’s now in a band with Reggie, Alex, and Julie – Julie and The Phantoms. Tell your friends!)

     “No regrets, Luke, right? Isn’t that your catchphrase?” Alex says. Luke sits up. Alex continues, “What if you eat a really bad hotdog and die tomorrow, Luke? Then you’ll never get to tell her how you feel.”

     “No one dies of a bad hotdog, Alex.”

     “That’s not the point.”

    Reggie pipes in. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

     “Uh, she could never talk to me, again?”

     “At least she’ll know. And, come on, everyone at this school knows you guys ooze chemistry.”

    Alex scrunches up his face. “You should never say ooze again, but, yeah, I agree. Everyone can see the way Julie looks at you.”

    Luke sighs, and a sudden burst of confidence takes over him. No regrets.

    He pushes his chair backwards as his friends cheer him. With his chin held up high, he walks over to the table where Nick, Julie and Flynn are seated. When he sees her, he feels a pang in his chest – they haven’t talked in a whole freaking week.

    He reaches their table and the trio look up at him, Nick and Flynn offering him smiles. Julie just stares at him, an unrecognizable expression on her face.

    Luke clears his throat. “Julie. Hi.”

     “Hi, Luke.” She breathes out, suddenly feeling nervous. She’s never felt nervous around her best friend before – he’s one of the very few people around whom she is completely comfortable. Maybe it has to do with the fact that they haven’t talked in a week, and Julie misses him so, so much. They’ve never gone this long without talking, and in the past week she’s realized just how deep she cares about him, just how intense her love is for him.

    They stare at each other for a while, neither of them daring to break the silence that’s suddenly engulfed the table.

    Flynn looks between them. “Guys?”

    That breaks Luke out of his trance, and he feels like throwing up. His stomach is in knots, and he suddenly feels hot and breathless. “I –”

    No regrets.

    No regrets.

    No regrets.

    Julie starts speaking, “You wanna go outside? We really should talk. Shouldn’t we? I mean, I think so. I don’t think we’ve ever gone this long without speaking. Have we? Uh, the last time we didn’t speak, which was for two days, was when you broke my favorite clip. Remember? I think that was in –”

     “I’m in love with you.”

    Instinctively, Julie’s eyes widen, and she looks at Flynn, who has the same expression on her face, except that a large smile is blossoming on her face. She notices Alex and Reggie walking over to their table, and Nick, oh god, Nick – he’s currently pursing his lips, looking between the two of them.

     “What’s going on here? You guys look really weird.” Reggie says.

     “Luke here just told Julie that he’s in love with her. Julie. Julie, you should say something.” Flynn nudges her friend.

    Julie shoves her hands in her jeans pockets and stands up. “Uh, I – I – need to… the washroom. I need to use the washroom!”

    She runs of the cafeteria, five pairs of eyes following her.

     “Luke, go after her, you idiot!” Flynn slightly shoves Luke as he nods frantically, running after her.

    As the remaining members at the table watch the two of them run off to god-knows-where, Flynn rests her head on Alex’s shoulder as Reggie says, “That was awkward.”

    Nick nods. “Very uncomfortable to watch.”

    Alex, Reggie, and Flynn simultaneously look at Nick, them forgetting about his presence. Alex opens his mouth to provide an explanation, but Nick swats his hands. “It’s okay. I figured out that she’s into him yesterday. Everyone can see the way they look at each other.”

***

       “Julie! Jules, please!”

    Julie stops at the sound of Luke’s voice. She still feels queasy as she turns around to face Luke in the basketball courtyard where they’re currently standing.

    Luke walks up to her, hesitation evident in his every step. “Hear me out, please. I might die of a hotdog today.”

    “What?”

     “Nothing. Look, Julie, you’re my best friend and I really don’t wanna lose our friendship, but I can’t hide what I feel for you anymore. I’ve been in love with you since middle school, and I’ve tried, so hard, to fight it, but I can’t. You’re the smartest person I know and you have the most amazing voice, and you’re the most beautiful girl in my life and you’re the nicest and I really should have written this before or something. You – I can’t even imagine my life without you, Jules. There’s no one else that I wanna sing with onstage, or write songs with, or bake cakes with on Christmas eve or have a dance party with or… you get the point. Just, please, don’t shut me out.”

    Julie’s eyes soften, and she whispers. “That was all over the place.”

     “I know. I should’ve written it first.”

    She smiles and takes a step closer to him. “Do you remember the song that I wrote last year? Perfect Harmony? The one you found in my dream box?”

    Luke nods, his heart clenching. It’s about Nick, he thinks to himself.

     “It was about you.”

     “What?” He feels his heart beat faster.

     “It’s you, Luke. It was never Nick or anyone.” Julie takes Luke’s trembling hands in hers.

     “Really?” He whispers.

     “It’s always been you, Luke.”

     “Two worlds collide when you’re with me?”

    Julie nods.

     “I set you free?”

    She nods, again.

     “I’m your brightest burning star?”

    She blushes.

     “I put rhythm in your heart?”

    She laughs, “Luke!”

    He laughs, too, untangling a hand from hers to tuck a curl behind her ear.

     “I’ve been in love with you ever since you asked me to sit with you that day at lunch, Luke.”

    He smiles, feeling completely euphoric.

     “We wasted so much time, Jules.”

    She shrugs. “Probably.”

     “Will you go on a date with me, Jules?”

     “I would love to.”

    He cups her face in his hands as Julie looks at him like he put the stars in her world. He leans forward, and so does Julie, and their lips meet halfway in a kiss that’s long overdue.

***

[imbackmrstark]

《——————》

• l e m o n b o y •

It was the kid from next door. Brown, curly hair and those sweet, thin lips. His eyes, God, his eyes, Tony could stare into them for hours. He was barely 15 years old, the boy, maybe 16, Tony had never asked and never intended to. Talking, that was the problem. Tony never had a word with the boy, not even at the welcome party; the boy's family, the Parkers – he knew that from the door sign – only moved here a few months ago, Tony had fallen in love immediately. He couldn't take his eyes off the smaller one all day long, staring at him like a hungry lion at its prey, but instead of attacking the teenager, he just smiled insecurely every now and then. He looked like an angry hamster – a sweet, angry hamster. You couldn't take him seriously, he was far too cute. Tony was head over heels in love with the boy next door. And so it began that Anthony E. Stark watched the younger one from his room window every day as he built and hammered on something outside, curious what it would be.

One day – Tony just came out of his bathroom, hair freshly washed and with a towel around his waist – he saw a small booth with a sign on it saying "lemonade $2". A smile played around his lips and he completely forgot to put something on and comb his hair, far too distracted by the sunshine down on the street, which at that moment took some lemons and pressed them into a lemonade. That's when Tony started calling him 'lemon boy', whether in his head or when he talked to his parents about the Parkers boy.

He supported his elbow on the windowsill and leaned his chin on the palm of his hand while watching the neighbor. To live across from such a beauty is a curse and a blessing in equal measure. Tony thought that even a blind man would see how much he was in love and that scared him. He couldn't–.. to be honest, he didn't even try to talk his way out of it, he had no chance, he knew he had lost to this disgusting love. Pah, who needs love! The teenager pulled a face, he needed love. Oh dammit.

He let his gaze wander back to the street and only noticed too late that Little Parker had looked up at him. A sweet smile adorned his face and he raised his hand briefly to wave sweetly. Tony's eyes widened in shock before he threw back a quick smile and jumped away from the window, getting tangled up in the blanket and falling to the floor. A soft laugh was heard from the street and the older one puffed offended.

Tony wondered why the boy had just opened his shop at the beginning of his school days. Every day from 8am to 3pm at school and then up to two hours of homework and studying. How is he supposed to find time for his lemonade? Talking about school: The teenager was sitting right now in the school bus on his way to personal hell, while Parker was once again being brought fine by Auntie. Aunt... Tony had heard that the boy's parents had died and that he was now living with his aunt and uncle. Even though he loved them, he felt bad for him. The brown-haired teen got up and grabbed his bag when the bus came to a halt, then left it to find his friends with a quick glance. That was the less difficult task, but getting there first... almost impossible.

"Tonyy!" A girl with brown hair waved at him before she ran to him with her bouncing boobs to give him a cheerful hug. "How was the holiday, big boy? You're fine?"

"Sorry, but who were you again?" Faces and names, not Tony's domain at all, especially when he sees so many of them a day. Most popular boy in school problem.

The girl made an offended expression on her face and was about to start complaining when she was harshly interrupted.

"Stark. Why don't you stop flirting and join us? We've been waiting here forever." That voice... That fucking voice. It could only come from one lady, and you better not fuck with her. A request was a request and she never took no for an answer, never ever.

"Natasha, darling... Of course, I'm on my way," he replied instantly, looking forward to having his peace and quiet from all the annoying students, because one thing was made clear on the first day of school: James Barnes hates people and will beat up anyone who didn't get official permission to stay near him. Even Steve, an old best friend, now just a friend, to get him into the group took days and now... now the two of them can't be separated anymore. They are one of the favorite couples at this school.

"Hey man," Steve grinned at him slightly, his typical greeting after the holidays, just to get warm again. They parted quarrelling back then - Tony had caught him sleeping with his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, Pepper, and instead of an apology he only got to hear that she was a slut and he just wanted to show him that she was wrong. It took years to stand so close to him again without Tony wanting to punch him in the face.

"What's up?" He wasn't a real speaker, he hated this job most in everyday life anyway. He listened to his friends most of the time and answered everyone only the most necessary questions. Only with some of them he could come out a bit more. For example his best friend Rhodey and maybe even a little bit with Natasha.

The happy expression on his face when the bell rang couldn't go unnoticed by his friends, which is why a little grin crept across Rhodey's face before he put his hand on Tony's shoulder and went to class with him. The hours stretched like chewing gum and the teenager became so bored that he voluntarily started talking to the people around him. Sometimes a little word with the girl next to him and sometimes a few sentences with a buddy of his named Thor. They got along well, even if Thor wasn't the brightest candle on the chandelier. It was always funny to listen to the boy, how he put up crazy theories. Weirdo. After the English lesson they walked together through the corridors to their lockers, which happened to be close together. On the way there, the paths of Tony and the Lemon Boy crossed, who smiled softly, then immediately looked down at the floor again. At school Tony wore the pants, here he was braver and here he could stand his looks and smiles. At home then rather less, the boy made him weak.

"Earth to Stark," Thor curiously waved his hand in front of his face to regain the attention he was currently giving the sugar sweet boy. And by "giving" he meant staring at the boy like a stalker, so that even he noticed it and speeded up his walking with red cheeks. Maybe Tony was creepy, yes, maybe, but it was all due to stupid love. If it didn't exist, none of this would've happened. He puffed, glanced back up at Thor, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why don't you ask him out?"

"Just shut up, you have no idea." He grumbled discontentedly and turned back around to see Bucky leaning against Tony's locker, smiling knowingly. Of course he knew what was going on in Tony's head. He'd been through the whole thing himself. With Steve, in fact. He shook his head, his hair falling unintentionally into his face, so Steve's hand slid towards him instantly and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Of course the blond guy was not far away from his lover, always at his side, that asshole. Tony rolled his eyes, stood right in front of them and showed with a quick movement of his head that he wanted to get to his locker.

"What do you want, idiot? Ohh, your locker. Ah sorry, but I am standing here right now, find yourself another place, will you?" Bucky replied with wagging eyebrows and a smirk on his lips.

"Fuck off or I'll punch you in the face, idiot." Tony's nerves were shot to shit. First the beautiful boy who gave him a smile and now a fucking bastard who interrupted his daydreams. "Come on, just say what you're getting at. Come on, one word and I'll show you some respect, you little pain in the ass."

"I haven't heard so many words from you in a long time, you little bitch." He laughed happily, like this was all some sort of game to him. Being a bit annoying to his friends, his favorite hobby, it seems. Not to Steve, apparently, because his body showed something quite different. He was tense and his hands were clenched in fists as if he was about to intervene any second to protect his lover, even if he could do it well himself.

"Okay big boys, that's enough." The redhead who almost always got Tony out of difficult situations, intervened again. "There's a real tense atmosphere here, don't you think?"

"Completely agree with you," confirmed Thor, who was a little tense himself. It wouldn't be the first time that Bucky and Tony would fight, it happened almost every month, but it hasn't been as bad as today for a long time.

"The motherfucker's in love, totally, and he knows that I know and he knows that I know who it is and that... that scares him." That grin on his face and those eyes that radiated such joy, like he thought he'd won. Tony couldn't help himself. He swung and punched the asshole right in the face.

"Tony!!!"

"Gee, I've already apologized. He's just a little drama queen, we all know that." Tony paced the hallway outside the hospital room trying desperately to talk his way out. Meanwhile, Thor sat in the far too small chair and watched him pacing as if it was even remotely exciting.

"Holy shit, you broke his fucking nose!" Clint, another friend of Tony's, or rather Natasha's, interfered and threw the facts back on the table. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"He provoked me. He always provokes me. I hope this has taught him a lesson."

"Absolutely, motherfucker," Bucky muttered sarcastically as he came out of the hospital room with Steve holding his hand and his face in pain. He had a white bandage on his nose and some blood on his upper lip. Tony leaned against the opposite wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest, raised one eyebrow while trying not to look as if he was actually worried. "Don't pretend, you son of a bitch, I know you love me and you're really, really sorry. And you know what? I forgive you, okay? Because I love you too, pal."

"Dude, what? I don't love you, man. That's totally gay, stop fucking around. Damn, now I've wasted my time with all this shit too. I'll see you guys tomorrow, you little pesky kids." He shook his head with a sigh before he pushed himself off the wall and walked down the corridor to the exit. It was already 4pm, he had wasted a whole hour.

When he opened the glass door and went outside, he saw an all-too-familiar brunette sitting there on a small wall with his arms wrapped around his backpack and fear in his eyes. Tony curled his eyebrows. What was Parker still doing here? He didn't want to, but he had to. He gathered up all his courage and walked towards the boy, who noticed his neighbour much too late and quickly looked up with big eyes.

"Hey, lemon boy," murmured Tony softly, avoiding eye contact most of the time, but when the boy didn't answer, he raised his head. "What are you still doing here?"

"You're Tony S-Stark, right? The boy next door.. right?" The smaller one wiggled his legs unsteadily around and bit his lower lip.

"Yes, I am, but that wasn't my question." He shifted his weight to one leg, tried to look a little cooler and also tried not to stare at the kid the whole time.

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I... um... Ben, my uncle... he was gonna pick me up, but he doesn't answer, and, yeah, so..-"

Tony took a deep breath before he just let his question shoot out of him. "Will you walk home with me? Then we won't be alone and I don't have to feel bad about leaving you here. I'll have to walk anyway."

"I, um... Sure, why not. I'm Peter, by the way, I'm not sure if you knew that yet. So, um, yeah..." He bounced off the wall and shouldered his bag before he walked down the street beside Tony. He was glad he was asked, he would never have dared to walk alone along the main road and then across country roads while it was already getting dark.

"To be honest, I didn't know, sorry." The older one gripped the straps of his backpack tighter so his ankles turned white. He looked down, barely daring to look at the smaller one, but he was so incredibly beautiful, how could he not?

Tony had to admit that his idea to ask Peter to come along was really good, considering the long way in darkness. Living in a village two hours away from the nearest school and then having to walk across country isn't the yellow of the egg, but Tony was used to it. He grew up in this house and even his parents always had to go this way back then, so he couldn't complain. As long as you caught the bus that ran twice before and after school, everything was fine. If you got detention or missed it, you were just unlucky and had to walk or to ask someone to pick you up. When Tony looked at the boy, he shivered under the cold of the night and he couldn't help but take off his jacket and put it over his shoulder, even if he was freezing to death himself. Peter looked up in surprise, then smiled thankfully and squeezed himself a little more by Tony's side.

"Are you afraid? I mean, in the dark?", asked the taller one quietly after a short time, while he was about to protect the boy with his arm.

"When I'm alone, sometimes." muttered Peter uncertainly, then looked up with his round eyes. Tony just wanted to bend down and kiss him, but he didn't. He'd talked to the boy for the first time today, so he couldn't ambush him with a kiss.

"And now? Are you afraid?", the older one asked after a long time of silence, just looking straight and avoiding trembling. This cold was killing him and the sweet boy with the far too big jacket next to him as well. Tony's jacket was like a blanket for Peter, his fingertips could barely be seen and then there was this magical smile on his lips.

The next moment the little one shook his head to answer the question that was asked a few minutes ago. "Somehow, no. This jacket makes me feel safe, I don't know... Thanks again.", mumbled Peter and crawled a little more into the fabric.

"Just the jacket?" He squinted his eyes over to Peter, suppressed his grin when he noticed the red cheeks.

"No, because of you too, my hero." Peter raised his arm and pointed to the first houses they saw after two hours walking. "Almost there!"

"Finally. My feet are killing me and I'm hungry, too. It's all Bucky's fault."

"Who's Bucky? Ah, wait, is that the boy with the long hair? The one you punched in the face?" They turned into a street and walked a few more blocks until they were in front of their homes and they were still standing outside to continued their talk. "Why did you hit him, anyway?"

"Not so important. He was an asshole again, and he was begging for it." Tony shrugged and walked towards Peter's house like it was normal, leaving him stunned. "You coming? I'll take you home like a gentleman."

"Oh, yeah, yeah... thanks, um, sorry, I'm coming." Peter hurried to get to Tony and smiled thankfully at him, while he was already knocking at the door. It was opened by a young woman with long brown hair who looked surprised and then tore Peter into her arms with relief.

"Oh God Peter! I was so worried! Ben feels so bad, he had to work late and his phone... and... and..."

"May, breathe! It's all fine, Tony brought me home, nothing happened." Peter slowly separated from his aunt and looked over his shoulder, smiling, at Tony, who only raised his hand briefly.

"Thank you, Tony... How can we ever repay you? You know what... You come over for dinner tomorrow and Ben takes you back after school, no buts."

A smile was on Tony's face and he quickly thanked her. "See you tomorrow, lemon boy."

It was until late in the evening - Tony was sitting up in his room, on his bed, thinking about what happened today - when he noticed that Peter still had his jacket. He sighed and looked over his shoulder out of the window to look into the boy's room. Apparently he was already asleep; the light was off and the curtains drawn. He just hoped that the younger one would give him his jacket back tomorrow.

Being back at school the next day and standing next to Bucky was more than uncomfortable for him. The teachers had all put a few more eyes on him and he felt like he was being watched almost the whole time. While he listened to the others talking, he kept an eye out for the boy he saw after a few minutes with another boy and a girl. And what took his breath away was that Peter was wearing his much too big jacket and looked outrageously cute. Without thinking about it, Tony walked up to the boy, ignoring that his friends were silent and watched him. After a short time Peter looked up and smiled softly, raised his hand and waved briefly before Tony stood right in front of him.

First he just stared at the little one, then opened his mouth and closed it again until he remembered why he came here. "My jacket."

"O-oh, yeah, right, sorry about that." Peter was about to take them off when Tony took the hem of the jacket in his hands and tightened it more.

"No, don't. It looks really good on you, makes you even sweeter," murmured Tony softly, just looking at his chest.

"Um... Thanks? I can give them back to you after dinner tonight, though. I mean-" When Tony looked up, he saw Peter biting his lower lip uncomfortably.

"You can keep them." The teenager smiled slightly, then nodded again, let his hands slide off the jacket, turned around and went back to his idiot friends, who all grinned at him knowingly. "One word and the next nose's broken."

"Since when?" Steve asked quietly, nodding towards Peter, who was giggling around with his friends.

"Since when what? Since when am I in love? Since when do I want to turn my whole life upside down for this one person? Since when would I do anything for that one person? Holy shit!" Tony angrily ran his fingers into his hair and ripped it. "I've been so fucking in love and I have been ever since I first saw him..." Unintentionally a tear of desperation rolled down his cheek as he squeezed his eyes to avoid the glances of his friends.

"Actually, I was going to ask you, since when are you into guys too, but it's probably not important. Come here." Steve then opened his arms and pulled his old friend into them, then held him tight. Tony put his head on Steve's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"It's okay, Stark," mumbled Bucky after a short while, before carefully putting his hand on Tony's back.

Tony then tore himself away from them, straightened his clothes, wiped away his tears and put on a smile. "Whatever, boys. Class is about to start, we should go inside, don't you think?" He didn't even wait for an answer, he immediately went into the school and to his locker to get his new books. As he turned around and walked on, a small figure suddenly stood in front of him, looking worried.

"Are you okay, Tony? I just.. saw you.. with the blond guy. You looked sad. Is it because of the jacket? Does it mean anything to you? Do you want it back?" Peter's eyes radiated such warmth and such concern for nothing. Tony felt bad that Peter thought it was his fault. Even if it was, but he didn't want him to think it was. He shook his head.

"No. It makes me happy that you're wearing mine. It's just... nothing." The taller one leaned his side against the lockers, looking down with a would-be cool look at the boy, who pressed his lips together, shook his head and flinched slightly when the bell rang. "Don't you want to go to class?"

"I'd rather talk to you. You're not well, something makes you sad...", Peter said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and panting discontentedly.

In the corner of his eye, Tony noticed Bucky and Steve walking past him, smiling softly and winking at him. They really could never stop. Deep inside, Tony wanted to prove something to them, just kiss the boy, but when he looked into the dark brown round eyes, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Shall we go to the library? Talk?", asked the younger one quietly, pulled gently on his sleeve and then went with his neighbour into the room of books. Once there, Peter sat down with Tony at a table that was a bit more private and then looked at him gently. "I haven't known you long. In fact, yesterday was the first time we spoke. But... I feel like I've known you for years, it's weird. And I just want you to be happy... that you know that you can talk to me when something's wrong.. And you can even come over to me anytime.. We could sit in my room and do something. Play games or talk or just lie on my bed and... It sounds crazy, sorry."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all, it's rather nice. I'd love to come to your house sometimes and do stuff like that. Or invite you over to my place. You know, Peter, I like you. I really like you a lot and that scares me a bit," confessed Tony with an insecure smile on his lips. Peter struggled with himself for a few seconds, but then smiled and nodded in agreement at him.

"If you're coming for dinner tonight, we can go to my room afterwards.. if you want?"

Tony nodded quickly, maybe even a bit too quickly.

Tony smiled slightly at the unfamiliar man as he took off his backpack and put it on his lap as he sat in the Parkers' car. His friends, who were waiting for the bus as usual, looked at him in confusion and then grinned a little. He couldn't even remember when the last time was when he was picked up from school in a car and apparently you could see it in his face because Peter, who was sitting next to him, was smiling happily at him and if Tony was honest, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"So, Tony, I heard you're coming over for dinner later?", asked Mr. Parker him after a short time in which Tony and the boy were just looking at each other smiling.

The teenager looked up quickly and nodded at the man. "Yes sir, that's right. Um... thanks again for picking me up and, of course, for the dinner later."

"Wow, easy, boy. No problem. I'd really do anything to thank you for bringing my boy home. I still can't forgive myself." With clenched lips, the man kept driving, only looking back through the rearview mirror once in a while.

"Ben it wasn't your fault, okay? Your boss was giving you trouble again, you couldn't help it. I was safe with Tony, he even gave me his jacket." Peter talked about Tony as if he was head over heels in love with him, as if he wasn't even there right now and Tony only noticed much too late that he was grinning up to his ears.

"You're welcome, little lemon," muttered he with a smile, placing his hand delicately on Peter's knee, who widened his eyes a little, but then wrapped both his hands around Tony's wrist and smiled sweetly at him.

"'Little lemon,' sweet... Look, Pete, he even has a nickname for you already. I think you're gonna be great friends," said Ben as he rounded the last corner and pulled into the Parkers' parking lot. "All right, guys, get out and get in. May should have dinner ready by now."

"Oh eat already? I was counting on tonight... um, yeah, okay, well, then now." Tony scratched the back of his head slightly, then got out of the car with Peter and Ben and went into the house behind them, where it already smelled wonderfully of food.

"We're more like those people who eat lunch instead of dinner, so don't be surprised. I hope you don't mind," Peter asked the taller one quietly, looked up at him and seemed a bit anxious. He was apparently panicking that Tony maybe leave because he might not be hungry.

"And we talk about dinner all the time." Tony laughed briefly, then put his arm around Peter's shoulder and walked into the dining room with him. "No, that's okay, I'm hungry anyway."

The room wasn't really large, but therefore totally cosy and the brown, long table that was standing there seemed to have already gone through some moves. The chairs seemed to be comfortable, Peter also immediately dropped on one and knocked on the chair next to him, indicating to Tony to sit down as well, which he did directly. After a short time the woman from last night entered the room with a pot in her hands, which she placed on the table in front of Peter and Tony. May smiled happily at Tony, greeted him very briefly and then sat down on the chairs opposite of them with Ben.

"So Tony, how you doing, my boy? Why don't you get something to eat, come on. Have as much as you want." May took the big spoon and filled Tony's plate so that he thanked her overburdened and looked at Peter, who also put something on his own and started eating.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Tony smiled broadly, kept peeking over at Peter, eating carefully and full of manners.

Suddenly it became quiet in the room and the two boys looked up in wonder. May had a satisfied smile on her lips, exchanged a few glances with her husband, who nodded knowingly and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Peter, my boy... Tony look at you like you're his entire world..", recognized she warmly, as warmly as Tony's cheeks after he had noticed how he had been staring at the boy the whole time.

"T-That's not true at all!" Tony tried to talk his way out, his cheeks should be as red as strawberries.

Peter's eyes fell on Tony's plate and he hesitated briefly before opening his mouth and quietly asked if he was finished and if they wanted to go to his room. He nodded quickly, apologized to the adults and then went upstairs behind Peter.

Tony tensed as he sat unsteadily on the edge of Peter's bed. The boy himself, meanwhile, grabbed all his dirty laundry off the floor and tossed it into some corner before scratching the back of his head in shame.

"I'm sorry.. about.. you know. I forgot to clean up..." Peter shyly clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back and forth unsteadily while he smiled slightly.

"That's okay. At least your room can still be considered as a room." A soft laugh escaped his throat and a moment later two brown eyes looked at him, squinted a bit because he had to grin too.

"Yours that bad?" The boy asked, tilting his head and grinning broadly.

"Oh darling, you have no idea. My room resembles a jungle and to be honest, I don't really feel like changing anything about it." Tony shrugged his shoulders indifferently, before he slid a little to the side to make room for the other, who now wanted to sit down on the bed as well. Unlike Tony, however, he crawled back to the wall, against he leaned with a smile.

"You don't have to sit there like that... Come here." Peter lightly tapped the mattress beside him with the flat of his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the older one took a seat beside him.

He made himself a little more comfortable before looking down at the boy with a smile. Just a little, they were almost at eye level as they sat there like that. Peter bit his lower lip briefly and batted his eyelashes quickly as he tried to tear his gaze away from the other. Silence fell between them and when Tony realized that Peter would not be looking at him anytime soon, he gently took his chin with two fingers and delicately turned his head in his direction. His smile fell easily, so captivated was he by the eyes in front of him.

"So.. You gonna kiss me.. or?" Peter murmured softly as he got closer and closer to the teenager. Along the way, he tried to read the other's body language so as not to have misinterpreted anything.

"So you want me to kiss you?" Tony asked in a somber voice before carefully sliding his hand up Peter's leg to his hip to pull him even closer. "I mean.. we're both boys and..–"

"I don't care. Doesn't matter. I want it, kiss me." He took it in his own hands now and pulled Tony close so he could feel the other's breath on his lip. "Kiss me..."

Tony opened his mouth in surprise, clawing deeper with his fingers into flesh beneath him before making a tortured sound and placing his lips on Peter's. He wasn't sure if that had been the boy's first kiss, but instead of asking, he just pressed his lips to the ones in front of him again. Peter ran his delicate fingers into Tony's hair and tugged lightly on them, so he was separated from the younger one with parted lips.

"Wow..."

"Wow....."

"Um. Can we just... lie here a bit now? And do nothing? While Holding hands?"

"Yes.. Yes we can."

• T H E E N D •

Thank u for reading c:

[make-me-imagine]

Hello love ♡

First of all, I want to congratulate you on your 5500 follower milestone! That's incredible♡! I love your writings, Mera, and I think that your ship celebration is a wonderful idea!

Could I please request a male matchup for Marvel, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings/Hobbit? With the additional "What you did for your first date" and "Ways they show you they love you without words" headcanons for all three of them? I'm female, she/her.

To begin with, I'm full of contradictions, utterly boring, very insecure and highly complicated. I would say my strongest personality traits are my kindness, calmness and sympathy. It's almost impossible to scare or upset me, because I always see the good in a person and recognize where anger, frustration and despair come from. There's no cruelty in me at all. I'm open and impartial towards everything and everyone, without any judgment or prejudice. I also have a calming/grounding effect on other people and animals, which is great because I honestly love all sorts of animals (I'm also a vegetarian because I refuse to intentionally hurt any animal). I have a faszination for chaos and rebellion, but am quite submessive/timid and a clean-/control freak myself. I'm always well-meaning and there to help others. I despise people who enjoy the suffering of others, just because they have the 'power' to. I'm very open-minded and I think that every opinion matters and that whatever someone has to say is important, at least to them and therefore for me. I will never ignore someone's sorrows and suffering and I try my hardest to help and comfort as best I can. But, even though I see the good in everything, I'm very insecure myself and have little love and understanding for myself. I have a very bad self-esteem and not a particularly positive self-perception, which mostly defines my actions. It makes me believe that I'm a burden to others and that I annoy them. I feel like I'm not "worthy" of love/there's nothing lovable about me, that there are too many problems in contrast to the little good things. Nevertheless, I would never change myself for anything or anyone, I'm who I'm. For me, dealing and interacting with people is really difficult, because I'm so clumsy and nervous around them and easily feel like I'm making a fool out of myself. Another reason is that I fear to be rejected and thrown aside when someone sees how boring, problematic and annoying I actually am. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I'm; I'm sure you wouldn't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (I'm always wearing only black, have dyed my hair a little and two ear piercings). I almost never like the "typical" heroes and righteous characters. And somehow I have such a undergoing disdain for any figure in the police and law department. Because I'm easily sad and not a funny/joking person, I like and enjoy people who aren't too serious themselves. And I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on and by your side, no matter what. I've always felt like I don't belong anywhere, like I'm the only cat in a room full of dogs. That's probably why I have a soft spot for the weirdos, outcasts, loners and "crazy" ones. Though, in my opinion, the definition of normal, crazy and real are very subjective. My whole life I've felt kinda judged, misunderstood and unwanted. People often falsely think that my unassuming nature is naivity and take my social-insecurity for aloofness and coldness. I'm also quite opinionated and aware of what I want, how I feel and who I am. I'm often questioning my surroundings, the traditions and rules and I have no problem challenging others, even authority. I'm a perfectionist, which often leads me to overthinking and that can be equally good and bad. I'm absolutely clueless in romance and totally oblivious to flirting because I'm 100% inexperienced in this stuff, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic.

-Luna 1/2

Hey Luna, I hope you like what I came up with. You provided a bit more information than was necessary lmao, I forgot the word limit for asks was extended. BUT, it was enough to give me a good feel for who to ship you with, so I hope you like them!

All ships are under the cut: 

Marvel: 

I ship you with Clint.

Clint was my immediate thought when reading your information. He is very loyal and kind-hearted and I think would be most drawn to those who are kind, loyal, and have strong morals. He would try his best to show you how great you are through your insecurities, he loves you for who you are and sees no flaws in you. He would be very good at showing his care and love for everything you are. He does not need words to know how you feel as he is very good at seeing through you and knowing what you feel without them.

What you did for your first date: 

You would have a fun yet casual day out date.

First you would go on a walk through a nearby park, talking and joking about everything and nothing. 

Then you would go to a musical instrument museum.

He loves music too, so this would be great for both of you.

You got to see the evolution of music and instruments and listened to various kinds of music.

You spent hours in the museum together.

To finish the date of you went to a restaurant, you chose the place to go too since he knew you were vegetarian and he wanted you to share your favorite place and meals with him. 

Ways they show you they love you without words: 

He loves physical touch as well, so he would often express himself through various physical actions. 

Placing a kiss to the back of your hand, or head. 

Hugging you close to him randomly. 

Wrapping you up in his arms on the couch when watching movies as he randomly kisses the side of your head or face. 

Best Friend: 

I think your best friend would be Steve. He is a very kind and compassionate person and would be very brotherly to you. he would never force you out of your comfort zone and would often check in on you. He can sometimes be a bit serious, but it never pushy towards you. He is very caring and helps you to accept yourself and things around you. 

-

Harry Potter: 

I ship you with Harry. 

Harry is a very encouraging and accepting person and I think he would see the best in you and would never stop showing and proving to you that you are worthy of love and compassion. He would find you to be beautiful and never sees the flaws that you try to convince yourself that you have. I think he would be one of the best people to show you that you matter and are beautiful. 

What you did for your first date:

You first met at Hogwarts, and since there was not much choice in dates he chose something simple that he knew you would enjoy. 

You left during dinner and took an evening stroll around the grounds.

You stayed out past curfew and sat on a nearby hill watching the stars together.

When you began to get sleepy you snuck back in and he walked you back to your room.  

Ways they show you they love you without words:

He brings you your favorite snacks and drinks randomly. 

Randomly drapes his cloak or jacket over your shoulders when you are cold. 

Will take your hand in his and rubs his fingers softly over your skin. 

Hugs you from behind randomly. 

Will play your favorite music throughout the house when he knows that you are stressed or sad. 

Best Friend:

Hermione. She is very good at making you feel better about the world and yourself. She is always open to going on long walks and listening to you rant about anything or just to talk when needed. She is good at giving advice and never lets you feel inferior to anyone. 

-

Lotr: 

I ship you with Aragorn. 

Out of everyone, I think Aragorn would be the best suited for you. He is kind, and patient and sees the best in everyone. He would see the best in you and is very good at showing it to you too. He will always make you feel wanted and needed. He does not let anyone take you for granted and will always stand up for you. He loves that you love music and will sing for you when you are stressed or having trouble falling asleep. 

What you did for your first date:

Aragorn being Aragorn, woud take you on a horse ride to a beautiful forest.

You would go exploring and walking through the meadows.

He would share his knowledge of various plants with you and pick you flowers along the way, making you a small bouquet. 

Once it got late, you two sat on the top of a hill and watched the sunset, waiting for the stars to come out before making your way back. 

Ways they show you they love you without words:

Surprising you with flowers randomly. 

Holding your hand as you walk through town on a quiet evening. 

Bringing you various plants and taking care of them for you.

Planting you a garden with all of your favorite plants and flowers. 

Hand-making you a special pendant to wear or hang somewhere in your home. 

Best Friend:

Out of everyone, I think you would form a bond with Eowyn. She is caring and quiet, and is very easy to get along with She is very good at making people aware of their worth and of feeling wanted. She would never make you angry or disappoint you. I think you two would become so close that you consider each other family. 

xx

[aurumacadicus]

🎃HALLOWEEN🎃

It’s a long one because it’s the only thing I’ve posted for the AU this year so bear with me lol. I’ve tagged it ‘long post’ if you want to blacklist it!

--

Steve and Bucky might have been a little naive for thinking that the only people to ever harass or hurt Tony were the weirdos with vampire fetishes. It had honestly just never occurred to them that a hunter would want to take on a vampire as old and powerful as Tony, though—for all that Tony bruised like a peach, he’d had no qualms showing that even as weak as he was, he could still hunt down and beat a person for hurting one of his own, and one steely-eyed look out of the corner of his eye could typically cow even the most unruly of monsters.

So when the diner goes quiet, they just assume it’s one of the less-seen monsters and go about their business. Steve hands Bucky a tray of food and turns back to the fryer. Then he jumps a foot in the air when he hears that same tray crash to the floor at the same time Clint slumps to the ground, hands clasped over his mouth to bite back a scream.

Steve bolts for the dining room and nearly trips over Bucky and the broken ceramic and ruined food. “What the f—”

“Steve,” Tony says softly, voice unyielding. “Be quiet.”

Steve looks back and forth between him and the two men at the door. They look like they’ve watched too much Van Helsing with the way they’re dressed, leather coats down to the floor, leather pants, gloves with crosses on them—then he nearly swallows his tongue when he sees the guns in one of their hands, pointed directly at Tony. The other guy isn’t holding guns, but he does have some in a belt around his waist.

“We just want the vampire,” the guy with the guns drawn says slowly. “No need to cause a fuss.”

“He’s not going with you,” Bucky snarls, bristling.

“You can’t just come into my diner and threaten my customers,” Steve adds acidly. He circles the counter to stand in front of Tony, glaring at them. “Leave or I’ll call the police.”

Bucky lets out a growl from behind the counter, ready to leap over it. “And don’t come back!”

“Guess we’re going to need to have a fuss,” the guy sighs, but he doesn’t actually look too unhappy about it.

Steve sees the gun moving and lunges for it, terrified that they’ll shoot someone, and they grapple with it for a few seconds before he feels something crack against the back of his skull, and he whimpers and slumps to the ground, vision going dark.

“Steve!” Tony and Bucky cry out as the hunter kicks him aside, hard, so he goes rolling to the other side of the diner. Tony makes a move to get up and run to him, but the glint of the gun following his movement makes him stop in his tracks, still stuck in his seat, so Bucky climbs over the counter and curls around him instead, paws carefully curling around him to check the damage.

“Now, these guns have silver bullets,” one of the hunters says, smirking, and idly aims one at Bucky. “Be a shame if I had to waste one on a useless werewolf.”

“No-!” Tony chokes out, reaching out as if to stop him, but he can’t risk moving to actually get the gun—he could pull the trigger and Bucky could still be hurt before he got to it. He watches Bucky flinch even as he keeps his eyes on the hunters, Steve curled up in his lap, and knows he can’t let the hunters hurt them. “No,” he says again, defeated.

“We don’t want a fuss,” the other guy says again, smirking.

“No fuss,” Tony agrees miserably. “I’ll come. Just—just don’t hurt anyone else, please—”

“If you behave, sure,” the guy says, smug.

Tony swallows thickly, hating that he can’t tell if he’s sincere or not, if he’ll just come back to harass everyone after he’s gone anyway. He takes a deep, shuddering breath as he climbs off his stool at the bar, trying not to show how scared he actually is when he sees a few of the diners hiding their children’s eyes from the scene.

“Hey,” someone grunts.

Tony blinks, surprised, then turns to the scruffy-looking man that had been sitting next to him. He’s still eating his burger, as if Tony isn’t being held at gunpoint to leave and probably go to his death. “Huh?”

The guy glances at him. “It’s cold out,” he says gruffly. “Don’t forget your coat.”

“My coat?” Tony says, and looks down at the black leather jacket hanging on the stool. It’s not his. In fact, he’s quite certain the guy didn’t come in with a jacket either. Tony doesn’t get cold very often anyway, so he usually doesn’t wear coats. But the man says nothing else, and clearly isn’t going to claim the jacket, and Tony thinks it would be nice to take it with him, if only because it might still smell like the diner, so he takes it in shaking hands anyway.

It’s soft and supple in his hands, and through the terror, he can’t believe that someone would just leave such a nice coat behind. He hopes when they find his body that they can return the jacket to its rightful owner. He strokes the smooth leather with his thumbs as he approaches the hunters, trying to soothe himself as he wonders what will happen—are they taking him to give to someone else, or are they going to kill him the moment they get to a secluded area? He doesn’t know, and his stomach sours with the realization that he rather would like to be prepared for his death if it was coming than not.

As soon as he gets close to them, the hunter not holding his guns reaches out and grabs his wrist, and Tony can’t help a startled yelp as a silver handcuff is clicked around his wrist. He should have expected this, should have known—he starts to struggle on instinct, doesn’t want to go like a cow being led to slaughter—and he lets out a dismayed sound as he drops the jacket and they start to drag him out, the silver of even just the one cuff enough to weaken him so they can drag him out.

“WOW!” someone shouts irritably, and the three of them stop moving in shock. They turn, confused, to find the coat wriggling about on the ground. “THAT WAS FUCKING RUDE!” the coat adds when they say nothing.

“S-sorry,” Tony says, confused.

“You’re under duress so it’s okay,” the coat tells him, and then it shivers and ripples and twists about like liquid until it’s forcing itself up, up, and is forming a long neck and a head that splits open to show rows and rows of sharp white teeth. It stares at them with white, pupil-less eyes before unhinging its jaw and surging forward to catch the head of the hunter holding Tony in its mouth, bite down, and sever his head from his body.

Tony watches the body fall, stunned.

The other hunter whips around to shoot the creature, but a hand grabs his wrist and twists so that one of the guns falls from his hands.

Tony turns to stare up at the scruffy man who had told him to take the coat. “Y-you—”

“Go see to your boyfriend,” the scruffy man grunts as the coat shifts, squirms, and then begins crawling up his body.

The hunter tries to shoot the scruffy man, but the bullets hit the coat’s(?) surface instead, bouncing off harmlessly onto the floor. He barely gets one prayer out before the coat covers the scruffy man’s head, forming a face there instead, and the face smiles very, very meanly before its mouth opens again.

Tony rushes over to Steve and Bucky without looking back at them, but he still hears the hunter’s scream and then the wet sound of flesh being severed again.

“He’s alive, just hurt,” Bucky says immediately, as if knowing Tony needs the reassurance. “You take Stevie to the hospital, and I’ll call the police.”

“Ok—” Tony begins.

“What for?” someone cuts in.

They turn. The man—coat—creature? It’s halfway out the door, the hunters’ bodies in each massive hand.

“...People are going to ask questions when they find headless bodies,” Bucky says weakly.

The creature gives them a wide, sharp smile. “What headless bodies?” it asks, and then leaves.

Everyone in the diner watches them go, silent. The only sign that it had happened is the arterial spray on the floor.

Finally, one of the more talkative goblins breaks the silence to say, “Whoa! Please tell me that I wasn’t the only one who shit his pants!” The tension snaps, and every single person in the diner sags with relief.

“Pietro, you and Clint are in charge!” Bucky barks back into the kitchen.

“Clint is puking,” Pietro says, looking pale.

“You’re in charge,” Bucky says, and when Pietro looks terrified, adds, “I also do not actually want you to be in charge, but we’ve got to take Steve to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Pietro says, looking at Steve in concern.

Steve doesn’t believe them when they say a homeless guy wearing a monster coat saved them after he’s released from the hospital with a concussion, but Tony’s still here and he’s safe, so he figures it doesn’t matter.

Things go back to normal in the diner. Supernatural creatures continue to come in and get food. Many of them rib Steve for being his usual combative self, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, says if he didn’t protect them, who would? The creatures have no answer for that, so they simply leave bigger tips for a few weeks.

Then the scruffy-looking guy comes back, sitting at the counter next to Tony.

“Is this the homeless dude you were talking about?” Steve asks bluntly.

“We’re not homeless!” the scruffy guy squawks, offended, as Bucky and Tony hiss at Steve for being rude.

“You look homeless,” Steve says, unimpressed.

“Stop insulting the guy who saved Tony!” Bucky barks, grabbing Steve by the back of the neck and shaking him a little.

“Yeah, stop insulting us,” a blob says from the scruffy guy’s shoulder, smug. “We saved Tony!” Upon closer inspection, the little blob has the same eyes and teeth of the larger monster.

“Thank you,” Steve says, immediately switching from sassy to sincere. “We really do appreciate it. I hope those hunters get what they had coming to them.”

“What,” the blob says, perplexed.

“They will,” the scruffy guy says hastily when Tony and Bucky frantically wave at them and make slashing moves at their throat from behind Steve, because Steve had no idea the hunters are dead. Steve believes in justice for all, including the supernatural, but he also believes that it should be taken through the courts so that it’s not all just senseless murder.

The blob stares at them, uncomprehending, then shrugs it off as unimportant. “Anyway, you can pet me as thanks,” it says, crawling down the guy’s arm to the counter and over to Tony. “It felt really nice when you were petting me the first time.”

“Oh,” Tony says, charmed, and gently begins rubbing the blob’s… entire self. It’s very pliant. He smooths his thumb over what he assumes is the blob’s head like he had when the blob had been a coat. “I’ve heard of your kind. You’re a vengeance worm, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a worm,” the blob says, sounding offended, but it’s also purring and it isn’t moving away from being pet. “I’m Venom. This is Eddie my host and also I love him. He feeds me tater tots.”

“Well, I think you both deserve to have tater tots for saving us,” Steve decides.

“Burger for me please, I can’t subsist off of vengeance and tater tots,” Eddie adds quickly.

Steve rolls his eyes, amused. “Sure,” he says, and then goes back into the kitchen to cook it.

“This is the best, Eddie,” Venom purrs, wiggling in delight.

“Sure is,” Eddie agrees gleefully. “Because now I know YOU’RE CALLED A VENGEANCE WORM.”

“I AM NOT,” Venom hollers, but he also doesn’t move from where Tony is petting him, instead puddling more firmly into his hand.

[fanficwriter013]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 14

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1539

Warnings: None

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Don’t forget, don’t forget don’t forget. @avengerscompound​

Chapter 14: Ponies and Powers

I sat through the meeting trying to pay close attention even though I didn’t really understand most of it, and most of all trying not to look bored or uninterested.  I did notice they all seemed to arrive late, though Thor didn’t say anything.  Also, they would speak to him as if he were a child that didn’t understand what was going on.

Afterward, we returned to our chambers to find Loki looking frustrated as Riley climbed him and Steve and Tony bickering about something.  Only Pietro seemed calm as he sat on the floor with a large book he definitely couldn’t read.

“Good,”  Loki said, lifting Riley off of him.  “I’m leaving.  Your children are insane.”  He pointed at Steve and Tony.  “And those two are worse.”

“Oh my goodness,”  I said.  “You just called the babies insane.”

He got up and ruffled Pietro’s hair.  “Well, perhaps not my precious.  But those three.  And that one.”  He added pointing at Fandral who was standing at the door next to Hogun.

“Oh, Loki.  Always playing so coy.”  Fandral teased.

“Eat rocks.”  Loki snarked, earning laughter and a wink from Fandral.

Loki went to sweep out of the room as I moved to the couch, but Thor caught him by the arm.  “My council was late this morning and then showed up all at once.  Perhaps I am being paranoid, but it felt suspicious.  I want you to dig into it.”

Loki summoned a small dagger from the air and picked his nails with it.  “I’ll take care of it.”

“Loki,”  I called.  He turned to look at me and I mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to him.  He gave a very subtle nod and stalked out of the room.

Riley moved into my lap and Steve and Tony started up bickering about Steve’s ability to make bots again.  There seemed to be a general air of tension in the room.  Steve seemed to be slightly distracted as Tony ranted at him about not following instructions and his need to get the bots done as quickly as possible.

“Tony, do you think you can give it a rest?”  I asked.

“But, Elise…”

“No buts.  Enough.” I said.  “Are you okay, Steve?”

“Yeah.  I’m sorry.  I feel helpless and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.”  He said.  “I want to punch something.  Or throw knives.”

Riley toddled over and looked up at Steve.  “You gonna frow knifes?”

Steve chuckled and shook his head, picking her up.  “It doesn’t look like it today.”

“I frow dem?”  She asked.

“Not until you’re 25.”  He said.

“But daddy,”  She whined.

“But Riley.”  He whined back.  She scrunched up her nose and started to giggle.  “Okay, little monster?”

“Otay.”  She said.

“Captain, it would be an honor to spar with you if you wish to work out some of that frustration,” Hogun said with a small bow.

Steve sighed.  “I think I would really like that.  After lunch?”

Hogun nodded and as if they were summoned by the mention of lunch the chef arrived with his trolleys of food.  Once again Riley used all her charms on him.  They definitely had become a little fan club for each other.  It was quite sweet really.

Riley and Pietro ended up both sitting in Tony’s lap at the table as they fed each other and occasionally Tony too.

“It’s cute how much Riley likes the chef, isn’t it?”  I said as I sat watching them.

“He and his family have served my family for generations,” Thor said.

“He caws me pwincess,” Riley said.

“Because you are one, honey,” Tony said.

“No…”  Riley said, shaking her head.  “I’m a wawwia.”

“You can be both,” Tony said and she shook her head again.  “Yes, you can, sweetheart.”

“Pwincesses wear pink.”  She said, firmly.  “I is a venger.”

“When Loki is your aunt, she is a princess,”  Thor said.  “She doesn’t wear pink, does she?”

“No.  Don’t wear pink.  Is bwack pants.”  Riley said.  She furrowed her brow and turned to Pietro and they both started babbling animatedly to each other.

We all watched on amused before Riley turned back to us.  “Otay, I be a pwincess.”

Steve started laughing.  “Well, then.  That’s good.”

“Twins, huh?”  I giggled.

“Couple of little weirdos,” Tony said and kissed their heads.

****

After lunch, I went with Thor, Fandral and the children to an arena outside so Thor could start teaching Riley how to control her powers.  Fandral had gotten a pony and was currently letting Pietro pat it and introduce himself.  While Thor spoke to Riley about his powers, she kept looking over at the pony wistfully.

“You need to get in touch with your emotions, little bug.  So that your powers stay in your control.”  Thor said.  “See if you can make a breeze for me.”

“Daddy, I dunno how,” Riley said.

“It has to be natural,”  Thor said.  “Guide the power as it flows through you.”

Riley scrunched up her face and made a little growl sound, though nothing happened.  Thor let out a breath and sat down on the ground, crossing his legs and putting Mjolnir on the ground beside him.  He patted his lap and Riley climbed into it, still looking over at the pony, which Pietro was now sitting on while Fandral showed him how to hold the reins.

“You can go to the pony when we’re done here, bug,” Thor said holding his hand out.  He flicked his fingers and lightning danced over them.

Riley’s attention immediately snapped back to Thor.  “Can I touch it, daddy?”  She asked, holding her chubby little hand out.

“Yes, darling,”  He said.  “It feels warm, like the sun on your face.”

She ran her hand over his fingers and giggled.  “Tickles.”

“When I do this, I feel very calm and at peace.”  He said.  “Try and think about when you feel like that.  When you are warm and safe and Daj is singing you a song while daddy Bruce is cuddling you and rocking you.  Maybe you can smell Daddy Bucky cooking your favorite food.”

Riley closed her eyes as she kept her hand on Thor’s and as he spoke a soft breeze picked up and ruffled her hair.

“There you go.  Well done, little bug.”  Thor praised.

She smiled and opened her eyes.  “I did it!”  She said excitedly and turned to me.  “You see, mommy?  I did it!”

“I saw.  You’re so clever, bug!”  I praised.

“Shall we try another?”  Thor asked.

Riley looked over at Pietro riding the pony and nodded her head.

“When I make a loud thunderstorm, and the rain is heavy and hurts when it hits your skin, I think of all the bad things and people I’ve lost.  I am sad and very, very angry.”  He explained.  “Do you remember when those people scared your mommy yesterday?  How angry you got and how you were a little scared too?”

“Wasn’t scared.”  She said.

He laughed, his deep booming laugh and kissed the top of her head.  “Of course you weren’t,”  he said.  “Try and picture it anyway.”

She scrunched up her face and balled her hands into fists.

It took a little more coaxing from Thor but after a little while, a large gust of wind tore through the arena.  It shoved us and spooked the pony.

“Do you think you could keep that at a minimum?”  Fandral called as he grabbed Pietro and soothed the pony.

“Sorry, friend!”  Thor called back as he hugged Riley and patted her back.  “Well done, daughter.”  He said.  “You are learning very quickly.  I had great difficulty learning this as a child.  My father had to have Mjolnir forged to help me.”

“I get a Mew Mew?”  She asked.

“If you need something to channel your abilities, I will have something forged.  It won’t be like Mjolnir though.  It will be your own device.”  He said.  “We do need you to be able to control it so that you don’t blow things down when you're mad at Pietro.”  He looked over at me and smiled.  “Now I just have to work out how to do that.”

I chuckled and leaned over and kissed him.

“Gwoss.  Don’ do that.”  Riley said pushing us apart.

Thor laughed deeply and ruffled her hair.  “Alright, your majesty.  Let us see if we can access some more emotions that your powers are attached to.”

Thor had her go through a few emotions, pride brought up a mini whirlwind around us, envy’s wind came in bursts like it was trying to push you over.  After he’d identified a few different ones he had her try and call them up by describing which one he wanted.  It didn’t always work but when it did she got very excited.

“I’m doin’ it, daddy.  I’m doin’ it!”  She said, clapping her hands.

“Yes, you are, little bug,” Thor said, proudly.

She pointed at Pietro riding the pony and Thor laughed heartily.  “Alright, I think you’ve earned it.”

They both took turns riding the pony until they were completely worn out.  By the time Thor and I had carried them back to our chambers and put them into bed, they were already asleep.

// NEXT

[clintashaotp]

Author’s note/summary: Sorry I’ve been so absent for a while. Hopefully, you all are still interested in a little fanfic! TW for miscarriage. Clintasha centric. 

Let Me Help You

1,895 Words

...

The two lines across the test are clear as day, but Natasha still doesn’t believe it. There’s no way. There’s literally no way. How could this even be possible? She doesn’t have time for a baby. She can’t have a baby, not right now. How is she supposed to tell Clint?

It’s late, but instead of going to bed she stays up, searching the internet for answers. How is she supposed to be a mother? How can she give her baby a childhood when she doesn’t know what a childhood is supposed to be? 

Weeks pass. She doesn’t tell Clint. She keeps meaning to tell him, but every time it seems like a good break in the conversation he starts to ramble on about something new, or turns on the TV, or trips over his own goddamn feet and she has to laugh along with him at his clumsiness. To be honest, she has no idea how to tell him. He’s been so happy lately, getting to be closer friends with the team and finding things that he’s interested in other than missions and training. She doesn’t want to scare him. 

When they are called for a mission she is almost relieved. Maybe she can talk to him afterwards, they’ve always been a little more open after missions. Natsaha takes a quick picture of the positive pregnancy test as proof before they board the jet and when she throws her stuff into the corner she sits down in a seat next to Clint, but just barely manages to mask her sigh of disappointment as Tony and Steve climb up the stairs as well. Fantastic. 

The cramping starts when they are halfway over the Atlantic ocean. Natasha tries her best to act normal and not let it show, but she knows its only a matter of time before Clint notices. Thankfully, their mission is distracting enough, and as Tony and Steve pull up the blueprints for the pirated ship they have to board, Natasha subtly shifts to a more comfortable position. 

“Ready?” Clint waggles his eyebrows at her and Natasha snorts. 

“Of course, weirdo. Put on your stupid parachute,” she teases back, clasping the buckles around her shoulders. 

“This is a simple mission. Get in, get the captives, and get out. There are only two captives, so this shouldn’t be a hard one,” Steve recounts, and Tony shrugs, finishing the last of his Redbull. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Nothing Iron Man can’t handle,” he quips with a smug grin, and Natasha and Clint roll their eyes in synch. 

The light banter seems fun and easy, but Natasha’s stomach drops when she feels the stabbing pain in her abdomen again. She doesn’t want to let the thought cross her mind, so she busies herself in bothering Clint, fluffing his hair with her hand. 

“Alright kids, drop door opening in three, two, one…” Tony slams the switch and the door at the back of the jet lowers. Natasha and Clint hop out first, Steve next--no parachute for the super soldier--and Tony speeds along past them, letting JARVIS keep the jet alive in the air. 

They land on the deck, and the jarring movement of contact almost makes Natasha cry out as sharp pain flashes through her back and stomach. She grits her teeth and sheds her parachute. 

“Clint, find a perch, scout from above, shout out positions from where you’re stationed,” Steve instructs. “Tony and Natasha go down below deck and take out the guards by the engines so they don’t steer off course. I’ll sneak into the lower floors to try to find the captives. There aren’t a lot of people on this ship, so try to stay away from lethal blows.”

“Got it,” Natasha responds, and Clint and Tony give affirmative answers. 

Natasha takes the lead, but the heavy clunking of Tony’s boots behind her reminds her of his presence. She slides down the ladder, trying to ignore the heavy, anxious feeling in her chest. Something is wrong, and it’s not the hostage situation. 

“I’ll take left, you take right,” Tony shrugs, and Natasha agrees with a nod, sprinting off towards the right and hitting one of the men with a spinning back kick, her body screaming in protest. The man lands a punch on her jaw and she grunts, pulling out her batons and knocking him along the side of his head, his body crashing into the wall and laying still. 

She knocks out the other two men with much less effort, and spins around to see Tony leaning casually against the other wall. 

“Well, you certainly took your time,” he smirks, and Natasha rolls her eyes at him. 

“Not all of us have repulsor beams, Metalhead,” she retorts, but a wave of pain cuts her off and she gasps as it hits her. The horrible stabbing in her stomach makes her head spin and she has to lean forward to steady herself against the wall. 

“Woah, you okay?” Tony steps forward, but Natasha cuts him off. 

“I’m fine,” she snaps, standing up straight. “Let’s go find Cap.”

“You didn’t get hit, did you?” Tony asks nervously, and Natasha shakes her head. 

“I said I’m fine,” she growls, and starts climbing up the ladder. When she climbs into the upper deck, she frowns. She feels something warm and wet and for a second wonders if her period came to surprise her, but it can’t be. She’s pregnant. Natasha almost gasps out loud when she realizes. There’s only one thing that it could be No. She can’t be losing Clint’s baby. Not now. 

Thankfully, her suit is black and can cover up the blood, so she stalks past Tony to follow the sound of Cap’s voice. The hostages are already untied when they reach the loading dock, and Clint is just putting away his last arrows into his quiver. 

The cramping in Natasha’s abdomen is just short of agony, and she can feel her hands shaking slightly with the mixture of fear and pain. She clenches her hands into fists to hide it, but she knows Clint will notice. She can’t tell him. She can’t tell him that she lost his baby. He doesn’t even know she’s pregnant. 

“I think it’s time to call it a day,” Tony shrugs, “I’ll call JARVIS to fly the ship down and we can load everyone up.”

Clint moves to stand next to Natasha, his quirky trademark grin plastered across his face, but he falters when he sees her protective stance. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly as to not alert the others, but Natasha just shakes him off. 

“I’m fine, Barton, stop your worrying,” she tries, but her voice hitches as another wave of pain wracks through her and he steps forward, putting a protective hand on her shoulder. 

“Nat, did you get hurt?” his voice is a little more urgent now, and he guides her into a corner, away from everyone else. 

“No. No, everything’s fine,” she mutters, but she bites her lip as she tries to fight away the pain. That’s when she feels the blood running down her leg.

“Are you bleeding?” he asks urgently, and Natasha groans, leaning against the wall and letting herself slide to the floor. “Nat. Natasha!”

That’s when she allows a tear to slide down her face. She looks up at him, his expression full of fear and concern. She doesn’t want to tell him. 

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll call Steve, I swear I will,” Clint mutters, crouching next to her, and she leans against him, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m losing it,” she whispers softly, and she lets her head fall against his shoulder. She can’t bear to look up at him, and for a moment he doesn’t speak. She’s not sure if he understood, or if he’s angry with her, but his strong arms wrap around her softly. 

“Natasha,” he whispers, and she feels a sob building up in her body. 

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, but she still doesn’t want to look up at him. “It was yours, Clint. Ours. And I’m losing it.”

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Clint says quietly, and Natasha lifts her head slightly. His expression is strange, and the moment it would take her to decipher it is gone when Tony’s loud voice yells for them to come to the jet.

Clint helps her stand, letting her lean against him, and they walk towards the jet where it is hovering next to the loading dock. Steve and Tony help the captives board, and Clint subtly helps Natasha onto the wavering dock, holding her close as they cross the jet to sit in the furthest, most private corner. Thankfully, Steve and Tony have learned to respect their privacy, so they have the corner to themselves, the two captives sitting up front with the captain. 

“Do you want to change?” Clint hands her her bag, with an extra change of clothes inside. She heads into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, and changes slowly into her leggings and Clint’s shirt. She pulls a pad out of the outer pocket of her bag and puts it on, the pain making her hands shake. She just wants it all to be over. 

When she leaves the bathroom, Clint has already changed into some more comfortable shorts, and he is bare chested, sitting on the floor against the wall of the jet. She sees Tony giving them a weird look in the rearview mirror from where he is steering, as they normally don’t change until after they get back to the compound, but thankfully he doesn’t question them. 

Natasha leans against Clint, his legs on either side of her, and she closes her eyes, trying her best to breathe through the pain. 

“I didn’t know you were pregnant,” he says softly. Natasha can’t see his face, but she’s scared to think what his expression is right now

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I was going to after this mission, I promise,” she replies, then hisses as a sharp stabbing pain hits her. She groans, arching her back, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it doesn’t help. 

“Let me help,” Clint says gruffly, and his warm hands press into her back, massaging her cramping muscles. She can feel the calluses on his fingers from billions of hours shooting his bow in the training room, feel the powerful strength behind his hands. But he is gentle. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says eventually, and Clint presses a soft kiss to her neck. 

“All I care about is that you’ll be safe,” he whispers into her ear. “I know everything hurts right now, but we’ll get you to a doctor and you’ll be alright.” he pauses for a moment, and stops massaging her back so he can hug her close to him. “And...if you wanted, maybe we could try again later.”

Natasha spins around to face him, ignoring the throbbing in her abdomen. “Clint,” she murmurs, and he gives her a little half-smile. 

“I mean it,” he nods, and she gives him a long, sweet kiss. When they break apart, he pushes a strand of her red curly hair behind her ear, looking her dead in the eyes. “Natasha, I want a family with you.” 

[hawkbucks]

Bucky and Steve’s entire friendship starts when Bucky spots Steve reading a Captain America comic on the playground, promptly sits down next to him, and goes: “You like Captain America? He’s cool, but I think Winter Soldier is better.” Steve, of course, is offended that this kid has the audacity to imply someone is better than his beloved Captain, so they argue about the finer points of the Captain and the Soldier, discussing their actions at such depth that you’d forget they’re just a couple of 3rd graders with scraped knees and wild hair. At the end, they agree to come to the conclusion that the Captain and the Soldier are equally as cool. Whenever they’re able–a.k.a when Bucky saves up enough of his allowance to afford a few issues for him and Steve (because, as much as Steve protests against Bucky buying him things, Bucky knows he wants that Falcon issue)–they head down to the comic store around the corner from their school run by a kindly man named Abraham. Abraham slips them snacks sometimes: bags of chips, candy bars, etc. If they prove they’re doing good at school, they also get free books. Tables and chairs are scattered around the store, usually reserved for the game nights that the store hosts, but Abraham allows them to do their schoolwork on those tables. They try to draw out their visits as long as they can, because they just love exploring the store, and Abraham is such a good guy, you know? One day, when Steve is over at Bucky’s house and they’re watching cartoons, Steve gets an idea. He turns to Bucky and proclaims that they should open up a store together. It’ll be the best store ever! Bucky sagely nods before he runs off to grab a notebook and pencils to plan it. Their store looks as follows: 3 stories at the minimum, and there’ll be a slide leading from each floor to the one below. They’ll have cool statues to put on display, a gigantic collection to sale, and a pyrotechnics display at the cash register at Bucky’s suggestion. And they’ll make a lot of money. It’ll be the best store ever.

Unfortunately, said best store ever ends up being pushed to the back burner once they realize that opening and managing a business isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially for a couple of kids. “We’ll just do it later, when we’re grown ups,” Steve says, and Bucky agrees. They grow older. Steve turns from the shortest kid on the playground to the guy that people have to crane their necks up to talk to (Bucky teases him and says that he’s become the real life Captain America. Steve retorts that that makes Bucky the Winter Soldier), and Bucky grows his hair out, looking more and more like a hipster everyday (which he vehemently denies. “Where’s your manbun?” “I will smack you.”). Interests come and go, but they still find themselves stepping into Abraham’s shop. Abraham’s older now, grayer, but he still slides them Snickers every once in a while.   Bucky ends up enlisting in the army to help pay for his tuition while Steve goes to art school to get a degree in illustration. An incident with an IED later, and Bucky comes home with an honorable discharge and an empty left sleeve. Steve visits him as often as he can, usually filling in the gaps when Bucky’s own family isn’t over. Sometimes Natasha (a girl they befriended in middle school after she came dressed as Black Widow for Halloween) and Sam (a boy they got to know during freshman year of high school when he complimented Bucky on his prime taste in superheroes because of the Falcon button pinned to his backpack) drop in, with Natasha keeping him company by watching trashy reality TV with him and Sam listening to him vent and offering a shoulder if he ever needs one. Hell, Abraham sends him a card through Steve when he heard about what happened. (He ends up getting all of them gift baskets as thanks for being there. Sam tries to decline his at first, but the lure of raspberry tarts was too strong.) One day, Steve comes over with Indian takeout and turns on some good ol’ History Channel. “Speaking of history,” Steve says in between bites of naan, “do you remember that store we wanted to open when we were younger?” Hit with that blast from the past, Bucky nods. He doesn’t have the notebook that they used when they first came up with the idea, but he stills remembers the basics of what they put down. Like the pyrotechnics display that he wanted. Steve asks if he’s still open to the idea, and Bucky replies, around a mouthful of rogan josh, that he is. It’s… been a while since he’s gotten out of his apartment to do something other than shop for groceries, pop into the Chinese restaurant right next to the building, or visit the doctor for those couple of appointments about him possibly getting a prosthetic, courtesy of some company that’s looking to do test runs of their new line. A whole bunch of Googling and Binging and Yahoo Answers-ing and they think they might have a slight idea of how to start a business. Slight is the operative word here. Like with many things, they end up going to Abraham for help. Abraham is a godsend, answering all of their questions and offering to point his customer base their way once he closes up shop for good (Steve may or may not have gotten a bit misty-eyed hearing about Abraham’s inevitable retirement). Fast forward, and their shop is open. Steve drew up the logo (gotta put that degree to use somehow), while Bucky was the one who came up with the interior design (and no pyrotechnics displays). Natasha and Sam are hired, with both of them helping to run their social media presence. They get a decent amount of people at their grand opening despite their location being slightly out of the way, and apparently those people liked their experience because they end up getting a handful of regulars, most notably some guy named Clint that Natasha claims to know, a pair of Norwegian brothers named Thor and Loki that Sam swears are actual gods, a timid PhD student named Bruce, and a woman named Carol and her girlfriend, Maria who are the biggest Captain Marvel fangirls that they’ve ever met. Their popularity grows–especially after Abraham closes–and they soon find themselves making a healthy bit of profit. Healthy enough that they’re able to decorate their shop more (Natasha insists that they place a life-sized statute of Black Widow near the front doors) and they tack-on other things, like shirts and posters and snacks to sell. Bucky gets his prosthetic somewhere around the first month that they’ve been open. It’s a wickedly shiny silver, and Steve suggested that he place a red star sticker on his wrist (because his shoulder isn’t visible 99.9% of the time) to represent Bucky’s favorite hero, and Bucky actually does that. Sometimes people ask to touch it. He lets them. Sometimes people ask what happened. He deflects them. At some point, a guy walks in with ruffled hair and glasses and Bucky nearly chokes on the soda that he’s drinking. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of cute customers, but that guy’s cute, and he’s gonna end up making a fool of himself. It’s not like he can ask Steve to talk instead because Steve just went out on his damn lunch break. He tries not to stare at the guy as he peruses the shelves and rifles through the boxes of back issues they have set out in the middle of the floor. He tries really, really hard, taking his phone out and scrolling through whatever social media website and liking the replies to their posts. Every once in a while, he glances at the door, half-expecting Steve to walk in at any time.

Then the guy (now dubbed Cutie in Bucky’s mind) comes up and he smiles at Bucky in greeting and Bucky would probably sob if that wouldn’t make him come off as a complete weirdo. Cutie hauls up a veritable stack and places it on the counter. Despair courses through Bucky’s veins when he sees the Captain America comic on top, because he could do so much better. “Mmm, I’m just getting those because my friend likes Captain America,” Cutie says and oh, shit, did he say that out loud? “I’m partial to Iron Man myself.” “Iron Man’s cool an’ all,” Bucky replies, somehow managing to keep himself from running out the front door and never looking back, “but he’s not my favorite.” Cutie’s eyes flick down to the red star sticker on his wrist. “Let me guess: Winter Soldier?” Bucky clicks his tongue. “Yup.” Cutie laughs, and it’s a really nice sound that Bucky wouldn’t mind hearing again. When he’s finished ringing Cutie up, he mentions the membership that they have going and how members have a pull list and would he like to sign up?  Mentally, he crosses his fingers that Cutie says yes because it would be a shame if he only got to see him once in his life. A damn, damn shame.

So, he should be thankful that Cutie says yes and he finds out that Cutie’s name is actually Tony and Tony just moved from Malibu and it was his friend James–whom he calls Rhodey–that recommended this place to him. (He goes through a list of James in his head, and figures that it most likely is James Rhodes, who also happens to be a member. He should send him a gift basket.)

Tony ends up leaving around the same time Steve comes back from his lunch break, and Steve must have this sort of sixth sense because he sends Bucky a knowing, amused look.

Tony drops by every 2nd and 4th Wednesday, and it’s always at 12:40 PM, give or take a few minutes. His pull list isn’t particularly long–or at least, it isn’t something that he needs to drop in twice a month for, but Bucky’s not going to complain, not when he’s able to see the way Tony’s eyes sparkle when the topic crosses over to a story arc that he’s passionate about or the way the tip of his tongue pokes out between his lips when he becomes engrossed in what he’s reading. They swap stories, with Bucky finding out that Tony used to be in the robotics club when he was in high school and how his father used to tell him that comics were all “bullshit,” so that threw him off of them for a bit. He always asks Bucky if he recommends something before he leaves, if he saw that episode of Game of Thrones, or if he’s simply feeling okay.

Tony’s visits last longer and longer and longer, until it’s basically just him and Bucky talking for hours on end, their topics ranging from comic cons to what they had for dinner last night. (Steve laments how he’s always the one stuck helping customers because he doesn’t have the heart to interrupt him and Tony when they look so concentrated on each other. He begs Bucky to just ask Tony out already because he can’t take it anymore.)

Bucky ends up asking Tony out on accident. Y’see, Tony was excitedly talking about the movie adaption of Iron Man that’s supposed to be coming out soon, and Bucky blurted out that he wouldn’t mind taking Tony out to see it, just the two of ‘em and some popcorn.

Tony says that he’d love to, and Bucky wonders if he should thank Steve for going out to lunch those few months ago.

[the-consulting-strange-writer]

Only You

                                                  Chapter 1

20 years later.

The party around Stephen was going in full swing. Currently he was hiding in a corner, trying to avoid the crowd as much as he could. How did all these people get there? He couldn’t recognize even half of them. It was probably Clint’s fault. His soon to be husband was too friendly at times, and it was very irritating. Stephen could bet that Clint probably didn’t know who most of these people were either.

He let out a sigh and took a sip from his drink when he saw Scott moving towards him. The sight of his best friend and brother in law tugged his lips up in a real smile for the first time since the party had begun. A year and a half since Donna's death the two friends were still healing from their grief, but they were doing it together like they always had since they were children. They had seen and supported each other at the best and worst moments of their lives, and Stephen would be forever grateful for having Scott in his life.

"Who are all these people?" was the first thing that came out of Scott's mouth once he reached him.

"Don't ask me," said Stephen. "I can recognize only ten of them aside from my and Clint's parents. And you, of course."

Scott shook his head. "Honestly, this place is so crowded that I almost can't breathe," he said, trying to undo his tie in order to breathe easier.

“Do you want us to go outside to breathe some fresh air?" offered Stephen.

‘‘Yes, please,’‘ said Scott, already moving towards the balcony doors.

Once outside, Scott leaned to the balcony and took a deep breath. Stephen stepped out beside him, with one hand on Scott’s shoulder, watching his friend like a hawk. A few seconds later Scott felt the tension leaving his shoulders.

‘‘You feel better now buddy?’‘ asked Stephen, looking concerned.

‘‘Yeah, much better. Sorry for the... you know.’‘

Stephen shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything, especially to me. Here, drink some water,’’ he said, giving him the glass of water he had grabbed from a waiter on the way to the balcony.

After nearly emptying the entire glass, Scott turned to look at the crowd inside. ‘’Seriously, who are these people? And why are they all here?’’

‘‘I have a feeling that we should ask Clint about it,’‘ said Stephen, smirking at the way Scott reacted at hearing Stephen’s fiance’s name.

‘‘Ugh... Clint’‘ said Scott with many hints of distaste at his voice.

Stephen laughed. ‘’Why don’t you like my fiance? What has he ever done to you?’’

‘‘Nothing! It’s not that I don’t like him it’s just... I find him boring.’‘

‘‘He’s not boring.’‘

‘‘Oh, but he is. So boring. I honestly have no idea why you’re marrying him in ten days.’‘

‘‘Because I love him,’‘ said Stephen. Scott raised an eyebrow and looked at him with doubt, but before he had any time to answer back Clint himself had found them.

‘‘Hey babe,’‘ said Clint with a smile, and he moved to leave a kiss at the corner of Stephen’s mouth. ‘‘What are you guys doing out here?’’

‘‘There are too many people in there and we couldn’t breathe,’‘ answered Stephen. ‘‘So we came to take up some fresh air. By the way, where all these people come from?’‘

‘‘My parents. Someone in the catering made a mistake and brought too much food so my parents basically invited everyone they know, even if they’ve only met some of them only two or three times. It’s annoying, I know,’‘ he said when he saw Stephen roll his eyes, ‘‘but I can’t kill them for it now, can I?’‘

‘‘I guess not,’‘ grumbled Stephen.

‘‘Anyway, babe, my father wants to speak to you about something, that’s why I came looking for you. To take you to him.’‘

‘‘Alright, what does he want?’‘

‘‘No idea. I didn’t dare ask.’‘

‘‘Ok, so I’ll leave now,’‘ said Scott, moving towards the doors. ‘‘I’ll see you later tonight Steph.’‘ Scott sent a smile towards his best friend before he went back inside.

Clint looked at Stephen. “You know, I have a feeling that Scott doesn’t like me much,” he said.

“Your feeling is wrong,” answered Stephen. “He just doesn’t know you well. If you had bothered to get to know him you wouldn’t feel this way.”

“Maybe you’re right. Anyway, let us get you to my father and get this over with.” The pair smiled at each other and moved through the crowd. Stephen found himself pretending, however, that he didn’t think that he was holding the hand of the wrong man.

                                _______________________________

Later that night, Scott arrived at Stephen’s apartment for their weekly movie night, a habit that they had developed with Donna shortly after they learned about her diagnosis. Donna wanted to spend as much more time than possible with her two most important and favorite men in the world and of course, neither of them could ever say no to her.

Before Scott had any time to dive deep into depression once again by thinking of his beloved Donna and how soon he lost her, the door of Stephen’s apartment opened and the sight that welcomed him, made him burst into uncontrollable laughter. Stephen’s unamused and annoyed expression only made him laugh harder.

‘‘What the hell are you wearing?’‘ he asked once he was able to stop laughing just enough to let words come out of his mouth.

Stephen was dressed in a very old looking and very sky blue tuxedo. The shirt was a fashion disaster with ruffles, there was a horrible looking bow tie up in the collar and the whole outfit just looked so... not Stephen.

‘‘Clint’s father's first wedding suit. He wants me to wear it at the wedding,’‘ said Stephen as he moved inside the house, leaving the door open for Scott to enter. Scott followed soon after, closing the door behind him.

‘‘What? Okay, that makes no sense. Shouldn’t he give it to his own son to wear it at the wedding?”

‘‘Well, yes. But according to him, Clint just can’t appreciate timeless fashion like I can.’‘

‘‘This isn’t a timeless fashion,’‘ said Scott with disgust evident in his voice. ‘‘This is an abomination that must be destroyed at all costs. You know, for the sake of our universe.’‘

Stephen chuckled. “I’ll just tell him that it doesn’t fit me. It’s not like I would lie,’’ he said while looking down at the hem of the pants. They were at least five or six inches above his ankles. The two men looked at each other and started laughing until tears started getting out of their eyes. Scott was the first one to pull himself together with Stephen following his example a few seconds later, with mirth still very visible in both men’s faces.

‘‘Go and take this nightmare off of you and come back to watch the movie, you weirdo,’‘ said Scott. Stephen shook his head and moved towards his bedroom but before he could take another step the phone rang. Scott didn’t pay much attention to the conversation Stephen had with whomever was on the other side of that phone call until he heard Stephen say the words that would change both their lives.

‘‘Did you just say that your name is Bruce Banner?’‘

AO3 Ko-fi

[jewels2876]

Obviously, It Can

A/N: Part 5 already!!  I’m so thankful for the love and comments!

Bingo Square filled for @star-spangled-bingo: crying themselves to sleep

Word Count: 841

Warnings: none - but I expect a lot of @’ing after this

Bucky frowned as the elevator stopped on his floor silently. Since when did the ding of an elevator stop become such an annoyance, he wondered as he skulked down to his room. He hesitated at the door just before his. He gently pushed on the door which swung open. His frown deepened and the worry lines etched deeper on his forehead as he pictured you laying on that stage, bleeding out. He shook his head, trying to push the horrible memory aside. Instead, his mind lept to seeing you so still on the hospital bed floors below him. He groaned quietly before he glanced through your room. He loved how inviting your room was, colored in bright purples and blues. Piles of clothes were scattered on the bed. Tentatively he took a step in; the scent of you invaded his nostrils: rose and lavender mixed with a soft powdery musk.

“Hey weirdo, wrong room,” Sam teased from the doorway. “How’s she doin’?”

“Awake,” came his short answer. Bucky sighed realizing how clipped his answer was, even for Sam. “She’s a trooper. And she’s got Steve.”

“Steve?” Sam chuckled. “Big bro Steve? The guy who on the regular is saving the two of you from something or another you ran head-long into? Yeah, ok, STEVE.” Sam laughed harder at the thought.

“He does always visit her room, ya know?” came a voice from the vents just above Sam. Bucky and Sam looked up. “Really. I have footage if you wanna see it?” A phone and leather-covered arm appeared. Bucky reached up and gave the arm a good yank. Clint tumbled out, into a somersault then straightened. “You are always so rough, geez!”

Bucky huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to see your surveillance footage. But I knew there was more between them than Sam thinks.”

Sam slapped Bucky’s left arm then winced as he pulled his hand back. “Seriously Buck. I know there’s nothing going on there.”

As if on cue, you appeared at the end of the hall, supported by Steve on your left. You were teasing him about always having to be left of everyone and the laugh you two shared cut through Bucky’s heart. You had a blush to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling as Steve cracked “All hail the queen!”

Sam and Clint chuckled and mocked bowed to you as you approached your bedroom door. “Why thank you, kind peasants,” you teased. Your gaze swept over Bucky who was looking for an escape route, halfway considering climbing into the vent Clint just vacated. “Bucky! I missed you in med bay! Did you come to clean my room before I got back?”

Bucky kept his face turned from you and rolled his eyes. He turned back with a frown. “Who could keep up with that mess?” It came out rougher than he intended, as your eyes rounded and your smile dropped slowly. “I gotta go,” he mumbled, pulling out his phone from the pocket of his pants. “Tony’s texting me.” He sped back down the hallway and nearly shoved Bruce out of the way to grab the elevator.

You sniffled and felt the tears prickling your eyes. “SSteve, I can make it from here,” you whispered, trying to pull out of his grasp.

“No way!” He tightened his grip around your waist just a tad, wishing he could give you a proper hug. But Dr. Cho had cautioned against any bodily contact as your skin continued its healing process. “Come on,” he tugged you gently into the room and settled you on your bed. You gingerly laid yourself on your side, grabbed the nearest teddy bear (dressed as the Winter Soldier Bucky had insisted you were missing from your collection) and cried quietly. Steve finished moving the piles of clothes from your bed to your small couch before sitting behind you, listening to you cry yourself to sleep.

Bucky was doing the one thing he hated most: running laps in the gym. Everyone else had begged off joining him in the ring, seeing he was in one of his sour moods. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his punches on days like that. His mind was on a constant loop: your admission to him, you in the hospital bed, you bleeding out, you smiling at Steve like he hung the moon.

Steve came in just as Bucky was picking up his pace; he stood in his way and planted himself. Bucky barreled into him and both went down; the sound they made was deafening. Steve was the first to right himself, then offered a hand to Bucky. Bucky smacked it away and got up on his own, trying to huff off towards the locker room when Steve cut him off again.

“Dude! Do you wanna fight me?’ Bucky snarled. “You’ve already got my girl, what more do you want?” Shock was evident on Steve’s face but Bucky paid no attention grumbling under his breath as he stomped off.

-->

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[dekudynamight]

I'm sure you're sick of the Endgame discourse by now but: A Thought just occurred to me, given the fandom wank over whether or not Steve "abandoned" Bucky and Sam, and (Wanda), if he came back 10 sec later, but the thing is for me ( and you kinda answered this in return to another ask ), and it's like: even if Steve came back 10 secs later it was an entire lifetime for *Steve*, where he decided that his happy ending didn't include the friends he had made in the 21st century. That in the end 1/?

Steve decided, that his happy ending didn't include his childhood friend, who he was willing to put himself under the supervision of 117 countries for ( he was willing to go against his instincts and submit to 117 countries for *Bucky*, it was only when he heard Wanda had been placed house arrest that he refused) his one bond outside the Avengers (Sam) , & his pseudo daughter/ little sister in Wanda. Like how is that extremely hurtful to them. That they were not enough for Steve to continue 2/?

living in the present? That goes beyond selfish it's *cruel* (And that's not even counting the Sharon thing, which if we're going by M&M interviews he had thing with and who he should have mentioned at the therapy session for survivors of the snap, because that would have been someone appropriate to bring up in response to Gay Joe Russo's loss), Like Bucky and his treatment is just emblematic of the whole thing, because of well let's not pretend hardcore shippers are salty, but also anger 3/?

At the way his arc was concluded? HE HAD A FAMILY HERE LIKE 90% OF WHOM HAD JUST COME BACK AND A GIRLFRIEND/ FWB . Are you seriously telling he goes back to Peggy after all of that ( and yes people he was supposed to living with Sharon in IW, trust me they did a lot more than "live together". An actual relationship has come back and he ..leaves? I mean I get why they did it (EvC didn't have the rapport with Chris that Hayley did- and the cries of "she's Peggy's grandniece!!!") but JFC 4/?

They could have had the protentional there, and had Steve working with Doctors Without Borders of something, to explain why she's running around with Falcon and Bucky. I'm sorry I'm ranting but I'm just so sad, because what it says to me is that *I* wouldn't be good enough Steve. And that hurts

First of all I’ll never be sick of endgame salt/discourse 😂 and this blog is a safe space for any and all to come and vent about the massive disappointment many of us are still feeling over this movie, so feel free to come and chat any time about this (or anything else of course 😘)

I AGREE WITH EVERY POINT YOU MADE AND AM ANGERY ALL OVER AGAIN 😡 also!!! Everything you mentioned about Sharon is so spot on and also I think it just truly clicked in my head for the first time how absolutely weird the support group was re: Sharon because!! Like you said, she WAS Steve’s most recent gf/lover/whatever you wanna call her. They had their initial connection in TWS, reconnected in CW when she risked her entire career and freedom to help Steve (and I’m p sure she was in fact a fugitive between CW and IW like the rest of team cap). We know that M&M said that early drafts of IW/EG had Steve and Sharon living together and “trying to make it work” - their words, not mine. And yet, after Sharon literally frickin DIED, Steve was... staring... at her dead aunt’s pic?? Whom... had been dead from natural causes for several years... BRUH IT DONT MAKE SENSE.

Listen, people can feel however they wanna feel about the ending but in the end, let’s be real and objective for a second. The entire Cap trilogy makes it abundantly clear that Steggy was never the intended endgame (pun intended 🙄). Peg played an important role in Steve’s character development but it came to an end, they both moved on, Steve developed an interest in Sharon. The weird Steggy “happy ending”... it was never the plan, and the early IW/EG drafts are proof. So, one can not argue that it was some grand beautiful in character master plan because it wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination. It just... it isn’t good. It isn’t Steve. We all know it, whether we’re willing to admit it or not.

I think in the end it just comes down to the writers/powers that be not understanding the value of found family vs heteronormative romance. That’s kind of EG’s fatal flaw imo, it wrecks the whole thing. Nat dying so Clint can live and be with his cookie cutter family vs Nat living and being with her found family is another example. They just don’t get it, just like they don’t understand trauma and think it’s okay to call Bucky dangerous and bad and not worthy of the shield. And I suppose we shouldn’t expect rich old straight white men to understand these concepts, but boy does it get exhausting watching them destroy all the characters I love 🙃

But anyway. EG Steve ain’t the Steve I know and love and I don’t care what the Russos or M&M or Feige or Mickey Mouse himself says. Steve Rogers as a character belongs to us, the fans, not the greedy corporate weirdos cashing in on his original author’s work 😊 So let’s just toss EG Steve in the trash and remember the character as he actually is 💙

[the--sad--hatter]

My Big Fat Fake Wedding (Steve x Reader)

WARNINGS - IMPLIED, REFERENCED SMUT, STALKING. 

PAIRING - STEVE ROGERS X READER

I combined several requests to make this because my brain is sleep deprived and hopped up on energy juice and it seemed like a good idea. 

 8: “Oh no… there’s only one bed… whatever shall we do?” “You do realize we are dating right?” – With Steve

 9: “I know you like to make an entrance but that was ridiculous.” – With Steve, Bucky and Sam

 7: “Are you masturbating in there?” “It’s my electric toothbrush!” – With Bucky and/or Steve

My Big Fat Fake Wedding (1/2)

It all started with a simple, run of the mill mission. A group of bank robbers, clad in ridiculous rubber masks. It was hardly an Avengers level threat until one of the robbers shot green flames from his hands and suddenly the police decided that it was above their payroll and frankly, you didn’t blame them. So a small group of Avengers went in, rescued the hostages and took down the robbers. It went smoothly and was over in seconds.

 But it changed everything.

One lucky paparazzi managed to sneak a picture of Captain America, chastely kissing the lips of the Woman who’d punched the flaming robber in the face. Steve had been proud of you, and a little turned on. He’d slipped up, kissing you in public. Suddenly the word was out and the whole world knew about the First Avenger and his Bad-Guy punching, Avenging lady love.

 That was when the letters started.

  Everyone thinks he’s the Golden Boy, but he’s not good enough for you. Nobody is.

  You’re mine. Not anyone else’s.

  I know you play the hero but I see the darkness in you. It matches the darkness in me.

  Will he ever know you the way I know you?

  Will he accept you the way I do?

  They somehow made it into your fanmail and even Tony and Natasha were drawing a blank when trying to trace the sender. Whoever he was, he wasn’t ready to step out of the shadows, choosing instead to remain unseen but not unheard.

 “I can’t believe I have a stalker!” You said.

 “You’re not really famous until you have a stalker.” Clint agreed.

 “I know! It’s so cool!” You crowed.

 Steve stopped his pacing to shoot you a look of disbelief.

 “I mean creepy. It’s so creepy.” You amended quickly.

 “Please take this seriously. Please.” Steve begged and you made a zipping motion across your lips.

 “Cap relax, she’s not the first Avenger to have a stalker and I doubt she’ll be the last. Even if this weirdo crawls out of his basement to try and get to her, he has to get past all of us and you to do so. Even then, if he pulls all that off, he has to face her.” Natasha pointed out calmly.

 “She’s right, he’s just some creep with a crush. Chances are he’ll never act on this and if he does, he won’t get near her.” Sam agreed.

 “Why am I the only one worried about this?” Steve snapped.

 “You aren’t.” Bucky said, crossing his arms and glaring at you.

 “Down boy.” You said, smirking at the brunette super soldier and while his face remained impassive you saw the amusement in his eyes.

 “How about this. We’ll up security on her for a while, she can wear a tracker, take one of us with her when she leaves and we’ll have all her fanmail sorted through before it gets here.” Tony offered.

 “Do I get a say in this?” You asked, raising your hand.

 “No.” Steve said straight away and when everyone winced and backed away from you he realised his mistake.

 “Uh, I have an urgent… thing. Away from here.” Clint said and bolted, mostly everyone following him until it was only you, Bucky and Steve left.

 “Sorry pal, you’re on your own here.” Bucky said apologetically, slipping out of the room.

 Steve shot him a look of betrayal  before he looked at you warily.

 “So you wanna tag me, keep me under lock and key?” You snarled.

 “That’s not what I meant.” Steve said.

 “Really? Because that’s what it sounded like Captain. You think I’m so helpless and fragile that I’m in terrible danger from a fanboy.”

 “No.”

 “I’ve been looking after myself a long time, I can handle Hydra, Aliens, Inhumans, and Super Soldiers if I need to. I’m not now nor have I ever been helpless and you don’t get to ride in on your white horse and play Prince Charming to my damsel in distress!” You raged.

 “IT’S MY FAULT!” He shouted, breaking through your anger.

 “What?”

 “I kissed you. You were so fierce, so irresistible in that moment and I slipped up, I kissed you. I outed us and now there’s someone sending you these horrible letter because of what I did. I know you can take care of yourself, it’s why I lo… admire you so much but if something did happen, if he so much as left a tiny bruise on you then I would never forgive myself.” Steve said.

 His eyes were bright and shining, pleading with you to understand. He had all but fallen to his knees in desperation for you to hear what he was saying and you did, you heard it. You uncrossed your arms and flung yourself at him, his arms catching you automatically and his head lowering so his lips met yours. You melted into the kiss, into the feel of his warmth.

 As much as the apple pie comparison was a cliché when it came to Steve, it was accurate. He was comforting, familiar and delicious with just a touch of spice and heat. Enclosed in his arms, pressed against his chest and his lips moving in perfect tandem with yours always gave you that deeply content feeling in your soul and lit a fire in your blood.

 “Do whatever you have to do to keep me safe Steve.” You whispered against his lips.

 His fingers threaded through your hair, cradling the back of your head while his other hand pressed into the small of you back and he kissed you again, pouring all the unspoken love between you into it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 The letters kept coming. At first they were every couple of weeks, the weekly, then every few days until there was a new letter every day. They always carried the same message, that Steve Rogers was unworthy and you didn’t belong with him. They grew more detailed, more frenzied and dangerous in tone until the day they went too far and it wasn’t Steve that snapped, it was you.

 “I don’t care how difficult he is to find, I want everyone on this. I want this sociopath found.” You demanded, slamming the latest letter down on the table.

 Bucky stood behind you on your right side, like a dark shadow. He was the first person you had gone to when the letter arrived and his anger, while quieter and more sinister than yours, was just as potent.

 Your stalker had crossed a line, and a big one. He was no longer satisfied with just insulting Steve, leaving thinly veiled threats. He had written a manifesto, a detailed plan on the grisly ways he wanted to kill Captain America while you watched, as a punishment for your ‘bad judgment’. It was so sickening, so horrific that while Bucky had been reading it, you had been in the bathroom, throwing up.

 “We’ve tried everything, looed into every avenue and lead. Whoever he is, he’s really good at hiding. There’s nothing we can do to track him down.” Natasha said apologetically.

 “Then lets stop looking for him and bring him to us.” Tony suggested.

 “Yes!” You said snapping your fingers and pointing at Tony.

 “You and Cap have been dating for a while now, don’t you think it’s time you two kids tied the knot?” Tony suggested, smirking at you.

 “No!” You said, your eyes going comically wide.

 “Wait, no. That could work. We plan a public wedding, make a big deal out of it. It might just push this guy over the edge and bring him into the open.” Bucky said from behind you.

 You glanced at Steve who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meeting and was now refusing to meet your eye.

 “Do it.” He decided, standing up.

 “What?” You yelped.

 “You told me to do whatever I had to do, so I’m doing it.” Steve said, still refusing to look at you.

 “Steve…”

 “It’s a fake wedding, we just need to put on a show to lure him out. Stark will take care of it, put on a big affair. He won’t be able to stand by and let it happen and then we’ll have him.” Natasha reasoned with you.

 “You really want to do this?” You asked Steve.

 He clenched his jaw tightly and nodded once.

 “Fine. Fine, I guess we’re getting married.” You snapped, storming out of the room.

 “Wait up.” Bucky called after you when you were halfway down the corridor.

 You looked over your shoulder and saw that he was alone. You scoffed loudly and carried on walking.

 “I know you’re not happy about this but neither is he. Steve doesn’t want a big fake wedding. It’s got to be killing him to do this but he’s doing it anyway, not because he was threatened but because you were.” Bucky snapped and you slowed down and turned back to face him.

 “He hasn’t even told me if he loves me, I don’t know if he does. And now I’ve got to marry him? To trap the physco who is threatening him? I’m allowed to be upset about it Buck and it shouldn’t be you chasing after me, it should be Steve.” You said, leaning against the wall and sighing heavily.

 “Want my advice?”

 “No.”

 “Don’t wait for him to say it. Wait for him to show it because Steve Rogers has always been better with actions than words.” Bucky suggested.

 “I know but…”

 “But?” Bucky asked.

 “He’s Steve. How can I believe he loves me when I’m so clearly not worthy?” You asked honestly.

 “You’re not Thor and he’s not Mjolnir. It’s not a case of being worthy and even if it was, you’re far too good for that punk.” Bucky said, smiling at you.

 “AW Buck, that was clever and sweet. Two characteristics nobody expects from you. You wanna sit down? Need a nap? Your brain must be hurting.” You quipped.

 “See if I’m ever nice to you again, sassy little shit.” He grumbled, stomping away.

 “Hey, old man?” You called after him.

 “What?” He snapped.

 “Wanna give me away?”

 He stopped dead and looked back at you, shocked. There was a flicker of joy in his eyes before he masked it with a scowl.

 “Fine, but I don’t do returns.” He said harshly, thought there was a flicker of a smirk on his face.

 ~~~~~~

 Over the next three weeks, Tony and Pepper went all out and put together the most over the top wedding that had ever been planned. Notices and invitations were sent, announcements were put in the newspaper, Pepper cornered you and dragged you to a dress fitting.

 “It’s a fake wedding!” You insisted.

 “But it has to look real. So you need a dress.” She told you.

 “As long as I can move in it and it has pockets, I’m good.”

 “You want a wedding dress with pockets?” Tony asked in confusion.

 “Yes…”

 “Why?”

 “For knives, chewing gum, my phone.”  You listed.

 “Fair enough.” He said with a shrug.

 Throughout the whole three weeks, Steve used any excuse he could to avoid you. Somehow, you were never in the same room as him alone. He was perfectly polite and caring when he saw you, kissing you on the cheek and smiling at you adoringly. Yet as soon as it was just the two of you, he would suddenly have something urgent to take care of. It was breaking your heart and you were sure he was pulling away.

 If it wasn’t for the flowers, the chocolate’s, the muffin basket and the little texts you would have been convinced you were over.

 Finally it was the night before the big ‘fake’ day. The whole team was whisked away the large estate in The Hamptons where the sting operation was going down.

 And Steve could avoid you anymore.

 “The Master bedroom, for the happy couple!” Tony announced, all but shoving you both through the door and slamming it closed behind you.

 You and Steve looked at each other awkwardly before you broke first and looked away first, checking out the bedroom.

 “Oh no… there’s only one bed… whatever shall we do?” You said dramatically and jumped onto the bed, striking a ridiculous pose.

 “You do realize we are dating right?” Steve asked you, looking befuddled before nervous.

 “Do you not want to share a bed with me? I can sleep on the floor.” He offered quickly, turning red.

 “Are we dating Steve? Because I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You said bitterly, fluffing a pillow up and settling back on it.

 He tentatively came and sat on the edge of the bed next to you, his back to you.

 “When I was young, I believed I would meet a girl and marry her. Then I always got sick and I thought no girl was gonna marry a guy who probably wouldn’t even survive the first year of marriage. When I met Peggy, I thought about it again but then I went into the ice and when I came out the world was different, I was different. So I put those notions behind me again. Then there was you and all those thoughts, they started popping up again and I didn’t know how to deal with them. I’m actually finally getting married, to the girl of my dreams. But it’s a sham.” He said softly.

 “Just because the wedding is fake, it doesn’t mean we are.” You told him, blinking back tears.

 “Is it something you want? I know not everyone does these days.” He asked, his shoulder tensed.

 You sat forwards and leaned on into his arm, pressing your lips to his bicep and lacing your fingers with his.

 “I want you Steve. We’ve barely begun and I don’t know where we’re going yet, but I do want you.” You said.

 He turned his head to look at you.

 “Do you mean that?” he asked.

 “Wholeheartedly.”

 For the first time in weeks he kissed you again and you felt complete. You felt at home. When he undressed you and kissed every part of you, you fell deeper into a state of bliss and when he took you into his arms and made love to you, your soul soared.

 ~~~~~~

 Even fake weddings were stressful and your wedding dress seemed to be glaring angrily at you from where it was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. You dabbed the concealer that you had begged off of Wanda onto the faint lovebites on your throat and sighed, gripping the edge of the sink tightly, trying to calm down. You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack and all the noise and people had been getting under your skin so you had kicked everyone out, choosing to get ready alone.

 You pinned your hair up in a sort of messy but looks messy on purpose, tousled kind of look. Your make up was done, hickeies were covered, hair was styled… all that was left was the dress. You fidgeted and meandered, checking your reflection in the mirror again, looking for something to fix. You convinced yourself there was a stain on your teeth and pulled your toothbrush and toothpaste out of your toiletries bag. Just as you were starting to wonder if you even had any enamel left on your pearly whites, you heard the bedroom door open and let out a frustrated moan at the thought of interaction.

 “Are you masturbating in there?” Bucky asked bluntly through the door.

 “It’s my electric toothbrush!” You called, switching it off.

 He pushed the door open and glared at your fluffy bathrobe while you glared at his whole person.

 “Shouldn’t you be wearing something a little more bridal and less slumber party?” He asked.

 “Go to many slumber parties do you?” You asked, immediately giggling at the mental image of Bucky having his hair braided and watching Clueless while eating Ben and Jerry’s, face mask on and pink nail polish included.

 He rolled his eyes at you and plucked the dress off of the back of the door, tossing it at you.

 “Get dressed.” He instructed.

 “Make me.” You said childishly.

 He raised an eyebrow at you and took a menacing step towards you.

 “Ok, Ok, I’ll do it!” You yelped.

 “Good girl.” He said, patting you on the head and leaving the bathroom while you scowled after him.

 You pulled your robe off, muttering insults under your breath while you stepped into the dress. You yanked the door open and Bucky immediately snorted.

 “What?” You asked in a panic.

 “Steve’s going to have an asthma attack when he see’s you.” Bucky sniggered.

 “He doesn’t have asthma anymore…”

 “You’re about to bring it back.” Bucky said.

 “You know what, I’m taking that as a compliment.” You decided, turning around and gesturing to the zipper on the back of the dress.

 Bucky got the hint and stepped forwards to zip you up.

 “Really though, how do I look?” You asked seriously.

 He turned you around and put his hands on your shoulders to make sure you were looking at him when he answered.

 “Worthy.”

 ~~~~~~

 “I’m going to kill Stark!” You announced.

 You were waiting outside the hall where the ceremony was about to be held. Steve, your guests, The Avengers, they were all waiting just beyond the doors for the ‘wedding’. It was really happening, and then you had happened to glance up to the ceiling.

 “You might want to save it until you’ve killed Thor.” Bucky warned, watching the side door intently with his head cocked to the side as he listened to something that you couldn’t hear.

 You traced the elaborate set up along the ceiling with your eyes until you found the release mechanism. You glared at one of the staff.

 “You there, stand next to that rope and no matter what, do not, under any circumstances, let anyone pull it!” You ordered.

 You were so stressed and adamant that the poor girl immediately scurried over to it and stood in front of it trembling. At the same moment, Bucky suddenly released your arm and dived to the left.

 That was when all hell broke loose.

 A goat, an actual goat came bounding around the corner, bleating loudly. The girl guarding the rope jumped in fright and suddenly everything happened in slow motion.

 The doors swung open as the first notes of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ Were played by the string quartet Tony had hired, the girl lost her balance and instinctively grabbed the rope to break her fall and yanked it down. One thousand red, white and blue balloons fell down from the ceiling, showering you and floating through the open doors. The terrified goat wriggled out of Bucky’s arms and bounded away, skipping past you and straight down the aisle.

 You stood there, in shock as the whole ceremony stared at you.

 Clint was the first one to laugh, followed by Tony.

 “I know you like to make an entrance but that was ridiculous.” Sam shouted at you, from his spot next to a very awestruck Steve.

A/N This was getting stupidly long so I had to split it into two parts!

[parabelled]

3, 7, 9, 15, 18

booknet ask game (Apologies for the delay!):

3. what was the last book you rated 1/5? 

Probably this horrific and justifiably priced 0.25 cent paperback I got from the library book sale. I care so little about the title I’m not even going to bother getting up to look at it, but basically it was somehow involving a mystery on a liner heading to New York, and The Kennedys circa 1941 when Joe (’God what a terrible person’) Kennedy was ambassador to England (And casual Nazi supporter/isolationist, lovely).

But the book promises you that it will mostly talk about Rosemary Kennedy as a character. Which I liked, because in case you don’t know, Rosemary Kennedy was JFK’s sister who was considered the ‘prettiest’ of all the Kennedy girls, but also constantly was on a diet because she ‘put on weight easily’ (Poor girl), and because she was seen as ‘simple.’ Supposedly when she was in her early twenties, she had the mental capacities or a naive thirteen year old/ writing level of an eight year old. They kept basically shoving her into boarding schools to try to push her forward in terms of education, but obviously when she most likely had something like a severe case of autism, there weren’t exactly many programs that directly addressed those who were learning disabled, and being a Kennedy, they most likely were like PUSH HER THROUGH IT AND SHE’LL BE FINE (Great, thanks guys).

All this being said, there is proof in terms of letters that basically everyone was afraid, because once she became a teenager, she started running away from these schools or sneaking out late at night, and they were literally worried because of how ‘naive’ she was, that she’d end up getting pregnant by some weirdo guy forcing himself on her/ convincing her to have sex. What most normal people/historians think now, is that she saw her brother being John F. Kennedy, El Primo Playboy of the World 1941, dating movie stars and having a buttload of friends (As my older brother used to say), and she obviously wanted to be involved in this glamorous, fun life with the rest of her family, rather than shoved away at some crappy boarding school with nuns the age of time immemorial (Understandable). (Also, for what it’s worth, JFK basically WAS a great older brother, for what I’ve heard, and wanted his parents to loosen up on her. He involved her in his social groups if she was around and never pushed her into anything that someone with her ‘limitations’ might be hurt by).

So of course the natural thing would be to do is to give her a lobotomy so she doesn’t run away, and of course, it had some horrific side effects and basically killed her personality entirely from all accounts, making her basically a human vegetable with only a shadow of the person she’d been before. After that Joe ‘I’m the Worst’ Kennedy carted his daughter off, and debatably, depending on who you ask, she was basically ignored by most of the family for 60+ years of her living in a care home, or embraced in private (The Kennedy message/propaganda/nice try guys). There’s really only consistent public photos of Ted Kennedy visiting her, because besides the whole ‘I accidentally murdered a woman I was having an affair with’ thing, Ted was the baby and seemed actually like ironically the most ‘Christian’ in the most broadest sense of the word besides Bobby Kennedy (Yes, I know they’re Catholic, it’s an analogy).

So bringing this back to this awful book, the ‘mystery’ on the cruise liner shit basically seemingly revolves around Rosemary pre-lobotomy and how she wants to get married to a ‘coloured jazz man.’ BUT THIS NEVER FACTORS INTO THE PLOT. NONE OF THE HISTORICAL FIGURES ABOARD DO EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE ‘POV’ CHAPTERS ASIDE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.

You heard me right. xD I KNOW IT’S THE 1940S IN THE BOOKS AND THERE’S FAR WORSE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN DONE AND THE JAZZ MAN IS NICE AND ALL BUT DAMN IT’S SORT OF THE WORST, BECAUSE THEY BASICALLY MAKE THIS THE ENTIRE REASON FOR HER LOBOTOMY AND WHILE THEORETICALLY IT WOULD FIT IN WITH JOE’S MOTIVATIONS HISTORICALLY, IT JUST CAME OFF AS SUPER SKEEZY AND UGH. Mostly the book A) Actually did a considerable job giving Rosemary a sweet and loving personality that you like, but considering what you know if you’re probably reading this book and how they’re just dropping bread crumbs the entire way through, it’s just incredibly morbid and bleh. 

If you’re going to write historical characters and fiction well, at least have something more to back it up than ‘Racism was more (outwardly) prevalent back then so she was going to be in an interracial relationship so lobotomy.” It just came off as conflating two important issues (The rights of the learning disabled to date and have families of their own, and interracial romances versus status in society), and just came out to justify it for a lobotomy we never even see. (Trust me, I’m making it sound far more interesting than it is).

Plus the mystery on the liner is the main aspect of the story, and I think that’s what makes it the worst: This author just chose to have these random historical figures on BECAUSE, and considering Rosemary’s background and what we know happened to her, it just seemed like a pretty desperate ploy to reel people in (like myself), and have them go, “Wait, this is just a sub-par mystery book, not a historical mystery book: She used that whole actual living person who existed and who was screwed over by her own family as ‘shock value’ and a ‘hook’ for the audience.” Double EW.

7. what was the last book that made you cry? 

Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese, who is unfortunately no longer with us but a BEACON of Canadian Literature, and I'm SO sad he didn’t get to write more books, because his writing style is BEAUTIFUL and poetic.

“Saul Indian Horse is an alcoholic Ojibway man who finds himself the reluctant resident of an alcohol treatment centre after his latest binge. To come to peace with himself, he must tell his story. Richard Wagamese takes readers on the often difficult journey through Saul's life, from his painful forced separation from his family and land when he's sent to a residential school to the brief salvation he finds in playing hockey. The novel is an unflinching portrayal of the harsh reality of life in 1960s Canada, where racism reigns and Saul's spirit is destroyed by the alienating effects of cultural displacement.”

What you also don’t get about the book from this review, is the role hockey plays as being central to the narrative. In that moment, and when Saul is young, inside his own head, he is just what we as the reader see him as: A young boy who loves a sport and finds it freeing. A PERSON. A kid who loves hockey. 

He’s so good that he has a chance to make it to the NHL. He’s good enough to play on the ‘white teams,’ but when he starts beating white players, grown men and women throw things at him, like plastic ‘Indians’ from a ‘Cowboy and Indian’ set. 

He is a skilled player. He has raw talent. But to make it to the next level, and because they won’t let him be on the team in any other role, because a Native man can’t become a skilled star in 1960s Canada, he has to become a ‘goon.’ There’s actually a moment in the book where he snaps, and it’s so well written and heartbreaking, where it’s like this Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde dynamic inside of him, where he literally just goes, “Okay? You want me to be a bloodthirsty ‘Indian’? Then I’ll be that for you.”

There’s also a movie I haven’t had the guts to watch all the way through, because I tried watching it on a plane ride from Australia to Canada without actually having read the book first, and having no idea what the movie was about aside from hockey and Indigenous culture, and Jesus Christ IT KILLED ME. I’m terrible at flying, had been throwing up and thoroughly miserable for about three hours at that point on the plane, tried to turn on a movie to distract myself, and within ten minutes, I was like “No, I think sticking to the vomiting is justified.” (To give you an idea of the directing style, it’s bizarrely produced by uber-Republican yet ‘weirdly-obsessed with Indigenous people’ movie star Clint Eastwood. If you’ve seen his other films and how sparse and depressing they can be, you can only IMAGINE what this material lends itself to. So I’d really stick to reading the book first. Because Wagamese’s voice is so much stronger within the book, and the pain and horror poor Saul is exposed to serves a purpose within the larger narrative much more clearly, and even when he is an alcoholic, he still is able to find hope within himself and returning to his people, and that’s a beautiful thing that I think was lost in the portions of the film I was able to catch.) Check it out: It was only written in 2012, but it’s already being heralded as a ‘classic’ in Canadian Indigenous Literature.

9. do you actually check out books that have been recommended for you?

I do. I might not actually READ them, but I’ll at least check out a snippet on Amazon to see if it’s my cup of tea. So if anyone has any recommendations, go right on ahead <3

15. how do you feel about reading buddies?  

I would love a reading buddy! <3 Feel free to message me if you’re keen. <3

18. what was your favourite book when you were 10?

Probably something by Roald Dahl or The Hobbit, if we’re talking sheer escapism or enjoyment (Or the original run of Harry Potter). My Dad is an English teacher, so I was always reading older books than were probably age-appropriate (I was placed at a college-reading level at twelve on an assessment test), so other than that, a lot of classic literature: Just name it, I’ve probably read it. 

I also was a nerd who decided to read the entire dictionary back to front somewhere around this time and copy down all the words I actually didn’t know on a list, so that was a hobby. xD I guess I could count that as a ‘favourite book.’ (-Insert Homer Simpson “NEEeeeRRRddddd” gif here-).