#super hell (2004)
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haveyouseenthishorrormovie · 9 months ago
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SUMMARY: A number of supernatural creatures and space aliens create a disruptive atmosphere. Some humans and their living-dead companions are confused by it all.
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therealbeachfox · 1 year ago
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
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We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
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Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
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We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
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fleursfairies · 6 months ago
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i think its really funny when people say that it's unrealistic for will AND mike AND robin AND vickie to all be gay in the 80s cuz clearly they have never even looked back to the past. people in the 1900s were gay as hell! and heres some examples
james dean (1931-1955) bisexual !
marlon brando (1924-2004) bisexual !
rock hudson (1925-1985) very gay
leslie gore (1946-2015) lesbian
dusty springfield (1939-1999) lesbian
norma tanega (1939-2019) lesbian
(dusty springfield and norma tanega dated)
elton john (1947-present) gay
freddie mercury (1946-1991) gay
george michael (1963-2016) gay
david bowie (1947-2016) bi
crazy that david and elton were born the same year and george and david passed the same year
john lennon (1940-1980) bi im pretty sure unless yoko was lying for some reason
joan jett (1958-present) bi but google ai wants to argue with me about it
janis joplin (1943-1970) bi
whitney houston (1963-2012) bi?? maybe
debbie harry (blondie) (1945-present) bi (or ex bi LMAO)
billie holiday (1915-1959) bi
im lovin all the bi people
andy fraser (free) (1952-2015) gay
i do NOT like boy george at all but unfortunately hes an iconic gay artist and i have to add him (1961-present) gay 🙄
ray and dave davies from the kinks (1944+1947-present) ima just say that theyre both bisexual cuz its a bit confusing
art garfunkel (1941-present) bi. i just found this out like last year but ive always known in my soul. simon and garfunkel are like frog and toad or bert and ernie. you just know.
4/5 members of the b-52's are queer
little richard (1932-2020) gay
mick jagger (1943-present) bi? probably? idk but please go watch the mick jagger david bowie dancing in the street music video its the gayest thing ive ever seen
pete townshend (the who) (1945-present) pansexual
chuck panozzo (styx) (1948-present) gay
lou reed (velvet underground) (1942-2013) prooobably bi but google is giving me super confusing answers that are different since the last time i checked
morrissey 🙄 (this smiths) (1959-present) im diagnosing him as pan cuz all google says is "humansexual"
pete burns (dead or alive) (1959-2016) queer
jane wiedlin (the gogos) (1959-present) bi
june millington and alice de buhr of the band fanny are gay and nickey barclay is bi. (alice is one of my biggest drummer inspirations and i totally forgot she was gay)
neil tennant (pet shop boys) gay
marianne faithfull, katharine hepburn, marlene dietrich, greta garbo, billy haines, ian mckellen, divine, rupaul, andy warhol, frankie goes to hollywood, soft cell probably, tab hunter, stephen fry, anthony perkins, cristopher walken, sal mineo, sister rosetta tharpe, billie joe armstrong, drew barrymore, jodie foster, fiona shaw, angelina jolie, etc
update: joan baez, peter tork, marc bolan, brian epstein, stuart sutcliffe, candy darling, sandy west
i have more but im tired
but these are just some people that are confirmed queer. i could go ooon and ooon and ooon about "not gay" people doing gay ass things
if you're going to make silly statements about the past please actually do a bit of research
not to mention the lesbians and the same sex kiss in the 1927 movie wings
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thirtysomethingloser92 · 2 months ago
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Chapter 3: Will You Still Love Me When You Can't See Me Anymore?
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Summary: Falling in love with your best friend wasn’t supposed to happen—but with Adrian Chase, it was inevitable. Maybe it started back in high school, when he smiled at you across the science lab. Or maybe it crept in later, during those long, adrenaline-soaked nights working (sort of, not really) for ARGUS, where the line between best friends and something more blurred every time he looked at you like you were the only steady thing in his world.
Loving him was easy. Living with the fact that he might never love you back? That was the hard part.
Because whether he couldn’t feel it—or just wouldn’t let himself—you were stuck in a limbo of almosts. Lingering touches, late-night confessions, unspoken things that hung heavy in the air.
And eventually, something was going to give. Warnings: Slow-Burn, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut.
Masterlist familyfriendlyhoho inu1gf
You realize now—sitting here, blood trickling down your neck and regret throbbing right alongside the pain—that hindsight is a cruel, brilliant thing. Every decision, every reckless leap that brought you to this exact moment, feels like a string of catastrophes you signed off on in your own handwriting. Maybe you hate yourself for it. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe self-loathing is just easier to focus on than the way Adrian’s touch lingers, gentle and careful, as he presses gauze to the back of your neck.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice so soft you barely catch it over the sound of your own heartbeat, which is absolutely not hammering just because he’s this close. You wince as he applies pressure, and his hand flinches, guilt flashing across his face like he’s the one bleeding.
Someone—just some idiot with a knife and more luck than sense—managed to get a good cut in before his luck finally. There was a gunshot, then nothing but the ringing in your ears and the hot sting of your own blood; and Adrian in front of you, making sure you weren’t hurt too badly.
But honestly? That’s not the painful part.
The painful part is Adrian himself. The way he’s crouched behind you, so close you can feel his breath skimming your ear. The way your pulse jumps every time his fingers brush your skin, and how you’re hyper-aware of every inch of exposed flesh. You’ve been shirtless in front of him before—hell, you’ve been half-naked, careless and quick to laugh during patch-ups after missions. But that was before you realized you were in love with him. Before every touch from him started to feel like a secret.
So here you are, perched awkwardly on the edge of an old bathtub in a bra you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy (one of these days you’ll buy new ones, you swear, ones that don’t look like lost relics from a 2004 Sears catalog). You’re facing the cracked, off-white tiles, trying to pretend you don’t notice the goosebumps every time Adrian exhales near your ear. Pretending you’re not seconds away from unraveling.
Fuck your life.
You just need him to finish stitching you up. Because there’s no way in hell you’re explaining this to an urgent care nurse at three in the morning. (“Oh, this? Just a little knife fight with a criminal. Standard Tuesday.”) Adrian’s the only one you trust with this—trust not to ask questions you can’t answer, trust not to flinch at the mess you’ve made of your body, of your feelings.
“Bright side is you’re gonna have a super cool scar,” Adrian says suddenly, voice light, as if he’s trying to make you laugh. He peels the gauze away for a second, eyes flicking to yours with a hesitant smile before pressing it back down.
You snort—half amusement, half pain. “Yeah, just what I’ve always wanted,” you mutter, biting back another wince. “Just stitch it, okay? I’ll clean up when I get home.”
“You sure?” His voice is closer now, concern threading through it. You can feel him hesitate, like he’s waiting for permission to touch you again, to take care of you.
You turn your head to answer—and immediately regret it. He’s right there, close enough that if you moved even an inch, your lips would brush his. His hand is still warm at your neck. He’s looking at you like he has no idea what he does to you, like he doesn’t know he’s become the center of every reckless thought you have.
You snap your gaze away, fixing it on the faded grout between the tiles. Something neutral. Something safe. “Absolutely,” you say, voice steady—too steady—pretending this is just another night, another wound, not the most dangerous secret you’ve ever tried to keep.
The first pinch is always the worst. That sharp, tearing pain as the needle bites through your skin, its passage audible—a faint, sickening thread of sound you can’t unhear. You grit your teeth, focusing on the sterile smell of antiseptic, the chill of porcelain beneath your bare thighs, anything except the boy kneeling behind you. Anything except Adrian.
Don’t think about how gentle he is, how careful. Don’t think about the way he keeps brushing your hair away from the back of your neck, fingertips featherlight, the touch lingering a fraction longer each time. Don’t think about how his knuckles graze your skin as he works, or the way his breath ghosts along your shoulder, warm and unbearably close. Don’t think about how your skin prickles in response, how every nerve feels exposed and aching.
Don’t think about the way his lips would feel if he kissed the back of your neck right now—the heat of his breath replaced by the softness of his mouth, gentle and deliberate. You can almost imagine it: his lips pressing against the tender skin just below your hairline, slow and reverent, as if he’s memorizing you.
Don’t think about the way his fingers would trail down the line of your spine, mapping every vertebrae as his lips follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Don’t think about the way he’d press his palms to your waist, holding you close, grounding you as his mouth explores the slope of your neck, the curve of your jaw, the corner of your mouth—so close, almost there.
Don’t think about the way his hands would splay across your stomach, fingertips pressing into your skin, anchoring you. How he’d shift closer, chest pressing against your back, his breath hot against your ear. Don’t think about how his hands would slide lower, tracing the line of your ribs, the dip of your hips, until his thumb hooks into the waistband of your pants, slow and teasing.
Don’t think about the way his fingers would slip inside, exploring, claiming, while his other hand was unbuttoning the top button with practiced ease. Don’t think about the way your body would arch into him, how your breath would hitch, your heart thundering so loud you’re sure he could hear it. Don’t think about the way his mouth would finally find yours, hungry and desperate, years of longing poured into a single, shattering kiss.
Don’t think about any of it.
But you do. It’s all you can think about, every forbidden fantasy playing out vividly behind your closed eyes. Your body aches with the need to move, to turn and close the distance, to finally let yourself have what you want.
“I think I’m done,” Adrian’s voice snaps you back, low and hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment. You blink a few times, vision swimming, the world coming back into focus in slow, stuttering frames.
You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, wild and insistent, the heat pooling low in your stomach refusing to dissipate. You stay still for a moment, too afraid your body will betray you if you move. You swallow hard, tasting copper and adrenaline, forcing yourself to breathe, to steady your trembling hands where they clutch the edge of the tub.
You want to say something—anything—but your voice catches in your throat. You risk a glance over your shoulder, catching Adrian’s eyes. He looks concerned, his brow furrowed, lips parted like he’s about to apologize again. He’s still so close, the air between you charged and electric.
“Thanks,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the fragile boundary between you. You don’t trust yourself to say more. Not when every nerve in your body is screaming for him, every thought a tangled mess of want and fear. You look away again, fixing your gaze on the tiles, counting the cracks and stains. You try to will your pulse to slow, to force your mind blank, to forget the phantom press of Adrian’s hands on your skin, the way his breath had ghosted over the tender spot beneath your ear, the deep ache in your chest that has nothing to do with the stitches he’s just put in you.
But you know you won’t forget. You know you can’t.
He moves around behind you, the sound of him gathering up bloody gauze and crumpling wrappers oddly loud in the cramped bathroom. He starts talking, his voice bright and casual—too casual—filling the air with easy, familiar noise. He’s saying something about that lucky shot, about how you should have listened when he told you to reinforce your suit with the same kevlar mesh he used. He’s teasing, trying to lighten things, but you can’t hear him over the rush of blood in your ears. You can’t make your mouth work, can’t even muster a laugh.
Instead, you reach for your shirt, trying not to notice how your hands tremble as you pull it on. The fabric is rough against your skin and smells faintly of smoke and sweat and the night’s violence. You focus on that, on the small, mundane act of getting dressed, as if it might push out the images still flickering through your mind.
You stand, bracing yourself against the edge of the tub, trying to collect what’s left of your composure. The room feels too small, the air too heavy.
“Hey, are you crashing?” Adrian asks behind you, his voice hopeful, almost boyish. You can feel his eyes on you, warm and open. That look of his—like he’s half-waiting for you to say yes, for you to let yourself fall apart in the safety of his space.
You want to say yes. You want to scream it. You want to let him sit you on the bathroom counter, crowd into your space, press his mouth to yours and let all of this tension break loose. You want to lose yourself in him—his hands, his mouth, his laugh—until you forget everything but the way he makes you feel.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
It’s never been this bad before. Sure, you’ve dreamed about him—hot, desperate dreams that left you tangled in your sheets and gasping awake, heart pounding, thighs clenched. But those were dreams, private and safe, never something you had to face in the harsh fluorescent light of his bathroom, with him standing just a few feet away, real and impossibly close.
Now, with him here, all the longing and want feels raw, exposed. Like he might see straight through you if you let your guard down for even a second.
You realize you haven’t answered, and he’s still watching you, brow furrowed in confusion. “Probably not tonight,” you manage, voice strained. You swallow, forcing the words past the lump in your throat.
“Oh.” His face falls, just a little. He tries to hide it—tries to play it off with a shrug—but you see it.
“Yeah, I have some stuff to do,” you say, the lie clumsy and obvious. You wish you could think of something better, but your brain is mush, your body still thrumming with adrenaline and want.
“Stuff?” Adrian echoes, tilting his head, concern etched into the lines of his face.
You nod, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah, you know, stuff.” Laundry? Meal prep? Early morning run? You almost laugh at yourself. The only thing you’ve ever run is your mouth, and he knows it.
He doesn’t press, but you can tell he wants to. He’s searching your face for something, trying to figure out what’s wrong, if he’s done something to upset you. The worst part is, he hasn’t. He’s just existing, just being Adrian, and that’s enough to undo you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step closer. He’s so open, so earnest, and it makes you want to scream. You want to step back, to put space between you, but you’re frozen.
You wouldn’t even call it hanging on by a thread. A thread’s too thick. You’re hanging on by a single strand of hair, and it’s fraying fast. You’re one look, one gentle touch away from falling apart right here in front of him.
“Yep,” you say, sidestepping him with as much dignity as you can manage. “Just gonna grab something to drink. Hey, do you have any of that blue stuff left?” You move down his hallway, not daring to look back, not trusting yourself to stay steady if you do.
You can feel his gaze lingering on you, heavy with worry, with questions he doesn’t know how to ask. He’s trying to figure out if he did something wrong, trying to figure out if you’re okay, and you hate yourself a little for making him doubt.
You keep moving, clinging to the illusion of control, desperate for something cold to press against your lips, something to ground you. Anything to distract from the way you’re still burning, still aching, still wanting him with every fractured, frantic beat of your heart.
You make your way down the narrow hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last, every muscle in your body taut with tension. The soft hum of the refrigerator sounds impossibly loud in the hush of Adrian’s apartment. You try to focus on that, on the click of the handle and the cool rush of air as you open the door, anything but the chaos simmering inside your head.
You grip the bottle of neon blue sports drink, knuckles whitening, and twist the cap off with a force that feels almost desperate. Your hands are shaking—just a little, just enough for you to notice—and you pray to whatever’s listening that Adrian won’t. You tip the bottle to your lips, letting the cold, artificial sweetness flood your mouth. It’s too sweet, too sharp, but it grounds you. You focus on the sensation, on the way the chilled liquid slides down your throat, on the burn of embarrassment that creeps up your neck.
Don’t think about him in the other room, still tidying up. Don’t think about the way he looked at you, concern softening his features, or the hope flickering in his eyes when he asked if you were staying. Don’t think about the way your body had screamed to say yes, to let him in, to just let go.
You close your eyes for a second and take a shaky breath, pressing the bottle’s lip hard to your mouth. You try to rehearse all the excuses you could give for bolting, for acting so strange. Laundry. Meal prep. Just tired. You run through them like mantras, hoping one will stick, hoping it’ll be enough to keep you from unraveling.
But the images keep coming, unbidden and vivid—Adrian’s hands on you, his mouth on your neck, the way it would feel to finally let yourself have what you want. You squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter, forcing the thoughts down, locking them away behind a wall of willpower so thin it might as well be paper.
You force yourself to breathe slower, count to four in, hold, four out. You can’t let yourself fall apart here. Not now, not where he could see you, not where he could ask questions you’re not ready to answer. You focus on the cold of the bottle, the sting of the stitches, the bland nothingness of the kitchen—anything but the ache in your chest, the desperate, insistent want that’s still thrumming under your skin.
You open your eyes and swallow hard, forcing your features into something neutral, something that won’t betray the chaos inside you. You catch your reflection in the microwave door—a pale, tired face, eyes shadowed, mouth pressed tight. You try to find the cracks, the evidence of how close you are to falling apart, but all you see is exhaustion. Maybe a little haunted, too.
You take another pull from the bottle, clutching it in both hands to keep from fidgeting. Just a few more minutes, you tell yourself. Just a little longer. You can hold it together. You have to—at least until you get outside, until you’re alone with your thoughts and the city’s noise to drown them out.
From behind, Adrian’s voice floats in, easy, concerned, “You need me to walk you home?” He tries to sound casual, like it’s just another night, but you can hear the careful softness in his tone. “It’s pretty late.”
You turn, the kitchen light catching on his hair, and find him leaning in the doorway. His vigilante suit is long gone, replaced by a faded t-shirt and sweats—something lived-in, something that makes him look softer, more tangible, more real. More dangerous, somehow, to the fragile grip you have on yourself.
You force a smile. “I’m all good. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can handle myself.” You swallow, regretting it instantly. Because that isn’t how this goes. Normally, he’d walk you home, and you’d both stop at that gas station with the cashier whose hair looks like it’s survived three world wars. You’d grab those rubbery, over-microwaved burritos that tasted like nostalgia and risk, and you’d wander the empty streets together, laughing at nothing, letting the night settle around you like a secret.
But now Adrian is looking at you like you’ve just kicked him in the chest. Five times. His posture shifts, shoulders rounding forward as if bracing for a blow.
“Have I done something?” he asks quietly, pushing off the doorframe. There’s no grin, no glint of mischief—just raw, unguarded worry. He looks at you the way someone does when they’re waiting to be left behind. Like he’s expecting it.
You shake your head, sharp and desperate. He never could do anything wrong—not with you. He could break your heart, ruin your life, and you’d thank him for it if he’d just say he loved you at the end.
“No. No, I promise—it’s not you,” you say, the words tumbling out too fast, too earnest.
He doesn’t quite believe you. He takes another slow step forward, searching your face for answers. “Are you sure? You can tell me if I did. I mean, if it’s about me taking your favorite knife, I’ll give it back after I sharpen it. I know how much you hate people touching your stuff, and I just—sort of took it without asking, sorry.”
You let out a breathless laugh, almost a gasp. “Adrian, it’s not about the knife. You can always use my knives. Or my guns.”
He still looks wary, as if he’s standing on a trapdoor. “Then what’s wrong? Because you’ve been…weird. For weeks. You know you can talk to me, right?” He tries for a smile—a crooked, hopeful thing. “Judgment-free zone, remember?”
“Unless we’re judging them,” you fire back, forcing a grin, hoping it hides the tremor in your voice.
“Exactly.” He’s watching you—really watching—like he’s trying to see through every wall you’ve built. Like he knows there’s something you’re not saying, and he’s just waiting, patient, stubborn. “So?”
You let out a shaky breath, the words so close to spilling out. I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, but it’s killing me. I want you so badly I can barely breathe around you.
But you can’t. The risk is too much. Instead: “Adrian, I mean it. It’s not you.”
He hesitates, then tries another angle, voice soft with worry. “Is it your ex? Did we not teach him enough of a lesson last time? I thought setting his car on fire was good enough, but if he’s still giving you trouble, I can—”
You can’t help it—a snort escapes you, quick and sharp. “It’s not my ex, I swear.”
He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can spiral further. “Drop it, okay? I’m just…overtired. Overworked. Sore. Probably need a holiday or something.” You manage a smile, aiming for reassuring, praying it lands.
He studies you for another long moment, like he wants to press, like he wants to fix whatever’s broken even if he doesn’t know what it is. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you say, more firmly this time, and hope he can’t hear the lie trembling underneath.
He nods, but you can see he’s unconvinced. There’s a silence between you, awkward and heavy, filled with everything you want to say and can’t. You take another sip, wishing it could wash away everything you’re feeling, wishing it could cool the heat of longing that won’t leave you alone.
And when you look at him—really look, at the way he stands there, uncertain and open and so damn close—you wonder if maybe your mask isn’t as convincing as you hoped.
Adrian is quiet as he walks you to the door, the hush settling between you more eloquent than any words. The apartment feels cavernous, every footstep echoing, each second stretching out like it might never end. You glance sideways at him as you reach the entryway, catching the way his hands fidget in his pockets, the way his jaw works as if he’s chewing over what he can’t say.
Without a word, he bends and picks up one of his duffle bags from beside the door—black canvas, patched and battered from years of use. He holds it out for you, the weight of it solid and familiar. You can feel the heft of your bloodied clothes inside, the subtle rattle of your weapons tucked carefully beneath the fabric.
“I cleaned off your stuff as best I could,” he says, his voice low, almost shy. “Didn’t want you to have to deal with it tonight. Figured you’d want it back.”
You take the bag from him, your fingers brushing his for a heartbeat too long. It’s heavy in your arms, grounding you, a reminder of the night’s violence and everything you’re still carrying inside. You manage a small, grateful noise, but your throat feels too tight for words.
For a moment, you both stand in the narrow entryway, neither quite willing to break the fragile peace between you. Your hand hovers on the door handle, reluctance tightening your chest. Adrian shifts his weight, searching your face with that open, earnest concern you’re not sure you deserve.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” he tries again, softer this time. His eyes are impossibly gentle, his voice stripped of its usual bravado. “About anything. I mean it.”
Your hand lingers on the handle, the cool metal biting at your palm. You want to tell him—want to spill every aching secret, every impossible hope. Instead, you rest the side of your head against the door, letting it support your weight for just a second. You look at him, really look, and let yourself soften for him in a way you haven’t let yourself all night.
You offer him the smallest of smiles, tender and tired. “Night, Adrian,” you whisper, your voice barely carrying in the quiet.
He blinks, looking like he wants to protest, but you’re already turning the knob, already stepping through the threshold into the harsh, fluorescent-lit hallway. The door clicks shut behind you, muffling the world, shutting out everything except your own ragged breathing.
For the first time all night, you let yourself exhale. You press your forehead to the cool wood of the door, clutching the duffle bag to your chest. The weight of it is nothing compared to the weight you’ve been carrying inside.
You let yourself breathe, really breathe, in the solitude of the empty hallway—feeling the ache of everything unsaid, the relief of finally being alone with your messy, unspoken longing. For a moment, you wonder if Adrian is on the other side of the door, his palm pressed flat against it, wishing you would come back inside. But you can’t. Not tonight.
Maybe one day. Maybe soon. But not tonight.
You hold that hope tight as you take your first step down the hall, the bag swinging at your side, your heart still pounding with everything you haven’t said.
<><><><><><><> 
It had been two days since you’d last seen Adrian. Two days of silence, punctuated only by the persistent buzz of your phone as he tried—again and again—to reach you. He’d sent you memes, the kind that usually made you snort-laugh; blurry photos of himself with the 11th Street kids, all wild grins and tangled limbs; even a few hopeful texts, each one an invitation in disguise. Movie night? Burritos? Patrol? He was trying, you could see it in every message—trying to bridge the distance that had sprung up between you, trying to make things normal again.
And you kept brushing him off, guilt gnawing at your insides. Sorry, not tonight. Think I’m getting sick. Gonna stay in, rest up. It wasn’t exactly a lie. You did feel off. But it had nothing to do with a cold or a bug—nothing a cup of tea and a day in bed could fix.
You stared at the ceiling from your spot on the couch, phone pressed to your chest, and tried to convince yourself this was what you needed. Space. Time. Distance enough to let your head clear, to let your heart slow back down to something manageable. But it wasn’t working. You missed him. Missed the way he filled a room without even trying, the sound of his laugh, the way he could make you feel seen with just a look.
You had spent the last two days drifting through your apartment like a ghost, unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. The TV played quietly in the background, some sitcom reruns that you weren’t really watching. You’d half-heartedly started cleaning, then abandoned it, leaving a half-swept pile of dust by the kitchen doorway. Even food seemed pointless—you’d been living off toast and instant noodles, your appetite as absent as your motivation.
But every time your phone vibrated, your heart leaped in your chest. Every time Adrian’s name flashed across your screen, you felt that familiar pull—a mix of longing, guilt, and something sharp-edged you didn’t have a name for.
It would have been easier if you were actually sick. A fever or cough you could blame. Something tangible, something you could fight. But this was worse. It was just you, your thoughts, and the memory of Adrian’s hands on your skin, his worry in his eyes, the way he’d looked at you like you hung the damn moon.
You wanted to see him. God, you wanted to see him. But every time you thought about being near him again, your stomach twisted, your throat closed up. What if you couldn’t keep it together? What if he saw right through you? What if you slipped and let everything spill out—everything you’ve been holding back for months?
No. You weren’t ready. Not yet.
So you let his texts pile up, unread and unanswered, telling yourself you just needed one more night. One more evening cocooned in solitude, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you like a too-warm blanket. Maybe tomorrow, you promised yourself. Maybe then you’d be strong enough to open the door, to let Adrian back in, to stop pretending you didn’t miss him with every atom of your body.
But Adrian had always been immune to the boundaries you tried to set—ever since you were kids. He’d appear at your side when you scraped your knee, show up at your window when the nightmares got too loud, sit beside you in silence until the storm passed. If he thought you needed him, no amount of I’m fine, really would keep him away.
Today was no different.
At 1:20 pm, the knock came. A sharp, insistent rap that made you groan into your blanket. The TV was playing some sitcom rerun you’d seen a dozen times, the apartment was a mess, and you hadn’t bothered to change out of your softest, ugliest sweatpants. You told yourself you’d ignore it—no one important ever knocked during the day. But the knock came again, louder, patient.
You shuffled to the door, heart thudding. Maybe it was the landlord. Maybe it was a package. But when you cracked the door open, there he was: Adrian, in a dark blue shirt and jeans, hair tousled, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. He held up two white plastic bags, as if presenting a peace offering.
He didn’t give you a chance to argue. “Okay, so I know you said you needed a break, or a vacation,” he began, words tumbling out in a rush, “but I have like five dollars and fifteen cents in my account because of Peacemaker and those stupid $4 shots at the bar, so I can’t exactly get you a plane ticket. But—” He hefted the bags. “I do have copious amounts of… stuff.” His grin was so bright you almost laughed.
You wanted to cry. Because this was Adrian—unapologetically, irrepressibly Adrian—always finding his way in, always making you feel like maybe you were worth caring about. You opened the door wider, stepping aside so he could come in, and shut it behind him with a soft click.
He moved straight to your cluttered table, setting the bags down and unpacking them like he was unveiling some grand prize on a game show. “Okay, so—I have a bottle of Malibu. Technically, I stole it from Peacemaker, but I don’t think he’ll mind. I have—” He rummaged through the first bag, pulling out a sheet mask and a candle, which he sniffed and immediately wrinkled his nose at. He handed it to you. You brought it to your nose: cedarwood and vanilla, warm and grounding.
He started to hand you something else—an absurdly fluffy pair of socks, a tiny chocolate bar—but you arched an eyebrow, incredulous. “Where did you get all this?”
He ducked his head, sheepish. “Oh, Leota helped. I told her you’d been… a little off lately, and she made me a list. Said you needed a holiday, even if it was just on the couch. I got the booze, though.” He grinned, proud of his contribution.
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “Of course you did.” You softened, voice quiet. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”
He shrugged, earnest and vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. “You haven’t been yourself. I don’t know what’s going on, but… I hope this helps. Even just a little.”
You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you did the only thing that felt right: you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight. He returned it instantly, holding you so fiercely it was almost as if he was afraid you might slip away. You fit perfectly in his arms, and for a moment, the world felt smaller, safer. His chin brushed the top of your head as he pulled you even closer, his hand rubbing slow circles down your back.
You let yourself linger, just a second longer—letting his warmth, his steadiness, seep into you. Letting yourself believe that maybe, with him, you could be okay.
When you finally pulled back, you gave him a watery smile. “I’ll go get glasses. But we are absolutely not telling Peacemaker we stole his alcohol.”
You heard Adrian’s voice echo after you as you made your way to the kitchen, the tiniest bit defensive: “It’s communal! I paid half!”
You shook your head, smiling into the cupboard as you grabbed two mismatched glasses, feeling a little lighter than you had in days. Maybe you weren’t ready to tell him everything. Maybe you’d never be. But for now, Adrian was here, and that was enough.
You returned to the living room with the two glasses balanced carefully in your hands, the soft glow of the candle painting the table in shifting gold. The Malibu bottle caught the afternoon light, sending shards of brightness across the cluttered surface. For the first time in days, the air in your apartment felt lighter, the oppressive quiet finally broken.
Adrian was sprawled on the couch, legs stretched out, but as you approached, he straightened a little, that half-smile curling on his lips. He watched you with a kind of quiet intensity, his gaze lingering on you as you set the glasses down. You could feel the weight of it—how he traced every small movement, every brush of your hand, as if he was memorizing the ordinary details of this moment. His eyes were bright, searching, almost reverent. You wondered if he realized how obvious he was being.
You sat down beside him, closer than you needed to, the edge of your knee bumping his. The air between you seemed to hum with something unspoken. For a second, he didn’t look away, and the world felt very, very still.
But then, Adrian’s smile faltered. His gaze flickered away from yours, dropping to the table as if suddenly the flickering candle or the crumpled grocery bag were the most fascinating things in the world. His whole posture shifted—shoulders dipping, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The easy confidence that usually radiated off him dimmed, replaced by a strange, uncertain vulnerability.
You tore open the wrapper of the chocolate bar, the foil crinkling loud in the quiet. You broke it in half, offering him the bigger piece because you knew he’d notice if you didn’t. He hesitated, then took it from your hand, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment.
“You good?” you asked, tilting your head as you watched him. “You look like your whole brain just short circuited.”
Adrian blinked, almost startled, then looked back at you. He drew in a sharp breath, as if steadying himself. “I think it did,” he said, his voice soft, almost a confession.
You grinned, nudging his leg with your own. “And you’re busy worrying about me,” you teased, shaking your head. “Meanwhile, you’re out here running on what? Two brain cells?”
He grinned back, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “You have custody of them today, that’s why.”
You raised an eyebrow, playing along, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness. “Dangerous move. You know I’m irresponsible.”
He made a dramatic show of sighing, spreading his hands and rubbing them against his thighs. “I trust you with my life, so, you know. Brain cells, too.”
You leaned back, getting comfortable, letting the warmth of the room and the closeness settle around you. “You’re pouring,” you declared, gesturing at the Malibu. “Call it guest’s honor.”
Adrian hesitated, glancing at the bottle, then back at you, a flicker of something uncertain passing through his eyes. “I think I’ve earned the right to be more than a guest,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he probably meant.
You shot him a sideways look, lips quirking. “Okay, so start paying rent then. There’s no in-between here.”
He laughed, but as he unscrewed the cap and poured the drinks, his smile faded again, a crease appearing between his brows. You watched the way his hand trembled just a little, the way he seemed to be turning something over in his mind. He set the bottle down, the noise a little too loud, then composed himself, mask snapping back into place as he handed you your drink.
“You sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice softer this time, catching the fleeting look of confusion and worry on his face.
He paused when you asked, really paused, as if weighing the truth on his tongue. For a second, you saw something raw and uncertain flicker in his eyes, a vulnerability he almost never let slip. You wondered—not for the first time—if he would ever actually tell you if he wasn’t okay. Or if he’d always just patch himself up, smile, and keep moving forward, the way he always had.
After a breath, he managed a small, practiced smile. It was the kind of smile you’d learned to read over years of friendship—reassuring on the surface, but a little too careful at the edges, like it would crack if you pressed too hard. “Always,” he said, and you could hear the effort in the single word.
You studied him for a moment longer, watching as he took a sip of his drink. His hand lingered on the glass, knuckles pale. He clenched his jaw once, twice, almost like he was trying to steel himself against something, and then set the glass down with a little more force than necessary.
Before you could ask again, he launched into a story—something wild and rambling about Peacemaker and Harcourt getting into a shouting match at a liquor store, the kind of tale that was all tangents and exasperated hand gestures. He talked with his whole body, voice animated, eyes flicking between you and the ceiling and the far wall, anywhere but your face for a while. Every so often, his gaze returned to you, searching, checking, like he wasn’t sure if you were really there with him.
But you couldn’t focus on the story, not really. You caught fragments—something about Harcourt threatening to break Peacemaker’s nose with a bottle of cheap vodka, Adrian’s dramatic imitation of her glare—but most of your attention was caught up in him. In the way he’d shown up at your door, arms full of ridiculous comfort, determined to pull you out of whatever dark place you’d sunk into. In the way he looked at you, like you were worth it, like you were worth the effort, worth the worry.
His presence filled the room, warm and steady, and you felt that ache in your chest again—the one you’d been trying to ignore for weeks. The one that told you the truth you’d been too afraid to say out loud.
You loved him.
You loved him in all the ways that mattered, in all the ways that made it impossible to imagine your life without him. You loved the way he tried to make you laugh even when he was struggling, the way he cared so fiercely, so relentlessly, even when he didn’t have the words for it. You loved the way he looked at you now, as if you were something rare and precious, something he wanted to protect.
He finished the story with a flourish, looking at you with an expectant grin, waiting for you to laugh. And you did—soft and genuine—because for the first time in days, you felt seen.
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stereor4t · 1 year ago
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lesbian movies I've seen so far (review based on my tastes)
I'm going to give my opinion of the lesbian movies I've seen so far and I'm going to give them a score from 1 to 5 stars :3 it may contain some spoilers
Bound(1996)
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For the year this movie was made, I was actually surprised by the END of it(fuck the obsession with killing the protagonist). I didn’t really have much faith in it by how it stars, but man, I was so surprised, I loved it, be gay do crime. ★★★★☆
Gia(1998)
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God, this movie is my new roman empire, I didn’t know about Gia’s story, but the ending of the movie DESTROYED ME. the scene where shes talking with Linda and she says: now we have all the time in the world, I was so moved by it, I loved it. It’s currently one of my favorite movies.★★★★★
Lost and delirious(2001)
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ugh shakespearean shit, this movie touches more than one of us when it comes to the experience of liking girls. I liked it but I felt like there was a lot of wasted potential that could’ve made it great, tbh i just wanted Paulie to be happy; the fact the Piper Perabo is in it helps the score too. ★★★☆☆
D.E.B.S.(2004)
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ITS THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE IN THE WORLD, GOD. I actually hated this movie before watching it ‘cause I thought it was some dumb comedy, but god, when I gave it a chance it BLEW ME AWAY. If you want to see some lesbian spies enemies to lovers shit watch debs.  ★★★★★
My summer of love(2004)
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Personally, I HATED this movie kjj, I didn’t really get ANYTHING at all, like it felt like everything was just too rushed??? like when did they even fall in love lol? Gets points just for Emily Blunt. ★★☆☆☆
Imagine me & you(2005)
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Piper Perabo again and Lena Heady THE WOMAN. This movie is ART, my fav movie, it’s beautiful, comfort movie af. The true don’t let your husband keep you from meeting your future wife. ★★★★★
Loving Annabelle(2006)
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This movie was made for all of us who once liked a teacher or profesor. I liked it quite a lot, but I feel like seize it’s true potential. Personally, I choose to think that the alternative ending it’s the true one lol. ★★★☆☆
Bloomington(2010)
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Again for us that like fantasizing about our teachers. I like this movie but again, I feel like they didn’t really make the most of it jskdja annoying af bitching about the same but yeah, it bothered me. Anyway, i liked the movie, and I didn’t like the ending at all,I felt bad for the poor teacher :c. ★★★☆☆
A perfect ending(2012)
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I know a lot of people hate this movie and think it’s shit, but I personally love it lol. Idk I remember that when I watched it it got me super emotional and i liked it a lot, dont care what anyone says to me it’s a good movie. ★★★☆☆
The girl king(2015)
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★☆☆☆☆
Didn’t like it at all, boring af, i didn’t really get it, idk, i was expecting more. ★☆☆☆☆
First girl i loved(2016)
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Im fond of this movie, it was one of the first ones I saw, the ending just made a me a bit frustrated, but I liked it, Brianna Hildebrand with a wig funny as hell. ★★★☆☆
Disobedience(2017)
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Rachel Weisz and McAdams DAMN. Great movie, I liked it in all aspects. Although the ending wasn’t what I expected I still liked it. ★★★★★
Tell it to the bees(2018)
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Mmm I think this movie is kinda meh, like it’s okay but I feel like it lacks something for me to like it, tho I didn’t get the ending, like I don’t understand the decisions each one took. ★★☆☆☆
Ammonite(2020)
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Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan!!!! I liked it but I didn’t love it, I never got to understand if Mary hated or loved Charlotte. The ending got me frustrated!!! ★★★☆☆
Crush(2022)
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The kind of movie you gotta watch after Gia, I liked it I thought it was silly, like very much teenage romcom sort of shit, like the Kissing Booth but for lesbians. ★★★☆☆
You can live forever(2022)
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I think this is a great movie, interesting story, I wasn’t expecting the whole ending sequence, what Marike says to Jamie destroyed me, in my head theyre the young version of the Disobedience ones. ★★★★★
Booksmart(2019)
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GREAT MOVIE, very entertaining and funny, I liked it quite a lot, it’s perfect to watch it with friends. Gigi is just like me fr best character ever. ★★★★★
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argoscity · 2 years ago
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ULTIMATE SUPERGIRL READING GUIDE
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since i've been asked a few times in the past for various reading guides for kara, i thought i'd compile them all into one post for the sake of convenience!
this guide has reading orders for supergirl comics in PRE-CRISIS (1959-1985), POST-CRISIS (2004-2011), NEW 52 (2011-2016), REBIRTH (2016-2021), and INFINITE FRONTIER (2021-present).
if you have any questions at all don't be afraid to shoot me an ask!
for each section bolded comics are required, italicized comics are recommended, and everything else is optional!
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ORIGIN AND MIDVALE ERA (NOTE: you'll have to flip to the back of each issue to get to kara's section!) action comics (1938) #252, 258, 267, 276, 278-282, 285, 295, 309-310, 313, 317
STANHOPE COLLEGE action comics (1938) #318-319, 322-323, 332-333, 337, 339, 340, 350, 358, 359, 366-368, 369-370, 371-372, 374-376 world’s finest (1941) #169 adventure comics (1938) #381-382, 383, 384, 386-389, 391, 393-394, 395-397, 399, 400, 402, 404-405
K-SFTV REPORTER — SAN FRANCISCO adventure comics (1938) #406-407 action comics (1938) #402 (second story titled "superman vs. supergirl: feud of the titans") adventure comics (1938) #409-415, 417, 419, 420, 421-424
VANDYRE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1972) #1-10
STUDENT ADVISOR — FLORIDA (NOTE: every member of the superfamily has a story in the superman family (1974), so you'll have to flip through to find kara's section!) the superman family (1974) #165, 168, 171, 174, 177, 180, 182 justice league of america (1960) #132-134 the superman family #183, 184-186, 187-189, 191-193, 194, 196-198, 199, 200, 201-202, 203, 204-205, 206-207
ACTRESS — NEW YORK the superman family (1974) 208-210, 211-214, 215-216, 217, 218 superman (1939) #373 (second story titled “an eye (and ear) on the world!”) detective comics (1937) #508-510 the superman family #219-222
THE GREAT DARKNESS SAGA (i recommend this storyline in it's entirety, but kara only appears in the last issue!) legion of superheroes (1980) #290-294
LAKE SHORE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1982) #1-12 (cw: nazi imagery in the brief interlude in #12)  supergirl (1982) #13-15 (cw: antisemitism, nazi imagery, depictions of the holocaust.) supergirl (1982) #16-23
LAST APPEARANCES AND DEATH legion of super-heroes (1980) #300-303 dc comics presents (1978) #28 tales of the legion of super-heroes (1984) #314-315 crisis on infinite earths (1985) #4-7
BONUS POST-COIE APPEARANCES christmas with the super-heroes (1988) #2 (last story titled “should auld acquaintance be forgot”) supergirl (1996) #49, 75-80 solo (2004) #1 (third story titled “young love”) convergence: adventures of superman (2015) #1-2
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ORIGIN superman/batman (2003) #8-13  (or you can watch superman/batman: apocalypse (2010) instead which I recommend! the art is a lot more tasteful and it's a very faithful adaptation of the comic so you won’t be missing out on anything.)
KARA WITH THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES supergirl and the legion of super-heroes (2006) #16-36
LOEB AND KELLY HELL ERA supergirl (2005) #1-5, 9-10, 19 (you don’t have to read any of this since it gets retconned anyway, but if you’re interested in kara’s early characterization, the beginnings of her friendship with cassie sandsmark, or her difficulty fitting in on earth then you’re welcome to read what i’ve provided.)
KELLEY PUCKETT ERA Amazons Attack! teen titans (2003) #47-48  amazons attack! (2007) #3  supergirl (2005) #20  amazons attack! (2007) #4  teen titans (2003) #49
supergirl (2005) #21-22  teen titans (2003) #50, 51-55  supergirl (2005) #25-33
Superman: Brainiac  action comics (1938) #866-870
GATES AND IGLE HEAVEN ERA supergirl (2005) #34
New Krypton (new krypton is one of my favorite events and i recommend it in its entirety, but for the sake of brevity I’ll only be listing the issues relevant to kara.) superman: new krypton special #1  superman (1939) #681  adventure comics special featuring guardian #1  action comics (1938) #871  supergirl (2005) #35  superman (1939) #682  action comics (1938) #872  supergirl (2005) #36  superman (1939) #683  action comics (1938) #873
teen titans (2003) #66  supergirl (2005) #37-42
Friends and Fugitives superman: secret Files 2009 #1  supergirl (2005) #43  action comics (1938) #881  supergirl (2005) #45  action comics (1938) #882  supergirl (2005) #46-47
supergirl (2005) annual 1, #48-50
Last Stand of New Krypton  adventure comics (2009) #8  superman: last stand of new krypton #1  supergirl (2005) #51  superman (1938) #698  adventure comics (2009) #9  superman: last stand of new krypton #2  adventure comics (2009) #10  supergirl (2005) #52  superman (1938) #699  superman: last stand of new krypton #3 superman: war of the supermen (2010) #0, 1-4 
supergirl (2005) #53-57, annual 2, 58-59
END OF SUPERGIRL VOL 5 supergirl (2005) #60-64 supergirl (2005) #65-67
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ORIGIN and SUPERGIRL VS THE WORLDKILLERS supergirl (2011) #1-7
SUPERGIRL and SILVER BANSHEE supergirl (2011) #8-11
SUPERGIRL and SUPERBOY superboy (2011) #6
SANCTUARY supergirl (2011) #12, 0, 13
H’EL ON EARTH superman (2011) #13 supergirl (2011) #14 superman (2011) #14 superboy (2011) #15 supergirl (2011) #15 superboy (2011) #16 superboy (2011) Annual #1 supergirl (2011) #16 superman (2011) #16 superboy (2011) #17 supergirl (2011) #17 superman (2011) #17
SUPERGIRL and POWERGIRL supergirl (2011) #18-20
CYBORG SUPERMAN supergirl (2011) #21-23 action comics (2011) #23.1 supergirl (2011) #24
KRYPTON RETURNS action comics (2011) annual #2 superboy (2011) #25 supergirl (2011) #25 superman (2011) #25
SUPERGIRL VS LOBO supergirl (2011) #26-27
RED DAUGHTER OF KRYPTON supergirl (2011) #28-29 red lanterns (2011) #28-29 supergirl (2011) #30 red lanterns (2011) #30 supergirl (2011) #31 red lanterns (2011) #31-32 supergirl (2011) #32-33
SUPERMAN: DOOMED (this is a whole storyline but I'll only be listing the issues that kara appears in!) superman/wonder woman (2013) #9 action comics (2011) #33 supergirl (2011) #34 superman: doomed (2014) #2 action comics (2011) #35 supergirl (2011) #35
FUTURES END supergirl: futures end (2014) #1
JUSTICE LEAGUE UNITED justice league united (2014) #1-5 justice league united (2014) annual #1 justice league united (2014) #6-10
CRUCIBLE supergirl (2011) #36-40
FINAL DAYS OF SUPERMAN (kara only appears in the issues i've italicized and bolded, but i put all the relevant issues if you wanted to read the full storyline!) superman (2011) #51 batman/superman (2013) #31 action comics (2011) #51 superman/wonder woman (2013) #28 batman/superman (2013) #32 action comics (2011) #52 superman/wonder woman (2013) #29 superman (2011) #52
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KARA IN NATIONAL CITY supergirl: rebirth #1
supergirl (2016) #1-8 batgirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #9-12
supergirl (2016) annual 1supergirl #13-20
world's finest: batwoman and supergirl #1-2
ROGOL ZAAR and THE SINS OF THE CIRCLE the man of steel #1-2, 3-6 supergirl #21-33, #34-36
LEVIATHAN and BATMAN WHO LAUGHS superman: leviathan rising special #1 supergirl #34-36 supergirl (2016) annual 2 supergirl #37-42
HOUSE OF KENT action comics (2016) #1022-1023 action comics (2016) #1024-1028
FUTURE STATE superman of metropolis (2021) #1-2 kara zor el, superwoman (2021) #1-2
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action comics 2021 annual
WOMAN OF TOMORROW supergirl: woman of tomorrow (2021) #1-8
WORLD'S FINEST batman/superman: world's finest (2022) #2-6, 8, 12
A WORLD WITHOUT CLARK KENT and RED MOON (kara is featured in the back-up story! if you want the full context of this plot i recommend reading the full warworld arc in action comics [action comics #1030-1046, superman: warworld apocalypse #1]!) action comics (2016) #1044-1046, 1047-1049
DAWN OF DC action comics (2016) #1051-1053, 1055-1056 superman (2023) #1-3 power girl special #1 steelworks (2023) #1-3
KNIGHT TERRORS knight terrors: superman (2023) #1-2
DAWN OF DC (continued) action comics: doomsday special (2023) superman (2023) #7 hawkgirl (2023) #4 supergirl special (2023)
NEW WORLDS [this arc starts on action comics #1057—kara doesn't appear in that issue but I recommend reading it for context!] action comics (2016) #1058-1060 action comics 2023 annual
JOURNEY TO FERIMBIA powergirl (2023) #5, 6-7
HOUSE OF BRAINIAC action comics (2016) #1064 superman (2023) #13 action comics (2016) #1065 superman (2023) #14 action comics (2016) #1066 superman (2023) #15
UNIVERSE END action comics (2016) #1070-1081
MISCELLANEOUS RECENT APPEARANCES: justice league unlimited (2024) #1, 4-6 superwoman special #1 superman (2023) #21-22
SUMMER OF SUPERMAN superman unlimited (2025) #1-2
MISADVENTURES IN MIDVALE supergirl (2025) #1-2
UPCOMING: supergirl (2025) [monthly ongoing] new history of the dc universe (2025) #2 [out july 23rd] dc's kal-el-fornia love (2025) [out july 30th]
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yanderederee · 2 years ago
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MeetMyGang
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April25th, 2004
a/n: Please enjoy!!♡ // BajixTutor!Reader series // ct:fluff
lol lowkey inspired by this behind-the-scenes clip of the live action actors having a push-up contest!
before › now! › after
Just after the events of Rooting for You!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦
“Bring her by next meeting,”
Mikey ordered.
Baji sweat under the intense seriousness Mikey was radiating.
“It’s really not what you think, M-“ Baji tried to disagree, but Mikey simply wasn’t taking no for an answer.
This was an order, not a request.
“I just wanna meet her!” Mikey pouted. “Anyone who can get You to stop on a rampage is worth meeting.” Draken agreed, smirking at Baji. “It’s not everyday we get to see Baji Keisuke shy,” Mitsuya shoved Baji playfully. “She’s got to be a saint of some kind to put up with your stubborn ass!”
Baji groaned, glaring at each and every one of the Toman founders, who were simultaneously grinning wickedly back at him.
“I said, no.”
He was determined.
Everyone went quiet, and soon all eyes landed to the ominous aura in the air: all eyes on Mikey.
Baji wasn’t budging.
“Fine,”
Mikey shrugged, outwardly appearing indifferent. “Not like I can force you.”
And that was it.
The meeting ended.
That was way too easy.
Baji didn’t have a good feeling, when the room started to file empty.
“Good luck,” Draken, the last person in the room, had sighed, before leaving Baji in a cold sweat.
— April27th, 2004
“Hmm~mh-mm~”
Whisper
“Who is that guy?”
“I’m not sure, be looks like he’s waiting on someone…”
“He kinda looks.. like a delinquent, doesn’t he?”
“Well he’s driving a bike, so…”
“Maybe he’s waiting on a girlfriend?~”
“Don’t joke like that! Who would even…”
Whisper
“Yyy/nn-chinnn~ y/n-chin~” Mikey whistled to himself, scanning the ocean of student heads while he wait leisurely on his CB250.
Baji was PISSED.
“What is that guys deal?!”
“Who?” You asked, behind him like a little duckling.
“No one!” Baji bit back full force, practically red, trying to hide Mikey from your window viewing pleasure.
Barely taken aback, if at all, you hummed casually before shrugging. “Guess I’ll go find out ~” you gathered the last of your materials before pulling your bag neatly over your shoulder and starting your way towards the door.
“Wait!” Baji tried stopping you, but just as he reached for your hand to try and halt you, you did a quick sprint to the door, avoiding his touch. You grinned wickedly, yet so sweetly, actually, wait, what was with that giggle? He was so caught up in how cute you looked giggling at his bewildered expression, that he lost sight of you completely.
“Shit, wait, y/n!! “ he yelled, trying to make quick work to catch up to you. His glasses slid, the frames blocking his vision only for a moment, enough to make him bump against the door way in his quick pursuit.
“Damnit, Chifuyu!” Baji yelled, and up popped Chifuyu’s blond helmet. “Yes sir!”
“Don’t let Mikey get ahold of Y/n!” He ordered, and just like a good subordinate, Chifuyu clicked his heels. “GOT IT!”
As Baji and Chifuyu both went different directions, Ryusei couldn’t contain his laughter. “What the hell is going on?”
Just outside the school entrance, you snuck to-and-fro between mingling students to make sure you went unseen.
You were just curious after all. Baji never wanted to introduce you to any of his friends, and while it wasn’t like you two were dating, but you were curious about Baji’s personal life.
About his super cool biker gang friends!
You peeked a spying eye out past the gate, scanning the area to spot the culprit of Baji’s stress. It didn’t take long, given the low rumbling of an engine.
Biking boots.
Loose black trousers.
A white belt.
An oversized white v neck, shoulders covered with another school’s jacket. Not the same Tokyo Manji uniform you’d seen just the other day.
And as your gaze wandered to meet the face of this lazily dressed delinquent, you made direct eye contact with Manjiro Sano.
Your heart stopped. What kind of presence was this, that you were feeling? It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your lungs deflated and suddenly you were lightheaded. Were you holding your breath? Why couldn’t you breathe? Why was he looking at you so intently? Like you were—
“Y/n!” Whispered Chifuyu, bringing you back to reality.
But just before he got his hands on you, so had Mikey.
“Y/n-chin!~ there you are, I was looking for you!” Mikey laughed happily, his bike’s kickstand having been shoved in the ground with haste.
“Too late, shit-“ Baji hissed, just making it in time to witness Mikey holding your hands in his with glee. “C’mon, before your boyfriend snatches you away,” Mikey grinned at you, then glancing at Baji, who seemed to hear every word.
“You low hanging bastard! Don’t you dare—“ Baji started, but it was too late before Mikey was pulling you past your restrains- over and onto his bike, sitting in front of him.
“WHAT THE HELL!” School be damned, Baji couldn’t hide the hot rage that came from Mikey’s overstepping. But even when he tried reaching the two of you, Mikey was already throttling the gas.
The last thing Baji saw of you was your mildly worried expression.
“Seee ya~” Mikey laughed, so so very clearly amused, before riding away full speed.
“Mikkkeeeeyyyyy…” Baji was boiling over, further and further as the day went on.
Couldn’t he just respect one thing? One? Baji said no, No, damnit!
“Baji, we should follow them,” Chifuyu spoke, as though there wasn’t all hope lost. “C’mon.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦
“‘The hells your problem, knock it off!” Baji yelled.
Everyone was just surrounding you— trying to get a look at Baji’s Girlfriend. Or, that was the rumor.
“Baji-San has a girlfriend?!”
“No way! She’s just his tutor!”
“But he brought her here! That’s strange!”
“It’s unlike Baji to bring someone…”
“Shh he’ll hear you!”
“I didn’t say anything wron—“
“QUIT WHISPERING I CAN HEAR YOU BASTARDS!”
Baji groaned. This was the worst.
Chifuyu had good intentions, bringing you around to get a better understanding of who Baji really was, the side of him you didn’t know anything about.
And now here you were in the heart of it, and you looked amazed.
“Is that a real tattoo?” You asked one of the guys, peeking when the thug drew back his sleeve to show it off. “No, fuck off.” Baji pushed past, taking you away from the crowd.
“H-hey! Baji,” you tried to argue, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t care, we’re leaving.”
*reader begins using Baji instead of Kei/Keisuke while in front of his friends, to avoid being seen as disrespectful*
“Woah woah! Where’s the fire!” Smiled a nice looking boy with short hair and a cross earring. “You must be the famous Baji charmer,” he opened his hand to you, to which you shook politely. “Name’s Mitsuya, Mitsuya Takashi.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance Mitsuya-san, I don’t much about charming, but I do my best to keep Baji on top of classes.” You giggled.
Mitsuya paused, starring at you for a while, charmed. Quickly, he looked back up to smirk at Baji. “Lucky bastard.” He almost soluted before giving your hand a final squeeze, and backed off.
But you were a popular guest star, it was only a matter of time before you were swept away again. Much to Baji’s dismay. In the crowd of delinquents, it was getting hard to keep track of where you were being taken.
“Chifuyu, I’m about to lose it.” Baji informed, ready to throttle the next guy who put his hands on you. Chifuyu gulped. “J-just, hang tight boss!” He groaned, dreading the turn of events.
“I-is THAT a real tattoo?” You gasped, the next time you were spotted was with Draken, who was crouching for your convenience and chuckling at your bright eyed excitement. “I-is it a dragon? How cool!” You threatened to trace the ink outline.
“Ken Ryuguji, nice to meet you,” Draken had introduced himself, now standing up to full height.
“Wow, even your name means dragon? That’s kind of bad ass, right?”
Draken laughed, like you’d just said a hilarious joke. “It is bad ass isn’t it!” He laughed even harder. “She’s great, you should’ve brought her around sooner, Baji!”
And while Baji was off fuming, you stood there happily content.
“Hey, yaknow, I’m like, way stronger than Baji, right?” Mikey grinned, leaning in for a fake flirty gesture. Stalking you like a shadow, Mikey’s been having you make your rounds, all within his own supervision.
Mikey did find you rather adorable, after all.
Mikey liked the way you handled yourself, composed and confident in a crowd of scary looking thugs. He liked the way you respected them and treated them in a friendly manner. But Mikey really liked the way you smiled, the lovesick doe eyed puppy that adored Baji. He knew you and Baji were in the process of becoming an item.
But you weren’t yet, so he thought it no harm to pseudo flirt before Baji could have a valid reason to tell him off.
“I saw the way you kick! I was really impressed,” you praised him with an admiration. “Considering Baji is the strongest person I know, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”
This seemed to light a fire in Mikey. “Oh no, take more than just my word. Baji! C’mere so I can kick your ass!” He joked loudly.
Baji was almost thrilled when he finally found you again. And what made it all the better was the way you jogged over to be by his side.
Your presence alone was enough to allow him catch his breath.
When he looked down at you to assess your comfort levels, what with being pawned around like a shiny new toy, he was released to see your carefree smile.
“I’m also way stronger than Baji, by the way.” Out spoke Pah, almost startling you.
“Oh really? Maybe we should test which one of us is the strongest!”
“Stupid~, I’m just gonna win! Don’t even bother,”
“Now that’s a challenge I think I’ll take you up on.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys!”
And that’s how you ended up refereeing Toman’s first official strength and endurance competition.
Between Mitsuya and Draken, you made sure both of them seemed prepared enough for your the starting signal.
“… Go!”
And in traditional arm wrestling fashion, the twin dragons fought with all their strength, gripping for dear life to not be the loser.
They had a good few seconds of beefing back and forth, but soon became obvious it was Draken’s game.
“No fair! No one can beat Kenchin at arm wrestling! This is rigged!” Mikey yelled from the sidelines, not eager to be the one to follow up.
Next in the lineup, they wanted to try push ups. All ready in position, in a line so everyone was visible.
It didn’t take them long to tire themselves out— only a few seemed like they never would stop.
“Just give it up Mikey, I ain’t losin’ to you!” Baji huffed out, still fighting Mikey’s childish need to win. “You’re just sayin’ that cause you’re getting tired~ I could keep this up for hours!” Manjiro quipped back with barely a huff of exertion at all.
All that remained was Mikey, Baji, Draken and Chifuyu. Though, just as they rounded off to the fifteen minute mark, Chifuyu practically lost consciousness. And Draken honestly started getting bored.
“This is fun ‘n all, but don’t you guys have better things to do?” Out emerged another girl, with long blond hair. A wide smile bloomed over your features when you saw her.
“W-wow, you’re like, really pretty… Oh! Um, s-sorry, hi, I’m–“ you tried to introduce yourself, but Emma already knew. “Y/n, yeah, heard lots about you just from passing through.” She held out her hand to you, smiling in unison.
You shook her hand happily, “So, is it true?~ Are you and Baji shacking up?~” she whispered with a grin. Your face heated up dramatically at her question and shook your head. “No! No, n-not like that! We just go to school together!” You defended.
“Hmm~ if you say so.” She let off. “I’m Emma, by the way. Mikey’s my brother, if you couldn’t tell.”
You blinked a few times, turning the idea in your head. “Oh, that makes sense! You guys do look alike!” You nodded, and looked over at Baji and Mikey still squabbling on how to settle the score.
“Oi! Come on! We ain’t got all night!” Draken called to them, now that he finally had his fill of the excitement. “Just settle it with a good ol’ fashion fist fight and be done with it!”
Both Mikey and Baji huffed out some kind of reply, to their feet. “I’m so going to kick your ass.” Baji glared at Mikey. “Oho~ I’d like to see you try.” Mikey grinned back.
“Are they always this competitive?” You leaned closer to Emma in inquiry. “Yes, literally all the time.” She replied quickly, a unanimous nod waving over all else who heard the question.
That made you smile.
Overlooking the petty little dispute, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Before, you’d only ever seen Baji with a mild temper, holding his tongue and being the voice of reason in some cases. His thick rimmed glasses hid half his face, and you’d have never guessed his hair was actually as long as it was with the way he tied it back.
You began to fall for him ever since you saw the way he took such good care of the injured kitten, barely a month ago. You began noticing the cracks in the character he played up, and found it cute. The way he would stifle curse words, diverting his ever growing tempter.
Until eventually he began also showing interest in you as well. Meeting you anytime you asked for his presence, gradually asking you more about yourself, and reassuring you about things you couldn’t control.
This, too, was Baji Keisuke. Hot tempered, brash, snarky, confident, handsome… you knew you liked Baji before you knew how he really got along. He was a gentle person underneath it all. He loved animals, just as they loved him back.
Would you have feared him, if you saw this side of him before meeting him in school? Surely not, you’d been surrounded by delinquents for the last hour, and felt no discomfort whatsoever. That had to mean something, right?
“You got this, Baji-san!!” Chifuyu yelled out, snapping you out of you day dream. Everyone was cheering all around you as the fight was in full swing. Push after hard punch, they were fighting for blood. It took you off guard at first, the blood, but this was normal for them.
A swift kick to the side of the head, a block to counter, Baji looped his arm around Mikey’s foot to falter his landing. Before he could meet the ground, Mikey used his palms to push off, and send his uninterrupted foot under Baji’s chin to clock him in an undercut fashion. That definitely had to hurt.
Yet they fought on. In amazement, you starred. With everyone else cheering, the hype of battle began building inside you, until you felt ready to burst. “I believe in you, Kei!” You yelled out. In front row, he definitely heard you. It felt embarrassing having a girl root for you so explicitly, but damn did it work to fuel the fight in him.
Baji grinned wide, regaining his composure. His next punch really hurt, you could tell. Mikey’s expression was a dead give away of that. “Damn, you really pack a punch whenever your girl’s involved,” he teased. “Maybe we should bring her around more often.”
“Try it,” Baji bit back, taking the initiative. The two have sparred so much in their life, they could read each other’s moves easily. And Baji knew Mikey was losing on purpose.
Sure, losing to Baji left a bad taste in his mouth, losing in front of you tasted even more bitter. But at the end of the day, Mikey knew Baji really cared about you. He would have chances in the future to sweep you off your feet and let you reconsider who you liked best. But for now, he wouldn’t dare ruin the glow of excitement that lit up that cute face of yours.
“Winner! Baaajiii!” Draken’s voice rang with a roaring hoot. All of Toman hooted back in response, all in good fun. Mikey could afford losing petty fights in front of his subordinates every now and again. He was still The Invincible Mikey, and he’d be sure to whip anyone who actually questioned that standing.
You jumped in excitement at the declaration, clapping for your classmate. “Way to go Kei!!” You called out happily.
Baji knew he won by default, but he didn’t really care to rebuttal the outcome. Not when you looked so happy. He grinned at you and rolled his eyes. “Had it in the bag,”
“Mmhm~ good fight.” Mikey chuckled past the two of you. “Meeting adjourned!”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦
“See you ‘round!” Called out another Toman member, zooming past on their bike. You waved back politely, standing back while Baji worked on getting his bike ready to go. “Y/n~!” Emma caught your attention, hugging you warmly. “Nice to meet you, make it home safe, kay?” She smiled.
You smiled back. “I’ll be sure to do that! Make it home safe!” You waved her off when she hopped onto the back of Mikey’s bike. “Don’t be a stranger~” Mikey called back with a wide grin and a wave.
Baji rolled his eyes, and roared his engine. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back home.”
You paused, worried. “Don’t you usually drive home with Matsuno?” You asked. Chifuyu grinned and patted your back. “Sounds weird having you call me that, just call me Chifuyu, alright?”
“And second, don’t sweat it! I can walk home just fine.”
You gave a weary look. “Well, if you’re sure..” you said uneasily. “Hop on,” Baji encouraged, leaning the bike to one side so you could get on easier.
A few attempts later, you only managed to get yourself situated onto the back of the bike by using Baji’s shoulder for leverage.
Holy shit, Baji only just realized. You were so close. Way too close. Chest pressed flush to his back, you shakily gripped the sides of his uniform. He could feel you breath against the back of his neck.
Your legs felt weird being so close to the hot metal of the exhaust pipe, but Baji assured you it was probably safe.
(*please wear a layer of fabric to separate your skin from touching exhaust pipes/bike motors! It can in fact burn you if you are not careful!)
“Don’t worry so much, you’re fine. You rode on Mikey’s bike just a while ago, right?” He tried reassuring you when he started for takeoff.
“Y-yeah but I was sitting in front that time!”
“You want to sit in front now?” He joked.
“Can I?”
“No, that’s dangerous as hell.”
You laughed. “Then why’d you ask?”
“It was radical.” He rolled his eyes. “Rhetorical!” You yelled back.
“Whatever.”
741 notes · View notes
maukree · 1 month ago
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Masterpost with all parts
Heyyyyy, I’m back. Again.
Did you miss me? Don’t answer that, I’m fragile.
Anyway, I just posted Chapter 5 of my increasingly 616-obsessive winteriron fic (you know, the one that this recap was meant to be for and all, not that it got away from me or anything), and it suddenly hit me that I may have jumped the gun there a tiny bit in terms of canon context.
Oops.
So here I am, crawling back into this super short (ha. HA.) recap series to catch up with my own fic timeline before anyone starts shaking receipts at me in the comments. And yes, I’m painfully aware that my very fancy, very curated, very aesthetically pleasing cover art doesn’t actually list half the comics I’ve ended up referencing in these posts, but we’re still on track: from when Bucky pops into the 616 continuity just before Civil War, through all the post-Civil War fallout, and heading straight toward Fear Itself.
Yes, other events are going to pop up in between. No, I’m not updating my Photoshop files to reflect that. Just squint, pretend it’s all intentional, and move on.
Now, as for this specific part, if you read this, you’ll find out:
What happens to Tony as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
What happens to Bucky while Tony mostly flails under the weight of the world's dumbest job offer.
That there are some intersections between them, but this is canon, folks, and, sadly, they both spend time banging people completely wrong for them (just my opinion, calm down).
Still, this is the part where, if you make it to the end, you’ll finally know how the hell Tony ends up deleting his own brain after the Secret Invasion—because he’s just that dramatic—and who he sends the only backup to. It’s Bucky. Sorry, I just knew the suspense would be killing you.
Quick reminder: we left off Part 3 with Tony handing Bucky Steve’s shield, Bucky agreeing (somehow??) to let Tony mess around with his brain, and both of them pretending this was totally normal behavior and not the fandom equivalent of swapping promise rings.
Anyhow, let’s go.
Holy shit, you clicked again. What’s wrong with you? Kidding, please stay.
So… Tony has finished emotionally decimating the superhero community via Civil War, and also just had his sexy little moment with Bucky in Captain America (2004–2011).
I might repeat myself a bit here, but I’ll at least try to keep it only to the relevant shit you came here for. (Lies. I will likely repeat myself a lot here, because only a crazy person would re-read their own ramblings to see where I actually stopped. And I will very likely add a ton of completely irrelevant information and too many bad jokes, but if you are reading part 4, you might be sorta into it, so that’s your problem, not mine.) 
We are roughly over in Invincible Iron Man Vol. 4 (2004–2007), around Issue #15, where Tony bullshits himself into thinking he’s ready to lead. Despite the fact that he’s been freshly dumped by his entire friend group and is still grieving his dead boyfriend who asked him—in writing, to make it legal and binding or something—to take care of his very stabby former possibly-love.
This stretch of comics in general is fascinating because it’s less about the suit and more about Tony vs. The System, which is hilarious when you remember he is the system now. He’s balancing national security, superhuman politics, his own guilt, and the absolute circus that is post-Civil War America. I mean, you might love him, you might hate him, and he did make a spectacular mess of things in Civil War, but the man’s trying, okay? And the art is really nice. 
Invincible Iron Man (Vol. 4) #15–18: The Initiative 
This tiny arc is mostly foreshadowing and starts off Tony’s tenure as Director with exactly the kind of subtlety you’d expect from him: by pissing off everyone. Especially Dum Dum Dugan, who, as I’ve mentioned before, is around, is very ginger, has a very impressive mustache that deserves its own comic book run, and has some very strong opinions.
So, let’s talk about Dugan for a second. Because my man is not having it. Tony rolls into S.H.I.E.L.D. with his futurist swagger, immediately starts running it like a Stark Industries satellite office, replaces a beloved cook named Cookie (rip legend, we never knew you, but your name lives on) with a private chef, and suddenly—for completely no reason at all, honestly—Dugan's looking one fabulous lunch away from full mutiny.
I mean… he kind of has a point? From the very beginning, as soon as he takes the job, Tony is so hands-on as Director that it's a miracle anyone else at S.H.I.E.L.D. has anything to do. He’s micromanaging ops and personally suiting up to punch bioweapons, which is, arguably, super effective, but also very infuriating for hardened pros. I kinda agree with Dugan here in a sense that Tony’s behavior is giving the entire agency, who already has deeply repressed authority issues from Fury, too many reasons to call Tony both daddy and their emergency field response unit.
But don’t worry, Sal Kennedy is here to try and convince Dugan that Tony’s fit for the job. If you were around for Part 1 of this totally useless recap series, you’ll remember (or not, I don't remember if I told you about him) Sal from Extremis—Tony’s chill tech philosopher BFF who wears sandals on government property and speaks exclusively like a walking TED Talk. He is ride-or-die Team Tony, which we respect, and Sal spends most of Issue #15 trying to convince Dugan that installing childcare on the Helicarrier is a boss move (it is) and that Tony isn’t an actual threat to the republic (debatable). He’s the only person besides Jarvis who talks to Tony like a human being, which, of course, means he is absolutely doomed.
More on that in a minute.
Meanwhile, over in the “Should’ve Stayed in Jail” department, Maya Hansen is still around. Remember her from Extremis, where she invented nightmare fuel, emotionally manipulated Tony, got him nearly killed, and then helped him inject that nightmare fuel into his bloodstream? Good times.
So, yeah. This gal. Unofficially working on Extremis for Tony, officially killing Tony’s chances of having a normal relationship for the foreseeable future, and vibe-check failing in every panel. She and Tony have that tragic pseudo-ex energy that won’t fucking die already, mostly because she keeps hanging around long enough to remind us she still exists.
And Tony, poor bastard, is just trying to get to the part where he can start obsessing over Bucky in peace—but no. Maya is here with her Extremis research and suspicious side-deal offers behind Tony’s back because everyone in this comic is after Extremis like it’s a completed, no archive warnings applies, slow burn, good smut on AO3.
Also, yes, in case you’re wondering who’s looming in the background all mysterious and villainous—since there’s always one of those per series—it’s The Mandarin. Yay? Different from the MCU, for sure, and you don’t know that yet in these issues, but I do, and now you do, and I’m telling you this man will haunt Tony’s entire run like the yoga-practicing demon asshat he is. He doesn’t do much here at the beginning aside from loom and look ominous and flex his yoga poses, occasionally making me confuse him with Sal (’cause both could use a haircut), but…
Anyway.
By the time we hit Issue #18 and Initiative wraps up Tony’s intro to being Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., things go from “shaky office politics” to “oh no, Tony’s having a trauma spiral again.” 
Sal dies. 
And it is gnarly. It’s really gross, people, and it leaves Tony absolutely gutted and flashing back to a few folks he’s recently lost, starting with Steve.
Thankfully, this is not a Captain America comic book, and reminiscing about dead friends is more of a Steve move, so the writers of the Iron Man comic book promptly decided that this specific moment could wait and instead gave us an epic naked scene to round this arc off—for which I am willing to forever visit comic book shops on Wednesdays and buy so many I am running out of storage space, hoping for another naked Tony scene.
That. Yeah. Tony takes off his clothes and uses the power of being hot, upset, and nearly dead to defeat an Extremis-inspired biotech weapon. It’s symbolic. It’s sweaty. And yes, I will be including those panels.
This arc ends with Maya, the sweet summer traitor that she is, taking that shady offer and wandering off to go work for the Mandarin. Seriously. Get Bucky on the phone. Or someone else on the phone. Because this isn’t the person Tony should be banging, okay?
At this point, it should be painfully clear that the only person Tony should be entangled with in the 616—or any continuity—is either:
A) A traumatized assassin with a metal arm and an obsessive lip-licking habit
B) A traumatized, mouthy, currently unemployed and on-the-run photographer who goes by Spider-Man
C) Okay, fine, a guy who used to have a shield, but is currently dead, so not dealing with trauma, lucky him
Unfortunately, Peter is busy dealing with his own angst in New Avengers, Steve is, in fact, still dead, and Bucky is somewhere punching fascists and feeling feelings off-panel—which brings us to a small detour to discuss World War Hulk, because I briefly mentioned it in my fic, which I will continue aggressively plugging because it’s Tumblr and nothing is free in this life except maybe actual fanfiction.
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Invincible Iron Man (Vol. 4) #19–20: World War Hulk 
Ah yes. The event where Marvel looked at the most damaged and in need of a break heroes and said, “Want to be punched in the face?” And Tony, being Tony, said: Sure, I’ll go first. Make sure to hit hard.
A while ago, Tony and his big-brain boyband—also known as the Illuminati, or, as I like to call them, powerful assholes with terrible ideas—decided it would be a genius move to yeet Bruce Banner into space. For reasons, obviously. Because he was too unstable, dangerous, big green feelings, etc., and because nobody in that group has ever heard of successful therapy.
Naturally, Hulk comes back from space with an army, a lot of rage, a spaceship (well, you kinda need one to come back from space, but it’s a cool spaceship), and a very short, extremely pointed “Puny humans, I’m gonna wreck your shit” speech.
This is an actual Marvel event, but in issues #19–20, we stay tight on Tony’s perspective, while others, presumably, have their own tragedy happening. Since I read this event in full donkeys ago and don’t feel like doing it again just yet, here is a basic recap as it pertains to Tony.
Tony is spiraling hard. He feels genuinely awful about what they did. But guilt doesn't stop him from immediately dusting off the Hulkbuster armor to fly straight into Hulk’s fist, since 616 is peak martyr Tony. This is “let me throw my body at a problem because I deserve it and maybe also it’ll prove something to Steve, who’s still dead and everyone would not shut up about it, and Bucky, who’s probably watching” energy. It’s so Tony. And if by now you are at the very least not interested just a little in reading 616 comic books, idk what I’m doing wrong here.
Anyhow, Maria Hill and Dugan, who were skeptical at first, are fully Team Tony by this point. They’re trying to stop him from the full-on confrontation by reminding him they have protocols, but Tony always needs to suffer because he hates himself a little, so suffer he does, and he absolutely does not win. 
In fact, Avengers Tower gets leveled, which is deeply rude to all the fic writers who imagined Bucky moving into that specific version someday. Tony gets captured, but still looks great while doing that, assuming you’re into him being all chained up and in a lot of trouble. Panels included for all interested in that dynamic, you perverts. But I am not deleting those screenshots from my phone, so you are not alone. Isn’t that nice?
The actual World War Hulk is pretty fun, and a lot of shit does get wrecked, but Tony isn’t the one to save the day. It all boils down to the very shirt-ripping showdown between two of the most overpowered boys Marvel has ever created: Hulk vs. Sentry. And yes, if you’re here just after the new Thunderbolts movie, it’s that Sentry. Our boy with sad eyes and weird slippers—Bob.
I’m not gonna spoil anything about Bob (much), but 616 is different from the MCU, so don’t worry too much, I guess? The point is, both of them go full God Mode, and for a few glorious panels it’s “trauma vs. trauma,” gamma rage vs. unstable sun-god energy, and absolutely no one wins except the artists who got to draw it and readers who forked out $3.99 per issue for it.
In summary: this is a cool event, Tony gets his beatdown, gets humbled once again, and the city gets a facelift. I wasn’t yet a winteriron shipper when I read WWH, so I actually do not remember what the hell happened to Bucky during this event, but there are no Captain America issues that cover it, so… possibly not much? I assume he punches things. 
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On a completely unrelated side-note (but also kind of important because I can’t stop thinking about it):
The second I mentioned Sentry, my brain—filthy thing that it is—flashed me straight back to that one issue of Mighty Avengers that ran during the same timeline as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I had to cackle when I remembered Tony got turned into a girl, and the first thing he did as soon as he came to after it was over was check that all of his body parts were still there.
Like. No “is my heart okay,” no “do I still have functioning lungs,” just straight to “do I still have my Stark Industries, patent-pending, nanotech-augmented dick.” Iconic. (I’m kidding about it being augmented, btw—that man has big dick energy, we all know it.)
And no, I am not recapping Mighty Avengers fully here, unless I have to. Because if I do that, I’d have to go back and cover New Avengers properly, and that’s no longer a recap—that’s me writing a wiki.
Just sort of assume that there are many other issues, adventures, and semi-shippy shit happening at the same time as the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. We nod, acknowledge, giggle at Tony pawing at his boy-parts in front of his new team (Bucky excluded for the moment), and, yes, move on.
Invincible Iron Man (Vol. 4) #21–28: Haunted 
In this arc, Tony is just trying to do his job, save the world, maybe cry in peace over Steve’s memory, and instead gets absolutely steamrolled by the government, by biotech horror, by Maya “Poor decision making is my thing” Hansen, and, finally, by Mandarin.
It’s important to remember that during his time as Director, Tony is doing the best he can under impossible circumstances. And by “impossible,” I mean: the government is always on his ass, Norman Osborn is also on his ass, Norman Osborn is also just... an ass, and Tony can’t stop losing people.
This lovely eight-issue arc begins with Tony getting mindfucked on his own balcony by hallucinating Steve standing there looking all blond and tragic and judgmental, which is extra delicious for Stony shippers—especially since this is a very tender hallucination moment that hurts in all the right ways. But if you’re here in winteriron goggles, Bucky is currently wearing the stars and stripes, and if Tony saw someone in that somewhat similar suit and had a flash of “Steve?”, there’s a very real chance his brain could've hiccupped and whispered “Bucky?” first.
Anyway. Real Steve is still dead at this point (ish), so hallucination Steve disappears, and Tony is left spiraling. Again.
Then he gets… mindfucked. Also again—this time by Maya, when he’s told she’s dead. Maya, in her defense, doesn’t know she’s being accidentally evil, which is kind of her brand at this point: smart-stupid. She possibly thinks she’s helping humanity but is really just aiding Mandarin who is doing Extremis experiments on kidnapped humans and superheroes in a very evil-looking lab.
Tony, upon learning all this, reacts the way anyone in his position would: by launching an actual investigation. The government, in turn, puts him on probation, and if there’s one thing this arc reinforces, it’s that no one appreciates Tony unless he’s saving the world shirtless and bleeding.
Maya eventually does discover she’s being evil, but still manages to nearly cause a full extinction-level event, since Mandarin’s very classic plan is to unleash Extremis on the world, knowing full well only a tiny percentage of people (Tony included) can survive it.
You’d figure that instead of trying to make it more difficult for him, the government would back off—but instead, Tony gets collared with a device that dampens his Extremis connection, has to use his clunky old Iron Man suit, gets blamed, blocked, and nearly blown up. Which is where it builds to a massive showdown between Tony and Mandarin that includes a lot of sci-fi body horror, Maya yelling science things too late to be helpful, Tony nearly dying, Tony mutilating his own body to rip off the collar and reconnect with Extremis (ugh, that was very ick), and Tony saving 99.9% (or something) of the planet while bleeding out.
It’s pretty epic. It’s horrifying. It’s kind of hot in a very unwell way. And yes, I recommend reading it. At the end of all this, the same government that was just about to fire him suddenly goes, “Oh wait—you’re a hero,” and lets him keep his job.
It’s, obviously, a very squished recap of what actually happens, but do you want me to write up in detail Tony having to slice off his own heel to save the world? Nah, I didn’t think so.
Bucky’s not around in these issues, but he’s wearing the suit, carrying the shield, and probably somewhere hearing the news about Tony almost dying again. Personally, I like to imagine him muttering something like “idiot” under his breath while lowkey loading a sniper rifle labeled “In case of Osborn.”
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Invincible Iron Man (Vol. 4) #29–32: With Iron Hands 
So, these four issues are technically the final arc of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. era in this run (unless you count some stuff about War Machine doing War Machine things)—even though Tony keeps clinging to the Director title like it’s an unhealthy relationship (which it is) through the beginning of the next series. Honestly, the timeline is a bit of a mess (classic Marvel), and the next run kinda starts before this one fully ends, but for all narrative purposes: this is where Invincible Iron Man Vol. 4 drops the mic. Gently. Into a crater. While on fire.
You’d think, after everything Tony’s been through—bio-horror of Extremis, Maya-related betrayal, his support system and friends dropping dead all around him, government gaslighting—they’d give him a proper send-off. But no. Then again, maybe it’s perfectly fitting that this run closes out with two separate murder plots, a mini-nuke or two, and literally everyone and their mother acting like Tony on purpose handcrafted their personal trauma in a Stark Industries lab.
The arc is about Tony winning (barely) yet another fight, but also looking like he desperately needs a nap, a decent lay (you know with whom), and five minutes where someone isn’t trying to lecture, blame, or explode him. This arc also has two villains—sorta—because, heaven forbid Tony gets a single uninterrupted crisis. Bad Guy #1 is a former friend turned nuclear hobbyist, since in Marvel, failed friendships don’t simply end in blocked numbers. Bad Guy #2 is a salty ex–S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist-slash-weapons designer who is so terminally offended by Tony’s brilliance that he hijacks a superweapon just to scream “NOTICE ME, SENPAI.”
To the shock of no one—and please tell me you are seeing the pattern here—Tony nearly dies while trying to sacrifice himself.
I could walk you through the whole plot—the plans, the explosions, the monologuing—but it’s frankly boilerplate Evil Genius 101. The real meat of this arc is in the ending, where Tony takes the win and the guilt in equal measure. Broods. Reflects. Self-flags. Stares off into the distance while flashbacking to everyone he’s ever failed and—no, this time fully dressed.
If you’re feeling MCU nostalgia, this is “I remember all of them” mood before the Russos gave that line to Bucky for drama purposes (panel included). This is OG 616 Tony Stark, kinda constipated when it comes to expressing his feelings but fully aware of every ghost he carries around in his tortured Gucci luggage.
Depending on who you ask in the 616 fandom, Tony from this era—with Civil War and all—is either a fascist, a martyr, an idiot genius with bad boundaries, or just a problematic fave with better hair than everyone else.
I say he’s a man doing his fucking best.
Yes, I’m biased. Yes, my "I Heart Tony" goggles are welded to my skull. But this run makes it very clear that Tony always believes he’s doing the right thing—or at least the best possible thing when everything is already falling apart, and the best possible thing is, okay, occasionally, a still pretty shitty choice. And unlike a lot of other superheroes who love to grandstand and sulk from rooftops, Tony actually steps up every time and doesn’t run away from hurt. And, boy, do comic book writers love to hurt him.
616 Tony is wildly flawed, emotionally repressed, and so bad at self-care it makes fanfic-level angst look tame, but he always shows up for people—whether they want his help or not. He tries, even when he knows that his past choices made it impossible for some to even say thank you. Could be why S.H.I.E.L.D.—for a hot second here—actually respects him at the end of this run. Sure, he’s a control-freak boss if there ever was one, but they don’t just tolerate Tony; they believe in him because he never asks his people to do shit he isn’t willing to do himself. And yeah, that belief is going to implode spectacularly the minute we step into the next run and Tony helps to level the whole organization, but shhh. That’s future drama.
We’ll get there.
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Okay. So we’ve been elbows-deep in Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while now, and at this point, you might be reasonably screaming: “What the hell is Bucky doing during all this, and please don’t tell me he’s off-panel polishing a gun?”
Well. I'm glad you asked.
It’s time to treat ourselves to Captain America (2004–2011) and catch up with our favorite murder-angel-turned-America’s Sweetheart boytoy.
And yes, before this gets more confusing—let me for the tenth time shout it loud and clear for those in the back: comic book series all happen at the same time, simultaneously, in parallel but out of order, written by four different caffeine-guzzling writers on a gazillion separate timelines. 
It’s a fact, no matter how sad, that it’s logical to suspect they don’t even read too much into the issues that do not relate to them directly. And while the guys who wrote Tony’s run didn’t think to include Bucky (we deserved at least one rooftop scene with heavy breathing and unresolved sexual tension), the guys who wrote Bucky’s Cap run did include Tony, because they clearly know he can’t resist orbiting drama that isn’t his.
Quick refresher: this picks up right after Bucky officially steps into the Captain America role, courtesy of Tony, who is secretly funding and outfitting him like it’s his side hustle. Of course, Tony lies about all this to his government bosses because honesty is not for people who are just after meeting the love of their life.
At this point, Bucky’s already thrown a few punches in the suit, decided he’s definitely not Steve, and fully committed to his own personal combat aesthetic: gun in one hand, shield in the other, a lot of fucks suddently left to give. This man is perfect, and his main bad guy to deal with is Red Skull who is lurking in the background like a racist cockroach. 
Sharon is still around (we love her), but girl is having a time. She’s pregnant with Steve’s baby, which is already a lot, was the one to kill him (oh, honey, I know brainwashing ain’t fun), and she’s also currently being mindfucked by Red Skull, which is somehow the least of her problems. Last we saw her, she faceplanted over a mysterious sci-fi tube in an evil lair she’s currently hanging out in, inside said tube finding someone who looks suspiciously like her dead baby daddy.
Captain America (Vol. 5) #37–#42: The Death of Captain America Act 3: The Man Who Bought America
This arc is super packed. Not plot-wise (meh), but emotionally, sexually, and with more sweaty men in tight costumes than a single arc should be legally allowed to contain, and this is me saying it.
Things get rolling with Tony trying to explain to Sam (Falcon) that his whole “I gave Bucky a shield, lied to my bosses, and started secretly outfitting him like a blushing sugar daddy” thing isn’t what it looks like. 
Sam’s not buying it, and neither are we, because let’s be honest: this smells strongly of love at first sight. That shield was not handed off platonically, okay? You don’t break protocol for just any guy with cheekbones and a murder record, and nobody can convince me otherwise. You can, of course, try, but when was the last time you won an argument on the internet?
Right.
Anyhow, Sam, who is hanging out with both unregistered heroes and Tony because he’s a good guy like that, is very unofficially—but also very emotionally—asked to “keep an eye” on Bucky. Aw. Again, that’s either babysitting, low-key stalking on Tony’s part, or the 616 equivalent of “he needs someone who isn’t me to make sure he eats.”
As for the actual plot, yeah, yeah, evil guys are trying to install their own president via independent candidate blah blah political corruption blah, but who the fuck cares when the shippy content is this loaded? 
Such as: Clint shows up at Bucky’s place while Bucky’s sweaty and angsty (arrrr), and they proceed to have a feelings-heavy pow-wow about what it means to wear the suit and be Cap and carry that legacy and—yeah. Winterhawk is practically canon-adjacent, tbh, and the sparks are flyyyying as Clint and Bucky have their first interaction in this timeline.
This is where we pivot to Sharon, who’s still being held hostage in Red Skull’s lair of awful and finally stumbles into a tube containing... someone who looks a hell of a lot like Steve. But… sadly not Steve. Clone Steve, since this collective trauma lasagna clearly needed more layers. So, back in evil plot town, the bad guys are still pushing their off-brand evil president, but now with a combo pack of cloned Steve they’re trying to pass off as Captain America. If you’re a little confused, we’re in this together. Let’s just assume the bad guys think this is a cool, normal, stable plan.
Some things do progress, such as: Bucky going head-to-head with evil Clone-Steve in a mutual homoerotic recognition; Sharon getting into a bit of a fight with Red Skull’s demented daughter Sin (who Bucky fucked up a few issues back); and Sam saving Bucky from falling to his death (allegedly—Bucky probably had a backup plan, but sure, let’s give Sam his moment). Bucky and Sam then set off on a shady-motel road trip to track down the clone, who sorta escapes.
I am going to repeat this again:
Sam. Bucky. Bucky and Sam. Go on a road trip that includes very shady motels, and while we are not explicitly told they’re sharing a bed, I only see one, and this was giving off so many gay vibes that Marvel editorial immediately had to send in Nat to join them before folks got the wrong idea.
On a more serious note, by the end of this arc, Sharon finally gets saved by the good guys, but loses the baby she also now doesn’t remember ever being pregnant with, which is heartbreaking. She also gets kinda fired for it, and I am not sure I am with Tony on how he handled that particular HR dispute. Sin is to blame for the baby loss, which was sorta easy to see coming and gutting to read about, and I assume was added in so we have one more reason to hate her annoying AF character. 
Bucky, of course, performs like an absolute beast under pressure, wins hearts and minds, and everyone stops side-eyeing the New Cap—though he’s still technically illegally running around as far as Tony’s official stance is concerned.
And the end of this arc—because Marvel giveth and Marvel taketh away—has Bucky celebrate by starting a cozy little hetero-flavored romance with Natasha, which I personally choose to ignore in favor of yelling “winteriron supremacy” all over Tumblr when I’m not busy yelling about winterspider, starker, or, occasionally, winterhawk. 
And while I think Anthony Mackie is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever had the privilege to water-damage my keyboard over from excessive drooling, I am honestly blanking on what the Bucky/Sam ship is even called, which should give you all you need to know about how much I care about it. I will, however, be fair and keep my own eye for any shippy Sambucky (looked it up, are you people serious with that name?) panels.
The clone doesn’t die, btw—he’s still around and cracked crazy—but a few bad guys do get what’s coming to them. Just not the main cast. Obviously.
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Captain America (Vol. 5) #43–#48: Time’s Arrow Arc & Old Friends and Enemies Arc
Okay, I’m not gonna lie—by this point in the reading order, I’m running out of steam, out of chill, and possibly out of character limit. So consider this a speed recap of the two arcs that are very much worth reading, where Bucky is doing some extra brooding, Natasha is being very bendy and helpful, and I am rapidly losing patience because Secret Invasion is coming and so is the Tony-deletes-his-brain moment we’ve all been thirstily waiting for.
But first, here’s what matters for these two arcs—which really should’ve just been one, because they both deal with the same issue, technically. The big mood for this stretch of time is: Bucky has trauma (shocking), Nat has abs (glorious), and Bucky is having some trouble sleeping. Which is unfortunate for him but also possibly unfortunate for all Bucky/Nat shippers, because instead of having healthy sex with his extremely attractive girlfriend or at least cuddling her in bed, Bucky chooses to brood and monologue about the ghosts of his past. I mean…
These arcs are basically the closest thing we get in comics to the Bucky vibes from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier show, minus Sam, who is just... not here. What we do get initially is Bucky staring into the distance, whispering “I remember them all,” and quite possibly in this timeline at approximately the same time Tony is doing the same dramatic whispering with a nearly identical speech/thought bubble.
Yes, yes, I know I joked about this line belonging to Tony and being given to Bucky, but here’s the actual beautiful winteriron parallel: both of them, simultaneously, are struggling with their past mistakes. Yes, Bucky’s guilt isn’t his fault. Yes, Tony’s guilt is kind of his fault. But I’m calling it: soulmate behavior and winteriron brainrot symmetry at its finest.
Now, about Bucky/Nat. I know I’m biased—deeply, unreasonably biased—but I don’t fully ship them? Like… at all? Even though I love them separately to bits? Yeah, they’re canon. Yeah, there’s chemistry. Yeah, they are still, sorta, going strong in the comic books. Yeah, she shows up in most of these arcs wearing strategically unzipped spy suits, and he’s out here looking like a beefcake with PTSD who is super into that, allegedly, but. Okay. Okay. Hear me out.
They have history, sure. Soviet conditioning, manipulation, sexy espionage nights, all that jazz. But both of them were stripped of agency for most of their lives, and now you want me to believe that makes for a solid romantic foundation?
No, Marvel. That makes for trauma buddies who should’ve stayed very emotionally intense besties without benefits. And yes, I do have a panel of Bucky below doing some next-level brooding on a motorcycle while referring to Natasha as his “best friend,” and if that’s not textbook “we should’ve just stayed friends” energy, I don’t know what is. Please don’t throw tomatoes, this is just a woman’s opinion. 
Back to plot: Bucky, Nat, and Namor (that fishy guy in charge of the oceans that I don't care about because DC got Jason Momoa to play Aquaman first) head to Asia and deal with some bad guys. That’s pretty much the whole plot aside from aforementioned brooding and too many (never enough) panels of Nat almost flashing us her behind. 
The bad guy in question is someone Bucky had encountered in his Winter Soldier days when he was like… 12 years old or something. Said bad guy is a super-genius with a world-ending virus, and he’s a bit salty since Winter Soldier may or may not have killed someone they love. The bad guy has a plan to use a body of Bucky’s old buddy Human Torch from the 50s (they had one when Bucky was with Steve in the Invaders) to unleash a deadly virus on the world (while, yes, Tony is preventing Mandarin from doing the same with Extremis—and are you seeing what I am seeing here?). 
There’s obviously more to this very generic bad guy and very generic bad guy plot, but the key takeaways are that Nat does cool flips, looks flawless, and occasionally side-eyes Bucky’s descent into angst. Bucky wins. World doesn’t end. The virus stays in the plot fridge.
The end.
TL;DR: Before Secret Invasion kicks off, Bucky’s haunted but doing well as Captain America. Nat’s hot but emotionally evasive, sorta. They flirt, fight, presumably do fuck. The whole dynamic is sexy, but mostly friendship-coded with a side of spy kink, and I won’t be convinced otherwise. Bucky clearly wants someone to say, “You’re enough as you are,” and I would like a word with whoever is in charge of making these decisions about why that someone couldn’t be Tony.
Anyway.
That’s it. That’s the recap. Nice arcs. Great art. Solid Bucky development. You should read it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s finally time for Secret Invasion: proper trauma porn, and Tony fucking up so bad he has to resort to turning his entire brain into downloadable content.
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How do Marvel Events actually work?
Alright. Quick but necessary explanation I probably should’ve done in Part 1. Because if you’ve ever opened the Marvel Unlimited app (recommended), tried to “just read Civil War,” and suddenly found yourself 26 tabs deep in something called Front Line, you’ve already been here. Welcome to hell. We have tie-ins.
So how do Marvel events work? Well. Every once in a while, Marvel goes, “You know what would be great? Making every superhero’s life miserable at the exact same time.” That’s an event.
Here’s the basic structure: Main Event Run — usually around 5–10 issues, sometimes more. This is the “core” storyline. Think:
Civil War (2006) #1–7
Secret Invasion (2008) #1–8
Fear Itself (2011) #1–7
You can also think of Infinity War—that was an event in the MCU. Everyone gets wrecked, regardless of how well their franchise is doing. Sure, they called it a “phase” or whatever, but an event is where the big bad stuff happens to everyone and overlaps other plotlines: alien invasions, political fallout, exploding cities, Steve dramatically dying (again), Tony spiraling (again), Peter being stuck in the middle (also again), etc.
And you probably sorta get this already, but tie-ins to events specifically are where Marvel interrupts your regularly scheduled programming to say:
“Hi, we know you were enjoying Spider-Man’s personal arc, but now we’re hijacking it to show you what he was doing during this big crossover event. You will be very confused as to what the fuck is going on unless you suddenly subscribe to about a dozen other runs you never had any desire to pay for before. You’re welcome.”
Every major character, side character, and pigeon that’s ever been near a superhero gets a tie-in. Some tie-ins slap (Iron Man, Captain America), some are emotionally devastating (Front Line), some are hot garbage. But they’re all technically canon.
So when I say Secret Invasion had about 98 issues related to it (I counted once, while scrolling), I mean: the main run, a bunch of spin-offs and all those pesky tie-ins.
Am I a well-adjusted person who read all of these once like a sane casual reader? No. I read them three times:
Once for fun, because I love comic books and already finished my list of 100 classic books to read before I die, so everyone can fuck off with it not being an adult hobby (do you know how expensive it is to collect runs that completed decades ago?). Second time a few months ago for a few fic paragraphs, to make sure I got the canon right. And third time for this recap, which is less of a recap now and more like 60% my weak analysis of trauma (and repeating the words trauma, again, and hot too many times), and 40% my unhinged shipping headcanons.
I never claimed sanity. I do, however, claim to have a comic book collection, three fireproof longboxes, and a boarding technique that would make your LCS weep tears of pride—just for this event alone and the event-adjacent other runs. But that’s my cross to bear, I digress. Yes, if this amount of space for only 98 issues is confusing, well… I can’t possibly slot, say, New Avengers into my event without, like… having the whole New Avengers run. So there’s that.
I am not actually going to cover all tie-ins, just what I think is somewhat relevant to Tony and Bucky, for once.
Avengers Groups: Explained Poorly but Accurately Enough, I Hope
Okay, now that you do suspect I’m a bit crazy, let’s clear something up before Marvel gaslights you into thinking there’s only one “Avengers” team in comic books. Here’s the cheat sheet for this specific stretch of time:
Mighty Avengers
The Clean-Cut Government-Approved Avenger Experience led by our professional mess, Tony.
Includes: Carol Danvers, Ares, Wonder Man, Sentry, and others whose names I keep forgetting because they never seem to be around when Tony is having a breakdown and needs a hug.
New Avengers
The Underdog, Off-the-Grid, “We Don’t Follow Your Rules” Vibes Team—essentially Steve’s resistance crew.
Led by: Luke Cage, and occasionally (they come and go), featuring Spider-Man, Wolverine, Jessica Jones, and Doctor Strange. Clint’s around—I'll tell you about him banging Wanda in a second (whoops, let it slip too early).
Basically, they’re the scrappy, emotionally exhausted, chaotic little brother of the Avengers world. And yes, for those who’ve seen Thunderbolts, I just need Marvel to call Sam’s team the Mighty Avengers and my life will be complete.
There’s actually a new New Avengers run planned? Bucky’s on the cover. Arrrr. I can’t wait.
So… let’s assume that just before Secret Invasion, Tony is running S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Mighty Avengers, and Bucky is Captain America and mostly aligned with New Avengers vibes—though he’s not technically with them where we left him before Secret Invasion and is mostly doing his own thing as Cap while also doing Nat, who works for Tony. Neither team seems to know jack shit about what the other one’s doing 90% of the time, though Tony does spend a lot of time trying to talk his pals on the other side into giving up already and coming back to him.
It does involve the New Avengers sitting very quietly inside Strange’s magicked-to-look-like-crap mansion and pretending they are not home while Tony is standing outside with a small army, scratching on the door like a sad rejected puppy and asking for Peter to come out. I am not kidding.
Back to more important things: it is now canon in my brain (and it was planted there by the evil mastermind known as @massivespacewren) that during this exact post–Civil War, pre–Fear Itself period, Tony and Bucky were absolutely having a secret relationship. Like, think about it: Tony helps him, even though they’re on opposite sides / they’re both grieving Steve / they’re both emotionally compromised on the account of feeling too much guilt, weaponized hot, and need someone on their side privately who just wants them for them / neither of their respective teams knows where they’re going at night or why they keep showing up with mysterious bruises and better moods (Ugh… fine, this is pure headcanon, whatever.)
Still. Tell me that’s not peak forbidden romance setup. Tell me that’s not operationally inconvenient, emotionally catastrophic, and deeply sexy. You can’t. You won’t. Right? 
Anyway… now that you understand how events work (not that you didn’t before, after I alluded to this about 20 times), that Marvel dabbled in money-grabbing before Disney, and how the Avengers are more of a rotating trainwreck than a team, you’re ready to tackle Secret Invasion. Good for you. Keep reading. You know you want to.
Secret Invasion Event
When I didn’t say but very much implied that tie-ins can joyfully fuck themselves with a chainsaw, I meant it. I wasn’t exaggerating—and yes, I meant it with the full force of a person who has willingly, repeatedly, and stupidly read every tie-in to Secret Invasion, not once, not twice, but three times. That’s… not dedication so much as a personal obsession I’ve accepted. I’m not putting you through that insanity. Instead, I’m giving you a bite-sized recap of how it kicks off and what you actually need to know.
Well—bite-sized by my standards, and if you want to know more, just… read comic books or something.
So, let’s begin, like I always do, with someone emotionally repressed and traumatized making it everyone else’s problem.
Clint comes back from the dead.
This was pre–Civil War business (long story, Wanda killed him) but, as I’ve repeatedly pointed out, nobody commits to permanently dying in comic books. So, here he is, very much alive again.
After checking in on the emotional wreckage of his friends, Clint finds Tony, chats briefly about the concept of being Captain America, politely declines, and then goes off to find Wanda. To clarify, this happens just before Tony chokes on Bucky’s super-thighs and slaps that shield on him.
Now, what Wanda’s up to is happening in a completely unrelated comic I didn't read, because, contrary to what it looks like, I do actually have a personal life, the cutest dog to ever dog and full-time job. But yes, Clint finds her while Tony and Bucky are sadly not banging, bangs her, does not get the closure he’s looking for (since he’s still very much in love with his presumed-dead wife), pops up in Captain America to say hi to Bucky, considers falling in love with him on the spot and moving on just for him, but changes his mind (postpones), and decides to reinvent himself instead.
While Clint was dead for, like, five minutes in comic book years, a spunky gal stole his Hawkeye brand, and Clint’s a giver, so he lets her keep it instead of asking for his shit back. He’s a bit upset with Tony, just like everyone else, even though he missed entire Civil War and has no fucking leg to stand on, so he heads off to Asia with the New Avengers (Luke Cage, Peter, Spider-Woman, et al.), wearing a mask, wielding a sword, and being unnecessarily sexy about it as Ronin.
While in Asia, they fight Elektra, they kill Elektra, and then her body turns into what I can only describe as a very unattractive green alien lizard-zombie thing. Not even the weirdest thing that’s happened in 616, but there’s usually a bit more lead-up when a popular (ish) character like Elektra dies and is then revealed to be an alien. So this is the moment the New Avengers take a collective shaky breath and go, “What the actual fuck?”
That’s when the event kicks off.
Spider-Woman (whose arc in 616 is wildly underappreciated, btw) promptly fucks off with the Skrull-Elektra corpse, finds Tony back in his bedroom in New York (not for a sexy, slightly complicated Avengers hookup… this time) but to drop the suspicious-looking dead lady in Elektra’s clothes on his floor and ask, him being Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the guy allegedly in charge of Avengers with a big, government-approved A, what exactly he plans to do about it.
I am not a mind reader, and while Tony—who, at this point, has been holding his career together with sheer delusion and willpower, who does not need this job, who is increasingly unsure whether the clout was worth the collapse of every meaningful relationship in his life—gets out of bed, I can only hope he at least starts to wonder if he should’ve opened a winery in Malibu instead of becoming America’s scapegoat-in-chief.
But, yk, he does get involved. Of course. 
Which brings us to…
Who the hell are Skrull and what their deal is?
Green. Shapeshifting. Space assholes. That’s the short version.
The longer one is that they are a race of green-skinned, pointy-eared alien shapeshifters from a planet called Skrullos (come on, Marvel, you can do better than that). They’ve been around in comics since the 1960s, which means they’ve had decades to cause a bunch of bullshit.
They can look like anyone, down to DNA-deep impersonation. I mean, it’s not the shittiest power. You want to be Tony? Cool, now you are. You want to be Peter and perfectly mimic his resting trauma face and bubble-butt? Sure, go for it. The Skrulls started out as just one of many alien races Marvel cooked up to make the Avengers’ lives harder, but then they got kinda interesting and actually got good plotlines. Their history is unclear on some points and clearer on others, but basically for the purposes of this event:
The Skrulls once had an empire.
Then their shit got blown up.
Then they got very religious and very desperate.
Then they said, “Hey, let’s infiltrate Earth by pretending to be their heroes and sow paranoia even though… we could probably just invade.”
Which… I mean, it is still a much better plan than to keep cloning superheroes for plot reasons (cough, Thor, cough, Steve). 
And Skrull are not actually always evil by default, but Secret Invasion makes sure you think they are. If someone was a crazy-obsessed lore-hungry lunatic, one might know by now that there are good Skrulls, bad Skrulls, sexy Skrulls (hi, Teddy), and just deeply tired Skrulls who don’t want to shapeshift into your dad anymore and would rather go back to pretending to be cats in Brooklyn.
But in this specific arc they’re mostly fanatical religious terrorists with a God Complex and a master plan called “He Loves You” (the he is God, or possibly Reed Richards who they used for evil purposes, depending on how cracked your interpretation is). So yeah. They infiltrate Earth. They replace a bunch of heroes and hero-adjacent individuals—some A-list, some Z-tier (RIP whoever was pretending to be Dum Dum Dugan), and sit quietly in the background for years, waiting to strike.
In addition to their normal shape-shiffting thing they’ve got going on for them, in Secret Invasion, they’ve upgraded. They’re not just Skrulls anymore—they’re Super-Skrulls? Which somehow means they have composite powers of multiple heroes. Essentially, imagine fighting a guy who’s Spider-Man, Wolverine, Cyclops, and has Carol Danvers’ energy blasts. Now imagine there’s 20 of them. Now imagine Tony—poor, trying so hard, nobody loves him anymore Tony—emotionally compromised and under pressure, trying to tell who’s real and who’s a lizard in Steve Rogers’ pants (who, duh, is still dead).
I personally both loved and hated this event, because literally anyone could be a Skrull. That sexy panel of Natasha? Could be Skrull. That dramatic moment where Sue Storm leaves Reed in Civil War and tells him about an oily fish dinner? Actually is? That villain who suddenly got a redemption arc? Guess what. Essentially, the main reason not to love this event is that if you care about canon and character development, especially given the clusterfuck that was Civil War… well, fuck you, your favorite character might not even be the real person. So, the basic wisdom of this event, as it stands is: trust no bitch, she might be Skrull.
Main Secret Invasion Event
While we’re talking about Secret Invasion—because Tony deleting his entire brain (god, I hate that phrase too) is a direct consequence of what goes down during this event—you are not going to get a lot out of me (again, by my standards). 
Unlike Civil War, which I lovingly dissected like it was a frog in a high school lab, I’m not as emotionally invested in giving you the full play-by-play for everyone involved. So here’s me speed-running through most of it until we hit the juicy Bucky content, because, let’s be honest, that’s why we’re all here anyway.
The main event has 8 issues. Issue #1 opens strong with Tony’s meltdown arc, Season 87, things kicking off in the Savage Land. You might remember that place from that one amazing ’90s X-Men cartoon with the dinosaurs and inexplicably shirtless Charles Xavier. This is where a Skrull ship lands, so, both the New Avengers and Mighty Avengers decide to crash the party.
And just a quick side note while we’re at it: while this group of unrealistically hot people is off playing jungle lizard whodunnit, Skrulls are already running amok around the globe too. People are turning mid-sentence, Tony’s tech is getting absolutely wrecked by alien malware, S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised, satellites are offline, and somewhere there’s probably a Skrull that was pretending to be you, stopping drawing hearts on the poster of Sebastian Stan and getting to work.
Both Avenger squads show up in the Savage Land with maximum distrust, immediately run into each other like exes in the same shop aisle, both thinking they totally had the right to be there first, some yelling happens, insults are exchanged, and everyone is kinda sweaty until the Skrull ship dramatically opens and spits out a lot of heroes.
Including Steve, which is not cool, Marvel. And Peter, who is already there, making the whole situation extremely awkward and extra uncool. No one knows who’s real, everyone is sus, the vibe is mostly paranoia, and Clint has a full-on oh no my dead wife is alive but what about Bucky moment when Bobbi Morse steps out looking sexy but possibly lizard-coded. It’s emotional. It’s also probably a Skrull.
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Issue #2 is technically not filler, but it sure does feel like everyone in the Savage Land just woke up, had a group panic attack, and decided violence was the best love language. We’re deep in jungle fever now—with everyone, yes, sweaty, pissed, and staring down their dead friends in the world’s worst family reunion. Like I said, the Skrull ship has popped like a horrifying piñata full of imposters. Some of them look like old-school Avengers, some are presumed-dead exes, and others are “please God no” duplicates of people who are already standing there. And they all think they are the real deal. Spider-Man vs Spider-Man standoff freaked me out, and is literally the only thing that could make his life worse than it already was. (Besides, you know, One More Day. But we don’t talk about that anymore.)
Teams split into smaller groups to punch each other because you can’t keep stuffing 50 people into a single panel, and paranoia hits a ten. Outside the Savage Land, the rest of the world is still watching S.H.I.E.L.D. crumble, big scary spaceships land and the general question floating about is: “Are we about to get bent over by our new scaly overlords?”
Issue #3 is gutting. It’s trust no bitch, take 3—but now with the addition of not trusting your butler. The issue itself is also a banger. I love it. Peak chaos.
So. Everything’s blowing up. S.H.I.E.L.D. is fully compromised, strategic facilities around the globe are detonating like it’s clearance week at Doomsday Depot, no one knows what the fuck is happening, including the reader who is now losing track of who is alien and who is not, refusing to believe, and the only consistent thing is that literally everyone is accusing each other of being lizards.
Like—Maria gets called out for possibly being a Skrull purely because she’s competent, organized, and doesn’t flirt with Tony. Which, in 616 logic, is apparently suspicious behavior. She’s also a robot who gets very much beheaded. Long story, all good there. But the biggest betrayal of all is Jarvis. My sweet, soft-spoken, murder-capable butler is also a Skrull. The betrayal cuts deep, and this is why we can’t have nice things.
Tony, for the moment, doesn’t know he needs to start looking for another British emotional support blanket, and is hiding in a cave in Savage Lands. No, really. Tony, billionaire genius futurist, is once again dying in a dinosaur-infested jungle cave. He has no Wi-Fi, his Extremis is crashing harder than his social standing post–Civil War, and his fancy suit might as well be made of wet cardboard. Then—just to add insult to internal bleeding—Spider-Woman walks in. You’d think: “Oh, cool, someone here to help and finally give him a hug.” No. Absolutely not.
She slinks in all sultry and suspicious, looks him dead in the eyes, and says something that sounds awfully similar to: “Hi babe. You’re one of us. Surprise! Congrats! You’ve done so well! Mommy Skrull is proud.” The Skrull Queen claiming that Tony—the man who already hated himself more than the public does—is the greatest Skrull weapon of all time is just…
You know what? For a second there, it makes sense, and would explain a bunch of things and his recent fuck-ups. But no… they just let Tony be Tony, that’s all. Which is somehow worse. Give him enough rope, a registration act, and control over national defense systems, and boom: StarkTech in everything and the Skrulls are waltzing in—all thanks to the damaged but still very lovable unintentional war crime with facial hair I don’t approve of in these runs. 
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Issue #4 is somehow both eventful as hell and weirdly filler-adjacent, in that a bunch of important shit happens, but also half of it is setup for the finale and the other half is just everyone still being sweaty and confused. Tony is still not enjoying his caving experience, looking like he’s just lost a three-way fight between a Skrull, his nervous system, and the concept of self-worth. Thankfully, Nat kicks in cave’s non-existing door, with guns blazing and hair immaculate, delivering the closest thing Tony gets to aftercare in, like, a decade of comic books. She scares the Skrull Queen away, sees Tony mid-breakdown, and is like, “Jesus Christ, you look like shit.” Then she shoots him up with adrenaline, because she’s awesome like that.
Back on the mainland, Nick Fury finally crawls out of his hidey-hole, just after finishing binge-watching all of Netflix and is now ready to kick some things. He’s got a new crew, a trench coat, and approximately zero time for anyone’s bullshit. Thor shows up too, back from the dead, officially. Not a clone. Not a Skrull. I don’t actually remember why, but I assume it happened in his comic book. The point is, the big blond thunder daddy is back and is descending from the sky to say, “Alright, who the fuck broke Midgard?”
I don’t know if Bucky found out about Skrull on TV or opened his door in New York to find a Skrull on his doorstep trying to sell him girl scout cookies, but he’s joining the fight too and doesn’t currently know how much trouble Tony is in. 
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Issue #5 is… kinda skippable. It's the narrative equivalent of holding your breath and hoping nobody asks if you’re a Skrull. The Skrulls decide it's time to go full reality TV and broadcast a heartfelt global message starring Tony, a few random politicians (lol, "trusted officials"—Marvel, be serious), and a touch of “we come in peace” bullshit. Classic intergalactic gaslighting, now with better production value. Shockingly, some civilians buy it and start chanting “Take us!”—which is maybe kink, maybe cowardice, but definitely not the way to be saved.
Issue #6 has Thor, Tony, and Bucky-Cap gracing the cover, which is the stuff of dreams for me, honestly. Thor and Bucky share a weirdly intimate, testosterone-heavy moment where Thor’s like “Who the hell are you?” and Bucky’s like “America’s rebound, nice to meet you.” Meanwhile, Tony is still out here having a crisis inside a crisis, his Extremis all but useless, but also gearing up to save the world while nearly dead again. For the love of God, someone hug this man already. Or at least offer him a sandwich and tell him he’s doing okay.
The rest of the issue is just Marvel flexing every team-up they’ve got. New Avengers, Mighty Avengers, Young Avengers, probably someone's cousin from the West Coast Avengers—all yeeted onto a battlefield in New York. The Skrulls are out here led by Queen Veranke, who is still doing her sexy Spider-Woman cosplay, and the issue ends with the general vibe of it’s everybody-vs-everybody-else-but-green and “Avengers Assemble!” energy. It’s very symbolic post-Civil War, it is. I just wish they didn’t touch Jarvis, that was a low blow.
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Issue #7 is 90% punching, 10% emotional damage, and 100% shipping fuel if you’re feral enough (hi, it’s me). The big battle’s in full swing now, and we finally get a panel with Tony, Bucky, and Peter all in the same frame—which, if you know me at all, is basically my OT3 doing a full-body naked Eiffel Tower in my brain. We eat.
Tony is grumbling that his suit’s duct tape, since Extremis is toast. He mentions it while punching bad guys, and then Bucky—who is surprisingly tender when he wants to be—looks at him and goes: “Go fix yourself. This isn’t the place for—damn!”
Now.
I’m not usually the type to hallucinate ships out of nothing (bold lie, moving on), and I’m sure someone out there will claim “He just meant Tony was complaining and Bucky just needed him in top shape to fight,” but no. No. Because this isn’t just a professional concern. This is “I’m trying really hard not to say ‘baby’ in front of the Avengers.”
There’s a pause. A cut-off word. That’s comic book language for feelings, people. He might as well have whispered, “Get to safety, love, I’ll hold them off,” and slapped Peter on the ass just to make Tony jealous.
Panel included. Because I’m a giver too. You’re welcome.
While you rejoice and want me to shut up already to scroll to that panel, we cut to Jessica Jones, who has been hanging around for a while like a relatable, exhausted mom trying to finish one (1) cup of coffee before a new level of shit hits the fan. She’s mostly been off-panel burping the cutest baby in the Marvel universe, which she made with Luke Cage, obviously. Power couple. Literally. But now, while sipping her juice and watching the Skrullpocalypse unfold on basic-ass cable, she clocks her man Luke out there getting his ass handed to him and goes, “Yeah, no.”
She panics. She tears up. And in the ultimate I’m-a-bad-bitch-and-a-bad-mom-sometimes-too move, she grabs her jacket, tosses the infant at Jarvis, and fucks off to join the battle. Yes. You read that correctly. She leaves the actual, literal Avengers baby—the Marvel equivalent of America’s Next Hope—with Jarvis, who, friendly reminder, is currently a Skrull, which we know and are crying about.
So, good issue. While Jessica is off joining her man in battle, Bucky is here being a supportive, leather-clad husband, telling Tony to “go fix yourself” while casually sticking around to bodyguard Peter—the traumatized child they co-parent via mutually unresolved guilt or, like, do other unspeakably awesome things to, since he’s—I am tired of saying this to everyone—not underage in 616 (dude was married) and, since it’s about time you all quit it, is also not underage in the MCU anymore. Starker, winterspider, and winterironspider for life, every ship is valid. I give you SamBucky, Stony and Stucky in equal measures, give me that.
So let’s break that down:
Jessica says, “I see my man suffering—I’m going in.” Bucky sees his man suffering—says, “I’ll take care of our kid while you go put some make-up on, darlin’.” Jarvis is in the kitchen being like, “Would now be a bad time to reveal I’m not actually me?” The symmetry is gorgeous. The emotional neglect is peak Marvel. And the shippy content is everything you want it to be.
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Issue #8 is where the event technically “wraps up,” as in, we won—but at what fucking cost? The Skrulls go down, the planet is saved, sure, whatever, congratulations Earth—but emotionally this issue breaks Tony over its knee like a cheap broomstick. The final kill shot doesn’t even come from one of our main heroes. Norman Osborn is who gets the last shot in on Queen Veranke, who is already dying anyway. And that one move—that one media-perfect, camera-ready “hero” moment—is all it takes for the world to decide he is the new face of heroism. As opposed to Tony and everyone else who busted their ass and didn’t roll in at the last minute like the criminal with greasy hair and government connections and the moral compass of Elon Musk he is. 
One last Skrull ship opens its door on the battlefield (because drama), revealing the real Dugan, real Spider-Woman, real Jarvis, and real Bobbi and some other real folk. It's supposed to be a big moment—yay, everyone who was a Skrull is now not a Skrull and are technically back, just missed the last few however long—but the only one who really gets anything good out of this is Clint, who starts making out with Bobbi immediately. That is, of course, until Bucky becomes emotionally available for some mutual pining in Hawkeye and Winter Soldier run, which I really should cover one day, ‘cause Tales of Suspense slap.
And while Jessica and Luke promptly realize that their baby has been kidnapped…
Tony. Is. Ruined.
He’s bruised. He’s exhausted. He’s so happy to see Thor again—you can literally feel the baby-hope coming off him in waves. He’s already smiling, already probably planning post-battle shawarma and a group therapy invite—and then Thor tells him to fuck off. Just, “No, you don’t get to be part of this.”
And then everyone walks away. Yup. Every hero on the battlefield, including Bucky, turns their back on Tony. Like he didn’t just risk everything (again). Like he didn’t just crawl through this entire event bleeding from the brain and still trying to fix everything.
And look—I’m not saying this is the moment that broke him, but if Tony was still on the fence about deleting his own brain before this? Yeah. This is the last straw. He’s lost his rep, lost S.H.I.E.L.D., lost the narrative, and now he’s lost his people what feels like for good.
Which leads us—seamlessly, tragically—into World’s Most Wanted and Dark Reign, which I’m going to skim past because if I don’t, this recap will hit 15k and nobody is that committed to reading my shit unless it involves actual smut. Not that I have any illusions that anyone’s still reading this except maybe Googlebot and the 2.5 mutuals who also cry about 616 Tony at 2AM, but I’m stubborn as hell and I need this finished—for me. Because I have plans. I have fics. I have so many winteriron and others ideas shoved in my notes app related to 616 I will die on this hill.
So… we keep going. Just for a few more issues and the brain deletion. But, like, we sprint, okay? 
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Invincible Iron Man (2008–2012) #8–#19.
Or, as it will be known from now until the solar death of the internet: Brain Damage Is a Love Language.
Note: The first 7 issues of this run feature Tony still as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. pre–Secret Invasion, with Issue #7 featuring both Tony and Peter on the cover—for my brand of perverts—but we’re gonna skip those, because they’re not that relevant.
So here we are, post��Secret Invasion, and boy, are things just peachy. By “peachy,” I mean Tony has been very publicly fired, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been deleted from the timeline for the foreseeable future, and Norman Osborn—yes, the former Green Goblin—is now in charge of national security. He’s renamed the operation H.A.M.M.E.R. after firing everyone else, which everyone from the MCU probably finds at least a bit confusing (the name)—since, what about Justin? Idk, nobody cares.
Tony is not coping well, sure, and he’s once again been abandoned by everyone. He’s been ousted as Director, publicly humiliated, accused of handing Earth to the Skrulls (it wasn’t entirely his fault, okay?), and now Norman “I Put the Creep in Creepypolitics” Osborn is breathing down his neck demanding the superhero registration database. You might wonder why he needs it, but Norman has an uncomfortable fixation on Spider-Man that will make Quintin Beck seem very subtle and boyfriend-material, and if Norman can’t bang Peter, he at least wants to fuck him up—or, at minimum, know his legal name.
If you’ve been paying attention, you might recall that during One More Day (gross), Peter traded his marriage and the knowledge of his secret identity to Mephisto for Aunt May’s life, like the messy Catholic masochist that he is. So now no one remembers he unmasked during Civil War, not even Tony. This is prime Starker identity-porn brainrot territory—Tony doesn’t remember Peter’s face, but there’s this haunting familiarity, this vibe, this urge to protect the mouthy little spider. Delicious. But this is not about Peter, so this is all you get on this for now. (Pause for mournful sigh from the Starker corner.)
So, this is the real start of Norman’s Dark Reign era: Tony disgraced, on the run, hated by everyone, but still hot and surprisingly functional until becomes a lot less functional but remains hot even when in a coma. We are nearly there, I know you are tired.
So while Peter is swinging around anonymously again and Norman is salivating over his IP address, Tony is quietly deciding to erase his memories from existence. Because that’s what you do when:
Your public image is in the toilet
Your tech has been compromised
You’re personally holding the most dangerous database in the world inside your brain
And literally everyone you love has left you or been brainwashed or died
As in: Tony takes one look at the hellscape that is Norman Osborn’s Dark Reign, knows he’s about to be officially hunted, and goes, “You know what might fix this? Me, but less,” and starts planning his brain deletion.
Like… is this him giving up? Is this him taking a mental health day? Is this a long-overdue vacation into clinical dissociation? I am honestly unsure—it’s a bit unclear. All I know is, he thinks wiping his brain like it’s a crusty hard drive is a good idea, and unfortunately, nobody can stop him.
Now, to be fair, Pepper and Maria both try to talk him out of it. They give him the whole “Tony, sweetie, maybe don’t” routine. But their voices of reason are quickly overridden by the even louder voice of comic book logic, which says: yes, deleting your own memories to protect the superhero registry from Norman Osborn is a totally normal decision. It’s also extremely yummy when it comes to angsty fanfiction follow-ups, so we are gonna call this a splendid move on his part, cool?
Anyway, here are some greatest hits from this extremely questionable arc:
Tony leaves Stark Industries to Pepper, but then tops it by giving her her own Iron Man suit, because apparently you can’t be CEO of SI without having a repulsor of your own.
He also bangs her goodbye. As in, “Sorry I’m about to erase my personality, wanna hook up real quick?”
Then Tony gives the only backup of his brain to Maria Hill and pretty much tells her, “Take this to the one man I trust with my entire mind.” Maybe not in those words, but sending his chance to ever wake up again to Bucky has to mean something, right? Let’s pause and feel that. Bucky. Who Tony, allegedly, met only a handful of times. Like… Maria is there. She could just hold onto the drive. But… no. Give it to Bucky. Do I even need to say more here? How are there not, like, 10000 fanfics about this?
Then, of course, Tony bangs Maria goodbye too. Which I’m honestly fine with because it’s weirdly sexy, but also a clear sign that the brain deletion is working and we’ve officially entered the “Tony regresses emotionally to horny self-destruction” portion of the arc. For further clarity, the brain deletion is not instant, hence all the random banging, not that it’s not already Tony’s brand.
To my extreme disappointment, this whole storyline is not just “Tony on the run, being clever.” I wish. It’s Tony getting increasingly dumber by the issue, Maria losing her mind trying to keep the backup safe and delivered, Pepper doing something I really couldn't be arsed mentioning, and Norman Osborn looming like an asshole he is, making his crush on Peter everyone’s problem. It all culminates with Tony finally going full potato, Norman about to kill him, and then having to back off because it’s being broadcast live on TV.
By the end of the arc, Tony doesn’t get fully dead, but does fall into a coma, Norman doesn’t get his database, Bucky is doing Bucky things and about to properly team up with New Avengers, Peter included, and that’s the big ending of the World’s Most Wanted arc which will be promptly followed by actual panels of Bucky standing over Tony’s unconscious body and resisting the urge to hold his hand. 
And that—that’s where I leave you. Also where I left you in my fanfic, since my refreshed canon knowledge and my AO3 published shit like to meet at the exact same tragic midpoint. Sorta. 
I’ll be doing some more comic reading this weekend, so expect another recap soon, my trusty Googlebot. Later.
P.S. Yes, I’m including the panel of Tony banging Maria—not just because I’m weirdly into it (I am), but because Marvel gave us a full visual of Tony going at it against a wall and this needs to exist on the interwebs.
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ju1c3b0xx · 1 month ago
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i’m in loveeee w ur art!!! i’d love to hear more abt ur version of jeff :D
OMG FINALLY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK MEEE!1!1!11!!!
so my Jeff is based off the original 2008 story(i think?? idk i’ve never read the other versions lol), but i added more edgy elements to it. also i’ve been into creepypasta since i was 10 so i’ve been cooking with his story since then. i’m not great at writing either, so apologies if this is inconsistent
My version takes place in 2004, Jeffrey at the time is 14 (8th grade) and Liu is 16 (10th grade).
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tw: sh, drug use, & jtk is his own tw
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The Woods family move into their new home around the middle of April in 2004.
Main story is still kinda the same; they move to a nice neighborhood, Jeff gets picked on n stuff, Liu gets arrested. Jeff goes crazy n kills his family. The difference is how i interpret Jeff and Liu plus i added a bit more to the original story. Also my silly oc is there too, i won’t mention her much while explaining my version on Jeff tho. i made her n Jeff super problematic n i don’t wanna get cancelled for writing toxic ships of teenagers lol
Jeff is a yt boy who just found out what nu metal is & made it his whole personality. Really smelly boy also, forgets to take care of his hygiene a lot of the time. He’s pretty rude to everyone including his own family bc he thinks it makes him look tuff. Because of this, he refuses to open up emotionally to anyone other than Liu. Jeff also has a problem with stealing and sneaking out of his house & school. With the stealing, it’s nothing too major. Mainly steals food from the gas station and his dad’s cigarettes.
Meanwhile Liu is kinda the golden child in my version. He’s always trying to keep Jeff out of trouble and is the only one Jeff tolerates. Liu is on the basketball team at his school and is pretty athletic. He enjoys talking to people and going out a lot. However, Jeff gets pretty upset when Liu hangs out with ppl other than him. Liu loves his brother but he gets irritated with his rude behavior at times. He tries to be stern with Jeff but Liu is wayyyyy too nice for Jeff to take him seriously.
In May of 2005; sometime after Liu gets arrested, Jeff gets super lonely at home n befriends a bunch of bleacher creatures at school who convince him into doing w33d and m3th. Jeff becomes more irrational after this newfound addiction and it goes downhill from there. His temper is more aggressive and he’s decision making skills are more irrational than before. He constantly gets into fights with his mom who tries to get him help, but eventually she gives up on him due to his constant disrespect.
This also sets a rift in the entire Woods family. Liu in jail, Jeff fighting everyone, Mrs. and Mr. Woods marriage starting to fail bc their family is falling apart.
After Jeff gets into the fight with Randy and his goons at the party, Liu is released and his parents try their best to support Jeff after he is hospitalized. And Jeff starts to see what he thinks are hallucinations of Slenderman. He starts spiraling more after the hallucinations. He gets more anxious since being hospitalized, making him think he’s going crazy after killing Randy and starting convincing himself he was in hell.
Jeff tries to reconnect with Liu while he’s at the hospital, but Liu is repulsed at the fact that Jeff had killed Randy and badly injured Randy’s friends. Jeff however thinks that Liu is repulsed at him because of his face, and this makes them distance themselves from each other.
A couple of weeks after Jeff is released from the hospital, Jeff’s mental health is deteriorating faster and he starts to sh at this point. The slenderman hallucinations also get worse as he picks up his w33d and m3th addiction. One night, he hallucinations of slenderman start telling him that he will kill Jeff’s entire family and the only way to prevent it is if Jeff kills them first.
So with that, Jeff finally snaps and has a killing frenzy with his family. He kills his mom first, then his dad, and Liu last. Liu being more athletic than Jeff, manages to wrestle him to the ground. Liu tries to reason with Jeff, despite Jeff being completely out of it. Jeff for a second seems to calm down, and Liu pulls him into a tight hug. He however forgets to take note that Jeff never let go of the knife. While Liu hugs Jeff, Jeffrey plunges the knife deep into Liu’s back.
After his frenzy, he runs away to the forest. Slenderman ends up finding him and offers him a job as his proxy. Jeff accepts his offer, and he becomes the infamous killer known today.
Liu ends up barely surviving the attack but has witness protection placed on him, so all media that is covered on Jeff and his family, Liu appears as dead.
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Hopefully that’s not too difficult to read, writing has never been easy for me lol.
Im still working on a redesign for older Jeff and Liu, but here’s what I have so far for Jeff
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He gave himself the piercing shortly after becoming a proxy of Slenderman. Where’d he get the tools and jewelry to pierce himself? who knows, probably robbed someone or found it on the floor.
I redesigned Jeff to look more like a skeleton bc i thought it made him look cooler. I also gave him, chains and jnco jeans. I’ve been drawing him with those two specific things since i was 10 cuz why not
Liu meanwhile was hospitalized longer than Jeff was. He had to get therapy n he never fully recovered from the attack. he stopped taking care of himself for a good long while, only doing the bare minimum for himself. So imagine Liu but just a bit older n crustier lmao.
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And for anyone who cares- my oc’s name is Magnolia Cortez (Mago for short) and is 13 when the Woods family moves in next door. Mago is an only child and lives with her Mom and Papá who were both originally from Mexico. Her parents, Rosá Cortez & Louis Cortez, moved to the US shortly after Mrs. Cortez was pregnant with Mago.
She is super bubbly and clingy in the annoying pick-me way. She immediately has an interest in Jeff and tries to get close with him, despite him pushing her away constantly. Her and Liu get along pretty well. Liu see’s her as a little sister and Magnolia see’s him as an older brother.
Mago and Jeff have a pretty toxic relationship that i won’t get into detail abt, but the main thing abt my oc and Jeff is that he treats her like shit constantly but Mago normalizes it due to how much she likes him and wants to be with him. Jeff becomes somewhat neutral with her when Liu gets arrested, mainly because he’s lonely and wants attention/comfort from someone. He takes advantage of her clingynesss constantly as well. He gets high and makes her carry his zooted ass home all the time.
Mago’s parents doesn’t like Jeffrey too much bc they think he’s a bad influence, they don’t know him too well n just judge him based on his clothes.
After Jeff is hospitalized, Mago’s parents drag her away from the Wood’s family. She’s not allowed to be anywhere near them at this point. Even after Liu gets out of jail and Jeff is released from the hospital, she’s not allowed to see them. At this point Mago is scared of the Wood’s family and avoids them like the plague.
it’s not until Jeff’s frenzy that he kills her parents and tries to kill her. The neighbors hear the commotion and call the police before Jeff can kill her off. She becomes hospitalized and is put under witness protection. She’s unaware that Liu had survived too tho, police keep them separated and unaware of each other.
Magnolia is soon put into foster care and her name is Changed to Andrea Araceli Akinari. She’s adopted by a couple by the name of Nadia Ruiz Akinari and Toshiro Akinari, along with their son Javier Akinari.
She lives her life in peace up until 2009, when Jeff finds her again 😈
is it cringe? yeah, but am i free? yes unfortunately 💔 anyways here’s some doodles of my oc and Jeff
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my artstyle is pretty inconsistent n i’m trying to figure out how to draw these two specifically
anywayssss- tysm for you ask!!! i love rambling 🪳✨
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batsplat · 1 year ago
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your top 5 fave motogp races? or alternatively what races you’d show to a newbie to get them into the sport or smth
one of those things where it's painful to pick five, but at least this ask gives me the chance to hedge my bets and pick five different races for each category (most of these races will be featured in the recs lists; 27, 4+93, 46)
laguna '08: works wonders to bring both that season and the rivalry alive. delightfully visceral and vicious, there's few duels that tell you quite so much about both participants. I have lap-by-lap notes for this race. I have points tables assessing how much of a turning point it was in the season. I have read the bit in casey's autobiography about this race about a million times. how their expectations going in influenced the dynamics of the race, how the slower man won the race, what valentino was attempting to do to casey, casey's response... I could quite literally talk about this race forever
phillip island '17: idk I don't think this is objectively 'better' than the other two infamous dogfights of that era (pi '15; assen '18), but sometimes you just notice which one has the most rewatch value for you... I really like races where risk/reward calculation is a big deal, where at least one of the riders is having to actively judge how much they're willing to do to win... with the hard style of racing in this one, those calculations feel particularly present. phillip island is in such a perfect calendar spot for generating maximum drama
misano '17: maybe the quirkiest pick. marc is too good and too successful for me to ever really have been 'stressed' watching him in his prime, but bloody hell did he run me close here. something so satisfying about being so adept in wet/mixed conditions... love the spite element of this race, love the risk/reward calculations, how marc just needs to go for it in the very final lap, his dogged determination... a race where he doesn't have a massive margin over the field but just wants it so so badly that he goes for it. he's making a statement, bouncing back from a low point in the season, super compelling stuff
mugello '04: just love races that are kinda a mess! lots of twists and turns... bunch of riders fighting it out, the sete duel, the rain interruption, bunch of riders fighting it out but now on a way more slippery track... I don't know, there's just something charming about a race that has a bit of everything! of course it's also part of my beloved 2004 season, from which I could have easily included five different races (and if you're ever looking for a full season to watch, 2004 2006 and 2017 are the holy trinity - mix of title fight drama and banger races)
okay listen I'm gonna cheat here because I wrote out the word 'catalunya' and then had a crisis staring at this post. '07 I need to include because it's my favourite casey win and it's how he establishes himself as an all-round threat and is so important in the overall context of the valentino rivalry, but '09 is like... right up there with laguna as season lynchpin races and also somehow jorge has been left out from these picks... I love big momentum-switchers I love races that have so much meaning in the context of a rivalry AND season. I also love how they're connected! that valentino did the same move on casey (just not on the final lap) and had basically already rehearsed his coup de grâce two years in advance, before visualising it the week before the race... casey joking about it in the catalunya '09 presser, jorge knowing he kinda should have seen it coming, casey kinda ragging on jorge for not having seen it coming... idk!! I like this little legacy they built there together
for newbies
phillip island '23: you need to include something a little more current to give new fans a reason to watch now... phillip island races are reliably great - this one introduces you to two of the major protagonists of the current game in a way that kind tells you a lot about both of them, gives you a demonstration of one of the best types of races (the multi-rider dogfight), and it also is the most brute force way imaginable of explaining how tyres work in motogp. pedagogically pleasing! it's the kind of race new viewers will be able to enjoy in the moment, but have a lot of questions about afterwards - the sweet spot
assen '15: easily makes my top five rewatched races too, but I put it under the newbie header because again... tells you a lot! it's very likely this hypothetical newbie will have at least have SOME knowledge of who the two protagonists are and know they've fallen out, though I suppose it'd be funny to go in completely blind. obviously a great duel and a very nice introduction to the two big names plus their respective riding styles... what you really want is some late drama and a controversial finish that you can immediately have a hot take about
donington '05: we need a full wet race, not just mixed but wet wet... this one's got one hell of an attrition rate but also proper tussling between the different riders, rather than everyone just riding out on their own. it really gives you a feeling for how these kinds of races work... lot of riders wobbling around, saving near-falls, trying to get a sense of how much they can risk, riding behind each other to have somebody else test out their conditions... plus, the valentino performance kinda slaps
austria '17: got to be a marc/dovi duel in here, and this one has the clear edge not as much for the race itself but a) the novelty at the time, and b) the significance in the title fight. in dovi you've got somebody who is emerging as a threat and is providing a new flavour of challenge.... there's also that fun tension between how marc logically very much should just be happy to be there as a result of what a ducati circuit it is and he's simply supposed to be limiting the points damage... but he also really, really wants to win... actually either this or motegi 2017, almost want to change my pick. one of those two!!
brno '03: sneaking in an old race as a gateway drug, and I think this one is quite 'accessible' to the uninitiated. I considered other ones like phillip island '01 (valentino's first premier class matchpoint race, classic dogfight) or welkom '04 (first yamaha race and one of the duels) - but I think you don't need much context to get absorbed in this one. the race commentary already gives you the most important information... valentino's struggles that season, the criticisms he was facing from the italian press, how badly he wanted to win, the haircut, all of it... and then you get to see the post-race prisoner's celebrations, a flavour of the proper classic camp dramatics
slightly silly number of honourable mentions, each of which I was extremely tempted to include: motegi '10, jerez 2005, misano '19, laguna '11, jerez '10, assen '04, catalunya '04 '05 '16, mugello '05 '06, sachsenring '06, assen '04, phillip island '04, le mans 2005, qatar 2005, suzuka '01, thailand '19, austria '19, qatar '18, silverstone '19, sachsenring '10, qatar '15, mugello '16, sepang '10, assen '07 (and ones I did already kinda mention above: phillip island '15, assen '18, phillip island '01, welkom '04, motegi '17)
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lizardsfromspace · 1 month ago
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MONSTER MONDAYS #6: ATRAGON and MOTHRA VS GODZILLA
I’m watching every Godzilla and Godzilla-adjacent film, from the original to 2004’s Final Wars. This week, and yes I know it's Tuesday: we meet Manda, and Mothra fights Godzilla
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Atragon
1963 - directed by Ishirō Honda - subbed
Stories of lost continents started to take off in popularity in the latter half of the 1800s - not coincidentally, when all of the Earth had its first full pictures of itself, and when all the gaps where dragons lurked had disappeared. Some of these claims originated in sincere but ultimately disproven scientific theories, such as Lemuria, invented by esteemed zoologist Philip Sclater to explain the existence of lemurs in both Madagascar and India. Others were purely occult in nature, such as the revival of Plato's Atlantis as not a thought experiment, but as coded history to a real place.
In retrospect, the various anomalies "lost continents" sought to explain are all explained by continental drift. But they've lived on in occult circles, and that includes the continent of Mu. Mu originated in the 1800s when a mistranslated reading of a Maya text caused someone to theorize it was an alternate name for Atlantis, but in the 1920s James Churchward would popularize Mu as a lost continent in the Pacific. Mu eventually became a regularly appearing lost civilization in Japanese media: in video games, in anime, and one time it invaded the surface.
Atragon has a rapidfire start - men walking out of the water! A mysterious yet stylish agent of Mu! A taxi careening into the water past some photographers! Mu announcing plans to colonize the surface! - and then slows down. We cut to the lost continent of Mu, which is a city carved into stone with an artificial stone which is part ancient Egypt and part Walt Disney's EPCOT (the city), but after that our main glimpse of Mu is people dancing for Manda.
Manda is this movie's kaiju, and get excited: because you won't get to see Manda for at least an hour.
Also a sub called the Red Satan just goes too deep chasing the Mu and implodes.
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During that hour, our protagonists found an lost admiral on a secret island, building the super-sub Gotengo, or Atragon, depending on the version. He refuses to help them. The film draws a clear parallel between the Mu, who seek to restore their ancient empire from before their city sank, and the soldier who never stopped fighting, who plans to use the submarine to restore the pre-war Japanese Empire. He relents and agrees to help mankind; the Mu's Empress refuses, and eventually chooses to die with them instead of live without her Empire.
In the final act, we learn the Gotengo can FLY
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and the movie becomes about how it's a very cool and strong submarine that can destroy everything.
But we meet MANDA.
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Hell yeah Manda let's go
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DUEL OF THE CENTURY
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So during the first fight Manda sits there as it gets shot, and in the second fight, it strikes, then gets frozen. Manda is in the movie for less than five minutes and goes down like a chump
🐲🐲🐲
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Mothra vs. Godzilla
1964 - directed by Ishirō Honda - subbed
Godzilla is about to become a hero. Then a much sillier hero. But for the last time in a while, Godzilla is an antagonist: not just the antagonist, but presented as an almost purely destructive force, a Geiger-clicking radioactive beast buried within the Earth.
Featuring some of Eiji Tsuburaya's best effects yet, Mothra vs Godzilla is the best Godzilla movie since the original: beginning with a storm destroying a reclamation project (cut to: a local politician standing amid the wreckage insisting reporters not say it was destroyed, because it's one of the top five projects in the prefecture and it'll still be finished on schedule). Swept up after the storm: a blue-gray object. Also swept up after the storm: a giant egg.
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No sooner does a mysterious giant egg show up than it's bought by Kumayama, a businessman who plans to build a theme park around it, and who advertises that everyone come to Happy Enterprises' new Shizunoura Happy Center to see the giant egg hatch. Mothra vs. Godzilla takes place in a world of unrestricted greed; truly, there is no better summation of capitalism than the scene where a man shoots someone so he take his cabinet full of cash, while Godzilla looms, about to imminently crush them all.
The Shobijin appear, and while they don't get caught this time (though the businessman still tries to buy them), they're not able to convince anyone to bring back the egg, which holds the next Mothra. The current Mothra, in her last days, makes her pitch - her pitch is "being fucking Mothra" - and yet no one will return the egg.
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The reporters lament their lack of power - their stories don't hurt the rich, and every story just helps promote them - and then it turns out the object from earlier is radioactive. Also, it's Godzilla
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Humanity, which has failed to return the egg it decided to monetize, goes to Infant Island to plead the case for Mothra coming to help them. Infant Island is no longer a verdant lost world, but a barren rock ruined by nuclear testing; they tell Mothra that good people are dying, but that bad people deserve to live too, and that they won't stop trying to make the world a better place. Mothra is coaxed to help, but is going to die no matter what.
The rest of the movie is two amazing kaiju battles, and some striking Godzilla-blows-up-tanks moments in between.
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The egg hatches, and the larva-that-will-be-Mothra have to take down Godzilla once and for all.
This is the last full movie of dark!Godzilla before we start the switch to Godzilla fighting worse monsters, and Mothra vs. Godzilla rocks. Great effects, great action, great pacing, the right tone. Give thanks to Mothra (the only way to thank Mothra is to create a better world)
🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖
The List:
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Next Week: We meet Dogora and Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster. I should really start watching these in advance instead of literally watching them all on Monday nights huh
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End of month update - March (+ April 1st)
Hello, all! Sorry that this update is a day late, I didn't get around to posting it yesterday.
This is the end-of-month update, where I post Tumblr’s current top four films that have received the highest percentage of “yes,” “no,” and “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes.
As of today, the top four films with the highest percentage of “yes” votes are:
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Finding Nemo (2003) | Shrek (2001) | Monsters, Inc. (2001) | The Lion King (1994)
Next, the top four films with the highest percentage of “no” votes are:
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Sausage Party (2016) | Sharknado 2: The Second One (2014) | All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) | Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
This top four changed through the new additions of Sausage Party (2016) and All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), which replaced Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No! (2015) and Scarface (1983).
Finally, the top four films with the highest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes are:
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Monica and Friends: Bonds (2019) | Monsturd (2003) | Heroic Losers (2019) | Death Trance (2005)
This top four changed through the new additions of Monsturd (2003) and Death Trance (2005), which replaced Mahana (2016) and Capernaum (2018)
Currently, The Incredibles (2004) is the still only film to receive absolutely zero “haven’t heard of this” votes.
That’s it for March’s end-of-month update! Remember that you can view last month’s update by clicking here. Additionally, you can view the full ranked Letterboxd lists of movies that have come up on this blog by clicking the following links:
This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “yes” votes.
This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “no” votes.
This list is ranked from highest-to-lowest percentage of “haven’t even heard of this movie” votes.
Remember to vote on the polls that are currently running: Jane Eyre (2011) | Lady Macbeth (2016) | The Water Diviner (2014) | Thoroughbreds (2017) | Suspiria (2018) | Closely Watched Trains (1966) | Atonement (2007) | The Official Story (1985) | Fright Night (1985) | Ernest & Celestine (2012) | Central Station (1998) | The Hitcher (1986) | The Company of Wolves (1984) | Predestination (2014) | Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004) | This Is England (2006) | Crimson Peak (2015) | The Love Witch (2016) | Lost in Translation (2003) | Romeo + Juliet (1996) | Santa Claus (1959) | Tokyo Drifter (1966) | A Fistful of Dollars (1964) | Brain Damage (1988) | Society (1989) | Watership Down (1978) | Frankenhooker (1990) | Mars Attacks! (1996) | Super 8 (2011) | Goosebumps (2015) | Goncharov (1973) | The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) | The Secret of Moonacre (2008) | Coraline (2009) | The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
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marionmorse · 1 month ago
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they call me the prosecco predator
the godelo guzzler
this shit ain't nothing to me man
Fiance said something about a prenup. asked me about my fiscal assets. he didn't make it down the block when i told him about my Twisted Mortgage - it got him
these people have no sense of respect!
no officer, i was only traveling inside of the vehicle - it just happened to impact the front of that Liquor Town
smucker's goober swirl blend, it's estate bottled. call it woober
when i fell from the righteous path to one of sin, god didn't look twice
This shit ain't nothing to me man
Chortled a whole box of super triple mess moscato. the next day they say the building shifted.
what the hell is a building
risking the riesling rabies over this one, help me!
God, please help me!
when they pulled me over again, they said that my breathalyzer could pass an IQ test. i caught a fleeting glimpse of admiration in their terrified gazes
this shit ain't nothing to me man, you little water sucking hydrator, don't you look at me with those beady bitty cryable eyes
went to my boy's soccer game last night. i thought it was cute.
im slamming sixty syrah slings at seven on sunday.
are you in?
Shivers are pouring through my body
bees could pollinate my bloodstream; Vitaceae squirmin' in my core
Concord, Cabernet, zinfandel, merlot, muscat, give me sun-maid, welcher's -- what?
not grapes? You lonesomely lusting liquor lover. learn to live a little loser
they say jesus could turn water to wine. fuck!
When cthulhu rose from ancient depths and scrutinized his waves for the first time this millennium, he wept, for i drifted among them
my 2004 Chevrolet Tahoe cant handle any more! Oh, God!
this shit ain't nothing to me, man!
this pta meeting is so far high above my current level of comprehensive thought, i... oh, God! oh, no!
slamming twenty flutes just to get through the hour
something's moving deep in my chest. twenty-one.
i picked up a bible yesterday just to turn it cover-side down. my hand came back, the calcined surface spurring me to seek a miraculous spiritual moment
but heaven stayed quiet.
this shit ain't nothing to me man
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saturngalore · 2 years ago
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brandi nichols for @kashisun’s simblr office
head of records management + info below! <3
26 | pisces sun, virgo moon, aquarius rising | queer
she’s the new head manger of the records management department! although, she prefers the term archivist more (she just got her masters degree in archival studies!)
98% of the rest of the office employees has never heard of records management because it’s in the basement where hardly anyone visits
brandi doesn’t mind it because nobody really bothers her and she can wear or do whatever the hell she wants (she occasionally brings her emotional support cat with her (dulce!!!) to work and nobody minds or just haven’t noticed yet 🤫)
her favorite line to say while training interns and new employees: “this is not how you suppose to do it but this is how i do it”
due the lack of windows in the basement, she’s prefers to eat her lunch outside in the office’s gardens which other employees hardly know about
is constantly wearing her signature headphones and blasting either old or foreign music (there are definitely noisy ghosts in the basement but she claims she wears them because music is her life(!!!)…yeah right girl 🙄)
unfortunately, she’s never hears when someone visits her office and ends up always being scared to death (often screaming or jumping in fright) by the other employees who eventually do to come to visit the records management office to check out some old office files or need access to some super secret company files
likes to go thrifting for vintage clothes, spending time with her cat, discovering new restaurants and food trucks in the area, and making extremely niche historical-based zines in her free time
knows a lot about the juicy office’s secrets and past scandals and legally, she’s not supposed to tell other employees or visitors about them due to company policy
but that doesn’t stop her from occasionally telling the interns, janitors, security guards, and even her pet cat about some of them tho! (the higher ups have tried firing her but who else wants to be in that dusty and haunted ass basement?)
“have y’all heard about the former ceo’s embezzlment and fraud case back in 2004? no? well girl…”
really only goes to company potlucks and parties to people watch and to stuff her purse with all the food she can get away with without being super suspicious (the janitors have definitely noticed and don’t care).
“im leaving here with something, ya know what i mean?”
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melancholytimes · 3 months ago
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We’re off to the semi finals!!
We were coming back to the emirates for the second leg 2-0 down but we were coming back on a beautiful pitch with the fans in the stands. I’m ngl that first half almost killed me. Literally fantastic play, so many chances but they couldn’t get it together in the final third. My head was spinning. I must say the Madrid defender #23 was very good. She was playing really well for her team, body on the line stuff. Chloe Kelly was sending in cross after cross and no one could finish them. At one point Linda was able to get the ball up the pitch and daphne had to make a massive double save. She definitely kept them in the game. Then they went in for the half and i had to start begging them to score, literally talking to my tv. They come out in the second half HOT AS HELL. They immediately score. Alessia is able to crash the net to finish a ball from Chloe. Then barely 3 mins later Mariona is able to head home a cut back cross from Chloe once again. Then again like 10 mins later off of a free kick the ball bounces from Steph’s face and Alessia is able to acrobatically hook the ball into the net. Alessia had 2 opportunities for a hat trick. The first one Chloe, who would have had a hat trick of assists, sent the ball in and Alessia slid in to finish but Chloe was offside to receive the ball so var called it back FINE. The second however the ref raised the flag on Alessia. Very silly she should have had a hatty and i wanted 4 goals to give us room in the tie cos if RM scored it would be tied. There was 6 mins of extra time and Madrid really tried to push at the end but we were able to keep them out. leah, Steph and Emily did a really good job defensively as well. Emily did well to lock up linda as well.
I’m just so proud of this team. They really hurt my head abut they’re so amazing when they want to be. There were 22,517 people at the game. Which is so great that so many people went to the game on a Wednesday night. Apparently a team hasn’t overturned a 2-0 loss in a quarterfinal tie since arsenal did it in like 2004 or something. I am begging for a clinical finisher for this team though. Alessia is great but if we had another forward to finish those chances we’d have like 5-6 goals. We’re off to play Lyon. Goodness that’s going to be a super tough game because Lyon is absolutely on one this season and their forward line doesn’t waste chances. I’m still very proud of the run they’ve gone on and while I’d love to go to the final, being competitive with Lyon will be something to look forward to.
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bisupergirl · 1 year ago
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oh sorry, also are there any comics i should avoid completely because the gp recognises them as being completely ooc or just not a sensical comic for supergirl?
and i was thinking of collecting the series of graphic novels that start with supergirl vol 1 - reign of the cyborg supermen. is that a good comic run? i have no clue when it comes to kara haha.
also, one last thing i promise! what is kara's true personality? like as kara danvers but also as supergirl. do they contrast each other? is she a geek or is she still just as powerful but in different ways when she's kara not sg? if that makes sense
again im so sorry for all the questions, kara is a character that really intruiges me and i really want to know the canon version of her. (unfortunately i loved the cw version of her, no matter what any one says) but i know that's nkt exactly correct.
im so sorry if ive bothered you, and i will be eternally greatful if you manage to answer my questions. thank you so much!
YES THERE ARE. Anything you see written by either Jeph Loeb or Joe Kelly should be avoided at all costs. This includes Superman/Batman (2003) #8-13 and Supergirl (2005) #0-19. Basically anything written between the years 2004 through 2007 should be avoided like the plague. The early 2000s was truly an evil era for Kara... she was oversexualized to hell and back and really didn't have any sort of characterization beyond "sexy teenager". The only thing that I think is somewhat worth reading from those years is Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes (2004) #16-36, but even that isn't super necessary if you don't want to slog through it just for her.
Aside from that.... this is just my controversial opinion, but I REALLY dislike everything Mariko Tamaki has written for Kara. This includes Supergirl: Being Super (2017) and the Supergirl Special (2023). I've just found that she has a very boring and uninspired take on Kara... Nothing she's written gives off the vibe that she's actually read any of Kara's comics. Being Super specifically irks me because it's literally just "what if Kara... was Clark!", and that's just not remotely interesting to me... Obviously nothing she's written is on par with the truly heinous shit that Loeb and Kelly were doing with Kara, so I don't want it to seem like I'm putting them on the same level! A lot of people DO like her Supergirl comics, I'm just not one of them.
Steve Orlando's run of Supergirl (2016)—which includes Reign of the Cyborg Supermen—was written specifically to appeal to fans of the CW show, so I imagine that if you like CW Supergirl, you'll also probably like that comic. I don't necessarily want to say that you shouldn't read it (since you like CWSG), but it's not something I recommend since the way that Kara's characterized there is quite different than any other comic version of her—past or present. If you do want to read something from Supergirl (2016) I recommend Marc Andreyko's run! It's spans from #21 to #36 (although I don't suggest reading past #33) and is collected in Supergirl vol. 1: Killers of Krypton and Supergirl vol. 2: Sins of the Circle.
As for her personality:
Kara is very headstrong and stubborn—she doesn't back down from her beliefs even if it means coming into conflict with her authority figures (like Clark, her mother, her employers, etc.).
She's also incredibly compassionate and protective—even in her early days as Supergirl when humans would reject her, she wasn't directly scornful of them and she'd still go out of her way to use her powers to keep them safe.
Relating to that, she's also very empathetic—there's been multiple storylines where Kara sees herself and her experience in the person she's helping, and it inspires her to do whatever she can to help them.
She's often driven by her anger and devastation of what happened to Krypton. The fury and nearly inconsolable despair that she feels for the mass death that was caused by Krypton's destruction is such a huge driving force for everything she does.
In regards to her interests: they change pretty frequently between continuities, but Pre and Post Crisis Kara was depicted as being very artistic in a lot of different areas! Kara used to have a passion for acting: she went to drama school, starred in two films, and went on to star in a soap opera. She was also very into fashion and used to wear so many cute outfits :'). Additionally, in Post Crisis continuity, she was a painter and even contemplated joining the Art Guild on New Krypton just like her father did. Recently she hasn't been shown to be that artistic and instead has an interest in history (Kryptonian history, that is). Before Krypton's destruction she was invited to study at the Society of Historical Science, and she actually preferred history to applied science. She does have a lot of scientific understanding (both because she's apart of the House of El and because Krypton is so scientifically advanced), but I've always loved that she's shown a consistent interest in the humanities rather than science!
As a quick aside, Kara has had a couple different human identities over the years: she was Linda Lee Danvers (sometimes just referred to as Linda Danvers) during Pre Crisis continuity, and that was her most fleshed out and meaningful identity imo since it lasted for around 26 years. During Post Crisis she briefly went by Linda Lang, and then in the Rebirth continuity she'd go by Kara Danvers to match the CW show. All that to say, she really doesn't differ that much in personality when she's in her human identity than when she's Supergirl! Aside from pretending that she doesn't have powers, she's still just as incredibly headstrong and compassionate and protective when she's [insert human ID here] as she is when she's Supergirl.
Okay now I'm just going to drop a few reading guides / comic recommendations that I've made here if you're interested!
Ultimate Supergirl Reading Guide Supergirl Storyline Recommendations Pre Crisis Supergirl Recommendations
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