#there’s no ship tag for them so I guess I gotta invent one

[zukkacore]

Part 1 of J2/Porter is here! I decided to split it up since I’m close to being done but not quite. Updates should be happening frequently over the next few days for a total of 6 chapters

Ship: j2 (aka Jaceclone) / Porter

Summary: Jace swears he's breaking off things for good with Porter (for real, this time), but he still has obligations, to The Plan, to The Rat Grinders, whatever else that he can't let go. As a solution, Jace gifts the jaceclones to Porter—a way to have intermediaries to do his dirty work and be a go-between so that he no longer has to see Porter ever again. However, during their break, Porter and J2 develop an interesting relationship

Playlist rec:

Like Real People Do by Hozier

Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo

Night Shift by Lucy Dacus

I’m Your Man by Mitski

CHAPTER 1: It’s love, isn’t it?

A sort-of prequel to If you want divinity

Snippet:

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” “What?” When The Big Guy answers, he doesn’t even bother to look in J2’s direction. J2’s been following his line of sight—observing. It’s Jace. Figures. It’s always Jace.

[agapintheskin]

Okay so I'm on the outside of this issue cause I'm 1. Gay 2. Non binary and 3. I don't ship Isi with anything.

But there's stuff in this tag that bothers me so very much that I gotta speak on it. Like I get disphoric from scrolling.

1. If I see one more person calling Isi and Sascha an mlm ship I'm gonna scream (or mlm adjacent that's in a way even worse. Nb people are not "sorta male" or "sorta female" jesus what a bad take). They are not. Neither is Isi and Lou a straight ship. You're being transphobic.

2. This is not a "who's more woke with their ship" war. Both ships are very flawed in many ways. Lou being a very destructive personality that gets Isi into trouble (like the shoplifting situation and many more that came before that) and Sascha clearly being an unrequited situation with a huge power imbalance.

3. Lou is not fat and if you see her as fat idk what to tell you. She's a complete average size for a german teenager. Maybe go and reflect a bit on that. (Criticism on her character has nothing to do with her weight you weirdo.)

4. The whole "gay fetishizing by women" needs to stop. 95% of the time the people being accused of that are either not women or queer women? Yo, let me tell you something funny, queer people like to consume queer content. That's not fetishizing. Assuming people are straight is awful and when I grew up i was deep in the fucken closet and I had no idea why queer media was so interesting to me. Guess what. The people you're shitting on might be trans or nb or queer etc. Just stfu if you don't know them. It's super harmful.

4. Stop it honestly. You guys have different opinions on something but that doesn't make the other person immoral. Stop trying to one out each other, this is not a competition.

It's not our fault this season is incredibly confusing and in parts very badly written so we shouldn't have to fight over it like little children and invent non-reasons why the one side is definitely wrong. Thanks.

[mcwriting]

His Mobius

Lol y'all gonna hate me for this one but what can I say, I'm obsessed with this ship and slightly disappointed in the season finale.

Not my normal jam so sorry to those who only follow me for T. Holland content

Picks up where ep 6 leaves off. Don't read if you don't wanna get spoiled lol.

Ship: Loki vs. Mobius M. Mobius (one-sided)

Word Count: 1212

Warnings: it's sad boi hours in here y'all prepare to have your heart ripped out for a second; also spoilers

⏰

The color had drained from Loki's face as he realized what was going on when he stared at the giant statue of He Who Remains.

With the intense branching of timelines, Sylvie had kicked him into a random, newly-born universe.

He turned back to the man he knew-

No. He didn't know this man.

This was Mobius. M. Mobius, but not his Mobius. M. Mobius.

"I... I- I- I need a tempad, please," Loki begged the not-his-Mobius.

"Don't you have one? Wait- I'm sorry, who are you again? You never answered my question," not-Mobius said with growing suspicion.

He didn't know this Loki, or seem to know any Lokis at all, but he still knew to question guys who came up asking frantic questions and requesting other agents' tempads.

Loki didn't know how to answer.

For once he wanted to tell the truth, but there was no way he'd be able to explain things to this not-Mobius. He didn't have time. He needed to find his Mobius.

With a swift glance, he located not-Mobuis's tempad and with even swifter precision snatched it from the man.

"Hey wait!" he cried, but it was too late.

Loki had already punched in random numbers and opened a portal, stepping through into the unknown.

⏰

The yellow rectangle behind Loki closed as soon as he stepped through, and he knew that with all the chaos, he probably wouldn't ever be found.

As he got his bearings, Loki started to register the sights and sounds around him, along with the humid heat that made his already sweaty skin feel even stickier.

He blinked a couple times before realizing what he was looking at.

Somewhat.

He was in a rainforest.

"Midgard. This- I'm on earth," he muttered to himself, brows furrowed.

Back before the TVA, he'd spent years plotting his takeover of the planet. The Asgardian libraries had contained books filled with knowledge about earth's nature and climate systems, something he'd used to his advantage when planning where he wanted to rule from.

While he didn't know a thing about earth customs or technology, Loki could easily tell the difference between a chimpanzee and a capuchin, or explain how hibiscus flowers were great in tea.

The real question was when is he?

Loki looked at his tempad.

Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. 2015.

It made sense. Loki remembered that the country was known for its lush landscapes.

There was no telling what universe he was in. He wondered if he could find someone to fill in in the 3 years since the battle of New York, if that had even happened in this timeline.

He took a look around. The foliage was bright green, and he spotted a toucan on a nearby branch. There was the occasional scream of a howler monkey echoing through the trees.

A few feet away, just past a few trees, was a dirt path. Signs that people had walked this trail many times.

Of course, a worry popped into the back of Loki's head that claimed a hungry jaguar had paced there as it looked for a meal, trampling the grass in search of prey.

His fears were quelled, however, when he heard faint voices nearing.

He stepped behind a wide tree and watched carefully as a man in a neon shirt led a family down the trail.

Loki spotted 5 kids, who all looked between the ages of 8 and 18. Interspersed among them were 4 adults who looked to be in their 40s or 50s.

At the back of the pack walked two older men. A shorter guy with snow white hair who looked to be in his 70s, and a taller one whose hair was very much salt-and-peppered, likely in his 60s.

The brightly-clothed guide was explaining to them all of the wonderful things Costa Rica had to offer, from its diverse flora and fauna to the beaches, mountains, and rainforests.

Loki was about to pop out from the wood and ask if this family could explain what the avengers were up to, or if they even existed at all here. He knew he would look ridiculous with his torn up TVA clothes but didn't care.

Finding Mobius was more important.

Before he could call out a greeting, he stopped dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

That voice.

He knew that voice anywhere.

The shorter old guy had cut in to make a joke to his family.

"I need to know where to get a jet ski around here."

Mobius.

That was him, but what was he doing here?

Loki felt weird seeing what it would have looked like for his Mobius to live on earth up to this point, assuming that the TVA variants of him had been plucked from the mid-1990s.

"Daaaad," one of the middle aged women groaned.

He has a daughter. Are those his grandchildren?

"You know we brought you on vacation to get you away from your jet ski, right dad?" another of the middle-agers said, a man who looked to be the youngest in his generation group.

A son as well?

"I'll have you know that the jet ski was the greatest invention of our time, of all history, even!" old-Mobius explained light-heartedly.

The taller man next to him placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we can manage a week without, my dear."

Loki gasped.

That was him speaking to old-Mobius. Well, not him, but an old version of him.

It didn't make sense.

Loki was well over 1000 years old. An Asgardian diety. A jotun.

He wouldn't just age like that. Not unless he sacrificed something to do so.

Loki couldn't help but notice, though, that while old-Loki's face was considerably wrinklier than his own, the man he looked at was void of worry lines around his eyes and forehead.

He looked genuinely happy.

Loki shifted as best he could to stay hidden behind the tree as he watched what played out ahead of him.

"Oh, alright, alright. I guess I can manage going without ole Lightning for the week if it means I've got y'all to entertain me. But just know that I'm taking everyone out on the lake as soon as we get back to Texas."

Old-Mobius, or whatever his midgardian name really was, smiled at his old-Loki, placing an hand over his lower back.

"I think that can be arranged," old-Loki agreed, quickly pressing a kiss to old-Mobius's temple as he wrapped an arm over the shorter man's shoulders.

Loki didn't even realize that there were tears sliding down his cheeks until the pang in his heart made him turn away from the happy family.

Because it wasn't just Mobius's family, it was his.

He didn't know how the two had found each other, how this Loki had somehow evaded godhood to live a domestic, midgardian life.

Loki couldn't stay here. He couldn't disturb and be caught by them.

He needed to find his Mobius, maybe figure out how to start a life like that.

It wouldn't be easy, jumping through the multiverse searching for that hard-headed, sarcastic, witty, crazy TVA analyst Loki had somehow fallen for, but he had to try.

So with the coast clear, he reset the tempad and stepped through another portal.

For his Mobius.

⏰

A/N: my heart is going to explode. Why did I feel the need to torture myself in this way? Anyways, I wrote it, so y'all gotta read it.

I don't make the rules.

Let me know what you thought! I love and hate this simultaneously so I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading!!

Once again, sorry for those who follow me for Tom Holland stuff but I really wanted to write this!

If you would like to be added to any of my taglists, please message or send an ask so I can verify that you've been added!

Not tagging my permanent tag list since this isn't my normal content!

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤

[duhragonball]

Bulma

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: Somewhere around 1998, Kurt Busiek took over as the writer for the Iron Man comic.   This was back when Iron Man wasn’t particularly popular and the last two attempts to reboot the guy had failed.   I read an interview in Wizard Magazine where Kurt promoted his upcoming run, and he explained the character this way: Tony Stark is a superhero, an inventor, a ladies’ man, and a billionaire.    You could have a blast writing a comic book about any one of those four things, but he’s all four.    I may have gotten those four items wrong, partly because it’s been 22 years, and partly because it was more famous when Robert Downey Junior echoed that pitch in 2012.    Take away the armor, and what is he?   A billionaire genius philanthropist.   

My point is that this is the appeal to Bulma as well.    When we first meet her, she’s an adventurer, but then we find out she invented the device that lets her locate the Dragon Balls.  And her mission is a romantic quest, so she’s like the heroine in a romance story.    Then we meet her parents, and it turns out she’s a wealthy heiress.    Well, I’m assuming Dr. Brief doesn’t plan on leaving his fortune to all of his pets, but you get the idea.  

There’s a lot of versatility to the character.   Some arcs barely make use of her, but others take full advantage.    You can plop her in almost any scenario and it works.    You want to write her at a fancy charity dinner?   She’d fit right in.   You want her teaching shop class in your high school AU?   No problem at all.   You want her to seduce a bad guy?     You want her to shoot a bad guy?    You want her to be the bad guy?   It all works.  

The main thing people dislike about Bulma is the way she treated Yamcha when they were together, and she’s kind of a jerk a lot of the time.    Fair point, but I think this adds to the character.   If she were sweet as could be and a rich, attractive polymath, she’d be downright insufferable.    Also, her attitude plays off of the compassion she shows through the series.   I can’t explain her behavior around Yamcha, but she did offer free room and board to the entire population of Namek, so I feel like that needs to be taken into consideration.

Why I don’t: In the first... hundred or so episodes of DBZ, Bulma doesn’t get a lot of chances to shine, despite all the screentime they gave her.   Early into my DBZ-watching experience, I found her to be something like a shriller version of TMNT’s April O’Neil, a sidekick whose job was to look cute and get into danger so the good guys could save her.   She really doesn’t get back into her groove until she returns to Earth, and once I saw those episodes, and her time in the original Dragon Ball, the character began to make a lot more sense.   Really, the Bulma in DBZ #1 through 108 was probably intended to demonstrate how out-of-hand the situation was.   She fixed the scouter and then it exploded.   She fixed Nappa’s spaceship and it exploded.   She fixed Kami’s spaceship and then Namek exploded.    She just couldn’t keep up with the crisis. 

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

Not exactly any one episode, but one of my favorite bits in the Red Ribbon Army Sagas is that the RRA has their own Dragon Radar, but it’s not portable, or anywhere near as precise as the one Bulma invented.    It’s Goku’s biggest advantage during that conflict, and when it breaks, there’s literally no one else who can fix it.    Those magic babies from Arale could make a new one, but I’m pretty sure they only did that by copying the design or something.   And the RRA assumes that Goku must have an entire team of scientists providing him with logistical support, and that Master Roshi must be their leader, since he’s so old.  

Also, near the end of the arc, Bulma needs to call Yamcha on the phone, but Roshi doesn’t have one, and then Turtle suggests that Bulma should just build one from scratch, since she had just finished building a robot drone a few episodes earlier.    And she’s like “Oh, yeah, I forgot I knew how to do that.”

Favorite season/movie: The Androids/Cell arc is a big deal because it has two Bulmas, and her son is in it too.   

And this is what I mean when I talk about versatility.    That Super Dragon Ball Heroes series has two Gokus and two Vegetas, and I have no idea why, because they’re exactly the same, except one pair does SSJ4 and the other does Super Saiyan Blue.   Bulma’s got more layers, so in a story like this, you can have 30-something Bulma care for an infant son and tackle logistical problems while she figures out her relationship with Vegeta, while the 50-something Bulma in the future can be this strong-yet-gentle post-apocalyptic survivalist, who hopes for a better tomorrow as she longs for her fallen friends.  

Favorite line: I’m gonna stray from the canon for a minute, because I’m having trouble coming up with something, but in DBZ Abridged, when she’s arguing with Vegeta during his training session, they just start shouting “Fuck you!” at each other.    Then she stops and says: “My room.    Ten minutes.” 

And holy shit, the delivery on that line was incredible. I knew they’d try to do something to set up their relationship, but there’s no footage to do that with, so they did it all with one line and some killer VA work.

Favorite outfit: This is a big, big wardrobe to choose from, but I’m partial to the one she wore in the Imperfect Cell Saga.

I can’t really explain the appeal, but I like this hairstyle and the clothing looks like authentic stuff you could actually buy at a store, which just makes it feel more real, even though it’s not any more detailed than her other outfits.    I’m not sure that makes any sense.    The trucker hat looks cute on her, let’s leave it there.

OTP: You know, there’s a lot of chemistry between Bulma and Yajirobe, and even though it’s kind of a rarepair, I can’t help but-- Okay, it’s her and Vegeta.   I’ll stop messing around.   

Brotp: Definitely her and Goku.  I’m imagining the set up to the DBS Broly movie going like this.

“Hey, I’m gonna invite Goku along on our trip.    That way you can fight him when you get bored.”

“Why do you keep asking him to tag along I can’t stand him.” 

“Yeah, but I like him and I paid for the resort, so I guess you gotta deal with it.” 

“...”  

Then he shows up and she sends him on some ridiculous mission to search the ocean floor for sunken treasure or something.   

Head Canon: Future Bulma does tech support in Toki Toki/Conton City, because Xenoverse is canon and the Goku Black Saga can just bugger right off because it never happened.   

She shows up from time to time to check on all the Capsule Corp tech in the city, and she drops by just to say hi to her boy, and also she has coffee with my Mary Sue OC, because Future Bulma appreciates how tough and cool my writing is.

Unpopular opinion: The Vegebul ship probably gets way too much attention.  Not that it’s a bad ship or that it doesn’t deserve the attention, but it feels like a buffet where all anyone gets is ranch dressing.    They just ignore the rest of the spread and fill an entire bowl with ranch and head back to the table to drink it.   Then they come right back and line up for another helping.  

I’m not knocking it.   I have a Vegebul calendar in my kitchen.   But it reminds me of how the “comics fandom” in the late 90′s was really just an X-Men fandom that acknowledged that other comic books hypothetically existed.

They’re gonna come after me now, aren’t they?

A wish: A lifetime supply of strawberries does sound kind of nice...

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I hope we’re done with Bulma’s Resurrection F outfit for good.   The cowboy boots, no, we’re done with that. 

5 words to best describe them: Five would never be enough.

My nickname for them: Don’t have one.   Vegeta calls her “woman”, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well if I started doing that.

[tisfan]

Indenture

Square: O1 – Mechanic for WinterIron Bingo and K5: Kink: Virgin for tisfan’s Tony Stark Bingo Title: Indenture Participants: @27dragons and @tisfan Warning: None Rating: Explicit Characters: Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Valkyrie Tags: indenture, sci-fi AU, gladiator, virgin kink, anal sex, oral sex, fingering, mechanic Summary: See the galaxy on a two year work-contract. Well, Tony Stark figures, can’t be worse than home. When he ends up on Sakaar, in the hands of a gladiatorial team, it might be his mechanical skills they’re interested in… or it might be his virginity. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921301 Word Count: 14,587 Posted for @winterironbingo and @tonystarkbingo

The holographs in the space port flickered the outgoing fares and destinations. He knew exactly how many credits he had left -- a novelty in and of itself, but not a particularly good one. If he put all his credits together, and presented it to a ship captain, he would arrive at his destination, utterly destitute. With no place to live, no contacts that he dared to impose on, and without a local sponsor. Under those circumstances, he’d be lucky if he wasn’t dead in a gutter in a week’s time.

All he wanted to do was get away.

But that didn’t mean he needed to be stupid about it.

“See the galaxy,” one holo advertised, “on an indentured ticket.”

Small print showed that he could sign himself up for a job, selected after a series of tests and aptitude exams, for free passage to any of a list of destinations. Tony thumbed down the list -- there it was. Malibu. A two year contract, food and housing and work… and he could get to Malibu with his nest egg intact.

And he had skills aplenty to offer. He glanced over his shoulder -- ridiculous; he wouldn’t be missed until tomorrow at the earliest -- and then poked at the More Information icon on the holo.

The display swirled into an infodump, and he scanned it quickly, memorizing the address and route to the testing office. At the bottom, a cheerfully bright line advised him to make his appointment now. He reached out, and then hesitated, just short of letting the holo scan his thumbprint. No. Who knew what kind of strings his father would pull to force Tony home, if he was able to find out where Tony was? He pulled a stylus from his pocket instead and summoned a keyboard, tapping in the name: Tony Edwards.

That was innocuous enough, he thought. And even if they did guess what name he was travelling under, there had to be thousands, maybe even millions of Tony Edwards in the galaxy.

He tapped the Register button, and the screen flashed his appointment time -- only an hour away. Good. Just enough time to mildly injure his thumb so they’d have to accept a secondary contract signature. He glanced down the street and then looked back at the holo, which had gone back to its colorful enticements.

He was leaving. Today.

(more below the cut)

He made it to the testing facility, an engine burn obscuring half of his thumbprint. The waiting room was packed with hopefuls, aliens and human alike. A scruffy raccoon, talking with a tiny, moving twig in a pot, was sitting next to the only empty seat in the place, and he glared at Tony with intelligent, black eyes. “Tell ya what, Groot,” he said to the potted creature, “the neighborhood’s going to hell. Look at all these humies.”

Tony didn’t have to endure the raccoon for much longer; Rocket was called back for testing in less than twenty minutes of waiting. The sapling waved at Tony over Rocket’s shoulder.

Time passed. The holos were mostly full of advertisements for different indentured positions -- cleaning and catering on passenger cruisers, healers and nurses, street cleaners on a wide variety of urban planetary systems. Tony wasn’t a bad student, even for subjects that didn’t interest him, but he hadn’t even heard of half of these systems. Outside the Core, probably.

“Edwards?”

“That’s me,” Tony said, gathering his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he stood.  

“Thank you, Mr. Edwards, if you’ll come with me, we apologize for the wait, there’s been quite a crush recently, people looking to start over in a new life, which is just what we offer, and some trade skills in the meanwhile,” the woman said. “All of our positions come with a pressure-free offer; we’re simply interested in discovering where your unique skill set will be most useful. All indenture contracts are held by a bondsman; your bondsman is your contact to People Placements. All of your basic health needs will be provided, shelter, food, medical care, adequate rest and relaxation. If you experience any problems with these necessities, your bondsman will direct you to our People Resources department and investigate your complaint. Here you are. While you wait to see your health and physical assessment coordinator, please start this test series which will question you on a number of aptitude and skill packages.”

The room was full of more holo advertisements, each cheerfully talking about his opportunities. She waved them away with a single swipe. “Hard to concentrate, isn’t it, Mr. Edwards, when they keep blinking at you. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, and waited until she’d left the room, closing the door behind her, before sitting at the small desk and waving at the test to start it.

Most of it was laughably easy. There were a few subjects that he stumbled over -- obviously, he wasn’t fit to be a cook, after the way the test had buzzed irritably after only a handful of guessed answers in that subject. But once the program had veered into technical aptitudes, Tony was answering questions faster than the terminal’s limited processors could keep up.

It was actually sort of fun, in a childish way, and Tony found himself grinning as he swiped through the questions, daring them to try to trip him up.

He wasn’t sure how long the test went on, and then there was a knock at the door. “If you’re quite finished, Mr. Edwards, your test results have been stirring up interest. I’m to escort you to get your physical right away. The planetary representative for Sakaar is expressing an interest in your skills, but the only ship for that system leaves in less than two hours.”

Sakaar was a name Tony had heard -- a destination planet for gamblers and gamers where the chief draw was a massive system of gladiatorial games. Though if they wanted him based on his test scores, obviously, he wouldn’t be working in the pits. Repairing or programming displays and scoring machines was more likely.

He could think of worse things to be doing for two years. And more importantly, it got him off the planet quickly. He picked up his bag and opened the door. “Sure, sounds fun,” he said. “Lead the way.”

“I’ll ask some basic questions as we walk, Mr. Edwards,” she said, “just formality. Speak your answers, they’ll be recorded. Are you fully immunized? Family history of heart failure? Any food or medicine allergies that you are aware of--” She continued to fire questions at him as fast as he could answer them, including “What is your sexual history, please?”

Tony nearly stumbled over his feet at that one. “Uh. None. You don’t have to worry about any diseases or anything here.”

“Thank you,” she said, finishing up. “Walk through here, lift your arms over your head. The medical scanner will give you a brief physical, and then the Bondsman from Sakaar would like to speak with you.”

The scanner buzzed, flashing lights at him and spritzing him with an odd smelling mist before spitting out a series of hard light records with his vitals and statistics on it. There was a small red dot flashing at the corner of the display. “Very good. You’re healthy and good for travel. Miss-- Miss Valkyrie,” she sighed.

“What? I’m not piloting the ship,” the woman on the far side of the room said.

“We asked you not to indulge while--”

“This is not indulging,” Valkyrie said, getting up and rolling across the room with the practiced gait of the perpetually inebriated. “I have not yet begun to defile myself. You Edwards?”

“That’s me,” Tony agreed warily. Howard’s drinking had been half -- well, maybe more like 42% -- of the reason he’d left in the first place.

“Great, great,” she said, the smell of her booze wafting into his face. “We… uh, yeah… mechanic. We need a mechanic. How are you with integrated… uh, circuits?”

Tony opened his mouth to tell her that he’d built his first circuit board when he was three, but then realized that was exactly the sort of identifying information he should be keeping to himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have had quite so much fun with those tests. “Um. Yeah, integrated circuits, I can do those,” he said. “Most of my experience is with logic gates, but I can handle amplifiers, timers, whatever you need.”

“Fantastic,” she said, clapping him on the back. “Was indentured myself a while. Came out ahead, now I’ve got my own ship. Recruiter. Here--” She handed him a small, flat disk about the size of his palm. “This is your identification while on Sakaar; keeps the riffraff away. Wouldn’t want anyone to mistake that pretty face of yours for… an entertainer, right?”

“Entertai--” A couple of beats late, Tony got it, and had to suppress the blush that tried to climb out of his shirt collar. Sexual history, right. “Uh. Yeah, definitely... not.”

“Great. Standard terms,” Val said, “come on, this way, my ship…” she swayed again, her hips rocking alarmingly. “I uh, might have lied about flying the ship while drinking, but don’t worry. I’m very good. Two years service, one way ticket to anywhere you want to go. Standard bonuses, and intellectual prop… thingie. Don’t invent stuff, or it belongs to the Grandmaster. We gotta go.” She tapped her wrist to activate a ship-to communication system. “Get me on a flight path out of here twenty minutes ago. If I miss that fight tonight, I will be put out.”

Tony followed in her wake, caught somewhere in the tide between confused and bemused. He looked down at the identification disk and hoped it had a more coherent copy of his contract embedded in it. He could read through it while they were en route, if there was enough time. “How-- Miss. How long is the trip?”

“About four hours,” Valkyrie told him. “We’re going straight through the Anus. Don’t worry, I have a map.”

“The...” Tony hesitated, staring at her and wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

Anonymity for two years and a free trip to Malibu, he reminded himself. He could endure almost anything for two years, right?

The ship was small, a pilot’s couch and a few benches in the back for passengers. Val took the disk out of his hand, “Like this,” she said, and unbuttoned his shirt until it hung open to his navel, swatting away his attempt to keep her from doing it. She pushed the disk flat against his bare chest and there was a brief jolt of searing pain, enough to leave him breathless and dizzy. “There you go. Belt in, I’m going to be in the air in three minutes, no matter what Tower says.”

Tony somehow believed her. He stumbled back onto the nearest bench and strapped himself in, and then looked down at the disk in his chest. He prodded tenderly at the tender edges where it was clamped into his skin. That was going to leave a scar. “Ow.” Valkyrie was ignoring him, waking her ship’s board up and running preflight checks.

Tony tapped at the disk experimentally, and it popped up a holo for him, a menu of options. He could, indeed, read his contract. He could also check on the remaining duration of his indenture, contact his bondsman -- Valkyrie, apparently -- and access the planetary information net, if there was one.

He nearly missed the fine print at the bottom of the menu that informed him that the device also served to track him and enforce boundary permissions. It would shock him again, he translated mentally, if he tried to run away.

“I do not care,” Valkyrie was saying into the ship-to. “Get it out of my way, or it’s gonna rain down over this pathetic planet.”

She disconnected, and then yanked back on the throttle, taking them into orbit at the sharpest incline Tony had ever personally experienced. Gravity crushed him into the bench, two g, five g-- his health monitor in the chip on his chest went crazy, reporting his vitals with increasing alarm.

Valkyrie whooped, swirled the ship around an incoming freighter like she meant to trade paint with it, and they broke free of atmo with a rush. “Juice him,” Valkyrie yelled, and the disk on his chest dumped-- a chempack into his bloodstream, helping to equalize the pressure. His ears popped.

Valkyrie sighed, letting the ship inject her with the same chemicals. She dodged several more incoming ships, skipped off a warship’s gravity well, and activated the hyperdrive on the cusp of smashing them into a space station. The stars went away, and they were in the hyperstream.

“And, now we just kick back and relax. You hungry, Edwards?”

Tony was still staring at the blur of hyperstream beyond the viewport. “I could eat,” he said vaguely. That had been impressive piloting. Or sheer dumb luck. Numbly, he wondered what happened to his bond if she ploughed her ship into an asteroid.

“Here.” She tossed him a ration pack, self-heating, and tore into one herself. “You’re going to be working with my top recruit. He… needs a special touch.” She tapped one of the buttons on the ship’s systems, pulling up a hologram of a handsome man dressing in gladiator combat clothing that showed off muscular legs, a ragged haircut, and-- a metal arm.

“Winter Soldier,” she said. “He’s a contender. If we can place in this year’s games? We’ll all be on easy street. We’re a team, you got that, Edwards. You, me… and him.”

“A team, sure,” Tony said. He reached out and grabbed the holo, pulling it closer and expanding it. “The arm... That’s what you need a mechanic for? Who built it?”

Valkyrie scoffed. “Hydra. I picked him up out of a bad situation a few months back.”

Yeah, Hydra was bad business. They knew their tech, though. Tony chewed on his lip a little, considering it. It wasn’t like anything he’d worked on before, and the challenge of it appealed. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “So he fights, and I keep the arm in fighting shape... What do you do?”

“Place bets,” Valkyrie said. “Arrange the fights, keep both of you supplied in gear. Promotion. We started fighting out on street corners for all comers, and I’ve just gotten him into his first amphitheater fight. Tonight. Only he’s glitched, all the stars fall and go black. If we can’t get him into shape, the gladiators are going to rip that arm off and beat him to death with it.”

“Tonight?” Tony squeaked. “So no pressure, then. Sure.”

“Welcome to my world,” Valkyrie said, raising her pod of juice at him.

The Soldier’s room was kept at temperatures barely above freezing, and he was still stripped to the waist, sweating as he paced. The arm continued to shoot bad data at him, sensory issues of every sort, sparking in the joints.

It hurt, but that barely registered over the panic that chewed in his brain. He made another turn of the room. The countdown timer in his head clicked over another minute. Hydra had built their weapon for complete control. The arm was a weapon and a restraint at the same time. The last fight, the hack that one of Val’s contacts had put on it was knocked loose, activating the beacon, and setting the self-destruct.

The cold kept it from turning him in, from sending word. As a last resort, he had access to one of Val’s pods, he could submerse himself in cryo, but if he did that, he wouldn’t be in any shape for fighting. They’d lose everything, and if she had to renege on her contract, then his would be bought up, too. They’d belong, entirely and utterly, to the Grandmaster. For life.

“Come on, Val, hurry up,” he muttered.

Heat cooked out of the arm, steaming in the air. He hurried over to the sink and dumped cold water on it, keeping the vents open for the most cooling.

Voices in the hall, footsteps.

The Soldier shook freezing water droplets from his fingers, hand going to his knife. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to steal him. The Soldier was valuable property on a hellhole like Sakaar.

The door opened on a man -- not much more than a boy, really, short and slight, with wide brown eyes and fluffy dark hair. “--ust me to do my part,” he was saying as he pushed through the door.

Those eyes swept the room and then zeroed in on the Soldier. No. The Soldier’s arm. He unslung the bag on his shoulder and he bent down to root around inside, apparently heedless of the Soldier’s defensive stance and ready knife. “Circuitry kit, circuitry kit,” he mumbled. “Where the hell-- aha!” He stood back up, brandishing a small plasteel kit. “Tell me you’ve got a space with good light so I can work properly.”

The Soldier sheathed his blade. He could break this boy with one hand -- the flesh one. “You’re the mechanic?” He didn’t mean it to come out like a challenge, but it did. Incredulous, really. Val was trusting their lives to this… boy? He looked more like one of the trembling virgins in the cathouses than someone who could initiate repairs.

“I know, I know,” the boy said knowingly. “Hard to believe. All this--” He swept a hand, encompassing himself. “--and brains? But it’s true.” He looked around again, and pointed at the table by the bed. “Sit over there, put the arm out where I can get to it. Why the hell is it so cold in here? Nevermind, we can talk while I work. Come on, Snowflake, chop chop, time’s wasting.”

This part, the Soldier knew well. He sat, cocking the elbow and resting it on the table’s top, activating the various slide panels that would let the mechanic at the innards. “Diagnostics, pain threshold 80 percent and dropping, timer reads seventy-eight minutes before Contain and Control protocols activate. Damaged sensor package, broken joints in thumb and index finger. Wrist rotation down 16%. Battery power overtaxed, complete shut down in thirty two hours, nineteen minutes.”

The mechanic’s eyes had flicked up to the Soldier’s face when he’d started the recitation, and they remained there for a few seconds after he’d finished the report, revealing a turmoil of thoughts and emotions. But then he nodded once, sharply, visibly reining himself in. He dropped the kit on the table and opened it, taking out a top-of-the-line scanner. “Okay. Given the time constraints, I’m going to start with disabling the C&Cs and then see if I can come up with a quick boost for the battery before I go to work on the sensor package. You’re the one fighting in a couple of hours -- what’s your priority for the fingers and wrist?” He was scanning as he talked, delicate fingers touching various panels on the arm.

“Finger first, then thumb,” the soldier said. “Fine control, opponent analysis indicates brute strength will be less effective. Armor contains very small weak points. If you increase pain threshold, the Soldier will be most efficient.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the boy said. He pulled a screwdriver and a long-nosed pair of pliers from the kit. “This is going to feel a little weird, probably, but let me know if it actually hurts.” He reached under the plate at the base of the Soldier’s shoulder with the pliers.

“Pain is irrelevant,” the Soldier said, “so long as it does not impede functionality.”

The boy’s face twisted slightly. “Pain conveys valuable information about the nature of malfunction,” he corrected. “I need all the data I can get, given the time crunch we’re under. Also? It fucking sucks.” He twisted, and a shivery twinge ricocheted up the Soldier’s neck. The boy withdrew the pliers, now holding a small chip. He dropped it into a drinking glass. “One down, three to go.” He tapped his way down the plates as if counting, and then went back in.

The soldier watched as the boy tinkered, flicking through tools with precision, talking the whole time. Explaining what he was doing, and the sensations the Soldier should feel. Observations about Val and dismay at her piloting. The Soldier watched as puzzlement grew. No one spoke to the Soldier during maintenance. The readouts and diagnostics told them everything they needed to know.

No one cared if the Soldier prefered the silver ration packs or the red ones.

Certainly no one had ever touched the arm like it was a pet, or a friend, with small loving pats from time to time, gentle fingers against the metal.

The Soldier licked his lips and tried to remember-- “What’s your designation, Mechanic?”

“What?” The boy blinked up at him. “Oh, yeah, we kind of skipped over the formalities, didn’t we? I’m Tony. And you are?”

“Winter Soldier, the American Asset,” the soldier rattled off, along with his serial number, then, “Barnes, James B.” And the briefest flicker of his old life… Before. “Bucky.”

“Yeah?” Brown eyes blinked once, twice, and then the boy -- Tony -- was back to work, sliding a jeweler’s screwdriver up inside Bucky’s glitched fingers. “You don’t look much like a Bucky to me.”

Something twitched at the Soldier’s mouth and when he considered it, he was surprised to find it was a smile. “Looks can be deceiving.”

“S’pose that’s true,” Tony admitted. He pulled out a small circuit board, no thicker than a pencil, and laid it on the table to examine it closely.

“That’s a trap,” the Soldier said, before his programming could stop him. He winced at the squeeze of mostly disabled control chips in the shoulder. “The board’s laid backward. It’ll explode if you tamper with it incorrectly.”

“Mm,” Tony hummed. “I can see that. Shitty thing to do. I mean, it’s your hand.” He picked the board up with a pair of tweezers and turned it over. “I don’t have time to make a new one right now, but we’re going to put that on the to-do list.”

“It is their hand,” the Soldier said. “The Asset is a poorly designed system with permission to utilize it. The Fist of Hydra.” The Soldier mouthed the phrases by rote, even if he didn’t believe them anymore. So much of the arm, so much of him… had become the Asset.

“Well, not anymore,” Tony said reasonably. “Val bought you, fair and square, just like she did me.” He pried a tiny contact off the circuit board and dropped that into the drinking glass with the containment nodes. “Okay, let’s see how that works.” He delicately wriggled it back through the vents in the Soldier’s finger to slot it back into place.

“Running internal diagnostics,” the Soldier reported. The arm went through a series of self tests and movement controls; the nerve tingler activated, shooting steel pain through his shoulder and spine, causing him to slip and utter a tiny sound of complaint. He unclenched his jaw and panted a moment before delivering the report to the Mech-- to Tony.

“Running diagnostics should not hurt,” Tony said. “That’s another thing for the to-do list. At this rate, it might be easier if I just built you a whole new arm.”

“Safety feature,” the Soldier told him. “Installed after the Soldier damaged a technician upon diagnostics.”

“Bullshit feature,” Tony said. “It’s one hundred percent possible to immobilize this thing without activating the nerve mesh circuitry.” He’d moved on to the thumb, and despite his annoyed tone, his hands were steady and gentle. “Whoever set it up like that was either incompetent or a sadist. Possibly both.”

The Soldier blinked. “Pain is an effective teaching mechanism.”

“It really isn’t,” Tony said. He pulled the thumb’s circuit and turned it over to check the connections for its self-destruct mechanism. “You catch more flies with honey, and all that. They’ve done studies and everything. Which doesn’t seem to sway the asshats of the world, mind you.”

The Soldier thought back on all his training under Hydra hands, that had been bought dear in blood and agony. The training of the girls in the Red Room, that he had supervised. The white electric torture inflicted on him for disobedience. Even Val, who he considered an excellent handler, had taught him the limits of his freedom with pain.

He wasn’t sure if he believed Tony, this… practically a child, really. He filed it away to consider later.

After.

If the fight went badly, there would not be time left to consider anything. What would happen, he wondered, to Tony, if the Grandmaster took his contract. He studied that serious, pretty face, the way his hands were long-fingered and graceful. If the Soldier lost the fight, chances were good he’d be dead.

What would happen to Tony-- perhaps worse.

The Soldier set his jaw. He wouldn’t lose the fight.

He had something -- someone -- else to fight for.

Tony continued to ramble as he finished the work, now peppering his unending dialogue with the occasional unflattering opinion of Hydra’s mechanics and building what seemed a never-ending list of upgrades and enhancements for the Soldier’s arm.

Finally, he sat back in the chair and swiped a hand down his face. “Okay. I can’t do anything else in the time limit; all the other fixes will take longer than we’ve got. And I need some supplies for some of it.” He flashed a smile at the Soldier that seemed to light up his whole face. “Don’t think I did half bad, though. Go on and take ‘er for a spin, let me know what you think.”

The Soldier didn’t even bother to run the diagnostics. He stood, fingers already moving for his knives, sliding them out and going through a complicated set of maneuvers, twisting the blades, throwing at the nearby target on the wall, miming a block, and coming within half a hair of slicing Tony’s cheek. With a deft flick, he removed a lock of that curly, fluffy hair and coiled it around the index finger on his right hand. “For luck.”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes round like plates. “Uh. Yeah. Luck.” He shook himself, then rolled to his feet and offered the Soldier his hand. “Good luck, Bucky.”

Valkyrie insisted that Tony accompany her into the stadium stands to watch Bucky fight. Tony tried to beg off, but she wouldn’t hear of it, towing him along by his sleeve.

It definitely wasn’t the sort of contest Tony appreciated, though he’d known acquaintances of his father who’d boasted of attending these very games. He slouched onto the bench next to Val and tried not to watch any more of the fighting than he had to, and tried not to call Val’s attention to him much, either, since her drinking, which hadn’t really stopped the whole time Tony had known her, ramped up rather sharply as soon as they’d taken their seats.

Val was talking with their neighbors, drinking, and placing bets through her handscreen. Their seats weren’t great, but at least they had seats. Hundreds of alien beings pressed together in the lower levels to watch.

The first few matches weren’t much considered exciting; fighting to a pin, or first blood. Despite the first blood rule, one contender died, as the first blood was his opponent taking his head clear off with a single slash of a microbladed whip.

Val laughed and toasted the dead man with a raised glass.

A batch of alien boys, younger even than Tony, were sent in to the stadium to fight an alien predator-beast, all bristling spines and vicious fangs. The children took it down, at the cost of one of them, and Tony watched, horrified, as one of the boys pleaded with the dead kid to get up, we won, brother, get up.

“I’m going to be sick,” he muttered, closing his eyes as the cheering swelled around him. How had he thought he could endure two years of this? He wasn’t sure he’d make it through two hours. He had to convince Val not to bring him back to the stadium anymore. Not that it would help much. He’d still know. He was sure the crowd’s roar could be heard from all over the city.

“And now, I--” the Grandmaster’s projected image towered above the crowd, a slender, human like man with white hair and elaborate makeup, wearing a glittery golden robe “-- would like to present our first title match for the evening’s entertainment. Fresh off the streets, looking to make a name for himself, originally from the great Frozen Wastelands of Siberia… I give you… the Winter Soldier.”

Val slammed her glass into Tony’s hand, drank straight from the bottle.

Tony didn’t even let himself think about it. He threw back the contents. Whatever it was, it was potent, a heated gasp at the back of his throat that immediately made him dizzy.

“And, defending their honor, all the way from Azzano… Strike Force Delta.”

Bucky walked out of his gate, dressed in black leather, a combat mask strapped over his face, tactical goggles in place. He was bristling with weapons, knives and short range pistols, various explosive and incendiary devices.

“Strike Force? Grandmaster, you son of a bitch!” Val raged. “He was supposed to go against just Crossbones, not the whole squad! They’ll tear him apart.”

Tony swallowed again, still feeling the burn of the alcohol. He had a good idea of what Bucky’s arm was capable of, after having worked on it all afternoon. But he had no idea of the capabilities of the squad Bucky would be facing. He found himself leaning forward, trying to look at them more closely as they emerged. “Rigged game?”

Val slitted a look at him. “Usually,” she said, shortly. “He’s still pissed at me.” Val leaped to her feet, yelling and screaming obscenities questioning the heritage and sexual proclivities of the Grandmaster. She went as far as turning her back on him to shake a bared backside before apparently getting most of her aggression out.

In the meanwhile, Bucky had raced away, moving faster than humanly possible, a blue of black and silver, for the closest cover, set up, and picked off one of the Strike members as they tried to flank him.

The crowd surged, roaring, and Tony moved with it, on his feet, fighting to see over the shoulders and heads of taller watchers. He didn’t want to watch, really, but he couldn’t, couldn’t look away. “Bucky!” he called, even knowing he had no hope of being heard over the noise. “You can do it,” he whispered. “You have to.”

One of his grenades went into the dirt, driving back a pair of them, and then he rolled, snagging a third. His knife was in the metal hand, and he used the captive as a human shield, dragging the body with him as he moved. He was brutal, ugly and violent, never hesitating.

Except when Tony cried his name, Bucky turned his head enough, and even behind those tactical goggles, Tony could feel the weight of that stare. He gave Tony a quick nod, and then broke the guy’s neck, off again. The arm was both weapon and shield; bullets deflected off it as he sprinted.

He was fast, graceful. Death as a dancer, moving into close combat range, his knife blurring from one hand to the other.

He lashed out with a kick that sent one of the Strike members flying, where he caught in the protective electrical netting that kept the fighters from accidentally (or intentionally) injuring the spectators.

The last one, yelling curses and screaming, charged him. Bucky took a blade to the arm, and the thing snapped off, leaving the man holding only the hilt. The arm was shooting sparks, the fingers spasmed helplessly.

Bucky staggered backward and the Strike member hit him in the face with the hilt, shattering the goggles. Even from that distance, Tony could see how blue Bucky’s eyes were, wide with pain. He sought Tony out of the crowd again and gave him a little salute -- like he was saying goodbye.

Tony shook his head, clenching and unclenching his hand. “Don’t you dare give up,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare.”

He whirled, flesh hand grabbing the all but useless metal one and-- the crowd was practically holding its breath, waiting for the Strike Team leader to deliver the coup de grace -- Bucky snapped the metal finger, breaking it. He shoved the metal arm against the Strike guy’s belly, wrapped around like holding a wrestling pin, the man curled around the metal arm.

Three, two, one--

The hand exploded with a brilliant white flare, a hiss of smoke, and then the Strike Team leader fell the ground. What was left of him, anyway.

The stump was blackened from fire, bloody from the kill, barely extending past Bucky’s shoulder.

But he was alive.

He was alive, and the winner.

Tony all but fell back onto the bench, gasping for breath as if he’d run for miles at top speed, choking in an effort to hold back his sobs of relief.

Val cheered wildly, finished drinking her bottle, and poured the last swallow or so over Tony’s head. “Go, get him, take him home,” she said. “I have wagers to collect.”

“But I don’t--” He was talking to her back, rapidly retreating as she shoved her way through the crowds. “--know where to pick him up,” Tony finished lamely. He sighed, shook his head to get some of the booze out of his hair, and went in the opposite direction, out of the stadium seating. Downward, was probably the best direction to go, he decided. Maybe once he got closer, there would be signs, or someone more or less official-looking that he could ask for directions.

More cheers and roars from the crowd as the next fight started. Tony pushed his way through, finding a dark staircase that headed down -- that looked promising. He was on a lower level, well lit but relatively unoccupied. There were doors along the interior wall.

A holographic map flickered near one door, and Tony slapped it, getting the basic layout of the gladiator ring. Something even louder than the crowd roared from one room, the wall vibrating as whatever it was crashed into it.

A lean man, maybe an Asgardian, leaned against a wall, absently studying his fingernails, as he lingered outside a room. “Come on, brother, I’m not waiting forever,” he said, then raised jade green eyes to watch Tony with a gleam.

It wasn’t like Tony had never been looked at, before, but he had to admit he felt somewhat naked without the protection of his name and wealth hanging over him like a mantle. Still, the Asgardian looked friendlier than the few others he’d passed. “How do you find a particular fighter?” he asked.

The man made walking motions with his fingers. “The doors are in order by fight. The closer you are to the center, the more prestigious your fighter.” He looked at Tony, mouth twitching up in a smile. “Are you a prize, dear child?”

“No,” Tony said shortly. “I’m a mechanic.” He started off down the hall, looking through the few open doors as he passed.

The hallway was endless, a huge spiral, and Tony’s legs were killing him. Had it really only been that morning since he was sneaking out of his father’s house, headed for the spaceport? That seemed a lifetime ago, already.

“Ah, there you are,” a voice bellowed, and not a familiar one. The -- person -- was huge and muscular and wearing armor that looked as if it were carved from crystal. “I ordered my fucktoy almost an hour ago!” A huge hand, attached to a recklessly muscled arm, grabbed hold of Tony’s shoulder and yanked him toward one of the rooms. “Look, brothers, it’s pretty.”

“Not--” Tony tried to pull free of that hand, but he might as well have been fighting off a brick wall. “Not what you ordered! Let go!” Damn it, his identity chip was supposed to protect him. He tapped at it with his free hand, trying to wake it up. “Let go!”

“Excuse me, asshole,” a familiar, exhausted voice, said, and as both Tony and the other brawler looked up, Bucky flicked a knife through the air. Tony had time to watch the light spinning off the edge before it buried itself in the brawler’s sleeve and pinned it neatly to the wall. Bucky already had a second knife in hand. “The next one will put you in no condition to entertain your fucktoy. This one belongs to me. That’s my mechanic.”

The brawler’s hand loosened, although it seemed more like reflex than choice. Tony’s chip stuttered a few times, sparked, and then he felt the current racing along his skin, like a breeze, to deliver a jolt to the man, who yelped and let go.

“Take him, and get gone,” the man said, cradling his shocked hand, the hair on his arm smelling burned.

Tony took several steps back out of the big man’s reach, then turned toward Bucky. “Val sent me for you,” he said. “Can you walk? Do you need help?”

“‘M all lopsided,” Bucky complained. “Keep over balancing for an arm that ain’t there.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “I bet. Come on.” He tucked himself against Bucky’s side and slung his arm around Bucky’s waist, supporting. “Let’s get you home so I can fix you up, hm?”

“Home sounds good,” Bucky said. He leaned heavily on Tony, practically letting Tony drag him, as he occasionally gave directions. As they moved into parts of the city that looked more familiar, Bucky leaned into him a moment. “Have… have you been drinking?”

“A little,” Tony said. “But mostly she just dumped some on my head.” He poked at his chip. “Probably what made this malfunction.”

Bucky put his palm against the door, which screeched, and then got about half open. “Home sweet home,” Bucky said, pushing the door the rest of the way. “Maybe we can afford better digs.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Tony helped Bucky to the nearest chair. “She was going to collect on her bets when I left to find you.” He scrounged around in cabinets and shelves until he found a first aid kit, then grabbed up his toolkit. “How bad is the pain on the arm?”

“I feel ev’ry bit of a hundred damn years old, and like someone ripped off m’ arm,” Bucky admitted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Soldier,” the holo-com flicked on and there was a miniature of the Grandmaster in the kitchen. “Mr. Soldier, congratulations on your win. We’re so very impressed with you here--” There was something blue and tentacle-y wrapped around the Grandmaster, who snuggled into it. “As a token of our esteem, we’d like to send you a choice virgin, to celebrate--”

“No thanks,” Bucky said, and then his jaw clenched as he realized what refusing the Grandmaster’s gift might cost. “No. Thank you. I already got one.” He made a gesture toward Tony.

“Oh… oh, well, then--” and the holo flickered out.

Tony bit his lip. “I might not be,” he said, opening his toolkit and rummaging in it as an excuse not to look at Bucky.”

“Don’t matter none,” Bucky said. “I’ll pick my own bedmates, not let him send me some poisoned slipper.”

“I think you might be mixing your metaphors, a little,” Tony said, but it made him smile, and his shoulders dropped from the hunch he hadn’t realized they’d been in. He pulled another chair over beside Bucky’s and straddled it. “Let’s see if I can turn off the neural feedback for your arm.”

Bucky reached out his right hand and touched Tony’s cheek. “Hey. Thank you.”

Tony looked up, startled. “I’m just... Uh. You’re welcome?”

Bucky leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and let Tony get to work. It wasn’t until he’d managed to get all the nerve clustering shut down, put a temporary cap on the end of the arm, and was helping the man out of his armor, that he realized that Bucky was wearing the lock of Tony’s hair, braided small and sewn in a loop, around a strap on his armor.

Tony paused, touching it hesitantly. “I guess it... helped?”

“Maybe it did,” Bucky said, and he covered Tony’s hand with his. “You’re th’ first person who’s treated me like a person and not a weapon in more’n fifty years.” He flicked his gaze up to meet Tony’s, those grey eyes warm and inviting.

“Oh.” Tony licked his lips, and then he wondered what it would be like to kiss Bucky, to be wrapped up in that big, strong body, to let Bucky take possession of his mouth, his skin. Bucky’s lips were thick and plush and soft-looking, and they were hypnotic, drawing Tony in...

The door slammed open, banged against the wall and screeched at the halfway point. “Are you-- are you molesting my mechanic?” Valkyrie bellowed, wine bottle in one hand and a glowing holo in the other. “The grandmaster said you were, an’ I did not pay for him to be deflowered by the likes of you!”

She shoved at the door again, kicking it angrily, as Bucky jerked backward, as if they’d both been caught in the midst of doing something more incriminating than not-quite kissing.

You didn’t pay for me to be deflowered at all, Tony thought. I’m a mechanic. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it aloud, though, not with Val yelling and banging on things, too similar to Howard for comfort, and damn it, he’d run away from this. He caught himself edging behind Bucky and made himself stop. He couldn’t turn Bucky into a shield, that was unfair.

“Pipe down,” Bucky said. “I didn’t touch ‘im. Besides, virginity is an overrated social construction.”

Valkyrie blinked a few times, putting her wine bottle down. “Did you just… make a full sentence or something? I didn’t know you knew how to do that. Look, look, stupid social construct or not, virginity is both rare and valuable on Sakaar.” She wobbled in Tony’s direction a little, expression more drunk older sister, protective and somewhat condescending, rather than angry. “I’m not saying don’t give it to this lug, I’m just saying… make sure you know what you want, when you give it to someone.”

Tony gaped at her. That was... surprisingly sweet. “I’m... better off, I’d rather give it to someone I know and trust and like, than have it given away for me, like some kind of prize.”

“Up to you,” Valkyrie said. “I didn’t pay that much for you, you still get to decide. But consider it. I can put you in touch with a buyer, if you want. First times are over-rated. Awkward, embarrassing, never as good as you’d want it to be. Might as well get rich, right, Soldier?”

“And how many times have you sold your virginity?”

“Once.”

“This is a very uncomfortable conversation,” Bucky pointed out. “Sober up. I’m going to get some rest, and tomorrow, we’ll figure out how to spend our ill gained riches.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed weakly. “Rest. It’s been... a hell of a day.” He looked around the tiny apartment as Valkyrie rolled her eyes and stumbled her way into a bedroom, the lock on the door clicking loudly. “So, uh. Where am I sleeping?” Tony wondered cautiously.

Bucky gave him a long, steady look. “You were an emergency acquisition. No place for you to bunk up, except my room. It’s a big bed, we can share it.”

Tony looked around the apartment again, but there wasn’t much in the way of furniture. It was Bucky’s bed or the floor, it seemed. “Right,” he managed, and waved. “Lead on.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said, opening another door to his cold-as-ice bedroom. “Val talks a big game, but she’d rip my spleen out if I did anything to you that you didn’t want.”

What about what I do want? Tony wondered, but he wasn’t entirely sure, himself, what that was, so he just followed Bucky into the small bedroom. “I’m not worried,” he said. “Not about you.” And that was... oddly true.

Bucky woke up with a jolt, as if he’d fallen a hundred yards before landing on a soft bed. His eyes sprang open and his heart was beating so hard in his throat he couldn’t have screamed around it if he’d wanted to.

It was dark, and cold, and--

He scrambled for his arm, his arm, his goddamn arm--

Instead of finding his arm, ragged and torn from his body, bleeding out in the snow, his fingers encountered warm, soft… snuggly.

Someone in the bed with him took a deeper breath and curled more urgently against Bucky’s side.

Oh.

Tony.

Tony was sleeping, half on him, a bundle of blankets and shivers pressed against Bucky’s chest, head pillowed on the shattered remains of his bionic arm.

“Hey--” he said, soft, trying not to startle Tony too much, but-- the feedback was getting to him. Bucky’d offered Tony the side of the bed that was away from the wall, so the boy wouldn’t feel like Bucky was pinning him in. But now it meant that Bucky was the one pushed all the way up against the wall.

“Mm?” Tony cuddled in closer, practically burrowing into Bucky’s side. “Jus’... jus’ need a min--” He froze, stock-still, for a count of three breaths, and then scrambled back. “Shit, shit, sorry, I didn’t-- oh fuck, it’s freezing over here,” he whined, his tone ping-ponging from apologetic to startled to indignant.

“Hey, shhh,” Bucky tried again. “S’okay, you-- were jus’ layin’ on a bad spot.” Bucky reached for the cap of the arm, trying to figure out what, exactly it was. “Could feel m’ arm fallin’ off, dreamin’ about it.” He gave up, waving his hand near the panel, bringing the room lights up slowly. “Can you see?”

Maybe he could, but Tony was, instead, staring at Bucky’s bare chest. Even with with temperatures close to four or five degrees, Bucky put out a lot of heat while he slept, and he’d woken once before, practically swimming in sweat, and he’d shucked most of his clothes, tossing them onto the floor over Tony’s shoulder.

“I, uh...” Tony’s gaze jerked up to meet Bucky’s, and he blushed furiously. “Sorry, I’m just. Um. Arm. Yes. I can... Let me take a look at...” He stopped, scrubbing his hands over his face roughly, and then took a breath and held it as he leaned in to examine Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hope you meant what you said earlier,” Bucky said, conversationally, trying to ignore the fact that he was dressed only in a pair of thin shorts and Tony was all but climbing into his lap to look at his busted up arm.

“What I said?” Tony’s hands were sliding over his shoulder, gentle and careful even through the feedback the arm was jittering through his brain.

“That you can make a new one,” Bucky said. “Ain’t like there’s much warranty on the old one left over.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can.” Tony curved his hand around what was left of the arm and lifted it a little. “I mean, it might depend on what kind of materials I can get my hands on, and how long we’ve got before you have to go back out-- oh! I think I see it, hang on a sec.” He stretched for his bag, precariously balanced on the very edge of the bed, and dragged it closer to fish out a pair of wire cutters. “Okay, this might pinch just for a second...”

The pain was as horrific as it was mercifully brief. Bucky blinked away spots and realized that his eyes were watering in reaction. But then everything went easy and still. “Oh, that’s better.” The complete lack of pain was shocking, like he hadn’t realized that so many parts of him still hurt. He’d sublimated so much of it, had adjusted to it, that he hadn’t even noticed it anymore. “Oh.” His eyes wouldn’t stop tearing up as he shuddered with relief.

“Are you okay?” Tony’s hand was hovering, not quite touching, his eyes wide and worried. “Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, voice rough. “Yeah, I-- maybe for th’ first time since this happened. It don’t hurt. Like at all.”

“Oh.” Tony swallowed, loud in the quiet room. “We’re gonna... When I make the new arm. We’ll make sure that doesn’t hurt. Okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky repeated. He wasn’t sure he knew who he was without the constant pain. Like the person he’d used to be was buried under it. “Come on, lay down, get some sleep. You look so exhausted, you’re makin’ me tired jus’ lookin’ at you. I know it’s cold--” He went to shrug and realized his shoulders didn’t move like that anymore. “But I run hot as Hel, an’ I can’t sleep at normal room temperature.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you run warm,” Tony said, wriggling carefully back down into the covers. “Why is that? You from an ice planet or something?”

Bucky shifted around until he had Tony in a little spoon position, keeping him in the warm circle of his body. “Enhanced metabolism. Healing, speed, endurance. I eat a lot, too. Val complains constantly.”

“Not enough to sell your bond, though,” Tony noted, snuggling in. “If we’re going to keep sharing, I’m going to need some more blankets. Tell me about her.”

“Val? She’s smarter than she acts,” Bucky said. He leaned his forehead against Tony’s back and waved the lights to dim again. “There was a war. She’s one of th’ survivors. She drinks to forget ‘em. Most of everyone she loved is dead. She told me, once. She was drinkin’ more than usual, had a bad dream. She’s brave, though. Stands up to the Grandmaster. Aren’t many here who do. She washed up here, years ago, fought her way up to freedom. Now she’s trying to challenge him for the championship. That’d be you an’ me. Oh, an’ she’s got a lady friend, comes ‘round once in a while, they get roasted together and make love with alarming frequency.”

“You’re just trying to make me blush, now,” Tony accused sleepily. “Does she... get mad? Throw stuff or, or break things or...?”

“Not s’much,” Bucky said. “Think the door frustrates her. She keeps sayin’ she’s gonna get it fixed. It sticks. Mostly, she sings. And cusses about the Grandmaster. I like her.” Bucky thought about that for a moment. It hadn’t really occurred to him, in a long time, whether he liked anyone. But he did. She was… sassy.

A little shiver ran through Tony’s body, and he seemed to melt, just a bit. “That’s good. She’s--” He yawned. “--hard to read. Was worried she might be like m’dad.”

Bucky pulled him in, smelling his warm, sleepy scent. “Don’t worry,” he said, yawning once. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. Need me a good mechanic.” With that thought, he nuzzled at Tony’s shoulder once, and drifted off again.

Tony woke with a jolt, not sure where he was, and then registered the icy tip of his nose, even if the rest of him was surprisingly warm. The previous day’s events scrolled through his mind in a blur, leaving him half-sick and half-triumphant and entirely overwhelmed. “Oh god,” he whispered. Had he really done all that?

And then woken in the middle of the night to pull a shorting wire from Bucky’s arm and maybe reveal entirely too much about himself? Not his identity, probably, but how best to hurt him, maybe. Tony bit his lip, but Bucky was still holding him protectively close, and Tony thought, if he had to trust someone, it would be Bucky.

But he was still going to get some extra blankets.

Bucky shifted against him, mumbling sleepily, and-- hello, morning wood pushed against the back of Tony’s thigh and Bucky rolled his hips, slow and sensual.

Tony’s breath caught. He had no idea what to do -- he’d been handling his own arousal for years, now, but he’d been carefully watched and strictly chaperoned and none of his near-agemates back in Manhattan had really interested him, that way, anyway -- and he had no idea what to do with someone else’s cock, pressed insistently against his leg.

All he knew was that he wanted to do something about it. His own dick was stirring, filling and firming with each heavy pulse of his blood. He couldn’t deny that he found Bucky interesting and attractive, and maybe that was just the sheer adrenaline of... everything, and the desperate need to bond with someone he could trust, but...

Biting down on his lip, Tony cautiously rocked his hips back, pushing into the heat of Bucky’s body, feeling that hardness against him.

Bucky made a soft, urgent noise, a throaty sort of moan that went straight through Tony, lighting his nerves on fire, and then that mouth was pressed against the back of Tony’s neck, tongue darting out to sample the skin right at the join of his shoulder. His hips rolled with Tony’s, a heavy, desperate rhythm. “Mmmm?”

Tony’s breath left him in a soft groan. “Yes, yes...”

At the sound of him, Bucky stiffened even more noticeably, and then, with a suddenness that took his breath away, Tony found himself on his back, with Bucky practically hovering over him. Misty eyes gazed at him, then-- “Are we awake?”

“I certainly hope so,” Tony said, breath coming faster as his heart sped up. He lifted a hand to brush Bucky’s hair back, skating his knuckles down Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky tipped his face, turning into Tony’s hand, kissing the fingers, then-- “Oh, we are.” He ground down, pushing against Tony’s hips, moaned softly, then, “Are you?” He did it again, rubbing them together with interest. “Stars, you feel good.”

The movement set sparks fizzling under Tony’s skin, more than any touch of his own had ever managed, and he gasped, rutting up against Bucky without even thinking. “Good, yes,” he managed. “Bucky--”

“Sweet, you’re so sweet, look at you--” Bucky murmured, and he nuzzled the side of Tony’s throat, kissing his neck, his jaw, peppering little kisses along his chin, before claiming his mouth. More aware of the way it juddered along his nerves, Tony noted that they were both fuzzy mouthed and sour from sleep before that all washed away as Bucky’s tongue slid into his mouth, flicking over his teeth and along the inside of his cheek.

Tony surrendered to it, and then answered Bucky’s explorations with his own, his tongue sliding along Bucky’s, testing the places where their mouths were sealed together. His hands curled around Bucky’s back, pulling them tightly together. “Bucky, I don’t-- I haven’t-- You’ll have to tell me what to do,” he admitted.

Bucky looked up at him, those beautiful eyes outlined with thick lashed. “Yeah? That-- I like that, you know. That ain’t no one else ever known you, no one’s ever touched you like this. You like it, me kissin’ you? Touching you?” He demonstrated, shifting so he was laying next to Tony instead, leaving his skin rippling with gooseflesh as he traced lines and swirls over Tony’s chest and belly, a teasing curl that got closer to Tony’s groin with each tempting whirl.

Tony shivered and shuddered under those light touches, arching into them eagerly. “I like it. I didn’t think it could feel like this, so...” He shook his head, out of words. “Kiss me again?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, spearing his hand into Tony’s hair, pulling him closer, thumb rubbing at Tony’s ear and came in to kiss and tease at Tony’s mouth. He licked his way into Tony’s mouth, breath a soft puff against Tony’s cheek. The scrape of his stubble against Tony’s chin tingled, sensation drowning every rational thought in Tony’s brain, leaving a restless cry of more, more, in its wake. Tony shivered again, and Bucky grinned at him. “You still cold, doll? Let me see if I c’n warm you up.” He disappeared under the blanket, sliding down to tug up Tony’s undershirt, licking at the skin of Tony’s belly.

Tony gasped, arching up into the touch. “Oh...” He pushed his hands into Bucky’s hair, mindlessly trying to direct that hot mouth where Tony’s body insisted it needed it most. “Bucky, please...” His hips were twisting, lifting, desperate in the search for friction.

Bucky laughed, a soft, amused sound that might have been humiliating -- did Bucky think he was cute? -- except that Bucky traced his finger up the length of Tony’s dick, from balls to crown, pressure over the material of his drawers that he’d worn to sleep in.

Tony let out a needy whine, then clapped his hand over his mouth, glancing toward the wall. Oh, god, how was he supposed to be quiet when Bucky was making him feel like this? “Bucky, Bucky, I need, please, I need...”

“Gonna take care of ever’thing you need,” Bucky told him, and did it again, slowly dragging his hand up, fingers trailing along Tony’s groin, a tease and exquisite torture, more than Tony had ever felt in his life, and still not enough. He wriggled and thrust up against Bucky’s hand, who just pulled it back. “It’s okay, I’ll get ya there, honey. Slow, breathe with it. Know it don’t feel like it right now, but it’ll be better if you take it slow.”

Tony whined again, but sank back down onto the bed, panting, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure he’d ever even tried to jerk off slow, too concerned with taking care of the need of the moment before anyone could suspect what he was up to. The very idea was maddening, a torment, and a delicious thrill up Tony’s spine. He tried to slow his breathing, to match Bucky’s easy pace, but it was next to impossible. It seemed he was one huge mass of heated sensation and aching need.

Bucky grumbled in the back of his throat. “This’d be easier if I hadn’t had t’ blow up my own damn arm,” he complained, then, “well, guess I’ll jus’--” He slid his hand down the front of Tony’s drawers, palm brushing against Tony’s skin, then over the head of his cock, smearing copious amounts of pre-come around. He mouthed at Tony’s chest, pushing Tony’s tee up as he went, until that hot, lush mouth closed on Tony’s nipple, tongue working the sensitive flesh.

Tony writhed, each breath coming out on a moan, the heat building until it seemed he had to be burning up. “Bucky,” he pleaded, “I’m so, so close, I just, oh god...” He shoved his hand over his mouth and bit down to keep from screaming as that heat and pressure exploded, a white burst behind his eyelids as his whole body shivered and shuddered through his climax.

Bucky flicked his tongue over Tony’s nipple again, a scrape of teeth against the pebbled skin, then he pulled back, cupping Tony’s cock and nursing him through the aftershocks until Tony was too sensitive and squirming away. “Ain’t you pretty,” Bucky observed, and when Tony opened his eyes, raised his fingers to his mouth and licked away the evidence of Tony’s spill.

Tony’s cock twitched at that sight, trying valiantly to push through its exhaustion. “You are so damned gorgeous,” Tony murmured, curling up to catch Bucky’s lips with his, kissing again and again, licking the taste of himself out of Bucky’s mouth. “That was so, so fantastic,” he panted between kisses. “I want to, I need to see you come, too, can I-- tell me what you want.”

Bucky kissed him, cuddled him, petting his arm and hair with fondness. It was comfortable, in a way Tony had never thought about, being utterly relaxed with someone else. “We’ll get to it,” Bucky said. “Just catch your breath, honey. I ain’t in a hurry.” Bucky kissed the tip of Tony’s nose, and then slid out of the bed, letting in a draft of cold air.

He rummaged around in a drawer and came back with a few things; a cloth that he used to clean up the rest of Tony’s spend, a bottle of water that he offered over and a small tube. “Just in case,” he said, then crawled back into the bed with Tony. “How do you feel?”

Tony drank a few big swallows of water -- it was almost too cold, just from being in the room -- and flopped back onto the bed with a contented sigh. “I feel great.” He tipped his head, looking at the tube. “What’s that?”

“Slick,” Bucky said. “Keeps everything from rubbin’ too much an’ making it sore.” He rolled onto his back, wordlessly inviting Tony to spread out over him, sharing his body heat. “You-- back in my time, we’d use hand cream, t’ you know, jerk it. This is like that, only… so I don’t hurt you.”

“Oh, lube,” Tony said. He might not have much (any) experience, but it wasn’t like he was entirely lacking in knowledge. “What the heck kind of planet did you come from that didn’t have lube, what--” He eyed Bucky’s face, gauging age. “--twenty, thirty years ago?”

Bucky made a soft noise. “Older than I look,” he said. “A lot older. You might not believe it. When-- I remember th’ first man to walk on our moon. Space travel. All this-- that was a dream and a wish when I was a teenager.”

Tony scoffed. “That’s, like... hundreds of years ago. Almost a thousand. You can’t be more than... thirty-five, tops.”

“Well, I wasn’t awake for all of it,” Bucky said, reasonably. “Cryotube got lost. I guess, in time I been awake and aware, I’m about ninety. Give or take.”

“You don’t look ninety, either,” Tony pointed out. “They had cryo back that far?”

Bucky ran a hand up Tony’s body, from his thigh and up his hip, over his ribs. “They’ve had cryo since the 40’s. The nineteen forties.” He leaned down, kissed Tony’s jaw. “It’s a long, boring story. You don’t want to hear it, an’ I want--” He plucked at Tony’s shirt, strange how he’d not yet managed to get his clothes off. “-- to see you.”

“Uh. Yeah, yeah, I can--” Tony sat up and reached back to pull his shirt off over his head. His nipples promptly tightened into hard nubs in the frigid air, but he was still snuggled up close against Bucky, who was putting off heat like a bonfire. Tony shoved at his pants, getting them the rest of the way off, and kicked them off the bed, spreading his arms in a little “here I am” sort of gesture.

“So damn beautiful,” Bucky said. “Wanna kiss you all over. You feeling okay, not too sensitive anymore?” He illustrated his point by licking over Tony’s nipple, puckered and stiff from the cold air, and it felt good, somehow more than it had before. “Listen to that, you like that.” Tony could feel Bucky’s lips smiling against him, before he practically devoured Tony’s chest, licking and sucking at the one side.

Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, twining his fingers in Bucky’s hair and holding on as if for dear life. Each flick of Bucky’s tongue, each delicate drag of teeth, was like a lightning bolt of pure need, shooting from Tony’s chest straight down into his balls. His cock was starting to swell up again, and he rolled his hips without even thinking about it, rubbing against Bucky’s body. “Ohhhh, god, that feels so good,” he said, breath hitching. “Thought... Thought we were going to take care of you next?”

Bucky leaned his chin on Tony’s chest to look up at him. “You bein’ relaxed an’ happy is taking care of me,” he said. “It’s fun, watchin’ you squirm around, listenin’ to the way you hitch your breath in. Ain’t never gonna be this way again, new an’ fresh. Want it to be good for you, want to be good for you, honey. Damn Val for sayin’ what she did. Your first time, it oughta be damn special.”

“It’s been pretty great so far,” Tony said, and it had been a long, long time since he’d felt this uncomplicatedly happy. And that was mostly because of Bucky. He ducked his head to catch Bucky’s mouth in another kiss, because kissing was fantastic, why had he not done more of that before? “Do I get to see you, at least?” he asked when he’d finally been forced to come up for air.

“Look all you like, honey,” Bucky said. “You already seen th’ horrific bits.” He reached for his shoulder, the stump, the scars. There was an expression on his face that Tony wasn’t sure how to read. Resignation, maybe. “And it didn’t scare you off.” He rolled his hips up. “You can help me with these, if you want.”

“I want.” Tony scooted back just enough to hook his fingers under the waistband of the thin shorts that Bucky was sleeping in. “You’re not horrific, not any of you. Hurt, some, but who isn’t? I think--” And whatever he’d been about to say dropped right out of his head as he got Bucky’s clothes off and he could finally see what had been grinding into him since he’d woken up.

Bucky’s cock was thick and long, just slightly curved, heavy and flushed with desire, and it was an odd sort of pride that swelled in Tony’s chest: that was his doing; Bucky wanted him. “Oh, oh wow, you’re... wow.”

Bucky scoffed. “Ain’t that different from yours, honey. Works just the same.” He took Tony’s hand, loose and easy, and let the palm brush down the skin, hotter even than the rest of Bucky’s skin, soft and velvety. The whole thing jumped and twitched under Tony’s fingers, as if it was begging to be touched, wanting his attention.

“No, I know that,” Tony said, but he couldn’t draw his eyes away, fascinated by the feel of it. “I just... it’s a different angle. And I haven’t seen all that many. Not in this state, anyway.” He flushed a little, focusing on what he was doing to Bucky’s dick so he’d have an excuse not to try to meet Bucky’s gaze.

“You can get t’know him, if you want,” Bucky said. “How it feels in your hand, or… you can put your mouth there, if you want. Whatever you want.”

A shiver ran through Tony, just thinking about it. “Yes. That.” He shifted his weight, slithered down Bucky’s body until he was curled into the warm cradle of Bucky’s legs. He hesitated, just for a moment -- what should he do next? What if he messed up? What if Bucky didn’t like it? -- and then huffed at himself impatiently. He nuzzled against that silk-soft skin with his nose and his lips, feeling that heat, breathing in Bucky’s scent, and then licked tentatively, a broad lap from the base nearly to the tip.

“That’s… that’s so sweet,” Bucky said, his breath coming harder, huffing out between his words, like he wasn’t completely calm, or collected. Like Tony had done that, too. It was a strange, heady sensation, a rush of power and exhilaration. And close on the heels of that was a desperate desire to do it right, do it again, make Bucky as wild and crazy with pleasure as Tony had been.

He licked again, and then again, spiraling like Bucky’s cock was an ice cream cone, trying to taste everything, to feel every little bump and ridge, testing, in search of the spots that got the best reactions -- pretty similar to the same spots on Tony, as it turned out, which made it easier. He lapped tentatively at the head, getting the sharp-bitter flavor of precome and a delicious moan.

He glanced up at Bucky’s face and blushed again at the realization that Bucky was watching him intently. He bit back the ridiculous urge to ask if he was doing it right and closed his mouth over the head of Bucky’s cock, dragging his tongue across it and sucking carefully. How hard was too hard?

Bucky’s hand closed on the sheets, tugging like he was trying to hold himself down as his hips rocked in time with Tony’s movements. Bucky shook his head back and forth, long hair getting into his face, eyes closed, mouth open, and he rocked back to expose a gorgeous, vulnerable throat. He said something in a language that Tony didn’t speak, but the tone was familiar enough, a prayer or a curse, but said with reverence.

“Okay, okay, that’s-- oh, god, that’s good, Tony,” Bucky said, but at the same time, he was struggling to sit up. “I… gotta know, if you want me t’ come like that, or, you want to move on, to the next step.” He was breathing hard, body coated with a light shimmer of sweat, steam practically raising off his skin in the cold air.

Well, that was hardly fair. Tony wanted it all, of course. How could he not, when Bucky was so gorgeous, and it was Tony who’d given him that pleasure? But he looked up at Bucky and knew he wanted to give Bucky everything, even if it was just this once. “Show me,” he said. “I want it all.”

Bucky drew him in for a sweet kiss, not heated much at all, just a brush of lip, a flick of tongue. “And I want to give it to you. Want to be the first, the one-- your one. So, I’m gonna talk you through it, a bit, an’ if it don’t sound like something you want any truck with, you just say, all right? We can always do it th’ other way ‘round, if you’d rather. I-- I mean, I ain’t got lots of experience with teachin’, but for me, helped that I, you know, knew what it felt like, before I tried stickin’ it to someone else.”

Tony nodded, doing his best to ignore the blush that wouldn’t go away. “I want you to... Want you in me,” he said. “Definitely, pretty sure, like... like 85 percent.”

“No foul,” Bucky said, spreading his hand wide. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to stick with that. Jus’ tell me, we’ll back it up. I won’t be upset, ‘kay? Promise.” And he actually crossed his heart and then kissed two of his fingers.

The childish gesture made Tony laugh, and eased a knot of tension that he hadn’t even realized had been forming. “Promise,” he agreed. “What, uh, how do you want me?”

“Lay on your back for a bit,” Bucky said, decisely. “Spread your legs, no, not that wide, I ain’t a hippo. Just need a little room to work. Gonna slick you up and work you open. One finger, then two. Get you used to how it feels. See what you like.”

“Okay.” Tony shivered a little in the cold air, but mostly he was burning, aching for Bucky to touch him again.

Bucky picked up the bottle of lube, then looked at it, befuddled. “Well, fuck,” he said. “How ‘bout that. Forgot that I didn’t have two hands. Here, you-- yeah, get the lid off, would ya?” He cupped his hand around the shiny substance that Tony poured into his hand, blew on it. “Warm it up for you. Stuff is chilly half the time anyway, lucky it ain’t frozen, bein’ in here with me, and what would be the fun in that?”

“That... does not sound fun, no,” Tony agreed. He wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable, but mostly just flinching back from the cold sheets. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Shh,” Bucky told him. “I’ll know when you’re ready.” He scowled again at the empty space where his other arm used to be, then leaned in, awkwardly cupping the lube, and kissed Tony, heat, and wanting, his tongue sliding in to taste. The way his tongue flickered against the sensitive inside of Tony’s lip, encouraging him to open his mouth, and then that tongue would move again, tickling at the corner of his lips. Bucky bit him, so light, teeth barely dragging against Tony’s lower lip, stretching it out.

Like all the kissing they’d done before was practice, and this was some sort of encore. Bucky kissed him, and kissed him again, and somewhere in there, slid his hand between Tony’s legs, and one single fingertip brushed along the pucker of his asshole, just a faint touch, but it sent currents straight up his spine; pleasure and weirdness and -- it wasn’t pain, not that, but it was odd.

Tony wiggled a little -- but that just made it stranger. “Oh, oh that’s... that’s different.”

“Yeah, little bit,” Bucky said, and he did it again, just that little brush, but after his hand moved, Tony felt… wet. And the next stroke after that was… more. A brush, but also with a smooth glide to it. Bucky’s fingertip circled the tight pucker that marked Tony’s entrance, and-- weird, but also squirmy. Embarrassing, really, if he had to be honest. Tony’s body spasmed on the next wave, clenching everything up, his thighs, his toes curled, hands balled into fists. “Shhh, easy does it. Here, kiss me again, it’ll help.”

Tony curled up to kiss Bucky, and Bucky drew it out, teasing and coaxing until Tony was swaying into the rhythm of it, losing himself in the slick slide of tongues and mouths and-- Bucky’s finger was in him, he realized suddenly, almost stroking him from the inside. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Bucky said, and he was smiling, soft and looking at him with eyes nearly black. “This okay?” He slid the finger in and out again, pausing as he got almost all the way out to twist around the opening, which shot sunbursts of sensation all up and down Tony’s body. “Looks like part of you is enjoyin’ it, leastways.” And Bucky flicked his gaze down to Tony’s cock, which was more than half hard. Aroused, but not yet urgent about it.

“All of me is enjoying it,” Tony said, though it still felt distinctly odd, but in a good way. “I like it, it feels...” He frowned, trying to put it into words. “Filling? That sounds weird.”

“Stuffed,” Bucky said, apparently agreeing with the assessment. “That’s what I always think. Stuffed full, that sort of… like a good meal and just… letting your body do its thing. Hang on a second, this might… stretch a bit.” Bucky pulled all the way out, and that left him feeling weirdly empty and his hips chased the sensation for a moment without any conscious awareness on his part to move, and then-- more of the slick, wet stuff. Bucky rubbed two fingertips over his hole, and then, slow, almost methodical, he pushed both fingers inside Tony.

Tony’s breath caught and he couldn’t quite let it back out, the stretch becoming a mild burn, not quite painful, but teetering on the edge of it. “Oh, that’s... Fuck, that’s a lot,” he finally gasped, when his lungs refused to hold the air any longer. “Are you, uh. Sure? That I can... I mean, you’re...” Bigger than two fingers, he couldn’t quite say. If only two fingers felt like this, how would he manage Bucky’s cock?

Bucky actually laughed, and that hurt for just a second before Tony realized that Bucky was blushing and laughing, more at himself than Tony. “I promise, it ain’t that big, no matter what you think, babydoll. Here, lift your leg a little, there, that’s it, see if that’s better, an’ just wait, once you relax a little more… then it gets real sweet.”

Tony moved his leg, and shifted it again, and Bucky’s fingers in him just kept pushing at him, even though Bucky wasn’t moving much at all, but it was strange and stretching and-- Tony closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. He’d been through so much worse, and this was, this would feel good, soon. Bucky had said so, and he trusted Bucky’s word, and he wanted to make Bucky feel good, too. With a quiver and a jolt, his body suddenly let go, and that stretch didn’t burn anymore, and that nice full sensation was back. Tony let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, yeah, okay, that’s better, that’s... that’s good.”

“There ya go, yeah, that’s… ahhh, look what I found,” Bucky said, and it was playful and teasing, and then-- something that Bucky touched, deep inside him, responded. Like he had when Bucky stroked his cock for the first time, or the feel of Bucky’s tongue and lips on his nipple. But more, so much more, almost too much more. Pleasure and a sudden, inescapable pulse of desire. “There, that’s nice, right?”

Tony’s eyes had flown wide and he stared at Bucky in shock. “What-- Oh shit, do that again!”

“Yep, that’s the whole plan, doll,” Bucky said, and he worked his fingers inside Tony’s body, pressure and light, brushing sensations that seemed to go straight from Bucky’s fingers, through his balls and right up his dick. “Sometimes, feels so good, you can come just from this. Others, you need a hand to help you along. Which I ain’t got one t’spare at the moment. You can rub it, if you need to, but if you come again, we’re done for the night. I ain’t aimin’ to make you so sore you can’t get out of bed.”

Tony considered that and decided to keep his hand off his dick for now; it felt so good, but he still wanted to see Bucky come. Wanted to be the reason Bucky came. “Later,” he said, and his voice came out breathy, a little hoarse. “Bucky, I want, I want you. Please.”

“Yeah, okay, it’s uh. You know what, let’s swap places, okay? I only for th’ one hand and I don’t want to squash you,” Bucky said. “And uh, you can control the pace, if you’re on top. You don’t have to go any faster than you want, and you can get off as soon as you need to. Okay? Just… gonna take you for a ride. And, you’ll uh, you’ll want more slick. Put it on me, so that’ll… yeah, just like that, oh--” Bucky’s voice spiraled up as they moved around and Tony put a hand on him.

It was even more awkward like this, Tony balanced on top of Bucky’s body, trying to lower himself onto a cock he couldn’t see, that seemed determined to slide away from him every time he tried to push down and back. He finally braced both hands on Bucky’s shoulders and curled his toes into the sheets, and Bucky reached down to steady himself and then-- oh, that burned, and Tony bit his lip hard, looking up at the ceiling and widening his eyes so they wouldn’t tear up.

Just like before, he reminded himself, just have to relax, just have to let it go. Thinking about it did not seem to be helping.

Bucky was probably getting impatient, his own pleasure so close at hand. Tony took a couple of shallow breaths and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Tony--” Bucky said, voice soft and easy, as if he wasn’t teetering on the edge of anything. “Hey… you’re okay. We’re good, baby, so good. You don’t gotta go any further, if you don’t want, if it’s too much. We can try again later, or never again. Hey, come on, look at me a minute, yeah?”

Tony managed to look down, and Bucky was looking back up, expression patient and gentle and... and concerned, like he was actually more worried about Tony’s enjoyment than his own. It hit like a blow to the chest, only warm and reassuring instead of cold and painful.

So not like a blow to the chest at all, Tony thought, and hiccupped out a startled laugh. “Sorry,” he managed, and giggled again, helplessly. “I just, it’s...” Another spate of laughter, until he had curled down against Bucky’s chest, unable to stop.

“Nah, I get it. Sex is pretty damn ridiculous,” Bucky said, “an’ here I am, an arm down and not really able t’ help you. Like to sit you right down on my damn dick, I swear to you, I would.” Bucky nuzzled at the top of Tony’s head, breath sifting through the hairs to tickle at his scalp. “It’s okay, really. First time I did it, came all over the girl’s thigh and ‘bout burst into tears, thinkin’ she was gonna hate me forever. She didn’t; she showed me what to do to get her off, an’ it didn’t involve my dick at all.” Bucky wiggled two fingers at him, making a gesture that both meant nothing and seemed to say everything at the same time.

If Tony didn’t know much about sex with another man, he knew even less about sex with a woman. He managed to get his giggling under control, but didn’t move for a moment, just breathing, feeling the heat radiating off Bucky’s skin and enjoying the closeness. He thought... Maybe, possibly, it had done him some good. He felt a little easier, a little calmer, now. “I want to try again,” he said.

He lifted his head and kissed Bucky, melting into it, trying to show how grateful he was for this, for Bucky’s patience and guidance and for making this so, so unbearably sweet. And, yes, awkward, but that seemed okay, too, like the sort of small flaw that made a handmade item more precious than a perfect machined one.

Holding that thought, cradling it close to himself, Tony sat up again and found his angle, and pushed. And there was that stretch, again, but the burn wasn’t so bad, more of an ache, really, like stretching a tight muscle.

Tony sank down farther, feeling Bucky’s thickness filling him, until he realized there was nowhere else to go; he’d taken it all in.

“--oh, god,” Bucky said, short, glottal, voice straining. His whole body was shaking under Tony’s, skin rippling with gooseflesh, and he rolled his hips once, pushing Tony up. He opened his eyes, wide, staring, like he was seeing something precious and perfect, dear and adored. “Yeah, that’s… that’s exactly right, baby. You’re doin’ it.”

And that look, god, what Tony wouldn’t do for that look. He braced his hands on Bucky’s shoulders again, and started moving, slowly. Lifting up and pushing back down, shifting the angle slightly, testing. Somewhere in there, his body gave in to the intrusion, gave way, and even the ache faded into pure pleasure. “Oh god,” Tony groaned. “Bucky, that’s--”

“Jus’ right,” Bucky agreed. “You’re -- so tight, Tony, I don’t think I’ve ever, not like this, never like this. Want you, want you so bad--” Bucky was gasping, his hand opening and closing gently on Tony’s hip as he rolled up just as Tony came down, setting some rhythm in there somewhere, like the steady beat of a drum.

Tony tried to reply, you’ve got me, I’m yours -- but his throat wouldn’t push the sounds out, just a harsh groan as he rocked into Bucky’s rhythm, sensation overwhelming everything else. Another small shift and -- fuck, yes -- he’d found an angle that dragged Bucky’s cock against that place inside him, a little jolt of pleasure that only made everything light up, sweeter and better.

Gasping, he grabbed for his own dick, curling his hand around it and squeezing tight, stripping it mercilessly, chasing sensation toward the finish line, trying to hold out only long enough to pull Bucky over with him.

“There, yeah, there, honey, just like that, you-- oh, you’re so sweet, Tony,” Bucky was babbling, almost senseless, and between words, he was touching as much of Tony as he could reach. “Yeah, that’s… squeeze down, baby, can you do that for me, can you-- oh, oh!”

Tony tried to do what Bucky asked. He wasn’t sure if it actually worked, but Bucky threw his head back, jaw hanging open and throat working as he came, thick pulses inside Tony’s body. Tony closed his eyes and let himself tumble over the edge, too, spilling over his hand onto Bucky’s stomach. “Oh god,” he gasped. “Bucky... god.”

Bucky managed a weak chuckle as Tony practically fell on him. “That was so good, honey,” he said, absently patting Tony’s back and hip. “Now, here’s the not-fun part. I’mma pull out, and you’re gonna find out the hard way that body fluids go from warm and wet to freezin’ and sticky in about point zero two seconds.”

Tony lifted his head just enough to give Bucky a sad, betrayed look. “Why.”

“I didn’t design th’ system, love, I just work with what I got,” Bucky said. “Roll over, this side, an’ I’ll let the blanket cover you up. Get you a washcloth and clean up a bit. Layin’ in the wet spot is not recommended.”

Tony grumbled, but did as Bucky suggested. He pulled the pillow over his head when Bucky got out of bed to get the washcloth. “I don’t want to get up,” he complained.

Bucky brought over a damp washcloth and gently cleaned Tony up, wiping away sweat and semen with a few quick motions. He spread a dry towel over the wet spot to cover it and then climbed back in, bringing his insane body heat with him. “You don’t gotta,” he said. “This is my bed, you c’n stay in it s’long as you want.”

Tony grabbed onto Bucky and snuggled into that warmth with possibly aggressive fervor. “Pretty sure our boss is going to have something to say about that, at some point.”

Bucky pulled the blanket up and nearly over their heads. “She’ll be sleepin’ it off a while,” Bucky pointed out. “We can lounge around most of th’ day, at least.” He nuzzled at Tony’s ear, kissed his jaw. “It’s good, we’re good here--” Bucky blinked a few times, his lashes closing slowly, and he drifted off to sleep.

Tony dozed for a while, but he’d never really slept much, and he was still sort of processing... everything. So eventually he sat up, leaning back against the wall where he could watch Bucky and the door, and pulled up the ‘net connection that his ident allowed. He had an arm to design, after all, assuming he could get his hands on some decent materials.

Which meant he was deep into schematics and engineering better joint solutions when Val slammed the door open. “Boys, we--”

She stopped dead, staring at Tony, her eyes moving from his crazy, sticking up hair, across his shoulders which might possibly have had bite marks on them, to Bucky, still mostly asleep and curled up with his head pillowed on Tony’s thigh.

“Really?” she asked, blinking. “One day. You couldn’t make it one day?”

Tony reached down and lightly brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, feeling a fond smile tugging at his lips. “No, I don’t think we could.”

[takadasaiko]

Second Chances: Chapter Two

FFN II AO3

Summary: Steve has every intention of returning the Infinity Stones to their correct place in the timeline and heading back to his own. His problems start when he makes an impulse decision to jump over to 1946 and Peggy decides to go back home with him. It only gets more complicated from there when Howard tags along with them to 2023. Tony lives fix-it fic. Pepperony.

Chapter Summary: Steve's trip does not go as planned for anyone involved.

Notes: This chapter has major spoilers for Agent Carter S1, but on the flip side if you haven't seen the show (which you should! It's amazing!) you shouldn't have too much trouble following. Any relevant plot points are mentioned.

Chapter Two

He didn't have to be there. He hadn't been involved with the original mission and there were plenty of people that could report back how the whole thing went once it was done, but even if Mr Stark and Ms Potts - Mrs Stark? Pepper? He still wasn't sure - were just trying to distract him while they worked through the long line of doctors that would want to see Mr Stark today Peter wasn't going to say no. It was time travel. Actual freakin' time travel.

"You okay there, Queens?"

Peter looked over, Captain America's voice cutting through his thoughts. "Oh yeah. Definitely! So, catch me up. What happens if you see yourself? Do you break all of time and space?"

"This isn't Doctor Who."

Peter looked over and his eyes widened. "Wow. You don't look the same in person as you do in TV. Mr Hulk. Sir. Dr Banner? I, uh…. did you always wear glasses?"

Captain Rogers and the Hulk exchanges looks that Peter hoped were amused more than irritated. The blond man shook his head and moved over to talk with the man with the metal arm. Huh. Guess he was on their side now? What all had he missed in five years time?

"Tony says you create your own webbing in the lab," Dr Banner prompted, drawing Peter's attention back over to him.

"Yeah. Yes. I do."

"I can give you a quick run through the system that we have while Cap gets ready if you want."

"Really?" the teen all but squeaked as he bounced over to the control board.

"And Bruce is fine," the older man said kindly, offering a small wink. "You're one of us, right?"

"Yeah. It's official and everything. Well, sort of? I guess. Mr Stark made me an Avenger when I showed away in the space ship."

"I bet that went over well."

"No, not really. He was pretty pissed." His gaze drifted over the mechanics. "He's, uh….. going to be okay, right?"

"Tony?" Peter nodded and Bruce purses his lips. "He's ... got a long way to go. My body absorbs gamma radiation better than any other person I've come across and it still did a number on me." He motioned to his arm still fitted in a sling. "That much radiation should have killed him. There's still a chance he'll lose his arm."

"But he'll get better?"

"He's stubborn. I wouldn't bet against him. From what he's told me he should have been dead multiple times over."

"You ready for me?" Cap asked as he stepped up into the single platform, a case in hand and a white suit replacing his uniform.

"You have enough for each of the six jumps, the return home, and you got two extra in case something goes wrong, didn't you?"

"I did. After last time, better safe than sorry."

"No kidding."

"What happened last time?" Peter asked and Bruce looked a little sheepish.

"My past self gave Tony a concussion and they had to improvise." He moved to set the coordinates. "Ready when you are." He waited for the nod. "Alright. See you in ten seconds."

"Be right back," the blond answered, and in a flash of light he was gone.

                                                _____________

Steve has told Director Fury once that after what he had been through, nothing would surprise him. He'd lost ten bucks to him that day and had learned a valuable lesson: things could and would always get stranger and more fantastical than he could dream up. Returning the Space, Mind, and Time stones were easy enough. The Power Stone's hiding place left him with a reminder of just how small he was in the grand scheme of the universe, but returning the Reality Stone left him in awe….. and almost an Asgardian prison. He had left the Soul Stone for last, hoping against hope that maybe it would give back the soul that had been sacrificed and he could use one of those extra Pym Particles to bring Natasha home. Natasha didn't come back, though, and as if to add insult to injury he found himself having to follow a man he had lost everything trying to defeat.

And then it was done, and Captain America was left to his own thoughts. The pain of a lost friend and the sacrificed could-have-beens crash into him and he made a choice. 2023 could wait.

He flipped the dial back and felt the wave wash over him, pulling him through to the other side. It left him standing on a familiar street, Manhattan bustling all around, and a horn honked at him. "Hey, buddy! Outta the street!"

Steve sidestepped, the car only barely missing him, and he stepped back onto the sidewalk. "Hey, mister, whatcha wearing?"

He looked down, and a little boy with freckles covering more of his face than not stared up through coke bottle glasses. He was tiny, thin, and somehow a more familiar sight than any person had been since he'd woken up from the ice. "A costume," he managed.

"Like Captain America?"

"Yeah. Kinda like that."

The kid moved on and Steve turned towards the newspaper stand at the corner. A familiar face stared back from the front page, all charm and suave and Steve couldn't help the way his lips twitched upward as he read the headline: Howard Stark Cleared Of All Charges Fights to Have His Inventions Returned.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Howard?" he murmured, catching a few lingering looks from passersbyers. First thing was first. He needed to blend in. Once he did that he would find Howard, and Howard would help him find Peggy. He owed her a dance, and after everything that had happened, he couldn't bring himself to turn away now.

                                               _____________

When his weapons had first been stolen from his home vault Howard had sat through three days of mind-breaking congressional testimonies. Now that it was over and Peggy had helped proved his innocence, the inventor found himself right back to square one, but this time instead of trying to prove that he didn't sell weapons to communists, he was there to argue that the government didn't get to keep them after all was said and done. He groaned to himself and downed his last gulp of water. As the senator drolling on and on, he set the glass down hard enough to stop the man mid-sentence. "As riveting as this has all been, I do have plans tonight."

"Then you're conceding ownership to the US government?"

Howard snorted. "Oh no. I've played nice, Mr Senator. Given you your say and then some, but you can talk to my lawyers. Trust me, my inventions'll be out of your hands by the time I get back to California." With that he stood, straightened his suit jacket, and flashed the balding man a shiteating grin and a wink before swanning out with the stuffy old men shouting at him from behind. Let them shout themselves hoarse. It'd do the country some good, and he had a date. Lola. Lena. Lizzie? He'd remember by the time he got there. If not, Jarvis could remind him.

He breezed through the hallway and out the front door, his steps light as he started down the broad stairs in front of the building. Lorain. That was it. Lorain McKenna.

"Howard."

The voice stopped him dead in his tracks halfway down and he spun towards it. A man stood at the bottom. He was tall, broad, and handsome, even with his face half covered by the cap he wore. Dark brown eyes traveled the figure up and down. He knew that voice. He would have known it anywhere. It just wasn't possible. "Steve?"

Blue eyes met his and there was a very small smile playing at the younger man's lips. "Hi, Howard."

"Holy….. how?" He was moving forward, taking two steps at a time until he nearly tripped over himself. "You're here. You're alive. I knew you were. I've been looking. I've been-"

"Can we get out of the open?"

The inventor glanced around. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course. I know just the place."

                                               _____________

Howard had a driver waiting to pick him up that he called Jarvis. Steve tried not to stare at the man that was obviously Tony's first inspiration for the AI that had been woven into Vision. Likewise, though, he found Jarvis doing plenty of staring of his own, and he heard the British man demand to know if Howard had "mentioned this to Ms Carter yet."

"Where do you think we're going?" Howard popped off and gave Jarvis instructions to drive to the airport before turning to fix his clever gaze on Steve. "So you've gotta have one hell of a story."

"It's…. been a doozie," Steve murmured. "Where is Peggy?"

"New York. Working for the SSR."

Steve tilted his head a little. "What's that?"

"Spycraft. Our girl's still got it. You know she just cleared my name when they'd have hanged me like a traitor? Peg believed in me."

Jarvis made a whiny, noncommittal sound from the driver's seat and Howard shot him a glare. "Says the man who was gonna shoot me outta the sky. Wanna talk about having some faith, Jarvis?"

"No, sir. I'd rather not if it's all the same to you."

Steve chuckled. "Sounds like you've had some adventures of your own."

And that's all it took to send Howard into a full debrief of all of the shenanigans they'd been up to since the war ended. Peggy's time with the SSR, his countless rounds of fondue that made Steve wonder if Tony had any siblings running around out there that he just didn't know about, and right up to the most recent chaos that included a Russian psychiatrist and a leathally trained blonde that had brainwashed Howard to the point that he'd nearly doused Manhattan with a toxic drug that would have killed them all in a truly brutal manner.

He spent the car ride out to the airstrip and the short plane ride from DC to New York City reliving it all. Laughter, tears, and a black eye that Peggy had given him at one point, though he was less willing to explain what had prompted that.

At the end of it they stood outside of a beautiful mansion in New York and Steve turned a questioning look on his friend. Surely he would have known if Howard and Peggy….. anyway, Peggy would never….. right?

"I can see your brain misfiring, my friend. Don't worry. I've never been her type. She's pretty particular," Howard added with a suggestive smirk.

Steve swallowed hard. "We should have called ahead."

"Yeah? And how would that have gone? Hey, Peg, found your man. I'll have him to you in a jif."

The blond snorted a chuckle at that. "Guess so." He could almost feel Howard side eyeing him as they made their way up to the door. "What?"

"I get I'm not the one you want to spill all your secrets to, but Peggy's has it rough since you went down. You should tell her. Whatever it is."

It was such a switch from the teasing tone Howard had been speaking in that it felt not unlike getting socked in the gut and it focused Steve. He would have to tell Peggy… something. It's not like he could just show up, have their dance, and go home. What was he doing? Upending everything. That's what. Peggy would have a husband. A family. She might not have them yet, but she would and really, what were his options? Ruining all of that or saying goodbye all over again. He could stay, even if he didn't care about potentially fracturing the timeline, but he'd promised Tony he'd come back. Strange as it was, after all they'd been through, that held weight. He needed to go home and make sure his friend was okay. Howard's son. Either way he'd have to tell her something about where he had been. She wouldn't just accept that it was complicated.

The front door jerked open and a pretty woman with dark blonde hair came flying out, calling over her shoulder. "Don't wait up, Peg! I'm -" She slammed to a stop, eyes traveling up and down Steve to the point he was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Wait…. no way. Are you-"

"You must be Angie," Howard prompted. "Peg's roommate."

"You're Mr Stark."

"Mr Stark was my father. Call me Howard. Peggy didn't tell me how pretty you are. And you're staying in my house? We should get to know each other."

She looked somewhere between flustered and flattered at Howard's obvious advancements, but it was a voice from inside the house that stole Steve's attention. "Angie? You alright?"

Peggy Carter rounded the base of the stairs and suddenly all four of them were standing in the doorway. Peggy was staring straight at him and all at once Steve was that scrawny kid from Brooklyn that hadn't known how to talk to women, much less a woman like Margaret Carter. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't even think. To his left, Howard motioned. "Surprise, Peg."

"Steve," she breathed, and nothing else mattered.

                                               _____________

It was amazing how much energy he seemed to be expending just by sitting up in bed. He could feel his body trying to nod off, determined to shut down and force him to rest, but his main doctor - a trauma surgeon that Strange knew and that Tony was at least vaguely sure had more of a connection with him than the Wizard had been willing to admit in the brief introduction - was there and Pepper was laser focused on going over recovery and treatment. It was something to keep him semi focused until the kid came back with his report. And he would. Peter was smart as he was talented, but most of all he was eager to please, and that meant he wouldn't get bogged down by anything else when he knew Tony was waiting on what he had to say.

"Dr Banner will be responsible for the continued treatment of the radiation poisoning," Palmer was saying, "while my focus will remain on everything else."

Tony's attention swung back around to her. "When can I start physical therapy to get movement back in my arm?"

Palmer grimaced. "That won't be our immediate focus…."

"I'm an engineer. A mechanic. I need mobility in my hands."

"You want mobility in your hands. What you need is to focus on making as full of a recovery as you're capable of making. Your lungs and heart took a hit. Without getting that damage under control, you'll never make it to the physical therapy that will get you to where you want to go."

Tony opened his mouth to argue, but Pepper reached a hand out, her palm resting against his uninjured leg, and the argument died on his lips. "Just tell us what you'd recommend, Dr Palmer. We'll do it."

The door opened, distracting from whatever nuggets of wisdom Christine Palmer might have wanted to bestow upon them, and Peter stuck his head in. "Oh," he said instantly. "Sorry. I'll-"

"Come on in, kid. Doc here is just explaining how my life is gonna suck for a while."

"Better than dead," his wife points out and Tony tilted his head.

"Can't argue that." Dark eyes flickered to meet a set of slightly lighter brown. "How'd it go? Cap make it back in one piece?"

There was something about the look he wore that made Tony's chest tighten. Peter shook his head. "I'm…. I'm sorry, Mr Stark. Captain Rogers didn't come back. We waited, but he….."

A short, painful breath left him and Tony heard Pepper tightened her hold on him. They both knew what that meant. Something had gone wrong. He'd gone by himself into scenarios in which they'd refused to send just one Avenger alone before and instead of beating the odds, they'd beaten him. .

"Tony?" Pepper murmured, but he couldn't find the words. It hurt. More than he could have expected after everything, and he reached out with his left hand until she took it, her support the only thing holding his raging emotions in check.

Cap was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

                                               _____________

TBC

Notes: I adore Dominic Cooper's version of Howard, but I've never written him before now. I lovehim him. There are so many parallels between late 20's/early30's Howard and late 30's/early40's Tony. So many.

Next time: There's not turning back for Steve now and Tony tries to manage expectations for his recovery.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

blaze it bitches

in honor of weed day have this mess ______

ship: ralbertxweed

genre: the biggest load of crack to ever crack

warnings: weed juice, panera, there’s a shane madej quote, t h r e e quotes by Mr Michael Himself, uhhh, cowboys, oh mothman, general idiocy, and all credit for fruity pebbles to my good nugget mikey

words: 1041 it’s baddd yalll

editing: nope

_________

Race idly spun a pen on the counter, waiting for the clock to hit 10 so he could begin to close. He wasn't sure why he had chosen to work the closing shift at Panera. Pretty much no one came in after 9, especially on a Monday. Currently the only patrons were a group of annoying teenage girls more interested in taking snapchats than talking to each other, an elderly couple eating soup in the corner, and a high school age girl and boy sitting in a booth, eating nothing but bread and sweet tea, having an intense discussion about whales.

In essence, Race was bored out of his mind.

Until exactly 9:48 when Albert walked through the door, waving around two to go cups from starbucks. “Raaaaceeerrrrrrrr!” he sang awkwardly, tripping over his own feat and spilling a few drops of what looked like tea on the floor.

“Al get your high ass outta here,” Race sighed. “I’m workin and you’re just gonna bother me.”

“Butttt cupcakkkeeeee,” Albert whined. “I know how to get mothman!”

“Mothman ain’t real and neither am I,” Race muttered, taking the rag and wiping down the counter. “Now get outta here before Jack makes you.”

Albert sighed. “Least drink the tea I brought you?”

Race sighed, just wanting Albert to not get him fired for once. “Fine.”

Albert smirked.

“But then you have to go, alright?” Race said, holding the cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Albert plunged his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a handful of fruity pebbles, dropping several on the floor. “O-kayyy.”

Race made a face. “What's in this tea Al? It don't taste like nothin from starbucks.”

Al gave him a half smirk. “You like my weed juice?”

“Weed juice? Is this- you made tea out of weed?” Race looked at the paper cup first in shock and then in awe. “Wait, this is brilliant.”

“Course it is,” Albert proclaimed. “I invented it.” He reached his hand back into his pocket for more fruity pebbles. “Want some munchies?”

“Sure why not.” Race could slowly feel the affectionately named “weed juice” taking affect. Hopefully he wouldn’t break too many things while he was closing.

“Racer can you go kick out those teen- wait a second, what are you doing here Al?” Jack looked at Albert skeptically before wrinkling his nose up in disgust. “Alright I don't know which of you brought the grass but I can smell it and I’m not dealing with this tonight so I suggest you two get outta here before you accidentally explode the place.”

Albert’s eyes widened in excitement. “We can go hunting for mothman!” he exclaimed, looking at Race expectantly.

Well, he wasn't gonna remember this in the morning anyway so might as well. “Yeah!” Race agreed, throwing off his apron and hat and wailing them at Jack.

“Try not to get arrested!” Jack called after them, shaking his head.

Once outside, Albert led Race to his car and opened the trunk. “Okay so I figured it out! Mothman wont show us to himself cause we don't look like him so we gotta dress in his truest form.” He handed Race a cheap cowboy costume and a hat.

“Mothman’s a cowboy?”

“Duhhhhh,” Albert rolled his eyes. “Cowboys are the most most cryptic, and sos mothman! It’s how’s he’s stayed hidden all these years.”

Race nodded solemnly in agreement, hastily pulling the costume on over his clothes and jamming the hat on his head.

“Oh I only have one pair of boots though,” Albert frowned. “Guess we’ll have to share.”

Race frowned in agreement. “Oh!” he perked up. “I’ll wear one of your boots and you can wear one of my vans!”

“Yes!” Albert pulled one of Races shoes off of his foot, knocking him backwards. “Now we just gotta go to the spot!”

•••

“The spot” turned out to be behind a bush in a kids playground.

“Are you sure we’ll find mothman here?” Race asked, peeking through his dollar store binoculars at his dark surroundings.

“My sources say yes.”

“You have sources?” Race asked skeptically.

“Course.” Albert took a swig from his to go mug.

“Are you still drinkin that weed juice?”

“Nah.” Albert looked at the cup fondly. “It’s my munchies. I can taste the colors.”

Race leaned over. Munchies sounded good right now. “Can I have some?”

“No! My munchies!” Albert wrapped the cup protectively in his arms.

“I want!”

“No!”

“Give!”

“Quiet you’re gonna scare away mothman!”

Race shut up immediately. He didn’t want to scare away his cryptid friend. He had to film a tik tok video with him and become famous!

After ten minutes though, he couldn’t be silent any longer.

“I’m tired,” he whispered loudly. “When is mothman gonna get here?”

Albert knit his eyebrows together, considering while he chewed on a few red fruity pebbles. “Oh I know!” he exclaimed. “Let’s talk about stuff mothman would like so he knows we’re friends.”

Race was intrigued. “Like what?”

“Hmmm,” Albert pondered for a few minutes before beginning to rant. “Crickets are scary but rubbing your legs together under a blanket as such is nice so crickets made some points i guess.”

Race nodded in agreement. “And like,” he thought for a second. “Ok so whales slap. But also they’re big and they don’t need to be.”

“Whales are very cryptic,” Albert yawned. “And I guess no offense to anyone who actually likes them but kiwi birds are weird and why did they need a fruit named after them and why are they fuzzy and who gave the Fruits the right to be fuzzy like what the fuck- WAIT WHICH CAME FIRST THE BIRD OR THE FRUIT- god they’re as cryptic as whales.”

“That’s a good point.” Race laid back in the grass. “Maybe if we go to sleep mothman will show up to kiss us goodnight.”

“You’re so right!” Albert quickly joined Race in the grass. “I’m tired anyway. So this is like,” he pressed his lips together, thinking hard, “killing two birds with one egg.”

“Birds work for the government,” race muttered. “Night Albie.”

“Night racer.”

Race dozed off, dreaming of yodeling with mothman and getting verified on tik tok.

__________

okay look idk either if you wanna read actual good high ralbert shit go to @papesdontsellthemselves cause I basically just stole his brand (and his quotes) for this fic so

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

tag list @fairly-awkward-trashcan @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @ughwaitwhat @aw-jus-let-em-try @tommy-s-s0cks @voice-foundshoe-lost @stopthe-presses @ridin-in-style @pinecovewoods @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @bencookisagod @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @stellar-alpaca @saxoph-ella @smolcanadiankid @disney-princess-sized @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @insane-tomato @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @have-we-got-news-for-you @thatfancyclam @myidkwhatmynameisblog @legoflambwrites @not-a-scam @albertdasillvaprotectionsquad @entschuldigung-bitches @thebroaaesthetic @tea-and-theater @seasickdolphin @auspicioustarantula @newsies-of-ny @mrs-higgins @sunshine-e-cigarettes  @spot-me50-papes @papesdontsellthemselves @deathcast-s @the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters @humanracoon @irondad-spiderson-duo @albert-eats-cookie-cake 

[callie-the-snarky-geek-blog]

RvB16 Episode 4 Review: Sis and Tuc’s S**ellent Adventure

(Old Reblog Post. Also sorry for the censoring, I’m trying t be cautious right now.)

With a title like ‘Sis and Tuc’s S**cellent Adventure”, so I even need to write an introduction? That’s enough of a draw-in! So… yeah, lets just jump into it!

Overview

It’s been a day since the last episode and Tucker has recovered from the blow to his fragile male ego. He agrees to Sister’s plan on banging past people wanting a six-way with the Spice Girls. Sister points out that he’s setting himself too high and eventually it leads back to Tucker insisting that they banged. Sister expands on what she said last episode, about something happening that made them stop. I guess she thought about it more as she says that Tucker thought that someone was watching them and had stopped due to it. To get a clear answer, they decide to go back to Season 5 now that Sister has figured out how the portal gun works.

Back at The Battle of Broken Ridge, the… Red Army I guess? I assume it’s a Red vs Blue battle. Anyways, they’re all dead. Simmons tries to comfort Sarge after his failure to prevent their deaths… that he pretty much caused. And in the afterlife, Church is laughing cause now they are going through what he did. Sarge is upset and blames the failures… on his underlings idiocy. Of course. But is this going to deter Sarge from fixing the past? Hell no! He is going to create essentially a dream time like The Expendables… a movie I’ve never seen, but screw you Sarge! Harrison Ford makes everything better even if he isn’t necessary! Simmons is just left baffled and confused. You think he’d be used to this by now.

Back with Tucker and Sister, they make it back to Season 5 during the final fight with Wyoming. In order to not cause a paradox, they dodge behind rocks to not be seen… and wouldn’t you know it, Tucker finds a sniper rifle! I’m surprised he didn’t make a bigger deal over finally getting the thing (and… how did it get there? I need to rewatch Blood Gulch man). But with it, he spots he moment where past him was talking to Flowers… and I am still is confused on how he came back to life out of nowhere as I was when I watched Season 5. But we do get an explanation on how he died again. Remember the random bullet that show him down? Well turns out that Tucker’s finger was too close to the trigger and… well, you do the math. Seriously, Church must just be laughing his ass off int he afterlife right now. But Tucker knows when he fucks up and decides to stick to the sword.

We now check on Grif and Doc as Grif has figured out how the gun works now. Okay, so everyone knows how the things work, good. Grif, still wanting to avoid the plot, has sent them back to when he was in college and before he… got enlisted? Wait, I thought he was drafted… meh, maybe time has affected his memory or something. My proof? Well the restaurant is now a Calzone and Stormboli restaurant. Grif, confused, tries to ask some kids what the fuck is happening. Also it’s Halloween so that we can justify them wearing Halo armor despite being kids! Ah, you gotta love those kinds of things!

So… as it turns out… Grif and Doc ended up in a timeline where pizza does not exist. Let me repeat that: Pizza does NOT exist… WHAT KIND OF SICK TIMELINE IS THAT?! Grif yells at children before the fact sinks in and… he decides to grenade himself. Sheesh dude, I knwo that a world without pizza is just sick and wrong, but there’s other Italian dishes to consider! Luckily Doc knows the grenade away, saving Grif’s life for the second time… okay I forgive him for last season now. Cause someone needs to take care of Grif while Simmons isn’t there and Doc is fulfilling that, damn it! Doc is able to convince Grif to instead try and cause the invention of pizza to fix it… after trying to convinced him to use it for the greater good. Someone needs to one day explain to Doc what show he’s in, I don’t think he ever figured it out.

Back in Season 5, Sister now has the sniper rifle and they’re now waiting for the ship with Tex, Junior, and Andy to blow up. Tucker uses the time to ash Sister why she tagged along to begin with. Sister explains how, while the convention business has been going well, her personal life has gotten fucked up. TO put it simply, she got involved with a person working with her… who was married to the head of HR. So… yeah that’s a bit of a clusterfuck if there ever was one. She wishes that things could go back to being silly and fun like it used to be, a sentiment that Tucker can relate to. Back in Blood Gulch, it felt like that nothing really mattered and there weren’t really consequences. No? Wash got injured due to his poor leadership and he’s got a lawsuit on him for who knows how many child support payments. It’s… a rather nice, reflective heart-to-heart. We also learn that Tucker’s mother is dead… that’s a bummer.

So the ship explodes, everyone kind of went to do their own thing, and past!Tucker took past!Sister to the caves to shoe her  ‘surprise’. Turns out that Blood Gulch has a lake in the canyon… didn’t know that. Past!Tucker is trying to, of course, initiate having hanky panky time with Sister (and I imagine past!Grif having a ‘I sense a disturbance in the Force’ moment) and… he is awkward and stammering as Hell. It’s kinda cute… I’m gonna laugh at him anyways! HAHAHA! Fortunately past!Sister is more than capable of taking the initiative and it looks like they were indeed going to have see. ALl as their future selves watch in secret. Sister, having a moment of weakness, asks if Tucker wants to go ahead and bang with Tucker… getting too excited and causing last him to hear him. They don’t get caught and cause a paradox thankfully, but it’s enough to cause past!Tucker to call hanky panky time off. So… Tucker totally cockblocked himself… twice… with the same girl… wooooow.

Sister is of course annoyed as they return to Valhalla as well as disappointed in herself for almost banging with Tucker. But hey, she gets a new idea… to go back and bang her past self! No! Sister, selfcest leads to bad things! She goes off and if they had animated this scene, I imagine that Tucker would be kicking himself right now. Literally. But hey, you came close buddy.

Review

This was a laugh riot, OMG. Before we get to the main event, lets talk about the other pairs.

There’s not a lot to say about Sarge and Simmons really. As expected, Sarge caused his own problem and fails to recognize it. IDK if him saying that he’s going to recruit others is going to go anywhere, but it was there. I did like how Simmons was concerned about Sarge’s state after and him continuing to be a dork with having a log (but… it was a science log here and last time it was a star log… does Simmons keep multiple logs?! NERD!) Him just being completely and utterly baffled at how Sarge could jump to the conclusion he made was also hilarious, especially him just weakly returning the ‘hoorahs’. IDK why the mental image of Gus recording that crack me up… but it cracks me up.

There’s a bit more to talk about with Grif and Doc. First, addressing the brief continuity error about Grif claiming to be enlisted. Now him dropping out of college? I can buy that. But in the Fan Guide and I’m fairly sure that Geoff himself said it before, Grif was drafted. Then again he did claim that he signed up willingly back int he very first episode, so… IDK. It’s not that big a deal and it can easily be hand-waved as him just saying that so Doc won’t question him about it or with pizza no longer existing, maybe he did enlist due to time screwing up and his memory adjusted accordingly. So ultimately, unless this is important later and IDT it will be, it’s not that big a deal.

So we continue to see Grif ignoring the problem and trying to get back to the pizza quest. To Doc’s credit, he is trying to get Grif to focus on it, but this being Doc he can’t really force it and IDT hes going to unleash O’Malley if he can help it. Grif yelling at children (and one I’m fairly sure is voiced by Lindsay? Or at least one sounded like Space Kid) about pizza’s existence also had me about ready to burst a guy. I imagine that Geoff blew his voice out after that, but his sacrifice is appreciate if that is the case. Plus hey, he NAILED it. Seriously, sidetracking, but the voice acting has been perfection so far. But yeah, I assume that something is going to happen to force Grif into facing the problem moreso than the others (I imagine whenever they discover Huggins… where is she BTW?) and I worry that since he’s kept Grif from getting killed twice now, something might happen to Doc… but we’ll see!

Okay, onto the main event! The entire S**cellent adventure was a laugh riot, OMG. Honestly just having Sister have some prominent screentime after so long was SO nice. I am loving how Joe is handling her this season. Her and Tucker’s banter was perfection. Them going form bickering to flirting is just hilarious and I am loving it. I wasn’t sure what to expect from them aside form flirting, and so far having the two most horny characters on the show together has been incredibly entertaining.

Their heart to heart was really nice as well. Sister definitely screwed up as far as her personal life is concerned, which makes her wanting to go back to before then understandable. Tucker being able to relate with what happened in S15 when his choices came back to bit him in the ass was also really nice. Especially as he reflects how back during Blood Gulch, it didn’t seem like he had to care. Regardless of what happened, there weren’t any long-term consequences. I’d have to rewatch Blood Gulch to see how much of that is true, but for the most part he’s correct. Back then you could be as stupid as you wanted and it would work out. Even death wasn’t a big deal. Now? Well… it is. It’s not like how it was back then, and seeing Tucker reflect on that was a really good moment for him.

What else can I say? Ugh… well it ended how I expected. The second I saw the title of this episode, I immideatly went ‘they’re gonna go back to find out about the sex thing and it end sup Tucker messed it up, aren’t they?” And I was right! Yay! I didn’t see Sister deciding to indulge in selfcest coming and tbh Tucker handled the revelation better than I thought he would, but still it went as i expected. But at least we have conformation: Tucker and Sister almost did sex, but Tucker thwarted himself. Ain’t that a bitch?

Final Thoughts

This one is definitely meant to be purely a comedic episode. Which is fine since it was hilarious. Tucker and Sister’s back and forths had me giggling and Grif’s mental breakdown at pizza no longer existing had me in stitches. It was good! My only real complaint is I’d have liked some more plot, but I guess it’s better to get the funny time travel antics out of the way first before going forward. Plus hey, it was still funny, so why complain? Overall, that was indeed a s**cellent adventure.

[takaraphoenix]

And the award for the farthest fucking reach for incest goes to: The DuckT@les fandom. Apparently. Seriously, why do I even browse through other fandoms anymore...? It’s just frustrating.

Like, I don’t ship on that show, but I can see why people would want to ship the only girl character with one of the triplets. I mean. They’re literally the only ones around, I guess.

And cue in the antis: Nooo, don’t ship that since she is the “adopted niece” of their uncle.

First of all; he is their uncle’s uncle. That alone is such a far climb along the family tree.

And just because he embraces his servant’s granddaughter and gives her the honorary title of niece does not actually make her his niece. Not even a fucking adoption happened?? She still has her grandmother and is living with her grandmother, who is her legal guardian??

Just... how far do antis have to reach to whack other people with their Moral Superiority Gavel.

Because this is some next-level pathetic bullshit right there.

Just because your grand-uncle decides to call a girl his honorary niece does not in literally any stretch of the definition make the four kids “adopted siblings”. Not even close. Only if either the legal guardian of the triplets, who is not actually their grand-uncle, were to legally adop her, or if her grandma were to legally adopt the triplets - that is how fucking ADOPTION WORKS.

How does tumblr bend over backwards to somehow reach for incest whenever they don’t like a ship? You can just not like a ship! Not every ship you dislike has to be incest for you to dislike it, for fuck’s sake!

Stop. Calling. Every. Thing. That. Makes. You. Uncomfortable. Incest.

IT IS NOT.

Gods. How do idiots not get that into their tiny anti brains. I really don’t get that. Just don’t invent new meaning for words that have an established meaning.

Just because two people are close does not actually turn it into incest. That is literally how relationships start, you know that, right? You know that. Right? You gotta get ~close~ to someone before you get ~together~. And if you start calling every time two characters are close or throw around familial terms with each other “ACTUAL INCEST!!!” when being shipped, then just f you.

Men casually call each other “bro”, that does not actually make them brothers. That is not how that works.

And an old, sentimental man declaring to an excited little girl that she is now his niece does not actually make her his niece and even less so make her suddenly the sister to his nephews.

That’s some seriously impressive brain-acrobatics you did there.

I get that you wouldn’t like any of those ships. But guess what? Instead of playing moral police and inventing new definitions for the terms “incest” and “adoption”, how about you just fucking blacklist the ship tags??

[jsctens]

Current favorite stranger things blogs? or friends

OH boy do i have a list for you. sorry anon, i hope you’re ok with me screaming about how great my mutuals are 

(this is no particular order btw) (also!! everyone if i used the wrong pronouns please let me know and i will fix it)

@vwheeler (the dustin to my steve! val is already one of my favourites and i’ve known her for one day. also? she’s always the first one to share new content, like where would we all be without her? probably lost and still wondering when S2 is going to come out tbh)

@rhapsodyinblueyellowgreen (my 4 years older twin sister! grace has some of the best fics around anon, and she’s your gal if you want to be blessed constantly with the cutest lumax and mileven posts)

@strange-thangs (my other twin! ross’ blog is the best for all your el and hop angst and flangst (fluff + angst) needs. like seriously, he knows those characters better than the duffers, probably. all the proof is in his incredible writing. also, he’s hella funny, his shitposts are A+++)

@jane-el-hopper (lucy’s fics are so incredible, every time she posts one i gotta reread it 78 times and appreciate how perfect the writing is. and, her shitposting is also the best. you won’t find anyone funnier and cooler on this site than lucy.)

@thezoomermax (rachel’s lumax fics are STUNNING. every. single. one. like really, rachel if you’re reading this what the hell did you do to get so good? i didn’t even know that level of talent could exist in the world. plus anon! she posts lots other cool things you might be interested in, like teen wolf and harry potter)

@bubblynancy (my girl anna!!! yet another talented fic writer (why is everyone so good i cant handle it) and her blog has pretty much everything you could ask for. stranger things, IT, the maze runner, harry potter and a lot more. i aspire to have an acc as amazing as anna’s)

@clericwil (first off, let’s talk about how aesthetically pleasing gemma’s theme is. it’s so pretty i cry. second, she’s got some of, if not the best byeler fics around!! she posts all the prettiest and all the best st content)

@puzzlingsnark (nicole isn’t strictly stranger things, but whatever, her blog is a perfect mix of everything thats great in the world. and all her stranger things posts are so cool!! she’s got some great opinions about ships and characters, i love reading her tags!)

@the-proud-princess (ANOTHER super amazing writer. this fandom has some of the most talented people ever i swear. anyways anon, sabrina’s blog is perfect. the pinnacle of st blogging, truly)

@partwayhappy (Norm’s blog IS SO INCREDIBLE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. first off the url is perfect? like if you’re not already sold on following after seeing it idk what to tell you anon. this is one of my favourite st blogs ever)

@maplestreet83 (guess what? kaisa is ONE MORE amazing fic writer to add to the everlasting list. kaisa’s blog is the best balance of beautiful fics and beautiful posts.)

@moodyandmoonyeyed (marah is the nicest person you’ll ever meet. 100%. and her blog is great for harry potter, phenomenal fics, and stranger things conent in general. she’s so talented, words can’t describe tbh)

@janeswheeler (aka writer of the most iconic mileven enemies to lovers fic “I Want to Ki** You”. your life isnt complete until you’re reading that absolute gem of a story. plus, her st posts are fantastic!)

@formerlyjannafaye (okay janna’s original posts are SO SO GOOD. they always make me cry or squeal or smile like crazy. she’s got the best mileven headcanons)

@themikewheelers (tori writes the best posts about all the stranger things characters. im pretty sure its actually the duffers in disguise, because the mileven headcanons, the lumax headcanons, pretty much ALL the headcanons are so perfect and great to read)

@hannahberrie (um, if you haven’t read everybody talks, and if you’re not reading strings attached you are seriously missing out. plus! hannah’s gifs and moodboards are always gorgeous)

@she-who-the-river-could-not-hold (kathryn literally invented lumax. no one can write them like she does, and all her aus are so original and well thought out i cry at her talent every single time)

AND FINALLY!! here’s a quick list of some underrated blogs i love (i would totally write super long paragraphs for all of you if it werent for the fact that this post is WAY TOO LONG. i love all of these blogs so much though)

@milevenhell

@mikeswheelers

@captainwilldameron

@michael-hearteyes-wheeler

@whatswithanna

@wheezingwheeler

@paladin-wheeler

@martiegalwrites

[dead-dialogs]

Everything’s Better(?) with Arsenic

Disclaimer: I have never dug up a dead person. That is, quite frankly, more paperwork than I have the attention span for (which is saying something, because for two years my whole job was paperwork). But fortunately for this blog post, there are a great many contemporary archaeologists who have dug up lots of dead people, including a bunch I know pretty well, and almost always they’re more than happy tell you about it. And publish about it. So thanks to everyone I used to work with, the Society for Historical Archaeology, and the multitude of private firms who put their dead shit/toxic shit protocols online in PDF format. 

The 19th century got really, really weird about death. 

To be fair, the 19th century also got really weird about a lot of things, like the color white, and putting pants on animals, and moral justifications for corporate imperialism, but we’re talking about death right now. There’s been a lot of work done about why things got so crazy, which might be a thing I talk about later. Right now, though, let’s talk embalming. 

People have been preserving other people’s dead bodies since way before the 19th century - don’t @ me, egyptology kids, I had that weird gold book with the scarab on the cover too. Even back to the Renaissance, anatomists were embalming bodies for dissection (listen, drawing the intestines takes a really long time, and it’s July and refrigeration won’t be invented for another 500 years, give or take, so we gotta do something or it’s going to get noxious in here real damn fast.) 

In the US, widespread embalming doesn’t really happen until the Civil War, for a couple reasons. In general, most people died within relatively easy riding distance of where the rest of their family was. There was this whole Victorian concept of a good death - not something we think about, in general, death is death and we normally don’t get to pick, but in the 19th century, there was a weird social stigma attached to everything you did, up to and including the way you died, because the Victorians were fucking nuts. The really only socially acceptable way to go was dying at home, in your own bedroom, ready to be prepared and brought into the parlor for the funeral. (Someone remind me to talk about coffin doors and the evolution of the living room in another post, it’s super interesting.) Dying anywhere that wasn’t home was this huge source of gossip, because if it was an illness, why weren’t you where your family was caring for you (because hospitals are deathtraps and also full of Poor People)? If it wasn’t an illness, why were you out doing something that could get you killed? Lots of judgement flying around in the Victorian era. 

The Civil War changed this in a really big, really immediate way. In addition to the whole dying away from home thing, in a way that really couldn’t be controlled since, you know, soldiers die, there’s also this lack of closure because of the chaotic nature of battle. A lot of families never really knew what happened to their male family members, because there wasn’t a system in place for notifying families of the deceased, and this is well before the era of dog tags or other forms of identification. In a lot of cases, missing in action just meant we don’t know which mass grave your son/brother/husband is in. Whoops. 

The US Army did have a system in place when they were able to identify you on the battlefield, or if you died in an army hospital, where they would embalm your remains and then ship you home on the closest railroad. After the war, this became just a cultural facet of death - you were embalmed, left out in the living room for a few days while people paid their respects, and then buried. This also dovetailed with some weird superstitious facets of the Christian traditions surrounding death (namely that Jesus would actually literally make you rise from the grave upon his return, but only if there was a body to raise, ie. cremation is definitely out). 

Since this is an era when literally no one knew what they were doing re: biology or chemistry, early chemical embalming was a lot of things getting thrown at the wall to see what would keep it from rotting. People discovered that arsenic tended to work well, so this was the primary chemical used from 1850 all the way up until 1910, when it was banned by the US because it kept killing embalmers. Go figure. Between 1853 and 1876, six different patents were filed for embalming fluid containing arsenic, ranging in concentration from four ounces to a Most Definitely Lethal twelve pounds per body. (For context, the minimum lethal dose for an average adult human is about 20mg, or eight ten thousandths of an ounce. Yikes.) 

Mercury was also used a lot, because we used mercury for goddamn everything, as well as formaldehyde. (To my knowledge, embalmers in the US still use formaldehyde today, although the EU has been trying to scale back its use because it definitely causes cancer.) In addition to all of this, some more wealthy individuals were buried in metal or lead-lined air tight caskets, which I guess were probably used primarily in shipping bodies?? I don’t know, I actually know more about dead bodies than their containers. If someone knows, come chat, we’ll be good friends. 

This is all well and good, except things like arsenic and mercury don’t actually, like, break down over time. So once the coffin is gone bc wood does break down over time, those chemicals start to leach down into the water table and get absorbed into local plant life, which is definitely not a thing you want to have happen at all. To further complicate matters, there’s very little record keeping about this from the period, so it’s functionally impossible to know which bodies were embalmed or what chemicals/how much of them were used. Which makes it really fun to be an archaeologist moving a 19th century cemetery. 

Fortunately, there’s a couple really easy ways to know if a body you’ve just excavated was embalmed with arsenic or mercury. If you open the casket and the bones are blue to blue-green and covered in tiny crystal structures, close that shit and leave immediately, that thing’s either a biohazard or an alien, and you want to be fucking with neither of those things. (Note: if there are only little spots of blue-green in places, that’s fine, because you know how copper turns your skin green? It does that to bone, too.) If you smell garlic (and no one’s eating lunch downwind), that’s also a big clue that you’re dealing with arsenic. And if you know the burial is for sure 19th century, and you crack that sucker open and there’s still little bits of flesh, that’s a dead giveaway that there’s some hardcore preservatives at work. 

If you’re really unlucky, cracking open a metal or lead-lined casket might release all sorts of pathogens you’re not prepared to deal with, in some sort of time traveler's worst nightmare. There’s not a whole lot in the way of documentation for this, since the people who were typically being buried in these caskets were more affluent and archaeologists (and developers who want cemeteries moved for space to put up a Walmart) tend to leave them be. As in all cases dealing with the Victorian era, just exercise extreme amounts of caution, because those fuckers were playing with fire and just about everything else besides, and shit is very likely to get real fucking weird. 

If you found this informative, entertaining, or weird enough that you want to see more, drop me a line at dead-dialogs.tumblr.com or at macy.franken@gmail.com with your history questions, and consider kicking a few bucks into my KoFi at ko-fi.com/deaddialogs. 

[damnbutcher]

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse?:  canonically speaking? well obviously charles only has one actual ship that’s canon to black sails lmfao and I have a hard time choosing it as an endgame ship for him.  it’s not because I don’t like the relationship, but because Charles and Eleanor are both such strong, independent, stubborn individuals who just have different views for the way they want to live their life.  If something were to magically change - Charles decided England’s reign wouldn’t be so bad or Eleanor decided to throw up a middle finger at England alongside Charles - these two could be fucking unstoppable.  Their drive to achieve their ends truly knows no bounds and when they’re on the same page, shit gets done.  And they love each other so much, to the very end and beyond.  But canonically I never held out hope for them to be an endgame couple.  They just are both stuck to the way they see the world for the better and neither are willing to compromise that viewpoint.  Now that I’ve rambled, lmfao, non-canonically speaking, it’s gotta be Charles Vane and Elizabeth Swann because wow they just love each other so much???  Like, I can’t even begin to break down the amount of absolute dedication he has for her.  I mean... he was going to turn himself in to the Brethren Court for her in one of our threads???  He just loves and respects her so much guys, it’s great and I love it and I love them.  But honestly, I think all my ships I write here can be considered an otp for me for Charles.  They’ve all happened organically, from pure chemistry, and they all have different elements but Charles loves them so deeply and fully, I absolutely love the way those stories have gone over the years of threading them - from Nanna saving him with the golden apple, to Charles not knowing Mary survived the walkers in the TWD au and he’s got a little daughter out there, to Megan and Charles taking care of her nieces and eventually having a family of their own like... seriously guys, I have some amazing ships on this blog and I love them all.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?:  pretty much anything as long as it’s in-character for Charles tbh.  

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?:  hahah eh, I’m kind of (personally) into large age gaps of older men with younger women, but I think any muse younger than sixteen absolutely kills it for me.  like, that’s way too young.  Also, Charles doesn’t really like younger girls - he tends to appreciate strong, independent, grown women - but he did surprise me just ONCE by falling for Mary and I think she was between seventeen and nineteen at the time.  But I believe Mary’s the only younger girl he’s ever grown to like and that was a surprise for us both

Are you selective when shipping?:   I’ll say I’m always down for a ship as long as the chemistry is present.  I guess you could say I’m selective, because I won’t force my muse to have feelings for someone when it’s just not happening.  I’ve tried in the past and it’s just gone aaaall bad.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NS.FW?:  uh, generally as soon as it gets sexual.  once it goes beyond just a kiss of the lips or a good ol’ fashion make-out session and I start describing genitalia or breasts, it’s hit that good ol’ nsfw mark.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?:  I kinda just broke it all down in that first answer except for one ship which has snagged my heart since the first season of black sails.  charles and max.  I just see so much common ground between them and when max stands with her head held high when her escape is thwarted, I can see the respect charles has for her and I think something really, really special could form between the pair of them.  I also think Max is so smart and so intuitive, she would know... not necessarily how to play charles, but how to talk to him to get him to figure things out on his own.  I don’t know, that’s just always been a HUGE ship of mine and I know most of the black sails fanbase loathes even the mention of it, but it just seriously gets me every time.  i love them so much.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?:   hmm... this is kind of tricky.  I love relationships to happen organically, so if, as we write, our muses seem attracted to one another and it could go further, I definitely wouldn’t mind if at THAT point someone comes to me and we talk about the relationship forming between our muses, but it doesn’t necessarily have to happen in order for the ship to happen. 

How often do you like to ship?:  shrugs honestly I’m a ship-whore lmfao  I love writing the angsty stuff, the enemy stuff, the platonic stuff just as much as I love writing the shippy stuff.  I don’t think I have a set decision on how much I do or do not ship.

Are you multiship?:   yess!

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?:   honestly I guess ship obsessed? maybe? I don’t know.  Charles is a character whose driven by his passion and his heart, so it’s difficult for him not to be consumed by the emotions in his threads where he’s being written with another piece of his ship.  So I know I have a lot of threads with my shipping partners, but I think I have a decent amount of threads and the like with others, too. 

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?:    hm. it would have been woodes rogers and eleanor before he fucked everything up and didn’t trust her enough to go to port royal ( salty 5eva ) but I guess since that happened it’s gotta be james and thomas.  I mean, come on, how could you not love those babes.

Finally, how does one ship with you?:   d u d e.  If your muse is getting some feels for Charles and you really think a relationship could happen, just come talk to me!!  I know it can be an awkward thing but I swear nine times out of ten I’m going to freak right back out in your face and agree that our babes are the cutest and then we can invent a billion headcanons for their future lmfao

TAGGED BY:  @hangtherules​ TAGGING: @getsherhandsdirty​, @veraviirtus​, @sicutcanis​, @averygoodcook​, and honestly anyone else who wants to do this? I’m completely behind on memes so I feel like everyone’s been tagged already lmfao

[noddytheornithopod]

I was tagged by @fryferbfringefan44. Now, I have to post 10 characters from 10 fandoms. I’m gonna take some liberties here and bend the rules by not necessarily picking top faves, but faves nonetheless and characters I want to talk about that I don’t really get to in other memes. Be ready, I’m gonna use this to let off some steam. :V

1. Isabella Garcia-Shapiro (Phineas and Ferb): I can’t help but feel controversial here because while I’d hardly call her unpopular, I always get the feeling that most people either don’t care about her much or that the main reason they like her is because they ship her with Phineas (or Ferb, or some other character even). Meanwhile I’m sitting here cringing at my old Phinabella days, and am in that odd sliver that seems to really like her but don’t really focus too much on the Phineas aspect, even if I still have some dreaded Phinabella inside me I’m trying to suppress? I mean, I didn’t even realise she had a crush on Phineas until a year after I discovered the show (yep, I didn’t see crush episodes like how Linda never sees Phineas and Ferb’s inventions). So anyway, I just think she’s really damn cool. She’s hypercompetent like the rest of her peers, she cares about things that matter (in particular the Fireside Girls) as well as her friends, she’s not afraid to speak her mind (well, besides one thing), plus she’s funny, cute and while probably being the most “normal” out of Phineas and Ferb’s group of friends can still have her moments of quirkiness (just watch Return Policy or Face Your Fear, lol). I also find some of her flaws quite interesting, like a lot of her friends we actually see she cares enough about the Fireside Girls to the point where it has given her anxiety over potential failure, and sometimes she has a need for attention (I really like the episode where she’s competing with Candace over attention for Melissa the young Fireside Girl because of this). Granted her central character arc still revolves around Phineas and I understand why some don’t really care for that, but admittedly I like that kind of stuff too (in b4 “problematic fave” comments from people). On one hand I feel like we focused only on her crush at specific times and not nearly as much as some people make it out to be, but on the other hand her crush on Phineas is just super adorable? I think it might actually be because I kind of relate to her (I often remind myself of her at times admittedly, even if there’s other characters I’m more like XD), like there’s loads of characters that exist as love interests but Isabella actually managed to engage me probably because we actually followed her and her feelings instead of her just being some random girl for Phineas to try and impress (I guess I’m saying she was at least active in her own romance storyline, before then I had only really seen boys chasing after girls)? IDK if I’m making sense, but I guess I’m saying even if I think she’s able to stand on her own with her other attributes and is admirable in that regard I can’t help but really relate to the crush stuff too, which is maybe why I like her more than some people (and again, still not in the super shippy wants-her-to-be-with-Phineas-at-all-costs way). But yeah, as you can see I think Isabella is awesome and she’ll always have a special spot as a fave.

2. Jasper (Steven Universe): I choose Jasper because I feel like some people are being somewhat unfair on her? Like, I feel like some people are underestimating how complex she is and that she’s not going to be the “true villain.” Steven Universe never works that way, not even with characters like the Diamonds, you can even ask the writers and they’ll say they don’t do actual villains. Plus, lots of people have gone “true villain” on characters like Peridot when she first appeared, and now look at where she is! Anyway, Jasper’s story is honestly really gripping and also quite tragic. Sure, she works as a great antagonist against the Crystal Gems, but when we piece together where she came from we really get to see why she is the way she is, and she’s actually quite sympathetic. I mean, in her last appearance in Earthlings, I was on the verge of tears. She’s not just some thug, she has things she cares about and has experienced real hurt, and has become quite messed up as a result. Oh, and I can’t wait for her to come back. She’s gotta be back eventually.

3. CT-5555, aka “Fives” (Star Wars): I always enjoyed the clone troopers, but one of my favourites was always Fives. I was always invested in the Domino Squad storyline, and how they rose through the ranks and eventually became ARC Troopers. However, when things got really interesting for me was the Umbara story arc. Here, we not only saw Fives’ capabilities as a soldier, but with Pong Krell taking control of the 501st Legion he actually started to show more colours to his personality. In particular, we got to see that he cared more about what he thought was right than simply following orders without question. Unfortunately, even if that saved him and his fellow clones on Umbara, it would doom him when he learned about Order 66. Fives may have done the right thing, but when the entire Republic is against you for trying to reveal what they perceive as some conspiracy theory, you’re not going to go out well (especially if you have the Sith involved). I just really liked seeing a clone grow rebellious and then renegade but still cared about his duty because it’s either all loyalty or fuck the army, it was a nice balance. It was just committing the crime of asking questions that doomed him (and gosh his death is so sad). At least Rex seemed to listen to his warning though. :’)

4. Bradley Nicholson (Milo Murphy’s Law): IDK if I’ve talked about Bradley much, but he’s just such a blast to watch. Of course there’s the added bonus of Vincent Martella voicing a character radically different from Phineas, but even then he’s just really funny, the voice acting just enhances that. He’s also quite interesting, given that he’s jealous of Milo and the attention he gets, plus he seems kind of lonely. I really want to see him interact with Milo in the future and see whether he changes his opinion on him, or if he somehow grows even more envious while he grows on the others.

5. Makuta Teridax (Bionicle): Yeah, Teridax here is a pretty standard villain with standard villain traits. Selfish, arrogant, wants power, views his subordinates as nothing but tools, associated with darkness, etc. The reason he has left a mark on me is because he’s not only good at what he does, he’s epic at it. They could’ve just had him be some typical dark lord type, but he ended up developing into a character that is able to plan things out to a ridiculous extent. As a result, he would always find ways to be steps ahead of the heroes, and he would even go as far as letting himself be severely defeated and letting them win if it meant achieving his ultimate endgame. Everyone was being played like a puppet, he was powerful but his manipulation and planning is what made him so competent. Oh yeah, and he ended up winning. It literally took a moon to the head to finally take him down, but even then he had already unleashed so much terror on the world that was now his.

6. Keith (Voltron: Legendary Defender): I’m pretty new to VLD so I might not really be as in-depth here now, but Keith is definitely one of my favourite characters in the show. For starters, he’s just really badass. Seriously, he might be reckless at times, but at least he’s not to the point of being foolish, he’s really good at what he does. Also the whole storyline with him being Galra was really interesting, The Blade of Marmora is probably one of my favourite episodes of the show so far. I was already invested in his need for answers, but there he was willing to go to dangerous lengths to get what he wanted. At least the hell he went through was worth it.

7. Alister Azimuth (Ratchet and Clank): Most of the final bosses in Ratchet and Clank games are villains, but here it was literally the mentor character for Ratchet. Granted I’ve never been too savvy with video games, but this twist here when I first saw A Crack in Time blew me away. He’s one of the last of his entire species and has lost everyone who was ever close to him, but when he sees the chance to go back in time, he can’t help but take it. Problem is that he will rip apart time if he actually tries that. It’s actually really dramatic to fight him at the end because throughout the entire game Azimuth had been helping out Ratchet despite stuff from his past slipping into the open (oh yeah, he also feels personally responsible for unwitting helping the one to get rid of the Lombaxes), but when Ratchet and Clank tell him using The Great Clock to alter time would be dangerous, he decides to stop playing nice. He’s rough throughout the entire game, but now he’s not taking anything from anyone. He needed to go back and undo the mistakes of the past, but he had to end up fighting someone who is the son of his once best friend to do it. Granted he’s brought to his senses by the end, but he does end up dying to reverse the time travel process.

8. Connor Temple (Primeval): I don’t remember much of Primeval, but I always liked Connor. Sure, a lot of the time he was there to be goofy and provide comic relief, but he was also really intelligent and knew his stuff. It’s also cool seeing him grow more important with each series, even if in the end his technological skills almost fuck up the Earth since he was being played by the antagonists. Just a fun and cool character.

9. Max Jerry Horowitz (Mary and Max): Mary and Max isn’t a film for the faint of heart (...like me), but Max has always meant a lot to me. He was the first time I had ever seen an Autistic character that felt real, and not just some stereotype or gag. We get to know him and all of the stuff he’s been through, and you can’t help but feel for the guy. He also wasn’t afraid to be himself despite how much hell the world put him through, which is really great to see. Also yay for a character that actually supports neurodiversity in some shape or form!

10. Donna Noble (Doctor Who): Donna was the first companion I got to know on Doctor Who, and she’s still my favourite. I enjoyed seeing someone with a relationship with the Doctor that was platonic but still strong and obviously meant as much as any other kind of relationship, and she was a lot of fun. I understand some found her annoying at first, but if she didn’t start there she wouldn’t have had such great character growth, learning to grow more confident in herself and overcome her insecurities. She was really funny as well, not to mention unafraid to speak up about things. The way she left the show was absolutely heartbreaking though...

I’m not tagging anyone, but if you’re reading this an interested feel free to do this.

[paradox-oflife]

q and a part 6 pls ignore

1. Who was your favourite teacher at school and why? My 9th grade Lit teacher. She was the kindest soul I’ve ever met.

2. Whats your favourite party game? I LOVE MAFIA. I’m not talking about basic mafia. You gotta play upgraded versions. I personally love playing one called One Night Ultimate Werewolf. I also like playing the law version which is made for super big groups - There’s police involved, and they choose the mafia. The person accused can hire lawyers who defend them. The police have to present their reasoning, and the lawyers have to figure out how to prove them wrong. God it’s basically Danganronpa isn’t it.

3. Is it acceptable or unacceptable to smack a child as form of discipline? Now this is controversial, and understandably so.  I personally would never hit my child and yell at them. But for other people, if it’s a light smack, like a pat, I guess it’s alright. But otherwise nothing harder than that.

4. Can a hetrosexual male ever wear pink? Um, yes??? Do what you want man.

5. Is it criminal to wear socks with sandals? Listen I’ve seen too many people wear these in public to the point where I’m numb to it.

6. If you were captain of a ship, what would you call it? Make it an obscure video game reference or an inside joke. 

7. If you were to join an emergency service which would it be? Probably the medical side of things, like an EMT. Or a firefighter. EMT’s go through a lot of pressure.

8. If you were to join one of the armed forced which would it be? Maybe coast guard. But I really would not want to join the military. I’m too sensitive. If people yell at me I’d probably cry lol. And there’s the colorblind test.

9. Whats the worst thing about being your gender? Periods. And the pain of child birth. Also how it’s scary to walk alone at night sometimes.

10. Whats the best thing about being your gender? Of course this doesn’t apply to everyone, but I feel like sometimes the friendships girls have are more emotional than boys.

11. If you swapped genders for a day how would you spend it? Honestly? Just observe my body. Not in a sexual manner but like, how does it feel like to not have boobs? How does it feel to have a dick???

12. If you were exiled what country would you choose as your new home? I’m moving back to New Zealand lol. I already have a passport and family there. Or maybe Canada if I don’t want a big culture difference

13. Have you ever made someone cry? Yeah :( Not through verbal attack though. I accidentally kicked a football into a girl’s face.

14. Have you ever starred in a school play? In the first elementary school I went to, it was mandatory to do a play. So yes. Three, actually.

15. Were you a member of any celebrity fanclub? Nope

16. Have you ever been a member of any other club? Yes! Animal Services and Protection, CSF (volunteering stuff), Martial Arts

17. If you could have a full scholarship to any university what would you choose to study? The university I’m going to rn

18. Whats been your greatest ever day? I have a lot. One of my favorites was going to an amusement park at the end of middle school. Had a blast.

19. What historical period would you like to live in if you could go back in time? Hmm... Maybe during the Age of Enlightment?

20. What would you bring along to an idillic picnic? My friends, no phones, music, and a sandwich.

21. Whats your favourite childrens story? Does Harry Potter count? I guess not really. When i was little I loved Geronimo Stilton LMAO

22. What movie ending really frustrated you? And how would you change it? The Mist. I mean, it frustrated me not because it was bad, but because it was so FRUSTRATING.

23. What three things do you think of most each day? Now we’re in quarantine, “I wonder how my friends are doing?” “What am I doing with my life?” “Will life be the same?”

24. What do you call your evening meal? Dinner Tea or Supper? Dinner

25. What do you call your after meal sweet? Pudding or Dessert? Dessert. I usually just have a fruit

26. If you had a warning label, what would yours say? “Warning! Certified Grade A Clown!”

27. Have you ever got sweet revenge on anyone? Can’t really think of one

28. Have you ever been to a live concert? aaaah no i really want to though

29. Have you ever been to see stand up comedy? It was a long time ago on a cruise. It was pretty funny :D

30. Have you ever needed stitches? Yup. If you observe closely, you can see a faint scar near my eye. If it was a bit more obvious I’d look like an anime villain lol

31. If you could invent brand new baby names what would they be? LMAO imagine naming your child like, Fire Emblem names. “Hi yes this is my baby, um, his name is Chrom”

32. Do your dreams ever tell you to do anything? I have the most bizarre dreams. They’re super vivid. They range from me summoning tornados, to me being killed in some Danganronpa world. I dreamed of a school shooting once and a couple days later some other school in my state had a shooting

33. Who's your favourite radio 1 DJ? I don’t really listen to radio lol

34. Whats the best way to your heart? Be a good person. Have good morals.

35.  Do you know your own mobile phone number off by heart? Um yes??? 

36. If you were a fashion designer, what style of clothing or accessories would you design? Just comfortable hoodies that don’t change when you wash it.

37. Do you ever laugh at things you shouldn't? I laugh when I’m nervous. Like I go like, “hahahawhat the hell”. I also laugh when I’m shocked.

38. Have you ever been in a submarine? Yes! But it wasn’t underwater.

39. Have you ever walked out of a cinema before the film was done? Nope. 

40. What song would you say best sums you up? Eeeh i can’t decide but Read my Mind by the Killers. Their music video. When he’s twitching his arms, but he’s acting like everything’s fine.

41. Do you have any old friends would wish you could meet up with again? Yeah :( I had a super super close friend from 4th grade and we slowly drifted apart. By the time of high school we just stopped. I want to be friends with her again :((( I really miss her

42. Whats your favourite Nursery Rhyme? Idk... ring around a rosy maybe just because the context of the lyrics lol

43. Do you prefer metric or imperial measurements? Of course I’d take metric over imperial, but I’m used to it by now.

44. Who's your favourite monarch of all time?Queen Elizabeth I

45. What was the last thing you ate? These Asian things called Zong Zi in Chinese. I’m pretty sure like every country has their own version of it lol/

46. Whats your favourite farmyard animal? I love baby chickens but cows for me I guess

47. If you could choose one celebrity to be the father/mother of your child who would it be? Just someone who’s caring. Tyler Joseph

48. What would you do if someone proposed to you tomorrow? If it’s someone I like, then I’d freak out. Because I’m way too young for it.

49. What are your 3 favourite internet sites? Reddit, youtube, and uh... tumblr or wikipedia. I use tumblr mobile way often

50. How high can you jump? Never measured but definitely not that high

51. Which fictional character do you wish was real? aw man i would say a character but then that would imply their universe exists

52. Who was your first crush? PHFFT IT WAS probably Marshall Lee from the genderbent episodes of Adventure Time.

53. Whats the greatest thing about being your nationality? The food

54. Whats the least greatest thing about being your nationality? Having to explain the difference between Taiwan and China. Like. It’s understandable.

55. Do you believe in destiny, fate or free will? I kinda correlate destiny with fate. It’s a bit paradoxical. We have free will to do whatever we want, but whatever choice you make will end up being your “destiny”

56. If you could talk to one species of animal which would it be? Dogs. They just seem so happy all the time. I want to tell my dog I love him so much.

57. If you had friends round what DVD's would you have to watch? Mean Girls, Heathers, Legally Blonde, or Daria

58. Do you like vanilla or chocolate? Vanilla>>> fight me

59. Are you a giver or a receiver? Both

60. Do you have any enemies? Yeah. Me.

61. Are you scared of needles? YES YES YES

62. How many piercings do you have? Nah I was going to get my ears pierced a while ago but something came up so ever since I’ve jsut haven’t gotten it done

63. Have you ever got majorly lost trying to get somewhere? yes it was scary. Had to use google maps because I have a terrible sense of direction

64. How fast can you say the alphabet? 4 seconds

65. Do you say "Zee" or "Zed" to describe the letter Z? Zee

66. What was the last thing to make you feel happy? My dog fell asleep at my feet and I couldn’t move for the past hour but I love him

67. What was the last thing to make you feel angry? A friend of mine. I love her and all but she takes a week to respond to my texts. And I’m tired of waiting.

68. You are walking to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss told you if you are late one more time you're fired. Do you save the dog? Okay realistically I immediately call animal control or the nearest vet or something. But in some alternate universe I’d take pictures as proof, grab the dog, then get it out.

69. Are you the kind of friend you'd want to have as a friend yourself? I perceive myself as a not so great person. But my friends perceive me as a good person. So yeah. i mean, I might not text first sometimes but if smoeone texted me I’d always respond asap!

70. Do you have any questions or queries about things you're just to scared or embarrassed to ask anyone about? Do my friends like me as much as I like them? I’m so scared of that

71. If you were a wrestler what would your stage name be? and what would your special move be called? Haha maybe like Paradoxical (yes thats my blizzard tag) I’d do something like a shihonage

72. Whats the most interesting thing you can see out of your nearest window? A cat

73. Do you think Barbie is a negative role model for young girls? There’s a lot of Barbie models out there. I don’t think they’re completely bad. But there’s negative things.

74. Have you ever needed an eye test? Don’t have glasses so no. But I might need some soon at the rate of time i spend on electronics

75. Do you find yourself attractive? No. I’m just. Average.

76. Can you roll your R's? Yes

77. What social class do you consider yourself or your family background to be in? Upper middle class

78. Do you know any magic tricks? I used to but I never execute them well enough to convince anyone lol

79. Whats the largest amount of money you've ever won? I ever won? Probably like, $100 lol

80. Whats the largest amount of money you've spent in one spree? $200, if we’re not talking necessities.

81. Whats the largest amount of money you've had to borrow off of a friend or family member? I don’t borrow money. But the most from a friend was like $20 maybe.

82. Have you ever been on a cable car? Yeah, San Francisco is known for that stuff. But I’ve only been on one like, twice.

83. Do you prefer Honey or Jam? Jam! But I like honey too.

84. Do you prefer the French or Germans? Uuuuh, French?

85. How fast can you get changed? Pretty damn fast, if we’re talking my normal outfit.

86. How fast do you type? Around 98 wpm

87. How fast can you run? I’m a decent sprinter. I got 12 seconds on a 100m dash.

88. Which is better, Mario or Sonic? Mario. But both are cool

89. Whats your favourite biscuit to dunk? (im assuming british biscuit but in that case idk)

90. Which would you rather have if you had to, a broken leg or a broken arm? Arm. I like walking around.

91. Do you read a daily newspaper? Nah

92. Do you watch the news on TV? Sometimes

93. Have you ever had anything published? Nope

94. Do you believe in love at first sight? Not really. I mean, Romeo and Juliet, and Frozen has warned us right

95. How many remote controls do you have in your house? Two.

96. Have you ever been in a hot tub or sauna? Yes, and it’s hella

97. Have you ever had chicken pox? Nope. Vaccines rock

98. Do you own a lava lamp? Nah, it seems cool but I’d be too mesmerized by it