#uncle cap. ( sam )

[lightningshrikes]

Comic bros who are also not very well read in comic history are my favorite type of people to laugh at. They'll see a ship that has existed since the characters first interacted and has only gotten more and more popular, then act like it just came about because of "woke." No bro, those two guys have been sucking and fucking since before you were even born. Another great thing about uneducated "comic" bros is when they see something that is canon in comics happen in another media and they get so pissed. Dude. You're a comic fan, yeah? Then you should know that this did happen. Or, in the opposite direction, you should know this ISN'T canon in comics. Unless of course, you aren't actually a comic buff like you say you are...

[chromet]

Warbugsme

[mycenaae]

every week that ted lasso airs i think about that one presser that was like "there's a relationship straight out of fanfiction this season" and i just want to know what their favourite royjamie fic is

[toadboatt]

This "per household" bullshit is really starting to piss me the fuck off. Since when can my FAMILY *only* use my FAMILY ACCOUNT if they live in my house????? Their my FAMILY and i paid for the fucking FAMILY PLAN GODDAMNIT

[chvoswxtch]

they deserved a 32 episode season

kevin when I catch yOU KEVIN

Omg full version!!!

[hubbvrd]

first night at home | JB9

summary — It's the first night at home with your newborn daughter. When you wake up in the middle of the night and Joe is no longer lying next to you in bed, you find Joe and your newborn daughter in their baby room and what you see there melts your heart

pairing — joe burrow x reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your eyes filled with tears again as you followed Joe carrying the baby carrier with your newborn daughter into your home for the first time.

Two days ago, Amelia Grace Burrow had seen the light of day, making you and Joe the happiest of people and your family complete for the time being.

Amelia was almost a one-to-one copy of your boyfriend, she had even inherited his tangled, almost curly hair, which was clearly visible from birth as she had been born with an incredible amount of hair.

The living-dining room was adorned with colorful decorations. There were countless helium balloons in the shape of a baby bottle, a teddy bear, a princess and Amelia's name.

There was also a garland with 'Welcome home, baby & mommy' written on it. The dining table was heaped with presents and food so that you could only just make out the wooden top of the table.

"Wow," you marveled as you blinked hard at the tears that were already filling your eyes and making their way down your cheeks.

You had thought that your hormones would settle down quickly after the birth, as you had already been quite waterlogged during the pregnancy - but no way. Your hormones had been going crazy almost non-stop since the birth of your little girl, so you had already used up countless tissues and there seemed to be no end in sight.

"Did you do all that?" you looked over at Joe, who carefully placed the baby carrier on the couch and squatted down in front of it.

Amelia had slept all the way from the hospital to your home, which you were quite grateful for - because you had been terrified of the first car journey.

It probably hadn't been the best idea to read the experiences of other mothers on various websites, as most of them had described the first car journey with a newborn as the 'horror ride'.

But Amelia seemed to have been a calm and contented baby not only in the hospital, but also on the car journey and even now, as she continued to slumber soundly in her seat.

"The decoration? Yes. The gifts and food are from a few neighbors, but most of the things are from my teammates - most of them really went overboard with the gifts. I'm sure one or two of them will spoil Amelia as she gets older," he laughed, whereupon you joined in with his laughter.

Because you could imagine all too well how much Joe's team colleagues would spoil your daughter.

Ja'Marr, Tee and Sam in particular had adored the little one ever since they had known you were having a daughter.

The three of them had even been on hand to help set up the baby's room and had already bought countless cute outfits for Mini Burrow (including, of course, a Mini Burrow jersey from each of them so that she could - according to the boys - support her favorite uncle).

As you laughed, you began to feel your abdomen tighten slightly in pain. Even though the birth had not brought any complications, you had a painful pulling sensation in your abdomen from time to time, which was normal according to the doctors at the hospital, so you lay down on the soft cushions of the sofa next to the baby seat.

Joe carefully undid the baby seat belt and then took out your daughter, who was quite tiny, and sat down on the sofa next to you with her in his arms.

Amelia's eyes were closed and there was a pacifier in her mouth that was almost bigger than her face.

A Bengals cap sat on her head - how could it be any different, of course, because according to Joe she had to be taken directly to her favorite team.

"She's so tiny," you gushed quietly as a tear began to roll down your cheek.

You still couldn't believe your happiness about your little family, which you had wished for since you were little - it would certainly take some time before it happened.

"And so beautiful, like her mommy," Joe added, causing a soft sob to leave your lips.

"I love you so much," Joe breathed, as seconds later he carefully put his free arm around you so that your head found its place on his shoulder, where you had an even better view of the sweet little creature lying perfectly in Joe's arm, sucking on her pacifier and leaning.

"We love you too. So much," you whispered softly before your eyes drifted shut from sheer exhaustion and you too fell into a peaceful sleep.

—

You were startled out of your sleep by a scream, so that you sat up straight in bed and looked around in the dark bedroom, which was only lit by a faint ray of light from the street lamp.

You could still remember falling asleep next to Joe on the sofa. But you couldn't remember getting into bed on your own, so Joe must have carried you up and put you to bed.

But before you could turn the covers aside and swing your feet on the bed, Joe was already jumping out of bed.

"I'm going, go back to sleep," he breathed softly to you and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before pushing you back onto the mattress and putting the covers back over you.

And the moment your head touched the pillow, you were already asleep again.

It was crazy how little you slept with a newborn and how quickly you fell asleep once you'd taken care of the baby or your partner took over.

But you wouldn't trade anything for the chance to sleep through the night again.

—

The next time you woke up and looked to your left, Joe still wasn't back.

A glance at your cell phone, which was lying next to you on the bedside table, told you that it was only 4:55am.

Carefully, your hand touched the empty side of the bed next to you, which was quite cold, so you knew that Joe must have been with your daughter for some time.

Even though you couldn't hear a sound - not even Amelia's crying - you decided to check and relieve Joe, because maybe Amelia needed her mommy now.

The wooden floor creaked softly under your bare feet as you followed the source of light coming from Amelia's nursery.

The closer you got to the baby's room, which was by far the most loving room and your favorite room in the whole house, you heard Joe's soft voice.

So as not to elicit another creak from the floor, you tiptoed the last few meters over to the bright room with the flowery wallpaper, where you leaned slightly against the door frame and took a look inside the room.

On the cozy armchair in the middle of the baby's room, Joe sat with Amelia in his arms and handed her the bottle, from which Amelia drank greedily.

Joe gently rocked the two of them back and forth while his hand held the bottle and his index finger stroked your daughter's tiny hand.

This sight made your heart warm up and your heart skip a little. It really was a beautiful view that almost brought new tears to your eyes - but only almost.

"You're really hungry, huh?" he asked softly as a smile spread across his lips.

"That's good, you'll be a big and strong girl. But do you know what you already are? My sweet girl. My sweet girl, who I will always protect. Come what may. I will also make sure that no boy will ever break your heart and if he hurts you because of Uncle Ja'Marr, I will make sure that he suffers. But also the whole team will always make sure that you don't get hurt. Because they are family. They are your uncles. You'll never be alone..I promise you that,A."

The quarterback leaned in slightly to kiss your daughter's little forehead, causing Amelia to let out a soft sweet sound.

A wide smile crept onto your lips and you couldn't stand there any longer, just watching the two of them.

You crossed a few steps before you reached Joe and Amelia, who had just finished the last of the bottle and now had a wide grin on her lips, which seemed to grow twice as big when she spotted you.

"You've discovered mommy. She probably couldn't sleep anymore because I wasn't there and you've completely taken over me" Joe grinned as he gently tickled your daughter's tummy and then put her over his shoulder for a burp and patted her gently on the back.

"How long have you been awake?" you asked Joe as you carefully adjusted the burp cloth lying on his shoulder.

"I don't know, half an hour?"

"Why didn't you wake me up? I would have done it already. You got up earlier..."

You were slightly plagued by guilt, because before you went home, you had both agreed that you would take turns whenever Amelia cried or was hungry so that you both got enough sleep.

"Hey, babe..." his voice sounded soft as he reached for your hand and stroked the back of it. "You slept so deeply and I wanted you to get some sleep after the exhausting birth two days ago. I'm fine, really. My tiredness has been blown away. I mean look at her, she's mesmerizing me."

Joe's gushing caused him to start yawning softly and it was only now that you saw clearly how deep the circles under his eyes actually looked.

"Come back to bed. Let's cuddle up in our bed as a family. And when you fall asleep, you'll sleep through the night" you promised your boyfriend and together you made your way back to the bedroom, where the three of you snuggled into bed.

Joe lying on his back, with Amelia curled up on his chest, who already seemed to be in a milk coma, with your head in the crook of his neck.

And it wasn't long before the two of you drifted back to sleep overjoyed and you could hardly wait to start the next day together as a family.

[ijenoyou]

Ojos lindos.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

WARNINGS: none rlly i think it’s just some nice fluff strangers to friends :3

note: helllowwwww it’s been a while since i’ve written sum for marvel lol anywayssss i rlly enjoyed the new cap movie!! and def did enjoy danny ramirez as the new falcon :3 so yeah i hope yall like this ohhh and if i like this storyline enough i’ll probably make it into a series ;) OH also the reader is supposed to be iron heart !!

Since Sam needed a new team for the Avengers the very first person that came to his mind, aside from Joaquín, was you. You definitely had Tony Stark’s brilliant mind and that helped you build your own suit not wanting to use the one your father made you while you were stuck in the Blip.

And Sam needs someone like that, smart, strong and brave. So when you offered to help him rebuild the team he was more than happy that you did. And he even was more happier to the fact that he got to see you. Since the passing of Tony Stark you disappeared leaving him with the wonder of where you went.

But you had to. Thanos had blasted you with the power of all the stones the moment he saw you get ahold of the gauntlet not knowing that the mixture of the power would cause your body to absorbe it.

So you had new powers, one’s that are quite hard to control, so you did what was safe to the people you care for which was disappear.

But now all was good, your powers are more than safe to use now that you know your way around them. And when Sam found out about the things you could do he knew in his heart he should take you under his wing just like he did with Joaquín Torres.

“She told we could have any room we want.” Sam told Joaquín when they arrived to the old Avengers base.

The both of them grabbed their own baggage and began walking inside the building.

Joaquín’s eyes were shining like crazy. He always thought being an Avenger wasn’t something in his path.

“Uncle Sam!” You said as soon as you saw them walking to the area that had all the old rooms the old team used. You arrived earlier since you wanted to clean up the area for the new arrivals.

Sam smiled and left his things on the floor, he then extended his arms signaling for you to hug him. Since you were quite far holding a broom you decided to teleport.

Joaquín hadn’t seen something like that. The pink glow that appeared in front of him when you appeared of the blue was something that surprised him and it made him lift the right corner of his lip, amused to the fact you were clearly too lazy to walk a few steps to greet Sam.

“So, this is my new child, also known as the new Falcon, Joaquín Torres.” Sam said while grabbing Joaquín’s shoulder.

Your eyes traveled towards him and smiled. You looked different from what he was used to. One of your eyes had a pink glow and the other didn’t, he tried not to let his thoughts show on his face after seeing your new appearance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sam’s been talking a lot about you since we were on our way.” Joaquín said while reaching his hand out for you to shake. “I’m a big fan of your work, I was a volunteer on the charity you created a few months ago.”

Your smile became even bigger at the mention of the charity you created in honor of the fallen Avengers.

“Really? Thank you so much! I thought I recognized your face from somewhere else.” You said with a sweet tone. “People usually tell me about my father’s work and not mine so thank you, really.” You shook his hand.

Warm.

That’s what he felt inside him when he touched you. He noticed how small your hand was compared to his and how soft your skin felt against his calloused palm.

The both of you didn’t notice how Sam walked out the scene and began searching for a specific room. He wanted the one Steve used since he heard amazing stories about the incredible shower head pressure.

“Want help finding a room?” You said while taking one of this bags from the floor.

“Oh don’t worry I’ll take it!” He tried to take the bag from you.

Too late. You had already teleported a few feet away from him with a playful smile.

“Come! I think you might like this room.”

He smiled and nodded.

He walked behind you for a few moments when you stopped in front of a door that had the number 10 on it. You pushed a few numbers on the pad that was next to the door and the door opened by sliding.

“This one used to be one of my favorite rooms. “ You said with a soft tone.

You left Joaquín’s bag on an old chair and turned to him with your hand on your hips.

“You like it? The view here is amazing, my favorite out of all the rooms.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. This room had a perfect view to the forest that connected to the base, he couldn’t help but notice how big the room is. Way bigger than he ever imagined with huge windows and a balcony that already had some furniture on it.

“I really do.” He left his things on the floor next to the old chair and walked to stand next to you. Admiring the view.

“My father built quite a lot of rooms for everyone.” You said. “He wanted everyone living under the same roof.” You smiled at the memory of the old team fighting to get the nicest rooms over the base.

Joaquín turned to see you.

You not noticing that he much preferred to have you as the increíble view you mentioned instead of the forest.

“Que ojos tan lindos.” He didn’t realized what he said until you turned towards him with a lifted eyebrow and small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You think? I’m still getting used to the new color but it’s quite cool.” He didn’t know you understood spanish. A blush began spreading to his face and his right hand scratched the back of his neck with a bashful smile.

“Sorry I just..” He tried to speak but being caught red handed specially by you made him lose control of his words.

“It’s fine!” Your shoulder pushed his. “I don’t mind people looking at my eye, I mean, the staring was bound to happen.” You explained and began walking away from him. “I’ll let you get settled okay? Dinner’s at 8! I’m cooking enchiladas, hope that’s okay.”

Joaquín nodded. “I love enchiladas.” You gave him a thumbs up and walked out the room.

He turned again and stared at the windows for a few seconds until he registered what you said about the staring. He quickly turned on his heel and sprinted to the hall. “For the record I wasn’t staring at your eye! I was just admiring them!” He shouted for you to hear.

A big laugh was all he hear from down the hall. He smiled and turned which caused him to have a mini heart attack at the sight of Sam behind him.

“Dude! Make some noise the next time you stand behind me.” Joaquín said while putting a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat at a fast pace.

Sam made a face at him. That damn look Sam had almost all of the time when he found something cheeky. Like he knew a secret about you.

“You and little Stark became friends really fast uh?” Was all he said while crossing his arms over his chest.

[ ]

A plate of enchiladas appeared in front of Joaquín and Sam’s eyes.

“Here you go!” You said while sitting in front of them at the aisle of the kitchen instead of the big dinning room. You had said it felt way bigger with just the three of you, but Sam reassured you that with time and effort that would soon change.

“So, do you know when Bucky’s coming?” Sam asked while cutting his enchiladas.

You nodded, your hand reaching for a napkin. “Yes! He told me he’s coming next week after he visits the wakandians for a new update on his arm.” You explained after taking a big gulp of your iced coca cola. “He’s been staying up here with me for a while so his room is already set up.”

That caught Joaquín’s full attention and Sam noticed. Sam decided to play a little game with the knowledge he now has. His new child had a crush on little Stark. Oh my, how small the world is.

“Really? And what do you guys do? I’m assuming is just the two of you.” Sam told you with a cheeky sneer.

Your cheeks became flushed and that made Joaquín furrow his eyebrows, just a little.

“Well we just spend time next to one another you know? Sometimes I’ll be reading and he would be sitting next to me while he learns how to share a TikTok.” You explained with your eyes locked on your food.

Sam lifted an eyebrows and began asking more things to get a rise out of Joaquín. “How nice of him, right Joaquín?” Sam elbowed him causing him to cough.

“Oh? Yeah…”

“He doesn’t stay a lot.” You explained sensing the weird tension in the air. “He sometimes comes when I tell him I miss my father.”

The strings of Joaquín’s heart were pulled. He couldn’t imagine what you felt. From what Sam told him, it was just you and Tony Stark. He then met Pepper and became partners but for a while it was just the two of you, against everything.

He knew your father was your rock, he was all you had since your mother died while giving birth, the doctors not noticing she was having an internal bleeding causing her to slip away without too much fuss. The info being shared by Sam.

“But now, you two are here so I won’t be feeling as lonely as before.” Sam nodded as the same time Joaquín did.

After dinner Sam had to take a call from the White House, leaving you with Joaquín to wash all of the dirty dishes you used.

It was nice. Joaquín felt a cozy vibe coming from the moment, soft jazz music playing on the background, you next to him drying the plates with a cloth he would give you after he scrubbed them.

“I totally think he faked that call because he didn’t want to help wash the dishes.” You said playfully.

A laughed erupted from Joaquín’s chest and nodded. “For sure! I mean did you see the look he gave us when he stood up?”

Now it was your time to laugh. “That damn look he has! It’s like he knows something about you, isn’t it?” The both of you exploded of laughter. Making fun of Sam was one of your favorite hobbies now that he was more present in your life.

“Thank you for the compliment by the way.” He heard you say while putting the last plate on its designated place. “Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos.”

He almost choked when he heard those words coming past your lips.

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish.” He explained bashful.

“Tony made me learn quite a handful of languages when I was a kid.” You told him. “Spanish was my favorite by far, I think it’s a very romantic language, don’t you think?”

“It sure is.” Was all he said while turning his body to you.

The both of you didn’t notice how close your bodies were. He could feel the warmth coming from your body, that’s how close he was to you. He could see with clear perfection every lash and every beauty mark on your face. His eyes stopping their path on yours. Joaquín could see the pink glow with perfection and it felt like time stopped.

He wasn’t attracted to your eyes just because of the pink color but because he felt really seen under your gaze. It felt like you were going under every inch and corner of his mind, leaving your mark in it.

And you felt the same thing.

“I-I think it’s quite late, isn’t it?” Your voice brought him back to reality.

He stepped back, instantly missing the warmth of your body. He cleared his throat and sighed.

“Oh right.” He spoke. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Your lips curled and nodded. “Of course.” Your voice came out almost as a whisper. “I’m off to sleep, if you need anything my room is next to yours actually.”

He bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Okay then, sleep well mini Stark.” That damned nickname Thor gave you years ago made your skin tickle. A funny feeling forming inside your chest.

**

Que ojos tan lindos - what beautiful eyes

Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos - I also think you have beautiful eyes

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

@dr-reids-fidget-toy#omg I didn’t know that about comic bucky that’s rlly cool

Starting a new post because I have off-topic Thoughts. Comic!Bucky contains fascinating commentary on the Cold War, WWII, and the media representations thereof. MCU!Bucky is (by necessity) pretty watered down. In the Brubaker comics, Bucky isn't brainwashed, at least not in the classic Marvel sense. He's just this guy who believes in the absolute rightness of his country, and has been in combat to support the U.S. since age ~14... and then he gets blown up by a missile, loses his memory, and Department X tells him "his country" is the USSR. So now he's the Winter Soldier. Nothing else about his personality or his politics changes. The Winter Soldier we see in the Brubaker comics is definitely a villain — he kills indiscriminately, kidnaps civilians to get his way, murders Rick Jones out of petty spite. But his personality is basically the same from childhood.

This is Steve remembering Bucky as a kid during WWII:

Brubaker retcons Bucky's role, from "kid sidekick who rushes in first and gets kidnapped, needing Captain America to rescue him," to "kid agent who infiltrates bases first, so that Captain America can follow him." With the memory loss, Bucky goes from slitting throats and setting off bombs for Uncle Sam, to doing it for Mother Russia. He's always been as cold and as willing to kill witnesses as he is as the Winter Soldier. It just never made the news reals.

And that's the other half of his retconned role: being propaganda for other child soldiers (e.g. Toro) who join up in his wake. This is Bucky and Steve watching a Cap and Bucky recruitment newsreel:

As an adult, the real difference isn't that Bucky is Soviet now; it's that he doesn't have Steve holding his leash anymore. To be clear, comic Winter Soldier also isn't free to come and go as he pleases — he's kept in a freezer between missions, he's probably not paid, he's in Department X — but he also has far more agency within the latitude of his orders. He's not dead-eyed and tortured by guilt like we see in the MCU. He goes on side quests to kill other Buckies. He argues constantly with Aleksander Lukin (the comic equivalent of Pierce). He complains about the inconvenience of not just sniping Steve in the head to steal the Tesseract.

Brubaker's point, throughout the comic, is that we have been lied to about World War II being "noble" or "good" or the story of the U.S. saving the day. And that that lie is used to prop up everything from U2 spy planes built with 100x the budget for education, to the Patriot Act nullifying the Fourth Amendment. Because not only is "WWII was a noble war fought without atrocities" nationalistic bullshit, but "Soviets are fundamentally different from us" is too. Bucky's continuity of character reveals both at once. He's a walking Soviet superweapon. Why? Because he was a walking American superweapon first, starting before he was old enough to shave.

Anyway, I get why the MCU had to change his backstory. You have to a) remind the audience who Bucky is, b) show-don't-tell why Steve is sad Bucky is trying to kill him, c) get across the idea that Bucky doesn't want to kill Steve but feels he has to, d) use Bucky to develop Steve's character, and e) set up a way for Bucky to get un-brainwashed. All within the span of ~30 minutes this movie has for this plot, amidst all the other plots. MCU!Bucky plaintively asking Pierce who Steve was, only to get slapped in the face, is sort of like AniTV!Tom constantly pawing at his ear: it quickly gets across that this character isn't acting under his own volition, in a way that minimizes audience confusion.

Plus: it's a Hollywood movie. It wouldn't get funded if it was too critical of the U.S. military. Movies are always, by definition, more conservative than other media because of their need for funding. And the MCU makes a decent effort to incorporate at least some criticism of the U.S., having Zola be involved in Operation Paperclip and having him (while working for the U.S.) order Howard Stark's murder. But a computer ghost reciting dry facts about the CIA recruiting Nazis doesn't have the same gut punch as watching the "good guys" send the literal child to knife his fellow child soldiers during WWII would have had.

[amethystarachnid]

BUCKY BARNES AS A GIRL DAD - a drabble

Everyone stop what you're doing and imagine Bucky Barnes as a girl dad.

When you first tell him that you're pregnant he's shocked because of all the experiments HYDRA did on him he thought he couldn't have kids

Then he's shocked because he realizes he's going to be a dad. He. A killer, the man who killed thousands of people.

He's terrified by the thought of not being a good dad so you have to convince him he's going to be a great dad because he's not the winter soldier anymore, he's just Bucky. The love of your life.

Starts studying pregnancy books like he has an exam on them. believe me when I say that this man could have a degree by the end of the nine months.

Baby Shower. He really didn't care if the baby in your belly was a boy or a girl but when he saw the pink cream inside the cake he felt his heart skip a beat. A little girl, oh how much he hoped for her to look just like you.

Built the nursery from scratch, painted it al pink with little stars on the ceiling.

I think he would like the name Estelle and if you'd agree that would be the little girl's name.

When you go into labour this man freaks out, he has seen lots of things in his life but seeing you in pain while giving birth made him feel guilty for putting a baby in you.

When he holds her for the first time he's scared to hurt her, maybe his metallic arm is too hard for her little head to rest on? Is his metallic hand too cold on her little face?

He's completely smitten by her, she's not even two days old when she has him wrapped around her little chubby fingers.

When he noticed that she has his blue eyes he was on the verge of crying.

How could a monster like him make such a perfect little angel?

As soon as Estelle starts babbling he has his phone out to record everything. He just wants to remember those little moments forever.

When she starts walking and can actually play he spends his days playing with her: with a ball, with dolls, with the toy kitchen, with her on his shoulders.

When Estelle says 'Dada' for the first time this man is in tears repeating 'my baby girl called me dada, I'm her dada..."

Once she can talk she gives nicknames to everyone, Steve is Uncle Cap, Sam is Uncle Birdie, Tony is Uncle Iron, Natasha is Aunt red (because of her hair).

Bucky totally plays princess tea party with her, in a tutu and with a full face of toy make up.

"Uncle Cap and Uncle Birdie, come play tea with me and Daddy!" Estelle would say.

Steve would agree immediately while Sam needed an harsh look from Bucky.

First day of kindergarten? Estelle is happily going inside the new classroom, happy to make new friends while Bucky is in tears.

"She didn't give me a goodbye kiss..."

She wants to take dance lessons? They're paid.

She wants to swim? He's already on his way to buy a swimsuit.

Bucky would let her choose the sport she wants but she has to take self defense lessons too, maybe taught by Natasha.

The first boy that breaks her heart has a broken arm and probably some trauma. (I'm joking...am I?)

Estelle is pretty free to go out but she has to tell him in advance just to let him know.

When she leaves for college he helps her move out and tells her to kick a boy between the legs if they treat her bad. Or simply give a call to him and he would run to her.

Probably with Steve right behind him.

Damn this was long, sorry but I love soft Bucky, my man deceivers happiness after everything he went through :(

Would you like me to do this but with the other Avengers / x-Men? You can also make requests if you want!

Check out my masterlist! <3

[samwilson-official]

My nephews are no longer allowed to call me Uncle Sam. From now on I am Uncle Samual or Uncle Cap because Bucky won’t stop laughing whenever they call me Sam.

[donteverblameash]

A few SamBucky headcanons because I love them sm like OML-

(Headcanons under the cut :)

-Sam and Bucky will be married with 3 kids and still call each other "Man"

-Sam and Bucky bicker quite a bit. Nothing serious but "SAM GET YOUR DIRTY UNDERWARE OFF THE FLOOR-"

-Sam absolutely loves passing his phone to Bucky when he's facetiming his friends like "Bucky, say hi!" And just watching Bucky hold the phone at the world's most awkward angle and wave "Hiii...."

-When Bucky at last gets a hand on modern tech his entire phone is just SAM. His lockscreen? Sam. His first contact? Sam. His photo album? Sam. His phone pin? SAM'S BIRTHDAY

-Bucky also just loves sending Sam random pics throughout the day and Sam is like "Yup. That's that ❤️"

-Sam is a "You know you love me 😏" kind of person and Bucky is a "Yuh huh. Sure 😒" Kind of person.

-Bucky kisses gently and soft. Sam kisses hard and fast.

-Bucky and Sam's wedding consisted of a quick trip to the courthouse and cake and ice cream back in Lousiana.

-They could not decide on the last name for the life of them, so they just kept their last names

-Bucky loves Lousiana. He feels so at home and accepted there. And he is a hit with the kids he's the cool metal arm guy, duh. Sam's nephews run up to him, yelling, "UNCLE BUCKY!!!" And it just makes Bucky beam to know that they're happy to see him.

-Sam and Bucky have a habit of bickering about home things in the middle of missions. "Did you leave the milk out?!" "Uh, yeah, cuz you took it out, and I'm not putting it back in!"

-The first time Bucky properly burst out laughing in the modern day is when Sarah pulled out the old pictures of Sam at 15 with braces and all chubby. Bucky wasn't making fun of him. He was just so shocked, and he practically cooed over the pictures.

-Conversations in the Barnes/Wilson home consist of things like "Get Redwing out of my hair!" And "MAN WHY THE FRICK IS YOUR ARM IN THE GODDAMN DISHWASHER?!"

-Sam is ACTIVE online. Sometimes he's cooking bigots in twt comment sections or leaving comments on cool fan edits but most of the time he is posting a bunch of him and Bucky's life together, he even does insta lives and everyone keeps on asking "CAP WHERES SARGENT BARNES?!?" and Sam just laughs like,"He's asleep right now, man."

-Every day, Sam reminds Bucky how wonderful he thinks he is.

-Every day, Bucky reminds Sam how much he loves him.

I MAY MAKE MORE 🗣🗣🔥🔥🗣🔥🔥🗣🔥🗣🗣🔥🔥🗣

[firstelevens]

Top 5 Self-Rec Game

@sambambucky and @sunsetmaidenwrites were kind enough to tag me to share my favorite 5 Sam/Bucky fics that I've written. I'm not sure who's left who'd like to share their work, but if you see this and you were looking for an excuse, consider yourself tagged!

sugar pie, honey bunch | 55k | au (no powers)

Three years ago, Sam and Bucky competed together on The Great American Bake Off. They baked cakes, made pies, and bantered enough to fill multiple fifteen minute YouTube compilations. Now they're back for an all-star season, with new competitors, tentative alliances, and some very opinionated viewers. OR The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but make it The Great British Bake Off.

counted days, counted miles | 2.5k

Separated for months by Captain America duties and missions with the Thunderbolts, Sam and Bucky somehow still manage to keep up their domestic squabbles, browbeat each other into taking care of themselves, and deal with their not-strictly-platonic feelings. A story told in correspondence.

if you got the notion (i second that emotion) | 5.4k

If there is a field that Sam’s kind of an expert in at this point, it’s admiring a good view: earth from the deck of the Guardians’ new spaceship, the skyline of Birnin Zana against the mountains in the distance, lightning bugs flitting around the backyard as the sun dips behind the trees. Now, on a breezy May afternoon, Sam stands a little ways away and considers the deadliest assassin of the twentieth century as he watches a middle school choir performance, and not a great one at that. Sam and Bucky go to a carnival and feel some feelings.

outlaw life looks pretty wholesome | 14.8k | au (canon divergence)

Rescued from a HYDRA base by the Avengers, a rehabilitated Bucky runs covert missions for Nick Fury by night and is one half of a cheerful, cat-owning couple in an exclusive DC apartment building by day. When he gets called out on a mission to protect an important asset, the second-to-last thing he expects to see is a baby. The actual last thing he expects to see is his ostensibly-civilian husband Sam, wielding his own secret agent badge and ready to run point with Bucky on this new mission. Now they just have to hole up in a house in the suburbs, take care of an adorable baby, and try not to collapse under the weight of everything they haven't said over the course of their marriage. Easy.

pretty poses, rows of roses | 11.2k words

"The only thing Sam’s worrying about right now is how he’s gonna hold onto his cool uncle status while telling people to—what did your mom say? Leave room for Jesus?” In the mirror, Cass’s eyes go wide in horror. “If either one of you says that to anybody I know, I’m gonna have to run away and change my name and join the circus. Is that what you want?” Bucky pretends to think about it. “Would you at least be able to get us free tickets?” On leave from Team Cap and the Thunderbolts respectively, Sam and Bucky face their most fraught mission yet: chaperoning prom.

Honorable mentions to midnight driving with the windows down, which is the first fic in my Sam/Bucky Formula 1 AU, and the bells stand still and hollow, which is my Dungeons and Dragons AU and is still a work in progress!

[eunoiaastralwings]

Baby Shark

featuring bucky, his little James Jr and Sam

fandom mcu- tfatws era

a/n I really I might. . .just might turn this into a mini series

part 1 - but read alone too

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

The song was playing on Bucky’s TV screen the past hour now.

James Jr seemingly enjoying the song – and watching it happily, nestled next to Bucky on his lap with his uncle Sam next to him too.

The two men stared at the screen in frustration as it was the only thing the baby currently wanted to watch.

You were out on a small mission – today out all days when the basketball game Bucky and Sam wanted to watch would be on soon enough.

“. . .How many times have we already watched this?”

Sam asked – frustrated and glaring at the screen as the son continued to play.

It was stuck in his head now – probably would be able to mutter it in his sleep.

 Bucky is almost having full blown sensory overload.

He looks dead inside.

The sounds of Baby Shark song are making his brain boil. He feels like his head is going to explode.

Bucky can't handle it. He hates this song so much.

“I’m so sick of this song!”

 Sam groans.

“I hate sharks now!”

He mutters – as the song keep playing.

Bucky is not listening. He is focused on staring at the tv screen with a blank expression.

He is internally begging for this torture to end.

Bucky’s 2-month baby – however – happily chortles giggles as he continues to watch the song.

You had named your son James Steven Barnes together, after Bucky’s first name of James and of course Steve, or Cap’s name for his middle name– but you took the liberty of nicknaming your son Jay – while you were at it too.

Bucky’s head swivels at the sound. He looks back over at the little child.

He watches the child chortle with a faint smile on his face.

Sam looks over at Bucky.

“The game is about to start.”

He says – “Do you think Jay will let us change the channel now?”

“. . .Maybe if we distract him enough. . ."

Bucky mutters.

Bucky stares back at his son – a bit irritated, but also intrigued and a bit amused by his son’s cuteness.

The moment Bucky leans in and takes the remote his 2-month son whines seeing his dad pick up the remote.

For a 2-month baby, he was smart.

“Oh for the. . .”

Bucky sighs in disbelief.

“You've got to be kidding me, James! Of all the days for him to be attached to this damn song!”

Bucky holds the remote in his hand, looking at it in frustration.

Jay son didn’t stop his whines until Bucky let go off the remote.

Bucky feels bad for trying to change the channel on his son and giving him distress.

He doesn’t know what to do.

His son is adorable – but he also doesn’t want to watch Baby Shark again. He looks back over at his son, a mixture of amusement and frustration on his face.

Sam sighs.

“Alright! Watch it for the rest your life kid!”

He says to Bucky’s 2-month baby.

“This kid. . .”

Bucky thinks to himself.

“Why... Just why?”

He asks as his baby son continues to watch the song intently.

Bucky watches with a slightly annoyed but overall amused expression.

Sam rolls his eyes as Bucky started to annoyingly mutter out the song.

“Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo – Oh for... I just can’t!”

Bucky shakes his head. He can’t help but be impressed by how much of a little smart ass his son is already.

He lets out a soft chuckle, even though he is still annoyed that his son won’t let him change the channel.

“Definitely got it from his mother. . .”

Bucky mutters.

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark. . .

[kremlin]

An earnest call for your support: Help me determine if there is a gas leak in my house.

for a long time now, I have been reading and hearing about This Guy on the news, and have been reading all the articles and stories about him:

Above: Sam, tenting his weird-ass fucked up fingers like a real Wall Street Guy might do in a movie he saw

Yep, you already know this guy, his name is Sam, I'll be referring to him as Sam, as that is his first name, and not by his initials, which is what I imagine a pod person might do in an attempt to emulate human behaviour. Whatever. You already know him and what he did, I won't waste your time. Listen. Pay attention. This is not a post about this guy or what he did. That shit is boring as fuck. This is a post about a potential gas leak in my house. We'll get to that in just a bit. Remember.

I've read all the articles and all the op-eds and everything. About Sam. Let us explore the entire spectrum of media coverage of Sam and Sam's Big Ass Problem, starting from the bottom, with the worm-food-tier jackasses: What do people like Jim Cramer and Shark Tank Guy have to say about him?

Above: CNN's "Mad Money" Jim Cramer also doing a weird hand gesture while he tells your alcoholic cable-news-addicted uncle to put his money in some dumbass shit

Above: I think this is the Shark Tank guy? I don't remember his name. Could have sworn his suit had dollar signs and not question marks (?)

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam is a boy genius who is super duper smart and can move objects with his massive brain due to knowing about Tech, FinDom FinTech, and computer money, specifically Money Coding. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court".

Moving on from the worm-food-tier to the mediocre-tier: The totally nameless basic bitch journalists at the New York Times or Bloomberg. What do these assholes have to say?

Above: Jim Fuckface, associate financial correspondent for Bloomberg. Jim enjoys winding down on a Friday afternoon by sipping a Bud Lite Lime and wearing his baseball cap backwards, which bears the logo of his local professional sports team.

Above: Kate Fuckface, columnist at the New York Times. Kate enjoys spending her time chatting and interacting with her friends on Social Media Platforms like Facebook and Instagram, as well as purchasing items on Etsy

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Displaying the characteristic awkwardness of incredible technical and financial genius, it was clear to me during our interview that Sam's depth of knowledge truly knew no bounds. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

Finally moving on to the people that might actually have a clue about what they're talking about. Sam Levine and Michael Lewis:

Above: Matt Levine, author of a comedy email newsletter named Money Stuff that is 95% financial information by weight and somehow still usually funny as fuck.

Above: Michael Lewis, author of a bunch of really good books you haven't read that were made into pretty decent movies you have seen: Moneyball and The Big Short.

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam sure is a smart kid and seems to know a whole lot about economics and this digital currency, and I mean a whole lot, and even more about business, accounting, and finance. Bright kid! Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

A pretty goddamn clear consensus across the board on both counts.

I listened to the interviews the entire spectrum of people listed above conducted with him -- the ones during which they unanimously concluded how smart he is. I listened to many hours of ad-hoc, unscripted Twitter Space calls he participated in, where he fielded questions about his fraud and his business with complete strangers. I listened to them very carefully. And here is my problem! I came to a different conclusion!

Sam is a fucking moron. I am not talking about solely his intellect, or solely his decision-making abilities, or any specific criteria. I am talking about all of them.

There are two possibilities:

(A) I am correct and, somehow, literally everyone else is incorrect, most of whom know vastly more about these topics than I do

(B) There is a fucking gas leak in my house and I have completely lost all cognitive abilities, suddenly and unwittingly, and exist in a cartoon reality inside my skull that would allow me to reach such a wildly different conclusion from the same evidence.

The likelihood of (A) being correct is very nearly 0%. I mean, come on. I am not fucking around when I tell you how troubling this is for me. I wrote earlier that this isn't a post about Sam or his bullshit. This is a post asking for your help in determining whether I have lost my god damn marbles.

I'll give Sam one thing -- he has some nominal ability to bullshit. If he's writing a Tweet, or making a short statement, he can finesse his words that, on some level, mask how much of a dimwit he is. He absolutely can't do that through about six hours of unscripted interviews. Listen to that shit. Listen.

I am going to go check all the joints in the gas lines in my house as well as the ports on my stove and heater. I'll come back and write a follow-up post on outlining exactly why I think homeboy is an idiot. While I do that, please, go listen to the interviews and tell me what you think.

[abarbaricyalp]

Strawberries and Cigarettes (always taste like you)

Title from Troye Sivan

Bucky smoked like a chimney. It didn't matter how many times Sam said they'd figured out it was bad for you. Mostly because Bucky had a super soldier serum that made him think he was invincible. Sam had sat next to him on a Brooklyn balcony one night that they both couldn't sleep and watched Bucky go through an entire carton without coming up for air. He always had a cigarette behind his ear, waiting to be lit. A lighter in his pocket, even during missions. It wasn't like it was to help with anxiety or whatever. The dude was jumpy and jittery even while he was smoking. And Sam had never really seen him jonesing for a smoke break, but he took one every chance he got.

He'd asked Bucky to stop smoking around him because Sam didn't have a super soldier serum to save his lungs, which Bucky was slightly gracious about. Gracious up until the point that Sam slunk over because the smell of the smoke and Bucky's shampoo and his leather jacket was addictive, and then he was all smirks and silent 'I-told-you-so's. It at least put him in the habit of asking before he lit up. It really didn't help that he looked like a modern Marlborough man ad come to life. He was desperately alluring and sexy when he smoked. It was woefully unfair that such a foul hobby was so damn hot.

(Oddly enough, the grace came back on the rare nights that Sam sat beside him and wordlessly held out his hand for a cigarette too.)

Sam didn't condone the habit, but he didn't exactly hide Bucky's cartons from him or give him an ultimatum either. Hell, Bucky's smokes were usually on his grocery list when he knew the guy was going to be around.

"Hey, have you noticed if Buck's low on cigarettes?" Sam asked Sarah while she compiled her own list to send him with.

She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Bucky doesn't smoke," she said. "I've never seen him even hold a cigarette."

Sam frowned and thought before making an answer. After four decades, he'd found it was best not to argue with Sarah about something that may have an objective truth to it. He rarely beat her at this game.

True, he had woken up a few weeks ago, last time Bucky had been around, with the glaring thought that Bucky smelled good next to him. Not like smoke, but a clean, fresh smell. He'd chalked it up to him showering the evening before and not getting up throughout the night. And true that Bucky had a fidget in Louisiana that Sam never noticed anywhere else, where he flipped the cap of his lighter continuously or tumbled the lighter through his fingers. But he never actually lit anything with it. And true, he didn't smoke on the boat. And true, he'd never asked Sam where the cheapest cigs around were (a constant hunt in New York).

Bucky didn't smoke down here, Sam realized with a start. And he never smelled like smoke because he had a whole new wardrobe in Sam's house. Sarah had never seen him smoke.

Sam made for the backdoor, grocery list discarded. Sarah called after him, but he didn't quite catch it--something about the zucchini she needed him to remember and also lollipops--and he went out back.

Judging from the way Bucky had an arm around Cass's center, and AJ was rolling on the ground with laughter, and the swing set was still rocking up and down as Bucky held Cass still, Sam had a feeling he'd interrupted an attempt at swinging the swing all the way around the top of the set. Bucky looked much guiltier than either child, but it was Cass who insisted, "We weren't doing anything!"

Sam leveled a stare at him, but he knew these boys were forged under Sarah's gaze and nothing Sam had in his arsenal was going to be half as effective.

"Why don't you two head inside?" Bucky suggested, still looking guilty. "Your Uncle Sam and I were just about to head into town."

The boys grumbled their objections, but it only took them a few steps before they were jostling each other and starting a game of tag that would absolutely get them in trouble inside. Once the door was shut, Sam looked to Bucky again.

"No one was going to get hurt," he insisted sheepishly, wrapping the chain of the swing around one arm to lean his weight against it.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Sam asked without preamble.

Bucky's got-caught frown turned into a confused one. On muscle memory, but with no conviction, he patted his front pocket with his other hand. "I don't have any on me," he admitted with a shrug.

"Why not?" Sam asked.

Bucky flushed prettily, looking away from Sam in embarrassment. "I didn't wanna do it in front of your nephews. Didn't wanna be a bad example. And, when we were staying here, I didn't want to make Sarah's home smell terrible. You know how that smell is. Lingers."

It was more forethought than anyone had put into anything for Sam in a long, long time. Sam hadn't even thought about Bucky smoking around the boys. Bucky didn't usually smoke in front of other people, unless someone was passing by the alley he had stepped into, so Sam hadn't been worried about it. Bucky had never even seen the boys before he'd shown up on his own down here, new clothes, no cigarettes.

"You chew on lollipops instead," he realized as the fondness in his chest bloomed even further out. "I thought you just did that to give the kids an excuse to have some too."

Bucky scuffed his sneaker in the dirt under the swing. "Keeps me distracted enough."

"Buck, you spend so much time down here. More time than you don't. You must hardly smoke anymore."

Bucky's shoulders came up to his ears. It didn't hide the blush on them. "It's worth it. Guess I might've been looking for a good reason to stop."

Sam thought about all the movie moments he'd caught Bucky smoking--the moonlit balcony, a sunset after a fight, digging through files half naked in bed. All those moments he'd had an overwhelming teenage desire to pull Bucky to him and kiss the smoke out of his mouth. But they were all easily overshadowed by images of Bucky acting as a jungle gym for kids, or reading to Cass and AJ before bed, or helping with science experiments and baking days, or swinging Cass all the way around the swing set, ready to catch him if he fell.

Sam crossed the distance between them, pulling Bucky's face to him between the swing chains to kiss him deeply. He tasted like strawberry lollipops. "I like this look better," he decided.

He felt Bucky smile against his lips. "Well maybe you can help keep my mouth busy," he suggested before kissing Sam again.

Yeah, this was definitely better.

Don't smoke, kids.

Bucky absolutely has an old engraved lighter from the war

[irishmammonagenda]

Ritualistic-Obey Me x Reader

[picture creds] [dividers by @/riottsrph] Summary: You and your friends get a little too wrapped up in the spooky festivities of Halloween. Satan can't help but watch. ;) Word Count: 3.2k Content Warnings: MC is human and this is a different au. probably fem!MC idk i cant write men women are my default. also MC is stupid, like really fucking stupid icl. blood, rituals, implied animal sacrifice, implied gore and violence.

"This was a stupid idea." You think to yourself as you trudge through the dense forest behind your two best friends, avoiding branches and pausing every time you get caught on one.

Noticing your tension, Derek hums, carrying a rucksack on his back and offering you a sip of cider from the can he was holding. No doubt given to him by his Uncle Sam. "Want some? You seem thirsty."

Parched you accept, "Thanks, Derek."

He nods as his cousin Eric turns around from in front of you both, he grins at you, still carefully carrying that cardboard box that they refuse to tell you the contents of. "It's not much further, [Name], don't worry."

Most young adults would be watching horror movies with their friends, or going to a costume party on Halloween Night. But not you three.

You; [Name] [Last Name], Derek Wisconsin, and Eric Vancouver, had something more disturbing planned.

You were going to summon Satan.

Having freshly turned 19, and with Derek preparing to move back to Illinois and, Eric returning to Canada for college; this was your last hurra before being separated.

You shiver, half from the nerves and half from the cold. You should've worn something other than sweatpants and a tank top.

"C'mon [Name], don't be a scaredy cat. We're almost there." Derek teases, shoving you lightly, before throwing his empty can of cider on the forest floor. You glare at him. Sure, you were more naïve than most, but he didn't need to be rude about it!

Eric looks back once more, and shares a look with his cousin before the three of you continue to walk. Getting ever closer to the clearing the blond Canadian had been raving about.

Getting closer to the place you'd chosen for the ritual.

You gulp as you reach the clearing, taking a moment to collect yourself and avoid looking into the treelines, especially as the sky rapidly darkens. You don't want to see something you shouldn't, after all.

Derek grabs the box from his cousin's hands and sets it down gently on the ground beside the rucksack he’d thrown uncaringly in the leaves before adjusting his baseball cap. The redhead breathes in deeply, watching as his friend grabs a handful of straws of various lengths.

Eric scrunches his nose and nudges towards you. "We gotta see who's doin' it. Pick one." The half-canadian nudges to his closed fist, you nervously do so, pulling out a short, stubby straw.

Eric picks out a short straw, still longer than yours. Derek picks out the longest one, and subsequently starts grinning like a maniac. "Fuck yeah!" He whistles. "Oh Jeez....guess you're doing it, [Name]."

"Guess I am..." You pout, before blinking dumbly for a minute. "Wait, what am I doing'?"

Derek and Eric grin to each other with identical smiles before turning to face you. "The main part of the ritual." They say, before the Canadian gestures to the box.

The ginger grins wider, taking off his chicago cubs baseball cap and setting it down, revealling orange toned hair underneath. "But not yet! We gotta set up the summoning circle first!"

You bite your lip. "Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” You ask, eyeing Eric as he starts to copy out a summoning circle from the frayed, ancient looking spellbook.

Derek nods ambitiously. “Hell yeah. What could go wrong? Worst case scenario nothin’ happens and it’s all a hoax. Best case scenario, we summon Satan, make pacts with him and get rich!”

Eric sticks his tongue out in concentration. “Mhm… and don’t worry about havin’ to sell your soul. That’s where the box comes in handy.”

You shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you and Derek watch as the blond finishes the summoning circle and places black candles down at integral points of the inner star.

The Canadian claps the chalk off of his hands, as Derek takes out the deck chair from the large rucksack and unfolds it, setting it in the middle of the circle. you and begin lighting the candles,he grabs an expensive looking ceremonial dagger from his backpack. When he notices you staring he smirks. “Got it from Ebay for 20 dollars. Now lets get started!”

Derek grins before the three of you stand over the book he’d just placed in the very middle of the summoning circle, placed on the foldable garden chair serving as an altar.

Your trio chant in Latin, reading out the words on the page of the book. The light breeze stops dead.

“Ready, [Name]?” Eric smiles, holding the dagger up as you nod offering your hand.

“Make it quick.” You look away. Face scrunched up in pain as the boy draws blood, you hiss in agony as he moves onto Derek and then himself.

The three of you let your blood drip onto the ground in the middle of the summoning circle as you invoke the Avatar of Wrath once more.

All the while being unaware of the emerald green eyes watching you from the shadows of the treeline.

After a few repetitions, Derek turns to you, gestering to the dagger. “You picked the shortest straw. You’re up, MC.”

“What do I do with it?” You tilt your head as you shakily grab the dagger. Growing more and more uncomfortable with the uncanny smiles your friends are sporting.

They hand you the cardboard box. “Open it.” Eric whispers.

You do.

Inside you find a small black kitten barely the size of your hand sleeping peacefully. A small pink ribbon as her makeshift collar. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to shakily pet her. Derek grabs her. She meows as she’s woken up. The redhead hands you the kitten in your free arm.

“Pet store said her name was Inky.” Eric hums as she cuddles into your tanktop, looking for warmth.

You don’t miss the sinister glint in their eyes, yet you do miss the figure in the darkness growing larger, more demonic as he senses what’s about to happen to the kitten before you do.

You feel a sinking feeling in your gut even before Derek orders you in a dark tone. “Say the words in the book. Slit its throat.”

You gulp shakily, as you begin to chant, the wound on your hand aching and beginning to glow green and you swear you can hear a demonic growling sound from the treeline.

You finish chanting, tears welling up in your eyes as you slowly lift the dagger up, preparing to do the unthinkable.

The sky darkens, thunder sounds, a sinister fog begins to form around the ritual circle, reflecting in the pure evil of Derek and Eric’s shared expression.

Satan, who had been watching in the shadows as soon as the ritual began, growls in pure rage. A mere second away from stepping into the circle and gutting the three of you.

You blink away your tears, about the drag the dagger down into the kittens throat, before you meet her tiny amber eyes and she lets out the most pitiful meow. No doubt wanting food.

You break. Throwing the weapon on the ground and breaking off in a sprint. Rushing into the dense woods still cradling the poor kitten as your former friends make chase close behind you.

You wince as branches catch on your skin and leaving you with scratch marks all over. You don’t stop running though, especially after you hear the dagger being thrown at a tree right next to you.

Satan pauses. Shocked out of his growling as he stalks you from the shadows. A small, crooked smile spreads on his face as he watches you make your escape, defenseless kitten in hand.

You manage to get out of view and reach of Derek and Eric as you duck behind a log to catch your breath. Hearing the Canadian shout to his cousin from Illinois to ‘just leave it’ and ‘continue the ritual without the stupid cat’

Derek shouts exploitatives before agreeing and yelling into the woods. “You fucking bitch!- When I find you, [Name]-You’re fucking dead!-”

You hold your breath as their voices grow quieter and quieter. Petting Inky to steel your nerves you peek out and see no one.

Deciding to make your escape you slowly get out, walking dumbly like a baby deer as you slowly trudge further away from where you came.

Satan had been doing nothing in particular before having felt his name being provoked. He sighed, never getting a lot of downtime during Halloween thanks to idiots in the Human Realm summoning him day in and day out.

Allowing himself to be teleported to the area of the ritual. He stalked in the shadows of the treeline, noticing three young adults in the middle of the clearing chanting.

He watched. Prowling around the shadows, rage radiating from him as he hears the meowing of a cat and sees the third of the trio raise a dagger. Yet still, he watches.

His eyes grow green. Already in his demon form, his claws protract. Ready to maul those motherfuckers.

Only to stop when you throw the dagger and make a run for it. Rage simmering down to slight surprise, claws retracting.

You were a smart one, your friends, however, were not. He'd have to find you later, but for now; he stayed in the shadows, waiting, watching as the two boys continue the ritual without the cat they had planned to slaughter.

The ginger, Derek, begins once more, chanting in Latin as he reads from the book, Eric joins in, before a lightbulb goes off into his head.

The Canadian opens his phone and selects a photo of you, placing it on the ground in the centre of the ritual circle.

"A-ave Satanas! This is our sacrifice to you, [Name] [Last Name]!" Eric shouts into the forest, no doubt wanting you to hear in an attempt to punish you for ruining the ritual.

Satan raises an eyebrow. So that was your name? Interesting.

Still in demon form; he steps out of the shadows, revealling himself to the two boys.

He smirks at their shocked gasps, watching in amusement as they scramble to the book, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Where's the cat?" Is all Satan asks.

"T-that bitch-" Derek points to the photo of you on the ground. "She fuckin' ran off with it. Sorry Lord S-Satan....we were tryna sacrifice it for you.-"

Eric nods desperately in agreement.

Satan smirks, "Well then...I suppose I should reward my loyal followers." He says charmingly as his eyes glow a feral green and his claws protract once more.

He'd hang them by their entrails.

No one fucks with cats. Especially not on his watch.

You whimper in the dark woods, shakily bringing your phone out with one hand to use as a flashlight. It was colder now. Inky clung to you for warmth as you did the same to her and held the kitten tighter with one arm.

Having ran blindly from the clearing in random directions, it was safe to say you were lost.

"It's okay buddy…." You whisper to the kitten, whimpering when you hear the tortured screaming of your two friends.

The ritual must've worked.

Like a prey animal, you hunker down behind some bushes just in case. Turning off your phone light, you cradled Inky in your arms and clench your eyes shut in fear, trying not to listen to the screeching and pleading of your former friends.

Tears roll down your cheeks, although you couldn't tell if it was from grieving, anger or fear. Most likely the latter two.

You wait and wait, staying completely still in the dirt, uncaring of the staining in your clothes that would result of it. Leaves rustled softly with your breathing, as you tried to focus on the rise and fall of your chest instead of the nightmarish sounds from God knows how far away.

It keeps going, until it stops, leaving behind it a thick, deathly silence. You hold back a whimper, still much too scared to move, frozen in fear.

Your hair stands on end as a crunching of autumn leaves sounds. Footsteps approach you calmly.

You hold you breath, begging and praying to whatever ancient power out there that whatever that thing was that'd killed your friends wouldn't murder you too. That it would somehow miss your hiding spot.

It was truly a shame for you that the only ancient power in your vicinity was Satan himself.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. :)

To which he did. The footsteps get closer, before stopping at the bush you were hiding behind. You bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

You hear a chuckle sound from the darkness, as you will yourself to open your eyes you see a man, as if by magic, he's in front of you.

You hadn't heard him move from the time it took him to approach you from behind.

Strange.

"You don't need to be scared." The handsome man smiles charmingly. He's not much older than you by the looks of it. "[Name], right?"

You nod dumbly, holding Inky as your emotional support. How did this man know your name? Was he stalking you?

He nods to the kitten in your arms, "Cute cat. Mind if I pet her?"

"Sure….Y-yeah that's fine…." You stiffen as his hand reaches towards you, but relax slightly as the man seems gentle with cats. Everyone knows men who are good with cats can be trusted, right? Inky seems to like him.

"Hmm…..you okay?" The blond man asks kindly. His emerald eyes glow an otherworldly green.

"….I'm lost…." You admit, rather tired from the whole idea.

"I see. Well I could always help you get out. I know these woods quite well…."

"Really? You don't sound like you're from here….." You say softly, finding your voice. Maybe you were too naïve and trusting, but nevertheless, you grab his outstretched hand and laugh a little as he shakes it.

You grin, having calmed your nerves slightly. Unknowing that you've just made a deal with the devil.

He helps you up and you begin to walk through the trees, still holding onto Inky. The man coos at her every now and again and the cat preens under his soft gaze.

You walk in a relatively comfortable silence, with the blond asking you questions here and there, and you answering and asking them back.

Realistically you should still be shaking and crying and traumatised. You'd just heard your two former best friends be murdered. Yet, some dark twisted part inside of you whispers that they were doomed the moment they drew that circle and took out that cat.

It scared you that you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"So what about you…? Do you have any siblings?" You ask quietly, as you both use your phones as flashlights through the woods. You don't feel as much like a headless chicken anymore.

"Yep." He smiles. "Six brothers. I'm the fourth oldest."

"Holy shit."

"Nothing holy about it, in my opinion." He laughs, it's contagious. You can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You're quite interesting, [Name]. Smart too. " The familiar stranger hums. "I like that."

You grin, laughing as humility coats your voice. " Oh really....I don't think I'm that smart....."

The handsome man's eye's glow with something for a second as his eyes fix on the kitten safe in your arms. "You should give yourself more credit, [Name], you've made better decisions than you would even believe tonight."

"....Thanks?" You tilt your head slightly. The Devil himself just hums softly in response as the two of you fall back into the rhythm of a comfortable silence, with you leading the way to your home as you got to the main road once more. It doesn't take long before the three of you reach it.

As you reach your home, the blond sees you and your newly acquired kitten to your door. You give him a small smile. "Well this is me...."

He nods, before grabbing your free hand, and speaking a phrase in Latin you almost recognise as he meets your gaze with a glowing green one of his own. He kisses your hand and grins as ink like emeralds form on your skin like a tattoo, swirling and dancing until they find purchase around your wrist in a symbol not unlike the ones in the summoning circle.

Your breath hitches. "Y-you're..."

The demon grins. "I'm Satan, yes." He replies, admiring the pact mark now on your hand. "And you might be one of my favourite devotees."

"....You're not gonna kill me...?" You ask in a small voice, clutching Inky as you open the door you had stupidly forgotten to lock before you went out.

The Avatar of Wrath only laughs in response, a soft look overriding his facial expression. "If I wanted to kill you I would've done so in the woods. Besides. You weren't stupid....like the other imbeciles who try to summon me." He reaches over to pet Inky once more, something he's done a lot within the short space of time you've gotten to know him.

"Huh?" You voice out your confusion, and he grins up at you. For the supposed Avatar of Wrath, he sure is charming. It was easy to trust him.

"Well...most people- actually every group or person who tries to summon me around Halloween time...sometimes even witches but especially inexperienced humans like you and your....friends...always make the fatal mistake of sacrificing cats during the ritual...." His eyes narrow as he thinks about it. A murderous expression creeps onto his face and a deathly aura surrounds him as you realise why he's named the Avatar of Wrath.

Satan takes a deep breath and continues. "But you didn't....I can appreciate and trust someone like you."

You nod, wondering what parenting mistakes your parents made that could've made you attracted to a literal Lord of Hell as you feel your cheeks heat up. "Do you wanna come inside for a bit?"

The corners of his lips twitch, "I'd love to...but Halloween is a busy time for me....summonings and all.....could I come back tomorrow?"

You nod. "Bring some treats for Inky?" You ask light-heartedly.

"Oh of course." He smiles, waving goodbye as you trek inside your home, placing the kitten down gently on the entrance mat of your hall.

"Well....bye for now, Satan..." You nod, at the now not so enigmatic stranger, he gives you another kiss on the back of your hand.

"Goodnight, [Name]." He says before slowly closing the door for you.

He'd come visit you again, after all, he had accepted your ritual and given you his pact mark. As the blond demon thinks to himself whilst traversing to yet another ritual preformed by stupid young adults abusing cats who were about to get mauled, he comes to the realisation that Lucifer said no to cats in the house. but he never said anything about a human and that said human's cat. ;)

🎃🦇samhain shona daoibh 🎃🦇

if you cant tell ive watched a lot of horror movies recently and made the ritual very not very realistic-ified for the sake of dramatic devices gng. (unrelated but im too scared to watch the exorcist)😔✊

real ones realised i reused derek wisconsin and eric vancouver from my summertime shennanigans fic. i am aware the names are horrible that's why i chose them.

can we all appreciate the fact i churned this out in like two days pretty please (oh the joys of getting 8 hours of sleep every night and being off school and not completely exhausted.)

no irish in this post bc halloween is irish enough anyways yipeeee!

anyways 😈

i made a poll yesterday asking if i should give you stinkers (said lovingly) a name like im some 2019 youtuber with a bunch of fans because i yearn for the silliness and nearly everyone said yes so yipeeee! also i need ideas or else you're being called péisteanna or something equally as stupid 😈