#honestly the problem is I’ve used all the photos of him just doing normal stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whirlybirbs · 3 years

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( this chapter’s gif by @ransomflanagan from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 5/?

summary: your plan goes to asbolute shit.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 9k, please pray for my fingers

a/n: there’s action, there’s gunshot wounds, there’s canon appropriate violence! this one has a lot of plot, a lot of action, and i truly want to sleep for seven days after writing this. you should listen to the glass cannon’s club playlist while you read, though, for vibez.

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You do have a plan.

Maybe it’s a little vague, a little messy, and a little up-in-the-air, but it’s a plan.

Get in, find Kiwi, avoid a handful of unsavory characters, and access the Alexandria Library.

Getting the hell out The Glass Cannon once you and Bucky were in was going to be a whole different plan entirely — one that was more improv than anything else. Hopefully, running a quick facial recognition program wouldn’t take long. With any luck, it would get a hit on any more recent aliases Innessa Sidrova was using after parsing the motherload of information Kiwi held onto with her life.

Kiwi wasn’t always known as Kiwi. She worked at SHIELD, like you, and back then she was known as Suji Awal. She stuck around longer — and she’d stayed on board during the active collapse to do heaven-sent work. It was an absolute Hail Mary, but while HYDRA had tried to purge all of SHIELD’s cloud data to protect their active agents and decades of progress, Suji had beat the hare in the race. Two steps ahead, she’d managed to pull nearly 97% of all confidential data including mission reports, agent profiles, and even electronic correspondence. While the metaphorical fire burned the documents behind her, she’d managed to salvage one of the only surviving, comprehensive looks at SHIELD before the curtain was pulled back to reveal HYDRA’s infection.

It had been used to try multiple HYDRA agents in the wake of it all in the federal courts. It was significant evidence, but after nearly all was reaped from the crop, Suji had taken the aptly named Alexandria Library and gone underground. Now, Kiwi was just another hacker in the thick of it and the Alexandria files were all but whispers.

It’s all about knowing the right people in the end.

Kiwi was a regular at The Glass Cannon. There was a nine out of ten chance you’d find her there. And if you didn’t find Kiwi, you’d probably find Climber and… Well, going to him wasn’t the most ideal situation, but out of the menagerie of acquaintances you’d gathered up throughout the years, you could trust Climber. He’d send you Kiwi’s way if you finally called in that favor he owed you. Either way, you’d find her and you’d get the files.

You just needed to avoid Alexei Gardzov.

Easy. Ish.

In truth, you barely get anything done Thursday — you’re too preoccupied in your head, running over the so-called plan even now as you fold laundry in the basement of your apartment complex.

You’d dug around in your closet, trying to find some semblance of an outfit. It was difficult. It wasn’t like the barely-there dresses and platform shoes were your thing anymore. Back then, your diet was mostly energy drinks and alcohol — in a way, it’s a relief to find that a good number of your staple outfits no longer fit. It made you feel like you really had put all this behind you.

You have.

Sure, it was the Rabbit you were going to have to be for tonight, but you’re not the Rabbit you were eight years ago. Good thing, too. You’re not too sure you and Bucky would have gotten along otherwise. Right now, your relationship with him was the biggest thing keeping you afloat — for the first time in a long time, you feel like you have some sort of purpose, even if it was a vague one at best.

You knew Innessa Sidrova was a threat — and you knew Bucky had to remedy that threat. You knew he felt responsible for creating her, for planting her in a position of power where she could manipulate and control. In truth, there was still a lot of vagueness surrounding his past. He’d made it clear he hasn’t been himself for a long time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wade through the muck of his trauma to pluck out your answers. It just felt wrong.

If you were to say you hadn’t been tempted to go out on your own and dig, that’d be a lie.

Even now, as you pull out the ink-black top from the dryer and fold it neatly on top of the other pieces of laundry needed for tonight, you can feel it sparking like a lighter in the back of your head.

He was keeping something from you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You nearly jump six feet in the air.

It’s Miss Bonnie — and she’s laughing when her feet touch the cold concrete of the unfinished floor. Her basket of laundry is balanced neatly on her hip, and she walks with a smirk on her face. Her hair is piled neatly on top of her head, and as she bends to plop the basket down, she offers a wink.

“I could hear you thinking from upstairs,” she ruminates, paisley and dyed skirts kissing the ground, “Like a little steam engine.”

You laugh quietly into your task. You duck your head and heft a black bra and jeans from the dryer. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She looks up, eyes moving carefully from the laundry pile to your face. Her eyes glimmer with quiet curiosity. “And a big night planned, huh?”

You snort. “What was the giveaway?”

“It’s always the lacey bras,” she chirps and slides a smirk your way as she waggles a finger at your pile, “And the strappy little bodysuit was a good hint, too.”

You exhale with a laugh, bracing a hand against the dryer. She’s not wrong — you’d really forgone comfort with this outfit lineup. It was temporary, though, and well worth the efforts if it meant helping Bucky tick off a name from his list of amends. You knew how much those meant to him.

“So,” she continues, voice muddled as she continues to load the washer, “I take it this friend of yours is really helping you out of your shell?”

“I guess so. Yeah. It’s — It’s sort of a mutual shell-cracking, I guess.”

“Mm,” a hum, “You sound troubled, though.”

Your mouth opens as your fingers trace the line of the bodysuit. You pause, and you rock back on your heels. Miss Bonnie notices.

She waits patiently, bent at the knees.

“You ever just…” you wave your hand, “Feel like — I don’t know. He’s my friend. My best friend, honestly, and that’s… Really saying a lot. But, there’s stuff under the surface and I know it’s not my business but…”

Out comes a strangled groan.

“What? Like a crazy ex-girlfriend?”

“No, no — I don’t think so,” you mutter, “Wouldn’t surprise me, though.”

“Handsome?” she asks, smiling.

You close your eyes and ignore the smile on your face as you reply. “Yea, handsome.”

“Well, have you tried asking?” she shrugs as she stands, “Not about the crazy ex, but about the stuff you’re worried about? It never hurts.”

“Problem is, I don’t really think it’s too much of my business.”

Miss Bonnie hums at that and presses the start on her washer. She’s quiet for a bit, swaying slightly as she weighs the conversation and you watch — enamored with the older woman’s calm wisdom. She gestures openly with ringed hands.

“I think it’s normal for us to want to know everything about those we care about,” she says, “We want to know how we can protect them, how we can comfort them. But… it comes in due time. All of it does. You’ll find a time when he does open up about the ex, or whatever it is on his mind. You’re friends, after all.”

You’re nodding, chest tight with thanks.

Miss Bonnie’s face is soft.

“You got a picture?” she chirps like a bird looking for a worm, “I wanna see who this little friend is. And if he really is as handsome as you’re suggesting...”

You scoff and lean to dig out your phone.

“Cut it out,” you mumble as she moves closer, “No playing matchmaker.”

“Sure, sure,” she waves, leaning to watch as you scroll through your camera roll.

The only photo you have of Bucky is there from Tuesday night — after he’d housed nearly an entire container of noodles and promptly passed out during the third Lord of the Rings movie. You’d woken up around one in the morning to find that Poke had unceremoniously curled up on top of the supersoldier’s chest. Bucky’s hand was still in the calico’s fur as he dozed, the colors of the TV painting his face all sorts of peaceful. You’d taken the photo, shoving it in his face after gently nudging him awake.

He’s laughed.

You gesture to show Miss Bonnie.

Like ice, she freezes.

You notice a microexpression dart across her face, but it’s gone in an instant. You can’t pin it, but the way she bends to pull the phone closer and zoom in on her face comes off as interest. You blink, label it as shock, and move on.

Her voice sounds different.

“Handsome,” she mumbles plainly, preoccupied with the sight, “I get it now. What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” you say as she hands the phone back, “He’s… He’s a good person.”

Miss Bonnie just nods.

You tuck your phone away and plop your laundry into your basket. Ignoring the sudden quiet that had crept between you both, you haul up the stack and offer her a gentle smile. She’s fiddling with the washer’s timer.

“Thank you, Miss Bonnie.”

“Of course,” she rushes out, smiling gently, “And be safe tonight.”

“I will.”

With your promise, you ascend the stairs.

In that basement, Bonnie McLayne is no more, and instead, Innessa Sidrova remembers that night in Moscow, back in 1975.

She remembers the Winter Soldier.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Bucky calls you three times with no answer.

Normally, he’d just give up — but it was Thursday, and you weren’t answering the buzzer to your apartment either. He tries his best to ignore the strike of panic that sparks in his chest. It could stoke a wildfire, really, but he pushes it down and remembers to breathe. He doesn’t let himself think about what he’d do if something happened to you.

After all, you’re probably fine. Sleeping, maybe. The both of you had a long night ahead.

(Longer than either of you realize, really.)

It’s nearly seven o’clock, and after trying your cell one more time from his perch on your apartment’s stoop, Bucky decides to say fuck it.

A well-adjusted person might frown upon what he was about to do, but Bucky wasn’t exactly well-adjusted, now was he?

He rounds the back alley with long strides and easily finds that, with a little maneuvering, he can hoist himself upwards on top of the nearest dumpster. With a well-timed hop, he can also snag the bottom of the fire escape’s ladder and haul it downwards. The rest is easy, and he’s scaling the fire escape to the third floor with ease before he even knows it.

There’s even a smug little smirk on his face the whole time he does.

Finding your window is a little harder, but Bucky eventually spots Poke’s round little body smushed against the glass — it’s a dead giveaway, and after some prowling, he finds the window to your living room and unceremoniously throws it open.

It’s unlocked, for whatever reason, and he makes a mental note to have a conversation with you about safety and security in the city. After all, you never knew when an ex-assassin supersoldier was going to break in and pet your cat.

Upon opening the window, he pieces together pretty quickly why you’re not answering. Could be the music coming from your bedroom, or even the singing that’s coupled alongside it. From the bathroom across the hall from your room, steam has settled above on the ceiling. The whole apartment smells like fruit and soap and perfume and Bucky’s not really sure how to parse through all the sensory experiences that greet him with he shimmies in through the window, legs first.

All in all, they make him smile.

Bucky shuts the window behind him as he’s quickly greeted by Poke — the calico offers a gratuitous little chirp when Bucky bends to scoop up the cat. Easily, he melts. Poke is purring loudly in his ear as Bucky takes a moment to survey your apartment a little bit closer. Mr. Poke Bowl rubs his face against Bucky’s stubble as the man weaves through the kitchen.

It’s very you.

He isn’t really sure what that means at the end of the day, but all he knows is that he feels at home here. He feels safe. He feels comfortable. He feels like he can be himself. Not James, not Sergeant Barnes, not The Winter Soldier. Not even Steve’s Bucky, but just… his Bucky. Himself. Sarcastic and exhausted and a little cynical.

Bucky lets Poke down on the counter and moves to the fridge.

There’s still beer from the other night in there, tucked in the back, so he makes easy work on popping open a bottle and busying himself with petting a very adamant Poke.

As he sips the Leinenkugel, it’s no small coincidence that his phone buzzes again — for what feels like the hundredth time today — with a message from Janelle.

She was nice — pretty, too. Once upon a time, she would have been his type.

That was before he met you, though.

There’s a little pinprick of mortification at that quiet confession that’s been slipping into his heart more and more in the last few days. You are, after all, his best friend. He’s your best friend. Guilt swims with the feelings that have begun to pluck his heartstrings and he has to admit he’s not too comfortable with the song they play.

His biggest fear is fucking this up.

Fucking you up.

Honestly, his track record isn’t great. The whole defrosted-international-threat bit made it a little difficult to date. Janelle seemed to think the date had gone well enough, though, hence the handful of texts he’d been getting every few hours asking if he’s free.

Like usual, he ignores them.

Exercising his own free will is hard sometimes. Especially when it comes to saying no.

Taking another swig of the beer, Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket and tucks his fingers back into Poke’s fur. The calico’s tail swings patiently as he sits and watches — and it’s a little weird how human his eyes are for a second there. He mmrrps and lunges for Bucky’s hand when he comes close, bonking his head eagerly against the cool vibranium.

It’s a different sensation.

That’s another big adjustment — learning how things really feel with this new arm. It’s not just handling recoil or gripping knives or throwing punches. It’s the soft tickle of fur, the gentle pressure of a warm rag to clean the joints. Meticulous upkeep wasn’t something HYDRA did often. He doesn’t miss the twinge of pain and molasses-like stickiness that came with a dirty arm. Blood was the worst. Always sat deep in the cracks.

He flexes his fingers. Poke meows again.

He moves to plop down on the couch. Poke follows.

You’re singing, still, to some song that Bucky’s never heard, when you push open your bedroom door and move towards the living room.

You jump six feet in the air and scream when you see him just sitting there, clutching a beer and petting Poke like he fucking lives here rent-free.

Bucky’s reaction is muted, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with your outfit and your jewelry and the pink eye shadow that creeps up your brow-bone. There’s glitter on your eyelids and lip gloss on your mouth and he can smell some sort of candy-sweet perfume coming off you. The plunging neckline of the jet-black top is enough to leave him shifting his gaze back up to your startled expression with a tight jaw.

His face is blank.

Then he offers that stupid fucking smile he does. Y’know, the tight-lipped one where he somehow maintains a dead-eyed look the whole time. If you weren’t trying to calm your racing heartbeat, you might have laughed. You hate the white-hot flare it sparks in your chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” you hiss, waving your hands.

“We need to have a serious conversation about locking our windows,” he says as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and wags a finger at you, “Also, what are you wearing?”

“You — You fucking broke in through my window?”

“Yea, well, you were too busy pretending to be Britney Spears to hear me try and buzz up, and my phone calls.”

Sheepishly, you cross your arms. “Nice reference—”

A shrug from Bucky. “Thank you.”

“—Also, what are you wearing?”

He looks down at his usual t-shirt, leather jacket combo. He squints back up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he chirps, “You’re talking to me? Did the department store run out of fabric, Rabbit?”

You self-consciously adjust the plunging neckline of the bodysuit as you frown deeply. “I think I’m gonna skip on the fashion advice from the man who lived in a time where ankles were seen as scandalous.”

“I was born in 1917,” he mumbles as he stands, actively avoiding another pass over your outfit because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad look on you, “Not 1817.”

“Point being, we’re going to a club. And you look like you’re going to the local Home Depot,” you move to snag a set of dangly earrings that are sitting on the coffee table, “We’ve gotta look like we’re there to party, nothing more.”

Bucky sighs. He finishes the beer, places the bottle down and sheds his jacket. “So, what?”

You pry your eyes away from the flash of skin — his arm, flesh and blood, speaks to how strong he is. And, undoubtedly how easy it was for him to fucking scale three stories of the fire escape to bust in.

“So,” you mumble as you thread the earring in, “I have some of Jaimie’s old shirts. There’s probably something you can use… If they fit.”

Bucky exhales softly. “You kept them?”

“Didn’t have the heart to throw them out,” you reply as you gesture for him to follow you into your bedroom.

The back of your top is arguably more crisis-inducing than the front — it’s an open back, and Bucky settles on admiring the decor rather than the curve of your spine. He has to. For his own fucking self-composure.

Your bedroom is nice — and like the rest of your space, it makes him feel comfortable. It’s all warm colors and posters and plants in the corners. Across from your queen-sized bed, there’s a large desk with a triple monitor setup. That’s where the music is coming from. The little knick-knacks on your shelves and desk make him chuckle.

Then, he stops, halfway to the closet, and stares.

You blink over your shoulder as you bend, digging to the back of your closet to pull out the clear bin you’d piled most of Jaimie’s stuff into after the funeral. After you’d cleaned out his apartment on your own.

He’s looking at the poster — the one from Cap’s USO tour. It’s framed nicely, set up on the wall beside your desk. It’s got a gold frame, and Bucky can’t help but wander closer to look at the signature.

It’s Steve’s alright.

“How much did you pay for this?”

You scoff. Your necklaces tinker together. “Don’t even go there.”

“The jerk signed thousands of these,” he mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans closer, “And still, the fame didn’t go to his head.”

You smile softly, leaning back.

“Jealous?” you chirp, raising your brows as you pretend to swoon, “Oh, Sergeant Barnes, I’d just love to meet your dear friend—”

Bucky’s laughing as you swat at his knee, leaning back on the carpet like a damsel in distress.

“Shut up,” he snorts, “It’s a sore subject for me.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious — do you know how many dates I had to set up for the chump? And then, boom. I’m invisible.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter with a smile, unclicking the lid, “Some people just like blondes, Buck. I’m sure there were plenty of eyes on you. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Yea, the best friend, sure,” he mumbles at the poster, “Hell, he was taller than me. You know you don’t need to lie to me—”

“Listen, if I was some Lauren Bacall-looking nurse back then,” you wave your hands, “I’d have gone for you. Alright? Stop lamenting and get over here.”

He goes quiet and ignores the warmth in his cheeks. He squats by your side. “Shut up.”

“We seriously need to work on taking compliments,” you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m being serious, y’know, for once. And I’m not just saying it as your friend. You’re handsome and everyone knows it except you, apparently. My neighbor agrees that’s for sure.”

He squints.

You wave it off and gesture to your outfit. “She saw me doing laundry.”

“That explains nothing,” Bucky deadpans, “Literally nothing.”

“I showed her a picture,” you cry indignantly, moving to shuffle through some of the old t-shirts sitting on top of the bin, “Relax.”

He moves to plop down, crossing his legs beneath him. He decides to let the topic die — again, for his own self-composure more than anything. The compliment, though vehemently denied by the worst part of him, is tucked neatly in the homes of his heart. The idea of meeting you, before now, is a little intoxicating. What would it have been like?

Would you have even spared him a dance?

Bucky rubs his cheek. Poke meows and buts the door open with his head.

You’re wrist-deep in the bin when you speak. “He’s obsessed with you, y’know.”

Poke has already taken up a post in Bucky’s lap. Bucky smiles, petting Poke gently with his vibranium hand. The cat seems to like the cool metal. Bucky mumbles softly down to the calico, scritching his cheeks. “I like him, too.”

You pause long enough to try and remember the sight.

Bucky’s eyes find yours, and you’re quick to turn back to the bin.

“Here we go,” you exhale as you pull out the shirt you’d been looking for.

It’s a long-sleeve button-down, one that you can distinctly remember Jaimie wearing to his engagement party’s after-party — a real typical night of Jaimie being Jaimie. It’s black with a barely-there red floral pattern. It’s flashy enough that Bucky won’t look horribly out of place.

The only problem is Jaimie was a little smaller than Bucky.

“Try this on,” you mumble as you dig around trying to find something else in case it doesn’t do the trick.

Bucky catches the silk shirt and gives it a once over. He raises an eyebrow, and deciding against debating this, he simply nudges Poke off his lap and stands.

He moves to your bed, laying the shirt out. On your closet door is a full-length mirror. You want to snap it in half when you accidentally catch a glimpse of Bucky hauling off his black, cotton t-shirt and anxiously fumbling with the buttons on Jaimie’s old shirt. You have to breathe — and remind yourself that that’s Bucky.

Your Bucky. Your best friend Bucky.

When he calls your name, it sounds far away. You’re busy angrily sorting through old clothes.

“I look ridiculous.”

When you turn around, the first thing you notice is that it’s a little tight. Not in a bad way, but the buttons are gapping along his chest, and it’s tight around his arms.

Your eyes widen a little and you swallow. You tilt your head.

Bucky’s frowning.

“Let me see,” you offer gently, standing and moving close, “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t sound too sure right now,” he mumbles as you enter his personal space.

You’re nimble with undoing the top three buttons — it gives him enough room to move his shoulders, though, and the dip of the shirt along his sternum brings dog tags into view. You reach, momentarily entranced, and read them to yourself.

You smell like vanilla and sugar.

Bucky shifts in his boots.

“Y’know,” you say, moving to the sleeves, “I think this works.”

You roll the sleeves, stopping at his forearm.

When you step aside, Bucky can see himself in the full-length mirror. He looks less than enthused.

It’s not an entirely bad look — he’ll admit that much — but he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s too much chest and skin and… Christ, this shirt is tight. He does, though, look like some of those trendy folks he sees at Izzy’s bar every now and again. Hipsters.

“I look like a douchebag.”

“That’s the point,” you chirp as you close the box and shove it back into your closet, “Now the outfit matches the personality.”

He swats at your head on the way by. You laugh.

You’ve got boots in your hand, and you land on the bed with a bounce. Bucky is busy fixing his hair in the mirror while you zip up the thigh-high boots. When he turns around, you’re about three inches taller. He blinks, yet again entranced by the outfit.

Then, you’re muscling on the jacket.

It’s neon pink — and shaggy and cropped. It falls just above your waist and swallows you whole. But, Bucky’s attention is mostly on the back.

There’s a large, white embroidered Playboy bunny there, with RABBIT written across the shoulders in a chunky, blackletter typeface.

His brows are high on his face when you turn around.

You freeze.

“...What?” you ask, “Something on my face?”

“Playboy bunny, huh?”

You could smack him. “Weren’t you busy being a frozen dinner when Playboy came out?”

“I’ll have you know,” he says tightly as he follows you out of your bedroom and to the living room, “The Russians enjoyed their fair share of editions.”

“The Russians? Sure, what’s that saying? There’s no sex in the USSR?” you chide, “You can just say Bucky Barnesenjoyed his fair share—”

The tips of his ears are red. You notice. It makes you split into a grin that worsens the pink shade that’s crawling up his neck.

He coughs. “Have you ever considered never opening your mouth again, Rabbit?”

You nudge his arm. “Nah. Bothering you is more fun.”

He shrugs on his jacket, sighs, and decides that keeping quiet is just easier.

However, that’s not entirely your plan — and you speak quickly as you pull your purse over your shoulder. You’re rummaging quietly, stacking your wallet and phone inside. You glance up at him.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he mumbles, bending to pat Poke one last time as you move to the door of your bedroom. He watches you flick all the lights off, and before you leave, you double check the calico’s food and water. He’s got enough for a few days. Bucky leans against the door frame, “Care to run me through the plan?”

Nodding, you move to open your front door.

“It’ll be easy,” you explain as you make room for him, “If we play our cards right—”

Bucky’s stopped, though, and is digging in his back pocket as his cell phone rings. You watch him exhale tightly, eyes on the screen the entire time he squeezes by you and starts down the hall. You make careful note of the delicate scowl on his face, only before you catch Miss Bonnie out of the corner of her eye.

Her door is half-cracked across the hall, and she’s watching.

She offers you a smile.

Bucky keeps walking.

You wave, lock your door, and jog to catch up to Bucky.

“Hey,” you call, “Earth to Mr. Claw Machine?”

His head snaps up. “Sorry.”

“Who was that?” you ask carefully, nudging his arm with yours, “Falcon?”

“I wish,” he mutters as he muscles the cellphone back into his pocket, “I wouldn’t feel so bad sending him to voicemail.”

“Yeesh,” you wince, “Lemme guess, was it the owner of the coral lipstick that was all over your face on Tuesday night?”

Again, that temptation to feel jealousy flares up in your heart. But, he’s here, isn’t he? With you. Ignoring her calls. And probably texts judging by the guilty look that’s on his face. You feel a little bad — but at the same time, Bucky’s a grown man. Maybe a grown man who needs to create some more transparent lines of communication with the poor woman, but still.

“Bingo. I mean — it’s not that she wasn’t great an’ all but…”

You raise both hands. “I’m not judging.”

He sighs raggedly as he bounces down the apartment’s stairs. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“What?” you ask with a laugh, “Dating? Yea, it’s pretty fucking terrifying, Buck.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

You hold the door open for him and slide him a pitying look.

“Because I am.”

The walk to The Glass Cannon is spent walking Bucky through the plan — and for the most part, he makes a point of nodding along and listening. His only real anxiety pops up at the mention of Alexei, which is relatable to say the least.

It’s dark, the streets are relatively quiet, and the spring chill has pricked your skin. Your heels click against the pavement, and you stalk along. Shoving your hands in your pockets of the pink, shag jacket, you huff.

You’re starting to feel the anxiety.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both approaching the blue glow of the storefront.

Computers & Stuff was a family-owned and operated computer shop from the 90s that was taken over by a lesser-known hand of the Russian crime family in New York, the Gardzovs. Alexei’s father is the formal owner of the shop, and his son runs the lucrative activities of the underground club that lay beneath the graphics cards and motherboards.

Bucky, as you both near the entrance, speaks quickly. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?” you whisper.

The bell above the door dings when you pull open the glass door.

The lighting is sterile and if you’re real quiet, you can hear the dull hum of the fluorescents. The store is empty, save for one man behind the register.

You almost duck out the entrance at the sight of him.

Igor has been a bouncer at The Glass Cannon for as long as you’ve been a patron — and he’s also one of Alexei’s dogs. This part of the plan was something you’d considered only briefly, and for a second, you’re thankful you worried over the million and ten ways this would play out for days.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bunny.”

It’s said with malice. Igor’s tattooed hands land on the counter as he leans.

You, however, hold your head high. Bucky watches as something changes in your posture.

“Good to see you, Igor.”

“Is it?” he growls, stalking around the counter and quickly encroaching on your personal space, “Because I’m pretty sure you’re not welcome here, bunny.”

Bucky gets a good look at the man now — clearly an enforcer. He’s got prison tattoos, a shaved head. The long beard is a weak spot. Doesn’t seem to be armed. Blue eyes flick to you and the way you don’t even flinch when the man leans to breathe right in your face.

You just smile.

“I thought you’d say that,” you mumble, moving to swing your bag to the front and dig your wallet out, “But, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Suddenly, there’s a hundred-dollar bill slipping from your well-manicured nails into the vest pocket of the bouncer. There’s a tense pause, then, while the two of you size one another up.

“Fucking your way through college paid off, huh?” he hisses.

You stay quiet.

Bucky, though, moves between you both with a quick shove. Immediately, Igor’s attention goes to Bucky as he sizes him up — he laughs. His nose is nearly touching Bucky’s.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“You should watch your mouth,” Bucky says evenly, “Or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

You’re careful to hide your expression; the feeling the words stir isn’t one that you’re happy about. This sudden protectiveness, though, makes you feel some sort of invincible.

Igor settles back on his heels.

He steps back.

He gestures to the back room with his head.

You keep walking when he calls out: “Careful, bunny, the dogs are going to be looking for you.”

You grit your teeth tightly and push through the fabric curtain.

He barks, taunting you.

Bucky is by your side in an instant, gaze still rooted over his shoulder at the hulking bouncer. He waits until you’ve settled down until you’ve said his name. His eyes fall to you, then to the stairwell before them.

Above it, in curled neon tubing, reads The Glass Cannon.

The windows are blacked out, but from his spot at the top of the stairs, Bucky can feel the rattle of a deep bass vibrate his ribs.

“Come on. We’re on a time crunch now.”

“Alexei?”

You nod as you lead the way down the stairs. “Word travels fast. We need to be quicker. Stick to the crowds. Remember, we just need to find Kiwi — then we bail.”

Bucky nods tensely.

Then, you open the doors.

Immediately, his eyes adjust to the darkness — neon and strobes and the pulse of purple and pink LEDs make his vision swim. It’s warmer down here, and the stairs leading down into the sub-basement is lined with people sipping drinks and chattering over the loud music. It smells like piss and beer and tobacco.

Again, Bucky watches as the person he knows melts away.

The Rabbit in front of him is different.

You reach, as if on reflex, for his hand.

When you turn around and flash him a smile, he has to swallow down a sudden rise of sheepishness.

The sea of people part around you, and Bucky realizes quickly that people recognize you. He can see their painted lips moving, muttering things into curious ears about the pink-clad woman in front of him; there are smiles there and frowns, and shock. You’re slow in your descent, making a show of the arrival — all while Bucky begins to piece together that The Glass Cannon is larger than he originally suspected.

As they near the bottom of the landing, he can see out across the floor.

There’s a square-shaped catwalk around the dance floor, laden with dancers on their designated poles. Tables line the outside of the cavernous room, and the bars along each wall are crowded — even still, these glimpses of his surroundings come in temporary flashes of light. The music coming from the center of the dancefloor is loud. The entirety of the scene is raucous.

He can’t imagine you finding solace here.

He tightens his grip on your hand. You squeeze back.

When both of you reach the bottom of the stairwell, the sea of people swallow you in a current of dancing and drinking and laughing, and you crawl into Bucky’s personal space to shout in his ear.

You’re still holding his hand tightly, pressed to his chest, as you lean upwards to brush your cheek with his.

“Follow me, okay?”

He nods.

You begin the methodical crawl through the dancefloor, working your way to the bar — there, you pause long enough to be served a drink that’s as pink as the glitter on your eyelids. The flecks dance in the lights, and Bucky graciously accepts a shot from the bartender who smiles sweetly like honey at you.

You bat your lashes, thank her, and stand gracefully from the barstool.

You take a pointed swig and scan the floor.

Kiwi would be in one of the private booths, you suspect — she was enough of a high roller here. But, with the crowded club bursting at the seams, it was nearly impossible to get to the other side. You sway a bit on your feet, still tightly gripping Bucky’s hand in your own. You refuse to let go.

For your sake and his.

Bucky is a silent shadow, eyes roaming the club — he watches a dancer dip down low and snag a green bill from a patron. Someone beside him laughs loud, another bumping into his backside as you continue to weave to the outer rim of the room. The music is so loud his heartbeat could be mistaken for an 808, and he feels the thrum in his bones.

If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, if he was drunk, maybe it could be fun.

Finally, out of the haze of bodies, Bucky can breathe.

You’re leaning over again, speaking quickly.

“I don’t see her.”

“I can’t see shit in here,” he calls back, eyes moving along the ridge of the room. He scans the booths set into the walls, set up on platforms, and roped off with velveteen, “Where would she be?”

“Hard to tell,” you mumble, “But I think I might need to go to Plan B.”

Bucky follows your solid stare.

In the booth directly across the floor from you, there’s a man in black — black everything, save from his hair. That’s the brightest blue Bucky has ever seen. He’s swallowed by a harem of men and women who are laughing and drinking and dancing, and he’s entertaining. Ringed fingers wave in the air, face split into a laugh so wide he swears it’s a mile long. He’s got glasses on and they’re tinted blue.

Bucky watches carefully as you move to his booth.

It’s like a prey surveying a trap — you’re careful.

Finally, when you stand before it, you let go of his hand.

“Hi there, Climber.”

The whole booth falls silent. The man stiffens, back turned to you totally. Bucky watches as his hands fall and slowly, the man you’d called Climber turns around.

His expression is stone cold.

His voice, however, is as warm as a hot poker.

“Oh my goodness, is that Rabbit?”

He ascends from the booth, platform boots leaving him to tower over you — he’s no small man, either. Bucky watches as he bends to kiss both of your cheeks and hug you tightly. He, however, doesn’t pull away entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, “You want to be roadkill?”

“I need to find Kiwi,” you whisper quickly, expression almost begging, “Please.”

He pauses, dimpled chin wavering a bit. Bucky watches him sniff, push his glasses back, and readjust his posture. Climber licks his lips and his eyes dart to Bucky. He’s thinking, Bucky realizes, and after a quick moment of deliberation, he seems to cave.

“Only because I owe you.”

“I know,” you say, raising your hands, “I know.”

In a dash, his demeanor changes once more. He’s flying over to his harem, waving his hands and blowing kisses and promising he’ll be back in a flash. They whine, they moan, but Climber appeases them with another round of jello shots from strobing syringes that a waitress is carrying by.

“Come on then,” he says, “And stop looking like such a prude.”

He begins to weave.

You follow hand returning to its spot in Bucky’s like a lifeline.

You’re sipping your drink, moving through the crowd easily. There’s a slight sway in your step now, and at one point you and Climber even get noticed by a pod of people who recognize your faces. It’s met with laughing and squealing and in the fray, the both of you slip back into the crowd. Bucky is taking it all in, desperately ignoring the tingle of a panic flaring in the back of his head.

Too many people.

Soon, though, Climber is moving towards a side entrance.

It’s a back room.

Suddenly, the dim lights and neon dissolve, and instead, Bucky is flashed in the face with the abrasive sting of fluorescent lights. It no longer reeks of spilled beer, and his boots don’t stick to the ground. No, there’s quiet chatter back here — Climber continues to lead the two of you through a maze of supply crates full of booze and soda.

Then, a right turn. And a left turn.

Someone is taking inventory.

“Kiwi, I know you’re going to hate me for this—”

The woman who turns around is beautiful. She’s in the midst of eyeing an open crate that looks just like the others but fitted with a hollowed center, marking off what looks like an inventory of burner cell phones. Her brown skin is decorated with glitter, her eyes streaked with the same green shade of her tightly shaved head. The green is bright and it reminds Bucky of summer.

Suddenly, her expression sours.

“What the fuck.”

“I know—”

“No,” she snaps, raising her hand and waving to the assistant beside her to take her tablet and make themselves scarce, “You need to get out of here.”

“I need your help,” you say finally, tone heavy.

It’s enough to make Climber sigh. Kiwi watches you, scratches her neck, and swallows.

She meets Climber’s eyes.

Then she breaks.

“Where the fuck have you been, Rabbit?” she asks, worries seeping into her eyes as she pulls you into a rough hug, “We thought you were dead.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But you know I couldn’t be around here anymore.”

“Yea,” Climber snorts, “Not good for your health, huh, love?”

“Alexei still wants your head,” Kiwi chimes in, crossing her arms, “Does he know you’re here?”

“Igor was on the door, so I’m sure he’s heard by now.”

Both of them curse.

Guilt flashes across your face as you screw your eyes shut and nod. “I know. I know, I just… I seriously need your help, Kiwi. It was worth the risk. It’s — HYDRA. I need to tap into the Alexandria Library.”

Immediately, the woman stiffens.

Her eyes flash to Bucky in the corner. He stares back.

“He waits outside.”

“You can trust him—”

“No,” she snaps, “I can’t. And I don’t. And I won’t.”

You give Bucky a pleading look. Between the two of you, a negotiation happens between your eyes. It’s a compromise, and finally, Bucky relents.

“Fine,” Bucky barks, tilting his head and giving you a tight-lipped smile, “Fine. I’ll wait out here.”

“He’s cute,” mumbles Climber as Bucky rounds the corner, long legs carrying him out of the supply room, “Boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Climber,” you mumble, waving your hand, “Just listen—”

“Who is he?” Kiwi asks, eyes still watching the doorway, “And why did you bring him along?”

You sigh, rubbing your brow. “He’s the one who’s trying to find this HYDRA agent. He knew her before.”

“So he’s HYDRA.”

“No,” you snap cooly, “He’s not.”

“So, just handsome, then?” Climber asks, hands waving, “Right. Great. Really making a case for yourself, Rabbit.”

“He’s trying to find a woman named Innessa Sidrova. She was one of the original agents who helped form the American HYDRA cell,” you explain quickly, “I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and… And he’s a good person. He’s my friend. I’m trying to help him, but I can’t do it without you. Both of you.”

Kiwi hums. She sighs. “That explains why you went MIA.”

“Aside from putting Alexei behind bars?” you scoff, “Yea, the GRC played a part in it.”

The three of you are quiet for a moment.

“Fine.”

You look up at Kiwi. Her hands are on her waist.

There’s an immense wash of relief that floods over you at that moment — and from the looks of it, Kiwi can tell. You move to grab her hand, and she grabs back. Both of you smile, and the hug that follows is warm. You’ve missed her. A lot.

“Thank you, Suji.”

Then, footsteps.

That relief is traded in for an anxious backfire of fear in an instant.

It’s slow. Dress shoes on polished cement.

Then:

“Oh, bunny, bunny, bunny. Tsk, tsk.”

Climber and Kiwi’s faces upturn to the doorway and they tell you everything you need to know.

So, you decide at that moment that you won’t be the prey tonight.

You turn around and come face-to-face with a man playing devil.

Alexei Gardzov is a handsome man — a beard and piercing grey eyes. His hair is tightly cropped, and intricate tattoos decorate every inch of his skin. Some of them are new, you realize, and there’s temporary pride that bubbles up at them. They’re from prison.

You almost smile.

Behind him, three goons loom.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d come hopping back,” he croons as he enters the room with the swagger of a man who trapped his dinner, “Well worth the wait, I think.”

His cologne hangs like smog in the air. He strolls up to you, and in a flash, he’s got your hair in a vice grip.

He yanks it back, you grit your teeth.

The barrel of a gun digs into your cheek.

“Climber, Kiwi, and Rabbit,” he sing-songs, “All in one room again like it’s NYU’s 2014 hack-a-thon. Isn’t that cute?”

Kiwi speaks. “Alexei—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, gun moving to flash towards Kiwi, “And stay out of my business, Sujina.”

The gun’s muzzle is cold. He’s rough, and you try to ignore the twinge of pain that comes with his unceremonious yank of your hair. Once more, he tsks. His breath is hot on your face. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey.

“I spent seven years behind bars,” he bites, “All because a’ you.”

“Me? I wasn’t the one trafficking girls—”

“SHUT UP!”

The pistol cracks across your cheek and the cement floor hurtles towards you. The gasp that falls from your lips is from shock; your fingers dig into the cold ground as you try to blink away the blurriness. Your ears ring. Blood drips from your cheek between your fingers.

Again, there’s a hand in your hair.

Now, the fight begins.

Climber and Kiwi are stuck, frozen in fear.

You don’t blame them, because Igor and the others have guns already drawn. One of them, one that’s young and you don’t recognize immediately, has a baseball bat in his hands.

Alexei drags you by your hair as you grimace, refusing to scream. Your heels scrape against the ground as you try to get purchase, but he’s quick to throw you back against the far wall.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he smiles, “I won’t kill you. Not right now.”

Then, a kick.

Right to the ribs.

You can’t breathe — you gasp earnestly at the white, hot shot of pain.

“Get up.”

You’re not listening, you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

“I said,” comes a growl as he reaches, hand in your hair again as he drags you up the wall. Your legs buckle, and you try to hold your chin high as you stumble upwards, “Get up.”

Then, there’s a hand around your throat.

Tight. Too tight. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t get his hand off your neck, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t fucking think, can’t stand, can’t see, can’t breathe —

“Boss!”

A new voice.

The pressure is relieved for a second.

A new face has run into the room — he looks frazzled, hair askew and gun out. He’s eyeing the scene before him in a moment’s pause.

“Can’t you see I’m a little bit busy?” Alexei snags as you gasp, clawing at his hand. He swings his head to the figure in the doorway with an annoyed bark, “What is it?”

“The cops, boss,” he stammers, “They’re here.”

“What?”

“They’re here for her, boss.”

A slow turn to where his finger is pointing. His gaze lands on you. Alexei laughs.

“Well,” he says as the goon disappears, “Isn’t that just peachy, bunny?”

The choking starts again.

Then, a metal hand.

Vibranium.

You watch it swing, you watch it grab Alexei’s throat.

Suddenly, you can breathe.

Suddenly, Bucky Barnes enters the fight.

You make friends with the ground again as you duck, just as Alexei is rammed into the wall above your head by his throat. As you cough while Kiwi calls your name — you can hear a fight. But everything’s moving slow, and it’s not until the first gunshot that you’re kicked into action. It’s loud. Your skin pricks alive.

Someone screams.

You stumble to your feet, eyes finding Bucky’s form moving quickly between the three goons — the gunshot had come from the pistol that had somehow found its way into Bucky's flesh and blood hand. One of the men is on the floor, suit pants stained with a bullet wound through the thigh. He’s wailing. Bucky doesn’t notice. Or he doesn’t care. Maybe both.

His face is cold.

Another gunshot is fired off, this time richoting between you and Kiwi and Climber and embedding itself into the cement wall overhead. The three of you scream, ducking reflexively.

That’s when Bucky snaps.

“Now would be a good time to go!”

Kiwi’s hands are on your arm as you quickly break through the doorway through the storage room. Climber is following, checking over his shoulder at the carnage that Bucky begins to reap in the room.

He’s hysterical, trying to jog in his white platform boots. “What the fuck, Rabbit!”

Your voice is hoarse. You’re clutching your ribs. “Not now, Climber!”

“I’m parked in the back,” Kiwi says, ducking through plastic flaps as she helps you through the back of the club, “Come on, we’ll go through the trucking entrance.”

You hear Bucky call your name — he’s jogging to catch up, gun drawn in his hand. Seems like he made good work of the others, sporting nothing more than a split lip. You turn, pausing for a moment to take inventory of his well-being.

And that’s all it takes.

Alexei Gardzov, limping, steps in front of you and Kiwi and Climber at an intersection in the hallway.

There’s a gun in his hand.

The first thing you feel is the impact.

Like a truck slamming into you at full speed. For the fourth time tonight, you have the air robbed from your lungs. It’s instant confusion.

Then comes the pain. Hot. Hotter than the sun. Hot like white flames. It tears through your shoulder and all you can do is gasp; you’re sent into a stutter step — and while the world around you continues to move, you’re busy reconciling with the fact you’ve just been shot.

A bullet flies by your head.

Alexei Gardzov drops.

You’re grasping at your chest, staggering, when Bucky breaks into a sprint — but you’re okay. You’re okay, it’s just your shoulder, it’s just your arm, you’re okay, you can feel your fingers and you can breathe and the pain is nearly unbearable but you’re okay.

Then, a baseball bat.

It clocks Bucky directly in the skull. He’s clotheslined.

It’s Igor.

The gun from Bucky’s hands clatters across the ground to your feet, and you’re too busy trying to get to Bucky to realize — but, you’ve got tunnel vision and adrenaline and at that moment, you think a good sidekick doesn’t need anything else in this life.

Igor goes to swing at you, but you duck. Your stiletto crushes through the top of his shoe. He screams and in a flurry of pain and panic, you manage to snag the bat quick enough to turn and clock him under the chin with a roll of the wrist.

His teeth clack together and he falls backward, unconscious.

“God, I really wish you could have seen that, Buck.”

You spit. Blood paints the ground.

The bat clatters to the cement as you fight through the pain. Kiwi and Climber are by your side in an instant.

“No, no!” she screams, “We do not have time for this—”

“I am not leaving him,” you snap, nearly screaming at the woman, “Come on and help me with him. Now.”

After a sigh of resignation, Kiwi shoves the gun she’d snagged from the ground into the back of her jeans. You’ve got your hands around Bucky’s ankles as Kiwi and Climber take his torso — and the four of you make a break for the back entrance. You can hear the cops outside now, and there’s the chatter of Russian following you into the back parking lot.

“Hurry up!”

“He’s not exactly light as a feather, you know!”

“Shut up, Climber!”

You’ve got Bucky halfway into the back seat of Kiwi’s white Cadillac when another bullet whizzes by your head.

“Fuck.”

Kiwi hops into the driver’s seat as Climber scatters to hop the hood and throws himself into the passenger's seat. You lean, clinging to the door of the backseat as Kiwi peels out of the parking lot. It swings wide open and you curse loudly. You can see Alexei’s men watching from the back entrance, shouting in Russian — so you muster all your strength to pull back and throw the door closed as Kiwi’s car bounces over a speed bump and rams through the parking meter’s gate.

In the rear window, the front of the club is surrounded.

Red and blue lights illuminate the street — but Kiwi is quick.

No one follows.

And when she finally makes it to the Manhattan Bridge, you exhale.

Bucky’s head is in your lap. He still hasn’t come to — there’s blood coming from his nose and you’re worrying. You lace your fingers into his thick, brown hair and chew your lip.

Kiwi’s voice pulls you from him.

“When were you going to mention the vibranium arm, huh?”

You laugh. It’s more of a breath of air than anything. Your head rests back against the seat. Your shoulder is still on fire. You’re hot, but cold. You’re bleeding still. Your ribs aren’t right. You know that.

“I can’t believe he shot you,” Climber mumbles, “He fucking shot you.”

“And your boy toy shot him,” Kiwi says, sparing you a look in the rearview, “So you better pray he’s dead.”

You ignore the commentary.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe,” she says, accelerating into Manhattan, “Where I can get you those files and you can keep your head down.”

Sounds like a plan.

Better than the one you had, anyways.

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #bucky x you #BOY OH BOY THE FORMATTING I WANNA SCREAM

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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lilhawkeye3 · 4 years

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Tea Time With Hawk ☕️🦅

The Bad Batch was... badly designed

If you like the Bad Batch & aren’t open to reading a critical look into their design, don’t read this.

So I’ve already written about The Clone Wars and the issues with Tup and Rex’s character designs. For me, these aren’t reasons enough for me to dislike their characters as a whole (although I refuse to draw Tup’s tattoo when I do draw him).

With the Bad Batch though... I really don’t like them. I don’t want to draw them. Their designs make me uncomfortable, and for two reasons other than just the designs themselves:

1. The Bad Batch was designed for the newest and latest season of TCW, meaning those involved in the creation and in the direction of the Star Wars Umiverse in general are aware of issues brought up in the last decade about POC representation and racism in Star Wars (I say this because it’s been widely talked about, especially after the sequel movies premiered).

2. These characters were introduced specifically as a backdoor pilot for their own series. If the reception to them hadn’t been as good, the Bad Batch series probably wouldn’t have been greenlighted (this is something done in Hollywood in general, not a specific Disney thing). The problem isn’t that they were created in mind to have a series about them, but that these clones have the most whitewashed appearance and were chosen to be the focus of a new series.

So, on to a closer look at exactly what I find issue with these characters.

Crosshair: why the fuck does the sharpshooter look like a white man (this is nothing against white men, but he is supposed to be the CLONE of a BROWN MAN). EVERYTHING about him is changed so drastically that it doesn’t even look like they used the base model of a clone for him.

For comparison:

Top photo is Crosshair. Bottom three are Fives, Jester, and Echo (after the Citadel, which I’ll get to).

Crosshair’s jaw structure is angular and his cheekbones more vertical and prominent. His hairline is more rigid, his hair is white, and with the painting details you can see it is mean to be straight. His nose is so much narrower it’s as if he had a nose job done. Even his lip shape is smaller, which is ridiculous seeing as the clones already have such thin lips. His eyebrows are thinner and less bold. All these are pbviously changed even when comparing to Echo, who is meant to be thin in malnourished in that picture.

Crosshair’s mutation goes further than being a great sharpshooter. They literally made him into a white man.

And then I wonder why he seems to be the most popular of the Bad Batch members in the fandom... sigh.

Tech: again, it looks as if they used a whole different base structure than the normal clones. So here we have his “desirable mutation” meaning he’s incredibly smart. He is shorter and less built than the other clones, his hair is lightened, his nose narrower, his jaw narrower and less square... the changes aren’t as drastic as with Crosshair, but he’s still changed to fit more Eurocentric features. Tech is also much shorter than all the other clones? Idk personally I found that strange and unnecessary cause it not only adds to “nerds are smaller” stereotypes, but more troubling, it subtly pushes the notion that the larger brown men are not as smart as the smaller whitewashed man.

Wrecker: I can’t even begin to describe how animalistic they make him seem in comparison to the previous two. While Crosshair and Tech’s mutations are more mental and refined and thus they are given Eurocentric features... Wrecker’s mutation focuses on brute strength and yet he retains the more typical clone features of the show. Yeah idk just look at the picture and the way he acts in the show. He’s better than the first two but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hunter: okay enhancing his senses is... fine. Honestly he’s the least problematic in my opinion. But like... they were not subtle in trying to make him like Rambo. His hair, his facial features, even the bandana. He’s not as whitewashed as Crosshair or Tech, but he is obviously modeled after Sylvester Stalone, who y’know is a white guy.

And then they have Echo elevated to the Bad Batch. @thatfunkyopossum made an art that pointed it out best, but there isn’t really an excuse for how much paler they made his skin. Yes brown skinned people can and do get darker or lighter based on seasons but like... we don’t just lose all our melanin and become completely white if we never get sunlight. I hope they give him some color back for this sequel 😅 [Edit 4/2021: LMAO HE GOT WORSE SOMEHOW]

So yeah. The Bad Batch makes me extremely uncomfortable as a whole, and you won’t see me creating stuff for them (I drew Hunter once for a friend but that’s the extent I’ll get involved with them). It’s fine if you do like them, like I’m not going to hate you or anything, but I did want to write this up because enough people were interested.

I am of course welcome to any discussion about it (both in agreement or disagreement) :) but if you start attacking anyone in reblogs I will not hesitate to block you. *Please check the notes if you want to see the discussion!*

#the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #tw racism #lowkey racism #whitewashing #yeah idk they make me uncomfortable #tea time with hawk #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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By My Side (Part 5)

Summary: The reader has finally hired a replacement manager and after a dinner with her family, she and Jensen confront some underlying feelings...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: mature (language, smut (m/f))

A/N: Enjoy!

A/N #2: Written for @spnkinkbingo

_________

You stretched as you woke the next morning, getting ready for the day of entertaining your family. You bumped into Jensen in the kitchen, a pair of jeans and a simple black henley on him. You smiled but he frowned and you instantly made a face.

“Y/N, don’t turn off your phone ever. It’s a rule, remember?” he said before returning to slurping up his cereal.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot,” you said.

“Please try not to do it again,” he said. He finished with his bowl and you took the cereal from nearby, pouring yourself some. “Are you deciding on a new manager today?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of that David guy?”

“The british one?”

“No, that was the Mark one. He was scottish I think. I’m not positive,” you said.

“Is David the one that had that intern? The little guy?” he asked.

“Alex? No, he was his just his driver. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking of David. What do you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“You did full background checks on all of these guys,” you said. “Who do you trust?”

“Honestly?” he asked. “I like Jake.”

“The young one?”

“He lacks the experience of the others but I don’t see him screwing you over. He was a navy cadet in college. Had to drop out due to a knee injury. Him I trust. Not that I don’t the others but I got a good feeling from the kid.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you said. He stood and you grabbed the milk, Jensen wiping off his mouth. “Have fun with your sister.”

“She’s got a work thing at the moment but hopefully she wraps up soon and I can take her out for some fun for a bit. I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Later, Jay,” you said, getting a wave from him as he walked out. You poured the milk into your bowl and took out your phone, dialing and hearing a ring tone a few times.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Hi, Jake? This is Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you were still interested in the manager position? If you are, you are in for a fun first day with that restaurant photo.”

“Mmm. Smells great in here,” hummed Jensen when he walked into the kitchen that evening. Your mom smiled and immediately rushed over, Jensen tensing up as she gave him a hug.

“Mom. Don’t bug Jensen,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing your brothers were nowhere to be found. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh his arms are even bigger than you said! He’s handsome too,” she said. You rolled your eyes as you worked over the pot at the stove, Chuck turning around beside you and chuckling. “Jensen, this is my husband, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“You know everything about us already, don’t you,” he said as he shook it.

“Pretty much,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s safety is important and knowing about her family is part of that.”

“Well we certainly feel a lot better with her hiring someone. We’ve never been fans of her living alone,” he said.

“Y/N is quite capable. I’m just here to stop those situations from ever happening,” said Jensen.

“You will be joining us to eat, won’t you? Y/N and Chuck are making us dinner,” said your mom.

“That’s very kind of you mam but-”

“I insist,” she said.

“Just let it go Jensen,” you said. “This’ll be done soon if you want to tell the guys.”

Your parents headed outside, Jensen taking up Chuck’s spot beside you and stirring the cooked vegetables in the pan.

“None of them have any idea about the fake kidnapping or anything else, do they.”

“Nope. Nothing besides what happened last night. Michael and Nick know about the manager thing but that’s it. I’d prefer to keep it that way,” you said. The timer went off and Jensen got it, pushing some of the food around with a wooden spoon.

“They won’t hear anything from me,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks. How’d it go with your sister?”

“Good. I need to discuss something with you later after your family is gone for the night.”

“Everything alright?” you asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, the back door opening. “Let’s dig in while it’s hot.”

“Jensen,” you said, finding him out by the pool that night, his feet soaking in the water. “My folks and the wonder twins are gone for the night.”

“Wonder twins,” he chuckled. “They act differently when your parents are around.”

“You picked up on that huh.”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said. You sat beside him and stuck your feet in, Jensen leaning back on his palms.

“What’s going on big guy?”

“Are you asking as my boss or my friend?”

“Friend,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“My sister wasn’t too happy to see big brother on the news nearly getting shot at. She asked me to consider a different line of work,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m not quitting, just so you know. A random guy running from the cops doesn’t scare me. Only reason I was on the news was cause of you,” he said.

“There’s a but in there somewhere though.”

“No, not really,” he said. “Just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“So there’s no problem.”

“I like when there’s no problems,” he chuckled. “My job is a lot easier when it’s simple like that.”

“You still have your gun on you.”

“Precaution,” he said. He sat up and took it out from behind his back. “You ever shoot one?”

“Pretend but real no, I haven’t. Can I hold it?” you asked. He set it in your hands, watching you look it over for a moment.

“You’ve had gun training,” he said.

“First season went through a lot of that stuff on the show. We get refreshers,” you said. “Colt?”

“Yes it is,” he said. “You use a glock on your show I believe.”

Your head popped up and he laughed.

“Yes, even I do occasionally watch TV. Nice gun safety. You never leave your finger on the trigger.”

“Not supposed to, even with a fake gun they taught us,” you said. You lifted it up and held it out, finding it to be heavier than the one you were used to. “I like the grip.”

“You’d probably like a smaller Colt, fit your hands better,” he said. You handed it back to him and he tucked it away. “You see where the safety was on it?”

“Yeah?” you said. He reached behind himself and took your hand, guiding it to the back holster.

“If I can’t use this, grips on the right side. Take it out, flick off the safety, point and squeeze. It’s that simple.”

“I sincerely hope I never have to put that into practice,” you said as he dropped your hand. Your finger brushed against his back, Jensen frozen solid before you pulled away.

“Any day I don’t have to touch it is a good one,” he said, your hand settling back in your lap. “That...tickled was all.”

“Green beans and tickling. You got some funny forms of kryptonite, Ackles,” you said.

“Beats actual kryptonite,” he said. “Been awhile since I’ve been tickled.”

“I bet you like it. Being able to feel vulnerable and safe with someone.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Your feet kicked in the water, a smile growing on your face. He bumped your shoulder and your turned your head. He looked different, a softness about him.

“Are you happy?” you asked.

“What?”

“Are you happy? I...I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose this job over other things in life, like a relationship. You can have both, Jensen.”

“I’m lost.”

“I’m just saying...you can have a girlfriend and be my bodyguard. You don’t have to pick one or the other.”

“Girls get jealous,” he said. “In my experience. The hours are crap. The inconsistent schedule. I’m too…”

“Too what?”

“Last girlfriend I had...I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you lightly nudged his foot in the water. “She thought I was too broken for a normal relationship.”

“What?”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled. He started to stand but you grabbed his arm, Jensen sighing and turning to you. “What? I think she might have had a point.”

“I think that was horrible of her to say and I’m sorry she never saw the real you cause him? He is so not broken.”

“You have this perfect image of me. Strong and capable. Dominant. Alpha. In charge, gives no fucks. That’s the bodyguard. That’s not me.”

“I know. I know Jensen likes being tickled,” you said. He rolled his eyes but you caught his chin, Jensen swallowing. “I know he likes the touch of soft fleece and expensive navy boxer briefs. I know he likes classic rock and sleeping in and likes two cream, one sugar in his coffee. I know he talks to his parents every Thursday night for at least an hour. I know he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know and I know he opens up when he’s well and truly comfortable with someone. I know he’s kind and I know he has nightmares sometimes. I know he can play the piano and guitar and he sings in the shower when he’s happy and he checks on me at night and puts my blankets back on me and doesn’t say a word about it, even when I thought he hated me.”

“You pay attention to me,” he said quietly. “Even though you don’t like me around.”

“I don’t like the bodyguard. He’s okay sometimes but a bit much all the time. But Jensen...him I like. I like him alot.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.”

“You’re not broken, Jensen. I’m never going to believe that so don’t even try.”

He put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m screwed up. We’re not supposed to be friends. Don’t you understand that?” he said. Your nose pressed against his, green eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” you said. “What do you want?”

“I can’t have what I want,” he breathed out.

“You might be wrong about that. Actually, I’m positive you are,” you said, his hand sliding up a few inches into your hair. “Stop being scared and just tell me what you want.”

He leaned in the last inch between you, gentle lips connecting with yours. He didn’t move for a few seconds, eyes opening when he inched away just slightly. You stared at him and you saw him get the message, another kiss landing on your lips, his free hand sliding around your back. Your arms went over his shoulders, Jensen leaving kitten kisses on you before connecting roughly, giving your whole body a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” you breathed out. He moved back long enough to take his feet out of the water. He hoisted you up and carried you inside, your arms and legs wrapped around him as you returned to kissing him. There was a light scratch from the stubble on his jaw and you tugged on his bottom lip, Jensen pausing as he tried to shut the door behind him with one hand.

You took the opportunity to tease him, kissing under his jaw while he got the back door shut and locked, his hand slapping the alarm system and the little ping saying it was armed. He arched his neck back and spun around, pushing you up against the wall. You squeezed him tighter, getting gentle bites along your collar bone.

He tore the two of you away and rushed you upstairs, stepping up onto your bed and walking forward on his knees until he could lower you down to your back. His eyes looked darker but playful as he moved up and leaned over you.

“Condom?” he asked.

“I’m on medication,” you said. “You clean?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Same.”

“Good cause I really don’t think I can wait any longer to do this,” he said. He tore off his shirt and you immediately shot your hands up to his chest, running your fingers down it.

“You’re so damn hot,” you said. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, giving you time to get your shirt off. By the time your head wasn’t covered, you had a perfect view of his ass, creamy and perky. Your bra went off quickly, Jensen turning around and making you pause.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself and then you.

“Lucky me,” you said. He smirked and you kicked off your shorts and underwear, Jensen crawling back on the bed and hovering over you. You kissed him and he planted his forearm by your head, his other hand trailing down to your breast. He kneaded the flesh gently, swiping a thumb over the bud and getting a tiny gasp out of you. He teased the same nipple with light touches and twists before working the other one over.

By the time his hand made its way between your folds you were soaking wet already.

“How do you want it?” he murmured against your lips, circling your clit lightly with his thumb.

“Want what?” you asked, arching your hips up into his touch.

“Slow. Fast. What do you like?” he asked, kissing your jaw as your breath hitched.

“Show me how you’ve imagined this going,” you said. He smiled and you felt the head of his cock brush you folds. He teased the head against your clit a few times before you reached down and were guiding him into your hole.

He was a smidge thicker than you were expecting and his length was perfect, solid, long but not too much. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit up on his lap, your legs hanging around his waist. He thrust his hips up and you bit your bottom lip, landing back down on him. He moved again and hit your g-spot, your jaw dropping.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, kissing you as he started a slow and steady rhythm. You hung on for the ride, his hands on your thighs, thick cock pumping into you over and over and over again. You’d been able to play on your own and hit that spot but never with a guy, never had that low pressure simmering in your core.

God it was going to fucking destroy you when it hit.

You couldn’t wait.

You smiled as your nerves tingled, Jensen kissing you all over, his grip strong but everything else soft and gentle. His hair started to dampen with sweat and and you felt a layer cover your body, the steady pace getting you both closer.

He was nipping at your shoulder when you rolled your hips, Jensen grunting lowly and burying his face in your neck. That was a sound you could definitely do with more of and you did the motion again, Jensen pushing you onto his cock this time. You both moaned, Jensen’s slow pace picking up just a hair.

You were rolling your hips when his tip pounded inside of you and the low pressure started to explode inside you. You gasped and weren’t even sure what the hell kind of sound you’d made, suddenly aware of hot wetness filling you up. Jensen tensed up and slowly started to stop moving, your breath finally coming back to you as he stilled. He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and panted, your hands running up and down his back, playing with his hair some.

You giggled, Jensen letting out one himself and you swore your heart couldn’t have melted any faster. You picked your head up as he did, giving him a long kiss. He rested his forehead on your own, a smile dancing across his face.

“That was the best sex of my fucking life,” you said. He smiled hard and lowered you back down to the bed, holding up a finger. He pulled out and took a few shaky steps before going into your bathroom. He returned with a washcloth, wiping you clean. He tossed it back in the bathroom before he bent down to his pants. You frowned, Jensen looking back as he unclipped his holster from his belt. He walked it over to the unused nightstand and set it on top before he slid next to you. You pushed the covers back and slid under the sheet together, Jensen rolling you close to him and up against his chest.

“I don’t hookup,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You shut your eyes and burrowed in a bit closer, Jensen pulling you to use his chest as a pillow. “I really liked that. It was fun.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he said. He turned his head and you smiled, Jensen moving a stray piece of hair away from your cheek.

“I would be much safer if you slept close by, wouldn’t I?” you asked coyly, Jensen already seeing through it.

“Oh yes, much safer.”

“Maybe you should sleep in here from now on...for safety.”

“In the name of safety, for sure,” he said, kissing your temple. “Real talk for a second. If this is just a hookup for you can you let me now over-”

You put a hand over his mouth and stared at him, slowly moving it away and giving him a kiss.

“I like you, Jensen. I really like you.”

He smiled and took your hand, laying it over his chest so you were holding him.

“Goodnight,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, lightly dancing his fingers over your hip. “Sleep good.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spnkinkbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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whosemorales · 3 years

Text

Peter Meets Rhodey

"Mr Stark, can you pass me the wrench?"

Not looking up from his desk Tony grabbed the wrench and leaned to the right where Peter's voice came from holding it out.

"Thanks," Peter mumbled grabbing the wrench and returning to his work, the room falling into a comfortable silence.

This is how it always worked. Peter would come over to spend the weekend at the tower and they would spend most of their time in the lab, it was awkward at first Peter mostly just sat there fiddling with screws, but now they had fallen into a kind of routine.

Spending time in the lab always helped Peter let off steam, it was just like going out as Spiderman. Although he wasn't fighting criminals, the only criminal thing in the lab was Mr Starks horrible taste in music.

("Kid this is a classic!"

Peter raised his eyebrows and gave him a sceptical look. "I didn't know classics sounded like two vultures fighting over a carcass."

Mr Starks mouth gaped. "You have no taste."

"Says the one who likes to listen to vultures."

"They're not-"

"Mr Stark it's OK. Whatever helps you sleep at night, whatever keeps you... calm." Peter smirked patting him on the back and turning back to his work.)

A beeping sound dragged Peter's mind back to the present and he heard the lab door open. There were only two other people that knew the code to get in. But Pepper was away on a business meeting so that means...

Whipping his head around, Peter's eyes met the one and only Colonel Rhodes. He'd heard countless stories about his and Mr Starks days in MIT and every story after, including what happened in Berlin. But Peter had never met him. (Because Peter hadn't known the extent to Rhodey's injuries)

Mr Rhodes held sort of the same look as Peter, although his was more confusion and shock, whilst Peter's was more surprise and awe.

Mr Stark had yet to notice Mr Rhodes presence his attention to engrossed in the upgrades he was working on.

Mr Rhodes cleared his throat. "Uh, Tones?"

Mr Starks head whipped around at the sound of his best friends voice.

"Rhodey?" Mr stark walked over and clapped him on the back giving him a quick hug. "How ya been buddy, what are you doing here?"

Rhodey moved his head to the side slightly and looked over Tony's shoulder to Peter, who was still sitting there and watching them both.

Rhodey turned his head back to Tony. "Uh I was free and thought I'd stop by for the weekend, can I speak to you outside?" He said quickly.

Mr Stark frowned slightly. "OK," He turned around to face Peter. "Kid don't blow up the lab while I'm gone."

"I'll try not to Mr Stark, no promises though," Peter smirked and turned back to his work.

Tony shook his head and left the room with Rhodey. When Rhodey was sure to door was closed he rounded on Tony who didn't look the least bit phased.

"OK, who the hell is that?"

"It's the kid." Tony shrugged.

"What kid Tony? Is he just some random 14 year you found on the streets?!"

"I'm 15," Peter called not looking up from his desk.

A look of disbelief crossed Rodney's features. "Can he hear us?"

"No that would be creepy," Tony smirked.

"So that's the spider-kid?" Rhodey sighed.

"Spider-Man," Peter calls out again.

Tony smiled and turned to look at Peter who hadn't even moved his head from his desk.

"Pete, but out for a sec I gotta talk to Honeybear privately."

"Sure thing, Mr Stark."

Tony turned back to Rhodey and gave him a nod, telling him that Peter wasn't listening anymore.

"What the hell is he doing here Tony?!"

"He's helping me out in the lab."

"OK, 1. Your both on different desks and it looks like he's in his own little world working on whatever he's working on," Rhodey waved his hand. "And 2. I thought you said you wanted to keep your distance, this," he pointed to Peter. "This is not keeping your distance, this is the opposite!"

"Calm down, Rhodey," he sighed. "Look, the kids grown on me and honestly he makes me feel like a million bucks, which is saying something, I like having him around, he's a good kid. Trust me you'll love him, and he's staying for the weekend so you'll be able to get to know him better."

"OK." Rhodey nodded, Tony smiled and they both turned to go back to the lab. But just as Rhodey took a step his legs buckled from underneath him.

Tony was able to catch him before he hit the floor and helped him sit on one of the chairs outside the lab.

"You OK?" Tony frowned.

Rhodey grunted. "Yeah, yeah, it's just hard trying to get used to this shit, keep forgetting that my legs don't work, the braces help but sometimes this happens."

A guilty look passed over Tony's face, one that Rhodey understood straight away.

"Cut it out," He said sternly. "Tones, I've told you that it's not your fault, stop blaming yourself. It was my choice to fight and it was my fault for what happened. OK?"

Tony sighed but nodded. "OK. Need help?" he questioned standing up and holding out his hand.

"Nah, I'll walk it off." Rhodey joked.

"Yep sure," Tony smirked reaching down he heaved Rhodey up. "You good?"

Taking a few steps forward Rhodey nodded.

"Are your bags all set?" Tony asked as he reopened the door to the lab, Rhodey following closely behind.

"Yeah Happy helped me bring them up."

Peter turned to look at them curiously. "Bags?"

"That's right, Underoos. Honeybears staying the weekend, so you'll have two whole days to annoy him to death." Tony smirked.

"I'm not annoying," Peter pouted.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night kid." Tony winked, throwing Peter's words right back at him, whilst patting his back.

Peter shrugged him off with a laugh.

"Are we going upstairs?" Peter asked noticing how Tony hadn't sat back down yet.

"Sure are bambino." Tony ruffled Peter's hair. "Grab your stuff, have you finished your homework?" he asked as he watched Peter sling his backpack over his shoulder.

"Um, I have a little bit in math, but I finished the rest on the way here."

"OK," Tony nodded. "Well, when we get back up to the penthouse you need to finish the rest before dinner."

Peter nodded as they all walked to the elevator. "What are we having?"

"How does Chinese sound?" Tony asked slinging his arm around Peter's shoulders.

"Sounds good." Peter smiled at Tony.

When the elevator doors opened they all filed in and Tony asked FRIDAY to take them to the penthouse and to order their normal Chinese meal along with whatever Rhodey wanted.

As the elevator went up Rhodey couldn't help but be completely speechless. This was a whole new side to Tony, a side he had never seen before, he was acting like... like a dad?

It was weird, not a bad weird a good weird. He was good at it, it suited him. Whatever this kid had done, he had managed to break down all of Tony's walls. Which literally sounded impossible, so impossible that the kid didn't even know he'd done it.

The elevator doors opened and the first thing Rhodey noticed was the difference. It wasn't huge but it was noticeable.

There were history books spread out on the kitchen bench, mugs with both Iron Man and Spider-Man situated on the coffee table, Iron Man and Spider-Man plushies sprawled on the couch and what looked like certificates and photos hanging on the fridge and walls. Even the atmosphere was different, it felt more like home.

Wow, the kid had definitely left his mark.

"Is my room still in the same spot?" Rhodey asked picking up some of his bags.

"Yep, down the hall, to the left and first door on your right," Tony instructed.

Rhodey nodded and reached to pick up the rest of his bags but Peter beat him to it.

"Oh, I can help you with those," he smiled at Rhodey but seeing the shocked look on his face Peter's smile faltered. "Or not."

"No no," Rhodey held out his hand. "It's fine I was just uh, surprised that's all." The bright smile returned to Peter's face and he headed for the hallway.

"After you do that, straight back in here to finish off your homework!" Tony called after him.

"I know, I know," Peter grumbled back.

When they reached Rhodey's room Peter opened the door and walked in, placing Rhodeys bags at the foot of his bed.

"Thank you, Peter." Rhodey smiled putting his bags beside the ones Peter grabbed.

"No problem, Mr Rhodeys. Oh, and my room is the next one down so if you need help with anything you know where I am."

"Well, I'll be sure to call out. And please just call me Rhodey, everyone else does."

"OK."

Peter smiled and they both made their way back out into the living room. When they got there they both saw Tony sitting on the couch and flicking through the channels.

Peter flopped down onto the couch beside Tony whilst Rhodey sat on his other side."So what are we watching?" Peter asked.

Tony raised his eyebrows at the kid.

"What?" Peter questioned innocently.

"Homework," was all Tony said.

"Urgh! Can I do it after dinner, please!" Peter begged.

"Nope, you know the rules kid, homework gets done before dinner, May would kill us both if it wasn't done, and you know what that means."

"No more visits," they both answered.

Peter sighed and got up from the couch, grumbling as he headed to his room to get his homework, which he dropped off after helping Rhodey.

"Nice pillows," Rhodey smirked.

"Yeah, I know. The kid picked them up a couple of weeks ago, claiming that, 'it would make the boring couch you have look nice'."

"That's not what I said!" came Peter's voice from the hallway.

Rhodey chuckled as Peter came out with his homework, sitting down on the couch closest to the coffee table.

"What I said was, 'it would make that boring old couch you have look better." he smiled innocently opening up his books.

"Kid there is literally no difference."

"Yes, there is. If you're going to make me look bad, at least try and do it properly."

"I would never try and make you look bad, I respect you too much for that," Tony smirked reaching his foot over to nudge Peter's knee.

"Yuh-huh," Peter nodded already engrossed in his homework. -- 10 minutes later, Peter let out a long sigh, dropping his pencil on his book he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I'm done," he grumbled.

Rhodey looked over at the kid and frowned. "Too hard?" he asked thinking Peter was having trouble.

Tony scoffed at his question.

"No I mean like, I'm done, I'm finished," Peter answered not moving from his position.

"To easy?" Tony asked already knowing the answer.

"Yep, it's always the same and it's always too easy. You'd think that by now they would have realized that this stuff is too easy."

"Kid could be an MIT graduate by now."

"So you're that smart huh?" Rhodey looked over at Peter whose cheeks were reddening.

"No I'm not, Mr Stark likes to exaggerate."

"While you're not wrong," Tony smirked. "But I'm being serious, he's even smarter than me most times."

Peter lifted his head to look at the man. "No Mr Stark, that's because most of the time you haven't slept for at least three days so you overlook the simple things," Peter waved him off.

"Boss?" FRIDAY's voice rang through the room. "The Chinese has just arrived."

"Thanks, hun," Tony called back, sitting up he got off the couch and headed to the elevator. "I'll be back."

When the elevator doors closed it was quiet for a minute before Peter turned to Rhodey. "So how's therapy been going?"

Rhodey thought for a moment. "It's hard, but I'm getting there, sometimes I fall but... I suppose I should just be grateful that I can walk. Most people get stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of their life, so I should count myself lucky."

Peter nodded a thoughtful look on his face.

"How did you get your powers? And what are they?" Rhodey asked.

"Well-"

"Dinners ready!" Tony's voice made Peter jump slightly.

Turning to the elevator they saw Tony, arms full of food. Jumping up Peter grabbed some of the food out of the man's arms and set it down on the dining table. "Thanks, Bambi," Tony smiled placing the rest of the food on the table.

Grabbing his food Tony sat at the head of the table whilst Rhodey sat on his left and Peter on his right.

"So as I was saying," Peter continued mouth full of food.

"Wait what are we talking about?"

"I want to know how Peter got his powers and what they are exactly," Rhodey answered for him.

Tony's was quiet for a moment. "How... how did you get your powers?"

"You don't know!" Rhodey gaped.

"Well we kind of skipped that part," Peter shrugged. "Anyway my class went on a field trip to Oscorp and it was my job to take pictures for the school paper. While I was taking the pictures we noticed that one of the spiders were missing. The tour guide didn't seem too phased so we all just kind of brushed it off. I was trying to get a shot of the whole class together- when I felt a sharp pain in my hand like someone was stabbing me. I quickly flicked whatever it was off and when I looked on the ground I saw what I thought must have been the missing spider, it didn't even look normal it was like blue with a red zigzag going down its back. I didn't tell anyone in the group and-"

"Wait, wait. So you've just been bitten by a potentially deadly spider, but you didn't tell anyone because?" Mr Stark raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I-" Peter paused. "I don't know why I didn't tell anyone, but I know I regretted that decision later that night."

"Well, then please tell me that you at least told May."

Peter shook his head sheepishly.

"Jesus kid," Tony buried his face in his hands and let out a long breath before sitting back up. "Continue."

"When I got home I was planning on telling someone but I had forgotten it was their 30th anniversary, May left a note on the fridge telling me that her and Ben would be back later that night, and I didn't want to call them because I knew how hard they had both worked and they deserved it.

"I remember going into my room because my head was killing me, I laid down on my bed but I must have fallen asleep because I remember waking up to this burning sensation all over my body, it felt like I was being burned alive and my headache was even worse now. I remember trying to get up to go to the shower but every step I took felt like I was stepping on knives, when I finally got to the shower I quickly turned the taps on cold, but it didn't help, I'm pretty sure it made it worse because it felt like my skin was being ripped apart, I turned the shower off and tried to make my way into the kitchen where the phone was, but I must have slipped because the last thing I remember from that night was calling for help, I knew no one was coming but I still tried and a little while later I blacked out from the pain."

Tony and Rhodey were both looking at Peter with wide eyes.

Rhodey coughed. "That is not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Peter asked shoving another mouthful of rice into his mouth.

"Not that."

"Continue kid," Tony nodded.

"Well-," Peter swallowed. "I woke up to May's voice she came into the bathroom looking for me and found me passed out on the ground. Her and Ben helped me off the ground and over to my bed, she kept asking me if I was alright, and the thing was I was fine like, all the pain was gone and I felt normal-ish again. But when I was getting ready for school that morning, I realized that I was very far from normal, things kept getting stuck to my hand, I was suddenly strong enough to rip off the door handle by just pulling it, I didn't need my glasses anymore and I suddenly had a six-pack-"

"Hold up, so you woke up and you just had a six-pack?" Rhodey frowned.

"Yep." Peter nodded. "And muscley arms."

"Wait Bambi, you needed glasses? Why was I never told this?"

"Well it's not really that important Mr Stark, plus I don't even need them anymore."

"I need pictures."

"Nope," Peter shook his head, taking a sip of his water. "Not happening."

"And your powers?" Rhodey cut in.

"Oh yeah. Um, super strength and speed, heightened senses, I can stick to any surface and I have this thing I call my Spidey sense, basically it can warn me of a threat before it happens."

"Wow," Rhodey marvelled. "Wait how long ago was this?"

"Um, 3 years ago so when I was 12," Peter answered unphased.

Tony choked on his drink and Rhodey's eyes bulged.

"WHAT! Kid what the hell," Tony yelled shocked.

"What?" Peter asked innocently, eyes growing wide.

"That's so young!"

"Well yeah, but I only ever did small things like muggings or robberies."

"Oh yeah, small things," Rhodey nodded sarcastically.

"Well there's nothing you can do about it now, so there's no point stressing about it," Peter shrugged.

"Jesus Bambi, you see all these grey hairs," Tony pointed to his head. "They're all from you!"

Peter laughed at Tony's dramatics. And that's how the rest of dinner went, sharing stories back and forth. Most stories Peter had already heard, but it was good to hear them from a different perspective, it made them all the more hilarious.

"Alright kiddo," Tony ruffled Peter's hair as the kid yawned. "I think it's time for bed."

Peter pouted. "But Mr Staaaaaaark I'm not even tired!" he whined following his statement with a yawn.

"Yeah, all the yawning is kind of giving off a different message Bambi."

"Please Tony."

"Oh no, don't even try it, Pete, I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work. Nice try tho."

Peter let out a defeated smile following it up with another yawn.

"Come on Peter," Rhodey smiled. "Or you're gonna fall asleep right here."

"OK," Peter grumbled turning towards his room. "Goodnight Mr Stark, goodnight Rhodey."

"Goodnight Pete."

"Goodnight Peter," they both called out as he disappeared down the hallway.

Rhodey looked at Tony with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Tony frowned looking at the man.

"Aren't you going to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight?"

"I'm not his dad."

"Could've fooled me," Rhodey smirked earning a shove in the side.

They both talked for a while longer before bidding each other goodnight and heading to their respective rooms.

-----

"Peter!" Peter spun around to face the voice, his eyes immediately meeting Tony's.

But he looked different. But different how? Peter wasn't sure.

"Why would you do it?" The older man questioned.

"D-do what?"

Tony shook his head, a disappointed look in his eyes. "I always knew you were worthless." he spat harshly.

"What? No Mr Stark." Peter reached out only for the man to disappear and the scene to change.

Now Peter was on his knees his hands dripping with blood and a person's body lying in front of him. Uncle Ben!

Quickly Peter put his hands over the wound trying to stop the blood flow as best he could.

"Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben! Please! It's going to be OK! You're going to be OK, you just have to hold on OK? Please don't close your eyes stay awake please!" Peter begged his hands now soaked in his uncle's blood.

A sudden hand grasped Peter's wrist. Whipping his head up Peter's eyes meets his uncles.

"This is your fault," he spat, blood trickling down his cheek. "I'm dead because of you because you were weak! Did you really believe that you would be able to save people when you couldn't even save your own uncle?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen!" Peter cried tears polling over his eyes staining his face.

"Yes, you did!" Uncle Ben suddenly reached up for Peter's throat his hands dripping with his own blood.)

"No!" Peter sat up quickly in his bed, his sheets were wrapped around him and he was covered in beads of sweat.

"Peter, your heart race and breathing has increased significantly, would you like me to alert Mr Stark?" FRIDAY asked.

Peter coughed wiping the tears from his cheeks. "No, I'm fine FRIDAY, thank you though."

The sound of glass breaking quickly drew Peter's attention. Untangling his legs from the sheets Peter's feet made contact with the nice cold floor as he made his way to the kitchen.

His eyes widened at what he saw. "Rhodey!" he quickly raced over to help the older man off the floor. "Are you OK? What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm OK kid. I just tripped, it happens sometimes, still not used to the braces," he grunted leaning on Peter slightly. "It's hard trying to get used to having no feeling in your legs."

"Did you cut yourself?" Peter asked looking at the broken cup on the ground.

"No, I'm fine."

"Do you need any help getting back to your room?" Rhodey shook his head. "I have to clean up this mess first." He gestured to the glass.

"No, it's fine, I was coming to get a drink anyway so I'll clean it up."

"I can't ask you to do that Peter."

"You didn't, I offered. Now go back to bed, you look like a dead man walking," Peter smirked.

"You are definitely Tony's kid." was the last thing Peter heard Rhodey say before he disappeared down the hallway.

Grabbing the dustpan and broom Peter swept up the pieces and soaked up the water with a cloth. When he was don't he got himself a drink of water and sat down. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to bed anytime soon. His mind wandered over to Rhodey, he couldn't imagine never being able to walk again, having to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. A crazy idea suddenly popped into his head. It was absolutely insane, but it might just work. Jumping up from his stool Peter raced over to the elevator.

"FRIDAY can you take me to the lab?"

"Shouldn't you be going back to bed?" FRIDAY responded.

"Trust me this is way more important than sleep."

When Peter reached the lab he was thankful that Tony wasn't in there. Walking over to his desk he cleared all his previous work out of the way.

"FRIDAY bring up all the medical records regarding Rhodey's injury, including all Dr Curt Conners research on cross-species genetics."

----

2 hours, 5 cups of coffee and a lot of research later Peter was still working.

"FRIDAY, take away 12% of components A and C and then up component B to a sum of 0.2 and run it again," Peter instructed.

"Trial 59 unsuccessful."

"What am I missing?" Peter groaned.

"Peter, if I may?" FRIDAY asked.

"Yeah go ahead FRI."

"I would try adding a different component. Something that counteracts the negativity between A and B but something that can also reprogram all the components to work collectively," she suggested.

"Actually that could work, it's kind of like venom! OK FRIDAY bring up the effects of Fire Ant venom."

----

"Trail 95 unsuccessful."

Peter sighed. "Well, at least we know that sea snake venom doesn't work... Maybe - maybe if we try some of my blood. I mean it's radioactive but the venom is still in my blood and so is my healing factor. OK FRIDAY get a sample of my blood and run it through the other components."

Walking over to his desk Peter picked up his coffee and took a big gulp of it.

"Trail 96 successful!"

"WHAT!" Peter choked on his drink.

"All components in the formula have reacted positively to the addition of your blood. Now that all components are working collectively there is a 100% chance of success." Even FRIDAY sounded happy.

"Shit!" Peter laughed sitting down in his chair.

"Congratulations Peter! You have successfully created a cure for Mr Rhodes."

"No," Peter shook his head seriously. "I've created a formula, now I just have to pray to the Gods it works."

----

"Urgh, what time is it?" Tony groaned squinting his eyes angrily at the ceiling.

"It is currently 9:30 am," FRIDAY replied.

"Why the hell are you waking me up so early?"

"Mrs Potts has asked me to wake you up early whenever Peter is around so that he doesn't feel lonely."

Tony sighed. "Yep, that sounds like her." he nodded flipping the blankets off and getting dressed before making his way into the kitchen.

As he got closer to the kitchen an amazing smell hit his nose, quickening his pace slightly he rounded the corner to see Rhodey at the stove cooking, with a plate of pancakes beside him.

"Oooh, whatcha making?" Tony asked walking straight over to the coffee machine.

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs." the man answered.

"Is Peter awake?" Tony leaned his back on the bench.

"He wasn't up when I got up, so I just assumed he was still asleep."

Tony nodded. "FRI can you please wake up Peter and tell him that breakfast is ready."

"Peter is currently awake and has been since 12:00 last night."

"He's what? Where is he now?"

"Peter is just now stepping into the elevator," FRIDAY answered.

Pushing off the bench Tony walked over to the entrance of the elevator, arms crossed.

"Why didn't you tell him to go back to sleep?" Tony asked the AI angrily.

"Peter said what he was working on was more important than sleep."

"More important than sleep my ass," Tony muttered.

"What was he working on?" Rhodey questioned.

But just as the last word left his mouth the elevator doors opened, revealing a very sleep deprived Peter. He went to enter the kitchen until he saw the look on Tony's face that made him stumble to a stop.

"And why exactly has FRIDAY told me that you've been awake since 12 last night?"

"Damn, FRIDAY snitched on me? I thought we were friends FRIDAY." Peter grumbled.

"Why didn't you go back to sleep."

Peter's gaze just fell to his shoes. "Didn't feel like it."

"You had a nightmare," Tony concluded.

Looking up Peter nodded, Tonys anger disappeared and he let out a soft breath pulling Peter into a warm hug.

"Why didn't you come wake me up, Bambi?"

"It wasn't that important," Peter mumbled into Tony's shirt.

"Pete," Tony pulled out of the hug and rested his hands on Peter's shoulders kneeling slightly. "If it was enough to make you not want to go back to sleep then it was important. OK?" Peter nodded.

Tony frowned. "What's that on your cheek?" bringing his thumb to his mouth he licked it before rubbing it over the dirt on Peter's face.

Peter immediately lept back. "Ew! Tonyyyy! Urgh!" Peter whined pawing at his cheek with his sleeve trying to wipe it off.

Tony laughed at Peter's dramatics and walked back into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

"OK breakfast is ready," Rhodey announced placing the last bit of bacon on the plate.

"What are we having?" Peter asked walking over to the fridge to grab the orange juice.

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs."

"Pancakes?" Peter chirped bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yep," Tony answered taking a seat at the table with his coffee in hand.

"Yes!" Peter pumped his fist into the air. "I'll grab the plates."

Quickly Peter grabbed the plates out of the draw and some cutlery, placing them in the middle of the table for Tony and Rhodey to grab. Rhodey came over with the food placing it in reach of everyone while Peter sat on Tony's right and Rhodey on his left.

"So Pete," Tony reached forward and grabbed some pancakes and bacon. "What kept you occupied in the lab all night."

"That is classified." Peter smiled shovelling a bit of everything onto his plate.

"Oh, so we're keeping secrets now?" Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Well kind of," Peter shrugged. "I guess I'll tell you if it actually works."

"Well, then good luck, Pete," Rhodey smiled.

"Thank's Rhodey."

"This is ridiculous! How come he's Rhodey after one day, but I'm still Mr Stark unless it benefits you to call me Tony."

"It's because Rhodey's cooler," Peter teased reaching his hand across the table to high five Rhodey.

-----

After breakfast, Peter went straight back into the lab. The day dragged on and after the 10th fail and a lot of wasted material, Peter was about ready to give up.

"Everything is right except my blood!" Peter groaned lying his head on the cool glass of his desk.

"Maybe if you try a bigger sample?" FRIDAY suggested.

"No," Peter shook his head. "If the sample of blood is too big then it overpowers the other elements but if the sample is too small then the negativity from the other components makes the formula extremely deadly and it explodes. Like we found out during trial 5," Peter looked over at said beaker which had a crack down the side due to the explosion. It wasn't too big but it scared the hell out of Peter.

"Ok this is my last try before I go and get some food," Peter sighed, sitting up he pulled his finger in front of himself and pricked it slightly with a small pin.

Pricking his finger Peter waited for a small drop of blood to form before dropping it into the beaker.

Expectantly Peter waited for the formula to turn clear, which was a sign that it was the right amount and that it had worked.

But staring into the beaker Peter's hopes shattered, it was still grey.

Groaning Peter got up, his chair scrapping in the tiles. "I need a break."

Getting into the elevator Peter asked FRIDAY to take him to the Penthouse. When the doors opened Peter sluggishly walked into the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich and grabbing a juice box from the fridge, he walked into the living room where Tony and Rhodey were watching TV.

"Hey Bambi," Tony smiled. "Why the sour face?"

"It's not working," Peter whined, plopping down on the couch and putting his food and drink on the coffee table. "I have everything right except for one component, and without that one component the formula doesn't work."

"What's the formula?" Rhodey questioned.

"Well it doesn't matter now, it doesn't work anyway," Peter grumbled taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"If-"

"Peter!" FRIDAY'S voice cut Tony off. "The beaker seems to be changing."

"What?" Peter quickly stood up.

"The formula seems to be undergoing some kind of change.

Peter quickly leapt over the arm of the chair and races toward the elevator. Tony and Rhodey shared a look before quickly following the boy.

When they reached the lab Peter didn't wait for them to catch up, as quick as he could he raced over to his desk and picked up the beaker.

It was clear. It worked!

"It worked!" Peter whispered to himself.

Tony and Rhodey reached the desk. "What worked?" Tony frowned.

"The formula! I did it! Oh my God! I did it!" Peter yelled excitedly.

"Kid! What? Did what?" Tony was lost.

Peter turned to face them both. "I-... Well, I-, I guess-," Peter stuttered.

"Peter has succeeded in successfully creating a formula that will allow Mr Rhodes to walk."

The room fell into complete silence.

"W-what?" Tony's eyes were frantic.

"Well last night, after I helped Rhodey off the ground and cleaned up the glass that broke on his fall, I had an idea and well, I wanted to see if it would work before I gave anyone hope. FRIDAY said that it's 100% safe as long as I got the formula right and I have. So that means-"

"That I can walk again," Rhodey whispered. He wasn't looking at either of them but Peter could see the tears welling in his eyes.

Peter didn't even have time to blink before he was being enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, Rhodey's shoulders shook as he cried. Rhodey wasn't usually the emotional kind, but he just found out he'll be able to walk again. Something he never thought would be possible without braces. And now this kid, this complete angle had created a way for it to be possible.

Rhodey let go of Peter and looked at Tony dead in the eye. "If you ever get rid of this kid I swear, you and I will no longer be friends."

"Trust me, he's not going anywhere," Tony walked forward and wrapped Peter in a hug.

"FRIDAY call Helen and see how fast she can get here."

-----

Rhodey had been asleep for 3 hours. Dr Cho had run every test possible to make sure it was safe, and when she was finally ready she started the operation.

Said operation only took half an hour but Dr Cho had given him a rather large dosage. Now they were just waiting for the moment of truth.

"Do you think it's going to work?" Peter asked. Both he and Tony were sitting beside Rhodey's sleeping figure.

"I hope so Pete."

"Me too, or this was a waste of bloody time," Rhodey joked.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony huffed out a breath. "A little warning would be nice."

Rhodey smiled but Peter could see the fear pooling in his eyes.

"Did it work?" Rhodey wasn't looking at either of them.

"We don't know, we were waiting for you to wake up to find out," Tony answered.

Getting up he pulled back Rhodey's blanket enough to show his feet. "Try and move them."

Peter watched with a hopeful gaze. Rhodey screwed up his face in concentration, everyone's eyes were on his feet, waiting for even the slightest movement. When nothing happened Peter's gaze dropped to his lap.

It didn't work. He had given Rhodey's a very high chance that he could walk again. And it didn't work.

"Rhodey I am so so sorry," Peter could even look at the man, meaning that he didn't see the wide smile on his face.

"It's OK Pete, but I am going to have to kick you out of the tower now."

Tony burst out laughing. "Wow, that was bad."

Peter looked up and frowned. Why were they laughing, it didn't work. A sudden movement caught Peter's attention

Did Rhodey's toes just wiggle?

Peter's eyes widened. "It worked?"

"It worked," Rhodey nodded.

"Oh thank God! Phew!" Peter pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead. "That was stressful."

"Obviously it will take a few more months of therapy to get used to having feeling in your legs again, but other than that your vitals look fine." Dr Cho's voice echoed in the lab.

"So I can go?" Rhodey asked.

"Well, I have no reason to keep you here."

Sitting up as best he could Rhodey tried to get off the bed.

"Woah Woah Woah. Not so fast HoneyBear."

Walking over to the bed Peter and Tony both helped Rhodey off the bed and into an awaiting wheelchair.

"FRIDAY take us to the penthouse please," Tony asked once they were all inside the elevator.

Peter frowned at Tony. "Did you just say please?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." He smirked.

Peter turned to Rhodey. "You heard that to right? I didn't imagine that."

Rhodey laughed. "Nope, I heard it too."

"He may be coming down with a fever," FRIDAY'S voice sounded. "Check his temperature."

Peter's hand flew to his mouth as he tried to muffle his laughed, Rhodey didn't even bother.

Tony just shook his head a look of disbelief on his face. "In my own house." but he couldn't deny the smile that was creeping onto his lips.

When the elevator opened Tony just walked out leaving Peter and Rhodey behind.

"Mr Stark!" Peter quickly grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and rolled Rhodey out, stopping beside Tony.

Tony spared them a small glance before crossing his arms and turning away with a huff.

"Jesus you're dramatic," Rhodey rolled his eyes.

Peter knew exactly how to get him to forgive them. 'Watch this' he mouthed at Rhodey.

"Mr Stark?" Peter asked in an innocent voice. Tony ignored him.

"Mr Stark?" he tried again, Tony still ignored him.

Peter shook his head with a smirk and shrugged. Moving forward he quickly wrapped Tony in a tight hug. This was Tony's third weakness, the first was Peter's puppy dog eyes.

Tony opened his eyes and looked at the kid hugging him. "Nope," he turned his head away.

Peter hugged him tighter. Tony bit his lip and tapped his foot on the ground trying not to hug his kid.

"We're sorry," Peter mumbled looking at Tony with his puppy dog eyes.

Tony let out a breath before wrapped his arms around his kid. "I suppose I can forgive you." bringing his hand up Tony ruffled Peter's hair making him immediately jump back.

"No Mr Stark! I finally had it perfect." Peter groaned trying to pat it back down.

"Who wants to watch a movie?" Rhodey asked.

"Me!" Peter and Tony yelled at the same time.

"Actual 5-year-Olds." Rhodey rolled his eyes.

---------

Later that night they were all sitting on the couch watching Empire Strikes Back. Peter had begged Tony till the point of no return, and he eventually gave in asking FRIDAY to turn it on.

They had gotten popcorn and drinks, a small celebration commencing. The big celebration would be when Rhodey could walk again and boy was it going to be a show stopper.

There were currently 30 minutes left of the film when Tony felt a small nudge in his side. Looking to where Peter sat, he saw the kid had fallen asleep on his shoulder and was snuggling into his side slightly. Tony let a smile spread across his face, and not a fake smile he would put on for the press, a real smile, one that was only for the people he loved, his family.

Putting his arm around his kid he pulled him closer and leaned back into the couch to make sure Pete was comfy. He had well earned his sleep. Tony didn't know what he'd done to deserve such an amazing kid but whatever it was he was grateful, so bloody grateful. He meant the world to Tony and God have mercy on the poor souls who try to take him away, cause God knows Tony won't.

Leaning down he planted a small kiss on top of Peter's head, before turning back to the movie.

Rhodey watched Tony, but it wasn't in confusion anymore it was understanding, he knew exactly why Tony loved the kid, even after only a few hours Peter had grown on him.

"It suits you," Rhodey smiled at Tony.

"What?"

"This whole dad thing."

Tony looked down at Peter sleeping form and he felt an overwhelming rush of love and pride, this was his kid in every way but blood.

Rhodey chuckled. "He's one hell of a kid."

"Yeah, he is." he pulled Peter closer one last time before turning back to the TV.

Rhodey was right. He was one hell of a kid. He was Tony Starks kid.

#irondad #spiderson #spiderman #mcu #marvel #avengers tower #fluff

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ectonurites · 3 years

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I know Jason "came back to life" in the eyes of the public etc but like legit interested in your opinion on this because I'm just confused and interested in how he went about that, y'know? Like wouldn't it take him years? And who does he get to confirm its him and not some rando? IIRC Bruce didn't know he did that until the iceberg lounge thing which is weird if his son came back to life you would think he would testify or something sooner? I just don't know how it would work lol 😳🤔

SO you sent me down a reading rabbit hole.

The thing about Jason’s situation compared to most situations irl is the fact that since he genuinely did die, there was a body and everything. That definitely makes it tricky. However, even though in our minds he was dead a super long time since he was killed in the 80s, he was only really gone for what’s probably 5 or so years by the time in RHATO he’s trying to ‘come back’. It being not even a decade is in his favor (I haven’t found a ruling for New Jersey specifically yet but in Ohio for instance a death ruling can’t be overturned if it’s been more than 3 years, so less time dead is better. But Ohio’s the only state i’ve seen the 3 year thing for so working with 5 should be okay here)

Most cases about people needing to re-declare themselves alive that have happened irl I’ve found are either missing persons who were presumed dead after many years being away (the base line is 7, some states have it as less though), OR the more common situation of literally just clerical error on this thing called the ‘Death Master File’ (apparently like, nearly 40 people get declared dead by accident every day in the US! which is WHACK!)

The grounds Jason would likely try to use is that it was a mistaken body (so somebody else) and he had actually just been missing all this time, which would kinda be a mix between a ‘fraudulent death’ claim and then the missing person type thing. Fraudulent death seems to be one of the harder ones to prove (because most of the time this category is more for people who purposely faked their deaths). In general, the fact that this happened with him as a child rather than as an adult, means there’s less cases I’ve been able to find that are even remotely similar but it also might help him out since there’s less precedent and also it’s more clear it probably wasn’t a like ‘get insurance money/run away from money owed’ scam.

However, identity theft with dead people is like, a pretty common thing, so yeah proving oneself alive is not the easiest process in the world.

But most of the like, ‘things that make being declared legally dead even if you aren’t a really really bad and a lengthy process to fix’ are like, money related (social security, life insurance, bank accounts, property stuff, etc) and for someone like Jason who was 15 at time of death (so not married or owning property) and money apparently does not seem to be a problem for due to his various criminal activities, these wouldn’t be anywhere near as big of a deal. Like, sure a little inconvenient perhaps but definitely not entirely devastating like it can be for the real normal people that this kind of thing happens to. Also, when he bought the Iceberg Lounge, he bought it out from under the fuckin’ Penguin, so like, there’s already some shady shit going on there, so even if he was still in the process of ‘coming back to life’ he’d probably have been able to get that all started.

Also the ‘confirming it’s him’ thing as far as I’ve gathered from what I’ve read doesn’t... anywhere say it actually requires he bring someone from his life (Bruce) to verify it’s him? It’s way more about the combination of your presence & the documentation. So as long as he has photo ID and like as many of his official documents as possible (which. sneaking into the manor to steal his real passport from childhood and other documents like that i think is absolutely something he could/would do especially since like, earlier in RHATO 2016 it’s shown Bizarro’s door thing can literally get into the Batcave. I think it’s not unlikely to assume at some point he thought it could all come in handy and swiped ‘em) he could get the process going. This might differ since he was a minor at time of death but again every real case I’ve found so far was dealing with adults so I’m not sure.

Getting the US government to declare you alive though, like, from what I read can honestly be done as quickly as within a few weeks OR it can take years (but usually the ‘years’ there is more figuring out all that money and insurance related stuff, which again, not as big a deal for Jason specifically)

Another consideration I’d like to bring up is the fact that being presumed/found dead and later turning back up definitely happens a lot more in the DC universe than real life. Like, there’s supervillain attacks and world disasters and shit all the time. I think that realistically in the DCU there is probably a better system set up than IRL for handling cases like this, which would work in his favor.

I also think that due to the fact he was a relatively known person in Gotham, and we know Gotham’s systems are NOT the most uhhhh ‘by the books’ especially if theres public pressure and money being thrown at them, I pretty firmly believe he could have gotten it settled relatively quickly.

In real life it would be a lot harder due to the factor of the body, since he’d have to try to prove that wasn’t him even though it literally was, but liiiike unless Bruce had cashed in big on life insurance and didn’t have the means to pay it back (which this happened years before he lost the fortune LMAO) he should probably be fine, this is a comics world where most problems can be solved if you throw money at them (real life’s kinda like that too of course but comics take it to an EXTREME).

I do agree that Bruce would probably need to have been at least a little aware this was all happening, but for dramatic effect since this is in fact a comic book I understand why they had it be a surprise to him. A panel of Bruce getting a phone call from his lawyer wouldn’t have been nearly as effective as Jason just suddenly being on TV. Also like, I don’t think it’s impossible to rule out Bruce could have known he was in the process of legally coming back to life but not have known he was doing so in Gotham, because Jason being back in in the city was Bruce’s actual problem there.

Also funnily enough one of the cases of a person I found who was declared dead but is still alive was someone with the last name ‘Todd’, weird coincidence world.

Some further reading about real cases of people coming back / things I might have referenced but wasn’t sure exactly where to link along the way: (one) (two) (three) (four)

#Anonymous

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dailylogyn · 3 years

Text

Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the Marvel Comics

Photo Source (by Sexy-Salmon): https://lokisergi.tumblr.com/post/70164902295/siege-loki-problems-it-almost-looks-innocent

Other Logyn Meta’s: https://dailylogyn.tumblr.com/tagged/logyn-meta

Did you know Sigyn was in the Marvel Comics long ago? Did you know Loki had a wife?

Oh...that’s probably because Marvel wanted you to forget their terrible writing mistakes concerning this great Norse Couple.

Let’s dive into this exploration of history where the Marvel writers realized they fucked up on telling a perfectly good couples story, and in the process, setting off a spark of rebellion that caused some retconning and a group of fans to demand justice for both Loki & Sigyn -- not just as a couple, but as their own individual beings.

#JusticeforSigyn #JusticeforLoki #JusticeforLogyn

Where it First Began (Meeting & Marriage of Lies):

In September of 1978, Thor #275 came out featuring the first appearance of Sigyn, Loki’s wife from Norse Mythology. She was introduced as a beautiful Asgardian Loki had randomly come across while looking into a crystal ball inside his castle, wanting to find some companionship to fill his loneliness.

However, when Loki came with riches and jewels to offer her in exchange for her hand in marriage, Sigyn outright rejected him, stating she would never take someone as vile as him, even stating she was already engaged to an Asgardian Warrior part of Odin’s guard -- Theoric.

Unable to accept this, Loki came up with a plan to have her fiancee killed during a mission, resulting in the Trickster taking on the disguise of Theoric in order to take Sigyn for his own. Despite having slightly suspicions of her lover being more romantic than before, Sigyn didn't notice that her lover wasn’t exactly who she thought he was.

Now comes the day of the wedding as Odin marries the happy couple. This was when Loki finally revealed his true self and what he had done. Odin tried to null the marriage, but it was against Asgardian law for even the High Father to do such a thing. Hence, Sigyn accepted her fate as Loki’s wife. This caused Odin to name her the Goddess of Fidelity.

Where it’s Heading (Cargo of Incantation-Fetter’s Arms):

Loki being Loki, he did some shit that ended up with him being imprisoned in a tree by Odin, something that infuriated Sigyn, resulting in her trying to take control over Donald Blake to use over the All-Father as a way to free her husband from his punishment. However, it didn’t work out, resulting in a bunch of other crazy shit happening and putting Thor on their trail.

After Balder was killed, Loki was put on trials for his crimes and received yet another punishment that Sigyn had to protect him from -- having burden over the fact she was “the evil’s wife.” Just like the classic Norse tale, she holds a bowl over his head, shielding him from snake venom and leaving to empty it momentarily when it became full, resulting in Loki cursing her.

Also, Loki and Sigyn had a child -- Narvi, but they died young, being used as the binding to imprison Loki (following the Norse myth too.)

Some more crazy shit happens and now Odin has shackled Loki to Sigyn so he doesn’t cause anymore trouble. Loki of course is not pleased about this one bit. Having had enough of this, he went to Odin demanding to be released, only resulting in him being banished to an outpost.

There Just Might be Hope????:

Some more shit happens again, resulting in Loki being stuck in an astral form and bound to a suit of armor so he could reside in Asgard thanks to Sigyn. A fight happens with Thor, Loki and Mephisto, putting Sigyn in danger. This is when for the first time ever, Loki ends up having a tender confession of love over Sigyn, asking Thor to save her since he could not.

It’s unknown if this is just Loki putting on an act or being real, but you know how the Trickster God can be.

After the battle, while Loki had released Sigyn from her marital vows, his wife swore to always be there for him when he needed her.

And that’s the last we see of Sigyn’s regular appearance in the comics in 1996. She makes a cameo in Avengers: Unleashed #1 in 2019, but it’s nothing more than a flashback to her time of helping Loki.

A Hypothesis & Notes on their relationship in comics:

The whole entire plotline consisting of Theoric and Loki killing him in order to obtain Sigyn is just something most of the fandom doesn’t like. Not only does it objectify Sigyn, but it makes Theoric a Pointless character to introduce anyway, only used as a tool for means in which Loki can get Sigyn, when honestly, he could have done so in a different way.

I like that they stick with Sigyn being the faithful wife of Loki (that’s who she is), but they honestly don’t give her any agency in this besides that trait alone. The writers don’t even let Sigyn be her own damn person! She is SO MUCH MORE than Loki’s loyal wife. SHE IS A FREAKIN GODDESS! I know there is more we can do with her.

Instead of pulling the ‘woe is me, my husband is evil and I’ll just go along with it’ card, something else could have been done. LIKE LITERALLY, ANYTHING ELSE! We know Loki can be a troublemaker, but Sigyn knows how to deal with his shit. She isn’t some damsel in distress here! It’s another reason Loki likes her.

Couples can bicker in times, it’s normal in marriages and relationships, but to have Loki whining about how much of a burden Sigyn is is just....WHY? I mean, you went after the woman and killed another guy for her. This is what you wanted! *shakes head at writers*

I will give them kudos though for some of the stuff near the end when Loki actually starts displaying his true feelings of love towards Sigyn. And sadly we only got a little taste of that...and we aren’t even sure if it was an act or Loki being real.

THE FACT THAT SIGYN ISN’T EVEN IN THE COMICS ANYMORE SINCE 1996. She’s only mentioned, but it’s just as a tale, not as an actual person who USED to be his wife. They literally killed her off. EXCUSE ME! #JusticeforSigyn (We’re still waiting for her in the MCU...)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY TIE-INS:

There were some moments in the comics between them that they writers took from Norse Mythology with them. Thought It’d be important to list.

Loki’s Punishment of snake venom dripping onto him while Sigyn holds a bowl to collect it and shield him.

Narvi being Loki & Sigyn’s son who was killed and his insides used to bind Loki for his punishment.

Sigyn being Loki’s wife.

DIFFERENT WRITERS, DIFFERENT CHARACTERIZATION:

As is the case with everything out there, if you have different writers working on the same project, there is bound to be a difference of characterization and interpretation, resulting in OOC moments or just something completely different altogether. After researching and pondering on this subject, I FULLY believe this is what has happened with Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the comics. Let’s take a look at the evidence I’ve found:

For the comics Sigyn’s creators were Roy Thomas, John Buscema and Tom Palmer.

Loki’s creators for the comics were Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Violet Barclay, and honestly, many others.

My favorite quotes on them from the comics:

Wait? Despite the crappy writing, I actually have quotes I like from the comics? GASP! I call these the only positives from the comics of their relationship.

“My Sigyn-- the love of my immortal life...” — Loki, Thor Annual Vol 1 #19

“Aye-- For only Sigyn, of all in the realm eternal, feels love for Loki. And among all Asgardians, only for Sigyn does Loki feel...” — Loki, Thor Annual #19

“Sigyn loves me-- just as she is the only thing in the nine worlds that I truly love.”— Loki, Thor #483

Photo Source: https://www.zerochan.net/1262293#full

Fandoms Wish for MCU & Future Appearance Justice:

Fans would like to see Sigyn make an appearance, not only in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), but also the Marvel Comics once again. They would like to see Loki & Sigyn’s characters done justice with proper writing, especially regarding their relationship with each other.

This is why there is plenty of fans out there writing Fanfiction, making Fanart, Roleplaying and even Cosplaying them, giving their interpretation’s of what their relationship would be like. This is THE VERY REASON this blog and @sigynappreciation was created to help spread awareness and unite fans who feel the same way.

These characters are very near and dear to our hearts. Some of us even worship them in our religions. We would like to see their relationship grow and portrayed in a way that helps fill the pieces of the missing puzzle to how they came to be in Norse Mythology.

CONCLUSION:

Although their relationship in the comics usually leaves fans grimacing, at least we got to have it explored. Who knows if Marvel will ever touch anything with them ever again, but at least it’s brought together a small community that continues to go strong -- and honestly, that kind of unity is what Loki & Sigyn would want.

So imagine to your hearts content! Draw that fanart! Write those fanfictions! Dress up in that cosplay! Be those characters! But just remember, you have a family here to love and support you.

SOURCES:

Sigyn’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Loki’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)

Sigyn on Marvel Universe: http://www.marvunapp.com/Appendix/sigynthor.htm

Logyn on the Shipping Wiki: https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Logyn

Loki & Sigyn’s relationship through Media: https://www.alehorn.com/blogs/blog/norse-mythology-loki-and-sigyn

#logyn #loki x sigyn #loki and sigyn #Marvel Comics #Loki Laufeyson #sigyn #logyn meta #Constancy & Chaos (Logyn)#justiceforsigyn #justiceforlogyn #justiceforloki

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

Instinct Chapter 3-Act Natural (Spencer Reid x Female Reader)

Warnings: Brief confrontation between a male and female. Mentions of a break-in.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to get this out. In other news...I reached 100 followers! A small but deeply appreciated feat. I am celebrating this milestone over the weekend. Check out my pinned post on what I am doing to say thank you to everyone who has enjoyed my writing.

"Act natural," the bony brainiac mutters to me.

"Given the current circumstances, I think that the most natural response here is to panic...thus I am acting natural," I retort.

"No, they are like predators. They will sense your fear. Act like this is any normal day for you."

"Well, to tell you quite honestly, my days as of recent have been filled with panic, so this is a typical day for me."

"Look, I'm the professional here. So, if you would listen to what I say and do as I tell you!"

"Is Dr. Reid raising his voice?"

"First thing you need to do is stop talking and let me think," he stresses as he rolls his sleeves up.

Enthralled by his sudden burst of authority, I express, "You intrigue me, Dr. Reid."

-----*Three Hours Earlier*-----

The subtle ticking of the clock gradually crescendos into powerful drumming that reverberates throughout the room. The doorknob rattles and my eyes dart to the entrance as Agent Prentiss steps in, "We have some photos we'd like you to come to look at." Hesitantly, I step around the table and follow behind her into the main office. The men and women of the precinct watch as I wander over to the whiteboard that Dr. Reid is standing in front of.

Littering the board is photos of my brother. As I slowly move to get a closer look, my breathing hitches, my hands instinctually cover my mouth in shock and disbelief. "Y/N, can you confirm that this is your brother?" Spencer approaches me cautiously. I can't seem to bring myself to speak. I nod. "Is there anything you can tell me about these particular photos or dates," he asks, brushing his fingers over specific pictures and scribbles of numbers on the whiteboard.

A realization strikes me as I examine the images more closely, "No. But I do recognize the people in the background." "You do? Can you identify them?" Agent Prentiss advances towards me. I point towards one of the grim figures lurking in the background of my brother's photo, "That's the man who was in my apartment."

"You said you didn't know who your attacker was," Emily says, obviously not trusting my statement.

"I'd know those eyes anywhere."

"HOTCH!" Spencer shouts.

About an hour later, the team is on a call with their technical analyst. The local chief investigator is interrogating me. "Come on, Y/N, don't play stupid with me. You and Jeremy were inseparable. You cannot possibly believe that I would fall for this innocent little act of yours. You are harboring information on a notorious gang in this city!"

"Oh please, Castillo, you've been a cop for as long as I've been alive. The Nomad Boys have been around for just as long. Not once have you put this much effort into catching them. Is this because the big guns are here? You want to seem all tough and in control for them, but once they're gone, you and I both know you will go right back to hiding in your little office, ignoring the concerns of the people of this city," I oppose.

Castillo vehemently lunges forward, "You think that I am the only one putting up some farce, while you pretend to be the naive little sister here whose older brother can do no wrong. I don't buy it for one instant. You may have that little boy band member wannabe wrapped around your finger, but don't believe for one iota of a second that you can dive under my radar. This entire town knows that you are third-generation scum, and I can promise you that this kind of pattern will stop with my reign. Do I make myself clear? Or do I need to repeat myself for emphasis?"

"No need. I ignored you just fine the first time," I swipe at the detective.

He surveys my body language. I cross my arms, perhaps in the way of shielding myself from intimidation or in a manner of faining his lack of influence on me. Castillo opens his mouth to speak, and in a perfect streak of luck, Spencer comes over to save the day.

Nearing us, he speaks, "Y/N, we want to go to your apartment and see if we can't determine what the man in the picture was after. I'd like for you to come with us and give us some insight into whatever we find."

I agree to go and follow him and Agent Morgan to the car.

(Spencer's POV)

Quietness permeates the entire car ride to the apartment. Morgan continuously eyeballs me, and finally, my nerves get the best of me, "Would you stop that!?" Derek wryly grins and then glances into the rearview mirror to look at the Y/N in the back, "You know, kid, growing up, I ran with the wrong crowd by association too."

She scans her eyes over the both of us, and her stare lands on me. Once again, her pleading eyes permeate my thoughts, clouding my reasoning. There is no place for her among the faction that we are investigating. If she is involved with them, it's against her better judgment...or even her will.

"By association?" Her nostrils flare, "My brother and I didn't--wouldn't run with the Nomad Gangs. Our father was ki-" Her voice tapers off as she pulls at the fraying cuffs of her jeans.

That can't be right. I've scoured her family's files, and the only information divulged about her father's death is that he was killed in a car accident in 2000.

"A member of the Nomad Boys killed your father, didn't he?" Morgan questions.

Looking back at her, I watch her slump against the seat and her eyes dull. The silence infiltrates the air once again. As the car arrives outside of her apartment, I internally thank the heavens for a break from the awkwardness. Motioning to my counterparts, we gather outside of the vehicle and trek into the residence building.

"I've lived here for five years now. I moved shortly after my brother died. My parents had an apartment in this building when they were newlyweds. The stories they shared with me about this place stuck with me, so when I was finally out on my own, this was the place I gravitated towards," the young woman says timidly, pulling the cuffs of her sleeves over her fists.

As we near the door to her apartment, she picks at her cuticles apprehensively. Her eyes concentrate keenly on Derek's movements as he inserts the key into the lock. The door creaks open, and we are met with a home left in shambles.

"Reid," Morgan turns around, "we did not leave this place looking like this."

Stiffening up at the unsettling sight, I say, "They left the first time empty-handed. But, Y/N wasn't the only target. So, they came back to salvage what they could acquire. The question is, what was it?"

"And did they find it," Morgan adds.

Worried, I look back to see Y/N wide-eyed and trembling. I hurry to her side and brush my hands over her shoulders, "This is unsettling, I know. Take a moment if you need to, but we will require you to look over everything here and see if anything is missing or seems out of place. See if you can piece together what it is they were looking for."

Raking her hands through her hair, she starts scouring every last inch of her apartment, picking up papers, knick-knacks, tearing apart whatever is left to ravage.

"We got a problem," Derek announces, peeking his head out of the front doorway, "Two unknowns headed right this way. Reid, can you identify them?"

I station myself next to him, cautiously leaning into the hallway, and I catch sight of them.

"She needs more time," I grab his arm. He nods, "I'll try and buy you some time."

Stumbling back into the home, I hurry over to the driven girl. "Two of the men seen following your brother are headed this way. I need you to keep looking just...faster. Once we run out of time, we need to get out of here without them recognizing you. Do you have some sort of hat or glasses you could wear out?"

She stiffens up as if frozen in place.

Nice going Spence, you've terrified her.

Attempting to remedy the situation, I do the one thing I can always fall back on, I rambling.

"Y-you knows, the fear response takes place in a section of the brain known as the amygdala, located in the temporal lobe or...in--in other words, the supercomputer part of your brain. It causes us to revert to the primitive senses of our minds. We often call this the fight or flight response. It manifests itself in a shortage of self-control and rash decision-making."

(Reader's POV)

I draw in a long breath, listening intently to his tsunami of words. At last, he stops to compose himself.

This man would kill on Broadway.

"So what you're saying is?" I probe.

"Act natural," the bony brainiac mutters to me.

"Given the current circumstances, I think that the most natural response here is to panic...thus I am acting natural," I retort.

"No, they are like predators. They will sense your fear. Act like this is any normal day for you."

"Well, to tell you quite honestly, my days as of recent have been filled with panic, so this is a typical day for me."

"Look, I'm the professional here. So, if you would listen to what I say and do as I tell you!"

"Is Dr. Reid raising his voice?"

"First thing you need to do is stop talking and let me think," he stresses as he rolls his sleeves up.

Enthralled by his sudden burst of authority, I express, "You intrigue me, Dr. Reid." He stills momentarily as if he's translating my statement from some foreign language.

Motioning to my closet, I suggest, "Take a look in there and see if you find anything that could work."

______________________________________

Tag list:

@chellybear98 @destiny-tsukino @wanniiieeee @sweetiecake180 @vampiracontessa @weexinling @spaghetti-dad187 @hothskies @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @mac99martin @mcntsee @ssagube @yougottalovefandoms @halloweenwithreid @pancake2603 @theoldestguard @chazubagi @frogrrylovebot @weasleytwinsimpp @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @kenzies-mr-j

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

Text

FMA:B/BNHA Crossover (2)

Summary: Ed gets stuck in the BNHA world after the end of brotherhood. He starts trying to find a way home and ends up inadvertently working for the league of villains.

Part 1 here

At one point, the ground level of Ed’s building had probably been a nice-looking shopfront, maybe a flower shop or grocers or something more befitting this weird world…like a tech repair store. Now, the ground level doubles as apartment space, large windows caked with dust and grime, curtains permanently drawn to hide its occupancy. Heck, if Ed hadn’t been around to fix the glass with alchemy the ground floor would have been pretty much unliveable. Like many buildings in the area, it was a victim of a villain/hero confrontation which always seemed to generate an obscene amount of property damage. Great for leveraging his repair skills in exchange for free accommodation and about nothing else. Not that the people here saw it as much of a problem.

Ed scowls, flipping his OPEN sign to CLOSED, yanking the door shut, locking up as he goes.

Ed doesn’t quite understand the whole thing, and he had had one of the worst track records for property damage when it came to state alchemists. The difference being that he had always returned to reverse as much of the alchemical damage as he could and if he couldn’t Mustang had some other military alchemist/personal waiting in the wings to see to the problem. Rebuilding here was the responsibility of some external agency or other. Ed is a little hazy on how the system was supposed to work, seeing as the military had little to no involvement with anything hero related. Though, considering how the Amestrian military had been in the process of feeding the souls of its citizens to a loosely defined truth God, maybe that was a good thing. Honestly, researching how this place ran its bureaucracy was low on his priority list.

“Hey! Ed! You’re out early? Off somewhere interesting?”

“Did you see the guy who just came through here,” he asks, eyeing his fellow apartment-liver who seemed to have nothing better to do than loiter outside and yell at people on the street. The greasy-haired man is puffing smoke near the corner of the building with his two equally scruffy friends. They all have a physical abnormally, a lizard tail, claws, bulging eyes, that remind him uncomfortably of chimeras despite knowing it was a result of more quirk bullshit.

The guy blows smoke in his direction, “Big, tall dude? Pretty suspicious looking with the hood and all. I saw him go in. Didn’t see him leave …funny that.”

“Yeah…funny…” Ed mutters, “Did you recognise him?”

“I might have.”

Ed huffs, rolling his eyes and continues down the road. He would leave bribing his neighbours for possible information as a last resort.

He passes the vacant lot holding a near identical half-collapsed block, followed by another nicer looking building, then another, before they gave way to shops and smaller structures. That was something he was still getting used to…the sheer scale of the city. Even Central had barely been a quarter of this city’s size. Luckily, his destination isn’t too far so he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost.

The building he arrives at is taller than the rest and full of office space. The main lift is out of order so Ed trudges up three flights of stairs to the top floor, stomping into the empty reception/waiting area only hesitating for a second before slamming his hand onto the bell sitting atop the front desk.

There is a muffled voice, “I’m coming. I’m coming. No need for that racket!”

The door behind the desk swings open.

“Edward?”

“Hey, old man,” he gives a small wave, “It’s been a few weeks.”

The man, tall, well-built, cropped brown hair, stares at Ed.

“Yeah it’s been a few weeks! You need to check your phone and answer your messages every now and then. You’re giving me grey hairs. More grey hairs!”

“Right…my phone….” He forgot he had it when not using it to help with navigation. Also, messaging was a pain. He had picked up the local spoken language fast enough out of necessity, but his reading and writing were still a work in progress. Lucky for him, this reality had a few languages similar enough to Amestrian that if he really wanted to read something he could get a translation. It still made written communication tricky.

“I'll try and check it more often," he placates, "I’m here for some information about a job I was offered and seeing you know a bunch of the local businesses I thought I would drop by.”

“Information?” Masao Uraraka lets out a long breath, “And there I went thinking that you were going to take me up on my apprenticeship offer.”

Ed shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. The older man grunts, “Well come on through. You’re lucky you caught me in the office. I’m usually on-site supervising about this time. But, can’t do much of that until those idiots at HC Construction.co get the go-ahead from their insurance company.”

Ed slips past and into a dimly lit office space which is surprisingly well organised. Across the wall is a collage of family photos, depicting a woman and young girl at various stages of growth.

“…that’s not your problem though. How have you been kid? Hope you haven’t been in too many fights.”

“Hey,” he objects, “Some idiots need a good punch,” and then adds a little less aggressively, “But no. No fights. I’ve been researching quirks....”

“Quirks. That’s different? Weren't you studying chemistry or something?”

Ed shrugs again, unwilling to divulge much else. Uraraka tended to be nosey out of some misguided notion that he could help Ed ‘get back on his feet’ after whatever tragic backstory he had cooked up for him.

“You’re still living at Old Man Watanabe’s right? He not pulling anything is he? Old coot always tries to weasel more out of his deals.”

Ed can’t help but agree, “He’s been trying to get me to re-wire the whole building. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Of course, this just sets Uraraka off on a round of angry muttering, “Is that right? I can have a talk with him. I’ve told him that he needs an electrician and a proper plumber. He owes me a few favours so I can… ”

“It’s fine,” Ed quickly interrupts. Uraraka had his own problems and family to look after. The guy reminded him of Hughes in that he cared way too much. “One grumpy landlord isn’t worth worrying about.”

Uraraka visibly deflates, “Yes, well, most kids your age shouldn’t be worried about that sort of stuff at all. You should be finishing up your schooling, getting your Japanese up to scratch and studying for college entrance exams. You remind me of my daughter. Stubborn.” He pulls a framed photo from his desk, pointing it at Ed, shaking it for emphasis, “She wants to be a Hero you know. A HERO! Can you believe it! My cute little girl, getting into fights with villains.”

Ed clears his throat awkwardly. Yeah, this guy was definitely this world’s weird version of Hughes. If Hughes had worked in construction and had, you know, not died. This isn’t the first time he has had a picture of Ochako, Uraraka’s daughter, shoved in his face.

“About that information?” He cautiously interrupts and gets another sigh.

“Yes, yes. You kids are always so impatient. What’s this job then? What idiot is going around hiring 16-year-olds.”

“Actually, the guy that came in just mentioned some construction work,” Ed rubs his neck, now slightly subconscious, realising he doesn’t have a whole lot to go on, “he didn’t give me a lot of details, just left this.” Ed pulls out the envelope placing it on the desk next to the assortment of framed photographs and scribbly kid drawings.

With a raised brow, Uraraka pulls it towards him, peering in. The man’s eyes widen and he closes the envelope, frowning, “This supposed to be a down payment in advance of a job, or is it for material costs? Because it’s a bit much for a down payment and nowhere near enough for materials. Not if it’s for anything serious. What sort of work is it? You know I can’t lend you equipment without a licence…but I’ll help you source anything that you…”

“No,” Ed rushes to interrupt, “the guy said it was a sign of goodwill. I take it that’s not a normal thing people do in the, ah, construction business?”

“No. It definitely is not,” Uraraka now looks concerned, “there would usually be a contract for services before any sort of payment. Especially, if you’re going to be working as an independent contractor.”

So that just confirmed what he already knew. Ed continues, “So you haven’t heard about people asking around for under the table construction work then?”

“No. I can ask a few of my freelancers if they’ve had similar offers but I deal above the board with licenced workers only, so it’s unlikely they’ll have heard anything.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He glares at the envelope.

“What did he look like? This man that came in?”

“Oh, he was tall, made of dark purple smoke and had a teleportation quirk…I think. He also asked about my quirk and its limits.”

“I’ll keep an ear out.” Uraraka promises and frowns at Ed, “I hope you’re not considering this offer.”

Ed grunts noncommittally and gets a look of disapproval that reminds him so much of Hughes its almost painful. He tries not to feel disappointed at the lack of answers because coming to Uraraka had always been a long shot. ‘You’re sad, lonely and the only conversations you’ve had this last week were yelling matches with your landlord and neighbours. Uraraka is a nice man. Of course, you would come to him for advice.’ A voice that sounds suspiciously like Al chimes in. ‘I don’t want him to worry. I’m not staying here long. What’s he going to think when I suddenly disappear,’ he snaps back and immediately feels foolish.

Maybe the isolation is getting to him a bit.

“If it's money you need that I’m more than happy to help you get licenced and certified…” Uraraka continues to talk oblivious to the fact that Ed is barely paying attention.

He doesn’t want to settle down and get a popper job or finish off his schooling or talk to youth services or whatever other things Uraraka had brought up in the few months they had known each other. That would be admitting defeat. Also, he had no ID or history and he was pretty sure you needed both to work any legitimate jobs.

“I can handle myself,” he says out loud.

“Yes, you’re worryingly self-sufficient but there is a difference between unlicensed quirk use and aiding and abetting criminals. No self-respecting, above board, organisation hires a kid to do construction work and throws a bunch of money at them.”

“I know.”

Yeah, he knows Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was probably a criminal of this reality. He knows he is probably getting himself into something dicey and illegal but he needs to follow whatever lead he can to get back home. Finding a quirk with either the ability to transport him between realities or one with the power equivalent to a few thousand souls was his last hope of ever hearing Al's, the real Al’s, voice again.

The older man rubs his forehead, visibly exasperated, “But you’re going to ignore me. Stubborn brat.”

#fma brotherhood #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma:b #bnha #mha #fanfiction #CrossOver #edward elric #Uraraka family #dimension travel AU #my hero academia #fanfic

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Climb Chapter Three

Masterlist

This time Clark isn't going to let you get off with a warning hell bent on giving you a punishment you wont forget... but with you bent over just he couldn't help himself.

Warnings: Adult situations 18+, Spanking, Smut, Daddy kink, Size kink, dirty talk, humiliation

A/n: so been working on this for a while, got a few more things I’m writing atm which should hopefully be finished soon, i do hope you enjoy xx... P.S Its another long boi...sorry xx

dividers by @writeyourmindaway

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @magdelen69 @iloveyouyen

A Climb Chapter Three

Clark watched as you made your way across the office coffee in each hand and a paper tucked under your arm. You smiled placing his coffee beside him. It was one week since the whole superman discipline fiasco and you and Clark was officially a couple. He smiled sweetly thanking you then peered uneasy into the cup hoping it wasn't another ginger spice crappy frappie thing.

"What is it today then?" Looking at the frothy milk already pulling a face at it you laughed at his expression then leant on his desk.

"Coconut latte, honestly Clark you haven't even tried it yet, broaden your horizons live a little, you can't just stick to the same boring black coffee every single day... Go on try it its sweet just like you, I promise you'll like it." He scrunched his nose, coconut? In milk and coffee? He looked at you as you sipped your own drink.

"I happen to like black coffee... But you did buy it so I might as well try it...I'd hate for you to waste your money" he said taking a hesitant sip as Lois came over eyeing you both curiously, you mouthed coconut to her and she shook her head.

"You trying to get him on fancy coffee? Not sure if that will work but I admire your efforts" you both watched as Clark hummed and nodded before taking a second sip. You smiled laughing as he refused to put the cup down taking slow drags from it now and then.

"See I told you~" you said in a sing song voice. Then placed the paper down beside you on the desk.

"Soo whats on the agenda for today then girls and boys?" Lois shook her head at your antics, having you around the office was effectively having a child in the building. A fully grown 5ft fuck all fearless, sneaky child, which is exactly why she needed you ,you were to all intents and purposes a fucking ninja...Or at least you should have been.

"Well y/n I was hoping I could steal you from Clark for a while?" You tilted your head at her

"Define a while?"

"Day or two? I need someone who will keep up with me." You mulled it over taking another sip ,that normally meant she was either doing something she shouldn't and needs a photographer she could trust or needed you to do some behind the scenes acrobatic snooping. You ignored the way Clark's eyes wandered over the two of you carefully.

"What's the story?" Her face lit up as you asked

"Got a lead on that chemical leak down by the Lex corp labs, its causing symptoms similar to the victims of nuclear radiation, immunity failure, it hasn't killed anyone...Yet anyway, but there are fourteen people hospitalized and they are trying to white wash it as some industrial strength cleaning solution accident." You tilted your head at her nodding slowly sounds like a major cock up on the lab's part.

"Yep fine, you want me to get my stuff now or-" you was interrupted by Clark placing a hand on your thigh squeezing the strength shocked you as he pinned you to the desk you were seated on.

"No" both you and Lois looked at him and started speaking first

"What? Clark its fine she will be with me" she said you continued

"Yeah it will be okay I'm not even leaving the city this time" he stood still holding your thigh under his heavy palm squeezing it tightly making you wince a little then released it, he moved standing close shielding you from Lois slightly puffing out his chest looking down at you making you gulp a little as your clit tingled at his imposing stance you wet your lips a little. He tilted his head looking sternly at you.

"I said no,Love your not going running in to god knows what. We don't even know what that stuff is?" He added waving his hand around .You grit your teeth and pushed him back a little you and stood at your full height jabbing him in the chest, then shook out your finger as it had hurt.

"Well that's the point of going isn't it you know investigating what it is? Look I know your worried but if they are doing some freaky chemical testing shit then its dangerous! Besides I'm just going to take photos of the facility. Nothing will happen we will be extra careful wont we Lois?"

"Of course we will just photos and statements that's all promise" she backed you up he looked between the two of you and sighed.

"Lois no that place is to dangerous, the things they have there-" he caught himself but Lois didn't click ...Or really listen to him, it was a story. Her story you hesitated. At his statement sparing Lois a glance.

"Clark people have a right to know if Lex corp are doing Illegal testing!" he grunted ignoring her turning to you pointing at you

"I said no...And I mean it, I'm not playing around you know what will happen if you ignore me, he is still on your tail I will find out" you took a step back at his severe look and reluctantly nodded he was serious, you pivoted to Lois giving a apologetic look.

"Lois ...It does sound a bit iffy...Lets look for another story from Perry" you winked at her discreetly nodding to the elevators she huffed turning in a strop making her way across the office, you sighed as Clark sat down at his desk rolling his eyes.

"Great now shes in a mood"he sighed

"She'll get over it....Thank you for dropping it, I love you" you froze insides twisting with guilt already as he pulled you down to his face giving you a kiss you smiled at him sweetly before looking away towards Lois and grimanced watching her stalk towards the elevators all but crushing the buttons

"I'll go talk to her" he hummed in agreement

"Okay be safe love" looking back to his screen and beginning to type his own article as you made your way to her sneakily still having your bag over your shoulder and quickly made it to the elevator slipping in beside Lois.

Once outside you sighed walking along side Lois she looked up at you smirking, you both high fived.

"Soo you and Clark huh? Never got the full story on how that finally happen?"You blushed not sure what to say not like you could say superman spanked you like a child for climbing buildings then delivered you to Clark for another scolding.

"We err yeah we argued over something silly and he sort of screamed he loved me, not exactly romantic but that was it" she smiled nodding.

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest, he has had his eye on your for a while, been telling him for months to ask you out he was to shy." You laughed yes that sounded like him. You did feel a little uncomfortable after all Lois was his ex. She gave you a side glance

"What did he mean back then in the office?" You flushed chuckling

"Oh that who knows with him I mean come on this is Clark hes a bit backwards isn't he?" She couldn't argue there then it got quiet noticing your mood change and sighed she wasn't going to let this cause a rift between you both, she'd been working with you for nearly six years you were friends.

"I don't mind you know, it didn't work out between Clark and I, I wish it had but it just didn't, honestly I knew he liked you after he started working with you, when we was still together, I could feel it, that's why I ended it... I wasn't the one he truly wanted, I was just the first he opened up to sometimes I think he just felt obligated to be with me but if you hurt him you'll have me on your case you got that?" You nodded smiling at her softly.

"Thank you, I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore that's why I've avoided you a bit." she laughed and pushed you a bit making you weave around a small group of businessmen then come back to her side.

"Course not don't be stupid, by the way you do know were sneaking in don't you?" You grinned waving your slightly smaller camera

"Why do you think I've got this bad boy? and I brought my new go pro , got this new one better pixels and its more stable just have to change shoes when we get there trainers are in my bag. So what do you think it is? Some poison? Or nuclear type thing?" She hummed

"Always prepared huh? And I'm not certain but it could be a weapon? Apparently Lex corp has been trying to get government contracts for military imports and exports, I think it was a a chemical weapon test gone south."

"Military? Was they approved?" She shook her head stopping beside you

"No it was denied and its the fifth time this year they seem desperate and I think its because they already have weapons and are testing them but technically until they get the contracts what they have been doing is illegal. It could ruin the whole Luthor name, tear down their empire." you followed her to the cab she had waved down both jumping in the back she told the driver the destination.

It took just over half an hour to reach the labs, as always you had gotten out and walked the last few minutes. you used your cameras zoom using it as binoculars.

"Red, we got a problem. Security and they are packing some serious heat.... But look that's the one right? with the big tube tent thingy?" she huffed hands on hips thinking, you used the time to snap some photos capturing some shots of the armed security, you noticed they gave the sight of the incident a wide birth veering around it on every pass,you cursed as two stopped spotting you, you quickly shifted slightly.

"Pose pose!! quickly!!" she did as she was told holding her hands up and popping her hip out to the side and you snapped another photo you noticed the security shake heads walking away.

"That's it done" she dropped her hands it was a trick you had both developed use Instagram like poses for cover you nodded to the building.

"You go cause a fuss I will use the distraction to get in, if you get turned away go wait where we got out of the cab try to hold out for as long as you can okay? I will be as quick as I can if I'm not out in thirty minutes go home." she looked hesitant as you crouched finishing swapping your shoes for trainers tightening your laces double knotting them tucking the ends in.

"Leave? you want me to leave you there?"

"Yeah don't worry I will get out I always do but if things go south I don't want to worry about you to, no offense but your not as fast as me" you said taking a small pouch from your bag clipping it to a belt loop on your trousers passing her your satchel tucking your camera in to your pouch then attaching the go pro to your head, it was smaller then your other one and this one saved your live stream to the cloud, so even if you lost dropped or broke it the film was intact.

"Okay if your sure.. Just please be careful I don't think Clark would ever forgive me if you got hurt" you nodded to her

"I'm not going to get hurt now go, wait until I'm at that fence at the bottom" she nodded watching you jog to the very far fence, you turned back looking at her nodding watching as she approached the security gate.

You turned the corner the finding a weak spot in the fence , it was a basic chain link one that you could easily roll up, your guess is they were trying to look unassuming. You didn't bother taking a photo you could pull stills from the go-pro footage. The security cameras moved in slow sweeping motion's across the open space you counted there was a thirty second interval that was clear as they moved, thirty seconds didn't seem much but you would be amazed what you could achieve in that time you planned your route, make it to the large truck parked half way across the concrete then a run jump and wall climb and you’d be on the first roof out of view of the cctv using the electricity box to spring off.

You took a deep breath then moved sliding under the chain link fence and rushed tucking below the truck, taking a deep breath as the adrenaline kicked in, peeking as the cameras rotated then made your move again sprinting and using the electricity box to propel yourself to the roof grunting as you held the edge quickly scrabbling your feet and rolling just in time. Taking a moment you calmed your breathing and got up crouching looking left and right seeing a durable looking gutter, it was close to the edge and you'd be in plain sight for the climb, but Lois was down there being Lois so you was certain no one would see you.

You had to trust she would keep them occupied, grabbing the gutters attachments you planted your feet either side cupping your hands behind the pipe, the trick was to keep a steady rhythm you made the climb breathing steady until you reached the top a little out of breath and stood, no one of ground level would see you from here, this roofs height was almost at three stories. Peering over the top you saw the guards watching as Lois made her way down the side of the fence going to the meeting spot.

You stood back slowly looking around there was a small hatch that looked like a maintenance shaft that would be your entry point then. Walking towards it you pried it open shimmying down inside there was a small ladder and a platform at the bottom attached to a cat walk around the room. You crouched on the platform looking over the huge space. One huge room that looked almost like a warehouse apart from plastic dividers cutting it into smaller cubicles each looked like mini science labs various apparatus and small machines in each then there was a wall with huge glass window inside two massive industrial sized vats at the other end with pipes feeding whatever it was holding into a few smaller canisters, people with full on hazmat suits and bubble masks entered and left via a decontamination chamber as other people walked around transporting the smaller canisters in glass boxes on trolleys taking out your camera you snapped shots of the room the zoom picked up more then your go-pro ever could.

You pointed the camera zooming on various items you did a slow walk round getting close ups of the activity in and around the place, most of the stuff looked.... Medical? For some reason, vials and syringes and drip feeders that type of stuff. Finally you found what you was looking for zooming in on a large board that has diagrams all across it depicting the vats and smaller containers, but couldn't make out any writing. Sighing you crouched speed walking down the cat walk finding a spot with a better view from here you could work out what it says....Theralizumab (tgn1412) what the fuck was that? A drug or something? For some reason it sounded familiar but you couldn't place it. You leaned closer taking more photos of the table beside it all showing different scientific calculations and symbols then quietly spelt the main name out loud for your go pro as a back up.

You froze and crouched lower as a gun wielding guard came in Through a side door looking around talking on the phone as he made for the stairs across from you. Shit. You had to get out, deciding to call it quits you retraced your steps. Once you made it to the ladder you quickly climbed it making it to the roof safe and sound, you peaked over the to where the groups of guards had been but they were scattered about patrolling again you swore. Things are definitely turning south. You must have spent longer looking around than you thought. You took a deep breath before slipping down the gutter aiming to leave the way you came. As if things couldn't get worse the truck was gone. You would be spotted before you got out hearing a voice from above your stomach dropped quickly you dived against the wall.

"There’s no one here, yes I've looked , nothing on the cat walk or roof.... Jerry is just seeing things...... well he's been paranoid since the explosion.... yes well he should suck it up think himself lucky......pfft that's what he's saying he wasn't anywhere near it to be hit with this shit......no point, looking at what it did to those in England they will probably be dead in a few days, wouldn't surprise me if he let em to cover up........ I will check now yes alright be down in a minute." You held your breath as you heard the foot steps moving closer your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. He would see you. He would see you and shoot you and you'd die, because he would shoot you and you'd be dead. You panicked looking for somewhere to hide as he got closer to the edge.

"Fuck! Show me your hands!" He shouted you rolled away and made a break for it as he fumbled with his gun aiming it at you firing. He missed hitting the roof by your feet making the gravel spray up hitting your ankles making you hiss,your heart skipped a beat as you closed your eyes ducking and screaming diving in a zigzag towards the edge with every intention of throwing your self off it was only one story hopefully you’d make it. You flinched hearing him run down the length of the building you held your breath waiting to feel a spray of bullets as you neared the edge. But there wasn't any. just a sudden gust of air a warmth at your back you flinched closing your eyes fearing the worst as someone grabbed your waist quickly tugging you towards them, then they seemed to jump your feet left the ground and you grabbed at the arm in shock opening your eyes the saw a flick of red before closing them again as you was lurched through the air at speed landing seconds later a few blocks away at ground level next to a sheepish looking Lois.

"Lois? Wha-" before you could finish you was spun around your wrist was held in a tight grip coming face to face with the man of steel and for the first time you was happy to see him, before you could think you hugged him shaking from fear and adrenaline he sighed tucking an arm around you patting your back as the shock of what happened washed over you in nauseating waves. A few tears escaped, you were shot at, you could have died.

"Fuck ,thank you, thank you so much , if you hadn’t- I'd be....I thought I was a goner" he sighed ruffling your hair holding you as you shook, no matter how angry he was he couldn't help take a few moments to help settle you down rubbing your back slowly as you sobbed quietly you were so frightened.

"Shh it's okay...I've got you...your okay" you cried into him missing the looks shared over your head between him and Lois. She looked guilty, and he was fucking pissed. Eventually you calmed down enough for him to get through to you and he pulled you back at arms length, you tried wriggling away wiping your eyes and sniffing back your last whimpers, he growled when you tried twisting away. Oh hell no.

He wasn't letting you get away from him not after that major fuck up moving his hand he gripped you by the scruff of your shirt. You flinched and snapped your gaze up. Oh shit. His face was set in a deep frown, jaw twitching. He was angry, furious. Double shit.

"What have I told you?! About doing stupid things like that?!" He shook you a bit by your shirt making you wince closing your eyes pretending he wasn't there.

"Don’t you pretend to ignore me!" He wasn’t playing ball and instead captured your chin in his other hand.

"Y/n what did I say?...Look at me when I'm talking to you....Right now or so help me god!....That’s better....Was last time not enough To deter you?" Your eyes bulged as you used your hands to cover your back end. Lois raised an eyebrow at your reaction going to ask but was silenced with a look from Clark, he wasn't happy with either of them. He trusted her! Trusted you to both do the right thing, the safe thing and leave this story alone, at that point he wasn't sure who he was more angry at. Lois for encouraging you, or you for actually going through with it!.

"No! I mean yes! I don't know!! it was work their doing something bad!! like really reeaallly bad! I'm sorry please don't!" He growled

"Sorry isn't good enough!!" you squeaked at him trying to twist from him but he juts locked a hand on one of your biceps makeing to spin you around.

"No! don't nononono! please not here pleaseplease, I get it I'll be good, I wont make a fuss just not infront of her please!" you begged and he clenched his jaw looking from you to Lois who was confused by your desperate display

"y/n wha?" she didn't get to finish as her question was answered as you was spun round to face her yelping and thrashing as he moved landed a harsh smack you your lower thigh making you cry out trying to tuck yourself away from him moving your free hand around trying to cover yourself flushing in humiliation as Lois' jaw dropped. You moved your hand across yourself trying to save your ass but he just worked around it with ease ,finally having enough he switched his grip capturing both wrists behind you as you tried spinning back round and dodging at the same time tears already falling from the harsh impacts of his hand all but branding your ass.

"No nonono stop! I'm sorry I'm sorry please

""You want me to drop your jeans? No? Well stop wriggling then!.... You are unbelievable!...Three times! This makes t hree times now I've had to Intervene! I thought your last spanking would have knocked some sense into you Young lady! But then again Clark let you get away with it last time didn't he?" You cried as this time he had put more force behind each swing leaving a much deeper burn then last time tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing as he carried on. He meant it.

"Im sorry ple-please stoooop" he continued letting you feel his displeasure at you landing heavier blows you could tell he wanted to strike you harder in the way his hand trembled with each impact, the rougher treatment and scolding made you soak your panties almost instantly, the humiliation of Lois watching may have had something to do with it as well. You flushed in humiliation happy that you was in black jeans, had you been in anything else he and Lois would have seen your shame. You wriggled yelping between sobs as he bruised your back side adding five more in quick succession then stopped. It had felt like a life time but in reality was only a minute two at most. You hiccuped rubbing your eyes as he stood there still glareing at you before huffing.

"What am I going to do with you? Is this going to be a weekly occurrence now?" You sniffed trying to compose yourself shaking your head. No. He released your wrists but you didn't pull away wiping your nose on your sleeve feeling humiliated, belittled and most dreadfully of all aroused. You flushed a deep red hanging your head in shame, god knows what Lois must think watching you get man handled like that, watching you be reduced to tears in seconds.

"I don't need to tell you how stupid that was do I?" You whined and shook your head again at him, feeling his eyes boring into your head.

"And you can rest assured that the only reason I'm letting you off so lightly is because I'm letting your boyfriend deal with you this time! I'm very disappointed in you, I don't think he will be very happy I doubt he let you come out here, did he know?" you hung your head somehow Hearing him say he's disappointed in you almost felt as bad as his spanking and you didn't know why, you shivered at the thought of Clark finding out.

"Well?" He probed Lois gave him a look, you didn't know yet? but then by that display she hardly thought you spent a lot of time facing him, by the looks of it you spent your time across his knee.

"No, well maybe, he knew we wanted to but we said we wouldn't...." he sighed at you

"Well he will be finding out" you panicked shaking your head

"No! don’t tell him! I know I did wrong but he will be so angry!!" He ignored you fixing you both with a firm gaze.

"You will both drop the story, we are already on it and don't need people panicking over it, your leads dried up am I clear?" You heard Lois agree still stunned by what she had just witnessed he tugged your head up to face him seeing nothing but a blur through your tears.

"Y/n I said am I clear?" You nodded before answering weakly without thinking

"Yes sir" mortified as the words slipped out before you could catch them

"Good now off you go...Back to your office both of you" he said releasing you ,you quickly made your way past him hissing as your tender muscles pulled, they was already bruising. You moved scampering quicker as he left you with one last parting smack on your rear as you scuttled past him to embarrassed to look up as Lois walked by your side quietly you flinched as you heard him take off the echoing sound as he broke the sound barrier, knowing he was going to go tell on you. Lois closed the gap resting her hand on your arm lightly as you sniffled she held out your bag for you, you took it quietly.

"A-are you okay?" You nodded a little

"Yeah just embarrassed I never wanted anyone to see that, you probably think I'm stupid" she smiled a little

"I'll admit I've never seen him do anything like that before, sounds like you have tho" you sucked in a deep breath as your bottom stung and throbbed you could just feel the ache of a bruise now forming.

"Yer tha-thats the second time, first was longer but that was worse.... way worse and now I'm gonna have to face Clark, hes going to spank me to,I don't think I can handle two, but if I don't go then I will be in worse trouble." You trembled a little

"So Clark spanks you to?" She asked realizing you didn't know yet. You nodded then shook your head

"No, yes I mean not yet but only cos of how red my ass was when I got to his apartment... Superman found me climbing he caught me and spanked me then sent me to Clark... That’s when we argued and got together weird huh?" She shook her head.

"Not really, He loves you the thought of loosing you could be the thing that broke the camels back....Still tho I feel sorry for you.....More so your ass I mean neither of them are weak by any means.... And I doubt your behaving" you groaned as she chuckled

"Hey come on let me have that one, I mean you just got spanked back there then I find out that your letting both of them spank you?"you scoffed

"Let? you try wriggling away see how far you get! , Superman's a nosy prick who can fuck right off" you shouted up at the sky hoping the bastard could hear you then heard the familiar sound of him roaming the sky. You froze looking to the sky cautiously and gulped, he was still about.

"...Shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that! Lets go before he comes back I don't want another round" you said trying to make your way out of he area asap quickly regretting shouting at him. Lois smiled, you were going to be so pissed off when you find out, but she kept that to her self.

"... You think he was bluffing, like superman can't really go to the office can he? like there'd be to many questions? That suit is so tight I doubt he has a pocket for a phone....right?" she hissed through her teeth seeing where you were going.

"Well I couldn't say, but I don't think you can keep it from Clark. I mean their close....really close two peas in a pod"

"No shit I realized that when they both had the same views on domestic discipline, it was that cape wearing asshat who gave Clark the idea" she blinked you really had no idea.

"If you want my advice tell him the truth because when he finds out and he will, he will be angry that you broke in and hurt that you lied to him" you sighed

"Your right I suppose, best to get it over with....Could you keep this a secret? Please in all honesty I'd rather you forget the whole thing.." she smiled nodding

"It goes without saying, but I promise I wont tell a soul.... If the league are on this tho we should leave it." You blinked at her

"What? Do my ears deceive me or is Lois Lane, THE Lois lane dropping a story?" You gaped at her she nodded.

"From the way he said it...He was serious... Whatever is in there is dangerous and we should leave this one... You nearly got shot over it, in Metropolis! If they are willing to risk that type of law suit then its big business in there....And no offense but I'm not really itching for a trip over someone's knee anytime soon." you scoffed but nodded she was probably right.

You kept up small talk on the way back Lois was trying to get your mind off of the inevitable and it worked. It wasn't until you reached the daily planet that your stomach tied in knots. Once you was in the office you felt Clark’s eyes on you before he came over engulfing you in a hug tucking your face in the crook of his neck as you began shaking again. He kissed the side of your head.

"You went there didn't you?" You nodded sniffling he heaved a deep sigh

"You stupid stupid girl, are you hurt? What happened? I know something happened from the minute you walked in" you fumbled with your words a little going to brush him off but a look from Lois quickly made you change your mind.

"I broke in..... And got spotted and I was shot at....A tiny bit....Like teeny weeny bit shot at" He quickly pulled you away his face set firm as he stared at you.

"S-superman saved me and then he well..... You know..." you flushed but he simple blinked at you

"He what?" You groaned and nodded behind you he fixed you with a look and grasped your ass squeezing you hissed stepping on tip toes trying to wriggle away from his hand.

"Oh so he gave you another spanking?" He said still applying pressure to your tender warm cheeks, you nodded hissing at him still trying to escape.

"Yes! and he did it in front of Lois even when I begged him not to! Claarrk! Stoop it hurts!" You whined at him he only sighed shaking his head at you giving you a severe look making you feel even more sorry for yourself.

"Good its definitely what you deserve and you can expect another when we leave today, I specifically told you not to go there. What was you thinking?"

"Kent is everything alright?" You both turned looking at Perry you nodded but Clark shook his head

"Y/n isn't really feeling well" Perry nodded regarding you

"She does look a flushed... Probably best you take a half day y/n" you nodded at him thanking him, thinking this the perfect time to escape your unimpressed boyfriend.

"I will to if that’s alright? I've already handed in my article today and I can look after her god knows someone needs to, she's to stubborn to do it herself" Clark asked Perry, he nodded knowing even feeling unwell you’d probably go home and work anyway.

Twenty minutes of awkward silence later you both arrived at his apartment. He was angry. But it was an eerie calm anger. He dropped his keys and bag taking your bag from you then kicked his shoes off you did the same unable to take the silence anymore

"Clark I'm sorry, I really am I didn't intend to be spotted" he sighed

"No one ever intends to get caught.But that’s no excuse... I told you not to go! Fuck I didn't say that for fun I said it because I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt, I was worried when I didn't see you in the office and I just hoped you listened, trying to kid myself that you had found another safe story to do. I was terrified all I could do was wait for you to return or to receive a phone call from A hospital or-or police department and I was worried for good reason you was shot at! Shot y/n!" You quivered as he scolded you, as frightening as the huge man was angry you couldn't help the way your core twitched watching him, the tingling of your clit returning as he ran a hand through his hair messing it up.

He stopped and pointed a finger at you.

"It was a dumb thing to do and no matter how bruised your ass is this time I'm adding to it !" You shrunk as he walked past you deeper into the living room. Sitting on the sofa.

"You cant be serious...Claarrk! He has already done it! And in front on Lois No...I’m not having it!" He tilted his head casting a glance over his glasses as you stomped at him, he sighed.

"And I'm not having you running around god knows where getting yourself in trouble being fucking shot at! Come here....Now" he said quietly you gulped as his voice got deeper shaking your head stepping back a few steps. He leaned forward pulling him self off the seat and in four quick strides he was in front of you dragging you forward before him.

You fought him feet dragging on the floor ,cursing his large form as he over powered you ushering you around the sofa to the side then paused. He settled for leaning towards you pinning you between him and the arm of the sofa moving his hands forward he popped the button on your jeans batting at your hands leaving sharp slaps to them as you resisted and tried to fight him trying to hold them up. He quickly halted your efforts making you whine at him tugging them down making you squeak flushing as he peeled them down you held his shoulders as he wrestled your legs out of them. You stood back still trying to wriggle free

"No..Please don’t Clark!" You protested all of your bravado failing yet again as you were placed bare ass over the sofa waiting for what was promising to be a very uncomfortable spanking. Clark smirked noting that your protests sounded more like a panicked little girl who didn’t think her daddy was serious as you soon found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa one of his hands at the curve of your spine holding you down.

"How can you still be so bratty with an ass this red? Hmm? This time he wasn't thorough enough, I will fix that!" You cringed as he moved his hand across your two glowing cheeks pressing his hands in letting you feel how hot and swollen you was, you moved yours back to him trying to shield your already hot cheeks. You whined pitifully as he moved them in front of you

"Keep these up here!" You nodded finally giving into him as he moved to stand at an angle quickly connecting his hand making you claw at his sofa cushions trying to inch yourself forward, but it was no use he had you tucked securely against the arm not leaving you anywhere to go. you yelped as he raise his hand again making sure to hit the pinkest part of your cheeks, you kicked out whining at him. He chuckled it was cute your feeble struggles as he popped you on your sore red bottom again and again sending you into a full blown paddy.

"CLARK!PLEASE STOP!" he tilted around to meet your gaze seeing your bright red face. He stuck out his bottom lip at you mirroring your pout.

"Aww poor y/n is it already sore?" You nodded sniffling feeling completely humiliated already.

"Well then maybe you should start doing as your told." He finished his statement with a firm slap that rippled across your ass, you wailed fidgeting clawing at the sofa cushion beneath you as he continued to spank your ass and thighs. Your toes curled into the carpet below you as his hot palm landed again and again each time in a slightly different place slowly working in rounds across your bottom. It wasn't long before the pain truly set in, a deep burn building on your already smarting cheeks that made you truly feel small and naughty, ashamed of yourself for being naughty and ending up in this position.

You cried true tears as he move lower to a more sensitive spot cupping his hand on impact making the sting almost sweet as the jolt went straight to your aching clit making you throb with need. Fat tears rolled down your face as he moved you higher stretching out your cheeks giving him easy access to the crease of your thighs that Superman couldn't reach earlier.

"NOO! Clark pl-please sto-op I'm sorry OWW NO! I wont do it again! Please!" He huffed at you as you choked out the words around sobs that wracked your body jolting when you heard the quicker stinging slaps echo through the room, moving your hands back trying to cover yourself tho you wasn't sure if it was to shield your ass or hide your drenched pussy.

He had already spotted it, he growled capturing both wrists pinning them to your back as he smelt you, some of your juices was already clinging to his fingertips where he had spanked a little lower then necessary, it gave him an idea he knew that he couldn't continue on your ass for much longer.

"I hope so! Do you know just how worried I was! You little BRAT! Your so lucky that I wasn't there had I been I wouldn't have left your jeans up in front of Lois you can be damn sure of that!" You whined not really sure how he new you hadn't been spanked bare by the man of steels but you couldn't dwell on it as he moved again pressing a hand to the top of your cheeks digging his blunt fingers into the darkened flesh making you whine pitifully at him to stop through your tears.

”You.will.never.disobey.me.like.that.again!...do you understand me?" you nodded weakly as he emphasized each word with harder and harder spanks on the crease of your bottom making it just as bright as the rest of your ass. Finally you felt him pull away and you sighed still sobbing your heart out, half in pain the other humiliation at how your body had reacted to him.

You twisted trying to cross your legs as you felt your arousal drip down your thighs in long embarrassing streams and yelped when he kicked out your ankles wider and moved to peel back your lips taking a long look at your wanting core, chuckling when he saw how you clenched longingly, wanting to be stuffed full. He sighed as you tried to fight him.

"Oh no you don’t let daddy see..." you whined pressing your face into the cushion hissing and bucking into his hand as he ran a fingertip up and down your slit.

"Oh god! Dont LOOK! STOOPP!" You were silenced with a all be it lighter spank straight on your revealed clit making you screech that broke of into a moan then another and another you clenched on each strike, his spanks on your pussy pushing you closer and closer to a trembling orgasm he stopped just shy of your release making you heave deep breaths.

He tutted at you leaving his hand wedged between the two pink lips rubbing across you harshly in an up and down motion.

"Oh sweet baby~ don’t tell me your were going to cum on my palm as I spanked your naughty little pussy?" You groaned as he moved his hand dipping two wide fingers into you leaving your mouth agape as he scissored them, he concentrated on your high pitched sounds and the way your pussy began clenching and suckling.

"Oh you were weren't you? So so ready for me hmm? Just a needy little girl~" You shivered and moaned trying to grind on his fingers as the brushed your walls massaging them just right you gasped when he began fucking you faster and harder onto his fingers them held them still buried deep to the knuckles curling them.

You jolted as he hit that spot, the smooth patch of nerves that will finally finish you off the edge.

"Is this all you wanted baby? Such a naughty baby~ You were acting out so daddy would bring you home and punish you? Maybe that what I should do, punish my needy little girls cunt, fuck her until shes a very sore very sorry little girl" As he spoke he was watching listening to your heart rate the way you struggled to breath you were close, his dirty talk seemed to do the trick , he could feel your body clenching as he called you his naughty baby. He quickly and cruelly pulled away at the last second laughing when your little pussy tried holding on to him as he withdrew his fingers he watched the pleasure fade and become annoyance you really had been just about to cum.

"Poor baby~" his voice was condescending, belittling and it made your knees shake. He was sexy just being his normal shy farmboy self but here and now he seemed like a totally different animal! The confidence and raw power he had over you was...It was breathtaking and arousing...definitely not what you expected from the man. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed, he somehow knew you wanted a daddy, to spank and fuck you into behaving, the thoughts of the huge man taming you left you a mess beneath him.

Your protest was immediate you moved side to side letting your thighs rub at your swollen lips trying desperately to trap your clit between them. Your voice hoarse from begging and pleading with him

"I NOO! CL-CLARK PLEASE I WANT!-" he shut you up with another spank to your pussy making you gasp and widen your legs craving any sort of contact.

"Huh? I’m sorry You what? You might have to speak louder so I can hear you?" You turned resting the side of your face on the sofa looked at him tears still streaming slowly down your face.

"I-I want to cum! Please Clark please I want you to fuck me! Spank me again, just I-I want you to do something PLEASE DADDY! " he tilted his head and sighed looking at you from the top of his eyes enjoying the little game. Reveling in the fact you'd acknowledged him as your daddy; your dom your one and only, he felt it in his bones the way you'd given in, falling to his need to dominate you completely.

"Well now is that so?...All I hear is a disobedient little madame demanding things...Well I'm afraid that 'I want' never gets around here.." You whined

"I SAID PLEEAASSEE!"

"And I said no! Not until you beg nicely, until ask me with a pretty please~" closing your eyes, him seeing your arousal from his chastisement is one thing but he wanted you to beg? You flushed and wriggled back. He moved deciding that you needed some encouragement chuckling rubbing a single finger down your slit pinpointing your clit and rubbed harshly for a few breaths then pulled back hovering it just out of your reach. You snapped twisting again to him

."Please daddy~ I'm sorry I was bad, Please let me make it up to you? Let me play with you, make you happy and show you just how sorry I am for being a brat again~" for a moment he wavered wanting to stop this game and fuck you full right there.

He still might. With a grin he leant down over you making sure to let you feel his hard cock he smiled as his teasing worked as you whimpered pitifully pressing back to him.

"Ahh...You want daddy to play with you?....is that it? you want me to finger fuck your needy little pussy until, your just gushing all over me? well baby?" You moaned weakly at his filthy words going bright red and nodded.

"Y-YES PLEASE! FUCK TOUCH ME PLEASE CLARK I CAN'T...I'M SORRY!" Your cry was loud and uneven as you fought to wrestle your arms free trying to move back against him, to find something to grind on. He moved quickly unable to deny himself anymore the sight of you bent over and red assed and begging for him; for your daddy to fuck you any which way made him snap, it was all the permission he needed.

More tears fell this time in relief as you felt his hand drop to his waist then heard his belt move as he undone it with one hand quickly shucking down his trousers, he wasted no time lining up and with one sharp bone shaking thrust he embedded what felt like 10 inches straight into your quivering heat.

You screamed out but he quickly curbed it as he caught the scruff of your neck and pressed you into the sofa, the movement took your feet completely off the floor leaving them to kick about behind you. Perfect. Now your really did have to endure whatever he threw at you. Had you been able to see him you would have seen an abnormally dark look cross his normally sweet face. You groaned high cringing as he plowed his way into you holding himself deeper then anyone you'd had before.

You gasped finding it hard to breath with him leaning over you pressing your body down into the sofa you tired calling out to him as you began panicking when he pressed your face further into the sofa making you go a little dizzy, thoughts becoming hazy as your airflow was being cut off slowly as he rocked slowly fucking any tiny breaths you took right out of you. Just as you began to panic more he moved his hand moving to twist in your hair pulling your face up. You took deep gasping breaths crying out as he pulled back and rocked his hips into yours, making sure to slap his thighs harshly into your bruised bottom making you groan in slight pain, not that he could really tell with all the moaning you were doing. He wanted to make this a little painful, after all you'd been a bad girl.

He grunted loudly into your ear his breaths huffing past your ear making sure you heard just how good you felt for him. You tried turning to kiss him but he gave a quick shake of your hair.

"OOhh FUCK-YES THAT’S IT ugh ugh no~ your not kis-SHIT NOT YET BABY! fuck not yet no!. No your not kissing daddy only OH MY GOD!Fuuuck! Only good girls get kisses and your a bad baby! Bad babies don’t get kisses!" You whined slumping forward as much as you could pouting, you hissed whining and moaning as he pulled you up by your hair.

"What are you?" You whined shaking your head but he growled shaking you by your hair slightly, you cried out at the sting in your scalp.

"I'M AHH FUCKplease! CLARK! DADDY NONONONO! PLEASE I'M SORRY! I'M A BAD BABY! I'M A VERY BAD BABY!"

"ugh fuck yes! Yes you are and you're going to stay right here and let me fill that little pussy! If your lucky I might let your naughty little cunt cum over my cock... But don’t even think about cumming until I say so." How he managed to talk so evenly whilst fucking you so thoroughly.

You cried out a loud animalistic sound as he moved back before thrusting into you deeper then you thought possible, hitting your cervix with a force you'd never experienced almost winding you. You whined as he battered away at your core your muscles protested weakly to his cocks heavy thrusts stretching around him so tightly, you felt his pulse throbbing away inside of you each time he impaled you on him his veins rubbing at your walls in a pleasantly addictive pace.

You moaned every nerve in your body was alight arms tensing. He moved you releasing your hair and tucking his hands around your thighs pulling them further apart the action let him bury himself deeper inside of you, taking your breath away as he fucked you roughly , you twitched hissing as his balls slapped against your sore spanked clit making you see stars softly grunting as the abuse on your clit pushed you higher a surge of heat rolling around in your tummy just waiting to let loose. Somehow he knew and began grunting at you.

"Don’t you fucking dare! You hold it or I'm going to fuck your ass to!" You yelled out as he forced himself into your body with renewed vigor leaning down you bit the cushion below you trying to fight off the climax that was seconds away. The stinging heat of your ass was being punished all over again only this time it was his thighs doing the spanking. He tilted you up further your breasts now laying on the sofa cushion as he rutted into you his thrusts sloppy and he moaned louder and louder he was close you could feel him swelling, ready to fill you with his cum, to claim you as his own little fuck toy and ruin you.

"BEG! BEG FOR ME TO FILL YOUR CUNT!" You gasped as he spanked you making your muscled coiled tightly around his cock.

"PLEEAASSEE DADDY PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME! FUCK ME FULL LIKE YOUR LITTLE WHORE! LIKE I’M JUST YOUR TOY PLEASE! DADDY I WANT IT PRETTY PLEASE!" you shouted the words barely having the breath to beg him.

"Fuck yes good girl! Such a good toy for daddy! Now cum that right you can cum on daddy's cock!" You cried in relief letting go trembling as you came over him, arching wildly it was a full body orgasm like you’d never experienced before. You couldn’t even voice your pleasure far to lost in the shivering euphoria.

Your quivering heat sucked him so tightly as you came not even he could continue to hold out roaring as you forced him to cum inside of you, you’d actually milked him! Sucked the cum right out of his balls Forced him to release his cum and drench your insides.

You both eventually came down from your highs you were still bent over the sofa tears trailing from your eyes tho your really unsure why panting heat going ten to the dozen. He patted your back and pulled himself free gasping and sweaty. He moved around you on unsteady feet and sat near your head he moved pulling you across his lap tucking you into his chest.

You moaned as he moved your tender body across the cushions to him you noticed at some point of his wild punishment fuck he had removed his shirt. You looked up at him smiling giggling slightly smoothing some of your loose hair out of your face. He sighed pressing a firm kiss to your neck then grunted pulling back and removing his slightly fogged glasses placing then on the table. He leaned back staring at you intently you blinked then moaned trying to find a more comfy place the sit wincing as your tender lower half moved against his thick thighs. You pouted as he chuckled running a hand through his hair moving the curls to the side, you froze looking at him.

"W-what? Clark? You look just like...." he froze realizing just what you meant and nodded sighing he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist so you wouldn't run.

"Yes....I-I am I mean" you tilted your head as he unconsciously tried to hide his face

"Your?....YOUR Superman? Its you whos-whos been? You've been saving me? Spanking me?" He nodded weakly unsure if you was angry or not. You looked at him in disbelief moving to cup his face gently when he wouldn't look at you you curled up tucking yourself into his chest hugging him far to exhausted to argue and cuss him out for being a dick. He moved slowly wrapping his other arm around you hugging you rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry....I really am, I don’t know why I do those dangerous things...I just always have...Never had to think about other people before" you felt him nod and kiss your head.

"Well now you do, I was terrified. Am terrified when I see you do those stupid stupid things I'm terrified that one day...One day I wont be fast enough, strong enough to save you....I am not invincible there are things out there that can weaken me and one day I might not be able to save you one day I might not be there to find you" you cringed at just how he said the words he was telling the truth.

"I-I will be better from now on...I will try to stop my adrenaline seeking habits...But it will take time, Ive always been like this." He smiled kissing you deeply.

"I know you will little girl~ but your always going to have me hovering over your shoulder...Maybe I could take you flying? To get your fix?" He chuckled as you remembered your last little flight with him. You shook your head.

"N-no thank you Clark I didn’t like that..." he smirked at you nipping at your ear

"like you’d have a choice baby girl~ I think that’s what I’m going to do from now on when I catch you being naughty, scoop you up and fly you off somewhere for a good old spanking!" You groaned

"Noooo Clark don’t! No more spanking...And someone will seee!" he laughed at your pout and poked your nose watching as you scrunched it at him huffing

."Oh yes little lady spanking is something we are definitely keeping up with you sorely need it, and don’t worry there are many quiet places I can take you to tan that naughty little bottom!...And now you know you’d best behave at work to~ no more three hour lunch breaks to go see a movie...Yes I know all about that" You flushed and buried your face in his neck whingeing at him yawning, the days events catching up to you. He sighed tightening his hold on you breathing in your scent.

"I love you baby never forget that" you mumbled it back to him tiredly making him smile as you snuggled into him, he had no doubt that tomorrow you’d be mad at him and sulk over going to work with a bruised bottom and the fact that he has been the one spanking you around town. But that was tomorrow and he could deal with it then for now he was content, the truth was now out and it was a huge weight lifted from him and he could rest peacefully knowing you were safe and sound with him.

#superman imagine #superman x you #superman x reader #superman smut #clark kent imagine #clark kent x you #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc x you #dc x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman x y/n

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stardust-sanctuary · 4 years

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Random things I think the demon bros would be good at

So, I’ve been working on my own MC Penelope (hopefully I can post her on my art blog soon!), and then I saw someone mention they wanna see the bros written to be more than their cardinal sins. So I got to thinking; MC has helped improve their lives, what if they wanted to return the favor? So; here’s a random list of a stuff no one asked for.

Lucifer

We all know this man is diligent as fuck. He’s always on top of his paperwork, always looking out for Diavolo, wrangling his six wild brothers, and does it all with enough time to spare to appreciate the arts.

Time management is clearly a skill of his, but he’s also great at prioritizing tasks. What task will take the longest? When is the best time to do this task? What should I start with? The dude’s been a workaholic since before his fall; he knows his shit. He’ll definately help you if you’re struggling (just be prepared for a mountain of teasing!)

Despite being teased for being an “old man”, with age comes wisdom. He’s definately going to be the type to try and give you some dad advice in the hopes you don’t repeat his mistakes.

Mammon

The UR card “The Mammon Way” has proved to me that Mammon may have the chops to be a mathematical genius.....so long as he can apply it to money that is!

To compound that; I feel like Mammon is really good at reading patterns in behavior. How else could he manage to steal from people like Lucifer and Leviathan? This isn’t limited to just people; I feel like he could predict things like fashion or music trends.

He’ll definately pick up if your behavior changes, and tries to help in that tsundere way we all love. He tries his best, and even though he won’t always know how to help, he’ll damn well try.

“MC, you’re not eating regularly! You’re gonna slow me down if you don’t eat!”

Leviathan

So, we all know that Leviathan is really good at sewing and costuming. And maybe I’m projecting; but I feel like he’d have great talent as a writer.

Think about it; he consumes so much media and reviews it. AND he’s apparently got loads of followers? The dude has to have a way with words. Not to mention a major understanding of storytelling, character design and arcs, and world-building

DND WITH LEVIATHAN WOULD BE AMAZING

I also think he’d be a great editor (if you can steer him away from his Ruri-Chan). Definately the person to go to when you need your rough draft polished!

Satan

This good boy is Snow White when it comes to animals (sans Cerberus) and I cannot he convinced otherwise.

I swear, he’s got a secret army of crows and cats just ready to wreck someone’s day.

I also think he’s very observant. He reads so much and is able to filter in the most valuable knowledge, and can even trip up Lucifer.

Demonic Sherlock Holmes anyone?

Like Mammon, he’ll be one of the first to pick up if your start deviating your normal behavior pattern. Though this boy will quietly research things and end up worrying himself silly. Cue weird packages of homemade medicine at your door.

Just tell him to come talk to you directly, and it’ll help you both out a lot.

I also imagine him as a talented photographer. I feel like his specialties would be in nature photography and candid photos of people. (Yes I’m biased)

Asmodeus

Okay, so I have a weakness for “slut” characters. Jessica Rabbit, Haru from Beastars, characters like that. I just remember thinking to myself as a young bab “I wish I could be that confident.”

Asmodeus, despite all his vanity, would probably be very well-educated about health. He knows all the ways to make healthy food delicious, the best lotions and creams for skin problems, and maybe even correctly guess what you’re sick with.

“I told you that you were getting a cold, MC!”

“Shut up, Asmo.”

“Love you too 💕.”

I also have a feeling that he’d be the one to help you when you need a “self care” day. After all, a healthy mind helps a healthy body!

Beelzebub

Beel, Beel, Beel, how we all love this sweetheart. It’s canon that not only is he an excellent judge of food, but also one hell of an athlete! He’d probably be an amazing workout buddy.

Beel is just really pure in my eyes (minus the food tantrums but hey, we all got our flaws), so there’s not that much I can add on.

He’s that friend you can rely on, the friend you can trust with your fears and secrets, the friend whose shoulder you can cry on.

Help him through the survivors guilt he holds from Lillith’s death, the guilt he feels from being unable to stop Lucifer and Belphie from fighting, and just treat him like the good friend he is, and you’ll have a friend for life.

#protectBeel

Belphegor

I remember seeing on Tumblr someone pointing out that Belphie seduced MC just like how Satan taught us during the RAD Exams tutoring. So yeah, this boy knows how the human mind works and it honestly scares me a little.

Maybe Belphie is Sherlock Holmes and Satan is John Watson? (Would that make Lucifer Lestrade and Mammon Moriarty???)

Anyways, what strikes me about Belphie is just how he breezes through schoolwork even though he sleeps all the time? The boy is smart; maybe a bit too smart for his own good.

I honestly think he’s pretty empathetic; to the point it influences his own emotions (he went to fairly far lengths to prevent the exchange program because of how much Lilith’s death affected him. Survivors guilt is one hell of a thing). I also see this when he makes the effort to not only make up for what he did to MC but his brothers as well.

For the love of God, Lucifer, talk to your brother, damn.

Agree? Disagree? Didn’t see your idea? Go ahead and add your own thoughts!

#obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me!

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ofaprilflowers · 3 years

Photo

- part 2: home? -

warnings: descriptions of injuries, not too detailed.

tags: shout out to my first-ever requested tags, @sista7-7 @softieus and @marrambles yay! Thank you for reading and sorry for the late update TT. Hope you guys enjoy :)

disclaimers: I am not a medical professional, this is all part of my imagination and totally made-up therefore is in no way accurate. If you find any part I could improve on, do tell. I would appreciate the feedback. Other than that, enjoy! <3

previous/next

It took another week for me to finally be discharged. A week of rehabilitation and physiotherapy (which Dr. Hwang said would be continued after my discharge TT). I had lost strength in my extremities and also my sense of balance. This, I found out after almost falling down right on my face when I attempted to climb out of bed for the first time. Almost, well because thankfully, he was there.

My parents had arrived the night I woke up. My mother immediately cupping my face, tears brimming in her eyes while my father just took my hand in his and smiled every time I looked his way.

It felt surreal, honestly. My family and I were close. But we were not exactly the type to be crying and holding each other, or professing our love for each other. We were the laugh-at-each-other’s-life-problems-cuz-I-had-it-worse-than-you type of family. Then again, for me it felt like I was waking up from a long nap, while for them, they didn’t know whether I would make it or not so, fair enough.

Turns out, the accident was pretty bad. My head had to be stitched up and so now there was a nasty gash above my left eye (it was definitely gonna scar but let’s not think about that right now). My arms where full of cuts and scrapes from the broken windshield. My legs and chest, badly bruised. Dr. Hwang said they had healed fairly well in the past two weeks, but I still cringed at how ugly they looked every time I caught a glimpse. He also mentioned that I was lucky not to have sustained any other serious injuries other than my head trauma. I was grateful of course, but losing my memory was deleterious enough.

I woke up every morning feeling confused as to why the heck I was at a hospital and it took a few groggy minutes to remember. Sometimes it took seeing Jaehyun- either curled up asleep on the armchair or standing next to the window with a cup of coffee in hand- for me to come crashing back into reality.

I learnt through my mother- who had attempted to fit the past 2 weeks of my unconsciousness along with the last 6 years into a 2 day crash-course- that Jaehyun was the only one who stayed at the hospital every day and night. My mother had stayed the first week, as my condition stabilised however, she opted to visiting daily. That also depended on whether my father was available to drive her 45 minutes to the hospital from home. You see, my parents were rational people, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt. I mean I was laying unconscious on a hospital bed yet there were still other important stuff to be handled. Well, as they say, life goes on, right? Kind of made me think if I had just hallucinated the tears brimming in her eyes the other day.

While my mother would babble on about looking on the bright side and starting my life again, Jaehyun’s presence was like having a burden be lifted. I know I’ve lived most of our “acquaintence-ship” hating him, but I made a mental note to properly thank him for this in particular. On every occasion that my head felt like it was about to burst from the overwhelming information my mother was flooding me with, he’d interject, naturally bringing her focus to something other than trying to piece me back together. Often times he’d ask her to join him for a cup of coffee, or show her things he was currently working on. I’d close my eyes then and pretend to fall asleep.

“So, you’re saying, I should continue my life ‘as normal as possible’. Meaning?” We (the doctor and I) were currently in his office. By tomorrow morning I was finally leaving. Goodbye to the sanitary, boring hospital, hello to......well, life?

The doctor had explained all the procedures and follow-up appointments that were to come. Both to Jaehyun and I. Then, we talked about going home and that’s when I realised, home had changed. I don’t know how we had avoided addressing it, or maybe I was the only one in denial of it. I mean throughout the week after regaining consciousness, although Jaehyun was there, we barely talked. Mostly because I became a selective mute, and he, well I guess he was respecting my space?

Dr. Hwang had noticed the awkward silence that had passed after he mentioned about going home and quickly changed the subject, calling in a nurse to guide Jaehyun in signing my discharge papers or something. After he left, the doctor didn’t hesitate in putting on what I call his “uncle-face”.

“As normal as possible, meaning that it’s better if you return to your daily routines prior to the accident,” he explained for the nth time.

I fidgeted in my seat. “But, wouldn’t that cause me more distress? It’s a life a barely know.” “Astrid,” he began, straightening his back. “I understand how hard it my be for you to wrap you head around all this. 6 years is a lot. But it is your life. Your experiences and memories throughout that period were real, and you deserve to remember them. You need to give your life a chance.”

Well, damn. He had a point. He should’ve been a therapist instead.

“And, what if my memories don’t come back?” I prodded.

“Well then, at least maybe you’ll learn more about yourself.” Okay, then. Here we go, Astrid.

We live in a loft?!?!

Pretty sure my eyes were bulging out of my head but wow.

Eyes wandering around the space, I tried to take in everything at once. This was certainly NOT what I had expected. This can’t be real right? I must absolutely be dreaming.

“Welcome...home?” Jaehyun said.

My head snapped in his direction, mouth agape. He smiled sheepishly, his infamous dimples popping out, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, his shoulders lifted briefly. He looked like a child, shyly presenting to the world his greatest creation. I almost smiled. Almost.

“You like it?” he asked.

I scoffed. “For real?”

My eyes turned back to the space he had referred to as home. Well, it didn’t feel like home (yet. Remember Astrid we’re giving this a chance), but yes, I absolutely love it!

I took in my surroundings again and this time, couldn’t help the smile that crept up my cheeks.

The space was gorgeous. It was big, but not huge. It was small, but not tiny. It was spacious enough to have everything and more. There was an L-shaped sofa that could probably fit 5 or maybe even 7 people if squeezed in together. There were even 2 more smaller ones in front of it. Perfect for a small gathering. Opposite the living room was a kitchen, with a small kitchen island. God, I’ve always dreamed of having an island. There was another floor and at the stairs leading up to it were ceiling-high windows with a bumped-out seat, all set with pillows on one end and potted plants on the other. It looked like the perfect spot to read or stargaze at night. I walked into the living room, the brick walls were covered in framed movie posters and artwork, some smaller frames containing pictures which I guessed were probably a collection of memories.

I stepped closer and caught a glimpse of some familiar faces in unfamiliar settings. One photo caught my eye. It was a photo I remember, taken earlier this ye- I mean well, early 2017, right after graduation. I was sandwiched between Jungwoo and Ten, holding up a peace sign to the camera. Jaehyun on Jungwoo’s other side, hand around the latter’s shoulders. Others in the picture smiling widely, so many poses, so many expressions. Literally, it felt like yesterday.

“You remember that?” Jaehyun probed.

I smiled. “Yeah, just a couple weeks before Taeil’s birthday bash, right?”

Then, something flickered in my mind. Of Jaehyun, smirking at a table with his friends, of them exchanging words and laughter, of me hearing something I probably shouldn’t have. Jaehyun had many circles of friends, being the typical extroverted, super-friendly campus sweetheart. This circle was one I wasn’t quite familiar with, least to say I didn’t really like them. I felt my cheeks heat up as my blood boiled at the thought of that memory.

“You wanna see upstairs?” Jaehyun’s voice pulled me back into reality. I turned to look at him. He was standing right next to me, looking almost exactly the same as the Jaehyun I knew. The Jaehyun that I couldn’t stand being in the same room with. The Jaehyun that always had a competitive, mischievous glint in his eye. The Jaehyun that would take every chance he got to argue with everything I said. The Jaehyun that made me feel like I had to defend everything I had.

There was a slight difference, though. The competitive, mischievous glint was somehow...softer. It made me confused, because I was angry, but looking at him now, I don’t know who to be angrier at. Me, or him?

“Ummm, I think, I just- I just wanna lie down,” I tore my eyes away from him and took a step back, putting just a little more distance between him and I.

I saw his fists clench and unclench a bit at his sides. A moment passed until he said, “Yeah. Sure,” walking back towards the doors he picked up my hospital bag and gestured towards a room behind him.

“This is actually, um, our bedroom, but don’t worry, I’ve moved most of my stuff upstairs so this space is all yours,” dropping the bags on the bed, he stepped aside to allow me in. It was a beautiful room, with slanted windows, decorated with some more plants.

“So, feel free to look around, get used to the place and all. Oh yeah, um, this is the bathroom,” he opened a door on the left of the room, then gestured toward a closet in front of the bed, “Your pyjamas are in the top drawer and, uh, well, um, everything else is-”

“I’ll take a look,” I smiled at him briefly.

His eyes landed on mine for a moment, then quickly looked away.

“Yeah, okay, so um, I’ll be outside, if you need anything just, um,” his hands, one scratching at the back of his neck, the other gesturing undecidedly, “yeah.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied. He stood there for a second, then turned to leave the room.

“Jeahyun?”

“Hmm?” he snapped his head towards me, eyebrows lifted in question.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

I saw a bit of tension leave his body. “You don’t need to thank me, Astrid,” he replied softly. “This is- this is your home too.” With a tight-lipped smile, he closed the door behind him.

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Don Rosa: “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros!” or City Slickers 3: The Crystal City

Saludos Amigos, the Ride of the Three Caballeros returns! After some time off to take care of other seasonal commissions and to finally get the life and times fo scrooge mcduck back on a steady pace, everyone’s three favorite chappies in snappy serapes are back for another go round. This time i’ts back to comics one last time as we take a look at “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros: which was the penultimate story from Duck Maestro Don Rosa, and as a result the final one set in present day, as while the next one would have a wraparound segment, it’s a flashback tiding up the one last bit of Scrooge’s past Rosa hadn’t clicked into place yet, and thus we’ll get to that eventually as part of life and times. And honestly it serves as a fittng and satisfying conclusion to Donald’s story.

The geneisis of this one is rather simple in comparison to “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!”. Don Rosa REALLY enjoyed writing TTCRA, wanted to have another adventure with Donaldo and his boys, and given the previous story was a huge hit likely had no trouble convincing his publisher. And since he set the first story in Panchito’s home country of mexico, it only made sense to have the next story in Jose’s home country of Brazil. Adding to it Rosa specifically wanted to avoid using the amazon rainforest this go round, as to him pretty much every story involving Brazil focused on the massive and wonderful rainforest. And while a great setting, Rosa knew there was much more to the country and wanted to show it off. And to his credit.. he’s 100% right as i’ve seen dozens upon dozens of stories set in the rainforest but not nearly as many set ANYWHERE ELSE IN BRAZIL. If their lucky we get to see Rio, but that’s about it. So kudos to Rosa for wanting to display more of a beautiful country and show it had more to offer than merely it’s biggest attraction. As for what treasure they’d be after, the lost city of crystal stuck out to him, having been described in a goverment document that was so degraded when it was found there wasn’t much left to go on and searched for by a famous explorer who was the basis for indiana jones whose name I forgot but we’ll run into his name again later. So yeah not as much setup here and what tiny bit is left can be covered when we get to our villian. So with all that out of the way, let’s ride on!

We open with Scrooge firing Donald and throwing his ass out on the street, berating him for screwing up and then telling him to be back early tommorow to make up for his firing. Then Gladstone literally walks all over him becausae he’s a jackass, and Daisy then shrieks at donald for you know, being stuck on the floor, having messed up the shirt she ironed for him without.. actually you know asking for context, HITTING HIM, then telling him to pick her up for dinner at the ritz.

It’s like this intro was perfectly designed in a lab to piss me off. All three of the characters who on a good day ar excellent but on a bad are outright monsters, at their worst, treating Donald like crap, i.e. the reason to call them monsters, and generally abusing him for flimsy reasons. And again Daisy HIT DONALD. No that’s not right, she shoryukened his ass! She upercutted him! God damn. And her just casually doing that is played for laughs. In a lesser Rosa story this would only get worst and be “oh haw haw”.. instead... to my delighted suprise.. this is all treated seriously. Yeah really. Instead of being treated for laughs like normal, and not being a dark enough work comedically to make it work like say It’s Always Sunny, Donald is seriously depressed, beaten down phsycially and mentlaly and when the boys, who’ve been present for all of this and tried to help him up off the ground, ask why he takes this.. the answer is pretty damn bleak.

Just.. holy shit that’s dark.. and I applaud Rosa for not only recognizing this isn’t always funny, but for actually tackling it. And I will grant Donald being a butt monkey CAN be funny, especially when it’s caused by his own ego. It’s the basis of his entire career. It’s good stuff. My issue has been more that Rosa sometimes dosen’t get that either some aspects have aged poorly, even by the 90′s, and thus dosen’t adjust them or play them more for drama, sprinkling a bit of that in with the comedy. So to see him do that HERE, to acknowledge in some way his own faults and do something with them.. i’m very proud of him and it warms my heart that he could do something like this that shows he could grow and change, even SECONDS from the end of his career, but with no intention of ending his career at that point or even after finishing his next and last story. It just ended up happening that way and as such this story carries even more weight as for all intensive purposes, this is the final tale of Donald Duck for Don Rosa’s Barksian universe. This is the last big tale before whatever triggers Scrooge’s retirement, the last tale he wrote in the here and now. And while not perfect for some reasons we’ll get to from a character perspective? It’s a pretty good note to go out on.

Anyways Donald somehow makes this SADDER by mentoing, when Huey, Dewey or Louie tries to make him smile that he hasn’t smiled in some time before sadly loping off to make their dinner before buying daisy’s.

Yeah... I just.. I need a moment.... Here’s my asistant iwth an important message

Okay i’ve regained my composuer.. and yes I will be shwoing that off at every opportunity. I have generous friends. Now where were we? Ah yes with their uncle in a depression hole, can relate, they figure he needs a nice gift to get him out of it. The boys think he needs friends.. and of course the boys come to mind, though the fact their on the other end of the contient proves a problem.. but Huey, Dewey or Louie has a solution and takes the boys to the Woodchucks because of course they do> Their primary go to for anything is the guide which to be fair contains the entire sum of the world’s knowledge in a guidebook.

So the boys, with the other two likely filled in on the way, plan becomes clear when they stop by Woodchuck HQ and talk to the guy in charge of the badge department, which ahs a fun acronym because of course it does, this is one of Rosa’s faviorite running gags and mine as well.. I just don’t have it in me stamina wise to type the whole thing out. Point is the boys ask that Donald be used as courier for a special shipment of badge’s to Rio. The authority guy is understandably a bit reluctant to give a non-woodchuck this duty, but the boys remind him that in a previous story, not sure if it’s barks or rosa’s, Donald apparently not only found the last remaning pieces of fort duckberg but saved them from the mill. As a result the Fort, which was the original HQ of the woodchucks until Scrooge threw them out, was apparently rebuilt. So the guy in charge is more than willing to not only give donald the duty, but an open ended plain ticket, i.e a vacation. The Nephews do have to guilt him a bit more to get donald a condsensed pamphlet based on the brazil chapter of the guidebook which at this point seems like overkill. Just.. buy him a guidebook boys. IT’s a bit much to ask that a portion of your heavily guarded and protected text be given to your uncle for a vacation and seems like a tad of a stretch but the gag, including the boys getting badges in guilt and convincing, makes it work.

So after the boys set off to telegram the rest of the Cabs, we cut to donald arriving in rio, passing christ the redeemer on the way

The Rio Woodchucks greet donald and take the package for him, giving him new orders to go by cable car to the observation deck atop Sugar Loaf Mountain. This is a real mountain in Brazil and frustrated Rosa because he couldn’t find any pictures of what the station looked like in the 1950′s, despite as he put in his notes having eager fans from the region, researchers and other contacts try to find it, settling for having vintage cable cars pulling into modern stations he got from photos from said contacts. If I hadn’t said it before i’ll say it now the man is a BEAST when it comes to getting things acurate, only bending it if it helsp the story and still making sure his drawings are as accurate as possible. It’s one of Rosa’s most adimirable traits.

Donald took a Donde, some form of streetcar there, hanging on the back and .. uh I have no words for this..

Donald Duck ran into a horse and it farted in his face. Just... why though. This horse naturally is Senior Marteniz, with Panchito currently being thrown out of a cable car for trying to put his horse in there which is fair. What isn’t is people having an issue with his hat. I mean.. people wear hats. I know it’s a bit big for the tight fit of the cable car but still it’s a bit weird to throw a strop about anywhere outside a theater or sports place where he’d be actively obstructing people’s view. And it appears to be the same weirdly crazy asshole.. Imean again the horse thing is resonable but calling it a “crazy hat” I mean yes it’s a big hat.. but ... you you do know mexico exists right? And sombreros? or other cultures at all you weirdly specific douche?

At the top, after a quick and funny hat swap gag, Panchito reveals the triplets called him here.. as did Jose who assuemd it was lovely senorita.. who uppercuts him. And it’s STILL more reasonable to uppercut some rando hitting on you, if not by much, than Daisy’s Domestic Abuse. Anyways the three put things together and Donald realizes via flashback the boys hoped his smile would return and said he’d have help.

Donald, being utterly beaten down by life, apologizes.. but it turns out the boys needed this as much as he did. Jose’s night club career is flopping hard, with his agent unable to get him bookings and Panchito has barely scraped any money together for his ranch dream from last time. It’s a nice touch: That the boys , while having more exciting careers have just as much strife as Donald does and as much problem. It helps make them feel as real as donald, as characters with their own lives and adventures outside of him and their own wants and needs and it really helps the story come alive. Jose however has some suggestions to escape their blues.

But Panchito suggests instead they go for some adventure and go diamond hunting in the plains of brazil, which the two agree to.. and Donald’s a big gung hoe about carving his way through human flesh.. just jesus man.. get a therapist. Your Ducktales counterpart did and he seems mildly well adjusted. So the adventure is on.. and they all toss their hats.. off a mountain. First thing on the provisoins list hats. Before we head on I just wanted to point out even though most of my audience here is likely unaware the movie exists that this Comic honestly reminds me of the 1991 comedy City Slickers starring Billy Crystal, Daniel Stern and Bruno Kirby. If your struggling on the name Daniel Stern, think Marv from Home Alone.

No.. the RIGHT marv. I may not be a huge fan of Home Alone but we respect Daniel sterns in this house. And yes if you didn’t know French Stewart played Marv in one of the sequels now you do. And i’m sorry you know that.

There we go. Right Marv and Wrong Dad from Christmas story. Back on point City Slickers is a terrific comedy I finally saw a few weeks back about three friends all facing mid life crisises, with Billy Crystal being unsatisfied with his career and undsure WHY he does, Daniel Sterns having cheated on his shrewish wife with one of his employees whose also now pregnant, and Bruno Kirby being a ladies man whose faced with the prosepct of settling down, go for a weeks vacation to a cattle drive, as Brunos character tends to set up these trips but this time they actually need it. They encounter cows, assholes and a cowpoke named Curly. It’s pretty good.

But yeah they both feel kinda similar, if with far less drama and crumbling marraiges on the cabs end because you know, this is for children. I’m pretty sure it’s just a concidence but given Rosa’s love of film, even if it’s more 30′s and 40′s films, and how the City Slickers seems right up his alley, I wouldn’t he suprised if he saw it and simply took some slight inspiration from it. Either way the similarity makes me giggle a bit. Again the plots aren’t all the same but the basic setup is about the same, complete with the main character’s family making sure he goes. It’s a bit of a stretch but I thought it was pointing out and while this review is comissioned, how I go about it isn’t so if I want to take a few paragraphs to compare this to an excellent comedy you should defintely see with two underated actors, maybe three i know nothing of bruno kirby other than the man had horse allergies and thus had to take heavy medication every day so good on him, and a lot of fun.

So our premise and pastiche firmly in place, our heroes fly out to the frontier to adventure and Donald even thought ahead on them needing two more mounts and bought them from the local farmer for 100 bucks: It turns out their a llama, who jose takes and an old ox which donald reluctantly takes and wonders how to steer.. which I just got the double pun. Nice touch.

So our heroes head on with Donald expressing suprise they aren’t in the jungle like the movies, Jose correcting him, you get the bit he’s going for. But as they travel Donald not only breaks out the pamphlet but also , once jose mentions finding el dorado, casually mentions he and Scrooge already found it in columbia, and when Jose incrediously mentions that maybe he also already found the lost mines of the incas.. turns out yeah they did that too. Dont’ know if it was a barks or rosa story for either, since I didn’t check that part of Rosa’s notes, but it brings the scene into greatness as the boys not only belivie donald and figure he’s not pulling their legs.. but marvel at his life. And it’s here Donald smiles a bit.. he’s already got his smile back realizing that as miserable as his life can be.. he’s still seen and done things no man, even his globetrotting pals, has sever done before or sense. Found long lost places, solved mysteries and rewrote history.. sometimes literally sometimes in the “found things that changed historical knowledge” sense. Point is.. he realizes he has more to his life than he thought and maybe it isn’t so miserable after all.

Donald also mentions the local waters are filled with stuff and the other Cabs mounts quickly climb on his continuting the gag of the Cabs assuming donald’s some big expert by accident. For me personally it varies in how funny it is, sometimes it’s grating othertimes it’s genuinelly pretty good, your mileage will vary. We then get a page and a half of slapstick with various animals and this gag repeated and it’s eh. Not bad, and there’s a REALLY great visual bit where donald gets squeezed by an anaconda and not only is he comically and tightly squeezeled, but it takes a few panels for it to wear off. Other than that not bad stuff but nothing especially new or really that funny.

Our heroes soon find a pit trap.. and a capybara in said pit trap.. which I also give myself credit for recognizing on sight. Who dosen’t like a good capybara? Their basically a large brazillian rodent if you were curious. Donald asks what can they do and hte boys take it as a secret test of character, and not just donald being kind of lost and decide to help free trapped animals instead of treasure hunt which Donald, much like his entire life, just reacts to with “what what are we doing now?”. But they manage to free the greatful Capybara and we get this inspired bit.

Naturally the sheer confusion of seeing this as well as being confronted with the relaly bizzare nature of his world, i.e. having both a rodent whose an old friend and one that’s clearly just a regular animal causes Donald to fall into the hole. He’s soon found by the natives.. and here we get one of the worst aspects of this story and one I honestly didn’t expect to encounter given Rosa’s research: Calling these indgeinous people’s.. “indians”. Yes really.

We were in 2004 by this point, and even in the cultural cesspool of the early 2000′s, a time where micheal jacksons actions towards children were used for reams of jokes and where R.Kelly got off for the same just because “he makes the good musics”. What i’m saying is even in this time in history, we knew better than to use the term indian and I remember distinctily the term native american being in my text books even at this point as a kid. So Rosa, a world traveled knowledgable adult.. has no excuse for this, not even “It was the 50′s when this was set and they’d used this” as while he had Scrooge being mildly racist in “The Empire Builder from Callisota”, he didn’t you know, have scrooge use the fucking n word or other slurs during the story because you know that’s racist and he knows it’s racist. I’m coming down so hard on him because I expect BETTER. I can, even if it bothers me and I will give out about it, KINDA ignore the daisy stuff because domestic violence against men wasn’t as wellk nown, so while it dosen’t play well and I won’t pretend to enjoy it I can at least understand why rosa thought this was funny when it isn’t> This? The man clearly should know better, should know to use correct terms, and is usually better about this, but just isn’t here and for one of his last stories it’s REALLY depressing to see a man I have a ton of respect for fail this badly. It’s just a small element of hte story but it really sticks out badly and says bad things about an otherwise good man. Even a good man can really fuck up and Don.. honestly really fucked up even when, normally his portryal of indigneous people’s is really good.. and is for the rest of the story. This is just a really bad if really easy to miss bit I feel he deserves some flak over it. He knew better. This story proves he knows better in other ways and knows indgenous people deserve resepect. He just dosen’t show it in his laungauge and it’s disheartaning.

Anyways, the Natives drop donald off with their cheif.. who turns out to not only speak perfect english, but has a rather nice modern setup and clothes. He’s the son of the former cheif whose dad, using a secret crystal city with a rich mine, paid for his son to go get an education in the US and hopefully bring back knowledge for his people. Instead all he learned was to be a greedy selfish asshat who calls his own people “savages”. This is what i’m talking about: While the indian thing is bad and Rosa should feel bad.. the rest of the story does treat these tribal peoples with genuine grace and care, as our main villian is shown as one partly because rather than respect his culture and simply use thenew knowledge of the outside world to help his people by educating them, bringing back new techniques and medcidnes while mixing it with thier old culture, the bastard prince simply wrote them off as savages and used his new learnings to rule them and get them into trapping, a buisness i’ts later made clear at the end of hte story they don’t like and only followed him because he’s their chief. And it dosen’t even come off as them following him as chief because their stupid, mainly just because of tradition and knowing they can’t escape him and he’d just find htem and find some way to cowtow them. The tribe here are innocent victimes forced into a life they don’t want by an asshole who became a colonizer instead of a hero and leader to his people and simply wants to sell them out as soon as possible to fiance a fancy and comfy life for himself. The bad guy here is recycled from Rosa’s pre scrooge work, and works well here and honestly.. is a good villian and a good antagonist, something Rosa struggled with sometimes when not just using what barks made. He’s a chillingly realistic villian: someone who would step on where he came from instead of helping it and again treats these people as simple victims forced to be minons by circumstance and as the end of the story shows, and we’ll get to that, not nearly as stupid or “savage” as this cruel bastard thinks. And naturally being a cruel bastard, Chief, since his name isn’t given, plans to ransom donald as he naturally has no hangups about selling people AND rare animals. Thankfully Donald’s only a prisoner for a bit as Donald’s ox makes a back door and with the help of their mounts the boys free all the trapped animals and escape.. with Senior Martinez accidently taking the Chief’s necklace. Turns out that’s the sigal that signals his right to rule, so he figures if the tribe finds out it’s missing they’ll rightfully dump his ass and tells them to give chase, which the cabs find out about via a wild parrot. It’s better not to ask.

So our heroes head into the wilderness to loose them and find a rocky slope, making their way up to some more plains. They now have both a high vantage, and a place to set up camp so do so. They also found out Martinez took the necklace, and now know why the chief is after them, but Panchito decides to keep it for now till they can figure out what to do with it. SO over the camp fire Donald decides that if they can find this lost mine that the Cheif’s dad used to go to, they won’t need to look for diamonds the hard way and Jose’s skepticism is rebuffed by the fact that Donald’s found plenty of lost cities with scrooge. So donald brings up the legend of the crystal city, with the guy who found it being colonel percy fawceet, and brings up more adventures you get the bit by now. Point is he mentions a crystal arch lighting up at night to ward off intruders.. and sure enough our heroes happen to be right by it, complete with a crystal road that simply had been covered by shale over the years. Donald decides to get some rest and head out in the morning, with a valid explination as to why not to worry about hteir perusers till then: It’s so dark that even if they left a trail, they can’t follow.. which the evil cheif agrees to though he finds the trail they dug up, pointing as an arrow and now realizing his dad’s treasure was real, plans to naturally exploit the hell out of it. So the next morning, bright and early, our heroes have built a raft, and are greatful they looked in first as the waters are stalked with dangerous predatory creatures. How htey haven’t all killed each other, I do not no, but it looks cool so i’ll shut up now. So our heroes leave their mounts behind and head in up the stream via the raft and find the massvie and awe inspiring lost city.. as for why it hasnt’ been found they soon figure out why: THe stream in is dangerous, and jose figures it was delebratly packed with dangerous animals, and thus few would think to go in there, and the only ohter way up is scaling the cliffs it’s build into, but as the cities built into the sides of said cliffs, no one can see it from a distance. It’s a birlliant way to justify just WHY something remained lost and somthing barks is tremendous at. Our heroes soon find though that the canal go deeper and approaches a water fall.. and thus jump off loosing their only way back and thus heading in deeper to see if they can find another way out. Meanwhile the Cheif has found the swamp and recongizes his dad mentoning it and being a greedy jackass, and suddenly realizing that maybe his people won’t want to loot the city their swarn to protect, tells them to guard the Cabs mounts while he goes on ahead.

Our heroes journey deeper into the unknown and after coming across pick axes mine carts and the like find the mines of fear.. lit with crystals and with wall to wall gems. So they’ve sucessful founds the lost minds of ophir, set up by one of king solomon’s realtiives. The actual King Solomons Mines had been found in a barks story, naturally and is also likely the basis for the african mines level in the ducktales game.

Donald being donald.. ends up sitting on a giant anaconda who swallows him whole as he dosen’t realize just how big the thing is when his pals mention it to him, and only escapes through Dumb Luck, as is the duck family way, lighting a match and causing the Anadonda to spit him out and run... unfortunately not only does Panchtio loudley announce he dosen’t have his pistols, The Chief shows up with a gun. Naturally he intends to plunder, because jackass you see, and intends to leave the cabs stranded, with the anaconda picking them off one by one when they inevitibly have to sleep while he’ll come back with inflatable rafts and boats to loot the rest. The cabs bemoan the fact that their fucked.. and then this happens.

So with that Donald FINALLY snaps, tired of taking the world’s shit and determined not to be the looser everyone around him but his boys clearly think he is. Seriously Donald.. dump. her. ass. It’d also tell you to dump gladstone in a shallow ditch but given your love for hacking through human flesh and his luck I don’t want you to impale yourself. So thus.. Donald stops getting polite and starts getting badass.. shouting THAT’S THE LAST STRAW BEFORE.. .. welll...

Bad. Ass. Also who knew Donald was part Kree? Wait .. how though? Questions for later. So as Donald gives the asshole his RICHELY deserved asshole a beat down, the anaconda pops up and grabs the boat.. with Donald STILL fighting the Chief the whole time. Holy shit. If this is your last time writing a character in a lead role what a note to go out on holy jesus. The cabs however show their CLOSE to as badass with Panchito roping the anconda and Jose attacking it once it curls around.. and unlike last time where his umbrella was quickly disarmed, here the Anaconda eats the tip.. only for Jose to expand it and on Panchito’s command, hook the damn thing. I didn’t relaize till writing this up just HOW badass this story’s climax is.. just holy shit this is awesome incarnate.

Donald ends up loosing the fight eventually as asshole whomps him on the head with the gems.. and sends donald flying, destroying the gate regulating the water thanks to freeing the anaconda. As a result asshole escapes.. for about five seconds till he drops over the falls, presumibly to his MUCH deserved death and even if he surivives, likely wont’ for long without anything to defend himself. Goodbye asshole, you were a good villian but you’ll be better tarantula chow.

Our heroes are still stranded.. but Panchito notices the Anadconda escaping and well... he decides to equal donald in badassery. Again..words do not do this justice.

Our heroes disembark, and find that the tribe has been held at bay by the noble steeds, and as I mentioned earlier, and why despite the frequent use of .. that word i’ve said enough already, this story isn’t too bad. The tribe, once free.. are perfectly intellegent and nice, only in the game because of tradition that asshole abused. Their going to head deeper into the valley on the offchance asshole makes it back so he can’t find them. So the tribe is free and seeing the emblem as the symbol of their opressor and not wanting it, they can likely make a new necklace honestly just without the gems, Panchito gets to keep it. So our heroes won, the adventure is over and our heroes head back to rio

In our final scene we get our wrap up with our heroes back in Rio to enjoy what’s left of their vacation.. which given the scope of events only two days of it have passed so far, so it’s nicely implied they have a day or two before Donald has to go back where he can just.. enjoy himself. Have an actual vacation now his soul is whole again. Our heroes went to the authorities, and it turns out the Chief was one of the most infamous trappers in Brazil, and is now again either dead or in no way shape or form easily able to come back into the country.. and when he does, he’ll now have every officer in the country on his ass.So in short he’s pretty fucked and i’m pretty happy about that. Naturally our heroes dont’ get to keep the mines, because well... it belongs ina museum.. or to become a museum and cultural landmark and the boys know and respect that. But Jose and Panchito both still got something out of the deal: for starters they have their confidence back, as seeing tthey could keep up with donald after realizing what a legend their friend is restored their own weary souls. Meanwhile, Jose’s newfound fame as the man who found a new brazilian cultural touchstone means his agent was able to get him booked up for a year, while Panchito , after consulting with the good senior martenez, decided ot keep the broach, and use it to get their ranch. And Donald? What did he find?

Donald found his smile again. He’s found himself again. After letting life beat him to near death, to just a souless shell. he’s found the real Donald. He’s realized that despite Scrooge’s finaical abuses he lives a rich full life. It’s part of why I compared the story to city slickers. While Donald’s life is far worse off than Billys, like him he finds himself again after the rousing adventure. And who knows what his future holds? Given Scrooge’s grave picture, yes Rosa drew that, he probably does marry daisy and work for the old bat.. but maybe now he can fight back, refuse to let htem walk all over him and actually find a healthy relationship with daisy and with his uncle before his uncle finally retires to Goldie’s loving arms. I could be wrong, it could be same as it ever was just he gets angry again.. but I like to think of something better for our boy. A better life and one more fufilled and more happy and one where he finally finds his pot of gold. He may not of found it yet but well.. there’s always another rainbow and he realizes that now just as his uncle did years ago. Donald is finally whole again to find his hapniess and a better life. Maybe with daisy, maybe with scrooge, maybe without them. Probably without Gladstone because he needs to cut that tumor out of his life, but still, he’s found himself and sometimes that’s all you need to find your purpose. So with that warm thought in my head our heroes play us out one last time. Well not for the restrospective obviously but still.

Final Thoughts; While I do prefer the previous story, on going through this again for the review, I did find this story utterly charming and a great way to send off our boys and Donald for Rosa’s work. While again that one word is very unfortunate and Rosa should’ve known better, otherwise the story is pretty imaculate, using history to build a thrilling story with tons of character and a tremendous arc for Donald. And as I said the villian is excellent and overally the story is pretty great. Maybe held back a bit by the racisim, but the rest of the story is so joyous, badass and well crafted, it’s easy enough to override the less savory aspects. Dosen’t mean they didn’t need to be noted it just means this story is magificent and as usual for Rosa’s work I recommend it.

Next time on the Ride of the Three Cablleros: We go to Disney Juinor for Mickey’s Perfecto Day! ..... whelp at least it’s a short one.

And if you’d like to comission your own review, their just five bucks, jsut direct message me, tell me what you’d like, and I will send you the link on my paypal and get to it asap. Thank you so much for reading and have a happy holiday.

#the three caballeros #donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #don rosa #duck comics #the magnificent seven minus 4 cablleros #the 2000's #comics #reviews #scrooge mcduck #daisy duck #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #gladstone gander

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