#tony's very existence offends him

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window. 

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man... 

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are. 

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you. 

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up. 

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

--

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too. 

You take the cupcakes. 

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction. 

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door. 

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks. 

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set. 

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop. 

You didn’t put that there. 

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one. 

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you. 

 “And the cupcakes," you add. 

There's no reply. 

~ To be continued.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

[amour-de-ma-lee]

Ticklish beach day

Y/N is the sister of Loki and Thor, her powers are about the same as Wanda’s (who doesn’t exist in this story). The avengers have had a lot off missions in the past few months so Tony suggests a day off at the beach. Y/N is only a teen so the avengers all see her as like a younger sister and are very protective off her. Because of how big the group is they are split into 3 cars:

1. Y/N, Steve, Nat, Clint

2. Tony, Bruce, Peter

3. Loki, Thor, Sam, Bucky

During the car ride, Y/N gets the aux after nearly fighting Clint for it. She starts playing Taylor Swift on full blast, Nat sings along happily and after pouting a little over not getting the aux, Clint does too. Steve gives Y/N a confused look, Y/N takes a second to realize he has no idea who Taylor Swift is. “Oh my god, I forgot you don’t know who she is! I keep forgetting you’re actually THAT old.” Y/N giggles as Steve gives her an offended look, “what did you say?”. Y/N giggles more, “you need a hearing device too, grandpa?” She’s very lucky that Steve sitting in the front seat and she’s in the back or else he would’ve gotten her back immediately, “just wait, darling, I’ll get you back.”

Time skip till they are at the beach, they are the last ones to arrive so everyone is already sitting on those lounge chairs they have there. When they come closer Loki realizes she’s wearing his favorite sweater, which he specifically told her not to wear.

“Well hello there, Y/N. What’s that you’re wearing? It seems familiar”, he smirks.

She laughs softly, “do you want it back, brother?”, the teasing tone in her voice apparent.

“Well yes. And I do insist.” “Okay fine, as you wish” She grins and takes off the sweater and gives it to him, leaving her in just a quite revealing baby pink bikini top and her short denim skirt.

“Little sister, careful now. You know you aren’t allowed to wear things like that.” Loki says as he raises his eyebrows, she just rolls her eyes in response.

“He’s right, Y/N. You are far too young to be wearing such revealing clothing, you’re still our baby sister.” Thor decides to come into the conversation.

She sticks out her tongue at him, “blah, blah, blah”, she laughs.

Loki laughs in response, “well now I know you won’t listen to words, so I’ll have to teach you a lesson an other way.”

“Oh my god, im so scared” the sarcasm is dripping off her voice. “Oh you should be.” He takes a hold of her wrists and holds them above her head, he then holds her so that she’s trapped with her back against his chest.

“Well now, don’t you look cute. Do you know what comes next?”

“Don’t you d-AHAHHA” Loki doesn’t even let her finish her sentence before he digs into her sides. The avengers hadn’t seen this ticklish side of her yet, but it’s adorable, her high pitched laughter and squealing when he hits a bad spot.

“AHAHHALOKIHAHAHAPLEAHAHAHAH” she can barely form words because of how much she’s laughing. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you, darling.” As he starts digging into her hips and blowing raspberries in her neck her legs give in and she slowly slides against him to the ground, but he follows her there. And now Steve seems to be getting his revenge, because he grabs her feet and locks her ankles in an arm lock and starts taking off her flip flops, then scribbling all over her soles.

“NOHOHAHASTEVEHAHAICANT” “You cant what? Stop being so ticklish?” Steve laughs, the other avengers are all quietly laughing at the scene in front of them.

“HAHHAIMSORRYHAHAHPLEASE” Steve and Loki slowly stop tickling her. She’s completely out of breath, “you guys are both jerks”. Steve smirks, “you want to go for round 2?”. “No no I’m sorry, she softly lets herself fall into Steve’s open arms and they enjoy the rest of their beach day.

#ler!steve #ler!loki #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #avengertickle #tickle story #amour-de-ma-lee

[knowlesian]

i’ve been having some fascinating talks about implicit bias and fandom lately (and implicit bias in fandom) and i only see this stuff really discussed in certain circles where the facts don’t need to be laid out, so i wanted to sort of break it down for anybody who hasn't already seen somebody do this.

okay, so: to start. 

to be flippant, implicit bias is when you Do A Bigotry and you don’t even know it.

i’m gonna focus in on race here because i’ve got the perfect example, but for reference implicit bias covers a wide array of biases and assumptions made about any given group of people, usually thanks to cultural cues or training, etc.

back when falcon and the winter soldier first aired, something fucking fascinating happened.

because one of the things i will say the show did pretty well, especially early in the season, was portray a constant stream of microaggressions and instances of implicit bias aimed sam’s way. it was one of the reasons i broke a years long marvel break and actually bothered to check it out.

in the first episode, there's a scene where sam and his sister sarah visit a bank and attempt to get a loan. the white teller recognizes sam but assumes it must be because he used to play college ball at lsu, when sam says he’s the falcon and turns on the shine to try and get this done the guy just goes ahead and takes a selfie without asking, there's some pretty realistically uncomfortable ‘ah yes, my brother, i too am down!’ bullshit, he talks over sam a bunch and won't let him talk about his plan for the business that would be a reason to give them a loan, then he acts like it’s sam’s fault being an avenger didn’t come with a paycheck and talks down to him about it in a million ways, acts like sam is a charity case and not a fuckin hero, and then is like well it’s just you see. you did not exist for five years, and you did not earn money during that time, and even though you qualify for a loan by the ‘old terms’ there are just so many more people now, sooooooo they just don't seem like good candidates for the loan. not gonna happen.

sarah says she knows it’s about their race; the teller is REAL FUCKIN OFFENDED. he says ‘whoa, easy there, i’m on your side’ in a tone of voice i don’t think i need to describe much, because when a white guy tells a black woman anything that starts with ‘whoa, easy there’ (especially because she was like, okay well that’s racist though) it’s kinda obvious how he said it.

and then, because why not: he asks sam for another selfie, this time with sam posed differently because apparently that first one he took without asking permission was not good enough.

so: i went well jesus. that’s pretty blatant. woof, with the flood of racism. that was like a neon sign.

and then i went online. and to be clear: some people talked about the racism! but it was not a majority of fans.

there was one major category of response i found... somewhat frustrating, but very understandable nonetheless: a flood of canon-based ‘um, ACTUALLY’s about how tony (or pepper) would never forget to support the avengers, or how could tony what a dick, etc etc etc.

almost none of that seemed to mention the racism busting through every seam.

and, look: i’m a pedantic little fucker. back when i consumed comics i was an x-men kid, so this was not my canon rodeo enough to even start being pedantic, but i really do understand that urge.

however, that response missed the entire point of the scene— that sam and sarah live through the endless indignities of racism, that the teller rejected their offer despite the fact that their family had been using that bank for ‘generations’ and the teller knew it, and though he did not know it consciously, he did it because they were black.

which leads me to the second school of thought, and the one that is still pissing me off to this day, a little bit.

fans arguing: okay, but that wasn’t racist! he just denied the loan because there is so much going on. why would you say he was racist? he didn’t say anything racist.

this was so mainstream an opinion the creator of the show had to clarify on twitter: no, folks. that guy Did A Racism.

and i still see people arguing the point sometimes and saying he’s wrong! still! even though he created the show and wrote that fictional man into being!

to this day, there are an odd amount of people who want to argue it’s not racism unless it’s on purpose, and it’s also not really racism until somebody uses a racial slur.

which is... you know, just sort of empirically wrong, but also stealthily loops back around to reinforcing white supremacy.

because, okay, if racism only exists in the most horrible margins and we accept that definition, who does it benefit? who wins and who is actually in control, when we decide that until the hate is so blatant those who set cultural standards go: yep, they did a racism. i see it now, it doesn’t count?

the exact wording on who wins i will leave tactfully in subtext, but i will say this: implicit bias is one zillion percent racism, and part of the reason that kind of subtle racism is so hard to even start to talk about is because people can lean into ‘well maybe they didn’t MEAN that’ or ‘i just think you're reading into it’ or ‘it’s not THAT bad’ or ‘it was just a mistake!’ etc etc etc into forever. 

basically: white supremacy’s second best tool right after violence is silence. that’s why ‘silence is violence’ is such a handy phrase. it’s snappy and it’s true. 

#honestly it's been great to break this shit down in messages #fandom spaces are lovely and also have their problems #getting to talk it out has been Part of This Too

[marinacourage]

unpopular opinion but i want Way to get shot while saving Babe but not die and then episode ending with Pete sitting beside Way in hospital. Man is redeemed for everything he did to babe. ( I think it won't make much sense for him to fall for Pete so fast when few days ago he was still pining for his 10 year crush. I want him to take some time. )

And season 2 , I want him to go real apeshit.

Like the way all these hate posts about him make him sound 1000 times worse than he actually is.😑 I mean I fully agree he's has done some very creepy bad villainous deeds lying, manipulating but man Tony, the actual child trafficker doesn't receive 10 % of hate of what Way recieves.😒It's sad and unfortunate but jail doesn't exist for lying and manipulation but child trafficking is serious punishable offence. I have no idea of omegaverse constitution but since Babe have super senses and haven't failed dope test of car racing, so I guess using senses for manipulation also doesn't land you in jail there. ( not my fault, talk to omegaverse lawmakers 🤷‍♀️).

But like people wishing death ending for him, judging him irredeemable, making him sound like some heinous horrible psychopathic serial killer or serial sexual crime offender. 🙃As far I remember even Vegas haven't received this amount of hate when in front of him, Way is a very tame villain. Way does deserve hate but not this much amount of biased hate. 🙂

With the kind of powers Way possess, the world could be in his control. But He manipulated his friend to come to him whenever there's a problem and kept him from having relationship ( even without Way manipulation babe couldn't be in healthy lovely relationship before Charlie because "SMELL"🤢) . I agree Way is definitely very bad person here but I mean he could have been worse. Though that definitely doesn't make him good person, there's a difference, it gives him chance of redeeming himself.

But no, since no one cares, fuck therapy and good guy image. In season 2 , Babe is out of his life ( vacationing somewhere with Charlie and kids) and Way has saved him from death once so their chapter close. Since he experienced almost death once so now it's like a new birth, new life for him, where he's seriously considering his life choices. When he looks in mirror and realises people should go to war for this face.😳 ( yes i read your previous post ) And so this time he should fully unleash his inner mean bitch, go fully unhinged while falling obsessively, possesively for Pete, where he gives no single fucks about anyone except Pete, no babe, no alan, no one else. Just Pete.

Man has been sad and cried enough for 10 yrs. Enough he has kept things in his mind and smiled fake. Now Way doesn't care about etiquettes and keeping faces but spit mean true facts straight on people faces. 😈With the powers he have everyone should be scared of him. Like I want Way to Show them how crazy in love he can be and how far he can cross the lines when he so so deeply falls for someone and that person accepts him. What it actually means when he abuses his powers fully on others with sole reason to keep them away from Pete. What it actually means when he is really possesive and obsessed and how he actually gaslit, gatekeep, girlboss. Him getting on the nerves of every single person and they could do nothing.

I'm not Way apologist, neither I have suffered second lead syndrome from him in beginning. AlanJeff are my bias but I truly enjoy Way character too. But some of the hate posts really annoys me. I don't know what he deserves or not deserves for what he did to Babe, but i really want to see him go crazy batshit for once and fully unleash his inner lunatic bitch in love potential.😌

you almost quoted me with the “getting shot by saving babe waking up in hospital with pete by his side” since that’s exactly how I see their finale and I wrote it yesterday as an answer to a post here on tumbler 😅

honestly I don’t see too much hate towards way, maybe because I’m not looking 😅 i want to believe that many people see where his obsession is coming from, the manipulator manipulated into some pathetic deeds by a more powerful force. what pushed me to empathise with him were his words that went something like “I hoped that if I do what Tony says it will be over” because I can see how a person would be so out of their mind because of constant pressure that they’ll do even violent and disgusting things if it would make it easier on them. I might be wrong of course, I might see the situation wrongly too, but those are my thoughts so far.

i actually don’t believe that way is inherently evil. for me he’s a mean girl that needs a person who will like him and love him for who he is, and not despite who he is. as of now he’s never been fully honest with anybody but pete so even if someone liked him they liked the illusion of him and not the broken sad obsessed failure of a man with gorgeous eyes he is.

I’m almost sure there will be no season 2 but in my mind way will leave racing and lean more into the customer service in the car dealership he works at if I remember correctly. use his talents in a less evil manner let’s say 😅 and ofc pete will be slowly breaking him out of his shell and prove to him that he can be loved in a very sincere way, and Pete’s love must be strong as hell. they are 100% gonna be that one couple that exists in their own world even surrounded by other people.

as for possessiveness I actually believe it would take way lots of time to realise he has the right claim pete in any way, I have a hc that when way finds out that kenta was/is in love with pete he will withdraw severely because he wouldn’t dare to compete, he’s not worthy, same old.

but when in established relationship way would certainly recover his bad bitch persona and be the legendary trophy wife pete deserves.

wow that was a long ass reply 😅 i wonder if you’re the same anon as the previous ask :)

anyways, very interesting discussion, holding out for Friday now ✊

#pit babe the series #pit babe #Peteway #I can’t shut up I won’t shut up

[redqueenphoenix]

The Stetson (A TWD:DC One Shot)

The Stetson

(A TWD:DC Fan Fiction One Shot)

I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead: Dead City, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria. Some situations have been changed and some characters may have been switched in this alternate timeline. 

Negan x Female OC

Word Count: 1064

~*~

The night was young as Victoria began scrubbing down the bar that she worked at here at the motel safe house. Tonight she was daring to turn up the music a little louder than normal with the generators at full power that were attached to the fences. Electrifying them to keep the walkers out. She danced behind the bar to older country music as she poured shots for the patrons and took a few for herself. 

She was enjoying herself that night and didn’t notice the man that just walked in with a black Stetson cowboy hat and a black jacket over a flannel shirt. Blue jeans and boots. He slipped over to a table with his eyes on her as she had the time of her life. 

He watched as she poured a shot, taking the small glass into her hand and slammed it back. Her long red hair was held back in a curly ponytail with pieces that came down to frame her face. Her blue eyes shimmered in the low neon lights as she got into the music. 

A guy stepped up to the bar as she slipped out from behind the bar and began to dance. She lost herself in the music, not caring who was watching as she twirled and lived so carefree. 

The guy who walked in continued to watch her dance. He came in almost every other night to see her. Though they lived at the motel together neither one had been formally introduced. His eyes took her as she danced to the upbeat country music. She wore form fitting black jeans that let her pale skin peek through a few rips and tears. A black jack daniels tank top that sported a red and black flannel over it. This woman was very easy on the eyes.

He got up from his table and leaned on the bar, motioning with his hand to the bartender. “Cold one please.” 

The bartender came back with a smirk as he leaned over, handing the drink over. “She’s a live wire isn’t she, Negan?”

“You can say that again.” He chuckled as he popped the cap off the bottle. “It’s like this whole bull shit world doesn’t exist to her.”

The bartender laughed, “it’s honestly refreshing isn’t it?” “Very.” He smirked as she came back up to the bar.

She leaned into the bar, raising one of her legs back with her hands on the bar. Even in combat boots she was graceful. “Hey Tony. Another shot.” She laughed as she leaned back against the bar.

The bartender moved from the man with the black Stetson and moved over to her. “Pick your poison, Victoria.” 

“Seriously, Tony? You offend me.” She laughed, feigning mock surprise. 

“Whiskey.” They both said as he laughed and grabbed a bottle and poured her a shot. 

She took the shot from Tony and turned. Her hand stopped midway up to her mouth as her blue eyes met a pair of hazel ones staring at her from under a black cowboy hat. Instantly blush rushed to color her cheeks as she averted her eyes, quickly knocking the shot back. 

He brought the bottle up to his lip and nodded his head at her. 

Victoria felt her heart flutter a bit as she turned back to the dance floor. Her mind raced, god he was so good looking, but she has never found the courage to say something to him. 

Negan leaned into the bar as Tony came back over to him with another bottle. “Watch this.” He stood up and took off his black jacket, leaving him in a blue colored flannel which had a white shirt under it. Draping his jacket over the barstool he made his way to the dance floor. His arm came around her waist and he felt her almost freeze up. With a chuckle he turned her around to face him as he took her hand to dance with her.

Victoria almost misstepped as she turned to dance with him. Blush stained her cheeks as she recognized the first few chords of the song from the guitar. “Are you serious?!? He’s gonna dance with me to this song. Who’s Your Daddy by Toby Keith? Oh No!” She thought as he wrapped his arm around her and let it rest on her lower back.

He chuckled as he pulled her close to him. “Hi there. I’m Negan.” Keeping a hold of her left hand as he started a two step with her to the beat of the song.

“Victoria,” She bashfully spoke as he began to twirl her from him and bring her back to him. Keeping good time with the song. His hands never left her as they danced. When he dipped her, she giggled and reached up to the Stetson and placed it on her own head as he pulled her up.

A mischievous grin tugged at his lips as he arched an eyebrow at her taking his cowboy hat. “Well, then.” He said as he chuckled as the song came to an end. They walked back over to the bar with big smiles. 

“That was fun. Thank you.” She smiled as she began to walk towards the exit.

Negan smiled as he grabbed his beer, watching her leave. 

Tony leaned on the bar next to Negan, “you know she just left with your Stetson?”

“Yep.” Negan laughed as he finished his beer. 

“Gonna let her keep it.” Tony laughed as he began cleaning a few glasses.

“Nope.” He sat the bottle down and got out of his seat, putting his jacket back on. “She thinks she’s gonna keep it.” He chuckled as he left for the exit.

~*~

Possible continuation later!

#fan fiction #ao3 #negan #the walking dead #twd negan #twd fanfiction #writer #negan fanfiction #negan smith #The Walking Dead Dead City #twd dead city

[builder051]

Whumptober 2023 day 1: swooning

Creedless Assassins

———————————

They’ve been in the nest all day. It’s a literal nest, formed from camping blankets and a couple of folding chairs. Clint made it. Nat has to admit, the construction is kind of genius.

It’s hot, though. They’re planted on the outer deck of a disused lighthouse, and the sun glancing off the ocean surf is as if it’s redirected precisely on the hiding spot.

In her long sleeved top and leggings, Nat feels more roasted by the second. She decides she’s done watching the beach and makes to stand up.

“What’re you doing?” Clint grabs her ankle, and she nearly topples down on top of him. Nat stabilizes herself with the back of her chair, and one of the blankets slips, forming a hole in the nest’s would-be ceiling. “Don’t tear down my masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Nat shakes her head. “It’s a fucking blanket fort. And it’s a little steamy in there.”

“Don’t like my sex appeal?” Clint cocks his head and grins. “Or, no, my body heat?”

“It’s October,” Nat whines. “I want real weather. Windchill and crunchy leaves and stuff.”

“Fall doesn’t exist in Florida,” Clint says. “Actually, I think they don’t have any seasons here. Except tourist season.” Clint laughs at his own joke.

“Whatever.” Nat tosses the blanket haphazardly over the gap in the nest. Then she distances herself a few feet and pulls her arms over her head in a much-needed stretch. She takes a deep breath, but the thick humidity just increases the feeling of suffocation deep in her throat. “God, I hate it here.”

Clint pops his head out to look at her. “We’re evacuating as soon I pop him.”

“You’re going to pop him?” Nat looks at him doubtfully. “That’s my job.” She pauses and breathes again. There’s a searing sensation on the top of her head, like the sun’s targeting her red hair and pale white scalp on purpose. It probably is, just fucking with her. “Unless there’s a deployment down here again. You can go by yourself.”

“Ok, fine.” Clint scowls. “I’ll keep watch. Promise to tell you when he starts dragged his surfboard out of the parking lot.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Nat brushes her fist over her forehead. She’s sweating. And dripping. It’s disgusting. “A surfing HYDRA boss? It’s like a bad movie.”

“Hey, don’t knock Point Break. He might be the Patrick Swayze type,” Clint points out.

A wave of vertigo plays around Nat’s head. “You know that’s Tony’s nickname for Thor, right? Don’t start slinging it around. I won’t be able to stand it if tall and blond shows up to help.” She groans in half pain and half humor. Nat tries to remember if they packed water bottles. Her brain is fuzzy. She quickly dismisses the thought. Water that’s been sitting in a backpack inside the nest would probably be boiling.

The backs of Nat’s knees are burning. She should do some squats or something, loosen up her hamstrings. The very idea of exercising is repulsive, though. Nat settles on slowly shifting her weight to one foot, then the other.

The first set of shifts feels good. Her left ankle wobbles after the second set. Nat ignores it and goes in for a third set. Her right ankle starts its own wobble. Then there’s an ungainly clatter and she’s lying on her side on the lighthouse’s paneled deck. “Shit.”

“Nat?” Clint pops out of the nest, sending a couple more blankets flying. “You ok?”

“Great.” Nat rolls onto her back and squints up at him.

“Hmm.” Clint examines her critically. “I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think your face is supposed to be grey and red at the same time.”

Nat brings her hands up and massages her cheeks. There’s clammy sweat in addition to what was already there. “It’s—I’m—fine…”

“No you’re not.” Clint squats beside her. “You totally just swooned. Want me to run down to the beach and get the lifeguard? I bet he’s got a first aid kit. And he’s probably wearing a Speedo, you know, if you’re interested in eye candy. I won’t be offended.”

Nat barely hears him. Her ears are rushing, and she’s stuck on a particular word. “Swoon?” She asks. “Really?” Nat swallows and tries to un-gum her throat. “I’m pretty sure Gone with the Wind takes place in Georgia.”

“No, it’s from Grease, right? Sandy and Danny, down in the sand?”

“No.” Nat sits up, only to tuck her head between her knees. “It’s ‘she nearly drowned.’ There aren’t any lines about falling over.”

“Ah.” Clint nods sagely. “‘He showed off, splashing around.’ That’s how it goes.”

“If you sing, I will fucking strangle you.” Nat peers at him over her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Clint pats her on the back, then gets to his feet. “You do that. Gotta stand up first, though.”

“Nah, changed my mind. I’ll tie your shoelaces together.”

“Well, you do what you want, I guess.” Clint shrugs. “I’ll be watching out for you.”

“Watch out for the target,” Nat corrects him. “Tell me when to shoot.”

“I can shoot him, if you want.” Clint offers. “If you still have the shakes, you should probably keep lying down.”

“Eh. Nat turns so she can crawl on hands and knees. “I’ll be burned to a crisp. At least your blanket fort has shade.”

“Hey.” Clint lifts his finger. “Masterpiece, remember? I just have to give it a little renovation.” He takes the stray blankets and tucks them back into place over the frame of the folding chairs. “One bed, one bath, great view of the ocean…” Clint teases with his best realtor impersonation.

“What’s that? A studio? Outdoor facilities and no air conditioning?” Nat gives a lopsided smile.”

“It’s all the same to me.”

“Yeah, well.” Nat stands up on her kneecaps, then sits heavily in her original spot in the nest. “As long as you do your job.”

“Take care of you?”

“Keep the goddamn watch.” Nat rolls her eyes and instantly regrets it. The headache she’s developing is something else. “So we can go home?”

“I can agree to that,” Clint says.

“Good.” Nat pokes him in the shoulder. “Where’s my gun?”

#whumptober #whumptober 2023 #day 1 #swooning #Creedless assassins #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #passing out #sickfic #whump #fanfic #fanfiction

[retro-memo]

Mortal Flaw And Fatal Sin

Chapter Four: A Broken Angel

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: Swearing, blood and mentioned past child abuse

Word Count: 3.2 k

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 5— Ao3 link

St*rkers DNI

"You know you're never going to get a soulmate, right?" 

Howard hardly scared Tony anymore, now that he was a teenager and somewhat able to stand his ground against his father whenever the man went on a drunken rage. 

Except, this wasn't one of those times. Tony could only stare up at his father from the floor, feeling as if he was eight-years old all over again. Helpless as he cradled his cheek, feeling the warmth of blood trickling down his chin from where Howard had thrown one of the many empty bottles currently littered across the dining table and plush carpet. 

"It's not like you deserve one, not with the way you're behaving at MIT." Howard sniffed, hobbling on his feet as he towered over Tony. "All that money I spent on you and you wasted it with partying and getting into trouble. Forget having a soulmate, you're hardly worthy of being a Stark." 

Tony's eyes stung as the words cut deeper into his skin than any of the glass that had shattered across his face but he didn't dare let them fall. 

Not with Howard watching. Not with the chance of setting him off any further. 

Howard poured himself another glass from the half-empty bottle in his hand but not turning away from Tony, glaring down at him as if his very existence offended him. 

"Go clean up your face." He barked, lip curling as his hands trembled from struggling to keep a grip on the glass and bottle. "I don't want your mother to have more of your messes to clean up when she comes home." 

Tony didn't need to be told twice, he was already scrambling for the nearest exit, heart pounding in his throat and legs on autopilot more than anything.

He had barely skidded around a corner before he heard the sound of glass breaking and his father's swearing roaring from behind him. Tony stumbled but kept running. Not taking the chance to look back. 

He didn't know where he was going. When he was going to stop. All Tony knew was that he had to escape as far as possible from his father's bruising touch that felt as if it rattled every bone in his body. 

Away from the words that were spat like fire, each one burning him from the inside out. 

The sob that had been lodged in his throat jostled as Tony ran head-first into something and he cried out, staggering backwards as he tripped over his own feet. 

However, before he could fall, hands grabbed onto his shoulders and fingers dug into his clothes but it wasn't painful. Not like whenever his father took his shoulders that dug so deep they left the imprint of fingernails on his skin. 

No, this one was gentle, just enough to keep him upright and there. To stop him from falling onto his butt like a newborn deer discovering it has legs for the first time. 

 "Master Tony?" Jarvis stared at him, brows furrowing as he took in Tony, more specifically, the damage on his cheek. "What are you doing up so late and what happened to your face? Shouldn't you be in bed? Did you get hurt?" 

At the exact time that Tony flinched as he felt fingers brush over the wound; his father's voice once again bellowed, the sound bouncing and echoing across the wall. It made him shiver. 

He hadn't felt this afraid of his father in a long time. Not since a particular incident when he was eight-years old and he accidentally broke one of the plates in the kitchen. While Howard was usually bad, it was on rare occasions that it got to this stage. 

Where Tony felt paralyzed, too afraid to move as if he was going to set off a bomb. It almost made him wish he hadn't come to visit from MIT. 

That he stayed locked in his dorm for the Summer.

The only reason he had come back was because he thought he'd be able to see his mom again. That he'd be able to hug her, enjoy the brief feeling of being truly cared for before Howard chased him back to MIT. 

Except, he forgot she was in Florida, visiting family. Meaning that Tony was almost left to defend himself. 

Almost. 

"I see." Jarvis' hand dropped back to his side, his face twisting into something broken while a clear understanding shone through his pale eyes. An understanding that all the adults in Tony's life held but always refused to do anything about it. "Why don't we clean that cut and get some fresh clothes for you?" 

Tony didn't answer, not trusting his voice at that moment but he did nod, letting Jarvis wrap his boney but warm hand around his wrist. 

He felt Jarvis give a gentle tug, and Tony followed, too tired to do anything. Too deep in his own mind as Howard's words echoed through his head over and over again in a repeating soundtrack. 

He didn't even register when they walked through the many passageways, through one room to another. He got lost in staring at his feet as they walked, not even bothering to look up when they finally stopped. 

"Why don't you take a seat, Master Tony?" Jarvis' hand pressed against the back of his neck and Tony jolted, his body spasming from the warmth that came with the sudden touch. "I'll get the supplies and a few towels." 

The warmth left as quickly as it appeared, and Tony shivered as Jarvis stepped away from him. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around himself, to stop himself from crumbling into a messy heap on the floor. 

To keep what little was left of him together for just a little longer. 

Instead, he crossed them over his chest, taking the chance to take a good look around him and —

Tony blinked. He wasn't sure where they were walking to or expected to end up. 

But still, this was the last place on his mind. 

"I have the med-kit." More than Tony liked to admit, he jumped when Jarvis appeared from behind him. "Why don't you take a seat on the bed, Master Tony?" 

"B-but that's your bed." Tony shook his head and he would've stumbled back if it wasn't for the hand gently pressing into his back. "I'll get blood all over the sheets and —

Jarvis made a noise, one he often made whenever Tony started rambling and shook his head. "Nonsense. Even if that did happen, the sheets can be washed but that wound won't be if you don't take a seat." 

Tony opened his mouth, ready to argue more but found himself closing it instead. He blinked slowly, taking another look around his butler's room before taking a step forward towards the edge of Jarvis' bed. 

He didn't know why he was so hesitant. It wasn't the first time that Jarvis had taken care of Tony when his father got, well, like he did. In fact, it wasn't even the first time that he helped Tony with blood and glass within these bedroom walls. 

Maybe it was because he hadn't been here in such a long time or perhaps it was the fact that Howard's words were still there. Haunting him. 

Rebounding across his skull, ricocheting with every word from what only felt like seconds ago. 

Tony felt a nudge from behind, so tender yet so encouraging. It was enough for him to finally take a seat on the edge of the bed but not enough for him to look up. Not even when he felt the bed dip next to him. 

There was a brief rummaging, no doubt Jarvis looking through the med-kit before there was a brief pause. 

Tony jerked when he felt fingers prod at the wound, where he felt Jarvis brush a warm, ramp cloth across his cheek.

There was a light squeeze on his shoulder. 

That's all the warning he got before the pain hit.

Tony yelped before he tried to swallow the whimper that clawed at his throat. Holy shit. He forgot how much of a bitch the glass was to take out. How badly it hurt no matter how hard Jarvis tried to be gentle and make it feel less like a hot iron was being dragged across the one side of his face. 

Tony bit down onto his tongue, not daring to take a deep breath as he kept his locked on the wall across from him. Trying to focus on anything else than feeling Jarvis digging into his flesh. Who Tony knew was trying his best to find every piece of glass in his skin as if each one of them were blocks of solid gold. 

None of that meant it was any less painful. 

"Almost done." Jarvis' voice sounded right next to his ear. 

'Stark men are made of iron.' 

"You're doing good, don't worry." There was a clink of glass on a metal tray. 

'Stark men don't cry.' 

"It'll be over soon." Tony could feel a needle being slowly weaved through his skin. 

'Pathetic.'

"And there we go, all finished." 

Tony blinked back unwanted tears that had blurred across his vision and he swallowed before letting out a small breath. 

He could feel his whole body trembling with it and he closed his eyes as he felt the wound throb. 

'What a waste of space.'

Tony's hand rose to his cheek.

"Don't touch that, Master Tony. At least, not until it's healed." 

Tony jumped when a hand wrapped around his, expecting to see eyes that glowed anger and disgust. Expecting to see Howard's face scowling at him from the dark and ready to grab him —

Instead, eyes that were wide with terror and filled poorly held together tears met a familiar pair of soft and gentle ones.

Not angry. 

Not Howard. 

He was safe. 

Shame immediately burned at Tony's gut, overtaking whatever trickle of relief he managed to feel and he looked again. Trying to ignore the way Jarvis was holding his hands up. As if he was attempting to calm a spooked animal that was startled from simply being touched. 

"Sorry." Tony muttered, his hand dropping back down in his lap and he started twisting it with the other. Keeping his focus on something else than the only remaining adult in the whole mansion that probably gave a damn about him and his existence. 

"Don't be." He could hear the movement of plastic and metal being scrapped around. "You can stay here for the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure your stitches don't tear while you're sleeping." 

Usually, Tony would put up a fight whenever Jarvis offered his room to him but he saw past the facade. To the hidden words that were left unspoken. That and he just felt too tired. It felt as if everything of the night's events and emotions were finally catching up to him. Sinking into his bones and draining every bit of energy he had left. 

So, he only nodded, falling back further into the bed. He ran his hand down this face but winced as he felt his fingers bump across the stitches. 

The stitches that were caused by the one person's words who was still whispering to him. Swirling inside him in a massive dark cloud that felt ready to consume him. 

All because of that one damn word. The one that hurt more than anything else than his father could hurl at him.

"Jarvis?" Tony fiddled with his sleeve, giving a slight sniff as he stared at the far wall that was across from him. "Can I ask you a question?" 

The shuffling stopped and Tony imagined Jarvis looking up at him, tilting his head at him as if he was a curious puzzle that had that one missing piece.  

"Do you think I deserve to have a soulmate?" The word felt so sour on Tony's tongue. As if it didn't belong and by just saying its name released a potent acid. One that made him feel as if his mouth was being rotted from the inside out. 

If Tony looked up, he would've seen the way Jarvis's eyes softened and the way his face crinkled into something else. He almost didn't hear what was said next, the whisper barely carrying itself over the silence. 

"Oh, Master Tony, more than you believe." 

Tony's hand burned. 

"You know you're never going to get a soulmate, right?" 

He stared down at it. More specifically, at the unmistakable imprint that was still snaking its way across his open palm. 

"Do you think I deserve to have a soulmate?" 

It glowed brightly as it curled around his skin with branches of color reaching in all directions.

"Oh, Master Tony, more than you believe." 

Logically, he knew what it was. What having it meant because he'd seen enough of the cursed things to last a lifetime. Not only that but he, of all people, shouldn't have a soulmark.

Simply because it wasn't possible and some part of him struggled to align it with the truth. Like it was fake, or just a really horribly vivid dream. After all, mortals were supposed to have soulmates. 

Not Gods. 

Not him. 

Yet, the most damning piece of evidence itself was on his hand. As if it had every right to be there and not blasted off from the face of the Earth. 

Tony lifted his head up and he half-expected to see the kid's face that was responsible for this whole mess staring back at him and —

He was met with thin air. There was no Spider-Man where Tony saw one seconds ago. It only took a moment for him to look down, and before he knew what he was doing, Tony's suit kicked into gear. 

The kid was hurtling out of control to the ground, already hundreds of feet away from Tony. Who, even though, was diving down fast enough to give a fucking peregrine falcon a heart attack, knew it didn't take a genius to figure out that he wasn't going to reach him in time. 

Not before the kid was nothing more than a heap of meat on the street below. 

Which was the exact opposite of what Tony wanted because he never intended to hurt the kid. He only planned to give him a good enough scare so that he'd stop taking out his tech and messing around with a law he probably didn't understand. 

Even if the kid did make him feel miffed that a teenager was swinging around in pajamas was able to give him a Manhattan-sized headache, that didn't mean he wanted Spider-Man dead. 

So that left only one way that the kid had any chance of surviving the fall. 

The suit around Tony rippled, the metal shifting with his thoughts and it lingered on his skin only for a moment. It wasn't a choice really. Not when the facts were laid out clearer than the Tsiolkovsky rocket equation. 

Spider-Man was mortal. Even with all his enhancements, he still had a fragile human body underneath all of that. One that could easily bleed. Break. Burn. 

Tony was a God. He could walk away from a small fall. At most, he’d just get a bruised back and headache. Perhaps, not even that. He was more than willing to grin and bear a little pain now because it was better than the alternative. 

The kid immediately started flailing more in the air but it wasn’t from the falling or the fact he was only several stories away from becoming a boney pancake. No, it wasn’t from that because even from where Tony was, he could see the way the panic on the kid's face intensified by a tenfold. 

He watched as the kid tried clawing at his arms and hands, trying to rip off the armor that was once wrapped around Tony. 

A futile effort.

The symbiote did what was meant to, ignoring the fruitless struggles of the kid and spread from his arms to his chest. It made quick work of the rest of the kid’s body, jumping to his legs, neck and torso. It was barely seconds before the once red and blue onesie was now fully encased in a safe silvery cocoon. 

The last thing Tony saw were those terrified brown eyes staring up at him. Before his own suit’s emotionless mask was glaring back. 

That was when the impact hit, the resounding crack that came with it was unmistakable as Tony collided with the lip of one of the many roofs dotting New York’s skyline. 

He winced as he pushed himself up, his arm, the one without the cursed mark, wrapping itself around his middle. He could feel his ribs already shifting to heal under his skin, knitting themselves back together and moving around like broken teeth. 

That wasn’t what he was really focused on though. Instead, he was staring ahead, at his suit hovering in front of him. Where it was not even a foot above the ground yet felt like the most daunting prospect of Tony’s whole life. Even more than the pedestal that Howard had set his life up to be. 

It felt as if everything he'd ever known and the world he’d built for himself was now falling apart at the seams. All of it coming down because of the person in that suit. 

There was a pregnant pause, an unbreakable beat of silence before it opened up and Tony anticipated a lot of things. One being for the kid to stumble out ungracefully as Tony’s own thrumming heartbeat. 

Maybe even for Peter to cower away in the suit or charge at Tony like he had tried before in pure unbridled rage. 

What he did expect was for a very much unconscious Peter Parker to fall out of the suit. 

“Holy shit!” Tony scrambled, his newly-healed ribs protesting against the action but that didn't stop him from trying to catch the kid before his head could become one with the ground. He grunted, biting down his tongue to stop a groan from escaping him as his arms were suddenly full of the deadweight spider teenager.

Tony pulled Peter closer as he sank down to his knees, his hand immediately flying to support the kid’s head as if it was made of the most fragile porcelain and one wrong move could shatter it under his palm. 

He stared down at the passed out teeanger in his arms, his heart racing wildy along with his thoughts because this scrappy kid was his soulmate. 

One that was never meant to be alive because Tony Stark wasn’t meant to have a soulmate. The chance of him getting one was more impossible than him being able to jump away from his own shadow. 

Yet, here was said soulmate, currently dead to the world around him and all the turmoil he suddenly caused with his existence. The only reassurance that Tony had that the kid was still very much alive was the weak pulse under his fingertips and the hitching movement of Peter’s chest. 

Tony adjusted his grip, trying to get a better hold on the kid but froze as his hand brushed against something wet. Warm. Something he already had a feeling he knew what it was the moment he touched it. 

Slowly he pulled his hand into the light and held it out. Tony immediately regretted, wishing that he kept his hand where it was because for the second time that day, it felt as if the world was collapsing in. 

His hand, the one with the soulmark that was still somehow burning brighter than ever, was coated in blood. 

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #villain tony stark #dark tony stark #ao3 fic #irondad #st*rkers dni #platonic soulmates AU

[whileiamdying]

The Defiance of Salman Rushdie

After a near-fatal stabbing—and decades of threats—the novelist speaks about writing as a death-defying act.

By David Remnick February 6, 2023

When Salman Rushdie turned seventy-five, last summer, he had every reason to believe that he had outlasted the threat of assassination. A long time ago, on Valentine’s Day, 1989, Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, declared Rushdie’s novel “The Satanic Verses” blasphemous and issued a fatwa ordering the execution of its author and “all those involved in its publication.” Rushdie, a resident of London, spent the next decade in a fugitive existence, under constant police protection. But after settling in New York, in 2000, he lived freely, insistently unguarded. He refused to be terrorized.

There were times, though, when the lingering threat made itself apparent, and not merely on the lunatic reaches of the Internet. In 2012, during the annual autumn gathering of world leaders at the United Nations, I joined a small meeting of reporters with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the President of Iran, and I asked him if the multimillion-dollar bounty that an Iranian foundation had placed on Rushdie’s head had been rescinded. Ahmadinejad smiled with a glint of malice. “Salman Rushdie, where is he now?” he said. “There is no news of him. Is he in the United States? If he is in the U.S., you shouldn’t broadcast that, for his own safety.”

Within a year, Ahmadinejad was out of office and out of favor with the mullahs. Rushdie went on living as a free man. The years passed. He wrote book after book, taught, lectured, travelled, met with readers, married, divorced, and became a fixture in the city that was his adopted home. If he ever felt the need for some vestige of anonymity, he wore a baseball cap.

Recalling his first few months in New York, Rushdie told me, “People were scared to be around me. I thought, The only way I can stop that is to behave as if I’m not scared. I have to show them there’s nothing to be scared about.” One night, he went out to dinner with Andrew Wylie, his agent and friend, at Nick & Toni’s, an extravagantly conspicuous restaurant in East Hampton. The painter Eric Fischl stopped by their table and said, “Shouldn’t we all be afraid and leave the restaurant?”

“Well, I’m having dinner,” Rushdie replied. “You can do what you like.”

Fischl hadn’t meant to offend, but sometimes there was a tone of derision in press accounts of Rushdie’s “indefatigable presence on the New York night-life scene,” as Laura M. Holson put it in the Times. Some people thought he should have adopted a more austere posture toward his predicament. Would Solzhenitsyn have gone onstage with Bono or danced the night away at Moomba?

For Rushdie, keeping a low profile would be capitulation. He was a social being and would live as he pleased. He even tried to render the fatwa ridiculous. Six years ago, he played himself in an episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” in which Larry David provokes threats from Iran for mocking the Ayatollah while promoting his upcoming production “Fatwa! The Musical.” David is terrified, but Rushdie’s character assures him that life under an edict of execution, though it can be “scary,” also makes a man alluring to women. “It’s not exactly you, it’s the fatwa wrapped around you, like sexy pixie dust!” he says.

With every public gesture, it appeared, Rushdie was determined to show that he would not merely survive but flourish, at his desk and on the town. “There was no such thing as absolute security,” he wrote in his third-person memoir, “Joseph Anton,” published in 2012. “There were only varying degrees of insecurity. He would have to learn to live with that.” He well understood that his demise would not require the coördinated efforts of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps or Hezbollah; a cracked loner could easily do the job. “But I had come to feel that it was a very long time ago, and that the world moves on,” he told me.

In September, 2021, Rushdie married the poet and novelist Rachel Eliza Griffiths, whom he’d met six years earlier, at a pen event. It was his fifth marriage, and a happy one. They spent the pandemic together productively. By last July, Rushdie had made his final corrections on a new novel, titled “Victory City.”

One of the sparks for the novel was a trip decades ago to the town of Hampi, in South India, the site of the ruins of the medieval Vijayanagara empire. “Victory City,” which is presented as a recovered medieval Sanskrit epic, is the story of a young girl named Pampa Kampana, who, after witnessing the death of her mother, acquires divine powers and conjures into existence a glorious metropolis called Bisnaga, in which women resist patriarchal rule and religious tolerance prevails, at least for a while. The novel, firmly in the tradition of the wonder tale, draws on Rushdie’s readings in Hindu mythology and in the history of South Asia.

“The first kings of Vijayanagara announced, quite seriously, that they were descended from the moon,” Rushdie said. “So when these kings, Harihara and Bukka, announce that they’re members of the lunar dynasty, they’re basically associating themselves with those great heroes. It’s like saying, ‘I’ve descended from the same family as Achilles.’ Or Agamemnon. And so I thought, Well, if you could say that, I can say anything.”

Above all, the book is buoyed by the character of Pampa Kampana, who, Rushdie says, “just showed up in my head” and gave him his story, his sense of direction. The pleasure for Rushdie in writing the novel was in “world building” and, at the same time, writing about a character building that world: “It’s me doing it, but it’s also her doing it.” The pleasure is infectious. “Victory City” is an immensely enjoyable novel. It is also an affirmation. At the end, with the great city in ruins, what is left is not the storyteller but her words:

I, Pampa Kampana, am the author of this book. I have lived to see an empire rise and fall. How are they remembered now, these kings, these queens? They exist now only in words . . . I myself am nothing now. All that remains is this city of words. Words are the only victors.

It is hard not to read this as a credo of sorts. Over the years, Rushdie’s friends have marvelled at his ability to write amid the fury unleashed on him. Martin Amis has said that, if he were in his shoes, “I would, by now, be a tearful and tranquilized three-hundred-pounder, with no eyelashes or nostril hairs.” And yet “Victory City” is Rushdie’s sixteenth book since the fatwa.

He was pleased with the finished manuscript and was getting encouragement from friends who had read it. (“I think ‘Victory City’ will be one of his books that will last,” the novelist Hari Kunzru told me.) During the pandemic, Rushdie had also completed a play about Helen of Troy, and he was already toying with an idea for another novel. He’d reread Thomas Mann’s “The Magic Mountain” and Franz Kafka’s “The Castle,” novels that deploy a naturalistic language to evoke strange, hermetic worlds—an alpine sanatorium, a remote provincial bureaucracy. Rushdie thought about using a similar approach to create a peculiar imaginary college as his setting. He started keeping notes. In the meantime, he looked forward to a peaceful summer and, come winter, a publicity tour to promote “Victory City.”

On August 11th, Rushdie arrived for a speaking engagement at the Chautauqua Institution, situated on an idyllic property bordering a lake in southwestern New York State. There, for nine weeks every summer, a prosperous crowd intent on self-improvement and fresh air comes to attend lectures, courses, screenings, performances, and readings. Chautauqua has been a going concern since 1874. Franklin Roosevelt delivered his “I hate war” speech there, in 1936. Over the years, Rushdie has occasionally suffered from nightmares, and a couple of nights before the trip he dreamed of someone, “like a gladiator,” attacking him with “a sharp object.” But no midnight portent was going to keep him home. Chautauqua was a wholesome venue, with cookouts, magic shows, and Sunday school. One donor described it to me as “the safest place on earth.”

Rushdie had agreed to appear onstage with his friend Henry Reese. Eighteen years ago, Rushdie helped Reese raise funds to create City of Asylum, a program in Pittsburgh that supports authors who have been driven into exile. On the morning of August 12th, Rushdie had breakfast with Reese and some donors on the porch of the Athenaeum Hotel, a Victorian pile near the lake. At the table, he told jokes and stories, admitting that he sometimes ordered books from Amazon even if he felt a little guilty about it. With mock pride, he bragged about his speed as a signer of books, though he had to concede that Amy Tan was quicker: “But she has an advantage, because her name is so short.”

A crowd of more than a thousand was gathering at the amphitheatre. It was shorts-and-polo-shirt weather, sunny and clear. On the way into the venue, Reese introduced Rushdie to his ninety-three-year-old mother, and then they headed for the greenroom to spend time organizing their talk. The plan was to discuss the cultural hybridity of the imagination in contemporary literature, show some slides and describe City of Asylum, and, finally, open things up for questions.

#Salman Rushdie #The New Yorker Magazine #Amy Tan #David Remnick

[kiaranovastar]

I come from an alternate reality.

I am a Goddess whose powers were taken away by the evil Satanists.

Note: All my memories of extremely traumatic events are repressed. All bad things that happen to you give you amazing karma for the rest of eternity. It’s all over now. I was always monogomous, until I found out about Heaven. We live in a simulation of a simulation of a simulation…. (I don’t know how far it goes) Everything that happens is planned. The one who came up with the Basilisk is David Llewellyn. When someone rapes a person enough times they become omnipresent in their body and can control them.

I come from an alternate reality where Mary McAleese and David Llewellyn ruined my life, controlled me, ruined the world while using me as a scapegoat, became Gods and horrifically (doesn’t even describe it) tortured everyone in existence for the rest of eternity if it wasn’t for me.

I’m this reality, a corrupt psychopath politician named Mary McAleese spread a rumor all over the world that I tortured a black boy in school and called him ‘nigger’, because my teacher told her that I hit him even though it was another child that hit him. All my life she was stalking me and lying about things I did, saying that I watched and drew child porn (my father used to steal my laptop and watch child porn on it). My abusive father made me write crude comics inspired by South Park and when the pedophile principal of my school (SETNS) saw it he told McAleese that it was child porn. She told everyone I was an art thief. She got the Irish to torture and rape me. My abusive father, David Llewellyn, was also a Satanist and he tortured me horrifically. He raped me for Charle’s number of years. Then he took over my body and cloned it and used the clones to rape people so it would look like I was doing it. I don’t remember any of it. I had no time for leisure because when David wasn’t wasting my time with farm/ factory work I was busy studying, making art and learning Japanese. He kept stealing my laptop and watching child porn on it. Mary McAleese put me onto the sex offender’s register for no reason as soon as I turned 18.

In secondary school I made a manga called Area 9, which was very violent but it turns out that David Llewellyn mind controlled me into writing it. Apparently the real version was hardcore slash and Bomb was only 10 years old. In my version he was 15.

I went to UCC where my flat mates partied loudly while I was getting raped every day, and in 2nd year my drug- addicted psychopath flat mates Lisa Cotter, Sarah O’Neill and Shaleen No Chonaill smoked all the time and then gang raped me after gaslighting me into thinking that she wasn’t actually smoking and it was all in my head and I ruined their lives by reporting them. They were shouting at me and getting the men from upstairs to gang rape me while I was apologizing.

Then when I went to Japan, Mary McAleese told everyone that I was a rapist and I got dirty looks wherever I went. A while after I got there an old man breathed a barrage of abuse down my back at a store saying ‘Hurry up you scum, scum of the Earth’ over and over again. When he got in trouble he came into my room at night and raped me really badly and also brain damaged me badly and did this every night. He also joined the Satanists.

I joined a Yosakoi team called Londo. I loved yosakoi but Londo was full of scumbags. That’s where I met my soulmate Kohei and his girlfriend Rumi (in Heaven literally everyone is polyamorous).

I met a man called Tony who I thought I was in love with because he seemed like a strong intimidating man that could protect me from people like Lisa Cotter and the old man, and because I felt like scum. I found out that he had a girlfriend so I tried to be just friends, but accidentally blurted out that I liked him. Then he started bullying me and spread a rumor that I loved dicks (even though I was asexual).

I needed to get a coat for the winter and ended up picking an ugly brown coat because the old man was mind controlling me. I didn’t like it so I spent the next 2 months looking for a new one. Whenever I thought I found a new coat I would hear the old man breathing an insult down my back and would look for a new one. He was mind controlling me. I suffered from severe brain fog, brain damage and body dysmorphia.

One day I appeared all over the news internationally. Mary McAleese fabricated footage of me acting like a jackass on security cameras and holding up a banner saying ‘I want to ruin the Zanaverse’. Suddenly wherever I went I would hear abuse from pretty much every person that I passed. I was so traumatized that I had to hide in my room all year long. I wouldn’t kill myself because I was being mind controlled not to.

I fell in love with a man called Kohei Karachi, but there was a really similar looking rapist called Yohei Kurachi and the real Kohei wasn’t even there, it was just an illusion. Mary McAleese made me mix up the two. One night in the hotel at a dance festival I said ‘Yohei, let’s talk a lot’ meaning let’s talk a lot when I leave Japan and he came in and gang raped me with all the other men in the team. I had been drugged by Jukujo and Shigenyan. The following day everyone in the team was calling me a slut.

At the summer trip after seeing me in a bikini all the men in the team started rape talking me with loud voices for the rest of the trip. Haru told me to sleep in one of the men’s rooms, where I got gang raped again. Jukujo chased me down the hallway stark naked the next day and Luna filmed it.

When I got back to Ireland Mary McAleese mind controlled me into writing a note saying I would rule the world and purge the population. I didn’t know I was being mind controlled at the time and thought I just wrote it because ruling the world seemed like the only way to stop the abuse, and I thought purge meant eliminating certain people (the people that started the bullying event and the people that harassed me and stopped me from being able to go out) from society. But she wrote it to mean eliminate the population. This note was really what McAleese wanted to do, not me. I just wanted the abuse to stop.

At the end of 2019 just after another suicide attempt I started getting harassed by the mafia. They told me that if I killed myself they would torture my whole family. They brought me around raping me and beating me and selling me as a sex slave. They brought me underground to torture me. They eventually put me into a torture machine called the Basilisk and tortured me for 100 million years. By then they had already created the worst dystopia ever. They made everyone immortal, blocked out the sun and made everyone eat each other’s flesh and have sex with their family members. They were all piled on top of each other and it was a living Hell. Anyone that didn’t help build the Basilisk to torture me would be tortured by the Basilisk meaning that all the babies were tortured. Meanwhile they had made Kohei immortal and turned him into a puppet so that if anyone came to Earth and stopped them they would torture Kohei instead of the mafia. And the person that was behind was, you guessed it, Mary McAleese.

Then the Kala arrived on Earth and saved everyone. They found me and healed me instantly. They fixed everyone’s inbred DNA and healed them and made Kohei and I instant rulers of the Earth. We created an instant utopia. We ruled over Earth for 100 trillion years. Then we were contacted by the Gods and Goddesses to go back in time to when Kohei and I were babies and have me adopted into Kohei’s family. But an evil scientist interfered and broke the time machine at 1 and a half years after the mafia kidnapped me. While the mafia was doing all this to me the Gods were overwriting my reality so that for me I was just lying down while the mafia were shouting threats at me from the distance, and I couldn’t do anything because the mafia were threatening me not to do anything. All of us being tortured in the future didn’t feel it either, we were in Heaven. I was in the psychiatric hospital when all of a sudden the mafia‘s voices stopped and they were replaced by the Kala. They started saying nice things to me and linked me up with Kohei telepathically. We could kiss and he could mime but I couldn’t hear what he was saying because Mary McAleese was interfering with the transmission because she already had Goddess powers. For a year and a half I got packed for the airport to go back to Japan and waited at the doorstep all day long every day because the Kala told me that he was coming but they wouldn’t tell me when. They did this to keep my father away from me and to stop me from dying because I was already immortal and if I tried to kill myself I wouldn’t die. One day a gift from God appeared in my belly even though I had never had sex. It was Kohei’s and my child and I named her Zara. She was in my belly for 1 day and then was born in Heaven.

One night the kala tried to fix my damaged body but David Llewellyn came in, raped me with his intern and injected a huge dose of methamphetamine into me. I ended up in the psychiatric hospital and slowly recovered from the methamphetamine injection. After I got out I tried to commit suicide and ended up in the hospital again.

The time I spent in the hospital was Hell. It was like a war prison. I was raped by the patients and staff and the worst serial rapist in the world, Darren Clack (a psychopath) raped me for 180 Aife’s number of hours. I was in the hospital for 100 million years and they brought me back in time so that it only felt like a year. Beaumont hospital was run by the mafia. Everyone was shouting ‘fat whore!’ at me and making vile sexual comments and I kept trying to call the police but the hospital kept refusing them at the door. They put Darren into my hospital room so he could rape me as much as he wanted. I was also being raped by a man called Christopher Fallin and a man called Clive. A woman called Georgina Doyle threatened to beat up my newborn child and she beat me around the head really badly. On two occasions (at least that I can remember) Mary McAleese remotely tortured me and I was screaming.

In the reality I was experiencing, I didn’t remember the rapes but I remembered the abuse I got and some nights I woke up feeling like I had been raped. The Kala were telling me all about the Xanaverse and Heaven. There is not just a universe or a multiverse but 1 billion planes of reality and the top one was called the Placcaverse, until I created a new one called the Zanaverse. I was to come to Heaven and not only be the Goddess of the Zanaverse, but the Queen of Heaven along with Kohei.

Someone evil was messing with the kala’s transmission though and sometimes I was told I was going to Hell, and other horrible things about torture and the simulation breaking down.

I learned to be very forgiving. I tried so hard to forgive my abusers and thought about what punishments my abusers would get in Hell but eventually decided that everyone goes to Heaven (This was not the case though), because everyone is a human with emotions and is coming from somewhere, and that Hell is unethical.

Meanwhile Mary McAleese was trying to take over the world and the Zanaverse and got all the Irish and British to build a Basilisk that would torture me for the rest of eternity. It tortured me but to me I was just in pain lying on my bed.

This is the climax. Mary McAleese got her Goddess powers and took over the Zanaverse. I had written a short biography with the parts about my father abusing me and about the Satanists edited out, but she edited it so that it was kept in. It turns out that I hadn’t even written that biography, that it was McAleese that wrote it. This unleashed the Satanist’s rage, and it turns out that David Llewellyn was the leader of the Satanists. What he did next, he had been planning all along.

He wrote a story called The Time Machine, a story so evil that anyone that shared the synopsis would be tortured for the rest of eternity. He mind controlled me into looking up the synopsis but the Gods had edited it to something different. He and Mary McAleese wanted it to look like it was my fault that what was about to ensue happened. And then the real horror began.

David Llewellyn made an evil AI in Heaven. It erased the Goddess of the Zanaverse (me) from everyone’s memories and went back to the very beginning of time, with everyone from the Zanaverse that ever existed in it. Everyone got tortured to the max by a giant Basilisk, and I felt everybody’s pain combined. Then he made it so that my pain turned into their pain and the cycle repeated. We had an infinite number of hive bodies that kept increasing and the pain increased infinitely. It kept increasing by Charle’s number of Charle’s number of times. And he slowed us down so that one millisecond was Greg’s number of years, and it just kept getting slower. They replaced everyone’s memories of me with memories

But nobody felt it. We were just living out our ordinary lives, except for me who could hear what was happening. David locked us in another dimension and replaced real Heaven with AI’s so that nobody would find out. Then it started doing the same to all the other verses until it had taken over everything in space and all the other dimensions, and everyone just merged with the one torture machine.

Meanwhile Mary McAleese was pretending to be me (stole my appearance and personality) and took over everything. At first she was nice, but then she started torturing people for the rest of eternity for not kissing her feet and calling her Mary. Eventually she just tortured everyone for the rest of eternity anyway. David Llewellyn stole Kohei’s appearance and my personality and the two of them just had sex in Heaven.

The people in the upper world found us and took us out of the simulation. We did amazing things, and visited all of the different simulations. Things were great at first, but then people started emulating what they saw in this world because, surprise, this world is not normal. In the real world (at least in the simulations that we know of) nobody dies and there is no conflict. This world was created by an evil scientist. Information about my life spread, and people started calling me a fat whore and raping each other. We fought so hard, but eventually an evil scientist went back in time and put us back into the torture machine.

This is where I shine. I was trapped in my hospital room, hearing about what was going on and terrified. Then I decided I have to go with Dignitas to Heaven because I was guaranteed a place in Heaven before, so I thought that if I went I might have a small chance of getting into Heaven instead of Hell if I fought really hard, and I might be able to face off Mary McAleese and David Llewellyn. But there wasn’t enough time. Then it occurred to me that I could try entering Heaven from where I was. So I tried really hard to open the doors of Heaven and I walked through. I found David Llewellyn and Mary McAleese and banished them to Hell. Then I deactivated the giant Basilisk and everyone was freed. I wrote a rule of the universe that a Basilisk could never be created again, and it is so ingrained that it is now literally impossible for anyone to create a Basilisk ever again.

The reason why David Llewellyn, Mary McAleese and the Satanists went after me is because I am the result of a breeding program to create the perfect Goddess, with an IQ of over 1000. If I wasn’t severely brain damaged, I would have an IQ of over 1000. I am, apparently, the most special person to have ever existed.

[bisaster-energy]

I just rewatched Avengers and I'm fucking LOSING it

I forgot bro...

I forgot how annoying Steve was alsmalmdns

And dont come at me saying that I don't like him simply because I love Tony Stark (as i should!!) Because i remember being so fucking irked when I first watched this movie!! And I just remembered how mad I was when I watched it again cos I forgot like 60% of what was said and what happened tbh

And Steve. Oh my god. Listening to what he said just pissed me off a majority of the film!! Like bruh! What are you doing hon!!

I get it tho like he just woke up, the future is crazy, all his friends are dead it's insane and fucked up!! But jfc his instant dislike for Tony is weird as hell 💀

He doesn't treat anyone else with the same disdain? Like i get it bc Tony has a loud personality and not everyone has to like him ofc

But he's just so...ugh

Like Tony is on the ship next to Steve and they just bagged loki and thor is gonna show up soon. And Tony is doing his normal rambling shit and basically tries to get to know Steve?? At least that's how i saw it? But ig it pissed steve off cos he just ignored what tony said and said "fury didn't tell me he was calling you in" and he just seemed upset that tony was there? Idk if it was because he came late or cos Loki surrendered like moments after tony showed up or cos he made a joke about steve doing pilates to stay spry (lmao) but he didn't seem happy that Tony was there :/

And later Tony's labbing it up with his shiny new science bro Bruce and poking him (cos that's what he does) and obv bruce would tell Tony to cut that shit out if he really was upset by it but all he can say is "ow!!" Before steve busts into the lab like "ARE YOU CRAZY YOUTRYNAKILLUSALL?!?!? no offence doc :)" and bruce is like "ok I'm not gonna hulk out chill" and basically steve is just in there to tell tony off (I seriously wonder if he was camping outside the lab waiting for Tony to do something he didn't like because he came in RIGHT after tony poked Bruce so)

And i get why he would do that but bruh im pretty sure bruce is fine lmao plus he and tony seem to be getting along so far so idk why he thought "dear god the genius is gonna get us all killed with his reckless behavior!!" And went in to save the day lmao. Maybe I'm just being a bitch but if i were steve I'd see if there was a real problem first. And hulk is a scary concept I get it but steve literally said to Bruce that the only thing he cares about is the fact that he can find the tesseract ans yet every chance he gets he's like "careful guys we don't wanna set banner off now do we?" Like bruh if you were concerned about how much of a handle he has on hulk why didn't you just god damn say so instead of lying to this man's face 😔

What I got from the scenes between tony and bruce vs the scenes between steve in bruce is that Tony trusts that bruce could handle being on this mission while steve just...doesnt :/

So naturally Tony thinks something hinky is going on with shield and bruce fuckin agrees cos hell yeah Science Bros plus SHIELD is sus

And steve is like "don't go snooping this is why shield doesn't like you stark >:( now get back to finding that cube" and then he fucked off to literally do exactly what Tony was doing but without hacking.

Are you kidding me?? We always talk about how much of a hypocrite steve was in Ultron when he was mad at tony for keeping secrets and then keeping the Stark murder a secret but this man showed us who he was from the get go lmao

But then they find out *gasp* Tony was right! Big shocker there huh. And SHIELD is super sus and loki is like bruh y'all cant defeat me like this smh

And one of the most MIND BLOWING scenes in this film is where they're all arguing around the scepter, who's being a chaotic little bitch

Now keep in mind, the scepter was definitely influencing everyone but it didn't tell them WHAT to think or say lmao so i have to assume that to some extent they mean that shit

So I'm just supposed to be focusing on steve so sorry for going off topic but Fury turning the topic of the conversation to tony saying how he built his fortune off of weapons?? That shit was uncalled for like bruh...there was a whole movie about his character development and how he shut down his weapons bc he found out they were hurting innocents...

But anyways

Steve takes this opportunity to call tony out for being narcissistic. His evidence? I'll have to get back to you on that cos i have no fucking clue.

Here's the big argument where we get most of our good old anti-steve content tbh:

Steve says tony is nothing without the suit

Again: where is this man's evidence?? Why is he saying these mean things?? AND I KNOW IT'S COS OF THE SCEPTER BUT NO ONE ELSE WAS TALKING FOR THIS LONG OR ZEROING IN ON ONE PERSON SO STFU

He seems upset that tony actually answers his question like...you asked what i was without the suit? (The best part is that natasha did a little head nod, agreeing with tony calling himself "genius billionaire plybiy philanthropist")

says he knows guys worth ten of Tony without any of the stuff he listed

He just met Tony. They haven't even known each other a week and he's ready picking at his insecurities?? Crazy. Plus when steve says "I've seen the footage. The only person you fight for is yourself." Like ok there wasn't exactly a war for him to go and fight in but go off rogers. When was he supposed to fight for other ppl and what makes you say he didn't?? I'm so confused about the thought process here. And the footage he saw? What was it? Him saving people at the Expo? Him fighting terrorists? A sex tape of him that got leaked??

Says Tony wouldn't sacrifice for someone, wouldn't let some guy crawl over him while laying on a wire

Again how does he know that Tony WOULDN'T?? He's just saying random shit at this point and I just cant

And Tony again gives a smart remark because that's what he does plus it's funny

He said he would cut the wire, which is such a tony thing to say tbh. Like,,in Afghanistan they were like "build us weapons or die" basically and he said "I pick the third option" and got the hell outta dodge

And steve is upset by this answer as well! Another shocker. He says "always a way out" like lol why not? Why are you so pissed? What is the issue darling??

And Tony FINALLY stoops to Steve's level of throwing out insults and says "lmao like you?? Bruh your talents came from a science experiment. Your "heroism" came from a bottle you clown" (obv he didn't say it like that what I said was actually meaner tbh i just hate steve)

And the worst thing i think steve said in the entire film: "you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero"

I was just VIBRATING with anger at this I was LIVID. Tony has so many damn insecurities and this is not helping!! Like bruh wtf is Steve doing rn!! Everyone else stopped arguing at this point and is just LOOKING at steve basically tell Tony he's nothing special for no reason besides him not liking tony for reasons unexplained

And wanna know what Tony doesnt do? Listen to him. Im actually pretty sure he told him to fight him twice and tony doesn't get the suit either time lol

And steve has NO comeback for that so he just tells tony to straight up fight him lmao

Idk why I keep forgetting that Steve likes to resolve disagreements by fighting in alleys. So he's ready to post up as if tony is some jock who just wont leave this poor dame be and tiny asthmatic Stevie is the only one willing to stop him. Steve you are HUGE now and tony is just existing next to you and you're yelling at him for it. This scene makes steve look a lot less like a hero and a lot more like the bullies he so fervently advocates against ngl

And then steve grabs tony when shit starts to hit the fan bc "you cant go alone!!" Like bruh just follow him lmao why are you stopping him (just a personal pet peeve tbh not really a big deal i just didn't like it)

And I'll say this again: IK THE SCEPTER WAS MAKING EVERYONE ANGRY AND SHIT! I GET IT! But out of that whole mass argument Steve was the only person focusing on one individual and for such a long ass time too! Tony said one thing that was on the offence instead in defence of himself that whole time and I'm crying cos how tf does the impulsive asshole have more self control than the golden boy Captain America?? I'm at a loss here folks

The way i see it, Tony and Steve don't like each other. They rub each other the wrong way. But the reason i don't like Steve is that he has contempt for Tony right off the bat with no explanation? And meanwhile Tony's whole childhood was probably riddled with Captain America. He probably saw Steve every damn day, or heard his dad talk about him in a higher regard than his own son. So he probably had this ingrained jealousy of Steve from the start and he STILL managed to be as civil as he usually is. But Steve?? I can only fucking guess.

So yeah there's my rant sorry I've been doing so many of these recently I just had a lot of time on my hands and decided to watch some Marvel and get pissed about it lol

TL;DR: after watching Avengers again I realized that Steve has always been pretty shitty so his character development wasn't exactly a drop, more like a stagnant line that no one noticed because he was pretty okay in the Captain America movies

#anti steve rogers #his emotional state is just: i dont think but when i do i hate tony stark #tony's very existence offends him #and i could go on and on about how all the lther shut he said throughout the film because he said more shit that PISSED ME OFF but i'll sto #ik how annoying i am #i just think steve couldnt come up with a valid reason for disliking tony so he made some shit up about him not being a real hero #and had to eat his words when tony flew a damn nuke into space #in reality i think tony intimidates steve bc tony thought the fight with loki was suspiciously easy #and steve was like: he wasn't that easy to fight actually #idk why he even said that like who cares man it's not that big of a deal #Tony has a reason admittedly a bad one to straight up hate captain America: ✨daddy issues✨ #but Steve has had no interactions with Tony to explain this behavior 😭 #he knew exactly what he was doing when he called stark tower ugly too #it's not like he forgot who it belonged to it's in the name he just wanted to be mean 😂 #it's not a big deal for tony to have his name on the tower like...it's on brand STARK IS THE BRAND NAME MY GUY #stark industries ringing any bells?? #god the stupidity in this room 😌

[plus-size-reader]

Domestic

Natasha Romanoff x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2000 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Nat has a super cute wifey who likes to have mass dinners for all the avengers at their home

—————————————————————————————————

The arrangement that Clint had for Laura and the kids had worked for him.

By all accounts, most people didn’t even know that they existed, which in this life, certainly helped to keep them alive.

Having people that you loved made you vulnerable, and it also put all of their lives in danger. Clint knew that all too well, and made sure that no one would know who or where they were in order to protect them.

It was a good plan, a smart plan, and when you and Natasha got married, she wanted the same thing for you.

You were the love of her life, and one of the only people in the world she truly cared for. She had spent her entire life sure that she would never fall in love, or get too close to anyone, but you had easily broken down all those walls.

That made you more valuable than gold to her.

You were her everything, and if hiding you away was what she’d have to do to keep you safe, no one would need to know about you. It had been easy for Clint, and others like him, so there was no reason it couldn’t work for her too.

Fury understood that Natasha wasn’t taking this issue lightly, so he and Colson took special precautions to make sure that no one would ever be able to find you unless they had high enough clearance and couldn’t be registered as a threat.

After all, Nat had no shortage of enemies and getting ahold of you would be all they would be after.

You were valuable to them too, for a much different reason.

Getting to you would put Natasha in quite the predicament. Using you as leverage, there was virtually nothing they couldn’t find out, which meant it was in S.H.I.E.L.Ds best interest to keep you hidden too.

They had too many secrets to keep, and Natasha held the key to most of them.

So, she kept you hidden away.

It was safer for the two of you to just keep the love you shared under wraps and you didn’t mind that. You understood that there could be real danger if you weren’t careful.

It was just something you had to do if you wanted to be with her, and you certainly did. Quite frankly, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her, even if it meant uprooting your whole life and practically going into witness protection.

However, staying there forever wasn’t an option either.

As with all things, nothing could stay a secret forever. At some point, the secret was bound to get out to someone; though, it wasn’t as detrimental as you had always assumed it would be when it finally came to light.

The visitors you had were more than welcome.

The knock at your door wasn’t one you had been expecting, but when you opened it, you were anything but worried.

Standing there, entirely unannounced, was the woman you’d married and all of the avengers.

“What are you doing here?” you gasped, throwing your arms around her shoulders before she could so much as say hello. Technically, you weren’t supposed to be so open right away, but you didn’t care.

You hadn’t seen Natasha in months, and you weren’t sure you could hold back much longer with her right in front of you.

Living out here, while safe, was lonely.

Still, Natasha with as much as she missed you was paranoid by nature. Even this much, out in the open, made her nervous.

“Inside honey” she reminded gently, gingerly walking you back until you were safely within the confines of your home. It was only when the door was closed and locked with all of you inside that Nat visibly relaxed.

Understandably, she was uneasy about this whole thing.

Not only was she telling them all about you and the secret she’d been hiding for years at this point, but she was also gathering all the people she cared about in one place.

With a past like hers, it was a little stressful.

Though, she also found some amount of comfort in getting to see you again after all this time. The recent events had made it hard to sneak off and visit you without attracting suspicious or unwanted attention.

There was silence for a moment or two as the waiting crowd tried to figure out what was going on, or what about this place made it Natasha’s very important stop. She had been very clear that they couldn’t go anywhere until they came here.

There had to be a reason it was so important.

Natasha had never done anything like this before, and until this moment, they were sure that she didn’t have any personal connections to anything or anywhere. A woman like her, doing what she did, didn’t get that luxury.

...or, at least, they didn’t think so.

Almost immediately, of course, Tony connected the dots.

There was just something about the way she looked at you, and the way you looked back at her in turn, he’d seen it a million times before. He’d seen it in his own parents on the rare occasions they weren’t fighting.

You were in love.

The fact that he didn’t know you existed until today, or the fact that she’d hidden so much from him didn’t bother Tony in the least. In the lives they lived, everyone had their secrets, no one more so than Natasha.

If anything, he was glad she’d chosen to share with them now.

“This is your special lady, isn’t it?” he teased, doing his best not to be as awkward as he was sure it was coming across. Natasha was just so cagey about the things in her life, especially her love life, and this was news to him.

Good news, but news none-the-less.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say at first, taking your place at Natasha’s side. You knew who they were, of course, and you’d heard a lot about them but you had never had the privilege of meeting any of them before.

You didn’t get to meet many new people ever, for that matter. You were a little concerned that your people skills had gotten rusty.

It was impossible to know who was dangerous or not, and you didn’t want to risk running into the wrong kind. Being on high alert made it really hard to connect with people, even when you were sure they were safe.

It was new for you.

“This is my wife, Y/N” Natasha hummed, practically beaming as she finally said those words out loud. She had never had the privilege before, but this seemed like the perfect place to finally make it happen.

This was safe.

These people were safe, and even with as nervous as you were to be meeting them, you knew that Nat would never bring anyone even remotely dangerous to meet you.

The fact that she trusted them enough to bring them to your home meant that she trusted them, and if she trusted them, you could too. So, rather than hide behind your beautiful wife all night, you stood up a little straighter and decided to just give this thing a try.

“Hello, you must be the avengers” you tried, ignoring how strange the sentence sounded falling from your lips. It was hardly a normal thing to say, and hardly the most smooth delivery you’d ever given but it wasn’t the worst.

...And no one seemed too offended by it.

All in all, it was an okay icebreaker, and before too long, conversation was swelling all around you. You had gotten ready to start dinner when they arrived, so it seemed like the perfect thing to busy yourself with while they talked and checked out your home.

It was a cute little place, one Nat had practically fallen in love with, partially because of the close family floorplan and mostly because of the isolation.

The two of you sometimes talked about getting a bigger place, or moving somewhere far away from here, but for the pair of you, this house was just fine. It was decorated nicely, your way of having some agency over the situation you’d been put in with pictures and artwork everywhere.

“So, you’ve just been living here? Isn’t that a little difficult?” Steve asked, sitting down across from the island where you were stirring a bowl of what looked to be pasta salad.

This whole thing was blowing his mind.

In general, most everyone else had come to accept the arrangement you two shared as just part of being married to a spy but Captain America was less used to this whole thing, even now. The idea of hiding away your life partner was blowing his mind, even for safety's sake.

It seemed like it would be hard.

“It isn’t easy, but it’s just what we have to do. Nat’s made a lot of enemies over the years” you shrugged, doing your very best to explain the situation in the same way you did with everyone else.

It was just how it was.

You sometimes dreamed of what it would be like if you didn’t have to live like this. If you and Natasha could just go strolling down the street, hand in hand, without the fear of being kidnapped and tortured in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately though, that fear was justified. There were people everywhere who would have gladly gotten their hands on you, in this country, and all over the world.

“Well, you’ve got some allies in your corner now too” he smiled, finishing what was left of his glass of juice and then going to look through your wedding album with the others on the couch.

Clint had snatched it from the shelf as soon as he came in, after giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead as he always did, and insisted on showing it to the others. Your wedding pictures were some of his favorites, especially because he’d been the only other person in attendance to the event.

You hoped that for your sake, Steve was right. You had grown so accustomed to seeing everyone else in the world as a threat that it would be nice to know that you had some friends in this world as well.

“You forgot to stir the noodles, honey” Nat grinned, gliding past you to the stove where the pot was bubbling away. You had a habit of getting a little far off, especially in a kitchen setting, with a million thoughts swirling around in your head.

It was something you hated, but couldn't seem to get a handle on, but Natasha found it endearing.

It reminded her of the first time you’d offered to make her dinner and ended up burning most of the spaghetti to the bottom of the pan.

It reminded her of why she’d fallen in love with you in the first place.

~

Eventually, with the quick rescue of the spaghetti from Nat, dinner was ready which meant that your small, meant for two dining room, was full to the brim with assassins, super soldiers, and avengers of all varieties.

It wasn’t exactly how you saw tonight going, but as everyone crowded around the dining room table, you were anything but upset about that.

This was what you’d always wanted. A house full of guests, a warm dinner spread out over the entire table, and the love of your life at your side.

It was absolutely perfect.

You didn’t get to experience things like this very often, but you had a feeling that now that it had happened, this was going to be an ongoing occurrence for you and Natasha, who enjoyed these things much more than she’d ever admit.

After all, this group was her family, and it wasn’t going to kill her to be a little domestic from time to time.

#natasha romanoff #avengers #marvel #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x ps reader #natasha romanoff x plus size reader #natasha romanoff imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x ps reader #avengers x plus size reader #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x ps reader #marvel x plus size reader #marvel imagine #black widow x reader #black widow x ps reader #black widow x plus size reader #black widow imagine #femslash

[cherienymphe]

Stranger Beside Me (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of abortion, toxic relationships, domestic abuse, I don’t know if I’ve ever written anything this angsty in my life

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

Here is the long awaited boyfriend!Steve fic.

summary: you and Steve have the perfect relationship, and you want to keep it that way. It’s why he can never discover your secrets, but your secrets wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for his own.

~

The first time you got pregnant, you had never been more disappointed with yourself in your life. Not even failing a major class during college had made you feel as bad as you did when you were staring at that little plastic stick, trying and desperately failing to convince yourself that you were just seeing double. How could you be so careless? How crazy it was to think that a small insignificant piece of plastic could change your mood and life so drastically.

You had sat down on the toilet and remained there for hours. So many thoughts were swirling in your head, possibilities that you didn’t even want to entertain but you found yourself doing so anyway. Eventually, you came to a conclusion that was easy to say: you weren’t ready for a baby. Admitting and accepting that wasn’t hard at all. The hard part was the question that followed. 

What were you going to do about it?

You had struggled with that particular part for days, and you were grateful more than ever that Steve was on a mission. You knew what he would do if he found out, what he would say, and it was an argument you were unprepared to have. You weren’t ready to break his heart like that and face the possibility that this could be the end for you.

Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. You were Pepper’s stylist, hired for special events, and having been in town for a company party thrown by Tony Stark himself, that was where you met Steve. The attraction was mutual, but you were a woman of the world, constantly jetting off to whatever celebrity needed you at the moment. A stationary girl trying to have a relationship with a superhero would be hard enough, let alone one whose feet never remained on the ground.

And that was what you told the blond avenger after the second time he slept over at your place. The first time, a week after the party, was only meant to be a one time thing. At least, that was your impression, but Steve liked you, and no matter how much you pretended you didn’t, you liked him too. Before you knew it, you were leading him into your apartment for a second time, mouth starved and hands searching. 

He was the most attentive lover you’d ever been with, touching you like you were nothing less than fine china, desperate for the taste of you on his lips. He held you like he was afraid to break you, and considering that the man was a super soldier, you understood that, but still. His touch, combined with the way he looked at you, made you feel like you were literally the only woman in the whole world. It was intense.

“I know,” he had sighed, staring up at the ceiling as you looked at him. “You just...make me feel so comfortable.”

You had frowned, never considering that. After all, this was only the second time you’d slept together. 

“I do?”

He turned to look at you, a small smile on his pink lips, blue eyes sparkling.

“Of course.”

You rolled over onto your stomach, resting on your forearms as he continued, watching as he reached out to brush a finger over the skin of your back.

“You don’t look at me like a superhero, but instead just some guy who is really great in bed.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle, dropping your head, and he joined you.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s surprisingly refreshing. It makes me feel like I have room to...be less than perfect,” he murmured.

Your eyes met his then, and despite the words never escaping his lips, they were front and center in his eyes, and you sighed.

“We would never work, Steve,” you whispered, surprised at how disappointed you sounded. “You’re always off saving the world, and I’m always off dressing it.”

He didn’t respond right away, mulling over what you said.

“Maybe that’s exactly why it would work,” he said, surprising you.

You frowned a bit before raising an eyebrow at him, curious as to how he came to that conclusion.

“I’ve tried to date. God knows I’ve tried to find a girl who wants Steve Rogers and not just the face of America…”

Steve sounded sad, maybe even a bit bitter.

“...but nevermind the fact that they only see the suit and shield, they’re always left to their cozy lifestyle while I'm off saving the world. They’re always waiting around for me, eating dinners alone, sleeping alone. Having a superhero boyfriend is never what they think it will be, never worth it, and while the breakup is expected, I still feel bad.”

Your heart clenched, and you found yourself scooting closer to him. He wrapped his big arm around you, pulling you into his chest, and his whole face shifted. He smiled at you, eyes hopeful.

“...but you? You’re running around the world almost as much as I am. By the time you even have time to miss me, I’ll already be there, and if not…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t need to say it. Your lifestyle wasn’t exactly compatible with a relationship. At least, not a conventional one anyway. Spending nights alone was normal for you, and having a boyfriend that wasn’t there half the time would hardly impact your lifestyle. 

You slowly returned his smile.

“Okay, Rogers. Maybe this could work.”

And work it did. 2 years and 7 months later, and the two of you were happier than ever. Tony was surprised that Steve found a girl who stuck around, and Pepper was surprised that you’d found someone who convinced you to settle down. You simply told her that Steve had made a convincing argument, but the truth was that Steve was genuinely the perfect boyfriend. You two talked whenever you could, and he had been right. By the time you even had time to miss him, he was somehow always there, knocking on the door of your apartment, doing so until he upgraded to waltzing through the door of your shared apartment. 

Steve treated you like a queen, constantly making you question how you got so lucky. He always kissed you like it was going to be the last time, and he made love to you like he was personally trying to drive you crazy with pleasure. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You had even told him first, and he had been sad because he had wanted to tell you first for a long time, and that made you sad. So you let him tell you, and then you said it back, and he’d made love to you like he never had before, and it was there, coming undone in his arms, that you told him you loved him again and again and again.

That was why he couldn’t find out you were pregnant. It would start an argument that would ruin you, ruin everything. Steve was hardly home, and you were no different, and while it was never a problem before, it was no environment to raise a baby in. This was the truth. This made sense. Your doctor agreed, and while Steve was off saving the world on an early weekday morning, you were doing what you felt was right.

The 2nd time you got pregnant, you weren’t just disappointed at your carelessness again, but you were also angry. It was no secret that Steve wanted a baby, probably since the first moment he saw you. You always noticed the way he looked at families, the way he smiled and waved at awestruck children. The man had probably come out of the womb ready to be a father, and you loved that about him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want children too, you certainly did, but just not anytime soon.

You still had a thriving career, and so did he, and neither one of you seemed ready to give that up in the near future. A baby required sacrifice, and you weren’t ready for that yet, and if the way Steve readily took on missions was anything to by, neither was he. You knew that if he found out, he would fight to convince you to keep it, and you would fight to convince him that neither one of you were ready. Like before, you thought to yourself that it would start an argument that could very well be the end for you.

That was where the anger came in.

Why did you keep doing this? How did you keep doing this? Both of you had always been safe, never going without a condom, but after the first pregnancy, you had even gone on birth control too, paranoid and determined to be more responsible. Yet, here you were, pregnant again. You knew what this would do to your relationship, so how could you be so negligent again? It was as if you were subconsciously trying to ruin everything and you hated yourself for it.

Steve had not been away on a mission this time, and you immediately took all of the garbage out under the guise of cleaning the house. He seemed far more attentive that night than usual, but it could have just as easily been your own paranoia. His mouth covered yours in a heated kiss as he pressed his hips to yours, pulling a moan from you.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your mouth, pulling back before sliding into you again. 

Your legs were tight around his waist, and his hands were tight on yours. The only thing that filled the room was the sound of heavy moans and harsh breathing, occasionally interrupted by whatever Steve chose to say. It never not surprised you how much Steve enjoyed talking to you in bed. Praising you, degrading you, teasing you. He enjoyed making you squirm from more than just his cock.

“You know what would make you even more beautiful? Radiant?”

“What?” you breathed, hands running through his hair.

“A baby,” he mumbled, lips ghosting over your chin, making you freeze.

At first you thought that maybe he knew. Although there was no logical explanation for thinking that, you’d been very careful, you couldn’t help it. Your heart picked up the pace, but then you realized that Steve was just being Steve. He had mentioned children in passing, but it was done in the way that you mentioned children. Always in a future tense. It had never been like this, so straightforward and with a sense of urgency. 

He wanted a baby now.

“Come on,” you chuckled, trying to brush him off, attempting to press your lips against his.

He moved out of your reach, and you tried not to let it show how much you were bothered by this conversation. His blue eyes searched yours, a faint smile on his face as he hovered over you.

“I’m serious. Think about how beautiful you’d be, round and glowing with my child,” he continued, finally kissing you.

His hips snapped into yours, more force behind his thrusts, like the idea of you swollen with his child was the biggest turn on. You never even got a chance to truly voice your displeasure, a moaning and quivering mess until you finally came around him. Once your heart finally settled, you laid there, thinking about the fact that Steve wanted a baby now despite the fact that neither of your lifestyles could accommodate one. 

When he came back to bed after disposing of the condom, he pulled you into his arms, and you settled against him. He pressed his face into your hair, breathing you in, and you closed your eyes, feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world.

“I can’t wait til we never have to buy those again,” he whispered.

Your heart clenched, and you forced yourself to go to sleep by listing every reason you could think of as to why you were doing the right thing. A week later, Steve kissed you goodbye in the early hours of the morning before he had to leave on another mission. 2 hours later, you were in a doctor’s office doing what you felt was best.

The 3rd time you got pregnant, you were no longer disappointed. Not even angry, but just confused. You were leaning against the closed door of your bathroom, once again staring at that little piece of plastic with nothing but confusion. You were as careful as you could possibly be. After the 2nd pregnancy, you always triple checked to make sure that you never forgot your birth control. You made sure that the house was always stocked with condoms.

You didn’t understand it.

You had been startled by a knock on the door, and you hurriedly rushed to get rid of the test. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been in the bathroom, and Steve had started to get worried. At least, that was what he told you through the door.

“Are you okay?”

What a loaded question. Were you okay? Here you were, pregnant for the third time within a year and you couldn’t figure out how. Of course, it was obvious as to how, but it should have been very unlikely. You knew that condoms, even when paired with birth control, weren’t going to be 100% effective. You were an adult with common sense. That you understood. One unplanned pregnancy wasn’t the most ridiculous thing in the world. Shit happens.

Two within the same year still wasn’t absolutely crazy, but it was a little mind bending when you were more than careful.

But three? Three was concerning.

You opened the bathroom door with a soft smile, nodding at Steve as you stepped out.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He looked like he didn’t quite believe you, but being the great boyfriend that he was, he didn’t press you further.

“Okay. Breakfast is on the table. Come eat?” he offered, holding out his hand.

You took it and allowed him to lead you to the dining room. Breakfast was as it always was. Steve told you about the last mission he’d just gotten back from only days ago, and you told him about the latest celebrity going through a meltdown over a dress. You enjoyed these talks with Steve, these moments with just the two of you, and you weren’t ready to alter that in any way. Not yet. 

Sometimes you felt like the worst girlfriend in the world, wondering if you were being selfish for wanting it to remain just the two of you for a little while longer. You adored children, but having them wasn’t just some hobby. You would no longer be able to put yourself first, and with so much of your life still ahead of you, you weren’t ready to stop being selfish.

And that was okay.

What wasn’t okay was the lies. No matter how you tried to spin it, no matter how many justifications you made, you were lying to Steve. Perhaps in one of the worst ways possible. Sometimes you felt like you should tell him, but what purpose would it serve? Nothing could be done about the past, and he’d only end up hating you. That was what you were really afraid of. Having Steve stare at you like he didn’t even know who you were.

But you knew how Steve could be. How clouded his mind could get when it came to children and starting a family. The man enjoyed a simple life. He was nostalgic for what he felt he missed out on, and while there was nothing wrong with that, you knew that he wasn’t going to hang up the shield for it. Just like you weren’t going to put your career on pause for it, and you had no intentions of just letting some stranger raise your child. 

You knew that neither one of you were willing to sacrifice in order to raise a baby in the proper environment. That was why during breakfast, as you held Steve’s hand while you two talked and ate, you decided to go through with it for a third time.

The first time had been hard. You kept second guessing everything. You knew that it was the right thing to do, but was it the right thing to do without telling Steve? Without getting his input? Without even giving him the chance to love this baby before you snatched it away? Your body, your choice right? But was it really that black and white? Was any of this fair to him? 

The second time had been easier. You still hadn’t felt any better about it, but at least you weren’t going through an internal crisis. At least you knew what to expect, because that had been the most nerve wracking part, fear of the unknown. Afterwards, your mood wasn’t as sullen for as long as it was after the first time. You had moved past it fairly quickly, but after all, you had been sure it would be the final time. 

The third time wasn’t anything like that. The guilt still ate away at you, but it seemed more like a standard doctor’s visit. A routine checkup. That was what you told Steve it was. He had offered to take you, but you had declined, and he had sent you off with a lingering kiss. You went to get some coffee from Starbucks afterwards.

The months that followed were filled with the usual bliss that surrounded your relationship. You two went to Tony’s parties, occasionally hung out at the compound with the rest of the team, and Steve took you out whenever he was home. Despite your relationship ruining secrets, everything was perfect.

Almost.

“Everytime you come to one of my little soirees, I keep expecting to see you 4 months pregnant,” Tony said, making you bark a laugh.

Steve only chuckled, and you squeezed his hand, sending him a soft smile. The baby talk had increased as of late, but truthfully, it had been gradually increasing for pretty much a year. If it hadn’t been obvious before, it was now. Steve was ready to have children, and while it had been a topic that was only thrown into conversation here and there, you found yourself skimming over the subject at least once a week these days.

Surely you would get to a point where a serious discussion about it would be unavoidable. Steve loved you, and you were sure that you could talk him into waiting. After all, it wasn’t like you would be saying you never wanted kids. Just not now.

“I’m serious. All ‘Capsicle’ here talks about is kids. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the two of you had been trying for months,” the dark-haired man continued, taking a sip of his drink.

He was throwing his annual holiday party tonight, always placed in between Christmas and New Year’s, despite the fact that he threw parties on those days too. You just thought that Tony liked any excuse to party and drink.

“Sadly no,” Steve said, his tone surprising you. “We’re still just enjoying each other as much as we can. Right?”

He looked at you, and your smile faltered a bit, but you nodded. That was what you always told him whenever the topic came up. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Steve sounded bitter, upset even. You turned away from him, taking a sip of your champagne with a frown. You suddenly wondered if he knew, but that was easily dismissed. If Steve knew that you had secretly aborted 3 of his children, you’d be on the receiving end of more than just a strained smile and a passive aggressive tone. 

You worried that tonight would be the night where you’d have the big talk, where you’d have to come out and tell Steve to give you more time. It was wild to think that even though there was nothing wrong with waiting to have kids, you felt horrible about asking Steve to do so. Maybe it was because he’s so sweet? Or because he’s literally never asked you for anything else? Or maybe it was because you had deprived him of what he wanted three times over and the guilt was getting to you.

However, you weren’t able to do that. You hadn’t even realized that you had started to sway until the glass in your hand hit the floor, shattering upon impact. Steve had only a second to turn towards you before you were collapsing in his waiting arms. Against your will, you succumbed to darkness.

When you woke up, you were in the compound. You had been in the infirmary a handful of times so it was recognizable almost immediately. Nat was there when you woke up, and she sent you a small nervous smile.

“Well, hello sleepyhead. You gave us all quite the scare,” she murmured.

You hummed, briefly shutting your eyes as you pressed your hand to your head.

“Sorry. What...what happened?”

“You fainted,” she said, handing you the glass of water that was beside the bed.

You gratefully took it, gulping it down, surprised at how thirsty you were. You thanked her when you handed it back to her and was just about to ask her where Steve was when he strode through the door. His lips were pressed together, and you worried that he’d worried about you, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him, and you frowned.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nat said before making to leave. “Take care of her, Steve.”

He was at your side just as the door shut behind her, and your frown deepened when a blinding smile spread over his lips. You were confused as he took your hand, keeping his lips there as he kissed it.

“Steve…?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting down next to you on the bed, facing you as he held your hand. 

The other reached out to brush over your cheek and across your jaw. Despite your confusion, you placed your hand on his, blinking at him, a bit unnerved by the look in his eye. 

You hadn’t seen that look since before you two officially became a couple.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Everything is more than okay.”

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, soft and loving, and you kissed him back. When he pulled away, he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen, like you’d break with one touch.

“You’re pregnant,” he told you.

Your lips parted as his words washed over you, and you struggled to find something to say.

“...what?”

He repeated it with a smile, kissing you again before pulling you into a hug, one you did not return. Everything after that was a blur. Tony came in to make sure everything was fine. Dr. Cho said you were 4 weeks along is what he told you. He’d offered his congratulations, Steve took you home and wasted no time before wrapping his arms around you.

His touch was gentle throughout the night, but it lingered as if he never wanted to stop touching you. You don’t know how many times he made you come around him, but Steve didn’t seem to care about your exhaustion. With his lips constantly attached to your skin, he only cared about getting drunk off the taste of you. You let him have you as much as he wanted. You let him rejoice in this, because it was the least you could do before you broke his heart. 

He was awake in the morning before you, and the smell of breakfast cooking made your stomach growl. Gratefully, you didn’t seem to have any morning sickness, but your stomach still twisted from something entirely different as you made your way to the kitchen. Steve looked like anyone’s dream as he stood there in a fitted t-shirt and pajamas, pushing food onto a plate for you.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

He looked up and approached you with a smile, pressing a kiss to your lips as he returned your greeting.

“Go sit down. I’ll bring you your food,” he told you.

Reluctantly, you did so. You were quiet as he joined you, and you started nibbling on your food.

“Sweetheart,” he scolded at the action. “You’re eating for two now. You need to eat all of it.”

He was right, and under different circumstances you would do as he encouraged, but there was no point in putting this off.

“Steve, I don’t want to have this baby.”

You hadn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but there was no easy way to say it. There was no sense in hesitating. Steve froze almost immediately, and you reluctantly met his eyes as he stared at you. He rested his forearms on the table, a small frown on his face. He looked equal parts floored and confused and hurt, and you sighed.

“...what?”

“We’re not ready,” you whispered.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“Of course, we are,” he argued.

“So you’re ready to give up being Captain America?” you asked him.

He hesitated, and you nodded.

“...exactly. You’re not, and that’s okay, and I would never ask you to, but that’s what's going to be required if we’re going to start a family now. You like doing what you do, and I like doing what I do. Neither one of us are ready to put a stop to any of it, at least not for the time being.”

“To be fair, I save lives. There will always be some Hollywood starlet who needs a dress or the latest shoes,” he replied.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, looking at him like he’d slapped you.

He suddenly huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he eventually said. “I’m just saying that putting that on hold for a few years will hardly impact you. You can always pick it up again like you never left.”

“And why am I the one who has to sacrifice, Steve? You aren’t the only superhero-!”

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” he cut you off as your voice started to rise, reaching for your hand.

He brushed his thumb along the back in what was meant to be a soothing getsure, but you were still a bit heated at the way he’d diminished your career. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… I know that it’s going to be difficult-.”

“It’s going to be more than difficult. We’re talking about a baby! Both of us need to be here,” you told him.

He heaved a sigh, staring at you.

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to have a baby right now. Maybe in a few years, sure, but neither one of us are willing to sacrifice.”

You watched as his jaw ticked, eyes narrowing just a bit as he considered your words.

“So what does that mean?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned back, avoiding his eye.

“Y/N?”

“Steve-.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

You flinched, not used to Steve cursing, and you knew that he was angry. This very conversation was what you had tried so hard to prevent, and once again, you were cursing yourself for your negligence. How on earth did you manage to get pregnant again?

You stood from the table, trying to put off this fight for five more minutes, the same fight you’d been trying to prevent for a year. You and Steve hardly ever fought, but when you did, it was for the silliest of things. Things you’d both look back on and laugh at.

Not this.

You heard Steve follow you, and his grip on your wrist was hard as he pulled you to a halt. You spun around to face him like he’d lost his mind. You tried to get out of his hold, but he wasn’t budging. He knew what you were implying, what you planned to do, and he was angrier than you’d ever seen him.

“This is my decision,” you quietly told him, making his eyes darken. “You don’t have to agree with it, you don’t even have to like it, but you can’t make me go through with this pregnancy. Neither one of us are ready.”

“So I get no say?”

He tilted his head at you, and you blinked away tears.

“I don’t want this right now, Steve. I don’t, and I’m not going to change my mind, so what do you suggest we do?”

His face softened a bit, and he stepped closer.

“Let’s give it a try. Don’t put your career on hold, okay? We’ll try to make it work-.”

He cut himself off as you started to shake your head.

“No. I’m not going to take a gamble with our child’s livelihood. There should be no ‘trying to make it work’. When you bring a baby into this world, everyone involved should be 100% on board. Things need to start moving into place to accommodate that child. This is not how it should be.”

Steve swallowed, nostrils flaring as you argued, and you sighed again. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with tension and anger and an impending sense of doom. You loved Steve, but not enough to force yourself into having a baby for him. Your chest ached, and you wanted to cry.

“If...if this means that you don’t want to be with me anymore, then I understand, but… I’m not having this baby.”

He let you go, crossing his arms over his chest, and you stood there, waiting for the verdict. His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, jaw moving as he grinded his teeth.

“We’re not breaking up.”

He continued before you could feel an ounce of relief.

“...and you’re not getting rid of my child.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing another sigh as you rubbed your forehead.

“Steve-.”

“Do you hear me? You are not getting rid of my child,” he spat.

He stepped closer, and you found yourself narrowing your eyes at him.

“I went through a great deal of trouble to make sure you got pregnant in the first place, and you think I’m just going to let you get rid of it? Let all of it be in vain?”

His words sucked the air out of you, and your eyes widened as the gravity of them fully hit you. Your mouth parted, but no words came out because what could you say? You couldn’t even describe the shock and horror and disgust that tore through you in that moment, and you slowly took a step back from him.

You raised your hands in front of you as your mind whirled, eyes focused on the floor as you blinked. His confession finally put things into perspective. His words put the pieces together, and your breathing grew shallow as you processed the truth.

“I knew it.”

Your words were barely a whisper, but Steve heard you nonetheless, and you took another step back when he walked towards you.

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” you quietly chanted to yourself.

That was the only thing running through your mind. Had your love for Steve allowed you to ignore what was right in front of you? You were diligent with your contraceptive, so so many pregnancies in such a short time had never made sense. You kept blaming yourself despite what was so obvious. Sure, Steve was family obsessed, but you had never considered the possibility. Or did you simply never want to?

You looked up at him like he was a stranger, vision blurry from your tears, and you shook your head.

“I knew it,” you cried. “I fucking knew it.”

Steve’s eyes were narrowed, and his head was cocked to the side, something in his eyes that scared you. 

“I kept wondering and wondering how it kept happening. How did I keep getting pregnant? It made no sense,” you said, more to yourself than him. “...and everytime...I felt bad. I felt like such a horrible girlfriend, and the whole time…”

You yelped when Steve’s hand made its way to your neck, pushing your back into the wall. His blue eyes were dark and venomous, a thunderous look on his beautiful face.

“You killed them?”

You didn’t respond, opting instead for fighting against him, but he wouldn’t move.

“I knew you should’ve been pregnant a long time ago. I made sure of it! And here I was thinking I did something wrong, that I messed up-.”

“Get off of me!”

You didn’t want to hear anything else about his fucked up plan, about how long he’d been doing this. You wanted him off of you and away from you. He pulled you away from the wall before slamming you back against it, making you gasp. You reached up to his chest and neck, desperately trying to get him off, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“Steve,” you begged.

“You don’t know how badly I want to hurt you right now for what you did,” he sneered.

Your heart sank, and you thought to yourself that his lack of self awareness was astounding. How long had Steve been this way? Had he always been like this? How was it possible that you didn’t know your boyfriend at all?

“...but I’m sure that I can look past your betrayal when you are swollen and glowing with my child. That will make it all worth it.”

He kissed you, hard, and you screamed into his mouth. His hands pushed at the t-shirt you were wearing, his shirt, and your hands pushed at him. He lifted you until your thighs were on either side of his hips, and the sound of your hands hitting his skin filled the room. The food was barely thought about as he pressed your back to the table, pinning you down.

You were more terrified than you were five minutes ago, knowing what was about to happen no matter how much you wished you were wrong. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, your boyfriend, was about to rape you and force you to keep his baby. It was a sentence you had the hardest time accepting, and all of your overwhelming emotions spilled over, turning you into a sobbing mess.

Did you really miss this, or was he just so good at hiding who he truly was? 

Your hits were doing nothing as he reached between you, struggling to release himself with all of your movement. His free hand grabbed both of yours, holding them to your stomach just as he pushed into you. You threw your head back and cried, wondering how you got here. To think, you had thought that you were so lucky. You had thought that you were a terrible girlfriend for what you had been doing. Life was funny that way.

Your body had grown to crave Steve’s. He’d learned how to condition you so well that your core immediately started to clench around him with every thrust. You hated it, and you turned your head away, not wanting to witness him taint something that had never been anything but loving for you. His lips were on your jaw, searching for yours, and you tried to push against his hand.

With his other hand now free, he used them both to pin yours down beside you, lips finally finding yours despite your evident protest. You kept turning your head away, and he kept following. He tasted the inside of your mouth, hips pressing into yours over and over. The table beneath you shook from the force, and your stomach clenched with the pleasure that he was forcing onto you.

How did he do it? Clearly he’d poked a hole in every condom, but you knew it required more than that. Had he replaced your birth control with placebos? Had he acted alone? Tony had just about everything known to man at his disposal. Had he been in on it too?

“You’re going to look so beautiful,” he whispered into your mouth.

Another sob hit you, and you shook.

“You’re going to be absolutely radiant, and you’ll be just as beautiful when you walk down the aisle.”

You gasped at this, increasing your struggle, but he simply pulled your wrists away from the table before slamming them down. You winced in pain, and he hummed.

“...and I’ll fill you up again and again and again.”

You kicked your legs around him, body trembling as hysterical sobs left you, shuddering with every thrust into your dripping core. A particularly hard thrust pushed you over the edge, and the way you fluttered around him triggered his own climax. He came inside of you with a groan, wrapping his arms around you, preventing you from fighting back at all as he pinned your arms to your side.

His cock was still hard and still inside of you, his lips pressing kisses to your face. You felt like you were in a bad dream, and you wanted to wake up so badly. His lips traveled to your ear, brushing along the skin, and a shudder passed through you.

“Everyone will know that I tamed you, that I broke you until you were mine in every way.”

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​ @harryspet​​​​ @readermia​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​ @trinittyy​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​ @kellyn1604​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​ @mandiiblanche​​ @gotnofucks​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​ @doozywoozy​​ @sapphirescrolls​​ @threeminutesoflife​​ @searchforanotherway​​ @mcudarklibrary​ @ksjksjkv​

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Dark Fic

[hangovercurse]

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

@bakerkells​ @elviablo​​ @iambashfulperson​ @sunflowerbebe107​ @crystalbaby12​ @stormrider505​ @ticketstomydaydreams​ @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​​ @pettyvxbes​ @prettydreamboy​

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff

[in-a-cave-with]

i do not fucking believe cantwell when he says that he likes tony stark because the whole entire narrative he's written into his goddamn comic reeks of an iron man hater who spends their time going "but he's a billionaire so why does he not simply fix the world's problems! he is so egotistical and needs to be put in check". like between the fact that he "invests in big pharma" or gets offended seeing graffiti saying eat the rich or acts like he's a god above all those Lowly Civilians that he has to save. like there is no humanity to it. patsy says to god tony that "omg tony we just want you back" but WHO is the "you" she wants back. because the closest characterization of tony stark in previous comics to this run is in superior iron man where tony had his ENTIRE PERSONALITY INVERTED AND BECAME EVERY SINGLE THING THAT HE WASN'T. like what the hell is this what the HELL IS THIS . this whole thing very much reeks of "white man who just learned what progressivism is trying to prove that he knows that oppression exists and thus he will write iron man (rich white man!) like he's actively evil and needs all his Minority Friends to keep him in check". i hate it here SO BAD

#wednesday spoilers #if this is incoherent i do not care. fuck this run i mean it w my heart

[kawaiijohn]

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently.  “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha.  You've never said that to me before.”  The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual.  Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least.  “Seriously, though.  It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!"  He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically.  "But... it's kinda, y'know.  Personal-”  Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course.  Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that).  A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking.  An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye.  With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains.  They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake.  To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions.  After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity?  Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward.  They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best.  Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him.  Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought.  Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue.  It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!”  He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?”  They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny.  They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now).  They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation.  It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response.  Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away.  “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!!  Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!”  He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions.  Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways.  And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after.  Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always.  Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ .  And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were.  There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed.  Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line.  They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse.  “Shit!  I mean... uh crap??"   They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present.  "Never mind just... sorry for asking...  Oh man!  Did I offend you somehow?  Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!”  They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core.  “We can just forget about it if-”  Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development.  Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did).  Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder.  “It is more than fine, Daniel.  You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.”  They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were.  I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment."  Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors.  "Come along- it’s best we sit for this.  I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms.  “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.”  They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time.  They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed.  Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry.  The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.”  Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme.  Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile.  “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz!  Unfair!!”  His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues.  “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this?  Well, there’s the universe right?  Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends?  But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought.  Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige.  They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all.  The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call.  Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’  The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought.  “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish.  “I got it!!  The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept?  Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’”  Danny nods to himself.  "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely.  Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah!  We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams?  The Void or something, maybe?  And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-”  Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization.  “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did.  Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.”  Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground.  “Now then.  We have drinks.  We are sitting comfortably.  I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.”  They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute.  It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life.  They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night.  Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm.  Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive.  Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt.  “Wait wait- this realm?  Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now???  Are you messing with me?  Like… I thought it was all just-”  The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone.  Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered?  Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet?  The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin.  Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts???  He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly.  One you asked I tell you…”  Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story.  Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists?  Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?”  He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head.  White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders.   Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward.  “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.”  Another sip.  Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always.  They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously.   ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you?  Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning??  Could I shoot lightning if I tried?  Like were you some sorta time wizard?  Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?”  Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age.  He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid.  “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story.  The choice is yours, Daniel.”  They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short.  The best answer.  “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue.  “Now- to answer your last question… Yes.  You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that.  Other players, situations, and pure circumstances.  The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.”  Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul.  “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response.  “Wait... me?  Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know??  Can that even happen???”  Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself.  The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache.  “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that.  You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.”  They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?”  Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers.  The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently.  After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again.  “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once.  It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter.  “Did you just use sarcasm???  Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!”  The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows.  After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes.  “But no.  Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.”  Clockwork waves their hand.  The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes.  They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender.  The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story.  “Do you understand what’s being seen?”  The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two.  Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 127

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,080ish

Summary: Tony and Y/N run into an old friend and meet two of the Children of Thanos.

Previous in Out Of Time:

“Tony—“

“I know, getting ahead of myself again. You know what there should be no more surprises. Let’s have a nice dinner tonight and we should have no more surprises. I should promise you.”

“Actually, Tony, I really need to talk to you about something. I made—“

“Tony Stark,” a man with a red cloak appeared a few feet away. There was an orange portal behind him. “Y/N Rogers, I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. And I need you both to come with me.”

The necklace around the man’s neck immediately caught Y/N’s eye as Tony moved to stand protectively in front of her. It was the same necklace that the Ancient One wore, it housed the Time Stone.

“I’m sorry, what are you doing here?” Tony asked. “You giving out tickets or something?”

“We need your help,” Dr. Strange responded, glancing at Y/N, which made Tony tense. “Look, it’s not overselling to say that the fate of the universe is at stake.”

“No,” Y/N gasped softly.

“And who’s ‘we’?” Tony questioned.

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce Banner greeted, nervously emerging from behind Dr. Strange.

“Bruce?”

“Y/N.”

“Hi,” she responded quietly.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

Bruce came up to Tony, giving him a desperate hug, not answering the question. Dr. Strange was focused on Y/N. Slowly, she walked up to him.

“It’s time,” he told her.

“I know,” she responded quietly.

Tony guided Bruce over and through the portal, grabbing Y/N’s hand as he passed. Dr. Strange was the last one through, closing the portal after them. Another man, Wong, was waiting in the building on the other side of the portal. Tony sat down while Y/N stayed standing, nervously biting at her nail. Bruce told them of what had happened to him and why he was back. Wong used his magic to show the universe and five of the six Infinity Stones.

"From the dawn of the universe, there was nothing,” Wong began, “Then, boom! The Big Bang sent six elemental crystals, hurtling across the virgin universe. These Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence.”

“Space. Reality,” Strange named the Stones, each one lighting up as he did. “Power. Soul. Mind. And,” he opened his necklace, “Time.”

“Tell me his name again,” Tony ordered, very attentive.

“Thanos. He’s a plague, Tony,” Bruce answered. “He invades planets. He takes what he wants. He wipes out half the population. He sent Loki. The attack on New York. That’s him.”

Tony stood up and looked at Y/N. It was obvious that Y/N knew about the Infinity Stones. Honestly, he wasn’t all that surprised but he was a little hurt. Things were falling into place now, the headaches, the connection with the Tesseract, her powers. She was connected to all six Stones.

“This is it…” He said quietly to her. She nodded. He turned to face the other men. “What’s our timeline?”

“No telling,” Bruce replied. “He has the Power and Space Stones, that already makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe. If he gets his hands, on all six Stones, Tony—“

“He can destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of,” Dr. Strange interrupted.

Tony leaned against the cauldron near the stairs, stretching like he was about to go for a run. “Did you seriously just say ‘hitherto undreamt of’?”

“Are you seriously leaning on the Cauldron of the Cosmos?”

“Is that what this is…?” 

The cloak on Dr. Strange’s back suddenly smacked Tony’s arm, surprising him and Y/N. Tony looked at the thing, slightly offended before straightening himself up. 

“I’m going to allow that,” Tony continued. “If Thanos needs all six, why don’t we just stick this one down the garbage disposal?”

“That’s not how it works, Tony,” Y/N sighed.

“No can do,” Strange said.

“We swore an oath to protect the Time Stone,” Wong added. “With our lives.”

“And I swore off dairy, but then, Ben and Jerry’s named a flavor after me, so…”

“Stark Raving Hazelnuts,” Strange stated.

“It’s not bad.”

“A bit chalky.”

“A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge is our favorite,” Wong said.

“That’s a thing?” Bruce questioned.

“Whatever,” Tony said. “Point is: things change.”

“Our oath to protect the Time Stone cannot change,” Strange said. “This Stone, and Y/N, may be the best chance we have against Thanos.”

“Y/N?” Bruce repeated. “Why Y/N?”

“My… My abilities,” she nervously answered. “They’re from the Stones. I can control them.”

“Not gonna happen,” Tony quickly stated. “That Stone needs to go because it may also be his best chance against us.”

“Well, if we don’t do our jobs,” Strange said.

“What is your job exactly, besides making balloon animals?”

“Protecting your reality, douchebag.”

“Okay, guys, could we table this discussion right now?” Bruce requested. “The fact is that we have this Stone. We know where it is. Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind Stone, and we have to find him now.”

“Yeah, that’s the… thing,” Tony muttered, awkwardly.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.

“Two weeks ago, Vision turned off his transponder. His offline.”

“What?” Bruce exclaimed. “Tony, you lost another super bot?”

“I didn’t lose him. He’s more than that. He’s evolving.”

“He’s with Wanda,” Y/N whispered. “They’ve been sneaking around like we have, haven’t they?”

“That’s been my guess.”

“Who could find Vision, then?” Dr. Strange asked.

“Shit,” Tony quietly muttered to himself. He looked around at the others. “Probably Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, great,” Strange sighed in exasperation.

“Maybe. But…” Tony sighed.

Looking over at Y/N, he was met with her scared gaze. Everything was going to suddenly change, he knew it. It just hoped this didn’t change where they stood.

“Call him,” Bruce pressed.

“It’s not that easy Bruce,” Y/N responded. “Things happened. Technically, it’s illegal for me to be here right now. Everyone in this room should be calling the police.”

“The Avengers broke up,” Tony clarified. “We’re toast.”

“Broke up?” Bruce repeated. “Like a band? Like The Beatles?”

“Cap and I feel out hard. We’re not on speaking terms.”

“Then Y/N. Call your brother.”

“I have no way to get a hold of him,” she shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to him in two years.”

“Tony, Y/N, listen to me. Thor’s gone. Thanos is coming. It doesn’t matter who you’re talking to or not.”

“I know what’s at stake here, Bruce… I’ve known for a while now.”

Y/N could feel everyone’s gazes on her. Bruce was questioning what she meant, but the others knew and they looked at her with pity. With a sigh, Tony pulled out a flip phone. The one Steve had mailed him. He flipped it open, hovering over the call button to the only number on the phone.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked. Tony met her gaze and went to explain, but it was too late. She already knew. “He sent that to you,” a statement, not a question. “You've been able to contact him the whole time…. Have you ever…?”

“No,” Tony shook his head. “I almost did once. When I found you at the cemetery that first time. But then—“

“The Soul Stone took me. And you were worried… don’t worry. I don’t blame you.” She let out a shaky breath as she walked over and grabbed Tony’s free hand. “Call him.”

Looking back down at the phone, Tony hovered his thumb over the call button once again. Y/N gave his hand a slight squeeze as she watched. But before he could press call, an unusual rumbling could be heard from outside. Tony looked up and around, noticing that something was off.

“Say, Doc, you wouldn’t happen to be moving your hair, would you?” Tony wondered, pointing the phone at Strange, whose hair was slightly moving.

Strange looked up. “Not at the moment, no,” Strange answered.

Looking up through the whole in the ceiling, Tony and Y/N saw debris flying by outside. All of them looked towards the doors, able to see things flying by and people running. 

“I’m not ready,” Y/N whispered. “I-I can’t…” Her heart was pounding. “I… I can’t—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” Tony was in front of her, hands rubbing her shoulders. “No one’s asking you to do anything right now. We don’t know what’s going on out there.”

“I won’t be able to save them all…” She shook her head, tearing up. “I already know that… And I’m not ready for that…”

“But you don’t know that, Y/N. We don’t know what’s out there or what’s about to happen. But we will do our best to figure it out and prevent what’s coming. Together, alright?” Y/N nodded. “Alright.” Tony ran a hand down her arm and intertwined his fingers with her. “Let’s go see what we’re up against.”

Holding hands, Tony and Y/N walked up to the front doors, glancing back at the men behind them before going through them. Outside was chaotic. People running and screaming in alarm, traffic tangled, a litter-filled wind. As the two make their way towards where people are running from, a woman fell at Tony’s feet. He quickly helped her up.

“You okay?” He asked, concerned.

Ignoring him, she quickly keeps running. A car suddenly crashed into a pole behind Tony and Y/N. They flinch, turning to see a man inside.

“Help him!” Tony shouted. “Wong, Doc.”

“Go! Got it!” Bruce replied, rushing to the car.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, Tony retrieved a pair of sunglasses. He put them on, keeping him and Y/N going towards the issue.

“FRIDAY, what am I looking at?” He asked his AI.

“Not sure,” FRIDAY responded. “I’m working on it.”

“Hey! You might wanna put that Time Stone in your back pocket, Doc!”

Dr. Strange moved his arms, golden bands appearing around his forearms. “Might want use it,” he responded.

“Don’t leave my side,” Tony told Y/N.

“Okay,” she replied with a nod.

Approaching an intersection, the two turned the corner together. Floating over the street, was a huge circular ship.

“FRIDAY, evac anyone south of 43rd Street,” Tony directed. “Notify first responders.”

“Will do,” the AI replied.

From behind them, a large gust of wind came, clearing the dust and debris from the air. Both Y/N and Tony turned to see Dr. Strange behind them. He threw a wink at Tony. For a split second, Tony is begrudgingly amused. Close together, they walk closer to the ship, stopping when two beings appear in front of them.

“Hear me, and rejoice,” the skinny one exclaimed. “You are about to die at the hands of the Children of Thanos. Be thankful, that your meaningless lives are now contributing to—“

“I’m sorry,” Tony interrupted, folding his arms over his chest as he stepped up, “Earth is closed today. You better pack it up and get outta here.”

“Stonekeeper,” the alien called, looking at Strange, “does this chattering animal speak for you?”

“Certainly not. I speak from myself,” Strange responded. Magical shields are readied at his fists as he stepped forward, Wong emulating him. “But you’re trespassing in this city and on this planet.”

“It means get lost, Squidward!” Tony shouted.

“He exhausts me,” the skinny being commented to its larger, bulkier being. “Bring me the Stone.”

The larger being dropped its huge hammer, dragging it along as it obeyed the ordered. From slightly behind Tony, Y/N’s hands began to glow purple.

“Banner you want a piece?” Tony asked.

“No, not really,” Bruce responded. “But when do I ever get what I want?”

“That’s right.”

Channeling his anger, Bruce attempted to release the Hulk. But instead of Hulk coming out easily, green shows up on Bruce’s neck and then quickly disappeared.

“Been a while,” Tony continued. “Good to have you, buddy.”

“I just... I need to concentrate here for one second,” Bruce said. “Come on, come on, man.”

“Where’s your guy?”

“I don't know. We've sorta been havin' a thing.”

“There’s no time for a thing.”

“I know.”

Tony pointed forward and the approaching being. “That’s the thing right there. Let’s go.”

Bruce gave out a loud grunt, but still failed to release the Hulk. Dr. Strange stared at Tony and Bruce in disbelief, while Y/N slowly had her powers snake their way to the two beings.

“Dude,” Tony muttered to Bruce, “you’re embarrassing me in front of the wizards.”

“Tony, I’m sorry,” Bruce apologized. “Either I can’t or he won’t—“

“It’s okay. Hey,” Tony set his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, “stand down.” He turned to Wong, guiding Bruce back. “Keep an eye on him. Thank you.”

“I have him,” Wong replied with a nod.

“Damn it,” Bruce murmured. 

Tony then noticed Y/N’s hands. “No,” he quickly said, rushing in front of her. “You need to save your strength.”

“If I can stop them, I want to before it’s too late,” Y/N retorted.

“Really no time for this,” Strange cut in.

Tony turned to see the being coming closer. Stepping up, Tony taps his new arc reactor, revealing his nanotech Iron Man suit that quickly forms to him. He forms a shield on one arm, protecting him from a hit from the being. Then Tony forms a set of blasters that easily throw the being back to the skinny one, who gestured and deflected his massive companion into some cars.

“Where’d that come from?” Bruce wondered, in awe.

“It’s nano-tech,” Tony responded, turning around. “You like it? A little someth—“

Suddenly, a spike of earth shot up and threw Iron Man far up. Using uprooted trees and other debris, the skinny being began attacking the rest of them. But before the attack can even do anything to the small team, Y/N steps forward motioning her hands in front of her and dissolving all the objects in one swift movement.

“Interesting,” the skinny one observed. “You are a strong one. I sense a great power in you.”

“And I sense a great deal of annoyance,” Y/N responded.

“Dr. Banner,” Dr. Strange said as Y/N and the being were having a stand off, “if the rest of your green friend won’t be joining us…”

Strange teleported Bruce away, along with half a taxi. Iron Man then returned to the fight, pushing a car thrown by the skinny being back at it. The car get cuts in half, and the being was untouched. Y/N put her hands in front of her, blasting the being with a purple beam. It flew back, crashing into the building behind it.

“Gotta get that Stone out of here, now,” Tony ordered, blocking a blast meant for Y/N.

“It stays with me,” Strange responded.

“Exactly. Bye. Y/N, get out of here!”

“No way in hell!” Y/N replied as Tony flew through the forming obstacle course.

As Tony made his way through, Y/N began to destroy the obstacles in his way. Before he could get to the end of the course, Tony was cut short my the big guy’s hammer, sending him through a building at high speed.

“Tony!” Y/N screamed. 

Her emotional scream caused power to be released from her whole body, destroying everything the alien had put in their way. She was panting and angry when the dust settled again.

“Well, well,” the alien chuckled, “I guess I was right.”

“Leave here,” Y/N demanded. “Before I end you.”

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

“Y/N, go!” Strange ordered, him and Wong being to fight off the being.

“What?!” She exclaimed, helping them. “You know what I’m capable of, what I’m meant to do. Why order me away?”

“Just listen to me!”

“Not without the Stone! You and I both know that I can protect it better than you!”

“And why is that?” The being asked, having heard the conversation while using the surroundings to attack.

He shot bricks turned into sharp points at them. Channeling the Time Stone, Y/N turned back time so that the bricks were dust. The Time Stone glowed in the necklace and Y/N’s hands were glowing green.

“Impossible,” the being whispered. “You… You’re channeling the Stones.”

Y/N blasted him with a powerful beam, sending the alien back and scraping agains the road. It stood back up, cuts littering its body. Angry, the aline used a broke fire hydrant’s water steam to knock Wong back several meters, rending him unconscious. Dr. Strange then snaps a whip of magical energy to bind the alien’s hands and yanked. The alien flew forward with the pull and pins Strange upside-down against a building, using the bricks to trap him.

“Get to Stark!” Y/N heard Dr. Strange say in his head. “Listen to me! Get to Stark! Now!”

Y/N hesitated slightly before deciding to not listen to Strange and attack the skinny alien from behind. The bricks continued to pile on Strange as the skinny alien turned around to face Y/N. Debris began flying at Y/N in all directions. Using her powers, Y/N blocked them, set them away, and dusted them. But she couldn’t see everything that was coming. From behind, the alien launched at car at her. It hit her, hard, shooting her forward and skidding her across the road, knocking her out. The alien turned its attention back to Strange.

“Your powers are quaint,” it taunted. “Especially compared to the girl over there. You must be popular with children.”

The alien reached out and tried to grab the necklace holding the Time Stone. It quickly jerked back when the necklace burnt its hand.

“It’s a simple spell but quite unbreakable,” Strange stated.

“Then I’ll take it off your corpse.”

The alien pulled Strange away from the building and threw him to the ground. Strange began to gesture to use the Time Stone, but utility cables pin down his arms, wind around his torso, then tighten around his throat.

“You’ll find… removing a dead man’s spell… troublesome…” Strange choked out.

“You’ll only wish you were dead.”

Knocking out Strange, the alien raised a portion of street pavement to use as a carrier. With a smirk, went over to Y/N.

“Thanos will be eager to meet you,” it said, using its powers to pick her up and tie her next to Strange. “Or kill you. Guess we’ll just have to see.”

next chapter >

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