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#tony is obliging about this
everything-withered · 3 days ago
WIP Game: Shifter au?♡
Survival has always been something he was good at, after all. And while sticking around in Wakanda would've guranteed a certain amount of comfort, Bucky also knew his presence there was dangerous. The thought that he could lead what reminds of Hydra to the Wakandans' doorstep after they'd helped him made Bucky feel phyically ill, and next to arming himself once more in preparation for another kind of war, Bucky wouldn't stand for it.
Which meant considering the alternatives.
Which meant disappearing.
And what better way than by shifting for the first time in a century, and staying that way?
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purebarnes · 3 days ago
courage to change—
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲— taken place six months after endgame, y/n stark gets a call from none other than sam wilson— being confused on why he had called her. wanting to go after a new villain. she was obligated at first but knew it was her friend that needed help. she never thought she would go back into become a hero after her loss.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭— 2.1k
𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬— fluff all around. nothing extreme.
𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬!— this is my first time writing on tumblr so if it’s bad then sorry!! i enjoyed writing this so if you do like it then please let me know.
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months have passed without tony stark, everything became quiet, a loss is a loss with whatever you’re dealing with. this was more than a loss for y/n— especially pepper and morgan. they all thought that they would be a big, happy family but tragically that never was the case. thanos ruined everything for the girl and she lost her best friend and mother to people just like thanos. she told herself she would get back and start saving because no one saved her dad, sometimes it would bring nightmares to her.
she had to deal with everything and be with her family which more important, she didn’t talk or call anyone. there would be nights where she would cry herself to sleep with tony’s sweatshirt that she loved. the scent was still there and she never wanted to let it go because it was a part of her that wasn’t lost. morgan was always smiling for her half sister, it was like just yesterday was when the world went back together but she knew she just wanted to think about it like that. days would go by where she wouldn’t return peter’s phone calls and it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to. she knew her dad was an important figure to the boy— she thought she would break down in front of him.
helping around the house was essentially the part where she needed to help pepper. happy would stop by and occasionally drop off the cheeseburgers that both of the girls loved. it was those moments and little things that made her feel so much better. it didn’t help when the one person she cared about as much as her dad wouldn’t do anything to help her when she was in complete pain. bucky barnes was the man for her and she was there for him when he was struggling and when he wouldn’t talk to her after the funeral: he felt awful but that wouldn’t change anything at all.
the relationship started out fine and all though tony wasn’t pleased and supportive about the thing they had for each other. he would never tell her to break up with him or even if they weren’t— he wouldn’t try to break them off. he loved him for that, all the problems they had with his parents getting killed by the winter soldier. nothing mattered anymore, she threw that relationship out slowly but also painfully. she loved him and he loved her but they both weren’t mentally stable to be each other at that moment.
pacing around her room to calm herself from finding herself to have a panic attack, she hears her phone buzzing and looked up and walks over to see what it was about. she saw the name ‘sam <3’ she couldn’t help but smile at the contact, she’ll be honest it had been awhile but that didn’t matter at that moment. she took a deep breath and opened up the message.
sam <3: hey y/n... it’s been awhile and i should have asked you how you have been instead of now. i thought we could catch up, it’s just i wanted to see if you could help with something? think of it as a last mission type of thing, let me know. hope you are well
y/n knew sam meant well and maybe this could help her with everything that she was going through. this also meant she could suffer but she rather help another friend that needed something. she agreed to help him and visit him in louisiana. she typed back saying that she would be in town in a day or so.
y/n stark ♡: of course i will come by! just give me a day or so, so i can get things ready to pack... you still have your boat? would love to see it!!
they talked nonstop about everything until she had to remind herself to tell pepper and to go and pack her things. she went into the kitchen where morgan was watching tv and eating a turkey sandwich that her mom prepared for her. pepper looked up, “hi, honey. you want a sandwich... turkey or roast beef?” she asked smiling, already pulling out the whole wheat bread. y/n smiled telling her she wanted one, “actually pepper... sam asked if i could go up to louisiana? he wanted to catch up and his family will be— of course you can go. we will be okay, just call me every night alright?” she went over to hug her step daughter. morgan saw them hugging and she couldn’t help but go and hug both of them.
later on the night, y/n had packed her suitcase with clothes and essentials she needed for her trip. she saw the glasses that tony had saved and left for her in any case of a tragic accident— she sighed grabbing them and placing them in her suitcase. she watched morgan and pepper at the porch entrance waving bye to her, happy had grabbed her bag and placed it in the back trunk of the limo. she thanked him and entered the limo while happy got in the other side of the limo. “how are you doing kiddo?” she looked up from her phone and stifled a small smile, “alright. just hoping this trip is going to be ok.”
they both focused on their phones and on the ride while they saw the entrance to the wilson family seafood. y/n saw sam and his sister talking as they all looked at the limo that stopped in front of them. the girl gave a right hug to happy when he told her to be safe and also to have fun— he gave her the suitcase before leaving. she saw sam and couldn’t help but smile widely and went to walk towards him. they were engulfed in a hug with warmth surround them, “ah, sam. i missed you.” she told him rubbing her hand on his backside. they both let go to meet each other in the eyes, “i missed you. came see sarah.”
sam and sarah were obviously close, sarah saw y/n and was putting down the crates her children helped her with. she went to go hug her and all this was something that she never got back because just isolated herself, “so sarah wants to sell our boat— whoa, you’re getting rid of this bad boy.” y/n spoke turning around to see the boat in her two eyes. sarah gave the girl a chuckle while continuing to leave into the boy where sam and y/n followed her on it. “sam, the boats gotta go—wait.” sam tried to intervene his sister but she wasn’t having it with him, “no. let me finish. i’m doin' everything i can to keep this business afloat. and everyday i’m making $5, and spending $10.” sarah told her brother.
“so, why won’t you let me help?—no, don’t start with that. we made a deal before daddy died. you’re out there—” y/n froze when sarah mentioned her fathers death and each time it kept eating y/n alive. she would do anything to make that feeling just leave for a small portion of the time. sam noticed she wasn’t present and sighed when she saw y/n, “y/n... i’m sorry.” sarah apologized and y/n told her it was fine and that it wasn’t her fault at all. she kept hearing on the conversation, “i do things my way her—right. but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans.” sarah punched her brother in the chest graining at the impact it made on him, “forgot how hard you hit, uh, y/n wait up here and then we can catch up. i will be back.” sam told her making y/n nod and chuckle, “don’t take too long.”
sam finished talking to his sister and once he came back—they went on side to have a drink and have a small conversation. sam poured her some non alcoholic drink as she didn’t drink that often, “so tell me. what have you been up to.” he asked the girl slouching on a chair and she took a sip, “if you know me sam, you would know nothing.” she told him looking down at her drink and in circles, “don’t torture yourself stark. i’m here now.” same went to give her a soft hug and she returned the hug smiling at him. “have you talked—no.” y/n told him since she didn’t want to talk about it or bucky as it brought memories.
sam asked if y/n could watch his nephews while he and sarah would go to the bank to ask for a loan, she didn’t hesitate to help him out. y/n woke up early and saw sam and sarah with her two children packing up the food they were going to give out. she walked over “morin'.” she spoke yawing while sam looked up to see her in a black t-shirt and shook his at her semi-messy hair, “morning y/n. you sleep good?” sarah asked packing up food, “honestly, yeah you guys have nice cushions.” she said honestly. “you always gotta do the most, huh?” she said asked.
“i don’t play with these white folks.” sam chuckled before continuing, “look, i know you’re worried, all right? but i did the research. i ran the numbers—you really think this is gonna work?” she said skeptical about it all and if sams plan would work, “I know it will. and then we can renovate the kitchen. now, you said you wanted to sell plates in the weekends, right? that’s great. you can introduce some of grandma’s recently... shit. we gotta go.” sam looked at his watch and noticed the time and that he would be late but he was rather punctual. y/n furrowed her eyebrows as he wouldn’t be late, “you know me, no such thing as on time. you’re either early or late. pick one.” he told the girls, both of the siblings went to go get their jackets on. “all right, boys, i love you. now, y/n will be watching you and no video games.” sarah said kissing her sons on the forehead and looked at y/n to know that she would be helping her a lot.
once the wilson’s came back, y/n was hanging out with boys because she soon fell in love with both of them. being around the two boys made her feel special because it was something she walkways wanted. y/n was watching them play video games and she just admired them until sam came in to ask to steal her. “can you come here quick.” she nodded and walked over to sam and entered to the room where sam was in and he was explaining the video. it was the flag smashers—he didn’t look too nice. he saw the video of one of the flag smashers throwing a man acros towards the pole. “he looks strong—who are you?” they got interrupted as y/n scrunched her nose and surprised he didn’t know her.
“y/n. y/n stark—oh. oh, uh i am so sorry for your loss.” the man rambled while y/n laughed saying thank you and he kept going, “he was. i mean, they went dark as soon as it was all over. but that their m.o. we gotta keep our eyes and ears to the ground till they pop up again.” the man on the call told them. the young lady sighed not understanding how that could all be possible, “anything else happen outside the video?—no, man. my face was in the dirt before i knew what was happening. why? what are you thinking?” sam turned to y/n and they shared a look of unsteadiness, they both knew what they were both thinking. if something was out there then they needed to stop it, “nothin'—wait. you don’t think he could be a... look, i’ll circle back to you. let’s keep this between me and you.”
a second later sarah came into the room turning on the television and telling both of them to look at was on the news. it appeared to be a press and y/n did think about it as anything until she heard what the man was saying. “unrest, in the wake of recent events has left us vulnerable. every day Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. we need a real person who embodies america’s greatest values. we need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. so, on behalf of the department of defense and our commander-in-chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the united states of america has a new hero. join me in welcoming your new captain america.” the man spoke and there was a man in a captain america uniform with steve’s shield over his arm. y/n rubbed her temples while sighing knowing this wasn’t good.
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shewhobreathesfire · 3 days ago
This is literally just me being sad. If you don’t want to read about me being sad, I put this read more, so you don’t have to. No one should feel obligated to read this, or comfort me or anything. It’s ok for you to scroll. Have a wonderful day! I just needed to write about it on the internet and I don’t expect anything from anyone.
Today is the worst day I’ve had in months. Nothing really happened, it was just me realizing, that everything I’ve been feeling and everything I’ve been stressed about wasn’t because of the present. It was because of the past. I had what I can only describe as a lowkey mental breakdown. I hadn’t considered, that what happened to me in the past, would be coming back like a fucking boomerang. Well, at least not like this.
I all realized this while watching a youtube video on Iron Man. Specifically Psychology of a Hero: TONY STARK by Cinema Therapy. It’s a good video, I recommend it. For me, I had to pauze it and have said breakdown. It was when they were talking about what PTSD is. Now, I don’t have PTSD, but I very much related to the line. “PTSD occurs when you think your world is safe and then you realize that it’s not.” For me it suddenly made sense. I’ve been sleeping really bad lately (even with sleeping pills I wake up in the middle of the night, confused and scared.), I’m emotional, I am anxious all the time and have all the symptoms of being very stressed. It didn’t make sense as to why, though. nothing stressful in my life is going on atm, but that line resonated with me.
I realized very early on that my world wasn’t safe, and semi-recent events only seemed to be the nail in the coffin. I’m experiencing stress because of what happened in the past, and I haven’t been dealing with it properly.
I don’t know what to do. I’m confused and tired and even though I’m in the process of getting help, and literally having someone I can call on days like this and moment like that 24/7, I dare not to. I’m so scared of anyone seeing or hearing me like this and listening to what I have to say, and then they tell me I’m wrong, I’m overreacting and that this is not as bad as I make it out to me, and they are probably right! I am dramatic and overly sensitive. It’s probably me and this probably doesn’t make sense. and still I feel this way. I am so torn. I am so tired. I want nothing more than to just, take like 10 sleeping pills and sleep forever. because I’m that exhausted.
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boxofbonesfic · 6 days ago
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Title: Cocoa
Rating: Explicit
Summary: His Omega smells like chocolate; rich, heady, enticing.
Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader
Warnings: Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Possessive Behavior
Word count: 7,106
A/N: I posted this on A03 months ago, but since I’m new here, I figure I might as well 😅. This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! Enjoy 😘
The first time he smells it, Steve’s eyes roll back to half mast, and he can’t help but tilt his head up just a little to take it in. Heady, warm—like chocolate. Tony watches him with an amused expression on his face—maybe he can smell it too; after all, It’s steeped in the air so thick Steve can almost see it. 
 “Mr. Rogers? Can you follow me please?” She’s tiny—a foot shorter than him at the very least. Her tone is authoritative, and though he chafes a little at being ordered about by so tiny an Omega, his amusement outweighs the indignation. 
 The exam room is stark white, and though he can see the S.H.I.E.L.D designated doctors and nurses bustling around just beyond the privacy screen around them, it doesn’t bother him. He inhales again, drawing that rich, creamy scent into his nostrils, his pupils dilating .  
 He watches her get everything ready; needles, test tubes, a thin rubber tourniquet. “I’m just going to check your vitals before we start, is that alright?” Her voice was soft, melodic. Soothing. 
 “Of course, doll.” He grins as her throat moves almost imperceptibly, swallowing at his words. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing.” Her russet cheeks color as she swipes nervously at a lock of hair that has escaped her tight bun, an action Steve immediately recognizes as a nervous gesture. He flashes her a winning smile, and she fumbles her stethoscope a little as she lifts it to her ears. He turns so his back is facing her, and after a moment he feels butterfly-light touches against his skin as she slides his shirt up.
 “This might be cold.” 
 It is, when she presses the end of the tool against his warm flesh, but he doesn’t mind. It’s tempered with the pleasant weight of her hand holding it down, and the other gripping his shoulder to straighten his posture. “Deep breath, please?” She asks, and he obliges. He feels her lightly trace the outline of an old scar on his shoulder—given to him before the serum. Then, a sharp intake of breath as she backs away from him, her voice tight. 
 “Okay, all done. You can turn around now.” He turns to find her face still red, her eyes not meeting his. He wants to smirk knowingly at the Omega—he can scent her confused little spike of arousal from here—but he only looks at her calmly, the smile playing at the edges of his handsome mouth. 
“The doctor will be right in to see you,” She says before fleeing the room, leaving only that delicious scent behind. 
 Next time, Steve goes down to the labs of his own accord. His results are exemplary, of course—he can’t get sick, can’t get hurt, he doesn’t even know why Fury insists on keeping tabs on them like animals, but he pushes the thought out of his head upon entering the reception area. He doesn’t smell her today—not the same way as last time. He can scent that heady, chocolate smell in the air, but it’s light. 
 The receptionist leans forward, confusion on her face. “Mr. Rogers? I don’t remember having an appointment for you today.”
 He sniffs the air one more time disappointedly—she isn’t here. “No, I don’t have an appointment.” 
 She raises an eyebrow before tapping one manicured nail against the desk. “How can we help you?” 
 He leaves without saying anything, making his way to the elevator. 
 It’s a month later when he finally scents her again. He’s in the training rooms, and the scent hits him like a fucking train—or maybe that was Bucky’s fist, slamming into the side of his face as he paused, sucking air greedily into his lungs as he smelled her for the first time in weeks. 
 It takes a few minutes for Steve’s jaw to knit back together from the hit, but he’s already out of the gym and padding down the hallway on the bare soles of his feet as Bucky calls his name uselessly. His little Omega was back in the building, and he wasn’t going to squander the opportunity. 
 It isn’t hard to find her, he follows the scent down to the locker rooms, just across the hallway from the labs. I didn’t know the nurses changed down here. He rarely uses them himself, preferring to shower and change at home. He inhales again— fuck it’s strong.
 “Yeah, probably drinks or something. I don’t know if I’ll make it, I’m kind of tired.” Her voice comes around the corner just before she does, her caramel colored curls loose around her face. She’s not in uniform today, plain black leggings adorning her shapely legs, and a loose, off shoulder t-shirt hanging from her shoulders. She sweeps her kinky hair out of her face, eyes widening as she sees him. “Oh.” 
 Steve feels bristling irritation that that is all she has to say to him, but he swallows it. Her companions are tittering behind their hands as they watch the interaction, but Steve ignores them. Her cheeks color as she stares down at the floor shyly, her little pink tongue darting out to wet her plump lips. “H-hi. Sorry, we’ll get out of your way…” He grasps her wrist gently, and her scent explodes around him. It’s all he can do not to just push her head to the side and sink his teeth into her soft skin—but he resists, somehow. 
 “No need.” He says smoothly, enjoying the little nervous glances she shoots her friends. “We’re all coworkers sharing this space together, after all.” The words are meant to soothe her, and they do. Steve sees her visibly relax, shoulders dropping as she releases a breath. He wonders how many Alphas have cornered her like this, and the thought makes his lip curl with disgust. Clearly they haven’t been successful—there are no bite marks at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, no scent of a male anywhere on her, which Steve is grateful for. 
 It would be a pity to have to kill her mate. 
 He releases her and steps aside with a flourish. “After you.” She laughs, a smile working its way onto her pretty mouth. 
 “Well I’ll see you around, Mr. Rogers.” 
 “Steve, please.” The way her eyes widen, and her hands grip the strap of her bag a little tighter sends blood racing straight to his cock. 
 “Okay, Steve.” 
 He knows her schedule now. 
 Steve waits for her to arrive promptly at 8:15–she always does. His little Omega is nothing but punctual. She works the first two weeks of every month, all morning shifts. It isn’t hard for him to work out—and it helps that the employee rotation schedule is in the first drawer of the reception desk. 
 Her car, a small, old model Toyota, pulls into the lot on the compound right on schedule, and Steve waits until she is walking up the stairs, phone in hand, before positioning himself just in front of her. 
 She bumps into him, spilling coffee all over the two of them. 
 “Shit! Oh, Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry,” She exclaims, shoving her phone into the pocket of her nurses uniform. “I’m such an idiot, I didn’t even see you,” she laments, and Steve nods understandingly, patting her shoulder. 
 “It’s okay, doll. Happens to the best of us.” He helps her pick up her papers and bag, before tossing the empty coffee cup into the trash can by the entrance. She looks down at herself, her clothing so soaked through that Steve can see the lacy outline of her bra. His nostrils flare, fists clenching at his sides. 
 “I’m going to be late,” She laments, glancing at her watch. “I’m so sorry about...all this.” She gestures between them apologetically. Steve smiles winningly at her. 
 “It’s really no trouble.” He leans against the door frame, gazing down at her. “But you know… I do take dates as compensation.” She laughs a little, playing with a loose strand of her hair. She’s nervous. She had no idea how adorable it was when she did that, nibbling on her lower lip as she averted her gaze. Her rich, sweet scent turns only a little sour at his question, tinged with her anxiety. 
 “I’m so sorry Mr— Steve ,” she corrects herself, taking a deep breath. “I just… I don’t date my coworkers.” She herself looks a little disappointed, but that doesn’t soothe the sting of her rejection. Steve fights to keep his expression neutral—happy—but inside, he’s fuming. Who does she think she is?
 He laughs, though all he wants is to take her right there and show her and everyone watching, exactly who she belongs to—but he simply smiles kindly down at her, nodding. “Of course, I’m sorry. That was unprofessional.” His apology seems to put her at ease, and she sighs with relief. 
 “Thanks for understanding. I’m going to go try and find a spare uniform, I think.” She waves goodbye, and he watches her go, eyes narrowed. It’s only later, after he has had time to restructure his short term plan into something a little longer, that Steve forgives her. 
 He can’t blame his Omega for her dating preferences—after all, there were plenty of other unmated Alphas running around the building; it wouldn’t do for her to entertain them. That night, Steve waits for everyone to leave before he sneaks back into the building. It isn’t hard, he has all the access codes, and the night guards are all friends of his. He makes his way to the locker rooms, as though he’d come back for a late night workout. 
 When the guards head back upstairs, Steve walks down the long hallway to the laboratory. The waiting room is dark, but Steve picks his way around the chairs quietly, before seating himself at the desk. 
 It’s not hard to find her information, stored alphabetically under her name.
 He grinned upon seeing her address. A Brooklyn girl—of course she was. His chest swelled a little with pride as he scanned the paper.
 “I’ll be seeing you real soon, doll.” He murmurs, slipping the file back into the cabinet. 
 She’s surprised when he comes into the lab again, waiting for her in the exam room when she pulls back the privacy curtain. 
 “Hey, you.” 
 Her shapely eyebrows rise up in shock before she smiles. “Hello, Steve. How can I help?” Steve smiles kind of wanly at her, before leaning onto the table. He makes sure to stoop his shoulders, cross his arms. She eyes him with concern, and he sighs before speaking. 
 “I’m just having some trouble sleeping.” He says, shrugging. “I was hoping maybe you all could help me with that.” Mostly you. It wasn’t all a lie—he hadn’t been sleeping. Mainly because he’d been beating his dick raw thinking about her, in an effort not to go straight to her apartment and sink in slow and deep. 
 Steve was also banking on her having little to no knowledge of how the serum worked, and he could tell by the clear concern on her pretty face that his assumption was true. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she patted his knee reassuringly.
 “I know how that feels, I get insomnia a lot.” She replies, and Steve nods. Of course she does—insomnia is a common heat symptom. “I’ll go grab Doctor Thompson, one sec—” Steve catches her hand as she turns to leave, grasping it gently. 
 “Well, what do you think I should do?” He asks, cocking his head. He doesn’t want to let go of her, her skin feels so soft, so smooth under his fingers, but he forces himself to, sticking his hands in his pockets. She looks surprised again, her full lips parting slightly. 
 “M-me? Well… You, well I guess you could try melatonin. T-they make gummies, um… I can bring you a bottle from Costco…” She was rambling now, wringing her hands adorably as she thought. Fuck he wanted her. He inhaled deeply, allowing her to keep talking so he could scent her again. 
 “That’s much better than a prescription, I think. And I like gummies, that helps too,” Steve says, laughing. She looks relieved, genuinely glad to have offered him a solution he likes—even if nothing is really wrong. “Bring some for me tomorrow?” He asks, and she nods eagerly. 
 Breaking into her apartment is disgustingly easy—so much so that Steve worries for her safety. He’s been watching the house for weeks now, and he knows not only her schedule, but her roommates too, and it isn’t hard to sneak around drunk people, after all. 
 Her apartment is practically soaked with her scent, oozing up out of the furniture, the carpets—if Steve could get drunk, it would have felt something like this. He wrinkles his nose in distaste as the loud sound of her roommates fucking reaches his ears, immediately followed by a shameful burst of jealousy. He wants to be deep inside his Omega too, wants to hear her crying and begging as he sinks in balls deep. Steve quashes the jealousy with the notion that he’ll know soon enough. 
 He’s hard before he finds his way into her room, his cock pushing hard against his jeans. He cups it, groaning silently as he enters her room. If the apartment was dripping with her scent, it was nothing compared to her bedroom, where it was like a fine layer coating every single thing. 
 She moans softly in her sleep, shifting. She smells him, probably. His scent is familiar now, not enough to wake her, but enough for her to take notice of his presence, even asleep.
  His beautiful little Omega, spread out before him like a four course meal—Steve wants nothing more than to partake in her, trap her on his knot and make sure she’s bred right— but he doesn’t. He watches her sleep, and palms himself through his jeans while he imagines how tight she’ll be on his cock, imagines how she’ll look all swollen up with his seed and wants to bust right there. 
 He waits for her to wake up before he makes his exit. She doesn’t notice him through the crack in her closet door as she clamors out of bed clumsily, stretching and yawning. His eyes rake over her form, greedily dissecting and storing every detail for later examination. She has a tiny starburst tattoo on her left hip, and a mole on the inside of her right knee, he can see those as she stretches. 
 The tiny shorts she’s wearing barely cover the plump swell of her ass, and Steve feels his mouth water as she makes her way out of the bedroom, likely to the bathroom. He waits until he hears water running to ease the door open. He stops on his way out of her bedroom window, spying the hamper in the corner of the room. 
 He opens it, and moans audibly as her scent washes over him. He digs through the hamper, and the instant his hand closes around the scrap of fabric, he knows what it is. 
 When she comes back into the room, she finds her window wide open, and hamper spilled over onto the floor. He watches her from the adjacent building’s fire escape, watching as first she runs to the window, looking out and around wildly. She doesn’t see him as she slams it shut, her eyes wide and panicked. 
 Later, when Steve hears her walking out of the locker room, she is nervously telling her friends about a possible break in. Steve forces concern onto his face, and steps out of the training room in time to hear her recount the story. 
 “I mean… it’s definitely possible. I just… I never leave my window open that wide, you know? And then the front door was unlocked too…”
 “Someone break into your place?” He asks, and she looks up at him anxiety and fear souring her sweet scent. She looks so worried, and her lips press together into a thin line. 
 “Maybe? I dunno. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.” 
 He puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “It’s not silly to be safe.” He says seriously, and she looks relieved. 
 “Yeah, you should change your locks!” One of her friends pipes up, and though Steve considers moving to silence her, he tempers the urge. He can use this. 
 “I’m not handy, you know that,” She says mournfully. “And the landlord will take weeks to get to it, I know he will.” 
 “Hey, I can change your locks.” Steve volunteers himself quickly. He’s never felt so greedy before, he doesn’t want to share her at all, any part of her. Not her affection, attention, her time—he wants it all for himself. And as she stares up at him gratefully and her sweet mouth moves to speak her gratitude, Steve smiles back. 
 It costs almost nothing to copy keys.
 Steve brings the drink to his lips, but he isn’t tasting it. He isn’t sure which one of her friends invited her out this evening, but he wants to find them and end them. When she’s his, Steve decides, she will only be allowed to wear that dress when he’s with her—and when she’s wearing his mark on that slender throat, so there’s no question of her ownership. 
 He narrows his eyes at the scene before him, gripping the glass so tight it shatters. He ignores the bartender as he rushes over.
 “Are you okay? Sir? Sir?” Steve is too busy watching her dance to answer. His wounds close up in seconds, his body pushing the rogue shards of glass out and into his palm. He empties his palm onto the bar, mouth curling into an angry sneer as another man brings her a drink. 
 Thus far, she’s only been dancing with her girlfriends, and even that makes him jealous, but it’s acceptable. This, however… Steve watches as the man brushes his fingers along the back of her hand, and she giggles, taking a long sip of her drink. Steve clenches his jaw so hard he thinks he can hear the bones creak. 
 He can’t remember being this angry at someone who wasn’t trying to kill him, he feels like he’s going to break the bar he’s grabbing it so hard. She looks beautiful tonight, her hair in a curly halo around her head, and her face done up with makeup. She doesn’t normally wear it—she doesn’t need it—but Steve grudgingly admits it looks good on her tonight, bright gold eyeshadow against her lids, and her lashes long and embellished. 
 She finishes her drink, draining the glass and dabs at her lips with a finger to catch any stray liquid. The man leans in to say something, and she nods, laughing. Steve’s blood is boiling—it’s like he’s watching her piss their future away, one fucking drink at a time. He circles her waist with one arm, and Steve loses it, pushing his stool away from the counter with a sharp squeak. The music is loud and blaring in his ears as he pushes his way through the crowded dance floor. 
 A young man backs into him, but Steve pushes him off singlemindedly, focused on reaching her. He couldn’t see any of her other friends anymore, just her and him. Steve stands off to the side, just close enough to hear their conversation. 
 “You want another drink?” He asks, yelling to be heard over the music. She shrugs. 
 “Probably not, I have to get up tomorrow,” she yells back. The other Alpha laughs. 
 “Come on, just one more! Then we’ll get out of here, I’ll take you home, okay?” 
 His beautiful, trusting Omega looks conflicted for a moment before agreeing. He can see the thought patterns crossing her face—she’s already had more drinks than Steve thought was appropriate, and by the look on her face she knew it too. But she nods anyway, and he sets off to the bar. Steve watches her check her phone, her face lit up by the bright screen. He waits one more moment before following the man back to the bar. 
 “Gin and tonic.”
 Steve settles against the bar next to him. 
 “You with her?” He asks, nodding towards his Omega. The other Alpha chuckles. 
 “With her? Nah. I mean, maybe later, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows at Steve, who is barely restraining the urge to wrap his hands around the other man’s throat and squeeze until he stopped struggling. “Cute little unmated thing like that should be walking around with an escort.” The other man’s hand passes over the glass meant for his Omega, and Steve almost doesn’t see the fine powder settle onto the surface of the drink before dissolving quickly. 
 Steve feels the cheap plywood of the bar top splinter in his hand. “You have a smoke?” He asks, and the other man nods. When Steve comes back in from the alleyway, stale cigarette smoke on his breath, the other Alpha does not return with him. Steve wipes his bloody knuckles on his jeans as he walks towards her, holding a fresh glass of water. 
 “Hi, doll.” 
 “Steve?!” She whirls around at the sound of his voice, a little unsteady on her high heels. She takes a step back, shocked. “What are you doing here?” She looks around, confused. He tries to put her at ease with a smile, but it only barely works as she eyes him warily, albeit drunkenly. 
 “I come here all the time.” He didn’t. 
 “R-really? I never thought this was your kinda place…” She slurs. “Where’s Sean?” 
 “He won’t be joining us, doll.” Steve says tightly. “I brought this for you.” He hands her the drink, and she sips it warily. She’s drunk enough not to question him too much, but she knows something isn’t right. She looks surprised at the water, but when she tries to put it down, Steve shakes his head and tips the glass back up to her lips, forcing her to finish the whole thing. 
 “Sean’s gone.” She repeats his words like she’s tasting them in her own mouth, trying to see if they’re true or not, but her brain can’t quite arrive at a conclusion she’s satisfied with. She looks a little disappointed, too, and Steve wishes he could go outside and drive his fist into Sean’s face three or four more times until his head is nothing more than a red smear behind the dumpster—but he doesn’t. “I… I’m confused,” she admits, putting the glass on a table nearby. She wobbles a little and Steve steadies her. 
 “I know, baby. Do you know what was in your drink?” He asks, cupping her chin in one large hand. Her wide eyed gaze is intoxicating, as she stares up at him, pupils dilated. She shakes her head. “Sean gave you mickies, babe.” Sean is alive—unconcious, but breathing, a situation Steve plans to remedy after he’s possessed the little Omega before him. 
 “He drugged you sweetheart.” 
 He can tell the young Alpha already dosed her once, her scent carries a strange taint, and he growls, pulling her close and burying his nose at her throat. “Oh baby. He got you good.” She whimpers, and he can feel hot tears soaking through his shirt. Her scent is saturating the air around them, and Steve is panting, trying hard not to just take her into the bathroom and fuck her there.
 “I wanna go home.” She murmurs, and he hears it over the music. 
 “Let’s go.” He never wanted her in that club to begin with, and so Steve can’t help but feel righteous triumph as he helps her to his car. Her eyes are bleary, and she can’t stop giggling at every little thing. He can barely get her to keep her jacket on, she’s so feverish. “Stay here, doll.” He says, strapping her into the passenger seat. She leans back against it, eyes sliding almost closed. 
 What Steve really wants is to back his car over the unconcious body of the Alpha he’s hidden behind the dumpster, but instead he walks back into the club, stopping when he sees the bouncer. 
 “There’s a man behind the building, in the parking lot. He’s been drugging girls here.” He says matter of factly. The bouncer raises an eyebrow. “Call the cops.” Steve leaves, not stopping when the man tries to ask his name. When they get back to her apartment, she’s too gone to notice that he unlocks her door without her help, and leads her straight to her bedroom, asking no questions. 
 He deposits her wriggling form onto her own bed, chuckling when she squeals in surprise. She noisily kicks off her heels before flopping onto her stomach, groaning. Steve’s breath catches in her throat as she reaches behind herself, trying to unzip her dress. It’s like she’s forgotten he’s even there, and Steve wonders just how far he can go—what she’ll remember in the morning. 
 “Help.” She says, rising up onto her knees, facing away from him. Don’t. She’s drunk, and she’s high and she can’t possibly know just how much she’s testing him, sweeping her mountain of curls aside to expose the back of her neck to him, motioning at the zipper. 
 His hands move without his permission, caressing her smooth shoulders and tugging the zipper down slowly, revealing inch after precious inch of her luscious skin. Steve wants to mark it so badly—not just her throat, her whole body, pepper her in bruises and bite marks so that she can’t hide she’s his, ever. He groans, tracing his fingertips along the line of exposed flesh. She’s so fucking soft . 
 “Thank you,” She says sheepishly, but when she tries to turn, he holds her in place, his breath puffing against her neck. 
 “I’m not finished, Omega.” Her skin is hot under his lips as he laves his tongue across it, tasting her. He wants to drag his teeth down the skin and split it, but he doesn’t, simply sucking hard, hard enough to bruise. She moans softly, and Steve feels his cock throb, pressing insistently against the seam of his jeans. He parts the fabric of her dress, pushing it almost off her shoulders. He sneers. “No bra, of course.” She whimpers as he drags his nails down her back. 
 “I can’t wear one with this dress,” She says confusedly, her drug and alcohol addled brain struggling to keep up. “It shows in the front.” Her voice is almost childlike in its innocence. 
 “All dressed up like a whore,” he breathes. His tone is gentle, and his soft touches don’t waver, but she flinches all the same, skin flushing with embarrassment. At the same time, her scent swells around him, and he grins against her. 
 “Don’t call me that!” 
 “No bra.” He pulls the loose fabric of her dress away from her back a bit, glancing down at the pronounced curve of her sweet ass. “Barely any panties.”  He turns her around easily, cupping her chin in his hands so her wide eyes are looking only at him. “Who were you dressed for, doll?” He doesn’t give her the chance to answer as he crushes her lips against his, snarling. He’s waited so long, so fucking long , and he doesn’t want to wait anymore. 
 She whimpers under his rough treatment, but he can scent her, he knows her body is responding to him, he can smell her growing arousal, even as her conscious mind tries to rebel against her body’s orders. He’s drowning in her scent; sucking her tongue roughly into his mouth as he swallows every sound greedily. She smells so good, so ripe— and Steve’s eyes snap open as he realizes why.
 His perfect, sweet little Omega is going into heat. 
 Steve reluctantly pulls himself away from her, almost shaking with need as he watches her sit back on the bed, dazed. He wants her now, so badly, and he almost wants to throw caution to the wind and fuck her anyway, but… if he waits, he can mate her. Have her forever . The thought is appealing—after all, he does want her to be his, only his. What better way? 
 She doesn’t remember her night at the club. Steve knows this, because the next time he sees her, on his way back from the training room, he asks her if she’s done anything fun recently. 
 “Not really. I don’t think having someone carry your drunk body home counts as fun,” She replies, embarrassed. Steve pats her shoulder comfortingly. 
 “We’ve all had those nights.” 
 The uptick in her scent tells him he has a week—maybe a week and a half until she’s ready, but he doesn’t have to wait much longer. His opportunity comes the following week, when she’s scheduled to work at the labs—and doesn’t show up. He can hear her colleagues gossiping about her absence in the lounge, tittering amongst themselves as though no one could hear them. 
 “Why isn’t she on suppressants? I mean it’s not like they’re not safe.” 
 “Well, I mean it is a super high dose of hormones. Plenty of people don’t take them, you know.” 
 Steve smirks. He’s never felt luckier in his life. 
 When he unlocks the door to her apartment, he is greeted by silence. Her roommates are out—probably for the next few days until her heat is finished. Her scent is heavy, almost coppery, and the air inside is thick with it. Steve closes the door behind him, cupping himself shamelessly through his jeans as he licks his lips. She’s fucking calling to him, to his Alpha, her scent a dizzying cocktail of pheromones meant to entice her mate into planting a baby firmly in her belly. But she didn’t have a mate. 
 Steve grins.
 Well, not yet, anyway. 
 He finds her in her bedroom, the fan on full blast as she tries to cool herself down. The air in the room is so thick with the scent of her musk he can almost taste it as she writhes on the bed. She hasn’t noticed him yet, her eyes screwed shut as her delicate hand works between her legs. The sheets and blankets have all been kicked off in her frenzy, and Steve watches amusedly as she grinds the vibrator between her thighs.
 She scents him after a few moments of silence, her bleary eyes flying open. He can see her struggling to gather her thoughts and piece them together coherently. “S-Steve? How did you..?” He leans down to caress her face, and he can see the conflict. His little Omega wants to press her face into his palm and inhale his scent until she can’t smell anything else, she wants to push him off—but Steve knows which one she’s going to pick; after all he isn’t really giving her a choice. 
 Her lip trembles as she looks up at him. “But you can’t—you can’t be here, Steve!” He knows this has to be hard for her, inhaling his scent while her body trembles with a need that she can’t quite fulfill on her own. Her body knows it needs his knot, needs it more than she needs anything else, Steve just needs to make her give in and see it too. He chuckles softly at her exclamation, leaning down to brush his lips against her forehead. “I’m-I’m-I’m in heat!” She stammers, and he simply nods knowingly. 
 “Oh I know, doll. You need it so bad.” He says softly, pressing another kiss to her trembling mouth. He can see how slippery her grip on reason is, her heat cycle threatening to overwhelm her. “How many years has it been like this?” He asks, resting one knee on the bed as he swings the other across to trap her thighs between his. She whimpers. “How long has it been since you got knotted like you need, doll?” A high pitched whine escapes her throat at his words. 
 Steve chuckles, reaching down to remove her hand from her shorts. It’s still there, holding the vibrator to her swollen clit. He sucks her juices off of her fingers, nipping them with his teeth and moaning at the taste. 
 “I haven’t… I mean, I never—” Steve’s eyes widen at her admission, and his cock grows impossibly harder as he grinds it against her belly. She’s never had an Alpha before. He growls, silencing her rambling with a forceful kiss, nibbling hard on her juicy lips. So fucking perfect, his little Omega. She would do so well for him, have so many pups… And he would take such good care of her. He would make sure they never wanted for anything. 
 “Oh fuck doll. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting,” he laments, and when she opens her mouth to say something, but Steve isn’t interested in her denials. He doesn’t need to hear falsehoods from her lips, not when he can smell how right he is. He traps both of her tiny wrists with one large hand above her head as he slides the other one up her shirt. “Don’t know how bad I need you,” His voice is little more than a harsh growl. 
 She arches her back, pushing up into him as she gasps. “It hurts, Steve.” She whimpers, big brown eyes wet as she stares up at him. Her face is flushed and sweaty, eyes fever bright. “I hurt inside…” It’s too much for her now, him being so close, and not inside her like she needs. He’s glad he interrupted her before she could cum—she’ll be that much more desperate for relief. 
 Steve pulls the little bullet vibrator out of her shorts, tossing it behind him somewhere. “I know, baby.” He’s spent the past eight months waiting for this, and the moment is finally here. Steve isn’t sure what he wants to do first, he’s spoiled for choice. She whines again, breaking him from his reverie. He can feel the muscles in her belly clenching and releasing under his palm, her body eagerly encouraging her to breed. 
 He pulls her shorts down, fingers tangling in the elastic fabric. He groans loudly as her scent grows even stronger, washing over him in waves. Her breath catches in her throat as he tears them off, the plastic snapping against her skin.
 “Steve, we can’t, you shouldn’t—” He growls against her throat, and she quiets instantly, her body going rigid in his arms. Oh yes . This is why he loves her. Submitting just for him. 
 “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Omega. That’s my job.” He snarls, catching the skin of her throat in his teeth and biting down hard. She squeals loudly and bucks. Her mind is cloudy from her heat, and Steve knows he only has to push just a little further. “You’re so wet, doll.” He drags his fingers through her folds and she shudders, eyes rolling. “Why are you fighting it, baby?” He kisses the ugly purple bruise he’s left on her throat as he releases her hands. 
 He pulls her shirt up over her head, and she’s so gone that she lets him, her entire body shivering at the rush of air. “I know you’re a smart girl, my little Omega,” he drawls, kissing a slow path down her collarbone and stops between her breasts. “You know what your body wants. What it needs .” Steve squeezes one of her nipples between his fingers, before he lowers his head to suck it into his mouth. “What it was fucking made for. ” 
 He continues his downward path over her ribs, dipping his tongue into her belly button before he presses his face against her mound, inhaling deeply as he growls. She tastes so fucking good , and he can’t help but suck her engorged clit between his lips, roilling it against the roof of his mouth. She cries out brokenly as her hips shake. She’s so wet that the sheets beneath her shapely hips are wet too, saturated with her juices. She’s begging now, and when Steve glances up at her face, her mouth is open and panting, her back arched and eyes open, staring unseeing at the ceiling. 
 He eases one thick finger into her, and she squeezes around him, pulsing. “You’re so tight, baby.” He says quietly, pumping it into her gently as she writhes. “Ah, ah. No rushing me, Omega.” He chastises her, swatting her on her hip hard enough to leave a red splotch. 
 “I don’t know, I want—I need—” Her words are jumbled, slurred. 
 “I know what you need.” He curls his finger inside of her and she screams, her legs shaking as her body goes limp against him. He releases his grip on her, and she sinks down into the mattress, her eyes closed and breathing shallow, but even. Steve doesn’t waste any time stripping out of his own clothes, tearing some of them in his haste. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters but this. 
 It’s only when he’s positioning himself at her entrance does she seem to come to, her little hands pushing uselessly at his shoulders as his leaking cock brushes against her folds. 
 “No, Steve, wait!”
 “No.” His answer startles her into silence, and he pushes inside, his head lolling back as he thrusts shallowly, the head of his cock moving inside her. “You’re mine , baby. No more waiting.” He sinks in a little further, smiling as her eyes go wide, pupils dark and dilated. He can feel her walls fluttering around him, sucking at him. Even though she’s fighting him so hard—poor thing—he can tell she’s losing. Her hips are pushing against him, trying to force him in all the way, even as her mouth forms poorly worded excuses. “No more games.” 
 He seats himself all the way inside, and a ragged moan tears from his throat. It’s better. It’s better than he ever fucking thought it would be—she’s so tight and fucking perfect. He slides out slowly, and she reaches for him with shaking fingers scrabbling against his strong arms and shoulders. 
 “No, no, Alpha, please—” She’s pleading, digging her nails into his arms. He holds her hips down easily with one hand as he thrusts back in, and her pleas turn instantly into a hoarse moan. 
 “This is what you need,” he says, bringing her hips up to meet his roughly as he loses control. “Isn’t it, Omega?” She’s squeezing around him so tight it’s almost painful, her body milking him like it was made for him. He punctuates every word with a sharp snap of his hips, the head of his cock hitting hard against her cervix. “Tell. Me.” 
 “I n-need it so bad, Alpha!” She cries, arching her back as she tries to force his cock even deeper into her own pussy. “Your knot, I want it, want it so bad!” Her adorable begging devolves into helpless whines as he lifts her leg, wrapping it around his own waist and lays into her. 
 He’s so deep inside her and it’s still not enough. He wants—no, he needs— her to be full of him, full of his scent, his seed, his pups. Steve leans back up onto his knees, his hands finding the soft flesh of her ass as he lifts her onto his lap. Her little body seems to fit so well against his as he fucks up into her, growling as she wraps her arms around his neck. 
 “That’s it, baby.” He says lowly, lifting her and pulling her down onto his cock. She tightens up around him, and he can feel her body working up to another orgasm. “I have a present for you, doll,” He can feel his cock swelling at the base, his balls tightening. “You begged so pretty for Alpha’s knot,” he says, dipping his head down to suck again at the dark bruise on her throat. “You’re going to get it.” 
 “Yes, yes, yes, yes—” She comes hard, her whole body going rigid and shaking as he fucks her through it, curses spilling from his lips as he thrusts up and holds her down, his cock shooting rope after rope of hot cum into her clenching pussy. He’s stuck fast now, and it feels almost too good inside her. She’s panting against him, her eyes open but blank and unseeing as he sits on the edge of the bed with her in his lap, panting. . 
 She almost falls asleep like that, trapped on his knot, her cunt still trembling with the aftershocks of their coupling, and Steve strokes her back with sweaty, trembling fingers. But before his Omega can rest, he needs one more thing from her. 
 “Don’t sleep yet, doll.” She whines, shaking her head. “I know, baby. You’re so sleepy.” This time she nods, looking up at him with a confused, frustrated expression. He strokes her head as it lays on his chest, toying with her hair between his fingers. “One more thing. Sit up a little for me, doll.” He leans up, and sweeps the hair away from her throat. “That’s a good girl.” He holds her head with one hand as he sinks his teeth into her throat, moaning as her coppery blood floods his mouth. She jerks in his arms and cries out, tightening around his still hard cock as she comes apart for a third time. Steve moans, feeling himself jerk inside her as he does too, his seed leaking out around his knot and dripping down to the sheets beneath them. 
 He stays like that for a moment, licking at the bloody ring of teeth marks. He lays back down in the bed, with her caged in his arms, and stuck on his cock. This is heaven. She wriggles a little before she settles down, her breathing slow and even as she rests against him. He reaches up to gingerly prod at the bite with a single finger, he can feel the mating gland underneath, swollen and throbbing from the bite, and he smiles, still tasting the tang of her blood on his tongue, laden with a dizzying mix of her hormones. She hadn’t bitten him back, but there would be more than enough time for that later. 
 After all, they had all the time in the world now. Steve would die before he released her. She might fight him a bit at first, but he is certain she’ll get over it. 
 And even if she doesn’t, he’s more than willing to wait. 
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marbletable4 · 7 days ago
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nine-inencontrable · 9 days ago
A meandering poem in which the author debatably cooks dinner
It’s been suggested that Swedish meatballs would be nice to eat tonighT
Far be it from me to know what about them is remotely Swedish, or why on earth my grandfather thinks they’d be good over rice
When we have a surplus of pasta in the pantry
But regardless, it’s a wonderfully hands-on meal, requiring a fashionable, if dated, teal and yellow apron,
And so I happily oblige
His mother used to make these, he said
And so for the night I am she and I get to know a distant woman after whom I was named
I shift the small book out of the shelf and flip it to the pages he indicated, as with many depression era recipes it’s deceptively simple
Spotting Ms. Child’s book wedged above me, I put on Terry and Toni’s songs and hope secretly that the house’s inhabitants take the first track to heart while I let my mind wander
Making the meatballs: combine all the things you bought and a few things from around the minty green kitchen, mash them with your hands while marveling at how much less squeamish you’ve become
I smile to myself, imagining a young Lily James twirling around the kitchen as the ineffable Donna, accompanied by her present day counterpart in Julia Child getup and garish accent
The two spin around with the girl who rambles in my mind, and I really should talk to Willy Nelson about learning to be a cowboy, baby
Crack an egg into the meatball mixture and mix with your hands and watch how I’m getting squeamish again
Soon enough Carole King taps on my shoulder and it’s not too late baby now to slip in her dulcet tones between missing daddy and the ominous somebody who’s following me...
only I’m in the kitchen and Carole is singing about Baby loosing his chance and I’m put in mind of my big brothers big hands wrapped around a big mug as the California sky chokes red with smoke
I wonder if the Garthwaite brothers ever saw the sky do that
And after being followed I’m put in mind of a moonshadow... this week was a pink moon, which deceptively and disappointingly is not actually pink, but was pretty anyways
Finally, the egg has disappeared into the mess of beef and pork, and I turn to rinse the fear of raw meat off
If some god was one of us
I make a mental note to ask the record people if they’ve got this LP Once I get back to the house I’m really living in
If there’s a heaven, sings Toni
And I’m in a wide blue room or possibilities, maybe it’s narcissistic of us to believe we matter in life, much less in death
Roll the meatballs into small balls and cook them in hot oil
So I start the oil and scare myself with a water test as I wonder whether I’ll ever go downtown, and whether any of this should really count as scatting if it’s not Ella doing it
I decide it’s best to call it a scatting approximate, and grin privately at the thought of these wild music women
A body’s gotta have more than just a few bolts loose in order to make those noises into a microphone, and thank god they did
I paper some cookie sheets while the drums dissolve into some kind of quasi-zydeco and Donna dances around in long skirts and a tambourine, and if I join her for a shimmy or two that’s no ones business but my own
We take a brief interlude for Fitz and Ron to regale the meatballs and me with some delightful noodling, and then it’s off to Brownsville while I shakily throw the meat at boiling oil
Ms. Julia and I are following Donna and my great grandmother in a spirited line dance when shards of a lullaby I used to know better cut through our revelry
And then there’s nothing to do but totake a detour into the White Album,
If I wasn’t so pressed for time keeping the meatballs from burning I might’ve tracked down Liza’s rendition,
but I have to satisfy myself with the memory of her stool and spotlight, and some ill-executed vocal runs that are at best put to shame by Paul’s lilting notes and at worst an affront to the very memory of the Garland women
The meatballs are beginning to sweat, and before I get the chance to switch over to the sexy preacher man’s boy, Toni starts in on the melancholy tale of a debatable alcohol problem
And I’m back in my grandmothers dining room, picking at turkey and cranberry sauce while everyone debated how to track down my uncle now that he’s gotten himself lost after rehab, and I wonder privately to myself if perhaps it was better our family stopped reproducing all together
But that would mean I wouldn’t be an aunt to the cheery chubby boy I hope to hold someday when the world no longer breathes disease, and after all, a niece on the way can’t be a bad thing as long as we all remember to be better about our vices, and
Making the gravy: while the meatballs brown, add flour, Worcestershire sauce, think of your childhood friend with that hard to pronounce last name, the one you told you might like girls, and who replied that she thinks she’d like to move away from everyone to a farm with a gun, and would you like blue or purple nail polish this time?
Add pepper because you don’t trust your white family, and silently thank Ms. Brown for moving on to something upbeat
While I sift flower over quickly burning oil, I wonder whether the faeish Irishman had ever listened to time telling him, while he wrote about Nina and Movement
Toni’s ready for a good man
but did you ever really think you’d love a man like me
And I ought to put that on soon, but here comes my grandfather to hold his face over the sizzling pan and query with a young boys eyes whether he can help
So you let him start water boiling for the noodles, forgetting in your musical fog that he approaches even the loosest of cooking with an engineers eye,
And even though it’s a full half an hour later before he even sets the noodles cooking, you’re glad he came in
You can feel his mother smiling through you as he reminisces about the smell of the dish
But before then the band strikes up a lilting guitar piece about generational trauma, and all at once you yearn to put on the Highwomen and messrs David, Stephen, Graham, and Neil
And maybe the Berkeley musicians are meaning their tune to soothe the burns of the War, but you begin to feel the familiar specter of parenthood creep over you again
And you’re frozen briefly, while the noodles bubble and the meatballs crackle and pop and the green beans wait patiently to be shucked
And you see in your minds eye again the house you dream of and the night you hope for, when the family is asleep and they trust you care for them, and the scrapes have bandaids and the bellies have food and the foreheads have kisses and the arms have hugs
And you return to the present where the family you made food for today is waiting to eat it, and you decide to trust Ms. Toni and Father Time and wonder do they know, can we tell them, they will follow only if they can
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Positive Attitude Quotes For WhatsApp DP, Status
Here you are to get, positive deduction cites for WhatsApp DP. On the off chance that you need any kind of sure deduction quote, to use for WhatsApp DP, at that point this article will give you every one of those statements.
There are different kinds of statements accessible on this article, it will assist you with getting whatever sorts of statements you are searching for WhatsApp DP, and wish to utilize some certain WhatsApp DP for your profile.
These persuasive statements are exceptionally uncommon for the individuals who consistently incline toward rousing others with little endeavors.
Individuals can just get motivated by examining these statements.
Presently appreciate the positive status for whatsapp given underneath alongside certain dp, and status.
Mentalities are a higher priority than realities. George MacDonald Snap to tweet
I won't take "yet" for an answer. Langston Hughes
Your goals are your potential outcomes. Samuel Johnson
Demeanor will consistently characterize who we are throughout everyday life. Imprint A. Brennan
To fly, we must have opposition. Maya Lin
Planning + Mentality + Opportunity + Activity = Karma. John C. Maxwell
Each divider is an entryway. Ralph Waldo Emerson
An awful mentality is more regrettable than a terrible swing. Payne Stewart
No one but you can handle your future. Dr. Seuss
Interminable hopefulness is a power multiplier. Colin Powell
Consistently brings new decisions. Martha Beck
Obligation is the incredible designer of men. Mary Parker Follett
You become your opinion about. Napoleon Slope Snap to tweet
In the event that you figure you can't, you're correct. Tune Bartz
Disposition decides the elevation of life. Edwin Louis Cole
No one but I can completely change me. Nobody can do it for me. Hymn Burnett
I don't luck out. I make my own karma. Harvey Phantom (Suits)
No guts, no story. Chris Brady
My life is my message. Mahatma Gandhi
Screw it, how about we do it. Richard Branson
Strength be my companion. William Shakespeare
Continue onward. Be in with no reservations. Bryan Hutchinson
My life is my contention. Albert Schweitzer
Think ambitiously. Implore greater.
Investigate every possibility. Euripides
f it is important to you, you'll discover a way. Charlie Gilkey
She accepted she could, so she did.
The past doesn't rise to what's to come. Tony Robbins
Disregard style; stress over outcomes. Bobby Orr
Achievement is the offspring of dauntlessness. Benjamin Disraeli
Whatever you do, do energetically. Marcus Tullius Cicero
Dream unafraid. Love unbounded.
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gold-rush-writings · 10 days ago
Tired eyes and frozen noodles
Pairing: Furio Giunta x Reader
Summary: You help Furio relax after a bit of a gruesome day.
Warnings: None that come to mind except for maybe a typo or two and maybe some bad writing, season 2 spoilers, and definitely a bad title. 😂
Words: 1,423
A/N: requested by the lovely @x-wouldyoukindly I hope this is ok and close to what you had in mind, I apologize for the wait and hope your having a great week!
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(GIF is not mine! creds to the owner.)
The tv was the only thing illuminating the living room when Furio arrived home, his day had been absolutely horrendous. What with the grisly job of disposing Richie Aprile’s body, the meer thought of it alone made him wrinkle his nose. His lifestyle had brought him many great opportunities, but it had also brought with it a few undesirable duties. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he instead fixed his gaze on your sleeping form that was curled up on the sofa. The way the blueish hues that emitted from the tv highlighted your features gave you an almost ethereal glow.
You, were in fact one of the great opportunities that his lifestyle had brought him. If it wasn’t for Tony bringing him over to America, and for Carmela and Tony opening their home to have a party celebrating his arrival you’d have never met. Of course, at first when he began pursuing you, you were hesitant about the whole thing. Beings you were in the same friend group with Carmela, Angie, Ro, and Adriana, you’d heard many stories about all the men from that walk of life, including stories about Furio. But, he was always very sweet and gentle with and around you, never once since your relationship started had you seen his so called “darker side” emerge.
And he never wanted to subject you to that for fear of losing you, which is why before joining you on the sofa he looked down at his clothes. White shirt and the skin that peeked out of the neckline speckled red, he’d get rid of the shirt and take a shower to cleanse himself completely before snuggling up to you. He didn’t want you subjected to that kind of filth, even if you had assured him you wouldn’t be scared if by chance you did see something the average person would consider to be out of the ordinary. Going into the garage, he shed himself of every article of blood spattered clothing, he’d get rid of it tomorrow, it’s hiding spot in the garage ensuring that you’d never see it.
Quietly sneaking past your still slumbering form to the shower, the fact that you’d tried to stay up to greet him when he got home bringing a soft smile to his lips. He scrubbed his skin quickly, excited to get done so he could spend time with you. Drying his skin, he pulled on some sweats and a T-shirt, hurriedly running a hairbrush through his slightly damp hair before quietly racing down the stairs. A smile once again passing over his features as you mumbled in your sleep, turning over onto your side to face the tv. The light from it causing you to lazily open your sleepy eyes. Rubbing your eyes in an effort to clear the sleep from them you yawned, turning to look at the clock only to smile sleepy at Furio.
Your eyes lighting up when he smiled back at you, sitting up, you beckoned him to come over next to you. Smiling widely when he obliged, resting his body tiredly on the cushions, his head falling to rest on your lap. Your hands immediately went to his hair, fingers gently combing through the soft dark strands. His hair was always so silky and nice and you found it almost impossible to resist the urge to touch it. Doing your best to gently separate each strand of silky hair, a tired hum falling from your lips as you studied his relaxed features. His hand slipping under your thigh as he turned onto his side, allowing you more access to his hair.
You delighted in this, smirking down at him, his eyes closed and the corners of his lips curled upward as he nuzzled his face into your thighs even more. The two of you stayed like this for awhile, enjoying the quiet comfort of simply being in each other’s company. You finally decided to speak when you heard his stomach growl, your hand leaving his silky nest of hair to trace the shell of his ear with a feather light touch, eliciting a shiver from him.
“Are you hungry?” Your voice just loud enough for him to hear, he turned slightly, looking up at you with his entrancing dark eyes that you’d so grown to love.
“You don’t have to make anything.” His broken English heavily accented by his Italian tongue, “I’ll wait until morning so I can eat with you.”
“I’m not going to let you go to bed on an empty stomach, besides, there’s those frozen noodles we made last weekend in the freezer. You know those only take five minutes to cook.”
You looked down at him with a grin, allowing him to take your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your palm before he brought it to his lips.
“Come on, let me up.” You prodded gently at his shoulder with your free hand.
“Let me help?”
“You’re tired, let me do it for you, I’ll be gone literally ten minutes, you won’t even miss me.” You explained, patting his cheek lightly as you shifted his head off your lap and onto a pillow, before making your way to the kitchen. Busying yourself with preparing the Spaghetti Aglio e olio recipe that Furio had taught you to make over the weekend.
A smile crossed your face at the memory of that weekend as you watched the garlic toast to perfection in the pan. Furio was always so sweet and patient with you, you couldn’t imagine your life without him and you certainly wouldn’t trade him for anything. The sound of the oil popping and gurgling brought you back to your senses and you pulled the sauce pan off the heat, adding the pasta you’d cooked to the pan along with the red pepper flakes, black pepper, and salt.
Twirling a healthy amount into a neat heap in a bowl, you made your way back out to Furio. His face instantly lighting up with a smile at the sight of you, “I made this just like you taught me.”
Passing him the bowl you sat next to him, watching as he twirled each noodle around the prongs of the fork with the utmost care.
“Very good.” He complimented, winking at you while wiping the corner of his mouth with the napkin you’d given him, “did you try it?”
“No, I made it for you.” Your lips curling into a grin, his hand holding the fork out to you expectantly, “a good chef always tries their food.”’
“Alright.” You obliged, biting the noodles off the fork which he held out to you, the nutty and rich flavors exploding across your tastebuds in the most delightful way, a moan leaving your lips. Your eyes connected with his dark ones and you both shared a laugh at your reaction.
“It’s really good.”
“Well, that’s because I had the best teacher.” You teased, smiling when he sat the now empty bowl down on the coffee table, stretching his arm out to usher you closer to him. A chuckle rumbling through his chest when you curled up into his side, your head leaning on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before tracing gentle patterns on your arm.
“Thank you for making me dinner.”
“Of course, it’s the least I could do.” Tilting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes staying locked on each other’s before your lips met in a soft kiss. The gentle peck ending when he pulled back to rest his forehead on yours, you could tell he wouldn’t stay awake much longer, his tired eyelids drooping and his body slouching into the couch more. You patted his chest lightly, kissing his cheek as his slow and gentle breaths fanned across your features, “why don’t you go get ready for bed?”
“I hardly got to see you today though.”
“There’s always tomorrow though.” You assured, pecking his cheek once more before pushing him up off the couch and towards the bedroom, “go on, I’ll clean up in the kitchen and be right in.”
He nodded quietly, turning to kiss you gently before heading to bed, “I love you.” His voice echoing in your ears making you smile, “I love you too.”
At this he smiled, heading down the hall to the bedroom as your eyes watched his retreating form, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky to be blessed with Furio.
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3naess · 10 days ago
For every black person killed by the police, there is at least one white person (usually many) killed in a similar way. The day before cops in Louisville barged into Breonna Taylor’s home and killed her, cops barged into the home of a white man named Duncan Lemp, killed him, and wounded his girlfriend (who was sleeping beside him). Even George Floyd, whose death was particularly brutal, has a white counterpart: Tony Timpa. Timpa was killed in 2016 by a Dallas police officer who used his knee to pin Timpa to the ground (face down) for 13 minutes. In the video, you can hear Timpa whimpering and begging to be let go. After he lets out his final breaths, the officers begin cracking jokes about him. Criminal charges initially brought against them were later dropped.
At a gut level, it is hard for most people to feel the same level of outrage when the cops kill a white person. Perhaps that is as it should be. After all, for most of American history, it was white suffering that provoked more outrage. But I would submit that if this new “anti-racist” bias is justified—if we now have a moral obligation to care more about certain lives than others based on skin color, or based on racial-historical bloodguilt—then everything that I thought I knew about basic morality, and everything that the world’s philosophical and religious traditions have been saying about common humanity, revenge, and forgiveness since antiquity, should be thrown out the window.
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stuckybarton · 11 days ago
A Family Problem
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Summary: The plan had been simple for Steve and Bucky to finally start a family of their own; neither seemed to realize the implications that came with meeting a woman who made them question what they would have wanted from her at the start of their agreement. They desired a child, a bouncing baby with Steve's blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, or Bucky's brown hair and baby blues, but instead received Y/N Stark, a train wreck. Characters: AU! Established Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes;  Stark!Reader x Stucky; Tony Stark; James Rhodes; Natasha Romanoff; Sharon Carter Warnings: Profanities. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] Words: 2,958 Chapters: [1/5] A/N; So this just happen. Lol.
Hangover beyond belief, the last thing you wanted to do was wake up earlier than 10 and linger in the traffic of New York. It was one thing to deal with the traffic, it was another to be reminded of why you needed to leave the comfort of your bed.
 Your brother, the ever best, ever brilliant, Tony Stark has summoned you back into the company, for reasons still unknown to you. You left the company years ago, dejected by your father, Howard’s lack of trust in having you anywhere else but in marketing. Was it a gender thing or an age thing, you never got the answer as your father died a few months later.
 Those memories were behind you now, you lead a weird freelance life, working with several clients that may need your expertise in selling whatever product they might have in their company, paid handsomely, you were living in a career on your own pace, without the obligations that a 9-5 has.
 Eventually, in what felt like years, you’ve finally arrived in front of the Stark Inc., your father and brother’s blood, sweat, tears, and other extremities you don’t want to think too much about in her half drunken state.
 Slipping on your shades and leather jacket, you made your way into the lobby, the inside was still the same as it's always been since you had last been here. The same décor, the same aesthetic, and the same mediocrity that had the competition moving way ahead of them.
 At the reception, you were greeted by a bored looking receptionist that looked like she didn’t want to be here working.
 “I have an appointment with Tony Stark.” You announced, bored, easily infected by the woman’s own.
 From your sunglasses, you noticed the woman roll her eyes. How often did your brother have visitors in the office to have the receptionist act like this?
 “Mr. Stark is busy, unless you have a prior meeting penned up, we are unable to have you meet him at the moment.”
 You lingered your eyes at the woman, aside from the mediocre design of the lobby, it looks like your brother had compromised with employees.
 “I don’t understand why I need to pen a meeting with my brother when he was the one that called for me this morning.”
 A snort and the judgmental eyes now lingered on the woman. You hated woman like her, pretty privilege. A pretty face could only get you as far. Your (e/c) eyes narrowed down towards her ID. Sharon Carter. You made sure you would take note of the name in the future, have a little talk with your big brother about teaching his receptionist about proper hospitality.
 Turning your head away from the bitch, you smirked at the sight of a familiar individual you had never admitted to missing since leaving Stark Inc., James Rhodes, or who you have affectionately called Rhodey since meeting the often perceptive man.
 “My brother is being a real asshole to me right now, I just know it.” You sighed hugging the man before turning your attention back to the now shocked receptionist. “Do I really have to call my brother and make this situation more complicated?” You smiled sweetly at the woman, daring her to say anything that would get her into more trouble than she already was.
 “It’s okay, Sharon. This is (Y/N), Tony’s little sister.” Rhodey assured. “Tony’s been packed with meetings that he must have forgotten to tell reception about her arriving.” He continued to explain.
 “Why do you have to always defend my brother’s irresponsibility again?” You inquired, both of you now watching the fumbling receptionist set up your visitors pass for your visit.
 “Because I’m his lawyer as well as yours.” He pointed out.
 You couldn’t help but smile, the man had done more help that your own brother at times All the contracts you have made with your clients weren’t of your own doing, but of the man besides you. The man had ensure you were good with the career you have right now, without the need to depend on your brother or the name that you were forced to carry.
 “Can I have an ID please?” Sharon had requested.
 You smiled at the fear that now lingered on the woman’s face. Serves her right. Pulling out your wallet, you handed her your driver’s license. The fear growing further and further in her eyes, you have observed as it was clear that she wasn’t lying, (Y/N) Stark. The prodigal daughter, a name the press had bestowed upon you upon your resignation and the eventual stagnation of Stark Inc.
 As soon as you had the Visitor’s Pass at hand, the two of you made your way to the elevator.
 “So what are you up to this days?”
 “I’m was on break when my favourite brother thought it would be best to threaten my share of the company if I don’t head here.”
 “Typical Tony.” Rhodey chuckled.
 Silence had enveloped the both of you. As much as you tried to steer clear of anything that concerns your family’s company, you couldn’t help but worry. The bleak interior that your brother had no business actually managing was scaring you. You could only hope the internal wasn’t as bad as what was shown in the outside.
 “Have any plans on coming back?” Rhodey breaks the silence in the elevator. You never saw yourself back here, not unless you understand if the company was actually going under. It doesn’t seem that way, at least you had hoped it wasn’t.
 “Does Tony want me back? Did my brother actually stop having a stick up his ass and finally have some help running the company?” You inquired.
 “You’d be surprise with the new faces in the company, (Y/N). All it needs is a good Marketing lead.”
 “Tony wants me back? Is that it?”
 “We all do, believe it or not, we’ve all seen what you’re capable of doing all on your own. Tony isn’t even pissed when you worked for a competitor, more impressed than anything.”
 “Tony should show me the same energy as you are if he wants me to even consider coming back.”
 Rhodey couldn’t try convincing you any more than he already had as the elevator dinged and they were in Tony’s floor. The executive deck as they had once playfully called the floor. It housed three offices, your brothers, yours, and your father’s own. It peaked your interest to know who the new occupants are.
 “Good Morning, Ms. Stark.”
 You smirked who you’d assume would be your brother’s secretary.
 “Where is my brother?” You inquired, eyes falling to the name place on her cubicle. Natasha Romanoff. A beautiful woman in an immaculate dress, her fiery red hair was tamed in a simple bob.
 “Mr. Stark is currently in a meeting. Would you want anything while you wait?”
 You blinked realizing that this was dragging on and you’d want nothing more than head back home and continue to nurse the hangover you still have.
 “With who?”
 “Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers.”
 Barnes. Rogers. The name doesn’t ring a bell in your alcohol induced head. If this was one of the new faces Rhodey was talking about, then it might be best to introduce yourself—a mess in all your glory.
 “Business partners?” You inquired already thinking of a way to get back at your brother.
 “The Vice President and President, respectively.”
 It’s even better than you’d actually think it was.
 “(Y/N), I know what you’re gonna do. Don’t.” Rhodey warned. You didn’t know he was still there.
 “I just want to know who stole my spot in the company, Rhodey, no harm in seeing who they are.” You snort already making your way towards your brother’s office, ignoring the warnings from both of them.
 With a loud slam of the door, three heads jerked towards you.
 “Hello Anthony, what seems to be so important that you’d dare interrupt my beauty sleep and have the balls to threaten my stocks in the company?” Your booming voice had welcomed three reactions from the three.
 Your brother face palming himself at your arrival, visible amusement on the brunette, and annoyance on the blonde one.
 If Tony can ruin your day, well you’d be damn sure of ruin his too.
Tony couldn’t be serious. Steve continuous to questioned in his head. Slamming the door open, the last thing he would have expected to see was a mess of a woman in a leather jacket, tank top, and sweatpants. Who even wears sunglasses inside the office?
 Tony couldn’t even finish a sentence before the woman had the balls to make her way towards them, closer he could smell the stench of perfume and alcohol. Was she drinking in broad daylight? He had known about the Prodigal Stark that left when Howard had her remain in Marketing instead of being promoted as the president as she had always been groomed to be all her life.
 Steve didn't understand the need for her until he discovered what she was capable of doing even when she wasn't being propelled by the machine of this company. She was singlehandedly responsible for why their competitor was leading the market. Looking past her current appearance, her talent was highly sought after, with companies vying to hire her exclusively.
 No one had yet succeeded. Nobody, not even Tony, he believes, could persuade her. The fact that he and Bucky were in the same room, stealing a possible promotion she would have received, was insufficient to persuade her to stay.
 “It was one thing to wake me beyond my usual schedule, it was another to not inform your receptionist I was coming so I had to stand like a hobo in reception if it wasn’t for Rhodey.” She continued, all throughout her words, Steve was bothered by the smile on her face.
 Tony once again tried to talk but with one hand raised up by the woman, he once again halted.
 “If you even dare tell me you’ve had made me put so much effort only to ask me to go back to this company, you’re mistaken, Anthony.” She spat turning her eyes toward him. “You have semi-capable men that stole my spot in the company working for you, have them think of a way to actually beat your competitors.”
 He continued to watch the two siblings banter—well, more like Tony’s sister tearing a new hole at him. Why did he need to watch this? He was itching to stop this bullshit.
 “You don’t want to talk as a sister then fine!” Tony snapped, it was rare for Steve to see, it genuinely scared him for a moment too. “Name your price, (Y/N).”
 Silence had lingered in the room. Steve turned to Bucky, his lover, the only person he was more willing to move hell for somehow enjoying the show. A smile played on his supple lips and eyes brightened at whatever was happening in front of them. Bucky did always enjoy a break from mundanity—this was a rare occurrence in the office.
 “You can’t afford me, Anthony.” Y/N snorts eyes turning her gaze back at him and then Bucky. “I’m guessing they’ve never watched Jerry Springer before?”
 “Stop changing the fucking topic, (Y/N). Name. Your. Price.”
 All the bravado had magically faded away from her stance. She broke eyes contact from anyone in the room. What scared her so much? Was her time in the company that horrible that returning wasn’t an option anymore?
 “Two million for one campaign.” She finally gives in.
 It was beyond their expected budget for the entire season, she must have been kidding.
 “Tony—“Steve would be damned if Tony would allow her in here for five months and run with that amount of money.
 “Deal. But you will exclusively for the company during the campaign.”
 “Fuck no, Anthony. If you want me then you need to work for me at my own terms!”
 “This is the company’s 50th Anniversary. I don’t want another competitor coming ruining it for us.”
 He watched her in her own little thought, (E/C) starring through the desk, thinking of anything to refuse his offer, to accept it. The conflict was written well on her features.
 “Double my usual rate and I work at my own time and I choose who are a part of my team.” She compromises.
 “You have our company to your disposal.” Tony sighed. “I’d even triple your rate if the campaign is successful.”
 Six million. Tony was desperate to throw as much money as he does in this very moment for his sister. The line between this being a personal thing and a business acquisition was getting murky and made Steve question the danger and collateral damage this would surely end in. This was far too much of a high risk to be considered acceptable. The board wouldn’t appreciate this.
 “Deal.” She sighed pulling out her phone. “I’ll send Rhodey my contract for you to review this afternoon. Fuck me up and you’ll be sure that I’ll work exclusively for Ark from now on.” She threatens.
 “No need to be so stabby stabby on me, (Y/N). We’re family after all.” Tony tried to bite back to kill the tension in the air.
 “I stopped believing my family was in this company the moment my own father decided that a former competitor’s executive was a better fit as President instead of his own daughter.”
 How did she—
 “Steve right? Fury says Hi, you motherfucker.” She smirked before making her way towards the door halting just by the door frame, with her back turned to everyone. “I’ll start tomorrow. I expect my office downstairs to be refurbished the same way I had it before.” Then she left slamming the door as she had done when she entered.
 A train wreck, a brilliant train wreck that screwed the company over.
“Seriously Tony, what the fuck?” Steve was mad, that much Bucky knew.
 Being too distracted about the whole argument between brother and sister, he didn’t noticed the growing tension of his lover besides him. Tense shoulders, clenched jaws, and the narrowed eyes were a sure indicator of Steve’s stellar mood.
 “Steve—“ Bucky tried to placate.
 “I’ll pay her with my own money. The company doesn’t need to worry about her financially.” Tony brushed off, making his way back to his desk.
 “That doesn’t solve the problem. You said we will be talking about this first. But you’ve made an offer than isn’t even profitable in the long run.”
 Bucky could understand the worry Steve has. Everyone did at this moment in time. Y/N Stark had been an enigma in the business world, whatever her fingers touch it will be profitable, no questions asked. Stark Inc’s biggest failure was her departure, it spelled the slow burned doom that no one was ready to accept yet.  He would like to believe that Tony was clinging into her magic and hope it would come to the company once again, but it was more about wanting her here, the family business, more than anything.
 “She alone will make our campaign profitable.” Tony dismissed.
 “You can’t have so much faith on one fucking person, not even your own sister!”
 Bucky held onto Steve’s hand, hoping it would be the one thing that would calm him down. Shaking hand, this conversation was going to be dangerous, more than anything else right now.
 “Since my sister left, our company’s stocks has consistently been declining. If I don’t place my blame on her leaving then I will put it on you and Barnes. Maybe if I vetoed Dad’s decision years ago, then I wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. I might not have you, but I would still have my fucking sister and a profiting company.”
 “You can’t put all the blame on me, Stark! I did everything I could, more than anyone in this company. Your poor decisions because of your sister has nothing to do with me. Fixing the mistake you’ve made in the past will do nothing for the company, just your pride.”
 This was a part of Steve that scared Bucky at times. He would use anything he could to hurt someone if he was wounded. Even he wasn’t safe from his words at times, it scared half of the company, his calculated and ruthless façade and it made him blissfully ignorant of everything else he was actually capable of doing if the need arises.
 “Then I’m waging my position in this company. If this campaign isn’t successful then I’m resigning. No question asked,”
 “Enough! The two of you!” Bucky has had it. Their argument was getting nowhere. It was dangerous line now where someone would end up without a job and resentment certain to linger.
 “You can fool everyone in this company with your bravado and your name, but between the two of us, I’m the one that came from the bottom up and you’re just the son of the man that worked hard to make this company from the ground up.”
 “Get out.”
 Bucky had to rub his temples as this. The ego of two men was dangerous combination in an already stressful environment.
 “Steve, let’s just go. The two of you need to cooldown.”
 Steve looked like he was ready to argue, but Bucky stood ready to leave alone if he must, but he wasn’t going to involve himself with the butting heads of the two of them anymore.
 “If I see her screw up, she’s out, Stark. If you wouldn’t kick her out, I’ll make sure the board does it for you.”
 “Get out!”
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[ ep 6 liveblog/commentary under the cut (finally) ... so many screenshots inside. I’m not sorry? ]
this is fairly stream of consciousness as I was watching in between bouts of tutoring so it’s less Massive Thinky Thoughts than usual, but w/e, it’s a commentary!
They said no fly zone and I was immediately concerned. If Sam goes out there with the wings, I hope he doesn’t get shot at. On the flip side, Bucky just “Sergeant Barnes” his way in, huh?
I appreciate them using the holo-face tech again so it’s not a throwaway, but also having those makes everything so messy. In the meantime though look at this pause face XD
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“I thought Captain America was on the moon.” Who spread this rumor widely enough for members of the GRC to believe it?? lmao
“A baguette and a few French fries.” Sam’s sass will never stop being top tier. Also I love that both Caps get to fight Batroc. Yay parallels!
“You don’t think I’ve ever fought for something bigger than myself? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, and I’ve failed twice.” Ow. Bucky, you’ve kept Steve safe all throughout WWII, you’ve been part of the fight with Thanos and helped the Avengers win, you’ve fought your own mind for the greater good, healed the damage and the trigger words in order not to become a weapon against people, stop thinking of your failures ;_; (I say as my Nat muse shrugs sympathetically in my head)
Bucky showing off the same compassion as Sam with Karli? <chef’s kiss> Bucky on a motorcycle again? <double chef’s kiss>
Sharon I see you with that trick. We stan a smart woman!! Not gonna lie I did think it was a tracker at first though. Ruthless. Way more ruthless than Sam would approve of...
I’m not gonna lie, seeing the difference in fighting style between Steve and Sam with the shield is just so fun? Sam gets to work far more in three dimensions, he uses the repulsors and the wings and the shield all in tandem. It’s like seeing a cross between Steve and Tony in some ways, but with the added acrobatics. It’s cool!
Seeing Karli’s supporters starting to question her and her extremism is rewarding. I’ve known multiple people who have come from backgrounds that were pretty close to brainwashing that have slowly broken out of it over time, either due to seeing how twisted things were towards the top or increased exposure to people who weren’t part of their (forcibly) exclusive group. It’s a hell of a wake up call. And that extremism continues for Karli, setting the truck on fire. How much are her friends following out of genuine commitment vs out of obligation vs out of fear?
Walker’s “you don’t think Lemar’s life mattered” is the realest anger from him that I’ve been able to identify yet. At least if he’s fighting them, Bucky’s getting a chance to save the hostages.
“Boy you just earned this ass-whoopin’!” XD XD XD
And there we have the contrast: John continuing to fight single-mindedly instead of giving a damn about the people trapped and burning to death. He doesn’t always think those lives matter. The parallels with Karli build. And of course she’s getting her ass kicked to some extent because Walker is a trained fighter, she’s far more someone working on instinct. But good on him for trying at the last minute to save them anyway.
We knew Sam was gonna save the day but damn it feels good to see it!! I love the concept of him with his human strength augmented only by the tech he wears (like Tony!) wearing the wings of an angel, saving people with superhuman compassion and a brain that lights up like the fourth of July. That’s our new Cap, folks, the one that we needed.
Bucky’s smile in response I’m !!
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Sam knocking out five people with the shield, you work them angles, babe !!!!!!!
Is it Sharon backstory time? It sure fuckin’ is!! Holy shit she’s got so much more invested in this fight than a pardon, and her face here is just so genuinely hurt?? Ow. But also cool the Power Broker theory was true. Honestly props to her for rising to the top and finding a way to keep tabs on the whole world while legit exiled. That said, she’s got to have done some incredibly problematic shit to get there so we’ll see what shakes down from that.
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Aw fuck of course she’s been shot. Gonna skin someone if she doesn’t make it, but given how they had her moving after, she should be fine. People in the MCU have come back from far worse lol
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If this murderball wasn’t the antagonist, Nat would be cheering her on, look at how fierce!
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But also Sam ;_;
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Okay, feels aside, check out the way that when the shield gets punched, Sam instinctively pre-empts being shoved back by deploying his wings, digging them into the ground to reinforce his stance. You can see here that he’s got it tripod style behind him, knees bent to absorb the shock and keep him balanced but flexible while he takes the blow. Whoever planned and choreographed this knew their shit. This here martial artist approves!
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“Stay down!” “No.”
“Lincoln, really?” “Great man, great quote.” “Not when you say it.” Pfffft.
Karli’s desperation for Sam to fight back is such a poignant note here despite the hoarse yelling, because it speaks to her need for validation, the need to believe that she’s fighting for the right reason, that the people opposing her deserve to be hurt. But if he doesn’t fight despite everything, then he’s simply not allowing her that vindication, and she has no choice but to question whether it’s right to fight him. Innocents being harmed? She can do that in an abstract way. She’s not punching or shooting them, they just happen to be there and in the way of the explosion. The GRC members? Not innocent because they’re directly taking away her ability to further her cause via passed resolutions and inadequately distributed resources. Sam is neither of those. He’s clearly fighting alongside those who oppose her, but refuses to actually fight her despite his ability to. He’s someone she can’t resolve with her ideas of the world and it’s devastating her. Even as she’s got her gun trained on him, she looks lost and has to fight to regain the nerve to shoot.
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Thank you Sharon. It’s possible he could have pulled something out of the hat last minute (he did have his wings after all), and the look Sam gives her is slightly disbelieving, but I think a lot of the grief here is the fact that she’s so young and her cause has roots in a genuine problem that’s not being resolved and is impacting literally half the population of the world. Sharon looks so relieved, and it must hurt to see her protege die especially at her own hand, but she’s never been one to pull her punches (or her bullets).
How long do you think this death is going to haunt him? (Can anyone say “his whole life”?) (Also La Pieta vibes)
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AN ACTUAL ANGEL oh, he lands so gently, looks so solemn, puts her on a stretcher to try to save her T_T
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Sorry I totally broke the mood and laughed at “or is it Captain Falcon” because I’ve played too much SSBBM early in my life oops. Just imagine Sam as this guy, yelling “FALCON PUNCH” dsfkjgsdjfh
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Okay, I’m so glad that Sam is broaching this topic in public (despite the fact that you know they’d try to move it to a private discussion immediately in real life), and that he’s trying to make people understand the struggle and make more compassionate decisions. What I found highly interesting in the cinematography here is that:
1) They pan back to Bucky occasionally to show him thoughtfully listening, not interrupting, and maybe it’s important that this be an example to follow for people who are non-minorities when a member of a minority is talking about their struggle, and
2) when he says “Every time I pick this up, I know millions of people are going to hate me for it.” they cut immediately to a close up of John Walker…
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And he looks down, guilty. Maybe that’s a sign of self-recognition. Maybe there’s hope for a change. (I wouldn’t hold my breath for it though.)
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Oh hell the look on Isaiah’s face. Did I cry? A little.
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Bucky’s starting to smile just the teeniest bit but you know who’s also smiling? TORRES. HI BABY BOY!
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Empathy, empathy, empathy. The power of the people, the power of the government, the power imbalances that make the world the way it is. Sam. Wilson. GOD I love him. Thank you, thank you.
Bucky trying to play it cool. You dumb butt XD Look at their dumb faces aaa
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Ahh, Sharon. Told you she’d be fine. Just needs to see an illicit doc or something. She probably has twenty of them lined up.
Oh D: That’s… no… why death, no.
Of course Zemo is smiling, he probably arranged for the Super Soldier deaths. OR VALENTINA hello I forgot about you. Oh, US Agent outfit, proper. He’s acting like a little child with it, go figure ^^; Still haven’t figured out Valentina’s motives, I’m curious.
Aw hi Yori. Bucky being honest and making proper amends is gonna make me tear up again. But also: “by the Winter Soldier… and that was me.” WAS. WAS. THIS IS PROGRESS. “I didn’t have a choice.” P R O G R E S S. EVERY NAME CROSSED OUT. P R O G R E S S !
Sam & Isaiah. I’m so proud of them. “You’re special.” DAMN RIGHT!! Gosh I love them I love them I love them.
“I might fail. Shit, I might die. But we built this country. Bled for it. I’m not gonna let anybody tell me I can’t fight for it. Not after what everybody before me went through. Including you.”
CATCH ME TEARING UP AGAIN. They got him a memorial!
Ahhh a party! Sam smiling! Bucky roughhousing with the kids! HAPPINESS ;A;
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“Welcome home Agent Carter.” Hmm this doesn’t seem like the best… ah, yep. Saw that one coming XD Look at that boss face though yow!! 
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Also I’m hoping we get to see her at Peak Manipulative doing Cool Things in an Ends Justify The Means fashion because how dare that be reserved for men in superhero shows/movies? We love to see a woman about to deliver a smackdown.
closing thoughts: Lots of plot movement and action in this round, and finally an episode that was centered properly around Sam and the impact he has on the world. We saw an acknowledgement of real world struggles, steps taken to avert extremists but also steps taken to fix the core issue at the end. We see Sam saying you don’t want Karli 2.0 which reinforces the power of violent protest in otherwise peaceful movements and the fact that it’s listened to. We see a reclaiming of dignity, of owning one’s own power, of facing one’s fears and healing. We have an appropriate cliffhanger. Nothing in this episode was wildly surprising (though I though it was interesting that they went with moving the people out of the building, presumably to allow Sam greater flexibility to soar around and look cool, and also to buy them time so they didn’t get gunned down lol). On the other hand, there was nothing that I found needed to be surprising. It was a solid episode and I enjoyed it, and the resolution especially with Isaiah made me really happy. I’m eager to see what’s in store for Sharon, what Val and John are planning, and all the other shenanigans to come.
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random-french-girl · 12 days ago
so, in ep1 of the wilds, while leah is giving her opening monologue we see clips of the other 8 girls and those are our first impressions of them and some are obvious what the impression is SUPPOSED to be (toni-angrily flipping a table, fatin-seductive and in control of her sexuality etc) but i never rly understood martha’s or shelby’s first clips. like i get that martha is on “inspo-instagram” to stay positive (?) and shelby is annoyed at andrew getting handsy during her spray tan for pageants but i don’t rly understand what basic assumptions about them are supposed to be made? idk maybe i’m just dumb and this isn’t rly a thing
Hi Anon! I don’t think you’re dumb at all, seems to me like you’ve got the gist of it, honestly! 
If I were to elaborate a bit on what you’ve said - and this is only my interpretation, I’m sure other people feel differently - I think we’re supposed to assume the following: 
Martha is sweet, and innocent, and still a bit childish (she’s in bed, dressed in comfy, colorful pajamas, petting a bunny, in a very cutely decorated bedroom). Her brand of positivity is naive, and a bit shallow, and it hides some more complicated emotions (she’s scrolling through inspo-instagram posts that have absolutely no substance, it’s just a pretty/positive aesthetic, and as she stares at her phone and likes these posts, she doesn’t seem particularly positive or happy herself - she looks unsure, and a bit troubled, actually, as if this were an obligation, almost). 
Shelby is a white, blond, thin, conventionally beautiful girl who is attached to her looks, and will put in a lot of work to keep looking like that (the spray-tanning, obviously). She’s not comfortable at all with her boyfriend touching her or expressing attraction to her body (she bats his hands away immediately, and takes control of the spray tanning so they can stay focused on task). In fact, she’s not really comfortable with him, in general (she can’t look at him when he stands close to her at first) but there is some ambivalence in her behavior as well, because for some reason she still wants him around (she doesn’t tell him to leave, and once she’s the one spray tanning herself, she even looks up at him, almost flirtily (?) before throwing her head back). 
I hope this helps!
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random-french-girl · 13 days ago
Hi! i just finished a rewatch of the wilds and i have confusion. i figured i would ask if you would mind sharing your thoughts because i love reading your meta/tags for this show. no obligation though.
my confusion relates to shoni. toni specifically. the scene in question is the one up on the cliff in episode ten after they get back to camp. specifically, toni's line of 'i don't think it have it in me to be scared about something that could be good' which she says in response to shelby saying she might end up hurting her if they pursue the relationship
i can't decide if this line is a bit ooc or if there has been a shift in her? the question never occurred to me before this rewatch, so maybe i've just been reading too many fics beforehand and it's blurred lines. but i question it because toni is presented as this closed shop who goes it alone because she has off the scale abandonment issues and the expectation of pain in her relationships. any thoughts on why is she so willing to let shelby in when shelby is sat there saying she has hurt people badly and can't guarantee it won't happen again?
Hello, Anon! First, I’m glad you enjoy my incessant ramblings about the show :)
On that scene, and that line specifically, and Toni. I understand your confusion! I think it stems from the fact that the show doesn’t really focus on Toni’s perspective re: her feelings for Shelby, and her relationship, sexual and romantic, with Shelby, after her initial hostility/jealousy.
Now that’s not to say we have zero idea about how Toni feels. After their first kiss, for example, I think it’s pretty clear that Toni feels very concerned, even a bit protective, of Shelby - that she understands the kind of struggle Shelby’s dealing with, and wishes to, if not directly help her, at least support her. And they have interactions after that, before the second kiss/ the lychee tree, where Toni is acting playful, teasing, nice, which is another indicator that she likes Shelby, and is willing to show it. 
But, and I think we can all agree, the big focal point of their relationship post-kiss, is Shelby. It induces Shelby’s breakdown, after all, it’s an important point in her character development. The second kiss/ the sex is about Shelby choosing to finally accept herself, and her desire/feelings for Toni, and act on them. And the morning after is about Shelby ruminating on what happened, happy but a bit overwhelmed/embarrassed. 
This whole arc is Shelby’s. Toni’s arc happened before. Compare even the conversations they have with their respective confidents about each other in episode 10 - Martha, for Toni, and Fatin, for Shelby. Toni’s little talk with Martha is a few sentences, where Martha checks in on her friend who had to spend alone time with a girl she, until very recently, overtly despised, and Toni says something super neutral, like “she’s alright”. It’s not, like, a super deep conversation, it’s a cute and funny exchange between Martha and Toni, to highlight how much has changed, and how much Martha doesn’t know. We don’t learn anything about Toni’s feelings that we didn’t know before. Whereas Shelby and Fatin’s conversation actually touches on something important: Shelby’s nervousness because she doesn’t know what their night together meant to Toni.
So, Toni’s feelings are kind of a mystery, to Shelby, and to us. And I think it’s partly intentional: because then we, the audience, just like Shelby, feel the full impact of that last conversation on the cliff, of that line, of a Toni who is so surprisingly mature and open. And it’s a good, and heartwarming surprise, for Shelby and for us! But I have to agree with you, it has the unfortunate effect of feeling a bit out of left-field, because we haven’t seen Toni articulate her feelings re:Shelby, until now. I don’t think it’s OOC - I think it’s a fascinating element of Toni’s characterization. This is a girl who is constantly on the defensive, expecting the worst to happen. And it makes sense that after 23 days on the island, the fact that the worst has already happened finally sinks in, and leaves her ready to drop all of her defenses, because what’s their use now, anyway? It didn’t protect her, in fact it almost cost her Martha. And she won’t let it cost her Shelby.
To conclude an already way-too long answer: even though I like this, a lot, for Toni, I do wish they’d spent a little more time on Toni’s side of the equation, in the second half of the show. Just so we had a better idea of the extent of her feelings/attraction for Shelby. I’m sure we’ll get a lot of that in season 2, though!
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mystickiddd · 14 days ago
You said send asks, so please may I present my thesis entitled...
Pre-existing marvel approved het ship ways they could make sambucky (even more) canon in one scene in their next appearance:
- About to head into a fight quick kiss (steve/peggy)
- Wake up in bed together/established cohabitation in louisiana (wanda/vision) (is this not already canon tho? 🤔)
- Kissing before splitting up for a mission with bonus young avengers/peter smiling knowingly reaction shot (Steve/Sharon)
- Sitting on a sofa with the nephews asking some Questions (happy/aunt may)
- Arguing/kissing on a roof after a big fight (pepper/tony)
- Someone opens a door to them agressively making out (hope/scott)
And it would be as much, if not more earned than any of these ships. 👌
omg i can literally imagine sam and bucky waking up in bed together one morning. like imagine bucky stopping over the wilsons’ home and staying the night there (because you know why not, he’s literally part of the family now). but instead of sleeping on the couch like he used to, he decides to go to sam’s room and sleep there instead. and of course, sam happily obliges (in fact, he’s literally been waiting for weeks for bucky to finally cuddle with him). and then in the morning, the sunlight is just shining on them through the window as they are entangled and and bucky’s arm is just wrapped around sam and aHhHhhsh i get so giddy just picturing this
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Keeping It Reel to Real In The Way I Feel
Welcome to the Late Night Show with Magnus Bane, and please welcome today's guest, this year's Emmy winner for his short film 'Nephilim', Alec Lightwood!
Read it on ao3
“So, Alec, let’s talk a bit about you.”
“Do we have to?” Alec flashes a practiced smile at the crowd, and the audience cheers on, laughing at his joke.
“Fortunately for all the fans and stans on the Internet, you’re contractually obliged to.” Magnus chuckles, then looks into camera one. “All your assumptions are right by the way, sitting up close, I can definitely see those cheekbones can cut glass.”
Alec blushes, laughing it off. “Good thing my cheekbones are not arranging a heist then.”
“If they do plan to, tell them I can play the femme fatale. I happen to look fabulous in a skirt.” Magnus winks, and the audience erupts in laughter.
Alec shakes his head at the man in front of him, lips curving up in a genuine smile. “I’m sure you look fabulous in everything.” 
The audience oohs and ahhs, and Magnus clutches his heart. “For that alone, I’ll post a picture later, thank Alec for that everyone. Now back to you.”
“Hoo boy.” Alec readjusts his position.
“That’s one way to put it.” Magnus nods at Alec. “Three consecutive Emmy winnings and a Tony award under your belt, and a multimillion dollar film franchise currently signing you, and you’re not even 30 yet. You’re the director everyone wants.” 
“I love my job and love doing it, and I think that translates in my work, that’s all.” Alec shrugs. “And I have an incredible team supporting me, they keep the whole thing running, it’s not just me, it’s a culmination of everyone’s hard work.”
“That has to feel very validating, then, seeing all these fantastic projects getting the praise of audiences and critics alike?”
Alec smiles. “Definitely.”
“How do you not let that get it to your head? I mean I’ve known directors who have crashed and burned the moment they got fame. How do you handle that?”
“My team keeps me honest.” Alec answers, eyes shining with pride. “To be frank, most of them are people I’ve grown up with, and I know people talk about the problems with working with family or friends but so far I’ve been very lucky to have smooth sailing.” Alec’s voice turns playful. “And once people have seen you in bandages after your brother’s shaving lesson gone wrong, and seen you get embarrassed in front of your high school crush, you really can’t go back from that and be like a big hotshot or something. They can and will ground you back to reality, and take delight in doing it.”
Magnus laughs heartily, before focusing back. “So what’s next in store for you? Is there something specific you’d like to pursue?”
“I would really like to do a rom com.” Alec smiles at the crowd once they ooh and aah over his answer. “I know I’ve been mostly doing dramas, but I read this book a few months back, and it just stuck with me, and I would love to bring it to the screen.”
“Anything you can tell us about it?” Magnus stage-whispers. “Or is all very hush hush for the time being?”
Alec grins. “I can tell you it’s kind of a political romance, but it’s a truly fresh and dare I say a millennial take on love, while maintaining the classic tropes.”
“Sounds promising.” 
“It’s also a lgbtq story.” Alec adds.
“Are you taking producers?” Magnus asks, the crowd laughing. “Because this sounds amazing.”
“Not yet.” Alec chuckles. “The author has given permission, and I’m still in the screenwriting part. As you know my brother-in-law Simon Lewis the head of the screenwriting team, and with him on vacation with Jace, things are going a bit slower.” Alec admits.
“Anything else you tell us?” Magnus asks.
“I can tell you that I’ve gotten two casting on the way, I’m not gonna say who, but I know people are going to love watching those two interact with each other.” Alec’s eyes shine with mirth. “I can’t wait to announce the cast after everything is done.”
“I can’t wait to watch this movie.” Magnus smiles. “Which you’d be watching wiiiith-”
Magnus stares at Alec meaningfully, the latter returning the gaze with equal intensity. “Oh come on, give us something. Is there a new man in your life? What is Alec Lightwood’s current status?”
“Magnus. ” Alec glares playfully.
“The internet wants answers, and I think we all deserve to know.” Magnus tries to persuades the man. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I’m not throwing the man I love to the world to scrutinize and torment, Magnus. You’re not getting anything out of me.” Alec makes a motion of zipping up his lips.
“The man you love, huh?” The crowd oohs, and Magnus faces the main camera. “Well then, whoever he is, Mr Boyfriend, you are certainly the talk of the internet, maybe drop us a few hints?” He winks exaggeratedly. “You are a lucky guy.”
“I’m the lucky one, trust me.” Alec shares a small smile with the host.
“Wow, award winning director, and stealth romance attacker, you’ve got quite the resume Mr Lightwood.” Alec ducks his head at the compliment, a sweet blush on his cheeks. 
“Well, this is Magnus Bane with this year’s Emmy winner Alec Lightwood, and you’re watching The Late Night Show With Magnus Bane . Thank you for watching, and hope to see you again next week. Have a terrific weekend.”
The audience erupts in applause, and the cameras switch off one by one, crew members running around now that the show’s over. Magnus turns fully to his guest, both getting their mic out of the way. “Thank you for joining us.”
“Thanks for having me.” Alec nods. “I don’t always enjoy talk shows, but it’s always a pleasure to have you on the desk.”
“It certainly would be, wouldn’t it?” Magnus smirks, and the boom operator roars with laughter, completely missing look passed between the two men.
Magnus rushes to the door the moment the bell rings, and Alec wastes no time pushing him up against the door as soon as he’s let in, lips immediately latching on to Magnus’s neck .
“Such a smartass.” Alec sucks on a spot on Magnus’s throat that he knows drives him insane, and sure as hell, Magnus throws back his head with a thud on the wooden door. “Asking me all those questions when you know I can’t answer.”
“You’re the internet’s sweetheart, have to give the fans something. ” Magnus answers cheekily.
“You’re a brat.” Alec says flat out, pulling away from the kiss, interrupting Magnus when he chases his lips.
“You love me.” Magnus answers, mischief glinting in his eyes. Alec shakes his head fondly.
“I do.”
“I love you too, Alexander.”
Magnus’s legs wrap around Alec’s torso, and Alec pushes off the doorframe, carrying his weight in a practiced gait. “Now I remember some promises involving you and a desk.”
Magnus can’t help the grin that overtakes him, and doesn’t try either. Instead, he lets himself be carried by his very handsome, very talented, very strong boyfriend, the night’s promises lighting passion in both their veins.
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carelessannie · 16 days ago
steve x ofc (maybe it goes like this: dating and mating)
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Bucky x Clint | Steve x Annie | Tony x Clint | Peter x Bucky | Tony x Annie | Clint x Steve | Bucky x Annie | Peter x Steve
Read on A03
Read the main story on AO3 and Tumblr
Read the Stuckony backstory
Word count: 1K
Steve x Annie (if you’ve read MiGLT, she’s my ofc)
Before bonding, all six packmates are determined to get to know each other. Steve really likes Annie, but feels pressured to woo her before they take a step further.
Major warnings: D/S Au, ABO Au, unapologetic fluff and cute dates
Maybe it goes like this:
Steve spent three weeks working up the courage to ask Annie out. Bucky still won’t let him live it down. He’s had enough of his idiot mate’s heckling— it’s worth it to take her out right.
It’s also a shame that Annie and Clint go into the city during the week and are usually busy when they’re at the house. Because of this, Steve wants to make tonight the best for his pretty Omega, and he doesn’t give a shit if Bucky thinks he’s being a sap.
Maybe he likes being a sap.
He makes sure to hold her hand the whole time and keep eye contact. A few times, Annie gives him a questioning look when she catches him staring— but honestly, he can’t help it. It’s been so long since he’s dated a woman, and she’s so beautiful. Different than Bucky and Peter in her easy femininity and grace, although no less gorgeous.
Lost in his thoughts about her, he almost misses her ask, “Where are we going, Steve?”
“Oh, uh… it’s kind of a surprise.”
She lightly hits his arm, squeezing his hand, “Okay, okay— keep your secrets, Alpha.”
They stroll around Central Park for awhile before Steve leads them across Gapstow Bridge, up the path, and stops at—
“Oh my god— Steve. It’s still open?” Annie squeals, yanking on his hand, “is this the surprise?”
He chuckles, following her towards the entrance of the ice skating rink, “Yeah, it is. It’s actually the last weekend that Wollman’s is open for the season, so I thought we would—”
“LET’S GO, Steve! C’mon!”
And her enthusiasm ends up being completely justified. She doesn’t even pretend to need help on her skates, and jumps on the ice before he even laces his.
Steve, on the other hand—
“Oof!” he grunts, landing on his ass for the third time.
Ice skating is the work of the devil.
Annie skates up to him, stumbling a bit when she sees him as laughter bubbles out, bright and happy.
“Why are you so bad at this?”
He pouts. He knows it’s sad— a full-ass, Alpha male defeated by just a pair of blades and a sheet of ice.
Asking for help is pointless. The first time Annie tried to pull him up, she ended up sprawled in a heap across his lap. Instead, he sets his shoulders, pulls himself to his knees, and gets a grip on the wall— heaving himself up as he clings to the short, concrete barrier.
“I think,” he pants, getting his feet under him, “I think I need help.”
She’s immediately next to him, slipping under his arm, and adding support to his left side. Her arm snakes around his waist, and he buries his nose in her curly hair. Oh man.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, breathing her sweet Strawberry and Salted Caramel scent.
There’s a little laugh, and she kisses his hand, sending sparks up his arm, “Happy to help, Alpha.”
They skate like that, together, for the rest of their time there, leaning into each other and enjoying the other’s scent. Annie tells him a little about her childhood pack, and Steve tells her about his Ma.
Later, when the skates are off and the two of them are walking through the zoo across the street, Steve looks down into her eyes— soaking in the gentle submission from his beautiful date, and watching her eyelashes flutter under his gaze.
“Did you ever see yourself being mated, Annie?”
She hums in thought, “Most of my life I knew I would be. I never imagined being so compatible with the people I love, and everything about this process feels so right.”
Steve appreciates her words, and turns towards her, putting his arm around her waist to pull her closer.
“Annie, I don’t want you to feel obliged to my pack. I know you love Peter and Clint, and have some natural chemistry with Buck, but you should know that I want you in my pack all the same. You balance us, you center us— hell, you’re strong enough to keep me in check. I value your submission and… I have grown to care for you a hell of a lot. I want to ask you, officially, to be a part of my pack— our pack— not just as a member or mate, but as my bonded. Would you, Annie?”
Her eyes are wide, but there’s a distinct HappyExcitedOmega scent filling the air. Still, she seems unsure.
“Steve, I— can I have some time to think about it?”
Trying not to show his disappointment, Steve nods, “Of course, Omega, please— take all the time you need. I know Tony wants the same with you, too. Just take some time to know us better, okay?”
“Okay, Alpha,” she grins, giving him a wink, “why don’t we go look at the penguins?”
He takes her hand back, “Sounds good, darling, whatever you’d like.”
It’s not until a week and a half later, when Steve gets home from work, that he suddenly has his arms full of excited Omega shouting, “Yes! Yes, Steve, yes!”
They settle together on the couch, just the two of them for once, and Annie starts kissing and sucking on his neck.
“What… what, Annie? What is this about?” he groans, reluctant to stop her eager kisses.
She pulls off his neck with a pop! and is absolutely beaming, “Alpha, I wanna bond with you. I decided— I do, I really wanna bond with you.”
Steve feels confused, “Good, sweetheart, I’m so happy… what, uh. What changed your mind?”
“My dad just called me.”
“... oh.”
“I can’t believe you went to see my parents!”
“I mean,” Steve shrugs, “of course I did. I asked for their permission— it’s the right thing to do, Annie.”
“I know. And that’s why I want to bond with you, Steve.”
At this, she thrusts forward her left hand—
“I’ll take my ring now.”
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thesharondefenseleague · 16 days ago
For when people started making a theisis to defend their ship i think that became a thing when being fake woke and finding probematic things in ships became a part of ship wars. So pre emptively shippers got defensive and made counter arguments to avoid salty antis and ship in peace.
But another big factor is treating fan content creators like they are making canon.
Fan content is very big on shipping. Even huge epic story rewrites often end up focused on one or a few few romantic couples. Even if the original story wasn't. Its not always like that but it often is.
And fan content is more interested in exploring on whst wasn't in canon rather than what was. So often non canon ships get more focus. Which is fine. Except that people as a whole are very deeply involved in fandom possibly more than canon and want more content with their favorite in fandom. So they talk about importance of including their favorite character or ship the way people often do when talking about canon.
These fan creators aren't just rewriting the story they are exploring what they are most passionate about. If there is a love triangle between x characters x y and z and the fandom is primarily interested in the romantic relationship between x and y then there isn't a very big place for z in those types of fic or art. And rare pair hell sucks.
But they aren't writing canon just exploring what they most interested in and that just might not be your fav and they aren't obligated to include your fav.
But i think they feel obligated to acknowledge and comment on and pander to other characters or ships they dont like.
Like i hate Steve's ending and it makes me hate Steggy. But if you want to focus on Steve and Peggy's relationship you aren't obligated to comment or focus on or acknowledge his love for Sharon or Bucky or Tony or Sam or whoever in your fancontent.
If i ship SteveTony or whatever i don't have to "acknowledge" and give weight to Steggy's existence if i don't want to.
But there is this pressure on content creators to give that acknowledgement hence the thesis and the disclaimers and the explanations for just liking their ship.
I feel old, because I remember being a teen in fandom years before joining tumblr and there was never ship wars that involved taking down other characters but rather treating each character with equal respect and zero hate. And I’ve never seen that happen since. Absolutely tragic.
I agree that the thesis era does come with everyone getting into ship wars because there was no longer this idea of “I like these two together”, but rather “I like these two together but I swear if that other bitch touches him I’m going to lose it”. Which is weird. And then that evolved into finding excuses to keep that other character excluded from your ship. So the main way was to force your view of that relationship into “they’re like a sibling! I could never get with them!” (especially with male characters of color), making them the most evil person possible to turn your fans against them (saw this with Pepper a lot back around 2014), or killing them off (which has been faded out). OR, speaking of rarepairs, pairing off characters just so they can’t possibly interrupt your ship. As an example, I’ve never seen a genuine person writing Sam/Natasha and meaning it. It was always to keep Sam away from Steve and Natasha away from Bucky in the shipper’s mind.
Honestly, what this all boils down to -- the theses, the treating fanon like canon, the demonization of characters only to justify your ships and not because you actually like any of these characters -- is that everyone maybe needs to take more time away from the internet and explore something else. I’ve stepped out of ship wars 3-4 years ago, and it feels so good not to deal with it. I’ve stopped responding, just blocking, and no longer feel that I need to be on the attack to defend ships and characters every single day. (Though I will keep bringing up that this fandom loves that N@zi because it’s part-fandom needs to not do that, part-Marvel needs to stop humanizing them. Funny how it was a big deal in 2015 and 2017, but now we can brush it off.) And it also gives me the chance to not be angry at people so I can have more reasonable responses.
Also these are Marvel characters we are talking about. Almost every single one has hit or attempted to kill each other at some point. Just ship what you want and go, don’t gatekeep who likes who, and if you don’t like certain ships then good for you, just stop hating on the characters and putting down others for it. At the end of the day, this is all probably Markus/McFeely’s fault for being the worst screenwriters ever.
~Mod R
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lovelyavengers · 17 days ago
Oohhhh for your ficlet request thingie (idk what to call it lol) what about 1 from angst and 7 with Natasha Romanoff? Of course don't feel obligated to do it!
thank for sending this in! i hope you like it 💕
words: 795
prompts: “I can’t do anything right.” & “Please just kiss me already.”
Call My Bluff
natasha romanoff masterlist // spring ficlets masterlist
“Y/N, when are you ever going to admit that you’re in love with her?” Wanda asked as she took a sip of her coffee. The two of you were actually on an undercover mission to scout out potential HYDRA executives, but when you’re also sitting at a really nice cafe, it was easy to get distracted and off-topic.
“I’m not in love with her.”
She raised her eyebrows at you. “Keep telling yourself that. You’re going to have to admit to it one day.”
“No I’m not.”
“Why not?” Wanda asked, obviously exasperated. “She likes you too, you know.”
“Wanda, I can’t do anything right,” you said, looking her in the eye. “The fact that they haven’t kicked me off the team yet is astounding, and there is absolutely no way anyone pays any attention to me, let alone Natasha.”
“You’re difficult, you know that?”
Before you could answer, Tony’s voice came through your earpiece. “Wanda, Y/N, are we seeing anything?”
“Not yet,” Wanda reported.  “The meeting should be ending any time now, so hopefully we can get our eyes on everyone as they walk out.”
You and Wanda waited for a little while longer, and after what seemed like forever people finally started to trickle out of the building across the street. You took a sip of your drink and tried to act inconspicuous, but there was a growing feeling of worry in your stomach.  You looked over towards the men, and you locked eyes with one of them by accident. You hoped he didn’t recognize you, but you weren’t that lucky.  He took out his phone and typed something, and you knew everything was about to go wrong. Seconds later, the sound of a gunshot rang out through the street, and it took you a moment to realize it was you that had gotten shot. HYDRA must have been expecting some kind of reconnaissance, and they had snipers in place. Adrenaline was running through your body, and you looked down at your shoulder to see blood start to soak the shirt you were wearing, and your shoulder started to sting.  
This was definitely a first for you. You had been injured on missions before, but you had never gotten shot before. You didn’t hear another shot, so you hoped Wanda was okay. Moments later, the world started to go fuzzy. I thought I was stronger than this, you thought, feeling yourself slip completely from the world.
You didn’t know how long you had been asleep, but you awoke to the harsh lighting of the medical bay, and you immediately struggled to sit yourself up. No one else was in the room, but just as you managed to sit straight, the door opened. “Y/N, what on earth are you doing?”
It was Natasha who had spoken. She was holding a cup of coffee and she looked tired, like she hadn’t slept for days. “I just wanted to sit up,” you said. You hadn’t even registered the question of why she was here in the first place, since your brain was still a little fuzzy.
“You shouldn’t move around too much,” Natasha said, walking over to stand by your bedside. “It might pop your stitches.”
“I got stitches?”
“Yeah, Helen Cho was here, and she helped remove the bullet and stitch you back up. She’s gone now, but she left us instructions to take care of you. It was a really close shot, I - we were worried you might not wake up.”
You noticed her stumble over her words, and decided to push the topic a little. “You were worried about me?” you asked, feeling bolder than usual.
She hesitated before answering. “Y/N, I’m always worried about you. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to the person I loved and I wasn’t there to protect you.”
You desperately hoped you were reading this right, and you reached out weakly to take her hand. You could see the worry in her eyes as you spoke. “You love me?” She must not have even realized what she admitted too, because her eyes widened, and then she nodded slightly. “Really?” you asked.
“I’m sorry if I-” she started to say, but you squeezed her hand tighter, causing her to trail off halfway through.
“I love you too,” you said, and it felt like time stood still. You were staring into each other’s eyes, and you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Maybe it was whatever the IV in your arm was giving you, but you felt a lot braver than you ever had before. “Please, just kiss me already,” you whispered, and you saw a smile cross her face.
You didn’t have to ask twice.
- the end -
***this is my sideblog. i reply to any direct comments on this post from my main blog @fandomsandxfiles***
Marvel/Agent Carter: @space-helen @cap-n-stuff @captainsophiestarkwriting @spn-stuff @marinettepotterandplagg @xixxiixx @mitsumikirigakure @tdbooth @graneo02 @gollumgayghost @itsbqueenthings @polireader
Marvel/Agent Carter Women: @startrekkingaroundasgard @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov 
Natasha Romanoff: @natasha-danvers @korrynn-nadine @waywardwifey @gerim-1995 @athenaahufflepuff 
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❖rules for requesting❖
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
characters and fandoms
✧american horror story✧
any character up until hotel, just ask and i'll probably do it
all characters except carol danvers cause idk how to write her
i dont feel comfortable writing anything romantic with tony stark, but platonic or familial works
all characters from the movies, just ask and i'll do it
any characters from the movies
✧what i will write✧
triggering topics such as self harm, eating disorders, mental illness, etc.
✧what i wont write✧
smut of any kind(im a minor)
dark fanfiction
celebrities, i only write for fictional characters
non-con, yandere, anything like that
anything i don't wanna write. if your request makes me uncomfortable, im not obligated to write it. i will prioritise my own well-being.
❖if you have any other questions about requests, just send me a message in my inbox or pm and i'll gladly respond ❖
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thepartyresponsible · 19 days ago
i would so love to hear about the justified one
i’ve only seen a few seasons of justified, but i was reflecting on the hilarity of steve rogers and raylan givens in a jurisdictional slapfight (which is less about respecting jurisdictional regulations and more about using that as a smokescreen while they sidewind like a pair of mongooses after the same snake) when i stumbled into the idea of clint barton and tim gutterson.
so here’s part of a story about two blonde smalltown snipers who share burdens like: shitty fathers, perfect aim, ptsd, survivor’s guilt, and being caught in the orbit of distinctly american heroes who are 100% lawful good, provided they get to write all of those laws themselves.
Some homegrown Hydra-allied terrorist rabbits off to eastern Kentucky when SHIELD shows up with leading questions about his associates. He incinerates half a block of Columbia Heights on his way out, kills two SHIELD agents and upwards of four dozen civilians. Tony and Bruce comb through the area afterwards and come to the conclusion that the weapon was built from modified Chitauri tech, which makes this Avengers’ business.
Which is why it is simultaneously ludicrous and charming that the U.S. Marshals office in Lexington, Kentucky opts to be downright inhospitable when the Avengers arrive.
“Are we seriously having a jurisdictional dispute right now?” Clint asks. “You know this guy fucks around with alien weapons?”
The answer to the first question appears to be an affable hell yes, we are. The answer to the second is: maybe so, but he fucked around with us first.
“Gentlemen,” Chief Deputy Art Mullen says, “ma’am, we’ll be happy to oblige your request for information the moment we receive the clearance to do so.”
Clint hasn’t been told to fuck off so politely since the last time he asked Pepper Potts if she wanted sugar in her coffee.
“You know,” Tony says, fidgety in the cheap government chairs, bored and impatient, “the only thing stopping us from taking every piece of information you have is professional respect.”
The Marshal in the cowboy hat tips his head toward the Marshal with the military background. “I believe,” he says, tone low but not nearly low enough to be unintelligible from across the room, “that we just received a threat to our data security.”
“Terrifying,” the blonde says, with a slow, catlike blink.
“That’s how I feel,” the hat says. “Terrified. Real shaken up. Might need a personal day.”
He smiles when he turns back, and he’s got a nice face, Clint thinks. The smile fits him well. A sarcastic little twist of his mouth, knowing and nonchalant, almost dismissive. His eyes are warm, though. Friendly, not amiable. It’s an expression that conveys a lot of things, the most relevant of which is a stubborn conviction that nobody in this meeting is going to walk away with all of what they want, except for him.
He’s the trouble point, Clint thinks. He’s the line they’ll need to push. How much leverage it’ll take to move him is still anyone’s guess.
The other Marshal, the blonde, leans back in his seat and breathes out. He looks over at Clint, eyebrow cocked, no hint of a smile in his eyes or mouth, and that’s when Clint knows exactly how onerous this Appalachian road trip is about to get.
Because he knows that expression. He saw it on Tony’s face, when Steve got fussy about the Accords. Rhodes trots it out every time Tony goes lone ranging around and nearly wipes the Stark bloodline off the face of the planet. Clint caught it from Coulson, whenever Strike Team Delta decided to initiate a few mid-op rewrites of the parameters and objectives of their mission. He clocked it in the mirror, every day for weeks after Steve and Sam brought the Winter Soldier home.
That, he knows, is the face of a man who is being dragged right into the riptide of someone else’s bullshit. And he’s suiting up instead of swimming free, resigning himself to a battle he didn’t choose but won’t leave.
That’s loyalty. That is stubborn, longsuffering, locked-in loyalty.
Clint should’ve packed more socks. They’re going to be here for a while.
He asks the blonde for a phone charger. “I’m at 5%,” he confides, as the blonde roots obliging through his desk. “Didn’t bring a charger. Figured we’d be gone by sundown.”
“Still could be,” the blonde says.
Clint grins, bites it back. He acknowledges that he’s probably not supposed to be over here, fraternizing with the enemy. It’s just been a while since enemy was such a low stakes term. “You want us gone, you just gotta tell us where Feldman is. Soon as we have him, we’ll be out of this state. This whole region, I promise.”
The blonde – Gutterson, he’d said, although Clint heard the others call him Tim – looks up at him. He doesn’t give much away. He’s harder to read than Givens is, although Clint hasn’t called yet whether that’s because he’s less mercurial by nature or because he puts more work into hiding.
He speaks quietly. He moves quietly. He’s not military the way Steve is. He’s military like Barnes, likes Rhodes. Like Sam, when he’s around other military types.
Which doesn’t mean much, really, except that the training took.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gutterson says. He’s holding a charging cord in his hand. When he passes it to Clint, the touch lasts a half second longer than it needs to. “Don’t know that I want y’all to leave just yet.”
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