#cosmo jarvis is so hot

[cosmosbabydoll]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩. 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

!!PORN LINKS!! MDNI!!!!!

This includes Tommy, Elliott, Sam, Erik, and Frank

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭

Munch Elliott<33

Welcome home sex

His facial hair tickles

He misses you during deployment

He’s so much bigger than you

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲

Tommy loves getting videos of you when he’s away

He loves looking up at you

He’s too tired and says you do it better anyway

Riding his pretty face

Barracks sex

Seeing how fast he would finish after deployment

𝐑𝐚𝐲

He can’t help but miss you when he’s away

Ray likes taking his time with you

He makes sure to mark you up before he leaves

He got jealous when you went out. Had to make sure you knew you’re his.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

Sam is an absolute MUNCH.

Sometimes he just needs to bite into you

Morning sex makes waking up easier

Seeing who could last longer

Your ass is the perfect ramp

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤

He wants to come back home to you with a baby bump

You were being a brat. Touching him in public.

He loves your ass

Making a video for him to come back to

You tricked him into submission

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤

Frank needs some help keeping his eyes on the road

You waited for him at the door in only lacy lingerie

What can he say. You sitting in his passenger seat got too distracting.

He loves seeing him fill you up

@cosmosbabydoll

[vadersaber]

I'd say it's a stronger mix of Tom Hardy and Aaron Taylor Johnson, but I definitely see it either way!

I'm watching Shogun (FX) and the main white guy is the most curious mix of Tom Hardy (voice, how he carries himself, face-ish), Josh Hutcherson (face), and Seth Rogen (height, lower face with the beard).

[unkindnessesofone]

Hot Wire

Words: 2.9k. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, swearing, smut, smut, smut. Notes: This is my first time writing for Warfare, just wrote what came. This has nothing to do with the real person, just Cosmo Jarvis in the movie with the name 'Elliot'. That's it. That's all.

If you couldn't see Elliot's truck parked right outside your house through the window, you would have assumed the person knocking on the door was trying to escape a chainsaw-wielding murderer and had chosen your bungalow as their place to hide. 

Excessive and urgent, Elliot's fist rapped against the door. A door he had adjusted the hinges on last summer. A door he had walked through countless times. A door he had a key to. Words failed to explain just how irritated he was that he had to knock before entering his own home, but his fist was doing an exceptional job.

His hand fell through the air as you finally opened the door, exposing a small foyer that looked foreign to him for a moment since it didn't have his shoes or bag thrown on the floor.

“Elliot, what are you -”

��Why the hell did you call Erik to fix the house?” The question flew out of his mouth, spit sputtering behind it. 

“I didn't. And it's not fixing the house. It's replacing wall plugs.” His eyes turned off the drill they were using to search yours and you watched as they darted around behind your head, looking for something. It was one month and a day since you told him to leave, asking for space, so you supposed this emotional drop-in was not completely strange. It was bound to happen eventually. “Do you want to come in?”

“Into my own house? That I literally pay the mortgage for?” He muttered while stepping in, kicking off his sneakers immediately. 

Following you into the house, noting its unusual spotless state, Elliot clocked the small plastic Menards bag on the kitchen table next to a glass of wine. As if he was half fire-breathing dragon, a huff fled his nostrils as he took the outlets out and examined them.

“It's the two in the bathroom. They stopped working a couple days ago.”

Elliot diligently nodded and went to work, going to the garage first for his tools and then taking over the bathroom. As soon as he went in, the scent of your body lotion rushed up his nose and the fire in his belly flickered lower. He wasn't angry at you for asking someone else for help. He was just hurt. The corner of the sink countertop stabbed his hip, reminding him that this bathroom was not made for a man of his size. He didn't fit in the tub, but sometimes insisted on joining you in there even if it meant throwing his leg over the edge uncomfortably. The bathroom was meant to be the first renovation when you two bought the starter home, but other projects and expenses always popped up. It occurred to him now that it may never be scratched off his to-do list. It could become someone else's task.

Changing the electrical plugs was a straightforward swap. Elliot estimated he was crouched down in the bathroom for less than a half hour. It was enough time for him to calm down. The distraction of using his hands and an screwdriver lowered his blood pressure. In fact, he felt sort of proud that you had purchased the correct ones by yourself instead of focusing on the fact that that meant you might not need him. Hardware store runs had always fallen under his jurisdiction even if you sometimes came along. He was the one calling the shots up and down the aisles even in the plant nursery. 

Once upright, Elliot put his tools away in the bed of his truck. He wasn't enjoying staying at his sister's place, but he figured the least he could do is be useful while he was there and take on some of her home repairs. It would mean less time spent as a human jungle gym to his nieces and nephew. 

“All done.” He walked right to where the living room and kitchen met and reported to you, looking at the old plugs in his hand. 

“Okay. Thank you.” You had to swallow your sip of wine quickly to answer, lips wet at the center from doing so. 

“Why didn't you call me?” Perhaps, someone who didn't know him as well would miss the note of agony in his voice.  They would just hear a simple question. It rang out to you above his baritone, impossible to ignore. “You're still my -” He stopped himself, catching the word as it reached his glistening teeth. Elliot swiped the bag off the table and put the two white outlets inside. “This is still my house.” He corrected himself. 

“I didn't call Erik. I ran into him at the store and then he offered.” Obviously, he had been told that you and your husband were taking a break. “I'll call him and tell him it's done. That his help is not required.” Putting down your wine glass, you turned for the phone that sat by the coffee pot and ceramic sugar container. “Thank you again by the way. It'll be nice to go to work with dry hair tomorrow.” 

You were signing him out, a monotone signal that said: ‘You know where the door is. See yourself out.’. 

Elliot began to leave, but he didn't even make it past the coffee table before he was stomping back toward you, crossing the threshold between rooms.

“Can we talk?” Three words he had never arranged in this order leapt from his mouth. “You said I don't communicate….” He attempted to explain, hand in front of him assisting as you slowly turned around, looking at him like you were concerned he had lost his mind. Your husband had never asked to talk before, but he had asked if you two could stop talking many times. “I'm here. I'm trying to talk.” 

Placing the phone back on its cradle, you leaned against the counter and gestured to the laminate tiles as if to tell him he had the floor before picking up your wine again.

“I know my job is a problem. I’m away a lot and I get moody before deployment,” He was leaving in a month to Iraq and, while being a Seal seemed to give him both pride and purpose, the time leading up was difficult. “And you have to hold things down alone…and then I come back and it takes a while until I’m settled…” This was not rehearsed. He was going off the fly, trying to open up as you had asked and begged him to for ages. His mouth felt uncomfortable and his words were jumbled. It seemed like both of you weren’t sure where this was going to go. Elliot trailed off before widening his eyes at you and throwing out a finger, “You know, your job isn’t great either.” This was more familiar territory. Elliot could only focus on his own wrongdoings for so long before turning the situation around. “You think I like knowing my wife is rubbing down other guys all day?”

“Yeah, you’ve said that.” You two had had this argument before, usually in his truck when he picked you up from work and one devastating time at the beach when you ran into a regular client who was glistening in the sun like he was born from it with a body so perfect that it could have been the first draft of Michaelangelo’s David. He had felt instantly aware of every hair on his body as this poreless guy in short red swim trunks enveloped you in a hug while going on about how you were the only person who could work the kinks out of his lower back. ‘Your wife is a goddess’, he told Elliot with a smirk so cocky that it was clear he had no idea how close to being punched in the face he actually was. “It’s really insulting to me when you make it sound like I give tug jobs for a living. I was in massage therapy school when we met. It’s in-sane that you act like this is a new thing.” Eventually, you were going to want to sit down and have a conversation with your husband about the next steps. The separation phase was never supposed to be permanent. It was just breathing room. Unfortunately, now you were fighting and that conversation felt even more open-ended. 

Elliot didn’t have anything to say, biting at his gums, he watched as you stalked over to the fridge to pull out the bottle of wine for another glass. You reached up on your tip toes out of habit, not necessity and he cracked his neck to the side, watching your breasts momentarily jiggle as you moved. 

“Are you seeing someone?” 

“What?!” You wanted to ask him if he needed his head checked, but the question was clear in your eyes. “No, Elliot. We’ve been separated for a month.”

“I don’t know. Your outfit, the wine.” His chin like a laserpoint, he gestured to both.

“Yeah, I was going to woo Erik with my nine dollar bottle of pink Moscato, you caught me.” He hated when you were sarcastic with him. Disdain from you was reserved for your friend’s narrow-minded husband or the employees at the DMV, not him. “And I wouldn’t wear this on a date. You should know that. You dated me.” These were the secondhand Lululemons you commonly wore to work and a tank top that you only used for sleep and yardwork. Turning around, you began to pour yourself a very generous glass.

“That’s not fucking funny.” He was almost in your face now, removing the polite space you two had been keeping. “Don’t joke about getting together with one of my friends-” You would never. Erik would never. Logic wasn’t exactly computing for Elliot right now. 

“God, Elliot, I haven’t seen you in a month and you pick a fight!” Putting the twist-cap back on the bottle, you whined. “I will call you when I’m ready to talk, but you have to -”  

His hips pressed into you, sandwiching you between his weight and the counter. Your hands flattened against it as he huffed in your ear, “I don’t want to talk. I want you. I want my wife.” He was growling, low and dour, a large hand sliding over your hip and then holding your stomach. Elliot felt like a mess and he could not stand it. The idea of being deployed without knowing if he was coming back to you or his sister’s couch (or worse, a soulless apartment complex by the river) was driving him crazy. You weren’t squirming underneath him, instead he felt your breath steady and your head move back, hanging just slightly to his shoulder. It felt so good, so comforting, to know he wasn’t the only one who missed being this close. “You smell so fucking good.” Biting down on his molars, he groaned before burying his face where your neck met your chest. His unkept facial hair was like sandpaper against your skin as he sucked and pecked at one of your most tender spots. He had discovered it when you two first hooked up and the way you gasped now sounded exactly the same as it had that night on his couch. “No, you haven’t been with anyone. Nobody’s touched you…” His hand gripped at the center of your shirt, balling the material together in his fist and yanking it down, allowing your breasts to spring free. “Still mine.” He breathed and licked at what he could reach of your clavicle, his hands both going down to your thighs and then your ass, reclaiming curves that he had marked as his a long time ago. 

“E…” 

“Say what you want. You got to tell me what you want.” 

You were panting under his touch. It was too much for words to break through. Elliot took one hand off your thigh and gracelessly put his four fingers in your wine glass before directing them into your mouth, only three digits making it in, “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want…”. The sugar sweet taste of the pink wine was mixed clashed with the texture of his calloused fingers, but yet it was so satisfying. He wiped his fingers on your chin before down to your chest, feeling his way around you. 

“I want you.” Softly, you managed to say. It was a mystery to you as your brain was not present. This was strictly desire and feeling. “God, I want you.” If he hadn’t been at the ready before, you could feel it pushing against the small of your back now, Elliot’s determined arousal, large and confident. 

He tugged on your pants and brought them down to your knees, taking his palm wet from wine and your mouth and reaching into your underwear, grinning like a Chesire Cat at the warmth he found. He slipped one finger in, but you shook your head.

“No, just fuck me, Elliot. I want you to fuck me right now.”

He had never been precious about foreplay before, so he wasn’t about to start now. He slapped at your breasts as you bent further over the counter and went straight to undoing his belt and the rest of his jeans while you stepped out of your pants completely. He pumped his shaft, one-two-three, and then slid it inside you - slow at first and then all at once. A string of delicate whispered yeses danced out of your open mouth as Elliot held your hips sturdy and railed into you. More than he missed this, he had just missed you. His wife. It was as if he was trying to pull you two together so tightly that it would be too painful to come apart. 

“You are my wife.” He wasn’t reminding you because you hadn’t forgotten. It was a declaration. “My. wife.” He gasped before bowing his head to yours, sealing your open mouth with a kiss that he was starving for. “Fuck.” Loudly, he grunted before his wet cock slipped out. He rushed to turn you around, helping you up onto the counter with both hands under your bum. Once precariously placed, he admired the snug spot that he had just been pounding into. Elliot slanted forward and kissed you again, your pussy pressed against his shirt before he stood back up at attention and spat at your already sleek slit and reentered, holding one of your legs as the other rested over his shoulder.

“Cum. Cum for me.” He directed while looking back and forth between your wide eyes and your middle finger rubbing at your clit. The sights only encouraged him to buck into you faster, heavier. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

Instead, you came together. Elliot had intended to pull out and spray his load over your mound or your stomach, some sort of visual that you were still his, but it felt so good to be connected again, together, that he let himself go. Slowly, you slid off the surface with his help and felt the cold floor on your feet. You slid your hands under his shirt as you two rocked from side to side together, just for a couple beats while you came down. 

“Oh my God…” Sighing, you wiped at your face. He was watching you,  waiting with eager eyes for you to say that all was forgiven and any issue was now resolved. 

“We’re so good together…” He whispered, his hands on your back to keep you from swaying away, looking down at your breasts as he stepped on the discarded clothes on the floor.

 “Sex has never been a problem for us.”

“Let me come home and work on what the problem is.” He moaned, head back in a second of frustration. The silence felt like porcelain as it took over, like if he dared to test it it would immediately break into a hundred small pieces. He blinked rapidly as he swore he saw you nod your head, like a kid who just heard the word ‘Disneyland’ or something. Softly, you laughed and nodded again.

“Okay, if you really mean it, that you will work on it before you deploy, yeah, come home.” 

Smashing his mouth against yours, he kissed you deeply, tasting the Moscato that he usually never wanted a glass of for himself. Right now, it was exactly the right flavor. He held you close in the kitchen and made a mental promise to himself that he would do everything he could to put you two in a good, strong place before he left. He was going to renovate the bathroom. He was going to work on opening up and not being a dick about little things you couldn’t control. 

“Shit.” Interrupting his planning, you hissed over his shoulder. 

“What? What?” Elliot turned his head and tried to find what you were looking at. It didn’t take long for him to see through the living room window that Erik was getting out of his car. 

“The window is open.” Through grit teeth, you stated, really wishing you used the blinds more. “We’re naked and it probably smells like sex in here.” 

“Yeah, it does." Pleased as punch with himself, Elliot hummed. "I’ll deal with it.” Pulling up his underwear and then his jeans, Elliot headed to the door with a stupid-happy smile stamped on his face and his fly open. He turned the handle, pulled the door open, and greeted his friend, proudly, like his presence alone said: This is my house where I live with my wife and everything is going to be okay.

[highwaydiamonds]

Nearly everyone involved with Netflix's Persuasion should be slapped in the face with a glove. They have insulted us with drivel on screen, and I, for one, demand satisfaction.

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

---------------

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

------------------------------------------

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

---------------

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[chaotic-bard]

I was tagged by the very lovely @not-so-silent-back-up thank you 🥰

🍓 what do you prefer to be called name wise?

I guess just G. That’s what my friends call me 😅 I will also listen to ☂️ on here.

🍓 when is your birthday?

26th november

🍓 where do you live?

Belgium baby!

🍓 Three things you are doing right now?

Listening to music, cuddling one of the cats and reading a fanfic (Next To You by Bean_writes)

🍓 four f*ndoms that have piqued your interest right now?

Four??? You think I have the energy to be investee in four different things? No, so I’m gonna cheat a bit haha. The Witcher (Netflix), The Witcher books and The Witcher games, also Marvel in general.

🍓 how is the pandemic treating you?

It honestly hasn’t impacted my life all that much. Sure I gotta wear a mask regularly and you gotta be a bit more careful when you’re out in public, but I am an animal keeper and when you work with animals life just goes on. Pandemic or no pandemic the animals still gotta eat and drink, they still need clean enclosures so I just kept working during the lockdown and like I said, my day to day life went pretty much on as normal.

🍓 song you can’t stop listening right now?

Gay pirates by Cosmo Jarvis (it’s gay, it’s about pirates, it’s awesome)

🍓 recommend a movie.

Rocketman (the Elton John movie)

🍓 how old are you?

25

🍓 school, university, occupation, other?

Animal keeper!

🍓 do you prefer hot or cold?

Room temperature. But I’d pick cold over hot. You can always add layers (and fluffy blankets) but you can’t take off your skin!

🍓 name one fact others may not know about you.

I absolutely hate the sound of whistling. It drives me crazy.

🍓 are you shy?

Yeah lol. And sooo incredibly awkward.

🍓 what are your pronouns?

She/her

🍓 any pet peeves?

People going ‘can I ask you a question’ and then waiting for me to reply. You want me to get anxious? Cause that what you get. And sarcasm. A girl I used to know once got mad at me cause I just replied ‘good for you’.

🍓 what’s your favorite “dere” type?

I have no idea what this means.

🍓 rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

Meh I’m going for 8. Could be better but overall not too many complaints.

🍓 what’s your main blog?

This one, baby!

🍓 list your side blogs and what they are used for.

No sideblogs.

🍓 is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

I am very bi and very annoying. I also make the worst jokes.

[shrimpkardashian]

I have a list of ~900 albums from 2019 that I still want to eventually listen to / review [IMPOSSIBLE PROJECT ALERT]

For this project (already 125+ releases deep), which is just impossibly daunting and makes me head hurt. IDK how to streamline this process or is any “critic” out there really listening to “all” the good music? It’s impossible I guess... BUT needless to say, these have made this list from an even larger pool of music that I either listened to briefly and immediately dismissed or (gasp!) never even came across my radar (radar = many many music blogs I follow via RSS). 

Anyway, because I’ll most likely never get to this (whatever this is, an Xgau parody or something)... Here is the list (please ignore some of my notations/typos):

1 matana roberts, coin coin chapter four 2 jeffrey lewis 3 negativland 4 camedor 5 the darkness 6 jai paul [leak] 7 shikoswe 8 anatolian weapons 9 cakedog, doggystyle 10 carly rae jepsen (LP, plus single w Gryffin) 11 parsnip 12 the comet is coming 13 girl in red 14 ezra furman 15 the kvb 16 freddie gibbs & madlib 17 say sue me (single) 18 denzel curry 19 fatamorgana 20 vivian girls 21 wobbly, monitress 22 helado negro 23 anamanaguchi 24 paul demarinis 25 comet gain 26 personal best 27 king princess, LP? big little lies single 28 marble arch 29 mini dresses 30 matt christensen 31 jade bird 32 black mountain 33 body meat 34 pat, Love Will Find A Way Home 35 acid arab 36 the 83rd 37 common holly 38 wicca phase 39 mark ronson 40 spirit in the room, single 41 rebe, “pienso en ti a todas horas” [just a single?] 42 a giant dog, neon bible cover LP 43 hey collosus 44 moon king (meh/ or *) 45 vanity productions 46 velvet negroni 47 g perico 48 budokan boys 49 skryptor 50 oscar scheller 51 the muffs 52 larry gus 53 these new puritans *** 54 angel olsen 55 bleu nuit 56 meatraffle 57 josephine wiggs 58 jennifer vanilla 59 big|brave 60 rico nasty 61 friendship, dreamin' 62 mike, tears of joy 63 bellrope 64 gbv 65 machìna, archipelago 66 toy, songs of consumption 67 ayankoko 68 the intelligence 69 drahla 70 corridor, junior 71 urochromes 72 david hasselhoff 73 aMAZONDOTCOM 74 kehlani 75 ne-hi EP (final) 76 avey tare 77 bonnie "prince" billy 78 battles 79 snapped ankles 80 mannequin pussy 81 toro y moi, soul trash 82 twen 83 self discovery for social survival comp 84 bad heaven ltd 85 eric frye 86 the mattson 2 87 duncan park 88 pure bathing culture 89 arthur russell, iowa dream 90 wild pink 91 flaming lips 92 pan amsterdam 93 flaural 94 knife wife 95 hannah peel & will burns 96 klein 97 meat puppets 98 tnght 99 james ferraro 100 royal trux / ariel pink 101 new rain duets 102 black marble 103 sui zhen 104 liam the younger 105 the mountain goats, welcome to passaic 106 frank hurricane and hurricanes of love 107 sebadoh 108 xylouris white 109 lindstrøm 110 franck vigroux 111 joyero 112 dorian electra  113 ride 114 crumb, jinx 115 nonconnah 116 cup, spinning creature 117 brutus 118 bjarki 119 khotin 120 alexander tucker 121 gunna 122 operator music band 123 tony molina 124 nanami ozone 125 sad planets 126 bemydelay 127 laurie anderson et al, songs from the bardo 128 teebs 129 deerhunter, timebends 130 tr/st (2 LPs) 131 dolores catherino 132 liturgy 133 floating points 134 sasami, LP + xmas EP 135 trikorder23 136 moor mother 137 have a nice life 138 la dispute 139 lingua ignota 140 lina tullgren 141 earl sweatshirt 142 entrail 143 alexander noice 144 shock narcotic 145 rakta 146 munya 147 el drugstore 148 buck gooter 149 caribou, single - more? 150 rosenau & sanborn 151 kevin abstract 152 pile 153 e for echo 154 animal collective, new psycho actives vol. 2 + live album 155 harlem 156 sudan archives 157 lil peep, posthumous ep 158 young guv, i and ii 159 orville peck 160 75 dollar bill 161 institute 162 tove lo 163 the chocolate watchband 164 foie gras, holy hell 165 french vanilla 166 chuck cleaver 167 kollaps 168 spirits having fun 169 game 170 badgirl$ 171 medhane 172 alberich 173 show me the body 174 the night watch, an embarrassment of riches 175 inus, western spaghettification 176 pregoblin, singles? 177 ra ra riot 178 de lorians 179 kool keith 180 kaspia & stride 181 glen hansard 182 dpeee 183 berlin taxi 184 foghorn 185 ionnalee 186 american sharks 187 sitcom, dust single 188 pip blom 189 j balvin & bady 190 fenella 191 tanya tagaq 192 sean o'hagan 193 j robbins 194 peter ivers (comp) 195 neon indian, not sure if single is part of larger proj? 196 triad god 197 yeule 198 roland tings 199 schoolboy q 200 ava luna EP 201 fried eggs 202 drugdealer 203 half japanese 204 todd anderson-kunert 205 emily reo 206 christelle bofale 207 brion starr 208 jan jelinek (reissue) 209 peaer 210 devin townsend 211 vik 212 young m.a 213 default genders 214 night lovell 215 rocketship 216 kim gordon 217 ellen arkbro 218 george clanton and nick hexum [single?] 219 the minus 5 220 penguin cage 221 felicia atkinson 222 take offense 223 moon duo 224 chemical brothers 225 nef the pharaoh 226 daniel norgren 227 unkle 228 pup (?) 229 baroness 230 velvet bethany 231 resavoir 232 gruff rhys 233 lana del ray 234 empath 235 burial and the bug, flame 2 236 russian baths 237 quelle chris 238 corpse flower 239 roy montgomery [reissue] 240 clinic 241 a.g. cook, [single] 242 why? 243 beck 244 francis lung 245 thom yorke 246 warmduscher 247 uv-tv 248 aa bondy 249 max richter, ad astra ost 250 younghusband 251 stereo total 252 julie's haircut 253 aa matheson 254 eartheater 255 kelly moran 256 mana (seven steps behind) 257 c.h.e.w. 258 sarah mary chadwick 259 midsommar ost 260 beabadoobee 261 life, a picture of good health 262 dumb, club nites 263 dame dolla 264 endless boogie 265 burna boy 266 lungbutter 267 wand 268 future punx 269 yves jarvis 270 kim petras [LP, halloween EP] 271 bts world 272 pikelet 273 panda bear, single 274 samiyam 275 red river dialect 276 ryan pollie 277 ryuichi sakamot (reissue) 278 jackie mendoza 279 dark blue 280 jay som 281 stephen mallinder 282 neutrals, kebab disco 283 foodman 284 capitol, dream noise 285 new pornographers 286 mark korven, the lighthouse ost 287 gauche 288 the japanese house 289 cave (re-issue) 290 ybn cordae 291 the vacant lots 292 arwen 293 rhucle 294 lil b, @ least 2 releases? 295 tea service 296 chai 297 black pumas 298 program, show me 299 marika hackman 300 sonny and the sunsets 301 lillie mae 302 mean jeans 303 the stroppies 304 poppies 305 twin shadow 306 vanishing twin *** 307 portrayal of guilt [EP + split single] 308 lucki [2 lps] 309 absolutely free 310 girl band 311 black midi 312 torche 313 perfume (best of) 314 white denim 315 clipping 316 the hu 317 big business 318 metro crowd 319 ex-vöid, 7" 320 broken social scene 321 lil pump 322 uranium club 323 doon kanda 324 hesitation wounds 325 sorry girls 326 bibio 327 red mass 328 the shins, single 329 lil keed 330 yeasayer 331 bts / blackpink KPOP 332 galen tipton, fake meat 333 the world, reddish 334 lanark artefax, ep 335 ladytron 336 g.s., schray 337 just mustard [single, more?] 338 mdou moctar 339 rangers, spirited discussion 340 tyson meade 341 dj nate 342 kelly lee owens 343 bambara 344 kilo kish 345 lusine 346 ralph heidel / homo ludens 347 psychic graveyard 348 homeshake 349 wives, so removed 350 proto idiot 351 let’s eat grandma, ost ep 352 foals 353 caroline shaw & attacca quartet 354 juan waters 355 mount eerie with julie doiron 356 mestozi 357 patio 358 oh baby, the art of sleeping alone 359 earth 360 haybaby 361 anna meredith 362 the caretaker (6) 363 rich brian 364 sunn o))), [two LPs] 365 alessandro cortini 366 ty segall 367 injury reserve 368 elucid 369 budos band 370 tim hecker 371 waqwaq kingdom 372 william doyle *** 373 innercity ensemble 374 filthy friends 375 prurient 376 shlohmo 377 bon iver 378 sean henry 379 yeesh 380 faye webster 381 megan thee stallion 382 squid, town centre 383 simulation (hausau mountain) 384 flying lotus 385 horse jumper of love 386 rap, export 387 lansky jones 388 the gonks 389 cate lebon 390 rome fortune 391 chain cult 392 empty set 393 big thief (2 lp's) 394 laura cannell [and polly wright album ?] or is there just a laura c album too ? }} 395 froth 396 thugwidow 397 organ tapes 398 the new pornographers 399 zonal 400 bbg baby joe 401 whitney 402 guards 403 anemone 404 sheer mag 405 nots 406 fujiya & miyag 407 kool aid, family portrait ep 408 frankie cosmos 409 kaputt 410 quelle chris 411 operators 412 marco benevento 413 elvis depressedly 414 school of language, 45 415 rob burger 416 pozi 417 redd kross 418 randy randall 419 yatta 420 hide, hell is here 421 bobby krlic, midsommar ost 422 planet england 423 kev brown 424 robedoor 425 tropical fuck storm 426 haram, 9/11 ep 427 candy, super-stare single 428 sly and the family drone 429 kevin morby 430 porches, rangerover [single] 431 odae 432 pottery 433 saint pepsi 434 slowthai 435 iggy pop 436 swans 437 iLOVEMAKONNEN 438 mukqs 439 feels 440 luke temple 441 oli xl 442 orphan swords 443 post pink 444 deli girls 445 nilüfer yanya 446 idk, is he real? 447 interpol 448 priests 449 galcher lustwerk 450 smokepurpp, various? 451 kindness 452 ex hex 453 sampa the great 454 methyl ethel 455 ellis, the fuzz ep 456 jeanines s/t 457 water from your eyes 458 twin peaks 459 sam cohen 460 fontaines dc 461 spiral stairs 462 the hecks 463 nicola ratti 464 four tet, various (inc. "wingdings" alter ego side proj) 465 holy ghost 466 half stack 467 cherubs 468 juana molina, forfun EP 469 jpegmafia 470 bedouine 471 fury 472 melvins/flipper 473 the curls 474 izambard 475 heart eyes 476 drinking boys and girls choir 477 big search 478 glenn branca 479 rose elinor dougall 480 bat for lashes 481 young knives, [single, more? 482 hot chip 483 alex lahey 484 hemlock ernst & kenny segal 485 dj seinfeld 486 joni void 487 rema rema 488 spencer tweedy 489 trash kit 490 dry cleaning [2 ep's] 491 mega bog *** 492 saudade 493 monster rally 494 wilco 495 chromatics, LP + EP 496 slayyyter 497 maral 498 blarf 499 pernice brothers 500 la neve 501 marie davidson 502 tredici bacci 503 deathprod 504 lowly 505 russian circles 506 angel witch 507 fires were shot 508 amy o 509 q da fool 510 clams casino 511 automelodi 512 paradox 513 dababy (2) 514 david kilgour 515 missy elliot 516 baby smoove 517 boris 518 thanks for coming 519 yves tumor [single w/] 520 ΜΜΜΔ 521 falcon/falkland 522 noel wells 523 ecstatic vision 524 amyl & the sniffers 525 barrie 526 bianca scout 527 katie dey 528 prince rama 529 control top 530 duster, comp + new LP 531 foxes in fiction 532 slowthai x denzel curry [single] 533 the murlocs 534 plaid 535 ela orleans 536 gobby 537 cfm 538 carla del forna 539 pale spring 540 pixx 541 širom 542 lightning bolt 543 cate lebon & deerhunter 544 channel tres 545 sigrid 546 help, s/t 547 shellac, live 548 crack cloud, pain olympics (ongoing) / s/t (2018) 549 notes underground 550 fat white family *** 551 gloop 552 equiknoxx 553 nakhane 554 czarface meets ghostface 555 the rubinoos 556 shannon lay 557 tim heidecker 558 droneflower 559 john vanderslice 560 your old droog 561 bats, alter nature 562 zvi 563 justus proffit 564 lower dens 565 anna of the north 566 yg 567 holly herndon 568 good fuck 569 clark, single 570 charli xcx 571 the nativist 572 low life 573 jonsi & alex somers 574 kazu 575 günter schickert 576 odonis odonis 577 kelsey lu (+ remix EP) 578 young thug 579 thaiboy digital 580 hatchie 581 hiro kone 582 cocorosie 583 sabiwa 584 oh sees 585 rex orange county 586 311 587 erland cooper 588 jtamul 589 the brilliant tabernacle 590 free love, extreme dance anthems 591 jeff lynne's elo 592 dutch courage 593 booji boys 594 giggs 595 ceschi 596 inter arma 597 psychic sounds ensemble 598 eli kezsler EP 599 thelma 600 haiku salut 601 julia jacklin 602 otoboke beaver 603 colin self 604 mark mulcahy 605 rosalia, single "a pale" more? 606 chris lott 607 royal trux 608 weyes blood 609 mikal cronin 610 hissing tiles 611 grace ives 612 vic bang 613 nick cave 614 sugar world [single] 615 herzog 616 offset 617 mike adams at his honest weight 618 real life buildings 619 aldous harding 620 pye corner audio 621 doja cat 622 bleached 623 book of shame 624 kate davis 625 i was a king 626 pendant, through a coil 627 joseph arthur 628 great grandpa, four of arrows 629 modern nature 630 stef chura 631 spaza, s/t great 632 the alchemist 633 pond 634 aiden baker, etc 635 kirin j. Callinan 636 possible humans 637 greys 638 kizuna ai 639 little simz 640 big bend 641 membranes, what nature gives… 642 young nudy 643 car seat headrest (live) 644 seahawks 645 dumbhop's party 646 julien chang 647 pacific yew 648 pharmakon 649 lomelda 650 versing 651 olden yolk 652 mekons 653 the dream syndicate 654 the gotobeds 655 amy klein 656 bABii 657 bill callahan 658 grlwood 659 van dale 660 ziúr 661 delicate steve 662 debby friday 663 dehd 664 south city hardware 665 kesha 666 (sandy) alex g 667 computer slime 668 fka twigs 669 rob halford, celestial 670 dean hurley 671 school of language 672 nicolas godin 673 blue hawaii 674 leggy 675 ceremony 676 his name is alive 677 third eye blind 678 sadgirl 679 ariana grande 680 skepta 681 dylan moon 682 jay mitta 683 the drums 684 kero kero bonito, ep 685 charly bliss 686 lee renaldo etc 687 rina mushonga 688 ulla straus 689 cherushii & maria minerva 690 slaughter beach, dog 691 maps 692 dj shadow 693 tool LOL 694 diiv 695 pixies 696 cuco 697 black peaches 698 subhumans 699 gurr 700 cashmere cat 701 brockhampton 702 fire-toolz 703 lambchop, LP + EP 704 messthetics 705 neuland 706 westkust 707 haelos 708 sturgill simpson 709 maria usbeck 710 king gizzard (2) 711 earthgang 712 paranoid london 713 fet.nat 714 bethlehem steel 715 neil young with crazy horse 716 tengger 717 guerilla toss 718 spelling 719 lizzo 720 wiki 721 dr00p, mkULTRAHD 722 ghost orchard 723 jane weaver 724 usa/mexico 725 carl stone 726 richard dawson *** 727 rafael toral 728 test dept 729 sacred paws 730 big krit 731 mallrat 732 jenn champion 733 moE/Mette Rasmussen, tolerancia picante 734 facs 735 yung lean, single (blue cup) and ep, more? 736 pissgrave 737 moodyman 738 sing sinck, sing 739 tyler the creator 740 sleater-kinney 741 dean blunt, zushi 742 cursive 743 barker, utlity 744 gemma 745 octavian 746 pronoun 747 girl ray 748 julia shapiro 749 nodding god 750 daniel saylor 751 jakob ogawa 752 richard youngs 753 diät 754 w00dy 755 omar souleyman 756 vōx EP 757 topdown dialectic 758 penelope islea 759 gbv 760 glass beach 761 james hoff, hobo ufo 762 euglossine 763 dream ritual 764 terry allen 765 office culture 766 ghostie, devour 767 beat detectives 768 red channel 769 octo octa 770 julien baker [toyko single] 771 shackleton as "tunes of negation" 772 sons of raphael 773 lena raine 774 fitted, first fits 775 velf 776 cvn 777 black country, new road, [2 singles only?] 778 chief keef 779 andrew bird, LP and EP 780 tamaryn 781 vagabon 782 zelooperz 783 brian jonestown massacre 784 angel dust 785 pere ubu 786 vatican shadow, church... 787 spencer radcliffe 788 mr muthafuckin exquire 789 earth to mickey 790 beak> 791 byron westbrook 792 major murphy 793 nicole yun 794 the divine comedy 795 sote, parallel persiao 796 the radio dept. 797 prince daddy & the hyena 798 mudhoney 799 truth club 800 shura 801 underworld, drift 802 lil texas 803 that dog 804 gary wilson / r. stevie moore 805 divino nino 806 spiral heads 807 claire cronin 808 devendra banhart 809 c.y.m. EP 810 dude york 811 sangri 812 vegyn [2 lp's?] 813 brooke candy 814 caroline polachek 815 hurt valley 816 O.L.I.V.I.A, modo avion 817 ziúr 818 pepper mill rondo, it's christmas time 819 ben vida 820 nick hexum/george clanton 821 meara o'reilly 822 tyler holmes, devil 823 blood incantation 824 guenter schlienz 825 gavilán rayna russom 826 loraine james *** 827 lithics, Wendy Kraemer EP 828 navel, ambient 2, in space 829 the proper ornaments 830 jon hopkins & kelly lee owens, single 831 julianna barwick 832 park hye-jin 833 bea1991 834 men i trust 835 erika de casier 836 ducks unlimited 837 lyzza 838 refused 839 jim o'rourke, to magnetize ... 840 analemma, 2 singles on a comp? 841 zack fox, "the bean kicked in" 842 real life rock n roll band 843 prefab sprout 844 daniel lopatin, uncut gems ost 845 kaytranada 846 the voidz, 2 song single + video? 847 grandaddy, single (add scissors icon) 848 dark thoughts, must be nice 849 loose nukes 850 sam mallet 851 very good, adulthood 852 henge, nothing head 853 kaleidobolt 854 nebula, holy shit 855 terminal cheesecake 856 uzeda 857 wet tuna 858 sean mccann 859 black dresses, love and... (2nd LP) 860 nefew 861 taylor swift ??? 862 lala lala, the lamb 863 jenny lewis 864 33EMYBW 865 blood orange, angel's pulse 866 caterina barbieri *** 867 yusu 868 white reaper 869 rozi plain 870 bamboo, daughters of the sky 871 seragina steer 872 clear channel, hot fruit 873 patience, dizzy spells 874 mope grooves, desire 875 current affairs, object & subject 875 comfort, not passing 876 bill orcutt 877 bonnie baxter 878 carl stone 879 thurston moore 880 alameda 5 881 john zorn 882 the membranes, what nature gives... 883 meemo comma 884 ana roxannne 885 whistling arrow, s/t 886 dis fantasy 887 giant swan, s/t 888 buck young, buck ii 889 abdu ali 890 ifriqiyya électrique 891 $hit and $hine, doing drugs, selling drugs 892 ghold 893 theon cross 894 yao bobby & simon grab 895 solange *sure whatever ok 896 the comet is coming 897 the utopia strong, s/t 898 karenn, grapefruit regret 899 brìghde chaimbeul 900 nav, bad habits 901 chance, big day 902 nostalgia critic's the wall 903 uboa, the origin of my depression 904 hobo johnson 905 ana frango elétrico 906 dorian electra

[drawsndrabbles]

Hey! Could you write a mini thorbruce fic from this prompt. "things you said when you thought i was asleep" I love your writing style and I love you sm.

me?? not dead?? in this day and age???? It’s more likely than you think. Mfuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh here’s some content. smooch* anon ily2

Bruce stumbled off the elevator into the common area of Stark tower with a blanket over his shoulders and trembling faintly.

Captain America, no, Steve Rogers head lolled back on the couch to look at him from where he was sitting, a newspaper lay folded in his lap. “Can’t sleep?” He asked kindly.

Bruce nodded. His, transformations often left a sour taste in his mouth and nightmares would plague him even for days after he’d manage to return to himself. “It’s, been a while since I’ve slept in such a populated area. And longer than that in a building with other people. I’m not quite used to it.” He supplied, hoping that it could be left at that.

Steve smiled understandingly. “Yeah, I get that certain things can take some getting used to. I’m sure you’ve read my file and there’s no point holding onto the past but, at least you’re not alone, right?”

A loud snore abruptly caused Bruce to flinch and even Steve to startle as it breached the silence.

Bruce turned and noted with great surprise that the proclaimed God of thunder had his head pillowed on his arms fast asleep on Tony’s kitchen table.

Steve chuckled softly and got up, stretching his arms above his head as he walked toward the elevator. “Don’t worry too much, the guy can sleep through anything. Not to mention after fighting Loki and his alien army it seems like he’s had a bit of a long day.”

Bruce sniffed a bit, watching his even breaths for a moment. “I didn’t know gods could sleep.” He mused.

“I didn’t know God’s existed,” Steve said with a grin, coaxing Bruce’s own amused laugh. “I’m gonna head in. Let me know if you need anything.”

The elevator rang it’s arrival and Steve stepped inside, giving Bruce a final wave before the doors shut and Bruce found himself alone with a sleeping God.

A rumbling sound from the table brought Bruce’s attention back to said god, and he found himself edging closer before he could think better of it.

A god, huh? Bruce found himself looking over Thor in what he tried to categorize as scientific interest. He had to admit, he wasn’t what Bruce would have expected. Over 6 feet tall and fit sure. But he seemed surprisingly young, at least by looks. He looked more like a model than a Viking.

They hadn’t had much interaction on or off the battlefield and their first interaction had been, strained at best.

Bruce recalled shivering in the back of a jet while Natasha fussed over him, trying to keep him calm as the memories and sensations post-transformation struck him in waves. He remembered Thor, talking about the hulk, what he’d done, how he fought and so on. He almost seemed… impressed. But as soon as he noticed Bruce wilt as he talked about the hulk he backtracked and contradicted his statements.

And isn’t that Viking like? A small voice in the back of his head informed him. To praise you as a warrior and commend your triumph in battle.

“Oh Thor,” Bruce murmured to himself. “Were you trying to cheer me up back then? To complement me?” Bruce laughed somewhat bitterly, feeling lost. “I didn’t know. It must’ve been rude of me to get upset when you were trying to be kind. Thank you.”

Bruce pulled the blanket from his own shoulders and draped it across the expanse of Thor’s back, lightly pulling it over his arms.

When Bruce turned back to the elevator to head back up to his room he missed how Thor’s fingers tightened slightly around the corner of the blanket.

~

The short-circuiting of the Avengers tower heralded the arrival of their guest with a clap of thunder.

Thor knelt on the helicopter pad, looking worse for wear, as though he had the weight of an entire world on his shoulders. And with the Aether brought back into the world, by Jane no less, he supposed he did.

When Thor rose it was to the sound of rushing feet and when he looked up Tony Stark was standing in the doorway, an iron man glove aimed and ready before he sputtered and leaned on the door jamb. “Look Thor, we really need to talk about notifying me before your arrival before you take out half the electricity in the city.”

Thor clasped his hands in front of him, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m sorry. I know my visit is a bit sudden as well, I didn’t mean to intrude but some, things have come up. I came to let you know I may be gone for some time.”

Tony paused for a moment, giving Thor a quick once over when he didn’t readily elaborate. “Right, well that’s unfortunate. It’s a bit unlike you to come all the way here just to say goodbye though.” He mused.

Thor looked a bit caught out and Tony laughed, gesturing for him to come inside. “It’s freezing out here, you might as well come in for a bit.”

Thor nodded slowly, ducking inside and following Tony through the winding hallways.

“Excuse the mess,” He was saying. “We weren’t really expecting any guests for a while, not that Cap and Nat don’t come and go but, still.”

“We?”

“Hmn? Oh, yeah. Bruce is here, we’ve been working on some upgrades and tweaking something on Jarvis and around the tower. New security detail and all, you know how it is.”

Thor hummed thoughtfully, following Tony into their lab only to walk stiffly into his back. “Tony-” He began before a hand clamped over his mouth. Tony shushed him pointing to Bruce’s sleeping form curled over one of the lab tables next to a flickering microscope.

“Shhh, I’ve been trying to get him to sleep for days. It’d probably be best if we leave him alone for now, I’ll go make some coffee in the meantime.”

“That sounds agreeable,” Thor whispered at Tony’s retreating form.

He stood, a bit unsure to be alone in the lab but he crossed to Bruce’s curled body smiling softly down at him. His face was much more relaxed when he slept, his worry lines faded, replaced with dimpled cheeks and laugh lines. It made something strange in Thor’s chest clench and ache.

He’d admitted, albeit begrudgingly, to Jane that he had felt particularly fond of the strange Dr. Banner of the Avengers team. And that though their time together was often times in the midst of battle or cut short by another member of the team, their conversations were engaging and fun.

“Bruce,” Thor whispered quietly, testing how his first name sounded on his tongue. “I must go for sometime… I’m not quite sure how long that may be, and, I came to say goodbye. I’ll miss our talks and movie night, but most of all I’ll miss you… Bruce.”

When Tony returned to the lab with two mugs of coffee Thor was gone and Bruce had woken up. “Mornin sunshine, want some coffee?”

Bruce turned and gave Tony a small grateful smile and taking the cup and hiding the flush of his cheeks in the steam.

~

The spaceship hummed and whirried in the empty din of space as Bruce sat in his room and looked out at the stars. The Asgardian crew having gone to bed, the scientist felt terribly small and alone after their larger than life adventure to stop Ragnarok. He sighed into the expanse of the cosmos.

Everything seemed, different now.

Suppose 2 years locked in the Hulk’s trunk would do that to him. But that wasn’t all. Thor seemed different.

More haggard and mature than the time they’d spent reacquainting themselves after Ultron’s defeat. Bruce distantly remembered Thor’s quite soothing voice while he assured him that he wasn’t at fault as they sat on an awning overlooking the city. He’d returned from the ‘dark world’ alone and weary. Something about the look in Thor’s eyes and the way in which he wouldn’t elaborate on his journey tugged at Bruce’s nerves that something more than he was explaining was going on. But he never pressed.

Then Thor offered it willingly. As they sat under the sky Thor unprompted told Bruce the details of what had transpired, his friends, his brother, Jane. He spilled his soul for Bruce to examine, and when he offered condolences Thor had smiled sadly and taken his hand in his own. “Don’t be sorry.” He’d murmured to him from where they sat on the cusp of something new.

Bruce flinched at the sound of voices outside his door, one obviously female and one rumbling like thunder. He’d thrown himself under the covers a moment before the doors slid open.

He willed himself to relax and take deep breaths as footsteps crossed to where he had thrown himself on the far side of the bed. His fight or flight instincts were alight with the need to flee but Bruce ignored it, his curiosity getting the better of him. That must be the scientist in his him.

Thor knelt in front of him, and Bruce could feel his hot breath on his hands from where they rested on the mattress. He could feel Thor’s eyes assessing him and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Thor whispered to him. “I’ve lost countless things these last few years, far too much, but you. I couldn’t afford to lose you. I’d feared the worst when you dropped like a rock from the space ship…” His voice wavered slightly and Bruce was amazed his didn’t flinch when he felt a large hand brush a curl behind his ear before hovering about his face. “But I’m glad you’re all right. Unbearably relieved if I’m being honest. So, don’t ever, do something so stupid again.”

Bruce didn’t fight the urge to open his eyes. He placed his palm over Thor’s, giving him permission to cup the side of his face, wiping away a stray tear Bruce hadn’t noticed had fallen.

“I won’t.” He whispered back.

“I promise.” He pressed into Thor’s lips.

[bmcficrec]

deere one shots, pt 2

Estinto by OnceAndFloral*

Tags: Fluff

Estinto. extinct, extinguished; i.e., as soft as possible, lifeless, barely audible. instruction to a musician to play as softly as possible. Jake had never really been one for open mics before

laser beam by PlayerTwoHeere

Tags: Laser Tag

“Oh, so the famous Jake Dillinger, who I’ve liked for three months, actually made out with me because he likes me and not because he wanted to win?” Jeremy said, words practically dripping with sarcasm. “Exactly!” ~~~ or, jeremy is insecure as hell, jake is whipped, and their friends are tired of their bullshit. also, laser tag.

Oddly Sweet by OnceAndFloral*

Tags: Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Confessions

The first thing he noticed was the pounding headache slashing at the inside of his head. Jake groaned, raising a hand to rub at his temples. What happened? He could taste sweet flavored alcohol coating the inside of the mouth. That was a bit weird. Jake didn’t normally go for the sweeter flavors.

Swimming Team by Kealpos

Tags: Trans Jeremy Heere

Jake liked knowing Jeremy a little more than he figured he should. He found out Jeremy liked sushi, but only a very specific kind that had steak, chicken, and beef on the menu. He found out Jeremy liked hot gluing things for some reason. He found out that Jeremy liked fizzy lemonade more than regular; that he had summer freckles; that he once tried to dye his hair green when he was 15 but wussied out; that he was really tolerant of pain and that he was really good at giving stick and poke tattoos; that he was a lightweight, but acted mostly normal when drunk. That Jeremy loved to swim, and he was part of a swim team during most of Middle School.

freak by PlayerTwoHeere

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Established Relationship                                      

“Call me by my name.” Jeremy spat, tears in his eyes. He was glad Jake couldn’t see the way his eyes were glistening. “What on earth are you talking about, Jeremy, I don’t know-“ “What was it you called me? Freak? If you even noticed me, that is.”

gay pirates by PlayerTwoHeere

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Homophobia

~based on a song by the same name by cosmo jarvis~ i hope they didn't tie up your hands as tight as mine. i'll see you on the bed of this blue ocean babe, sometime ~~~ or, jake and jeremy are secretly in love, but have to keep it hidden or else they get thrown overboard

Start Your Day With Carly Rae by lalagirl16*

Tags: Morning After, First Time, Post-Squip

If there was one thing Jeremy absolutely understood about popular kids, it was this: all throughout high school, he’d heard girls bragging that they slept with Jake Dillinger like it made them the queen of the world. That, he thought to himself as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, is exactly how I feel right now.

Binding by Bubbly_Kandy

Tags: Non-binary Jake Dillinger, Trans Jeremy Heere, Unsafe Binding

Jeremy is an idiot.

In the Closet by storygiver

Tags: book-based plot, jeremy is trans

Jason Finderman's parents have fled the country for Barbados, and their abandoned house lays prey to teenage shenanigans, including a brief makeout session between Jeremy Heere and Jake Dillinger in the condemned, empty hallway closet.

[cosmosbabydoll]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞 જ⁀➴ 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Elliot finally meets the quiet nurse

!!MENTIONS OF GUN VIOLENCE!! Angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, emotional hurt, comfort, trauma recovery, guarded characters, mutual pining, survival themes, protective male lead, soft girl x rough guy

The rain hadn’t stopped for hours. The drops were loud as they pelted against the medic tent like distant artillery—constant, dull, impossible to ignore. You were rinsing the blood off your hands after stitching up Tommy’s rather large gash on his leg when the flap of an entrance opened hard, nearly ripped clean of its ties.

He stood there, soaked and grimacing, a fresh streak of red down his temple. Elliott.

He didn’t ask for help or say anything for that matter. He stared at you like you were the one who did this, like this whole thing was your fault.

You were like a deer in headlights; Elliott’s presence scared you—dark and moody, like you never did anything right… Well, that's what the other nurses told you; you were scared to face him. This time you're stuck, no backup, no saving you from his scowl and harsh demeanour.

“Are you going to do your fuckin’ job, sweetheart?” he muttered, stepping inside without permission. “Or do you just stare at all the men that walk in bleeding?”

His raspy tone quickly pulled you out of the daze you were in; meanwhile, your heart picked up a little. “Sorry, you can sit down there, I’ll grab clean supplies.” You spoke softly, thinking—hoping it would keep him calm while you fixed him up.

He huffed while he sat on the cot; his eyes roamed around the room as you quickly and quietly grabbed your things. From what you gathered in your trance, there's a bullet graze on the side of his head; an inch to the left, he would have been dead.

You quickly put down your stuff on the cart and rolled it towards him sitting on the cot; by the time you reached him, he was already glaring at you. You stood in front of him before you spoke in a hushed tone, “Elliott, can you tell me what happened just to make sure I treat it properly?”

He quickly sighed before he spoke, almost like he was embarrassed with what happened. “I took off my helmet because I jammed the strap into my neck; it wouldn’t loosen. I was practically fuckin’ suffocating.” He spoke unwillingly with his first sentence, but the second one sounded less robotic.

He sighed again. “A few minutes later shots were fired, and I guess I got lucky.”

This sentence was shot at her like the bullet was to his big head. You thought to yourself. “Okay, well, I’m going to clean it for you, stitch you up, and send you on your way.” Your tone remained the same, not wanting to make either of your days longer than they already have been.

Elliott didn't say anything. He just sat there, jaw tight, fingers flexing in his lap like he was itching for a smoke or a fight—maybe both. The blood had started to dry at the edge of the wound, a muddy mix of red and rainwater trailing down his squared jaw. His breath was heavy, nose flaring with each exhale, like sitting still cost him something.

You reached forward slowly, gently tilting his stubbled chin with your fingers so you could see better. He didn’t flinch, but his eyes locked onto yours—sharp, unreadable, like he was daring you to say something about the mess he was.

He didn’t like being touched. That much was obvious. But he didn't stop you either.

“This’ll sting,” you warned, more out of habit than anything. You weren't sure he even felt pain the way others did. Maybe he just buried it deeper.

He grunted in response, the corner of his mouth twitching, but whether it was from discomfort or amusement, you couldn’t tell.

You dabbed the gash with antiseptic-soaked gauze, and his breath hitched once. Just once. His fists clenched together, murmuring a “bitch” under his breath.

He took a deep breath. “Are you always this quiet?” He asked suddenly, his voice low but jarring.

You blinked, not looking away from his wound. “I guess.”

“That’s why they keep sending you in here alone?” He added. “Too soft to complain?”

The words stung more than you expected, but you didn’t react—not visibly. You just kept working, cleaning up the blood that didn’t belong to someone who was still breathing.

“I don't mind being quiet,” you answered, voice even. “Some people don’t like being talked to when they’re in pain.”

He watched you. Really watched. Like he was trying to figure out if you meant it or if it was just something you told yourself to sleep better at night.

The silence stretches again, thick with rain and tension. Then, barely above the sound of his breath:

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The question caught you off guard. He knew it—everyone did—but the way he asked felt deliberate. Like maybe now it meant something.

You said it softly, and his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Right,” he muttered. “Well.”

And then, quieter—almost under his breath:

“Someone like you shouldn’t be somewhere like this.”

You didn’t answer. Just threaded the needle; let the silence hold the weight of his words.

The next morning you were up just before sunrise for your shift; once again, you were the only one assigned to his unit during the day. Luckily Erik is in charge of the unit, as he had everything in order for the most part, keeping everyone as safe as possible.

You quickly made your way to the crappy sink to brush your teeth before setting up; you had slept in your uniform as always. After you finished up with your teeth, you began to put your hair up in a bun—quickly you were interrupted.

Your name was being called just outside the tent. It was Elliott.

You hurry with your hair before walking to the tent's entrance, when suddenly Elliott enters the tent urgently. Unfortunately, you were not even a foot from the entrance, so when he entered, he knocked you straight to the ground.

“Shit,” Elliott groans, “I didn’t mean to—I scratched open my stitches in my sleep. Are you okay?”

You pushed yourself up off the ground while he ranted; he was less stoic than yesterday—he was covered in a thin layer of sweat, wearing only a tank top with his uniform pants and heavy boots.

“Yeah, fine. Are you okay?” You countered. “You look like you‘ve just seen a ghost.”

After pointing out his state of distress, his eyes narrowed as he swallowed, seemingly trying to hide from his feelings. “Yeah, I just need help—please.”

He paused before saying please, almost like it hurt him to say it.

Your eyes flicked over to him—his temple was bleeding again, red trailing down his cheek, meeting the stubble that covered his jaw, connecting to his ridiculously big moustache. The sweat on his skin made the wound look worse, more vivid under the soft early light.

You nodded silently, stepping aside so he could sit on the cot. He didn’t meet your gaze as he passed, just muttered something under his breath—maybe a thanks, maybe nothing at all.

You grabbed fresh supplies with practiced hands, but your pulse was quick. The Elliott from yesterday had been harsh and guarded. This one? Still sharp, but… fraying. Whatever had happened in his sleep had shaken him, and he was trying hard not to show it.

You approach slowly, more cautious this time.

“You’re sure it was just from sleeping?” You asked, voice gentle, not pushing but not letting it go either.

He didn’t answer at first. Just stared at the floor, then finally muttered, “Had a dream.”

You stopped, eyes flicking up to his face. His teeth grinding against each other. His hands picked at the dirt caked onto his pants.

“Not the kind you wake up from feelin’ lucky,” he added dryly.

You said nothing—just reached for the gauze. You dabbed at the blood again, more carefully this time, and even though you didn’t ask, he kept talking, like the words were clawing their way out of his throat whether he wanted them to or not.

“I saw it happen differently,” he said. “The shot. Closer. Felt it. Heard it. Couldn’t wake up.”

You slowed your movements, but you didn’t interrupt. He wasn’t really looking at you—just past you, at the blank canvas walls of the tent.

“Didn’t even have the helmet. Stupid, right?” He scoffed bitterly. “I got real fuckin’ lucky, and I know it—I was so close.”

Your hands faltered for a second.

Then you said, softly, “That sounds terrifying.”

He didn’t respond. Not for a moment.

Then: “You ever have dreams like that?”

You hesitated. Then nodded. “Not like yours. But… yeah.”

He nodded once, slowly, and for the first time, he looked up at you—not past you, not through you. At you.

“You don’t belong here,” he said again, but there was something different in the way he said it this time. Not like before—condescending or cold. This time, it sounded like regret.

You offered a small smile. “Maybe. But I’m here.”

He held your gaze. “And you’re doing a hell of a job.”

You finished cleaning him up, heart a little louder in your chest. “I could say the same to you.”

Something shifted between you then. Quiet, but real. His shoulders dropped a fraction, and the storm behind his eyes calmed just enough.

Then, low and rough, “Thanks… for not treating me like a fuckin’ ghost.”

You gave a quiet breath of a laugh, your fingers brushing his temple one last time. “You’re welcome. Even if you nearly knocked me unconscious this morning.”

His lips twitched—just barely. “Guess that makes us even.”

“Guess so,” you nodded with a soft smile on your face before grabbing the thread and needles. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

After you sent Elliott on his way, you didn’t expect to see him for the rest of the day, but every hour he would come back asking for random things. At first it was believable: medical tape, a tourniquet, and some bandages. Then it became water, a pen, and then—

“Hey,” he called your name as he waltzed in as you were checking Sam for a concussion. “You got that stuff you use for your lips? They’re really dry.”

You looked away from Sam for a split second before directing Elliott. “See on the counter beside the sink? Yeah, right there. That bag has all my toiletries.”

While Elliott grabs what he needs, you tell Sam he’s good to go, and he and Elliott walk out together, not before Sam laughs at him. “Dude, you’re so whipped.”

You stifled a smile as you heard Sam’s teasing echo outside the tent, followed by Elliott’s low grunt of annoyance.

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.”

There was no real heat in it, though—more bark than bite.

The tent fell quiet again, and for a moment you just stood there, hand still on your clipboard, blinking at the entrance like you were trying to process what just happened. Of all things, lip balm? He could’ve asked anyone. Hell, he could’ve stolen it from someone’s pack.

But he came to you.

You busied yourself tidying up, pretending not to think about it. But you were. The shift in his behaviour since last night—it was subtle, but real. Less venom in his voice. Less armour in his eyes. Like something in him had cracked open, just enough for the light to bleed in.

You didn’t expect to see him again after that. Six times in one day? That felt like his limit.

But twenty minutes later, the flap rustled again.

This time, you didn’t even look up. “What now, Elliott?”

“I brought it back,” he muttered, and when you looked, he was standing awkwardly by the cot, holding out the little tin of balm like it was something fragile.

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “You could’ve kept it.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t feel right.”

There was a pause, and then—

“It smells like you,” he added under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

Your heart skipped, heat blooming at the base of your throat. You studied him quietly, searching for the usual scowl, the sarcasm—but it wasn’t there. He looked… tired. A little flushed from the heat outside. His buzz cut glistened with a layer of sweat.

You reached for the tin, fingers brushing his. He didn’t move.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded once and stepped back. “You uh… you eat yet?”

You blinked. “What?”

He cleared his throat, eyes shifting like the question was heavier than it should’ve been. “I got a second tray. Ray owed me. Figured you'd rather have it over the shitty protein bars they try to feed you guys.”

You stared at him.

Elliott never offered anything, not that you’ve heard of from the night shift nurses. Never lingered. Never asked.

But here he was—helmetless, wounded, still wearing your chapstick, and offering you his extra rations.

Maybe Sam was right.

Maybe he was a little whipped.

But somehow, the thought didn’t make you feel powerful; it made you feel seen.

Elliott had dropped off the food before finishing the last bit of his slow day. He was right; you did prefer the food he gave you over the bricks of protein bars they usually gave you.

Once you finished eating, you cleaned up your station as it was close to the night shift, and you headed to get ready for bed.

Luckily tonight was warmer than other nights, so you removed your uniform top, which left you in an undershirt and your pants. You brushed your teeth and headed to your crappy bed for a night's rest.

You never fell asleep right away, though; you waited to make sure the night shift didn’t need anything else before they started their shift.

After some time passed, you slowly drifted off into the deepest sleep anyone could get on the mattress you had.

The low hum of the unit at night was oddly comforting—distant voices, boots crunching gravel, the occasional radio squawk. You were somewhere between dreaming and floating when a familiar voice cut through the haze.

“Is she asleep?”

Elliott.

You didn’t hear the reply at first, but someone from the night shift murmured back, confused. “I think so? Why?”

There was a pause, long and strange. Then Elliott’s voice again, rougher now—more hesitant. “I just… need to talk to her.”

Another pause. Some rustling. “She’s in the second cot to the left, near the med packs,” the medic finally replied, still unsure. “She’s off duty, though.”

But Elliott was already moving.

His boots were quieter now, like he was trying not to wake anyone else—like he cared.

You stirred as his shadow hovered beside your cot.

He didn’t say your name right away. He just crouched down near your bed, elbows on his knees, his fingers twitching against each other like he was bracing himself.

Then, softly, like it cost him something, “Hey.”

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim light. You blinked up at him, confused, still half-asleep.

“Elliott…?” Your voice was soft, hoarse from sleep.

He nodded once, jaw clenched. “Sorry. I—fuck—I know you’re off, I just…”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped to the floor.

“Had another dream,” he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper and completely stripped of his usual demeanour. “Same one. Only worse.”

You could still see the sweat on his brow, the way his hands wouldn’t stay still. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Not from you.

“Can I stay?” He asked suddenly, almost too fast. “Just for a minute. Just… until it goes away.”

Your heart ached a little. You nodded without thinking.

“Yeah,” you whispered, pulling the thin blanket back a few inches in silent invitation before sitting up against the steel frame of the cot. “Of course.”

Elliott exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole time. He climbed in slowly, cautiously, resting against the frame beside you like he was afraid he’d break something.

He didn’t touch you. Not at first.

But the second your head fell on his shoulder and your hand found his—warm, calloused, trembling slightly—he held on like it was the only real thing in the world.

Eventually, he rests his head on top of yours, and whispers your name, like it's the only soft thing left in the world.

You didn’t speak after that. You just lay there, the weight of the day and the war and the nightmares suspended for a while. And even though the bed was barely big enough, and the night was still humming outside, somehow, sleep came easier this time.

For both of you.

@cosmosbabydoll

[hadarlaskey]

Discover the digital film festival where you’re on the jury

With most film festivals celebrating the long-awaited return to in-person screenings, ArteKino remains a torchbearer for virtual viewing. The festival takes a love for cinema and opens it up to the European public – with no advance Covid tests required – by offering another edition of robust programming to discover.

Europe-based audiences with the inclination to seek out exciting new films and catch the hot new auteurs before they’ve exploded onto the scene have a selection of 12 features to choose from in the 2021 ArteKino line-up: from festival favourites to unsung gems that, despite critical success garnered at festivals, haven’t had the ease of finding distribution in movie theatres.

From 1-31 December, viewers across 32 European countries, including the UK, can explore the selection in six close caption languages (French, German, English, Spanish, Italian, Polish) accessible through arte.tv and ARTE Cinéma on YouTube. Being entirely free and unequivocally promoting participation, viewership lies at the heart of this collaboration between cultural programming channel ARTE and screening platform Festival Scope, giving viewers the chance to vote for our favourite film to win the ArteKino Audience Award. So all there is left to ask is, what does this year’s programme have in store?

The curated selection combines poetry and politics, subjectivity and authenticity, innocence, loneliness and struggle for survival, offering a snapshot of the eclectic spirit at the core of contemporary European cinema.

Gender and hardship are central to this year’s thematic undertakings. Call Me Marianna is Karolina Bielwka’s first feature-length documentary, and it swept four awards at Krakow before winning the Zonta Club Prize at Locarno. We enter the private sphere of a 40 year old Polish trans woman who has legally had to sue her parents in order to pursue sex reassignment surgery. The film expresses the turmoil of being trapped in a prison of flesh that doesn’t feel yours, as much as the solace that gender affirming surgery can offer to a trans person living in Poland.

Another emotional documentary on women whose courage doesn’t waver lies in Masha Kondakova’s documentary Inner Wars, which takes the filmmaker directly into a warzone. The ongoing conflict between Ukraine and Russia is presented through the eyes of three Ukrainian women on the frontline who are also consistently fighting on the front against patriarchal standards and the media’s caricatured representations of women in the army.

An unexpected relationship forms the basis of Nathalie Biancheri’s kitchen-sink drama Nocturnal, in which an emotionally stunted yet sensitive brute in his 30s forms a precarious friendship with a 17-year-old student, providing a compelling portrait of flawed masculinity and a remarkable performance by British actor Cosmo Jarvis. In Süheyla Schwenk’s Jiyan, a similar unlikely relationship develops between a young mother and her aunt-in-law, after a young couple moves from Syria to Berlin to provide a better life for their unborn child.

With an intimate portrait of her brother and mother, Paloma Sermon-Daï’s Petit Samedi looks at a painful relationship with addiction and dependence which intertwines the personal and familial. A family living in the idyllic Southern Italian countryside, where Sara Summa’s The Last to See Them takes place, lives its last moments of quotidian simplicity with an overarching sense of foreboding. Maternal love and its shifting meanings are also explored in Jonas Bak’s atmospheric Wood and Water, a psychological investigation of a woman who, upon entering retirement, abandons her solitary life in rural Germany to travel to protest-ridden Hong Kong.

Political critique frames the hybrid doc Uppercase Print, a 2020 Berlinale favourite by prolific director Radu Jude. A forgotten piece of Ukranian history is dramatised through the theatrical conceptualisation of a Romanian teenager’s protest against the dictatorship of Ceausescu. Theatrical reconstruction is juxtaposed with archival footage and looks at state surveillance, the banality of dictatorship, and the vitality of Romanian youth.

Astute explorations of adolescence are to be found in LOMO: The Language of Many Others by Julia Langhof, a portrait of online coming of age and computerised teenage angst, as well as Ivan Ikić’s Oasis, where an unanticipated love triangle forms between three teenagers navigating feelings of desire and envy in a special needs institution. Blossoming teen friendships in the suburbs of Zurich is Karin Heberlein’s contribution to coming of age with Sami, Joe and I, while Marysia Nikitiuk’s tactful portrayal of innocence, fragmented identity and tragic romance in When the Trees Fall, looks at rural Ukraine through a lens of magical realism.

As you can see from this line-up, this is a selection of engaged and engaging works which seeks to explore the trials, tribulations and traumas of contemporary Europe. Watch them all and vote for the one which speaks to you the loudest.

ArteKino 2021 runs from 1 to 30 December. For more info visit artekinofestival.arte.tv

The post Discover the digital film festival where you’re on the jury appeared first on Little White Lies.

source https://lwlies.com/festivals/artekino-digital-film-festival-programme/

[zefive]

ten songs you currently love, tagged by @reitziluz

pppp, imma cheat and just do ‘ten songs i love in general’ because otherwise there’d be like. two songs. :B (also wow this took me forever)

Wayfaring Stranger, from No Evil because seriously, i love this song. i love this show. it’s so damn fantastic, and i’m just. in doki’s ya’ll. 💖

Hot Milk, by Snail’s House i don’t know what it is about this song, but it’s so nice to listen to!! sometimes i just put it on to have it in the background.

How Far I’ll Go, from Moana this song. i love it, it’s so catchy, it’s so good. plus, Moana. ❤️

Glittering Clouds, by Imogen Heap i’ve honestly been in love with this song since i first heard it, which was like years ago. actually, i really just like Imogen Heap in general?? such good.

Kitchen Fork, by Jack Conte my favourite ‘creepy song’! it’s really good, and kind of haunting? also really cool to watch how it’s made!

Gay Pirates, by Cosmo Jarvis okay if you haven’t heard/watched this, go do it. it’s so good. plus!!! pirates ❤️

Stray Italian Greyhound, by Vienna Teng i just really love this song? like, the mood of it is so good.

Say Something, by A Great Big World heard this one ages ago, and ever since then i’ve just went back to it again and again. it’s fantastic ❤️

La Resistance, from South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut okay so i could not figure out which song to put here, but man, i love this song? it’s South Park, it’s hilarious, and it does that thing i really like, where all the songs end up in it. or something. i just love this song, imao.

Set It Off’s Cinematics oh man, of course i gotta add this one. it is my number one album, and the only one where i like all of the songs. it’s great.

also honourable mention to Marianas Trench, because i listen to them a lot.

imma tag @sharada-n and no one else, because i just wanna know what kind of songs you like bae. ;)

[superhusbands4ever]

10 Years of SteveTony Fic Rec

As I’m sure you all know by now, today (March 14th) is the 10th anniversary of The Confession and the 10th anniversary of the SteveTony ship!

Since my fic wasn’t done in time to post today (homework and midterms are a bitch), and I wanted to post something today for the anniversary of The Confession, I’ve decided to post a fic rec with my all time favorite stevetony fics of all time! Here we go! Hopefully my anniversary fic will be done by tomorrow lol

It’s long, you’ve been warned. Also, this is in no way an exhaustive list of my favs and when I think of more I might add them lol

Blue Lips, Blue Veins by romanoff - Explicit, 300K

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

Before that, he was an man with bigger heart than brain. Before that, he was an asshole with a bigger mouth than sense. And before that, he was was a scared little boy. Not that it matters. Stark's always have had iron in their backbone.

+ This is my absolute favorite fic of all time, honestly. It covers Tony’s entire life, literally from the minute he’s born and it shows, very well I might add, how Tony’s childhood and growing up affecting him mentally, emotionally, and developmentally. Maybe it’s because I’m a psych major at school, but this fic really got me. It is also the fic that started my headcannon of Tony as bipolar 2, and the portrayal of mental illness is so on point and accurate, I love it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster and you’ll cry a lot but it is soooo worth it. This fic is probably one of the best, if not the best Tony-centric and SteveTony fics of all time. I just love it so much.

The Last Love Song of Anthony E. Stark by jibrailis

After contracting an Asgardian virus, Tony starts forgetting things. And people. And Steve.

Winging It by arianapeterson19

The problem was that none of the important things - like life- came with a how-to guide. Everyone was just winging it and Tony wasn't entirely sure if he was okay with that.

Namesake by missbecky

An innocent question leads Steve to look up Edwin Jarvis, the former Stark family butler who gave JARVIS his name, and bring him back to New York to see Tony one last time.

When Life Becomes a Play (and I Don’t Know the Role I’m Cast) by firelord_zutara

Months after the Battle of New York, the team moves into the tower. Tony and Steve keep dancing around each other, but besides his feelings towards the man, Tony has enough to deal with, what with trying to come to terms with himself and his own, personal issues.  

He struggles through and through, but in the end, there's only one person who can save him -- the one person he hates the most: himself.

Deep in the Heart of Me by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

There were days when the realization that he was someone’s father made Steve's head hurt, but mostly he was grateful that he could trust his instincts, because apparently Peter was what had been missing from his life. Yes, he still had lingering, unresolved issues from his time in the Army, and sure, he had what Bucky annoyingly referred to as a criminally untapped ass, and no life outside of work and Peter, but Steve was okay with how his life had turned out because of trusting his instincts.

Unfortunately, those same instincts had straight up betrayed him by going absolutely haywire upon being exposed to Tony Stark.

Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. For his 40th birthday, Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but falling in love is something else entirely. Steve struggles with the idea of actually letting someone into his life. Tony is left trying to keep his heart from being broken while Steve figures things out.

But Loving Him is Red by theapplepielifestyle

"It is- it is not just destined, Steve Rogers. It will reach through the decades, through entire universes if it has to. It will scour the galaxies without rest until the two of you are standing next to each other. Migardians- Migardians call them soulmates, I believe."

-

Through the decades, through layers of realities, through superheroes and tangles of string- it will always be them.

Tales of the Bots Series by scifigrl47 - 487K

When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI.   On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

You Are My Sunshine by tonystarksnipples

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Barely a week after he and Steve's wedding, Tony is diagnosed with lung cancer. Both Steve and Tony take it upon themselves to play the optimist, despite their true worry.

Sing the Body Electric by georgygirl - Explicit, 427K

When a well-meaning nutcase from the cosmos determines that Steve and Tony have one of the strongest soul bonds she's ever sensed, she takes it into her own hands to ensure that Steve and Tony are able to have what she believes every soul-bonded couple wishes — and is made — for.

Too bad she doesn't tell Steve and Tony about this before she weaves her little magic spell. Now, Steve and Tony are forced to come to terms with the fact that the week Tony spent as a woman was not as harmless an exercise as they'd originally thought.

And there's no easy way to fix it.

+ It’s actually part of a series, though it can be read as a stand alone technically, but you’ll get a lot more out of it if you read the whole series.

Say When Verse by ann2who - Explicit, 328K

A series rewriting MCU verse, beginning with an alternate version of Iron Man 2, in which, instead of Natasha, Steve got assigned to help Tony while the genius was slowly dying of Palladium poisoning. Continues there in unfolding Steve's and Tony's journey through acceptance, trust, and eventually love.

+ Covers through CACW

Awakenings Verse by Agent_Orange_III, Brooke_Lynn - Explicit, 351K

The Battle of New York is only hours past, but Steve Rogers’ battle to assimilate to his new world has just begun. Steve realizes his frosty existence since his awakening is every bit as debilitating as the Arctic ice he escaped. He sets upon a journey of self-discovery, even as the Avengers make rebuilding what the Chitauri destroyed a priority, encountering notions of friendship, home, family, and love he’d never considered. But Steve is not alone: Despite efforts to deny it, Tony Stark has to face the fact that his heart has awakened as well. Steve manages to rock Tony’s world in ways he’s never imagined possible.

Awakenings details the romantic, heart-warming, and sexy story of Steve and Tony’s emerging relationship. Their transition from teammates to friends to lovers is bumpy yet charming, exasperating and exhilarating. Simultaneously, Phil and Clint’s love overcomes life-threatening obstacles, Thor finds new amusements in his adopted world, and Natasha and Bruce discover unexpected aspects of themselves.

If you enjoy romance, drama, hurt/comfort, hot sex, emotional growth, humor, heroic friendships, camaraderie, and a sweet, new-fashioned wedding, then this might be the story for you.

Upon Waking by Winterstar

A story of recovery. In a world without superheroes, Tony Stark, the disinherited son of a billionaire, goes to Afghanistan as an embedded media star, only to be held hostage for months until he’s rescued. During his recovery, his therapist Doctor Bruce Banner prescribes an unusual treatment; volunteer work at a rehab center. He meets an eclectic assembled group including a vet who thinks he’s Thor, a physical therapist who might be a spy, and an all American hero, Steve Rogers. It is Steve Rogers, the soldier in a coma, who captures his interest and, eventually, his heart.

Before the Darkness Swallows You by Veldeia

 Steve was gone.

 Tony was all alone in the dark, the blackness of the damp, rock-walled corridor only occasionally broken by the fluttering fluorescent lamps in the ceiling.

 He wasn’t afraid of the dark. An abandoned mine was by no means the scariest environment he’d ended up in. Still, he’d have been crazy not to be afraid of what lurked in these shadows.

Toaster Verse by scifigrl47 - 343K

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously.  Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick.

And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Saving the World (Is Totally A Date) by Wordsplat

Tony discovers Stane's betrayal while he's still being held captive. When he escapes, he sets out to ruin Stane as completely and ruthlessly as he can, playing up his PTSD and quitting his job to destroy Stane quietly from the outside. He also picks up a teaching job-all Pepper's fault-and oh, right, becomes a supervillain. Okay, that one was Tony's fault, but it was totally an accident.

In the meantime, a certain Capsicle is defrosted a year early, and is assigned the task of capturing the notorious Iron Man. It's not going particularly well, if the embarrassingly high number of times he's been kidnapped in the past six months is any indication. When SHIELD decides to help him "adjust" by getting him a teaching job, Steve is skeptical; but then there's Tony, and Steve finds he doesn't mind the 21st century so much after all.

[dilffrank]

I have a really varied taste in music, and I don't really know what genre I would call my faves. And I'm always ready for new music. Can you make a playlist of some of your favourite songs/artist that you think deserve more recognition? I prefer faster music that you can dance to but I don't mind a slower song once in a while and I don't mind if the lyrics are a bit dark. I hope that's enough information. Thank you again!! :D

My music taste varies too, so this’ll probably be a weird mashup of stuff.

(Slower songs)Gay Pirates - Cosmo JarvisHoles In the Sky (ft. HAIM) - M83 *Me and My Broken Heart - RixtonBright - Echosmith Same Love (ft. Mary Lambert) - Macklemore Leave Out All the Rest - Linkin Park **

(Dancing songs) Supermassive Blackhole - MUSE **Wrapped Up (ft. Travie McCoy) - Olly Murs Weekend - PRIORY Everybody (Backstreet’s Back - the Backstreet Boys She’s Kinda Hot - 5 Seconds of Summer All About It (ft. Ed Sheeran) - Hoodie Allen Spotlight - Mutemath **

* from Insurgent (I went through a phase, I 100% regret it, but it’s still a really good song)** from Twilight (don’t judge me, I grew up on Twilight)

I hope you enjoyed this! I have plenty more songs that I did not include if you ever need more suggestions!

want one?

[alienspawnwrites]

Laying Hands: Chapter 12

Read on AO3

A Trip to the Park

“OUT OF SERVICE”

Althea sighed heavily at the sign posted on the elevator doors. There were many upsides to living in one of the tallest buildings in New York City: great views, ample living space, even bragging rights, not that she had anyone to brag to. Facing the exhausting trek upstairs, however, she would trade it all for a small, one-story shack in the middle of nowhere.

Althea had been training with Natasha for a week straight with no marked improvement. She was perhaps a little less out of breath after running laps, but she still couldn’t land a hit or avoid even the most obvious attacks Nat threw her way. It was maddening. Althea had started to wish she did get sore, just so she had an excuse to take a break from the hopeless exercise.

Now that her instructor and the rest of the team were out following up on the lead in South America, she finally had a day off. Yet she still couldn’t seem to escape strenuous physical activity.

There was nothing for it. Unless she wanted to spend the day sulking around her room, she’d have to attack the stairs sooner or later. Resigned, she located the seldom-used door at the end of the hall and prepared for the long climb.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind her that she realized how out of place the handwritten sign was in Stark’s technology-drenched building. It wasn’t just odd, it was suspicious.

“JARVIS, why is the elevator down?”, she called out, but there was no reply. At least, not from the AI.

“You won’t get an answer,” came a familiar voice behind her.

Althea spun around and found herself face to face with Loki. He stood with his hands clasped casually behind his back, a mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his thin lips. He was dressed in his signature all-black suit almost melting into the shadows of the dimly lit space.

“Stark didn’t bother installing his little virtual assistant in here,” he continued, casting his eyes around the barebones, cement passageway. “We’re all alone.”

Althea’s ears grew hot as she took in his suggestive smile.

She hadn’t seen Loki much since their conversation in the training room, though they had crossed paths a few times in the past few days. It seemed he had, indeed, decided to stop his relentless shadowing of her every move. Their relationship, whatever it was, had almost returned to normal. "Normal", of course, being a very generous term.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” She leveled him with a suspicious look.

“Perhaps. Why? Is it working?”

“You don’t scare me, Loki.” No, intimidation wasn’t the word for how she felt now, standing in such close proximity to him.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her response. Clearly he didn’t quite believe her. That was fine. He didn’t need to know the real reason behind her pounding heart and flushed face.  

Changing the subject, she voiced her suspicions. “Why did you put up that sign on the elevator.”

Loki shrugged. “Seemed like the easiest way to get you in here,”

“And why am I here, exactly?” She knew Loki was being purposefully vague, either trying to rile her up or keep her in suspense. His avoidance of the question only confirmed her thoughts.

“Do you trust me?”

That earned an amused huff. “No,” she answered, only half-joking.

“Good answer.” A wide grin took over his features, teeth gleaming wolfishly. “This won’t be pleasant.” With that lackluster warning, he reached out, grasped her shoulder, and sent the world spinning.

Althea blinked. She was no longer in the empty stairwell. Instead, she found herself outside, standing on freshly cut grass, surrounded by trees.

Suddenly, vertigo hit her like a truck. She reeled, her head spinning as her stomach churned. Loki adjusted his hold to steady her, wrapping one arm lightly around her waist as the other braced her shoulder. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing as she fought off the wave of nausea. After a few deep breaths, she looked at Loki. He still held her, watching her with concerned eyes, a surprising gentleness to both his touch and his features.

As she met his gaze, his brow relaxed. She caught a glimpse of his relieved grin before he hurriedly replaced it with his usual blank mask. He took an awkward step back and released his hold on her. It wasn’t until he’d withdrawn his hands that Althea realized it had been the first time Loki had touched her.

“I warned you it would be less than pleasant,” he joked, distracting her from the oddly intimate moment.

“A bug bite is unpleasant, Loki. A paper-cut, Loki, is unpleasant. That… that was…” she looked around, finally taking in her surroundings. She was outside, and not hundreds of feet in the air this time. She reached out a tentatively stroked the leaf of a nearby bush. “Where are we?”

“Central Park. I thought, since you spend so much time looking out windows, you might enjoy some time outdoors,” he said. He held her gaze for a moment, searching her face before he broke eye contact and ducked his head.  

“I thought you couldn’t leave the tower. I thought you weren’t allowed,” she looked at him, puzzled.

Loki looked up with an impish smile. “I’m not allowed.”

Althea narrowed her eyes at him. She knew enough about him now to read between the lines. “But you can.”

“Of course,” he said plainly with a nonchalant shrug. “As I told you before: I have tricks of my own. I can leave anytime I wish. Mortals’ understanding of magic is… rudimentary at best. Certainly not enough to truly contain me. Not for very long, at any rate.” He looked down at her, playful arrogance dancing across his features.

“Surely Thor knows you can just,” she waved her hands around in the air dramatically as tried to think of how to phrase what had just happened. “Magic yourself out whenever you want," she settled on. "He knows what you can do, right?”

“True, my brother has some knowledge of what I'm capable of,” he conceded. “But critical thinking has never been my brother’s strong suit. Thor is very well equipped to handle problems as they arise or when they are presented to him plainly. Thinking ahead, not so much. So long as it looks like I’m locked up and brow-beaten, he won’t imagine the possibility that I’m free to come and go as I wish.”

“Why tell… why show me?” she wondered aloud. If the others found out about Loki’s covert trips outside the tower, they would surely put an end to them, by any means necessary. It didn’t seem like Loki to trust someone with such a secret.

“Because,” he leveled her with an appraising look, his expression serious, “I think you’ve suffered more than your fair share of confinement. And watching you mope around, staring out of windows was getting tiring.” He paused and looked her up and down, scrutinizing her. His eyes paused for a fraction of a second on her hands, then her lips. Suddenly he turned around and began striding away. “Besides, call it mutually assured destruction. Remember, you’re not allowed out either, pet.”

Loki had gone a few yards before Althea hurried to catch up with him, falling into step beside him. “Don’t call me that,” she huffed.

“Why not? It’s apt.”

“It’s demeaning. It makes me sound… lesser than,” she argued.

“You forget I am a god. You are lesser,” Loki countered.

“A god who has to sneak out just to go for a walk,” she said, smiling when he merely scoffed in response, failing to come back with a witty retort.

They walked along the path side by side in silence. Althea would pause every so often, captivated by the display of nature around them. At first, Loki would stop reluctantly, and impatient frown pulling at his lips as he waited for her to catch up, but soon he found himself following her gaze, trying to join her appreciation of whatever tree or bird or pool of water she had stopped to admire.

When they reached the far end of the park, Althea found a bench overlooking a small pond and sat down, motioning for Loki to join her. He did so stiffly, unbuttoning his black suit jacket as he sat. He studied her face, which held a mixture of peacefulness and wonderment, before turning his attention to the water as well. Trees grew right up to the edge of the pond, lush and green in the summer sun. Leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze while their lower branches skimmed and dipped under the surface of the water. Loki couldn’t see what was so interesting.

“Does this simple space really captivate you so?”

“It’s only simple to you,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sure you’ve been places that were way more picturesque or impressive, places that put a little pond and some trees to shame, places I can’t even imagine. I spent over half my life in a place with no windows; no ponds or trees, not even a houseplant. Comparatively speaking, this is the most beautiful place in the world.”

Loki reassessed the view, pondering her statement. He sometimes forgot the tortuous life she had led before she came to live with the Avengers. She was so often joyful and warm, not the sullen shell one would expect of someone who had endured so much. And he had to admit, it was pretty: the way the trailing branches wove rippling patterns through the languid water, the whisper of the wind as it washed over the grass and vegetation. It almost reminded him of his days spent reading in the conservatories back home.

“You’re right,” he said. “This place pales in comparison to Asgard.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice urged him to leave it at that. Despite it, he continued, familiar visions filling his mind’s eye. “It would take your breath away: the palace gardens, the golden city, the Rainbow Bridge, all surrounded by a glittering sea that falls off into the endless cosmos.”

Althea turned to face him, struck by his wistful tone. His eyes were far away as he envisioned his former home, the corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile as if he were recalling a pleasant memory. “It sounds amazing. Do you miss it?”, she asked.

Loki blinked and, with practiced swiftness, rid his face of emotion. “No, I much prefer stagnant little ponds in the middle of a stinking city peopled by imbeciles,” he snapped sarcastically. He stood abruptly, refastening his jacket. “We should go. I don’t care to lose my limited freedom because you chose to dawdle looking at twigs and ducks.”

Althea rose sheepishly to stand beside him. She hadn’t meant to upset him. Before she could apologize, however, Loki planted a hand on her shoulder and the park fell away, replaced once more by bare concrete steps. Without a word Loki turned and exited the stairwell, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.

Shaking, Althea sat on the steps, afraid she might fall down the stairs otherwise, as a wave of vertigo and nausea overtook her for the second time that day. Once it passed, she picked herself up, carefully maintaining her balance, and made her way to her room. She flopped down on the bed, as exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the afternoon as by the aftereffects of teleporting twice.

She had seen a rare side of Loki in the park, a side that could be patient and compassionate, even tender. If only he could maintain that side. She was beginning to see a pattern emerging, a causality behind his sudden changes in mood.

Thor was right, she decided, there was a good heart under all the sarcasm and angry outbursts. She just wasn’t sure if the trickster god was ready to let anyone see it.

As her thoughts lingered on Loki, a foreign feeling rose in her chest, constricting the muscles there. She squinted at the ceiling, trying to place it. Anger? Frustration? Her limbs buzzed with the unnamed emotion. Whatever it was, it demanded action. Her mind made up, she allowed sleep to finally overtake her.

The next morning she awoke single-minded with purpose. Confrontation had never been Althea’s strong suit. Even before the accident, she had been conciliatory to a fault. Her time locked away at the mercy of armed guards and stern authorities had done nothing to change that aspect of her personality. But she was to be an Avenger, she reminded herself. She was going to have to train her temperament for conflict, the same way she had to train her body. Confronting her fellow shut-in about his mood swings seemed like as good a place to start as anywhere.

[cosmosbabydoll]

𝐈 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 🔞

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞 જ⁀➴ 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Elliot puts himself out on a limb just to get the attention of a girl

SMUT!! MDNI!!! softdom!Elliott, masturbation, unprotected sex, p in v, afab reader, oral, mutual pining, sexual tension, reckless Elliott, mentions of gun violence, nurse!reader

You’ve been stationed at this forward operating base for three months—long enough for the chaos of the outside world to become background noise, but not long enough to get used to the constant weight of it pressing on your chest.

You’re a combat medic. Used to blood, screaming, silence. But not used to him.

Elliott.

He’s part of a recon unit that comes and goes like a ghost. Never talks much. He always looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. There’s something feral in the way he moves, like he’s waiting for the next shot to go off, even in the quiet. And yet, somehow, he always finds his way to you when he’s banged up—like tonight.

He comes in late. Shirt shredded, arm torn up, dark eyes hard like he’s still out there, still fighting something. You clean his wound in silence, but the tension’s thick. Heavy. You’ve fought before—barked orders, snapped at him for being reckless, shoved him when he got in your face.

But tonight is different. Tonight, you’re both too tired to argue, too strung out to pretend the air between you hasn’t been charged since day one.

You press gauze to his side. He flinches. Your other hand lingers on his hip to keep him in place. His gaze drags up your body, slow and unreadable.

“Are you always this rough with your patients? ” He mutters, voice low, hoarse.

You smirk. “Only the ones who piss me off.”

His jaw flexes. “Then you must really hate me.”

You stare at him, your heartbeat picking up. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? ”

He laughs, a dry, bitter sound. Then—“Yeah. I fuckin’ would.”

He doesn’t move when you pull the gauze away—just sits there on the edge of the cot, stripped down to his undershirt, sweat clinging to his skin. Blood seeps through the fresh bandage at his ribs, and you should tell him to lie back and take it easy. But you don’t. You just stare at him for a second too long, eyes dragging down his chest, jaw, the curve of his mouth, and the moustache that sits right above it.

You know what this is. You’ve known for weeks. Every look, every snap of tension between you two. Every time he called you “Doc,” it was like a challenge. Every time he stood too close, he lingered too long after a patch-up. Every time you got in his face, and he didn’t back down—just stared at you like he wanted to pull you in and ruin you.

You break the silence first.

“You’re going to split that open again if you keep fucking around like that.”

“I’ll live.”

You roll your eyes and start packing up your kit, but you feel him watching you. Not just watching—tracking. Like he’s waiting for something. Like he’s daring you to say what you’re both thinking.

“Something else bothering you? ” You ask, not looking at him.

“You,” he says flatly. Like a gunshot. No hesitation.

You freeze, hands still.

“Yeah? Well, good thing you can go,” you laughed—ignoring the obvious poking tension he’s only making worse.

You turned around to put the kit back on the trolley, but when you turned back around, Elliott was right behind you—standing now, looking down at you.

“God, I can’t wait anymore.” He exhaled like he was preparing for his next move, and he was.

Elliott leans down with a hand hovering over your hip; his pupils are blown out, but he has a touch of gentleness to him.

You looked up at him with the eyes he’d sworn a million times he hated, but if anyone read the little notebook he kept in his pack—the one thing keeping him from losing his mind—it would tell you otherwise.

Second Week Out

I saw her for the first time; she stood out in all the right ways. I knew instantly that if I didn’t meet her. I’d lose my fucking mind.

Third Week Out

She knows me. I may have gotten shot; it might have been on purpose, but now she knows me. She knows I’m here.

Fourth Week Out

We started arguing about me being “reckless.” I didn’t mind because it was my recklessness that got her to know my name. It was my recklessness that brought me to see her every day, to make sure she was okay.

Fifth Week Out

I’m starting to lose control. I need her to know that I need her. I would never admit this to anyone, but I woke up in a cold sweat—thinking about her, of course. It just happened. One second I was asleep. The next thing I was bucking into my hand thinking about her eyes, the way I would want her to look at me if I was in her. Not my fucking hand. God, this is weird. What the fuck is wrong with me?

It was the sixth week out, and it was time he made his move.

“Tell me to leave, and I will walk out of here right now.” Elliott’s voice was gruff, laced with a thick lust he wasn’t sure you shared.

Your throat bobbed as you met his rather intense gaze again; you both know this is risky, but that only made you want it more.

“Stay.” That was the only word you managed to get out, and it was only a little louder than a whisper.

Elliott took this as his signal—crashing his lips on yours. Instantly wrapping his arms around your waist before letting a deep groan rip from his throat.

You stood on your tippy toes, arms around his neck and hands in his buzzed hair. His moustache tickled against your top lip. This felt surreal.

Elliott was quick to deepen the kiss; after all, he got shot—multiple times, might he add—to earn this kiss. He wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Once his tongue slipped into your mouth, you tasted it. The mint was from one of those stupid pieces of gum he liked popping in your ear way too loud. There was an additional taste of chewing tobacco, not your favourite taste, but the mint masked it well enough.

It was a weird mix—tobacco and mint—but somehow, it felt real. It felt like him. Like this. Flawed and reckless. Maybe a little dangerous, but honest in its own fucked-up way.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against your own, his breath heavy against your lips.

“I shouldn’t want this so bad,” he murmured, his voice barely hanging on. “But I do. I want you.”

Your fingers still rested in his hair, now scratching at the nape of his neck, trying to hold yourself back a little longer. “Then shut up and take it.”

That was all it took. He snapped.

Smashing his lips back onto yours, pulling you flush against him. You moan softly in his mouth. The sound went straight to his dick.

He scooped you up gently and plopped you down on the cot like you weighed nothing. Standing between your legs, he continued kissing you. Hands now rubbing up and down the plush of your thighs.

You were pressed up against him. Hands in what little hair he had. You felt the heat start to grow between your thighs, and you involuntarily bucked forward.

Elliott had you held down pretty well, but this small movement brushed right against where he needed you most. If you did that one more time, he thinks he’d finish on the spot.

He didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to waste what could be the only chance he got.

Quickly he dropped to his knees. Head now between your legs. He took off your boots carefully, making sure not to hurt you. He moved his fingers up to the zipper of your pants.

“Can I? ” He spoke softly but still sounded gravelly.

A quick nod of desperation was all it took for him to pull down your uniform pants, revealing a pair of soft pink panties that were lined with lace. At the top there was a little bow.

He stared for a moment too long; it made you self-conscious, and you tried closing your legs, but before you could, he kissed the bow.

Just a soft peck. He was looking at you when he did it. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered against the bow. Lips grazing over the lowest part of your stomach.

You shivered softly. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time. You tried not to shy away again after this.

He hooked his fingers in your panties before tugging them down. You lifted your hips to help him, same as your pants. He didn’t look down. Not until they were completely pulled off and stuffed into the pocket of his pants.

“You okay, angel? ” He asked, inching closer to the place you needed him most.

“Mhm, just keep going,” you murmured, hand moving to scratch behind his ear. “Please, Elliott.”

That’s all it took for him to pull you closer to his face by the hips. He tucked his face between your soft thighs, leaving a kiss right above your clit.

You shuddered at the feeling. Before you knew it, you felt him lick a stripe between your folds. You let out a small gasp and tried grabbing onto his hair, but it wasn’t long enough.

He grabbed your hand and held it instead. Quickly diving back in, sucking on your clit this time.

It was like he was starving—because he was. He laps up every single drop of wetness that was created under his manipulation.

He grinded against nothing; the friction he desperately needed was so close but so far. He groaned as he continued eating you out. His pace is getting faster but sloppier.

You’ve become a moaning mess under his tongue. You rolled your hips softly, trying to gain a little more friction.

Elliott took this as a sign and moved the hand that wasn’t holding onto yours. He brought two of his thick fingers to your opening, slowly pumping them in as he continued to work his tongue against your clit.

His eyes stayed on you the entire time. Taking in the image of you from where he was placed. He hopes this isn’t the last time he sees you like this. You look absolutely stunning.

“Elliott—shit.” You practically squeaked. You’ve received before, but this was life-altering. His starvation drove you to the edge faster than you had hoped.

His fingers continued to curl inside of you at a slow speed while he licked and sucked at your nub. You didn’t want this to end, but you weren’t sure what was going to happen if you finished.

“Elliott, stop,” you stuttered.

The second you finished your sentence, he stopped. He looked up at you, concerned. His fingers froze, but he didn’t pull them out.

“Are you okay? ” He asked in a panic. “Did I hurt you? ”

You laughed, but it was more of a huff as you were completely out of breath.

“No,” you replied quickly. “I didn’t want to stop, and I was getting close.”

The concern on his face quickly faded. He moved his head right back to where it was but removed his fingers.

Scooping you up by your ass, he pushed his nose deep into your folds. Bathing himself in your juices. He pushed his tongue back inside of you and sped up his pace. His moustache only added to the pleasure.

You quickly threw your head back and let a loud moan escape your throat. Nails clawing deep into his biceps. You quickly unravelled under him with this newfound determination.

Your hips stuttered as an orgasm washed over you. Elliott, on the other hand, didn’t think twice.

He slurped up every single drop you gave him, like this was his final meal. Once he lapped up every last bit, he looked up at you once again.

His face was covered in you, his jaw was streaked with drops that didn’t reach his mouth, and his moustache collected some of it as well.

He gave you a small smile before standing back up. He wobbled for a moment.

The realization quickly hit you. This was the same man you would get into squabbles with constantly. One yelling at the other. All of a sudden he’s gone soft. Was it the tension? Or something deeper?

The thought quickly vanished when his lips met yours. His hand coming up to your cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You moved your hands to his belt, undoing it and letting it drop to the floor as well as his pants. He was left in a pair of boxers, black ones with little teddy bears on them.

You let out a giggle at his boxers, but you were quickly cut off by his lips on yours again.

Luckily what you didn’t see was the giant wet spot on his boxers. He wasn’t sure how you didn’t see, but he was so glad he didn’t have to face the embarrassment.

One thing he learned how to do in boot camp is how to finish silently, because if you were loud about it, someone would catch you.

So naturally when he was eating you out and came undone in his pants accidentally—you didn’t even notice.

You moved your hands to the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His cock sprung out. Girthy and long, it was slightly curved downward but barely noticeable.

You let his boxers drop to the floor before you let go of the kiss. Running your hand along his snail trail all the way down to his dick.

You rubbed the bead of precum across his head.

Elliott let out a small groan. He needed her. He couldn’t wait anymore.

Thankfully you didn’t make him. You held him between your folds and ran the tip of his cock through them. You were aching for him at this point.

As you lined him up with your entrance, you nodded your head. He took this as a green light.

As he pressed in slowly, he stopped at around an inch. His forehead against yours. You both were sweaty at this point, but neither of you cared.

“Keep going,” you spoke softly; you wanted all of him. “All the way.”

You assured him it was okay. He slowly bottomed out, and when he did, he groaned as you bit into his shoulder. There was a slight sting considering how stretched out you were, but it was nice.

You kissed the spot on his shoulder you sunk your teeth into, moving up to his neck to give him more kisses. You rolled your hips slightly, and Elliott held you close to his chest.

He slowly pulled out—almost all the way—before he pressed back in. You moaned against his neck, and he gave you a desperate whimper back.

“I got you, baby.” He whispered into your ear as he brushed his hands through your hair.

He started to gain speed, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt—you would also be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

You moved your head back to rest against his. He gave you a sloppy kiss as he became more desperate with his pace. Fucking you like this would be the one and only time. Maybe it is.

You were a moaning mess in his arms. You clawed at his back under his shirt relentlessly—surely drawing blood. Elliott only fed into it.

He held you with both hands on your cheeks. Holding your head close to his so he could keep kissing your lips. Like he was savouring it. Which he was.

His thrusts were faster than he’d ever gone in his hand. It was euphoric. It also brought him really close really fast. Luckily, another thing boot camp taught him was to control himself. Just to make sure he spills his seed into a sock without making a mess.

You were on the edge. Spent from him eating your pussy out like it was his last day on earth. That he would never get to do it again.

You were close. He felt it with the way you clenched around his cock and arched into him. He kept up his pace just to make sure you gave him all you had left.

You dug your nails deep into his back. Unable to kiss him back. You were short-circuiting. You let out a loud moan into his mouth before coming completely undone. Completely fucked out and dazed.

Elliott was a few thrusts behind you, quickly pulling out and cumming on your thigh with a groan. His seed was thick and hot.

He watched it run down your thigh before you scooped some up, popping your fingers in your mouth. Sucking them clean with a hum.

He looked at you with soft eyes, almost loving ones. He had never really enjoyed sex—not like this.

He quickly grabbed some tissues from the abandoned medical cart and cleaned you up. He helped you back into your pants and boots.

You didn’t ask for your underwear back; you hoped it would bring him back to you. You watched him get dressed and he sat beside you on the cot.

Neither of you said anything. He just rests his head on yours. Hand in hand.

Neither of you were sure what was coming next but whatever it was—along as it brought you two together—it would be the best thing to happen to either of you.

Sixth Week Out

I finally got her. It was good, really good. I’ve never seen anyone look so beautiful, but she’s always been gorgeous. I got an amazing sleep after kissing her goodbye that I wish I could have stayed but it would have just gotten us both in trouble.

Seventh Week Out

She’s been ignoring me. I haven’t seen her since that night. No one will tell me anything. Did I do something wrong? I’m losing my mind. I told Ray what happened but he doesn’t believe it. Apparently a lot of people wanted her. But she wouldn’t let anyone touch her—not like I touched her.

Eighth Week Out

Turns out she got the flu and was out for a week… totally wasn’t freaking me out. Anyways, it happened again and she let me take a nap in her bed when we were off. Ray believes me now considering the hickeys I returned to base with.

Ninth Week Out

We’re being sent back home next week for Christmas. Turns out my parents live an hour away from her. Maybe I should ask to stop by? Would she say yes? God, I hope so.

Christmas

So she definitely said yes. This guys got a girlfriend now!!! This is so stupid. I’m acting like a teenager again. Anything for her though. She got me a present, they were boxers with the squads face on it. I sent it to the group chat and Sam bullied me for it. Erik found it funny. I got her a necklace. It’s a locket with a photo of me in my uniform in it. Since she told me if she could fuck me with my uniform on “helmet and all” she would. I don’t know but again, anything for her.

@cosmosbabydoll @princesssunderworld