#henchman steve

[unproduciblesmackdown]

special little guys nocturnes (night drawings)

[gnome-adjacent-vagabond]

Psst hey *pulls you closer* Canon middle-aged queer relationships and multiple canon queer/queer-coded characters. *lets you go* Go watch Venture Bros.

There are WAY more than these but I can't put em all up here because queer coding is up to interpretation. I say that everyone in Venture Bros is queer until proven straight but that's just me.

I wrote a whole-ass essay and then accidentally deleted it so the wording on this will probably be off, but it feels important so I'm gonna try be succinct.

Minor spoilers ahead! Skip paragraph three if you don't want those, then resume on paragraph four.

Full disclosure, this is a show that started in the early 2000s and has a LOT of issues in the first few seasons as well as a couple in the later seasons. There are transphobic and homophobic jokes, ableism, racism, and sexism. Sergeant Hatred is a walking trigger warning for about three seasons straight. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: DON'T watch this show if you have multiple triggers or are easily offended.

Having said that, these writers realized the problems with what they were writing and have worked to remedy those issues through commentary, retconning, and public acknowledgement of the early seasons' failings. Their opinions evolve and so does the show.

Shore Leave is a flamboyantly gay man who was initially intended to be a one-off joke about the G.I. Joe series and the Village People. Instead he has morphed into a three-dimensional character who presents comfortably as both masculine and feminine. He's in a loving relationship with another gay man, Al, who is flamboyant but tends to be a little less flashy. Steve Summers and Sasquatch have been a happy couple for years now--and all because the epitome of toxic masculinity, Brock Samson, helps them find a quiet cabin away from the government hunting them. Brock's mentor, Hunter Gathers, is a canonically detransitioned trans woman who struggles with her identity throughout the show (I'm still waiting for her to retransition despite the show's cancellation). Hank is perfectly at ease in a hyperfeminine strength suit, and Dean also goes through identity struggles that are never played for laughs and are heavily if not explicitly queer-coded. Vendata's queerness is understated and exists simply as a fact rather than being joked about. Sky Pilot is similar, though slightly more in Shore Leave's camp in terms of presentation. Sheila and the Monarch are self-proclaimed swingers and could be read to be in a poly relationship with Gary, their henchman. Debbie St. Simone has a rather homoerotic obsession with Sheila and is almost definitely bisexual.

The Venture Bros universe is full of queer rep, and the creators of the show write it in with intention. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick talk about wanting it to be treated as fact rather than completely defining each of their characters--they talk about how few women are in the show and why (Johnny Quest and G.I. Joe, the inspirations for Venture Bros, are heavily malecentric and there's constant homoeroticism in them for that reason). They acknowledge the flaws and work to improve themselves and their writing. This has culminated in a surprisingly moving series about love, death, grief, trauma, and change that radiates queer subtext from any angle--especially Dean's journey.

Try the show at least up to season 4. The first three seasons are on Netflix and the rest are on Adult Swim. If you still don't like it, that's fine. Thank you for trying! Just know that it's out there and that it's an example of how human beings can change and become better people. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick aren't perfect and neither is the Venture Bros, but for what it is it's a damn fun (shockingly so) show.

[dooshbeeg]

they mad as hell..

[evilhorse]

I am the master of Matrix Eight…

(Captain America #257)

[daydreamerdrew]

Captain America (2005) #8

[incorrectbatfam]

I just think that a live action Batman movie should just be 2 and a half hours of Bruce trying and failing to get everyone to come to a debriefing session. It'd be full with subplots, like a story inside of a story thing where it's cutting between Bruce and whichever kid and crazy thing /

The haters will hate it because Bruce is the only one who doesnt suit up or get a fight scene

[Gotham Harbor]

Steph: *taking down Kite Man on a sinking stolen fishing boat*

Steph: Good thing I followed you down here. I knew something was fishy.

[Batcave]

Bruce: None of them are here yet? The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.

[Crime Alley]

Jason: *shoots a henchman*

Jason: I've burned through your last reserves. It's just you and me, Sionis.

[Batcave]

Bruce: *paces back and forth while checking the clock*

[downtown]

Dick: *in a motorcycle chase with the Riddler*

Dick, into his comms: Oracle, update on the bomb threats?

Barbara, from the Clocktower: I've located both bombs inside the bank vault. I'm dispatching Huntress and Batwing to diffuse them while Flamebird and Azrael are on crowd control.

Dick: You're the best.

[Batcave]

Bruce: *checks the computer*

[Gotham University]

Bernard, whispering into his phone: Punchline is holding the chem lab hostage.

Tim, watching from a rooftop: I have eyes on the situation. Bluebird is scoping the perimeter as we speak.

[Batcave]

Bruce: *takes a bathroom break*

[Kahndaq]

Cass: *staking out Lady Shiva's new hideout from over a dune while munching on chips*

[Batcave]

*toilet flushes*

Bruce: *comes out with toilet paper stuck to his shoe*

[Nanda Parbat]

Damian: *fighting Ra's and a bunch of assassins one-handed while while dangling off a mountaintop*

[Batcave]

Bruce: *checks his watch again*

[Iceberg Lounge]

Kate, in disguise: You sure about this?

Selina, also in disguise: I know Penguin. Just follow my lead.

[Batcave]

Bruce: This is seriously not like them.

[space-time continuum]

Duke, falling through the multiverse: AAAAAAAAHHH!

Duke: *faceplants in another dimension*

Miles Morales: Wrong universe?

Duke: How'd you know?

Miles: It happens.

Miles: *hits a button and sends him back*

[Batcave]

Bruce: *has his back turned*

Dick: *rides in on his bike*

Tim: *swings in*

Jason: *walks through the door, wiping blood off his helmet*

Steph: *picks a sardine out of her hair*

Cass: *shakes off the sand*

Kate and Selina: *toss their disguises aside*

Damian: *sheaths his sword*

Barbara: *patches in over video*

Bruce: *turns around*

Bruce: Excellent, you're all on time.

Bruce: Wait.

Bruce: *does a headcount*

Bruce: Where's Duke?

*portal opens in the ceiling and Duke falls out*

Duke: Present.

Bruce: Good. Alfred, pull up the briefing.

Bruce: *looks around*

Bruce: Alfred?

[post-credit scene]

Alfred: *sipping a coconut on a beach*

Alfred: I needed this vacation. I have been nonstop working since 1944.

MCU elderly Steve Rogers: You and me both, pal.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The hollowness remains. It feels like there’s stones rattling around in your chest. You don’t think you ever truly understood the word frazzled until that moment. 

And each time you glance over and see Rogers’ bloody knuckles, it adds to the frenetic energy trapped inside you. Your mind flashes with the sight of him on top of that man, fists raining down, blood on the asphalt. Each time, a tide of dizziness threatens to sweep you away. 

He finally pulls up to a grey brick building. You look at your watch. It’s been barely half an hour since you left the firm but it feels like a lifetime. 

He gets out without a word. You follow suit, or try to. You push the door open, only to be trapped by the seat belt still strapped across you. You grunt and unclick it. You grab your briefcase and lean heavily on the door as you set your feet on the ground. 

You stand and teeter in your short heels. Where are you? Scratch that. You don’t want to know. You know that it’s best to know nothing and not ask any questions. 

“Hurry up,” Rogers hand curls around the top of the car door. You step away and he swings it shut. He points tersely to the building, “in.” 

You obey, gripping tight the leather handles of your bag, and scurry ahead of him. You feel like a mouse with a cat slowly stalking you from behind. 

There are two men standing outside the doors of the building. You look between them with wide eyes. They don’t seem to see you but are quick to nod to the man at your tail. 

“Rogers,” one intones and gets as much answer as you have so far. 

The blond henchman opens the door and you flit inside. This is like a cartoon. It’s absurd. You don’t know much about these type of people, you were never into those movies. Kind of boring in your opinion and besides, this is real life. 

“Hey, you’re going the wrong way,” Rogers calls as you turn left without thinking. “Up.” 

He points upstairs and you turn back and nod. You show your teeth and push your shoulders up, “sorry.” 

He waits and walks up at your side. Your eyes trail again to his hand. His long fingers twiddle in agitation. Would he do the same to you if you step out of line? 

You trip over the top step and he catches your arm before you can topple. You suck in air, terrified, and right yourself. 

“Sorry, er, thanks,” you utter. 

He lets you go with a sigh and points to his right. You’re going to mess this up. God, why did Brenner send you? You’re a new accountant, you aren’t prepared for any of this. Well, they didn’t exactly offer a class on the underworld, did they? 

“You’re breathing loudly,” Rogers says as he stops at a door. 

You blanch and hold your breath. You look at him and blink. His brows arch. 

“You can breathe, just... quietly,” he shakes his head. 

He taps on the left door in the double set before you. He drops his hand to the curled candle and pushes inward. You stare at his knuckles again. He nudges you ahead of him. 

You walk into the room as you wring the handles of your briefcase. There’s a man inside. Is he the big bad? Then what does that make Rogers? 

You look between them and sway. Your head is spinning. You haven’t had breakfast yet. 

“Buck,” Rogers says dully.  

“That them?” The man behind the desk asks. His dark hair is swept back as his thick beard defines his already square jaw. He wears a silver tie and a black suit. These men might be criminals but they dress well. 

“She can count,” Rogers says. 

“Great,” the other man replies flatly. “And she understands?”  

“She does.” Rogers assures. 

Your eyes skitter back and forth. What are they talking about? What do you understand?

The man he calls Buck exhales. His eyes lower and you follow them. Once more you’re looking at the bloody knuckles. 

“You been scrapping?” The man behind the desk accuses. 

“Keeping order,” Rogers crosses his arms. 

The other man tuts and looks at you, “what did he do?” 

Your eyes round and your head swirls. You tilt your head one way then the other. You can feel Rogers watching you. You don’t know much about being bad, you’re a good girl, but you know you don’t snitch. 

Again the scene plays like a reel in your head. That man’s face smeared across the pavement, the horrible sound of his ribs cracking against leather shoes. 

“I... He did...” you wisp and lock your knees, “he did what needs to be done. You know... he...” 

Your eyes roll back and you tip backwards. You don’t feel the crash. You sink into the black cushion of your subconscious, content to escape into the void. 

You wake in a leather chair. The two men stand before you, looking down at you as your head lolls. You grumble and flutter your lashes. 

“She okay?” The dark-haired man asks. 

“She does that,” Rogers puts his hands on his hips. “She’s awake.” 

“I can see.” The other man sneers and reaches under his jacket. You follow his hand as he rests it on his holster. You gulp at the silver butt of the handgun there. “Time for the talk,” he reaches his other arm above you and leans in. “You hear me?” 

You nod as you stare at the gun. 

“Look at me,” the man demands. Rogers grunts, a warning. You look into the man’s bold blue eyes. “Anyone asks you anything about me, or him, or anything that happens inside these walls, you keep your mouth shut.” 

You slump as your head throbs. You feel the blackness creeping up. He snaps his fingers in front of your face. 

“Stay with me here,” he says. “Look, we aren’t gonna hurt you. Not unless you give us a reason. So, you keep those lips zipped and do your work, you’re good as gold. You understand me?” 

You show your teeth and nod. 

“And as long as you’re working for me, you’re under my protection. Got it? Rogers will take care of you.” He pushes himself straight and turns to face the other man, “get her some water before she passes out again.” 

[nyhti]

Just thinking about how much more social Jervis is than Hugo.

Jervis just always seemed far more extroverted than Hugo to me. Like Jervis readily joins other people's capers and all sorts of rogue get-togethers and what not and then there's his never ending quest to have every seat at his tea parties occupied. He clearly wants to be around other people even if other people don't always want to be around him. Hugo on the other hand is no where to be seen in team-up issues. He doesn't really work with others unless he's the one in charge and doesn't hang out with the other rogues casually either.

Hugo does have social needs as well, but to me it seemed like they are met with, like, having two close people (close by his standards, anyway). One of those two slots is always occupied by Bruce and the other is filled in by whoever he has around who's above an average henchman (Magda in Steve Englehart's run with whom he had an actual relationship with and then Dora in Transference, with whom... uuuhhhh... well that was a situation).

But just because he doesn't need much to have his social needs met, doesn't mean he doesn't desperately need them met. When he had no one in Gerry Conway's run what did he do? He build life-like robots that talked to him and laughed at his jokes. Conway's Hugo continues to be one of the saddest Hugos of all time to me. And then when they let Doug Moench write him he uuuuhhhhhhh... when he had no one in Prey, he uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... in his loneliness he uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Listen, I have many issues with how Doug Moench wrote Hugo, but his desperation for another human's touch was not ooc.

He's also just far more reserved and quiet than Jervis is in general. I recently read Salvation Run again and it was quite fun to compare the two in it. Like first of all they play no part in the story and are barely there at all, but Jervis still pops up here and there to say a few lines, like he's clearly part of this whole thing and feels the need to give his opinion on everything, but Hugo? Hugo says one half a sentence and then we never see him again lmao. Of course that's just the writer not feeling like putting him in scenes, but the way I read it was that he didn't want to take part in anything, just like the way he's always MIA whenever there's some sort of big event with all the rogues.

Idk, Hugo has that delicious dichotomy of how differently he presents himself in a social situation when he's in charge of everything versus when he's not. How dominant and talkative he is when he's the one who holds all the strings, when the people he's interacting with are his henchmen, his monster men, or people he's close with. But then when forced into a social situations where he has no control, he gets quiet and he isolates. He's unironically a little bit shy.

One of the characters of all time, but anyway, what I'm trying to say is that somehow, someway, out of the two of them Jervis is the one to go:

[valentinebugzee]

I for one would like to know more about the sonic boom stone AU :]

I wrote a fic abt it here

But If you wanna know more:

(Some of this is about the AU in general not just stone)

-Stone's backstory is very similar to the events of the comics (He got his boss arrested and took over the shop)

-Eggman and Stone are boss and henchman at first, but eventually it turns into something more when he (Eggman) join a dating game show against Balinda and Charlie, they pretend to be dating, at the very end Stone confesses that he has always had feelings for Eggman and Eggman's the same (they lost the damn show cause the host found out they were pretending)

-Stone's favorite member of team Sonic is Tails

-His least favorite is Sticks for... obvious reasons

-Stone and Shadow form a father and son/daughter (depending on when I'm gonna trans Shadows gender in the Au, she's transfem) relationship because of muffins and coffee, Shadow claims that he's "the only person worth talking to in this village"

-Stone is a homewrecker...like literally, he sends married people fake love letters with aliases and makes sure their spouses find it.

-Stone has beef with Dave the intern, and not the fake kind meh burger serves.

-Maria is alive in this AU, she's also a supervillain like robotnik.

-Shadow was put in stasis when he was 15, he was separated from Maria and that's what caused her to become evil.

-She crashed the lab 30 years later (the timing matters so sorry not 50 years 😞) and freed Shadow

-They caused mayhem on an island different from Sonic and team's island, it had it's own set of heroes which I have not decided who they are yet.

-A literal squabble between Shadow and Maria made Shadow leave the island totally pissed and move to sonic and team's island.

-Stone's relationship with Eggman's family is......okay, mombot didn't like him AT ALL at first so he rewired her into liking him (Eggman doesn't know)

-Morpho/Steve tried to persuade Stone into becoming his assistant after a fight he (stone) had with Eggman (that's flirting in villain language) so he doesn't like Morpho very much.

-He ADORES Maria, When mombot found out that Eggman's cousin is still alive she called for an immediate family reunion.

-He loves Orbot and Cubot when they're not fucking shit up, their relationship is like Benson and Mordecai and Rigby, he's basically their second more chill boss.

-When Stone is not home wrecking he's being a matchmaker, he gives relationship advice to sonic team and he is partially responsible for Sticks and Shadow getting together.

[blackkatmagic]

If ur taking Moonknight ships, Marc Spector and Steve Rodgers with mind control!

“Fuck you, that’s a lie,” Marc hisses, pressed as flat as he can get to the wall of the shrine that the Prince of Orphans led them to. The Mandarin was supposed to be here. The Mandarin is not here.

Scarlet Witch is, though, and it seems like she’s having one hell of a bad day.

Sprawled out in his throne, one leg crossed over the other and a dusty glass of something that absolutely isn't wine in his hand, Khonshu chuckles. “I would never lie to my knight,” he lies. “It’s the simplest way to break her control over him, my son. You asked for a cure and I've provided one.”

“Fuck you,” Marc growls, and ignores the look Clint is giving him from the other side of the small shrine. Clint knows Khonshu is real, or he’d better, after their detour into ancient Egypt that one time when the West Coast Avengers were still a thing. “Give me a different cure. A better one.”

Khonshu cocks his head thoughtfully, like that will hide the gleam of wicked mirth that swirls through the galaxies in his empty eye sockets. “That would require a quest seeking my sister-son Heka, my knight, and a remedy brewed by his divine hands. I don’t believe you have that much time at the moment.”

“If you depart your body now of all times,” Valkyrie tells him, low but very definitely dangerous, “I will tell your cab driver friend where you hid all of his false mustaches.”

Marc grimaces, ducking a little more as there's a loud crash, a thud, a groan. The Prince of Orphans lands hard on the stone, and Natasha drops down a few paces from him, breathing hard with a bruise already disappearing across one cheekbone.

With a loud, ringing thud, Steve’s shield embeds itself into the stone of the wall just to the left of the Prince, and heavy footfalls sound.

“Shit,” Marc mutters, and closes his eyes, ignoring the heavy weight of Khonshu’s amused stare. Breathes, steeling himself—

“Moon Knight,” Valkyrie warns, alarm sliding into her tone. “If it is that foolish an idea—”

“All of my ideas are foolish,” Marc tells her. "If he throws me across the room, try to catch me.”

“Moon Knight!” she protests, but Marc ducks away from her grab, vaults the wall, and then stops dead, something thudding in his chest. Steve is staring at him, looking dangerous as hell in the black of his old Nomad costume, even though no other man alive could probably pull off that V-neck. His eyes are red, though, and his expression is icy cold, in a way Steve would never be when standing in front of his own team. Whatever Wanda did to him—

Whatever she did, Khonshu gave Marc the way to fix it. It’s just a really fucking stupid fix.

“Moon Knight,” Steve says, and there's a rough, almost gravelly edge to it that makes Marc feel like a stupid teenager sneaking Captain America comics and fantasizing about them again. Him again. Which is absolutely not an appropriate thought to have when Steve’s currently a brain puppet of the Scarlet Witch during one of her breakdowns over her teenage kids getting pissy at her. Especially not given what Marc is about to try and do.

Steven would be better at this, Marc thinks, mostly resigned to getting punched in the face. Too bad Steven is a squishy human and Cap would turn him into a slinky.

“Hey, Cap,” Marc says, and tries to think of a way to say how about you let me get within grabbing distance without breaking my arms in a way that will go over well. “If Iron Man sees you walking around like that, you're going to give him the vapors.”

Steve’s expression darkens, and he flexes one hand like he’s imagining closing it around Stark’s neck. That’s a pretty standard reaction to Stark, though. It does give Marc cover to take two steps towards Steve, braced to move if things get violent, and he opens his hands, like an offer.

“Think you want a henchman?” he asks, and hears the bursts of indignation that come from four different directions as the team catches his words. Ignoring them, because Natasha is the only one close and conscious enough to be a threat if they decide to dogpile him, marc reaches up, pulling his mask off deliberately, and tells Steve, “Look, I don’t want to stick with these lunch detention nerd rejects if you're going off to do your own thing, Cap. I can be a good little right hand if you want me to.”

There's a pause, more thoughtful than before, and Steve finally turns, gives Marc his full attention rather than keeping one eye on Natasha and the Prince. “You want to be my henchman,” he says, flat, and the red light clinging to him like a second skin flickers, whirls.

“Henchman, goon, pet damsel if that’s more your speed,” Marc says, taking another two steps closer. He’s almost within arm’s reach now, and Steve still hasn’t tried to twist his head off his neck, so that’s promising. Probably. “I look great in a pink feathered negligée.”

Somewhere behind him, Clint gags pointedly, and Marc tries not to scowl, making a mental note to put ink in his coffee as soon as he gets the chance.

“Pink feathers?” Steve asks, and for the first time his tone slips out of cold anger, right into bemusement.

“I can lounge around your secret lair and let you test it out, if you want,” Marc offers, not even bothering to try for charming. Steven could manage that, but—yeah, Steven isn't going to touch this one. Besides, Steve seems blindsided enough by the offer that Marc steps right up to him, reaches out, and presses a hand to his broad chest without losing his head. When he looks up at Steve, halfheartedly trying to make it looking through his lashes like Marlene sometimes used to do to him when she couldn’t tell it wasn’t Steven in front of her, Steve looks down at him, something Marc can't read on his face, but—well. It’s not violent, at least. Marc got worse responses from other guys in the Marines, and given Steve’s from the 40’s, he wasn’t holding out much hope of better.

“So what about it?” he asks, leaning in, and Steve’s hand settles on his waist—

Marc kisses him, hard, no time wasted with finesse. He slams their mouths together, and feels more than hears the dry-bone-rattle of Khonshu’s laughter. Something burns, burns right through him and into Steve, as bright as the moon hanging full and round above them, and Steve jerks. His arm snaps tight around Marc’s back, and Marc braces to get tossed like a frisbee—

Instead, there's a groan, winded, warm. The kiss gentles, and a hand curls over Marc’s cheek, tips his head into an angle that’s a little less awkward. It feels a bit like an electric shock, and Marc twitches, almost jerks away, but…this is actually kind of pleasant. Not just awkward bodies, like sometimes happens, but—well. All those years spent crushing on Captain America probably have something to do with that.

Then, slow, gentle, Steve draws back, the shimmer of red around him gone. His eyes are sky-blue again, bright and familiar, and Marc takes one look at him, catches his breath, and says, “Fuck. Cap?”

Steve blinks, blinks again. Then, all at once, his eyes widen, and he says with deep relief, “Marc. You broke her control?”

“It was the image of the pink feathered negligée,” Marc tells him, flat, and desperately tries to jam his mask back over his head before something in his face gives away the whole I have a crush on the most unattainable man in existence thing. “You’re welcome. Thank Khonshu.”

“If I'm thanking Khonshu, I feel like it probably wasn’t that,” Steve says, and grimaces, putting a hand up to his head. “Ugh. I think I have a migraine.”

“Wanda’ll do that to you,” Clint says, cautiously poking his head above the edge of the low wall. “Moonie, did you really just break the evil witch’s curse with a kiss? Are you a fairy tale princess?”

“No, I'm Sailor Moon. And Wanda’s not evil,” Marc says, rolling his eyes, and drags his mask down a little more securely. “Shut up, bastard.”

Khonshu, still chuckling, tips his glass full of unidentified and unsettlingly-colored liquid at Marc. “You would make an excellent henchman, my knight,” he says, and is gone in the space between seconds.

“Damsel?” Natasha asks judgmentally, raising one red brow.

“Who wouldn’t want an easy retirement?” Marc counters. “If Cap wanted to take over the world, I think he could.”

Natasha weighs that for a moment, then snorts and waves in agreement, leaning down to check the Prince of Orphans.

“Please don’t ever let me take over the world,” Steve says, one hand still pressed over his eyes. “Even for the sake of your retirement.”

“Don’t look at me,” Clint tells him. “I look terrible in pink feathers. And my kiss can't break a curse.”

Marc flips him off, going to grab Steve’s arm and steer him out of the shrine. “Come on,” he says pointedly. “You should probably lie down. The birdbrain can handle getting everyone back to the ship.”

“While you play damsel? Come on, I can rock purple feathers—”

“Not as well as Moon Knight,” Valkyrie says, and between her and Natasha, they heave the Prince up. “Retrieve the good Captain’s shield, Hawkeye.”

Marc very firmly kicks the door closed before he can hear Clint’s protest.

Steve makes a quiet sound of amusement, body heavy where he’s leaning on Marc’s shoulder. “Do we need to have a talk about you offering to be a villain’s henchman?” he asks.

Marc rolls his eyes. “Only yours,” he counters, but instead of getting uncomfortable, the way he expects, Steve shoots him a thoughtful look.

“We should have downtime in Berlin once this mission is over,” he says after a moment. “I know you normally go back to New York, but you should stay. If you meant that kiss.”

Electricity, again. A frisson, sharp through Marc’s nerves, but—it makes breathing a little more difficult than it really should be.

“I could mean it,” he says, and looks away, feeling entirely too self-conscious. It was a bad kiss. Right up until Steve took over. “Assuming I didn’t scare you off.”

“I'm hard to scare,” Steve says gently, and—

Well. There's a fine line between supporting Steve and walking with Steve’s arm over his shoulder. Not that Marc is about to protest.

[glennk56]

Jacques Aubuchon in the 1950s (3 of 4)

Jacque Aubuchon's only film in 1958 was Thunder Road. He played a gangster trying to muscle in on the moonshine business in the south. Robert Mitchum is his adversary preventing him from his goal. This film is a cult classic of the moonshine runners and NASCAR set. It is also known for the acting debut of Mitchum's son James.

Jacques Aubuchon was in the initial show of Behind Closed Doors, a show based on actual American Counter-espionage. Here he plays a Government official first posing as a fishing tourist, then asking the captain if he would help out in surveillance of the shore before a rocket launch. Is it me or is Jacques' pants getting a little tight in the front in the next to last photo. Then his hands immediately find his pockets to hide it.

Aubuchon is a criminal who hijacks a riverboat before a high-stakes tournament in an episode of Bat Masterson in February 1959. His henchman is Walter Barnes.

And here he is as the Judge of a kangaroo court for this little community that Paladin runs afoul of in this March 1959 episode of Have Gun-Will Travel.

Here he is a bully and self-proclaimed Mayor of this western town who is brought to justice by Steve McQueen in this March 1959 episode of Wanted: Dead or Alive.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[green-fifteen]

HENCH

tags: not!fic, stobin, russians, post-starcourt, POV outsider

word count: 1744

The intention here is slapstick levels of tomfoolery and incompetence. In which I give a henchman every opportunity to put the clues together.

written for @stobinmonth prompt: pins (but it quickly grew out of hand)

So after the mall "fire," the Russians are humiliated. They have just enough information about the trespassers that caused this disaster to be able to start a manhunt. Obviously, they're a bit low on resources, but after a few months they send the best guy they have left. Let's call him Igor.

Now, Igor is not supposed to be going into the field. Father said he only had to man the camera feeds for a little while and then he'd get promoted out of the lower ranks. But Father was crushed to death underneath a mall and the remaining leadership think he looks tough because he has broad shoulders. Therefore, despite his personal objections, he is sent into greater Hawkins, Indiana to sniff out their enemies.

Igor has heard a little about these enemies. He heard the special agent was insolent and stubborn under torture. He heard the accomplice who rushed in to save him was a mighty terror of a man, hulking over everyone in the room. It makes him cautious as he settles his equipment into his motel room, eyes tracking suspiciously over anyone taller than average.

Luckily, he seems to attract very little attention as he stalks the town. Even when he can't find cover, the townspeople don't seem to look at him twice. He gets a little more confident and starts entering buildings, notepad held open in front of him. He checks the name tags pinned to the clothing of service workers, looking for Steve, looking for Dustin Henderson. These are his only leads and he finds nothing. He begins to wonder what he is doing. After all, wouldn't highly sophisticated and well-connected spies have moved on from this tiny little town by now? But leadership is certain Steve at least is hiding in plain sight, working a low-income job to stay off their radar. Apparently, he'd been wearing some kind of ice cream costume when he'd been apprehended. He just keeps checking.

On his eighth day in town, Igor gets bored. He goes out during the day to surveil the town in person, then returns to his room to surveil their transmissions overnight. He is tired, he is lonely, and he just wants 90 minutes to himself.

He goes to the video store.

It's a strange country, America. The women on the television are picketing for God while the Family Video is advertising something called Chopping Mall. Igor shudders and keeps looking. He's turning over a film about high school basketball when he hears a voice call out.

"Are you finding everything okay?" says a young woman. He instinctively reads the name tag pinned to her vest.

Steve.

His eyes fix on her face. He watches her carefully as she takes in his appearance-- his dark jacket and close cropped blonde hair. She scoots away a tiny bit as he continues to scowl at her and startles slightly when he thrusts the tape into her hands.

Igor knows this is not Steve of the Starcourt embarrassment. Steve had been an impressive male agent sent to infiltrate their base. Steve had managed to knock out Lev "Rabid Bear" Mikhailov in the control room. He watches her closely anyway as she takes the tape with her behind the counter.

"Um, do you have your card with you?"

He falters. Doesn't know what she's talking about.

"It's okay if you don't? Just give me your phone number, I can look you up in the computer."

Igor hesitates, thinking fast.

"I just moved here two month ago," he says. "I don't remember my number… and my… American wife has the wideo card."

Her eyes go wide and she ducks under the counter. When she emerges, her hands are shaking around a white and yellow book. She squints at him and smiles without teeth.

"Not to worry," she says. "This is the latest phone book. Just came out this month. Let's see if we can find you."

They stare at each other for a few seconds, before her words catch up to his brain. A book with all the names and numbers in town? Forgetting the movie and forgetting the girl who is not Steve, he picks up the book as if he means to page through it.

Then suddenly and without warning, he bolts to the door and out into the night, leaving the girl shouting behind him.

By the next morning, Igor has the address and phone number of Claudia Henderson memorized. It is a little odd, he thinks, that Dustin isn't listed but his wife is. Well, America is a strange country. A whole book of personal information for anyone to find, imagine! When he thinks it's late enough in the morning for someone to be awake, he calls the house.

It rings three times before a man's voice answers. "Henderson house, who's calling?"

Without a word, he hangs up the phone and grabs his shoes. He finally found Dustin Henderson and now it is time to kill him. He is pretty sure he can do that. He even has a gun.

When he gets to the Henderson home, there is a car there. The lemon his superiors gave him is a rusty gray color and looks ancient in comparison to the shiny red vehicle in the driveway. Disdain briefly overwhelms any other emotion he might have been feeling as he abruptly remembers he is here to kill a filthy capitalist. It will be easy, he thinks. He deserves to die, he thinks.

To his surprise, as he steps out of the car, the door of the Henderson house opens in sync. There is a man standing there, young and dressed like he's on his way to work. He wears the vest of a Family Video employee.

A younger, curlier boy is next to him and spots Igor first.

"Holy shit!" he breathes. "I knew it, I was right. It was Hoosiers guy on the phone this morning!" He's bouncing with energy, but he clutches at his friend like he understands Igor has come to his house to kill.

The older boy looks at Igor like he knows him. This must be Dustin Henderson. He is a lot smaller than anticipated, but soldiers have been known to exaggerate.

He takes one step closer and Dustin Henderson is across the yard in an instant, throwing punches. In his brief panic, he doesn't even think to reach for his gun before it's being pulled away from him by the small, curly-headed one. Henderson takes the gun and brings it up and then down onto Igor's head.

When he wakes up, he's cold and his head hurts like hell. There's a strip of something tied over his eyes and around his wrists.

He hears it when his captors notice he's awake.

"He isn't dead!" someone shrieks. The curly boy. He speaks too loudly.

"No shit, Sherlock. Now pipe down." The voice is feminine and vaguely familiar.

Someone prods him. "Hey," they say. "The feds are on their way. Are you thirsty?"

"Don't ask him if he's thirsty! He came to my house to kill me!"

"Listen, man, you've never had a head injury like that." He addresses Igor again. "How's your neck feel?"

What sick game is he playing, pretending concern? He grits his teeth and says nothing. Already he can feeling himself cracking under Henderson's interrogation. This is not good.

The trio converses quietly and then one of them steps forward. "Who have you been sent to find?" It's the woman. Her voice pierces his sick brain like a thin knife.

"Robin, you don't have to speak so loud, Jesus. He's Russian, not deaf. Cut the concussed guy a break."

Break? Igor reminds himself he will not break under questioning. He will not betray his comrades, despite the horrific mind games of his enemy.

"ARE YOU AN IDIOT? Why would you say me name?" she screeches. He can swear he feels blood pooling behind his ears.

"It's not like he isn't already after you, too! You were there!"

"But we don't know that! For all we know the Russians are as sexist as they are stupid and managed to forget all about me and Erica."

A humorless snort. "Yeah, because you were both so quiet and unassuming the entire time."

"Guys! Shut up and focus on the prisoner? Please?"

There is a moment of silence and then Igor hears the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. His own gun, he guesses. He never even got to fire it.

"Tell us what you know," the girl called Robin says. There is steel in her voice now.

And well, Igor wasn't exactly trained before being given clearance to the base. Father said it wasn't necessary, that he could learn on the job. Besides, the interrogation resistance lessons sounded horrible and painful. Why go through that when it would likely never happen?

So he is much more disappointed than surprised when he opens his mouth and the truth comes out.

"I am sent to kill Dustin Henderson and special agent Steve. They will die for what they have done to my countrymen."

A shout of anger from Robin. "See! Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me."

"Don't tell Erica," Henderson pleads.

The small one answers. "Good luck keeping it from her."

It is at this point that a siren whoops once from outside and his captors open the door to greet an officer. Igor struggles without much hope and finds himself nearly unbalanced as his seat rocks side to side. Has he been sitting in a boat?

There is the heavy sigh of a grown man and then he is lifted by the arms and led out of the door.

As he sinks into the back of the police vehicle, Igor laments that he not only managed to blow his cover and his mission completely, but he never even set his eyes on Steve. If he were able to make a report back to his superiors, he would tell them that the town is a locked box, no clues, no leads on agent Steve anywhere. He tried his best, but there was no way he could have found the man. He must have left already, just as he thought. It is with a pang of relief that he realizes he will likely never be able to make such an embarrassing report, as the car starts and takes him away from Hawkins, Indiana.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Based on: RRR

[adriantheanimator09]

Ok, so, I tried to list ALL of the Wordgirl villains and I think I did a good job?

Idk I think I might be missing a few, some of these like Raul Demiglasse and Guy Rich I don’t think count as villains but I just put them in bc they’re always depicted as villains, so idk 😭 here’s the list!

Every Wordgirl Villain!:

1. Dr. Two Brains

2. Charlie

3. Two Brains' Henchman “Meatball”

4. Chuck The Evil Sandwich Making Guy

5. Tobey McCallister III

6. Mr. Big

7. Leslie

8. The Butcher

9. Lady Redundant Woman

10. Granny May

11. The Whammer

12. Ms. Question

13. The Coach

14. Invisibill

15. Big Left Hand Guy

16. Timmy Tim-Bo

17. Eileen

18. Energy Monster

19. Nocan The Contrarian

20. Victoria Best

21. General Smoochington

22. Victor Best

23. Mr. Best

24. Mrs. Best

25. Kid Potato

26. Hal Hardbargain

27. The Learnerer

28. Seymour Smooth

29. Captain Tangent

30. Rhyme

31. Reason

32. The Masked Meat Marauder

33. Glen Furlblam

34. Steve McClean

35. Royal Dandy

36. Raul Demiglasse

37. Guy Rich

38. The Amazing Rope Guy

39. Miss Power

40. Colonel Gigglecheeks

Das everybuddy :3 (I think)