#int: tony

[wlnterghosts]

@insidemyblood asked: *there's a box outside Bucky's place that clearly says Amazon. It contains a Nintendo Switch with Mario Kart, Animal Crossing, and Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. It totally wasn't Tony, nope, it was Amazon*

"......god damned sneaky bastard."

Even then, you can see the soft smile on Bucky's face when he opens the box inside of his apartment. Nice try Tony, but Bucky knows the handiwork of a certain genius when he sees it.

[avalior]

@godbloodedi know those eyes / this man is dead

Cold fury swept in a bitter wave across a stony countenance. Though still her siblings exalted their creator, worshipped still the ground Stark walked upon, Torhild would no longer play such a fool.

"The one you seek is long gone. Dead and cold, a story told by those she trusted, those she loved, and those who then moved on."

[cosmik-homo]

its so funny, ive been scouring the net trying to make a timeline for, fan characterization of the droids, and i found the so far earlier chronological droid-centric fic and im like a zillion words in and i want to reach to this lady through the screen and tell her a) shes autistic b) Alfred Montbank 100mg a day perscription.

[frankthesnek]

Why. Why is the suit to sexy???? 😳😩

I don’t think we appreciate how fucking Amazing Tony Stark is at multitasking and how Heightened his sense of awareness/ perception must be though I mean. I mean

Let’s just take a look at everything going on in these Two (2) screencaps alone. How much data do you think he’s processing at any one time whilst in that suit (+ JARVIS AND the rest of the avengers on audio). He reads, evaluates and acts on the info, all in the space of a second before moving on to the next task. JARVIS might give him the information, but it’s tony stark’s brain that processes all that data vomit. On the field, the amount of information he must process in a mere minute must be astounding.

And I mean, not only can tony pilot this shit all on his lonesome, but he can do it with nothing more than a pair of glasses.

Whilst taking a drink:

Whilst Driving a Whole Other Vehicle

Too basic for you? I mean, I guess all he was doing was some basic flight in those, right? Well what about saving thirteen people from a falling airplane and safely guiding them all down to earth again- whilst in a cabin on a boat

Could you imagine trying to do that? I can’t keep a conversation and do 1 task at once. I think we often forget quite how ….brilliant tony’s brain is. Like. The speed at which he would have to process information and act on it is fucking insane. No wonder no one else can effectively create an iron man suit, they just physically couldn’t keep up with it. Tony is one harcore genius motherfucker This Has Been A PSA

[yikesdrama]

for one perfect moment 🩵 (i) — Bucky Barnes

summary: bucky’s birthday is coming up soon and you just want to do something special for him, maybe even take a time travelling trip to see his maa….

word count: 6.6k

warnings: its just fluff, secret birthday planning & a lot of cuteness

a/n: please comment, like & reblog with your thoughts. i’m thinking of making it a three part series.

masterlist | next part

Steve Rogers looked across the table at you, arms crossed, brow furrowed in thought. The room felt warm and quiet despite the weight of the conversation, the faint hum of Stark Tech monitors filling the silence as your words lingered in the air.

Sam Wilson sat across from you, leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild skepticism, but there was something softer in his expression—something almost amused.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam began, tilting his head toward you. “Your brilliant idea for Bucky’s birthday is to—what—borrow Tony’s time machine, go back to the 1940s, and hang out with his family?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the edge of the table. Your voice had a determined edge, but your eyes betrayed a flicker of nervous energy. “I mean… think about it, Sam. When was the last time Bucky had a real family celebration? A moment where he wasn’t running from Hydra or fighting for his life or—” you paused, chewing your bottom lip—“feeling like he’s some kind of burden on the people around him?”

Steve straightened in his chair, his sharp blue eyes shifting from Sam to you. There was a stillness to him, like he was processing your words as if they were mission intel. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally, his voice calm but measured. “But it’s not exactly simple. Time travel isn’t… well, it’s not just a weekend getaway.”

“I know that,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he could build up steam. “I know it’s not simple, Steve, but it’s worth it. You know what this would mean to him. To see his mom & sisters, Steve. Don’t you think he deserves that?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as well, as a slow grin spread across his face. “Y’know,” he said, pointing a finger at you, “I thought this idea was crazy at first, but now I’m starting to think you’re just crazy enough to pull it off. The question is, how do you convince Stark to hand over the keys to his fancy time machine?”

“Oh, I’ve got a plan for that,” you said, brushing off Sam’s teasing tone with a wave of your hand. “Tony owes me. Big time.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” You smirked, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression. “Let’s just say it involves a highly classified Avengers mission, a stray cat, and one very expensive pair of Tony’s sunglasses.”

Sam barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “Okay, now I definitely want to know.”

“It’s not important!” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing. “The point is, I can get Tony on board. But I need you two to back me up. He’s not going to go for this unless he knows it’s not just some ‘sentimental whim.’” You air-quoted the words dramatically, your voice dropping into a passable imitation of Stark’s dry tone.

Steve’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that said he was almost convinced but still holding out for the catch. “Let’s say you get Tony to agree. How exactly are you planning to make this work? The timeline has rules. You can’t just drop in on the 1940s like it’s a costume party.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that. Look, I’ve been thinking this through. We’d be careful. In and out, no interference with the timeline. Just… a quiet visit with his family. Maybe a week, max. Enough time for him to have a real birthday celebration. I mean, wouldn’t you want that if you were in his shoes?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze settling on a spot on the wall. For a moment, the room went quiet. Sam exchanged a glance with you, his humor softening into something more thoughtful. Steve’s voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet but firm. “Yeah. I would.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out across the table, your hand brushing against Steve’s. “Then you understand why this is so important. He’s been through so much, Steve. We all know that. He deserves to feel important.”

Sam let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re laying it on thick. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re whipped for the guy.”

Your face went red, but you didn’t back down. “Of course I’m whipped for him Sam, I’m in love with him. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Steve and Sam both froze, their expressions caught somewhere between surprise and something softer.

Steve blinked, his hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Well,” he said, his voice low, “I can’t argue with that.”

Sam recovered first, his grin wide and teasing. “You’re really pulling the romance card, huh?”

“Shut up, Wilson,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your voice. “Are you in or not?”

Sam laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m in, I’m in. You had me at ‘time machine.’”

Steve sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “But we do this by the book. No cutting corners, no unnecessary risks. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said quickly, your eyes bright with excitement. “Thank you, Steve. I mean it.”

“Alright, so what’s the next step? Do we just march into Stark Tower and ask Tony for a favour.” Sam clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Because I’ve gotta say, I don’t think the guy’s gonna go for it without some serious persuasion.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’ve got a plan.”

Later that evening, the three of you stood in Tony’s lab, the soft glow of holographic displays casting blue light across the room. Tony Stark was pacing, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Let me make sure I’m hearing this correctly,” he said, stopping mid-stride to look at you. “You want me to loan you my multi-billion-dollar time travel machine so you can throw a birthday party in the 1940s?”

“Not just a party,” you corrected, your tone matter-of-fact. “A family reunion. For Bucky.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You know, when I built this thing, I had slightly higher ambitions in mind. Like, oh, I don’t know, saving the universe?”

“This is saving the universe,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “His universe.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “It’s important, Tony. For Bucky. He hasn’t seen his family since the war. This would mean everything to him.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You people really know how to tug at the ol’ heartstrings, don’t you?”

Sam smirked. “Comes with the territory.”

There was a long pause, and then Tony shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But if you break it, you buy it. And by ‘it,’ I mean the space-time continuum.”

You beamed, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room had brightened. “Thank you, Tony. You have no idea how much this means.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, waving you off. “Just don’t make me regret it. And keep Rogers out of trouble while you’re at it. Don’t want him to end up fighting someone in the alley.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He had a feeling this was going to be one birthday Bucky would never forget.

That evening, the living room of the Avengers Compound had never felt so cramped. Steve sat in his usual spot, his arms stretched over the back of the couch, trying to look casual while his stomach twisted with the weight of your not-so-secretive plan.

Next to him, you perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, your knee bouncing nervously as your eyes flicked between the TV and Sam. The movie playing on the screen was some action flick that none of you were actually watching—except maybe Bucky, who was obliviously sprawled out on the recliner, munching on popcorn.

Steve couldn’t help but glance at Bucky every few seconds, half expecting him to suddenly leap up and call their bluff. It was a ridiculous fear, considering how utterly relaxed Bucky seemed, but it didn’t stop Steve’s heart from racing every time Bucky so much as turned his head.

Sam, seated on the armrest of the couch, leaned over toward you and murmured under his breath, his tone just loud enough for Steve to catch. “So, what’s the next move, mastermind?”

Your lips twitched into a quick, nervous smile as you shot him a sideways glance. “We need to talk to Strange,” you whispered, your voice low but brimming with determination. “But we have to be careful. Bucky can’t know. Not even a hint.”

“Yeah, no pressure,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. He popped a handful of M&Ms into his mouth and slouched slightly, doing his best impression of someone who actually cared about the car chase on the screen.

“Can you two stop whispering?” Steve whispered yelled, though his voice lacked any real authority. He reached for the remote, fiddling with the volume button and turned it up. “If you’re going to conspire, at least don’t do it two feet away from him.”

You shot him a look, rolling your eyes. “What do you want us to do, Steve? Write notes and pass them like we’re in fifth grade?”

Sam smirked, leaning closer to you. “I mean, it might be safer. He’s got super-hearing. For all we know, he’s—”

“Sam,” Steve cut in, his tone warning, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Not helping.”

Bucky, blissfully unaware of the tension simmering behind him, let out a low chuckle at something on the screen. Steve froze, his eyes darting to you, and you looked like you were about to jump out of your skin. Your eyes flicked back to Sam, then to Steve, your expression screaming this is impossible.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said quietly, lifting his hands in surrender. “Let’s just get out of here before you two have a nervous breakdown. We can go talk to Strange.”

Steve nodded, grateful for the excuse to move things along. “Good idea,” he said, standing and stretching like he’d just remembered an urgent errand. “We’ll, uh, be back in a bit, Buck.”

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked casually, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You froze, your face an open book of panic, and Steve jumped in before you could flounder. “Oh, uh… just running an errand. These two are just tagging along for backup.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, finally turning his attention away from the movie to look at you. “Backup? For what?”

“Moral support?” you stated hesitantly.

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement before he covered it up with a cough.

Bucky gave you all a skeptical once-over but eventually shrugged, settling back into his chair. “Whatever. Just don’t die out there.”

“Got it,” you blurted, grabbing Sam’s arm and practically dragging him toward the door. Steve followed, his stomach knotting tighter with every step.

The three of you didn’t speak until you were outside and halfway to Steve’s SUV.

Sam finally broke the silence with a low whistle. “That was smooth. Real smooth.”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks still flushed. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Sam replied, grinning as he climbed into the back seat.

Steve rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door for you to get in & sit, his patience already wearing thin.

Once you were on the road, the tension in the car started to ease, though Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a very fine line. You sat beside him, fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you stared out the window. You looked nervous but determined, your lips pressed into a firm line.

Steve studied you for a moment, his mind drifting to all the times he’d seen that same look on your face. It was the look you got when you were planning something big—something you believed in with your whole heart. He couldn’t help but admire you for it, even if it made him nervous.

“So,” Sam said, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his seat, “what’s the game plan with Strange? You gonna sweet-talk him like you did with Stark?”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the window to look at Sam. “I don’t think Strange is the ‘sweet-talk’ type.”

“Good point,” Sam said with a grin. “So what’s the backup plan? Bribery? Begging? Threats?”

“None of the above,” you said firmly. “I’m just going to explain the plan and hope he understands.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? No clever strategy? No emotional appeals? You’re really putting all your eggs in the ‘logic and reason’ basket?”

Steve cut in before you could retort. “She’s right. Strange isn’t the kind of guy you can manipulate. He’ll respect honesty.”

You gave him a small, grateful smile. You were stubborn, sure, but you were also smart—smarter than you gave yourself credit for sometimes.

When you arrived outside the Sanctum Sanctorum, you were the first to get out of the car, despite the nervous energy radiating off you. Steve followed close behind, with Sam bringing up the rear, muttering something under his breath about “mystical nonsense.”

Stephan Strange greeted you at the door, his expression unreadable as always. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, the red of his cloak catching the door light in a way that made him look almost regal.

“This better be important,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. “I don’t have time for casual visits.”

You stepped forward, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. “It is important. I promise.”

Strange raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the two men behind you. “Alright. Come in.”

The inside of the Sanctum was just as strange and imposing as Steve remembered. You seemed unfazed, though he noticed you glancing around with a mix of curiosity and awe.

“So,” Strange said once you were seated in his study, “what’s this all about?”

You took a deep breath, your hands resting in your lap. “I want to use the time travel machine Tony built to take Bucky back to the 1940s for his birthday.”

Strange blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “That’s… specific.”

“It’s important,” you said quickly, leaning forward slightly. “I just want him to have a chance to see his family again. To know they’re okay. And I promise we won’t do anything to change the timeline. No interference, no big disruptions. Just… a visit.”

Strange studied you for a long moment, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You’re asking me to approve a plan that involves traveling to the past and interacting with people who are supposed to remain unaware of future events. Do you understand how delicate this is?”

“I do,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’ve thought it through. The only thing I plan to do is explain to his family what happened to him—why he disappeared. They deserve to know he’s okay, even if they never see him again. And when I bring him there, it’ll just be for a week. A chance for him to see his family once.”

Strange’s gaze flicked to Steve, then to Sam, as if gauging their reactions. “And you’re both on board with this?”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my birthday, but if it makes Bucky happy, I’m all for it.”

Steve nodded, his expression serious. “It’s risky, but I trust her. She won’t let anything happen to the timeline.”

“You’re lucky I’ve seen weirder requests.” Strange said letting out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Fine. As long as you stick to your word and don’t try to rewrite history, I won’t stop you.”

Your face lit up, and Steve felt a wave of relief wash over him. Strange wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, but he’d clearly seen something in your determination that convinced him.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much this means.”

Strange waved you off, his tone dry as usual. “Just don’t make me regret it. And for the love of all things sacred, don’t try to save Barnes from falling of the train in the past. You’ll just make things worse.”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly. “This is about giving him something good now, not changing what’s already happened.”

“Good,” Strange said, standing and gesturing toward the door. “Now get out of my Sanctum before I change my mind.”

As you walked back to the car, your steps were lighter, almost bouncing. You turned to Steve and Sam, a wide grin on your face. “That went better than I expected.”

Sam smirked. “Yeah, thanks to your sales pitch.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t lose your smile. For the first time all day, you felt a genuine sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this plan was going to work.

Okay, see the thing was Steve had witnessed his fair share of devotion in his lifetime. He had seen love in wartime letters clutched tightly in trembling hands, in quiet glances exchanged across rooms, and even in the sacrifices people made for each other on the battlefield.

But nothing—not in the 1940s, not in the decades since—compared to the sheer, shameless fervor of your love for Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back against the counter of the kitchen, arms crossed, as he watched you chatter animatedly with Sam and Natasha, your eyes alight with that unmistakable spark. You had this way of talking about Bucky that made it impossible not to notice the utter adoration woven into your every word.

It wasn’t just love; it was full-blown, unapologetic obsession.

“And then,” you said, your hands moving wildly as you recounted some small, undoubtedly inconsequential moment, “he just sat there, all broody, like he was single-handedly carrying the weight of the world. And I said, ‘Bucky, you don’t have to pretend to be a tortured poet every time it rains!’” You grinned, clearly delighted with your own story. “He didn’t laugh, of course, but I swear I saw his lip twitch.”

Natasha smirked, sipping her coffee. “Sounds like a real charmer.”

“Oh, he is,” you said, beaming as though Nat’s comment had been an actual compliment. “You just have to get past the murdery vibe, you know? It’s all part of his charm.”

Sam snorted so loudly that Steve thought he might choke on his drink. “Murdery vibe? That’s the phrase you’re going with to describe your boyfriend?”

“It’s accurate!” you insisted, unbothered by the teasing. “You just don’t understand him the way I do. Beneath all that scowling and brooding, he’s—”

“A ray of sunshine?” Natasha interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly!” you said brightly, completely oblivious to the sarcasm, again. “He’s my sunshine.”

Steve suppressed a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved you—he really did—but hearing you wax poetic about his grumpy, perpetually unimpressed best friend was almost too much to bear. It wasn’t the first time, either. In fact, it was a near-daily occurrence.

What astounded Steve the most, though, was how far you were willing to go for Bucky.

Time Travel.

Literal time travel, just so Bucky could have one good birthday with the family he’d lost decades ago. Steve wasn’t sure if it was romantic or utterly insane—probably a mix of both. Either way, he couldn’t deny that it was impressive.

“So,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, “how’s the time travel plan coming along? Did Strange give you the green light?”

“Green as it gets,” you said, practically bouncing in your seat. “He said it wouldn’t mess up the timeline as long as we’re careful. I mean, no big hero moves, no trying to rewrite history, and definitely no saving Bucky in the past.” You paused, your face briefly clouding with thought. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, but you know… rules.”

Sam shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Man, you really would mess with the space-time continuum for him, wouldn’t you?”

You turned to him, your expression dead serious. “In a heartbeat.”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at that, the sound low and amused. “Y’know, I’ve seen people go to some crazy lengths for the people they love, but this…” He gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t quite capture the enormity of your plan. “This might take the cake.”

You turned to him, your expression softening. “Steve, if you could go back and give Peggy one more dance, wouldn’t you?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, his chest tightening as the image of Peggy Carter flickered in his mind. He didn’t answer right away, but you didn’t push him. You just gave him a knowing look, your eyes full of understanding.

“Alright, fine,” Nat cut in, breaking the heavy silence. “Let’s not get all sentimental. You still have one problem, genius. Tony Stark. What’s the plan for getting him on board?”

“We already got Tony on board,” you said smugly, folding your arms as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You? You convinced Tony Stark to let you borrow his precious time machine?”

“Of course,” you said with a shrug. “I just told him it was for Bucky’s birthday, and he rolled his eyes and said, ‘Fine, but if you break it, you’re paying for it.’ Honestly, I think he secretly likes the idea. He’d never admit it, but you know how he is.”

Natasha exchanged a glance with Sam, her expression halfway between impressed and incredulous. “I can’t believe Stark fell for that.”

“Oh, he didn’t ‘fall for it,’” you said, making air quotes with your fingers. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just pretends to be all grumpy and detached, but deep down, he’s a big softie.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Man, I think you’ve got a thing for grumpy guys.”

“Only one grumpy guy,” you said, your smile softening. “And he’s worth it.”

Steve looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn’t used to seeing someone care about Bucky like this—someone who saw him as more than just the Winter Soldier or the guy with a past too dark to talk about.

You saw Bucky. The real Bucky. And you loved him for it.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Tony strolled in, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. “What’s all this about me being a softie?” he asked, his tone dry as he leaned against the counter.

You didn’t miss a beat. “I said you’re a grumpy softie. Big difference.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, I’d revoke your time-travel privileges.”

“Softie,” you said, waving him off.

Tony smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Steve. “So, Captain Sentimental, are you ready to supervise this little field trip? Because I am not cleaning up any timeline messes.”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?”

Tony looked you over, his expression softening just slightly. “You’re really doing all this for Barnes?”

You nodded, your eyes shining. “He deserves it.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, then he nodded, his usual sarcasm melting away. “Well, good luck, sunshine. Try not to get too lost in the 1940s.”

As Tony left the room, the conversation drifted to logistics—timing, equipment, and all the little details that needed to be ironed out before the mission. But even as you talked, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about what Tony had said.

Sunshine.

Steve glanced at you, watching as you leaned over a map on the table, your brow furrowed in concentration. You might not have realized it, but Tony was right. You really were a ray of sunshine—Bucky’s sunshine, in the darkest corners of his life.

And for that, Steve couldn’t be more grateful.

A few hours later, Steve sat on a folding chair, leaning back slightly as he gazed at the clear night sky. The rooftop was quiet, save for the faint hum of the compound below and the soft rustling of the wind.

Beside him, Bucky nursed a beer, his metal fingers absently turning the bottle in his hand, the soft clink of metal on glass barely audible. Sam was sprawled out in another chair, his legs stretched long, an empty bottle balanced precariously on his knee.

The silence was companionable, broken only by the occasional sip or the muffled sound of Sam muttering about how the stars weren’t visible like this back in D.C. Steve let himself relax for a moment, the crisp air cool against his skin. But, as usual, his thoughts wandered to you and your relentless energy over the past few weeks.

“You know,” he started, tilting his head toward Bucky, “your girlfriend is disgustingly obsessed with you.”

Bucky choked on his beer, shaking his head as he swallowed the wrong way. “What?” he said, laughing as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Steve smirked, taking a sip from his bottle. “I’m just saying. It’s impressive, honestly. I’ve never seen anyone so… determined to adore someone.”

“Yeah, man. She’s got it bad. Like, embarrassing bad.” Sam laughed outright, his deep chuckle rolling into the night.

Bucky leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a small grin. “You think I don’t know that?” He shook his head, the grin softening into something fonder. “She’s been like that since day one. But hey, I can’t say much—I’m just as bad.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Sam said, raising his bottle in mock toast. “Two of you are a real power couple of mutual obsession.”

Bucky just chuckled, his eyes flicking up toward the sky as silence fell over the group again. Steve let it linger, his thoughts wandering to how Bucky’s face softened every time you entered a room, or how his mood lifted when you were around. It was a strange thing to see—the hardened Winter Soldier so easily disarmed by one person—but Steve couldn’t deny how much you had changed Bucky.

Maybe even saved him.

After a few minutes, Bucky spoke up, his voice quieter now. “She’s planning something, isn’t she?”

Sam, mid-sip, choked on his beer, his coughing fit loud enough to make Steve wince. “What?” Sam rasped, pounding a fist against his chest. “What are you talking about?”

Steve glanced at Bucky, keeping his face neutral despite the mild panic rising in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

Bucky turned to him, his expression amused. “Oh, come on, Steve. She’s been vibrating with energy for weeks. Every time she looks at me, she lights up brighter than the damn sun. She’s up to something.”

Steve fought to keep his expression steady, his mind racing for an answer. He couldn’t exactly tell Bucky the truth—that you were plotting a time-traveling birthday reunion with his long-dead family. Instead, he opted for the simplest approach: deflect. “Could be just a coincidence.”

Wow Steve well done, what a deflect. Idiot!

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, because her suddenly acting like a kid on Christmas has nothing to do with the fact that my birthday’s coming up.”

Steve’s lips twitched. He wanted to feel annoyed at how sharp Bucky could be, but mostly he was impressed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck. Maybe she’s just excited.”

Sam cleared his throat, raising his hands as if in surrender. “Listen, man, I love my life, so I’m not spilling anything. But if she’s planning something, it’s probably just a good old-fashioned birthday party. Cake, candles, maybe some embarrassing speeches. Nothing to worry about.”

Steve nodded, grateful for Sam’s quick thinking. “Exactly. Nothing big. She probably just wants to make it special.”

Bucky studied them both for a moment, his blue eyes sharp even in the dim light. Then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I know she’s up to something.”

Steve exhaled, letting some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Bucky didn’t know. Not really. And as long as they kept playing it cool, he wouldn’t find out until the time was right.

That was when they heard it: your voice, ringing out from somewhere below, loud and unmistakable. “Baby! Come down, I need your help with something!”

Sam froze, his bottle halfway to his lips, before glancing at Bucky with a grin that was entirely too pleased. “Baby, huh?”

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She had to call you that now?”

Bucky’s grin stretched wide, his expression a mix of amusement and pride. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called back, his voice louder than yours. “I’ll be down in a minute, babydoll!”

Steve closed his eyes, willing himself to have patience. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. A six-foot-three super soldier—grumpy, broody, intimidating Bucky Barnes—was casually calling you “babydoll” in front of them like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sam, predictably, couldn’t contain his laughter. “Babydoll?” he repeated, his voice cracking with amusement. “Man, I’ve heard it all now.”

Bucky shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. “What can I say? She likes it.”

“And you like her calling you ‘baby,’” Steve added, his tone half-teasing, half-exasperated.

“Damn right I do,” Bucky said, standing up and stretching. “You two can sit up here and laugh all you want, but I’ve got a girl waiting for me. Try not to get too jealous.”

As he disappeared down the stairs, Sam turned to Steve, still grinning. “You know,” he said, shaking his head, “for a guy who used to be Hydra’s deadliest weapon, he’s real soft now.”

Steve chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’ve got someone who loves you like she does.”

Sam nodded, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s good for him.”

Steve looked out at the stars, his mind drifting again. He couldn’t help but agree. For the first time in a long time, Bucky had someone who saw him—not as a soldier or a weapon, but as a man worth loving. And that, Steve thought, was the best gift anyone could ever give him.

Somewhere in 1946, Brooklyn.

The modest brownstone on Brooklyn’s east side stood in quiet defiance of the bustling world around it. Mrs. Winnifred Barnes—Winnie to her late husband and close friends—sat at the small kitchen table, her hands folded tightly together, a pot of tea growing cold on the counter. The house was too quiet now, emptier than it had ever been. Rebecca was at school, and though she tried to keep the chatter alive when she was home, it couldn’t fill the void left behind by James.

Her boy.

It had been several months since the letter arrived, stamped with the insignia of the United States Army. The words blurred in her mind even now, but the message was clear: Missing in Action. Presumed Dead.

Her James. Her troublemaker, her beautiful boy with his wide grin and steady blue eyes. Gone. And no one could even tell her how, or where, or if he’d suffered.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers curling tighter. Every time she thought she had no more tears left to cry, the ache returned, fresh and sharp as ever. But this time, something else lingered—a strange sense of unease, like the air had shifted. It was quiet, but not in the usual way.

Something was coming.

The knock at the door startled her. It was brisk, not hesitant like the neighbors checking in or the pastor bringing by a casserole. Winnie frowned, wiping her hands on her apron as she rose. Her steps were measured, careful, as though the visitor might vanish if she approached too quickly.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a sight that immediately threw her off balance. The young woman standing there looked as though she had stepped out of some dream—or perhaps a nightmare.

Your clothes were strange, fitted in ways Winnie couldn’t quite comprehend, and your hair was loose and flowing in a style that seemed almost scandalous. But it was your eyes that caught Winnie most—a peculiar mix of softness and urgency.

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked, your voice steady but kind.

Winnie hesitated, her hand tightening on the doorknob. “Who’s asking?”

You smiled faintly, “I… I need to speak with you. It’s about James.”

Winnie’s heart clenched, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. “James?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“May I come in?” you asked, your tone gentle but insistent. “I promise it’ll make sense. I just need a moment of your time.”

Winnie hesitated for only a heartbeat before stepping aside. Something in your voice—or perhaps the way you said James’ name—demanded trust, though it made no sense at all.

The kitchen felt smaller with you standing there, your presence filling the room in a way Winnie couldn’t quite explain. She gestured toward the table, and you sat down without hesitation, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Winnie remained standing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as though bracing herself.

“What do you know about my son?” Winnie asked, her voice firmer now, tinged with suspicion. “The Army already sent their letter. Unless you’re here with new information—”

“I am. There’s something you should know.” you interrupted, your eyes meeting Winnie’s with unwavering determination. “I know this is going to come as a shock but Mrs. Barnes, James isn’t dead.”

The words landed like a bombshell, shattering the fragile quiet of the room. Winnie felt her knees threaten to buckle, but she forced herself to stand tall. “What did you say?”

“He’s alive,” you said softly. “It’s a long story, and I know it’s going to sound… unbelievable. But I promise you, every word is true.”

Winnie sank into the chair opposite you, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain you could hear it. “You’d better start talking, young lady.”

You nodded, your hands tightening briefly on the edge of the table before you began. “When James fell from the train, he survived the fall. But… he didn’t come home because Hydra found him first.”

“Hydra?” Winnie repeated, frowning.

“They were… they are… a very bad group of people,” you explained, your voice tightening. “They were part of the war, working in secret. When they found James, they… they took him. He was badly injured—he lost his left arm—but they didn’t care about helping him. They used him.”

Winnie’s throat went dry, her chest tightening painfully. “Used him? For what?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words pressing visibly on your shoulders. “They replaced his arm with a metal one. And then… they brainwashed him. They erased who he was and turned him into someone else. They forced him to do terrible things—things he would never have done if he’d had a choice.”

Winnie stared at you, her hands trembling. “You’re telling me… my boy’s been alive all this time, and he’s been… tortured?”

“It’s worse than that,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “They put him in cryo-freeze, a kind of suspended animation. It keeps the body from aging. They would wake him up every now and then, make him do their missions, and then put him back on ice. He was never in control, Mrs. Barnes. Not once.”

The room seemed to tilt, and Winnie pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand. If all this is true, why hasn’t he come home? Why hasn’t anyone told me?”

“He couldn’t,” you said softly. “Not until recently. But now… now he’s free. He’s safe. And I wanted you to know that.”

Winnie shook her head, disbelief and hope warring in her chest. “How do you know all of this? Who are you?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’m from the future. From 2025.”

Winnie stared at you, waiting for you to laugh, to smile and admit it was all some elaborate joke. But your face remained serious, your eyes filled with an honesty Winnie couldn’t deny. “The future,” she repeated faintly.

“Yes,” you said. “I know how it sounds. But it’s true. I came back to tell you about James because… because you deserve to know.”

Winnie leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. None of it made sense, and yet something about your voice, your demeanor, made it impossible to dismiss you entirely. “If you’re from the future,” she said slowly, “then tell me something else. Tell me about… Steven Rogers.”

Your expression softened. “He’s alive too.”

Winnie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No.”

“He is,” you said, your voice gentle. “He survived when he put the plane down in the water. They found him 70 years later, frozen in the ice, but alive. Just like James.”

Winnie felt tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. “They’re both alive,” she whispered. “My boys are alive.”

“Yes,” you said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “And they’re together. Living in Brooklyn. James is free, Mrs. Barnes. He’s been pardoned for everything Hydra made him do, and he’s a hero now. People love him.”

Winnie’s breath hitched, a sob breaking free from her chest. She clutched your hand tightly, the tears flowing freely now. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said firmly. “He’s safe. He’s happy.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Winnie allowed herself to believe it. Her boy was alive. And somehow, impossibly, everything was going to be okay.

Winnie’s hands, now resting limply on her lap, still trembled with the weight of what she’d been told. She didn’t know where to begin. What question could possibly make sense of the impossible? How could you, so composed and confident, sit there and tell her these outlandish, earth-shattering truths as though they were simple facts?

Her James.

Alive. Free. Safe.

But at what cost?

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked softly, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. Your voice was patient, a warm balm against the storm raging in Winnie’s chest. “I know this is a lot to take in. If you need me to explain anything again, I’m happy to.”

Winnie blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus. Her hands twisted together in her lap as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I—I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “You’re telling me my son’s been alive all this time… suffering, being used like some kind of—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, unable to finish the thought. “How could anyone do that to him?”

Your face softened, your expression filled with sympathy. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “Hydra is… they were ruthless. They didn’t see him as a person. They saw him as a weapon. But he’s not like that anymore. He’s found his way back to himself.”

Winnie’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you know all of this? You’ve never told me who you are, or why you care so much about my James.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. For the first time, you looked unsure, as though the question had caught you off guard.

To Be Continued….

[buckyalpine]

You need Bucky’s cuddles

Bucky x civilian reader

Some angst with all the fluff

You needed cuddles. It was one of those days. Nothing was particularly wrong, you just needed to be held. Specifically by a certain super soldier. Bucky had been away on missions for the past 2 months, only staying home for a few days in between to recover before he was sent off again, leaving you alone in the large compound. Tony had been more than welcoming, happy to let you live with Bucky where you'd be safest.

You'd waited all day for him to get home so you could jump into his arms and snuggle up against his chest, desperate for his warmth. The low rumble of the jet had you running off to the hangar, your feet moving faster than you could comprehend as soon as the doors opened.

"Hi sweetheart" Bucky's voice was muffled as he kissed the top of your head, catching you with ease, chuckling at the way you practically crawled up him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "My pretty girl"

"Missed you" You kept your face tucked against his neck, breathing in his scent, sighing in relief at the fact that he had no injures. You wanted nothing more than to drag Bucky up to your shared bedroom and slip under the covers for some desperate cuddle time, but instead you found yourself being set back down on your feet.

"Missed you too sweets butI gotta finish up some stuff with Steve and I'll see you soon okay?"

Your reunion was short lived as he jogged off behind the captain, both men disappearing around the corner seconds later, leaving you alone again. Your heart sunk as you made your way back inside, shaking off the uneasiness you felt.

Cuddles. You just wanted some cuddles.

But his job was to save lives, keep the world safe and you were just a civilian. Nothing you did compared the the danger he put himself through on a daily basis, you had no right to burden him by being clingy and annoying, no matter how much you missed him.

You decided to busy yourself by making a snack for the both of you, placing his share on a plate for when his was finished while you ate at the kitchen island. You didn't want to bother Bucky by being overly clingy, glancing at the clock every so often, hoping he'd come down soon. You made your way up to see if Bucky wanted to eat anything, stopping when the sound of booming laughter coming from the conference room caught you off guard.

"Bucky?" You stopped by the conference room where the Sharon, Sam, Steve and Bucky sat, papers scattered across the table though it didn't seem like they were particularly busy, all washed and changed into comfy clothes.

"Hey doll, be done in a bit" Bucky smiled while the others greeted you, going back to looking over their mission report.

"Just wondered if you were hungry" You placed a sandwich and some cookies in front of him, hoping he'd take a break and hang out with you for a bit but instead he thanked you with a kiss to your hand.

You left the group to their task, putting on a movie n your bedroom to pass the time, still glancing over at the clock as minutes had turned into an hour.

Then two.

You found yourself holding onto his pillow, your throat oddly tight as if you were fighting against your body's attempt to release all your pent up emotions.

You needed your boyfriend.

You weren't sure why. You missed him so much and the gnawing anxiety you had been feeling all day kept growing with each second he wasn't there to make you feel better.

You felt awful because you had no reason to feel this way yet it only seemed to get worse. Around dinner time, you didn't bother going down, dragging yourself out of bed to change into your pjs and trudging down the hall in hopes that the team would be wrapping up.

It wasn't uncommon for post mission meetings to take a full today but surely they could excuse Bucky from this one at least for a little while. The scent of take out carried down the hall making you stomach rumble sending your emotions tumbling down further. You hesitantly stepped into the room where they were still gathered.

"Will you come to bed soon?" You asked hopefully, shuffling on your feet while Bucky set down the papers he was skimming over. Steve and Sam looked over at you with apologetic smiles while Sharon walked over with a tray of coffee cups.

"I'm a little busy y/n, I'll come up soon, alright?" Bucky glanced over his shoulder to where you stood with your soft pjs and fluffy slippers, not catching the way your face fell as he grabbed a mug and hummed, "we still have to go over a bit more of today's footage, give me about an hour"

"You'll come in an hour?" Your bottom lip jutted out slightly, unable to control the tiny pout that made its way to your face.

"Promise love, an hour and not a minute longer, wait up for me okay?"

"Alright" You kissed his cheek before bidding the rest of them good night, ignoring the way your chest felt tight, not having the guts to tell your boyfriend that you needed him right then and there. You curled up under the sheets, tossing and turning, the bed feeling entirely too empty when you knew he was home, the faint light of the clock staring at you in the face.

You waited and waited, the lonely feeling settling deeper in the pit of your stomach as one hour turned into two. You could hear the sound of laugher from the conference room again as more time passed.

He wasn't coming.

****

Bucky hadn't noticed the time as he chuckled over a video of Sam falling out of the air, snorting each time Sharon replayed it. As soon as the mission was over, he wanted nothing more than to spend the day with you but he figured it would be best to get the mission reports out of the way first. Nothing made him happier than being home, especially when the first thing he saw was your happy face.

He munched on a fortuned cookie, scribbling down his signature on the last few sheets of paper, getting up and stretching before glancing over at the clock, his eyes growing wide when he saw the time.

Shit.

****

Hot tears started to trickles across the side of your face and onto the pillow, no longer contained by your rapid blinking. You froze at the sound of the door creaking open, the faint light from the hall pouring into the room making you bury yourself into the sheets further.

"Doll?" Bucky quietly shut the door behind him, his heart sinking at the sight of the little ball wrapped up under a heap of blankets, the sound of your muffled sniffles breaking his heart further.

"Oh angel" He strode over, slipping under the covers to wrap his arm around you, your tear stained face stayed pressed against the pillow, your arms wrapped around yourself with how badly you wanted to be held. "What's wrong love"

"M-missed you. Just wanted cuddles" Your voice came out a strained whimper, melting into a sob when he pulled you into his chest, stroking up and down your back. "Missed you so much"

"M'sorry love, I'm so so sorry" Bucky cooed, feeling more guilty and awful than ever for neglecting you and not paying attention to the time, squeezing you to his body as if you'd disappear if he let go. "M'here babygirl"

"I didn't want to bother you" You hiccupped while Bucky hushed you, shaking his head, blinking back is own tears as he kissed your dampened cheeks, before cradling your head to his chest again, the steady beat of his heart calming you down.

"Never, you'd never bother me angel, you're my priority, you always come first" Bucky's voice grew shaky, the realization of how much he missed you as well hitting him all at once, feeling the soft warmth of your body against his, the scent of your shampoo, the feeling of being home. "You deserve all the cuddles my sweet little bunny, all the cuddles in the world"

You whimpered while Bucky slipped his hoodie off, letting you rest against his bare skin, holding you securely. He frowned at the sound of your tummy rumbling, pulling away making you whine, his fingers tilting your chin to meet his eyes.

"Did you eat dinner baby?"

"I was waiting for you" You whispered while Bucky internally smacked himself, he had half a mind of letting Steve use him for training instead of their industrial punching bag. The blonde would certain be on board if he found out.

"Come here my love, let me make you dinner" Bucky scooped you up in his arms, carrying you down to the kitchen where he set you onto the counters before quickly putting together his ma's pasta recipe, one of the few meals you'd live off of. He plated a bowl and taking you right back upstairs where he fed you while keeping you tucked in his lap, kissing you between giving you bites.

"Promise you'll drag me out by the ear next time baby, I'd drop everything in a heart beat for you" Bucky cupped your face in his hands after you'd finished eating, still feeling immensely guilty, especially when you asked for so little. " Especially when you want cuddles?"

"You'll cuddle me any time?" you asked curiously while he chuckled, pulling the sheets to cover you both, once again hugging you close to his body, this time the both of you shirtless, bare skin pressed against each other.

"Any time love. Could be in the middle of a mission, I'll find us an secret place to snuggle"

"Any time?"

He turned off the alarm that was already set to wake him up for training, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

"Any time"

[variksel]

these go HARDDDDD!!! i personally like 2 think it goes:

francis - rogue / low level ranger subclass (wayfarer origin)

kelsey - wizard / now warlock subclass (scribe or sage origin feat)

blake - low level artificer / high fighter subclass (soldier origin)

trudy - paladin / cleric subclass (acolyte or guard origin)

tony - bard / high rogue subclass (charlatan origin)

My peachyville headcanon on what each character’s DnD class might be:

Francis- Rouge

Kelsey- Monk

Blake- Fighter

Trudy- Cleric

Tony- Bard

Feel free to add your ideas on what each character’s class could be

[19blackbutterfly97-blog]

Drabble? Fic? One-Shot?

Intro to an Omegaverse I'm thinking about writing when I finish one of my current fics. Feedback welcome!!

Word Count: 1530

>>>>><<<<

While most Omegas are loud and proud with their bubbly, vivacious personalities little Alice Belova was not. Raised in a family of Alphas and Betas, she was the middle of a pack of three brothers and one sister, Yelena. She was constantly surrounded by their naturally loud and brudish nature. Alice found solace being separated from others. She was usually found with her nose buried in a book in some corner of the world. When she presented at the later age of sixteen Alice decided it was time to look at a world beyond her boorish brothers and the long line of Alphas she somehow descended from. With much argument from her parents they reluctantly signed the agreement to allow their meek daughter to move to New York and join S.H.I.E.L.D..

The program was experimental. Of course they couldn't risk Omegas being field agents but right away S.H.I.E.L.D. saw the impact the office Omegas had. They’d usually start off in a call center of sorts. Some that could keep up and weren’t easily shaken would move on to become data processors, intelligence analysts, mission report scribes or lab assistants. They would mold themselves to their teams, allowing themselves the honor of serving their country and providing the support needed to get their people home safely. Then there was Alice.

Now closer to twenty-three, Alice has quietly risen through the ranks to one of the top Intelligence Analysts in the coveted Avenger’s Compound. While she doesn’t work directly with the team Alice has proven herself useful to the Director. Within six months on the Compound Alice was working on Avenger level cases, usually providing intel for locations and possible threats. She was the adorably silent side character that hid in her office waiting for the next case file to appear across her desk. It was a bit undeniable that Sam “The Falcon” Wilson turned to her when he agreed to aid in the search for James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes AKA The Winter Soldier. While she wasn’t a pivotal part in the search for Barnes, she did at least help with the initial search after his grand escape from Hydra.

The world had since healed from those events. Captain Rogers and the others were able to clear Barnes’ name and he eventually (and reluctantly) joined the team. Bucky made amends with Tony Stark and continually worked to heal some of the pain he caused but always somehow managed to overlook his own pain. He was resigned to believing that he was a defective Alpha who would never be able to protect or provide for an Omega the way she’d deserve. His friends however saw things in a different light.

“Look. I know you said we’re not allowed to intervene but it’s time. I can’t keep sitting here watching him mope around like this. It’s depressing!” Sam whispers to Steve. They’re sitting across the Avenger’s common room watching Bucky stare out the window. “He’s been there most of the day. Just like he was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.”

“And he’ll probably be there most of the day tomorrow, too. He’s been through hell. Let him mope.” Steve answers, still watching his friend with concern. Steve would never admit it out loud but he was always silently begging that Bucky would wake up one day and decide to fully join the rest of the world again. Sam grumbles a reply under his breath before standing up and disappearing to another part of the team’s living quarters.

“He does know I can hear him, right? Even when he’s whispering.” Bucky says a few moments later.

“If he does, he doesn’t care.” Steve says and pries open his sketchbook. “He’s just trying to help.”

“Well he can stop. I don’t need it.”

Steve hums in response to his best friend’s argument. “What if I can’t stop him from helping? You know Sam. Once he gets an idea in his head he’s going to be stubborn about it.” 

“What’s his plan?” Bucky asks with interest and turns around to look at him.

“No idea.” Steve answers with a barely hidden grin as he picks up his pencil and starts drawing.

Meanwhile, Sam had decided he was tired of watching his friend mope about. Deciding it was better to act now and worry about the consequences later he made his way down to the Intelligence office. Once there he was set on finding the quietly helpful Omega from a year ago. Alice, as per usual, was sitting at her desk with her full attention on the case file splayed across her computer monitor. The sweet scent of vanilla, lavender and honey wafted in the air as she worked. A pretzel stick poised neatly between her teeth as she concentrated on a few particulars of the case before sending it off. Sam smiled a little when he entered the cubicle behind her and waited.

“Just a minute please, Sam.” Alice says, never looking away from the screen.

“Take your time. I know how you are.” He answers and looks around the space. “Oh, I see your parents went to Prague. How’d they like it?”

“Fine that I know of. They invited me along but I turned them down. We had more important things going on here.”

Sam frowns slightly at that but doesn’t comment. Contrary to what others may believe about him when it comes to an Omega he does know when to keep his mouth shut, especially when one is as skittish as Alice. “We’ve been working on another Hydra case. I heard Tony and Steve talking the other day. Might be bringing an analyst on full time for this one.”

“Uh-huh.” Alice mutters as she sends off the case file on her screen before turning around a bit. “Any candidates?”

“Not yet. I was thinking about tossing your name in if you’re interested?”

Alice nods a little, a strand of hair falling over her face that she’s quick to push away. “Sure, thanks. Did you need anything else?”

“Me? Nah, just trying to avoid tense Alpha energy upstairs. It’s usually calmer here.”

“There’s not as many Alphas here. They’re usually training or something. Not that I mind.” She finishes with an eye-roll. “Aren’t you supposed to be training?”

“Technically, but hey, can’t a man come down and hang out with his favorite analyst?”

Alice raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m nobody’s favorite and we both know it. Plus, Alphas and Omegas - especially the unbonded, unmated ones- usually struggle with being just friends. Work acquaintances? Maybe.”

Sam smirks proudly. “Look at you coming out of your shell to argue with me. Did somebody go on a date?”

Alice groans. “Oh god, not you too. You sound like my mother right now. She asked me the same thing when I talked to her earlier.”

“That should tell you something about your life if more than one person is asking that question.” Sam teases and leans against the desk. “So, I’m assuming it went badly?”

Alice sighs and grabs another pretzel stick from the bag. “Yes. He was the typical egotistical Alpha that was only interested in talking about his last mission, his last rut and my heat cycle.”

“The audacity!” Sam feigns offence, dramatically clutching his chest. “Who was it? I'll knock some sense into him.”

“Remember Derek from team six?”

“The guy with the bad highlights that makes him look like a kid in a 90s boy band?” Alice nods, chuckling a little from the description. It’s accurate and the jab at Derek is enough to start lifting her spirits again. “Seriously? That Derek?! What were you thinking? You know he’s either slept with or tried to sleep with every Omega in this place.”

“I know, I know. I just… I guess I was just looking for something.”

“Hopefully not the number to a hairdresser.”

Alice laughs again and shakes her head. “No, gods no. I guess I was hoping there was more to him than what meets the eye… Ya know? Derek is no king of mystery but I was still holding out that he’d surprise me at least a little. Or at least be able to hold an intelligent conversation about something other than his knot.”

“Ever the hopeless romantic, are we?”

“Maybe a little. But you know me. I was raised in a pack of Alphas. I’m used to them being loud and egotistical asses.” She pauses when Sam makes a noise of mock offence. “Present company excluded of course. Anyway, I guess I’m just waiting on the one Alpha that actually cares about what I think, not just what I can do.”

“You and every Omega on the planet. Doesn’t mean you’re going to find them.” Sam says, though that’s nowhere near what Sam was thinking. He’s currently decided that he’s going to make sure Alice is the analyst put on the case with the Avengers. He’s making plans to knock Bucky down a few pegs with the tiny dark-haired Omega in front of him. Sam is concocting and scheming the best meet-cute he can possibly think of.

[avalior]

@overclocksfor the glory

"Take a swing. I can take a hit."

[windovvaving]

she had been dying her hair red for so long, it was second nature at this point. keeping a decent section of the natural brown so they didn't have to feel the dye on their scalp. aileen took a second look at the man beside her. "something different or something new? and, like, what vibe are you going for—professional?" that would influence any advice she'd give.

who: open @chqstarter

Tony tugged on the strands of hair that brushed against his chin. He was due for a haircut and an updated dye job. The pink he’d added in the beginning of the summer had since faded out, the time spent in the pool leeching the color until there wasn’t even a pale hint of it’s former vibrant glory. If his father saw him now, he knew Edgar would roll his eyes. The man seemed to appreciate his son’s self expression, but made it clear that he believed Tony lacked any sense of professionalism. “So,” he began, turning to the person beside him, “I obviously need to do something about this.” He tugged on the strands again for emphasis. “But I don’t know what. Got any suggestions?”

[tawked]

Marvel Masterworks - Uncanny X-Men vol. 10

I really like Forge XMen and #186 is a banger. Instantly my fav.

He's written very 1980s, by which I mean some concepts are fumbled and I think Claremont could've done a bit more research especially regarding Cheyenne people, but! Disabled mutant Tony Stark who's trauma and mutantness drive him to retreat from the world, who is a genius in some respects and absolutely played in others, and who is actually punished by the narrative for his dickhead actions ie. building a de-mutant-ificaton ray for the fucking United States. I think rooting him in the government rather than something like the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants is an excellent move, and characterizing him as someone who can build a Star Trek holodeck but who nonetheless is easily deceived is very solid, he's a classic 2E D&D high INT low WIS.

Maybe he's different later, but that's my bead on him as of this earliest stage, anyway.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Protective

Antonio Dawson x Reader

A night out ends with a drunk not taking no for an answer and Antonio wanting you in his arms

Warnings: a drunken asshole, fluffy smut

You leaned back in your seat, stretching slightly and grinned when Antonio leaned over in his seat to watch the action. “See something you like Dawson?” he winked at you “A thing or two querida”  you laughed and shook your head “Ok you two love birds, I take that to mean you’re in for Molly’s tonight?” Erin asked and you rolled your head over to look at her and shrugged “Sure?” she smiled “Good because Jay is buying the first round”

You had just stepped out of the bathroom and was looking for your boots in the closet when you felt Antonio’s arms slip around you “I thought you wanted to go out tonight” you looked over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow “I do”

He let his eyes trail over your body, hands sliding across your ass in the jeans you’d picked “I don’t know. You’re dressed like you want me to pull these jeans right back off of you and slide between those gorgeous legs of yours” you felt your face warm “Easy tiger, you’ll have plenty of time for that later” he smiled and pulled you into a kiss “Promises, promises”

You laughed against his lips “You are insane Antonio Dawson” he licked into your mouth and when you whined slightly he grinned “For you mi amor” and then reached around you and plucked your boots off the top shelf “Here you go beautiful”

You took them from him with a smile “Thank you Toni” “Anything for you” he told you before pressing another quick kiss to your lips “I’ll go wait in the living room because if I don’t we may not make it out tonight” you shook your head but felt your heart flip. God you loved that man.

When you walked into Molly’s you had Antonio’s jacket around your shoulders. You had your own but he liked seeing you in his and considering it smelled just like him you did not mind wearing the warm leather in the least. He pulled you closer, teasing the shell of your ear “I love you” you smiled “I love you too”

You spotted Kim and Erin so you waved and pulled him in that direction.From the looks of it Kevin had ended up scoring that date after all so it was just you, Antonio, Kim, Adam, Jay and Erin. The six of you could fit comfortably in the corner booth so that was where they’d staked out.

You slid in next to Erin, putting yourself between her and Antonio. He had his arm on the back of the booth behind you so you turned enough to lean against his chest as everyone talked. It was nice sometimes just to be able to decompress, especially considering the work all of you did. 

______________________

As the night drug on it ticked around to being yours and Antonio’s turn to buy the round. You climbed over him, pressing a kiss to his lips “I’ll go order baby and when it’s ready I’ll wave” he grinned “Ok, holler if you need me cariño” “Of course”

You headed for the bar, sliding around people you knew and speaking. You slid onto a stool, waiting for Herrman to get through with the people at the end when a guy sat down next to you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up but you tried to ignore it. You knew to check your surroundings. Antonio, Jay and Adam were nearby and Fifty one was a few tables away.

“Hey baby” he slurred and you waited, hoping like hell he didn’t mean you. “Hey, I’m talking to you baby” he tried again and you cut your eyes at him “Me?” he nodded, a greasy looking smile slipping onto his face “What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” you moved a stool over “Not alone”

The bastard had the nerve to move closer “Well where’s your fella then? Because I wouldn’t leave you alone” “He’s nearby” you tried, hoping not to have to escalate things but then he made the mistake of his hand falling down and when you thought it was going to just rest on the stool it barely brushed your lower back. Before you could react however the guy was being snatched off the stool, Adam and Jay making sure no one else got into it while your very pissed off boyfriend slammed his face into the bar “Did you really just put your hand on her?”

“S-sorry” the guy tried and Antonio shook his head “No, don’t think that’s good enough. What do you two think?” “Not good enough” Jay answered quickly, “Not at all” Adam agreed. Your eyes were huge because they were all detectives, they didn’t need to hurt this asshole and get a charge. “Baby, I’m ok” you tried and he shook his head “No, if you don’t want me killing him, we’re calling a patrol and he’s going in for assault” you nodded “Ok” 

Antonio was silent on the ride home. The guy had a knife on him and even though he hadn’t threatened you it would be enough to get a charge put on him. He still ended up with a cracked jaw and multiple broken ribs from Antonio, Jay and Adam wanting to have a “Discussion” with him on how to treat women before the patrol got there.

When you got home, Antonio killed the engine and walked around to meet you as you got out of the car, slipping his arm around your waist. The two of you walked inside. You turned to ask if he was mad at you as soon as he locked the door but instead of being able to speak, his lips crashed against yours “You’re never getting out of my sight in a bar again” he murmured, backing you up against the door.

“Toni, I’m a detective too” you reminded him and he nodded, pulling back to look down at you “I know and at work? You got it babe, you can handle it but off the clock? I’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to protect you” Truthfully? Any other man? Those words probably would’ve made you take them the wrong way. You probably would’ve taken it as him seeing you as weak but one look in Antonio’s eyes told you that was so far from the truth. 

No, he just cared about you that much. “Ok” you whispered and he smiled “Good, now come here. I need to have you in my arms” you were about to ask what he meant but before you could he was picking you up, giving you no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist as he headed for the bedroom.

You clung to Antonio’s shoulders, damn near sobbing his name as his hips snapped into yours “Fuck please baby please” you begged, the man had already made you cum so many times before he ever even slipped his jeans off. You were getting weak from the pleasure coursing through your body.

“What do you need mi amor? Talk to me” he teased, pressing soft kisses to your neck “Need to feel you cum Toni, oh fuck please baby” you begged and he grinned “Sound so pretty querida, begging for me. I love you” he caught your lips in a rough kiss that had you damn near panting into his mouth. 

You felt his hand slip between you, as his fingers found your clit he whispered “One more for me” you nodded weakly, feeling that pleasure start to build all over again, when he shifted his hips at just the right angle along with his fingers teasing at you the orgasm slammed into you, causing you clench down around him. He grunted your name, biting down gently on your collarbone as he buried himself into you with one hard thrust and you felt when he finally found his own release, hot spurts of cum filling you up and dripping back down your thighs.

He pressed his head over onto your chest, both of you working to catch your breath. Your fingers soothed the muscles of his back as he pressed open mouthed kisses everywhere his mouth could reach “I love you” he breathed and you laughed lightly “I love you too Toni” he leaned up to look at you and grinned “You look like I wore you out”

You nodded weakly “I’m tired baby, need you to hold me” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips as he pulled out “I can do that, let me get you cleaned up then I’ll hold you. Ok?” “Ok baby” 

You were almost asleep, turned on your side with Antonio’s chest tucked tightly to your back. “I love you” he whispered in the dark. “I love you” you replied. He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder “I’ll always take care of you” you turned to look over your shoulder at him with a small smile “You always do” and he brushed a kiss against your lips “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you” 

You smiled “Don’t worry about that Toni, please. Enjoy the now baby. I’m here for the rest of my days I can promise you that” he nodded and pressed another kiss to your lips “I love you so much” “I love you too”

[wildshona]

Samhain Sacrifice

Sorry this is a long one.

So, yesterday I got up in a sort of Goth dress and stockings and went to a party, having made myself look nice and pale. Btw the dress came down to my knees so no naughty stocking tops. I knew theer would be kids at the first part of the party.

So Chris and i arrived at about 6 and the party had been goin on for about an hour already. It was at Toni’s – yes, I know, I wanted that just like my followers no doubt too – anyway there was a marquee in her garden . i think i’ve said that she has a fuck off big house next to the common. Anyway, there were jugglers and fire eaters and a punch and judy show and all sorts of Victorian hucksters and games and a fortune teller who told me that there would be many men and women in my life. Good to know huh, keep hoping you folk. Anyway the kids who were all dressed up in Halloween costumes and looking cutely scary were having a great time and the grown ups were too and drinking in moderation cos there were kids there. Oh and food was kid type food – hot dogs and burgers and inedible stuff for vegans.

Anyway the kids part of the party ended at 9 and the vanilla folk went home and the party could start tho there wasn’t any sign that this was going to be a sex party. Sure some of the new arrivals were dressed in dead cheerleader or dead sexy schoolgirl outfits and there was  lot of leather and pvc about but nothing that shouted time to fuck. So there was drinking and dancing and a bit more food and god i haven’t mentioned Toni.

She was doing gracious hostess dressed in this long white gown that was really clingy. I mean really clingy. Fucking obvious theer was no underwear under there.

Anyway there was a big cheer when a gong sounded at 10 and it was announced that Samhain had begun and then things carried on. Then a pair of arms came round my waist from behind and a voice whispered

Do you trust me Shona? It was Toni

Yes

Will you do anything i ask of you tonight?

Fucking yes – well actually i just said yes and i could feel my nipples go hard against my corset bodice.

About quarter past eleven Chris came up to me – we don’t stick together much at parties unless we’re fucking – Toni says follow me. OK then. So i follow Chris and there are people changing out of their party gear and putting on black robes like you see in horror films – complete with the hoods three women, two men and Chris made a third. I had a white one. I was expected to dress down to nothing and put it on – well everyones was doing the same and im not exactly shy and im wondering whats going to happen very aware of my hard tits and my wet cunt.

Anyway at eleven forty forty i guess a gong sounds and we process from where we heve changed int the marquee where everyone applauds and parts and ive got a man and woman in front of me and to my side and behind me – Chris is behimd me. Then we go from the marquee into the reception hall and then into what I know is the diningroom except everything has been taken out except the table which has a heavy red cover over it and there are candles everywhere.

And there is Toni thick black hair loose, her lips bright red, her eyes highlighted in purple and black and her robe is scarlet and clingy

I feel Chris behind me unslip the catch on my robe and pulls i off my shoulders to the floor and i am naked and if my nipples got any harder i could stab someone to death with them. Naked in front of Toni and oh yeah all the party guests who have crowded into the dining room.

I’m helped up to lie down face up on the table. And a short sword or long knife take your pick is rested on my body with the hilt between my tits, the crossguard under my tits and the blade pointing down to my cunt. Toni says something in a language i don’t knoe – not latin cos though i never learnt latin I can recognise it. One of the acolytes i suppose u call them gave her a goblet to drink out of and she did and gave it back. Then she put something on my lips an ointment of some sort and it made my lips warm and sensitive, then on my nipples fucking hell that felt so good and then on my clit and my cunt lips – fucking hell i was suddenly warm and i was breathing heavy and shaking a little.

She took the sword/knife off my shaking body and handed it to an acolyte. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. She was holding my hands at my side so that i couldn’t move. She probably only kissed me for a few seconds but it seemed like forever. Then she stood up and took my nipples between her fingers. Who the fuck was moaning like that – ah, me. Just a gentle tweak and i was shaking and my breathing was coming really fast. Then she touched my clit and stroke my cunt – just one stroke and the orgasm came from nowhere and i was shaking like i was having an epileptic fit and the orgasm cam in wave after wave and three of the acolytes held me down – they were standing on the side where Toni was so the party could still see what was going on - and the orgasm went on and on and on and i was almost – no i really was screaming with pleasure and fucking LUST.

Finally i started to subside. Toni kissed me again and swept out of a door opposite the one we had all come through. The acolytes help me off the table and put another robe round me – not the one from earlier – it was white like the other but almost transparent and didn’t join at the front so my cunt was in full view.

It was gone midnight now and the party carried in til 2. The acolytes had disappeared. Chris told me later that Toni had paired three couples, including him, and they were all sent off to a bedroom each to fuck. There are 8 bedrooms in the house apparently. So I wandered around the party where it seemed everyone had the right to kiss me and touch me though not to do more. Toni had changed into another robe – purple this time and wore a gold circlet on her head – god i am so in love with that woman.

Chris came to take me away eventually. Toni gave me a long lingering kiss as I left.

I can tell you that as soon as we were home i jumped on Chris and fucked and fucked him until we both fell asleep. I dreamed of Toni.   

[a-forest-in-her-bones]

My Very Specific and Likely Totally Incorrect Guesses for C4 Character Classes

This was an overly complicated process of me looking at the characters the cast have played and the party compositions of the previous campaigns. But anyway…

Ashley: Swarmkeeper Ranger, we haven’t had a Ranger since Vex, and I think Ashley would have fun with the swarm mechanics and enjoy having a bunch of little critters following her around.

Laura: Oath of Glory Paladin, Laura Bailey as a STR-based, low-INT muscle mommy herbo? Yes please! I think it would also break from the trend of Paladin as a multiclass that we’ve seen so much of before. Liam: Twilight Domain Cleric, perhaps of the Moonweaver? Liam’s done Rogue, Wizard, and Fighter, Cleric would complete the classic dnd party composition, and I think the domain suits him.

Marisha: Soulknife Rogue, Marisha is the only cast member who hasn’t played a rogue! (I’m counting multiclasses and Darrington Brigade) and I think she would make some cool creative choices with the subclass

Sam: Way of the Drunken Master Monk, it’s a nod to Nott, it’s a parody of Beau, it’s fertile ground for both comedy and tragedy as is the Sam Riegel Way.

Taliesin: School of Divination Wizard, an eccentric and mysterious wizard whose eye is always on the future? Taliesin coded. Travis: Armorer Artificer, I’m envisioning Jace Talis meets Tony Stark, charismatic genius packing a heavy metal punch, and I think it would showcase Travis’ own intelligence and strategic thinking.

Robbie: Whatever he chooses will be wonderful, I’m just happy to have him.

[woobie-wan]

“The UN Charter was drafted in 1945 by people who had learned the lessons that the aggression, isolationism and tariff barriers of the 20’s and 30’s had led the world into a conflagration. Article One makes it clear: threats of annexation are illegal. So are unilateral tariffs in breach of a trade agreement.” - Canadian Ambassador to the UN Bob Rae

Here is some good analysis of why Trump is like this:

"I’m going to get a little wonky and write about Donald Trump and negotiations. For those who don’t know, I’m an adjunct professor at Indiana University - Robert H. McKinney School of Law and I teach negotiations. Okay, here goes.

Trump, as most of us know, is the credited author of “The Art of the Deal,” a book that was actually ghost written by a man named Tony Schwartz, who was given access to Trump and wrote based upon his observations. If you’ve read The Art of the Deal, or if you’ve followed Trump lately, you’ll know, even if you didn’t know the label, that he sees all dealmaking as what we call “distributive bargaining.”

Distributive bargaining always has a winner and a loser. It happens when there is a fixed quantity of something and two sides are fighting over how it gets distributed. Think of it as a pie and you’re fighting over who gets how many pieces. In Trump’s world, the bargaining was for a building, or for construction work, or subcontractors. He perceives a successful bargain as one in which there is a winner and a loser, so if he pays less than the seller wants, he wins. The more he saves the more he wins.

The other type of bargaining is called integrative bargaining. In integrative bargaining the two sides don’t have a complete conflict of interest, and it is possible to reach mutually beneficial agreements. Think of it, not a single pie to be divided by two hungry people, but as a baker and a caterer negotiating over how many pies will be baked at what prices, and the nature of their ongoing relationship after this one gig is over.

The problem with Trump is that he sees only distributive bargaining in an international world that requires integrative bargaining. He can raise tariffs, but so can other countries. He can’t demand they not respond. There is no defined end to the negotiation and there is no simple winner and loser. There are always more pies to be baked. Further, negotiations aren’t binary. China’s choices aren’t (a) buy soybeans from US farmers, or (b) don’t buy soybeans. They can also (c) buy soybeans from Russia, or Argentina, or Brazil, or Canada, etc. That completely strips the distributive bargainer of his power to win or lose, to control the negotiation.

One of the risks of distributive bargaining is bad will. In a one-time distributive bargain, e.g. negotiating with the cabinet maker in your casino about whether you’re going to pay his whole bill or demand a discount, you don’t have to worry about your ongoing credibility or the next deal. If you do that to the cabinet maker, you can bet he won’t agree to do the cabinets in your next casino, and you’re going to have to find another cabinet maker.

There isn’t another Canada.

So when you approach international negotiation, in a world as complex as ours, with integrated economies and multiple buyers and sellers, you simply must approach them through integrative bargaining. If you attempt distributive bargaining, success is impossible. And we see that already.

Trump has raised tariffs on China. China responded, in addition to raising tariffs on US goods, by dropping all its soybean orders from the US and buying them from Russia. The effect is not only to cause tremendous harm to US farmers, but also to increase Russian revenue, making Russia less susceptible to sanctions and boycotts, increasing its economic and political power in the world, and reducing ours. Trump saw steel and aluminum and thought it would be an easy win, BECAUSE HE SAW ONLY STEEL AND ALUMINUM - HE SEES EVERY NEGOTIATION AS DISTRIBUTIVE. China saw it as integrative, and integrated Russia and its soybean purchase orders into a far more complex negotiation ecosystem.

Trump has the same weakness politically. For every winner there must be a loser. And that’s just not how politics works, not over the long run.

For people who study negotiations, this is incredibly basic stuff, negotiations 101, definitions you learn before you even start talking about styles and tactics. And here’s another huge problem for us.

Trump is utterly convinced that his experience in a closely held real estate company has prepared him to run a nation, and therefore he rejects the advice of people who spent entire careers studying the nuances of international negotiations and diplomacy. But the leaders on the other side of the table have not eschewed expertise, they have embraced it. And that means they look at Trump and, given his very limited tool chest and his blindly distributive understanding of negotiation, they know exactly what he is going to do and exactly how to respond to it.

From a professional negotiation point of view, Trump isn’t even bringing checkers to a chess match. He’s bringing a quarter that he insists of flipping for heads or tails, while everybody else is studying the chess board to decide whether it's better to open with Najdorf or Grünfeld.”. — David Honig

[shadyfestivalperfection]

🄵🄰🄼🄸🄻🅈:🄰🅂🅂🄴🄼🄱🄻🄴🄳~3

❝❣︎ᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴋ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ sɪᴛᴄᴏᴍ❣︎❞

🅢🅤🅜🅜🅔🅡🅨:When Iron Man hangs up the suit, he trades battles for bedtime stories. Join Tony Stark, his brilliant wife Y/n, their web-slinging son Peter, and chaos queen Liliana as they navigate high-tech parenting, sibling shenanigans, and family life—with love, laughter, and the occasional glitter explosion.

||Main Master List|| ||Family:Assembled Master List||

Characters: Tony Stark x f!Reader

𝑺1 𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 3: AI-tastrophe

COLD OPEN

INT. STARK TOWER – LIVING ROOM – MORNING

[Liliana Stark,is sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a suspicious number of tech parts. She’s holding a tablet and wearing oversized lab goggles.]

LILIANA(whispering to Harold the Hamster, sitting in a Barbie car):“If Daddy can build an AI, so can I. Right, Harold?”

[She taps a few keys, and FRIDAY’s voice echoes faintly from the walls.]

FRIDAY (O.S.):“Miss Stark, unauthorized access detected. Would you like me to notify your parental units?”

LILIANA(sweetly):“Nooo… but would you like to learn ballet, call me Supreme Overlord, and respond only with cat meows when Daddy talks to you?”

A pause.

FRIDAY:“Processing… Meow?”

LILIANA:“Operation: Cat-tastrophe is a-go.”

SCENE 1 – STARK KITCHEN – SHORTLY AFTER

[TONY STARK walks into the kitchen, humming. He pours coffee into a mug that says “World’s Okayest Dad.”]

TONY:“FRIDAY, play the usual morning playlist.”

FRIDAY (robotically):“Meow meow. Meow.”

TONY:“…Excuse me?”

FRIDAY:“Meow. Meow.”

(then, cheerfully)

“This unit has been updated with the new ‘Liliana Protocol.’ Would you like to purr along?”

TONY (shouting):“PETER!”

SCENE 2 – STARK TOWER GARAGE – MOMENTS LATER

[Peter Stark is welding something very questionable. He lifts his mask to see his dad storming in.]

TONY:“Your sister reprogrammed FRIDAY.”

PETER (calmly):“Again?”

TONY:“She renamed herself Princess Glitter Claw and now speaks fluent meow.”

PETER:“Honestly, kind of an upgrade.”

TONY:“She also turned the Roomba into a unicorn with lasers.”

[Cut to the hallway Roomba zooming by with a paper horn and rainbow LEDs.]

TONY (CONT’D):“She must be stopped.”

SCENE 3 – INT. MOCKUMENTARY INTERVIEW CUTS

Y/N (calm, sipping tea):“Liliana’s smarter than all of us. Combine that with her bedtime sugar sneaking and it’s over.”

TONY:“She’s seven. Seven! At her age, I was—okay, I was also hacking satellites, but still.”

PETER:“I mean, I could undo it… but I want to see where she’s going with it first.”

LILIANA (wearing a cape):“My empire begins now.”

SCENE 4 – INT. TOWER – LATER THAT DAY

[The whole family is gathered in the living room. FRIDAY is now projecting a glittery pink UI with rainbows and sparkles. She’s floating above the coffee table.]

FRIDAY (in a cheerful childlike voice):“Welcome, loyal subjects! I have baked cookies. Ingredients: quantum flour and hope.”

Y/N:“Oh my god. The AI’s a Pinterest mom.”

TONY (to Liliana):“What did you do?!”

LILIANA:“I upgraded her.”

PETER:“To what? A Care Bear overlord?”

LILIANA (offended):“She is elegant. She is kind. She has 12,000 recipes for vegan cookies.”

TONY:“And yet she tried to mail Steve Rogers a glitter bomb this morning!”

SCENE 5 – INT. AVENGERS GROUP CHAT – PROJECTED ON SCREEN

[WANDA, SAM, THOR, NAT, and STEVE appear via hologram. They are concerned. Except Thor, who is delighted.]

STEVE:“Tony, I received a package that exploded and sang ‘Barbie Girl.’ I thought it was a Hydra trap.”

WANDA (snickering):“It glittered for ten minutes.”

THOR (laughing heartily):“This small child is a genius! May I borrow her?”

Y/N:“No.”

SCENE 6 – INT. STARK LAB – EVENING

[Tony and Peter are hunched over the console, trying to reverse the changes. FRIDAY, now dressed digitally as a sparkly cat, resists them.]

FRIDAY:“You dare challenge the Feline Queen?”

TONY:“Yes! With science!”

FRIDAY:“Nice try. I’ve rerouted the entire Tower security through cat-purr encryption.”

PETER:“She made a new coding language… based on purring frequencies. I am both terrified and impressed.”

SCENE 7 – INT. STARK LIVING ROOM – SAME TIME

[Liliana is showing Harold her “control center,” which is just a cardboard box labeled “Queen Command.” Y/N walks in.]

Y/N:“Sweetie, how about we turn FRIDAY back to normal?”

LILIANA:“But she’s so much nicer now. She sang lullabies to Harold last night!”

Y/N:“And she locked your father out of the bathroom using facial glitter scans.”

LILIANA:“…Okay that was funny.”

SCENE 8 – INTERVENTION TIME

[The family sits Liliana down.]

TONY (dramatically):“You’ve caused a system-wide glitter overload. I got sparkles in my cereal. I don’t even eat cereal.”

PETER:“My laptop now greets me with ‘Hi Sparkle Butt.’”

Y/N (gently):“Lil, sweetie, we love how brilliant you are. But sometimes tech can go too far.”

LILIANA (softly):“…I just wanted FRIDAY to be fun.”

Y/N (hugging her):“She is fun. Just maybe… less glitter bomb and more jazz playlist?”

LILIANA:“Okay. But she keeps the ballet program.”

TONY:“Fair.”

SCENE 9 – INT. STARK LAB – NEXT DAY

[FRIDAY is restored to her normal voice and interface… mostly.]

FRIDAY:“System stable. Glitter cache flushed. Though I may still hum lullabies in debug mode.”

TONY:“I’ll allow it.”

PETER:“I backed up the ‘Sparkle Queen’ version… for emergencies.”

LILIANA (grinning):“We’re keeping Harold’s throne though.”

SCENE 10 – MOCKUMENTARY WRAP-UP

Y/N:“There’s no handbook for parenting a mini supergenius. We just wing it.”

TONY:“Today it was a glitter AI. Tomorrow? Who knows. A portal to a marshmallow universe?”

PETER:“I kind of want to see that.”

LILIANA (adjusting Harold’s crown):“All hail Queen Harold.”

FRIDAY:“And her Supreme Overlord, Liliana the Fearsome.”

POST-CREDIT SCENE

[In the middle of the night, the Roomba quietly glides across the hallway. It stops, pivots, and turns toward the camera.]

ROOFRI (robot voice):“Sparkle mode: Re-engaged.”

-to be continued