#MCU Inspired

[klutzymaiden123]

I just wrote such a great confession scene, I’m so mad at how far away it is.

[happyunbday2u]

Hope: You speak all of our money on THIS!?!

Scott putting tiny raincoats on ants: They live outside they need this!

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Chapter Title: Back to November Chapter Summary: Blaine has no idea what’s going on and everyone keeps telling him it would be better if his memories returned organically. What happens if he never remembers? What happens if he does remember, but not what people want to hear? Chapter Note: I'm not making any more notes about chapters. This is taking a big turn. Think of the previous 6 chapters as set-up. And since this is like a separate fic, I eliminated my "only MCU canon before Endgame" rule. I will not tag which show/movie but still...spoilers. Warnings: Deaths (not by Snap) of canon Glee characters are hinted at but not confirmed 

REPOST 2/20/24: I accidently posted the rough draft 🤬

Hello, Blaine. My name is Sebastian. It’s nice to meet you.

He stared at the beautiful man…Sebastian. Something about him felt so familiar. It made him feel safe. “The little girl called me Daddy.”

“Yeah, I wish that didn’t happen.”

“Why?”

Sebastian chuckled and leaned into the door frame. He seemed to drop his guard (slightly) so he did the same. “I’m going to go make sure the kids’ lessons are ready.”

“I thought you said they were going to Kindergarten?”

“That’s what we call it…no, sorry. We were told, at least in the beginning, to let you try to regain your memories slowly, naturally.”

“Regain my memories?” Yes, he'd realized he had almost no memories from before he awoke, but how did Sebastian and whoever gave him that bullshit advice know he didn't?

“Tea or coffee?”

“Tea or coffee?” Was this a test? What if he said the wrong thing? Would it mean he’d have to wait even longer for someone to tell him what the fuck was going on? “Uh…I feel like I should say coffee, but I’d really like a cup of tea, Earl Grey with a little sugar and, this might sound strange, a splash of cinnamon.”

Something he said brought the beautiful smile back to Sebastian’s beautiful face. He must have answered correctly. “It doesn’t sound strange. One Earl Grey with a little sugar and a splash of cinnamon coming right up.”

Once he was alone, he got out of bed to survey his surroundings. The first thing he saw was a pair of glasses on the nightstand. He put them on and yes, these were definitely his.

The room was nice but plain. It felt more like an unoccupied dorm room than a bedroom in a home. White walls, hardwood floors and beige area rugs. No wall art, tchotchkes, or framed photos. The bedding didn’t have patterns, just grey sheets and a dark blue comforter with red trim. There was a full-length mirror in the corner, so he went to take a look. He was older than he anticipated. His hair was ridiculously curly and he was in need of a shave. The dark blue pajama pants he was wearing were unremarkable, but his t-shirt had Dalton printed across the front.

The shirt was the only thing that brought out any sort of recognition. Whatever Dalton turned out to be was irrelevant. To him, Dalton meant home.

Next to tackle was the dresser, but when he opened the top drawer, everything else came to a stop. There was only one item there. The only item since he woke up this morning that he recognized without an ounce of doubt.

The lightsaber Tony Stark made for him.

He climbed back into bed but sat up against the headboard, clutching his find. It was an anchor within the chaos of his situation. This Tony Stark guy was obviously important to him. So, why could he remember the lightsaber but not the man who made it for him?

He closed his eyes and tried to settle his mind.

“I’ve told you a thousand times, you can’t overthink everything.”

The voice embraced him with love, bringing out his first genuine smile of the day. “But I can sure try.”

Two gasps, one his own, had him opening his eyes. The sight of the person in the doorway confused him even more than why he gasped at what was said. “I know you…but I don’t know how.”

The woman plastered on a smile and set up the breakfast tray she’d been carrying. “It’s ok, Sweetie. Sebastian told me you wanted tea. I thought you might want some toast as well. There’s some…”

“Honey butter.” The woman's smile changed to resemble Sebastian’s when he answered the tea question.

Another test passed?

She sat beside him and gently brushed back his hair. It was if she’d been doing it for years. “Are you my mother?”

“Not biologically but over the past 6 years you and I have adopted each other as family. About 4 years ago you started calling me Mom. Maybe that’s what you’re remembering.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think I can do that, call you Mom, right now.”

The woman smiled again, easing their tension even further. “I understand, Sweetie. My name is Carole.”

(A younger) Carole stood next to a man in a baseball cap. The man reached out for a handshake. “Call me Burt, Kid. Kurt talks about you so much…”

“Dad! You said you wouldn’t embarrass me!”

Kurt? His first impression was one of fondness but then he was hit with feelings of animosity. No, animosity wasn’t enough. He might not remember this Kurt guy, but he really, really hated him. The memory troubled him so much he backed away to the other side of the bed, bringing his lightsaber, his only anchor to reality, with him. “How have we accepted each other as family when I hate your son?”

Carole chalked his statement up to his memories coming back in bits and pieces. At least they seemed to be coming back. That was progress. “You remembered Finn?”

“Kurt”

“Oh, that makes a lot more sense. Kurt isn’t my son. He was my stepson.”

He scooted back to his original spot, willing to once again try trusting the woman with the kind smile. “Was?”

“I was married to Kurt’s father until he died 6 years ago in a plane crash. Kurt disappeared at the same time, and we all thought he'd died as well. About a year and a half ago Kurt showed up out of nowhere. When he found out how my life moved forward, he said he would never forgive me. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Was it because of me? Does he hate me, because I really, really hate him…although I don’t know why.”

“My relationship with you wasn’t the problem. He hated, probably still hates, the man I married and his son.”

“His son?”

“That would be me” Sebastian said from the end of the bed. Next to him was a distinguished-looking gentleman. Both men's eyes were darting back and forth between Carole and the lightsaber. She subtly shook her head as a signal to let it go for the time being.

He pretended he didn’t notice.

The distinguished-looking gentleman ended the awkwardness with his introduction. “And I’m the new husband, Sebastian’s dad, Xavier Smythe.”

Did he say… “Smythe? Your name is Xavier Smythe?”

“Yes. Do you remember me?”

His focus moved from father to son. What he found had him trying to catch his breath. The man from earlier was gone. The person at the end of the bed was a beautiful 16-year-old boy, dressed in a perfectly pressed school uniform.

And when she knows what She wants from her time And when she wakes up And makes up her mind

”Sebastian Smythe.” ”Are you a Freshman?”

Once a Warbler, always a Warbler. Right? He remembered November 8th, 2011 and November 8th, 2012…as well as every moment they shared in between. He remembered November 9th, 2012…waking up, realizing he’d been in love with Sebastian the entire time and minutes later Kurt telling him he was dead. He remembered every second of pain between that moment and November 8th, 2024…the day he traveled back in time. Everything hadn't returned, only his memories of Sebastian and the aftermath of the accident. It didn't matter. His beautiful boy, now beautiful man, was less than 10 feet in front of him.

“Bas”

Sebastian ran from the room. He was devastated but didn't want the others to know. "Guess I failed that test."

Xavier looked to Carole who told him Go, I’ve got this one. Once he was gone, Carole grabbed hold of his hand not grasping his lightsaber. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie. This must be so confusing. But when I came in and told you to stop overthinking…”

“I said But I can sure try. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Because that’s how my Blaine would always answer. That’s how Sebastian’s Blaine would always answer.”

Her Blaine? Sebastian’s Blaine?

He didn’t know what Carole was trying to say but he didn’t care. Something didn’t feel right. He pushed her away and went as far as he could while remaining in the same room “Get out.”

“Sweetie…”

“I’m not your Sweetie. I want to talk to Bas.”

Carole stood and sighed, a signal of surrender. All the goodwill she'd attempted to build was gone. “I’ll tell Seb, but don’t get your hopes up. There’s a change of clothes in the bathroom if you want a shower.” After she pointed out the proper door, she picked up the long-forgotten breakfast tray. “Please stay here for the time being.”

“You can’t keep me prisoner.”

“I…we’re not trying to. However, there are two small children in the house and all they know is something is going on with someone they love. They’re scared enough.”

With everything that happened between the time the children left his room, he’d forgotten them (couldn’t blame the memory loss for that one). “I’ll stay here…for now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

The shower helped. He didn’t want to say it made him feel like himself again because he didn’t know who the hell he was. More specifically, who these people expected him to be. Carole must have returned while he was in the shower because a new breakfast tray of tea and toast was neatly set up on the table next to the window. Although, this time she'd included some eggs and bacon. He appreciated the gesture. As he sat down to eat, he looked outside (why hadn’t he thought of that sooner?). He didn’t need a rush of memories to know he was at Dalton. But this Dalton wasn’t either of his Daltons.

There was more than one Dalton? Why would he believe that? The only Dalton he remembered was the one where he met Sebastian. He was too hungry to obsess about it now, so he turned his attention back to his breakfast. The food was so good, and he was so mentally fried, he didn’t hear someone enter the room.

”You don’t have face hair anymore. You always have face hair.”

”I shaved.”

“Oh, ok. I got this for you, Uncle Blaine.” Sammy, the little boy…not the dog he still had no answers about, was holding a quart of Stark Raving Mad ice cream. “It always makes you feel better.”

He cocked his eyebrow and tried not to smile. “Makes me feel better, huh? Is there a reason I need two spoons to eat it?” The little boy’s face fell, and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. “Come here.” Sammy ran into his open arms and quickly settled on his lap. “Thank you, I ate my breakfast but I’m still hungry.”

“Grammy Carole says you’re always hungry” Sammy told him between shoveling spoons full of ice cream into his face. “Uncle Seb said you don’t remember us because you bumped your head. Is he right? You promised you’d never lie to me, but I guess you don’t member that.”

WTF? Blaine shifted the boy in his lap. First, the kid was heavier than he looked. His leg was falling asleep. And second, why had Sebastian told Sammy about his memory loss when Carole basically begged him to stay away from the kid and his sister? “Your Uncle Seb told you I bumped my head and lost my memories?”

“No” the boy admitted “I heard him tell Grampy X. He also said you were the other Blaine now, not his B. I don't know what that means.” That bit of information took him from frustrated to completely horrified. How could Sebastian be so reckless to say this where one of the kids could overhear him? His Bas was an impulsive brat (hello, eye surgery) but the things he did stemmed from being a child (teenagers, no matter what they believe, are children). This Sebastian was a late 20-something year old parent. He should know better!

The ice cream was gone (he might've gotten in 3 bites) and Sammy was beginning to doze off. It gave him an idea. “You heard right, I don’t have my memory and my head still kind of hurts. I was going to take a nap. Do you want to join me?"

Sammy wrapped his arms around Blaine’s neck, making it easier to be carried. Once they were settled, the boy began to wiggle and brought something up from underneath the sheet. “Where did you get this cool lightsaber…or you don’t remember?”

How could he have forgotten his lightsaber? Was he losing new memories every time he remembered something from the past? It wasn’t the time for panic…yet. “I found it in a drawer. Someone named Tony made it for me. I don’t remember him, but I know he loved me and always made me feel safe.”

“Like you love me and said you would do anything to keep me safe...when you remembered me.”

“Hey” He lifted the little boy’s chin, so he had to look at him. “I don’t care if I never remember anything else. I will always remember to make sure you and Susie are safe.”

Any tension in Sammy’s body melted as he snuggled even closer. “Uncle Blaine, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For getting scared and thinking the bad space monster would take me away again because you forgot to keep me safe.”

“Take you away?”

“Pepper brought you to Dalton to recover in peace. No one’s looking for Iron Man in bum-fuck Ohio.”

It wasn’t the time for questions. Tony had been through hell. And even though it had been a month, his brain was still dealing with the reality of Infinity Stones and how an alien got ahold of them, snapped his fingers and turned half of all living beings in the universe to dust.

Oh no, no, no. Sammy had been Snapped by Thanos. Blaine rolled to his side and hugged him as tightly as possible. “Never be sorry for being scared. Let’s talk about that…” He didn’t have to finish. The little boy was already sound asleep, clutching the lightsaber. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

*Blaine continued to love and be loved by Sammy...the hyperactive puppy* Me? You gave me the lightsaber and the rest of the technology I needed to do it!”

Tony walked around the basement of the Dalton he built, inspecting the time portal Blaine, Brittany and Bruce (technically Brittany and Bruce) built out of the material he sent. “I trusted Banner. He should've called off the whole thing knowing those substitute PYM Particles were compromised! And Barton?! I thought you were the little brother he never wanted. He and his whole fake SHIELD family loved you!”

“They do…did, whatever. And Bruce told me…ok, he tried. I still don’t get all the timey-whimey shit.”

“Which you should've before you TIME TRAVELED with defective particles! I understand not going back to Hank Pym for help. The guy has a Stark hate-boner so big I’m amazed he fathered a child.”

“Like yours for Steve Rogers?”

“Hold on…fine, point for the Bow-tied Wonder. But seriously, Banner let you use the damaged particles without seeing what Britt or that Princess in Wakanda could come up with? What about Strange? He was keeper of the Time Stone for fuck sake!”

“Then why didn’t the Avengers include them in the Time Heist?”

“Dr. Weirdo, Princess Kitty-Kat and our lovable but ditzy genius were dust at the time.”

“Don’t say it like that. It took forever for Britt to realize constantly singing Dust in the Wind wasn’t appropriate, especially in front of others who were Blipped.”

“Yet another reason I love that girl. And before you say Wong, we also thought he was dust…Snapped. We were wrong but not our fault. He’d snuck back to the Mystical Monastery of the Mountains and gone off-grid. Oh, and …THANOS DESTROYED THE STONES. Since we didn’t have any extra laying in a drawer somewhere, I, the most brilliant man who ever lived, had to solve time travel.”

“Yeah, I’d forgotten most of that. Not because of the memory loss, I think, but because it made my head hurt to listen to you and Bruce, or Bruce and Britt, talk about it.”

“Again…you didn’t understand and yet decided it was a good idea to TIME TRAVEL! I should tell MIT to take back your degree.”

“You’re dead.”

“Heroically departed, yet here I am…Iron Man.”

“Seriously?”

“How about*overdramatic superhero voice* I am...Dream Master and Gate Keeper to all your memories, so don’t piss me off?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me. And hey! What about Wanda? She’s a witch with super-sized magic courtesy of the mind stone. Did any of you supposedly brilliant idiots think of seeing what she could do to help?”

“Uh…after you left…”

“Heroically departed.”

“After you left, Wanda tried to get Vision’s body from the government to give him a funeral.”

“I don’t know if I’m more offended by the fact the government had Vision’s body and I didn’t know, or Elphaba wanted to put billions of dollars worth of Vibranium…”

“No, Wanda wanted to say goodbye with a funeral for the man?...person?...cybernetic being she loved. When she couldn’t get him back, she went a little Coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs.”

“How little?”

“Mind fucked an entire town, a small town, in New Jersey into believing they were characters in old sitcoms. Manifested a new Vision and a couple of kids. After the government caught on and all hell broke loose, she freed everyone, essentially killing her imaginary family. Last anyone saw of her, she flew off, no airplane necessary, to parts unknown with something called The Book of the Damned.”

For the first time ever, Tony Stark was speechless.

*Lengthy amount of (Dream) Time later* “And you questioned why I wanted Britt kept away from all that shit!?!”

“I didn’t question, per se…”

“Liar…and why didn’t Legolas do anything about the Wicked Witch of New Jersey?”

“Wanda told Clint, and Laura, she was going back to Sokovia to help with rebuilding what the Avengers and Ultron…”

“No need to elaborate. I was there…no comments.”

“So...that’s why they didn’t question her going no contact. It’s not their fault the government was stupid and for some reason didn’t bringing in the man who convinced Wanda to turn her back on Ultron, gave his son her dead brother’s name and freed her from your house arrest.”

"I said no comments!”

“I didn’t say a word about how you were responsible for Ultron, but if the title Avengers Dictator fits…”

“My bad. And while I want answers, you dream-summoned me to help you understand what the hell is happening in your pudding brain. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop yelling about the fact you never should have TIME TRAVELED with faulty particles in the first place! I’m gone for one itty-bitty year…”

*Blaine rose from where he’d been sitting the entire time and Sammy (the dog) ran off* “Tony…” “Ok, ok, I’ll drop it for now but be prepared to be chastised in future dreams.”

“I would expect nothing less from you.”

*Seconds later (because…Dream Time). Tony is now surrounded by all the computers he’d sent to Dalton over the years* “I figured out how badly you all fucked this up without me.”

“Can we postpone the I Told You Sos as well as the yelling?“

“You take the fun out of everything.”*Blaine answered by giving him a middle finger* “See? Was that so difficult?”

*Blaine answered with double middle fingers* “What did you find?”

“The faulty particles sent you to 2011 instead of 2012. Like with Rogers and his trip to finally get laid…”

“Oh, he’d already been laid.”

“...by Peggy Carter. And I’m still angry with you for not sharing your Stucky theories while I was around to use them to my advantage…in a fun way, at least a fun for me way. I would never use information like that against someone, especially after what happened to your platonic apocalypse partner.”

“My what?”

“That Dave guy?”

“Who?”

“Ok, your memory has improved to Swiss Cheese, but one thing at a time. Like I was saying, you went back to 2011 instead of 2012 and physically became that Blaine Anderson. During the Time Heist, we just had to avoid the Battle of New York Avengers.”

“That’s what I expected, hoped, would happen to me. Did you figure out why I physically became 2011 me?”

“No clue.”

“So, you can’t fix it?”

“To send you back to your original timeline? Not a chance. You wanted to be here, so…ta-da!”

“Not helpful.”

“If you want helpful, I can tell you when you are. It’s November 8th, 2024.”

“The day I left?”

“Makes sense. From what I understand, the Centurian lived decades with no memories of his 70 year side trip. Those memories took over when his two timelines intersected. He did eventually wind up with both sets of memories. My highly educated guess is you’ll eventually do the same.”

“I don’t have eventually. Right now, I have a scared little boy to take care of.”

“Yeah, Sammy. Do you realize you haven’t mentioned Sebastian once since you sought my wisdom? When I was alive you wouldn’t shut up about the guy.”

“Fuck you”

“You didn’t get the big Rom-Com reunion you wanted?”

“Not even close.”

“Did you ever consider the fact that for Sebastian, his Blaine essentially died when you woke up this morning? And you? While you saved Sebastian, Bas died November 8th, 2012. Is that something you’re prepared to accept? And what about Sam?”

“Sammy…”

“Not Sammy…Sam.”

I, I will be king And you, you will be queen Though nothing will drive them away We can be Heroes, just for one day We can be us, just for one day

I, I can remember (I remember) Standing, by the wall (by the wall) And the guns shot above our heads (Over our heads) And we kissed, As though nothing could fall (Nothing could fall)

And the shame was on the other side Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever Then we could be Heroes, Just for one day

“Last night there was a major accident on the highway. A big-rig blew a tire causing the truck to flip over. It smashed into several cars before landing on two. Blaine, Sam was in one of those cars…and, and Sebastian was in the other. They didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.”

"Sammy, the little boy…obviously not the dog, is Sam’s son, isn’t he?"

"Yes"

"But Sam…if I saved him, where is he? Why isn’t he with his son?”

“I can’t tell you what happened. That’s Blaine 2.0 territory. However, when you wake up, you can have some more of Bow’s memories. I can do that much."

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. This is your dream.”

*Next thing Blaine knew he was hugging the man he considered his father. In this Dream State he could actually feel Tony’s arms around him* “I miss you so much.”

“Of course, you do. I’m awesome.” *Tony tightened his hold* “I love you, Blaine Anderson.”

“I love you too, Tony Stark.”

“Good, because I want you to do something for me.”

“Of course, you do. What?”

“Go back to your music.”

“But…”

“What was the first thing you thought of when you remembered Sam? *Blaine tries to move away but Tony won’t let him* “You remembered the two of you singing Heroes. It was good…really good. Not hard rock enough to be my theme song, but I would’ve put it on the list.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m Dream Master and Gate Keeper to all your memories, Dumb Ass. Now, about you going back to music…”

“Tony…”

“If I didn’t burden you with hiding Brittany…”

“She wasn’t a burden.”

“Then hiding all my extra toys in the basement at Dalton…”

“That was a burden, a little one. But only when you came to Ohio and (air quotes) played science with my home. It would take days to get Saturday back to working correctly after you left.”

“I always thought if I didn’t uproot your life, you would’ve eventually found your way back to music. You were too good not to.”

“Tony…”

“Bow, just this one time, don’t overthink this and promise me you’ll try.”

*Sigh* “For you? I promise to try.”

Blaine felt movement next to him. It was enough to end his dream but not enough for him to move out of the comfort cocoon he was wrapped in. That was until he heard…

Come on, Big Guy. Time to go.

“Says who?” Blaine asked a startled Sebastian.

“Sammy shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have talked to your father about me without making sure you were alone.” He didn’t regret what he said, but maybe he didn’t have to say it like that.

“He overheard Dad and I…?” Sebastian didn’t need a verbal response. He’d seen that expression thousands of times. “Do you know how much he heard?”

“Enough to come to the conclusion my forgetting him meant the bad space monster was going to take him away again.” He motioned for not-his-Bas to go around to the other side of the bed and join them. Sebastian took the hint and laid down next to the sleeping boy, brushing his hair aside much like Carole had done with him earlier.

It finally dawned on him how much the other man loved this boy and had just been trying to protect him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sebastian asked, surprised by the apology.

“That I failed your test. That I’m not who you wanted me to be.”

If Sebastian was surprised before, he was now in full-on shock. “How do you know?”

“You didn’t hide it very well. That, and while I was sleeping, I came to a couple of realizations, like how you lost your husband.” He held up his left hand to show him rubbing the underside of his ring finger with his thumb. “I can’t stop doing this. It’s a muscle memory I have no control over. Susie said something about having a Daddy and a Papa, but this…” he held up his hand again “this is a habit developed over a long period of time.”

“B’s ring belonged to my grandfather. It was always a little big but with everything going on the past few years, getting it resized wasn’t happening. When we finally found someone to do it, B said no, the ring’s perfect the way it is. And you didn’t fail. We knew this would happen. I just hoped…”

Huh? We knew? “How? How the fuck…” Sebastian glared at him until he realized “Oh sh…cra…darn? Guess I need to learn to watch my language.”

“We have a curse jar. You don’t put money in because money doesn’t have any real value right now. The jar has pieces of paper with monthly jobs no one wants to do on them. B usually takes out 10 at the beginning of the month so he can space things out.”

He chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake up Sammy. Obviously, he and the other Blaine would have similarities since they were technically the same person. He never considered his swearing habit would be one of them. “He, your B, has or had…”

“A potty mouth? Yes, but it did get better after Susie’s first word was fuck.”

That was all it took for him to lose it. Whatever came out was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, the problem was it was loud. Sammy smiled waking to see the men he called Uncle on either side of him, until seconds later when sheer panic overtook the boy.

On the other side of the room, sparks had appeared out of nowhere. Fortunately, he remembered what this meant, but how to explain it to a traumatized child was a different story. “Sebastian, how did everyone Tha…the bad space monster took away come back?” he asked, hoping it was at least close to the version he knew. “The Sammy version.”

“Um…Avengers broke the space monster’s curse and everyone just reappeared. No one knows how.”

“What did the Avengers do next?”

“Uh…a big battle with the space monster. They think they’re going to lose when a bunch of people joined them…”

“Awesome! Sammy, I know people who were there when the Avengers fought the space monster. Everyone who joined them? They got there through a magic portal just like that one. Only heroes can go through them.” He tousled the less-scared little boy’s hair before getting out of bed and putting himself between Sebastian and Sammy, and whoever (or whatever) stepped out of the portal.

Not that he was going to stop a magical being or anything, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Any doubt was quashed when their visitor arrived. “Wong? What are you doing here? Wait, how did you get here? The Sorcerer Supreme is a master of time. Yes, I time traveled here but Sebastian and Sammy didn’t. Oh my God! Are we in an alternate universe?” He’s so excited his voice kept getting higher and faster. “I think I finally understand some that timey-whimey shit…stuff Tony, Bruce and Brittany yapped on and on about.”

“Brittany? You said you didn’t know my Mommy.”

He turned so fast he almost knocked himself over. “Brittany is your mommy?” For some reason what Sammy said both made perfect sense and blew his mind. Sadly, this had to wait. “Wong?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not even close. I thought you were some sort of genius like Stark since he sent you to MIT and then kept all his Iron Man stuff in your basement.”

“You went to MIT?”

He motioned to Sebastian he’d answer the question later. Maybe he should get the others to leave. No, a little late for that. “Wong, just tell me.”

“When I first met you, your Temporal Aura was off, more like wrong, but I was a little busy. Do you know why?”

“Testing me?"

"Yes"

Considering the man could turn him into a frog, he determined it wasn't time for snark. Sammy didn't need to see that. "The first time I met you, you and Pepper brought Morgan to me before the battle at the Avengers Compound.”

“Ok, just checking, you never know with time travel. At Stark’s funeral I pointed your Aura out to Strange and he agreed with me. You were on the wrong timeline.”

“The what now?”

“The wrong timeline. People don’t stay on the wrong timeline. Those things get taken care of.”

“Taken care of?” Well, that didn’t sound good.

“Let’s just say there are more beings affecting time than those possessing an Infinity Time Stone. Lasting almost 30 years in the wrong timeline only to return to the correct one without assistance from any form of timekeeper doesn’t happen…until you. It’s fascinating.”

“Fantastic isn’t the word I would use.” This conversation was getting more confusing (and terrifying) by the minute. “So, what does all of this mean? And please no timey/whimey or magicity/smagickity explanations?”

“It means I need to have a discussion with Strange but I can’t find him. He’s off universe. It’s so frustrating.” Wong waved his arms and another portal began to open. “Maybe you can help. What’s the name of Stark’s other lost boy?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean Spider-Man?”

“I know that. What’s his real name? His identity?”

“I don’t know. He wanted it to remain secret, unlike his mentor.”

“Someone must know.”

“Pepper?”

“None of Team Iron Man. Maybe this has something to do with why I can’t find Strange. Do me a favor…no more time jumping until I get this figured out.”

“I won’t know how.” 

Once he was sure Wong was gone, he turned back around. Sammy was bouncing with excitement. Sebastian…have you ever heard the expression If looks could kill? Neither was a good thing. Like his other self, he should probably get a head start on the curse jar because…FUCK!!!!!

[implyouthern]

Bob realizes he and his roommate might be a little more similar than he had originally anticipated...

[outer-edges]

hilarious that oversized clothes and a shaggy haircut can make marvel fans forget that a man is literally a suicidal meth addict high school dropout with a history of attacking people while under the influence who donated his life to an extremely shady experiment in hopes of finding more/free drugs

[bangchansrose]

sam: are you being racist

bucky: are you being ableist

sam: you're just homophobic

bucky: *turns to the marriage certificate hanging on their refrigerator next to the grocery list*

[chujellys]

self indulgent 🩸

[shxrkk]

Peter Parker is SCARILY good at lying. Years of training, he can go full waterworks in a second to REALLY sell it. Especially the whole “I’m just an innocent kid with bad luck” act. I mean, the guy spends his entire life with a secret identity— Of course, he has to be good at lying.

Yet, for some reason he’s the worst liar ever when it comes to his friends and family.

Tony? “That’s… odd. Happy told me you quit band six weeks ago?”

Ned? “I’m not Spider-Man!” while actively on the ceiling.

May? “I know you sneak out of this house every night!”

MJ? Just straight up, “I am Spider-Man.”

For some reason, his friends and family see completely through his lies. Or maybe, they really just see him.

[minimarvelh]

Peter: Mr. Stark, what does „MILF” mean?

Tony *choking on coffee*

Sam: well, Peter you know there is this sit-

Tony, shouting: MOM. is eeeeh li-living forever?

Peter, thoughtfully: oh okay, that means DILF is dad is living forever?

Tony: yeah, yeah baby.

Peter: that means AILF means aunt is living forever.

Tony: why not?

Peter: ok I got it, thanks!!

Sam: you know it can backfire?

Tony: shut up.

[owuwi]

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME.ᐟ

➤ ava starr x fem!reader

.ᐣ ava comes home late after a rough mission.

⤷ cw: touch-starved!ava, fluff, a bit suggestive, a short and probably a not-so-realistic description of french kissing.

──────────────────────

you were perfect—at least in ava's eyes.

if she could, she would never be apart from you. she had a safe, secluded home, she had you, why would she ever want to leave that? especially, why would she want to leave to work for valentina allegra de fontaine? hell, she didn't get why she did it—perhaps because it was what she was trained to do.

the only good thing that came out of her new job was the attention you provided her.

don't get her wrong, she hated making you worry and she always tried to keep you as calm as possible before she left, but she loved the treatment she received after a rough day—kisses everywhere, a warm meal, a warm bath, massages, everything she could ever need—.

she didn't expect it on those particularly bad days, though, on those times where she came home limping at three am—like her current situation—.

she closed the door to the house you owned together behind her as quiet as she could, not having the energy to phase through it yet not wanting to wake you up. her heart melted at the sight of you curled up, sleeping on the couch, her fingers quickly finding the button to deactivate her helmet so she could look at you better. it was no surprise to her seeing you try and wait for her awake, which most of the times resulted in you falling asleep on the couch, but she just loved watching you in such a peaceful state.

wincing, she managed to take off her shoes before walking over to you, a pained sigh leaving her chapped lips as she kneeled in front of you before kissing your temple. "i'm home..." she said, body shivering at the domesticity of the whole scene.

you stirred at the feel of her kiss and sound of her words—her voice hoarse thanks to the exhaustion—. opening your eyes, you were met with the british girl looking like hell—cute, like always, yet tired—. "ava..." you called out for her, moving your warm palm towards her face to cup her cheek.

"what did i say about trying to wait up for me?" she scolded you softly before standing up and then plopping down on the couch, shifting so she could hide her face against the crook of your neck and wrap her arms around you tightly. she took her gloves off so she could feel slip her hands under the fabric of your shirt and feel your bare skin beneath her palms.

"hush... you like it when i spoil you..." you replied, your eyes fluttering shut once again as you felt your girl's warmth even with her thick suit still on. you wrapped your arms around her neck and slowly started playing with her hair, smiling as you felt her relaxing even more against you.

without saying anything else, she started peppering soft kisses all over your throat as her shaky hands settled on your hips—holding onto your flesh like you'd disappear if she didn't grabbed you—. you allowed her to kiss all the way up to your lips, but the force she used to press her mouth against yours had you surprised. she was rough—sloppy, messy, eager—but there was still something so delicate about the way she kissed you.

you could genuinely tell how much she had missed you.

she only pulled away when the two of you needed to properly breathe, trying her best to ignore the string of saliva still connecting you both, and started kissing all over your face in a way that had you laughing. she loved your laugh more than words could describe; she loved you more than she ever thought she could love. she was so whipped and it scared her some times, she didn't know what to do with so many feelings.

ava pulled you into another kiss shortly after, teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip just to get the slightest taste of you—carefully, obviously, not breaking skin—. her hands roamed your upper body shamelessly, wanting to get as much of you as she possibly could. her head was fuzzy with the faint sounds of your whines and your soft flesh under her touch wasn't helping her calm down.

"e-easy there... you're tired..." hesitantly, you broke the kiss and mumbled—worried about ava's health. as you opened your eyes, you cupped her cheeks and gently brushed your thumbs against her soft skin, a feeling of concern settling in your gut at the sight of a large cut on her cheekbone. "i missed you... i really missed you..." ava commented as she leaned against your touch, not a single ounce of embarrassment—for being so honest about her emotions—noticeable in her tone.

"i missed your lips..." she added before leaning in and stealing a quick peck, clearly containing herself from fully making out of you right there. "i missed your smell..." she continued before nuzzling her nose against your cheek, closing her eyes and tensing her jaw as she tried not to break down.

but you knew your girl.

ava had always been... skeptical about showing her love for you. at first, it was worst—she pushed you away, not wanting to get attached, but how could she do so when you were so incredibly perfect for her? you showed her how to actually live and she was forever grateful for that, forever grateful for you. she couldn't lose you and she needed you, and she had troubles expressing that feeling. it didn't happen as much as it used to—her hiding herself from you—but you could still tell when she was holding something back.

"i missed you, too, so much..." you commented as you gently guided her head so she could face you again. "but i'm—..." you started yet stopped, knowing how much your next words were going to affect the british girl. "i'm proud of you, ava, you know that..." you whispered delicately as you brushed your thumb against her jawline, eyes sparkling with nothing but love and honesty.

she didn't like crying—god, she hated it. she hated how intense her cries got, how she felt her chest closing and crushing her organs, so she didn't allow the tears to roll down her cheeks. instead, she leaned in and kissed you again, tongue slipping into your mouth before brushing against your lips.

she pushed you back so you were fully pressed against the couch, her strong body caging you in as she kissed you with raw desperation. "s-so proud of you, baby..." you managed to repeat between the kiss and that was what broke ava down.

you were proud of her even when she committed all of those terrible acts? jesus, were you as sick as she was? truth be told, she didn't care—it was only more proof of how destined the two of you were of being together.

breaking the kiss, she rested her forehead against your shoulder and allowed herself to sob. her hands released your hips and instead wrapped her arms around your waist, her shaky palms pressed against your back.

she didn't even notice how sleepy she actually was until you changed your hold on her and wrapped your arms around her torso, her mind turning off as you slowly rocked her back and forth. "just—... a bit more..." her broken voice called out as she moved to kiss you again, basically making out with you despite the tears still rolling down and how drained she was.

you could get lost in her lips, and oh did you wanted to, but not in that moment. placing a hand on her chest, you pushed her away gently. "i like the way you kiss me... and i know you miss me because i can literally tell..." you said before laughing softly, taking a moment to admire her features. "but you need to sleep... let's go to bed, yeah?" you asked her and silently begged the gods above so your stubborn girlfriend would agree with you.

and she did.

she didn't comment anything else, she simply stood up and grabbed your hand—letting you stand up and guide her to your bedroom, a weak and trembly smirk forming on her redden lips. she was too tired to show you how much she needed you so the two of you shared a nice, tranquil night after you helped her get out of her suit, but you better believe she wasn't letting you escape the next morning.

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony may be a genius academically, easily understanding anything he sets out to research or create, but street smarts and common sense just do not come naturally to him.

And then there's Steve, who may not understand anything about astrophysics or calculus, but is extremely clever and sharp. His practical intelligence and strategy helps him outwit even the greatest of brilliance.

Steve, watching Tony bump into the same coffee table for the third time this week: You good there?

Tony: Yeah don't worry about it, I do that all the time. Practically have a permanent bruise on my thigh from it

Steve: Why don't you just... move the table?

Tony:

Tony: Huh.

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Chapter Title: Back to November Chapter Summary:  It's been 12 years since he met Sebastian. 11 years since he lost Sebastian and Sam. 10 hours since Tony Stark appeared in a hologram telling him there's a way to fix it.

It would change everything he's ever known...no relationships with Tony, Brittany, Dave, Xavier or Clint. He doesn't even know if the Sebastian and Sam he'd wind up with were the Sebastian and Sam he dreamed of.

Screw it...he wants them back!

10 Days of Seblaine 2023 Day 10: I Want You Back Only 3 Days late! 🎉🎉🎉

Note: Endgame is over. Be prepared for sciency-timey-whimey/canon-schmanon/I made this crap up explanations.

November 9th, 2023

It's been 12 years since he met Sebastian. 11 years since he lost Sebastian and Sam. 10 hours since Tony Stark appeared in a hologram beaming out of a lightsaber telling him there was a way to get them back.

But that was for another time. Today was about Tony.

You were never my Dirty Little Secret. I didn’t build Dalton to replace my workspace at the house in Malibu. You were never a replacement for Peter. You might have never said anything, but I knew. Of course, I knew because…say it with me…I’m a genius. But I’m also an idiot. Forgive me?

Before I go, I want to share this one last piece of my vast wisdom…I love you, Blaine Anderson. It’s time for you to love yourself.

“What do you think, Sammy? Is it time for me to love myself?” The dog rolled over so Blaine could rub his tummy. “Yeah, I know you love me. I love you too.”

Blaine tried to push aside Tony’s complete message until later, but it was impossible. Prior to watching the hologram, he’d only been told the cliff note version of how the Snap became the Blip. It involved time travel and shrinking to the size of Ant Man. Except for Natasha (obviously), they’d thought it had gone well. No one anticipated Nebula being swapped out for her past version, her letting Thanos through the time portal and…KABOOM!!

But now he had the full story...and a decision. Besides the lightsaber, Tony left him everything required to go back to save Sebastian and Sam, as well as some (emphatic) advice. Before he makes a rash decision, fully understand the possible ramifications.

He wouldn’t be there to prevent Brittany’s genius being discovered. Dave and Sebastian’s friendship could be affected, a friendship that helped Dave recover after his suicide attempt. Xavier might never realize what a truly amazing person his son was. Sammy would die without his early round-the-clock care. Lots of the animals he brought to Dalton would’ve died.

Tony and Clint wouldn’t have him during the five worst years of their lives.

Thomas Anderson, the man who put him on a Nazi hit list, would be free to find new ways to make his life hell.

And there was no guarantee the Sebastian and Sam he'd wind up with were the Sebastian and Sam he’d dreamed of for over a decade.

He closed his eyes to quiet his mind. He had no idea what to do. In his past life, the one before half the world disappeared, he’d look for signs. Like the one that day in Miss Pillsbury’s office that told him to trust Dave. Like the one that told him to protect Brittany no matter what. Like the one that would never let him cut off his relationship with Tony no matter how mad he was.

Like the one currently telling him to read Sebastian’s letter.

He moved Sammy and ran to the wall safe. His hands were shaking so badly he had to ask Saturday to open it for him. Then, as usual, he began to overthink. After all these years of not being ready, why now?

What could have Sebastian written all those years ago that would help with his decision?

The only way to know for sure was to read the damn thing.

It wasn’t the grand proclamation of love he assumed when Dave told him why Sebastian wrote him the letter, it was so much better. This was the Sebastian he remembered.

Killer,

When you’re ready, come get me.

Sebastian

ONE MONTH LATER

Blaine’s first attempt talking with Professor Hulk…Bruce, was a disaster. The Scientist/Superhero never had to turn all the science mumbo-jumbo speak into what Blaine understands speak. Tony had always been there to translate. Which meant, even though he didn’t want her involved, he’d never be able to make a final decision without Brittany.

Bruce volunteered to come to Dalton. He was one of the few people who knew what was hiding in the basement. But he was the only person who knew what was in Tony’s final shipment.

“But they say Do not open. That includes you, Anderson” Brittany pointed out as she and Blaine helped the injured Avenger open the boxes.

“And if Tony didn’t give Blaine the lightsaber, we wouldn’t be opening them. Tony wanted backups of the technology we used in the Time Heist. He didn’t trust the government, meaning Ross…if he returned, wouldn’t confiscate it when they found out what we did. And of course, Tony Stark was right. They did.”

Department of Damage Control not only confiscated the pad built to send Steve back to return the stones, they declared the battle site off-limits.

Blaine let a snort/chuckle due to the picture in his head. “Of course, Tony was right. God, he’d be insufferable and pissed at the same time.”

Bruce was no longer paying attention. He was focused on the content of the boxes. “Ah, here they are. Blaine, would you pick up that small box?”

“Sure.” The only small box he saw was covered in some kind of cooling container. “This one?”

“Yes. What’s the temperature?”

“4 degrees Celsius.”

“Perfect. I need you to open the box very carefully. One of the downsides of my transformation is the inability to pick up small objects without crushing them.” Blaine opened the box and found several small vials full of a red fluid. “Good, none of them broke. Put them in the refrigeration unit and we can talk.”

The three of them sat on the floor and Bruce began to fill in holes. What they’d found was PYM Particles. PYM Particles were necessary to get to the Quantum Realm. That started Bruce and Brittany down a sciency-timey-whimey rabbit hole, so Blaine went to fix lunch.

When he returned, the rest of the final boxes were unpacked, Bruce explaining each item to Brittany. There was some sort of space suit and a bunch of laptops and other computer related items. The supply shipments he’d received in the past couple months were materials needed to build a portal and control panel. The boxes delivered right before Thanos attacked the Avengers Compound were what was necessary to make it all work. Unknowingly, Tony got them to Blaine at the last possible minute.

After lunch (which cost half his monthly food budget for the eight people currently living at Dalton) Bruce left with the promise to be available if Blaine decided to go back. He told the giant, green scientist no matter what, his final decision wouldn’t be until after the new year.

He’d promised Brittany a big, over-the-top Christmas at Dalton.

January 14, 2024

Blaine tried not to think of Bruce’s unexpected video call as a sign, but he was failing. Today would have been Sebastian’s 29th birthday.

“Is this stuff Britt will need to translate for me? You didn’t say she had to be here.”

“No, but it is a little complicated. Just ask questions if you’re confused.”

“Ok, what’s up?”

“I know you saw Steve at Tony’s memorial but there’s a reason we’ve kept what happened to him a bit of a mystery.”

“He’s not living on the moon?”

“No, the truth is actually even more unbelievable. After the service, Steve took the stones back like I promised the 2012 Sorcerer Supreme. He just didn’t come back….”

“He disappeared?”

“No, he went back to WWII and then had a life with Peggy Carter.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I assure you...”

Blaine folded his arms and leaned back into the couch as Sammy sat up to attention. “I don’t care. No way.”

Bruce tried to channel his inner Tony Stark to…yeah, that wasn’t going to work. “Why?”

“Because no way in hell would Steve Rodgers go live a happily ever after with Peggy Carter without saving Bucky Barnes from becoming the Winter Soldier first. He’d never sacrifice one of the loves of his life for the other.”

“Um…what?”

“The Avengers, well…not Clint, believe Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, stormed a Hydra infested castle all by himself in World War II to rescue his childhood best friend?”

Now the supposed genius was even more confused. “Uh, yeah.”

“Left SHIELD, Peggy Carter’s legacy, immediately after discovering it was partially run by Nazis with flying battleships and millions of names on a kill list, including yours and mine, to find his army buddy?”

“Well…”

“Fought Iron Man in a Battle Royal, gave up his shield and destroyed the fucking Avengers to protect a poor tortured soul he knew 70 years ago?” Before Bruce could ask what the hell he was implying, Blaine added “I ship Stucky.”

"Ship?"

"Fan of the relation...ship, and I'm not talking not friendship."

Ok…oh…OH!! He and Tony always assumed Steve was a virgin. Maybe that only meant women. “Ok, that’s a lot to handle.”

“And he didn’t tell Peggy about Hydra being in SHIELD? Or stop the death of Tony’s parents? Or tell Thor what his brother was up to and stop the Invasion of NYC? Or…”

“Ok, ok, I get it. And if you could give me a minute to stop my mind from completely exploding, I might be able to explain, even the no rescuing Bucky part.”

Bruce took the fact the dog curled back down beside his owner as the sign Blaine was calm enough to continue.

“Steve didn’t come back through the portal after he returned the stones, but he did return. He was sitting on a bench 20 yards away, but he was old…over 100 years old, old and he had no idea what was going on.”

“What do you mean? Like dementia?”

“No, like no idea. Clues from his surroundings allowed him to fake his way through a conversation with Sam. Next thing Sam and I knew, Bucky had Steve on a plane to Wakanda. Evidently, he has a place there…” Blaine cocked an eyebrow and the thoroughly discombobulated man(?) paused when he realized why.

He had never seen Tony in Blaine before but now he’d swear he was his late friend’s long, lost younger brother.

“Ok, well, a few days ago, a Princess there, Shuri, she’s a lot like Brittany, she contacted me. Steve’s memory has returned, for the most part.”

“Great, I hope he and Bucky are happy. What does this have to do with me?”

“We had just enough PYM Particles for Steve to return all the stones and come back…or back to WWII. We only had those because Steve and Tony had to go back…”

“The 2012 Hulk got pissed about some stairs, 2023 Ant-man gave 2012 Tony a heart attack, and something about Alexander Pierce, America’s Ass and 2012 Loki disappearing with the 2012 Tesseract. Tony and Steve go to 1970 Camp Lehigh to get WWII Tesseract and raid Hank Pym’s lab.”

“I’m finally seeing the biggest difference between you and Peter. You get right to the point where he would have referenced Back to the Future or…”

“Bruce!” Blaine took a breath then put on a forced smile. “And the difference between you and Tony is he would have been done with this explanation by now.”

“Not if you told him what you thought about Steve and Bucky living together in Wakanda.”

For the first time since October 17th, Blaine laughed. Not snorted, chuckled or giggled. He laughed so hard it scared Sammy enough to run out of the room. “Maybe, maybe not. Clint came around but probably because his wife Laura is an even bigger Stucky shipper than I am. Now, if I promise to not mention Stucky again, you think you can promise to get…to…the…point?”

“Give me a minute.” Bruce tried to think of ways to streamline what he had left to tell Blaine. Maybe he should call Brittany. No, that girl was definitely a Stucky shipper. 

“As Tony and I worked on the gauntlet, I also worked on the plan to get the stones back to where we found them. Steve had already volunteered to do it after Clint told us about the weird guy with a red face on Vormir. Anyway, I was setting up a way to protect the PYM Particles. The increased amount necessary to complete the mission also increased the chances something might happen to one. We had exactly enough to get everything back. And then…”

“What?”

“I spilled a vial.”

Bruce’s comment when they found the box of PYM Particles made more sense. “So, you had to go back for more?” Blaine asked.

“No, I managed to save enough, Tony and I were able to break down the formula and make a replacement, plus the box currently in your basement. That’s the problem.”

“How?”

“The replacement particles were the last Steve used. I set it up myself. When he went back into the Quantum Realm the final time, he expected to come out when and where Bucky fell off the train. He’d save Bucky then make sure WWII Steve got out of the plane, with his shield and the Tesseract, before it crashed into the ice. WWII Steve would have his happily ever after with Peggy."

Blaine was finally beginning to understand. "Our Steve would then come back, give the shield to your Sam and go have his happily ever after on this timeline with Bucky. What happened?"

"I don't know for sure about the Bucky part..."

"Bruce..."

“Fine! Steve didn’t come out at the train accident. He came out on the plane. The thing was he wasn’t on the same timeline as WWII Steve, he was WWII Steve but with all his 2023 Steve memories. He managed to radio Peggy he found a way to get off the plane before it crashed and to send help. He spent almost 48 hours on the ice before they found him, but you know, Super Soldier serum. Unfortunately, by the time he was rescued all 2023 Steve memories were gone. He was WWII Steve again.”

“That would explain Bucky but not how he showed up in 2023 on the same day at the same time, plus 30 seconds.”

“He still doesn’t remember and Shuri’s convinced he won’t. The problem is she can’t tell if it’s a side effect of the replacement particles or that he’s 100 years old. Do you understand what this means for you?”

“Maybe? Something like since my particles are the replacements, if I used them, we have no idea what will happen.”

“Especially since we have the unknowns of Steve having the Super Soldier serum in his system and being considerably older than you. We do have another option. Hank Pym is back. We could ask him. However, the man has hated anyone named Stark for half a century.”

“No offense, but Tony Stark is the reason he and his family aren’t still stuck inside a fucking Hoover somewhere. He can get over himself.”

“And he might, until he found out Tony and I borrowed his formula. We could ask Scott and Hope to feel Hank out but there’s a risk.”

“More than me trying to go back in time with possibly defective, no offense, particles?”

“No…but, depending on Hank’s mood when he’s told what Tony and I did, there’s a good chance he’d turn us in to Ross and the DODC. Dalton would be raided, you and anyone living there would be taken into custody, and…”

“And Ross would get his hands on Brittany despite everything Tony and I did all those years to prevent that from happening. Bruce, I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved. I know you’re just trying to help. But I think I need to be alone right now.”

“I understand. And Blaine, I know I’m not Tony, but if you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”

February 3, 2024

Brittany planned a surprise party for his birthday. Her idea of surprise was it was on Saturday, two days before his actual birthday on Monday. The fact she was constantly on the phone making arrangements with him in the same room, ordered everything using Dalton’s accounts with local stores, and kicked him out of the Warblers Commons (living room!) so she could decorate didn’t make a difference. It was a surprise party, so he acted surprised.

God, he’d missed her so much during those 5 years.

Besides Dave, his newly returned father and Xavier, she invited former New Directions and Warblers. She also invited Pamela and Cooper. He’d only seen Pamela Anderson once since she Blipped back. In his mind, she wasn’t his mother anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. As much as he wanted to let go of his anger, he couldn’t forgive her role in the Christmas ambush all those years ago.

Cooper had a role as well, but it was not giving him a heads-up when he found out the ambush was happening. The brothers talked about it during Cooper’s stay at Dalton the first 6 months after the Snap and he eventually forgave him…but Blaine never forgot. This time there was no chance of reconciliation.

However, if he was going to do what Tony offered, he needed to say goodbye. Even if Cooper and Pamela didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

The next weekend was his real party with his real family. Dave, Xavier and Brittany (and Sammy) were there but so were Pepper, Morgan, Clint, Laura and the kids. They hadn’t been to Dalton yet and he was pretty sure Nate wasn’t leaving without a dog. Morgan was doing a pretty good job on Pepper too, but her focus was a fluffy white kitten.

Pepper was in Ohio for another reason as well. The return of half the world’s population of animals was more traumatic than when they disappeared. Dalton was full again in a matter of days but Blaine kept letting them come. They managed, and it was a great distraction for that other thing, but they had to have a better plan than the old one of Tony sending supplies every few weeks to disguise his shipments of Iron Man technology.

That’s where Stark Enterprise's CEO came in. There was an abandoned baby food factory not too far away. Pepper finished the purchase while she was in town. The two of them planned to convert it to a pet food factory. Dalton needed the supplies and locals needed the jobs. It was a boon for everyone.

It was also a way for him to take care of his animals if he decided to take Tony offer.

But the person wanted to talk to the most was Clint. So, while everyone else watched Morgan, Nate, Lila and CB (a name agreed to when Blaine felt odd calling the Barton’s oldest child Cooper) ride the horses, the Birthday Boy and retired Archer grabbed a couple beers and went inside to have a chat.

“So, this is the infamous letter? Sebastian was a man of few words. I like him even more now.”

“You never met Bas.”

“But you loved him and Sam…in different ways, of course. You barely knew Nat and never met Vision, but you cried when Wanda and I told you stories about them.”

“I cry at Christmas commercials…at least I used to.”

“You made my point. Now, not that I’m not eternally grateful, but why are we in here instead of the barn? My wife is going to have a few words for us for leaving her alone with Nate and his pleas to go home with Sammy’s brother.”

“Thor is a great puppy.”

“He’s also around 6 months old. Do you remember when Sammy was 6 months old…5 years ago? That’s still so weird.”

“Think how I felt when I found out the golden retriever mother and litter of puppies brought in was Sammy’s family. Though it was amazing to watch the reunion. Sammy and his mom knew each other immediately. When you guys planned to bring everyone back, did you remember it meant animals too?”

“Not really but Scott says he figured out it worked because of the birds. I figured it out when I realized no one at the cell phone company ever got around to cancelling the accounts of people who Snapped.  Then Thanos bombed the compound into oblivion and the rest is history. Why are you asking?”

Blaine went to the wall safe, put Sebastian’s letter back in and brought out a box he put in front of Clint. “Open it.”

Clint began to laugh when he saw the contents. “Stark finally built you a lightsaber.”

“It’s not a lightsaber.”

Hey, Bow! Miss me?

“Oh shit!” Blaine sat silently while the former Avenger watched the hologram his late teammate left behind. When it finished the lightsaber went back into the safe and he went back to the couch to wait for Clint to say something.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would. “That’s the shit Banner was so frantic to find? Still can’t believe it took less than an hour. But it was some sort of miracle we found everything safe in a pocket of the building untouched by the rubble. Then again, I probably fell 200 feet down, had barely even a scratch and the Infinity Stones lying next to me.”

“That explains one of the questions I had for Bruce, but no. Everything I need Tony had been shipping back here the entire time you guys were building what you needed for the Time Heist.”

“Stark was sending shit to you?”

“Saturday, open basement.”

Clint watched the bookcases separate and shook his head. That was such a Tony Stark move. Five minutes later he was shaking his head again but this time also swearing at the top of his lungs.

“Stark wanted everyone to sign…he fucking signed, those fucking Sokovia Accords, giving the government oversight over the Avengers and the entire time he was hiding shit here in your basement at Dalton to keep it away…FROM THE FUCKING GOVERNMENT?!!”

“Yes, but if you could put Ronan back in the box for the time being, I really need this to be about me for the next few minutes.”

“Low blow Anderson. Also, well played. Start talking.”

Blaine told him everything from the moment he watched the hologram the first time. All the changes the change in his timeline could make, the voice telling him to open Sebastian’s letter, Bruce’s visit, the unexpected call from Bruce telling him about what happened to Steve and how all his particles were the replacement particles, how they couldn’t ask Hank Pym for new ones because of the treat he would turn them into Ross and the DOCD.

After a recap of the Great Stucky Debate so Clint could get a clear picture of Bruce’s reactions, he only had one question. “When are you going?”

“I haven’t decided to do it.”

“Kid, you decided the minute Sebastian told you to come find him.”

"You're right, I did. I want him back."

November 8, 2024

There was never any other date. 13 years since he met Sebastian. 12 years since he lost Sebastian and Sam. 1 year since Tony Stark gave him way to get them back.

It was also enough time to, for lack of a better term, put his affairs in order.

The pet food factory was running and highly successful, not only by providing for animals but they created more jobs than anticipated.

Just in case, he signed the deed to Dalton over to both Dave and Xavier. Dave was going to run Dalton farm but Xavier was to rebuild the school. It was to be in the image of Dalton Blaine remembered, but open to anyone (boy or girl) in need of a place to stay. So many people, not just those who Blipped, were in constant transit looking for jobs. The New Dalton would be a boarding school where children would be not only educated but well cared for (in a zero-tolerance environment) while their parents found stability.

Brittany gave him no choice. Sammy was staying with her. She and Blaine bonded over their loss of the real Sammy and she needed a cuddle buddy to sleep with. Lord Tubbington wasn’t a cuddler.

How that damn cat was still alive was beyond comprehension.

When the time came, the only people he wanted there were Bruce and Clint. They all knew Clint was moral support, Bruce was in charge.

It took the scientist a couple visits to realize they were missing one of Tony’s GPS wrist bands. It took devouring Tony’s copious notes to figure out the lightsaber hilt replaced it. Blaine’s Quantum suit had a special pocket inside his right sleeve where it fit. The button above the red on was for going back and the one on the bottom was for coming home.

The date and time Blaine chose to return to was November 8, 2012, as he and Sam arrived at Dalton to convince then-Warbler Captain Clarington to help him get use of the Grand Staircase to serenade his self-absorbed ex. He’d get Sam alone, tell him he changed his mind and to go back to Lima for his date with Brittany. Leaving over 2 hours sooner meant Sam would avoid the accident…easy-peasy.

The problem was getting his Kurt Hummel-mind-controlled former self to remember the date, the significance behind it and find out why Sebastian was upset all before leaving Dalton. Then the idiot had to not only realize he was really in love with Sebastian but stop him from going to his weekly dinner with Dave. Once accomplished, he presses the home button and comes back to live with the timeline changes he made.

If his replacement particles weren’t so fucked up he wound up wrestling dinosaurs in a real-life Jurassic Park.

Blaine came out of his thoughts when he heard “You’re good to go.” Next thing he knew Bruce began counting backwards from 10, Clint gave him a thumbs up and he pressed the top button on his lightsaber.

It becomes a blur after that.

November 8, 201…

The blur ended and Blaine was in the hall of the former Dalton. He immediately noticed two problems…he was wearing a grey and white striped cardigan and could hear the beginning of Uptown Girl down the hall.

It wasn’t the day he lost Sebastian. It was the day he found him.

Fuck!

TBC

Notes:

Tried to tell you…sciency-timey-whimey/canon-schmanon/I made this crap up. Hopefully, I included enough back story to make it work for you. HOWEVER, true to form for me, I underestimated and one more chapter is necessary to finish.

I don’t care how smart those people were. Or that they had a Super Soldier, a Hulk, 2 men with suits to give them super strength, and a (out of shape) God on the team. With only those 5, 2 mere mortals, a Cyborg and an enhanced Racoon, it would have taken at least a couple months to build what they did. Plenty of time for Tony to send parts somewhere else for safekeeping. And how they all felt about the government by then (even Rhodey), I don’t believe any of the others would question his actions (even Steve).

The Christmas Ambush was in Character 3.

Some sort of miracle = plot armor. I’d like to thank Clint Barton for the example.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you open my Super Important Documents and its just pictures of charles xavier

[weeklybuckydoodles]

hiii

today's bucky doodle is a cereal commercial*

[mayebeobsessed]

Someone should write a thunderbolts fic where John gets amnesia in the middle of a fight and believes he’s in the field and is the most focused and diligent soldier they’ve ever seen.

He doesn’t know what going on but he only ask for currently relevant information and is giving military grade signals and calls. Everyone is a little off kilter and partially concerned.

[happy74827]

The Slowest Dance

[Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You helped him heal, so now he's teaching you how to let go

WC: 2309

Category: Slow-Burn, First-Kiss, Mentions of Past Events {Bucky taking the lead ✨😏}

This was 100% inspired by a random song I discovered 💀

『••✎••』

You helped him learn how to stand again. How to live again.

It started in fragments — little things, small moments that almost felt like accidents. The way he started drinking his coffee without flinching at the silence. The way he’d walk alongside you on the sidewalk and not scan every rooftop. The way he stopped apologizing when he smiled, as though joy was something he didn’t quite earn.

You didn’t push. You never did. You let Bucky come to you, step by step, at a rhythm entirely his own. And somehow, somewhere along that fragile timeline, he’d begun to reach for you — a quiet presence in the doorway, a hand at your back when the world got too loud, his voice saying your name like a prayer at midnight.

And still, it took nearly a year before you two even spoke about the word "together."

It was slow. God, it was so slow. But it wasn’t stagnant. No, it was warm, steady — like a pot of tea steeping on the stove, growing stronger the longer it was left alone.

He never rushed you. And you never rushed him.

Because you were just as terrified.

You’d never had anything like this before. Not even close. No relationships. No first kiss. No fumbling hands in the dark. Your life had been a quiet one, filled with books and daydreams and the kind of affection that lived solely in fiction. You weren’t broken, but you were untouched. New to it all. And until Bucky, you’d always thought maybe you’d just missed the window for something real.

But then he showed up. Healing and hurting. Trying. Learning. Soft with you in a way that no one else had ever been. And when he asked you out — really asked — it was the only yes you’ve ever felt in your bones.

That was three months ago. You’ve been dating ever since.

And still, no significant change.

Only his hands in yours. His arms around you. His smile across a candlelit dinner. And it was enough. More than enough, most nights. Until something inside you started wanting more.

And tonight… tonight, he feels different.

You felt it when you answered the door to find him already holding a grocery bag, his metal fingers tapping softly against the handles. He’d brought over ingredients for dinner — simple, homemade pasta. You cooked together, laughed through the sauce splatters and garlic burns, and now…

Now, you’re standing at the kitchen sink, sleeves rolled up, warm water running over your wrists as you scrub the last of the dishes.

You don’t hear him move behind you.

You just feel a shift in the air, like gravity tilting ever so slightly toward something inevitable. The sound of his boots softly stopping a few feet behind you.

Then—hands. Gentle, careful, but deliberate.

One arm wraps around your waist, the other lifts your elbow. You squeak, caught off guard, but before you can spin, he does it for you.

His strength is effortless. With one smooth twist of your body, he lifts you onto the edge of the counter like you weigh nothing at all. Warm hands on your thighs, cool metal bracing your hip.

And then he slides in.

Not touching you anywhere he shouldn’t, not forcing a thing. But he's there, between your legs, close and watching you in that way only he can. Like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this earth.

"Buck?" you whisper.

He says nothing at first. Just looks at you — really looks at you — and you realize this is it.

His eyes soften.

"I’m ready," he says, voice low. Rough like smoke, tender like velvet. "If you are."

Your heart is pounding so hard it echoes in your ears.

You nod, unsure, your breath caught in your chest. "I— I think I am."

“You sure?” he asks, tilting his head. “Because once we start, I don’t want you second-guessing. I want this to feel right. For you.”

He’s so close now. His thumbs rest just above your knees. His dog tags peek out from beneath his shirt. You’ve never seen his face like this — not just open, but certain.

"I want this," you say, honestly. Your voice shakes. "I want you. I just never…"

He leans in. Not to kiss. Not yet.

Just enough to ghost his lips near the curve of your neck. Close enough to make your whole body shiver.

"I know," he whispers. His stubble grazes the line of your jaw. "I know."

Your breath hitches. It’s not fear that makes you freeze — not anymore. It’s the weight of this moment. The fact that you’ve imagined it a thousand different ways and still… none of them prepared you for this.

The way he holds you steady, even when your hands start to tremble. The way your whole body pulls tight like a wire at the quiet promise in his voice.

"I just don’t know how," you say suddenly, breathless and vulnerable. It slips out before you can catch it. "I mean, I’ve never… I don’t even know where to put my hands, or how to tilt, or if I’m supposed to—"

"Hey," Bucky murmurs, cutting in before your spiral can finish. His metal fingers come up, tucking gently beneath your chin. His touch is impossibly soft. "That’s okay."

You meet his eyes, wide and uncertain, and he smiles. Not teasing. Not amused. Just kind.

"You know how I said it’s like a dance?" he asks.

You nod, lips slightly parted, trying to breathe through the storm in your chest.

"Well… it kinda is. There’s a rhythm to it. A give and take. Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow. But either way, you’re not doing it alone."

He brushes a thumb along your cheekbone, and you lean into it before you even realize.

"You don’t have to know how," he says softly. "You just have to let go."

Let go.

God, if only it were that simple.

"But what if I mess it up?" you ask, voice small.

His smile deepens — that gentle crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

"Then we laugh about it," he says. "And do it again. As many times as it takes."

You breathe out, the smallest huff of a laugh escaping through your nerves.

And then he leans in again — not to kiss, not quite yet. His lips find your neck, a whisper of a touch, softer than a sigh. His breath trails down the hollow of your throat, his nose nuzzling gently against your skin like he’s grounding himself in you.

"Just follow my lead," he murmurs, and his voice is lower now, wrapped in heat. "Like a slow dance."

Your hands, still unsure, find the hem of his shirt. Fingers twist into the cotton, anchoring yourself to him as his lips slowly work their way up your jawline, the curve of your cheek, your temple.

He’s patient.

He’s so patient.

And when his mouth finally brushes yours, it’s not a collision.

It’s a question.

You answer it the only way you know how: by leaning in.

It’s awkward at first. A little stiff. You’re trying too hard, your lips too tense. But Bucky’s hands never leave you. One cradles the back of your head. The other stays steady on your waist. He doesn’t deepen it right away. He lets it be clumsy. Lets it be yours.

"Easy," he whispers, pulling back just enough to breathe you in. "Don’t think so much. Feel it."

He kisses you again, slower this time. His mouth moves with yours, coaxing. You try to mimic the way he tilts, the way he lingers a little longer than you’d expect. You exhale shakily through your nose, and when your lips part for him, his tongue barely grazes yours.

Your whole body melts.

Your fingers tighten in his shirt. Your knees fall open just slightly. And something warm and electric flickers in your chest.

He deepens the kiss — not demanding, but inviting — and it’s like your heart is on fire. Everything in you lights up, nerve endings tingling, lungs gasping for air you didn’t realize you were losing. It takes a minute, but slowly, your hands find his shoulders. And then they slide up his neck, the nape of his hair, his scalp, until your fingers tangle in his messy strands.

He makes a noise—not a moan, not quite a groan, but something caught in the middle. His grip tightens at your hip, and when his teeth scrape gently at your bottom lip, it pulls a whimper from your throat.

It shocks you.

Not the noise, but the feeling that follows — the heat that rushes through your body, pooling deep between your legs. Your knees press together automatically, thighs clenching as your hips start to rock.

You want. God, you want.

And the second you realize, the moment you feel it, everything changes.

"Buck—"

Your words catch, lost beneath his mouth. You don't even know what you want to say. What words would even describe the sensation, the feeling, the overwhelming, burning desire that starts in your toes and travels up.

"Bucky," you try again, and this time, his hands move.

They slip around to the backs of your thighs. Metal and skin, both gripping, both lifting, as he slides you off the counter. He holds you easily — effortlessly, like he was made for this — and then his arms are wrapping around you, caging you in, and when his back hits the fridge, the cool metal is nothing compared to the heat of his body against yours.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you. To make sure you're still okay.

And when you are — when your lips find his again, a little more confident, a little more sure — that's when his fingers curl into your hair. That's when his mouth opens against yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, to tease you, to make you whimper and squirm against him.

You've never felt like this before.

Never in your life. Not once.

It's all-consuming. Like a wildfire. Like a star collapsing. Everything in you is burning and yearning and needing and wanting, and it's almost too much, almost more than you can stand, until his hands leave your hair.

Until he cups your face instead. Until he pulls back, just an inch, just enough to let you breathe.

"You alright?"

The words are husky and heavy. The sound of his voice makes you shudder, and suddenly, it's not his hands or his body or his lips that make your skin flush — it's the way he's looking at you. The way he's always looked at you.

Safe. Wanted.

Like you're the one thing he can't live without.

You're not scared. Not anymore. But that doesn't mean it's easy.

"You’re… a really good kisser," you whisper, and even saying it is enough to make you blush.

Bucky grins — slow and lopsided and so damn handsome it makes your heart stutter.

"Well, when you get to be a hundred years old, you have a lot of time to practice."

"I hope you haven't been practicing," you say, without thinking.

Bucky chuckles.

"Oh, doll," he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips across yours. "In my mind, I've been practicing with you for years."

And just like that, the world tilts again.

Not from the heat of his mouth or the way his body holds yours so perfectly, but from the truth in his voice. The way he says it like it's the most natural thing, like it's been written into his bones from the start. Like every lonely night, every haunted dream, every quiet morning he ever endured before you was just rehearsal.

You press your forehead to his, and you’re still breathless, still trembling, but it's not fear that holds you anymore.

It’s wonder.

“You really mean that?” you whisper.

His metal hand comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. His blue eyes search yours — unguarded, open.

"Every word."

You knew then, deep in the marrow of your bones, you’d never forget this moment.

Not because of the kiss, though God, you’d never forget that either, but because of the way he looked at you when he said it.

Like there was no one else in the world.

Like there never had been.

Your fingers relaxed in his hair, your body still tucked so tightly against his, and for the first time in your life, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have a map for any of this.

You didn’t need one. You had him.

And maybe that was the point — maybe love wasn’t something you learned ahead of time, rehearsed behind closed doors, mastered before anyone could see you stumble.

Maybe it was something you built together, step by awkward step, just like a dance.

The music didn’t matter. The rhythm didn’t matter. Only the hands holding yours. Only the arms that caught you when you missed a beat. Only the voice, warm and steady, reminding you through every slip and tremble—

"You don’t have to know how. You just have to let go."

And so you did. You let go.

And when he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper — you kissed him back.

Not perfectly. Not expertly. But fully.

Because this time, you weren’t thinking.

You were feeling. You were falling. You were his.

And somewhere — between the warmth of his lips, the strength of his hands, and the quiet rasp of your name from his mouth — you knew, without a doubt, that you’d never been more alive.

You helped him learn how to stand again. And now, he was showing you how to fall.