#but there is a LOT of mcu content to consider here

[goosewriting]

Could I get a scenario for joaquin x reader: where the reader is an avenger (she was like a protege to clint and natasha) but her main job was designing the suits and gear for other superheroes that works better with their fighting styles. Sams nickname for her is Sketch.

Sam introduces her to joaquin at Isaiahs gym (she trains there but looks after him on sams behalf). She starts to study joaquin to better understand how to equip his suit. After one of their cases, joaquin wanted to make a note in their sketch book where their designs are but ends up finding a different notebook that are not suit/gear sketches, but sketches of everyday things and most of the sketches are of him. Reader walks in to see joaquin found their personal sketch book and freaks out and becomes a stuttering mess. They end up confessing to each other and please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or two lol. Sorry if this is long, but I had some inspo and your work has been lovely 😊

Sketch

summary: Joaquín discovers that reader’s sketchbook features a lot of drawings of himself.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: none, fluff! kisses, maybe secondhand embarrassment lol

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i decided to use ‘sewist’ here as a gender neutral term instead of seamster/seamstress. i also changed it a lil bit so that Sam hasn’t seen the green suit yet. and i added a lil bit more at the end to lead up to the kiss, which i hope you’ll like!<3 tysm for requesting, this was such an adorable ask,, it took form in my mind almost immediately and i kept squealing at how tooth-rottingly fluffy this one would be 🙈🙈

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

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For years, you’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit, helping out by designing their costumes and fighting at their side. After coming back from the blip and getting the news that many of your friends were gone, you decided to fully go into the designing side of helping out all heroes. You’ve made countless garments and weapons of all shapes, sizes and materials.

So while you still keep up with your training, these days you consider yourself more of a sewist and tinkerer than anything else. You mainly hang out with Sam, who introduced you to Isaiah Bradley, one of the few super soldiers still alive from back in the day. He’s let you claim one of the empty offices of his gym as your workspace. You like working there while there’s background noise, be it music or other people training in the ring or with the equipment.

In exchange for using the gym as your base of operation of sorts, you help Sam take care of Isaiah by taking walks with him and making sure he’s eating properly. He may not be physically frail for his age, given the serum, but he’s as stubborn as he’s strong. Since he’s gotten a bit of a soft spot for you over time, you try your best to keep him busy and content. 

One day, Sam comes in with someone new. From where you sit in your office, which has a window to the main training area, you see your friend approach with someone you don’t know, so you get up and approach them. Immediately you come to the realisation that this new guy is extremely handsome and charming. 

“This is Joaquín,” Sam introduces him. 

“Joaquín Torres, Air Force Captain,” he says, stretching out his hand to you. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“And this is Sketch,” Sam continues, pointing to you. 

“Sketch?” Joaquín asks with a slight tilt of his head. You chuckle and tell him your name, shaking his hand. 

“That’s just what Sam calls me,” you explain with a smile. 

“Yeah, well, you’re sketching in your book all the time,” he says and elbows your side playfully, then turns back to Joaquín to tell him how you’ve helped design most of the outfits everyone has worn over the years, including his new Captain America suit. 

“That’s impressive,” Joaquín says with raised brows and looks at you. A slight heat erupts on your face at the earnest look in his eyes. “Sam was so kind to let me have his old Falcon suit. You think I could run some ideas by you?”

“Of course,” you offer, pointing to your office. “Come by any time.” 

From that day on, Joaquín drops by the gym several times a week, with or without Sam. He mainly uses the time to train with Isaiah, but he also enjoys visiting you and watching you work, chatting about anything and everything while you sew away. 

One morning he comes in to train, and from where you sit at your desk, you can see Joaquín at one of the treadmills. Despite your best efforts, your eyes keep drifting to his figure doing some cardio, with his back to you. At one point he changes to another machine, where he pulls a bar up and down, with the weights lifting and sinking behind him, sitting so that he’s facing your office. Again, you find your gaze drifting to the window instead of focusing on the work on your desk. Risking taking a proper look, you lift your eyes and look to the side. To your surprise and shock, you find him looking at you as well. Both of you are quick to avert your eyes, cheeks prickling with heat. 

That afternoon, you come out of the office to take some measurements. Sam puts on a mock-up of his new suit you’ve made, and you diligently measure everything, taking notes in your sketchbook that you use for designing. Joaquín stands next to you, arms crossed over his chest, following your movements curiously. As you finish measuring Sam’s arm in different positions, you turn back to your book, using some piled up boxes as a table, and jot down the numbers. 

“Do you have all designs in there?” Joaquín asks, pointing to your sketchbook. You pause momentarily, caught off-guard by the question, then you turn to him.

“I mean, not all of them,” you explain. “There’s probably at least forty more books, all with previous iterations and ideas for everyone’s suits and gear.” 

“Wow,” he says, looking at Sam and giving an impressed nod. But then he turns back to you with a mischievous smile, and Sam rolls his eyes, knowing what he’s going to ask. “Do you also have sketches of Ant-Man’s suit?” 

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, then look over to Sam. He merely shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“Unfortunately no. It wasn’t me who designed his suit,” you say, and Joaquín looks a bit disappointed at that. Now it’s your turn to look at him with a glint in your eyes. “That’s oddly specific. Don’t tell me, you’re a fan?”

“Of course I am,” Joaquín retorts, and Sam laughs, giving him a pat on his shoulder.

“I’m still not introducing you,” he says, and Joaquín pouts. 

You laugh as well, then clasp your hands together, giving your sketchbook one last look.

“Okay, Sam, you’re all done, now it’s your turn.” You turn to Joaquín, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Your suit is in my office, there’s a changing room, you can go put it on there.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, starting towards the office, turning to Sam as he walks backwards. “You’re gonna love this.”

Sam looks at you with confusion and suspicion. 

“Just wait and see,” is all you give him. 

A couple minutes later, Joaquín comes out of the office donning his Falcon suit. Sam looks him up and down, recognising the design.

“Is that…”

“Yep,” Joaquín says with outstretched arms to show off his new look, doing a twirl. 

“The new colour was his idea,” you say, walking all around Joaquín to check if the suit sits properly. You come to a short stop when next to him, and lift your eyes to meet his. “And I think green really suits him.” 

As you continue checking him over, you miss the knowing look that Joaquín and Sam exchange. 

“Oh, this doesn’t look quite right,” you say, noticing how there seems to be extra fabric at his waist, instead of sitting flush. You grab your fabric marker, drawing some lines where you’ll need to take in the sides. Only when you’re done do you realise how close to Joaquín you’ve been standing, and how his gaze is cast to the side, a flustered look on his face. You’re quick to take a step back, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable. 

“So, how does it feel? Any pinching? Can you move properly?” you ask him, perhaps a little too quickly in an attempt to change the subject, and he starts moving his limbs in all possible angles, trying out the suit. “If there’s anything at all, please let me know.” 

You pick up your sketchbook to take some notes as he continues trying out the range of motion. 

“Nope,” Joaquín finally says, coming to a halt, and his smile makes your heart hiccup. “It’s perfect, really.” 

You look away, feeling the heat prickling at your cheeks, and the look Sam is giving you is certainly not helping.

“Well if there’s anything at all, or any ideas you might have later, feel free to add them to the sketchbook,” you say, showing him the page where the Falcon suit design is. “Even if I’m not around, there’s post-it notes in my office. Feel free to write down any ideas you might have.” 

“Will do,” Joaquín says.

“Alright, we’re done then. Thanks to you both,” you say, turning to Sam and then to Joaquín. They both nod in acknowledgement, and you walk back to your office with Joaquín to drop off your sketchbook and materials, leaving it all on your already cluttered desk.

You walk out again so that Joaquín can change in peace, and you see Sam get his phone of his pocket. He reads a text and announces he has to go, so you accompany him outside for a moment to see him off. 

When Joaquín comes back out from changing, he finds the two of you gone. Since he’s still holding the suit, he leaves it on the bench in your office, where there’s piles of fabric and other materials. He lets his eyes roam over the space, strangely endeared by how much it contrasts with the rest of the gym. This corner really feels lived in, he concludes. There’s hints of you everywhere. 

He scans the desk next, seeing little figurines, varying from various animals to faceless wooden people, probably used to design the suits. There’s also several bobbins with coloured thread, post-it notes all over, and the sketchbook. 

A thought occurrs to him of a change for his suit that he wanted to ask about earlier, but then promptly forgot when you ended up so close to him. Since you offered earlier for him to write down his ideas, he decides to do that before he forgets again. Without really looking, he grabs the sketchbook and opens it, his other hand going for the post-it notes and a pen. However his movements come to a sudden stop when his eyes land on the open book. He flips to the next page and realises that is is not your sketchbook. Well, it is, but not the one he meant. 

Joaquín quickly shoots another look to the desk below, only now seeing the other sketchbook peeking out from underneath some other materials which you had used earlier when he was trying on the suit. He knows he shouldn’t snoop, but when his eyes land back on the drawings in his hands, he can’t look away. 

This seems to be your personal sketchbook, full of ink and pencil sketches of different daily objects, landscapes, the gym. He recognises the ducks in a pond to be the park nearby, there’s a couple of sketches of Isaiah, Sam, and then him. Joaquín’s heart flutters as he flips another page. Him again. His mind is screaming that he’s very much intruding in your privacy right now by looking at all of these, but he just can’t stop himself, as he finds that the more pages he flips through, there’s fewer and fewer landscapes and animals and almost every sketch is of him. From the back, pulling weights, smiling, laughing, focused while reading something. The strokes around his face start out a little unsure, a bit squiggly even, like they were drawn in a rush. But with every new sketch, your hand seems to have grown more and more sure, flowing over the page until you knew the shapes by heart, his eyes, the curve of his nose, where each and every mole and freckle sat on his skin. He swallows thickly as he flips one more page, his eyes landing for merely a split second on an unfinished sketch of him from behind with no shirt on, the contours of his nape and shoulders marked over again repeatedly, the lower half only sketched out softly, like you hadn’t had a chance to–

Joaquín looks up at the sound that leaves your throat, something between a shriek and a horrified gasp. You’ve appeared in your office again, but he didn’t hear you approach at all. Your eyes dart between the book in his hands and his face, your own beyond flustered as you realise what he just saw. With quick steps, you shorten the distance and snatch the book from his hands, snapping it closed with a forceful thud. He opens his mouth to apoligise profusely, but you’re quicker.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” Your voice is squeaky, and the embarrassment and shock on your face shift to something closer to anger. “What were you doing?”

“I swear I didn't mean to snoop!” Joaquín says, raising his hands in defence, then points to his suit still on the bench as he rambles. “Sam and you were gone and I wanted to check the notes on the suit again, but I guess I grabbed the wrong sketchbook, and I’m so sorry, I swear it was an accident.”

You groan, your anger dissipating and making room for the earlier emotions again, and you lift your closed sketchbook to cover your face, shoulders tense as you hide behind it.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a creep or something” you say in a small voice, and he chuckles. That’s not the reaction you expected, so you open your eyes and peek over the book to look at him. An adorable blush starts dusting his cheeks.

“Of course not,” he says softly, fidgeting with some clutter on your desk before bringing his eyes to meet yours. You hide behind the book again. “I’m flattered, truly. I get why Sam calls you Sketch, there’s a lot of them. They’re really good.”

There’s a pause, and your hands tighten around the book. Surely he’s just teasing you.

“You really think so?” you risk the question.

“I do,” he says. You’re still not looking at him, and you think you hear Joaquín take somewhat of a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve been stealing my own fair share of glances at you too, I just lack any artistic skill, otherwise I would–” He stops himself abruptly. You dare peek over the book again, and he looks just as flustered as you do, which you find reassuring, but doesn’t really help you calm down. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you hold his gaze this time.

“What I’m trying to say is that some of the sketches seemed a bit rushed. I wouldn't mind it if you… took your time.”

“Are you offering to model for me?” you say after a moment. His blush darkens a bit, and he nods sheepishly. You need to force yourself to breathe normally. “I’d like that,” you add in a small voice.

In that moment, Isaiah enters the gym and calls Joaquín over. He excuses himself and joins the older man while you sit down at your desk, finally letting go of your book, and find your hands trembling. Did that just happen?

After a moment of just sitting there and looking down at the book, now slightly bent from your grip, Joaquín comes back to your office, and you look up.

“Isaiah is going home, and Sam already left,” he announces, then seems to think something over. “Would you like to grab some dinner? Right now. With me, I mean. Or in a bit. Whenever you have time.”

“Let me just finish up quickly here and I’ll be right outside.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process his request. 

“Okay,” he shoots you a smile so radiant that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you hold onto the edge of your chair out of his sight, fearing you might collapse to the floor right then and there.

Without wasting a second once he’s gone, you’re quick to put everything away and place Joaquin’s suit on your desk so that it would be the first thing you work on tomorrow. You put the sketchbook with the design notes in the top drawer, and the one with your personal sketches you pack into your bag. Another wave of heat prickles at your cheeks when you hold it, thinking back to how Joaquín had seen your many drawings of him. 

After you join him outside, Joaquín and you walk to a nearby restaurant, it’s small and there aren’t many people there yet as it’s still pretty early in the evening. Sam and you come here all the time, the atmosphere is cosy and the menu is really good. You guide Joaquín to one of the booths at the end and order some food, a pleasant conversation taking place while you eat.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands on the napkin and take out your sketchbook and mechanical pencil, clicking it a couple of times to get the lead out.

“Oh, right now? Okay,” he says, and leans back into his seat. “What should I do?”

You flip the pages as quickly and nonchalantly as you can magange until you land on the last sketch, and you clear your throat.

“M-maybe we’ll leave this one for another time,” you say in a small voice, flipping to the next blank page. Joaquín unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile at the proposition. You scan the room around you. “Just, uhm, lean your head onto your hand and look to the side for now, at that picture with the flowers for example.” You point to the frame on the wall. 

“Okay,” he breathes, leaning his head on a propped up elbow and lifting his gaze to it, but it flickers back to you. “Should I like, smile, or something?” 

“Whichever you prefer,” you say, and start sketching on the paper. Your eyes dart up to him and then back to the page repeatedly. 

After a moment, when you look up, you find him with his face still tilted like you indicated, but his eyes are on you. Your movements stop and you feel a shudder climb up your spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant, it makes your skin tingle. You hold your pencil to the page, unable to look away from him.

“You’re supposed to look that way,” you say, gesturing to the side with your chin.

“I like this view better than the flowers, though,” he says, seemingly completely unfazed, while your face is set ablaze. You can’t think of any good comeback, so as you look back down to your sketchbook, you mumble, “Suit yourself.”

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, save for the music and background chatter, where your flustered face shifts into focus, and you work diligently to translate his handsome features onto the page. All the while, he watches you work, enjoying the different expressions you make when you get something wrong and erase it, or when you finally figure it out and confidently place stroke after stroke onto the paper. As he comes to the conclusion that he could watch you forever and never get bored of the sight, another blush spreads on his cheeks, and he has to look away for a moment. 

Once you’re done, you add final details here and there, then place down your pencil and hold up your book, checking the drawing over. He drops his hand onto the table, expectantly waiting to see the finished product.

“It’s done,” you say, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, and for a moment you consider not showing him. But after he sat so still for you, how could you not? So, gathering some more courage, you quickly turn the sketchbook around, placing it into his waiting hands, and you bring your gaze down to the table while he inspects it.

“Wow,” Joaquín breathes, and warmth spreads in your chest. “This is… This is incredible.”

“You like it?” you ask, daring to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Of course!” He looks it over once more, pink still sprinkled on his cheeks, then gives you back the book. “You’re a fantastic artist. Thank you for drawing me.” 

He looks like he wants to add something else, but then decides against it. Your brows furrow slightly.

“What? What is it?” Your mind immediately goes to negative comments, like he was about to follow up with a ‘but’, saying that it didn’t even look like him, or that you brought out all his worst features and insecurities. 

“How do I put this,” he says more to himself than you, propping up his elbows on the edge of the table and bringing his closed hands to his chin. It takes him a second to find the right words, and when he looks up to meet your gaze, your heart skips a beat. A warm smile starts spreading on his lips as he talks. “Compared to the ducks in the pond, I feel like you put more care and attention to detail into drawing me. Seeing myself through the eyes of someone who… You know. Someone like you. I kinda feel invincible right now.”

You can’t help but laugh heartily, not in a mocking manner, but more so in relief, as you feel exactly the same. 

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a glimpse, then,” you say, and for a moment, you’re so lost in each others’ eyes, you don’t see the waiter approach. 

“I hope everything was to your taste,” the guy says in a practiced customer service voice, and you both jump slightly. He starts taking your empty plates that you pushed aside. “Would you like to ordersome  dessert?”

Joaquín and you decide to share some ice cream, and once you’re done, he pays for the meal despite your protests, insisting that it was him who invited you to dinner after all, and you walk back to his car. 

“I’ll make sure to have your suit done first thing tomorrow,” you promise when you arrive, and your hand reaches out to open the door, but he takes it in his instead, interlocking your fingers, and you turn toward him with big eyes.

“I may not be an artist,” he says seemingly out of nowhere, stepping closer while still giving you enough space to back off if you wanted to. “But I can give you a glimpse of how I see you in other ways.”

Your brain short circuits for a second, taken completely off-guard by his comment. His other hand comes up to your face, softly brushing his knuckles over your cheek, which surely feels much too hot to the touch. You’re now somewhat trapped between Joaquín and the car, while he’s still making sure you can step aside, but you have no intention of doing that. So your own hands come up, trembling a bit, and you place them on this chest. He takes that as a sign to get even closer, and you can feel his racing heart through his shirt, matching your own erratic heartbeat. 

“For example?” you demand, but your voice is so weak, you're not entirely sure if he heard you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and his hand fully cups your cheek. “I’ll admit I've been wanting to for a while now.”

Unable to produce a single word, you merely nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans in. It’s still pretty early and there could be people walking by and see you, but you don’t care. Once his lips are on yours, the whole world around you disappears. You’re glad the car holds part of your weight and you can partially lean onto it, since your legs seem close to give out underneath you. The hand on your face cradles the back of your head while the other snakes around your waist. Joaquín kisses you slowly, tenderly. He gingerly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a slight tug, and he swallows the shaky breath that escapes you, his mouth on yours again. 

The kiss lasts forever and not nearly long enough at the same time, and when he pulls back, you blink a couple of times, looking up him.

“Wow,” is all you manage to say, and he chuckles, backing off you so you can stand properly again. He opens the door for you and you take a seat, still unable to form a single coherent thought.

Joaquín walks around the front of the car and climbs in as well, turning on the navigation system.

“Where to?” he asks, and when he turns to look at you, waiting for you to tell him you address, you grab the collar of his bomber jacket, pulling him close to you once more to give him another kiss. But before he can fully melt into it, you let him go, and quickly sit back.

“Sorry, oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, and he chuckles again. He gently pries your fingers away so you look at him, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing your hand to his face and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

The way his eyes glisten in the dark, only illuminated by the street light outside the car, sends an explosion of butterflies straight through your gut and you have to look away. To distract yourself from the erratic pace your heart is beating at, you bring your attention to the console and enter your address, starting the navigator. Joaquín starts the car and you take off. 

“Will you come back by the gym again tomorrow?” you ask after a while.

“If it were up to me, I’d be there every day,” he says, and you feel even more heat spread on your face, if that’s even possible. “I’ll try my best to come by, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay…” 

“Maybe you can finish that one sketch of yours,” he says with a smug grin, and you playfully hit his shoulder with an embarrassed groan as you remember the drawing of his bare back you had started on a whim but couldn't bring yourself to finish. 

As Joaquín drives you home and you sneak another looks at his side profile, you realise that at this rate you'll need a new sketchbook, dedicated entirely to him.

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fire & Ice 🔥🧊 | MCU!Johnny Storm Imagine

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Characters & Pairings: JosephQuinn!JohnnyStorm x enhanced!reader (romantic), the Fantastic Four (platonic), The Avengers (platonic).

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of canon violence and death, canon divergence, light angst | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7K

Requested 📨 yes/no

Premise: Earth-616 is no stranger to the multiverse. Since the defeat of Thanos in 2023, the Avengers have had their fair share of visitors from other worlds and know what to expect when they do. But when a man wearing the same face of their late comrade arrives, the Avengers are in for the shock of their lives when a group of heroes tailing the individual fall through the portal behind him. And for the flying, fire-wielding, and sometimes charming Johnny Storm, he meets his match in the form of a woman whose power and reputation matches that of her cold, steel, heart.

Note: Happy 2025 everyone! To kick off the year I am gifting y'all this damn idea that's been stuck in my head the past two weeks. Now if you've been following my work since I started, then you know I was pumping out Marvel fics back in the day. Phase 1-4 of Marvel have my heart, and unfortunately the disappointment of Phase 5 (with few exceptions) had me lose interest. BUT if there was one thing I absolutely loved when I was a kid, it was the OG Fantastic Four movies with Chris Evans, Jessica Alba, etc. I watched those literally every day and before the Avengers/MCU I rolled hard with the FF, Blade, & X-Men (I've got another idea involving Deadpool & Wolverine cooking). So I have a lot of expectations for FF: First Steps especially because the MCU has had so many misses the last two years. I love Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, and Joseph Quinn, I haven't watched The Bear, but I've heard great things about Ebon Moss-Bachrach and I look forward to his and the rest of the cast's portrayal of the FF.

I've been a fan of JQ since 2022 because like majority of people I discovered him by his performance as Eddie in Stranger Things. I'll admit I haven't seen much of his filmography, but I did watch A Quiet Place: Day One and he was phenomenal. And don't get me started on Gladiator II. I was pleased to hear he'd be playing my first love Johnny Storm and I know he'll do amazing, not to mention he has said that he was a fan of the OG movies and Chris' version of the character. Whenever I hear an actor is a fan of the source material, I know they're going to deliver.

The movie hasn't come out, neither has the trailer, so I don't have much to work with. But we know that FF:FS is following the origin story of the FF and will feature the Silver Surfer. AND it's rumored to be where RDJ's Doctor Doom will debut, setting up Avengers: Doomsday and he will be the big villain of the MCU. This obviously is diverging from canon and pretty much an AU story, remember that please. SO here's my treat to my fellow Johnny Storm lovers to feed y'all since we still got months until FF:FS. Enjoy.

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

The blinding light of the sun peaking through the curtains pulled Johnny from his sleep before the alarm was set to go off. Had it been any other day he’d be upset. Wishing nothing more than to curl into the comforter and get the extra minutes of sleep. But thankfully it was Sunday--the day reserved for rest. No agenda. No training. No missions. Completely free and dedicated to recoupling after a week filled with non-stop action. 

And if there was anyone who would be displeased at waking up earlier than needed, it was the woman lying beside him. Fast asleep on her back with one hand curled beneath the pillow and the other clasping his on her chest. Body cooler than the average person, which made the atmosphere of the room comfortable considering Johnny’s was hotter than the average citizen. Figuratively and literally. 

Johnny smiled, happily tucking himself further into her space, chin leaning on her shoulder as he snuggled against her side. Allowing his eyes to flutter close and accept the slumber his body itched to claim. The fresh scent of shea butter from her shampoo and body wash filled his nostrils, and he sighed in content. 

This was what life was worth living.

But just when Johnny welcomed the darkness, the annoying, blazing sound of their alarm clock echoed against the walls, disturbing the peaceful moment and making him flinch and groan. “Dammit,” he rolled onto his back, arm reaching to slap at the air until his fingers grasped the device. Snoozing it asleep with a press of a button. 

Now he was fully awake.

Flinging himself back onto the mattress, he felt her body shift before letting out a soft chuckle, “Had you turned it off when you first woke, you’d have spared yourself this torment.” Her voice was laced with tiredness, and Johnny turned his head to find her eyes still closed but clear amusement painting her visage by the smirk on her lips. 

Rolling his eyes, he moved to lay on his side and brought his arm around her waist, “Why didn’t you? Seeing as you were also awake.” 

“Too comfy.”

“Well, so was I,” he sassed, mouth hovering over her jaw before leaning down to kiss the skin, the coolness sending a chill along his spine. She hums, nuzzling into the touch, seeking it.

“The alarm is also on your side.”

Johnny smirks against her cheek, mischief coating his gaze, “you could’ve reached over me, you know. Saved us both the hassle.” His hand reached up to stoke her jaw, trailing to tangle his fingers in her hair. Soft and silky. He takes a moment to appreciate the beauty before him. From her thick eyelashes, to her lips. Her cheekbones and kissable lips. 

“Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you,” she challenged with no actual bite to her tone, one eye peeking open. “Me on top of you in the morning.” He didn’t even deny it, flashing a toothy smile

“Very much so.” 

Instead of replying, Y/n moved to push the man onto his back, throwing her leg over his waist to lay herself on top of him. Johnny’s hands immediately grabbed her, keeping her body pressed against his with one hand on her back and the other firmly on her hips. The heat radiating off his complexion clashed against the frostiness of hers. Two polar opposites coming together in an explosion of love and devotion. 

Johnny welcomed it with open arms, bringing her mouth to his in a tender kiss. Chuckling as she fought away while mumbling about morning breath to which he didn’t care. He kissed her like his life depended on it. Like they were the only two people in existence. For there was nothing sweeter on the planet than the taste of her lips on his. 

And thanks to the fire that consumed his veins, Johnny was spared from getting frostbite.

“Happy?” She asked while pulling away, but not getting far as Johnny cupped her jaw in his hand to keep her close. Kissing her once more after mumbling, “exceptionally.”

The tale of the Human Torch falling in love with the Ice Princess begins long ago, three years to be exact, when the Fantastic Four find themselves sitting across the table of Earth’s mightiest heroes, the Avengers. 

Everything leading up to the moment was still a blur to the young Johnny Storm. One moment he and his team, the Fantastic Four as they called themselves, were fighting the formidable Doctor Doom in their 60s-style futuristic Earth. And the next they are pulled into another universe while tailing the bastard to prevent him from bringing utter destruction to the world. It hadn’t even been five minutes and the Four were surrounded by armored trucks and individuals donning costumes similar to their own. 

“Hands where we can see them!”

“State your name and purpose!”

“Who are you and where did you come from!”

Johnny’s heart pounded against his chest. The anxiety piling up like a volcano ready to explode as he took in the scene before him. There were guns pointed at him and his friends. A man in a blue tunic and red cape with his hands raised in defense next to a young girl wearing a brown tunic. Another man in a red, white, and blue tactical suit with wings who landed in front of them. His shield reflecting off the light. Next to him was a man in a similar attire with wings but in grey. Then there was a woman in all purple, bow and arrow trained on the Four. A man with five golden rings on either wrist. A masked individual in a bright red and blue suit with spider webbing detail crouched on top of a car. And finally, a woman in a striking gray tactical ensemble stood closest to Johnny with a cold look in her eyes. 

Upon making a flame with his hands, ready to defend himself and his friends, Johnny watched her face shift to amusement. Raising her brow as though unimpressed by the trick, “Don’t even try, hotshot.” And without taking her eyes off his, her palm raised up to form an icicle in the shape of a dagger. Her other arm extended to show her skin turning completely into ice. 

Yeah, Johnny wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal that consumed him. He often confused them at times. All he knows is there was a pretty woman before him with ice powers with cold eyes ready to strike him down with God knows what laid in store for him should he dare tempt her. 

But now wasn’t the time to flirt. There were more important matters at stake. Like the fact they were surrounded by highly advanced, highly enhanced, people with an army of soldiers at their command. In a place that looked like New York but lacked the 60s style he was accustomed to. 

“Cuff them and begin transport to HQ!”

“Find me Banner and clear this area at once!” 

The Four were at a loss. Outnumbered and confused, none able to process what the fuck was going on. They lost Doom. He was God knows where and they were not a match against these strangers. So they took their loss and compiled as they were restrained by agents.

“What the fuck is happening, Reed?” Johnny demanded, struggling against the cuffs on his arms and ankles. His power seemingly unable to melt the damn things which both intrigued and terrified him. 

“I don’t know?”

“Where are we?” said Sue from beside the genius, expression full of confusion and slight fear. The last thing she remembered was falling through a glowing yellow-orange light in the shape of a ring and the feeling of nausea hitting her full force. Giving her whiplash. 

But before anyone could answer, the blinding light of the sun hit them as the door whipped open and agents ushered them out of the vehicle. Clashes of voices, cameras flashing as news crews desperately tried to breach the barrier guards had formed and even a helicopter flying above. Johnny glanced up to take in the chaos, gaze falling onto the large building before him with a giant ‘A’ 

The Four are led to a large glass encased room, still cuffed, and ordered to sit and wait while armed guards post themselves outside. Expecting someone to come in and interrogate them, they take the moment to assess the area. Noting that the glass room sat perched above a large space, like a bullpen, where people were rushing to answer phones, type on computers, or stood watching the vast tv screens splayed on the wall. The news channels played footage of what transpired on the streets moments prior. The Four tense when they see an image of Doctor Doom, disappearing after falling from what appeared to be a portal in the sky. 

Just like they did. 

The sound of the glass door opening captured their attention, turning to find the man in the wingsuit and the woman in gray. Their body language showed they were on high alert, analyzing the Four for any potential threat, and they exchanged a look before the man set down his shield on a free chair while the woman placed a stack of files onto the table. 

“I’m Captain Sam Wilson, this is Agent Y/n L/n,” The man spoke first, cutting right to the chase, “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Here?” Reed repeated, perplexed.

“Earth-616,” Y/n answered, locking eyes with each of the Four, lingering on Johnny before falling onto Reed. “At first we suspected you’re with Hydra, or part of the team Fontaine has been cooking up. But ruled those possibilities out once we saw the footage of your friend who preceded you in the portal.”

The Four processed her words, unable to identify the names she spoke of. 

“Hydra?”

“We don’t know who this Fontaine person is, but we can assure you we’re not involved with them.”

“You saw Doom? We have to find him immediately!” 

“I’m sorry, did you say Earth-616?,’ Reed reeled back to her initial answer. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest with a nod.

“I did,” she then turned to Sam, lowering her voice but they were still able to hear everything, “This isn’t going to be easy, Cap. They obviously hadn’t discovered what we know and that makes them a liability.”

“We have no choice. Whoever traveled with them is still out there and they know what we’re up against. We need them.”

“And how exactly are we going to send them back to where they came from?”

“We’ll figure it out like we always do,” Sam’s tone grows stern, but Y/n holds her ground and doesn’t reveal any ounce of intimidation. “Strange and Banner can find something.”

Johnny, having had enough of them talking about them as though they weren’t right there, spoke up with annoyance, “Can you two please tell us what the fuck is going on? What do you mean “send us back where we came from,” and that we hadn’t discovered what you apparently know?”

Reed pitches in, “Sounds like you’re suggesting the theory of the multiverse is real and that we’ve somehow breached the gap between space, time, and reality and have fallen into a parallel universe,” the genius scoffs, gaze flicking between the two as though waiting for them to say, ‘Sike!’ only for his stomach to plummet in fear as he saw how serious they were. “Oh my God.”

Reed’s reaction to the implication was enough to cause the same in his friends. Sue’s face paled, Ben froze, and Johnny felt a sudden urge to throw up. They were in another universe.

 They watch as Y/n removes a device from her utility belt, stiffening as she points it at the man, a buzzing sound emitting from its speakers causing her brows to furrow and the man leaned over to read whatever it was on the screen. “You’re human, like us, and your DNA appears to be altered with enhanced biological traits.” Glancing up from the screen, her head tilts with suspicion, “but that’s not the interesting part…..your readings indicate you obtain multiversal particles.”

The revelation sent the Four into hysterics. All denying at first the inevitable truth, speaking over each other, struggling against their cuffs--which Sam removed once they calmed down. Reed was dealing with shock and excitement, for the scientific discovery was something he always theorized was true. Meanwhile the others were more fearful of what this meant for their world and the one they were in. 

For hours after the initial shock wore off, they stayed in that room until all information was exchanged between the groups. Sam infomed the Four they were at Avengers campus, headquarters for the Avengers. A team consisting of biologically or technologically enhanced individuals responsible for the safety and order of Earth-616 against domestic, international, and intergalactic threats.

“Well now we can add multiversal to the mix,” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly annoyed with having to deal with another damn enemy after they’d finally defeated an adversary not long ago.

Part of Johnny wanted to laugh at her irritation, but that probably would’ve made things worse on his end. So he kept his mouth shut. 

Sam and Y/n were soon joined by the man in the tunic, who introduced himself as Doctor Stephen Strange. A Master of the Mystic Arts who had experience traveling the multiverse, and had even met a variant of Reed years prior. 

He didn’t go into detail obviously of how that ended.

Not long later he was followed by a large man who’s physique rivaled Ben’s and was green. “Dr. Reed Richards, meet Dr. Bruce Banner,” Y/n did not look up from her tablet, full focus on the screen. “You two will surely get on well with figuring out what the fuck it is this Doctor Doom wants with our world.”

While they didn’t join the group, Sam explained who the other team members were that helped attain the Fantastic Four. Stephen’s protegee, America Chavez, who had the power to travel the multiverse--which had Reed’s eyes bulging from his head. He definitely wanted to have a conversation with her. There was Kate Bishop, the purple archer who trained under former Avenger, Clint Barton. Sam’s wingman, Joaquin Torres, and Shang-Chi, who possessed the Ten Rings. Lastly there was Peter Parker, the boy donning the red and blue webbed suit. 

They mentioned the Thunderbolts, another team of enhanced individuals who were more anti-heroes and had once been adversaries of the Avengers but are now allies. Then there was the Guardians of the Galaxy. A team of intergalactic heroes traveling space and protecting the galaxy from threats not on Earth. The Norse Gods of Asgard, now living on Earth. Shuri, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, and the Marvels. Lastly, they touched on former Avengers. Ones who retired, like Barton, and the ones who perished. 

Finally, when things seemed to settle, Johnny decided to lift the mood by saying, “So do you guys have nicknames? Or like code for when you’re on missions?” Sue shot him a look that read, “For the love of God, Johnny.”

Y/n lifted her eyes from the tablet, giving him a once over, “Are you serious right now?”

“What?”

“Aye, take it easy, L/N,” Sam pitched in, waving a hand for emphasis. “Can’t blame the kid for being curious.” All he receives is a mock scoff. 

“Okay, Captain America.”

Johnny’s ears perked up as he looked at Sam with interest. Boyish grin plastered on his face, “You’re called Captain America? That’s really cool.” He motions toward the suit and shield, “Should’ve guessed as much though with the colors of your suit and stars.”  

“I used to be the Falcon, but Torres has taken on that mantle. Strange is just strange,” Y/n snickered under her breath, causing Johnny to bite back a smile. “We call America, Miss America.”

Ben nods his head in approval, “fitting.”

Sam continued listing off the aliases of the team, finally coming to Y/n who narrowed her eyes with a frown as he said, “And she’s the Ice Princess.” 

Honestly she should be grateful for the nickname and that it sounded quite regal in comparison to other ice related names. Hell, they could’ve dubbed her Frost. Or Snowflake. Or God forbid Icicle. At least with the Ice Princess it made her sound both menacing and dauntless. Still, it was too on the nose. And it didn’t help that before the accident that granted her the powers and the Avengers, she was a socialite in America. Before they died, her parents were wealthy investors and friends with the late Tony Stark.

Johnny didn’t try to hide his grin, “The Ice Princess,” earning a glare from the woman, obviously not amused by the nickname nor his delight from it. 

“And what do they call you, hotshot? Firestarter? Flame-man?” 

He shrugs sheepishly, cheeks a tint red, “Human Torch.” Now that has Y/n’s lips curl, fighting back the smile as she hums.

Setting the Four up at campus, they were given rooms and full access to the labs and training facilities. Reed and Ben immediately joined Banner, while Johnny and Sue decided to observe the Avengers and learn from them. Their dynamics. Their history. The way they train and how they come together to develop strategy. How they are able to make a team consisting of individuals with different levels of abilities, experience, and ethics work. 

Johnny would be lying if he said he wasn’t the most curious about Y/n. Not only was she the most beautiful, and quite terrifying, woman he’d ever met, but he was drawn to her aura. The power she held, both physically and on the team. She was extremely intelligent, a mentor to the young members, witty. Unafraid to go toe-to-toe with Sam or Strange. 

And her powers….they were exact opposites. Fire and ice. Hot and cold. Where he controlled flames, she manipulated glaciers. He turned himself into a human torch, she transformed to a human icicle. 

Talk about opposites attract. 

Days passed, and the two teams merged together with the goal of locating their common enemy. By keeping up with the news and reports of suspicious activity, they were able to narrow down the search for Doom. Suspecting him to be hiding somewhere in the New England area. 

The day before planning to scour the location, the teams trained with each other, none holding back. Showing off what they were made of. An enthralling experience considering the Fantastic Four had only been a team for a couple years in comparison to the fifteen plus of the Avengers. Banner being the only founding member there, Sam and Y/n not far behind. 

“I like her,” Sue whispered to her brother when Y/n sideswiped Joaquin and put him on his ass. The group made a circle around the matts in the gym and were taking turns going against each other. Sue caught the way the man’s gaze followed the Avenger. Mesmerized by her skill and ability. And Sue always knew when her brother had a crush. “You should go next when it’s her turn again.” 

Johnny didn’t respond, but the look on his sister's face, a cheeky smirk told him he wasn’t being conspicuous as he thought he was with his feelings. “Shut up.” 

The most tense, and nearly destructible moment, came when the Four discovered a photograph of Tony Stark on the wall of a different debrief room alongside the founding Avengers. Who bore a striking resemblance, well actually he was identical, to Dr. Victor von Doom. The man they were after. 

There was screaming. Accusations thrown at each other. Of course suspicion and confusion from the Four. Up until that point the Avengers only saw Doom with his cloak and mask from the footage, and the Four hadn’t described his appearance. And while the Avengers mentioned Tony Stark, they didn’t show any pictures. 

It calmed when Strange had to remind them about the existence of variants. He met Reed’s when traveling to Earth-838. Peter Parker met two of his. It was completely possible that their Victor von Doom was a variant of their Tony Stark. Were they the same man? Not really when one thinks about it. But they shared a face. The Reed Richards Strange met looked nothing like the one standing in front of him. While in Earth-838, Strange met a young lady who worked with Christine, that world’s version of the Ice Princess, who was not Y/n. Peggy Carter was their Captain America!

Oh, and there was the big detail in the fact that Tony Stark was dead. 

When the commotion settled and the two groups lost their steam, Johnny noted the deflated appearance of the Avengers. All falling quiet with unreadable expressions. Peter excused himself, “I-I don’t feel good. I’m gonna go lay down,” but the blonde saw the way his lip trembled and eyes watered. Rushing out of the debriefing room on a mission to get away from everyone before he burst into tears. A feeling of guilt suddenly consumed Johnny, glancing at his friends who shared the same concern. 

Banner was quiet, as was Strange. The others, who didn’t know Tony personally, shuffled on their feet and quietly excused themselves as well. Sam had his back to everyone, a distant look in his eyes as he gazed down at the bullpen below. 

And then there was Y/n. Sitting in silence with her hands clenching the arms of her chair, white knuckled and jaw so tight he swore he saw a vein protruding. Her breathing was shallow, eyes staring blankly at the wall. 

Johnny felt unease, unsure of what to do. Should he say something? Should they leave the room? Nothing felt right at that moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this new revelation changed everything. This was no longer just containing a multiversal threat, this was personal so to say. 

He was spared the ordeal when Sam finally spoke, only to be interrupted by Y/n, “You know you don’t have to--.”

“Do not finish that sentence, Sam.”

He turned away from the window to look at her, tone serious, “I’m trying to look out for you, Kid.”

“What’d I tell you about calling me that?” 

“And Peter,” Sam continues, not letting up, “No one will fault you two for wanting to pull out of this.” 

She scoffs, offended by the insinuation as she stands from her chair. The atmosphere in the room heated up again, and Johnny tensed, watching the woman step forward so she was nearly chest to chest with Sam. “There is a multiversal madman out there and you’re suggesting I stay grounded?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “What the fuck, Sam?”

“This is different, Y/n,” his voice was steady, willing her to understand. He wanted the best for his team. And their situation was unlike anything they’d ever dealt with. “You have to realize that. This Doom is--.”

“Not him, Sam! Y/n threw her hands up, yelling as the anger she had tried to contain began to unleash, “I’m not fucking stupid! For Christ’s sake, I know that’s not Tony and I’m not going to compromise this team because the man we’re up against has the same face as him!” 

“Y/n--,” Strange attempted to intervene but she shot him a look and he immediately backed down. 

“If you think Peter and I should back out, then so should Banner,” she pointed to the man who had yet to say something since the news of Tony’s variant was revealed. “Him and Tony founded this team. And let’s not forget your history with the damn Accords. Should I go call Rhodey and see what he thinks?” 

‘Accords? Rhodey?’ Johnny thought to himself, not familiar with the term as he thought back to the lessons on the Avengers. They must’ve omitted that detail, assuming it was a rather dark part of their history. A confirmation he got from the reactions of Banner and Strange, who’s expressions were complete shock and appalled. 

Sam’s demeanor shifted to that of hurt and exasperation, her words hitting him like a bullet from a gun. “That was low, even for you.” Yeah, whatever it was they were references, the Four gathered it wasn’t good. 

Y/n stepped back as though he struck her, a flash of regret in her eyes but she kept her head up, willing herself not to break. “I’m an Avenger. I took an oath, the same as you, and made a promise to Tony that I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this planet against any and all danger. I will not break that promise, and nothing you say or do will stop me.” Y/n backs away, moving toward the door, “I’ll see you on the quinjet tomorrow, Cap.”

An eerie silence remained as the door slammed shut behind Y/n. Nobody moved. Nobody made a sound. The air was thick, and full of tension. The Four glancing at each other with uncertainty. 

“Wings up at eight,” Sam announced, voice strong with authority as though the last five minutes never occurred. Or didn’t bother him, though Johnny noted the pinched look of his brows.

The Captain then departed the room, Strange and Banner following out with a nod to the Four. Left to their own devices, the Four spent the next hour in the debrief room watching footage of the Avengers. Particularly ones with Tony Stark, the Iron Man, and the several catastrophic missions he dealt with alongside the Avengers. Provided with the mountain of videos from news channels and social media of people who experienced it first hand. 

New York 2012. Ultron 2015. The Superhero Civil War of 2016. That’s where they learned of the Accords Y/n referenced and how she and Sam were involved. The two on opposite sides of the scale as Y/n pledged allegiance to Tony while Sam supported former Captain America, Steve Rogers. Witnesses flying a private plane around the airport captured the fight between the two teams. 

Johnny watched with a frown as Y/n battled against her colleagues and friends. He could tell she was holding back on using her power to the highest degree, not really wanting to hurt them, but enough to send a message. For example, when Steve and Bucky attempted to flee to the hangar, Y/n created a layer of ice on the pavement, causing them to tumble and fall. Then she made a wall of ice to contain Scott Lang in his giant form. But that was a failure, as the wall wasn’t thick enough allowing Scott to break free, sending chunks of ice toward the ground, knocking the hero unconscious when one collided with her head, blood spilling from her temple. To prevent her from being crushed, Tony flew in a record speed to gather in his arms and rush her to safety. 

Later that night when Johnny was wandering the building, he found Y/n on the balcony overlooking the main grounds. A hue of orange and pink painting the sky as the sun set on the horizon. The dark blue of nightfall taking over lurking in the background. She was out of her suit, dressed in casual clothes consisting of a hoodie and sweats. A faint expression on her visage as she stared out in the distance. 

Gathering courage, Johnny took a deep breath before gently sliding back the door, the cool breeze hitting him in the face as he closed it behind him and approached the woman. Her head tilted slightly, acknowledging that she heard him, but made no move to address. 

They stayed like that for a minute. In silence, basking in the peace they were afforded before the impending danger they were to face. 

“I’m sorry you all had to witness that,” Y/n eventually spoke, tone neutral as her expression. “That was unprofessional of me.”

Johnny shook his head with a shrug, “You don’t have to apologize. I can’t imagine what you and your friends are feeling. And I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions--accusing you guys of--.”

“Considering what you told us of Victor von Doom,” She sent a pointed look, her voice one of understanding, “you had every right to be cautious. Plus,” she sighs, gaze flickered down to the railing, “you four are still new to the Multiverse. We’ve known about it for five years, and I remember that feeling of confusion and uncertainty. America told us all about her experiences traveling through various realities.” Y/n’s frown deepened, shuffling on her feet with unease. “In one world, she met a version of me that hated the Avengers--and tried to destroy them.” Her body shudders, and not from the wind, “That stuck me for a while. I couldn’t imagine a world where I was the enemy. Whose goal was to hurt the people I cared about. Steve, Nat, Tony.” 

Johnny nodded, leaning his elbows on the railing as he pictured it. Surely there were versions of himself out there in the multiverse. He wondered what they were like. Did they have the same power? Did they get to live a normal life like he once thought he would? Was he a hero? Or was there a version of Johnny who went against all he stood for? 

He too, refused to imagine a scenario where he’d want to harm his sister and friends. It saddened him to even think about such a thing. And the way Y/n said Tony’s name, showed him she felt the same.

“Was he your father?” the question left his lips before he could stop it. Immediately regretting upon the distant look that encompassed her visage along with the glossiness of her eyes.

“He was the closest thing I had to one after my own died,” Y/n bit her lip, scoffing lightly, “actually even when mine was alive. Met the man when I was five--my father invested in Stark Industries and the two were good friends. I have fond memories of going to Stark Tower and watching Tony’s expos.” A small smile appeared, but it soon turned to a frown. “My parents profited off the sciences and technology, but didn’t really care to understand it.” There was a bitter taste in her mouth as she spoke, and Y/n was a bit surprised she was being so open with Johnny. A rare feeling, for she was hardly this vulnerable about her past with her teammates. And she’d known them for decades almost.

“I was always smart growing up but they never acknowledged or praised me for it. Told me college wasn’t necessary since we were wealthy and what good would higher education be when we were well set. Mind you,” she shoots a glance at Johnny, who was watching her intently. “My father went to business school in Chicago and my mother was a journalist before they got married.”

“The pot calling the kettle black,” he muses, tone laced with disappointment on her behalf.

“Exactly,” she sighed, shaking her head as she looked back toward the city. “My father laughed when I told them I wanted to pursue physics at MIT. Told me if I was going to go to college then I should do business where the money was at--as if I needed more fucking money,” Johnny heard the frustration and sadness in her voice, picturing a young Y/n with dreams who just wanted the support of her parents and was denied. Thinking about it made his heart strain.

“Anyways, Tony was the one who helped me get to MIT. It was my freshman year he got kidnapped and became Iron Man. Barely saw him after that because his partnership with my dad ended.” Fiddling with her rings, Y/n closes her eyes briefly while taking a breath, then shrugs nonchalantly, “My folks were among the casualties in New York, my accident happened not long after….” she straightens up with a sniff, “Tony Stark helped me find purpose. Told me there were greater things for me--and my powers could be a tool to help people. He took me under his wing when the government advised him not to. I owe everything to him.” Turning to lock their eyes, Y/n’s gaze is filled with determination. 

“As he died I promised him to continue his legacy. I intend to keep it, until my last breath.”

Defeating Doom proved itself to be the most defining moment for the Avengers and Fantastic Four. Lasting months on end, for each time Doom was in their grasps he managed to get two steps ahead of them. Thankfully the integrity of space, time, and reality didn’t seem to disintegrate with the Four in Earth-616. Something the geniuses of the team were concerned about. 

When it was finally over, Doom neutralized and the multiverse saved, the Avengers and the Four--bloodied, bruised, and covered in grime, dragged themselves to a nearby shawarma joint to pig out. Beer flowed, music sounded from the jukebox beside the round table they took claim to. 

And after months of tip-toeing around feelings, Johnny and Y/n finally said ‘fuck it,’ falling into step together as a unit they both craved. The Ice Princess seated firmly in his lap with her head tucked under his chin, eyes fluttering closed as the exhaustion kicked in. 

For Johnny, he’d been crushing on the woman since he first laid eyes on her. Keeping his affections hidden as he knew deep down it would be unwise to pursue anything with someone who 1) was from another world; and 2) he needed to focus on the task at hand. 

The same went for Y/n, who realized her fondness for the blonde about a month after he arrived. She’d be lying if she didn’t find him attractive during that first meeting. Anyone with eyes would agree. But she knew better than to be involved with him given their predicament. 

Yet, by a power greater than universe, the man of fire melted her frozen heart. He wasn’t put off by her cool attitude, unlike most people when they first meet Y/n. Yeah he got under her skin with his boyish charm and flirtations, but he never crossed any lines. Always respectful. Always mindful. 

Neither were sure when things changed between them. Maybe it was when Y/n pushed him out of the way of a line of fire from a Doombot causing her to take three bullets to her back and nearly bleed out right there in the middle of the street. Or when Johnny spent a week in a coma for exposing himself to a deadly dose of radiation to prevent Y/n from doing so. Whatever it was, the two could no longer beat around the bush. And the night before the final battle against Doom, they confessed their feelings on the balcony overlooking Avengers campus. Sealing their promise to stay alive with a kiss.

“You sleepy, darling?” Johnny murmured against her hair after finishing a conversation with Shang-Chi. Tightening his arms around the woman when she nuzzled his chest before laying a sweet kiss to her forehead. 

“Just resting my eyes.” His finger brushed her cheekbone, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, making Y/n sigh in content. 

“Rest,” he told her, not buying it at all, and by the tone of his voice she knew he was smiling. “I’ll wake you when we’re ready to leave.” All he received was a hum, the man beaming as he carded his fingers through her hair. And when Johnny lifted his gaze he met his sister’s, who’s expression was full of fondness, shooting him a wink as she gestured toward the sleeping Avenger in his lap. 

‘Told you so,’ Sue mouthed, grinning at his pink tinted cheeks. 

‘Shut up,’ he mouthed back, though he returned the smile. 

In the days following their victory, one question remained: Will the Fantastic Four return home? America was their ticket out. All she had to do was open a portal. It may take time, but eventually she’d shuffle through enough realities until she found theirs. Luckily in the months they’d been away, the fabric of reality remained intact. 

In all honesty, that fact alone is what made them contemplate leaving. 

The Fantastic Four didn’t belong in Earth-616 having landed there by mistake, but it had been almost a year. Integrating themselves into the Avengers and developing bonds. Besides the romantic feelings between Johnny and Y/n, the remaining Fantastic Four were not sure if they wanted to leave. Reed and Ben enjoyed working with Banner and Strange. Sue longed for female companionship, and found that with Y/n and the other women of the Avengers. And Johnny connected with the guys. They all became friends.

They became a team.

And since they weren’t leaving anyone behind in their world, what harm was there by staying? The Avengers could use more allies. And who knows another high level threat would appear. Threatening the existence of the universe. They needed a strong team, and defeating Doom proved they were one. 

Yeah, it was a no brainer. 

Now here they were two years later. The Ice Princess and Human Torch cuddled in their bed, in their apartment in Avengers campus, on their day off where they could enjoy the peace as no new threats had emerged in the last two months. 

Johnny groaned when Y/n pulled away from the kiss, moving to sit up so she was straddling his hips. The comforter falling behind her as she fought against his firm grip when he attempted to pull her back down. 

“Sorry, hotshot, no sleeping in for me today. I have to get ready.”

He tilted his head, partly confused, partly offended, “For what?”

“I promised your sister I’d have breakfast with her.”

“But it’s Sunday,” He sat up, hands gripping her waist as he moved to press kisses on her neck. “We don’t do anything on Sundays. Except sleep….” he trailed off, pulling away to give her a cheeky smile, “and give each other some lovin’.”

Y/n chuckled, tilting her head back as his plush lips captured her chin, trailing down her jaw until he found the place behind her ear. “Baby, I’ll give you all the loving this afternoon until the sun sets and the moon rises,” she feels him shudder against her, smirking in satisfaction. “But I’m a woman of my word.” 

Lifting herself off him, she leaned over to her side of the bed to grab her rings off the nightstand. Returning to his lap as she placed them on her fingers. Her college ring on her right hand, and the beautiful Cartier stack consisting of her engagement and wedding rings. Once all were placed on her finger, Johnny lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles just below. His own wedding band shining against the sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

“Don’t keep me waiting too long now,” Johnny flirted, chocolate eyes sparkling while pressing her hand to his chest where his heart laid. Heat radiated off his body. “I might come looking for ya.” The words earned him a playful glare.

“Behave,” she scolded without any bite. “Or I’ll punish you.”

“I want you too,” Johnny challenged, winding his arm around her waist to hold her closer. 

All she did was shake her head, laughing at his behavior while he continued his assault on her neck, allowing him a few extra kisses before she really had to get up. “You are something else, Johnny Storm.” 

“And you love meeeee.”

“I do,” she breathed out, tilting her head down to meet his lips halfway, hand cupping his jaw. He sighed in victory, chasing her mouth each time she pulled away, causing her to giggle. “Johnny! The sooner you let me leave, the sooner you get to have me all to yourself.” 

He groaned again, loosening his hold but not completely letting Y/n go. “Fine,” he mumbled, pouting, but smiled when she kissed his cheek. “Bring me back a coffee, please?”

“Of course, my love.” 

With that he reluctantly let go of her waist, allowing his wife to get up from the bed. But before she could make her way to the bathroom, Johnny caught her hand, making her turn back to him with a raised brow.

“Some say the world will end in fire.” He begins to recite the famous poem by Robert Frost. What started as a joke between the two because of their abilities, transformed into something far more intimate. The poem itself was about human emotions, and their power to lead to self-destruction. Fire was fast, Ice was slow. Together they were each other's strength and weakness. And despite being complete opposites, they both played a role in dismantling humanity. 

But for Johnny and Y/n, they managed to do the impossible. They bridged the gap between fire and ice.  

Y/n smiles affectionately, lifting her free hand to the back of his neck to scratch at the nape of his hairline. “Some say in ice.”

“From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.”

“But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice.”

“Is also great,” They both recite, leaning in to capture each other's lips as they whisper the final line of the poem. 

“And would suffice.”

[tarithenurse]

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

[alpaca-clouds]

Let's Talk About "Marvelfication"

Okay, let me try to get this out of my system, because I do have some thoughts on this one.

See, as you know, I finished Dragon Age: Veilguard last week. And I did enjoy the game. I never was that attached to the franchise. I really enjoyed Inquisition back in the day when it came out, but after doing two runs with it never have really returned to it. I also did play one of the older games, though I am not fully sure which one, because it was a long while ago. But I just never got that attached to the franchise. (Which mostly has to do with my own personal issues with High Fantasy.)

But that is not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is more the thing I have seen now multiple people call out: "The Marvelfication" as some have called it. And mind you, I absolutely do agree with this: There were several scenes in this game where I thought to myself: "This feels kinda MCU."

However, what I kinda want to talk about is the specific wording here: "Marvelfication." Because it is super understandable that the first thing that comes to mind (for me as well) is the MCU. But I think the issue is way deeper than "MCU is popular, so let's do something like the MCU".

A lot of folks on Youtube and other platforms have talked about how a lot of "tropes" that people blame on the MCU are actually older than the MCU. The reason people associate it with the MCU is moreso that the MCU is just fucking everywhere since it became this big thing. It is what defines the media landscape.

The big issue actually is another one, though: Those tropes are everywhere because in a more and more conservative media landscape they are considered safe. These types of jokes are not risky in any way. These types of characters are not risky. These types of stories are not risky.

It is stories that are set in societies that are messed up, and then there is a big conflict that only tangentally relates to the ways the societies are messed up in, and then that conflict is resolved but the status quo does not change.

And that more than anything is what I would criticize about the game. Outside of very prominently centering some trans issues, the game has taken very little risks.

I wrote about that a bit last week in comparison to BG3, how safe the companions in Veilguard feel. This shows so harshly in direct comparison to BG3, because really, Larian sat down with player and told you: "Those assholes are your companions. Take it or leave it." Those people I know who never finished BG3 mostly never did because they could not stand the companions. Meanwhile those who, like me, got obsessed with the game, mostly did it because it feels so fucking satisfying when you start to get through to the companions after they started out as those assholes. This satisfaction is something Veilguard never really offers you - because... Well, I can assume that some of these characters had some edges at some point. But whatever edges there had been, those have gotten smoothed down, so now everyone is perfectly sweet. Sure, they might argue a bit here or there, and if you make decisions they do not agree with, they are gonna be pissy with Rook for a bit, but that's the most of it.

Same with a lot of other stuff. There is basically no sexual content in this game. You get one sex scene that is super tame and you see nothing - and one to two kisses per romance. No risk.

Any no matter what kinda choice the characters make, they are all gonna be nice, you know?

There is one thing in the finale of the game that is kinda risky, I will admit. But I will not talk about that yet, because I knwo a lot of people have not finished the game.

But for the most part the game does not risk anything.

And really, that is the core of what folks call "Marvelfication". Because pretty much this is also the issue with Marvel and Star Wars and pretty much all American made media: Outside of some smaller productions, some of which do well with the tumblr crowd but barely get any attention from mainstream audience (*coughs* Interview with the Vampire *coughs*) there is little risk taken. The humor is the same everywhere because this humor is considered safe. The characters feel kinda samey everywhere, because those characters are safe.

It is why I have stopped going to the cinema, because these days there are barely any movies I consider worth watching. It is ironically also why I have recently watched a whole lot more Japanese stuff, because it is easier to find stuff there that does not play it that safe.

It is also why I do these days mostly consume western stuff that has a 18+ rating on it - because at least with that stuff I know that it probably is not gonna play it "safe".

I just wish some media took more risks. I want those medium budget projects back, that cost like 30-50 million, so can make a profit with 100 million at the box office, without doing billions. I want some stuff in there that is not a big IP. I just want... stuff.

Right now I am looking at the soon end of What We Do In The Shadows, mostly because it is one of the few things on right now that does some risky stuff. And I miss those SyFy low budget originals, because some of it was kinda risky. Ugh.

The issue is not Marvel. It is not even Disney. It is that the creative industries in the US right now mainly put out big budget stuff that because of that big budget needs to be loved by everyone.

And look, I am trans. Hence I absolutely do see some value in the fact that Bioware clearly took position and said: "Okay, we get to do one risky thing, so that thing is gonna be to incluse a variety of trans characters." Which I love and respect. But I kinda wish the game had not been quite that pretty and instead also included a bit more edges on the characters.

... But I guess in the end there is still fanfiction, where I can still make the characters messy. lol

[lunesviolettes]

Void - 03.

(This series was originally posted on my Wattpad, so I’m bringing it over here)

pairing: MCU!bucky barnes x MCU!female reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: Y/N was far from any normal girl in Brooklyn during the 1940s. Her physical and mental strength were far from ordinary and her mother and father were nothing short of strange, just like her. Secrets and strange occurrences were all that she had ever known and with the approach of a second global war, it seemed that everything would only become stranger. A powerful organization, a target on the back of a young girl, a serum, and an infinity stone were all that it would take to change everything she knew about her world.

chapter warnings: none

a/n: This fanfic follows the course of the MCU movies (The First Avenger - Thunderbolts). It’s more focused on the story aspect of the MCU and is very much a slow burn type of story with not a lot of focus on smut.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

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You were in a rush to return home, weaving in and out of the crowds with your bag swinging to and fro. Unfortunately, your excitement had been far too much for the poor bag to keep up with and it wrapped around a lamppost, sending its contents falling onto the sidewalks in Brooklyn. Your heart plummeted in fear of losing any of those precious items and without a second to waste, you dropped onto your knees, scooping up the papers with a increased urgency.

When they were all safely tucked back into your bag, you stood and raced back in the direction you had been headed. If only you had turned or at least heard the poorly disguised german accent calling out for you to wait.

Your life had turned into a never-ending series of disappointments, starting with the discovery of your two missing papers along with the lack of further evidence on your parent's odd behavior. In fact, you hadn't heard a single word from them until they returned the very next weekend. When the attack on Pearl Harbor had been announced, your parents were gone more frequently for longer periods of time.

You could only suspect that they had some sort of involvement in the war simply based on the fact that you barely heard them speak of it. That alone was strange considering everyone in the entire country and beyond had been talking about it.

The light from the sun warmed your back as you walked along the dampened sidewalks and by the time you returned to your small Brooklyn apartment, you found a letter shoved in the space between the door and the brick wall, your name displayed on its front. Very slowly, you lowered yourself into a seat at your kitchen table, ripping the seal to discover what content lay inside.

Y/N,

I've been sitting and staring at this blank piece of paper for the past half hour because, truthfully, I have no idea what to say. I know I told you that night of your birthday that I would not let you suffer from your parent's secrets alone, but that may be a promise I will have to postpone. I’ve been drafted for the war and I am called to leave tonight. I don't know when I’ll back, but I will come and find you the second I return to Brooklyn. I'm not being shipped right out to the front lines if you were worried about that (I know you were). I will be trained along with whoever had been drafted at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin, which is not too far from New York. I'll miss you when I'm gone and I'm sure you'll miss having someone to call an idiot. I'll see you soon. Don't forget about your dear old friend Bucky Barnes while he's gone. I know I won't stop thinking about you. Goodbye for now, Y/N/N. 

                                                      - James Buchanan Barnes

Drafted. You knew that he would most definitely be drafted. Almost every single eligible man in New York was leaving and you had no assurances that he would be left behind. That didn't make it any easier, though. No doubt he was gone already and you had no idea when you would see him again. Your heavy heart lifted as you read on, a fluttering warmth filling your chest as you reached the end of the letter.

It was nothing short of friendly, and you figured Bucky had only put so much thought into the letter because he knew it would be a long while until he would see his friends again. Nevertheless, you couldn't help but feel your face heat up at the thought of being on his mind.

Bucky had always been a naturally flirty person, but this was the first time it seemed truly endearing and meaningful, not just a simple jab to see you become embarrassed. Your cheeks puffed up and with a sigh you released the captured air, bringing the note to your chest. I know I won't stop thinking about you. Every time the sentence was repeated in your head, you felt yourself grow warm.

Goodbye for now, Y/N/N. A nickname. A simple one, but seeing it written on that paper in his handwriting had you overcome with a sense of fondness. There was no doubt in your mind that you would miss Bucky. He would fill your thoughts constantly at the worry of anything happening to him, even if it was just training.

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

As you had suspected, you found yourself thinking of Bucky more often than not. Of course, you still had Steve and Louise but even then, there were things you couldn't tell them. Your life was already busy enough as you had to make up for the lost research from those very few pages that went missing. You had collected the information you knew from Marie Curie's discoveries as well as past discoveries of elements from other geniuses prior to her existence.

So many experiments. So many trials just to discover one thing. You only hoped to one day create or discover something as magnificent as them.

Days. Weeks. Months passed by, and still…nothing.

You were drowning in your research. There were so many mysteries in the world and its complexities had you going nearly insane. You scanned through all the previous methods used to discover the known elements in their world and their similarities, but it was far more complicated than you imagined. What little materials you had from your time spent working with your father had already been used during hundreds of trials. Your observations turned into marks of scribbles that lined every inch...every centimeter of your papers.

It screamed insanity and you were sure you would never be able to go back and work through the process you used to isolate the already discovered elements that could be safely found. The lab space gifted to you by your father had been more than helpful, but you only wished you had more.

More experience. More material. More knowledge.

You were no genius and you were well aware of that so it had all begun to seem hopeless. You yanked open your door, set to go out and gather some more materials for your studies, but you were not at all prepared for the person standing on your porch. "You are a difficult person to find, Miss Y/L/N." The thick german accent was all you could focus on and his wild appearance made him seem like something out of a fairytale. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"My apologies. I am Abraham Erskine and I believe you dropped this." You gaze dropped to his hand, eyes widening as he revealed the papers you once thought were lost forever. "How did you find these?" You asked in disbelief, clutching them tightly to you. "That is not important. What is important is that I believe I know something that you may be able to help me with."

"With what?" Abraham Erskine smiled briefly and you watched as his expression became much more somber. "That is not something we should discuss here. Take this, find this building tomorrow morning. A woman will be there and she will ask you 'Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?' and I want you to say 'Yes, but I always carry an umbrella'."

"Wait but-" Your questions were cut off as he lifted his hand, taking a step back from the door. "Do not be late."

"But I don't-'' It was clear that none of your questions would be answered then, and that only made you all the more curious. You had no idea whether or not you could trust the man, but he saw your work, went through the trouble of finding you, which you were still quite unnerved by. Maybe him showing up was the sign you were waiting for all along. The sign that you were meant for something important. Something greater.

So you would go. You would do whatever Abraham Erskine had told you to do and hope that he was a genuine and honest man.

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

You stared up at the building, your smile shrinking as you read over the sign above. "Brooklyn Antiques?" You whispered to yourself, unaware of the set of eyes peering at you from where they stood next to their vehicles. You have undoubtedly been tricked. You thought to yourself, but still, something within you kept you planted there. Something within you had your hand reaching out, fingers curling around the door handle. It was then that an older woman stepped out from behind a curtain, smiling sweetly at you.

Her approachable manner disappeared as she spotted the card in your hand that she knew belonged to the one Abraham Erskine had placed his fate in. "Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?"

So he was telling the truth. You were relieved upon the realization that you may have not been fooled by a deranged old man. "Yes, but I always carry an umbrella." You replied, wondering if you had even gotten the phrase right. That question was answered fairly quickly as the older woman moved towards her counter, reaching underneath it. A small buzz followed the action and she slowly gestured to the curtain she had just walked out from.

Your hands turned clammy as you pried apart the slit in between, coming face to face with a large and archaic bookshelf. You stood there for only a second, flinching as it emitted a click, the bookshelf parting in the manner a set of doors would.

What you found on the other side surprised you beyond belief. An almost industrial setting with men and women dressed in military attire. The door at the far end of the hall was constantly shoved open and closed by people dressed in stark white jackets. A few watched as you passed, and only when you got closer to the door had you noticed two figures standing almost frozen on the other side.

When you were only a few steps away from the door it was pulled open revealing the top of a metal staircase. Below it sat a circular lab space, a number of flashing lights filling your vision. Scientists hustled about the space, conversing in hushed tones. Your eyes scanned the crowds of people and two in particular had you nearly falling face-first over the railing.

At first, they didn’t stand out, but as you took a closer look, you discovered what was either your mother or someone who looked strangely identical to her. Your shoes clanged against the metal steps as you descended and that finally seemed to divert people's attention away from their work. A million questions were flying about the confines of your mind as you turned and found yourself face to face with both your mother and father.

"Y/N." Your mother stated, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Mom? What is this? This is what you do?"

"Not quite. Your father and I work with a classified team, known as the SSR, the Strategic Scientific Reserve. We were created to make this country safe from the organization, Hydra. Before that, we were part of a division of spies that was created after the Great War to keep our nation strong against foreign invaders, and this group was absorbed into the SSR." As confusing as that information was, everything seemed to fall into place.

It explained all the late nights your parents spent out of the house. All the secrets. The phone calls they got any time they were home. Even the weapon.

A man cleared his voice behind your parents before stepping out between them. "Oh, Y/N, this is Howard Stark. We have worked with him for many years. He is the reason that Doctor Abraham Erskine was able to find you." The man nodded once in your direction before you realized what it was your mother said. "Wait, found me?" You said incredulously.

"The papers you dropped. Abraham found those papers and realized you were the missing piece in what he needed to finish his ultimate creation: a serum responsible for enhancing human strength and their abilities." That was why he seemed so eager to find out where you were. Why he seemed in such a rush to get you to come to Brooklyn Antiques...or rather the secret base of the SSR. "So you and Dad have been doing this since I was born? Did you ever plan on telling me?"

"We didn't want you to get involved in this life. It's dangerous and we never wanted you to worry about us while we were gone." Your father had spoken for the first time since you arrived and although you knew he was just trying to make you understand why they never told you anything, it didn't make it any less painful.

"I would've rather been worrying sick about you two rather than be sitting at home thinking you two didn't care about me. Do you know what that was like? Being around my friends who always talked about all the fun they had with their families during the holidays, all the family dinners they shared together. Do you even know how many birthdays of mine you missed?"

"I-'' Your mother attempted to interject, but you were not having any of it. No more excuses. They had their time to talk. "Because I do. Sixteen birthdays. But I wouldn't expect you to remember." Your face heated beyond belief and you were painfully aware of the tears building in your eyes as well as the number of stares that clung to you. None of those details seemed to matter. There was nothing you could focus on beyond your blinding frustration.

You were entirely grateful when Abraham Erskine stepped into view from the other side of the room, meeting your gaze with a small but noticeable smile. "Y/N-"

"Please just leave me alone." You whispered, your voice cracking as you took a step back from your mother's outstretched hand. In an instant you crossed the room, moving to the right of Dr. Erskine, hoping he was unaware of what occurred moments before. "If we could please talk about what exactly you want me to figure out, that would be great." He nodded briefly, pausing to meet the stares of your mother and father before directing you towards the set of double doors he previously passed through.

Next Chapter

[burninblood]

guys, I sense a lot of tension about this whole buckynat situation XD ... there is even some hate going on on "X" saying they should have stayed broken and stuff... and, listen, I understand, this kind of reunion wasn't what we was hoping for after all these years (10 years?!?!) and of course we had better scenarios in our mind and we were hoping for more good character work (or any characters work at all!), and we want to hear Nat's version (eheh) and these writers are, let's say, uhm, not so good...

BUT

these are american superhero comics for you in 2024. No greatly written for most part, action focused all the time, little or not at all character development, aiming to reach big sales or them get cancelled, flowing with the MCU synergy and stuff. And I tell you as someone who has read comics her whole life (and I had a loooong life, ok XDDD): bad moments in comics come and go, and poor characters run through a lot of shitty writing, and this happens all the time.

Are Lanzing and Kelly good writers? No. HELL NO.

Do I think Cold War was the worst thing written in the media in the maybe last 5 years? YES with a cherry on top! 100% YES.

Is Thunderbolts a good mini series? ... Well, not really. Better than SOL and CW, but still, we're not quite there yet. It was basically random, with a stretched plot that I can't even recall, and really not a team book since it doesn't focused on any of its characters for real. 'Cause you know, I said it before: no character work, just action action and more action.

Is Bucky written by L&K good? No. He isn't. But to be honest he wasn't good in a lot of other comics too, sadly. He has been worse, he has been better. He will improve at some point, that's the cycle.

All this said, am I happy they brought buckynat back? YES. I AM SUPER HAPPY 'cause it opens for possibility!!!

If they gain some more audience as a couple there are more opportunities for them to get more exposure, to be feautured into other comics (in the current cap run written by Straczynski for example?) more and better content, not only together but on their own too! I think them both didn't have a good comic since... 2018??? Nat even earlier probalby, but it's important they somehow stay relevant in the stories 'cause this is how this whole circus works (sad): the characters who sell better get more stories, more comics, better comics from better writers (... hopefully!)! It's bad, but that's the comic market guys.

Idk, it just feels so sad to me that we have waited for so long for buckynat reunion and when it happened finally it left us with just a bittersweet aftertaste... I think this is inevitable 'cause we had so many hopes and we pushed it bigger than life into our heads, and this is reality XD...But realistically speaking, I was never expecting their reunion to be that different from what we got in the end.

It's good to be disappointed, it's right, but let's turn this into a good occasion then, let's try to stay positive and maybe try to exorcise the bad in it by taking a creative angle on the matter: let's write meta about Natasha's pov, let's write fics, let's do edits, fanarts, let's discuss it. But wishing it never happened and dragging them badly...

I know we all feel like they deserved better, and I agree, but let's consider this just THE BEGINNING. It's a starting point and we should keep our fingers crossed for something good to come!

Let's not give up!!!

I'm sorry if this is so long and a whole lot of useless blablabla bhubhubhu, but some of the stuff I'm reading around is starting to be really depressing and a bit too negative considergin the whole situation, and it's a shame 'cause I feel like we should be at least a tiny bit happier here around <3 :D

Let me know what you think of all this mess (or not, lmao) if you want! <3

[bluemoonperegrine]

Did they ever give any official meaning to Jack's facial markings beyond representing his heritage? 

(Google searches tend to bring up many adorable puppy pictures, but that's no quite what I'm after 🤣) 

And if not have you ever created your own meanings for them? Perhaps based on Mexican/Transylvanian culture or the arcane? 

(Bonus Wereknight question for the funsies. Do you think he'd incorporate something in to represent the boys if they ever got to the point of being considered family.)

As far as I know Jack's makeup in the special is meant to be a simplified calavera design, which reflects his Mexican heritage. Gael's good with accents, so he could have done a USAmerican one. I'm glad they let him use his accent and made MCU Jack Mexican.

The notion that the makeup is a nod to the Day of the Dead is supported by the Werewolf by Night: The Art of the Special book, which I preordered the second I learned of it. 😂 The book is fantastic. There's so much behind-the-scenes stuff, as well as different designs for the characters, locations, and sets.

In early drafts of the special, Jack ends up in the middle of a bunch of monster hunters by crashing a masquerade ball that Verussa threw. I don't remember if it was a twisted version of a wake for Ulysses or what; I was too busy pouring over the amazing art.

In any case, in several pieces Jack has white face paint with black around his eyes like typical calavera makeup. I presume that when the story changed to swap the masquerade for a much less fancy ceremonial hunt, they nixed the full-face paint.

Here are two screenshots from this video of a dude flipping through the art book.

have you ever created your own meanings for them?

I have! Before I started writing my first WBN fic, which was well before the art book was published, I googled for the meaning of the makeup design. I wondered if there was something in comics canon.

There sort of is. The OG version of comics Jack was captured by the Left Hand Path cult and tattooed as part of a ritual. The cultists wanted to use his blood to become werewolves themselves. I refer to that in my first fic.

Bonus Wereknight question for the funsies. Do you think he'd incorporate something in to represent the boys if they ever got to the point of being considered family.

That is a FANTASTIC idea!

For anyone reading this who's not familiar, I think @windsweptinred is referring to my and @vicarious-rebel's silly/sappy/angsty series Hallmark by Knight. Maybe not, but there's not a lot of Wereknight content out there.

In the HbK universe I can imagine the fam going all out for el Día de los Muertos. Jack would love painting his face, or Marc painting it and Jack painting his.

Although I'm not Mexican, I presume that there's a lot of latitude on the designs you can use, so they'd choose things important to them. Possibilities are (keep in mind that this series is fairly absurd): the moon, the Star of David, the Star Wars Rebel Alliance symbol, the "C" logo for the Chicago Cubs, and, of course, a croissant. 🥐

Thanks so much for the ask! This was fun.

[daresplaining]

what are your thoughts on bullseye? like him as a character? what about the mcu version? i hope you’re having a great day i love reading your content! :)

Thank you! I hope you're having a great day too.

My feelings on Bullseye are extremely story-dependent. He can be very fun or kind of tiresome based entirely on context and how he's being written. He has also suffered a bit from over-use, I think. He's considered these days to be one of the top Daredevil villains, and so he just tends to show up a lot, which can create a sense of fatigue surrounding his character. I don't love him as Guy Who Murders Women in Daredevil Comics. But I do like him as a hyper-competent chaos entity. Bullseye at his core, as a guy who has this very specific skill that he's really, really good at (throwing stuff), and who is perfectly happy spending his life doing exclusively that, is fun. He's unfettered by moral inhibitions, he's just out here having a good time. I love early Bullseye, who went around trying to get hired as an assassin by just murdering people and leaving his business card, and who strapped Matt to a giant crossbow. I also enjoy the pathos and obsession that get tacked onto his character through his ongoing rivalries with Elektra and Daredevil; like I said, it can get repetitive, but it's compelling when done well. I love that his name is Lester. I freaking adore Bullseye: Perfect Game, which is a deeply fun and creative exploration of Bullseye's obsessive personality. And a villain who is just unambiguously bad, who revels in their villainy with an infectious enthusiasm and utter commitment, is a villain I am always going to enjoy on some level. I recently re-read the 2017 Bullseye mini-series written by Ed Brisson, and I think it's a perfect encapsulation of his appeal. Bullseye is the protagonist, and the reader is prompted to root for him because his enemies are even worse than he is. But at the same time, Brisson never, ever lets you forget that Bullseye is also terrible. He maintains his appeal without sanding off any of his edges, and it's fantastic. That's the perfect Bullseye to me.

I thought he was just alright in the MCU (at least, in the Netflix show. I haven't watched the new season, so I don't know if he ended up appearing there as well and can't comment if he did). His fight scenes were very fun, as they should be. But they tried to humanize and soften him up a bit, and I didn't find that particularly interesting; not on principle, because it does work extremely well for some supervillains, but just because it felt wrong for Bullseye. He seemed like a sad knock-off instead of the real thing. Also, they used his Ultimates Universe name instead of Lester, which made me sad because Lester just...I don't know, it just fits him so much better.

Thanks for the question!

[starlight-bread-blog]

Why Lokius Should Have Been Canon

This is a sort of combo of two metas that didn't quite get point my across. Some parts will be copied directly, but there's a lot of original content. I will discuss the ship between Loki and Mobius, their place in the show, and the MCU at large. My focus for this meta won't be parallels or motifs, because these things border on well-written friendships. But there will be some of that.

Romance in the MCU

There are a lot of straight couples in the MCU. (Almost) Every main hero is in some heterosexual relationship, Loki included.

(That's not all, not remotely).

But in the LGBTQ+ department... uh.. I think it was mentioned that Valkyrie had a girlfriend... uh... America Chavez had a pride pin... and Loki:

One line. Queer experiences are never a focal point of a show/movie the same way heterosexual experiences are. And that needs to change.

Romance In the Show

Wrong, toxic, or unsuccessfu romantic love is a recurring theme in the show.

Sylki

Sylki was an icky relationship right off the bat. They are the same person. I can't find the post at the moment, but someone has pointed out in their post that them being the same person is referenced in every episode in season 1 (edit: here it is), which is when the romance took place. This made their romance uncomfortable for many viewers.

(Some consider Sylki a toxic relationship, but for this post, the topic is too large to handle with the nuance I'd like to handle it with).

When he's drunk, Loki compares love to a dagger, stating that it hurts you, but when you try to find strength in it, it's not real.

Which is exactly what happens. Sylvie pushes Loki into a portal and they never get back together.

The Love Triangle

In 02×03, Ravonna Renslayer is infatuated with Victor Timely, but he leaves her behind and betrays her when Miss Minutes told him to. One episode later, we discover that they were indeed an item, and established the TVA together. He Who Remains deleted her memories and they never rekindle their love.

Later in the episode, is the best example of "wrong" romance in the show. Miss Minutes, the AI clock, confesses her love to Viktor Timely. He, obviously, freaks out and shuts her off. Nothing ever comes of this.

Brad and Dox

This one is small, but a big indication to romance being a theme. In 02×01, we're shown this:

The gap in the age of the actors is uncomfortable, and a character in universe has this reaction to it. It is never mentioned again.

So what does all of this leave us with? Not much. None of this properly ties to the finale, or anything really. If I were to write the show I would cut a lot of this out, since it serves no purpose. But it does make you keep romance and its shortcomings in mind. The writers want it to be there, in the back of your head.

Loki and Mobius

Finally! I got to talk about them. The two people in question. First things first, who are they, together? They became really supportive, close friends.

Fans even drew parallels to Chaos & Order, which is a very important theme in Loki. But I'm not here to unpack them. These things don't necessarily make them in love. So what does make them in love? I'll present you my evidence, and you ask yourself,

Would it be valid to suggest romantic implications if a man and a women are:

1) Extremely thouchy with each other.

2) Riding on a tandem bike together.

3) Willing to suffer a fate worst than death for another.

4) Falling on each other after that^

5) Literally the Interrupted Declaration of Love trope. (Ex)

6) Being framed in a circle.

7) Waiting & giving permission to attack.

8) Fixing themselvs before seeing the other.

Of course yes. Maybe you think some of these are a strech, but ultimately, people would point out romantic connotations across the board. And I'm here, pointing them out right now. Some scenes between Loki and Mobius have romantic implications.

Conclusion

Loki is a queer protagonist in the MCU, a universe that lacks representation of queer experiences. His show constantlty reminded us of romance, sometimes for seemigly no reason. In the second season, they wrote him and his best friend with romantic implications. And then, nothing. It should not have been nothing. Lokius should have been canon.

[georgiapeach30513]

RE: Red One.

It’s funny how critics and people online continue to want to keep this film down, but I think it’s continuing to exceed expectations which is a good sign.

I had a feeling for a long while it was going to surprise people, given how many were complaining nonstop about Chris’s involvement.

Also, the discourse about his career choices… 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

It’s one thing if he were to sit there and complain to the media about not being able to find more serious roles or prestige movies to do.

But to my knowledge he’s never done that? I can only think of him saying years ago that his good films he feels nobody watches (true, or at least not ENOUGH people watch) but even then it wasn’t so much a complaint as a response to a question.

It seems like he is having fun and just picking what he wants to do. I’ve never heard him say “I only did this because I couldn’t get that.” He’s thrown out there he did Red One because he’s always wanted a Christmas film and there was a part for someone like him in it. Makes sense to me. And he just did three smaller scale lower profile projects with directors that are still establishing themselves. Without his and Anya’s involvement, don’t know that sacrifice would have been able to get made. I wish critics who aren’t up to date with his career move at least stop talking and wait for developments over a “hot take” for hits.

I saw a ridiculous tweet once again undermining Red One and his choices. Here’s the thing…red one was an orignal IP. It was a new story that wasn’t from an existing franchise, show, book, or sequel. Lots of people worked on that film and Amazon giving it a theatrical release also helps those who worked on the film that aren’t DJ or the rest of the cast. People who are seeing it in theaters are helping to create box office return and if films like this did well and were received well, maybe there would be more studios willing to take a chance on an original take over an existing IP.

Just because it’s a popcorn movie with silliness does not mean it’s trash and only films like Oppenheimer can be considered art.

I really despise that take and how some cinephiles look down on these films yet solely up lift Oscar bait films.

It bothers me immensely as a creative myself because in my opinion, movies are entertainment and they’re supposed to entertain you. If you and others have fun with the content and enjoy, have a good laugh, a smile, a cry, then I think the creators have done their job. Not all films need to be awards worthy, and art is subjective.

Ahh, the discourse on Chris' career is a tale as old as time at this moment. According to some he will never be good enough or rise to his potential. According to some he is a washed up has been, and yet they can't seem to quit him. I think that makes him a bit more powerful than they want him to be. But alas, we're all free to spend our time how we see fit.

It's funny because I don't think some people realize the roles that he was considered for, the roles he turned down, the roles that he was wanted for. Back when Running Man was in talks, he was top of the list as the lead, and we see that he wanted Sacrifice instead. I think that was a better choice, because quite frankly I'm getting fatigued at all the remakes, but some people want to make their career out of remakes. To each their own.

Unfortunately Chris outside of the MCU has never been quite as a box office draw. A lot of his movies, well most, are on a smaller scale. I think people are looking at his last three movies; Ghosted, Pain Hustlers, and Red One, and immediately jumping on a hate bandwagon. Let's break this down, Ghosted was a small movie, and judging by the synopsis I think we got what we were promised. I think that Dex, Chris, and Ana all were making different movies.

Pain Hustlers will mostly be forgotten. It was part of the opiate epidemic movies that became oversaturated. It didn't have any promotion, and compared to the other projects in the opiate crisis genre, it wasn't that great. I still will die on the hill that his performance was solid, and the best in the movie. Emily was oddly terrible.

Red One I think surprised a lot of people. Nobody expected it to be as fun or as good as it ended up being. Due to the strike, Chris didn't get to really film last year, minus the Deadpool movie. Had R1 not be released a year late, he would have only had Deadpool for this year. Starting next year we're going to have another surge of his projects, and they all seem different, so maybe people should just be patient.

The average movie goer wants to be entertained. That's why popcorn flicks make more money than the award movies. now sometimes you can have both. But anyways.

[infiniteeight8]

More soul stone and Tony? :)

I am making up a lot of magic shit here. If any of it is inconsistent with canon (comics or MCU), just consider this an AU. If it’s inconsistent with previous installments of Tony & Soul, please let me know. (I did check, but that’s not foolproof.)

Content warning for past death of a teenager (no details) and discussion of corpses (mild) and ghosts (more extensive).

Edit: Realized I forgot to link the rest of the series. Here it is.

*

“When you said we were going on a field trip,” Tony said, looking around the morgue, “I thought we’d be, I don’t know, learning how cheese is made. Or going to the aquarium.”

“Because those are terribly relevant to soul magic,” Stephen said dryly. He murmured a quiet thanks to the morgue attendant and then they were alone. Turning to the storage drawers, Stephen found the correct one and opened it, pulling the corpse out into view. It was a boy. He couldn’t be more than fifteen.

Tony crossed his arms and focused on Stephen. “Soul was pretty clear that I couldn’t resurrect people.”

Stephen cast him a surprised look. “That’s not what we’re here for,” he said. “Given what you now know about the Mystic Arts and souls, haven’t you wondered why a city the size of New York isn’t full of ghosts?”

“Actually, no,” Tony admitted. He kept his eyes on Stephen. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” Which seemed foolish now, being the bearer of the Soul stone. Damn it. 

Stephen frowned. “My apologies. I really should have given you a more thorough introduction to related magic. It’s not likely to be exactly the same, but at least you’d have context.”

Tony waved off the apology. “It’s fine. Ghosts?”

“Right. Given that roughly 200 people die every day in New York City,” Stephen continued, “we see several new ghosts every week. They don’t accumulate because helping them to move on is one of the duties of the Masters of the Mystic Arts. With Soul’s help, you should be able to do the same.”

Tony took a long look at the boy on the extended slab. “I know I said I was up for something more hands on,” he said, “but this is… He’s just a kid, Stephen.”

Stephen stepped up beside him and laid a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. The touch was warm in the cool morgue air. “I’m sorry,” Stephen said quietly. His regret was cool, almost soothing in a strange way, like a cold compress. “I didn’t think… Between med school and the Mystic Arts, perhaps I’ve grown a bit too comfortable with death. I should have warned you, let you adjust to the idea.”

Tony rubbed at his goatee, eyes still on the boy. “He left a ghost?” Tony could see Strange nod out of the corner of his eye. “Is he… angry?”

“No.” Stephen’s thumb moved, rubbing tiny circles into Tony’s back. “He’s confused. He wasn’t trying to linger, he just missed his chance, so he’s not really connected to the living world, either. He’s not even aware that we’re here. All he needs is for the way to be opened again. He needs our help, Tony. I know it’s not the same as helping the living, but it’s just as important.” When Tony turned to look, Stephen’s gaze was fixed on a point next to the body, but up a little. That had to be where the ghost was, though Tony couldn’t see it. After a moment Stephen turned and met Tony’s gaze. “I can make a portal for you if this is too soon.”

A portal for Tony, but not for Stephen, because he’d be staying to help this kid get to the afterlife. Because someone needed to. Tony set his jaw. “No. I’ll help. Show me how?”

“Ghosts occupy a plane of existence very close to our own, between our reality and the astral plane,” Stephen explained. “I’m not sure about the other planes, but you should be able to see this one via Soul. This of it as…” Stephen cast about for a metaphor for a moment. “You know those prints that appear three dimensional if you refocus your eyes correctly? It’s a little like that, at least for me.”

Tony squints at the spot Stephen had been looking at earlier, but nothing seems different. Help me out here? he asks Soul.

The stone is, but suddenly there’s someone there. Tony was expecting him to be washed out, translucent, but he’s not. He looks exactly like a living person, except that he’s haloed in an orange glow. Tony swallows hard. “I see him.” He’s abruptly grateful for the continuing presence of Stephen’s hand on his back, a warm anchor to reality.

“Good,” Stephen murmurs. “He’s trying to reach for something; can you see it? Or feel it.”

Tony starts to say no, but Soul interrupts: Not with his hands. With his soul.

After a moment, Tony sees it. The orange glow is trailing off in one direction, extending away from the boy. “I see it.”

“You want to give that reaching element more energy,” Stephen says. “Not much; you’re drawing from your own reserves. He only needs enough to feel where he’s meant to go.”

Tony can’t quite make it happen just by focusing. In the end, he raises a hand and points one finger, and a thread of orange spools out of it and towards the boy. Soul cuts the thread before it makes contact. You’re not trying to make a connection, it explains. Just to donate a little energy.

The thread disappears into the boy’s orange aura. For a moment, Tony thinks it didn’t work, but then the boy looks up from his body and turns in the direction that the orange trail is pointing. He takes a hesitant step, then another. On the third, he vanished, blinking out as if he was never there at all. Tony lets out a breath.

“Well done,” Stephen says. With a final press of his hand, he steps away from Tony and carefully slides the drawer closed, sealing the boy’s body away again.

“I was kind of expecting a white light,” Tony admits.

Stephen smiles, just a little. “So did I, the first time. But in reality, we’d have to get a lot closer to death to see any representation of the other side, and the Masters still aren’t sure if the images we see when we make that approach are cultural, physiological, or definitive.”

Tony snorts. “Even the Mystics don’t know everything, huh?”

“Not even close.” Stephen casts a portal for them and together they step into the Sanctum.

Tony waits until the chill of the morgue has entirely dissipated and Stephen is pouring tea for them before voicing the thought that’s on his mind. “Soul warned me not to make a connection when I gave the boy some extra oomph.”

Stephen turns an interested look on Tony. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Which begs the question: what could I do with a connection?”

Stephen sets the teapot down with an uneven clink. “I don’t know.”

Tony blows out a breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Soul’s silence is less than comforting.

[tarithenurse]

Inhuman

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Loki x fem!reader, eventually Stucky, more (some canon, some not). Word count: 3210. Contents: Tension, smut, awkwardness. A/N: Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag.

Chapter 55

... Loki’s PoV ...

Thor had pulled [Y/N] aside and passed something to her…and of course Loki had been curious to know what it was. Naturally, she hadn’t divulged what it had been and now she lies next to him, still sleeping as the early morning light filters through the windows. It would be so easy to tiptoe to the table where her few belongings were lying, and find out. The recognition that it would be wrong of him to do has him out of bed and looking at the items. More letters.

‘[Y/N]. Short message from Steve: he is eternally grateful that you have saved his life. He insists that you should be here with us. I wish that was possible but I feel that you are safer in new Asgard. I have to stand by my decision (for all our sakes), but if there ever is anything you need, aside from what our official roles dictate, then don’t hesitate to ask. Sincerely, Bucky.’

Loki has to fight the urge to tear the letter apart, instead he lets it fall onto the cold surface of the table.

“Happy now?” The voice of his guest is flat. He had not realized, that she had woken up. “The other letter is from my family…want me to translate it for you?”

She is mocking him, a tactic that he himself has used often when distraught. “No.”

He returns and sits on the bed, looking at her. The hair is messy and the skin all along the left side is marred by red stripes from the sheet and pillow.

“You won’t even pretend to be sorry you snooped?” She is wearing the same yellow blouse, that she had borrowed the night before.

Although he does not understand the last word, he still understands the meaning of her question. “No.”

“So if you aren’t happy with what you read, and you don’t want to apologize…at least have the decency to explain what you had expected to find.” [Y/N] is glaring at him angrily, a reminder that she can inflict more damage than the slender figure warns.

“I expected him to change his mind…to take you back.” Pulling his legs under him, Loki gains time to gauge his own feelings. “He should not have abandoned you…and you have been saving yourself for him…have you not?”

Her temper flaring, she sits up completely, wagging a finger at him as if he was a little boy. “Just because I say no, doesn’t mean that I’m saving myself for someone. I’m my own. Always have been and always will be.”

Leaning in closer, Loki can smell the heavy sweet scent of sleep, mixed with the lighter notes she always carry with her. “You…did not…say…no…” The eyes fly open as she realizes what he is referring to. “You were too busy considering what people would expect of you…but you do not owe them anything.” He has to struggle to keep his voice calm and his hands are balling great tufts of fur.

“Still you spend a lot of effort to convince me to give myself to you.” She sounds unsure. Maybe of the situation?

“I can only hope to borrow you. You are hopelessly committed to throw yourself into the gaping mouth of death. Wasting your life before you have tasted the best of what it has to offer.”

Her chest is heaving under the thin fabric, making him think of the intimate moment on the hayloft, and just as the memories stir in his mind, other parts of him stir too.

Reaching out, her wraps an arm around her waist and drags her onto his lap, ignoring how the furs tangle awkwardly. Any protests she might have yelled are prevented as his mouth finds her big, soft lips that part under the pressure from his, and he is preparing himself for the coming pain when her hands fly towards him…but instead of fighting to stop him, she pulls him closer. [Y/N]’s fingers wrap tightly around his shoulder and upper arm as her tongue tangles with his.

Loki accepts the invitation and the one hand he can free without dropping her begins to explore the curve of her hip and side through the linen. In a long stroke, it finds its way to the back of her head where he grabs a handful of wild curls, tugging gently to make her bare the tender neck that he lavishes with kisses and nibbles before releasing her. With the nails, he traces her spine until it disappears between her rounded buttocks. Choosing one, Loki lets his palm slide over it, having to divert to the thigh where goosebumps ripple beneath his fingers. Turning back, he feels his way up under the shirt, across her strong belly, stopping only as he reaches the admirable breasts.

His fingers linger just beneath the soft underside, waiting as he asks softly: “Do you want me to continue?”

She nods and he changes tactics. In a few swift moves, the shirt is pulled off of her and he has laid her down once more. Leaning down over her, he traces her jawline and neck (pausing only to inhale deeply) while his hands cover every inch of her that is within reach.

She is stretching down to cup the throbbing extension of his loins; searching, finding and circling the sensitive end with a thumb. She works methodically and expertly, forcing him to pull away so the only connection is her hand on his forearm.

“Eager, little minx?” Untying the breeches, he reaches in to straighten his member which eases the strain.

A small jolt sears up his arm. “Not minx. You don’t get to call me that.”

[Y/N] rare smile is devilish, mirroring the eagerness inside of him. A craving that has been strengthened by her display of power.

“Then what?” He surges towards her, seeking out a pointy nipple with his tongue and teeth. “Woman?” A crackling stab to his shoulder tells him that wasn’t right either. “Queen, then.” He lets a hand slide over the hipbone, before coming to a rest with her mound in his palm. Oh? But a new burst traces his spine in unison with her light fingertips, making him stretch and his groin rubs against her thigh. As he begins to massage her mound slowly, her fingers slip between his legs, cradling his sack. I have to get it right now, then. Stretching up, he find her earlobe with his teeth, biting softly before whispering in her ear: “My lady.”

It’s not an electric pain that makes him gasp, but her fingers closing around the root of his cock and sliding to the tip before reversing. Twisting the hand that is working between her thighs, he circles the tender button with a thumb before he slips a few fingers between the folds. Wet and warm. Her hand stops for a second while she shivers and he knows what it means.

Searching, probing, he pushes into the tight, slippery cavity, making her suck in air hard. He clamps his free hand over her mouth and tells her to be silent. She nods, and he could drown in her golden eyes, when she silently beckons him to continue.

When Loki leans in, the strong woman beneath him moves quickly, and suddenly he finds himself looking up at her. She’s straddled across his thighs, cock resting against her womb, and her long soft curls are falling over her breasts and back. Reaching up, Loki grabs her waist to lift her, and when he lowers her again, [Y/N] forces her hips forward so she can slide herself down over his painfully expectant member.

They move carefully at first and her womanhood is clenching tight around him. Each time he tries to quicken the pace, she sends a tiny jolts from her fingers into his arms which she is holding on to tightly.

“Eager, little incubus?” she smiles, as she rides him slowly.

Her self-assurance fuels him, and he pushes up with a snarl, causing [Y/N] to lose balance, and he kneels by her, dragging her roughly towards him. As if reading his mind, she wraps her long legs around his neck, ensuring perfect passage to her core and he penetrates repeatedly, and though he holds back it is still hard and deep even as she shudders and arches in ecstasy. Her warm flesh is squeezing tight, and Loki feels it ripple and clench in waves, willing him to join her. Biting back a roar, he jerks by the release before falling. Her strong legs shift to wrap around his hips and the motion unleashes a new surge in both of them, and he has to bite down on her shoulder to stay silent. Holding on to each other, they lie panting, clinging on for dear life as the lust ebbs out.

… Reader’s PoV ...

Detangling yourself, you stagger to the bathroom, leaving the spent shape of the Asgardian behind. Moving in a haze, you perform the common tasks as you wait for the tub to fill, and it’s only as the water envelops you that realization hits.

Shit! Scrubbing yourself angrily, you repeat the word several times. You owe it to no one but yourself to have stayed away from Loki, but now that you have given in you fear that he will use it against you. It doesn’t matter…it was worth it. As long as he doesn’t let anyone know. You wouldn’t be able to live that down. But then again, you might not have to if everything goes as you expect it will.

The circumstances of your life come crashing and you slide underneath the surface of the water. Looking up through the shimmering veil, you see a slender figure appear and moments later your host (the one-night stand) lowers himself into the bubble of privacy you thought you had claimed.

Resurfacing, you study him, a gesture that is reciprocated.

“So what now?” you ask.

“That is your decision. I shall honour your wishes.” His voice is cool silver that calms you down.

“Not a word to anyone.” A slap would have had the same effect on him and you feel guilty. “I have no regrets, but I need things to stay as simple as possible.”

When he looks up, the red colour is already draining from his irises. “No regrets?”

“Maybe that I didn’t give in earlier.” Maybe there is still time for more distractions…

The thought bothers you as much as it excites. To hide the feelings, you get out of the bath and dry yourself, knowing full well that he is studying your every move.

“So what now?” Loki echoes your own words from before.

“I need to see my family face to face.”

“I cannot grant you passage out of Asgard.” He is studying the long fingers that worked you so adeptly not long ago. “But Thor can…I will take you to him.”

…

You broke the fast in the room from the night before. People came and went, but Thor wasn’t among them. Lady Sif explained that he had left to survey another possible option but is expected to return before noon and the day felt long as you had to wait.

Now you are standing at the lowest step by the throne, explaining what you wish to do. “I know it’s much to ask for and I recognize that the purpose of keeping me here is that I can’t fall in the wrong hands or in any way attract danger to innocent people.”

The king is staring at you. He no longer has only one eye but two that don’t look alike as one of them is mechanical – a gift from Rocket. “Still you insist that you have to see your family…”

“Yes, they are frightened and they blame the wrong people for what is happening…much of which they don’t even understand.”

“What you are trying to say…you wish to bid them farewell and ensure they don’t hate you or anyone for your death if the worst should happen.” Loki says and you can only nod in response.

“I cannot grant you more than an hour by their side. Also you will not be arriving by their doorstep, so you will need to make haste to get there and back again.” You nod again at Thor’s words, nervous because you don’t know if it will be enough. “We have build a weak likeness of the Bifrost, it does not grant passage far, nor for many people. Each time it has been used, it must regenerate it’s power. Now go to Heimdall and wait for further instructions.”

Bowing, a gesture that is odd to use for him, you do as the king says. Hurrying after Loki you leave the room and follow him along several corridors and along paths outdoors until you reach a rounded building.

Heimdall, the tall man with golden eyes, is waiting for you, his hands resting on the hilt of a sword that’s nearly as long as you.

“The King will be with us shortly.” Looking down at you, he narrows his eyes and you have a distinct feeling that he could make you burst into flame if he stared too long. “Your youngest sister is also at your parents’ lodging.”

You are about to thank him when the sound of hooves distract you.

Thor is coming towards you, riding on a horse that is running faster than freight train and before you have realized why, the king has already dismounted. I thought it would have perished when the original Asgard was destroyed?

“Sleipnir. Carry her safely and obey her,” he murmurs into the horse’s ear. Then the man turns to you and hands you the reins. “He won’t let you fall.”

A gesture from Loki indicates that you have to mount the giant steed. I can barely look over the back of it! Placing a food in the stirrup, you hoist yourself up and swing the right leg across the broad back. Suddenly, you have to look down on the three Asgardians and you are grateful the horse is so wide and solid. The creature steps impatiently as it feels your weight settle into the embossed leather saddle.

“Over there.” Heimdall points towards a plateau.

You have never learned how to ride but Sleipnir knows what to do when you prod it gently with the heels. As you peer back at Loki, he smiles secretively at you before the torrent of light and colour separates you from the men with a sickening feeling in the guts.

… Loki’s PoV ...

She had returned, silent. Too silent. He had waited for her at the stables where he could be unbothered while she was gone and he knew Sleipner would bring her upon return. There, she joined him on the hayloft and had allowed herself to be cradled by him, he just held her as her body shook.

Eventually, the tears stop and [Y/N]’s breathing grows calmer. What colour are your eyes now? Tilting her head up, he cups her cheek in his hands and wipes away the wet streaks of the tears…but her eyes are closed, so he can’t see more than the puffy skin.

“Why did you have to go, my lady?” he sighs. “You knew it would only break your heart.”

“If I didn’t, then it would break theirs.” Breathing to collect herself, she looks up at Loki with nearly black eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Bending, he kisses her softly, tasting the salt on her cheek. Then he helps her to her feet. “The…Guardians are on their way back.”

When they pass Sleipnir’s box on the way out, she makes a detour to pat the horse’s neck and whisper something against his muzzle.

Outside the sun is shining, glittering in the frost that is covering every surface… the northern hemisphere of Midgard is graced by winter’s hold. Before her visit to the family, they had left without finding her a cape or anything, but she seems not to notice the sting of the frigid wind as they walk the short way back inside the main building.

…

The woman known as Gamora has placed a triangular device on the table and its beams of light form the image of a planetary system that Loki recognizes to be the one of Sol. Zooming in on a planet further out than Midgard, she’s pointing out a moon.

“We had to scrap the idea of Pluto. But looking closer to Terra we found this planet where the second moon here is perfect…it even has an atmosphere despite it’s size.”

“That’s…one of Uranus’ moons?” [Y/N] asks disbelievingly.

“That’s what you call it?” The talking animal has an ability to sound condescending regardless of the actual words. “What a dumbass name.”

He’s hushed by the Flora Colossus, an ancient species that Loki has only read about. Now he’s met one and attempted to communicate with it…a task that’s surprisingly troublesome for the Midgardian as the being seems to only know three words: I, am, and Groot. Exclusively in that order.

“Fine. We must find a way to transport everyone there,” Thor concedes. “Yet, we must furthermore find a manner of luring the Mad Titan to this desolate location.” He prods at the celestial body, and his maneuver displaces the image in a spinning blur until Gamora stops it by turning the device off.

Fiddling with an object, Peter Quill looks over at the Asgardians. “We might have a plan.”

“I am Groot.”

“No. It’s more than 12 percent this time, Groot.” The demi-Midgardian refocuses with a sigh. “On the way from there, we spotted a small vessel. It’s the type that the Chitauri has let Thanos use to move spies around. The bearing is aimed at Terra.”

Nebula is nodding. “We can capture it and use the equipment and intel from the crew to send fa-Thanos a message.”

Loki picks up on the interrupted word immediately. Father. Old habits die hard. “And you fool yourself into believing that he would simply accept the invitation and make an appearance?”

“Wasn’t the plan that she’d be bait?” Rocket points at [Y/N].

Gamora looks down at the creature. “He might suspect a trap…and he’d be right.”

“Does he understand the sentiment of revenge?” Despite the flecks of orange in [Y/N]’s eyes, she is still calm as she looks to the two odd sisters.

The blue woman narrows her eyes. “Yes. It is one of the few emotions he accepts.” She straightens up.

“Then all I have to do is make him believe that I want revenge on my team.” Thor shuffles awkwardly and even the new guests, who knows little of the details pertaining to the aftermath of the battle, look at each other with unease at the Inhuman’s words. “If I can play on that then he might agree to meet me…but we have to make it look real.”

“I can roll with that. We get the plane, store it at the Compound-place…then you can ‘sneak’ in to broadcast a signal.” Rocket has a natural flair for scheming that Loki secretly admires. “We make sure everyone’s in place before you head there, Thanos comes afterwards and BAM! Dead dude!”

[thorchickmotorchick]

Hello, today's topic is about the Deadpool manga. This universe is not a comic book or MCU universe. But that doesn't mean we can't be content with Thor/Loki content here.

It's about... Loki's lack of attention. (In future posts I will discuss Loki being jealous of Thor over Sif in the comics.)

A lot of pictures, isn't it? Loki has arrived to destroy Japan. Why? Because he hates it. But for what?.. Continue reading the pictures.

Loki was really angry that Thor simply didn't pay attention to him right away. Loki really gets offended by such a small thing... He wants all his attention. His logic "Look only at me, no one else or anything else!" literally like that.

He's such a needy kid sometimes...

Deadpool was right, it sounds like fan fiction. Just Thor... God, he's so sweet to Loki! He doesn't even understand why Loki is angry. He simply invited him to spend time together, but was rejected and did not even understand it. Loki is quite cruel in this manga, but Thor doesn't seem to understand this. Loki tried to destroy an entire country, who knows what he did before that? (Within this universe, of course.) Considering his actions, it is surprising that Thor is still nice and kind to him. Oh, I love Thor.

It’s funny for me to see such a violent reaction, shock and slight anxiety on Loki’s face when Thor simply didn’t notice him one time.

Loki is literally ready to destroy everything that distracts Thor from him.

Manga: "Deadpool: Samurai. Manga."

P.S. I discuss everything I like with them. I’m glad that there are those who read these posts; some information is so necessary, but not widely distributed. Those who have not read my first post, I ask that you read it. (2 pics were added to the post.) Because the topic concerns films, and the information is not known to everyone. By the way, I will be writing posts with information exclusively for Thorki fans. Those who are not interested will not see this.🤫😉

Important note: I am using a translator, I am not American. And I don’t care how you perceive it, romantically or brotherly.

Next topic: Again about the Dark Wold. Another look at some moments.

[be-compromised]

Mini Promptathon: 2012 Re-edition!

What is this? It’s like the big summer promptathon, only a shorter version - a fun, no-pressure event where you can post zero to as many prompts as you like, zero to as many fills as you like, and join in the squee or just quietly enjoy the fun.

It's taking place here on dreamwidth. You don't need a dreamwidth account (or to be part of our community) to play - just please include an online handle of some kind in anon comments so we know who you are and can credit you for your prompts and fills!

We’re a Clintasha (Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff) community that welcomes ALL THINGS MARVEL. We’d like Clint and/or Natasha to show up in prompt fills somewhere, but what that means is up to you - individually or as friends, lovers, spouses, partners, gen fic, ANYTHING. Yes, that means we also welcome other characters and pairings (and threesomes or moresomes.)

This year’s, by discord vote, the theme is 2012 Re-edition! To set the scene: the year is 2012. Avengers has recently been released, ending MCU Phase One (Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, Iron Man 2, Thor, Captain America: The First Avenger). Those of us who didn’t get the shawarma after credits scene in our countries are frantically searching for it online. We can quote the Clintasha scenes off by heart. Fandom is going mad for the Avengers living in the Tower together or going on road trips. And if you want more marvel characters? Well, that's what comics are for. Helped by Matt Fraction and David Aja, who have just started their Hawkeye comic (issues 1-6 were released in 2012). Outside of Marvel, fuel is added to the fandom with the release of The Bourne Legacy and a Jeremy Renner photoshoot for Empire involving ropes. (If you want a blast from the past or prompt ideas: original 2012 promptathon post with masterlist links and associated posts.)

TIMELINE:

NOW: the clock has been wound back to 2012, prompting has begun! 12 February: open for fills! (You can also keep prompthing.) MIDIGHT 12 March: promptathon ends, both fills and prompts, at midnight whatever your timezone. (A masterlist of fills will be posted after.)

If you too would like to party like it’s 2012, please read on for how to leave prompts and fills, and a few rules to make sure everyone has a fun time.

LEAVING PROMPTS

Please post each prompt in a separate comment on the dreamdwidth post.

Prompts can be anything – simple or elaborate, words or pictures, songs or poems, lyrics or phrases, anything that could inspire a fanwork. Use your imagination. Go wild! You can also re-use prompts from previous events, whether they were filled or not.  

You can leave as many prompts as you want. We’re serious. Keep coming back. We want as many prompts as we can possibly get.

In keeping with the theme, aim to prompt like it’s 2012. As in as if nothing MCU or Marvel etc that was created after 2012 exists. (No harm, no foul for any mistakes! Any prompts and fills that contain content post-2012 just means you’ve created an alternate timeline.)

SUBMITTING FILLS

Respond by commenting in a reply to the prompt that you are filling.

The subject line of your comment should be: FILL: title, rating.

The content of your comment should start with: > Title > Rating (ie film ratings or AO3 style ratings) > Any warnings OR you can say ‘choose not to warn’ (think about the AO3 warnings or take a look at our comm guidance if you’re stuck)

You can then post your entire fanwork in the comment if it’s short enough OR you can post your fanwork anywhere else on the internet and post a link to it in your comment.

Following these guidelines 1) makes it easier for people to find your fills during the event as a one-stop shop, and know what they’re clicking on and 2) makes it a LOT easier for your mods to create a masterlist at the end, without missing any of your fills. Thank you!

Consider including a teaser to catch people’s attention! If you’re posting on AO3, we have a ‘Community: be_compromised’ tag. If you’re posting on tumblr, let us know and we’ll reblog on the be_compromised tumblr. We want people to be able to find and appreciate your fills <3

There’s no length requirement on fanworks submitted. You can create drabbles or epics, vids, art, fanmixes, anything at all; it’s just all about getting creative! Fills do not have to be complete or completed during the promptathon. You can fill as many prompts as you want, and prompts can be filled multiple times by whoever wants to fill them. Zero pressure; all fun.

In keeping with the theme, aim to fill prompt like it’s 2012. As in as if nothing MCU or Marvel etc that was created after 2012 exists. (No harm, no foul for any mistakes! Any prompts and fills that contain content post-2012 just means you’ve created an alternate timeline.)

SQUEE

We have a generic thread for comments, questions, and chat as the first comment thread on the dreamwidth post. We welcome chatting and cheerleading in replies to prompts and fills. (This is where posting each prompt separately and labelling the subject line of fills helps to keep things organised.) We also have a be_compromised discord server for all kinds of discussion if you prefer a chatroom-style space. (Although as above, all prompts and fills will be in this post as a one-stop shop.)

Commenting, cheerleading, and enthusiasm is a huge part of fandom and you are very welcome to join in! Yes, even if you don’t post any prompts or fills.

GENERAL RULES

Our Community Rules apply to this event. To summarise: > No character or ship bashing. This is a positive fandom space. > No plagiarism or use of AI.  > Please no RPF (Real Person Fanfiction) or any gossip/speculation about actors’ off-screen non-work lives, as the primary focus of this community is fictional characters. > Please including a rating for fanworks and a warning OR choose not to warn. > Be kind and have fun!

If you have any questions about anything please feel free to ask! The easiest way is to use the ‘Questions / Comments / Squee’ thread, which is in the first comment to this post, or ask on the Discord server. Your mods are @inkvoices, @cloud--atlas aka franztastisch, and @quidnunc-life aka gsparkle.

Welcome back to 2012. We’re bringing the party to you!

[slxwtxwn]

INTRODUCTION POST!!

I created this account to have a place where I can post and share whatever I want without caring about who sees what and that's what I'll keep doing, sharing whatever crosses my mind so don't expect much from here

but I also really love this place so I might change my view on what to do lol

time for the introduction!

~ Leonardo🇮🇹

~ 18 y/o⭐

[This means I'm a legal adult in Italy. (I can drink, vote, drive...)]

[I don't care who interacts with my content - since Idek if I'll post nsfw or not - as long as you know what you're doing (IF I'll post nsfw, it will be flagged appropriately)]

~ he/they🏳️‍⚧️

~I usually say I'm gay (mlm) as I'm mostly attracted to men but there is that 1% of women that's just DAMN or idk I think that if I happen to like you and you're not a man it's not a deal breaker for me🏳️‍🌈

~actor and artist🎭🎨

{random facts that no one cares for:

my favorite color is purple

LEFT WING! 🇵🇸✊🏻 (fascists dni)

I'm in my last year of highschool

I speak 🇮🇹 (native) 🇬🇧 (Cambridge C1) 🇫🇷 (DALF C1) + my dialect if that counts

unfortunately I'm pre-T (f u mom)

I love cooking 🍳

I actually post from tree branches (Barone Rampante reference)

oh yes I love Italian literature

I play DND

I II II L

Fandoms!

I don't really consider myself as an active part of any fandom but yeah

(no particular order, you might find the same thing twice in different categories sorry)

FNaF 🐻🐰🐥🦊

PJO 🌊+ HOO⚡ + MCGA 🗡️ + TOA ☀️ + TSATS 🖤💛 (also big greek mythology nerd)

HP 🐺🐶🦌🐀 🧑🏻‍🎤 (hate JKR)

Gravity Falls ⚠️

Duck Tales 🦆 (and Disney in general)

Scott Pilgrim (comics, movie and series) 🎸🛼

Haikyuu! 🏐

Sk8 ♾️

Wonder Egg Priority 🥚

Death Note📓🍎

(other anime/manga series might be less relevant)

Mouthwashing 🚀

Brawl Stars ⭐🌵 (even some eSports teams)

Squid Game🦑

Sherlock (BBC series and og books)🔍

TØP lore (not an active theorist) 🥁🎸

Osora, Maho shonen and a LOT of mlm webtoons💜

MCU and SPIDERMAN (heavy on spiderman, I AM SPIDERMAN) 🕸️

Heathers ❤️💛💚💙🖤

Hamilton ⭐🗽

Ride the Cyclone 🎢

other musicals

Danganronpa (3 main games)

Music taste🎶

Twenty Øne Pilots |-/

Dominic Fike ☀️

David Bowie 🧑🏻‍🎤

TV girl 🩷💙

Gorillaz 🦍

Arctic Monkeys 🐒❄️

Tyler, the Creator 🌻

Mitski🦪

MSI (music, not artist)

Sir Mix-a-lot

ICP 🪓🤡

italian indie music (colapesce, lucio corsi, calcutta...)

troye sivan🔥

charli xcx🍏

playlist for more

Movies/series/books that are particularly important for me🎬📚

Dead Poets Society 🎭📜

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower 🚗♾️

Donnie Darko (also director's cut) 🐰💀

I Saw The Tv Glow📺✨

Scott Pilgrim vs the world + Scott Pilgrim takes off 🎸

Squid Game🦑

Euphoria 💊

BBC Sherlock 🔍

Stranger Things 📼

Poirot movies directed by Branagh 🔍

ALL THE SPIDERMAN MOVIES🕸️🕷️

+mcu

EEAAO 🥯

big fan of horror movies in general 🤡🔪

currently reading The Secret History (and with currently I mean after my graduation)

big fan of Italian literature (Dante in particular but also Foscolo, Leopardi, Svevo...)

also English and French literature (Plath, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Dickinson, Camus, Shakespeare, Ionesco, Beckett...)

Characters I'd give my life for 💕

Michael Afton (literal roman empire)

Jason Grace (literal ROMAN empire)

Leo Valdez (me fr)

Hearthstone from MCGA

everyone else from the riordanverse holds a place in my heart too I love them all so much

Remus Lupin (my og fictional crush but I also really relate to him)

Todd Ingram (especially SPTO bisexual version)

Chester (yes, from brawl stars. sorry I love him too much he's so silly)

Sugawara (my babyyyy) (also relate to him)

lowk everyone from haikyuu is my baby but sugawara>>

Reki Kyan (me fr)

I'm literally Spiderman

I'm literally Wallace Wells

Larry and Lawrie from bs sorry they're too lovely

Squeak my bby my main

the whole cinema trio from Brawl means so much to me

Daisuke (MW) (he's my baby but also lowk like me)

Curly (MW) (feral abt him ngl)

Huey, Luey and Duey (I'm Huey)

oh I'm so Dipper Pines (and lowk also mabel)

Ships that are REALLY important to me

VALGRACE!!!!!!!

percabeth

fangster

clancybearer

todd x wallace

thangyu

solangelo

johnlock

mischa x noel

anderperry

byler

bokuaka

that's lowkey it I'm not that interested in shipping anymore

I think that was it thank you so much <3

[castlebyersafterdark]

thought I'd weigh in about nerd culture becoming more mainstream...

(this post so vinny can keep track!) -> https://www.tumblr.com/castlebyersafterdark/777962690581757952/the-duffers-knew-that-people-who-werent-nerds?source=share

i think the majority of people who like this stuff have pulled it into their normie sphere, rather than leant into the lore. what makes a nerd a nerd? is it the content you like itself, or the way you engage with it? i'd argue the latter.

nerds are teased because they're passionate about something, doesnt matter what it is. sci fi and fantasy i think is a poster child of nerdery mainly because it involves escapism and a detachment from reality, which is frequently considered childish, as if you're not facing your responsibilities and running away from problems. this is compared to something 'tough' like sports (but even then, it's only a few certain sports considered macho! think how nerdy something like luge or curling is! and anyway, big sports like soccer and football are full of grown ass men rolling around in the grass in pain at any given opportunity lmao.)

inner child pop psychology became mainstream in the 80s and 90s and people embraced a simpler nostalgic ideal. you see it in the 1950s-inspired teen movies that were made in the 80s (Grease, American Graffiti, even some John Hughes), so I think Hollywood sort of twisted this nerdy content to make it mainstream palatable, for lots of reasons...

i mean, if you think of comic books, originally they were aimed at like 12 year old boys in the 60s or something. its hardly content for adults, and it was made darker into the 2000s. Remember how fresh the dark knight was when it came out? But at its core, it's still IP originally created for kids.

And there's a noticeable infantilisation of art and media for adults today. I whinge about this a lot because it connects to spicy byler and the dearth of erotic cinema since the 90s, which leads into puritanism and all the nonsense we have to deal with here. There's actually interesting debate on this topic in academic circles, because in history, infantilisation of the public has often preceded fascism - basically, get grown ass people to have more and more childish interests and desires, and eventually they start to believe in their own powerlessness, where they wait for someone else to come and be an adult, to save them or take control. an obsession with superhero movies sounds pretty familiar to that on a cultural level, don't you think?

so maybe the MCU -> trump/putin pipeline is real lmao.

when i think of the things and genres of film/books/music/art i love, it ranges to so many types that I only just felt like it made sense as an adult. as a teen, i couldnt find a place anywhere cos i liked a mix of everything. I love lotr, i could probs talk about it for hours as a cinematic score / filmmaking nerd, but I'm definitely not someone who would ever dress up as an elf. so where do i fit? what kind of nerd am i, if at all?

This is the big question I posed when thinking about this topic, and here's a worthy answer: "what makes a nerd a nerd? is it the content you like itself, or the way you engage with it? i'd argue the latter. nerds are teased because they're passionate about something, doesnt matter what it is."

So many good points here. In particular -the infantilisation of art and media for adults. Huge example, important subject. It's the dumbing down of everything, it's catering to the lowest common viewpoint. It's not trusting an audience to formulate their own emotion or regulate an emotional response. See, not letting anything be sincere. Isn't that something we talk about often around here - sincerity. That's something pretty relevant to nerd culture. Sure, some may be overly passionate, too dedicated, obsessive, etc. about their interests - but are these such huge crimes? The love of something is sincere, unashamed.

Back to the other root issues with so much media. It's not letting the story be a story and hoping it resonates with someone. Anyone. To entertain, yes, but to say something. When art tries to cater to everyone - it loses itself. There are times and places for that sort of thing, not everything needs to be deeply deeply meaningful - but when too much of everything is catered to this mindset, what's left?

See one big example that might be hard to stomach - "basically, get grown ass people to have more and more childish interests and desires, and eventually they start to believe in their own powerlessness, where they wait for someone else to come and be an adult, to save them or take control." You know what comes to mind? Disney adults. I'm talking those conservative-aligned vlogger style obsessives who worship the house of mouse and build entire identities around The Brand. To the untrained eye - some might lump them in with nerd culture. And these people would be wrong. It's the idealization of childhood and fear of growing up and pledging yourself to corporation in a way that happiness is a commodity and commercial and it's as insincere as an obsession can get. I'm not lumping in every Disney fan and theme park lover - no, don't be stubborn. I like a lot of Disney-made things myself. You know what I mean by this. And it's part of what our society is pushing, see points in this ask.

Anyway - I think the main thing with "nerd culture" is... what does it mean to you? It's such a silly word and we don't really need to categorize ourselves so much. Humans in present day society are obsessed with boxing ourselves in and creating little groups and names for things that fit us and we can list as easily recognizable attributes for out identities. Some - important, useful, just for navigating the world. Other - completely arbitrary. Why do I care to call myself a nerd? Because despite wherever I've been in life, my personal passion and way I approach my personal interests have felt different from my peers and friends in a way that did feel othering. I'm the type of nerd who has always used my interests as escapism and I'm ok with that, and with the term as identifier. Depends on what an individual feels is right, though of course, it's a much different conversation when with ill intent someone calls you a "fucking nerd" - but that's the thing with adjectives and human identifiers alike: anything personal can be turned into an insult.