#can you imagine the Hulk putting up with an office job?

[daydreamerdrew]

The Hulk! (1978) #26

[quietwings-fics]

Last Call

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Ship: Gen Additional Tags: Horror, Canonical Character Death, Suspense, Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Pre-Canon, POV Phone Guy (Five Nights at Freddy's), Introspection, Possessed Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's) Wordcount: 1392 Summary:

He's going to die here. the last night of the man over the phone

He’s going to die here.

That’s all company loyalty was ever going to get him in the end. Back pain from the cheap office chair. A dozen disrupted friendships from his messed up sleep schedule. His doctor pulling him aside to say he should take it easy, he was putting too much strain on his heart, and with his family history… But he never did put in his two weeks notice or apply for another job. Retirement was out of the question. Same old, same old. At least he understood this place.

He checks his watch, not for the first time this hour.

He misses the dayshift. He got a pat on the shoulder from one of the founders of this place back in the day for hard work. (Which one? He can’t remember.) Relished it for a week. Put on his security badge and stomped around the place like he had anything more important under his jurisdiction than calling the janitors when a kid puked.

God, he was barely more than a kid himself. He couldn’t have known. No one imagined- It wasn’t- That sort of thing just didn’t happen in places like this.

But he was on duty. 

That’s probably why they come after him. Watching him walk in day after day, safe amid the daytime crowds he was meant to be protecting while those plastic eyes clicked and rotated to follow him, and waiting like… Not predators. Predators had purpose. Predators were hungry. These things- He has heard enough echoed sobbing down the halls. These were children, and they torment with inherited, imaginative cruelty. They make messes that management blames him for, broken furniture, destroyed decorations. They reek, those stink bomb felt corpses. They’re masters of persistence, scraping and banging and wailing at the doors night after night, hour after hour.

It’s a game. Games have rules. Rules can be learned.

He was always pretty good at hide and seek. He wins now by staying in his office, steel locked down between him and the things. He’s seen the dents they make. He put his hand in the middle of a big one, found it swallowed up by metal.

He survived.

He looks at his watch. He’s surviving.

He’s still going to die here, but he’s earned the right to be a sore loser.

There’s one outside his office window. On the right. He doesn’t turn on the lights. He can’t afford to.

Doesn’t need to, anyway, when he can hear it. Hulking, metal monstrosity like that, stained and worn out fur like sagging skin, and it sits outside the door and breathes like it hasn’t realized that it should have stopped a long time ago. It keeps sucking in that one last breath before- Before whatever happened to those kids… happened.

(Like he didn’t read the same articles as everyone else, greedy for whatever gory details he could get. Like he doesn’t know. Still, he wasn’t there when they opened those things up to find what was left. He was a security guard at a pizzeria, not a cop.

He knows what their insides look like, though. One night, that one, the one leaned in so close to the window the the dim office light illuminates the sickly yellow of its face, stood on the stage and slowly pulled itself apart while he watched through the camera. Mechanical innards spilled over grainy footage.

So, he can guess what it would be like to get shoved inside one and never come back out.)

He looks at his watch again.

Fredbear’s, Fazbear’s, whatever the goddamn name is anymore, they’ve got one big company secret: cut the cost on whatever you think is expendable.

It’s not him, actually. He’s not an expendable asset. They’d have fired him if he was.

The power is. He’s just collateral. Useful collateral, until the minute he isn’t. And he knew that. And he saw how those doors sucked up more and more of that dwindling power each night. And he kept coming back.

Where else was he going to go?

They’re moving in. He’s got a second sense for them now. He’s heard gleeful laughter all night. Footsteps up and down the halls. Out the other window, the last time he used the light, he saw one walk past. He was too slow to close the door. It should have gotten in. It just looked inside the office, and then at him, slowly, the click-click-click of parts that needed oiling as it turned its head down. He half expected it to open its mouth and begin to sing its familiar routine. He shut the door.

It’s been there ever since. That one. The one at the window. The one waiting in the dark. The impatient one who bangs on the door.

He’s had no breathing room to open the doors again.

They learned, too. They want to win.

He’s been leaving messages on the phone. Recordings. Pleas.

Silence was never going to protect him. They knew he was in here. He looked at them when he was recording himself sometimes, through the windows, and wondered why he would fumble his words because he heard the fan stutter but not because he was staring at something that wanted to kill him. Familiarity, maybe.

He’s not sure anyone is ever going to hear him. He makes up a person in his head. Down on their luck. Desperate. Would have to be to pick up a job here. And the kind of person that would stay? Insane.

Or stuck. Maybe they looked at their grocery bill the same way he did yesterday and thought, I still need to eat. I made it this far. What’s one more go?

He looks at his watch again. He grimaces. He shuts off his fan. It doesn’t do much but make the breathing outside sound heavier.

He considers it. He waits a minute. Sweat beads on his neck.

He looks at his watch again. He chuckles hopelessly.

He turns the fan back on.

On his final recording, he apologizes, “I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.” He explains, “it’s been a bad night here for me.” He lies, “maybe it won’t be so bad.”

He asks them, this person who might not exist, to look for him. A pipe dream; He’ll be cleaned up long before they hire someone new.

His eyes move from his watch to the indicator of how much power he’s been allotted for the night. He stutters as it bleeds out. They surround him, eager.

He’d forgotten what it was like to be scared of these things. Those doors seemed so strong. Only dented, never broken. He’s been doing this for so long that the monsters on the other side were almost comforting in their one, repetitive desire.

Company loyalty: it only goes one way. He takes a shaky breath.

He hopes that someone hears this. He’s got to be selfish now because he’s not going to have much more time to be. He hopes some idiot stays here and listens to every message he left. He should tell them the important stuff now, he’s got people he loves, things he wished he could have done, apologies he never gave, and he opens he mouth to say, “You know-“

It’s gone. All of it is gone. No light. No doors.

He stays so still; he doesn’t even breathe.

He can hear the one at the window. Slow. Ragged. Final.

The one at the door, standing behind him. Clicking. Creaking floor under its weight.

Impatient scraping on the walls outside. Humming played on an old voicebox.

And then that song is drowned out by another. The closing number of every show. He knows it. He used to hear it every hour on the dot during his daytime shifts before the band shut down and the curtains closed for maintenance to move in and pull out parts to make sure they were working right. It trills from his right side.

He doesn’t know if the phone is still recording. He should- He should-

This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s been here so long. He’s survived so long. He-

“Oh. No.” It’s a whisper. He can feel them close in around him. They groan like they’re in pain. He chokes on the stench.

He drops the phone.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - The Phone Call

The Tower: The Phone Call - one shot

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2714

Warnings:  smut (MMF bisexual threesome, light D/S, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex (kinda but not exactly?), oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex)

Synopsis:  When Clint continues to bug Elly at work, she takes him up to Steve’s office to play a game.

Author’s Note: Requested by K-Destiiny on Wattpad.  You can send in your requests too.

The Phone Call

Set between Troublemakers and Unexpected before all of the group had kids or powers.

Clint was restless.  He'd dislocated his shoulder on a mission and while he was mostly fine now, he’d been told he had to take it easy and rest it if he wanted to get his full form back.  He'd loved it while he was healing, particularly because we all babied him about it, so he could just lie around and whine about his pain, and we'd bring him pizza and coffee.

Now that he was healed and we were making him take care of himself, he's grown bored.  Of course, that meant he mostly took that boredom out on me.  The others were a lot less likely to humor him than I was, plus I was the one with the flexible job.

He would sit on the bench near me while I was doing cell cultures and as soon as I set FRIDAY up to run an analysis, he'd start pestering me.  Sometimes it was just a thousand questions about what I was doing.  That was fine, it was nice getting to talk about my work in layman’s terms.  Having Bruce Banner as your lab partner tended to make you feel very stupid at times.  Other times, he’d just prattle on about Dog Cops or ideas he had for new trick arrows, or different dog breeds.  I didn’t mind that either.  I loved Clint and even if he was disturbing my work, I was pretty good at multitasking, and he was good at knowing when he needed to hush because I was trying to work something out.

A lot of the time it was sex.  That was where it would get tricky because I was useless when he got me wound up.  It was like I was physically unable to say no to him - or any of them for that matter.  Even if I had other things to do, all they needed to do was kiss my neck, or touch my thigh in the right way and every other thought went out of my head.

As much as it distracted me, it was getting to Bruce more.  Sometimes we didn’t make it out of the lab and he’d still be working.  It was understandable.  Science was always more of a draw than sex for Bruce and having us messing around near him was likely to call to the Hulk.

After a week and a half of us messing around in the lab, he had had enough.

“Can you please take that somewhere else?” he begged.  “I really have to focus on this.”

“Sorry, Bruce,” Clint said sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he said.  “I get you’re bored.  And I get that El is the only one that won’t chase you off during work.  But I need to get this done.”

“I’ll take him somewhere else,” I said and came over and kissed Bruce’s cheek.  “Can you put that stuff in the freezer when FRIDAY’s done?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, rubbing my thigh.  “Have fun.”

I took Clint’s hand and led him out of the lab.  “I have an idea,” I said as we went to the elevator.

“Oh?  I like the sound of that,” he said.  “You have great ideas.  What is it?”

I turned and looked at him, my eyebrows raised.  “Steve game.”

“Steve game?” Clint asked.  “But Steve’s working.”

“I know.  Imagine how much trouble we’d be in,” I said.

Clint scuffed his foot on the ground as he thought.  “He’ll probably just tell us to go wait until tonight.”

“So - then we get a treat tonight,” I said.

“Yeah, good point,” Clint agreed.  “Come on then.”

We got into the elevator and rode it down to where the offices were.  It was a short ride but Clint still managed to make a decent start on a hickey.  When we got out we headed straight to Steve’s office.

He was on the phone when we arrived and he looked up at us, sighed, and waved us in.  I wasn’t exactly sure who he was on the phone to, but words were being thrown out like ‘public safety protocols,’ and ‘oversights,’ so if I had to guess, I’d say it was General Ross.  I closed the door and locked it before going to take a seat on the couch with Clint.  Clint stopped me, running his hands up under my skirt and exposing me to Steve.  Steve continued his phone conversation, but his attention was on me.  His blue eyes seemed to pierce through me.

Clint grabbed the waistband of my panties and dragged them down over my thigh highs and I stepped over them.  Clint turned me to face him and gestured for me to bend over.  I did as commanded, spreading my legs a little.  Clint pushed my skirt up again and used his fingers to spread my labia.  I shifted from one leg to the other, and when Clint took his hands away, I took a seat.

Steve’s eyes were locked on us, but he was still talking about government interference at the cost of civilian safety.  Clint and I started to kiss.  It was slow and passionate and our tongues danced together.  It was a kiss for show more for each other.  We were kissing for Steve - to distract him and feed the fire, so that when he did finally snap, we’d be in for a real treat.  I ran my hand down Clint’s stomach and began to palm his cock and he moaned into my lips.

Steve clicked his fingers and we broke apart to look at him.  “You will neuter us if you try to implement that.  I understand your concerns but we can’t just sit around waiting for permission to act when there is an omega-level threat.”

He was still talking to whoever was on the other end of the line but his full attention was on us.  He clicked his fingers and pointed to Clint.  Clint sat up straight and leaned forward and Steve pointed at his desk and then down at his crotch.  Clint understood immediately, and got onto all fours on the ground and crawled under the desk.  Steve’s desk was large and quite enclosed, and all I could see of Clint when he was in place, was his ass and legs poking out from under the desk.  I didn’t need to see him.  I knew what he was doing.  I felt a little jealous.  The thought of choking on Steve’s cock as he tried not to give away any of his feelings on the phone made me wet to even think about.

Steve leaned back in his chair and tucked the phone’s receiver under his chin.  “Look, I get it.  I do.  But we’re not going out and stopping convenience store hold-ups.  We’re stopping things that the police and military aren’t equipped to deal with.”

He pointed at me and touched his middle finger on the back of his hand, and then gestured at me with a jabbing motion using his thumb.  ‘Touch yourself.’

I leaned back on the couch and brought my legs up, spreading them wide so that Steve had a good view.  I began to slowly finger my clit, keeping my eyes locked on him.  I imagined what Clint must look like under the table, taking Steve’s cock as deep as he could.  The way his throat would bulge as he deep-throated the other man.  The mental images made me even wetter, and soon my fingers were glistening with my slick, and the wet trickled down in rivulets to my ass.

Steve’s blue eyes were blown out back and he stayed leaning back in this chair.  He put a hand on Clint’s head, and I could tell the speed at which Clint moved, by the movement of Steve’s arm up and down with the bobbing of Clint’s head.

Despite the hungry look in his eyes, he betrayed nothing about what was going on in his voice.  The control he had, not only over us but over himself, was a complete turn-on.  I fingered myself faster, and as a warm current of pleasure began to coil through me, I let my head fall back on the couch and my eyes fell closed.

Two of my fingers were inside me and I was roughly fucking myself with them when the clicking of fingers broke my rhythm.  I looked up to see Steve scowling at me.  He curled his finger, beckoning me over, and as I approached I was a little scared of what was about to happen to me.

He took my hand and pulled me a little closer.  Clint was looking up at us from under the desk and Steve lifted me and put him on his lap.  As he lowered me down, Clint took hold of his cock and guided it into me.  I bit back a moan, willing myself to stay quiet.  Steve was still on the phone and I knew if I gave away what was happening at all, it would mean Steve never risked playing with us like this ever again.  Not to mention that I didn’t want to embarrass him.  It was supposed to be fun - for all of us.

When I was sitting firmly in his lap, his cock so deep inside me I could feel the sting of the head pressing against my cervix, Steve grabbed Clint’s hair and dragged him forward, pushing his face into my pussy.  Clint didn’t need any clearer instruction than that.  He began greedily licking and sucking on my clit.  A hot current ran from my cunt up through my entire core and I had to hook my feet around Steve’s ankles to stop myself from closing my legs.  The effort made my thighs tremble and I let my head fall back onto Steve’s shoulder as I focused on my breathing.

“Oh that’s rich coming from you,” Steve said to whoever was on the other end of the line.  “There hasn’t been an incident in years here with us.  How’d that go for you, when you were supposed to be in control of him?”

As he spoke, the inflection in his tone only gave away how he felt about the conversation he was having and not about the fact he had started to shallowly rut into me.  My pussy clenched and squeezed around his shaft as Clint continued to use his tongue and lips to work my clit.  It was hard to focus and I began to roll my hips, swirling them like I was giving him a lap dance.  A soft moan escaped my lips and I immediately cursed myself.  Gritting my teeth as I tried to keep quiet.

Steve was quick to react, covering my mouth with his hand, and pulling my face away from the phone’s receiver.  I started to breathe heavily through my nose as I willed myself to stay quiet, even though I was being brought closer and closer to the edge.  My eyes watered with the effort of keeping quiet and a tear broke free, running down my cheek.  I felt lightheaded and my legs trembled.  Neither man backed off at all.  Steve continued to shallowly thrust up into me, while Clint sucked on my clit like he was starving and I was the only morsel on offer.

My first orgasm hit and I arched my back, my walls clamping tight around Steve’s cock.  If you were judging what was happening in the room by the tone of Steve’s voice, you would think he was in the middle of the most boring lecture known to man.  He was still trying to reason with whoever was on the line with him, and he hadn’t even appeared to react to the fact that his girlfriend just came all over his cock.

Neither Clint nor Steve eased up though.  After my third orgasm, it became clear we were going to be at this until Steve finished his phone call, and not a moment sooner.  By my fourth orgasm, tears were running down my cheeks.  Not from pain, or overstimulation - though I was on the border of being overstimulated - but from sheer exertion as I stayed silent.

“Alright, sure,” Steve said.  “But until then, we’re going to continue operating the way we’ve been operating.  There’s a reason why we’re privately run, and if you check the constitution, that’s in there.”

He hung up the phone and took his hand off my mouth.  I whined, still stuck in the thought process that I had to be quiet as my fifth orgasm was poised to break.  “Are you okay, Elise?  Do you need us to stop?”

I shook my head.  “Please, Steve…” I pleaded.

“Alright, sweetheart, one more.  Be as loud as you can,” he said, pushing me so I was bent over the desk.  Clint could no longer reach me with his mouth in the new position, but where his tongue once was his finger took over, and Steve thrust hard into me, shoving me into the desk.  It only took five thrusts for my orgasm to break and I screamed out incoherently as it tore through my body.  I grasped feebly at the desk as my body shuddered under Steve.  He slowed his strokes and slipped out of me, sitting back and pulling me onto his lap.  “You did so well, Elise,” Steve praised.  “I am so proud of you.”

I hid my face in his neck, a little too overwhelmed to say anything.

“I think Clint has earned a reward.  What do you think?” he asked.

I nodded.  “Yes.  You should fuck him.”

“Get up, birdy,” Steve said.  “Bend over my desk, pants down.”

Clint climbed out from under the desk and stretched, his joints popping.  He fished in his pocket and took out some lube, putting it on the desk before unfastening his jeans and pushing them down.

I got up off Steve’s lap with shaky legs and Steve moved up behind Clint as he bent over the desk.  “Go slow,” Clint whimpered.

Steve stroked a hand down Clint’s spine.  “Don’t worry, bird,” he soothed.  “You know I always take care of you.”  He squeezed the lube on Clint’s ass and more on his fingers.  “Elise,” he said, looking at me.  “I don’t want him to make a mess in my office.  Kneel under him and catch it all.”

I got down on my knees as Steve began to finger Clint’s ass.  I didn’t touch him just yet.  I just got into position, leaning against the back of the desk and watching Clint’s cock jump and twitch as Steve fingered his ass.

Steve took his time, but I sat patiently under them.  When a thread of precome would leak from the head of Clint’s cock, I’d lean up and lick it up.  By the time Steve started to ease into Clint’s ass, Clint’s cock was throbbing and drooling precome.

I started to suck Clint’s dick as Steve fucked his ass.  Each thrust pushed Clint deeper into my mouth, but I kept my hands braced on his hips so that it never took me by surprise.  Clint became a moaning whimpering mess between us, and his cock leaked precome over my tongue.

“Do you want to come, Birdy?” Steve cooed as he continued fucking Clint slow and deep.  “I can feel how close you are.”

“Please, Steve,” he begged.  “‘M close.  Can I?”

“Come,” Steve ordered.

Clint bucked suddenly, crying out as he released straight down my throat.  I swallowed it all, humming softly around his pulsing cock.  Steve continued to thrust, chasing his own orgasm.

“Please, Steve,” Clint mewled.  “Please come in me.  I want it.  It’s all I'm good for.  Fill me up, sir.”

Steve growled and thrust in deep, pushing Clint’s cock deeper into my mouth. He came with a deep groan, and Clint sagged under him.  “Thank you.  Thank you, sir.”

Steve eased out of Clint and he helped us both ups, redressing both himself and Clint.  “Alright, my troublemakers,” he said softly.  “Time to go down and have a cuddle and something to eat. What do you say.”

Clint and I were both too fucked out to say anything right then and there, but we held onto him as he led us out, dopey smiles glued onto both our faces.

~ END ~

[willwriteforhugs]

you saved me- park seonghwa

seonghwa x reader - one shot !

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, meet-cute

synopsis: a busy and cold winter day leads you to a (very close) brush with death. but a stranger seems to be in just the right place at just the right time...

warnings: mentions of loneliness, near car accident (nothing too serious)

a/n: 

me as i open tumblr with the intent of actually posting for once: god i need to go post something so i feel less bad about being alive

so, anyways. first seonghwa fic- which is really just a long drabble. i always knew i wanted a seonghwa meet-cute, and this idea just seemed to suit him... please remember that this is for entertainment purposes only, though, so be respectful! (also, ^^^THIS genre of seonghwa pic, with the grainy filter and the tan...bruh...)

 anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always- thank you for reading :)

- - -

your breath comes out in short, angry puffs, which you can see reflected in the cold afternoon air. the temperature in seoul is absolutely freezing, and you are not dressed for it. when you had left for work this morning, (in your standard sweater + jeans combo) you clearly were not anticipating that the sky would dump snow all day long. you long desperately for your warm winter coat.

so now, here you are: jogging, but only as quickly as you feel is safe in this weather. your condo is only a few blocks down- hence why you had walked in the first place, and why you hadn’t brought cash to pay for a bus. but god, the cold is just piercing.

the streets are practically empty, because of the terrible weather. so, at the very least, you are spared the embarrassment of having to waddle awkwardly on the ice in front of others.

but, to add to the stress- your day had seriously not gone as planned.

 when you first took it, you thought that the simple receptionist job would be easy- and doubly so with the convenient location. but these past few weeks were proving you wrong, today especially. while being distracted by coworkers, you accidentally put an important client on a somewhat permanent hold, and ruined a potential sale. as if that wasn’t enough, the next call you routed to a completely different office by mistake, earning you a strict talking to by the supervisor. 

so, to put it plainly: you were tired, annoyed, and cold. so. freaking. cold.

heaving a sigh, you continue your jog/waddle towards your street corner, which is two intersections away. faintly, you can hear a city bus approaching, the one that always stops near your work building. from where you are standing, the bus will be driving perpendicular to you, and you cock your head in thought. you don’t need the shuttle itself, since you live so close, but you wonder how close the bus is now...

feeling a sudden burst of energy, you speed up a bit, challenging yourself to beat the bus to the empty corner, even though you know it won’t stop there. this is something you do often- set up little games for yourself. it’s mostly an attempt to stay busy, but- though you’d never admit it, it helps with the loneliness too. when you race against the clock (say, to make a speedrun to the copy room at work) it almost feels like you are competing against an old friend.

you obviously know that you can’t beat the bus, but the thought itself is entertaining, so you throw caution to the wind. your feet slap the pavement as you run, and you hear yourself laugh a little. the cold air rushing by your cheeks helps distract you from your own thoughts.

you sprint through an empty intersection, and as you approach the final corner- having obviously lost the race to the bus- you begin to slow down a bit. but as you near the end of the sidewalk, (which is parallel to the moving bus, whose hulking body is getting ready to pass you) you feel your previous momentum get the better of you. 

you stumble off of the curb- and right into a vicious patch of ice on the waiting asphalt. 

it happens in slow motion: your feet slide harshly backwards, and you scramble for any traction- but to no avail. you hear yourself cry out as you fall forward, right into the path of the oncoming shuttle.

you slam your eyes shut.

but instead of hitting the ground, or the bus, a sudden weight catches you around your middle and lurches backwards. you scream again, certain you’ve already died.

you hear the sound of the bus honking as it speeds by- the only thing traveling faster than it is your frantic pulse.

you hit the ground hard, with all of your weight on your left shoulder and hip. even so, you start with the relief of knowing the bus didn’t even graze you. 

only after a moment do you realize why it hadn’t.

someone had caught you.

grabbed you from behind, and used their whole body weight to get the two of you to safety. 

you lurch forward, startled. as you turn around, you see him lying on the ground, in the same position you were in just seconds before- and you meet the eyes of the person who’d just saved you. 

it’s a man- a young one. and good god, he’s beautiful, too. the boy on the ground before you is seriously the epitome of korean beauty- large, dark eyes, an open face, and full lips. as soon as he opens his mouth, you wonder at how his teeth could possibly be so perfect.

it takes you a moment of staring before you realize he’s speaking to you. 

“um.” your voice breaks. “what?”

the boy scrambles onto his knees, shuffling towards you. “i asked if you’re alright- are you hurt?” his voice is concerned, and his hands flutter about your face- too wary to touch you, but clearly wanting to.

his eyes are more genuine than you can even take in, and you hesitate at the whole scene- what the hell is happening? did you hit your head?

you stutter, trying to make sense of the situation. the boy leans back on his heels as you finally catch your breath. 

your words are breathy, but deliberate. “you- you saved me.”

the boy tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “yes, i suppose i did.” a beat passes before he continues. his eyes, though now bordering on playful, still look worried. “you probably shouldn’t be running in this sort of weather.”

you heave a sigh that comes out in a laugh. “yeah, i realize that now.”

your counterpart picks himself up off the ground, brushing off his front. he then extends a hand towards you. you stare at it for a moment, confused. for a moment, he looks down at you intently, waiting. your puzzlement passes, and you blush as you cautiously place your palm in his, allowing him to help you up. 

“i’m seonghwa, by the way. park seonghwa.” the man- no, seonghwa looks down at you, letting his sentence hang.

you clear your throat, feeling a harsh wave of embarrassment at the situation. “um- i’m y/n.”

seonghwa nods at you, taking a step back. his brow is furrowed. “well, y/n-ssi- you didn’t actually tell me if you were hurt or not. do you feel dizzy? nauseous?”

you throw your hands up in protest, not wanting to cause any more distress than you already had. “no, uh- i’m fine, really. maybe a little bruised, but i’m okay. i think it would be a bigger problem if you were hurt...”

you are not exaggerating- you can only imagine the guilt you would feel if he’d been injured. 

seonghwa represses a smile. “i’m alright too. you did startle me, though. thought i was about to witness something pretty terrible...”

at this, you give a surprised chuckle. “yeah, i’m so sorry...you really came out of nowhere, huh? i seriously didn’t even know you were there until i was on the ground!”

this time, it’s his turn to laugh. “yeah, those bus stops provide great cover.”

the two of you settle into a stiff silence, and you can practically hear your heart pounding- both with leftover adrenaline, as well as the sudden nerves that seonghwa was giving you.

“here,” he says, breaking the quiet. “take this.” he shrugs off his long winter coat, and before you can argue, he’s reached over and settled it on your shoulders. the relief is near instantaneous, but you find yourself a bit too tongue-tied to thank him.

you sigh again, determined to get the words out. “oh, god, i really am so sorry about that, um-” you stutter. “i really should thank you, for the coat. but also-” you take a deep breath. “thank you, park seonghwa, for saving my life.”

at this, the man actually blushes. he reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “no, really, it was just a gut reaction...”

you shake your head, insistent. “it doesn’t matter. i could have died, but you prevented that. now-” you can feel yourself gaining confidence. “what can i do to repay you?”

seonghwa’s face, which had previously harbored a look of child-like innocence, suddenly turns mischievous. 

you tilt your head, indicating an answer.

his smug smile is full now, chin tilted upwards. “i actually do have a request.”

“okay, shoot.”

“you’ll do anything i ask?”

you frown, narrowing your eyes in an almost flirtatious way. “i suppose i have a few limits...”

to your surprise, seonghwa interrupts you, eyes twinkling. “you’ll repay me- by allowing me to take you out on a date, y/n.”

your mind goes fully blank for a moment. 

...huh?

you blink in shock, not being able to suppress your initial reaction. “wait, come again?”

“will you go on a date with me?”

you stare at him- this terrifyingly beautiful man was asking you on a date? after you’d fully humiliated yourself in front of him? what on earth?

suddenly, before you can even finish the thought, you find yourself nodding. “i suppose i can arrange that.”

seonghwa’s smile is completely smug at this point. “does tonight work?”

you bite your lip, heart pounding despite the chilly weather. your voice comes out in a whisper: “yes, i suppose tonight works.”

seonghwa tries to bury his smile and looks at the ground. “that’s great.” he pauses, allowing his gaze to flit back to you. “do you- i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you want me to walk you home?”

you smile, but shake your head. “it’s alright, i live close. here- i’ll give you my number, though.”

you dig through your work satchel for a piece of paper and scribble your phone number on it. when you extend it, he accepts the slip, still trying to suppress his grin.

a beat passes, and the two of you look at each other intently.

and with that, seonghwa reaches down and gently takes your hand, glancing at your face to make sure the action is alright with you. when you don’t pull away, he lifts it up and presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, holding your gaze the entire time. his lips are cold, an unlikely and romantic nod to the temperature.

you feel your neck and cheeks go red, but you smile in an attempt to seem casual. “thanks again, seonghwa. for helping me.”

“of course.” the man’s eyes are twinkling again. “as grim as it sounds, i’m sort of glad it happened. if it hadn’t, i probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”

you smirk in what you hope is a flirtatious manner. 

“well,” he continues. “don’t let me keep you. after all, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

seonghwa begins to walk away, then turns back. “although,” he calls over his shoulder. “i’m pretty sure the guy you’re meeting with won’t care what you’re wearing. you could probably show up in your pajamas and he’d still think you were gorgeous. just for the record.”

before you could manage an answer, he turns on his heel and strides away- but even from here, you can tell he still has a goofy grin plastered on his face.

heart pounding, you turn and make your way towards your apartment building. 

despite yourself, you also can’t seem to keep the grin off of your face.

[mochibrokenheart]

SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort. 

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself. 

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death. 

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.  

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position. 

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

[oh-for-fic-sake]

I Didn't Know This Was A Date

You end up on a date unknowingly.

Masterlist

Warnings:Adult situations +18 ,Smut ,Masturbation ,Swearing

A/n: So I'm basing Clark's confidence issues on my own, I'm either overconfident and cocky or have absolutely none whatsoever and can got from one to the other in seconds. I have nothing against Lois as a character but I do think she is spoiled and a little selfish I don't want to make her mean and turn her into the typical rival, but at the same time I could see her getting a little too wrapped up in the whole hero thing and I am 99.9% sure that if they broke up she would find it hard accepting him moving on.

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​

I Didn't Know This Was A Date

You quickly cut across the field to your little blue farm house, heart racing as you replayed his words over and over. Squealing girlishly. Wow he was hot, soo hot and sweet he seemed shy but he definitely knew he was attractive. Shit this was so crazy but you trusted him. Martha had told you lots about her Clark, that he was shy and been raised a true gentleman, he was kind and it sometimes caused him problems smart, gentle and loving a true catch by the sound of it.

He had seemed all these things and more, you scaled the steps to your house running straight to the master bedroom pulling out a pink medium sized suitcase before gathering clothes you'd need, then your essentials pajamas underwear, make up bag and a hair kit. Finally you came to the dress you would wear on the night you smiled you would look stunning if you did say so yourself. After deliberating packing then repacking you looked up at the clock nine pm sighing you decided it was time for a shower then bed. Making your way to the bath room you were flooded with thoughts anticipating what was to come.

You debated on weather to epilate, honestly you couldn't be bothered but decided it would be best to just in case anything did happen between you a the blue eyed hottie. You quickly washed your hair epilating your legs then shaved tidying up the apex of your thighs a little not that it needed much doing to it, it was your legs you never bothered with. You couldn't help but moan as you used the shower head to rinse yourself,rocking forward as the spray hit your sensitive clit biting your lip as you imagined him there with you, a burning hand pushing you back against the cool tiles pinning you with one hand on your ribs fingers splayed almost covering your whole rib cage, you size kink was well and truly activated by the hulk of a man you hummed imagining how he would use his size and strength to hold you still ,use it to man handle you, manipulate you into any position, to fuck you anyway he saw fit weather you liked it or not.

You thought about how he navigate the shower head between your open legs forcing the spray on your heated core, angling it to graze you swollen clit. FUCK. You grunted head falling back to the wall widening your feet letting the warm water hit your bundle of nerves mouth open panting as you lost yourself in the fantasy, he'd tease you moving the water in small circles the back and forth letting it caress you from your ass all the way up to your tender clit leaning over you, crowding you with his huge form.

You shivered you wouldn't be able to escape, not even if you wanted to, his piercing blue eyes would be all you saw as you managed to open your eyes mewling softly , he'd have to audacity to still look a little shy as he toyed with you. Finally he'd let his hand slip down your body dragging the pads of his heated fingers in slow patterns, your hand followed as you held your eyes close imagining he was there instead, he would ghost them along your seam slow, prying your lips apart, but once he opened you up he wouldn't waste time spearing you with one then two digits stretching you, tormenting your walls as his thick fingers easing their way inside you crooking them forward scissoring them trying to prepare you for his cock, he would move slow at first then fast forcing you into a sudden climax.

"AH OH FUCK YES C-Clark shit hah!~" you cried out his name as you came across your own hand bucking and twisting as you held the water firm on your erect clit the whole time panting hard as you came down finally pulling the water away for a few moments the cursing as you returned it to wash away your mess that still clung to you.

Clark laid in bed his jaw clenched growling trying to keep quiet not wanting to disturb his mom, erect cock in hand furiously pumping it, he'd been at this now for nearly half an hour, the same as you. In this moment he didn't know if his super hearing was a gift or curse. He could hear you, crying out for him as you fucked yourself in your bed across the field, he could even hear the fucking vibrator be turned up a notch as you cried out high and desperately for him once again panting and groaning.

Fuck that was good but something tells you that once you get to bed you’d be forcing another few climax's out of yourself over him tonight.

He grunted as he closed his eyes concentrating on the soft whimpers he had half a mind to go over there and fuck you properly, pin you down and force feed you his cock....not that there would be any forcing from the sounds of it you'd be happy to oblige. That toy wouldn't compare to anything he could Would do to you, fuck you'd be so tight for him, even with how wet you'd be he'd have to be careful not to hurt you, that's not to say he would be gentle. No. He would be delicate enough not to break bones or tear you but that was about it.

He grunted tightening his fist until, it was slightly painful, just the way he liked it. He always put his pain kink down to the fact he couldn't ever really get hurt, he was indestructible, the man of steel, but when he first discovered this as a teen he thought he was weird for enjoying it so much, strange that he would get off faster if his sensitive erect cock was pinched and pulled at or squeezed painfully tight.

It then developed into a size kink, wanting to find the smallest woman he could that would give him that delicious pain and pleasure mix that he craved. He grunted biting his other hand as he panted harshly hearing you begin to come undone again moaning out for him, thinking about him.

He groaned throwing his head back hearing you finally come down from your high panting laughing a little hoarse from your screams, you'd be more than hoarse when he finally finished with you, you'd loose your voice completely after he hung your face off the side of the bed and plowed your throat he gave one final harsh pinch with the side of his thumb and pointer finger imagining breaching your cervix and came the hardest he thinks he ever has jerking his hips seeing stars for a second, he was so lost in his orgasm he thought he was going to fall out of bed.

He wondered what you was imagining, if it was the same as him, he could see it now him standing up right with you folded in half before him, hooking your bent leg over his arms as he pulled them up to your sides knees nearly at your armpits as he pulled them back, facing away from him as his hands threaded together cupping behind your neck holding your entire weight on his forearm as he pulled and pushed Into you pounding away

You'd cry and moan for him, begging him to slow down as it was to much, he wouldn't tho he'd just tell you to enjoy the ride and fuck you until you felt him for days, stuffing your tight little cunt full until you'd struggle trying to get away from him, it'd be impossible tho, you wont get away until he decided to let you which was unlikely, not until he floods your tiny pussy, even then he knew it wont be just the once, no it normally took four or five rounds to empty his balls and you'd be getting the full dose each time, weather it was down your throat, in your cunt or across your tits if he played his cards right he hoped he could spend himself in that prefect peach of an ass either way you was getting all of it.

"Oh-fuck yes yes fuck baby so tiny and tight for me fuckfuck fuck that's it ugh!"He came in thick powerful ropes, thankfully he had angled himself up towards his chest when he finished not getting any on the sheets cumming across his stomach and chest instead, he was a little shocked as a few drops had made it to his collar bone.

He was frustrated and hurt when he came here today, wanting his moms advice on how to get over Lois and now he was happy and for the first time in a long time hopeful, he could definitely see himself with you but didn't want to rush, he was finding peace with the fact that he had been falling out of love with Lois for a long time, all she seemed to go on about now was the next article she could write about Superman even going so far as to 'accidentally' fall out of a moving car into oncoming speeding traffic so she could,write about how she was saved. That particular one had made him very angry.

He panted resting an arm across his closed eyes catching his breath as his cock finally seemed sated for now, he listened he could hear the relaxed heartbeat of his mother he hadn't woke her which was good, he was embarrassed being caught as a teen and he would hate it even more now. He turned his head a little listening out for you he was greeted with you moaning drowsily about drenched sheets then a few moments later light snores you was out like a light.

He chuckled you'd fucked yourself into a coma just for him. He smiled moving his arm from his eyes a relief flowed through him. His mom was right you did like him, he might just be good enough for you after all, he was going to try and win your heart over the next week, determined to make Saturdays party you first time together he exhaled content tucking himself back into his boxers then made for the bathroom to clean himself up flushing the toilet roll away when he finished making his way back to bed hands behind his head.

Bottom line she wanted him to be superman day and night,she even started calling him Kal when not in the office. Then there was the sex now he wasn't against role play in the bedroom, quite the opposite but it would be nice to hear his name every once in a while, his human name the one he has grown up with and as for using his powers he didn't mind occasionally but they aren't toys or party tricks, it got exhausting, he sees being superman as a job in itself, but it was a job Lois never gave him time off of, he drew the line when he found it hard to relax and just be himself that was when he new he had to call it off.

He nearly lost who he was to a symbol of hope, he knew if that happened he would have grown to hate superman and everything it stood for which could only end in disaster. The whole situation had been weighing him down for the best part of a year as he tried to deny it, putting the break up off willing her to change and when she didn't he finally called it quits and has felt guilty ever since, until today that is.

After meeting you today and getting them nervous flutters in his stomach again he felt nothing but relief over it, he knew it was the right thing to do, this is what it should feel like, light and happy, care free and warm. For the first time in what felt like years he fell asleep with a smile across his face.

All day there had been casually flirting on both parts which gave him hope that you was interested in more then just a quick fuck still tho it was torture watching other men giving you looks and not being able to do anything ,you laughed a little nervous as he leaned in over the table as you waited for your food.

The next evening you found yourself in a quaint little diner near Clark’s apartment for dinner after spending the day exploring the city. Clark couldn't take his eyes off you, you were stunning dressed in a floral print button up shirt that you had tied in the front showing a small patch of skin of your tummy and high waist light blue jeans showing off your curves , he groaned inwardly the jeans were like a second skin cupping your ass perfectly your hair was down and you had spent most of the day tucking it behind your ears, a nervous habit he assumed.

"So Ma said you moved here four months ago bit of a jump what ,made you decide to come all this way?"

"Well my parents were separated , my mum was well-to put it bluntly she was like Lois, she wanted my dad to be something he's not and she destroyed him constantly chasing her version of perfection without any care to how unhappy she was making him in the end it drove him into a deep depression. One day he had a wake up call and threw her out he tried divorcing her but she wouldn't sigh the papers she kept trying to make his life worse didn't want him to move on she used me as an excuse to keep hanging around...Dad was well off I think that's the reason she wouldn't leave. When he passed away mum was left hardly anything even our housekeeper got more then she did, he really fucked her over for the hell she put him through. After the will was settled she kept harassing me for money and the house each week another sob story and another amount. One time I felt sorry for her and let her in she got me drunk and tried to make me give her the deeds for safe keeping that was the last straw after that I started searching online and after about a week I found the farm house It needed a lot of work doing to it but I liked that... I fell in love with it and put in an offer straight away. Three weeks later I was on the plane" he blinked it was a little sad you ran to the other side of the globe to avoid your mother.

"Wow did you ever tell her?" You shook your head

"No she came over when the the day before I left I let her in and she lost her shit screaming about where all the stuff was and I told her it had been packed she asked why and I told her that I was moving  she thought i was just moving across the county she flipped when i told her I was coming to America and never coming back, she asked where but I wouldn't tell her it ended in an argument she called me a thief and said some shit then left she was just angry that I like my dad had figured her out." He looked shocked how could a mother do such a thing, but then again money is the root of most evil.

"That must have been hard"

"No not really she hadn't been in my life since I was seven when my dad threw her out and I knew what she had done to him fuck I was the one who found him when he tried-I mean it wasn't a big loss" he picked up on the correction but decided not to push it.

"So you came over here to get away?"  You nodded sipping your pepsi

"Yeah in a way I should thank her its the best thing I've ever done, its strange and I still get a little confused at times as you saw with the whole,chip incident earlier but I  really like it over here, smallville is wonderful and much more laid back" he smiled biting his lip as your face lit up.

"Well I for one am glad you made the move" he winked at you you giggle blushing. Busying yourself fiddling with the straw in your drink.

"So my mom? When did you meet her?" You looked up quickly.

"Oh she came over the day I moved in, I was lucky she did i was freaking out it had just sunk in that I was over here completely on my own and didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do, I had nothing to eat the trucks were held up and I couldn't figure out how to turn on the electricity I just sort of sat on the porch with my carry on luggage and broke down she came over with a peach crumble and a bottle of wine and we spent the morning on the porch eating it from the tray and she showed me the fuse box in the basement which I didn't even know the house had to turn on the electricity then went back home coming over with more wine my stuff showed up at lunch time by that time we were both a little tipsy and we have been friends ever since, she helped me sell the fields on the property to the local farmers in return I gave her the small paddock on your side of the road that came with the house. Every time I get confused, need help or if I'm bored I'll pop over to bug her" he laughed not exactly sure what to expect but honestly he didn't know what he was expecting but you getting drunk and eating crumble together wasn't a scenario he could ever have imagined.

"Yes just nice to see a girl with a healthy appetite ,don't get that much around here" you giggled a little

You were interrupted when your food arrived. He watched as you closed your eyes moaning a little at your fully loaded burger grunting at the sound a little, fuck did you have to make them noises he though as he twitched a little, you stopped looking at him staring at you

"What? Is everything okay?" He snapped out of it

"Well I've never heard him referred to like that before!"

"Yes well the bigger I get the bigger the boobs" he blushed unconsciously glance at your chest you snickered catching him as he started to eat, he enjoyed your company as you spent the time flirting and getting to know each other, you were easy to talk to and laid back, full of funny stories about your home and the differences you'd noticed being here.

He was enamored with you the whole time. He told you about his work and the different articles he had written then just out of curiosity he brought up the topic of Superman wanting to hear your views

"Superman? He's the flying one the lycra and bed sheet right?" He bellowed a laugh slapping his thigh a little.

"I'm not wrong tho am I? I suppose I think he's cool  I think people should cut him some slack I mean he is doing more for others than most, leave the man alone you know?" He smiled nodding he found it refreshing to hear something other then the same old 'he should reveal himself' or the negative 'he's an alien and should go home'

"Yeah I agree, so you wouldn't want to know who he was? Or for him to reveal himself?" You leaned back in your seat then shook your head

"No honestly I'm not that interested, he saves people and that should be enough, he don't have to but he is and that shows that he is a better person then me but then again I’m lazy, as for revealing himself I think we owe it to him to let him have a bit of normality, I mean he was here his whole life, living just like one of us then suddenly one day he had to step up and kick the shit out of that other fuck nut. I feel a little sorry for him" you sighed he frowned that he hadn't heard before

"Sorry for him?" You nodded offering him some of your chips that he had been eyeing up.

"Yeah he was never really given a choice was he? One day he was normal like you and me living his life the next being called out by the freaky one with the buzz cut and lisp" he leaned forward stealing more chips fries off your plate.

"Well he did have a choice he could have stayed hidden" you scoffed

"With them holding the world as hostage, he had to think of his loved ones he must have a family and friends you can't live your whole life without having people you want to protect" he smiled wide his eyes soft, you were the complete opposite to Lois she felt like he should tell everyone who he was believing that if he proved he was one of you people would accept him more, not that most didn't but a few still held him responsible for what happened.

"So you wouldn't mind if he swooped down and took off with you?" You laughed

"To our first date?" you blushed at him not realizing he had classed this as a date but was ecstatic trying not you squeal in excitement.

"Depends, if I'm falling to my death I'd appreciate a lift, but if he did it for shits and giggles.... well there'd be more shitting then giggling I tell you that much I'm not one for heights" he roared up unable to stop the bellowing laughs from escaping

"You think I'm joking I threw up once because I wore heels.....okay I was a little drunk and the stairs were glass but that's not the point I am just uncomfortable with heights I don't even wear high heels anymore kitten heels only" he smiled shaking his head

"Gotcha no heights" he said stealing more fries off your plate making you roll your eyes.

Once you'd finished your food he lifted his glass to you, you followed suit raising your glass.

"Date? I didn't know this was a date Mr Kent?" He smiled sheepishly then cleared his throat nervously his voice wavered a bit.

"Well that's only if you want it to be?" You stared at him making him squirm a little then smiled nodding

"Yes I would like that But for the record if you'd asked me I wouldn't have turned you down" then tapped your glass with his

"R-really you would have said yes?" You smiled at his flustered expression it was strange how one moment he was confident then the next a sweet shy teddy bear, you knew it must be something to do with his ex but you was patient enough to wait it out, he has had his confidence knocked and you were determined to build it back up.

"Clark would you like to go out to dinner again tomorrow? Make it our second date" He stuttered flushing as you held on to his hand across the table then nodded smiling.

"Yes I-I'd love that" you smiled at that.

"About what?"

"So what do you think? Seriously?" He asked walking down the road as you left the diner you tilted your head a little staring up at him he squeezed your hand.

"Well we only met yesterday and you only came here to help me with my ex ,I just wanted to know what you really think about all this? About me?" He tried to keep his nerves at bay as he asked you, he wanted to know straight away what your thoughts were, as soon as the question left his mouth he wanted to take it back dreading your answer.

You felt a little sorry for him, what ever his ex had done had really knocked him, you hummed lightly, wanting to pick your words carefully, you had to get across that you really did like him and wanted to pursue him and not just for his looks either.

"Really? You really want to try? And not just be friends?" He said in slight disbelief you nodded

"Fine enough dicking about I like you, really like you, I'm really attracted to you Clark, not just your looks, your sweet, kind and I've had a brilliant time today laughing more than I think I ever have on a first date, it true we have just met but I'm not someone to waste time or beat around the bush, I like you a lot if I thought nothing would come of this I wouldn't be here...I know that you've been hurt but I-I do feel there's something between us, something has just sort of clicked and would like to explore it if you would like to." His heart soared at your words and his shoulders relaxed letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Like I said I felt something  and I definitely want to carry on and see where this takes us." He grinned wide tucking you into his side

"Good I was so afraid you didn't feel the same!" Silence fell over you, you could feel there he was thinking to hard, he took a deep breath and turned to you smiling then leant down ever so slowly,tentative and nervous giving you every opportunity to back away but you didn't leaning in closer to him wanting him to make the decision,  he made a slow decent licking his lip lightly,you braced yourself your breathing hitched as he descended towards you shifting a little, you cautiously rose to meet him but he hovered lips just above yours breath fanning across your lips unsure he was thinking to much you could see it you made the decision for him standing on your tip toes pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss, moving in sync he melted into the kiss before opening his mouth wrapping his arms around you pulling you flush against him groaning as he grabbed your ass in his huge warm hands tugging you towards him leaning down so you could plant you heels back on to the floor.

You mewled winding your arms around his neck locking your fingers together playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He licked at your lips coaxing them open once you did you whined as his tongue wrapped around yours twisting and licking dominating your mouth then he slowed his movements relishing in the kiss holding you tighter to him afraid you'd leave, you grunted softly then pulled back for air before gasping then dragging him back this time more desperate you dove straight in running your tongue across the inside of his mouth moaning fucking his mouth with your tongue trying to taste him as much as you could grinding against Him slowly making him shiver before biting at his bottom lip sucking it harshly. Then pulled away panting. His face glowed a bright red no doubt your did to, you stood by his side and he pulled you in under his arm squeezing your bicep reassuringly.

"So we are dating now then?" He asked still trying to calm his heart beat, yours was racing to which didn't help.

"I would say so yes." He smiled down at you resting his face on your Head kissing it every now and then unable to stop now.

"Good, I couldn't stand everyone looking at you today unable to do anything about it" you faltered as he growled the words out. You flushed, the possessiveness in his voice was enough to make a girl swoon.UGH.Panty dropping you all but melted at his words clenching.

"This" it was the only warning you got before you squealed he lifted you up wrapping your legs around his waist pinning you to the nearest wall grinding slow against you making you moan into him, your clit erect almost instantly as he rocked across it threw your jeans, the cotton of your panties becoming a damp.

"Oh really and what are you gonna do about it then?" You asked a cheeky grin he raised an eyebrow

He laughed a little as you wriggled against him trying to get away not wanting to seep threw onto your pale jeans his hands merely held you firm as his cock throbbed against you, you could feel it hot and twitching he rubbed harder moaning into your mouth as he took your breath away, kissing you deeper than before, almost trying to devour you as he licked into your open mouth then coiled his tongue around yours caressing it with a thrusting motions making you groan lightly.

He began sucking yours into his mouth pulling away he trailed a few light kisses down your neck then licked at your neck just below your ear nipping it before opening his mouth wide biting down and sucking heavily, you cried out arching into him pressing your core firmly onto his very eager cock making him hiss and pull away he grunted keeping your rocking hips still looking at his work a dark bruise forming on your neck high enough that it wont be getting covered any time soon he puffed out his chest a sense of pride then leaned forward kissing it softly making you sigh then ran his nose across it before speaking lowly into your ear.

"Oh my god Clark I'm so sorry! that is so embarrassing!" You panicked and felt like you could cry covering your crotch and ass looking around for something to hide it with he smirked a little he couldn't help being smug, that was just a little taster and you’d soaked yourself through.

"There we go now everyone will see that your all mine" you whimpered as your pussy shuddered he hissed feeling it. Then set you back down chuckling lightly as he spotted the wet patch on your jeans you followed his gaze and gasped mortified

"Nothing to be sorry for its very flattering! But here use this" shrugging off his jacket you accepted it gladly pulling it over your arms and holding the neck breathing in his scent, he groaned in his chest. It drowned you, the hem falling to your knees ,You looked perfect. He will definitely be putting you in his clothes more often, he cleared his throat tugging on his jeans rearranging himself then took hold of your hand walking towards his apartment. Yes today had been good but something tells him this week would only get better and better.

[derireo]

a3! as part-timers

I FINALLY FINISHED IT AGAIN. Thank you all for being patient with me because I really liked these headcanons and Tumblr just decided to delete them all <3

WARNING: rookie Chikage Utsuki will be included! (this means spoilers for Act 5 are present throughout).

It's canon that Sakuya works with Misumi, but I have no clue as to what their jobs are. Let's safely assume that Sakuya works at a cafe! His bright disposition and cheerful smile is bound to put a smile on customer's face, but he's a little clumsy when it comes to making drinks so his co-workers always tell him to stick to the cash register. It suits him anyways, being able to talk to different people of different walks of life. He mostly works in the mornings, only after he manages to get Masumi to school on time. He is a customer favourite no doubt, and he brings in a lot of tips for all of the workers to share! Many of the children that come by love him, and especially teachers who are running late to work deem him the sunshine in their life.

Masumi would work at a music shop. Not to be obvious or anything, but music is possibly one of the only constants in his life and he grew a deep bond with it while staying alone at home for most of his life. So when he manages to get a job at shop in inside Veludo Mall, he's ecstatic. Although he gets to spend less time in the dorm (which means less time with the Director), Masumi absolutely loves perusing the endless aisles of music cds, vinyl records, posters, and so much more. He's also very diligent at his job, organizing things perfectly and on time and even helping out customers even though he doesn't really want to. His coworkers grow so fond of him to the point that they let him listen to his own music while doing his job, headphones on while he reorganizes things on the shelves.

I don't really know what part-time job Citron would have, but I know he hangs around the Veludo markets a lot. He's there all the time, helping out the lovely ladies at their food stalls by actively advertising their products of the day and even charming young couples into buying some trinkets at another stall. His charm is very effective, smile so dazzling and eyes so hypnotizing that you can't help but follow him towards a stall where they're selling handmade mochi or fresh produce. This is all volunteering though, Citron doesn't get paid with money. What he does get paid with is lots of hugs and groceries to bring home to the dorm-- much to the delight of Izumi and Omi! Citron's so popular at the markets that he receives a greeting from every single stall while he passes by. And he never leaves empty handed!

Tsuzuru tends to boast about the countless number of part-time jobs he's had. From gas station worker, to waiter, to library work, he has done a lot of things. I don't really think it's something to brag about because if I had that many jobs I would probably d-word. But working at Mankai as a playwright, that's already his dream come true. I don't think he'd want to work anywhere else when he's writing stories and bringing them to life like he has always wanted and it makes me happy to see that he's living out his dream. If anything, if he does work a part-time job, it's probably to get extra money to spend on his younger and older brothers since he's such a family man. And because his stories bring so much attention to Mankai, Sakyo compensates Tsuzuru very generously.

Gaming is Itaru's part-time job. Taruchi is a mysterious persona who is crazy good at video games and has a soothing voice. The kick is that nobody knows what he looks like and Itaru would like to keep it that way. He's a popular streamer and Let's Player so there's no doubt that he is raking in a lot of cash. How he finds time to juggle an office job, Mankai, and streaming is beyond me, but it is absolutely impressive because despite how lazy he seems to be, he is a diligent worker who is very good at entertaining people. Plus, nobody knowing what his face looks like brings in a lot of intrigue and fans. Itaru always baits his fans that just maybe he'll reveal his face to them, but never does. Everyone loves his teasing and Itaru loves messing with people. One of the top streamers on his platform and he's proud of it. The appearance of Banri's NEO also helps a lot with bringing in viewers. (The extra money he makes is donated to the Mankai fund box)

Not gonna lie, but with Chikage being a spy as well as an office worker, I don't think he has enough time to have another job on top of that. As we saw in Act 5, he worked tirelessly on his computer, rarely sleeping. Being a spy is hard work, and now that he realizes that Hisoka may not have betrayed the organization, he now has to work to keep Hisoka's location hidden from enemies. Can you imagine being an office worker tho.... could never be me. Sry Chikage and Itaru lmfao but that sounds painful. Anyways, if Chikage isn't actively working for the organization and isn't posting on his curry blog, maybe he's doing tech support? He's always sitting at his computer so he might as well you know lmfaoo

"I'm too famous to work a part-time job" he says while at the same time applying to work at a bonsai shop. Who are you kidding, Tenma? Also pretty sure the owners don't really care so he gets the job right away since they're in desperate need of help. Tenma acts kind of bratty as it is his first time having a job that isn't acting, but he gets knocked down a few pegs when he has to carry around heavy bags of soil and nutrients for the bonsai trees. Eventually, he comes to love his job, seeing the owners as part of his family as they take great care of him while he works at their shop. Unfortunately, there will still be those fans who will watch him as he works at the bonsai shop, but Tenma uses it to his advantage, saying that if they want to look a little more, they're going to have to buy a bonsai tree. The owners are like ??? wtf tenma ??? but inevitably, it brings in a lot of business;;;

Yuki would definitely work at a boutique as an apprentice!! Working with different types of fabric and body shapes and frills, god, what a dream come true for him! Sure, making costumes for Mankai is one thing, but those are costumes, not actual clothes you would wear outside on the daily. His skill in clothes is amazing and it amazes his mentor who watches on proudly as Yuki sews something gorgeous every single time he comes to help. And Yuki absolutely loves being there too, getting to work on normal every day people who aren't huge hulking men that manage to ruin their measurements every time Yuki makes something for them. Plus, using this experience from his apprenticeship helps him a lot if he so chooses to go to a school for fashion. I'm rooting for you, Yuki!

Working at a manga store, Muku is absolutely in love. He's already in the Library Committee at school so might as well work somewhere book related, right? The boy was lucky to get the job at his favourite manga shop at the mall, and he doesn't even need to wear a uniform! As long as he wears his employee lanyard and name tag, he is all good to go! Being surrounded with his favourite book series and figurines and posters alike is very exciting for Muku, and he works extremely well with customers who need help looking for recommendations or gifts. His enthusiasm charms everyone he talks to and he becomes a customer and workplace favourite after a couple of days. His avid hobby of reading manga is apparent to everyone he comes across, and when he meets another customer who is just as dedicated to manga as he, they have long talks while Muku convinces them to buy more books.

Kazunari would definitely work at an arts store. Cliche, I know, but he wouldn't want to be anywhere else! Michaels would be a good place to start, but knowing how great he is at aesthetics, I think a paint store would do him well too. Both places would mostly have university students as their workers anyways so Kazunari would fit in right away! Popular with customers due to his enthusiasm with art, Kazunari gets a lot of requests for help when choosing certain pigments and wallpapers for bedrooms and large scale art projects. His knowledge with the subject of art is deep and wide, so he is able to answer any questions thrown his way. He is so loved at his job that when he eventually quits to achieve bigger things, they throw a party for him and all promise to visit and watch his next play!

It's canon that Misumi is a freelancer, which means he works any type of odd job and never sticks to one for too long. The job that he has kept the longest is the cafe one where he's with Sakuya. He actually helped Sakuya get this job at the first place, and when they work together, they're a force to be reckoned with! They bring in a lot of tips together and since Misumi is so quick on his feet and speedy with his hands, there's never a line up for drinks. Everything goes out the door just as fast as they had come in and his co-workers love him for it. He is also very popular for his fanged tooth and eye crinkling smile! Many regulars give him triangles as their tips! And if Misumi isn't working at the cafe, he's helping out as a mover because he's quick and strong (like we saw in HaGT), or he is helping out the local mailman. Because the mailman is growing older in age, Misumi takes it upon himself to help him deliver the rest of the mail so that the sweet old man can go home early. Misumi is always seen running around the neighbourhood with the mailbag!

I know this will sound weird, but I think Banri would fare well as a tutor. Knowing that he can just flip through a textbook once and immediately know what to do, I think it would do everyone good if he helped tutor those who struggle. Although I bash Banri a lot (as a joke) I am still able to see that he cares very much for others. He has rarely struggled in his life and clearly doesn't understand the hardships of the other members when they can't seem to do this or that, so he does his best to put himself in their shoes so he knows what he can do to help others who are struggling much the same. So Tsumugi helps him get a tutoring gig, and he hits it off right away. It's impressive really, how he's able to help students understand concepts they once thought they would never be able to get and it makes Banri happy. Banri is someone who wishes to help others-- he even says that he wants to help Mankai grow by bringing back the knowledge he learns at Veludo Arts. And I don't think he'd need the money, so he donates most of it to the Mankai funds.

Is it cliche of me to put Juza in a bakery? You know, sweets, confectionaries. BREAD. God, knowing how Juza grew up with a loving mom who almost always baked sweets for him and Kumon makes me want to cry. I love them so much. Anyways, he'd be a little clumsy in the back kitchen so I think he would just stick to decorating pastries and mini cakes and all that. It's a very curious thing to watch as a customer, a young, mean looking man scrunching his eyebrows as he puts a smiley face on a cupcake. It's cute. There's also another part of me that wants to see him work as an apprentice for shūji, or traditional Japanese calligraphy. Knowing that Juza studied it when he was younger (and that's why his signature is nice), it would definitely be pretty cool for him to do scrolls and stuff. It's a tough job though, considering the art of Japanese calligraphy is an important thing, and every stroke and word you write counts. It's a beautiful art form though, and Juza could make a pretty penny out of commissions.

After learning about journalling from Izumi, Taichi most definitely applied to work at a stationary shop. He's a bit clumsy with it, but he's got the spirit and that's all that matters! Strangely enough, this is one of the rare times where he isn't actively vying for attention, but for some reason he gets it a lot here. It's not like he minds or anything, but please, ladies, quiet down ^^; He is a favourite in the workplace though since he's so energetic and is always eager to help out customers; especially the old grandmas who are looking for gifts to give their grandchildren. The old ladies love him too, and they pamper him a lot much to his bashful enjoyment. And since his coworkers know that he loves journalling so much, they give him a lot of extra stock to bring home so that he can share it with Izumi and Omi! On a less serious note, he'd probably do public dance battles outside with his friends to get a quick buck.

Man... Omi would work at a bakery too. Most likely he would work with Juza because that would make sense, and both of their presences at the bakery shop would attract a lot of attention. Two, hulking dudes working at a bakery shop? Count me in pls. He'd be the one working at the back kitchen, baking everything and such. I would have also liked to put him in a restaurant, but considering that you can't become a sous chef or even a head chef until years later (due to the hierarchy and training), I don't think I want him to do that. He's already studying to become a business major after all so it would be difficult to juggle two separate things to study for. He would also work great as a photographer, but he doesn't do any taxing jobs unless it's for Mankai or very close friends. His friends always pay him too much, but they insist he keeps the money (which he puts into Mankai funds) and as compensation from Sakyo, the older man lets Omi indulge in buying expensive ingredients for that night's dinner.

Why is Sakyo working so hard? I'm getting worried. He works as Mankai's accountant and is part of the Yakuza; those are already two stressful things to work for. He has so much to do and there's always a lot of plate considering he manages a lot of Mankai with Matsukawa and Izumi, and on top of that he always acts as Mankai's Papa, Accountant, and Grumpy Old Man at the End of the Street. And when he isn't doing anything at Mankai, Patriarch Izumida calls him in for a task to do at Ginsenkai or the area they patrol. He also owns a freakin' diner that is under Ginsenkai's care like?? wtf Sakyo. He works so hard, spends tireless days to help keep Mankai afloat and it makes my heart hurty </3 Sakyo was my first crush so I can't help but worry a little and he's my comfort character whenever I'm way too engrossed at looking at Omi's huge bahonkerz so pls... Sakyo take care of urself I'm begging. Also most of the money he earns goes to his family, and the rest is for Mankai's funds.

Tsumugi on the other hand would stay as a tutor since it's canon! Sure, he has a bit of competition now that he's helped Banri enter the tutoring scene, but he's still got his loyal students to take care of. He is a very diligent worker and is very smart so working out problems is nothing too hard for him. He cares for each and every student he has, writing personalized study outlines for them as well as keeping notes on them with what they're struggling on, what they're excelling at, and even takes notes on their study habits and how long their attention lasts for until they need to take a break. Tsumugi makes sure that he is teaching his students properly and cares for them a lot. If not tutoring, he is helping at the local Veludo flower boutique and is very popular there. He helps create a lot of bouquets with deep meanings, but sometimes those bouquets he makes are gifting to him right after, lmao

Ugh as for Tasuku, knowing how good he is at fixing things, he would be great at an electronics store or a mechanics shop. He has a natural talent at fixing things and I can only assume it's because as a child, he really loved tinkering with items that were laying around the house. Plus, knowing that he has an older brother, he probably had a lot of Gundam sets laying around that sparked his interest in building things. You've seen him fix a lot of things right? To his motorcycle, his car, the television, my heart, omfg he can do it all like wtf. He becomes so skilled at fixing cars that he somehow acquires the skill to soup them up too?? When did those big ass rims get there? Where the hell did those damn hydraulics come from? That sort of thing. God he would look so sexy in a classic Ford Mustang </3 On the other hand, I think he would be great at becoming an acting coach. He might give Yuzo a run for his money.

It's canon that Hisoka has a job, but no one really knows what it is I think. I believe he would be a mattress tester! Remember that backstage story with the All Male Lap Pillow Competition or whatever? Hisoka is basically a connoisseur at all things soft and comfortable because he chose Izumi's lap as the most comfortable. He said it was so soft (god I wish I were him) that he could fall asleep and he did!!! Absolutely amazing. With his picky sleeping choices, Hisoka is able to tell whether this or that mattress prototype is good to go or needs some working on. The benefits to this job is that he gets to sleep a lot too because of course, they need to see if the mattress is good enough to sleep on!! Of course he gets paid in money, but since his managers know that he loves marshmallows, they pay him in that too.

Does Homare really need a part-time job? He's basically a renowned writer, it's just that Mankai seems ignorant to the fact. Tsuzuru and Muku has found a whole bunch of his books in the library for goodness sake so of course he's making mad bank! In HaGT he had a business meeting with a publisher/editor so you can't really tell me that he isn't good at his job because if he's having international meetings?? UHM. Of course he's famous literally what is he at Mankai for? The Found Family??? GOD OF COURSE you can stay Homare I love you so much. But seriously, he is super rich, and because he loves Mankai so much, he helps out and chips in to fill the Mankai funds so that they can stay afloat.

And here we have Azuma. I am not going to lie, but I am very protective over Azuma when it comes to his part-time job. Azuma was lonely for a huge chunk of life, unable to fill the void where his family used to sit in his heart. So he picked up skincare, and then he picked up cuddling/escort. His job in the past was full of false security and fake love that would never seal the cracks in his body, but when he found Mankai, something was different. He felt like he belonged somewhere. Especially after Nocturnality, it's obvious that Azuma has finally found his home. So I don't want him to go back to his cuddling/escort job;;; but if he wants to work again, I think being a skincare consultant would be really good! Since his skin is so flawless, many customers would flock to him for advice and the best products to use. His gentle voice and soothing caress as he rubs cream into his customer's skin is hypnotizing, and he shares his skincare routine with anyone who is willing to spend the time, effort, and money into making their skin look pretty like his.

[berryshiara]

Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi Chapter 1 Unexpected Things

AO3 Link How best to approach a problem? And by the Goddess... What to wear? Fen makes good on her promise to visit Vanguard XPress in Kari's behalf... Our story continues... Sleep… when she awoke despite the interruptions by Kari, Fen felt good… really good. With a sigh she stretched leisurely and sighed, there was something cathartic about making her home a better place.

During the stretch she found a companion in bed with her. Ludis…

“Hey…” She said rolling towards them and pushing on broad shoulders. “What do you think you are doing in my bed?”

A paw came up on the far side as Ludis rolled on their back towards her, pushing with one paw on the bed, offering the other in a submissive gesture.

“Don’t you play nice with me buster.” She half heartedly grumbled when they rolled over and pushed their face against her, giving Fen a light buzz. The buzz grew in intensity as they expressed their excitement for her to finally be awake.

“Wah!” She pulled her face away with a frown, pushing the over exuberant hulk back with both hands. “Stop, stop it… Goddess.” She grumbled but just as quickly sighed when her Fenris thumped down on the bed beside her, resting the curve of it’s big face on her shoulder.

Fen stared at Ludis only briefly. “You really should not be up here.” Rolling towards her captured arm she wrapped the free one around Ludis and let her body rest against theirs, cheek pressed against a warm shoulder. “I’m in too good of a mood to be upset.” She admitted with a deep sigh. Ludis lay there seemingly content in Fen’s embrace, their mechanical legs stilling on the bed, the red glow of their face softening. She sighed again pressing her brow to their short neck.

For a long moment they stayed that way, Ludis laying quietly as Fen held them… a learned behavior that Fen was grateful for. “Where were you when I was invaded this morning by a giant?” She asked, her fingers playing over the pocked marks on Ludis’ paws, time left its mark on all things…

Ludis remained unforthcoming to her question. With a tight squeeze to the barrel of their chest Fen unrolled and pushed the FENRIS mech just enough to free herself. She didn’t have the heart to bully it off the bed, something that wasn’t a worry any way. The moment Fen’s feet made the floor Ludis was up, in fact Ludis beat her to the door. Its face glowing intensely bright with excitement. As if to prove her belief in its anthropomorphic performance, Ludis did a little dance against the door, putting a paw on it then backing up and spinning in a circle before looking back at Fen expectantly.

“Okay, yes. I got it.” Reaching for her omnitool and slipping it on as she made for the door. When another paw came up to the door she barked discouragement at him. “NO!” Grumbling softly afterwards “Don’t do that” Already the door held marks of their passing, gouges where mechanical toes had scarred the cheap material. “I swear, between you and Kari I can’t keep a decent door.” She was still grumbling about it when they made it to the kitchen where the early morning meeting had been held. Her cup of cold coffee on the small table a reminder of promises made…

Pursing her lips she plucked it up, swirled it thoughtfully and then turned back to the bedroom. Ludis sat back on metallic haunches as she brushed past them again.

“What does one wear to impress a Batarian business man?” Fen asked her four legged friend as she took a long drink of the cold coffee and inspected the wardrobe objectively.

Honestly did she really care to impress him? Was she looking to beguile him into doing what she wanted? Did she wish to have him beholden to her? Or terrify him into compliance?

Setting the coffee down she let her fingers run through the choices, feeling the fabrics as she thought about what it was she wanted to accomplish in this meeting?

“No… no…” Blue fingers paused, slipping against silk that drew a smile, pulling the dress out she held it against her body as that smile grew. Fingers caressed the black silk, down her body to the short hem of the dress. Her mind jumping to that night in Afterlife, when a certain someone approached her with an almost unheard clearing of their throat. An uncertain request by an unsure maiden… Fen had almost dismissed her without even looking up, she remembered feeling annoyed that the hulk that stood in front of her blocked her view. That is until she focused on what the wall was… powerful thighs, leading to slender hips, strong abs, broad shoulders before finally meeting hesitant blue… eyes.

Her skin tingled as she thought about her friend, gorgeous, powerful… perfection.

Pressing her lips together Fen put that dress back with a shake of her head “I don’t want to ruin that memory.”

Giving the dress a final caress Fen sighed. Really what did she want to do to this Batarian besides make it clear that Jessa was her own person? But was she? Batarians were known to be slavers… did she have the information needed to approach this objectively?

Gold eyes shifted to the slim shoulder of that little black dress, awakening a shimmer of dancing fish in her chest and stomach. Honestly, when it came to Pallikári could she be objective at all?

##

Just as promised Foínix came to Vanguard XPress; who’s motto was Anything, Anywhere, for the right price. On Omega that really did mean anything… Like most businesses on this shithole it had two faces. That which provided a legitimate service - moving goods and messages, the second.. included bodies - living and dead, drugs of all kinds, … in hell, nothing was sacred.

Dressed in a black on black outfit pants suite she stepped through the front door with Ludis at her side.

Jess was at the front desk to welcome her, her smile warm and genuine.

“Can I help you?”

“Hello.” Foínix took up a comfortable pose on the desk leaning a little in towards Jess resting an arm on the low partition to one side. She took up a posture that both exposed herself and displayed it. With just the right tip of her jaw she greeted Fen’s, Jess.

Jess blinked at her, no doubt trying to figure out what about her body language was bothering her... and how best to politely decline; but her request was not for the woman at the desk, but rather to her Batarian boss. Like a peacock with extravagant plumage spread, Fen waited for him to take notice. That she was offering this display to the lowly front desk worker would make them respond to her silent offer all the quicker, after all… they were the master, anything offered in their establishment, belonged to them first. Batarians were fun like that… the wrong twitch meant the difference between insult and matrimony…

Jess blinked at her even as she leaned in, a confused look touched the humans eyes and ever so briefly her lips just before she returned the smile. “I’m good, and you?”

Though she was not there to test Kari’s human, it sort of worked out that way, and her response was heartening. A human who was not so easily enticed by another Asari meant that they were not doing it for the novelty.

“I am doing well, thank you.” A little impatient she gave a final silent request, shifting off the partition Fen leaned forward into Jess’s space.

As if reeled in, the back door opened… she gave a brief glance to Vath, assessing him and their safety. He carried himself strong, with exposed arms, and a form fitting top.

“What is it we can do for you?” He interrupted Jess, standing as a man in power to her right. His chest was puffed up, his head held high. He was strutting back, showing this was his domain, and that it was to him she should appeal. Not to his hired help.

Raising a brow she resisted the urge to cant her head the wrong way. Instead she gave an easy smile and lowered her chin in response. “Were I to guess, you were a man in charge. I was hoping to speak to you about a lucrative venture. There is many things I need moved… and I have little desire to do so myself. If I…”

He raised a hand as he moved from the front desk to the side gate, motioning her to come around. “Please, let us continue this discussion in my office.”

Giving a brief look to Jess she bowed her head ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

Fen wondered how much Jess dismissed in her job… but left it alone. She would be setting some clear boundaries soon enough for the Batarian business man.

"Wait..." He held his hand up when he caught sight of her FENRIS.

"Ludis, sit." Pointing to a spot just outside the gate. Her mech came to that exact point and looking up at her, plunked its haunches right on it. "Stay." She rubbed the rim of his head and let him buzz the back of her hand as she rubbed the back of her fingers against his face.

Looking up she gave a look to the Batarian before he dropped his arm and then led the way to his office.

##

Vath’s office was surprisingly… perfect.

It’s presentation was so well done that it left very little to imagination... There was a picture frame on his desk, its contents rotating through several captured memories, most of them very proud men showing their overly large guns, and the poor animals they had hunted to death.

A few personal items, not one of which had anything to do with his big game hunting. That actually surprised her. There were no stuffed animals or pieces of them mounted as trophies. . . His desk was tidy but showed a functioning work space rather than a picture perfect one. The furniture was not ostentatious, nor something that would have made clients uncomfortable.

The space was so maintained it felt like it belonged in a magazine.

Vath stepped into the room and turned sitting on the desk while motioning for her to take a seat.

While giving the illusion of being courteous he was taking a very dominant position, both by remaining in her space, and by keeping his head higher than hers. Honestly though, being a short woman, it was not hard to do.

Playing the game, Foínix took the offered seat.

“Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Or something stronger?” He motioned to the neat little set of decorative decanted alcoholic beverages sitting in an alcove.

“Thank you, no. I am not here to play a perfectly poised game. I want to make a deal that will benefit us both, but I have very specific conditions that must be met before we can get down to making money.”

The Batarian shifted, his body expressing reservation, and a little curiosity.

“I thought about ways I could get what I want. Beguiling you does not appeal to me, nor does appealing to your vanity, which I would quickly find exhausting. I also thought about terrifying you to get what I want, but I feel that is a shallow one time trick that will do little good unless I am truly willing to kill you and replace you.” She looked at him as she revealed all this. A quirk to her lips when he stiffened. She made a soothing gesture. “I was merely covering my options. I have no intention on following on any of the aforementioned ideas. While you are not the best of men, you are what Father calls a necessary evil… Having covered all that, I come to but one option, I want you to give me what I want, so that you can make lots of money doing what I want you to do.”

To his credit Vath remained perched on the desk, studying her. Thick lips pursed as he chewed on her words. Like his room he was very careful in studying the case presented to him, before he laughed and then stood up to circle around the desk, plopping into his chair he leaned forward, elbows on the desktop.

Fen had a feeling she would have lost a week’s worth of credits if she had made the bet that this was not Vath’s true office.

“Well, you have my attention. Tell me what these conditions are so we can get to the good bits!”

“I want to know if you actually own papers on Jessa Pell, and if you do, I want you to tear them up.”

“Pell…” His brow furrowed, all four of his eyes narrowing as he struck a haughty pose. Slave ownership was a touchy subject with the Hegemony, most Batarians felt it was their ancestral right to own, buy and sell others as a commodity. “Why Pell specifically? I have slips on nearly all my workers.”

“I have a vested interest… I am not here to say you have to give up your slaving ways, but I do need Jessa to be released from any contracts you may have on her… and I need her to be free in every way imaginable.”

“Ok, those are the conditions, what is the business opportunity I was promised that would be worth this… investment.” He sat back stroking the coarse hairs on his chin.

“I have lots of merch that I have no need for. I sell it to you at a considerable discount, and you take whatever profit there is to be made.”

“What merch.”

Fen raised her omnitool leaning forward so that she could share the information with Vath.

Looking over the list for a few minutes, he grunted. “How often do you get these… shipments.”

“When I do you will be the first to know.”

“Payment?”

“Thirty percent.”

“Twenty.” He countered, his eyes narrowing.

She shifted. “Twenty eight.”

“Twenty five.” He came back quickly, a playful smile touching thick lips.

Fen pretended to think about the number before speaking. “And Jessa’s papers.”

“Deal.”

“You will add a note to your personal file after you send me all you have on Ms. Pell.” Opening the screen up on her omni-tool Fen flicked a file in his direction.

Vath grunted, his brows drawing tight before one set of eyes raised to look at her over his device. “Is this a threat?”

Fen stood up and straightened her bodice. “To a successful & wiley business man such as yourself, it is a friendly reminder. Who owns Jessa Pell now?” She asked.

After a moment of silence and moving of documents between their devices he gave nod to her. “You do.” Standing he leaned forward on his desk, hands placed flat, neck extended jaw at a sassy jaunt as he wore a toothy grin. “And before you destroy those documents, I would gladly tell you why you should keep them… over drinks and dinner.”

Fen looked up from her omni-tool to see the offer he gave her, surprise touching her face before she could hide it.

@maskydoolovesmasseffect @maskydoo-main id like to thank masky for their kind encouragement, and what seems unending generosity. Thanks~

[aion-rsa]

The Best Comics of 2020

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

It has been a year, hasn’t it?

The year started with such tenuous promise, and is ending the same way: slivers of hope among rivers of misery. But even with all the chaos, all the changes forced by the pandemic and that were coming anyway, we still got some incredible comics in 2020. 

Let us be abundantly clear: every work of art made in the last year is a small miracle. Every comic creator who put irons in the fire in a year that certainly didn’t lack fires deserves gratitude and commendation. Picking 20 comics doesn’t do justice to the herculean work and dedication that everyone who works in comics demonstrated – from the creators, to the back office folks who kept the trains running on time and let us know they were coming, to the people who actually put the books in our hands, we should be immensely grateful to all of them. 

To those creators we say: Thank you for giving us a few minutes on Wednesdays (or Tuesdays) to escape…all this. 

With that said, there really were some excellent books, and we’re very excited to talk about the best comics of 2020.

20. Loneliness of the Long Distance Cartoonist

Adrian Tomine (Writer/Artist)

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Adrian Tomine is here to share his sadness with readers and inspire it in anyone who has ever tried to make art and present it to the world. In what might be his greatest work so far, the cartoonist collects his own diary comics about being an artist and trying to release a book.

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Cartoonist is painfully raw, uncomfortably authentic, and impressively hilarious. It takes guts to make yourself the butt of the joke and to do it so well, but there is such heart and humor here that it’ll speak to any reader whether or not you’ve ever had the (mis)fortune to make your own comics or not. 

19. Witch Hat Atelier 

Kamome Shirahama (Writer/Artist)

Speaking of wonderful manga, this series is one of the best books on shelves in any genre, format, or language. It’s hard to overstate how inventive and imaginative Witch Hat Atelier is but for the sake of this list we’ll try.

Kamome Shirahama paints a wonderful world where magic is real but only a select few can use it. Coco is our heroine and when she accidentally learns the secret behind using magic she’s inducted into a witch’s coven and is thrown into a vibrant world of sorcery, spells, and uneasy friendship with her fellow students. 

18. Daredevil

Chip Zdarsky (Writer); Marco Checchetto, Mike Hawthorne, Francesco Mobili, Jorge Fornes (Artists); Marcio Menyz, Mattia Iacono, Nolan Woodard (Colorists); Clayton Cowles (Letterer)

Chip Zdarsky’s Matt Murdock is terrific. His Wilson Fisk is Hall of Fame.

Fisk is attempting to go legit after discovering as Mayor of New York City that there is a much larger pond he could be swimming in. But the big fish in that pond (the Stromwyns – think Marvel’s Koch Brothers) don’t much get along with someone as insignificant as Fisk. What they do to him, and what Fisk does back, is incredible. 

The art on this run has been the real deal. Jorge Fornes and Marco Checchetto have handled the bulk of the pencils this year, and their dramatically divergent styles do a great job of showing the two sides of Murdock’s world – Fornes excels at the quiet investigatory work that Daredevil does, while Checchetto blows the doors off of some monster action set pieces. No lie, Stilt Man has never looked this good. This run is shaping up to be one of the best Daredevil stories of all time, a very high bar to clear.

17. The Department of Truth

James Tynion IV (Writer), Martin Simmonds (Artist)

What happens in a world where all conspiracy theories are actually true? Or that reality actually warps to accommodate new “truths” as they come into being? Such is the premise of The Department of Truth, which delivers on all the unsettling promise of its premise. The fact that it tells its story in a way that aesthetically calls to mind Alan Moore and Bill Sienkiewicz’s 1988 collaboration Shadowplay: The Secret Team, which told some unsavory details about how the CIA conducted some real world foreign policy only adds to the eerie feel.

With more and more people getting internet brain poisoning thanks to wilder and wilder conspiracy theories somehow becoming mainstream every day, The Department of Truth feels like one of the more timely comics of 2020. We only wish it could be a little less timely in some ways, though.

16. The Green Lantern Season Two

Grant Morrison (Writer), Liam Sharp (Artist), Steve Oliff (Colorist), Steve Wands (Letterer)

Grant Morrison and Liam Sharp have been quietly making one of the best superhero comics in decades over at DC, and although we can’t quite believe we’re saying this, it’s about Hal Jordan. The most boring Green Lantern of all has come to life in this trippy, experimental, and beautiful series which transcends space and time, showcasing the best of what Morrrison and Sharp do.

If you think that superhero comics are all the same, The Green Lantern will change your mind (and likely expand it) as Hal adventures through Sharp’s sprawling and stunning cosmos.

15. Immortal Hulk

Al Ewing (Writer); Joe Bennett, Mike Hawthorne, Butch Guice, Nick Pitarra, Javier Rodriguez (Pencilers); Ruy Jose, Belardino Brabo, Mark Morales, Tom Palmer, Marc Deering (Inkers); Paul Mounts, Matt Milla (Colorists); Cory Petit (Letterer)

Over at Marvel, Al Ewing and Joe Bennett have been equally delighting and horrifying readers with this reinvention of Bruce Banner and the hulking hero he becomes. This is about as close to a horror comic as a mainline superhero title can get as the team delve into the multiple manifestations of Hulk and the man behind them.

Just like The Green Lantern, The Immortal Hulk both reconsiders and revisits the lore that has made the character so iconic, and also features an impressive collection of Hulk-centric characters from throughout history. 

14. Shadow of the Batgirl

Sarah Kuhn (Writer), Nicole Goux (Artist)

DC Comics has been doing a great job bringing new visions of some of their best loved characters to the spotlight and Cass Cain got that treatment this year in this gorgeous graphic novel. Taking the one-time Batgirl and teaming her up with Barbara Gordon’s Oracle was a genius move, but the real magic here comes from the sweet natured take on the hero that Sarah Kuhn and Nicole Goux offer up.

Shadow of the Batgirl is a superhero comic with real heart and a look that feels far more like an indie comic than anything coming out of the big two. Just lovely!

13. Hedra

Jesse Lonergan (Writer/Artist)

Hedra is unlike anything we’ve ever seen before, and probably the same goes for you. It’s a completely silent comic, but it’s a massively dense, intricate storytelling experience. It’s light and cartoony, but it’s got panels that would look at home in an old Wally Wood comic. It’s got so many panels, and yet it’s full of moments that will take your breath away.

Lonergan manages the pace and flow of the storytelling so well that you have to experience it yourself to fully appreciate it. Hedra is a beautiful, smart, fascinating comic.

12. John Constantine: Hellblazer

Si Spurrier (Writer); Aaron Campbell, Matias Bergara (Artists); Jordie Bellaire (Colorist); Adita Bidakyar (Letterer)

Si Spurrier doesn’t seem like the type who gets mad often, but his John Constantine was fucking pissed, and goddamn if it wasn’t the best Hellblazer comic in decades. This too-brief run of comics starring everyone’s favorite dirtbag street mage was as much about England being a dumpster fire as it was about Constantine being a dumpster fire, and that low-key seethe gave this book an edge that many of Constantine’s more recent exploits have been missing.

Campbell and Bergara are gifted at depicting grimy fantasy, and Bellaire continues to be one of the greatest colorists who ever lived. In a sane, just world, a second volume of John Constantine: Hellblazer is being planned as we speak. Let’s hope.

11. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin

Kevin Eastman, Peter Laird (Writers); Esau & Isaac Escorza (Artists); Luis Antonio Delgado (Colorist), Shaun Lee (Letterer)

When we saw a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic called The Last Ronin, we had no idea they meant Frank Miller Ronin. The art on this comic is astounding. 

The story is almost irrelevant, in part because it’s only just getting going (only one oversized issue has been released at the time of this writing). But it’s excellent set up – the last living Ninja Turtle assaults a city controlled by the Foot Clan to try and end their long battle once and for all. It’s set in the future, and heavily influenced by the cyberpunk ninja aesthetic so common to the genre, but filtered through a strong Miller lens that makes it a joy to discover.

10. Captain America: The End

Erik Larsen (Writer/Artist), Dono Sánchez-Almara (Colorist), Joe Caramagna (Letterer)

The superhero comic one shot is an underrated – even lost – art form these days. Annuals are often fill-in stories, and unless Marvel or DC are putting out an oversized issue to herald a line wide relaunch or a similar event, it’s rare that you get a nice thick single issue telling a self contained story of any real “importance.” Fortunately, there’s Captain America: The End.

Marvel’s The End line is exactly what it sounds like: an excuse for creators to tell not-really-in-continuity “final” stories for the biggest Marvel heroes. And while Captain America: The End ostensibly presents itself as the “final” Captain America story, it’s way more fun than that. Erik Larsen uses this opportunity to pay tribute to Cap’s greatest creative periods: specifically Jack Kirby’s two-fisted, acrobatic stint on the character in the 1960s, and his socially conscious and psychedelic late ’70s return to the book.

Wall to wall action, with Kirby-esque idea factory energy and dynamism at the forefront, Captain America: The End is one of the most purely fun superhero issues in years. But don’t mistake this for an exercise in nostalgia, as Larsen blends timely (and timeless) messages that help sum up what made Captain America great in the first place, and why we’ll never truly see the “last” Cap story.

9. Maison Ikkoku

Rumiko Takahashi (Writer/Artist)

We can’t make enough noise about how great Viz has been doing recently at making some of the harder to find manga classics available to bigger audiences. This lovely reprint of Rumiko Takahashi’s joyful slice of life comic technically came out decades ago, but most Western comics fans likely only came to it via this new printing.

Maison Ikkoku follows the misadventures of a young apartment building manager and the tenants that she has to keep in check. In turns sweet, silly, and saucy, this is truly a masterwork of manga that you must read. 

8. Billionaire Island

Mark Russell (Writer), Steve Pugh (Artist), Chris Chuckry (Colorist), Rob Steen (Letterer)

This is not Mark Russell, Steve Pugh, and Chris Chuckry’s first time on our lists, but it’s definitely the angriest they’ve been since showing up on here. If we’re really being fair, it’s entirely deserved. 

Billionaire Island is a wild fantasy story definitely based on nothing in reality about the world’s uber wealthy, who control the world, building their own island to ride out climate change while the poors all die off and suffer on the mainland. It follows a reporter with the Miami Herald, and an ex-mercenary who lost his family to Aggrocorp’s sterility experiments in Angola, as they try and bring down the aforementioned billionaires, are trapped on the island, and work to escape. 

It is every bit as hilarious as you would expect from the team who brought us The Flintstones, but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there in Russell, Pugh and Chuckry’s earlier work. That’s probably because of the villains – The Flintstones skewered society, while Billionaire Island takes aim at the shittiest people in the world. Several of them by name.

Despite the undercurrent of anger, Billionaire Island is still packed with genuinely hilarious moments. Pugh’s sight gags remain incredible, and the comedic timing on display is outstanding. I had high expectations for Billionaire Island coming into it, and it exceeded all of them.

7. The Magic Fish

Trung Le Nguyen (Writer/Artist)

Feel like crying a lot? Because The Magic Fish got almost everyone we’ve seen read it. It’s an incredibly powerful yet quiet comic about a 13 year old coming to terms with who he is and how to talk with his parents about it. 

Tien, the aforementioned 13 year old, is a first generation Vietnamese-American with a crush on a friend and a mother who is still processing her move to the States and the family she left behind. Much of the story is about Tien trying to figure out how to broach the subject with his mother.

What stands out about The Magic Fish is how Nguyen tells the story. Much of it is is told by retellings of fairy tales – two modifications of the Cinderella story, and one of The Little Mermaid. The colors are especially effective in setting up the mood and tone of the sections of story, elegantly communicating so much about Tien’s emotional and intellectual state. And the fashion and hair are magnificent. Nguyen draws Alan Davis-good hairstyles. 

Nguyen’s The Magic Fish is accessible, deeply moving, and beautiful, a book that should be shared with friends.

6. Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen

Matt Fracion (Writer), Steve Lieber (Artist), Nathan Fairbairn (Colorist), Clayton Cowles (Letterer)

It’s probably good that the prank war issue, where Timmy Olsen stole the wheel off the Batmobile for Youtube clout, was published last December, because otherwise this entire entry would be the Den of Geek reciting bits to each other like this was comics Anchorman. And all that time we’d spend telling each other we sure have created some…content…would distract from the fact that Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen is one of the nicest, most thoughtful, best put-together comics in years. 

Beneath all of the gags – and there are a ton – Fraction, Lieber, Fairbairn, and Cowles put together a deceptively complex character study of Jimmy, Superman and Metropolis. This is a book that is as much about what Jimmy Olsen means to the people of Metropolis as it is about Dex-Starr puking blood on the remnants of Jimmy’s Gorilla City wedding, or the army of Kevins attacking him.

Lieber and Fairbairn were the perfect choices for art on this story: Lieber’s facial expressions and Fairbairn’s bright color palette sell every joke and set every mood that the story requires, and the way the creators play with time and information release is masterful. Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen is essential reading, both because of its importance to the Superman universe as a whole, and because it’s just that damn funny.

5. Once and Future (READER’S CHOICE!)

Kieron Gillen (Writer), Dan Mora (Artist), Tamra Bonvillain (Colorist), Ed Dukeshire (Letterer)

Turns out letting Dan Mora draw his way through an English lit degree is a really good idea.

Joking aside, our readers have excellent taste, naming Once and Future their top pick for comic of the year.

Kieron Gillen takes the “story about a story” formula, smashes several more stories into the first one, and then lets Dan Mora and Tamra Bonvillain go ham on the whole thing, and the resulting comic is breathlessly exciting, and gorgeous to look at. It remixes Arthurian legend and this year added a sprinkle of Beowulf and developed the magic a little more, while juxtaposing that rich fantasy world with the mundanity of things like a senior living facility.

Mora draws monsters exceptionally well, and Bonvillain gives several scenes an ominous glow that sets a hell of a tone. Once and Future is a great pick by our readers, and is comfortably one of the best books of the year.

4. Dracula, Motherf**ker!

Alex de Campi (Writer/Letterer), Erica Henderson (Artist)

You may not realize that you need a grindhouse ‘70s story about Dracula’s brides being extremely done with his shit, but trust us, you need Dracula, Motherf**ker! in your life.

This book isn’t especially long, nor is it terribly complex. We get a lot of echoes of the original Dracula story updated to a dingy 1970s Los Angeles, and a lot of what you’d expect from a grindhouse horror comic, but it’s done exceptionally well by two incredibly talented storytellers. 

In retrospect, it’s hard to believe this is the first time de Campi and Henderson have ever worked together. Dracula, Motherf**ker! felt a lot like someone discovering peanut butter cups for the first time – there’s that dawning realization as you’re reading that it really works well, and then a secondary shock that nobody had ever done it before.

De Campi is a pro’s pro and a veritable cluster bomb of ideas. Henderson is a gifted sequential artist who gets to show off her mastery of color art as a storytelling device in these pages. The final package is outstanding. 

3. Far Sector

N.K. Jemisin (Writer), Jamal Campbell (Artist), Deron Bennett (Letterer)

The quality level of Far Sector is almost impossible to believe. Jamal Campbell doesn’t have an enormous comics resume, and this is N.K. Jemisin’s debut comic story. And yet the skill evident in every panel screams that this was made by a team of master craftsmen. 

Far Sector is the story of Jo Mullein, a new Green Lantern with an experimental, self-charging ring, dispatched to a floating megacity run jointly by three alien races; the Nah, a group of spacefaring fishtailed/winged bipeds; the keh-Topli, a group of carnivorous plants; and the @at, a race of sentient ethereal memelords. Jo is there at the request of the ruling council to investigate the City Enduring’s first murder in centuries. 

Her investigation is our way into Jemisin and Campbell’s vibrant imaginations.

This is a stunning book to look at – at least once an issue, Campbell draws something completely mind-bending. And Jemisin writes with the easy confidence and command of the form that people who have been writing comics for 50 years can’t match: there isn’t a wasted word on a single page of this entire series. It’s elegantly topical, stunning to look at, and a ton of fun to read. Far Sector is handily one of the greatest Green Lantern stories of all time.

X of Swords

Jonathan Hickman, Tini Howard, Leah Williams, Benjamin Percy, Vita Ayala, Zeb Wells, Ed Brisson, Gerry Duggan (Writers); Pepe Larraz, Carlos Gomez, Viktor Bogdanovic, Matteo Lolli, Carmen Carnero, Rod Reis, Phil Noto, R.B. Silva, Mahmud Asrar, Leinil Francis Yu, Stefano Casselli, Joshua Cassara (Artists); Marte Gracia, Israel Silva, Matt Wilson, Edgar Delgado, David Curiel, Nolan Woodard, Sunny Gho, Guru-eFX, Rachelle Rosenberg (Colorists); Clayton Cowles, Joe Caramagna, Cory Petit, Ariana Maher, Travis Lanham, Joe Sabino (Letterers)

X-Men fans are not commonly known for our penchant for consensus. We can and will argue over everything, from who’s a better partner for Cyclops to which story arc in the ‘90s was actually rock bottom. So when you get near unanimity that X of Swords is the best X-Men crossover since Inferno, you can pretty much take that to the bank. 

The culmination of the first phase of the X-universe’s post House of X/Powers of X plan, X of Swords tied all the mutant comics back together to take on a couple of the biggest ideas dropped in and immediately after HoXPoX. It did something that was nearly impossible: it paid off a year’s worth of stories from ten different series, with satisfying climaxes for more than a handful of storylines. 

It did this in part because several creators are making the jump to superstardom. Larraz somehow managed to do even better work than on House of X, delivering massive beat after massive beat in the final issue of the crossover. Tini Howard spent a year making Excalibur the best book in the line, and wove her plot threads through the crossover she co-shepherded (with Boss X or whatever they’re calling Hickman) to give us a foundational Otherworld and Captain Britain story. All the while, Howard also made sure that this Excalibur-centric crossover paid homage to the first Excalibur series – packing it full of magical silliness and genuine heart. Vita Ayala only got one issue in the crossover, but that issue will go down as one of Storm’s best stories of all time. And Joshua Cassara drew two issues of fights and competitions, and dropped multiple staggering spreads.

The X-Men line as a whole is the best it’s been in decades, and there’s no better proof of that than in X of Swords.

Blue in Green

Ram V (writer), Anand RK (Artist), Aditya Bidikar (Letterer)

Fiction is especially tough when the storyteller isn’t up to the subjects. If someone is writing a book about the smartest person in the world, the writer has to be smart enough to believably put brilliance in that character’s mouth. If someone is making a comic about a drug that makes everyone indescribably beautiful, then the art has to be angelic, or the book falls apart. 

But when a creative team IS up to the task, the end result can be sublime. That’s what Ram V, Anand RK and Aditya Bidikar gave us with Blue in Green. A comic about jazz that so perfectly evokes the form of its subject matter that I’m willing to bet this comic is taught in years to come. Blue in Green is incredible comics. 

Blue in Green’s story is broadly familiar: it’s the crossroads tale, where the Devil meets a gifted musician and trades the musician’s life for magnificent talent. Erik is a talented saxophonist with a rough family history who’s pissing away his talents half-heartedly teaching kids how to play. He goes home for his mother’s funeral, makes his deal, and wakes up days later, after a fugue state that included him blowing the doors off of a jazz club with his sax. Eventually, the bill comes due. 

The presentation has a uniquely loose flow to it, moving from rigid grids to collage with prose attached, with surreal, disorienting colors that match the mood of the section of story marvelously. The way the storytelling shifts from section to section, the way the form changes so that it can tell the story as much as the words or art can, is one of the most skillful feats of comics creation I’ve read in years. It’s like its own kind of visual jazz. Blue in Green is an astounding piece of comics storytelling, and I can’t wait to read what’s next from everyone involved.

The post The Best Comics of 2020 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/38KsveF

[1-800-jmsbckbrns]

‘dinner’

hc #28 || mob!stucky x sugar baby!reader

‘this is my friend, peter’

baby: can i have a friend over for dinner tonight? i really want him to meet you and buck bear 🥰💗❤️

Y/N stared at the message she sent almost an hour ago. He hadn’t read it yet, but her bundle of nerves were growing. Steve didn’t let many people come into their home without a lot of background checks. 

“Hey, we can always just hang out another time. It’s really okay, Y/N.” Peter offered a smile. Y/N softly sighed.

“But I want you to meet Stevie and Bucky. They have to meet you eventually.” 

Y/N closed her laptop and shoved it in her backpack. She didn’t think she’d need one, considering it was her last semester of college, but the workload was too heavy to not carry her books with her. She was often studying every chance she could get.

“We’ll meet. It may just be a little later. It’s gonna be okay, Y/N,” Peter said. He had always been so kind and reassuring. She couldn’t ask for a better friend, really.

PING

Y/N quickly opened her phone to read the message. Took Stevie long enough. 

stevie 🥰: That’s fine 

“You can come over for dinner!” Y/N beamed with joy. She elected to ignore the lack of emojis or affirmation. He was probably busy and didn’t have time to type. 

“Wow, okay. What time should I be there for?” Y/N looked to her watch, lips puckered to the side. 

“Come by at 7 or so. Park in front of the fountain, and make sure to be on time. Wear maroon. It’ll win Bucky over in a second flat.” Y/N let out a squeak of joy before she got up to leave. Her best friend was coming over for dinner! Everything would be great!

Or at least, that’s what Y/N was clinging to. She stood in the foyer a few hours later, hands clasped together in worry. It was nearing 7, and none of the men she needed here, were here. 

“Muffin, they’ll all be here. They’d be a fool to not show up with you looking like this,” Natasha said. She rested a hand on Y/N’s bare back. Her black dress hugged every curve, leaving very little to the imagination. 

“I know. I’m just worried is all. Tonight needs to go perfectly.” 

Out of the beautiful glass work, a car pulled up in front of the fountain. Y/N bolted out the door and waited on the front step. Peter stepped out of his car, fresh baked pie in his hand. He had been paying attention. Apple pie was Stevie’s favorite. 

“I almost got lost. Made it on the dot, though.” Peter tacked on a laugh at the end. 

He was right. It was 7 ‘o clock on the dot. 

Natasha took the pie, having the two head further in while she took care of the dessert. Y/N opted to give him a full tour. He would love the place. 

They visited almost every room, Y/N showing him what they had to offer. The most important stop was her room. Peter expected more pink, but the room was so tastefully done. Silk sheets, desk littered with both makeup and schoolwork, stacks and stacks of books on the bookshelves. It was beautiful in here, he noted as they exited the room.

Peter noticed Y/N started to check her phone more and more as they went on. Something was off, but he wouldn’t pry. He had tried once and it didn’t end well at all. She would open up when she was ready.

“And that’s the place. I know it seems like a lot, but it’s really just like every other home.” Y/N’s smile was so sweet, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her phone was gripped tight in her hand. 

While they walked down the hall, Y/N noticed Stephen standing outside of the office doors. He had a steely look on his face, but when he saw Y/N, he offered a kind smile. 

“Hi, Y/N. What can I do for you?” He would do anything for her, if he needed to. (It was his job, after all.)

“Is Steve in there? Do you know where he and Bucky are?” Stephen sighed before nodding. 

“He is. They both are, actually. They won’t be able to attend dinner, but they both urge the two of you,” he nodded to Peter briefly, “to eat and enjoy the night. They’ll try to pull themselves away if at all possible.” 

Y/N’s smile turned to a hard pout. She crossed her arms as tears welled in her eyes. 

“Tell them not to worry about it. Peter and I will just eat and go see a movie or something, if they think me and my friends aren’t worth being around.” 

It was hard to not be a brat right now. She didn’t want to act this way in front of Peter, or even Stephen. They didn’t need to see that side of her. She just couldn’t help the attitude after her hopes getting crushed. Steven and James were getting such a talking to. 

“Sweetheart, you know-” Stephen started as Y/N walked away with Peter in tow. She stopped in her tracks, daggers thrown his way. 

“I do know. Let me be upset. I’ll be home in a while.” She didn’t wipe her tear away until she was out of Stephen’s view. 

“Come on, let’s go see a movie. Get your mind off this for a while.”

The two ended up going see some scary movie. Y/N couldn’t focus one bit, knowing she had thrown a tantrum for no good reason. Stevie and Buck were just doing their job. Stevie had been upping the trade, and now that Buck had been moved up to be his personal bodyguard, where Stevie went, Buck followed. It wasn’t their fault they were providing for their family. 

“I’ll drive you home. Make sure you get home safe.” Peter pulled his car keys out when they walked out. Y/N checked her notifications. There was a text from an unknown number. 

???: Be there to pick you up in two. Wait outside. - Strange

Oh, she must have forgotten to save his phone. Y/N was a dummie sometimes.

“Stephen is on his way. You go ahead and go home. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” They hugged, and she kissed him on the cheek. Peter made it to his car without a problem. 

A sleek black car pulled up right as Peter pulled away. The windows were a bit tinted, but Stephen was not in it. Whoever was in the car was too burly to be Stephen. 

Y/N slowly started to walk away from the mysterious car. If she could just get back inside, she could-

She was stopped in her track when a sharp needle punctured her neck. She let out a cry, knees buckling under her. Two lean arms caught her before she passed out on the concrete. 

A hulking man in the driver seat watched as the woman put Y/N in the backseat. He glanced at her once to ensure she was knocked out. 

“What does the boss want with the tart anyway?” The woman shrugged as she fixed her gloves. She sat in the passenger seat before they peeled out from the theater. 

“Beats me. Quill just told me where to be and who to take,” Mantis said. She had a... knack for making people go to sleep. She was one of Quill’s best, after all. 

“Whatever. At least we’ve got her now.” Drax hoped Quill didn’t do something stupid. He was definitely known for doing such things...

author’s note: A gang rivalry upon the horizon...? Also, I was thinking of maybe doing an actual series for the mob stuff, but not with a definitive plot. More of posting HCs that start from the beginning and just stay relatively linear. Would you guys like that, or do you guys just prefer what’s going on now?

requests: open!

tags: @AACTUAALTRAASH | @ALWAYSADREAMINGOPTIMIST | @MOCHIBARNES | @RORYSHITPOSTS | @DISASTER-ROSE | @STUCKYSHEART | @LIBBYMOUSE | @GRTCHN 

[jenwaltersesq]

It was well after hours, and Ideahive, Inc. was closed for the night, but the building owner Sharon had given Jen a spare set of keys months ago so that she could do exactly this— come in on nights and weekends to work. Jen was pretty sure she was Sharon’s favorite tenant.

With a sigh, she flipped through the deposition in front of her, checking it against a profile Patsy and Scott had created, and took occasional sips from a glass of wine by her pen mug. It was easy to get wrapped up in studying, analyzing, planning, and she had all the peace and quiet she needed and more. Of course, that was when someone knocked on the door to her office.

Jen frowned. No one should be in here, and the janitorial crew wouldn’t come for a few hours. Sharon, maybe? When the visitor knocked again, she got up and answered. 

Behind the door stood a balding middle-aged man in glasses and a blue tie. “Ms. Walters, right?” Even as Jen opened her mouth to respond, he jumped right ahead, rattling off his story and walking right into the office. “I’m so sorry to barge in like this, but you’re the only person I can turn to— it’s an emergency, I need help, my—“

He stopped abruptly at the sound of Jen slamming the door behind him. She stared him down, pushing a loose curl out of her face with a directed huff. “Next time you try to pull that trick, make sure the doors to the building aren’t locked, and at least pretend to be polite long enough to make me like you.” A menacing grin spread across her face. “Now, are you going to show me your face, or do I get to hold you upside down and shake you?”

Her guest yelped and jumped back as she took a playful swipe at him. “Okay, okay, okay.” With a puff of smoke, that poor excuse for a disguise was replaced with an all too familiar, all too reddish figure.

“Mephisto,” Jen noted, unimpressed. “About time we had a proper little meeting, I guess. To what do I owe the pleasure? Tough custody battle?”

“She-Hulk,” the demon replied. “In my defense, this was not the meeting I planned. I had expected to find a woman like you out on the town on a night like this, but imagine my surprise to find you here playing the professional. And, ah, nothing of the sort, I’m afraid. But I am here with a rather— different proposition for you.” His smile gave her the impression that this was going nowhere good, even more than his mere presence.

With a roll of her eyes, Jen crossed back over to her desk and plopped down in her chair, knocking a stack of papers together. “I gotta say, you sound like just about every insurance salesman Angie kicks out of here. Have a seat.” She gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk. “But if you’re wasting my time, you’d better be ready to poof out of here fast, cause I’m still in a shakin’ mood.”

Clearing his throat, Mephisto sat down and unbuttoned his unfortunate little blazer. Jen continued to look through courtroom notes, but cast a glance over her glasses to indicate that she was listening. “It’s come to my attention that you have some experience with the various paths mortals find themselves on after death.”

Jen lifted a pen from her mug to make some revisions. “If this is some sort of mortality business, I’m gonna have to refer you to my cousin or his kid. They’re managing that scene, I stay strictly on this side of the Door.”

“Of course you do, and as fascinating as your family’s relationship with death is, I’m not here to talk about that. In fact, I’m more interested in your other experience. The first time.”

What did he know about that? Jen’s pulse began to speed up, but she settled herself quickly. Not a shadow of her reaction was visible on her face; she still focused on her work. “Go on.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a very singular woman. You died, blew right past judgement altogether, and then simply checked out of death itself as if it were a substandard hotel. I’m impressed.” There was a pause as he waited for her response, and got none. “I’m such a big fan, in fact, that I’m here to help you wrap up that pesky bit of unfinished business in the hereafter. It seems so unfair, doesn’t it, that you should have victory over death, but you couldn’t bring her with you?”

Jen couldn’t stop herself from reacting then. She set her papers aside neatly, and brought her full attention to watch the fire dance in his eyes. “Tell me what you’re offering.”

He grinned, relishing in having secured the upper hand at last, and leaned forward. “I’m offering your mother. Her life, returned.” Encouraged by her shifting expression, he continued. “You had to grow up so quickly, didn’t you, brave little Jennifer? So many years, so much joy and innocence lost in one night. And everyone has always blamed you, as much as they claim they don’t. Even you blame yourself. But I’m here to help you make it right.”

“You’re offering to bring my mother, Elaine Walters, back to life?” Jen clarified, her words careful and professional but her tone and expression betraying that she was shaken to her core. “Physically healthy and safe, in the form she was in before her death, here and now, with free will, full memory of who she is and who I am, and a psychological profile equivalent to what it was in 1989?”

“You really are a lawyer, aren’t you?” Mephisto observed playfully. “How delightful. Yes, all of that. It’s as simple as a trip to the Mall—“ he winked— “and any tampering, really, is extra work I couldn’t be bothered to do.”

“What’s the catch?” This was the challenge; to keep her wits about her, not throw herself blindly at the possibility of seeing her mom again. In the back of her mind, she noted it was a good thing this had been brought to her, not Bruce or Amadeus or really any other member of her family. “I know how much you like to make a deal.”

“Well, of course all good things come at a price. In this case, the price is simply some radiation. All of yours, to be specific.” He laughed. “You would lose all the powers and attributes associated with the She-Hulk. And that includes all versions of the She-Hulk, by the way; no more big grey monster under your bed. From where I’m standing, I’d be doing you two favors.” 

“From where you stand,” Jen echoed, leaning back and crossing her arms as her mind spun. “I… I don’t know.” Being the She-Hulk was everything to Jen; it was her lifestyle and her liberation, but what kind of person was she if she wouldn’t give it up for her mother? Wouldn’t everyone around her be safer without the threat of her grey alter ego? 

With a wave of Mephisto’s hand, an image of Elaine appeared, standing beside him, in the same T-shirt and jeans Jen remembered from the last day they were together. “Just remember, every minute you waste is a minute your mother will never get back. What’s so hard, really? How can you maintain this high-octane, fun-loving supermodel/hero shtick at the expense of your loved one?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at her mom; even though she knew it was an illusion, she felt Elaine’s eyes on her, and her focus was now on eye contact with whatever shade this was of her mom. “Why are you doing this,” she asked Mephisto slowly.

He grinned, well, devilishly. “Like I said, I’m impressed by you. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t take the opportunity to help a woman like you, my dear. But you know how these things work— nothing’s free. Hasn’t everyone who ever loved you liked you better as a human, anyways? Surely your mother would feel the same.”

She was quiet for a few minutes after that, blinking back her tears as she watched her mom and running her hand up and down her own forearm. It was her chance to fix what she’d done. But she still knew better than to cry in a negotiation. Her jaw tightened as she turned her attention back to him. “The contract,” she managed. There’s always a contract. “Can I see it?” 

The image of Elaine disappeared. Mephisto’s smile widened in victory. If she closed her eyes, she could swear it was curling over at the ends cartoonishly. “Of course.” A suitably gothic parchment scroll unrolled itself on her desk, and she blinked a couple times to focus on the text, a tight Latin script. “Just sign here, Ms. Walters.”

She pulled the contract closer and lifted it up, scanning the words. It cleared her head, even as she had to translate. This was her job. Deep breath. 

After a moment, she slid it back towards him, unsigned, her fingers pressing against the center of the page. “Actually,” she said, “I’ll need this in triplicate, on an official legal letterhead.” 

His grin faltered, bemused, but with a snap of his fingers it was done. 

She gathered up the pages, knocking them together briskly and slipping them into a file. “Perfect. Now, if you’ll just call my office between 10am and 6pm, Monday through Friday, Angie will book you an appointment later this week, and then we’ll look at my suggested revisions and discuss steps forward.” Mephisto straightened up, confused and indignant, but she pressed a flat palm into the air between them to cut him off. “Your time’s up. Get the fuck out of my office while you can still bring all your limbs with you.”

Even as mixed up as Jen was, the sight of Mephisto disappearing in another puff of smoke put a satisfied smile on her face that could keep her from spiraling for another hour, at least. She leaned back and took another sip of wine; like he said, she really was a lawyer.

[leilawhittaker]

do you think you could list out like the titles of the different sections/acts with their corresponding films/when they take place? sorry if this is like a lot i just find a lot of comfort in the fullness of the mcu and i would love to see kind of like an what the mm universe looks like ? sorry if this is weird rip

Not weird at all omg!! I’ve been meaning to post something like that! Just a heads up, the MMCU is...slightly less cinematic than the canon MCU, as a lot of the original plotlines I imagine as comics or graphic novels.

Guide

Format

So the format for this list goes like

Fic Title | MMCU Title | Media Type

For example: 

Out of the Woods | Black Widow: Out of the Woods | Movie

Means that the fic is called Out of the Woods, but if the MMCU were canon, it’d be a movie called Black Widow: Out of the Woods

If the MMCU Title is followed by (Canon) that means the fic correlates to a canon piece of material, as opposed to an original plotline. For example:

Battle Royale | Avengers (Canon) | Movie

Means that the fic Battle Royale corresponds to the Avengers, and largely follows the canon plotline of that arc. 

An asterisk at the beginning, and only one title,  means the movie exists in the MMCU, but happens as it does in canon, with no OC interference. Example:

*Black Panther | Movie 

Means there’s no corresponding fic or replacement fic for that movie (...yet), but that it still takes place within the MMCU canon. Note that I’ve only done this with movies; suffice it to say that aside from Agents of SHIELD, all MCU-based TV series are MM canon; if they aren’t listed, it’s just because I have no OCs or non-canon plotlines for them. Same goes for Marvel Shorts. As for canon tie-in comics, I haven’t read enough of them to decide which ones are MM canon or not; once I’ve read them all I’ll update this list accordingly if necessary. 

Other Notes

The list is of all fics, in chronological order, so ones that don’t focus on Leila’s arc have been marked as spin-offs. They still take place in the MMCU, and they’re placed in the list according to when they take place, they’re just not Leila-focused. (If there’s interest, I might do another version of this list organized by when things are released, rather than chronological order, EG Captain Marvel would be part of Phase 3 instead of Phase 1, Black Widow: Family Business would be listed after Endgame, etc.)

The first fic (The Kindness of Strangers, aka the first two chapters of MM on ffnet) is weird because I see it being split, with one chapter being told as a marvel short and the second one being told as a tie-in comic, with the very last scene of Leila being sent by Fury to recruit Steve also existing as a post-credit scene for CA:TFA. 

Some of these I haven’t come up with titles for yet, so I just put working titles or descriptors. AKA “Untitled AoS Replacement Fic” is obviously not called that, it’s a fic that I haven’t titled yet that serves as a replacement for Agents of SHIELD in the MMCU. 

Finally, this is all subject to change, I’m still ironing out a lot of things--for example, I may make an OC for Ant-Man, and I might go back to using MCU’s Spidey. We’ll see. (I may release a variation on this list as to what the MMCU looks like with MCU Spidey as opposed to TASM Spidey.)

Without further ado, here is the MMCU as I currently imagine it!

Mirror, Mirror Cinematic Universe

PHASE ONE

Captain America: The First Avenger | Movie

Has a post-credits scene that corresponds to the last scene of TKOS, in which Nick Fury assigns Leila to recruit Steve to help find the tesseract

Untitled Captain Marvel Fic | Captain Marvel | Movie

The OC doesn’t appear anywhere else, but they’re important to Leila’s story. (Hint: It has to do with the Patrice Joh mystery.)

The Kindness of Strangers ch. 1 | Recruitment Day | Marvel Short

Note: despite taking place about ~4-5 years before the events of The Avengers, this short is only released shortly before the movie, as a way to build up hype. 

*Iron Man | Movie

*The Incredible Hulk | Movie

*Iron Man 2 | Movie

*Thor | Movie

The Kindness of Strangers, ch. 2 | Royal Engagements (Prelude to Marvel’s The Avengers) | Tie-In Comic

The Kindness of Strangers (Last Scene) | N/A | Post-Credits Scene (CA:TFA)

Battle Royale | The Avengers (Canon) | Movie

-

PHASE TWO

Queen’s Gambit | Captain America and Snow White: Queen’s Gambit | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Leila, under Fury’s orders, tries to recruit Steve to join SHIELD as a STRIKE agent, and it leads to her and Steve solving a mysterious series of bombings together. 

SPINOFF: Untitled AoS Replacement | Agents of SHIELD | TV Miniseries

Basically takes the place of AoS as a post-Avengers show about Coulson’s SHIELD team, but with a whole different (but equally diverse) cast. Runs until it ties in with Operation: Glass Coffin.

Castle Walls | Captain America and Snow White: Castle Walls | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Carries on from Queen’s Gambit as Steve, now a SHIELD agent, and Leila try to solve the loose threads from the QG case. 

*The Amazing Spider-Man | Movie

Sparks Fly | Captain America and Snow White: The Forest Through the Trees | Graphic Novel

Original plotline. Fury has allowed Leila to handle Gifted cases between STRIKE missions. Together with Steve, she embarks on a simple extraction mission that ends up uncovering a sinister conspiracy in a small town, the two of them growing closer in the process. 

Royal Flush | Captain America and Snow White: Royal Flush | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. SHIELD has tracked down the missing copy of their server from QG and CW, and it’s Leila’s job, with the help of Steve, and two new allies named Isabella Ferreira and Mena Desai, to go undercover to get it back. Unfortunately, this involves fake dating a nouveau riche silicon valley douchebag, which wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t someone she wanted to date for real. Maybe. Kind of. Probably not. But...

Codename: Snow White | Codename: Snow White | Movie

Original Plotline. Leila must face her past as old enemies try to draw attention to her biggest mistakes to undermine her status as an Avenger, in full view of her new allies and friends. 

The Reckless and the Brave | Iron Man 3 (Canon) | Movie

Untitled Thor: TTD Fic | Thor: The Dark World (Canon) | Movie

The Miller’s Daughter | Snow White: The Miller’s Daughter | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. Steve doesn’t know about Leila as much as he thinks he does. It turns out, Leila can keep secrets other than her own. 

Untitled TWS Prelude Fic | Marvel’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier Infinite Comic (Canon) | Comic

Untitled TWS Fic | Captain America: The Winter Soldier | Movie

SIEGE Team Alpha | Snow White: Agent of SWORD | Graphic Novel

Original Plotline. While Steve, Sam and Natasha choose to stay behind, Leila takes Fury up on his offer to go to Europe, searching for answers about her healing factor. However, with a kree serum running through her veins, she rapidly begins to lose her grip on her life. 

SPINOFF: Midwinter | Midwinter | TV series OR comic series (I haven’t decided)

Original plotline. After breaking free of Hydra, Bucky gives himself one more mission: save the girl he once condemned to his own fate. After jailbreaking Anya Maximoff, the two of them embark on a mission to explore their pasts and their futures, blowing up a few Hydra bases along the way. Bucky/OC. 

SPINOFF: Out of the Woods | Black Widow: Out of the Woods | Movie

Original plotline. After the fall of SHIELD, Natasha discovered what she’d intentionally buried even from herself: her younger sister, Alexandra. Angry at a world that should have protected her but didn’t, Alex chooses to disappear after TWS, leading Alex to go after her...with some help. Brucenat pre-relationship, OC/OC. 

SPINOFF: Untitled GotG Fic | Guardians of the Galaxy | Movie

Original plotline. Banished dragon princess meets Stark-worshipping Nova Corps officer. What could possibly go wrong? OC/OC. 

*The Amazing Spider-Man 2 | Movie

Operation: Glass Coffin | Operation: Glass Coffin | TV Miniseries

Original plotline. A very unstable Leila finally finds what she’s been looking for for her entire adult life: a way to erase her own memories. Only, it turns out, once her memories are gone, something else takes their place…

Untitled OGC/AoU interim fic | Untitled | Comic Series OR Graphic Novel

Original plotlines, or perhaps a series of plotlines. Steve and Leila grow closer as Leila helps with the search for Bucky, and Steve helps her recover from her ordeal from O:GC. 

Untitled AoU Fic | Avengers: Age of Ultron | Movie

*Ant-Man | Movie

-

PHASE 3

Domestic Politics | Show White and Captain America: Domestic Politics | Graphic Novel Series

Original plotline, or series of plotlines. Leila and Steve, the two worst equipped people to be in an adult relationship, figure it out together. 

SPINOFF: Untitled Defenders Fic | Daredevil | TV Series

The one where Leila’s former lackey goes head to head with Matt Murdock in more ways than one. Also, Matt has a sister, because I have a brand to maintain. OC/Matt/OC OR Matt/OC, Frank/OC, also Foggy/OC. 

Under Siege | Snow White: Under Siege | Movie

Original plotline. When the Sokovia Accords threaten to rip the Avengers apart, Leila sees one solution: legitimize SWORD as an intelligence agency by stopping a war between two small but significant European countries. Easier said than done when two fugitive ex-Hydra assets get involved. 

*Doctor Strange | Movie

Everything is the same except the Ancient One is played by Dichen Lachman.

SPINOFF: Untitled GotG2 Fic | Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2 | Movie

SPINOFF: Untitled Alex Fic | Untitled | TV Series OR Graphic Novel Series OR Comic Series

In the aftermath of the Under Siege debacle, Alex is one of the Avengers who is able to escape going into hiding. Instead she has her own adventures, from assisting Tony Stark with missions to mentoring Peter Parker and his friends. 

SPINOFF: Untitled Luna and Haven Fic | Untitled | TV Series OR Graphic Novel Series OR Comic Series

The one where Peter Parker falls in love with former villain Haven Hendrix, and Luna Li falls in love with current villain Harry Osborn. 

Untitled Cap 3 Fic | Captain America: Insurgence | Movie

Original Plotline. Serpent Squad maybe? Mostly character driven more than plot driven. 

SPINOFF: Family Business | Black Widow: Family Business | Movie

Technically corresponds to Black Widow (2020). Since in the MMCU it’s the second BW movie, it would have a subtitle.

SPINOFF: Dancing With Our Hands Tied | Thor: Ragnarok | Movie/Graphic Novel

A large part of this fic takes place in the six week gap between Loki and Thor’s arrivals on Sakaar. (In canon, it was three weeks; here, it’s six.) As a result, Alex would be present in the movie, and what happened between her and Loki would mostly be told through implications in the movie, until the graphic novel came out and explored those six weeks more thoroughly. 

*Black Panther | Movie

*Ant-Man and the Wasp | Movie

Untitled IW Fic | Avengers: Infinity War | Movie

Untitled IW/EG Interrim Fic(s) | Untitled | Comics

A lot can happen in five years. 

Untitled EG Fic | Avengers: Endgame | Movie

Daylight | Snow White and Captain America: Daylight | Comic

Just a oneshot or two covering Steve and Leila’s Happily Ever After. 

Other Story Elements

There are other stories here that I’m not sure what to call or how to structure. I want to explore the Avengers Academy that eventually gets established after Endgame; the aftermath of Endgame for Loki and Alex; Bucky and Anya’s eventual own HEA; Jace Barton’s character arc and romance with Pietro Maximoff; and a few other post-EG plotlines. I’ll keep reworking this outline as needed. In other words, this is very much a work in progress, but it’s what I have right now. The main Leila/Steve storyline is largely in tact, it’s just other characters that I’m still ironing out.

[monstersandmaw]

Male scarred werewolf x female reader (sfw) - Part One

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This went up on my Patreon as a surprise extra for Valentine’s Day, and I’m gonna put it on here today for you folks. 

Also help. I have fallen down a hole marked 'I love this new boy so much' and I can't get out. That's fine. Come and join me.

Anyway, meet Rhett, my newest werewoof, and his pack of adopted doggos. No aesthetic for this one, I’m sorry. I have to write a part two asap, but I’ve got a fantastic commission to finish first for a wonderful Patreon supporter. 

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Every Thursday, you bought yourself a bunch of flowers. Every. Single. Thursday.

It had all begun one blustery autumn afternoon, after you’d had the worst first week imaginable at a new job, in a new town, and you’d walked past this little flower shop on your way to the bus stop, and a little bunch of flowers had caught your eye. Ever since that first journey back to your run-down house that still needed so much doing to it, you’d spent a little bit of your salary each week on a bunch of flowers to put in an old, cracked, rusty oil can that served as your flower vase (washed out of course), and it brightened your day every time you came back and saw them.

Valentine’s Day just happened to fall on a Thursday this year, and you knew you were either going to look like you were buying yourself flowers because no one else had - nothing wrong with that, you told yourself - or that you had a date - which you definitely did not. “Ah, screw it,” you muttered as you left work and glimpsed a rather toxic pink looking window-display in the card shop across the road.

Grimacing slightly at the sight of all the glittery pink balloons and hearts, you turned away from commercial Valentine’s hell and strode along the street. It was actually a nice day for once. The early morning fog had burned off and the strengthening sun turned the forget-me-not blue sky deep and endless. The branches of the trees were just beginning to show the first buds of spring, and although frost still lingered in the deeper patches of shade, it was warm enough that you actually took your jacket off and slung it over one arm as you walked.

Right next to the flower shop, you had to pass a garage and workshop, owned by an orc and her half-orc partner, and as you passed, you couldn’t help but look for the familiar and hulking shape of a werewolf who worked there. Impractically, perhaps for him, his coat was a snowy grey, and he nearly always had smudges of engine oil all over it. He took his human form so rarely that you actually couldn't remember if you’d seen him as anything other than a seven foot tall wolf, but it didn't matter. He was gorgeous, with blazing amber eyes, and a big old set of four scars that gashed across his face from one tattered left ear, over his eyes, and down to his muzzle. He must have been in a real scrap to get carved up like that, but you couldn’t help the way your insides flip-flopped around at the sight of him. Your spine would straighten and your shoulders roll back a little more as you walked past him, in the hopes of catching his eye.

That day, he was just straightening up after pushing himself up off the rolling board of the mechanic’s creeper, and as he did so, he caught sight of you, and cracked his head on the underbelly of the car on the lift beside him. With a barely stifled grunt, he turned away and rubbed furiously at it, heading for the garage’s office with his thick, fluffy tail between his legs.

That looked like it’d hurt, and you felt for him and the lump he’d be sporting in a minute or two.

Outside the florist’s, the owner was fixing a beautiful display stand of roses and lilacs, lilies and gardenias. You knew him well by now, and as he glanced up and saw you, his handsome face split into a broad grin, and he waved. “Hi! Ooh, hang on, wait there, don’t move! Just… wait there.”

“What?” you blurted, but the dryad had turned into a shower of cherry blossom petals and swept into his shop before you could react. “Ok then,” you snickered to yourself, turning and shoving your hands into your pockets to wait awkwardly outside the florist’s.

As you moved, you saw the silvery grey werewolf had emerged again, and was watching you from the depths of the garage, and you flashed him a quick smile. You’d often smiled at him as you’d passed, but all he’d done was blink or look away. This time, his tail wagged softly just once, and his lips twitched on one side into a shy, wolfy smile. You wondered idly if he had anyone to go home to today, anyone to buy him flowers, or buy flowers for; anyone to treat him, or to treat. With scars like that, he certainly looked like he could use a little sweetness now, whatever had caused them.

A tap on your shoulder drew your attention away from him, and you turned back to see Maro standing before you, with a colossal bunch of flowers in his arms. “So,” he said, peering around the lobelias and gardenias, his curly, pale pink hair blending almost seamlessly with the bouquet. “This is for you!”

“Wait, what?” you asked, not taking the flowers from him.

He laughed, a sound like a tinkling spring stream, and his already quite narrow eyes closed into a perfect little curved line of pure happiness. When he opened them, they were flaring a lovely bright pink, and the apples of his pale cheeks were flushed too with merriment. “This is too much fun. You have no idea who bought them for you, do you?”

“No,” you said, staring at the gorgeous flowers. “Who…?”

“Ah-ah-ah!” he said, waggling a taunting finger before returning it to steady the teetering bunch. They looked enormously heavy, and his slender body was struggling to hold them. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“But… I don’t know anyone who… who would…?”

“Please,” he scoffed, running his pink eyes up and down your figure. “Also take these now,” he chirped. “They’re heavy.” Then he thrust them at you so that you had to take them before he risked dropping them on the pavement. “You buy flowers here religiously every Thursday. You’re so predictable. I knew he was into you, but I had no idea he’d go this overboard. Gah! It’s hilarious. I wish I could tell you, but I promised, and a spirit never breaks their word.”

You pouted at him over a particularly blousy petal, but he refused.

“You’ll have to guess.”

“Is there a card with it?” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to guess then! Can you give me a clue?”

Maro turned thoughtful, scrunching his pretty lips up and jutting his hips out to one side. He licked his lips and then said cautiously, “Put it this way, I’m glad I gave them to you. If he’d done it, they might be a bit… a bit less pristine?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked back at the flowers. “What, is he like a slime or something?”

Maro barked a laugh that rang off the buildings on your side of the street and even sent a small flock of birds wheeling from a tree overhead. “No,” he said. “No, no slime. Kind of the opposite of slime?”

“The opposite of slime? Slime has an opposite? What the hell, Maro! Just tell me…”

He shook his curly head, grinning. “Nope. I promised.”

“And there’s no message at all?”

“Ah!” he said with melodrama befitting a pantomime performer and raising a finger again. “Ah, now she thinks to ask.”

“You told me there was no note,” you grumped, but he only giggled.

“No written note, but he did say to tell you that he’s seen you buying flowers here, and your smile lights up his day every time, though he regrets not showing you how much of an effect your gesture has on him.”

You turned thoughtful at that, brows pinching. You lowered your nose to the delicate flowers and inhaled softly. “Someone who’s gruff, who sees me everyday and never reacts…” your eyes went wide and you whipped around to find the werewolf from the garage still staring at you from the shadows. “Is it…?”

“Yyyup,” Maro grinned. “And now I take my leave,” he said with a Puck-like bow. “But before I go, give him a chance. He’s a total sweetie despite the face… He was so awkward in my shop, I nearly gave him a box of chocolates, but then I remembered that woofers can’t have chocolate, and I stupidly don’t carry theobromine free chocs yet… I’m working on it though. Anyway, I’m off. Go see your Romeo, sweetheart,” he laughed, vanishing into a puff of petals again and leaving you standing there sporting the largest and heaviest bunch of flowers you’d ever beheld in your entire life.

You peered around them and saw him standing stock still, spine rigid, tail tucked between his huge hind legs, and, in a show of courage you wouldn’t normally expect from yourself, you began to walk towards him with a smile on your face.

As you approached, he dropped from standing on his hind feet to all fours, and then he sat down, curling his thick tail around his legs. “These are from you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little. He was much more intimidating up close, mostly because of his sheer size.

He nodded, and you wondered if he could even speak while in his wolf form. You knew some werewolves preferred not to, while others simply couldn’t get their tongues and teeth around human speech.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” you said, feeling awkward now.

He swallowed, and looked away before letting his arresting eyes flick back up to your face. “I’m sorry if they’re too much,” he said in a harsh, deep, gritty voice. “I mean… We’ve never even spoken…”

“We’re speaking now,” you smiled, and his ears slanted back in relief, his tail twitching just once.

A shout across the small, oil-stained forecourt made you both jump, and a strangely beautiful looking half-orc, half-tiefling stepped out and barked, “Rhett? Did you finish -? Oh.”

And with that, their eyes lit up, and Rhett, the werewolf in front of you, began to growl a warning, hackles raised.

Biting their lips into a hard, thin line and trying so very hard not to laugh, the newcomer sidled back into the office and closed the door behind them. A moment later a chorus of three separate laughs sailed out and Rhett let out a pained whine. “I knew this was a shitty idea,” he snarled, rising and pacing away.

“Wait!” you called. “It wasn’t! I love them.”

He paused, looking back over his shoulder, still on all fours. Honestly, despite his size, he looked like a kicked puppy. “You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“I can see that,” you said earnestly. An idea crossed your mind and you toyed with it before just blurting it out. “Has anyone ever taken care of you for a change?”

His eyes went wide at that and then he sneered, “Why, you want to pet the big bad wolf? Please. Just go. Forget I ever made such a fool of myself.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and you just stood there as he padded away. You scowled back at the office and saw three chagrined and horrified faces staring out at you from the window, and you flashed them a snarl of your own. Taking one of the gardenias carefully from the bunch, you laid it down on the garage forecourt, and then turned and left, heading for the bus and then for home.

You put the flowers in their little oil can vase on the table and sighed. At least most of the foliage hid the ugly red label. Unable to get that hurt expression of his out of your memory, you showered and changed into something more practical and comfy than your work clothes, and raced back out of the house, heading into town again. The garage was closed when you got there, but the half-orc half-tiefling you’d seen earlier was just locking up. Taking a breath for courage, you marched over and came to a halt beside them.

“I need to find Rhett,” you said without preamble.

They jumped and whipped around to look at you. “Oh shit,” they murmured. “Look, I’m sorry. We fucked up earlier. Rhett… Rhett’s a good guy but… he’s… you know…” They scratched their ear, just below the curving horn that arched along the top of their head and flicked up a little at the point. You fixed them with an uncompromising look, and they crumbled. “Look, he comes to work, doesn’t speak to any of us, then goes home at the end of the day. He fixes cars and bikes like no one I’ve ever met, which is why we keep him around, but I don’t keep him around for his manners or his chatty personality, you know what I’m saying? Do yourself a favour and just leave it there.”

“No.”

The owner of the garage blinked at you.

“No, I don’t think that’s fair. Someone bares their heart for me, takes a risk, and you rubbish the gesture? Stamp all over it and spit on it by laughing at him? No. I need to find him.”

“I don’t know where he goes after work,” they snipped. “And I’m not giving you his address.”

Your nostrils flared as you fought off a wave of indignation, but at that moment, Maro caught your eye and waved at you, beckoning you over.

“You’re a heartless piece of work,” you snarled at the half-orc, and they actually looked surprised. Good.

Maro ushered you into his fragrant shop and shut the door quickly behind you, clearly not wanting to get into a spat with the neighbours, but equally wanting to help. “What’s going on?”

You rolled your eyes and told him what had happened earlier, and he bit his lip. “Look, I can’t technically tell you where Rhett lives, but I might just sort of happen to know…”

“How?”

“I pass his place on my way home. I’ve seen him a few times, but it’s… not in a nice part of town.”

You sighed and plonked down into a chair behind the counter.

Maro offered you a half-full box of truffles, and you snaffled a couple before looking up at him with doleful eyes. “What am I going to do? He got ridiculed for the sweetest gesture anyone’s ever given me, and then he shut me out when I tried to thank him.”

“He was probably just embarrassed,” Maro said, putting his warm hand on your shoulder. “Look, why don’t you pretend to come back to my place, and we’ll walk through his neighbourhood together. If he’s… I dunno, putting his trash out or something as you go past, you’ll know it’s meant to be…”

“Maro, the universe doesn’t work like that…” you said flatly, licking the remaining cocoa dust off your fingers.

“Fuck it. It does tonight. Come on.”

So Maro marched you through the streets until you came to a part of town you’d never ventured into. A gang of gnolls trotted across the street ahead of you, yipping and yowling playfully, but Maro seemed undeterred. It occurred to you that he lived in a pretty nasty part of town for someone with such a successful business, and you’d just begun to ask him, when he turned and smiled at you. “My cherry tree has been here since before this town even existed,” he said. “I’m not going to sacrifice her to some housing development, and besides, the kids in this area really like the blossoms in spring, so…”

“Maro, you’re just too pure. Come on,” you said. “I don’t want to lose my nerve.”

Maro drew to a halt a little while later outside a nondescript, single story house with a six foot, chain link fence around the dusty front yard, and a ‘beware of the dog’ sign on the gates. A light shone from inside, but there was no movement.

“Is… Is that…?” you asked, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. You knew Maro quite well from your frequent chats once a week, but he was a spirit after all, and they could be tricksy…

He nodded, looking perhaps a touch sad. Then he opened his palm and blew softly into it, creating a little breeze that ruffled the grass and weeds in the yard before slipping in through the open front window.

“What…?”

“Just wait,” he smiled.

A moment later, a dog started barking inside, and another minute or so later, the door opened and a three-legged pit bull came belting round the side of the house, shortly followed by a scraggy looking mutt that looked more like an oven scourer than a dog, and finally, a rangy, long-legged, black and tan saluki.

“Maro, what did you do?” you asked warily.

“Wait for it…” the dryad said without taking his pale pink gaze from the house.

A door slammed, and a moment later, a human figure slouched around the corner of the house and came to a dead halt in the centre of the patchy lawn, staring straight at you with bright yellow eyes.

“Uh… hi?” you cringed. This was such a bad idea. But shit, if he wasn’t gorgeous in human form too, if a lot more slender than you’d imagined he might be, given the muscles on his wolf body.

One of the dogs, the little oven scourer thing, was scrabbling at the gate and you knelt down instinctively to say hello to it. It was honest-to-god the ugliest bugger you’d ever seen in your whole life, but it didn’t seem to care. It just wanted to greet you. You held your hand out towards it, on your side of the fence just in case it was nippy or nervous, and it snuffed at you, waggling its little grotty stump of a tail. To be fair, the dog was in brilliant condition. It was just utterly unfortunate looking.

The saluki remained aloof, regarding you with cool wariness from beside Rhett, and the three legged pit bull was boinging around, oscillating from saying hello to you and alerting its master that someone was at the gate who needed to be greeted.

Rhett, meanwhile was just standing there. He wore pale, scruffy jeans and a light grey sweater with a hole in the side.

Deciding to give him a moment to work out if he wanted to send you away or come and talk to you, you stuck your fingers through the wide hole in the chain fence and let the little dog nuzzle your hand. “Hey there,” you giggled as it shimmied again in ecstasy. “What’s your name?”

“Hovis,” Rhett supplied quietly, stepping closer. You tried not to look up at him, but you had seen that he carried the same extensive scarring on his face in this form as he did in his lupine form. His hair was white - not blond, but actually white - and he had it tied up in a scruffy bun at the nape of his neck, a few sections dripping forwards into his amazing eyes.

You laughed at the name of the ugly terrier. “Like the loaf of bread!” you giggled, and Rhett grunted something in assent.

“What are you doing here?” he asked a few seconds later, and you straightened to make it a little easier to talk to him.

“It was Maro’s -” you broke off as you looked around and found no sign of the cheeky dryad whatsoever. You rolled your eyes. “Maro’s idea,” you finished flatly.

“The guy who owns the flower shop?” he asked, keeping his head down and turned slightly away from you to try and hide the scars a bit.

“Yeah. I went back to the garage earlier, but your boss wouldn’t tell me where you lived. They’re also a massive jerk by the way…”

“Nah, they’re not really,” Rhett countered gruffly. “They’re… yeah. Anyway. I’m sorry you went to so much trouble.”

A loud gnollish laugh ripped the silence of the street in half, and all the dogs froze. The pit bull started growling, but Rhett only sighed. “You should leave, or come in.”

“I don’t want to impose, but… I’d rather not stay out here longer than I have to…” you said hopefully.

He jerked his head over his shoulder and turned away towards the house. All the dogs followed without him giving any kind of command that you could see, but little Hovis paused and looked back, yipping at you as if to tell you off for not following quickly enough.

“Come,” Rhett growled, and the little dog scurried after him.

In human form, Rhett was tall and lean, and not particularly muscular. In his werewolf form, he had thick legs and broad shoulders, but as a human he was tall, but kind of… ordinary. Except for the hair and the eyes. And the scars. There was no escaping them, no matter how much he tried to lessen their impact for you.

“You want a drink or anything?” he asked awkwardly as you stepped in through the back door into his kitchen. His home was sparsely furnished, and through the open door you could see a sitting room with an old chair facing the TV, and a saggy couch, for which the saluki and Hovis had made an immediate beeline and curled up together. The pit bull was still in the kitchen, having hung around with you and Rhett after you’d stepped in through the back door. You dropped to a crouch and fussed her ears.

“A beer?” you suggested, and Rhett sagged with visible relief and crossed to the old fridge to draw a couple out.

He cracked the top off it for you and offered one to you, his warm hand leaving a dark print on the condensation at the neck of the bottle. He had big hands, with scarred knuckles.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other, and perhaps this is totally crazy, I don’t know, but when Maro told me what you’d said, what your message was with the flowers, I… I just thought that was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You glanced up at him and saw that his yellow eyes were shining as he leaned his weight against the countertop hands braced by his hips. He let out a sigh and shook his head softly. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said, a slight smile at the corner of his pale mouth. The other was twisted slightly by the scarring and he made sure to turn away again.

“I wish you’d left me a note…” you said. “It might have made things easier.”

He scowled and looked away then.

“But I’m happy you left a message with Maro at least?” you added in a rush.

“I can’t read or write,” he admitted hesitatingly a moment later. “I never learned.”

“Oh.” You blinked at him and then smiled. “I can see why there was no note then!”

“You must think I’m just some stupid animal…” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“No,” you said fiercely. “No. That’s not a marker of intelligence! Heck, your boss said you fix cars better than anyone they’ve ever met! I don’t know the first thing about any of that.” You snorted and gave the pit bull’s ears one last scratch and added, “My house is falling down around me and I don’t know the first thing about repairing it!”

He paused and then said, “I could help you with that if you like?”

“I… I’d love that, but… I can’t pay you…”

Rhett scowled. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Ok,” you said quickly. “Then… yeah. I’d love that. Thank you.”

He smiled shyly and turned his gaze fondly back down to the pit bull at your feet, and you looked at him for a moment. Rhett’s profile was particularly beautiful, with a straight nose and a slight smile playing around his lips still. But it was that hair that was so striking.

You stood and crossed to him. You looked at him and he shrank visibly under your gaze. “You have the most amazing hair,” you said, “And eyes. I noticed you the very first time I passed the garage on my way home from the worst day I’d ever had.”

Rhett softened, and looked like he might cry as he choked, “And still you smiled at me.”

You shrugged. “You looked like someone worth smiling at, I guess.”

His resolve cracked, and he let his head hang down, grimacing as emotions swirled through him that he clearly had no idea how to handle. It pained you to see him like that, arms now crossed over his chest, fighting against whatever he was feeling. The pit bull whined too.

Tentatively, you reached for his bicep, and ran your hand over him. He shivered and a tiny whimper escaped him. You could sense instantly that he was completely touch starved. You traced the contours of his arm and shoulder, working up to his neck and the right side of his face, the un-scarred side. You cupped his head in your hand, having to go a little up onto tiptoes to do it, and stroked his white hair back from his face. His resolve crumbled a little more and he let out another gasp.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Those flowers are so beautiful. No one has ever bought me flowers. I’m so glad they came from you.”

He looked at you then, surprise widening his amber eyes, and then he lowered his gaze to the floor and muttered, “You deserve so much more than flowers.”

“Let’s take it slowly first, shall we?” you grinned, stepping back and picking up your beer bottle from the counter. “How about introducing me to your friends…?” you said, glancing at the blue-eyed, honey-coloured pit bull that was staring up at the two of you in what could only be astonishment. The moment you both looked at her, she wagged her whip-like tail and wiggled furiously.

Rhett smiled a wonky smile and said, “That’s Peach. Hovis you already know, and the pretty boy on the couch in the other room is Princess.”

“He’s called Princess?”

Rhett shrugged. “It’s the only name he responds to, so… yeah? I rescued them all at one point or another. Peach lost her front leg before I found her, but she’s a tough cookie.”

You laughed, and said, “Maybe we could all go for a walk sometime then?”

Peach heard the word ‘walk’ and went berserk, until Rhett raised his finger and gave a tiny warning growl at her. It was only the shortest of sounds, but she stopped immediately, and trotted into the other room looking offended.

“Oh dear,” you said, grimacing. “I’ve annoyed her already…”

“You’re fine,” he said, taking a deep swig of his own beer. “She just gets excited, that’s all.”

“I guess I didn’t expect to find you…” you broke off awkwardly. “Um… in… human form… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that… at work, I mean…”

He smiled ruefully and walked into the other room without a word. You assumed it was alright to follow him, and headed in to find him sitting cross legged on the floor, leaving the armchair free for you. Hovis had set up camp in the crook of his lap, and he was running his pale hand through his tangled, wiry fur. “It’s easier,” he said. “I mean… not just on the customers. The fluff kind of hides a lot. But it’s hard to stay like that for too long, so when I’m home…”

“I see,” you said. “Plus as a werewolf I bet you could probably raise a whole car up without the lifting equipment.”

He tossed you an odd look, but nodded. “There are perks to being a woofer I guess,” he said.

“A ‘woofer’?” you grinned. “That’s amazing. I love that.”

He chuckled, his scars crinkling and stretching, tugging slightly on the corner of his eyelid.

“I feel like a princess myself up here,” you said, glancing over at the wary saluki who was surveying you from his seat on the sofa. “You mind if I join you and my new favourite loaf of bread? I think the actual Princess would appreciate it too…” you added, casting the imperial looking hound on the sofa a glance.

Rhett looked at you like you’d just said you wouldn’t mind eating your dinner off the floor, and opened his mouth to protest, but you were on the carpet beside him before he could formulate any words.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you said carefully, “But since you bought me flowers, shall we see if there’s a movie on TV or something? I can go home after that if you like. Or now…”

He looked sideways at you and shook his head. “No,” he said, taking a very deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay. I’d… I’d like it if you stayed.”

You grinned and took Hovis’ truly ugly face in both your hands, very aware of how close you were to Rhett’s personal space like that, and brought your face close to Hovis’ big button nose. “And how about you?” you asked. “How do you feel about me staying?”

Hovis’ little pink tongue shot out and lapped you right across your lips and nose.

“I’ll take that as an ok?” you asked, looking up at Rhett who had that expression on his face again that made you want to hold him and kiss him.

Instead, you smiled as he nodded, and settled your back against Princess’ couch, took a sip of beer, and thanked your lucky stars that you had a meddlesome dryad who ran a flower shop for a friend.

Part Two

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This one was written for my Patreon supporters for Valentine’s Day, and if you liked it, don’t forget to drop a click on the little heart and let me know you did! Reblogs/comments also always welcome :)

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Untold Tales of Spider-Man 06: The Doctor’s Dilemma – by Danny Fingeroth

An unexpected gem!

Dr. Bromwell grabs Peter by the arm and tells him he must talk to him about "his double life." But Bromwell hasn't stumbled on Pete's secret identity. He's talking about the dangers Pete gets into as a Daily Bugle photographer. He asks Peter, for May's sake, to give up the job. Although Peter has worried about the dangers himself, he stiffs Bromwell, saying "I'd appreciate it if you'd mind your own business, Doctor." Regretting every word, Peter goes into an unfair critique of Bromwell and a defense of his photography work. Taken aback, Bromwell gives Pete a new prescription for May and heads toward the door. Peter calls him back and apologizes. He tells him he has considered the dangers but still thinks the reward is worth the risk. Once Bromwell leaves, Peter changes to Spider-Man, eventually web-swinging to the pharmacy to fill May's prescription.

Back at his office, Bromwell can't stop thinking about Peter. Suddenly, he gets a brainstorm. He wants to give Peter a job in the sciences instead. First he goes to Metro Hospital and talks to Dr. Gordon, who saved May's life after Spider-Man brought in the needed ISO-36 (in Amazing Spider-Man #33, February 1966). Gordon reveals that, shortly after Spidey left, a beaten and bruised Peter appeared. Bromwell doesn't know what kind of deal Peter has with Spider-Man but he suspects the web-slinger is taking advantage of him.

Out web-slinging, Spidey comes upon "an eight-foot tall, four-foot wide gent in the green spandex suit" who is trashing an armored car. He is also "amazingly fast and as strong as the Hulk." When Spidey asks for a name, the giant comes up with "Impact," revealing that he volunteered for an experiment involving radioactive steroids (a combination just asking for trouble) for which he never got paid. Now paying himself in his own way, Impact slams Spidey against a wall and escapes.

The next day, Bromwell makes a house call and finds Peter all battered and bruised. He offers Pete a job in his own office helping with his research and lab work. Peter accepts. Aunt May overhears this conversation and is wracked with guilt for letting Peter risk his life taking pictures simply because they desperately needed the money.

So, Peter goes to work for Bromwell. There he researches steroids and finds out that Impact is Walter Cobb, a family man whose mind was warped by the experiment. As the days go by, Peter works at Bromwell's office, just missing catching up to Impact at his various crime scenes. Finally, Bromwell is called to the ER to help treat some victims of Impact's latest assault. As he leaves, Bromwell asks Peter to not go out for news photos. But Peter has to go out to stop Impact. Arriving at the scene,he finds Impact holding two hostages. The police bring out Impact's wife and kids to plead with him. It appears to work, with Impact releasing his hostages. Peter starts imagining a day when his work with Bromwell will lead to greater things than his web-swinging. Then a shot rings out and Impact goes on the rampage again. Spidey tries to calm him but he is too far gone. After pounding on the wall-crawler for a bit, Impact collapses. Bromwell is on the scene and pronounces the giant dead. As Spidey swings home, he reflects on it all. "Bromwell tells me that I should think about my aunt – like I don't do that enough. Impact shows me that there's a right way and a wrong way to try to help those you love. All these lessons! But...what am I supposed to learn from them? Where's the curriculum? Where's the syllabus?"

A great ending, right? But, oops, there's more! On his way home, Peter realizes that he could be as dead as Impact and decides to give up the webs. But at dinner, Aunt May tells him to keep doing what he's doing if it's what he wants to do. The next day, Bromwell waves the Daily Bugle at Peter, indicating the front page photo Pete took, and tells him he let him down, abandoning his lab work for the very work he begged him to avoid. He tells Peter that he has done all he can and that he's letting him go from his job. Pete can tell that Bromwell is hoping he will ask for another chance but Peter doesn't. He has come to completely understand that he does not become Spidey for thrills but to help people and that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would approve if they knew. Or, as he puts it, "Love the power. Guess I'll just have to live with the responsibility."

Had you told me that a Spidey story (and a prose story at that) about Doc Bromwell witten by Danny Fingeroth was going to be cracking I’d have never believed you.

Fingeroth’s body of Spidey work is a mixed bag to put it kindly. This is the man who wrote arguably the single best page of Mary Jane ever in Web of Spider-Man #6, eloquently summing up her emotional conflict regarding her romantic feelings for Spidey. But this is also the man who editorially mandated the creation of Maximum Carnage.

And yet here he doesn’t make a single misstep.

Okay that isn’t exactly true. His opening narration makes Peter sounds like a goddam psychopath. “Love the power. Hate the responsibility.” Er….that’s not exactly true, Peter has moments of enjoyment of his power and frustrations over the burdens it places upon him. But he doesn’t truly revel in his power and typically treats his responsibilities as simply something that HAS to be done moreso than something he resents doing. But that’s nothing compared to “…to take what I need. And to make anybody who gets in my way real sorry they got there.”

WTF dude! I was half expecting that the twist here was going to be that this wasn’t Peter speaking but it was. Fingeroth nicely bookends these sentiments by the end of the story but that doesn’t change the fact those sentiments shouldn’t be there in the first place.

You can maybe just handwave this as Peter being in a really bad mood and not believing what he is thinking. But I dunno, I suspect the real intent here was to clumsily set up something to BE bookended by the end of the story and more poignantly to smack the readers in the face with the central theme of the story. This lack of subtly rears its head again towards the end of the story when Fingeroth seriously spells out for us that Impact is a dark reflection of Spider-Man and the exact ways how. Everything the dialogue says is correct and Impact is actually a very good reflection of Spidey. But couldn’t Fingeroth have been a tad more subtle about it?

But other than that this story unto itself is pretty much flawless. I say unto itself because through no fault of Fingeroth the story’s placement withint he anthology is kind of weird. It clearly takes place after ASM #33 as there are very direct references and fallout from the Master Planner Trilogy. However the nature of the story also makes it highly unlikely to take place after ASM #39 because in that issue Peter is shaken by Bromwell informing him of just how frail Aunt May is. He pretty much tells Peter that if May learns his secret she will keel over dead. So this happens between ASM #33 and #39 but the Looter story clearly happens after ASM #36. Whilst far from inconceivable that this story could happen afterwards, because the last story with the Goblin was obviously tipping the hat to ASM #39-40 this story would’ve been better placed just before the Looter story. As is it’s oddly the THIRD story in this book to take place in this extremely small and specific gap of time after ASM #36 but before ASM #39.

Enough of the nitpicks though. I said this story was a gem and I stand by that.

What pleasantly surprised me most about this story was that Fingeroth seemed to be able to handle the prose format better than every other writer thus far sans perhaps DeFalco.

He wisely knows to emphasis the inner conflicts within the characters’ heads and play up the soap opera rather than leaning in on the action setpieces.

And yet there are two significant action set pieces in this story. Indeed the crux of the whole story REVOLVES around the physical danger Peter puts himself in by going into action. Fingeroth handled these deftly. The action wasn’t over explained and painted a clear picture in your head but didn’t linger too much. Sure you might feel things would be more interesting if you could actually see things but you aren’t drifting off as the writer belabors the combination of punches and kicks Spidey lands. It’s all very streamlined and designed to support the emotional arc of the story as opposed to the action being the point unto itself or simply the means to REACH a conclusion.

In this regard Fingeroth actually edges out DeFalco. Reading/listening through DeFalco’s story the action scenes can just be boiled down to Spidey fights some thugs, drags out the fight for pictures and then one them accidentally dies the specifics don’t matter even though we do get them.

Here Fingeroth forgoes the specifics to simply give you the broad beats to the fight (Impact throws a car, Spidey webs people to safety, etc) whilst ensuring he returns to Spidey’s inner thoughts and peppering in dialogue that is moving the plot and exploring the themes, even if it is simply lightly.

In a way this is a rare example of an action set piece that works BETTER in prose than it would visually. Sure Mark Bagley or Ron Frenz could embellish the fight scene to make it look cool, but the visions of a possible future Peter imagines are more potent and organic when we simply read his train of thought like this. Were it a comic such dialogue would come off as excessive or (if communicated through art) needlessly existential. Additionally as a villain goes Impact is fairly generic, but having him not have any visual presence mitigates that because his importance is more about what he is doing and why than having a dynamic appearance.

To go back to Bromwell, he’s developed more here than he’s been in over 55 years of Spider-History. Were he written like this in his appearances he might’ve become a more beloved character. What’s great is how organic his personality feels. We learn new stuff about him but it feels like a totally logical extrapolation of what little we saw of him in the 1960s. He is a quintessential doctor and Fingeroth lends him a surprising amount of nuance. He isn’t endlessly caring, he has his limits but even so the fact that he wanted Peter to ask him for a second chance at the end was a brilliant touch. It’s a small moment but it helps make Bromwell feel more multidimensional.

And because of this characterization the story earns the pathos of Peter letting him down. You feel sad for Bromwell and for Peter that things didn’t work out for both of them.

Aunt May is also done very well here. She is in typical Aunt May mode but Fingeroth chooses to make that the central conflict of the story rather than a background element. Refreshingly though the issue isn’t that May is on her deathbed, but rather the impact (if you pardon the pun) upon her if anything happens to Peter.  The story is almost a spiritual cousin to JMS’ opus ‘the Conversation’ in that it comes to a reasonable and positive resolution.

What in particular what holds this all together is the brilliant (yet rarely used) idea of treating Peter’s cover story as Spidey’s photographer as a metaphor for him being Spider-Man. It’s something that’s pretty clever when you think about it because the cover story means his loved ones go into relationships with him knowing he takes risks and potentially endangers them, just as if they knew he was Spidey.

Through treating the cover story as a metaphor Fingeroth is able to have Peter get a lot of feelings about being Spidey off of his chest. This chiefly comes in the form of his bookeneded confrontations with Bromwell, his angry (and highly unjustified) outburst at the start and his quiet resigned acceptance at the end.

Perhaps the best bi of narration in relation to Peter’s character was when Fingeroth spelled out that Peter might enjoy being Spidey but even if he didn’t he’d do it anyway because he was hooked on helping people. It eloquently emphasis the innate heroism and core of the character. And it does so in a nuanced way too as too often writers have Peter outright hate being Spider-Man or else cynically lean on the idea he’s a thrill junkie of some kind. Fingeroth gets that peter DOES like his work but that isn’t the reason he does it.

Nuance is actually the key word here. There is a lovely sequence where the story acknowledges that Peter might subconsciously be avoiding Impact out of a loss of confidence. It plays very realistically. How often in life has one bad moment shaken us up and made us hesitant to do things we previously did without even thinking about it.

Really I don’t know what else to say about this story that isn’t self-evident by just experiencing it for yourself.

Tiny issues aside it’s really quite excellent and highly recommended.

[daresplaining]

Could you maybe make a post with some of the most inspiring Daredevil pages? Stuff like him overcoming the Purple Man making him more depressed and hopeless in Waid's run, or the "I am Daredevil, and I am not Afraid." page from Soule's run. Those kind of pages always help me when I'm feeling down, it would be cool to see more in that vein.

    I love this request, and yes, I can definitely do that! I draw a lot of inspiration from Daredevil too (and superhero comics in general; that’s one of the purposes of the genre, in my experience), and refusing to give up when everything is falling apart is one of Matt’s trademark moves. Here are a few of my favorite moments– and I’m including the ones you mentioned, since I love them and want to make sure other people have seen them too. 

[ID: The Kingpin is brutally beating up Matt, who is in civvies. Matt falls on his back, his face bloody.]

Matt: “Never give up– never–”

Let’s start with a classic: 

[ID: Daredevil is fighting Namor. He tries electrocuting him, but the blast knocks him to the ground. As Namor walks away, Daredevil reaches out and grabs his ankle before passing out.]

Namor: “This is madness!! Does your own life mean nothing to you!?? Have you no sense of fear??”

Matt: “Sure! But I seem to have carelessly misplaced it somewhere! Now, just stand there for a second, fella– I want to try something!”

Caption: “Taking one last desperate gamble, Daredevil joins the two live wires, hoping to stagger his super-human foe! […] But, once again, the power of the Sub-Mariner is greater than any could suppose, and it is he who recovers first– while the Man Without Fear, despite his insulated gloves– lies weak, and dazed, and helpless…! Yet, how can one measure the limitless courage of a fellow human? Although on the brink of unconsciousness– although racked with pain and fatigue– still the sightless crusader reaches out–!”

Matt: “Come back! You– you mustn’t fight the others–! They’re innocent– mustn’t be harmed– mustn’t–!”

Namor: “[…] I have fought the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and other super-powered humans, but none has been more courageous than he, the most vulnerable of all! And out of respect to the courage of Daredevil, I shall not injure any humans! I shall fly above the waiting armed forces– and return to the sea where I am supreme!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #7 by Stan Lee and Wally Wood

    The issue that introduced the red Daredevil costume also crafted one of the first memorable depictions of Matt’s boundless resilience. Namor the Sub-Mariner comes ashore to sue the human race, and hires Nelson and Murdock to represent him. When the situation goes awry, Namor becomes violent, and Matt tries to subdue him. While he gets thoroughly thrashed in this fight, Matt’s persistence impresses Namor enough to make him leave the human race alone (for now). That image of a nearly-unconscious Daredevil clinging to Namor’s ankle is fairly iconic, with– I feel– good reason. 

[ID: The Hulk backhands Daredevil a good distance, where he crashes into some trash cans. He is injured and bleeding, but he struggles back to his feet as the Hulk stands over him, deciding whether or not to finish him off.]

Hulk: “NO! Banner made the Hulk a monster and Hulk will find him, even if it takes forever!”

Matt: “Hulk… *koff*… you won’t find Banner… *koff*… this way. You can’t… *koff*… find Banner this way. The police… the authorities.. I-I want to help them understand… *koff*… and… *koff* … I want to help you. …But you’ll have to trust me.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #163 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, and Glynis Wein

    This is, thematically, a very similar situation to the first scene. The Hulk goes on a rampage and Matt tries to stop him. Just as in the Namor situation, Matt loses this fight– he is nearly beaten to death, and is confined to a hospital bed for quite a while afterward– but his courage breaks through the Hulk’s rage enough to calm him down. This is a recurring theme in their friendship. Matt first meets Bruce Banner when he is hired to represent the Hulk in court, and from the beginning, Matt has been vocal in his support of Bruce and sympathy for the Hulk. Despite the danger, Matt never hesitates to put himself within smashing distance of the Hulk for the sake of helping him. 

[ID: A taxi is resting at the bottom of a river with its hood bashed in. Matt Murdock is unconscious in the front seat. We see a close-up of his eyes as they open in a defiant glare. The next few panels show the Kingpin standing at a window looking out, and photos of the cab after it has been pulled out of the river.]

Caption: “Unconscious but living, Murdock is placed in a stolen checker cab… The cab is driven off Pier 41 into the East River. Its safety belt and doors are corroded shut by a chemical process that is identical to rust. Murdock is drenched in whiskey. A bottle, open, is laid in his lap. The owner of the cab is beaten to death by Murdock’s stolen billy club. Days pass into weeks. Still Murdock is never far from the crimelord’s thoughts. He imagines one last, terrible moment of realization… of Murdock thrashing wildly, desperately, hatefully… screaming soundlessly into the poisoned water… The Kingpin shudders at the thought, in pleasure… The world seems flooded with sunlight. Daily business becomes a joyous, childlike game. He has disgraced, destroyed and murdered the only good man he has ever known. This is his triumph of the spirit.

“At last the cab is discovered. There is blood, and bloody evidence of a struggle. There is a shattered windshield… a safety belt, severed by the windshield’s glass and what must have been a hideous effort of will. There is no corpse.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #228 by Frank Miller, David Mazzucchelli, and R. Lewis

    This is, of course, from the famous “Born Again” arc, and I had a hard time choosing a scene, since the whole story is essentially a seven-issue-long depiction of Matt being knocked down and then standing back up. (I highly recommend reading it if anyone hasn’t, and I also summarized it here. I also cheated by including another scene at the beginning of this post…). However, the scene above is a turning point and possibly my favorite moment in the whole story. At this point Matt has lost it all: his friends, his career, his reputation, his money, and his home. In a fit of desperate, delirious anger, he attacks the Kingpin, who beats him unconscious and then– in the scene above– tries to kill him once and for all. The above issue starts with Matt curled up on a bed in a hotel room, unable to force himself to even move. He seems thoroughly beaten, and the Kingpin assumes the same, which is why he decides to stop toying with his victim and just finish the job. But in spite of all of this, Matt freaking Murdock refuses to die, and he somehow finds the strength to physically fight his way out of this seemingly unsurvivable situation. The fact that we don’t see him do it– that we only get the Kingpin’s reaction and that panel of Matt’s defiant glare after regaining consciousness– makes this act of resilience all the more powerful.       

[ID: Daredevil is fighting the Vulture (the Spider-Man villain). Daredevil pins him to the ground and starts punching him in the face.]

Matt: “A while ago, you said I secretly wanted to die. You were wrong. Cowards want to die. I’m no coward. I’m proving it– to you and to myself– by beating you… you– and everything you represent… the death and decay that eat away at a man until he surrenders… the horror that pulls you down into the pit! Well, I’m not the surrendering kind, mister! Got that? I never give up!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #225 by Denny O’Neil, David Mazzucchelli, and Ken Feduniewicz

    Matt is not at all a suicidal person (I’ve seen some fans claim otherwise, but he really isn’t), and this scene comes from a rare issue that covers that topic. It takes place shortly after Heather Glenn’s suicide, and it explores how the spectre of her death haunts Matt and Foggy’s lives afterward. In this story, the concept of death is represented by the Vulture, who Matt discovers trying to rob Heather’s grave. Later, he appears at the offices of Nelson and Murdock, which have just gone bankrupt. Upset by this loss, Foggy wanders up to the roof and contemplates his life, at which point he encounters the Vulture. Matt, fearing that Foggy might kill himself, goes up after him in costume and tries to fight the Vulture off. For a moment, during the fight, Matt contemplates whether he actually wants to lose, before returning to his senses and defeating both the Vulture and his own dark thoughts. 

[ID: Daredevil is fighting a huge crowd of grotesque-looking demons while carrying a lit torch. He holds up the torch and the demons scatter.] 

Matt: “My whole life, endless fighting. What a fate. I wonder, could I change that fate? No matter how many I kill, they keep on coming.”

Mephisto: “Ha ha ha ha ha! I love it! That’s it, you big hero. Keep fighting. Fight till you drop that torch.”

Matt: “What if… what if I just stopped? If I just stopped fighting. If you stop fighting, isn’t the fight over? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. They can’t touch me. Okay, Mephisto. I’m coming for you. You made a mistake. You believe your evil breaks a man. Sometimes it does. But when it doesn’t break a man– it makes him even stronger.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #281 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

    This is from Matt’s literal trip to Hell in Nocenti’s run (Hell is a cosmic setting in the Marvel universe, and Mephisto is a recurring antagonist, so this isn’t quite as bizarre as it sounds…). While trapped in a seemingly endless wasteland and attacked by hoards of demons, Matt musters enough free will and spirit (as represented by the fire he’s carrying) to not only survive, but to actually challenge Mephisto. It’s great. 

[ID: Matt is crouched on the side of a building at night, in the rain. He is wearing the Daredevil suit but has taken the mask off. He puts his hand to his face in emotional anguish.] 

Matt: “I’ve got to pull myself together. My world is falling apart and I am helping it every single step of the way. I have to focus. Focus. Foggy is right. My entire life– everything is up for grabs. Everything I’ve built– everything I am– can be taken away from me. Have to center my energies. Have to think. Focus. Center and focus. Center and focus. Don’t listen to their camera motors and their cell phones. Don’t listen to them. The phone calls. All I hear is my name over and over: Murdock. Murdock, Murdock. That name is not theirs to say. It’s not theirs! It’s mine. They’re stealing it from me. No! Stop it. Center and focus. Center and focus. Center and–”

Mugging victim (off-panel): Noooo!”

Matt: “Focus.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #35 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    I love this little moment from Bendis’s run. It’s small and subdued, but highly moving in the context of what Matt is dealing with in this story. His identity has been made public, there are crowds of reporters camped outside his home, his entire life is at risk of falling apart, but he takes this second to pause, think, and regain some sense of control.  

[ID: Matt stands up and prepares to fight. He is armed with two tonfa, and is wearing black clothes reminiscent of his Man Without Fear costume, but without a mask. His head is bandaged.]

Matt: “You think you can… turn me into a blubbering wreck… by preying on my fears… but I’ve already faced them– and come out the other side! You understand me, Calavera? I know what I am… who I am… and I am not afraid!”

Daredevil: Reborn #4 by Andy Diggle, Davide Gianfelice, and Matt Hollingsworth

    The Reborn mini-series follows Matt’s attempt at emotional recovery in the aftermath of “Shadowland”. Having quite literally lost his identity and had his spirit broken by getting possessed by a demon, he goes out west and, through helping right some wrongs in a small town in New Mexico, he reaffirms his sense of self.  

[ID: A stormy winter night. Ferry pilots (Sid and Ronnie, off-panel) are waiting for Daredevil to resurface from the river. As their ferry moves away, Daredevil hauls himself out of the freezing water and onto a dock.]

Sid: “It’s been a while, Ronnie– think he’s still down there?”

Ronnie: “Sid– you a moron? Where else would he be?”

Sid: “Beats me. Just askin’. It’s too bad– looks like he went back down there for nothin’. ‘Cept maybe to die.”

Ronnie: “Well, I’m not givin’ up just yet.”

Sid: “No? Why not?”

Ronnie: “’Cause I don’t think he would.”

Daredevil: Dark Nights #2 by Lee Weeks and Lee Loughridge

    The first Dark Nights story is a celebration of Matt’s willpower, as he travels through a blizzard to deliver a heart transplant to a dying little girl. I particularly love this scene, in which Matt dives into the river to rescue the heart and the pilots transporting it from their crashed helicopter, and despite the cold and his exhaustion, he powers through and survives the experience.

[ID: Daredevil is bleeding and horribly injured, and crouched in the mud under a bridge. The Purple Man is standing above him, about to hit him with a plank of wood.]

Purple Man: “Shouldn’t you be angry? Shouldn’t you put up a struggle?”

Matt (caption): “But that’s how far down the pit I’ve fallen. I can’t even respond to his orders. 

Purple Man: “Come on. This is too easy. Don’t rob me of a victory I’ve waited years for.”

Matt (caption): “All I can do is sink into the blackness. I can’t feel pain. I can’t  move because I have nothing to push against. Nothing.”

Purple Man: “Show me some fear.”

[ID: Daredevil kicks the Purple Man, then falls back to his knees. ]

Matt (caption): “That. That, I know how to fight. Get up. You have momentum now. Don’t lose it. Don’t let the shadows pull you back in. Inertia is the enemy. Do something. Move. Move, Matthew.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #10 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Matt Wilson

    I’m glad you mentioned this scene because it’s one of my favorites too, as is this story arc as a whole. Waid’s depiction of depression is visceral and heartrending because it’s something he himself suffers from, and that realism makes Matt’s struggle to move forward and fight against his despair all the more impactful.  

    As an extension of the above moment, Matt’s decision to talk with Kirsten at the end of the issue (which I discussed at length here) is also breathtaking.  

[ID: A black page with a red heart monitor readout at the bottom. It flatlines, then spikes once.]

Matt (caption): “I cannot see the light. So I will be the light. I am Daredevil. And I am not afraid.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #612 by Charles Soule and Phil Noto

    And this moment– there’s nothing more badass than Matt literally willing himself back to life! “I am Daredevil. And I am not afraid” is a refrain that is repeated throughout Soule’s run, which is a neat way of tying his run together and emphasizing Matt’s relentless determination. 

[ID: Matt is alone in a gym, struggling to walk between two parallel bars. He falls, then, with a huge effort, pulls himself back up.]

Jack (off-panel): “Fear’s of no use to us, Matt. We have to live with it, but it’s not for anything. But pain? What’s pain for, Matt? What’s pain for?”

Matt: “Pain keeps us going.”

Man Without Fear vol. 2 #5 by Jed MacKay, Danilo Beyruth, and Andres Mossa

    The new Man Without Fear was another great recovery story, and gave us this really great moment when Matt, after suffering through the physical and emotional destruction of being hit by a truck, finally regains his fighting spirit.

    I also wanted to include a few scenes of other people being inspired by Matt’s courage and resilience, because there are some great ones. Here’s one of my favorites, from Waid’s run:

[ID: Foggy is sitting in a circle with a group of fellow cancer patients. They are all wearing Daredevil shirts.]

Foggy: “Ah, excellent. You all dressed for the occasion. I’ll be straight up with you folks. I have a friend. He’s probably the bravest man I’ve ever met. And no matter how much I beg him to teach me to be like him… in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve learned only one thing about fearlessness: it’s contagious.”

Daredevil vol. 3 #31 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

    I love this aspect of Foggy’s cancer plotline– the fact that Foggy uses Matt as a source of inspiration for facing his own fear. These two have always been emotional anchors for each other, providing moral support and guidance in difficult times, and that’s part of what makes their friendship so powerful. Here, Foggy is largely on his own. Matt can’t punch cancer, and Foggy doesn’t even tell him about the symptoms at first. But from the very beginning, Foggy latches onto Matt’s fearlessness as a way of fending off his own terror about the diagnosis. As I said at the beginning of the post, part of the purpose of superhero stories is to serve as inspiration for their readers to be kind and courageous in their own lives, and it’s wonderful when characters within those stories are impacted in that same way by the superheroes around them. To take this concept one meta step further, Foggy’s cancer story– the whole thing, including his drawing strength from his best friend– is in itself a hero story for readers who may be going through similar experiences. 

[ID: Flashback panels colored in black and white with hints of red. Matt (in civvies) is attacked by a group of ninjas on a city street. He fights them while Foggy runs and hides around a corner.]

Foggy (caption): “When you were around, it was different. The fear wasn’t so real. I was still freaked whenever anything happened… my nerves were a car wreck… but even as I was sweating bullets, I somehow knew I was safe. Because of you.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #88 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, David Aja, and Frank D’Armata

    …And another great Foggy and Matt scene, this one from “The Secret Life of Foggy Nelson”, one of my favorite issues of Brubaker’s run. Foggy has been separated from Matt against his will, and in his isolation and fear, he reflects on their friendship and draws strength from Matt’s example. 

[ID: Luke Cage is sitting comfortably in a chair, legs crossed, directly addressing the reader.]

Luke: “Daredevil. I know him pretty well, actually. Well, as well as he lets anyone know him. End of the day, without question, he’s one of the best. Ever. I’m not going to get into who he is and how he became who he became. And I know there are a lot of people who think they know all there is to know about Daredevil and all of his secrets. But I can tell you from personal experience that the information that’s out there about him is pretty much crap. Let’s just leave it at that. All you need to know about Daredevil is that this man has sacrificed everything to try to make this city safer. He has lost more and suffered more for his dedication to you than, well, anybody I know. And I know some people who’ve suffered and lost. He ain’t the strongest of us, and he ain’t the flashiest… but Daredevil cannot be brought down. It cannot happen.”

New Avengers vol. 2 #16 by Brian Michael Bendis, Mike Deodato, and Rain Beredo

    And last but not least, here an excerpt from a great speech Luke Cage gives after Matt joins the Avengers. Even other superheroes– all of whom tend toward superhuman resilience– are impressed by Matt.  

[wildmoonflower]

These dreams are made of tears

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Summary: AU where you share your dreams with your soulmate and yours turns out to be very kind, sad, hurt and insecure Avenger Warnings: Depression, mentions of self-harm, sensitive topic(death), swearing  but also some fluff Warning 2: I got carried away and the word-count ended up being 12K...I'm sorry A/N: This is my piece for writing challenge for @afewmarvelousthoughts on a prompt n.16: 'Don't leave me. Not now.'

@afewmarvelousthoughts Thank You again for understanding my situation of needing longer deadline. I hope You enjoy this :) I also take criticism so I would be really glad for one, it would help my writing :)

With a sharp gasp for air, you wake up with a jerk, pj's shirt drenched in sweat, comforter crumpled at your feet showing rough night. Today, dreams of your soulmate were just as intense as always. With a groan, you sat up on the bed, rubbing your tired eyes. Pink, purple and red light of the dawn was slowly filling your room was not reflecting the mood you were in, tired and so not ready for work. It was clear that restless night was a omen of a shitty day before you. After you got up from bed, you noticed the charger not properly plugged in the outlet, leaving your phone on weak 30%, you were running out of toothpaste with no spare under the sink and coffee taste bad for some reason. You could feel tension in your body slowly add up. 

Dreams of your soulmate were intense tonight, much worse than last few days, which left you wondering what happened that made bloody horrors to come back. Darkness, screams, heavy scent of blood were so strong, so real it made your skin crawl. And yet, the worst was a hand, your hand, covered by black glove, holding a gun. Weight of the gun was unbearable but your hand was holding it tightly, pointed on the blurry figures, that wailed and trashed, faces unknown to you. You couldn't watch anymore but when a cold voice shouted from behind, your hand,  hand of your soulmate rised up, finger pulling the trigger. 

Sound of your phone pulled you out of your reminiscing. "Shit!" You exclaimed, looking at the screen. The alarm that warned you you had last 10 minutes before you have to leave for work has gone off. At this point, you don't have time for make-up, even thought it is usually just a few swipes of mascara and lip balm. As fast as you can, you get dressed in comfortable clothes and sprint out of your small apartment. Working in a Caffee, you were responsible for opening the place after checking if everything is in place, normal start of a week. 

Rounding the corner, you collided with a strong body of a man, making you stumble and if it wasn't for a muscular arms grabbing you by your hips, you would be kissing the concrete. "Woah, easy there." Deep voice sounded from up above, hint of amusement clearly because of your shocked face. Looking up, warm brown eyes stared at you, one corner of the lips turned up, visibly suppressing himself from laughing. 

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking." You blurted out, offering apologetic smile to dark-skinned man in front of you. Behind him stood a man with a polite smile. Looking at them, you noticed both of them were in simple jogging clothes, man who you crushed into clearly much more sweaty and tired than his friend, who didn't look even fazed. Your brows creased, their faces were somewhat familiar but before you could place them, your phone beeped again, snapping you out of another trance. "I'm sorry, I have to go to work right now. Once again, please, excuse me." You apologized, running away full speed, giving two men no time to answer, knowing that owner will be already there, most likely in his normal stance of exasperated dad. 

Living in Manhattan, NYC, was mostly nice and relatively calm. Or at least when aliens were not raiding the town in lead of crazed demi-god. The Caffee-ironically named Safehaven-was very close to the Stark Tower, now known as Avengers Tower and when huge portal opened, you were at your shift, ushering small group of customers in the kitchen before a police came and took them to safety. Noticing a small kid, hiding under the table, you went back, not realizing that everybody already left in hurry. Staying in unlocked place was as dangerous as out in the streets, but you took your change in the back-alley, hoping for no monster to be there. And for sure, you heard a crushing sound of breaking glass from inside the shop, followed by a sound of growls and brawl. Not making even four steps further, three Chitauri warriors busted through, shooting at a red-haired woman. By then, you were in full panic mode, almost throwing small boy behind the dumpster just to hide him from the brutal sight in front of you. Unfortunately, the movement drawn the attention of the Chitauri monster. Before you could move a muscle, petite woman kicked the monster from behind, shooting him from a strange stick-like weapon, other staff rolling to your leg. __ "Are you okay?" She asked, calmly wiping the blood from her busted lip as if she just didn't kick ass to a bunch of aliens. You nodded your head, still speechless as you noticed one of the Chitauri get back up, weapon in hand, aiming at red-head's back. Without hesitation, you picked up the staff by your feet and shoot the monster, by some miracle not the woman who barely flinched, just spun on the heel to round-kick the twitching body away. "Well, thank you for that." With a quick stride, she trudged to you, taking the staff from your stiff hands and motioning the boy to come out. "I'm Natasha, nice to meet you." "Y/N, my name is Y/n." Your voice finally came back, shaking your hand with petite beauty before you. "I guess it's me who is grateful. That was awesome." "I guess we are almost even. Let's get you two to safety." With that, Natasha carefully led you to nearest group of police officers, who were shouting orders´. Not long after the centipede-like monsters poured out of the sky, you could see Hulk, Iron Man and Thor take down one and then move towards the Tower. You were nervous, you knew Natasha was out there, risking her life to stop the extraterrestrial madness and sent countless number of prayers to anything, anyone that was above. And sure enough, the talk about Avengers rose, the group of remarkable people, who swore to fight the battles normal citizen never could. 

You were not late, thanks to mad dash you made and your head being in the cloud, you were surprised you were not hit by a car or toppled by a cyclists in rush hour. The owner, Mr. Goodman, indeed stood like a bouncer, watching your arrival with squinted eyes. "Y/N, I hope you have a good reason why my shop is still not ready to be opened? It's a rule that is set to maintain some level of order," Older man looked at you, noticing dark circles under your eyes, deep sigh fell from his lips, "another tough night?" 

"They were...intense." You nodded, apologetic smile on your face. You loved Mr. Goodman, that man took you under his wings and gave you steady job when you couldn't stand pitying eyes of your family and moved out, even helped you find an apartment with reasonable rent. At first, owner looked like a tough criminal, scar on the cheek, hair in a buzz cut and tattoos of various monsters covering both hands. After knowing him, you find out he loves to read, has a passion in brewing coffee and cooking and tends to stray cats and dogs in the back-alley, which gets him into a fight with his wife, who knew they can have only so much pets at home. 

"Nothing I can't handle. Just a minute, I will open the store right away." You quickly changed the topic and begin to work. Mondays, as always, are hectic and first customers comes in with almost zombie-like manners, in desperate need of caffeine. Day was going slow and you could not wait for Jessica, sweet university girl who worked a few hours after school. Lack of sleep was catching up in full force, resulting in strong case of resting bitch-face, which tended to get you in occasional trouble. 

Around 4PM, an hour when shop was the least busy, a familiar face popped in. "Nat! Oh my God, you're back!" You rushed towards black Widow, who smiled let you give her a bear hug, patting your head with her free hand. "When did you came back?" You asked, not noticing other three people standing behind her, watching your interaction curiously. 

"Yesterday, late at night." Male voice replied and a certain archer stood next to Natasha, ruffling your hair. "We said not to worry, if I remember right." He laughed at your attempt to jab him in the ribs. "Missed you too, Y/N/N." "Well, I always worry so I stopped listening to you." You smirked but leaned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Shortly after the attack, Natasha came to the shop again, this time with Clint, with who you immediately clicked. You loved the seemingly carefree man, who often acted dumb. You called out the bullshit on that, as you had the chance to witness the wits, quick thinking and impeccable instinct. "I'm glad to see you back, Clint." 

"Stop hogging her to yourself, Clint." Natasha nudged Clint with her foot, putting a hand around your waist and pulled you to her side. "Y/N, this is Sam and James. They work with us. Guys, this is Y/N, the one I have talked about before." She motioned towards two men, who silently watched previous conversation. Your eyes widened at the sight of a man from the morning. 

"Hey, we met this morning." You blurted out, making Sam laugh and extend his arm to you, which you awkwardly shook. Never in your dreams could you imagine meeting an Avenger in such inelegant way. "Sorry, again, for almost manhandling you." Looking behind him, your breath hitched at the sight of the last man, James. Somewhere deep in your stomach squeezed and an unknown feeling washed over you. Man before you was tall, dark hair long and kinda unkept. He was looking at you but because of the cap, you couldn't see his face clearly, just a dim spark in eyes and a few-days-old stubble. His whole body showed exhaustion and some sort of fragility that made your heart skip a beat. Now you have realized all of them had a cap on, trying to conceal their identities, which still surprised you that it mostly worked. "Hi," you said softly and listening to the quiet voice in your head, you made and slow step towards him, extending your hand to him, "nice to meet you. Probably everything she said was a lie." You grinned a little and heard Nat scoff behind you. 

James looked at your hand and shook it in the gentlest manner. "Only the good things and praises." He answered, voice gruff and low. "So, lies." You joked, earning a soft chuckle from him that made goosebumps go crazy on your back. Tracking your eye down, you notice his left arm covered in black glove, while his right hand was not. James shifted on his feet uncomfortably and you stepped back, playing it cool. "So, um, I guess you want to sit down and order. Or is it to-go?" You asked, looking around. 

"We will have it here. We'll take the corner table." Nat jerked her head to the table, around which were no customers. "When do you have your break? Come sit with us." She asked. 

You looked at the clock above the doors. "I can take it right now but I'm sure you guys want to have some quiet and peace for yourse-I wouldn't ask if we wouldn't want you there." She interrupted you, her tone of voice leaving no room for arguments. "Come when you take your things." You rolled your eyes on her, earning a toothy grin that gave you different kind of goosebumps than when James smiled. 

"Fine! Here are the menus, sit down, I'll give you time to pick." You shooed them to their table and went to Joe, another student trying to survive college without starving. "Joe, I'm taking my break, if something is wrong, holler for me." You informed him and took your smoothie from the fridge. Working in a Caffee, after a while, it made your love for coffee decrease a little, finally pushing you to drink something healthier. "Okay, did you guys pick what you want?" You placed down your drink and the sandwich Mr. Goodman made for each of his employees. "I'll take Long Black with three shots of Espresso." James said, closing the menu you've handed him earlier. One glance at Nat and Clint and you knew it was their usual so you turned your attention to Sam, who smiled at you in toothy grin, handed you the menu. "Americano for me." 

After passing the orders to Joe, you finally sat down beside Natasha. "You look awful, Y/N. You look like a panda bear with those bags." She scolded with Clint nodding his head who calmly sipped from a steel cup, most probably his own coffee mix, which one time made you shake for three hours and sweat bullets while shaking like a leaf in the wind. How he was still alive with the amount of caffeine intake without suffering an heart attack, that was beyond you. 

"Speak for yourself, all of you look like you could use some sleep." You said but the pointy look from a pair of assassins told you your distraction didn't work. "I couldn't sleep last night." You sighed silently to Natasha, who too lowered her voice. She didn't bother to tell you that James, who was bickering with Sam, could hear every single word you two muttered. 

"Your soulmate?" All you could do was to let out a bitter laugh:" Of course. My soulmate either loves action movies and relives them in his dreams or he is actually a freaking psychopath or a hitman." You laughed out, sounding little bit hysterical. 

That is how this world worked. Since forever, two people, destined for each other, could see the dreams of one another. It was a strange sensation, as if two different tapes were playing in your head. Your dreams always felt different, as if watched from afar, while the dreams of your soulmate were pulling you in. During the early years of childhood, you had no dreams whatsoever, what nobody took seriously, maybe your soulmate was a little kid still too. But soon, it changed. Nightmares, horrible images filled your nights, leaving the small you terrified, terrified of the world, of people and cruel words behind seemingly kind faces. Just as quickly the nightmares came, they have disappeared, leaving your mind in disarray. You had some peace for a few years, until one night, when you have woken up, drenched in sweat, screaming your lungs out at horrific images . Depression kicked in, leaving your family heart-broken at the sight of a barely teen girl, shivering under the covers. That's how it went, for every few years, the dreams of your soulmate came back, every time making your night living Hell, resulting in insomnia and depression. 

To that, Natasha had nothing to say, just an empathetic pat on the back that made you feel bad. She has confessed that her soulmate died long time ago, as dreams of her other half simply disappeared. Despite that, she never let that define the relationships she had, as you knew of her 'chummy time' with Bruce Banner, as Clint called it, not in front of her, of course. Even after years of friendship and having each other's back, he knew better than to make fun of her or a man, whose problem tends to turn big and green. Forcing yourself to smile, you turned to James and Sam, who were silently bickering about something, catching words 'tin foil man', 'Steve', running' and 'left'. "So," you said, taking a small bite of your sandwich," do you have any missions planned now? Or do you actually have something magical called a leisure time?" 

"Stark is planning a big party tomorrow. Is it considered leisure?" Clint asked, earning a disgusted face from Bucky. "No, it's not, because of course, all big shots are going to be there, trying to get all friendly with him or Captain." Clint mumbled and you huffed a laugh, remembering when he confessed you that only parties most of the Avengers enjoyed were with less people, Avengers and closest friends at the best. 

Nat, suddenly grabbed you hand, big grin on her face made your skin crawl, you already knew you were not going to like what she was about to say. "Day after tomorrow, keep it free." Horror filled your guts as you knew what she was planning. Turning your full attention to red-head beside you, you spouted the first thing that came to your mind. 

"I have something planned already that day." Trying your hardest not to break eye contact, you could feel the sweat slowly build on your forehead, a normal reaction to the pointy look that felt like thousand needles moving under your skin, a reaction that Nat could easily evoke in an instant. Leaning forward in her seat, she squinted her eyes, not uttering a word, you knowing what was about to come. "Okay, I don't, stop doing that." You peeped, making others laugh. "Nobody is going to believe a lie just because you do not break your eye contact. Not moving or blinking is the same as confessing. You also started to tweak your palm. Plus, you are like the worst liar I've ever met." Natasha counted all mistakes while leisurely sipping on her drink. "I'll pick you up tomorrow after your shift, we will go to buy you something that will fit Stark's dress code expectations." 

Despite knowing how annoying Nat found whimpering, you couldn't help it but let a small groan escape your mouth. "Nat," you nudged her with leg, "you know I hate parties, especially with lots of loud and most importantly, unfamiliar people around." "Too bad, I already told Stark you are my plus one." Not so pleasant answer made you sad and annoyed all the same, determined Natasha was harder to stop than an enraged bull. 

Unknown to Y/N, her little quarrel with Black Widow was overheard by Bucky, who couldn't help but feel relieved by the outcome. At least, another relatively normal person will be there, one more person to talk to when Steve or Sam will get called over. He still disliked being at those parties, incessant feeling of being watched and the wall slowly closing in on him still gave him panic attacks, but as he was reminded by Tony, all Avengers must be present, as a form of apology for the damage they caused on the last mission. Watching Y/N as she sprawled herself on Nat, pursing her lips in pouty way, with Sam and Clint telling her they will be there for her, he had a feeling they will find each other at the party when the time comes. "I shouldn't have sit with you." "Too late, Honey."

Stark's idea of small party was something like a 'Nightmare Exclusive' for you. What felt like whole city was before Avenger Tower, either trying to will their way in or simply to catch a glimpse of the mightiest heroes. It was next to impossible for you to get close and you still had your doubts of how you will get through the security as Nat was not picking up her phone. You were no celebrity to be recognized, nor have you ever made it public that you know one of the Avengers. Despite that, as you got close, one of the men, his name tag shown name Hogan, pushed through the crowd to you and bent down a little, helping you hearing him through the cacophony of music, honks of the cars and screaming voices. "Miss Y/L/N?" Your shocked face must have assured him of his right guess as he put his hand on the small of your back, softly pushing you towards the doors. Your face burned bright red as you heard angry whispers of people waiting in the line. "Ignore them. Pompous a-holes will always be a-holes, they should taste what it feels like to be made wait." Happy said, now much relaxed as two of you entered the reception, noise from the outside almost non-existent. 

"Is it wise to talk like that when Mr. Stark is your employer?" You asked amused, already liking the man walking slightly ahead of you. "And, how did you know me?" 

He looked over his shoulder, a small smirk formed on his mouth. "I stand my ground." He mumbled and stopped before the elevator: "Miss Romanoff made it clear she has a plus one and has shown me your picture. "Pushing the button, he turned around and began to leave, helping the men with the chaos outside, "Just ask Friday to get you to top floor." He said over his shoulder and rolled them as he stepped outside, as if to appear taller or scarier, or both. You smiled at the sight, he reminded you of that one uncle who thinks he is big and tough while being a total sweetheart with a slight potty mouth. 

With a soft click, doors opened and you stepped inside. "Umm, top floor, please?" You asked into the space as you noticed no buttons and surely, a female voice answered, making you jump: "Right away, Miss Y/L/N." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered Natasha telling you about A.I Tony Stark created. Elevator was spacious, one side fully covered with mirror, giving you time to check yourself the last time. Your make-up was very light, you never liked to waste too much time in front of the mirror but you felt the pressure to cover yourself a little bit more than usual for this kind of 'once-in-a-lifetime' event and your hair... you were too lazy to do something fancy as you just washed them and attached a few small hairpins. The dress, that was something you would you yourself would never bought if it wasn't for a certain red-haired that occasionally had a scary scowl on her face. One side sleeveless but the material connected to another hand with 3/4 length sleeve, showing off your collarbones. The camisole was tight on the skin and several layers of soft chiffon went down in bit more loose skirt. In soft flow from the knee height, an intricate lace swirled upwards, creating a design of a flowing water from a certain angle. The dress was too much but seeing the way Nat's eyes twinkled, you just hadn't had the heart to say no to her. You were lucky the shop had it in your favorite color and the material was soft and comfortable. You made it very clear to Nat, comfort over style was your motto, you hated uncomfortable clothes with passion. You had a thin necklace on your neck, beautiful thin silver chain with a tiny pendant, a small black widow spider standing on the rose, Nat's present to your birthday. Your wrists were covered by a delicate lacy fingerless gloves that reached about the middle of your forearm, covering the parts of you you have never shown to other people, not even Nat.

"Top floor." A.I, Friday, announced and opened the doors, giving you just enough time to take a deep breath. The room before you was...overwhelming. Tables with food stood against the wall and right next to it was a bar that you knew Nat will dominate later on. Everything looked expensive, even a small pouffes looked more pricey than half of your apartment. Few people were walking around, carrying various stuff, most probably doing the finishing touches before the mayhem begins. Taking a few steps into the room, you immediately gets fascinated with the view. The sun was slowly setting down, painting the sky with many shades of red, blue and yellow, a gentle hue of ending day with a city in the background, slowly waking it's lights. 

You watched the distant skyline, clutching the phone in your hand, still no answer from Nat. It made you remember the parties you went to younger, with the only friend present that later left you to stand on the sides, waiting for them to come back and save you from the awkward standing around. "Can I help you Ma'am?" A deep voice asked from behind you, making you jump as you have not heard any footsteps. Turning around, you are suddenly standing face-to-face with Captain America. Advertisements and pictures did him no justice and as he stood before you in black jeans and navy blue button-down shirt that was a size or two smaller, looking more buff and taller than you imagined from what you saw in Smithsonian. 

His face was calm and polite, a pleasant smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes completely, as they held a slight guarded, careful look. "Uhh," you made your best 'intelligent' sound and took a step back, also because looking him in the eyes was ruining your neck, "I came here for the party. I'm Natasha's plus one?" You stammered, baby blue eyes on you felt like as if you were under an X-ray or hooked to a polygraph. This was NOT how you imagined meeting America's Man from the past and before you had a chance to excuse yourself and bail, another male voice sounded from behind Rogers, this time you knew the deep bass with a warm, fun undertone. 

"Who you got over there, Captain?" Sam asked, appearing on the blond's left, smile widening at the sight of you. "Y/N! Glad to see you didn't back out of this." He exclaimed and gave you a big hug, as if you two were friends for years. "And risk Black Widow's anger to rain upon me? I'll rather handle a few snobs for a few hours." You joked as you hugged Wilson back. Knowing Sam Wilson for three days was enough for you to already like the presence of metal-winged superhero. After you two met, he came to the café again with James, filling your time with stories about Avengers while his friend simply listened, adding a quiet remarks here and there. "So, where is Nat? Or Clint? Don't tell me he is trying to hide in the vents again." 

"He tried but Natasha alerted Stark who clogged the vents from air supply." Another voice said. Just as Captain, James made no sound walking even when dressed in formal boots. "Y/N," he softly smiled in greetings and looked back at his friend, "Stark has something to talk about with you, Steve." When James Buchanan Barnes talked to his hero friends, he talked louder, more confident, so different when he talked to you, so quiet and soft, as if afraid he could frighten or hurt you with words alone. Of course, by now you knew who James was. Obviously you have heard about Winter Soldier but after the Triskelion rising to the skies, you completely stopped concerning yourself with whole Hydra/S.H.I.E.L.D. thing, except keeping the contact with Nat but you trusted her to be careful not giving out who she is nor who you are to her.

  "Evening, James." You greeted the man in return, discreetly eyeing his tall figure. There was no denying he was an eye-candy, dressed in black jeans and similar shirt as his friend, two-days scruff giving him rougher look you can't say you minded. What worried you were huge black bags under his eyes, so similar to yours. Clearing your throat, you turned to Sam who was watching you with that one-sided grin of his that made you roll your eyes. "Sam, can you take me to Nat? I'm going to kill her." You said in serious voice that made Falcon snicker and both Super-Soldiers look at you in shock. 

Putting his arm around your shoulder, he pushed you towards another elevator, this one bit smaller, looking like for more of a personal use. "Sure thing Y/N. Captain, Buck, see you in a bit." He said, calling the elevator, giving you time to turn a bit and wave at two men. "You didn't expect this many people? Don't worry, after two or three hours, it' mostly just Avengers and the closest friends." Sam continued mostly his monologue, another reason why you liked one of the most normal human in this place. "By the way, you look charming, Y/N, Nat went nuts with that shopping." He added, motioning to you, making you chuckle. "Thank you Sam, you don't look half-bad yourself." You returned the compliment but by the glint in his eyes, you knew you will regret saying anything. 

"But it seems you'd rather have someone bit broodier, or older to tell you that?" He teased and burst out laughing when you took a weak swing at him, "Calm it, Wilson, I have a pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it." You warned him, dangling the small letter-purse in front of you. Sam raised his hands in mocked defense and got out of the elevator, pointing his finger in nearby room. "That's Nat's room, just knock, she should be inside. See you up there." And with that, he took off. 

Looking at Natasha, who was currently putting on heels, you felt under dressed. In her bright red evening gown that shown most of the back and hugged all the right curves of her body, you wanted to rip your dress from your body and bury yourself in her bed, to wait out the party that was about to start. Nat was not satisfied with your make-up and almost tied you to the chair, giving you 'some details' to your face that made you feel like it was not you anymore. 

"Help me with that, please." Nat turned her back to you, holding a thin necklace in her hand, her necklace with a small silver bow, showing her lasting friendship with Clint. Noticing your smile, she rolled her eyes: "Last time I forgot to put it on, Clint was pouting whole day. It was during a mission, it was kind of annoying." 

"Jesus," you muttered and helped her. Despite looking calm, you could see the sparks of joy in Nat's eyes, probably needing some distraction from work and party was exactly what she needed. Slowly, some of that enthusiasm crawled on you and you too, couldn't wait to meet other Avengers. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Stark is calling everyone in the main hall, party is about to start." Irish female voice warned you two. The zeal that was emitting from Nat almost shocked you, even after knowing her for a few years, you seldomly saw her break the careful mask completely. She was humming some old russian song that sounded like a nursery rhyme. Sneaking her hand around your hip, Nat

 squeezed you to her, a toothy grin full of enthusiasm lightening her face, pulling you towards the first beats of the music. "Let's go!" 

Meeting rest of the Avengers was going surprisingly smooth. Of course, Tony freaking Stark immediately tried to make you tell embarrassing tales of his two assassins. Thankfully, before you could panic and make a fool out of yourself or Clint and Nat, Pepper Potts came and dragged him away, giving you apologetic smile. You bumped into young looking red-head, who introduced herself as Wanda, and felt the connection almost instantly, not something you could say about the man with her, Vision, whose facial expression and way of talk made you nervous, despite being polite. Behind the bar stood Bruce Banner, polite with sense of humor that lots of people wouldn't notice. And lastly, you were officially introduced to Steve Rogers, who now was much more relaxed. With all that handsomeness and beauty around you, you were feeling overloaded, silently thanking that Thor couldn't attend, you doubted you could handle also meeting a God of Thunder.

Party itself went better than you thought it would. For your biggest relief, not that many people came, or better were allowed in. You were not left alone even for a second, with Nat either sticking close to you, glaring at every older man trying to flirt with you or simply dragging you over to bar to get shots. It was tough, despite the smaller frame, you were already feeling the buzz when she just started, laughing it off to her Russian genes. When Nat was called over, almost immediately, Sam, Wanda or Bucky with Steve appeared by your side.

 It was nice feeling, being around people who seemed so honestly nice. As time went, ices started to melt even more, you finding out more about the human beings that laid behind the masks of superheroes. Bruce was much more crazier than he let on, understandably forcing himself to be calm when around unknown people. Tony Stark... was almost batshit crazy and center of attention all the time, trying to make everyone feel welcome while teasing the heck out of them, while Pepper and James Rhodes, who appeared later with bad jokes, tried to save him from himself. Steve was the 'caretaker' of Avengers, making sure everybody behaves, trying his hardest to keep Sam and James, Bucky as he asked you to call him, apart but failed so as two were bickering like a two true brothers. Clint was a walking disaster but that was nothing new to you, as you have already had the pleasure of taking care of him and Nat, when they appeared in your apartment, smashed drunk. That day, Natasha used all your oils to fill the bathtub and bathe for four hours while singing old Russian songs that gave you chills and Clint pulled water balloons out of nowhere and was sniping misbehaving people from your balcony, screaming something in a sense of 'Caw caw, motherfuckers.' 

Around 1am, it was just you and superheroes sprawled across the room. Now Stark was behind the bar, mixing drinks for him and Bruce, using the fact that Pepper went ahead and went to bed. Bruce was nearby, head in clouds with slightly blushed cheeks and all giggles. The rest were hogging the sofas with Rogers standing behind the couch where Bucky sat with Sam, Wanda and Vision. You were on a smaller sofa, in the middle with Nat's hand wrapped around your shoulders and Clint, whose head was almost in your lap, looking ready to pass out for the night. You were content with the way the whole day went, knowing your dreams could be calm at the best. 

Having nightmares of your soulmate was not the worst thing. Now every night was a hurdle you could often not overcome. Your own dreams were treacherous too, flaring up your depressions before laying to the bed. You didn't know your soulmate but it broke your heart, knowing he won't find the serenity from your dreams neither. Tears often appeared before you fell asleep, fearing what kind of horrors awaitens both of you. But today, your mind was fuzzy with alcohol and you were happy, so happy to have been able to not only meet the heroes of the world, but also the people who made Natasha and Clint often so happy too. 

"Okay, it was a very nice meeting all of you but I think it's time for me to head home." You say aloud, making people turn and look at you. "It's quite late, darling. You can take the room next to Red. Or you can hop in with me." Tony said with a wink, sipping from his glass, ignoring the disapproving look from Steve. You chuckled, the flirtiness levels went up higher with every glass of whatever he was drinking. "Can it Stark, or I'm calling Miss Potts back. I live maybe twenty minutes from here, I will survive." You shot back, shaking your head and as you tried to stand up, two hands stopped you. Looking to your left, Clint was doing a puppy eyes, or better, was trying but the alcohol and sleepiness closed one his eyes halfway, making him look just very high. "Clint, no, don't make a puppy eyes, I have things to do tomorrow." You whined while everyone was laughing at Clint. "Nat, tell him, something, you are the wiser one-why the Hell do you do this to me?!" You exclaimed at the sight of your friend, doing so much better job of looking like a kicked puppy. Just the fact she was trying to look so meek was a clear sign just how much she was actually drunk, 'gonna-puke-and-be-very-grumpy-tomorrow' drunk. 

"That's hot look, Red. Friday, save that look in 'Blackmail' file-" Tony's speech was interrupted as Nat's hand flicked and a soft thumb was a sign the cushion hit the target despite the level of drunkenness. Nat cupped your face, ignoring everybody, smiled and whispered in somewhat sad voice: "Won't you stay tonight? You can sleep with me, Котенок(kitten). I may go for a mission soon." You have never seen Nat so soft and it rendered you speechless, so you could only nod, your eyes widening as she immediately smirked, all tenderness gone. "Natasha!!!" You screamed and pounced on her, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed your hands and pushed you down, sitting on you without a problem. "Why do I keep falling for that face?" You sigh, making everyone chuckle and Clint beside you to get up to his knees, giving you a big kiss on the cheek: "Because you are adorably trusting." 

"Fine! But I'm taking your Captain America pjms." You smile wickedly as she froze, while everybody burst out laughing, only Steve looking anywhere but at your direction with a pink flush on his cheeks and Tony who had hurt look on his face. You gave her those pjs about a year ago and she always wore it on your occasional girls night as a joke. "You just started a war you will not win, Y/N." Clint whisper-shouted at you, getting up, stretching up. "I'm gonna go to bed, you will need all the energy with those two around." That was a cue for most of the Avengers to scatter to their rooms, Tony being dragged by Rhodes, being shut after saying he needs to go to his lab. Bucky too, was half-dragged by Steve, his eyes suddenly tense, giving you tight-lipped smile before disappearing behind the elevator doors, his tension rubbing on you from an unknown reason. You felt happy but who knows what dreams will your soulmate have tonight? 

A pillow landed on your lap, making you almost jump out of your skin. "Come, you little traitor. We have a long day before us." Nat took your hand and pulled you off the sofa, her tight grip showing she could tell what's going on in your head. Elevator slowly opened as you sighed. "Hooray." 

Your hands were tied behind your back, pushed on your knees, eyes glued on the floor. Muffled screams and sniffs beside you made you aware of presence of other people. You were in a... living room, cozy and warm, with lots of pictures of a laughing family, board games stacked in the corner. Or it should be warm and cozy. Instead, a group of three men stood before you, dressed in black, one with a strange muzzle hiding his face. This dream, it was-it was different, the usual mist surrounding the figures was thinner, you could see the cold eyes and cruel smirks on their faces. Coming to you, a man raised his hand, smacking you across the face. "Face down, you shield-rat or I'm gonna pay my attention to your wife more." He growled, kicking you in the stomach, making you tumble over with a cough, the pain ever so real. "We don't take kindly to traitors, Weber, did you really think we didn't have you on our radar, you and your pathetic little family?" Man continued his monologue, stopping in front of a boy, barely in his teens, Weber's-your son. "You and your wife are worthless but we might take your son, after a good wiping, he should make a good asset." He laughed at your wife, who started to trash at his words, enjoying the despair. "Raspopov, enough. Take the boy, we have what we wanted." Second man said in bored voice, as if the malicious scene in front of him was nothing. He turned to the passive man behind him, "Get rid of them and clean this place. And make it slow for him." With that, he walked out of the door, Raspopov behind him with trashing boy being dragged by the collar of his shirt. A pained screams from your left were deafening, your wife tried to scurry her way to her son, only to be pushed down by the third man and without hesitation, a shot through her head made her body go limp. A roar, filled the room, by the scratching pain in your throat you knew it was you, Weber. A hand closed on you, gripping your throat and lift you in the air, fist colliding with your face, bone-shattering pain exploded in your head. This was new, never before you felt the pain, the anger and sadness so strongly. The blows were coming and coming, your body broken, thrown on the floor. Boots came in your line of sight, black combat boots were going to be the last thing you will ever see before you heard the cock of a gun. Silently begging for this to stop, you looked up, staring at you were two blue eyes, filled with equal pain and sadness, when the shot turned everything around you into a blackness. 

"Good morning." Natasha chimed at Steve and Bucky while pouring herself a cup of coffee. Super soldiers nodded their head, gulping down the water, still breathing hard from the morning run, while Sam looked ready to die, almost hugging the doors to the kitchen. "Y/N?" Sam squeezed in between the deep breaths, ignoring Bucky who was smirking at him. "Still asleep. I almost didn't get out, she is like an octopus, she wraps around you and drain your warmth until satisfied." She shaked her head. They ended up sleeping together, you wouldn't have Nat sleeping on the sofa and you wouldn't either since she made you stay a night. 

A groan entered the room with Clint, who looked like he was up the whole night. "I need a caffeine." He almost whimpered. Without missing a beat, Nat pushed his giant mug towards him, already filled with his share of coffee. "I hope you bunch didn't leave coffee beans in the sink again. I'm getting real tired of it." Tony entered the room, cranky as every morning with a mark of keyboard on his face he laid on. "Where is our cute guest?" He asked, pondering if to mix his coffee with a bit of whiskey. 

"Not a morning person. I let her sleep since she seemed to be calm-Miss Romanoff" She was cut by Friday, A.I voice pressing. "You are urgently needed in your room. Mrs. Y/L/N is suffering a severe nightmare." The message left the room in total silence, Natasha and Clint sprinting out in a second, before even Tony could open his mouth. 

"Friday, put on the screen and alert Bruce, we might need him." Tony ordered, no trace of fun in his voice. A touch screen rose from the table and revealed the image of a room. Rays of sun lightened the room in pink and orange hue, giving everything happy-go-lucky vibe. A very strong contrast to the sight on the bed, where Y/N laid, trashing around, a blood-curdling screams escaping her lips. "Jesus. I'm going there." Sam shot out, his knowledge in traumas and PTSDs giving him better outlook of what could help. On the screen, a door shut open, Nat and Clint sprinted towards the trashing friend, immediately taking her in her arms, Nat looked at Clint. "Get the wet towel and a bucket or something." She shouted, wincing when one flailing hand hit her just bellow the neck. "Y/N/N? Y/N, wake up, Котенок. It's okay, shh, you are safe." She cooed, the sound of her voice seemed to calm you a slightest bit. Taking a towel from Clint, she gently patted it against your forehead and down your neck, collecting the sweat you were drenched in. With a whimper, you woke up, gasping for air while pushing your hand to your ribs, as if she was in pain. 

"No, please, no, no no no no." You cried, eyes darting around the room, not focusing on anything, trying to pry away from Nat's embrace. You whimpered again as Clint took a step in front of you, taking your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. "Y/N/N, love, it's okay, it's just us. Look at us." He said in soft but resolute voice. "They killed them, Weber....that man, he took their son and kicked me and my wife...Raspopov punched me..." You blabbed, not making any sense, your mind still trapped with image of Weber's dead wife bleeding on the floor, blood and tears soaking in the carpet. Your cheek was slightly hit by a wet cloth, snapping you out of your trance, your eyes moved to Natasha, who held a dripping towel in her hand. "Don't talk, Маленький(Little one). Just breathe." She said, brushing your hair from your face. "I'm going to puke." You gagged and heaved over the bed, just in time for Nat to push the bucket in front of you, emptying your stomach. At the same time, Sam and Bruce arrived, rushing to your side. All four of them worked their way around you, Clint cleaning up the mess while Nat and Sam talked to you in hushed, soft voices, Bruce checking you pulse, eyes and temperature. 

The kitchen was silent. Tony and Steve stood side by side, both face filled with worry and pity. "Well, so much for a calm morning. Must suck, having unstable psycho for a soulmate." Tony stated, his voice much more silent, his knuckles white from the strength he was gripping his hands, remembering the time of his own nightmares which he used to wake up to, mixed with cries and panics of Pepper. Steve just nodded, his eyes found Bucky, eyebrow creasing. "Buck, are you okay?" He asked, gripping his friend's shoulder, taking in Bucky's horror-filled eyes, pale face and shaky figure. Nightmares were almost a constant visitor of Bucky's and he never took it well when anybody else had the same problem. "Buck! Breathe!" Steve shook his friend and looked in his eyes as he whispered: "Those names." Bucky breathed in as if he was sucker-punched in the stomach. Steve's face was confused for a second, eyes widening at his best friend when he realized his words. 

"Buck," he took him by arm, dragging him out, ignoring Tony's curious eyes, "do you know those names?" Putting his hand over his mouth, Bucky muttered, sounding nauseous and broken. "Raspopov was Hydra's main interrogator. Worse version of Rumlow. Weber was S.H.HI.E.L.D.'s double agent." Bucky raised his eyes in Steve's, self-resentment and disgust making Steve unable to react, "I killed him and his family." Before blond super-soldier could say something, the dark-haired one gripped his shoulder with his metal hand, enhancing the need in his eyes. "Steve, she can't know. Promise me, you will not tell her who I am!" His deep voice breaking at the thought, he could see the fear and disgust the second you would find out. 

For so long, Bucky thought he never had a soulmate. Back in 40's, he was heartbroken as he never experienced the feeling of sharing his dreams that everyone described. To diverse his mind from the pain in his heart, he dated a lots of girls, later watching as some of them met their soulmates, or how they left him in hope of meeting their destined one. Then his enlistment came, changing his life to a swirl of pain and years of emptiness. He still remembered so vividly the first time his dreams was not his only. Even the wiping chair couldn't stop his excitement when the swirling rainbow of colors and shapes appeared in his dreams and pure feelings, feelings of love, happiness, even repeating felling of hunger and soft anger made him snap out of his Winter Soldier trance. The beating he got that day almost killed him but he didn't care, his last thoughts before he was shoved into the chair was of his soulmate, his little soulmate who was just born, the feeling so strong he cried the first time in forever. And that little nub of happiness was his, regardless of number of wipings he went through. The dread and guilt he felt when he woke up the first time to the nightmare full of violence and pain and desperation, the nightmare that was not his and yet so similar, made him so sick even Stark looked mildly concerned. 

Disagreeing look on Steve's face was not a good sign, he knew 'the talk' was coming and rose to his feets, taking his leave. "Her knowing is not going to change anything, so I why not prevent the bigger heartbreak?" Bucky said bitterly. "That decision is not yours alone, Buck, she deserves to know. She might understand." Steve called after him but he met just silence. A presence behind Steve made him turn around, cold sweat breaking out as he noticed Tony standing in the doorway, his typical smirk somewhat bitter-looking. "Tony." Steve's warning tone was once again met with silence as Tony zipped his mouth with his hand, a gesture completely and painfully pointless when it came to Tony. Sighing, Steve ran a hand down his face. "You've got to be shitting me." 

Exiting her room, Nat stopped as Bucky turned around the corner, strange look in his eyes. "How's-how's Y/N?" He asked, looking somewhere above her eyes. "Bruce took her to infirmary, alcohol, puking and sweating made her heavily dehydrated so he will put her on IV drip. And give her something to calm down." Nat answered, eyes boring in Bucky's, making him squirm, even the former assassin couldn't help but be nervous being under Black Widow's radar. "She is suffering from nightmares long before I have met her and she tells me her dreams. If she will ever meet her soulmate and it will be some sadistic asshole, I'm most probably put a bullet through his brain." Nat's voice was casual, if not a little bit cold and her eyes were shining, challenging Bucky to say the truth she had a hunch about. 

"What are the chances she will meet him?" Bucky asked bitterly and turned back around, turned his back to the person he wanted but didn't deserve.

Few days passed after the party and your sleep-over faux pas. Apologizing profusely while leaving, everybody just waved it off, only asking about your health, Stark looking like he wanted to say something every time you made a short visit but changed his mind, unknown to you, due to James or Steve sending a death glare his way. Nightmares didn't stop, even got worse in some sense as now, as you guessed, they mixed with your own and the man with muzzle now killed your new made friends, making you call Nat and Clint more than ever. James started to come to your work more often too, sometimes with Sam in a tow, his big blue eyes full of concern that warmed your heart. Faint voice in your head seemed to always try to tell you something when tall super-soldier was around but you ignored it, something in you not wanting to hear it out, reveling in the ignorance. 

Days turned to weeks and Tony invited you to another party, Avengers and friends only. From Nat, you knew it was his way how to lift the mood in the Tower after a recent bad mission that made even Clint snarky and that was something you have rarely seen. Despite the circumstances, you gladly went. You liked being around Avengers, their friendship that went beyond just having each others back made the atmosphere around them warm. And you would be lying if you would say that you didn't miss a certain brown-haired soldier. 

With Nat going to missions more than often, Bucky now was your safe heaven, he was a smooth talker once you get to know him and his deep voice always made you forget your dreams, at least for a while. He told you about himself a lot, leaving the gruesome Hydra parts, but just as he never forced you to talk about your dreams, you never asked him more about his times as a asset. More than once have you thought he was your soulmate, more than once have you bit your tongue, stopping yourself asking the words. It wouldn't change anything, a person like him needed somebody stronger, less pathetic by his side, you thought, angry and disappointed at yourself. He wouldn't need a woman who became broken from the dreams of someone else. 

The party was held on the Friday night. Your bag was little heavier, prepared for the sleepover you knew you couldn't escape, not with Nat and her screenshot of a fancy bottle of Gin for you and Vodka for her she'd sent you. Getting in the Tower was not a painful procedure to you anymore, as now you were known by every receptionist and Friday, whom you asked to call you Y/N, now opened every door without asking and you were finally not jumping as a frightened cat every time she talked. The mood upstairs was better than you expected, most likely because a Norse demi-god was in the room, booming loud voice cheerful. You had met Thor before and even though Bucky was slowly taking over your mind, it was hard not to stare at the tall blonde who stood with his hand thrown around Tony's shoulder, making him look almost tiny. 

"Lady Y/N!" Thor called, making everyone turn their attention to you. Smile creeped on your face as a wave of greetings came your way, Natasha immediately handing you the glass that almost instantly burned your eyes a little and a quick peck on the cheek. Coming closer, Thor bent down and gave you a bear hug, all air leaving your body. "I was told you were coming tonight. How are you?" Above his slouched shoulder´, you noticed Steve, Sam and Bucky standing nearby, Sam and Steve looking at Bucky, who was watching you, smiling as your eyes met, repaying the small wave you sent him with your free hand. "Quite normal, Thor, just bit tired. How's space?" You laughed breathlessly, tapping his side to let you go. "Space is fine, feasts of Lithasblot are beginning soon. Or, midsummer, as you Midgardians call it." He smiled, taking a sip from his drink, from which even from afar, you could pick up the strong, very strong smell of alcohol. 

Going around, you made a quick circle around the room to say your 'Hi' to everyone, until you came to 'army group'. Nudging Bucky to the side, you grinned at the cup in his hand. "I thought alcohol has no effect on super-soldiers?" You asked, small 'oompf' escaping you as you took a sip from your own glass. "It does not but Thor brought some of his Asgardian stuff." He laughed, scrunching his nose in the most adorable way that made you stare. He was not laughing enough but with the brainfarts it gave you when he did, maybe it was a good thing. "Will we see you and Steve wasted tonight? Cuz I bet Stark is ready to record it anytime." You said slowly, trying to change your focus to his eyes, not making it any better. Maybe it was the alcohol but the usual soft blue was almost gone, replaced by darker shade that made your stomach twist. "Everybody needs a good bender every now and then. I just missed mine for couple of decades." He joked and as he said, even that barely noticeable tension that hung around the room was gone. "Then, cheers to occasional 'benders'. You mused, downing your drink and took Sam's offer to get you another one. 

The night was flying by fast. Around 1am, there was not a single sober person, Bruce excluded, who watched from behind the bar with drunk Nat. At the spur of a moment, Tony challenged you to a dance-off, in which you totally destroyed him, surprising everyone, just Nat and Clint knowing that once you have alcohol in you, you dance without the care of the world around you. Around 3am, everyone stood around the table, watching Thor and Steve arm wrestle. Steve was holding on pretty good but the game was over when the table below them gave up and broke. Around 4:30am, right after Tony was trying to do mini striptease on the table, some more clever people, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Bruce and surprisingly Steve, who looked pumped up and more relaxed than you've ever seen, called it a night and went to bed. Clint was already asleep, curled below the other table, while Tony was taking pictures of him in weird angles, eyeing the sharpie on the table. Thor was talking with Bucky on the balcony and you were now behind the bar, poking Nat in her cheeks, trying to make her drink some water because hungover Nat the next morning is not a pleasant experience. Helping her lay down on the couch, you massaged your eyes, big yawn foretold you about the coma you will have once in the bed. Your senses were still numb and slow as a warm hand landed on the small of your back. 

In greyish light of the early morning, Bucky was smiling at you, eyes soft and much more focused than you thought they would be after the amount of Asgardian alcohol he and Steve downed. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed," he whispered. Looking around, you must have dozed off as now you were sitting next to the sofa, no sight of Thor and Tony was sleeping on the bar counter, Nat dead to the world, curled in a small ball. Standing up, your legs wobbled, resembling a newborn fawn. "My legs fell asleep." You giggled, obviously still drunk. 

Bucky smiled down at you, your wobbly form trying to get up from the floor, so vulnerable and weak on it's own way. After that night, when he realized you are his soulmate, the dam in his heart began to crumble, the need to be around you stronger everyday. So many times he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying the words he told Steve to never utter in presence of others. The pain in his soul was slowly becoming unbearable, seeing your eyes losing their gleam each time night hour approached, every time dreams and soulmates were discussed. 

"Raise your hands, doll." His little pet name didn't seem to faze you, as your hands shot up towards him immediately, her face pretty despite the dark circles under her eyes. Your body fitted his perfectly, your head right below his chin as he held you in princess hold, like two pieces from the same broken statue pressed together once again. Bucky's heart skipped a beat when he caught a whiff of your smell,. He couldn't identify the sweet scent but he could say with clear conscience it was the best smell he ever smelled. 

Elevator down was quiet, occasionally filling the silence were your consent hums as you laid in Bucky's arm, half asleep. Bucky's footsteps still silent as he entered Natasha's room. Your body relaxed at the familiar scent of Nat's bed as Bucky took off your heels. "Don't fall asleep yet, doll." Bucky whispered and playfully pried the comforter from your hands as you tried to cover your face, loud giggled bursting from beneath the thin cloth. 

Quiet shuffling on the other side of the comforter told you Bucky left the bedroom, clanking noise from the bathroom made you stick out your head, watching him put down the bucket next to the bed and glass full of water pushed towards you. 

"I'm not that drunk." You said kicking off the comforter from you, only making it tangle around your feet. Looking up in annoyance, you almost stopped breathing at the sight of Bucky with the softest smile, crouching next to the bed. "Drink the water, dolly, you'll thank me later when you wake up." He pressed the cold glass in your hands. "Nat is keeping some Advil in the nightstand if you need it later." It was impossible to miss the care in his eyes and as you downed the drink, you followed his figure as he went to get you another one, shamelessly eyeing his muscular back, narrow hips with killer legs. Bed sheets were deliciously cool against your hot skin, snuggling in, you felt the sleepiness take over. Last thing you felt was a gentle hand tugging the hair out of your face and inaudible voice wishing you a good night. 

You were riding a motorbike, rear lights of a car a few meters ahead of you. Your mind was set on the mission, hydra's officer's words resonating in your head: "Eliminate the target and obtain the package they carry. No witnesses, seemingly an unfortunate accident." The voice of the handler cold, emotionless, pure poison and cruelty in a form of a voice, so different from your own pain and refusal in your soul, in your heart. And yet, your head slightly nodded, turning around your body towards the armory. The sound of a speeding bike is replaced by loud breathing, short, pained gasps for air and distant cries, a woman's voice calling the name of bloodied man lying on the ground, his name filling you with confusion and guilt and another pain. "Sergeant Barnes?" Your breath hitched in your lungs, hand pulled behind ready to strike before orders flowed in your head again and your fist collided with his face and twice more, blood splurting from the face, man fell down, motionless. Pain got worse, stomach twisting so much it felt like a knife pierced through, your own voice screaming inside the head, you fought against the power that made your legs move, long steps around the car. Reaching to the passenger seat, your hand grasped on the petite throat, squeezing- 

"NO!" You shouted, breathlessly looking around the room, gasping for air as bright Sun blinded you. Sudden change of surrounding left you speechless, never before could you escape the dream by your own will, always forced to see till the very end. 

It was morning, not early enough to make you fall back asleep and not late enough to make you feel bad of wasting a day dawdling around in bed. Sickly sweet-sour taste in your mouth and persistent thumps in your head reminded you of your another alcoholic lunacy with Avengers. You sighed as your eyes landed on the pills with a water nearby. With tight jaw, you reached for them, setting your mind on the sudden goal. You were gonna talk to Bucky today, no more tip-toeing around. 

Bigger part of Avengers was already up, even though some of them probably wished they were not, seeing Nat's and Tony's, even Steve's red eyes and groans that followed every loud noise. Bucky was standing next to Sam at the door entrance, both snickering at Steve, not even trying to hide their amusement. His tired blue eyes darkening in worry as you strode in, waving your greetings, your eyes finding his immediately. 

"Bucky, can I talk to you?" You asked, gently tugging his sleeve towards the living room. There was no coming back from this anymore. You were too tired of this whole situation and so was he, obviously, even though he seemed more denial. Your hands were sweaty as you looked pointedly in his cautious, yet sad eyes. You had no doubt now of who was Bucky anymore, not after this last nightmare, all your anger, blame and distrust gone, just a bottomless pit of pity and guilt towards the man whose soulmate was just a poor example of one. "Don't." He whispered ever so softly, word carrying a hundred of years of pain and insecurities, his eyes darting to Tony, who cleared his throat. 

"Finally having your 'soulmate talk'?" He quipped, brushing off the death glare from almost everyone in the room. "Good luck though, with Manchurian here, he might try to gut you later." He continued and looked rather coldly as Bucky quickly stomped out of the room. Anger flared inside you as a burning Sun, your quick steps towards Tony left everyone with hanging mouths. "You have no right to say that!" You seethed at older man, who was now looking at you with raised eyebrow, a move that normally made you smirk now pissing you off even more. "Considering he killed my parents and almost shot me in the face, I think I have all rights to say that." 

"You have no right to say that when you have no idea of how much guilt and pain he was in when he dreamt about that night. Not after he re-lives every goddamn thing they made him do in his dreams, not when you do not hear the pleas in he screams in his head!" You stepped back, not noticing Tony's eyes softening at the sight of your trembling form. "I witnessed all that since I was a baby, so don't you dare call him names, Stark." You growled as you sprinted out of the room, leaving the room in silence. 

"Bucky?" You called out, he was nowhere to be found in the living room, the door to the balcony opened. He stood outside, head hanging low, hands gripping the railing, his metal hand clearly bending the frail metal. 

He heard you behind him, you could tell from the way his whole body went stiff and so incredibly still, looking as a statue. "Bucky..." Sigh escaped your lips as he slowly turned around, not looking you in your eyes, staring somewhere above your head. Silence fell as both of you just stood there, your sudden confidence disappearing. 

"I underst-," he started and stopped, swallowing nervously he tried again. "I understand if you do not want to have anything to do with me." His words, pained, quiet and yet so loud in your ears shocked you, this was not what you expected to hear from him. 

"What?" You pushed out in tiny voice of disbelief. The look on his face told you the meaning behind his words, shame and guilt and disgust all over his handsome face, painting a dark shadow over it. "Are you kidding me right now?!" You rose your voice an octave, making Bucky flinch. "What does that mean?" You stepped towards him and your question tore down the wall Bucky laid down so carefully, as the words shot out of him in rapid fire. 

"You don't deserve somebody like me. What right do I have to be near you when only thing I can possibly give you are another nightmares, those visions of the brutalities I have done. Just pain, fear, guilt and shame of having no normal soulmate. My fuckedness is so strong that I haven't seen your dreams for years! If my nights are not filled with horrors of my sins, all I feel is another pain and just how hollow and weak I am and-Except those feelings are mine!" You screamed over him, shutting him up effectively. 

"Your nightmares are understandable, they made you do those things against your will. But those feelings, that emptiness and pain, those are mine. I should be your soulmate, the one that should give you the support, not make you feel all those useless feelings. How can you think of yourself as weak? After all you went through you are pushing through life while I tried to-" You stop yourself from saying those words, hands picking on the loose thread of the shirt's sleeves, made in a style of a fingerless gloves, hiding the hideous scars, a proof of your weakness. 

Bucky's eyes trailed down eyes wide with horror as he grasped the meaning behind your words. "You tried to-" He didn't finish the sentence as you clasped your hands over your ears, shaking your head slightly as you started to walk backwards, panic filling your eyes. You didn't want to tell him that piece of information, you didn't want him to know of the time when the depression got so bad it made you cut yourself, deep enough to put you in hospital. "Doll. Don't leave me. Not now." His desperate whisper stopped you, your cheeks covered in tears that now flew freely, tears you never planned on showing to world. 

"You deserve better." You whispered in broken voice. "You deserve a strong soulmate by your side, a soulmate that is not so weak, so pathetic, so stupid and naive and-" Your self-cussing was stopped as Bucky was suddenly in front of you, moving from his spot in a matter of a second, hands clasping your cheeks and lips planting on yours. His face was wet, stained by the tears he shed when looking at your frail form, his heart breaking at the sight. 

Kiss was a needy movements of lips, all years of loneliness, of pain and separation poured in that one moment. "You are none of that." Bucky whispered in your lips, planting one on your forehead, touch softer than a butterfly wings. "You are brave," another one, this time on your cheek, "beautiful," other cheek, "strong," each eyelid getting their own little love, fluttering close. "So kind and understanding." He looked you in the eyes, his blue orbs crystal clear, so honest it just made your tears flow faster. "You are everything and so much more. You are all I need and want, even though I don't deserve you." He softly caressed your cheeks, wiping away little droplets of salty water. Despite the people using him for horrible, dirty deeds, he was still able to open up, to love and trust, his soul so kind and bright he able to calm you, assure you and tell you what you needed to hear so much, while not asking anything back. 

Taking a step back, you pressed your palm on his chest, his heart beating just as fast as yours. “We are a pair of idiots, aren’t we?” You laughed, wiping your face. Bucky chuckled and pressed his hand on your cheek. His face looked calm but his eyes still held some of the pain and insecurity. 

“I,” you took a deep breath, thinking hard about your next words, “I’m not confident to be your support all the time. I, I have my own emotional luggage. There are days when I’m just a huge pain in the ass or I don’t even talk. But, I’m willing to try.” You said looking down, feeling of letting him down gnawing on your mind. Your eyes shot back up as a warm hand lifted your chin and Bucky kissed you again.

“You are not alone in this but, it takes two to tango, doll.” He smiled brightly, that face almost made your heart stop beating. “I really hope Nat won’t kill me when she sees your face, she is very protective of you.” He muttered as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Right now,” you giggled, “I think Tony is the one in real danger. Shall we save him?” You asked and laughed out as Bucky picked you up and buried your face in your chest, shaking his head while his eyes looked in yours, drowning you in love. “I will leave it to Steve today.”

“Okay Red, you can let me go now, my role as an asshole is over.” Tony said, tapping Natasha’s arm that was wrapped around his neck, keeping him bowed down. All Avengers were standing in the living room, looking through glass at you and Bucky talk and hug, being the overprotective family as always. “Don’t look at me like that, Rogers. A soulmate that doesn’t defend their other half is a bitchy thing. I wouldn’t wish that to Snow White.”

The End