#fuck tony stark fans

[thompsborn]

14 years old, only like a month into being spider-man, peter takes down a mugger and the guy is cursing peter out and peter just calmly says "i'm fourteen" and watches this dude have a crisis

"no you're not"

"i literally am. did you not hear my voice cracking every two seconds? pretty sure i only started going through puberty last week"

"you're lying"

"believe what you want"

"why would you tell me that if it's true"

"because no one will believe you and i think that's funny. also i want you to know that you just lost to a freshman in high school. even if you don't believe me, you can't prove that i'm lying. this is never going to leave your brain. i won the physical fight and now i'm playing with psychological warfare. and i called the cops. anyways, bye!"

mugger gets arrested and is like "no seriously i swear to god he was in these like red and blue pajamas and had a mask and goggles and he said he was fourteen and psychological warfare and-"

[3twindragons]

Some after mission ahhh * cough * ...cuddling?

.... "rough cuddling" ?

[thousandyearphantombunker]

My baby girls with hero complexes 😍🥰❤️

This is a safe place for Belos and James lovers!

We've both been called genocide apologists because we like fictional characters no matter how many times I explain that I think James committing genocide was ooc or how Belos just doesn't work as a villain for me because the 'realistic horrors of homophobia/racism'- weren't portrayed well at all! But uhh apparently that makes us genocide apologists

considering having a sane conversation surrounding these men is impossible us fans might as well just start saying our faves have done nothing wrong to piss people off

Like yes kings slay! Shoot Sleet and brand people's wrists! These men have done nothing wrong in their lives ever!

[tincanmans]

Kinda crazy that Iron Man had to lobotomize himself in the comics and start an entire cinematic universe in order to get the creep of Civil War off himself. And it’s still a looming shadow over everything he does.

[las-lus]

The thing is. I get why some fans get annoyed when the rest of the fandom acts like they know better than the creator(s) of the characters, and I get that it's inherently funny to say that something that canonically happened on screen is Out Of Character. And yes, sometimes fans are objectively wrong, sometimes we over-project on a character, or just ignore canon a little too much to suit our headcanons, or just are fucking wrong.

But

Sometimes. Sometimes shows last too long and change writers one too many times. Sometimes something runs for longer than it should and the creators are just doing an easy cash grab. Sometimes the creators themselves change so violently during the process of creating that they cannot recognize what they originally made. Sometimes they are so prejudiced they get blinded by their own hatred. And when this happens, the reality is that fandom simply cares more than whoever is making the thing. We care more, pay more attention to detail, rewatch more often, remember more. And when this happens we absolutely are right to call something OOC, bad or simply bullshit.

And listen YES this post is about Dean Winchester but its also not! It's about so many characters!! Sometimes fanon sucks but sometimes it IS better, more complete in our heads. Sometimes we DO know better than the writers.

[wise-writer-girl]

Guess who's been sick for two weeks now I'm improving now so I decided to draw a little, here's the print on the t-shirts :)

I'm kidding, I'm kidding, but I would really love it if you gave your opinion on how the print would look better <3

(and maybe I was also procrastinating because I literally did two years of graphic design and still can't think of anything good)

I really don't mind changing anything like the color for example :)

AAAAAHHHH ITS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL OMG!!!!!!

(also, the Loki-symbol looking one is actually so funny, you don't understand, im cackling)

I especially love the classy first one where its just written out in the sparkly green and I LOVE THE COLOR SCHEME, BESTIE IM SHAKING!!!!

Feel better and thank you so much for sharing your incredible work with me, it means so much!!!!!! <3<3<3

[aahsokaatano]

absolutely exhausted by people who feel the need to shout about how much they hate a particular character when you mention them in passing

Like okay. Whatever. That wasn't the topic of conversation, and now I don't even want to go back to what we were talking about because you're being so fucking irritating about this. Bye.

[fuckedupsociety155]

As a peruvian, I approve the message of what if...? S2e06.

[bridoesotherjunk]

so I saw this article today

That says "5 years later, Sony still doesn't understand why it's biggest spider-verse hit worked"

And the article mainly talks about how the Venom films are self contained and don't try to be films in a cinematic universe. They have a clear identity. Yes, there is no Spider-Man in them, and that's okay because they knew what they wanted to do without him when they made the films. They even say at one point "the Venom films are not for everyone, but at least they know what they are"

This is something I personally have talked about many times. And I've seen other Venom fans talk about. And what I'm seeing MCU fans starting to say more and more now. The movies work when they have a clear story and identity and don't feel interchangeable or formulaic.

You could take any Disney plus marvel show or 'phase 4' movie and switch the characters around and the story would probably stay largely the same, or at least feel the same. We all know what I mean right? The characters all make quips like Tony Stark no matter if it is in character or not. They talk and act the same.

But the Venom films? You couldn't take Tom Hardy's Eddie and swap him with the mcu cast. He acts so differently than 90% of them, he wouldn't fit in. He's fucking weird and unhinged and is very much Tom Hardy's brain child.

.

Also the Venom movies worked because queer people liked them. The films were hugely popular with LGBT audiences but you didn't hear that from me 👀👀👀👀

[dalekofchaos]

Doctor Doom gets ruined AND WHITEWASHED AGAIN!

4 attempts to get Doctor Doom right

4

And we STILL can’t get this right

A master of magic and science. A man who rivals Doctor Strange and Reed Richards as the most powerful sorcerer and the smartest man alive. He rules an entire country with an army of Doombots. Considered to be one of the greatest Marvel villains. And they still can't get him right. They have to make him a fucking Tony Stark variant. Tony Stark is not Victor Von Doom and Doom is above Tony Stark.

Victor wearing the mask always is integral to his appeal and aura like Vader's mask. It not only hides his vain scars he caused due to his failures, but it closes him off from humanity and makes him believe he’s beyond it.

As far as I'm concerned Marvel Ultimate Alliance and EMH are the only good adaptations of Doom

Doctor Doom being a romani man with a background CENTERING his family's racial persecution. with his ethnicity at the forefront of his motivations and his tragedy. and they really just brought back Robert Downey Jr.

Being romani is INTEGRAL to doom’s character and without that he’s not doom. he NEEDS to be romani and played by a romani character. full stop, don't believe me? Read Book Of Dooms.

Since 1964 Victor von Doom has been established as a Romani character. His childhood was filled with antiziganism and his parents deaths were caused by it. This later led him to become Doctor Doom and overthrow the Latverian government to protect his people

I am so fucking sick and tired of this whitewashing bullshit and the ethnoerasure of Marvel characters.

The Maximoff Twins, The Ancient One, Moon Knight and now fucking Doom.

God fucking forbid an actual Romani actor PLAYS A ROMANI CHARACTER.

But no they pulled another fucking multiverse shit all so RDJ could return and it all feels like blackface from Tropic Thunder

I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING SHIT ABOUT ANTHONY STARK FROM EARTH-11029 OR INFAMOUS IRON MAN

If you wanted evil Iron Man so fucking bad, why didn't you just do Superior Iron Man?

The LAZIEST, DUMBEST, most CONTRIVED BULLSHIT casting ever, Marvel continues to not beat the whitewashing allegations. Doctor Doom deserved better.

Romani actor Charlie Clapman was right fucking there AND HE ENDORSED IT!

I'd even suggest Romani actor Óscar Jaenada as Doom. Again another Roma actor who's actively interested in playing Doom

And you know what? As bad as the 1994 movie was, Joseph Culp the first actor to play Doom in the Fantastic Four (1994) movie by Oley Sassone & Richard Corman. Culp was also white but he very clearly cared for the comics background of Victor von Doom

and you also know damn well they're going to erase everything about Magneto too that makes him who he is… which is his entire fucking background. how horrible of a person do you have to be to repeatedly disrespect the minorities who created these stories?

Doctor Doom is Roma Romani. He is not white. The MCU loves to whitewash its Roma and Jewish characters and it’s time we called them out for it. Dr Doom is not a white man, he is Roma!

They will never nail down the complexity of Victor Von Doom

Every year Doom goes to hell to fight Mephisto to rescue the soul of his mother. He finally won her soul with the help of Doctor Strange only for her to reject him.

No evil Stark replicant will ever fucking match the complexity of Victor Von Doom.

I don't care if this is a one time thing for RDJ. They specifically chose to do this when the fans were begging for a fucking Romani actor. It also doesn't fucking help that Marvel has erased nearly EVERY fucking ethnic character has been whitewashed.

Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver: Erased Romani heritage and whitewashed. Moon Knight & Wiccan: Casted non-Jewish actors. Sabra: Featured in anything at all, and actress is an IDF soldier to make matters worse.

The MCU is full of ethnic erasure, military propaganda & racism. it’s disgusting this is continuing with Dr Doom’s casting. remember to continue to boycott marvel, because of the genocide they support by casting an iof solider to play a character from the zionist terrorist occupation

Dr Doom is one of those villains that it should be IMPOSSIBLE to fuck up but wasting him on a cheap Iron Man nostalgia casting pop might be the way

[lokisgoodgirl]

Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.

“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.

Charming. You smiled.

Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.

But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.

“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”

You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.

Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.

A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?

He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.

Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.

“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”

The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.

Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.

Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.

“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”

Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.

The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.

Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.

Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.

“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.

“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.

And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.

Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-

“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.

Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.

Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-

“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.

Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”

Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.

Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.

“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”

“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.

There was silence.

“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”

Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”

Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.

But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.

“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.

“Ah,” you smiled.

Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.

“Are you?” you replied.

Loki squeezed once.

The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.

Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.

All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.

He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.

He winked.

Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.

Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.

For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.

Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.

With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.

You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.

Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.

Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.

“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.

The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.

Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.

‘Please welcome-’

“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.

Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.

The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.

Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.

Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”

Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.

He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.

Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.

The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.

Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.

Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.

One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.

As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.

(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.

The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.

Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.

There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.

Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”

Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.

You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.

For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.

Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.

“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.

He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.

It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.

He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.

The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.

“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.

“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.

The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.

Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.

“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.

Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.

“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.

Red and blue, not red and green.

The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.

Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.

“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.

Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.

“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.

“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.

Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.

“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.

“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.

Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.

The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.

‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.

“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.

From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.

The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.

It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.

“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.

You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.

He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.

Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”

Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.

You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.

The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.

Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.

It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.

He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.

A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter one: the bolter

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

warnings: language, self deprecation, mentions of school bullying(?)

word count: 1.6k

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! I used to write fan fiction a few years back as a weird, lonely teenager, and this is me making a comeback! I have a few original works I like to write, but that's about it. I know a lot of you guys have been waiting for a while, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please feel free to comment any plot theories or thoughts! :)

Pathetic fallacy is a fucking bitch. Steve’s been away for a day or two, off to Wakanda, and everyone’s here, faces sour over grey clouds and heavy downpour, busy making preparations for the big day. He says that his best friend is coming home, finally, where he belongs.

Everyone’s heard of this best friend in question — James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends are a bit skeptical, afraid he’ll come with his eyes painted as dark as the night sky and his hair long in some lab rat’s defiance. You can’t help but fear the same.

When you were hired to work as a nurse in the Tower’s infirmary, you’d kept to yourself. It’s a wonder anyone’s wanting to give you a job after the way you were fired from your last one, let alone Tony fucking Stark, taking pity and picking you off the streets of a foreign country. You’re currently perched on a wobbly stepladder, trying your best to not fall headfirst as you stand vulnerable, trying to push the damn pin into the sign that reads Welcome Home, Bucky! In sloppy, maroon handwriting made entirely by you, ever since you heard it was his favourite colour.

You wonder if it could’ve been a poor choice considering the striking resemblance to blood — the same colour as your shirt, white coat long forgotten over the back of the couch in the main communal living area. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” comes a gruff voice from beside you. 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honestly. Can you go check to see if the quinjet’s landed?” You glance down, and directly into deep blue, entranced by the hypnotic hue. No dark paint, hair cropped messy over the crown of his head. Dressed in a sweater the same colour as yours, and you could’ve sworn it’s like fate. 

“Bucky,” you breathed. Bucky? What is he already doing here? He’s not supposed to be for another hour or two? These are just some of your racing thoughts as you examine his face, looking as bright as fucking sunshine. And then you stumble, the ladder giving out from under you and you yelp, expecting to come plummeting to the cold, hard ground. And instead, warm arms envelop you instead, holding you firm to his chest as you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t usually fall like this I promise.” He looks directly at you, and you register he hasn’t set you down yet, still holding on tightly. He laughs, the vibrations igniting something inside your chest, the flame spreading itself all over your cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s your name, beautiful?” He gently helps you place your feet on the floor, and you find yourself desperate to cling to his warmth once again but letting him go, blushing at his compliment. As if it couldn’t get any worse, he’s probably a smooth charmer, fuck. You stumble a little bit over your words as you give him your name and he runs it over his tongue.

Has your name always sounded this pretty? Especially spoken in that gruff, heavenly voice of his?

“I, I thought you weren’t supposed to be here for another hour, we’re still setting—.” You look around, only to find the room completely empty and every decoration in its perfect place, save the ladder now laying on its side in one corner.  When had everyone finished, and why have they all just left?

“They’re all talking to Steve.” He attaches your name at the end of it like a newly discovered drug he’s desperate for another hit of. You tilt your head, a million questions on the tip of your tongue.

“It was really loud in there. Steve takes all the attention anyway, so I used that moment to sneak out.” Your heart breaks for him. This was supposed to be his party, but you offer him some reassurance instead.

“Well, I know we just met but when they all come piling in here to give you a big hug and bring all the noise with them, you can come to me. I know what it’s like, but for now…welcome home!” You awkwardly gesture to the sign behind you, giving him jazz hands. He chuckles and nods his head in thanks, making you smile. 

“Now what’s your favourite baked treat? I heard you like just basic brownies?” His grin only widens. “Yeah, I do love basic brownies.” You gasp in joy, glad to get it right, practically skipping to wrap one and hand it to him. 

He tentatively takes it from your hands, ensuring they brush and one more spark flies into the raw distance between you and him, and you don’t miss the way his beautiful ocean eyes flutter at the contact. You clasp your suddenly sweaty palms around each other, patiently waiting for him to take a bite, and the second his pearly teeth dig into the sweet treat in a way that makes your heart run hot, the noise arrives. 

A cacophony of shouts and cheers make the both of you flinch as Steve walks up to his best friend, attacking him in a hug. “So happy you’re back Bucky!” And takes a bite out of the brownie in his hand as he turns to me, moaning.

“Did you make this? It tastes amazing, dear.” You beam at his praise, nodding along when your eyes fall back on the ladder, long forgotten in the now crowded room. You wouldn’t say you’re lonely, after all, Natasha and Wanda are some of your best friends in your current situation, but they’re almost always off on missions and all the nurses love to talk about is the Star Spangled Man they’d just die to get in their beds. When you first arrived, you were almost always found silently chuckling in the corner, always wanting what you can’t have. Now, your days are always busy, being jetted off on missions once Tony finished the extensive background check on you and letting you figure out who you work the best with. But still, all the days staying silent and to yourself have left you quite…left out. Even as the masses party around you, you feel oddly still. Stagnant, almost.

“Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, I need to go put the ladder away.” You point, and both super soldiers follow your finger, when Bucky interrupts.

“It looks really heavy, let me carry it for you,” he all but begs, a pleading look in his eyes to be taken away from all this din. You glance at Steve who doesn’t argue, letting his gorgeous friend do whatever the fuck he wants. The look on his face is smug and omniscient, as if privy to a secret you’re on the outside of when he glances between you and Bucky. 

You decide to take mercy on his poor soul. “That would be lovely thank you.” You smile politely, moving off in the direction of the bright yellow ladder, trying your best to not stare at Bucky’s bulging muscles rippling beneath his sweater with your mouth so wide open. And to ignore the heat in the pit of your belly at the ease with which he does so, as if the hunk of metal you struggled with for an hour is only a feather to him. 

You lead him to the storage room in silence, thinking it best to not overwhelm him with questions in a saccharine tone. “Thank you, I know it’s really heavy.” You stand in the doorway as he walks up to meet you, and you push yourself as hard as you can against the doorframe so he can pass, but he hovers. Inches away from you. You stare up into his beautiful eyes, taking a quiet moment to admire his pulchritude. Full lips more pink than a spring flower, stubble just enough to catch on your hand if you were to touch him. Cheekbones carved by the careful hands of the Gods themselves, so well-versed in human attraction. How is anyone not to fall in love with him when he can haunt you so stunningly? 

You’re so lost in him you don’t register the lean of his body closer to you, intent on studying your face right back, hellbent on memorising the constellations of your moles and spots. You swallow dryly, unsure of what to do. Is the tension so palpable that he feels it too? Surely not.

Being the way you are, you’re no stranger to rejection. Or to have nobody feel anything for you in the desolate wasteland of your youth, all the nights you’ve screamed at the sky to feel just one genuine connection and all the days you’ve tried to accept it and move on. It’s not the people around you, they are the understanding ones, and apart from one man, someone is yet to treat you like you fear they would.

But someone is yet to truly love you. To truly want you. 

And you highly doubt it’s going to be Bucky Barnes, man whose house can be found in the highest echelons of heaven. Stick to safer things, you try to remind yourself but when your eyes fall back into his, that flies straight out the window. You find yourself not caring, wanting to try anyway. You—

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The words fly past his lips before he can stop them, and your cheeks turn crimson. Maybe he’s the cruel sort — trying to hook you onto him just so he can laugh when you beg for a fix. At your desperation, at the naive hope you’d hold onto with your dear life that he could feel the same high as you on even the tiniest morsel. 

The taunts of children on playgrounds still echo in your ears, all these eons later. 

So you do the only thing that feels familiar and right.

You run away, and in your haste miss the longing, confused stare he gives the path you take.

NEXT PART

[thefallenangelsgang]

I'm losing my fucking mind

Or: I just saw Lord of the Rings the Musical at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater and my brain chemistry has irreversibly changed

I'm too genuinely scrambled at the moment from travel to make a solid post (I am multiple states away from Illinois and I hate city driving) but I cannot shake the life-changing experience that was.

SPOILERS AHEAD

(Spoiler free tldr: story is changed sometimes severely to make a sub-3hr runtime or to simplify, but the message doesn't get completely lost. Tolkien fan approved)

First issue I can see everyone having is how much the story changes because it does change a lot. Rohan and Gondor being merged is probably the most glaring. I think it works because the show is more focused on the Hobbits (specifically Frodo and Sam). Personally I can look past it. My one issue is the missing Sam monologues (mount doom is a rather swift sequence, I'd have liked to see Sam give his devotion speech and his speech about the shire while waiting to die) those would have made insane songs but alas. The ending still was a gut punch though so it's more a personal preference thing.

First thing that blew me away was the technical aspect. The lighting and set design was GORGEOUS and EVOCATIVE. There were multiple times lighting alone drew me to tears.

The puppetry is immaculate. The nazgul chase is singularly some of the most beautiful choreo I've seen and I'm a slut for puppetry

The cast play all of the instruments live on stage, sometimes while doing choreography (nothing will prepare you to see Legolas holding a fucking trumpet or Boromir strapped into a goddamn accordion)

The costuming is more accurate to the original editions' illustrations which I found endlessly charming. One difference is, for safety (probably OSHA), all the hobbits (and Gollum) wear Sandals. This is never discussed. I love that.

BOROMIR IS KILLED BY HIS OWN SWORD WHICH I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW PERFECT THAT IS NARRATIVELY

GOLLUM PLAYED BY TONY BOZZUTO IS NEARLY INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM ANDY SERKIS

(I am not joking about this. Somehow he has mastered Andy's physicality and voice work. It truly was a sight to behold.)

Saruman/Elrond's actor (dressed as a hobbit) was hanging out in our section during preshow and was having a grand old time.

Bilbo and Frodo were in the main audience bothering people. Frodo was playing a stick and ring game and got absolutely shown up by some 10 year old he invited to play.

The Entmoot took literally 2 minutes (the way I had to stop from HOWLING at that)

I was SOBBING at the end, like actually.

Somehow this production managed to keenly make me feel the ending of Frodo leaving for the Grey Havens more than the movies did. The Irony of Frodo leaving being both a hopeful prayer that there is a place where people bound with trauma and wounds too deep to heal can live in peace without pain and also a grim acceptance that sometimes people cannot recover was STARK

Frodo and Sam really push the narrative of this show up until the end and it hits HARD. God bless this cast with steady work, they all deserve it.

[fotibrit]

(headcannon/prompt)

There’s a tony stark fan account on spotify that has gained a tony of popularity pretending to be mister stark. playlists like “penthouse workshop”, “night flying”, and “I fucking hate these meetings” each have thousands of followers. Peter Parker, of course, is one of those followers.

But the playlists are weirdly accurate… almost every song on “penthouse workshop” has, in fact, played in lab nights. Peter decides to mention the account to mister stark and…

“Oh yeah, they found my account ages ago but still seem to think some fanboy is running it. it’s funny to watch the debates online, ‘Stark wouldn’t listen to that! blah blah blah’. It will be REALLY funny when they figure it out eventually.”

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs

chapter three

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

tony's mad, bucky's curious, you're questioning where you belong

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

series masterlist

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony spat as he angrily paced around the room. "Some moron paid off Quill and his gang to not fuck up The Avengers!"

"I knew we should've gone Hydra," Rhodey clicked his tongue as he looked up from scrolling on his phone.

Tony shook his head, "When I find the person who did this, I'll fuck them up myself."

Your brother's words made you increasingly nervous. It was you who paid off Quill. At least he didn't snitch that it was you. It still didn't help your nerves to see how upset Tony was.

"It was a bad idea anyways," Clint interrupted. He quickly retracted his words as Tony grabbed his collar, "Only because we should've done it ourselves!"

Bruce sighed, "We can't do anything too rash, otherwise The Asgardians won't help us."

"He's right," Vision confirmed, "They like peace until they're the ones to disrupt it. The minute we cross any lines, they're out of the picure. Bye-bye, Brooklyn."

"Kiddo, what're you thinking?" Tony called to you. You just noticed how you were picking at your skin.

With a shrug, you answered. "I'm just not a fan of all of this."

"Well they're all lying, pompous, pieces of shit." Tony scoffed. "They deserve all of this."

"But why?" You asked. The silence in the room was so much, you could've heard the dust flying around.

Tony pointed to the door, "Get out. Go home."

"But-"

"No! Go the fuck home," Tony yelled as you grabbed your bag and left the small HQ to head back to your apartment, wondering what you's said to make him that angry.

"What's on your mind, Buck?" Steve asked his friend as the two of them sat in the bar. It was always pretty empty during the day. It was the two of them, a couple in the cafe, and Coulson cleaning up.

Bucky shrugged, "Nothin',"

"I know that look, it's not nothing. Come on, I won't judge you." Steve pushed. "Is it about the Stark girl?"

"I just.. don't know how to place her," Bucky admitted. "Stark's such an ass, but she's just-"

"Sweet?" Steve offered.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, real fuckin' sweet. I mean, she could've got her ass kicked for us last night. I just don't get why she's bein' so nice when Tony's over there brainwashing her."

"I highly doubt he's doing that," Steve mused. "She wasn't around during the fallout. There's a good chance she doesn't even know what all of this is about, or you." Bucky felt his heart drop just a little when Steve added that last part. Truly, he'd never meant for Howard and Maria to get killed. He didn't know it was them transporting millions of dollars in art, otherwise he would've kept his mouth shut. "She really does seem to have a good brain in that head of hers."

"What are you thinking?" Bucky asked, watching as Steve's face twisted into that look he got when he got some brilliant idea.

Steve shrugged, "Maybe we invite her for drinks as a thank you."

"You think Stark-"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Steve cut Bucky off abruptly. "She's not his property. Let's give her a choice."

Bucky gave a soft sigh knowing Steve wasn't going to back off his idea. "Ask the others, let's see what they think."

"Already on it, Buck."

How could Tony just kick you out like that?

What could you have said that was so bad that your own brother would kick you out?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sprawled out on your couch, a long, deep sigh pouring from your lips. It was only six and it felt like the longest day in the world. Not to mention your sub-group chat without Tony was blowing up your phone. You had to mute it to shut them up. All they were rambling about was if The Guardians idea was really the right one.

Clint had texted you as well. He asked if you knew who called off Quill. It was clear by his tone he already knew it was you. Clint always knew the sneaky things you did without Tony knowing. He kept things quiet. You liked Clint the most.

A strong knock shook you from your thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, unless maybe Clint came over to question you further since you didn't respond to his texts.

You walked up to the door and opened it, shock filling your body when you saw Steve standing there.

"Steve," You breathed, unsure of what else to say.

"Hey, Stark." Steve gave a soft smile. He looked behind you and into your apartment, reminding you to let him in. You opened the door further and scooted out of his way so he could walk in. "Small place," He commented as he looked around.

"Big enough for one person," You countered, a smile playing at your lips. Steve wasn't here for trouble. "I would ask how you know where I live, but.."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we've all got our connections." He took a seat at the small bar-stool you had at your counter. "Pretty early to be sitting around at home."

You looked at your clothes, glancing down to realize you were in full sweats. "Yeah, Tony and I got in a disagreement today. Kinda spoiled the mood."

"What about?" Steve asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

"It's always something, I don't even know what this one's about." You sighed as you leaned against your wall. "You here to just chat?"

Steve shook his head, "Go get dressed, you're coming out with us tonight."

"Am I?" You asked curiously. "What for?"

"A thank you," Steve explained, "For the other night with Quill and his buddies."

If it was anyone else, you'd think you were getting played. Steve was different, though. He was genuine, he didn't bullshit with his kindness. Maybe your actions had bought you a one-way ticket to Steve's friendship. If that was even what you wanted. Tony would kill you.

"I'll go get dressed." Fuck what Tony thinks.

Steve waited on the stool as you changed in your room. "Where are we going?" You called out to Steve.

"The Grove," Steve replied, his voice loud so you could hear. "It's where we always go." Second time at The Grove, how exciting. "What do you want to drink? I can let Coulson know ahead of time."

You thought for a moment, "I'll do a cosmopolitan!"

You quickly touched up your makeup and walked out of your room, back to Steve who was waiting patiently. "A cosmopolitan, good choice." Steve smiled. "You all ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab a jacket." You said, looking at the muted news on your tv. "Never mind, it's going to be eighty. I won't need that."

"Especially with alcohol in you," Steve joked, opening your door for you. "My bike's outside, you can just ride with me."

You'd actually only ridden on a bike a small amount. Clint had one, but everyone else in the Syndicates had nice cars. It felt thrilling to be on a bike again. It made you feel even better when Steve handed you a helmet to wear. Thrilling but safe!

The Avengers and yourself were definitely a little bit tipsy at this point.

You were sat right in between Wanda and Natasha, who's head was currently on your shoulder to keep her upright as she laughed so hard she was shaking.

"And then he screamed louder than anyone," Natasha paused to wheeze in a breath. "I've ever heard!"

The table erupted in laugher, all besides Sam, who's face was heated while he scoffed. "It isn't that funny."

"No, it really is." Wanda waved him off as she hiccuped in laughter.

The only person not laughing besides Sam was Bucky. He was just oddly smiling to himself, unable to look up from his lap. Clearly the story had made him amused, but he couldn't look up at you.

"I would give all the money in the world to hear that." You admitted as you sipped your drink.

Natasha sat up quickly, "Here, let me try and replicate it for you." She falsettoed her voice and gave the most feminine, soft screech you'd ever heard, causing everyone to laugh once more.

"It did not sound like that," Sam muttered. "I'm too sober for this shit." He waved down Coulson for another one of his drinks.

"Okay, Stark. Give us something, you basically are surrounded by half-men all day. You have to have some funny story." Wanda asked as she set her attention on you.

You felt uneasy with the spotlight now on you. "Uhm," You hesitated. Honestly, you couldn't remember a time that was really funny. You were never invited to those sorts of hangouts. "I don't know."

"What?" Natasha was still smiling, but it was slightly falling as she shook her head. "You have to have something."

"I actually want to circle back to when Sam tried to flirt with that stripper who immediately tried to make him her toddler's daddy." You hoped the reference would side-track the table, which it immediately did as Wanda and Natasha cackled.

The look on Steve's face was telling; he knew exactly what was going on inside your head, and that was scary. You were quick to notice that was the first time Bucky had laid eyes on you, too. You turned your head to Wanda as she told the story, Sam trying his best to shut her up as she spoke.

Steve's face turned to stone, but inside, he was going over a thousand different thoughts. The first step to his new plan was getting Bucky and yourself acquainted.

"Bucky, do you think you could take Stark home for me?"

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part three

FERRARI IS BACK BABY!

series masterlist

peter parker added 8 people

peter parker anyone have oscar piastri's number? this is for research. ALSO, CAN WE BRING BACK THE BLACK FIRE PROOFS??

carlos sainz you're a strange child.

harley keener that's what i've been saying since we met.

bianca stark-potts peter, let it go.

tony stark i don't know if it's still a joke or if you're being serious about it.

peter parker it isn't for me, it's for ned.

bianca stark-potts BULLSHIT!!

peter parker i'm in love with him, mj understands (i think)

arthur leclerc i too am in love with oscar piastri, we kissed one time. charles leclerc it was for a video, and you didn't actually kiss. arthur leclerc but i wanted too.

peter parker but think about it, i get oscar to fall madly in love with me, i take the competition out at the same time.

carlos sainz you think oscar is the only competition we have?

peter parker well no, i can send the avengers after the rest. like what’s max verstappen gonna do against black widow? or lewis hamilton against bucky barnes?

ollie bearman right i forget you people know the avengers

tony stark i am the avengers

arthur leclerc no, you’re iron man. the avengers are the entire team.

peter parker realistically speaking the only one able to take an avenger on would be toto, and i think he could only take on rocket or groot.

arthur leclerc the fucking raccoon?

peter parker he gets defensive when you call him a raccoon.

bianca stark-potts right, who gave him coffee? he only brings this type of shit up when he's had sugar.

charles leclerc it was an accident…i did not know he would get like this. and he made those eyes!

tony stark he does that a lot.

arthur leclerc one could say it was an inchident?

charles leclerc ARTHUR I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU harley keener THIS IS GOLD!! I'VE HIT THE GOLD MINE!! ARTHUR LECLERC YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE NOW!!

harley keener fucking snitch, parker

bianca stark-potts peter had coffee, well if what charles drinks is even coffee. it's pure sugar.

harley keener facts.

natasha romanoff again, aren't you people supposed to be working?

harley keener considering seb and tony are busy scolding peter and charles for the coffee thing, we're good for now. also, carlos left to pick up our lunch it was his turn today.

steve rogers peter drank coffee? i thought that was banned at the paddock??

bianca stark-potts it was, but charles wasn't here the day of the wall-climbing incident. therefore he didn’t know what would happen

bucky barnes did he not know peter was spider-man?

harley keener he did because we told him, carlos, and seb first. however, we never went over the rules

sam wilson i guess it’s time to break out the peter parker handbook again

tony stark aren't you two supposed to be working? focusing on the upcoming race?

bianca stark-potts i'm trying to mass send the peter parker handbook to everyone.

harley keener i'm currently watching old C2 videos.

sam wilson lord help all the fans who are counting on you two idiots to deliver a decent car

bianca stark-potts WE BUILT A FUCKING ROCKET SHIP SAMUEL!

BAHRAIN 2024

scuderiaferrari CHARLES LECLERC P1! CARLOS SAINZ P2! IT'S A FERRARI 1-2 IN BAHRAIN MOTHER FUCKERS!! THAT'S HOW YOU KICK OFF A SEASON!! CONGRATS TO SIR LEWIS HAMILTON FOR HIS P3!!

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lewishamilton

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username NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT?

↳ username NEVER GIVE UP!!

username I CAN FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE AGAIN BITCHES!!

harleykeener LET'S FUCKING GO!!

↳ samwilson i never doubted you guys for a second

↳ biancastark_potts lies. slander. you said we couldn't do it.

username IS THIS WHAT RED BULL FANS FELT AFTER EVERY WIN??

↳ username you guys got luck max had a breaking issue. he ended up in 4th but next week is our week.

↳ username as a longtime tifosi, i've heard that one before

↳ username however, wishing you guys the best of luck next week.

biancastark_potts and harleykeener posted new stories

ferrari 1-2 here in bahrain! ferrari is back baby!

the only way to kick off a season is with a 1-2!

SAUDI ARABIA 2024

taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! this is what i wish the 2024 season would look like for ferrari but who knows if we'll ever get that. on the brightside only two more races left with the sf-23 and then we can finally throw that shitbox in the trash can, where it belongs. (note: the drivers on the top tweet are as follows: lando, esteban, max, and george.)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!