scarecrowmilkfog - Tumblr blog

[scarecrowmilkfog]

❁My Prison Pen Pal part ii❁

Hi guys! Its been a very long time but I finally have it! I hope you guys enjoy this, its much longer then the first chapter. Its not been beta read so sorry if there's some wonky bits and I did this on mobile so the formatting might be a bit weird. I looked up pet names in different languages and then settled on schnecke which is German for snail. It said it was old fashioned and it seemed weird so I thought it suited Helmut perfectly! As always let me know if u need help translating and I hope you enjoy!!!♡

♡♡♡♡

We are going on a trip."

Zemo had finally stopped ruffling through your cupboards. After you invited him in, he headed straight for the kitchen, saying something about tea. You had trailed behind like a dog on a lead and his voice had snapped you back into focus.

"What."

He turned to you with a confused face.

"You didn't hear me?"

For some reason that one simple sentence set you off.

"Why aren't you in jail!"

"Ah of course, I should have explained right away. It is a long story, so I will finish the tea first."

He waited until you nodded to turn back to your counter. You watched him take out two of your mugs (you noted in your head they were the only two which weren't chipped) and prepare a small tray. He seemed rather unimpressed at your lack of a teapot so instead he placed a teabag in each cup before pouring water from the kettle. When had he turned on the kettle? He moved around your kitchen with such ease you'd think he had lived here for years. Something about the whole scene seemed so natural as if this was how your life was always meant to be.

"I still don't understand how you got away from Captain America?"

"John Walker pales in comparison to his predecessor, although it is unsurprising the Americans were unable to produce another Steve Rogers."

You found yourselves in a comfortable silence. You had so many questions you wanted to ask but the words seemed stuck to your throat. 

"Helmut."

"Mm?"

"Why are you here?"

His eyes raised from his phone to your own.

"You said I could always trust you," he said, turning his head towards your window. "I'm tired of running and hiding and living alone. After Ultron, I gave myself purpose through revenge. And its true that I was content in prison for a while. Eventually, however, i felt that hole within me return. I won't say you've given me purpose, I'm not so dramatic, but you have closed that hole. It may be selfish, but I want it to stay closed and now I have ended the flag smashers I believe you are, at least for now, my best chance."

"Oh."

The silence resumed, and it was once again comfortable. You lifted your mug up to your lips. When did your tea go cold? 

"City or somewhere quiet?"

You quickly looked up, furrowing your brow. 

"What?"

"You heard what I said."

"Yeah, and I want you to explain it."

He raised a single, perfect eyebrow. His stare was so intense you had to look away. When you turned back, he too had glanced away. His face had also softened, and it made you worried you had upset him.

"Somewhere quiet!"

"What?"

"You heard what I said, Helmut."

He smiled at you. Oh, you hadn't realised how much you missed his smile. It had only been a few minutes since you'd seen it but it felt like a century, it was as if you were stranded in a desert, dehydrated and desperate, and you'd taken your first gulp of water in 3 days. But it only stayed for a second, flashing across his face like a faint street lamp seeping through a car window. 

“Somewhere quiet it is.”

♡♡♡♡

Waking up on a private jet felt strange. Waking up to Helmut Zemo, international criminal guilty of abduction, regicide and now prison break, gazing at you over the top of his book on  psychology was even stranger. 

You had chosen to sit opposite Helmut. You wanted to sit next to him, but as soon as you thought of it your mind became overrun with thoughts of holding his hand and falling asleep on his shoulder so you decided opposite was better. For some reason it all seemed so scandalous in your head, like you were turning into a regency lady, terrified to even brush your fingers together.

“You will like it here, I am sure of it. You reminded me, in your letters, of tjis villages actually. That is why I thought to bring you here.” 

You looked back at him, having turned towards the window to escape his piercing gaze. You got the feeling that was exactly what he had wanted, clearly he had noticed your discomfort but you weren't sure whether he wanted you to look back at him to end or prolong it. 

“When I was younger we would come here for short holidays every spring, and I had a friend who lived not far from our house who I would write to for the rest of the year. You remind me of him when you write.”

You continued to look at him blankly with only a small reflex smile appearing on your face.

“I’m sorry. My first social interactions in 7 years were with Sam and James and I do not think either of them liked me much.” 

He chuckled gently, in a way that felt purposeful but you couldn’t and didn’t want to understand what that purpose was. 

“It's ok, I understand. This is just all strange to me, i was honestly expecting to wake and this be a dream. But I like this. I like talking to you in person. You’re fine really, I think I've enjoyed talking to you more than anyone else this whole year.”

Helmut smiled at you, and you felt yourself relax massively (you decided to ignore the feeling his smile conjured within you, unsure if it was positive or negative).

It was then you noticed the tray of food sat on the table separating the two of you. It had your favourite breakfast pointed towards you along with a plate of half-eaten food, two cups of tea and a small glass dish with what seemed like wrapped sweets. You leaned forwards towards the tray and took a piece of food.

“Oh!” you finished chewing and licked your finger before picking up the plate of food and continuing. “That reminds me, what’s the falcon like?”

“Fairly pleasant and much more competent than most of his fellow heroes. I also believe it's just Falcon.”

“This place is beautiful.”

You had arrived in a small village filled with luscious trees, blooming flowers and tiny houses hidden underneath blankets of climbing ivy and purple flowers you couldn’t put a name to. The building Helmut had brought you to was similar to the other houses you had passed, a pale blue cottage with little windows and a thatched roof, but it appeared to be much more unkempt, with the plants decorating the side of the building overrun and the neat garden overgrown and full of weeds. 

It seemed like no one had visited the place in a long time and the thought knocked you back into your reality. It was easy to forget that Helmut was an escaped criminal, what with his gentle nature and calming presence, but the abandoned house reminded you of just how long Helmut had been in prison. It made you sad to think of the gorgeous country cottage being left unused for so long, its owners gone and the memories within it fading into nothingness. 

You must have been lost in thought for longer than you thought as you felt the gentle brush of Helmut’s hand before his arm linked with your as he began to walk you towards the white door. As he stopped to brush away the plants that had grown over the door, you took the opportunity to look closely at his face. There were faint lines beneath his eyes but you could tell they were fading. His eyes had regained the brightness you saw in the pictures of him before Ultron and his mouth no longer fell into a permanently neutral line. You weren’t sure if he was happy, but he was healing and that was a good enough start.

“Do I have something on my face schnecke?”

“Huh? Wait, what did you just call me?”

“It doesn't matter,” he chuckled before walking into the house.

“No wait! What does it mean? What did you call me? Helmut!”

♡♡♡♡♡

There was something sickening about your current situation. It was so domestic, waking up to the smell of a perfect breakfast before going on a walk through the woods that surrounded the whole picturesque village and eating a picnic in the fields beyond it, gazing at the swirling clouds, unbothered by the world beyond those rolling hills. But then you would remember that man beside you, the one stopping on your morning walk to pick flowers and eat a piece of the Turkish delight he always seemed to have hidden within his pockets was also an escaped criminal. You loved Helmut, you were certain by now, and over the past week you had considered telling him more times then you could count. Not because you expected him to sweep you off your feet and run away to a beautiful life together..... well you weren’t expecting him to love you back. But because you wanted to be honest with him, after all he had done for you. but you realised after everything he had been through and everything he had done, it didn't feel right to tell him or to put him in such a position. No matter how he seemed, Helmut was incredibly vulnerable, you weren't his first true friend in almost a decade and you didn't wish to risk confusing him whilst he became accustomed to affection. He was a grown man yes, but even grown men could convince themselves to love the first person who was kind to them.

 So you kept it to yourself, and continued to enjoy yourself and the time you had with him.

“Come, schatz, we are going on a trip.”

“Aren't we already on a trip?”

Helmut turned away from the fireplace to give you a blank stare.

“Stop. You know what I mean.”

You answered him with closed-mouth chuckle causing the annoyed expression on his face to shift into unimpressed.

“Well?”

This was the 8th outfit Helmut had tried on, and as good as he looked in everything, you were becoming tired of seeing him in everything.

“Does it have to be purple?”

He turned from his position in front of the floor length mirror to face you, and from the unimpressed frown plastered on his face, your comment had struck a nerve.

“I would be happy to watch you try on clothes, it was you who chose not to bring any clothes in.”

“Because I don't need any. I’m perfectly happy with what I have.”

You leaned back on the plush ottoman until you were half sat half lay down with your feet still planted on the ground and your back flat against the cushion. Who would have thought that Baron Helmut Zemo would be so dramatic. You let out a sigh, but it wasn’t out of frustration. Instead you felt content, it was the breath you let out when falling in bed after a long day of work or stepping inside away from a raging storm. You never wanted to leave this, for it to end, but you knew eventually it would. 

You had never spoken about when you would go home specifically but you had spoken about zemo’s plans. He often offhandedly mentioned prison, speaking of returning or what cell he thought he would be placed in, whether he would move facilities. Although he had not explicitly told you of his plans it was clear he was planning to return eventually. You just weren’t sure when he wanted to leave.

“How long do I have left with you?”

Zemo had been adjusting the collar of his purple shirt and the sound of your voice seemed to remind him you were still there. Had he forgotten or was he simply observing you as you thought? Often you found yourself questioning how much of helmuts outward behaviour was real and how much was a show he put on to confuse you. He seemed to enjoy it, confusing you, and over time it became one of the many things you loved about him so you had never tried to figure it out.

“What did you say schnecke?”

“You heard me.”

He seemed to deflate at that. It was odd to watch him turn so sullen. You had never seen him like that, it didn’t fit him at all. You hated it.

“Unfortunately.”

You both stayed silent for a long time, his face turning serious and his head slightly tilted. It was less of a standoff, and more Helmut watching to see how quickly you would become uncomfortable. It took longer than he thought it would.

"Nevermind."

And just like that his soft smile returned and he began fiddling with the collar of his shirt again. It was only after his smile came back that you realised how young it made him look.

♡♡♡♡

Helmut was fascinating to watch. He sat in a worn leather arm chair, his slouched pose still graceful. You could tell just by watching him he was a baron, from the way he turned the pages of his leather bound book, to how he sat completely still, perfect and unmoving like a statue. And yet despite his stiff position you could tell he was relaxed, completely content for what might have been the first time in almost a decade. Like a sunflower, his face followed the sunlight  as if he was trying to soak in every ray and absorb its warmth to store it within himself. You liked to think that perhaps if he stayed beneath its golden rays he could carry the traces of the sun with him back to that cell. 

The music playing gently from the radio had faded into a mix of noise along with the song of the swallows perched in the apple trees. It wasn’t until the song ended and a slow waltz began playing that Helmut looked up and a far-away look filled his eyes and a soft smile graced his face. 

"What is it?" You had learnt that his smile usually meant nothing good so it wasn't surprising your first response was apprehension.

"Dance with me schnecke."

It was more of a command than a request, lacking any sort of questioning tone and yet you answered anyway.

"Ah maybe another time. I don't know how to waltz," you weren't sure why you refused, perhaps you felt he was too used to getting his way, that you did as he asked too often.

He stood at this, already so sure he could convince you.

"Come now, I haven't danced in years, won't you dance with me once. I may not get to dance with you again." 

A part of you was put on edge by this, unsure whether it was his tone, phrasing or the shift in his eyes that always seemed to proceed statements like this. But a larger or louder part of you was so enamoured even him wishing to dance with you felt wonderful.

And so you let him take your hand and lead you into a simple waltz. And as the two of you swayed you once again forgot about any thoughts of asking when he would leave.

♡♡♡♡

Here they stood. Less Romeo and Juliet and more Macbeth and his future queen, destroyed not by eternal and passionate love in the face of diversity and obstruction, but by their own ambition and prophecy. It seemed that in your desire to obtain Helmut, you had lost him completely. There would be no more letters, no more elegant poems, recipes or book recommendations. This was the end of Helmut Zemo and his relationship with the world outside his cell. And hardly deep inside, more below the surface, lurking between your veins and bones, you felt it was the end of you. Or atleast your happiness. Some part of you wanted to lay down in the mossy field you'd stargazed in together and let nature consume you, for the grass to slowly creep up your body as seeds embedded themselves in your skin and daisies sprouted from the cracks in your eyes. But you knew it would break him and the thought of him lay in that cell, fading at the same rate as you, both of you becoming broken relics and forgotten statues hurt just as much as the thought of living without him.

Like the lady of shalott you had wished desperately to follow Helmut Zemo, to witness him, to worship him, only for you to die so soon after seeing him. Like a flower that has lived all its life in the sun, you couldn't live with helmut zemo and so on that flight "home" (you had just left your true home never to return) you felt yourself begin to decay. 

Maybe this was the end. And maybe that was ok. 

Or maybe it wasn't.

But you knew that what happened next needed to be Helmut’s choice. Maybe he did get his way too often, but after the life he had lived that felt right, at least this once.

So before you walked to your home, he held your hand one last time and smiled at you. It was the last time you'd see that smile.

Your hand slipped from his as you began to walk, and soon you were inside your home. You felt as if you were in a trance as you walked towards the mugs still sitting on your table. There were rings around them now, long dried and probably leaving stains. You picked one up, the one he had drank out of, and as you turned towards the kitchen you found you couldn't. You were frozen in place, unable to think or move. 

And so you stood still, staring at the dregs of tea in the mug for a few minutes. 

You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. No one knew you had returned so you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you stood still staring at the door.

"I know you're in there, I saw you go in remember."

It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you toward the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your finger tips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hasn't been the same in a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.

His smile was still beautiful.

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Hi! Not a question I just wanted to say huge thank you for your imagine "My prison pan pal". It hits me with so many emotions and thoughts! I saw Zemo from the different side I usually do and your writing is beautiful. Reading it was my pleasure. Thank you!

Oh my god thank you so much! I've actually just finished the part 2 and I'm going to post it today so your ask came at the perfect time! This means so much to me and I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it so much, thank you for reading!!!

[scarecrowmilkfog]

do you have any zemo fics you recommend? or any blogs you recommend?

sure darling ❤️

bring the corsets and the cinches by @gunpowder-and-smoke

still some catching up to do by @therenlover

getaway car by @gxldenflower

stranger by @earlgreydream

warmth in the cold by @kindledimagines

meeting the baron part one I part two I part three I part four I part five I part six I part seven by @fanfic-archive

a close shave by @buckyodinson

my prison pen pal by @scarecrowmilkfog

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Oh yh I posted this on the wrong account cause im so fucking smart

Heeeyyyyy

So ik its been like 2 months but um...

Anyways heres a sneak peak of chapter 2 cause I have been writing it, just super slowly

"Helmut."

"Mm?"

"Why are you here."

His eyes raised from his phone to your own.

"You said I could always trust you," he said, turning his head towards your window. "I'm tired of running and hiding and living alone. After Ultron, I gave myself purpose through revenge. And its true that I was content in prison for a while. Eventually, however, i felt that hole within me return. I won't say you've given me purpose, im not so dramatic, but you have closed that hole. It may be selfish, I want it stay closed and now I have ended the flag smashers  I believe you are, atleast for now, my best chance."

"Oh."

 

The silence resumed, and it was once again comfortable. You lifted your mug up to your lips. When did your tea go cold.

 

"City or somewhere quite?"

You quickly looked up, furrowing your brow.

"What?"

"You heard what I said, y/n."

"Yeah, and I want you explain it."

He raised a single, perfect eyebrow. His stare was so intense you had to look away. When you turned back, he too had glanced away. His face had also softened, and it made you worried you had upset him.

"Countryside!"

"What?"

"You heard what I said, Helmut."

He smiled at you. Oh, you hadn't realised how much you missed his smile. It had only been a few minutes since you'd seen it but it felt like a century, it was as if you were stranded in a desert, dehydrated and desperate, and you'd taken your first gulp of water in 3 days. But it only stayed for a second, flashing across his face like a faint street lamp seeping through a car window.

“Somewhere quite it is..”

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Oh god he's only a few years younger then parents-

besties i don’t know how to tell you this but daniel is gen x, not a millennial

[scarecrowmilkfog]

ahoy there Robin! how are you? i hope you're having the loveliest day/evening! 💜

can i get "two characters haven't seen each other for a while, one keeps rambling about something insignificant and the other one kisses them because ''shut up you're rambling just kiss me'' for Zemo x reader please?

thank you so much!! 💜🥺

hi there zelda!! i’m having a pretty decent evening!! how about yourself??

send me kiss prompts!

“You should have seen it, mein Schatz! It was the funniest thing!” 

Zemo’s face was red as he laughed, and his Sokovian accent was as thick as the fog that lingered in the Latvian streets. It was barely what you could consider the morning, and your lover had recently returned from Eastern Asia with two of his buddies in tow. He had come into the bedroom and woken you up with a kiss, and then he started talking. Zemo could talk up a storm if he wanted to, and he was. 

“The bartender asked Sam if he was having his usual, and, of course he had to say yes, but he had no idea what it was!” Zemo said. He was sat on the edge of the bed, and you were laid on your side, watching him. He was so handsome like this, and the urge to kiss him overcame you. After all, it had been a long time since you had properly seen him. 

“So, the bartender turns and takes a cobra out of a glass jar, and he slaps it on the bar in front of us, and I can see that Sam’s resilience is being tested, so I say, ‘Smiling Tiger, your favorite’, and Sam looks at me like he wants to kill me-- which, to be fair, I think he does, but he especially did in that moment. The bartender takes out this knife and it was big, Schatzi, it was almost as long as my arm, and he--”

You moved forward and captured your lover in a kiss to shut him up. You hardly cared about what had happened in Madripoor; at least, you didn’t care too much about the insignificant parts. Zemo gave a quick grunt of surprise at your sudden closeness and contact, but he melted into your kiss immediately. His hands gently touched your waist, nearly like he was trying to remember how to hold you and how to love you, and he kissed back. He was still in his big coat and high-necked wine-hued shirt, but he kissed you and pushed you onto your back in the bed. He still faintly tasted of the liquor he had drank during the night (and undoubtedly while on the plane), but something about the taste of his warm mouth and lips was so indescribably Zemo. The taste of his skin was enough for you to let out a small groan of pleasure. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you mumbled into his mouth. “I missed you terribly, Zemo.” 

His hands drifted from your waist up to the sides of your body, and then to your shoulders. He pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed the corner of your mouth, and he whispered, “I’m home now, mein Schatz. I’m home.”

[scarecrowmilkfog]

If you’re still doing the kissing prompts I liked this one!

“hand kisses!!!! let me invite you for a dance!!!!! let's end it with a kiss on the cheek!!!!”

I feel like this would be a Zemo thing since he’s a baron and all and probably knows how to dance properly??

oh i loved writing this so much so much. thanks for requesting! 

“The Baron is looking at you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Why would Heinrich Zemo be looking at me?” you asked your sister. 

“No, no, not Heinrich,” your sister said quickly. “His son, the young baron. Helmut.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and tossed a glance over your shoulder, and your eyes landed on Helmut Zemo. He was older than you, almost done with his stint in the military, and his training showed in the way he carried his body and held his head high. His dress uniform, a navy jacket with a gold sash under his arm, adorned with medals, glittered under the lights of the ballroom, and it made ignoring the young baron quite difficult. That, and the fact that his piercing brown gaze was on you. The moment your eyes met, he gave you a smile from across the room, and you quickly turned away. 

“Christ, why’s he looking at me?” you asked. 

“Maybe he wants to ask you to dance,” your sister shrugged. “How do I know?” 

“Oh, fuck, if I have to dance with him, I’m leaving,” you mumbled. 

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, and your stomach dropped. You turned back and found the young baron standing there with a smile, his dimples showing in his rosy cheeks. “Pardon the intrusion,” he began. “But I couldn’t help but notice you across the ballroom. You are very gorgeous.” 

You nodded carefully. “Thank you,” you replied. “You look quite handsome yourself, Baron Zemo.” 

His eyes widened as he scoffed, and he said, “No, no, please, call me Helmut. My title… I don’t care for it too much.” 

“Helmut,” you whispered, testing the name. It was an older name, not necessarily suited for the twenty-something man before you, but the smile that grew across his face when you said it spoke volumes to you. “It’s a good name.” 

“Thank you,” Helmut said. When you told him your name, his smile grew wider, and he carefully took your hand in his. He lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers, and he said, “Enchante, mademoiselle.”

“Oh, wow, he speaks French,” you laughed. 

“And German,” Helmut said. He didn’t let go of your hand, but you didn’t mind it at all. “And Spanish. And Portuguese, and a little Mandarin. And Sokovian and English, obviously.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you said. “I struggle with one language. So, you’re kinda the whole package, huh? You’ve got brains, beauty, brawn; what more could a girl want?”

You liked the abashed flush that came over Helmut’s face, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Can I ask you for a dance?” he asked. “That was my intention for approaching you.” 

You looked quickly at your sister for help, but she offered nothing other than a starstruck smile, and you looked back at Helmut. “Yes,” you said. “I’d love to dance with you, Helmut.” 

The group of musicians were halfway through a violin waltz when Helmut led you to the middle of the ballroom, and he put a hand on your waist and grasped your hand in the other. He easily led you in the waltz, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the unbelievable situation. You were waltzing with Sokovian royalty. It was such a dream. You two were talking the whole time; it started off with a discussion about literature, then drifted off into more personal topics. By the end of the dance, you had to admit that you were smitten with Helmut. 

The musicians ended the song with a flourish, and Helmut leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for dancing with me,” he said softly, and he kissed your other cheek. “I do hope to see you again after tonight.” 

“Oh, I’ll make an effort,” you said with a smile, and you reciprocated the kisses.

Helmut quickly bit his bottom lip and glanced around him, and his grip on your hand became tight. “Not to be too forward, but… I believe the garden outside is a private place. If you would like to accompany me, I mean.”

As Helmut swept you from the ballroom, you decided that, once and for all, that you were living in a fairy tale.

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Daniel Brühl looking like the man of my dreams ✨💘

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Ok guys just finishing up some stuff for mp3 chapter 2, should zemo and reader go to a city, the seaside or the countryside? And then which countries/cities/villages/towns should then visit?

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Hi ! 8 + Helmut Zemo, please ? 🎇

Exhaustion (Zemo x Reader)

Prompt: “Come Here, I’ll carry you.”

Word Count: 395

“Schatzi” means Sweetheart

The relief you felt as you and Zemo walked through the door of your home was immense. After being out all day shopping, you were exhausted, and although he didn’t say anything, you knew he was too.

You kicked off your shoes, “We’re never going shopping again.”

Zemo smiled and hung his coat on the rack, “You’re the one who insisted we go to every store in the mall, schatzi.”

“Well you’re the one who told me I could buy whatever I wanted! You can’t tell me something like that, I’m too picky Hel, I wanna buy everything!”

He looked down at the many bags hanging from his arms, most likely cutting off circulation. “From the looks of it, you did buy everything.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a few of the bags, helping him carry them to the living room. You both sat everything on the couch and you looked over at the stairs.

“Oh what I would give for a hot bath right now,” you fell onto an empty spot on the couch, your back aching.

“Why don’t you go take one then?” Zemo was looking through the stuff that was bought, pulling out the new bottle of his favorite cologne.

“Because,” you frowned, “I don’t wanna go upstairs, my feet hurt.”

Zemo sighed. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”

Before you even had a chance to reject, he was picking you up, one arm supporting your back, the other looped under the bend of your knees. You gasped in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

He chuckled and started making his way up the stairs.

“If you drop me-“

“I won’t, relax dear.”

True to his word, he didn’t drop you. He even went the extra mile, taking you to the master bathroom and sat you down on the counter next to the sink.

You watched as he went around, gathering towels, a fluffy loofah, and a silk robe, setting them all on the table next to the bath. Then, he started running the bath water, making sure it was the perfect temperature.

He looked to you once he deemed everything ready, and you couldn’t help but to walk over and kiss him. “You treat me so well, Helmut.”

“I simply treat you like the queen you are, my dear.” He placed a kiss to your forehead, “Enjoy your bath.”

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Ok update on that fic I was supposed to post:

I wrote most of it, decided I didnt like it, so now im rewriting it~(>_<)~

I've got another 2 weeks of exams but it shouldn't take me too long to finish it now! I hope to have it out before the weekend x

[scarecrowmilkfog]

This is so beautiful, like my eyes have been blessed

a sam study✨

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Daniel Brühl as Andrea Marowski in Ladies in Lavender (2004)

[scarecrowmilkfog]

I just finished watching ladies in lavender

On an unrelated note im crying

[scarecrowmilkfog]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter Three (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo x Reader Fanfiction)

(This chapter will be split into two parts because it’s so massive, so keep your eye out for chapter 3.5! If you haven’t read chapter one yet, you can find it HERE) 

Synopsis: In the aftermath of the disastrous dinner with Sam and Bucky, Helmut and his wife finally talk plainly about death, divorce, and infidelity in the hopes of saving what little love they have left between them.

Tags: Angst, Arguing, Alcoholism/Alcohol Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Struggling Marriage, Depression, Flashbacks, Making Up, Helmut Zemo is Slightly Better at Feelings

Rating: 16+ (E in a future chapter) 

Warnings: Swearing, Alcoholism/Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Infidelity, The Reader Craves Death, The Reader Is Described As Having Recently Had A Seizure

Word Count: 9700~

This work has been crossposted to my AO3

——

Keep reading

[scarecrowmilkfog]

Forget about me, Bucky. But remember those lost Sokovian souls.

[scarecrowmilkfog]

THIS IS SO GOOD WHAT-

How do you make putting a necklace on sound so romantic😭

a sneak (unedited) peak of chapter 2 for my fusion/projection/reflection zemo fic readers! Currently on track to being uploaded on Sunday.

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“Ah. You can’t get the clasp?” Zemo asks, pointing to the choker still clutched in your hand. You’ve noticed how expressive he is with his hands, how often he uses gestures as he speaks. When you nod, he reaches out a gloved hand expectantly, palm up.

You place the choker into his open palm.

“May I?” He asks, and you realize he intends to put it on you himself.

“Um, sure. Thanks.” You respond, turning quickly and hoping that he doesn’t see the way your cheeks flush red. As you lift up your hair, Zemo brings the choker around your neck, the leather of his gloves brushing against your skin as he loops it around gently. He’s close, probably closer to you than you’ve ever allowed him before. When you swallow nervously, you hear him chuckle quietly behind you.

“One moment,” He murmurs from behind you, holding the choker closed at the back of your neck with one hand as he slips off his gloves, one hand after the other. Then his knuckles are skimming the back of your neck as he clips the choker into place.

“Turn,” he says after he clasps it, and letting down your hair, you do so without a second’s thought.