#catws au

[adelacreations]

Billy almost flinched at the hand on his shoulder, he wanted to scream at Hopper to get his fucking hand off him. He just shrugged it off instead, rolling his shoulders back. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his mouth, startling everyone. “Cap-” “What do you people want? A thank you? You all should have left me in that damn fucking ice.” He snapped, blue eyes turning cold as he stepped forward. Guns immediately were lifted up as if to aim and shoot. Yes, shoot me… kill me. You should have never brought me back. The ice was my prison, my grave. Don’t you all know better than to disturb the dead? Billy almost flinched at the hand on his shoulder, he wanted to scream at Hopper to get his fucking hand off him. He just shrugged it off instead, rolling his shoulders back. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his mouth, startling everyone. “Cap-” “What do you people want? A thank you? You all should have left me in that damn fucking ice.” He snapped, blue eyes turning cold as he stepped forward. Guns immediately were lifted up as if to aim and shoot. Yes, shoot me… kill me. You should have never brought me back. The ice was my prison, my grave. Don’t you all know better than to disturb the dead?

For this @harringrove-relay-race Captain America Billy Hargrove and Winter Solder Steve Harrington anyone? I'm so excited to post this, I have been having this au rattling in my head for a WHILE now! Comes with a lovely fic as well!

Passing the baton to @passivenovember! ❤️ Please look forward to what they got! 🥰

[buckttommy]

i was just on twitter and saw someone mention your fic! https://twitter.com/eddiediazist/status/1547216737581481985

THROWING UP FR

[delicatebarness]

delicatebarness | masterlist

This post includes the posting schedule and links to the individual masterlists.

Spotify

Mondays @ 5:30PM (BST)

A new chapter of 'Bring Him Home'

Tuesdays @ 5:30PM (BST)

A new chapter of ‘Cry Baby’

Wednesdays @ 10:00AM (BST)

A new chapter of 'The Avengers Bunch'

Wednesdays @ 5:30PM (BST)

A new chapter of 'I Can't Read Your Mind'

Thursdays @ 5:30PM (BST)

A new chapter of 'I Think He Knows'

Fridays @ 5:30PM (BST)

A new chapter of 'Safe & Sound'

Saturdays & Sundays

No new chapters. (Most likely writing or working on something new.)

Bring Him Home Series | Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Chapter Two | Chapter Three - Remastered | Chapter Four

Winter’s Child Series | Mom!Natasha Romanoff x Dad!Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader

Pilot

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Fall Season! 🍁🍂🌻🎃👻🧛🏻‍♀️ … Three faced goddess continuation 👉🏻👈🏻? God dammit shana i fucking loved this prompt, 2012 Tony is the only version that has rights and I’ve had such a problem with him ever since aou, but your writing took me back to when I actually loved his character

a continuations of 1

Rhodey heads to the smith, unsurprised to see a line of people outside of it, waiting for the man inside to succumb to his need to eat or sleep and pounce on him for whatever issue they believe needs his immediate attention. Peter is among them, the closest to an apprentice that exists, but he can’t enter the forge without everyone else pushing in too, so he waits with all the rest of them.

When they see him coming, they groan, knowing their chances have been destroyed, except for Peter, who just looks relieved.

He remembers a time when Edward belonged to him alone. Edward exists because of him, after all, and needs must, but sometimes he can’t help but resent that this is another piece that he’s had to share.

“When I walk back out, it better be to an empty hallway,” he says blandly.

He receives a chorus of, “Yes, General,” and a jaunty wave from Peter before he’s opening the door and then shutting it firmly behind him.

In the beginning, the alchemy lab and the forge had occupied the same space, the outpost not yet big enough to have the rooms to spare. It had been quickly remedied once Rhodey had found about it, because the last thing any of them needed was losing him to an explosion of his own making, but he can’t say he’s surprised to see a cauldron bubbling ominously in the center of the room. “You have a lab for a reason.”

Surprised brown eyes snap up to meet his, and then there’s that familiar grin that always causes tension to unspool from his spine, even when it really shouldn’t. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. How goes the battle on the Eastern border?”

As if he doesn’t know. “They’re retreating. Our soldiers are holding the line and it looks like they’ve given up attacking us on that front. For now.”

“Sounds like something you should tell the king,” he says, frowning down into the cauldron as if it’s personally disappointed him.

Rhodey closes the distance between them, grabbing his chin and tilting his head to the side, frowning at the bruising mostly hidden by his hairline. “I am. But it’s a bit of wasted effort, considering the king is half the reason for their retreat.”

“Just half?” he pouts. “I really think that I deserve more credit-”

Rhodey kisses him to shut him up, a strategy that he’s been employing since they were teenagers, the whole reason necessitating Edward in the first place.

The second prince could not be scene dallying with someone so below him in station, the fact they were known to be friendly was a fluke of a broken wagon and much derision to all who heard of it. But Edward was no one, an educated fifth son of some nameless noble with a talent for metalwork, and no one cared if he kissed a commoner.

Then war had come knocking and a king could not do what needed to be done and so Edward had shifted from Rhodey’s to the country’s overnight.

Tony hums happily against his mouth and Rhodey pulls back rather than deepening it. Half the trick with was not letting him get distracted. “You need to get some sleep. Have you slept at all since getting back from the battle?”

The deep bruises under his eyes already tells him the answer, but it’s still worth asking.

“Need to figure this out,” he says, tilting his head to the cauldron. “It’s a coating for the blades to get them sharp enough to cut through armor. Not our armor, obviously, but other people’s.”

“A day,” he says, because Tony is needed everywhere at all times in all ways, and someone has to keep him from running himself into an early grave, and at the outpost, that’s him. “Just a day at home. I know you miss it. It’s been a while.”

Tony’s eyes go distant and fond. “Yes,” he agrees, and that one word has all the exhaustion that he won’t let show.

“You disappear all the time, no one will question it,” he murmurs, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll go if you will,” he returns. “You haven’t been home in even longer than I have.”

“Less of a need,” he argues, and he should argue against this too, when it’s unnecessary and dangerous, but he’s tired too. “Fine. We’ll need to sneak out to the woods if you don’t want to get caught.”

Tony clearly hadn’t expected him to agree that easily. “You hate flying.”

He hates how much pain it puts Tony in, but since he’s flying either way to get home, it doesn’t matter. “I’ll deal.”

Tony kisses him again, writes down some notes, douses the cauldron, and then they’re using the secret entrances that had actually been the whole point of building a lab near the forge. When they’re far enough away, Tony’s chest glows, the light and sparks spreading out from his chest to effulge his body and liquid gold and mercury sliding down his limbs. Rhodey has to close his eyes against the light, but Tony’s arms around him are always welcome, even when they burn almost too hot to stand.

The Iron Mage flying to the castle is a common enough sight that it raises no alarm and the brightness of Tony in flight means no one can tell he has a passenger, seen as nothing more than their own personal shooting star.

Tony melts the iron shutters back with a wave of his hand, likely reforming it behind them with a more intricate pattern than they’d been wrought with, because he always had such opinions about anything he hadn’t crafted himself.

He’s barely set Rhodey back onto his feet and folded the star back inside himself when there’s the running of little feet coming straight for them. Rhodey’s not surprised.

She’s always watching the stars, looking for her father.

Tony bends to pick up Morgan as she rounds the corner, barreling towards him with single minded intensity. “Daddy!”

“Hey, buttercup,” he says, hoisting her into her arms and settling her on his hip. “Miss me?”

“Yes,” she answers, wrapping her arms around Tony’s neck in a hug. She turns her head to grin at him, Tony’s eyes shining in her face. “Hi Rhodey. I missed you too.”

“Hi, Princess,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. She frees one arm from Tony to grab onto the front of his jacket, keeping him in place. He settled a hand on her back and that seems to satisfy her.

The door pushes open and Pepper is standing there, still with hair up and braided around a circlet and in a deep blue silk gown. “Someone here is supposed to be asleep.”  

Tony and Morgan’s innocent faces are identical and equally unconvincing.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Rhodey asks.

“It’s all three of you, really,” she answers, striding forward. She squeezes his shoulder, then uses it as balance to push herself to her tip toes.

Tony bends to meet her in a kiss, chaste enough that Rhodey doesn’t feel the need to pull away but long enough that he assumes Tony’s sleep might end up experiencing a delay.

“I don’t want to go bed,” Morgan says. “Daddy’s home.”

“I’ll be here in the morning,” Tony says and Pepper’s face relaxes. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed myself, okay? And then you can tell me about all the new things you learned over breakfast.”

“I’m not tired,” she insists, but only waves at him when Tony pulls away to take her to her room.

Rhodey waves back, almost goes with them, but having the two of them there will just make her twice as riled up.

“I could have another, you know.”

He looks down at Pepper, blinking. “I thought – after the war?”

After the cave, after swallowing a star rather than being swallowed by it, Tony couldn’t justify staying on the sidelines, couldn’t justify only contributing to the war as Edward. Besides, being captured in the first place had shown him that he wasn’t safe as Edward anyway, but even Tony couldn’t justify taking to the battlefield without an heir, without a child of Stark blood to inherit, without a queen who could rule both while he fought and invented and in the event of his death.

Prince Gregory had been ten years older than Tony, he’d been the boy everyone knew would be king. Tony was just the spare, and not even one had on purpose. It’s why he’d had the freedom to meet Rhodey in the first place, to take on the name Edward and poke and prod his way through universities and labs and harassing blacksmiths into teaching him a craft a prince was never supposed to know. They’d assumed his father would arrange his marriage to some foreign noble for political reasons and Tony would install her onto an estate and do what was necessary to add a couple kids to the royal line and that would be that, he would then be free to spend his time on pursuits he enjoyed and with the man he loved. He was just the second prince, after all, it’s not like what he did really mattered, and he and Prince Gregory had never gotten along anyway.

Lots of people hadn’t gotten along with Prince Gregory, lots of people had thought his temper and his cruelty and several other attributes made him unsuitable as king. Maybe, on their own, they wouldn’t have mattered much – Rhodey thought Prince Gregory was not so much worse than King Howard – but he was constantly compared to the brother ten years his junior and found lacking.

They never found out who was behind the attack that killed Tony’s parents and brother. With their enemies sensing weakness and declaring war soon after, it was easy to pin the blame on them. But there were persistent rumors that it’d been someone, or several someones, that wanted Tony on the throne over his brother.

Rhodey doesn’t know if it’s true. All he knows is that relief rippled through the country far heavier than mourning.

The relationship he and Tony had, the future they’d mapped out, had been possible for a snubbed second prince and utterly impossible for a king. Tony had put off marriage for longer than he should have, but he couldn’t forever, and his urge to get out and fight now that he could pressed down on him.

Pepper had been his friend first. Their friend first. A noble, but only barely, and utterly unsuitable for the title of queen according to her pedigree and also the only one Tony would agree to marry so the rest hadn’t mattered.

If she were anyone else, he thinks he would have hated her. But Pepper had come to him after Tony had asked her and said, “I love him,” like throwing down a gauntlet.

He’d known. Who couldn’t help but love Tony, once they got to know him? And Pepper was beautiful and competent and trustworthy, could have Tony’s children and lead his country and keep all his secrets. And Tony might be able to resist falling in love with Pepper when she was only his friend and confidant, but as his wife, the mother of his children, his queen? He would fall.

“I want what’s best for him,” she’d continued in what he thought was going to be the worst conversation of his life, “and that’s me and you. He would never give you up. You know that. You should have a little more faith in him.”

“He needs you,” he’d said quietly. What Tony needed is something he couldn’t be, he wasn’t a noble or a woman.

Pepper had lifted her chin in defiance, every inch the queen she was going to become. “He needs us.”

That had been years ago. They made it work, awkwardly and painfully at first, but much smoother these days, warmer and easier. When the war ends, he thinks things might even be easy.

Tony and Pepper had needed to have a child and quickly, to secure the succession. She’d been pregnant within four months of their marriage and Princess Morgan’s birth had been greeted with relief by the country. Still, more heirs are better, especially with Starks being thin on the ground, but Tony resisted the idea of having another child in the midst of war, another child that he might die on and abandon.

Which is what makes Pepper’s statement so confusing.

“I didn’t mean right this second,” she says, lips turning up at the corners. “I know I’m not exactly your type, but I certainly wouldn’t mind the process myself. Morgan’s yours, of course, but if you wanted – I wouldn’t mind. Tony wouldn’t either.”

He understands what she’s offering and he’s shaking his head before she’s even finished talking. “We can’t – they’d know.”

“Maybe the next one will take after my genes,” she says. “Goddess knows Morgan’s all her father.”

She is, so clearly Stark, from her eyes to her intelligence to her love of trouble. But there’s no way a child of his could pass as a child Tony’s, which is what any child of the queen’s would have to be. Even if they came out pale enough to pass as a Stark, which isn’t any sort of risk they could take, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of anyone finding out that a child in line for the throne was not of the Goddess blessed bloodline.

“Tony’s children are my children,” he says, and means it. Pepper and Tony had always been clear about that and it had been a relief, to not have to be so close and yet so far, to be able to love Morgan as his daughter even if it was nothing he could ever say out loud. “Go and help him with her. I know you have a lot to catch up on.”

He’ll go to his room, with the bed and comforts that he’s missed quiet a lot, and get the sleep that he’s also missed.

She sighs, squeezing his arm. “Don’t wander. I get up early and Tony never sleeps through it.”

Tony will get up with her, and kiss her as she heads to the hall, then go down to his room and crawl into bed with him, still sleep warm, until he has to get up and put in an appearance as King Anthony.

Rhodey smiles and nudges her towards the hall. “Go on, your husband is waiting.”

“Our husband,” she corrects imperiously and doesn’t move until he laughs and nods and repeats her words back to her.

[leo-bandito]

el winter woowoo wednesday

[wintereyed]

- That was a risky move, but quite remarkable.

- You're quite remarkable yourself.

[whipitgod]

Under Different Circumstances.

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

oneshot (?) - wc: 2.2k

summary: Bucky is a live figure model and Steve feels kind of like he might pass out. AU

warnings: not canon compliant, light swearing, allusions to sex, and crack-ish as usual

a/n: you guys voted for artist steve/figure model bucky in the poll so here it is!! i hope this doesn't disappoint cause i struggled a bit with how to end this one. lmk if you want me to write a pt.2 to this with their date! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

The only phrase his mind can seem to supply him is a mortified, oh sweet merciful Jesus. The most attractive man he’s ever seen is standing naked in front of him posed like the Hercules of Farnese statue, and Steve feels like he’s going to pass out. Steve had barely looked up from where he was setting up his art materials when the man had walked in, only looking at him once the instructor had begun introducing him.

The instructor had clapped her hands together, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, “This is James,” she’d motioned to the man standing next to her, “He’s gonna be our live model today.”

The man had smiled at this, waving at all the people sitting behind easels, “Please call me Bucky, you’re all about to see me naked; I think we can move past the formalities.”

Steve thinks he’d heard a few people laugh at the comment but honestly, he's not really sure, way too focused on the man, Bucky, starting to disrobe at the instructors prompting. The blood had immediately rushed from Steve's head down to a lower part of his body making him shift awkwardly, not taking his eyes off where the man was being instructed on how to pose. 

That was over 5 minutes ago, and Steve has yet to do more than draw a rough outline of the pose; Steve knows the man is aware of his struggle too, the asshole had winked at him when he’d caught the blonde staring, mouth slightly agape. Steve had almost flinched at the wink, his gaze immediately shifting to the paper in front of him as his face heated. He can feel how red his face and ears are and he knows Bucky can see it; Steve’s never been the most devout religious person but, in that moment, he sends up a silent plea to whatever higher power there might be to put him out of his misery.

With more strength and determination than he honestly thought he was capable of, Steve focuses on the drawing in front of him, beginning to sketch the hard planes of the man's muscles. Good god what is this guy's workout routine? Steve’s not naive, he knows he’s an attractive guy. He’s put a lot of effort into his body and appearance in general and he knows his build is impressive, but sweet Jesus so is Bucky’s.

Is it weird if I ask him how he’s getting that much muscle definition before I try to sleep with him? The thought causes a quiet chuckle to leave him before he can stop it, the sound cutting through the silence of the room causing a few heads to turn towards him much to Steve's horror. He can feel his face getting hot and resolutely stares at the sketch in front of him; He can feel Bucky staring at him and when Steve chances a glance up from his paper he immediately meets the man’s curious gaze and quickly looks back down.

He’s got to admit, the dark-haired man is a little intimidating, not even just appearance wise. Bucky had been staring at him just about as much as he’d stared at Bucky, with his brows furrowed like he’s trying to figure Steve out. Steve would almost describe the look Bucky was giving him as being resemblant of the kind of look you give someone when they owe you money.

Steve isn’t ashamed to admit that the look is doing nothing to deter his growing attraction to the man in front of him, he’d even go as far to admit that it's making him more attractive. Steve really doesn’t want to think about what being attracted to a man that looks kind of like he wants to punch you means for him from a psychological standpoint; Whatever it means Steve is sure of one thing, and it's that the man has a serious resting bitch face, and it's really doing it for him.

Steve miraculously manages to finish the sketch, only getting sidetracked a few more times as he works. He's broken out of his focus by the sound of the instructor announcing the end of the class and he chooses not to look up when he hears the instructor tell Bucky he can go get dressed, thanking the man for coming. He packs his materials with a practiced efficiency, only stopping when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching his station

Looking up from his bag he’s met with the sight of Bucky smiling down at him, he sucks in a sharp breath as he meets the man's eyes. How is he hotter up close? Steve stares blankly at the man for a moment before standing from where he was crouched putting his stuff away, he makes note of the fact that they are almost the same height; Bucky was probably about an inch or so shorter than him but just as broad. 

The man holds out his hand for Steve to shake and he grabs it hoping that his hands aren’t sweating enough for Bucky to notice, “Hi, you must be Steve?” at Steve’s ensuing confusion he continues on, “I’m a friend of Sam’s”

Steve’s brows furrow deeper at this, “You know Sam?”

“Yeah, he’s actually the one who told me I should do this. He’s always trying to get me to step out of my comfort zone.”

Yeah, out of his comfort zone and into Steve’s apparently. Steve feels his eye twitch slightly; he’s going to kill Sam, “Oh yeah? Given that you recognized me, I assume Sam told you about me? All good things I hope.” 

Bucky gives him another smile at this that Steve can't help but return, the man's smile doing weird things to the blonde's stomach, “All good things. He honestly didn’t say much about you, just that he had a friend named Steve that took the class.”

Steve lets a breath he wasn't aware he was holding at Bucky’s response, but his relief is only short lived because apparently the man wasn't done, “He also told me that you would be the blonde one that was and i quote, ‘built like a brick shithouse’,” Bucky stops for a moment, eyes trailing up and down Steve's body before landing back on his face, a teasing smile forming on his face, “and I gotta say, he wasn’t lying.”

The man is confident, almost bordering on cocky, but Steve reasons that the confidence is justified. Most of the time Steve would say that an attitude like the one Bucky has meant that a man was overcompensating but Steve had just stared at Bucky in all his nude glory for close to an hour and he can confirm that there is no overcompensating happening here. Yeah, he looked, he’s not ashamed to admit it; it was kind of hard not to when he had to draw it. 

Steve's mouth feels dry as he chokes out a thank you and Steve’s floundering only serves to embolden Bucky, the man’s teasing grin stretching even further and a soft sound akin to a laugh leaving him. Steve manages to regain his footing a bit, he squares his shoulders and decides that two can play this game. He wants to flirt? I’ll show him flirting, I'm gonna flirt so hard it knocks him on his ass, “I wish Sam had told me about you, I would’ve loved to see you naked for the first time under different circumstances.” 

The words shock Steve a little bit as they leave him, dear god reel it in Steve. He’ll be the first to admit that he might’ve taken it a bit far, he just met the guy and he’s probably actively scaring him off. Much to Steve's delight and surprise Bucky lets out a sharp bark of laughter at the words, shaking his head slightly, a wide smile taking over his features once more.

The dark-haired man digs in his pocket, pulling out his phone and unlocking it before handing it to Steve, “I would love to explore what these ‘different circumstances’ entail,” Steve begins typing his number into the blank contact Bucky had pulled up, “But right now I have to run, I’m meeting my sister for lunch.”

Steve hands the man his phone back and he sees Bucky set the contact's name to ‘brick shithouse’ and he has to bite back the laugh that threatens to escape him at this, “Well how about you text me later and we can set something up?”

“Oh definitely,” Bucky’s eyes trail up and down Steve's body for what feels like the hundredth time before continuing, “I’d be crazy not to.”

Steve lets out a laugh that’s honestly more of a giggle that makes Bucky’s smile even wider; Steve’s never been this humiliated and turned on at the same time, it's a little bit startling.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve.” The man starts walking away before Steve can even begin to form a response, and he stands motionless watching Bucky’s retreating form.

As soon as the man is out of the room Steve is fumbling for his phone, pulling it out and immediately clicking on his best friend’s contact. The phone only rings a few times before Sam picks up, “Hey what's up ma-”

“I want you dead.” Steve cuts off the other man's greeting in a sharp tone as he picks up his bag of art supplies.

“Good afternoon to you too, I assume you met Bucky.” Steve can hear the smirk in Sam’s voice, and it makes him falter for a second.

He gathers himself after a second of silence, “Oh my god! You planned this!”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Cut the shit Sam.”

A quiet chuckle echoes through the phone, “and if I did? You kept complaining about being single and I got sick of hearing it all the time.”

“It's not right to spring this kind of thing on me! I need at least forty-eight hours to emotionally prepare for a situation like that.”

“I’m sure it was fine, you are a frustratingly attractive dude, it's kind of hard for you to scare someone off.”

Steve breathes a laugh at this, “Aw Sam, do you have something you want to confess to me?”

“Oh yeah man, I'm sorry you had to find out about my undying love for you this way.” The words come through the phone in a sarcastic deadpan that has Steve letting out a laugh that's more of a cackle than anything, “So how did it go?”

“It went good, I stared at his dick for an hour and then all but asked him to bend over.”

Steve hears Sam choke at this, and the sound of a cup being set down aggressively followed by coughing as Sam recovers from the statement. Sam takes a second to regain his composure while Steve laughs at him, “Jesus Christ man.”

I’m kidding,” a brief pause, “kind of. I did stare at his dick, and I did say that I wanted to see him naked under different circumstances.”

Sam is quiet for a moment before responding with a pained sounding, “I’m happy for you.”

Steve laughs harder at this, catching his breath slightly he pushes on, “I think we’re gonna meet up later,” he stops for a second, what can only be described as a shit-eating grin forms on his face, “Hey, do you know if Bucky’s a top or a bottom? I don’t really care either way, I just want to know what I should prepare for. He kind of gave of top vibes but I could picture him bending o-”

“I’m hanging up now.” 

Steve hears the beeping that comes when you end a call and pulls his phone away from his face, he laughs so hard his sides start to hurt, a few tears escape, and he wipes at them. As grateful as Steve is that Sam orchestrated him meeting Bucky, He’s still a little bit bitter over the lack of warning and he intends on making Sam suffer a bit. He sends a text to Sam that reads ‘Jockstrap or no jockstrap?” Sam only sends a thumbs down emoji in response and Steve fights the urge to break down into another laughing fit. 

His phone beeps with a text from an unknown number, the text reads, ‘Hey it’s the guy who’s junk you stared at for an hour, we kind of went about this backwards. Dinner tonight? I can pick you up at 7.” the phrasing of the first part making Steve’s shoulders shake with silent laughter; How romantic.

Steve stares at the text for a minute before responding, ‘7 is perfect, can’t wait!’ The message was initially typed with at least six exclamation points before Steve had thought better of it, he sent another text with his address before closing his phone and letting out a squeal that if asked about he would deny. His head snaps up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Steve is mortified to find the instructor standing a few feet away from him with curious eyes.

Steve huffs a nervous breath, “Oh hey, didn’t see you there.”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, I'm great.”

[hotcinnamonsunset]

knitting is a love language yes but knitting is also it’s own language. i mean. come on. p1, k4, p1, k2tog, yo, ssk, p1, k4, 2/1 RC, k1, 2/1 LC, k4, p1.

[hainethehero]

No thoughts, just a crappy edit of Steve Rogers as Captain America w/ glasses

[adelacreations]

😍 So I'm in love

Prints available here ✨️

[buckttommy]

Hey! Just wanted to say congrats on writing such a long fic and im proud of u! Its not my thing as i refuse to read anything that even alludes to stucky (i came rome the og comics and its a notp) but i wanted to say thanks for including a sam wilson character and giving him to hen. Most fics and the fandom tend to "forget" he exists so it means a lot that you give him that respect.

Thank you! I literally cannot relate to stucky being a NOTP that's literally my OG ship lol. But yeah! I love me some Sam Wilson, man. OG Team Cap (Nat, Steve, Bucky, Sam) literally my MOST MOST MOST beloved.

[delicatebarness]

‘Grumpy, single dad who lives in a one bedroom apartment with his cat’ Bucky who sleeps on the floor due to the war so gives you the bedroom to help you feel safe while it’s his custody days.

&

‘Cheerful, dinner party hosting mom, who married the science teacher’ Natasha who lives her childhood dream of growing up safe in a suburban community through you on her custody days.

&

You, just trying to get through the school day without punching a jock who smiled at you for a second too long. 

-

Thoughts?

[nocturne-pisces]

Pisces Sun

Pisces; a water sign. Selfless and compassionate. Deep as the ocean, endlessly empathetic, and incredibly intuitive.

But if all of that was true, how could he not feel how your heart shattered when you saw the woman on his arm?

Leo Moon

Armageddon isn’t sudden. It doesn’t come like a flash fire to consume your home while you’re pouring your morning cup of coffee, no warning but the faint smell of charred ending. Armageddon is slow and agonizing with the way that it warns you from miles away so you have time to shed tears for all that you will lose.

Aquarius Rising

Aquarius rising is idealistic and practical, though always more concerned with the well-being of the group over the needs of the individual.

Scorpio Venus

“I just found you. You can’t leave me so soon.”

This series is finished as of 06/12/2022.

[dawnquafam]

I really thought today's What If ep was gonna give Pietro back to me, nobody speak to me for the next 3-5 business days

[savs-creates]

Throwback to the Winter Soldier AU that rotted my brain

[thesokovianaccords]

like thread through a needle - a preview

#steggyweek22 - day six (very belated) - multiverse/what if?

it’s the return of the peggy!cap fic...sort of...a preview of it, anyway

will I ever finish this? somewhere in the multiverse probably

I found this snippet as I was organising my files and had to add it back in immediately - there are so many little bits and pieces floating around of this fic that will be turned into a cohesive narrative. someday.

“I think it’s my turn to get some answers, don’t you?”

“You’ve been asleep, Agent Carter. For almost seventy years.”

“I worked that out for myself, thank you very much. I do still know how to read a newspaper. How about you tell me who you are, how I got here, and what—”

“Ma’am, are you gonna be okay?”

“Sorry, yes. It’s just, the last time I was here, this was a dance hall. I, uh—I had a date.”

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

“They used to hold concerts here, you know.”

Peggy’s phone slips through her fingers at the unexpected voice over her shoulder, clattering down six or seven concrete steps before coming to a stop. She swears, shifting to retrieve it, but before she can move, a tall, blond blur skids past her. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

Steve grins up at her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you heard me coming.” 

“That’s a terrible excuse, darling. Especially if you broke my phone.” 

He bounds up the steps and slides in next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Nope. Still good as new.”

“Good.” Peggy relaxes into his side, her head falling to his collarbone. “Tony would never let me hear the end of it if I broke another one.”

Steve snorts and slips the phone into her pocket. “What’s your tally?”

“Seven. I threw my last one at a senator--who completely deserved it, mind you—but Tony threatened to cut me off phone access. And I’ve finally gotten used to this bloody thing. I still don’t understand how on Earth you get anything done with yours.” 

“It’s very user-intuitive,” Steve retorts without much energy, the old argument familiar between them. “Are you okay? I think this is the first time I’ve snuck up on you. Ever. Like, even before the serum.”

“Avenger business, yet again,” Peggy says, wincing at the reminder. “We made very little progress with the Security Council, and there are rumors of a shake-up at State. Everyone is on edge. No one was in a conciliatory mood, so Tony and I basically sat there to be yelled at while everyone else tried and failed to work their contacts for support and information. Plus, I really hate being in New York. Tony and Pepper always try to make us feel welcome at the Tower when we’re there, and it was good to see everyone, but it’s—well, it’s not my city. I’m not sure how else to explain it.”

“Well, you spent the whole time in Manhattan. Of course you were miserable.” 

Peggy turns in his arms to catch Steve’s adorably disgruntled expression. “You haven’t lived in Brooklyn for over fifty years.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“Brooklyn was never invaded by aliens, so I suppose you have a point in your favor there.” 

“But it’s still New York.” 

“But it’s still New York.” Peggy threads her fingers through his free hand with a slight smile. “I’ve lived a lot of places, Steve. And some of them have been better than others, but I still feel like I haven’t found home yet.”

“I know you’ll figure it out, Peggy,” Steve says, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “We’ll figure it out.”

Peggy bites her lip at the conviction in his tone, the absolute confidence he has in her. It has been a long time since someone has had unshakeable, unconditional faith in her—not because she carries the shield or wears the star-spangled uniform, but because she is Peggy Carter. It is exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure, and she has missed it more than she knows how to express to him.

She squeezes his hand and, as the murky waters of the Potomac meander along in front of them, she blurts out, “I like the Capitol.” She winces as soon as the words left her mouth. Not at all what she has meant to say.

“What?” Peggy looks over to see him staring at her, bewildered at her non-sequitur. 

She clears her throat and glares at the river, as if it can give her the words she is looking for if she can only bend it to her will. “I—I like the Capitol, is what I said. I like all of it, actually. The Capitol, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial. These steps we’re sitting on. You know, I actually attended one of those Sunset Symphonies here when we came to Washington for meetings. I sat two steps down, right on the edge over there, as the orchestra played. This was the original Watergate, as a matter of fact - the complex is named after these steps.”

“The better Watergate, too,” he sighs. “Sorry, Peg, but I don’t get it.”

Peggy purses her lips in thought. “When I was catching up on the world—on everything I missed—they told me about the Watergate affair, of course. And my first thought at seeing the name was not President Nixon, or the scandal, or the cover up, or everything that came after. Instead, I saw the National Symphony Orchestra playing Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. It was comforting, in a way. I was learning about a particularly dark period in American history and yet there it was—something familiar, something I knew. And a good memory, even.” She clings tighter to his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers twice. “I don’t have many of those touchstones these days, my darling. I can’t help but hold them close when I find them.”

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@captaincarter: I have been reliably informed that many of you would be interested in more information about my experiences with the Howling Commandos. 

@captaincarter: So I’m excited to announce that I’m partnering with the @Smithsonian and @HBO to live-tweet their upcoming docuseries “Howling Commandos”

@captaincarter: You can tune in beginning this Friday at 9:00pm and follow along using the hashtag #HowlingCommandosHBO - join me, won’t you?