#coffee stirs and super glue

[frogshunnedshadows]

I've made a couple more pallets recently, including an exciting blue one.

[yeyinde]

Lev? Uncle Simon? I’m excited. I don’t even know what it’s about but I like the sound of it already

out of all the untitled documents to choose from who knew the uncle Simon one would stand out so much lmao this is super choppy but here's my little idea for the new version:

At first, she's a name on a piece of paper. 

An abstract concept. Black lines stamped into stark white. An idea—

(a phone call in the middle of the night that he wasn't expecting. 

"Mr Riley? Is this—right. Well, the reason I'm calling is because the adoption agency received a request from one of the adoptees about tracking down their biological family, and you were the only match.")

—a ghost. 

Out of everyone, he thinks he mourned her the most. This tiny, insignificant thing swathed in pale pink and cradled in the arms of her mother, his almost sister-in-law. Tommy leaning over her shoulder, eyes glazed in an artificial gloss (c'mon, Tommy) as they smile, vacantly, at the camera.

At the time, elbow deep in a shallow grave as he stared at the photo his mother sent him, all he could think was: she never stood a fuckin' chance. 

And she didn't. Her first night home from NICU was when his past came back for revenge. Bloodthirsty, vengeful. They sunk their claws into his family, tearing them into pieces. A nightmarish massacre they called him to discover.

(pinch me, Tommy, pinch me—)

Better off this way, he remembers thinking. Cruel. Callous. Staring down at a tiny grave—her name etched in stone; only days old before the monsters in his closet came searching for their due—and knowing that this was all his fault. And then: sorry, little bird. 

Sorry. Sorry—

But that little bird crawled out of the dirt. Made it out alive somehow. 

(better this way, the higher up said, resting a neat, unblemished hand on the folder marked Simon Riley. next to it, a mask lay on the table. generic. he hums around his grief, thinks of Tommy in the grave—milkwhite bones. "a clean break—"

he thought it was their attempt at humour. maybe an odd way to comfort him. but with the roaring in his ears, he couldn't hear much beyond the ache in his chest, and the ice-cold fury coiling in his belly.

"she's in a better place."

fuckin' hell—

he thought they meant some idea of heaven, not Salford.)

And now—

That name on a piece of paper has a face.

A pretty one, too.

And though he tries to find pieces of Tommy in the symmetry of her profile—and feels antsy, restless, when he does—she takes after her mother. Same complexion. Eyes. The slope of her nose. All of it the woman he met once—stumbling home to find them both passed out on the couch, heads knocked together as a dense cloud of smoke plumed around them. Her eyes, heavy lidded and red, gazing up at him uncomprehendingly.

"who're you?" slurred out in a smokey rasp. Tommy didn't even stir at the sound of her voice.

It's her but healthy. Youthful. Clear eyes. Hands that don't shake. Teeth that gleam white under the fluorescent light of the cafe she works at, not willow-brown. Stained yellow with nicotine. She's softer, too. The harsh, fragile angles of her mother tucked away under a thick pelt. Solid. Steady.

Happy.

He spends a lot of time just staring at her in the back of the dimly cafe, hood pulled over the black ballcap hung low on his brow. Medical mask in place of his typical knit balaclava. Barely blending in to the passel of the teenagers that seem to congregate, em masse, in the small coffeeshop.

Sometimes, she looks back at him. Catches his eye. Offers a smile that's only a little wobbly around the edges, brow pushed together as she tries to make sense of his presence here. With the chocolate trim and the cream walls, the heady scent of ground coffee in the air, chatter of schoolkids and professionals that skirt around him with a considerable dearth to reach the trashbin next to his table. It's clear he doesn't fit.

Doesn't belong.

It glues to the roof of his mouth. The passing, mean thought that neither does she.

Or—

She wouldn't.

If Tommy survived, she'd be leaning against the wall with him, listening to the distant echo of flushing toilets while the world seemed to carve out a steep chasm between them. Them and us. That's how it's always been with him and Tommy.

But she—

She fits.

Offers smiles as easily as breathing. Something that would have netted them a black eye from their raging old man, bellowing out that he'd give them something to smile at.

She doesn't look like anyone has ever raised a hand against her. And he supposes, thinking back on the information he managed to get the private detective hired by her new parents to squeal out, that she doesn't. Not her. No.

Grew up in Salford with her adoptive parents—much older than most looking to adopt, already in their late forties when she was just a year old. Lived a life on the right side of the tracks: spelling bees, private tutors. Vacations to Disneyland. They weren't rich. Not exorbitantly so, but they managed a comfortable lifestyle. Food on the table every night. Chores. Movie nights on Saturday where she got bring a friend for a sleepover. Pizza and popcorn and candy and her mother asking, want some more snacks, honey? Soft and gentle. That's what they were. Are. Doting. Kind.

Punishments were drenched in disappointment. Voices never raised. Hands never furling into fists.

She was a good kid raised by good people.

And he should be happy for her.

He is happy for her.

They raised her good and proper. Put food in belly. Never let her know hunger. Or pain. Neglect.

But he finds Tommy in her smile. The little dip of her chin, tucking her happiness into her collar as if she doesn't want it to be seen. It's all—him. Them.

Simon just can't seem to think around the idea of her belonging to someone else—

(she's his family, after all. his baby bird. his brother's daughter. his niece. his. his—

and maybe it's time baby bird—Baby Riley—came home.)

[amybizarre]

🎄✨𝓐𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓝𝓻. 𝓕𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷✨🎄

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽: Christmas Crafts

𝓐𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮: RF, Reboot and Opposite

𝓣𝔂𝓹𝓮: Short Story (No warnings)

𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂'𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓸𝓻!

RF had fallen asleep in the living room.  Perhaps pulling an all-nighter on paperwork there wasn't such a great idea. As he was about to learn.

He was slumped over the low coffee table, crammed between said table and the couch in what was probably the most uncomfortable sleeping position known to mankind.

Or puppetkind in this case...

The next morning Reboot and Opposite wer the first ones to come down the stairs, eager for some early morning snacks. They didn't talk to each other. Opposite was still processing the trauma of waking up and Reboot, knowing how to read his eternal scowl by now, knew better than to challenge his temper.

As they passed the open living room door on their way to the kitchen Reboot caught sight of RF, who was still out cold. More specifically: His outstretched arm with the prosthetic hand on it, which his head was resting on.

Reboot stopped and stared for a while, while Opposite continued on. The tired cogs in his brain began to turn slowly, a devious prank idea forming in his teenager mind. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his features, lavender eyes twinkling with mirth.

His head whipped to the side, in Opposite's direction. Quickly and quietly he caught up to his grumpy friend.

Opposite was currently staring into the open fridge, debating and critiquing the available snack options in his head. There was a small jar with a single eye floating in some liquid ontop of a small box with snacks in it, that had Mob's name written on it.

What the hell, Mob-

The moment Opposite glanced at the snackbox, the eye in the jar flicked around, focusing on him. Ew. Now he had effectively lost his appetite. Opposite shut the fridge door, revealing a grinning Reboot.

He sized him up with narrowed eyes. "What?", he grumbled, patience already running thin.

Reboot's grin widened. "You wanna prank RF?"

<^> <^> <^>

A small search for craft supplies later, the devious duo quietly huddled down in front of the sleeping RF. Obnoxiously blinking Christmas lights, other corny decorative items and lots of super glue was gathered on the table.

While Reboot had trouble to keep his snickering at bay, Opposite was an image of stoic indifference. Probably the most positive expression you could get from him in this situation. Secretly he was totally into this prank, but he would never express that.

Reboot picked up the super glue and Opposite started handing him different little angel, reindeer, elf and Santa figurines. Together they bedazzled RF's prosthetic with them, gluing them onto every free spot possible.

Once that was done, they tied small bells to each of his fingers and stuffed tinsel into the tiny gaps between the figurines. Lastly they wound the blinking Christmas lights around his prosthetic hand as well.

What a wonderfully festive eyesore they had created. :)

Reboot, still grinning like an idiot, admired their handiwork. Hm... What else could they do for maximum annoyance?

RF hadn't even stirred once during their endeavours. They could probably take this a little further...

And they did.

In the end, the 6'11 feet tall grinch they pranked, was wearing a fir-garland as a scarf and fake antlers.

When Reboot adjusted the antlers on RF's head though, the sleeping giant began to stir awake.

Reboot and Opposite panicked quietly and snuck out of the room as fast as they could without making too much noise.

RF's crimson eyes blinked slowly. Feeling as grumpy as ever, he wondered why his back hurt so terribly. Ugh, he was getting old... His feet were also fast asleep. Why though?

Shifting uncomfortably, he remembered where he was. Ah fuck, he shouldn't have slept like this. Now his back would complain the entire rest of the day.

He sat up properly, still groggy. Just then he realized there was something on his head and something itchy around his neck.

Huh?!

He wanted to reach up with his left hand to yank the thing from his head. That's when he realized he had been pranked.

"What the-?!"

RF stared in anger and disbelief at his sabotaged hand. He tried shaking the obnoxious Christmas stuff off, but it only caused the tinsel to rustle and bells to jingle joyfully.

He shook harder.

"What the fuck is this?!?" RF yelled in frustration. He heard muffled laughter from upstairs.

Oh, that was it!! He'd catch the perpatrators and beat the living daylights out of them with his oh so wonderfully decorated prosthetic-

He shot up and marched towards the stairs.

They better start running.

[hazza-bear-care]

Happy Birthday

It's your birthday, but everyone seems to be too busy to care.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x FemAvenger!Reader (Established relationship), Age gap if you squint, pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart), allusions to smut but still 18+

A/N: My birthday was on the 18 and I didn't really feel like celebrating, so this was inspired by how i felt. Let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~

As you woke the morning of your birthday, a heavy, hollow feeling settled in your chest. After you turned 21, celebrating your birthdays began to feel trivial, like a chore. You always seemed to get a little depressed as your birthday drew nearer, never quite being able to pin the reason down. For the third year in a row, you had to plaster a sickeningly sweet smile to your face and deal with the near constant chorus of "Happy Birthday's" spilling from your friends as you passed them in the halls of the compound. You didn't doubt that Tony would bug you about throwing a lavish gala in your honor, something you'd decline relentlessly in exchange for a quiet night in with your friends.

However, when you'd made your way to the kitchen to join the others for breakfast, no one looked up from their plates. Brushing aside the feeling burying deeper into your chest, you sat in your spot across from Bucky, the handsome super-soldier hunched over a steaming bowl of oatmeal. The conversation flowing between Natasha and Thor continued, other members of the team chiming in with their own opinions, but no one seemed to notice that you had sat at the table. You silently poured yourself a cup of coffee, Bucky sending you a quick smile as he caught your movement, almost like he was happy to see that you had graced him with your presence. You returned his smile, gently placing the coffee pot back on the table. Just as you were reaching for the cream, a hand came out from behind you, snatching it up before you could grab it. Looking up, you saw Bruce Banner pouring an obscene amount of cream into his already full mug, nearly draining the carton before he put it back on the table.

You grabbed the remainder, barely having enough to cool your coffee before you stirred in your sugar, mentally swearing at Banner for being so inconsiderate. Finally turning your attention to the food laid out on the table, you notice that there's not a lot left for you to eat. That wasn't unusual for the Avenger's compound, the general consensus being "you snooze, you lose" when it comes to meals, yet you couldn't help but feel as if this was deliberate. As if he read your mind, Bucky cleared his throat, sliding his bowl of oatmeal across the table to you. The aroma of brown sugar, cinnamon, and maple syrup caused your mouth to water, mumbling a quick thank you to Bucky as you took a bite.

"Okay, well, nothing really going on today! Feel free to go about your day as you see fit, leave dinner ideas with FRIDAY." Tony said, sending your heart straight to your feet. You heard sighs of relief as the team mumbled about how awesome it was to not have any missions for once, which you were also relieved about, but as everyone shuffled out of the dining room, some waving their goodbyes as they noticed you, a wave of loneliness washed over you. The oatmeal in your mouth tasted like cinnamon glue, but you forced it down before also leaving the table, wandering aimlessly around the compound.

Your feet seemed to move on their own, leading you towards the lab to bug Tony. He was like the fun uncle you never had, so bothering him while he was trying to work was sure to lift your spirits.

The doors slid open and you immediately heard Metallica blasting through the speakers, Tony subtly nodding his head to the beat as he fluttered between multiple screens. You shook your head, walking up to his work bench and sitting down, your fingers itching to play with the hologram in Tony's hands in order to get his attention.

"What's up, Squirt?" Tony called over the music, the song now changed to Guns N Roses. You gnawed on your lip anxiously, popping your fingers as you focused on whatever he was fiddling with.

"Just wanted to see if there was anything planned for today. Anything you might have forgotten to mention to the group or to me." You responded, praying you sounded casual about it. Apparently, you didn't as Tony flicked away his hologram and turned down his music, planting both of his hands on his hips as he stared you down.

"The holidays are over, I didn't forget Valentine's Day, which reminds me I have to buy something for Pepper. Hey, FRIDAY, remind me to buy Ms. Potts a Valentine's gift." Tony rambled, the AI taking the note. "I'm fairly certain there's nothing to celebrate today. Why do you ask?"

You sucked in a breath and blinked away the tears building up, as you shook your head. "No reason. Sometimes you're forgetful. Sorry for bothering you."

"No problem. See you later, kiddo." Tony answered, turning his music back up as you made your way back upstairs to the living room. You stumbled through blurry vision and into an argument going on between Natasha and Sam. They were sitting with Clint, Thor, Peter, Wanda and Vision, everyone gathered to watch a movie, but they couldn't decide which one to start with.

"I think Back to the Future is an AWESOME choice, Nat!" Sam yelled from his horizontal position on one of the couches.

"Half the people in this room won't understand the references, Sam! Let's watch Indiana Jones instead!" Natasha yelled back, sending a pillow straight into Sam's face. You thankfully slipped past them without being pulled in as a tiebreaker, flitting up to your room to change into some workout gear. Maybe punching something would shrivel the dark feeling still threatening to swallow you whole.

You quickly changed into a pair of leggings and a sport's bra, tying your hair up with a black scrunchie and shoving a pair of headphones into your ears, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge as you once again avoided the movie argument that had now escalated to a pillow fight.

Stepping into the cool air of the basement gym, you were alone to do cardio while Steve and Bucky sparred on mats across the way. You blasted your favorite playlist as you settled into a decent pace on the treadmill, a sheen of sweat building across your chest and face. After your run, you did some lunges before cooling down with some water, someone tapping your shoulder during your break.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! I was just wondering if you'd like to spar for a bit?" Steve had been down in the basement for at least an hour, yet it looked as if he'd just begun, a light layer of sweat dusting his cheekbones.

"Oh, sure." You responded, removing your headphones and walking over to where Bucky was still panting. You chuckled slightly at Bucky as you placed your belongings on a bench nearby before stepping in to face Steve on the mat.

"Bring it on, honey." Steve taunted, a small smirk on his face. You steeled yourself before throwing a punch which Steve caught, giving you enough time to sweep his legs out from under him, a thud echoing around the room as the super soldier fell to the floor. While he was down, he threw out his legs to trip you sending you sprawling on your back, the wind being sucked out of your lungs instantly. Steve kept his legs tangled with yours as he rolled you over and pinned your arms to your back all while you struggled to catch your breath.

"Okay, I give!" You cried from under Steve, the pressure on your shoulders beginning to get uncomfortable. Steve let go of you in a flash, standing up before offering you a hand and steadying you on your feet. You felt you didn't do as well as you should have, and as you caught your breath you pondered ways to try taking Steve down with the next time you sparred. The look on your face said enough because Bucky was suddenly snapping in your face to get your attention.

"Are you alright? You've been weird since breakfast." Bucky asked, commenting on when he'd seen you last. Anger poured through your veins like thick, hot lava as you glared at Bucky.

"I'M FINE!" You scream at the top of your lungs, running out of the gym and taking the elevator to your floor of the compound. You sprinted to your room, demanding that FRIDAY lock your door as you buried your face into your pillow, screaming once again as anger, frustration, and heartbreak burned you from inside out. You withdrew your face from your pillow and instead chose to punch it, picking it up and pounding it against your headboard, trying anything that would help transfer the emotions you were feeling away from your body.

After one more particularly intense scream, you wiped your eyes and decided to take a shower in hopes to try and refresh your day. You turned the water up as high as it could go and scrubbed every inch of your skin until you were bright red, leaving the scalding sanctuary in two plush towels. You then proceeded with your skin care routine, combing through your wet hair before putting it up in a bun, donning your most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tank top. You shoved your feet into some fuzzy yet sturdy slippers and grabbed a book and a hoodie before making your way back to the elevator.

Instead of going downstairs for dinner, something someone else picked out on your birthday, you went upstairs to the roof. Over the years the roof had become a quiet place to read and get away from the business of your life. Saving the world doesn't have a schedule, yet somehow there's always time for you to sneak up to the roof. There was a little sitting area next to a rooftop garden filled with roses, and the sunset so beautifully over the city that it held your attention more than the book you brought.

As the sky grew darker and it got harder to read, you chose to watch the sun sink lower in the distance, the constellations coming out to dance above your head. The wind picked up a bit, but as you went to move you heard someone walk up behind you.

"It's me, don't be afraid." Bucky announced gruffly as he came to sit beside you,

"What do you want?" You asked quietly, turning your attention back to the glittering skyline of the city.

"You missed dinner. I figured you'd be up here though." He answered, He'd guessed correctly and found you in the one moment you had to be alone. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"What's wrong? You've been weird today, not like yourself, so something's wrong. Tell me." Bucky explained, demanding an answer. He towered over you, instantly making you feel small as his stare pinned you to your seat. His baby blue eyes were full of desperation and care, causing you to tear up again.

"It's my birthday." You whimpered, burying your face in your hands as you tried to hold back your tears. Bucky's heart dropped as he watched you crumble into a bawling mess behind your hands. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug which you immediately returned, burying your face into his neck as you continued to cry.

"Oh honey. Sweetheart, I am so sorry! Why didn't you say something sooner?" Bucky apologized, his voice soft and comforting as you cried.

"I trusted my team to know. I know all of your birthdays." The explanation was a good start, but Bucky knew something else was bothering you.

"But everyone forgot, didn't they?" Bucky asked softly, rubbing your back as you wailed harder. Hearing it out loud was worse than you could have ever imagined, and you never wanted to hear it again. You simply nodded, clutching Bucky's shirt even tighter in your fists as he held you impossibly closer to him, helping you calm down with every breath he took. Once your crying had slowed, Bucky prompted you to look at him, letting him wipe away the stray tears that had fallen.

"I'm so sorry we forgot your birthday. I'm sorry I forgot. You mean so much to me, the least I can do is remember your damn birthday." You giggled a bit in Bucky's grasp.

"I even asked Tony if he was positive there was nothing going on today. He said he was certain there was nothing to celebrate." You commented bitterly, crossing your arms as you pulled yourself from Bucky's lap.

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of him, I promise. But for now, your birthday isn't over yet. What would you like to do?" Bucky asked, distracting you from the anger the was building inside you again. He grabbed your hand and swiped his thumb over your knuckles as you pondered his question.

"I don't know, Buck. I kind of stopped caring about my birthday when I was a teenager. It wasn't until I joined the team that I even got something I could call a birthday party. Hell, Natasha took me to Las Vegas when I turned 21, but now three years later they just stopped trying." Your voice cracked and your chin wobbled, but you were done crying. Bucky rubbed your knuckles again as you chewed on your bottom lip.

"Do you want to go back to Vegas? I'm sure Tony could arrange something in a heartbeat." Bucky offered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"No. I... I don't feel like doing anything, actually." You answered through gritted teeth.

"Oh, a lazy day can be great! You can watch movies or tv shows, listen to music. Does any of that sound good?" Bucky's eyes were full of hope as he offered up suggestions on how to spend the rest of your birthday, but he wasn't understanding what you meant.

"No, like I don't feel like doing anything. I just want the day to be over with and continue on with my life." You explained, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to chew at a rouge cuticle. Bucky seemed to understand as he froze in his seat, and he swore he could feel his heart break.

"Sweetheart, whether you believe it or not, today is special. Today is not just another day to mark off on the calendar. You graced the Earth on this day, and the world was forever changed because of it. If you weren't born today, I never would have fallen in love with you." Your heart melted and your eyes watered once again as Bucky pulled your hand away from your mouth. "I am so, so very sorry I forgot your birthday, honey. I promise I will make it up to you, alright?"

"Okay. I believe you, Bucky. Thank you." You said running your thumb over his as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

"Are you sure there's nothing you want to do?" Bucky asked, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yeah. Tell everyone they forgot my birthday and lock myself in my room for the rest of the night to watch them scramble." You replied, causing Bucky to throw his head back and laugh loudly.

"Anything else?" Bucky asked, wiping away a tear of his own.

"A movie and junk food night. Pizza, tacos, burgers and a list of movies you haven't seen yet." Bucky's smile grew wider as he agreed to the plan, escorting you back inside the compound and to your room.

As he went to retrieve his phone and wallet from his room, Bucky ran into Natasha. The red head looked bored with her day, but refreshed from the workout she was doing prior.

"Hey, where are you going?" Natasha called as Bucky passed.

"My girl and I are having a movie night and we're ordering food. No one is allowed to talk to her right now, she's a little upset." Bucky explained, tapping on his phone as he walked back to your room to get your food orders correct.

"Why is she upset?" Natasha asked, following him to your door.

"You forgot her birthday. It was today." Bucky said casually, turning away from Natasha who was busy trying to pick up her jaw from the floor as he entered your room once more. He confirmed the food and ordered whatever you wanted, throwing in as many birthday treats as he could find with every order. As he gathered whatever was in the kitchen for appetizers, Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the flurry of the Avengers as they scrambled to throw together a decent celebration.

"Barnes, why didn't you tell anyone it was her birthday?!" Sam yelled, his hands suddenly full of balloons, cornering Bucky against the kitchen counter.

"You guys were supposed to know." Bucky shrugged, burying his own guilt as he grabbed two cartons of ice cream and spoons before he shoved past Sam. The food he had ordered arrived, so he gathered that as well before he made his way back upstairs.

"Your birthday feast has arrived, my sweet!" He announced, piling the food onto your bed before turning and locking your door.

"You're forgetting something." You answered. Bucky frowned and scanned the bags laid out in front of him. He had your favorite barbacoa tacos and bacon cheeseburger balanced perfectly on top of the New York style pepperoni pizza he'd gotten to share. Along with the entree's, cheesecake and cookies and cinnamon bread doused the room in a sugary smell, your mouth watering in anticipation.

"I did? But I got the tacos, the pizza, and the burgers. I made sure there were extra French fries, and got you extra of everything. Are you sure I forgot something?" Bucky asked, disappointment lacing his voice as he continued to stare at the mountain of food on your bed.

"The movie list." You reminded him, smiling brightly when his face changed from confusion to relief, then to realization.

"Oh! I have it on my phone. Sam taught me how to do that. Apparently there's an app for that." Bucky answered, crawling into bed beside you and handing you his phone. You swiped it open, slightly shocked that he didn't have a password, and found his movie app. You scrolled for a bit, the list of titles expansive and riddled with multiple genres.

"Where do you want to start? A franchise, a romantic comedy, a classic?" You offered, ignoring the perpetual buzzing of your phone as it laid between you and your boyfriend. Bucky picked it up and turned it off, tossing in onto your bedside table as he pondered your question.

"It's your birthday, honey. What do you want to watch?" Bucky answered, unpacking the buffet of junk food and laying it out on the bed.

"Have you already seen Harry Potter?" You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hair.

"Not all of it. I think I've seen the first three?"

"If you don't remember, then we're watching Harry Potter. Fair warning though, I have most of them memorized. They're some of my favorite movies." You grabbed your remote and found where all eight of the wizarding movies were streaming, settling in for a long night of eating and binge-watching Harry Potter.

When you were stuffed with food and halfway through the fourth movie, someone knocked on your door.

"FRIDAY, who's at my door?" You ask, not tearing your eyes away from the tv.

"It's Mister Stark. Should I let him in?"

"No. Tell him and the others that I will not be talking to them." You answer quickly, smiling slightly as you heard Tony swear before he stomped away.

"I'm sorry again, honey." Bucky said, guilt filling his voice as he rubbed your arm, finally breaking your attention away from the movie still playing in the background. His brows were furrowed together as he stared down at you, confusion on his face as your calm gaze steadied on his.

"I forgive you. Thank you for this. It's exactly what I wanted." You commented, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as a soft smile spread over your face.

"You're welcome. Happy Birthday, sweetheart." Bucky cooed, leaning in to capture your lips with his, pouring every ounce of love into you with each languid movement. You lost yourself in his touch, melting at how beautifully your lips fit with Bucky's, like two pieces of the same puzzle finally locking into place. The two of you pulled away breathless and panting, staring deeply into each other's eyes for a few moments more before Bucky cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the tv.

"Are you okay?" You asked, suddenly shy and a little angry. Why would he pull away like that? In the year that you had been dating he'd never pulled away from an intimate moment, so what changed?

"Yeah, I'm good. You're just... a really good kisser. I needed a second to compose myself." Bucky answered, his attention fully on the movie that was almost over yet sending quick glances your way every so often.

"Thank you. You're a good kisser too, Bucky. My birthday wish is to kiss you for the rest of the night." You admitted, turning his head to meet his eyeline. Bucky's eyes darkened and in a flash the food was quickly discarded, his lips meeting yours again. This kiss was heated as he pushed you to lay down against the pillows. You sighed under his touch and settled in for a long night as his tongue swiped through your mouth.

Yes, this is what you wanted, but you still couldn't wait to see what everyone else would pull off to make up for forgetting your birthday. They didn't matter though. All that mattered is that Bucky kept touching you, kissing you, and celebrating the day you chose to grace the planet; the best day of his life. He loved celebrating this day with you, and he couldn't wait for more in the future.

[the-haunted-office]

Two small parcels have been dropped off in the office. They've been placed just outside the door that Eisuke and his fellow yakuza friends would often use to come visit their lovely haunted office friends. One of the presents is firm, rectangular shape. It is addressed to Thursday. The other present, is a slightly larger box that is addressed to Thisday.

There is also a note that is addressed to both of them. The writing look as though it were done in a rush.

Hello my dear friends!!!

It's been hell here in Kamurocho. I'm really sorry I haven't stopped by at all recently. I hope you enjoy these gifts I've got you!

I'm missing you both so dearly and hope to catch up with both of you soon!! <3

Lots of love, Eisuke <3 <3

Thursday's gift is a ocean coloured ceramic coffee/tea cup. It doesn't have a handle, but it's thick enough that the hot liquid held by the cup wouldn't burn the user. There are two small tins in the box, one is for matcha powder, the other is for chai tea. Finally, there are a few Japanese sweets for her including dorayaki, alfort biscuits and a small variety of manju.

Thisday's gift is a soft plush toy of a Don Quijote penguin. It's super squishy and incredibly cuddly. There's also a ton of Japanese sweets in the box, including a few packets of pocky, numerous different kit-kat flavours and konpeito.

[ Eisuke / @reubyocs ]

The arrival of parcels outside the door through which some of their favorite people normally visit of course issues quite a stir throughout the Office! But none more in Thursday and Thisday, who come bustling along as soon as they hear the news of the arrival of those packages. Even Doomsday tags along - much to anyone's surprise - and together, the three of them handle these two packages in the most peculiar of ways.

Thursday opens her box, carefully removes the gifts that are inside of it, sets them aside, and then promptly sticks her head inside of the box - as much as will fit.

Thisday opens his box, carefully removes the gifts that are inside of it, sides them aside, and then promptly sticks his head inside of the box - as much as will fit.

For a moment they both look rather silly, sitting there in the hallway, surrounded by gifts, and with two different sized boxes on their respective heads while Doomsday observes them with a rather hopeful expression on her face.

And then, in a strangely coordinated motion, Thursday and Thisday both remove the boxes from their heads, set them aside, and promptly burst into tears, because what they were hoping to find in those boxes most of all was not in them.

Their friend Eisuke.

Doomsday doesn't cry, though. She picks through their gifts and inspects them, demanding they look at them while patting them both on the head with the Don Quijote penguin plushie. It does eventually get them both to calm down and Thursday brews some of the chai tea for the three of them to enjoy, while together the three of the tear into all the treats that were given to them and reminisce about their friend and wonder what all he is up to now.

They are thankful for the gifts and miss Eisuke terribly so.

And so they decide to send a gift back to him.

Thursday dresses up Mae, who is a little over a year old now, and gets a picture taken with Mae, herself, and September, the three of them, all standing in the Office flower garden that Timmy has worked hard on growing. Then she picks some of those flowers and has Mae help her (sort of) press them into a journal that Thursday has kept about all the weird shit that has happened at the Office over the last year. She thinks Eisuke will like this very much.

Thisday likes the picture idea, and so he decides to get dressed up too, and puts on whatever of his suits or outfits that Eisuke has liked the most, and gets a photograph taken of him in that. He gets it put into a nice frame and spends a lot of time decorating it himself with little glue-on jewels and everything. It's a piece of bling to be reckoned with by the time he's done with it. But wait! There's more! Because there's always more when a Day's involved. He also gets Doom's help into procuring some really nice To'Ak Chocolate and caviar and Dubai's truffles and something called "swallow's nest" that Thisday honestly doesn't even know what it is but apparently is some super expensive delicacy and so it's going into the gift box. He really just thought it would be amusing to get some of the most high end things out there and see what Eisuke thought of them, because Eisuke is the most valuable person to him.

And now Doomsday... well, of course she and Eisuke have never really gotten along. Eisuke probably isn't even aware yet that she's been revived through a series of fortunate or unfortunate events, depending on how you want to look at it. Point is, there's a lot about her he doesn't know, and that's very much her fault for antagonizing him when they first met. Part of her regrets that. Most of her doesn't. But the part of her that does can't help but wish to make amends, as that part of her wishes to grow, pushing up through the decaying soil of the rest of her, like a little shoot of growth reaching for the sun. That little part of her dumps a bunch of different colored shiny glass rocks she found at the glass rock beach into a box, without any sort of organization or packaging, along with a note that just says Let's hope none of these are cursed, hehehehe - Doomsday, before sealing it up. All of them are, in fact, cursed... with good luck. Doom tested each of them herself.

With that done, it's time to write their collective note, which they each write in turn.

Eisuke,

We miss you terribly! Come back to us immediately! Or, you know, as soon as you can. There's no rush. OR MAYBE THERE IS. We're kidding. The only rush is that we miss you, but that's a given. We understand that you have lots to do and that's okay! We hope it's going well for you despite the fact that you said it's been hell. We hope that was a joke or an exaggeration, and if it wasn't, well, shit, man, it better get better or else we're gonna have to charge in there and start fucking up some shit! (squinty eyes)

Thursday - Seriously though, Eisuke, I hope you're doing well! I miss your face! I just can't play Tetris without you here - it's not right, man. You know what I mean? I mean, I can, but it's weird. You know I met someone from another planet who had never heard of Tetris, and they don't allow computers and computer tech on their world, so I had to like, draw him a picture and explain it by hand? It was wild! Try playing Tetris without an actual console to play it on. It's just not the same. But anyway, it's all in that journal I gave you, so you'll see what I mean. I hope you get a kick out of some of the things in there. The multiverse is something else, isn't it? Love you!

Thisday - What can I say other than I miss you, Eisuke? Well. I love you, I guess? Is it too soon for that? Wait, no it's not, Thursday said it! So I can say it too. I mean, I know she said it in a different way than how I mean, but I can still say it too. I hope it's okay for me to. It's how I feel, at any rate. But yeah. The gifts! I hope you like them. I thought you might get a kick out of it, hehe. Some of it might look and smell really weird but I swear to you none of it is rotten! It's just weird rich people shit! If it tastes awful you should blame them for having weird taste! When we get together we'll go get some actual food, haha. Anyway, love you, Eisuke. Take care.

Doomsday - THAT NOTE INSIDE THE BOX WAS A JOKE, THE ROCKS ARE NOT ACTUALLY CURSED. I MEAN, THEY ARE, BUT THEY'RE CURSED WITH GOOD LUCK, YOU'RE WELCOME.

When everything is all packaged up and ready to go, the three Days stand together in front of the door that takes them to Kamurocho. They put those boxes into the doorway, and give them a good push, and then close the door.

And then it's time to get back to work.

Which isn't really work. It's just goofing off. But it'll do until it's time to see their friend again.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

Support me with a kofi

[theglittersalamango]

minimal last xmas craft I'm posting here for use tumblr like usually as photos storage to upload on my neocities website later in crafts page for not waste the precious 1gb space, few bamboo coffee stir sticks (or icepops, whatever need just be some wood/long stick of any material), super glue in the corners, vynil glue for glitter better if trasparent and random glitter, and then put whatever decoration like in the center maybe an unlighted candle, flowers or tiny gnome statue idk

[moonwhisperdice]

How to start making your own spur dice molds!

Hello fellow dice nerds! A few people have asked recently how I make my dice spur/cut molds so I thought I’d do a little write up on it for future reference. 🎲 To start, here is what you need: 

A set of master dice you are making your molds from. I just use generic HD dice. 

Coffee stir straws (*cough* I grabbed some from work *cough*).

Molding clay.

3 oz plastic cups. You may even be able to use 2 oz cups (that would save you some silicone) but I haven’t tried that yet. These 3 oz cups are the same I use for mixing resin.

Hot glue/hot glue gun.

Scissors.

Xacto knife.

Silicone. Here are brands I’ve used. Each have pros and cons, but all work. - Ecoflex 00-30 Super Soft Platinum Silicone - Alumilite High Strength 3 Liquid Mold Making Rubber - Smooth On Sorta Clear 12

🎲 Now down to the nitty gritty

1) Make sure your master dice are clean and dry. 2) Dab a small drop of hot glue on one of the dice points (or on the stir stick itself). I usually use corner connected to the 1 – but that isn’t necessary. 3) Quickly! Before the glue stars to dry. Press the end of the stir straw against the die and hold until the straw doesn’t wiggle and seems firm. Cut straw down considerably, mine is just over half an inch. Repeat for all 7 dice.

4) Clean up the hot glue. You will have hot glue strings and a little ring of hot glue around your straw. I just use a fingernail to peal that off while being careful not to break the straw off. 5) Next, get a very small ball of molding clay and press it into the center base of your plastic cup. I like to let it set for a second because the clay is warm after you handle it and I want it to cool down and get a little harder – I’ve even popped them in the refrigerator for a minute. 

*Note: In these photos I used a little plastic cap around my clay - that is completely unnessasay and should be ignored. ;) 

6) Stick the fee end of your straw in the clay. Tada! You’ve just made the spur part of your mold!

*Note in these photos the straw is longer than it should be. And you don’t need the plastic caps around the clay.  7) Mix your silicone (follow package instructions) and pour into cup. I pour near the side and not directly on the dice so as to not shift it.     Note: If you don’t use a pressure pot I recommend heating your silicone (put both parts in a waterproof ziplock bag, place that bag in a pitcher or container of hot water, then remove after letting set some time. Your silicone containers should feel warm). Then mix part A and part B gently to decrease bubbles Pour your silicon slowly and from up high so there is a long thin line of silicone running into your mold cup. This will help significantly with bubbles. If you have bubbles in your molds you will have flaws on your dice!     If you have a pressure pot just mix that stuff like god isn’t watching and dump it in there ;) (Being careful not to knock your die over of course). 8) Wait. Either put your mold in your pressure pot or somewhere safe and let your silicone cure. 

9) Once you’ve followed your silicone’s directions and let your molds harden it is time to cut them out.! I use scissors to cut the lip of the plastic cup and then just rip it down that line and peel it off. Remove molding clay (sometimes the straw will come with it, sometimes it won’t, no worries). 10) Cut your dice out. This is a delicate part, if you can see you dice or if you can stretch the opening with a finger to get a glimpse of it you want to try and cut along an edge of the dice. I cut on two sides across from each other so that I only have to go down maybe a third of the way (less if you are using Ecoflex 00-30, because it is so soft you can cut just a little and squish the die out). 

11) Pop your dice out. A combo of pull and push. And Voilà! You have spur/cut molds! 

🎲Tips on using your molds

When using my molds I either wrap them in packing tape (one strip all the way around) or use rubber bands (my preferred method) to keep them closed when filling with resin and letting the resin cure. (Be careful if you are using Ecoflex 00-30 because it is so soft if your tape/rubberbands are too tight it will misshape your die). 

That’s all folks! I know that was a lot of detail, but I hope it is helpful! Be sure to check out my other post on the basics of making dice and find me on Instagram for all my dice making adventures (and misadventures). Thanks!! And here is a picture of some unfinished pretty shinies just for fun.  🎲 

[mixed-imagination]

Something Borrowed (pt. 4) - Steve Rogers x Reader (ORIGINAL VERSION)

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

Summary: You and Steve are best friends. You are in love with him, but he doesn’t know. Steve had always had some sort of feelings for you, but he had never realized them until he had found out how you felt.  Unfortunately, Steve is newly engaged to Sharon Carter.

Warnings: some Bucky fluff, & Steve angst - also just letting you know this story is progressive, so i apologize if you hate waiting for the romance. it’ll be worth the wait i swear.

Word Count: 2,500+

Notes: My inspiration for this came from the movie Something Borrowed. ALSO! Please play this gorgeous cover of “Twice” by Little Dragon while you read :D https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1JIZ6nPw2U 

You can put it repeat or play it when I mention it during a certain point of the story. (You can listen to it on Spotify/AppleMusic if you’re on mobile --- the song gives me sad feels #vampirediaries)

Steve’s booming voice alerts the three of you and you rush to scramble to your feet. You exchange panicky looks with Wanda and Nat, not knowing what the heck to do. You are not ready to face Steve right now.

Nat quickly pushes you over the to couch to try to get you to hide.

“Just stand still. I got this,” Wanda whispers harshly at you.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. The pace of your breath begins to increase, your anxiety growing rapidly. Your shaky legs hurtle behind the couch. You aren’t sure what exactly Wanda is planning on doing, but you trust her. 

Wanda turns away from you, lifts her hands, and waves her fingers intricately. A red glow generates in her palms, energy seeping out of the tips of her fingers. You know you’ve seen her use her powers countless times, but she never fails to amaze you. Wanda stares intensely at the scarlet ball of energy she created until the orb abruptly disperses throughout the common area.

You see the faded light rapidly pass through everyone and the walls. “Where-where did Y/N go?” Nat’s eyes are wide. You curiously look around and down at yourself if anything has changed, but you don’t feel anything, “What did you---”

Nat’s gaze shoots to Wanda, whispering sternly, “I can hear her, but I can’t see her?”

Wanda turns around for a moment and looks at you, “Only I can see you, Y/N. Don’t speak.” You gulp and shift uncomfortably. Wanda must’ve used her telepathic powers as a type of illusory hypnosis to manipulate everyone around her into not perceiving you.

You dread the moment when you see Steve’s face. You didn’t know how you will react. Will you cry? Smile? Yell? Or have a meltdown? The fear of the unknown is eating you alive with each second that passes. The only thing you are certain about is the fact that you are having an anxiety attack. 

You stand behind the couch in front of the glass walls. You clench your fists and suck your mouth in, biting the inside of your lips.

The second Steve appears Nat and Wanda scurry to look ‘normal.’ Nat quickly hops in the seat you had previously sat in, and Wanda leans her elbow on the kitchen island, resting her chin on her palm.

Steve steps in, and you can feel your heart start to break. The sight of him makes you want to cry all over again. Wanda glances at you and notices the gloom on your face.

He looks absolutely perfect. He’s wearing a white, under armor T-shirt, basketball shorts, and running shoes. The corners of your mouth curve up slightly, adoring the image of him on his morning run. Your smile quickly falters when your gaze falls upon who is beside him --- Sharon. She is sporting something more casual, unlike her agent uniform. She has on a floral blouse, fitted, white suit pants, and tan flats. She looks vibrant.

Your eyebrows scrunch up and your jaw tenses at the sight of them. Steve’s hand is resting on the small of her back, guiding Sharon while she beams up at him.

“Hey!” Sharon chirps.

“Morning, ladies,” Steve smiles broadly. The two spies give each other a quick knowing look. The gesture is not missed by Steve though. 

Nat nods slowly, “G’morning, Cap.” She forks a bite of her pancake into her mouth.

Wanda stands up straight, crossing her arms. The deep, chocolate color of her eyes darken at his presence. “Steve,” his name darkly rolls off her tongue. She gives a tight smile, her expression almost plastic.

The blonde, super soldier raises a brow at their strange responses. Sharon doesn’t know Wanda or Nat well enough to tell that something was up, but you know Steve knows better. The tension is oozing through the walls.  It is so thick, you can cut it with a knife. 

You notice a sort of stare-off forming between Steve and the two women. The awkward silence becomes too dreadfully long that Sharon begins to realize as well. Sharon’s curls bounce as her head whips between them, her bright smile never faltering. She coughs, “Steve?”

Steve snaps out of the contest and turns to her, his smile returning, “You want some breakfast, sweetheart?”

You grimace at their couple-yness. Gross.

Not wanting to cause any more tension, Nat, hops off the bar seat and starts pouring fresh coffee into a mug, “Coffee?”

Sharon nods and walks over, “I would love coffee. Thank you!”

A breath, you didn’t know you were holding, let out in relief.  You are thankful for Nat; you could hug her. Wanda is the type to hold grudges, especially against people who hurt the ones she loves and cares about, so of course, she’s petty towards Steve.

You look down at your palms. You had slightly bloody nail imprints in your skin. You must’ve been so nervous that you didn’t notice you had been digging your nails until you felt the pain. Your thumb runs over the moon-crests as your lips click in a wince.

This noise immediately makes Steve and Nat’s heads turn to your direction. You freeze. Nat is looking your general direction, not actually pin-pointing you, but Steve is looking at you dead in the eyes. You know he can’t actually see you, but his hard gaze starts to build the ache in your chest.  You needed to get out of there, now.

Wanda’s hands squeeze the leather sleeves around her crossed arms and her jaw tenses. She knows I had made the noise. She huffs, making Steve turn back. “Someone else here?” he asks.

“What?” Sharon stirs her coffee, oblivious to what is happening around her.

Nat smoothly spits out, “God, I have to remind Tony that mice are crawling around here.”

You smile slightly at Nat. You take this opportunity to slowly tiptoe towards the elevator, which is a few feet around the corner from the entrance to the common area. You bite your lip as you pass behind Steve’s large being, trying not to look at him.

You press the elevator button. You know once the elevator reaches your floor, the doors would ding open, so you’re going to have to get out of there quickly. You stand there, nervously waiting for it to come.  You can smell Steve’s musky scent, and it pinches the anguish in your heart. God, he always smelled so good. You mentally slap yourself for giving in, but you turn on your heel. Wanda’s eyes widen as she glances at you, silently willing you to stop. Steve doesn’t catch it.

Your head faces his back as you stand there and examine him. You are glad you are slightly behind the corner, meaning Sharon is not in your peripheral vision. You can see Steve’s muscles under his shirt tightening.

He raises a brow at Nat, “Mice? This high up in the building?” He’s onto them.

Your face frowns and your head cocks to the side as you study his being. Memories of yesterday’s events flash in your head. You wonder how this man easily broke your heart. You couldn’t wrap your head around how you ended up in this situation. Heavy emotions start to fill your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so sad. Of course, you knew why, but it was still so unfair to you. You both hated Steve and loved him at the same time. What’s even worse is that you kept punishing yourself. You were making yourself crazy going back and forth with your thoughts. It was exhausting and torturing.

I hate you so much.

Why did you hurt me?

How could I have let myself be in this spot? I’m so stupid!

What did I do wrong?

Before you knew it, tears start rolling down your cheeks. Nat continues to distract Sharon, but the scowl on Wanda’s face vanishes as she stares at you. The image of you in despair pains her almost as much as you hurt. It breaks her heart so much that she loses her grip on her powers; without realizing, her eyes flash red. Steve immediately notices her attention is elsewhere and turns around.

Shit.

At the same time the elevator door dings open, and you whip inside. You punch the “close doors” button and glue your back to the corner. As the doors close, you see Steve standing before you, giving you a confused but concerned gaze. You just stare at him, numb.

“Y/N?”

Your breath hitches at the whisper of your name escaping his mouth. As soon as the doors close, your legs give in and you fall into a crouch, sobbing hoarsely.

~~~

(play this cover of “Twice” by Little Dragon while you continue reading :D https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1JIZ6nPw2U OR listen to it on Spotify/AppleMusic if you’re on mobile --- the song gives me sad feels #vampirediaries)

You decided it was too risky to leave your room. Of course, you wanted to be okay for your friends and the rest of the Avengers team, but you knew Steve was the heart of the group. He was always going to be around somehow.  Therefore, you told FRIDAY to disallow access to your floor, not wanting to be around anyone for a while. Wanda, Nat, and Bucky were blowing up your phone, asking if you were okay, but you ignored it. Steve even called a few times. However, you needed to be alone. You needed to grieve and let it out.

For hours, you were cooped up in your room --- a sad, gloomy song blasting on repeat. You blankly stared up at the ceiling, tears continuously rolling onto your pillow as your own thoughts destroyed you. Occasionally, your numb trance would break and you would weep.

Meanwhile, Wanda, Nat, Sam, Bucky, and Tony were scattered around the common area tensely discussing how to help you.

Wanda grit her teeth, “Tony, she’s all alone up there! Override the lockdown and enable access to her room.”

Tony is leaning on the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. His eyes are locked to the ground. He shakes his head and sighs, “I can’t.”

She steps towards him, a jerks her head back in disbelief, “What? Tony---”

“She needs to be alone for a while,” Sam shrugs. “I agree,” Nat nods.

Wanda’s eyebrows furrow, “Y/N needs us,” she whispers.

Bucky is sitting on the opposite couch from Tony, eyes shifting from one to the other. 

“She can’t be alone, Tony. What if she does something stupid?”

“Don’t worry, FRIDAY is always active. If Y/N disables the lock, FRIDAY will notify me,” he rubs his forehead, “If she even attempts to do something reckless, we’ll all be alerted of it.”

Sam scoffs, “Y/N’s a hell of a woman. She would never do anything.”

Tony nods at Wanda, “She’s a smart gal, Wanda. One of the smartest scientists... after me and Banner, of course.”

The two spies roll their eyes at Tony’s unnecessary comment.

“Shut up.”

Tony chuckles to lighten the tension of the group, “We know her. She’s strong. She’ll get through it.”

Bucky processes Tony’s words. 

He agreed with Tony, but also with Wanda. For some reason he wanted to see you and take care of you. He didn’t know why or how this feeling suddenly emerged, but he finally noticed it when he had woken up before you this morning. He saw your sleeping form and thought you were so beautiful and so fragile. He wanted to continue holding you. He wanted to protect you. 

Bucky knew he always cared about you. You were one of his best friends, of course. But he didn’t know what this feeling even was. Did he just want to comfort his friend or... was it something else?

“Yea, let’s just let her do her thing, and when she’s ready to come out we’ll be here, ready, if she needs us,” Sam’s sucks in his lips and Nat nods in agreement.

Wanda’s looks around at everyone in uncertainty. Her gaze stops on Bucky’s, silently hoping he would be on her side, “Bucky?” In response, he removes his eyes from hers. Wanda huffs, crossing her arms and backing down, “Fine. Have it your way.”

~~~

You are still laying in bed when the window in your room creaks open. Normally, you would freak out, but you are so numb and stuck in a sad trance that you cannot care any less. Your head slowly turns to the noise. You can barely see from behind your blurry tears, but you can make out a large black figure. They have shoulder-length hair.

Your throat is dry and weak, “N-Nat?” you struggle out a painfully soft murmur.

“No, Y/N,” the figure crouches down over you. 

You blink your eyes several times, tears falling, and your vision slowly clears up. You sniffle as your arm weakly reaches out to them. The figure gently takes your hand. You squeeze the hand; it is cold and hard. Metallic.

You knew this hand. You smile slightly, “Bucky...” You can see him clearly now. The wrinkles on his forehead are prominent in heavy concern. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

“I just wanted to check on you and see if you were okay...” he whispers.

You wipe your puffy eyes, not caring if he sees you like this, “What time is it?” your body rolls towards him.

“It’s late,” he purses his lips, “The AM,” he stands and sits on the edge of the bed. As soon as you feel the bed dip down, you immediately curl up next him, secretly desperate for contact and warmth. “Do you need anything” he places his flesh hand on your head, stroking your hair.

You shake your head, taking in his body heat. 

Bucky wanted to take care of you but at the same time, he didn’t want to bother you. He wanted to “let you do your thing.” He sighs and starts to get up, “I’m going---”

You instantaneously get onto your knees and hastily grasp onto the back of his torso. “NO,” you holler. Your arms wrap around him and your fingers dig into his chest as if you are desperately hanging onto dear life. 

“Y/N...” his heart breaks for you as he sits there.

Your is forehead leaning into the back of his neck. You struggle to suppress it but you let out a quick wail. “Please... Stay with me,” your grip tightens as you weep harder.

Bucky slowly nods and lazily slips into the bed with you. Your cries soften as you snuggle and position yourself comfortably in his arms. You curl into his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat. Its fast rhythm doesn’t give you a second thought. Instead, it comforts you and starts lulling you to sleep.

Throughout the night, the feelings in Bucky’s stomach only grew to confuse him even more. He studied you sleeping form. He could see your face looked severely tired. Usually, he would poke fun at you whenever you had a puffy looking face, but now, all he wanted to do was hold you, and it frustrated him to the core.

oH, bOy.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

Notes: god, school just started and i’m already bummed out and feeling down. writing and reading your comments really makes me feel a lot better, so thank you all for the love :) I hope you all stick around with me in this journey throughout this series.

---

ALSO: I will continue to add tags. However, if they don’t work, I am sorrrrry.

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[frangipanidownunder]

The right me for you

Written for @leiascully‘s XFWritingChallenge: Forgiveness

Angsty post Ep for Founder’s Mutation

It must have been the guttural roar of the wind through the trees that masked the sound of the car arriving. It must have been the flickering of the candles on the bench top that hid the flash of the headlights. It must have been the time of the day that left Mulder’s mind smudgy and billowing so that he didn’t register the knocking at the door.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning. A time when he often braved the depths of his memories, dug a trench around the black and white of the clear cut and allowed the murkiness to leach out to entertain the greyness of possibility. It was usually a time for reflection, a time for admonishment. A time for forgiveness.

           It was most definitely not a time that Scully called.

She stood at the screen door, hugging herself. She would have hated his initial reaction – that she looked fragile, but that’s the word his brain supplied. He ushered her through, his heart pulsing as she walked to the living room and sat on the couch. Over their years together, he’d collected these moments in his mind, where she let herself be seen without her armour. He was humbled each and every time. Perhaps especially more so now. Now that she was no longer here every day. Now that she had plenty of time to reconstruct the walls.

           ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She picked at a thread on the cushion on her lap. She was looking at the small table that held a lamp, an old watch he’d found in a suit pocket, a pile of coins, a sticky coffee ring. There used to be photo frames. Miniature ones. Faces captured in bad lights.

           He sat in the chair opposite. ‘The last case, Scully. It was hard.’

           ‘It’s not the case, Mulder.’ She looked up briefly and he saw the dark circles under her eyes. He could see the mole above her lip in the glow of the lamplight. He loved that mole. He loved that she hid it for so long, but that she knew that he knew about it. It was a part of her armour. He understood that the foundation and the powder that covered it were as necessary as the heels and the suits and the badge and the weapon.

           ‘It’s never the case,’ she said, rubbing her forehead. Her voice was sluggish, cracked. ‘It’s just me, my…’

           He leant forward, elbows on knees. ‘Your what?’

           She opened her mouth, but only let out a frustrated sigh. ‘What were you doing awake, Mulder? It’s 2.30 in the morning and I didn’t wake you.’

           He shrugged. ‘Those kids, Scully. Where are they? The casual disregard that Goldman had for the consequences of the work he was doing. Agnes and her baby, her desperation. It was a tough case. I just can’t unwind like I used to.’

           ‘You never could, Mulder. You were always wired on a case.’

           ‘But you used to be able to sleep anywhere, Scully. You would be able to file away the bad stuff along with your reports and get on with the next case. I’ve never met anyone with the ability to compartmentalise quite as well as you. It’s like your super power.’

           She chuffed out a tired snort of laughter. ‘Maybe my super powers need a reboost. I haven’t been sleeping well since we started back on the job. Maybe they put something in the ID these days, some kind of upper to keep the older agents going.’

           ‘Are you sure about this? About your decision?’

           ‘I said there was no choice, Mulder. I meant it.’

           ‘But this case, those children. William…’

           She tucked her legs under her to one side, pulling the hem of her skirt down and hugging the cushion to her middle. She picked up the watch, running the strap through her fingers. ‘We pulled the thread. It’s still unravelling.’

           ‘Should we have left it tangled, Scully?’

           When she looked at him her eyes were wet. The tip of her nose pink. Her lips trembling as she licked them. ‘No.’ She shook her head so that her hair flew, catching across her face. She straightened it, tucked it behind her ear. Cleared her throat. ‘No, no. It’s something we needed to do.’

           ‘You know what I think, Scully? I think that we started pulling the thread a long time before this case. A long time before we rejoined the FBI. I think it was unravelling since he was born.’

           She nodded. ‘And what happens when the thread is straight? When there’s nothing left to unspool? Do we get our answers, Mulder?’

           His laugh was as bitter as her words. ‘I don’t think it works that way.’

           The noise of the watch against the surface of the table seemed to hang between them so that when she spoke again her voice seemed disconnected, almost ethereal.

‘You said you had to put William behind you, when I asked you if you thought about him. How do you do that? How do you not carry him with you everywhere, every day? You say I compartmentalise better than anyone you know, but you have no idea how envious I am of your capacity to do that, Mulder.’

She let out a small sob.

He moved to sit next to her. She sunk against him, shuddering with the weight of her grief. ‘I’m sorry, Scully. I know it hurts. I saw you in that hospital with Mrs Goldman. I saw how what she said cut into you. I wish I could do something more, to take away the pain. But I think you need it. It’s a reminder. A way of making sure you don’t forget. It stabs you in the guts if you don’t nurture it for too long.’ He dropped a kiss on top of her head. ‘I think you need the pain. I know I do.’

The wind lifted the rafters with a series of rattling gusts. The window frames shook. A low howl filled the roof space. Mulder had woken earlier, surprised to find Scully still next to him, her face twisted against his chest. She stirred, rubbed her nose, pushed herself upright and groaned as her neck clunked with each sideways movement.

           ‘Coffee?’

           ‘Please.’

           She took a quick shower and surprised him again when she returned to the kitchen wearing his bath robe.

           ‘I put your linen away, Scully.’

           ‘I know.’

           ‘You look good in mine, though.’

           She looked down at herself and chuckled.

           ‘That’s another of your super powers, Scully. The ability to look better in my clothes than I do.’

           ‘I don’t think I could do your Armani suits justice, Mulder. You fill them out pretty good.’

           ‘Thank you,’ he laughed. ‘You wearing my shirts, though.’

           She sipped on her coffee and he enjoyed watching her blush.

           ‘Are you feeling better, Scully?’

           She shook her head. ‘No. But I think you’re right, Mulder. I think if I lose the pain, I lose too much. I’m afraid to not remember him, I’m afraid to not dream about him. I’m afraid that if I erase too much of him that I’ll erase myself too.’

           ‘When I said I’ve put it behind me, I didn’t mean that I’ve forgotten. I just meant that I’d put the guilt behind me. I’ve learned to accept the past and I’ve learned to accept that I can’t change it. You made me do that, Scully. When you left. You set me on that path.’ He put down his mug and gestured for her to come forward. She put her head on his chest. ‘I think you need to forgive yourself, Scully. I think it’s time.’

           ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’

           He kissed the side of her face. ‘Do you imagine being a family? With William?’

           ‘When I dare myself.’

           ‘In mine, we watch movies and eat popcorn, we climb trees and construct cubby houses out of blankets and build rocket ships, we talk about girls, we shave together.’

           She pulled back and threaded her fingers through his. ‘In mine, I take him to school and I patch up his cuts and ice his bruises and I read him classic novels and I teach him the periodic table and the bones of the human body and how to make pancakes.’

           ‘In my dreams, you are always there too, Scully. Close by. Your presence makes everything whole. I can’t dream without you.’

           She blinked back tears. ‘And you’re always in mine, Mulder. You’re the backbone, the rock, the tether. You hold it all together.’

           ‘Then let me be that for you now I’ll be here to hold it together. Always. Forgive yourself.’

           ‘Oh, Mulder,’ she said, her voice croaking. ‘I’m not ready yet. I’m just not ready.’

           He rubbed her back through the towelling. ‘Okay. But when you are, I’ll be here.’

           ‘I know you will. You told me ’

           ‘Being the rock, the anchor, the glue?’

           She chuffed. ‘No, just being the you that I need.’

           ‘Is that my super power? Being the right me for you?’

           ‘I think that’s more than a super power, Mulder. I think you deserve a sainthood, an altar for worshippers.’

           ‘Halos and deities aside, Scully. I want you to promise me that you will work towards forgiveness. William is out there and we have to believe that he is happy and safe. If we can’t give him that, we fail him.’

           Nodding, she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. She picked her coffee mug up and headed back to the couch. She sat down and put the mug on the table, lining it up with the coffee stain. ‘Where did you put the photo frames, Mulder?’

           ‘In the closet, in a box with your linen and your tea cup and a bottle of shampoo you never used and an earring I found on the floor of the bedroom and a pen you used to carry inside your suit jacket and two old lipstick tubes, Midnight Promise and Burnished Bronze, and an old wallet containing nearly thirty dollars and the pieces of you that you left behind.’

           She gave him a tight, sad smile. ‘In my dreams our house is filled with photos of him, of us, of our family.’

           ‘I’ll get them out again, Scully. If that’s what you want.’

           She shook her head. ‘This is your house now, Mulder. I can’t tell you what to do here.’

           ‘I’m just trying to be the right me for you, Scully.’

           ‘When you say it like that it sounds so needy, so precious. And that’s not what I meant.’

           ‘I’m teasing, Scully. But if there’s a way to bring you back here, I’m going to find it.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘I miss you. I miss you more now that I see you more often. I know that doesn’t make sense.’

           ‘It does. Believe me, it does. And I want nothing more than to walk back through that door for good. But I’m not the right me for you, Mulder. Not yet, anyway.’ She picked up the watch and smiled slowly at him. ‘I’ll get this fixed for you. Bring it back next week.’

It must have been the guttural roar of the wind through the trees that masked the sound of the car arriving. It must have been the flickering of the candles on the bench top that hid the flash of the headlights. It must have been the time of the day that left Mulder’s mind smudgy and billowing so that he didn’t register the knocking at the door.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning. A time when he often braved the depths of his memories, dug a trench around the black and white of the clear cut and allowed the murkiness to leach out to entertain the greyness of possibility. It was usually a time for reflection, a time for admonishment. A time for forgiveness.

           And now it was a time that Scully called.

[year-long-money-diary]

DAY 2

6:15 AM - I wake up feeling terrible...again. I set an alarm for 6:30 AM.

6:30 AM - I spend time on reddit and social media to mosey about. I’m trying to refrain from falling asleep because I always end up feeling worse when I do. 

6:55 AM - I finally decide to roll out of bed remembering how much it sucks when I’m fighting against the clock to get to work before my boss. I put water on the stove to boil and hop in the shower. I get out of the shower and put some ramen into the boiling water and let that cook while I put away the dishes from yesterday. I slice up an apple for a snack later in the day. 

7:15 AM - I sit down to eat my ramen with some YouTube. 

7:45 AM - I get dressed (a polka dot black blouse with a black skirt). I remember to grab a book that I purchased for my friend whose book club I’m attending later in the day. I also grab the left over stir fry and the last slice of banana bread for lunch. 

8:00 AM - I should have left 5 minutes ago. But, I wash the dishes, check the weather to see if I need an umbrella, and grab the trash to throw out on my way out. 

8:05 AM - I head out, throw the trash out, and head to the metro. 

8:40 AM - I get to my desk, turn the heat that’s still running from yesterday off, and log into my email. I put my lunch in the fridge and grab my mug to get a coffee from the office kitchen.

9:30 AM - I check in with my boss and it looks like we’re on the same page. He wants me to sit in on the 2 PM meeting he has with a client. 

12:30 PM - I reheat the stir fry for lunch - it’s delicious but not very filling. Since I finally have good insurance, I make a dentist appointment. I have pretty severe anxiety surrounding the dentist after a bad experience so it was scary but the woman on the phone was very reassuring and even talked through future sedation options with me.

2 PM - I sit in on the call my boss asked me to sit in on. It’s a lot of back and forth and very “business-y”. I work in lobbying but I’m a lot more interested in the technology and proposals than the business / politicking / keeping clients on but both are important. The meeting runs over and we have an interview we need to have at 3- my boss asks me and a colleague to run it from the other conference call so we’re not late. My heel becomes detached from my shoe and I am really sad about it - I’ve literally only worn them indoors while at work and for 4 weeks at that.

3 PM - We start this conference call with a potential consultant. The person rambles and talks forever. I am exhausted and bored. My boss periodically mutes the call to highlight how unaware this candidate is.

4 PM - I’ve finally returned to my office and am exhausted. I am looking for somewhere to go after work. I don’t really want to spend money but I’m also tired and I AM supposed to be at book club at 7 which makes it unreasonable to go home after work.

5 PM - I switch into tennis shoes and run out of work. I head to the metro and get off at the stop with my favorite wine bar: Verre Wine Bar. 

5:30 PM - I order a glass of the Moda from their happy hour menu while trying to figure out why my emotions were raging. I pull up the summary my roommate wrote for me regarding the book we’re supposed to be discussing (long story but I’m hoping to read from now on). 

6 PM - I order a brussel sprout salad because I think I’m hungry which is what is making me feel particularly tired. I also order a second glass of Moda. The book club host posts in the FB group asking who is planning on coming. Turns out it’s only me and my roommate. We decide to impromptu host.

6:45 PM - I pay my tab and walk home so I can meet my roommate and the host at my apartment. 23.80

7:10 PM - I get home, dice some green apple, (my roommate made mac and cheese) and we wait for our friend. I glue the heel back to my shoe with some super glue and rant to my roommate.

7:20 PM - Our friend arrives and we pour some wine we have open. We start eating some mac and cheese and chat about the book.

9 PM - We switch to talking about theology and travel. 

10 PM - I start picking up dishes, washing the dishes and brushing my teeth to indicate that I really need to get to bed.

11 PM - I crash while watching a YouTube video.

DAY TWO TOTAL: $23.80

[drawerevent03-blog]

Painted Stir Stick Garland

If you look closely, you might recognize the materials used to make this garland – wooden coffee stir sticks! With a quick coat of paint, these everyday items are given an unexpected new use as decor. We used four bright shades of paint and left some of the stir sticks as-is for a fun and playful look. Of course, you can absolutely paint your garland in any color scheme you like, to match whatever theme you have planned for your next party. We’re betting this garland would look adorable in monochromatic colors, or even with some glittery shades mixed in. Whatever colors you choose, keep reading for the full instructions below.

Step 1 Using at least three colors of paint, paint about 50 stir sticks. If hanging against a wall, it’s only necessary to paint one side. Let dry.

Step 2 Arrange the colors in groupings of five, and cut the center stick to 4”, the inner two to 3” and the outer two to 2” lengths.

Step 3 Cut a piece of string, apply a small dab of glue onto the back of the first stir stick, and press into the string. When attaching the next sticks, use an extra stir stick as a spacer to ensure all sticks are evenly spaced. Keep each grouping about 1” apart – you can cut an extra stick to use as a spacer for this as well.

Step 4 Repeat as necessary, using more than one string if desired.

And that’s it! Your garland is now ready to hang. We made a few different strings and taped them to a wall, but these would be super fun to hang anywhere around the house, like in the top of a doorframe or just hanging from the ceiling. If hanging in a place where you can see both sides of the garland, you might want to paint both the back and front of the coffee stir sticks so that it looks just a great from all angles.

Looking for even more DIY party inspiration? Check out the blog archives for even more ideas!

Happy crafting!!

Source: https://www.handmadecharlotte.com/painted-stir-stick-garland/