#expalin memory

[anika-ann]

Take the Ache - pt.4

Part 4: The Nice in Nice Try

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 11,8k (double serving, y'all)

Series masterlist (and summary)

Warnings: canon semi-typical injuries, mentions of temporary death (cardiac arrest, reader) and the use of AED and brief CPR, references to Steve’s sacrifice in CA:TFA, Lo and Steve being idiots, feels

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge, using various prompts; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; the title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2:  No use of Y/N. Main character’s nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise). Thank you for reading so far and enjoy 💕

This feeling – this heavy weight sitting on your chest – felt entirely out of place. It felt so foreign; and seemed so nonsensical, contrasting sharply with the light behind your eyelids.

There was light, undeniably so. The light was cold and warm all at once, pulsing tenderly and steadily with every beat of your heart; or perhaps that was an illusion created by the low periodical beeping reaching your ears as you were lying in all that brightness.

The feeling was a little funny – the more the light consumed you, the warmer it tangled with something deep within you. But with the warmth taking over, so was the weight.

God, the weight. Every cell of your body fought natural laws except for gravity and it felt like it weighted a ton.

As the light consumed you, so did the instinct to smile, as the breathless sound of your name – your nickname really – pulled you further into the inviting light and brought on a memory, tied to a pair of bright blue eyes with a speckle of green making them all the more perfect; a pair of pretty eyes slightly unfocused as they stared at you when you put your foot in your mouth and earned yourself a sweet nickname in the process.

Steve Rogers had no reason to be in the lab that day; he usually didn’t. His visits to your workshop had no other reason than him being the epitome of a caring Captain, checking up on a new addition to the Avengers’ team and the adjacent. You.

He strode in there with what could be considered a regularity at this point. He’d always stand there or paced a little bit, shoulders slightly stiff, his smile genuine but a bit unsure as if he couldn’t quite tell if he was bothering you by his presence. Today was no different. All handsome in the dark blue button-down and charcoal slacks, hair a little messy as if he had been running his hand though it – probably after a stressful meeting with a politician or two – he had come down to your lab to see how you were doing.

You liked his visits, no matter how brief. Steve – well, Captain Rogers, who gently insisted you called him his first name – seemed to genuinely care about the people under his albeit indirect command, and about people in general. It was one of the qualities you appreciated in people, even if your territory was mostly machines and equipment – and Steve seemed to have this feature ingrained in his tender heart. It softened your heart every time, seeing the deep sincerity in his gaze proving what he stood for, truly and not only for show – not only in front of the press, but in a more private setting. It softened your heart to see that the urban legends of his moral compass and sense for justice, even as it sometimes involved violence for the sake of peace and kindness, were not exaggerated. It was his demeanour too; you might be better at reading charts than people, but it was impossible to be blind to Steve Rogers being a brilliant, profoundly good man.

Frankly – though of that you had no proof beyond personal experience – the man made it hard for people not to fall for him; that was a scientific fact. It did not help Steve’ss situation that oftentimes, he seemed to know what people around him needed the most.

He must have, because he brought you coffee on at least three separate occasions, staying a while longer to talk you through your break on days when you needed to lean on someone, anyone, who had an understanding of the nature of your job without actually being in the business himself. Those little talks seemed to leave you not only with caffeine in your bloodstream and more peace in your mind, but also – unless you truly forgot how to be a human being after spending long hours in the world of circuits and codes and charts – in Steve’s as well. During his visits, his smile might sometimes barely be there at all, but it was always sweet – and always appeared a tad wider after your little chat.

And there came another scientific fact; it was literally impossible to not notice and fall for how unfairly pretty his smile was. You supposed one could expect as much on as a man who had literally been genetically improved to be a perfect soldier – but the reason for your heart thumbing soft and wild wasn’t the shape of his lips or their plumpness, as alluring it was. It was something you could not quite put your finger on, but yet again, undeniably existed.

And it always distracted you; like now, when this memory went far beyond how well-shaped his shoulders were, how wonderfully wide in comparison to his waist, or how gentle his hands could be when handing you coffee or tools despite how large they were and how hard they could punch a man.

He wasn’t supposed to be here today and yet he belonged and you could not imagine your workspace being deprived of his presence.

Today, he certainly was a welcoming and perfectly handsome distraction from the discussion you had had with Tony, resulting in him simply leaving one of his prototypes behind for you to take a look at as soon as possible despite you having told him you were busy with your own projects.

Upon pointing out repeatedly that refocusing was not possible at the very second, Tony had left; but he had met with Steve in the doorway. And Steve stayed. Asking how you were settling in, how it felt being here now, after a bit over a month.

The warmth blooming in your chest at him remembering the date even as you were sure he simply liked to keep track of things and people at the AI would haunt your days to come.

“Hey Steve… doing alright. It feels… right to be here,” you said after thinking about it briefly, feeling your shoulders relax, the interaction with Tony not forgotten, but momentarily overshadowed by Steve observing you with a small lopsided smile prompting you to elaborate. “I uhm… the last position, it wasn’t for me.”

“How so?” Steve inquired kindly, a flash of amusement in his eye as his watch vibrated with a message which – as it turned out later – was from Tony and he knew without checking.

God, his smile lit up the damn room when it reached his eyes and the sharp edge of his jaw should be illegal--

“Well, I know it sounds awful, but… I like having a workshop on my own, cooperating with others only when necessary.”

“Others like Tony, your absolute favourite person in the whole world?”

Steve grinned as you couldn’t but grimace slightly, huffing and sipping at the tea he had brought along; and then, because the man in front of you was so damn impossible, you exchanged a conspiratorial smile with him over the edge of the cup. It felt like you could do that; Steve definitely sounded like someone who had a fair share of experience with the man and it wasn’t badmouthing a boss if you only hinted at it.

Not to mention that something about Steve’s demeanour whispered that it was safe to tell the truth and the words spoken would not leave this room unless you wanted to.

“I admit nothing, but maybe he’s in the lower part of my favourite people list right now.”

Steve’s smile widened, almost boyish now, despite the fact you were all too aware that his soul was weighted with past losses and pain no boy should ever experience; and your heart skipped a beat, your thoughts stumbling one over the other, untying your tongue unwisely.

“But uhm… what I meant is that I definitely enjoy not having to be the boss to anyone but myself, you know? I don’t… I really don’t have the qualities of a boss, I think. I’m not… bossy.”

“Oh? Is that the main quality of a leader? Being unbearably bossy?” he asked.

One corner of his lips rose higher, his irises crinkling with laughter, utterly distracting, your already tangled thoughts scattering altogether.

“Hm?”

Steve smile turned downright beaming now – the gorgeous jerk – and it took you embarrassingly long to understand why he seemed to be holding back laughter.

When it did dawn to you, you set your cup down hastily, your whole world exploding in social propriety horror, blood draining from your face as you realized any courteous relationship you two had been building probably shattered and you had most definitely crossed a line.

But before you could somehow apologize for implying that he was obviously that, your colleague and living legend and yes, your boss in a way, he burst out laughing with such pure sincerity – and so damn brightly, the halo of warmth around him calling out to your heart – that you couldn’t but chuckle with him despite the embarrassment piercing as deep as to where your bones were.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Please, don’t, I needed that. Thank you,” Steve chuckled again, the cerulean blue of his eyes, with the cutest droplets of greenery you never failed to notice, crinkling with laughter still. “I’m sure many would agree, Tony most of all. But I’m glad you’re content here. It means you might stay… despite having to deal with some peculiar or bossy people keeping you company-”

“Oh my god-“

You whined, fighting the urge to hide your flushed face or simply walk out of your own workshop and leave him there, the jester, the little shit who was supposed to be and was a gentleman but there he was, having fun at your expense – and yet, you stayed and couldn’t but chuckle again, the joy of sharing a laugh with him mixing with mortification.

What a prime example of how capable you were of putting your foot in your mouth, wasn’t it?

But that was not how you earned your nickname, so sweet and unique to Steve, no.

That only came a few minutes later.

When Tony’s goddamn untested prototype simply decided to explode without as much as a warning beyond a silent click Steve’s supersoldier ears must have picked up on, because as the noise of explosion hit your own ears, you were already tackled down. Pinned to the ground and shielded by a warm weight of a man who didn’t hesitate to use his own body to protect you from harm since his vibranium shield wasn’t at hand.

By the time you began to process what had happened, Steve had rolled you over so he wasn’t crushing you. Your breaths were coming out short as you stared at him with wide eyes, your heart a second from beating its way out of your chest from both anger and fright – and concern.

Because that was most definitely blood trickling down Steve’s forehead.

And he was blinking up at you with confusion – as if he didn’t even remember he had been the one to shield you, the instinct simply lacing his soul and DNA alike – as you climbed off of him and coughed away the pressure in your chest. You spent a precious few moments scanning over the mess of your recently new workspace – now a bit sparkly and crispy and definitely messy, but at least with no fire – before your eyes zeroed on Steve again.

“Hey Lo,” he muttered, blinking, looking at your face with curiosity, causing you to frown harder, your pulse skyrocketing further at the nonsensical words coming out of his mouth.

He must have hit his head hard.

You prayed to lords of science that help was already on the way – so you only had to keep Steve talking, to be sure he was not passing out on you. Your eyes ran over his form quickly, apprehensive of seeing blood anywhere else – as if on his face wasn’t enough.

How seriously was he hurt? You could feel a dull echo of pain in your back but none in your head; a distant memory of Steve’s large hand cradling the back of your head tickled your mind. He had not failed to protect your skull from cracking against the floor despite having but milliseconds to get you down. Of course he had. But what about him?

With the frantic melody of your heart loud in your ears, you wanted to punch him and kiss him all at once for his reaction; and the adrenalin coursing your veins, screaming at your throw any attempt at normal behaviour out of the window, was not helping you decide which one of the two you should choose.

Maybe both?

It was the blood, the coppery scent of it and the dark patch in Steve’s light hair, that helped you push either of those urges aside, your hands aimlessly hovering above him, unsure whether you could touch him without hurting him further.

“My god, Steve, you’re blee-- Who’s Lo? Are you okay?” you demanded, laying your hand on his chest when he tried to get up, your mind scrambling for any knowledge about first aid you could possibly provide at site. All you knew was that he should not be moving much, because god knew if his head injury wasn’t connected with a spine injury. “Wha-“

To your utter bewilderment, Steve was smiling a bit in response – just how much of a concussion had he suffered? – appearing distracted as his hand covered yours on his sternum, gentle and warm, mumbling your name.

“Don’t know any Lo. But you have… this halo above your head. Looks nice. Are you okay?”

Huh?

Oh.

Oh.

Not a Hey Lo. A halo.

That made a lot more sense. Why didn’t you think of that on your own? You should have. It was just a game of light and possibly Steve’s concussion affecting his vision further. It was just physics. And physics was essential for your work. You were good at physics. You were a physicist.

Which would explain why you said what you did next. Any rational person would have chuckled, embarrassed, and said something intelligently dismissive and moved on.

But not you, oh no.

Instead, your stressed-out brain went out of its way to launch into explanations of the natural phenomenon of halos, of the tinniest of crystals in the atmosphere aligning just right, reflecting the electromagnetic radiation into the eye of the beholder, and the dual nature of light as particles and waves.

You were not proud of it – but your lecture certainly kept Steve’s very conscious attention on you until the AI paramedics on duty arrived along with the cleaning crew and took an awfully calm Steve away; but not before he gave you a reassuring smile, his eyes, slightly unfocused but still, undeniably focused on you, measuring you head to toe, checking your body for any injuries. Because of course he did.

Less than 24 hours later, he walked into your lab with a new cheeky greeting that only registered after your still shaken brain decided to have you hug him out of sheer relief; settling into that hug felt like it was suddenly the only right thing in the universe, right next to Steve’s soft voice and the new nickname.

“Hey, Lo.”

You wouldn’t admit it at the time, groaning at his teasing instead, but you fell in love with the nickname the very moment he spoke it; and fell a little bit more in love with him too. And when during one of the long nights at which you didn’t feel so great and found solace in the communal living room talking to him, he admitted with a soft smile that the nickname was about more than teasing and more than a memory, you realized you had fallen too deep.

Steve said he simply thought the nickname fit you very well; bright and brilliant, your need for everything to align just right and perfect in your inventions making you shine, sometimes so much it rendered others – or even yourself – blind to that fact that no matter how big your brain was, it was your even bigger heart that made you who you were.

It was the closest thing to calling you an angel and a genius at once and you were speechless.

As sappy as his words might be, it was exactly what you needed to hear at that time: at two a.m. at a long night thinking about how your inventions, while built to help your friends and those on the side of the angels, hurt people. And when spoken with utter sincerity, by a man whom you believed was nothing but good, and with a hand over the back of yours and then over your back when you went to hug Steve close, his words, just like his arms and his light, enveloped you in warmth and safety.

The light you saw behind your eyelids now, the weight still on you, made you wonder if this was what Steve had felt and seen that day in the lab when you were still sprawled over him, seconds after the explosion.

As you were mercilessly pulled towards that light, a soft weight you just become aware had been there the whole time disappeared from your hand, leaving it feeling strangely cold with absence.

“Aaaaand she lives,” a male voice you distantly recognized as Clint stated, the last push to opening and squinting your eyes against the unusual environment and company.

You were lying in bed. Clint stood nearby, a smirk with a shade of pride and worry on his lips. Bucky loomed in the corner of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest, looking grumpy with just a hint of a smile when you met his gaze. Tony at the foot of the bed. And Steve; on the opposite side of the bed to Clint, sitting in a chair by your bedside.

It was quite a crowd; guarding you in what was undeniably one of the AI medical department hospital-like rooms. You knew the space well – you had visited Steve here plenty of times, because he was a protector at heart and a reckless son of a bitch when it came to his own well-being, the memory of that day in your workshop just a cherry of top of all the insane things he was willing to do for others, for what he believed to be greater good.

Now, your roles might be reversed, but Steve still looked a little worn; and still handsome, almost frustratingly so, almost enough to distract you from a more crucial question than whether his slightly pursed lips were as soft as you’d always imagined.

What the hell were you doing in the medical?

You’d put your life savings in on a bet it had everything to do with the pressure on your chest and Tony’s face lightly twisted in worry and outrage.

Which, ouch. Tony actually looked worried. That had to be bad.

You opened your mouth to ask when the memories started floating in, along with the realization that your throat was a bit parched.

Without a word or another hint of a request, Steve brought a cup of water to your lips along with a straw, making you realize you were not, in fact, quite lying down horizontally; the third of the bed closest to the headboard was elevated, thus helping you not to drown when drinking the pleasantly cool liquid.

While grateful for Steve’s assistance, you did not find courage to look at his expression and analyse it like those of the other men; because as the blur of memories creeped in, you were sure Steve would have a lot to say to you and not much of it would be pleasant.

Better to postpone that for as long as possible.

You had fucked up. Somehow, the encounter of the EMP wave and your own device had managed to knock you out. That was far from a cause for glowing reviews; though the uncertainty and the absence of the testing period had led you not to expect any in the first place. In fact, it was the very reason why you had insisted you would be the only one to handle the device.  

A solid plan; an uncertain outcome.

“How bad?” you rasped, unwillingly prompting Steve to push the straw back to your lips, even as he still didn’t say a word and sent your heart beating very painfully against your sternum. You resisted the urge to rub on the tender spot.

“You’ll be all fine and peachy,” Tony hummed, earning a mute glare from Steve that would freeze people in spot unless they were Tony Stark. The billionaire ignored it, in turn glaring at you, even if with a lick of pride in his gaze. “Your EMP killer – nice work on the shielding and reversing, by the way – short-circuited under the load of the energy that the EMP, stronger than the last time, emitted. You really went and picked the worst possible second to be still touching it—--ew, that actually sounds dirtier than I wanted for once-”

You gulped, an unvoluntary shiver running down your back as Tony, Tony I-do-whatever-I-want-and-can’t-be-bothered Stark, observed you with something grave in his eye that easily overshadowed the pride and the clear message in his words – that you had helped the team. Immensely. You had not only protected them from the hit, but managed to reverse it, giving Hydra a taste of their own bitter medicine.

And had apparently given the team a scare in the process.

It would track; depending on the voltage, the short-circuit could have burned you or knock you out, neither of those things pleasant. You just hoped it had been worth it.

“Okay. But… you got them, right?” you asked, the flicker of a smirk on Tony’s face as he responded confirming your guess.

“Oh yeah, we got them. Bastards didn’t know what hit them, stood there like idiots for solid five seconds. It was kinda hilarious, you know, you should have seen their faces, just priceless and-“

“Your heart stopped.”

----Tony’s voice fell deadly silent, the room stilling so completely no one even dared to take a breath, least of all you; air stuck in your throat, your lips slightly parting in mute shock.

Steve’s voice wasn’t loud, nor angry; it shouldn’t have interrupted Tony’s so easily. But the quiet authority and the gravity his words carried was enough to shut up even Tony Stark for once.

The room drowned in the sudden silence. The loudest sound was the tremble of your heart, beating fiercely as if in protest to Steve’s statement, echoing in your skull as well as by the heart monitor you were attached to.

Your heart had… stopped?

That was the third option, the third part of your body potentially affected by the electric discharge; your skin, your brain… and your heart.

It was racing now and you felt it in every inch of your body, humming with life, absurdly loud so; but as Steve’s gaze met yours, you sucked in a quick breath as the damning realization slowly sank in.

There was no world in which Steve would ever joke or exaggerated about that; the blue of his irises seemed more watery than usual, speaking of a weight on his shoulders heavier than he’d ever like to carry.

Your heart stopped, he had said, a simple three words that didn’t seem to make sense in a tangible reality, uncomprehensible beyond the coldest shiver of dread running down your spine. Simple, detached words, in a way; and yet, Steve’s eyes whispered of a message far from detached, quite the opposite. Intimate even – and perhaps a little accusatory too.

You died on me. You fucking died and I held you while you did so and that was all I could do.

You remembered as much. Vaguely, in a strange fog surrounded by gentle blue bleeding into indigo and eventually black – and you did remember with startling clarity the sensation of his palms cradling your cheek and of his arms carrying you when you knew your feet wouldn’t be able to. You remembered panic you’d wish to sooth had your lips been able to move. You remembered the heaviness on your chest, preventing you from breathing.

The weight on your chest grew tenfold under Steve’s intent gaze; and made a whole lot more sense now when one thought about what must have been done to you to set your heart back on track.

“It wasn’t for too long, kiddo,” Clint said quietly, drawing your attention to him, his expression warm with almost a fatherly worry – though that might have been the fact he had called you a kid. He could be sweet and caring and responsible like that when he wasn’t up to crazy shenanigans. “But you did give us quite the scare. Arrhythmia, turning so critical your heartbeat became almost undetectable… until it disappeared altogether. You got two discharges and a few chest compressions for your trouble. It was fast and you’re gonna be just fine, but…”

As he trailed off, you gulped, trying to process the information and failing. It simply seemed too surreal of a thought, encountering your death when you were right here now, alive.

But that was the thing about death, wasn’t it? It wasn’t quite you who had encountered your death, not in your conscious sound mind. The others had. Every single person here, having been scared out of their mind; for you.

The overwhelming and perhaps a little bizarre affection that bloomed in spite of the weight sitting on your sternum warmed your bones, spreading through your veins all the way to your fingertips along with the need to say literally anything to make the shadow of gloom on everyone’s faces disappear.

But your mind was coming out blank, your ears ringing a bit.

“Oh, uhm… well. I guess that explains why it hurts so much,” you muttered.

It earned you two sighs and one sharp intake of breath at your side. On the other side of the room, Bucky shifted his weight, bouncing off of the wall with surprising elegance, and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, no shit. Why don’t we give you guys a minute…”

A brief eye-contact with Steve, meaningful but unreadable; a small beckoning at Tony and Clint, each of the two patting the nearest part of your body in encouragement with a slightly uncomfortable yet supportive smile, and then they were on their way.

Leaving you alone with Steve, who now had his elbows propped up on his thighs, fingers interlaced together to rest his chin against them as he thoughtfully observed you without a single word.

To describe your reluctant staring contest as awkward would be a gross understatement and not quite capturing the complexity of the unreadable emotion behind his blue eyes.

It was instinct, you’d later realize, to have your gaze trail along the immensity of his body, checking for bandages and bruises and the little too much tension; with relief that felt a little funny considering the circumstance, you only found the third thing on the list. Steve body was so stiff and strung it had to be painful.

You fought the urge to reach for his hand, knowing a simple gesture like that usually grounded him.

Right now, Steve seemed torn between being a concerned friend and a raging captain, and you did not believe there was anything at all that really could ground him, let alone something in your power.

“Hey…” you breathed out eventually, swallowing heavily when the trivial greeting made him wince. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling with such effort as if he had to fight the same weight that was sitting on yours.

“I… no. I’m not. And no, not really.”

I’m the farthest thing from okay.

You gulped as the unspoken words, your lips twitching. “Did you get checked up by med-“

“Did you know?”

Your voice trailed off in an instant, just like Tony’s had earlier; the quiet intensity to Steve’s voice and the unnerving attention his eyes observed you with making a lump grow in your throat, no doubt in your mind about what he was asking about.

It seemed such an absurd question to ask and yet, you supposed it was a fair one; you just couldn’t quite grasp at the reality of Steve asking it.

“Did I know what?”

Steve didn’t avert your hesitant gaze for a second, his hands falling from his face to the space between his thigs, fingers still interlaced; only now you noticed just how tight he was holding one hand to the other, his knuckled having turned white, the vein running down his forearm bulging.

“Did you know what was gonna happen if you used the device? Because you told us it was too complicated for explanations and I trusted you--- and then it looked like you basically just went and pushed a button,” Steve said slowly, every word painfully articulated, the undertone of fire humming under the composed exterior of a Captain calmly berating those under his command, having seen right through their actions and their motivations.

God, he really was unbearably good at reading people, wasn’t he? Most of the time anyway. His gaze was so piercing you could feel it in your chest, how he practically ruminated through your very soul, no matter how feebly you tried to defend its secrets.

“So I’m asking again: did you know that this was a possibility and was that the reason why you refused to let any of us use that device?”

Did you know it might actually kill you, was the question then, not did you know you might get hurt or did you know the device could malfunction.

Well.

“No.”

Steve shook his head slightly, never releasing you from the now blazing blue of his eyes, a new emotion, harder than the others, flickering over his face, his jaw tensing further if that was even possible as he straightened in his chair and released the tight lock on his hands.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve come to despise me somehow even though I don’t know why, but don’t you dare lie to me about that-“

“I’m not,” you exclaimed firmly, straightening a bit as well as silent outrage at his accusation flushed energy into your veins. It made for a fiery cocktail with the conviction behind your very conscious decisions – unlike the one getting shocked into a damn cardiac arrest. “I didn’t know this was going to happen, Steve. All I knew was that it was an untested prototype. So I made the strategic decision to-“

All blood seemed to drain form his face only to return in a millisecond as he damn well stuttered, a outrage colouring his expression and oh, had he have done it by that-

“A strat-- it is not your place to make strategic decisions-“

“I took a calculated risk, Steve!” you cut him off, trying hard to ignore the way it literally hurt to have your heart beating against you apparently bruised ribcage. It was surprisingly easy thanks to how distracting the level of hypocrisy Steve was exercising at the moment. “What would your decision be? A weapon that could get out of hand – imagine that. If it works, it’s all dandy, isn’t it? But if it doesn’t, you’re screwed. And whether the device works or not, if it ends up hurting the person using it, because there was no time to test it properly, you’re short of one skilled fighter. I am not a skilled fighter, you said so yourself, so I knew I was the best person for the job and I stand by that and would damn well do it all over again, and you can fight me or quote me on that!”

Steve bristled.

His jaw set even tighter, now seemingly sharp enough to cut bulletproof glass – and damn had you not been in a middle of exchanging opinions, would it have distracted you – his hands curled into fists.

But for a moment, he remained silent; no doubt fighting an inner battle, because he knew you would call his bluff if he said he would have done things differently. He wouldn’t. He knew you were right and that you had done the best call possible, even without his explicit approval.

He shook his head, willing his fists to relax for a bit as he took time to inhale and exhale slowly.

“That was not supposed to be your decision. It wasn’t right. Not if this was the price to pay,” he said, continuing before you could interrupt him, his voice levelled carefully. It mollified you; a little. “We don’t trade lives, Lo, it is not your choice to-“

“But it is my choice, Steve,” you opposed, “my choice to protect my friends. And you know the rules. I never let anyone use an untested prototype in the field.”

He huffed bitterly and finally released you from the cage of his gaze, running his hand down his face and nodding along as he heard you state, not for the first time, your most basic rule.

Except his nod was not one of approval, nor quite one of understanding. It was more of a nod of infuriation and helplessness when dealing with a stubborn mule.

Well, there were two of those in this conversation.

“Except you were just fine breaking that rule yourself. And it nearly killed you.”

The shiver that ran down your spine shook you, the bite of fear as old as time ice-cold. It nearly killed you. A primal part of your brain understood that, even as you were still processing that – or rather kept postponing the processing in favour of staying sane.

But the worry, so clear and vulnerable as it revealed itself in the depth of Steve eyes, had your shoulders slump, the fire feeding your argument slowly dying out as you felt something tight in your chest loosen just a bit despite the weight still sitting there.

“I didn’t know that was gonna happen, Steve, I swear. That wasn’t a choice,” you offered, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But… you’re near death every day – you all are, you make the choice every damn day-”

“Lo, that’s not-“

“And you, Steve, made a very deliberate choice like that over seventy years ago and on a whole different scale,” you reminded him, only to have to silence him when he opened his mouth to protest. “I didn’t make a conscious choice like that, but even if I did… I’m sorry, but you of all people really wouldn’t get to hold that against me. Because you already have traded your life – and you continue to risk it, every day. And the rest of us, mere mortals? We worry, we hope and we watch, unable to do a single thing, and still, we just suck it up, because that’s what you do-“

“It’s not what YOU DO!”

You flinched at the sudden outburst and the sudden movement of the mass of muscle he was, pushing to his feet and stalking a few feet away, eyes turned to the ceiling, a hand slowly running over his mouth.

You had winced at both the boom of his voice and the movement; but most of all, at his words.

Because those hurt.

It was childish in a way, you supposed; but those words burned through you like a wildfire and left nothing but smouldering ashes behind, a sharp sting at the very centre of your chest.

A razer-sharp reminder of who you were.

And who you weren’t.

Because who you weren’t, despite all you could ever do, was someone good enough.

You could feel Steve’s gaze turning back to you, no doubt drawn by the minute wince when he had noticed when he had snapped; but you refused to look at him. It hurt; and you refused to let him see just how much.

“Lo, I-“

You shook your head, a small gesture of your hand to stop him, pressing your lips in a tight line; and not at all willing to admit it was just so you wouldn’t find words to hurt him back – or to keep the stupid irrational sob in.

You got it. You really did. You had said as much to Sam; but that didn’t mean you were over it in the span of very long, very hard two days.

Steve was right, of course.

He had been right when he had said you didn’t get to make strategic decisions, and you were not able to defend yourself and that you simply weren’t an agent in the first place. Which would have been fine – because you did not want to be an agent.

You just wanted to be something more to Steve.

You used to think that maybe one day what you were – because Sam had also been right, you were irreplaceable as you were and you were pretty damn awesome, you knew that on a good day – could be enough for Steve.

But you wouldn’t. You weren’t. Never had been.

It was clear as day and violent as daylight after staying awake all night.

You licked your lips as you stared at the covers draped over your legs, trying your damn best to keep your voice calm and composed even as your nose stung with unshed tears.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Lo…”

“Was there anything else you needed, Captain?”

The sound pushing past his lips was guttural and painful, making your stomach clench. You squeezed your eyes shut.

It served him right. It served him right, because if you didn’t get to be close to him, he might as well get the hell out of your sight and out of your life. Just because you would never be a partner to him, he didn’t get to shove it to your face and make it hurt, to twist the knife in the still gaping wound. That was not fair of him. He couldn’t have it both ways.

Not even Steve damn Rogers, no matter how much your stupid heart ached for his love.

You hated how clearly you could see him even with your eyes closed; you heard his steps, could imagine the stiffness and rashness of his movements, the way he plumped back into the chair by your bed, the way he was leaning his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward.

His voice closer, a slight crack to it, a visceral note that made you nauseous just a bit with the vulnerability it displayed.

“Don’t… please don’t do this to me.”

It was almost enough. It was almost enough to make you fold and open your eyes and sooth him, but you couldn’t. Not now. You weren’t sure you ever should, if you were planning to stay sane and move on.

You gulped against the lump in your throat, but you persisted, repeating yourself.

“Was there anything else you-“

“Yeah, okay—alright,” he whispered, a rustle of fabric as he moved in his chair; but that was not the most prominent sound. That would be the resignation and barely masked hurt in his voice. “I deserve that. I do. Should I send for Sam?”

The unexpected question made you heart skip a beat and your eyes snap open despite your better judgement. A pair of eyes brimming with bright sadness stared back, an openly desperate yet achingly empty expression on Steve’s face; once more, your hands twitched with the instinctual need to comfort him.

No. Not now.

And he had asked you a question; that was why you had looked at him in the first place. The reminder had your heart skip another two very painful beats – probably literally, because Steve’s eyes flickered to the heart monitor by your bed with a frown.

“…why would you send for Sam? Where is he? Is he okay?” you demanded, mind scrambling for any memory of him being hit during the mission prior to your… intervention.

“No, he’s fine, he’s… he had a small cut on his arm and a few bruises, but he’s okay,” Steve reassured you, quick to do so, even if somewhat dully. “He said he needed to--- to take care of something.”

You breathed in and out, the ache in your ribcage easing except it did not. “Good.”

Steve looked as if he was the one in profound pain. And you broke.

You always broke when it came to him – that was your curse, even as you used to think that in a way, it was a blessing.

Where did that get you?

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, an idea occurring to you as to why he could be in pain even as he wasn’t – as unlikely it was that he would have been sitting by your bedside had it been any truth to it. “Is… Sharon okay?”

Steve’s smile might light up a room, you had often seen it happen; but the one he gave you now was just sad at its edges and did not reach his eyes, boring into yours again – intensely so, but without the previous pressure.

“We’re all just fine, Lo.”

“Good.”

Your voice was barely audible and yet it felt too loud in the sudden calm after the storm, a calm brushing over the rubble it had left behind; heavy stones you didn’t think you had the strength to move now, to build back up, the base of what you and Steve were – or used to be to each other – seemingly too shaky.

You weren’t sure you could ever rebuild it or whether you even should. Some things were better to left behind in order for something new to bloom; and yet, the idea of cutting Steve out of your life left like a hot wire splitting your heart in two.

And yet, Steve lifted the first stone, not to throw it because he was without sin; but to lay it gently into your hand so you could choose whether to throw it at him or choose to start with the restoration.

And like always, you couldn’t refuse an offer like that.

“I… I’m really sorry I yelled at you.”

“I get it, Steve, you were mad and I scared you-“

“That still didn’t give me the right,” he opposed quietly, lips slightly pursed, the sincerity of his regret breaking through the sadness still etched into his expression.

It hadn’t given him the right indeed – but he was only human.

And the volume of his voice wasn’t the problem, nor was him having startled you. You weren’t scared of him.

You were just scared of just how much he could make you feel and hurt and how little you were able to will yourself to do anything to take that power away from him.

“You barely even raised your voice, Steve-“

“And I’m still sorry,” he repeated in earnest. “I shouldn’t have. Yes, what you did, what happened to you--- it scared me, but that’s not an excuse. It definitely isn’t an excuse to blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind and hurt you.”

You gulped, your hand gripping the sheets.

Of course he had noticed the effect of his words. He wasn’t an idiot; most of the time anyway. And when he was an idiot, he was the kindest and the sincerest one. That was why you could never quite just make yourself not to love him.

God, he truly must have been the most infuriating person on the planet-

“I never want to hurt you, Lo. I’m sorry for that and for putting another thing between us even though I’m not sure what happened between us in the first place. I just…” he gulped, the deep, sad pools of blue searching your face you were sure had crumbled at his goddamn I never want to hurt you and the softness lacing your nickname. Your chest deflated a little and it hurt, physically and figuratively, Steve’s regrets about the distance that had been growing between you for weeks now tangible. “I’m sorry we’re this way. But… if I can’t be here for you, if don’t talk to me… fine—well, not fine, but--- what I’m trying to say is that whatever reason you have to hate me, fine, for now. But I know something’s been bothering you and now you nearly died, so you’d better talk to someone-“

“Why was your first thought Sam of all people?”

You couldn’t but notice a flash of hurt when you didn’t deny you hated him for the second time but you’d unpack that later – your heart was already brimming with something sweet and burning and aching.

“He… when you wouldn’t talk to me before, you… you clearly confided him in. You’re… it’s none of my business really, you two, you seem… close, so I thought-“

A sheen of ice-cold sweat covered your skin and had you shiver, your heart stumbling very painfully in your chest, the solid mattress under your body as if disappearing, replaced by a gaping void to which you stared despite the sudden vertigo.

“Hold on, did he--- tell you we talked or something?”

Did he tell you I’m fucking in love with you and jealous as hell?

Steve looked away.

“Steve?” you pressed.

“No. I… you’ve been avoiding me-“

“Oh, that’s rich-“

“And I know I haven’t exactly had a clear schedule, but it’s obvious still!” Steve interrupted your outrage with his own, even as his had earned an edge of an emotion you could not quite place. “And I tried to give you space--- but I also knew that mission where Nat got hurt would get to you too, but I had to leave and then, when I was back, you… you were already talking to Sam and—”

You watched Steve breathe in an out with growing confusion – but also with relief maddeningly mixed with disappointment.

Relief because he did not know. Disappointment for the very same reason.

Only now when you had a painful physical symptom, it dawned to you just how hard it had been to breathe around Steve due to both hope and anxiety.

“He’s a good guy, Lo. I’m… glad you have him, you deserve nothing less.”

An involuntary smile passed your lips, one that – for some reason – had Steve avert your gaze, the corners of his lips turned down just slightly, as if in a sad smile to mirror your own.

…why?

Your confusion was growing by the minute – and so was the heaviness in your limbs, but now was not the time to get tired.

“Yes, that we can agree on- Sam’s is a wonderful frie—wait hat do you mean have him? It’s not like he’s mine, we’re both friends with--- oh.”

The flicker of something on Steve’s face was a dead giveaway as to what he had meant, your brain short-circuiting for a few silent beats.

And you couldn’t but chuckle at the absurd conclusion he had come too, the sound leaving your lips unwittingly even as laughing hurt.

But… Steve thought you and Sam were dating?

Forget your heart having stopped – this was the most difficult revelation of the day to process.

Judging by the utter confusion and reluctant relief on Steve’s face, he seemed to think the very thing about your reaction.

“Sam? No. No, Steve, come on, I love Sam, but he’s like a brother to me--- not to mention he’s been gathering courage to ask Jess out for months and it’s been like a week since he did and he’s already a goner. When you said he said he needed to take care of something, he probably meant calling Jess, telling her he’s safe and sound.”

Steve’s lips parted soundlessly, a beat of silence, realization dawning on his face. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you echoed, his face so endearingly scrunched as he chewed on that thought that you couldn’t but chuckle and have mercy on him; how could you be mad at him for just about anything when he had apologized, was concerned for the state of your relationship and looked like that? How could you ever hope to keep him at arm’s length or further just to protect your foolish heart?

You sighed, a seal inside you breaking, your shoulders slumping lower.

“Look, Steve I… as for what’s been bothering me… I told you. I’m just… going through some stuff-“

Like a flash of lightning, Steve’s contemplative expression disappeared, replaced by urgency as he leaned forward again, desperate sincerity lacing his features.

“So why don’t you let me help? What did I do? Why are you avoiding me--- and don’t tell me you aren’t, please, don’t insult me like that-“

“Steve, I just-“ you interrupted him, his gaze hanging on your face like a lifeline, the gears in your head turning madly as to figure out how to tell him the truth without telling him everything. “I just… need some time to come to terms with certain things. With… myself.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, panic glimmering in his eyes for a moment.

“Are you sick?”

You frowned, confused by the question.

“…no?”

Not beyond having had a small cardiac arrest.

“Are you leaving the AI then? Is someone bothering you, giving you a hard time? We can take care of that, I’ll gladly take care of that personally—or-- look, if it’s about the money or the workshop or-“

“Steve, no-“

“Then what?” he breathed out, barely audible, but no less helpless and so unfairly gentle you felt tears sting in your eyes. “Tell me. I’ll try my best to make it better--- we all will. But please stop pushing me away unless you really do hate-”

“I don’t hate you, Jesus, Steve, I---”

The sheer visible relief at hearing that truly spoke of just how badly he had been affected by your mess of feelings and separation. Guilt instantly gnawed at your stomach.

Between all the wallowing about how Steve didn’t feel the same about you, you appeared to have forgotten about how deeply the beautiful man in front of you felt; how deeply he cared.

Of course he had been worried. Of course it had bothered him, no matter how much you tried to lie to yourself that he hadn’t to ease your ache.

His genuine relief was a vicious reminder from the universe of how deeply Steve loved his friends. It made your stomach twist and fill with butterflies all the same. Of course you only loved him for it all the more.

It was another pure viciousness of the universe to give humanity only one Steve Rogers. It was unfair that the one who existed could not be yours.

It was unfair and lovely that he continued to watch you expectantly; he was not going to let the topic go. Obviously. What a surprise, not, to see him stubborn.

You sighed again, licking your lips, unable to hold the weight of his gaze as you tried to look for the right words, fingers toying with the sheets.

“I just… I got too used to being—the girl,” you said.

You could practically hear his frown at that and huffed self-deprecatingly. “God, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. What I mean is… the team relied on me, you know? You relied on me, you spent a lot of time with me and… then Sharon showed up, replacing me, rightfully so, and I--- this is my shit to deal with. I know that. It’s just… my stupid feelings, my stupid jealousy. That’s what I’m dealing with and have to deal with on my own… because for a huge part, I’m… ashamed of it.”

“Lo-“

“Wait, I- let me finish please, or I’ll never get it out and I never want to talk about this again, so…. I got used to being your girl--- not your girl!” you swiftly corrected yourself, mortified at the slip-up. “I mean…your girl, and I know it sounds the same but it’s not really--- and I get it. Rationally, I get it, Steve, I really do and I want you to be happy.”

Finally, you found the courage to meet his gaze, vision blurry as you smiled, even if through your tears – because this part you weren’t ashamed of and was achingly certain of.

Chuckling breathlessly, you caught the stray tear that escaped your eye.

“Because, Steve, you deserve to be so happy. For who you are, for what you’ve been through and stand for and Sharon is perfect. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s badass, she’s a Carter, you’re clearly meant to be together and that’s great, so great, but I--- I have feelings too and I just… as happy as I am for you, I just need to digest the fact that I’m not the only female human in your life besides Nat and that romantic partners often come before friends and in a way they should-“

The hand suddenly enveloping yours made your voice crack and fall silent – at least that was what you told yourself. That it was the warm weight of Steve’s touch you craved every damn day, not your heart breaking at wishing Steve well with someone who was not you.

“Hold on-”

“I get it, I just… I just need some space and some time, okay?” you rasped, forcing another smile. You wanted to turn your hand to squeeze his hand reassuringly for a good measure; but he didn’t let you.

As your gaze flickered to your joined hands and back to his face, vision clearing, you were startled by two things. Three. No, make that four.

One, those handsome features of his, because goddammit, did it somehow still took you by surprise just how beautiful Steve was.

Two, his expression – caught somewhere between experiencing shell-shock and visceral need to do something.

Three, his eyes, having turned glassy.

And four and foremost, how everything about him – despite the urgency in his stance, leaning into your space so close your faces were a mere foot from each other – suddenly seemed impossibly tender.

“Whatever you need, Lo…” Steve muttered, his hand flexing over yours and gripping – gently, but very firmly. “But no. I… I truly am sorry. I never meant to neglect you because of this mission, let alone so much you’d feel like this. It… I sometimes get my head lost in the game and I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have-“

“And yes,” he cut you off, holding your gaze seriously, “Sharon’s great and she’s been around a lot since we’re cooperating on this one, but… I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t needed or wanted, or god forbid, like you are somehow less than her. You are important to the team, you are our girl, you’re… as a person, as a team member, your inventions, your input – they’re crucial and I’ll never stop marvelling at what you can come up with. …even if it nearly kills you and me in the process--- Lo, I swear, when Friday reported the arrhythmia and then your heart stopped, I nearly had a heart attack and you’d better, in fact, never do that again-”

The broken rasp of his voice was like an ice-cold fist of guilt clutching at your heart and pulling, gently replaced by warm fondness, a few more tears spilling over when you spotted one of his own rolling down his cheek. You could not find your own voice, noting with slight embarrassment that your lower lip was a second from wobbling at the assault of emotion radiating off Steve.

And then his left hand slipped under your hand – now held between both of his – as he took a deep breath, chasing the clouds away, a soft frown twisting his face.

“But I have to ask… what on Earth makes you think me and Sharon are together or that I’m even interested in her as anything else than a fellow agent and a friend?”

You froze mid-inhale, air painfully catching in your bruised chest.

Your mind turned blank in an instant – a complete tabula rasa besides the essential script of your damn heart belonging to the man sitting by your bed, to the gentle giant cradling your hand between both of his, observing you with curiosity and what looked like a silent wonder.

You were wondering too.

You were confused as hell, your whole world tilting aside, your tongue feeling heavy and all kinds of funny as you tried to form words. 

“You’re… not?”

“No. …no-“

Admittedly, you were rather unimpressed at the strange expression on his face and his resolute tone, contrasting sharply with how many compliments to Sharon he had just agreed with – but that was the least of your worries.

“I mean…” Steve said, hesitating slightly, “you’re right. Objectively, she’s all you said, but even if I was interested in her, the fact that she is a Carter and I was once in love with her grandaunt would make it rather awkward.”

“Oh.”

That was all you managed to choke out: an oh.

What an eloquent intelligent human being you were.

But in all honesty, your mind was blanking out on all words in English and any other language beyond what the hell and Steve is not interested in Sharon.

What he had said made sense, in a way. You supposed.

It had just never occurred to you.

But it had never also occurred to you just how wrong you could interpret Steve’s behaviour.

This whole time, ever since Sharon perfect Carter had walked in, you had been heartbrokenly sure Steve must have fallen for her. But he claimed that he hadn’t.

It would be great news if it didn’t boggle your mind and if the fact he wasn’t into her automatically meant he could ever be into you. And if all that time you had spent away, avoiding him and a broken heart at seeing him with Sharon in the process… hadn’t been for nothing and hadn’t hurt you both. Steve was clearly bothered that he hadn’t had time for you, for his close friend, and that whole time, he had known for a fact that you had been avoiding him--

God you were such an idiot.

And sure, Steve probably wouldn’t have been able to throw the first stone, not without some blame himself, but—

How could you have misjudged the situation so catastrophically…? How?

Jealousy.

Hurt.

Love.

All easy answers and complicated emotions that had blinded you.

For a rather rational person you liked to think you were, the man sitting with you still, holding your hand gently and firmly, still, sure stoked the fire of feelings so deep within you there had been no escaping that emotional bias.

It would have been wonderful had your feelings been reciprocated and had not Steve been observing you intently, eyes flickering all over your face and drinking in every detail of your face and taking a good, long look into your eyes, staring into your very soul in all its nakedness.

You reciprocated his gaze but for a few seconds until you could not bear it anymore, your heart, while trembling at his attention, speeding up with its every beat, your panic rising, because it was true what Sam had said about Steve.

He might be slow and blind when it came to certain things, but he was one damn brilliant man and you knew it.

And right now, it felt like certain puzzle pieces in his mind were falling into place and-

“You know,” Steve whispered, “Bucky told me I’m dumb like a ton of bricks if I don’t know what’s going on with you, but he wouldn’t tell me, the jerk. I… I think I’m starting to understand why.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, finding his gaze impossibly soft and you gulped, goosebumps rising all over your skin in anticipation.

You weren’t ready. You were not ready at all – to face his judgement. With your confession about jealousy and other feelings you had, with his own brilliance, he must have known now, and he was about to let you down gently, because ‘I never want to hurt you, Lo’ was something he had meant wholeheartedly.

Steve squeezed your hand, taking a deep breath – and in turn, you held your own.

“I’m going to go on a limp here, Lo, but… having established that you’re always gonna be our girl… would you… do you ever think about being my girl?” he asked softly.

Your heart skipped a beat – very, very painfully so, so much you winced and sucked in a startled breath before your body rebooted and your heart started racing again.

And your mind followed.

Your vision blurred a bit, your mouth turning dry.

He--- did he just-

Forget your heart having stopped, forget Steve having thought you were dating or about to date Sam; you had spoken too soon. This was the most definitely going to be the most difficult revelation of the day to process.

Because it--- did Steve just asked you out? Was that what he meant?

Well, you supposed that with how loosely you had used the term ‘your girl’, maybe he had-

“When… when you say your girl, you mean-“

One corner of his lips twitched, whether from nerves or a smile you couldn’t tell. His hold on your hand loosened slightly, his thumb running over the back of your hand, the gesture combined with… everything, making for a choked startled sound in the back of your throat, awaking a sparkle in Steve’s eye, his lips curling up further.

“My best girl.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s not entirely clear wording-“

“The dame I’d like to take on a date, sweep her off her feet and after she forgives me for acting like an ass, kiss her breathless if she lets me,” he stated in all seriousness.

You swallowed another startled sound, your head suddenly spinning.

Okay, that’s… that’s clearer.

And wonderful.

So, so wonderfully incredible.

You blinked, your brain somehow still processing what your heart instantly understood – and recognized as true.

Steve said was not interested in Sharon.

Steve was clearly interested in you.

Steve cared about you very deeply.

There might even be a slight chance that Steve was – just the tinniest bit at least – in love with you.

There was also a fair chance Steve had actually been jealous of Sam – perhaps the same way you had been of Sharon.

And there was a hundred percent chance you were both utter idiots.

And Steve would like to sweep you off your feet and kiss you breathless.

While he continued to regard with softly, he was also clearly expecting an answer the lack of thereof let uncertainty into his gaze, growing by the second.

You could not have that, because then he might take his words back, taking your silence for rejection; and meanwhile both of his suggestions made you speechless in the best way and gave birth to a fluttery feeling in your stomach, something warm, oh so endlessly warm, spreading in your achy ribcage.

“I’d… really like that,” you breathed out weakly, only now realizing you might have been holding your breath. How could you not? If anything, you were practising for Steve stealing all air from your lungs if he’d kiss you, those soft, undoubtedly soft lips--- your licked yours, your heart stumbling a bit as Steve’s gaze automatically flickered down to your mouth. “That, uhm… that’d be nice.”

Especially the kissing part.

Steve’s eyes snapped back up, relief mixing with amusement.

“Nice?”

Heat flooded your face, indignation, shame and affection all at once.

“Oh go to hell, Steve, my heart had like three hundred joules running through it today and I just learned that you’d like to kiss me which I really approve of, so I don’t have the mental capacity to be Shakespeare right now-“

As you automatically tried to jerk your hand free – despite his teasing being gentle – his hold on you turned into a tender vice, his features twisting with concern.

“Oh I know, doll, no need to remind me,” he muttered, sighing deeply, your mind instantly latching onto the new endearment, your face flushing further. With another sigh, Steve turned your hand to rest in his palm, his left index carefully following your lifeline “That’s one more vivid nightmare to haunt me. I… probably shouldn’t have sprung all that on you, as happy as I am that you said yes. It’s a date, though.”

A sweet, boyish smile passed his lips.

“But I should let you rest. You had a very long day.”

And wasn’t that the understatement of the goddamn year. You felt exhaustion settling into your bones despite joy still humming in your veins; you were not quite ready to let Steve go. Not now. Not ever.

After the briefest thought of telling him that perhaps the long day had earned you a goodnight kiss then, you covered his hand still drawing on your palm with yours, stilling his movements.

“So did you,” you pointed out, earning a noncommittal sound of agreement. “And uhm… sometimes we deal with a long day together, right? I miss that.”

He lifted his gaze, his smile, while not quite lighting up his face, warm like the sunshine itself and you couldn’t reciprocate, your heart finally free to thumb-thumb wildly in your chest in a rhythm of a lovesong you had been trying to silence for quite the while.

“Yeah, me too. I missed you, Lo.”

“I missed you too… plus, you just asked me out on a date, it would be rude to just leave.”

“That is true,” he said, a sparkle in his eye at last. “But I do think you should get some sleep. I’ll be here if you want me… fending off your nightmares at least.”

God knows I have enough nightmares for a lifetime, you read in his gaze. And one of them is losing you to something much worse than rejection and carrying another regret greater than life for the rest of my days.

You hummed, eyes stinging at the vulnerability of the words that might have not be pushed past his lips, but were written in his warm, sad smile.

“I’d like that, Steve… stay with me?”

He smiled a little wider, scooting his chair closer, one of his hands escaping the complicated tangle by your side in favour of pressing carefully to your shoulder to lie down into the cushions fully, brushing over your jaw lightly, tender fingers continuing up to smoothen your hair.

Despite how heavy your body was feeling by the minute – had been for a while – your heartbeat picked up at the sweet gesture, Steve’s eyes on you intently as if to look for any sign of discomfort, pain, or protest.

He found none.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lo…” he promised, squeezing your hand, fingers wavering by your cheek before he moved to cradle your jaw, leaning in. “But you should know that neither are you. I don’t care how many gadgets you and Tony come up with, how much protective gear you can get – I’m never letting you in the field again.”

“Hey-“

Before you indignation could flare up at his very bossy decision or the fact he just had to bring it up now, the little shit, the fire was put out, replaced by warmth spreading from where Steve’s lips brushed your forehead in a tender kiss, all the way to your fingertips and toes.

“But that’s a problem for another day… rest, Lo. I’ll be right here.”

Your mouth opened, any retort or protest overruled by your body literally melting under his affection.

“You’re playing dirty…” you muttered, no power behind your words. “Please continue.”

Steve’s breath tickled your hairline as he chuckled and kissed your forehead again, your eyes slipping shut, an unvoluntary but welcomed smile spreading on your lips, softening when Steve’s fingertips caressed along your jaw.

You could fall asleep to such tenderness. Every night. Especially after having quite a long day.

“Rest so I can woo you as soon as possible, Lo,” Steve whispered, kissing you one more time, this time on your cheek, before retreating back to his chair. Both his hands took one of yours again, keeping it warm, safe and his.

Just like you.

“That’s an order I can get behind, ‘ptain… Thank ya’ for being here.”

“Trust me… there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And he meant it; every word. Of that you were sure of, even as you mind welcomed the soft darkness of a peaceful sleep, watched over by the fiercest, kindest protector you’d ever know.

As sleep led you away from him, Steve took several steadying breaths, letting the emotions of the indeed long day wash over him, closing is eyes just for a moment, wincing at the first image appearing in his mind being your terrifyingly still form.

He had not spoken a single lie to you, having been scared out of his mind – he had only kept certain truths from you. Like the truth that kept tugging at the corners of his lips up despite you being in a hospital bed.

He loved you.

And he was going to sweep you off your feet over and over to prove it, to let you feel just how much light was expanding in his chest whenever he could see you, talk to you, hold you; and feel that you cared about him too, more than he had ever hoped.

When he opened his eyes, it was almost as if you could hear his thoughts; while in the dreamland, bruised and exhausted beyond life, there was a small relaxed smile in your lips, one that drew Steve’s gaze like a magnet.

That was how Sam found him; that was what greeted Steve too. A telling, dopey grin on both of their faces.

Sam might have said Steve was far from blind and was quite brilliant, but the man himself was right up there with him, instantly understanding something had changed between you and Steve. When Steve asked him about a certain Jessica, Sam’s grin only widened; and Steve only wondered how he had missed it all before.

Love truly could be blind, couldn’t it? You would know, too; how you had never realized how he had felt for you was beyond him.

But the important thing was that he’d show you, now; and you agreed to let him.

As if Sam could hear his thoughts, he patted Steve’s shoulder, not staying longer than was necessary to learn how you were doing and to tell Steve to tell you he stopped by.

As he left, Sam took Steve’s gloomy thoughts of the day with him, leaving only contentment settling deep into Steve’s ribcage. As he still held onto you, he allowed to the sound of your regular breathing be a balm to his soul, the feeling on your hand in his be a balm for his heart.

Next chapter (Epilogue) // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading, loves! Thoughts, encouragements and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

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Hello dear readers! I wanted to get to this chapter much sooner, but life has been happening and muse was protesting against the length of this… so it might have taken a while, but you got a double-length serving AND feels... yay!?🥰

With this chapter, I’m also crossing the 2 mil. word count on AO3. Might have been sooner with the blurbs I posted here on tumblr, but that is not the point… I just want to thank you if you’ve been here with me for some of those words and supported my writing. Thank you 💕

May your days be filled with love 💕

[mikuni14]

I've already written about how last Twilight pissed me off, but there's something else that annoys me - it's the way Mhok feel expendable for Day and his family. You see, I remembered a certain video I've seen somewhere and scene from the series, after watching the last episode of Last Twilight.

In the first video, a guy says that women should fix their men, stick with them when they can't cope with their traumas, and generally that they should be their "therapists, coaches" and not leave men alone with their problems. Supposedly a "positive" video, right? And under his video there were a lot of women's comments who wrote that they did exactly that, that they "improved and fixed" the men who, when they decided that they were already "fixed", they broke up these women and started new relationships as the "new, improved men". There were a lot of these voices.

The second was a scene from some series (with my memory of a goldfish, I can't remember which one, maybe Elite?), where a poor boy gets involved in the bunch of rich people and someone warns him that nothing good will come of it, to not trust them, that the rich people will take advantage of him and they will throw him away when they no longer need him or get bored with him.

And I really thought about it immediately after watching the finale of the last episode of Last Twilight and the trailer of the next one. Because that's literally what happened: Mhok "fixed" rich boy Day and got fired. I still have an image of Mhok in my head, with a blindfold trying to understand Day. I remember Mhok taking care of Day, all his small but important gestures, when he protects him from bumping into things and tripping. Mhok fixed all of Day's broken relationships. ALL OF THEM. He has done so much for Day that I don't even know where to start, the whole series is about Mhok doing everything for Day. THE WHOLE SERIES IS ABOUT THIS. About slippers, running shoes, quitting smoking, trips, various activities, literally climbing mountains for him. And the series showed Day and his wealthy family literally getting rid of Mhok under a really stupid pretext, when Day is already set for the future, for success - thanks to him. Nobody says stop, wait a minute, it's too harsh, let's talk, let's give Mhok a chance to explain himself (and Mhok WANTS to explain himself). But when he tries to talk about HIMSELF for once, his problems and traumas, he is simply thrown out the door. Everything Mhok has done for Day, for this family, all his sacrifices are completely ignored and dismissed. He's not worthy of their time to expalin, to talk. Not worthy to give a fucking chance which he deserves simply for what he's done for them.

What further irritates me is that Mhok is constantly perceived by them as someone who is FOR DAY. Day's mother tests him, checks him, evaluates him only in terms of whether Mhok is taking care of Day properly. Day kicks Mhok out for what he considers to be the wrong kind of care Mhok provides for him. Mhok does not exist as Mhok. Mhok exists as Day's carer, boyfriend, and must live up to the high expectations of Day and his family, with no room for the slightest mistake. And being thrown out the door for not meeting this super high standard that he was not even aware of! And I can't help but feel that he is treated this way because he is not someone important, rich, who could be treated this way WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES.

Last Twilight showed that people warning other people about the "savior complex" and about being "dispensable" to the rich are true lol

No matter how I look at it, no matter how many times I think about it, I really don't want Mhok to go back to Day. Mhok deserves someone who will give him back exactly what he gives, an equal relationship, unconditional love and support, he deserves a relationship with an adult, with ability to regulate and handle their emotions (like Phojai). He deserves, above all, respect.

I know trailers can be misleading, but it bothers me how Day and his family are shown in bright colors, laughing, while Mhok is shown in subdued colors, without a smile. And the fact that Day goes down the escalator without a cane. Can he see??

[thefoxsocks]

hihi, i saw someone say they wanted to see more awakening stories here so i thought id share mine. ik i only just officially made this blog and started calling myself a therian, but ive felt like this my whole life and if i wait my memory will fade and i wont be able to share as well

as i said ive felt like i wasnt human my whole life, i just never knew there was a name for it. id heard of therians but i had never looked into therianthropy so i had no idea that it perfectly epxlained my exact feelings

over the past few years ive been really leaning into the non-humanness. without knowing the name, i was identifying myself as partially nonhuman to all of my friends through my gender

i’m nonbinary, and the way ive always expalined that for me was that i didnt feel human or connected to human genders, so i wasnt a guy or a girl i was just there.

a few weeks ago i started seeing a lot of therian content here on tumblr, on tiktok, and id even seen mentions of it in a few of my discord servers. i took that as a sign to look into and i immediately felt at home. i already knew what my theriotypes were because, as ive said, ive felt this way forever. i used to call it pet regression, though i never felt connected to that term.

im a fox therian, a wolfdog therian, possibly a border collie therian but idk, and a cat therian.

ive felt so safe over the past 2 days lol. i set up the crate ive wanted to use for years, made some dog treats, very briefly tried quads (i want to leanr more but i have to be very careful and move slowly at first otherwise i really risk hurting my hips and shoulder more). i feel more myself with this label than i have with nesrly any other

[patheticcpeach]

you see me. i see you. im so scared for us. for me.

i fear we are going down a slippery slope. i can't help myself. i keep thinking of you. everything we did that night and how we talk about it. i cant expalin the feeling i get when i see you. feels like relief to be seen. you see me. the real me. me that is sensitive and serious and wants love. me that is kind and patient and has self control. you make me feel comfortable about my deep fears. i don't feel judge by you. feel will. scary.

today you told me about a song that makes you feel something. its called "tell me this is a dream". told me how the first 8 secs, are just bliss yet so depressing. I don’t even think you know how much that resonates with me. I have a few songs that do the same. I know it sounds weird, but it’s actually nice to know that I’m not the only person who has a song that can just make them feel so much. I want to know what that song is for you. What about it makes you feel emotional? Is it personal to you, or is there something about the lyrics or the melody that hits you hard? I hope you don’t mind me asking so many questions. I’m just curious. yet you tell me. trust me. look me in the eyes.

then you asked me , how did i get into music? my dad was the one. ever since i remember, he played music so loud and dedicated so many songs to me. but in retrospeck, the agruing happening, him being intoxicated, him not caring about our health and needs. putting himself first. those memories filled with music.

once those words left my mouth, i felt it. actually being seen. me. my memories. i dont suffer from short term memory loss. i don't have a bad memory, i remember everything. you just asked me. me. its been so long i felt release.

i can't stop thinking of you.

this is headed toward disater.

im scared for us.

[teeto-peteto]

Another question, if that’s not too much to ask: Who is your favourite character from each Runeterra region?

HOO thats a long one and i have the memory of the size of a pea so im opening Map of Runeterra for this one. Its never too much to ask just dont mind me not remembering all the people that cohexists in league of legends universe im sleepy and obsessed with THAT one character.

i'll try to give further explanation but in most cases is just for the aesthetic and not because of the lore so my apopopopologies <3

Freldjord: Braum!! Who doesnt love that big guy. Honestly, he's fun, he's cute, he's very talkative and passionate about the things he likes so he feels relatable at least for me. And he's kind to everyone! and kind to creatures! Probably one of my 'shirtless TM riot men that i actually like' list. He's just wholesome and warm.

Demacia: Ahhh uhhh ummmm yeah ahhh... demacia huh... ummm... (On my pc Morgana's little icon under Demacia's name is the old splashart pre rework i just think its fucking funny)

Poppy! I know she's a yordle and that i already said that i love them but overall demacian characters feel a bit dull to me (not all of them, but if you know, you know...). I just love her big ass hammer and her story, and how she's so convinced that she's not the hero but everyone around her clearly nows it. I love how she looks! And i love her pigtails... I also liked her old design, wich surprises a lot of people when i express it. Yes, she was sometimes uncannily creepy... but she had cool splasharts in the past, and i didnt mind her being ''ugly''. Fuck Riot's concept of beauty.

Noxus: Hhahahahahhahah im terrible but im a sucker for Kled. I love that guy i already expalined this on previous posts. Playing league is my way to cope with roughness in life and has been present through a lot of my trauma and i started playing Kled when i had some peaks of anger issues, the thrill of his gameplay made me de-stress a lot and i love his quotes. He is also very charming in quotes! He's funny, he's silly and he's old and theres something unspoken going on there, brain weasels. I love that guy and her screaming lizzard she's my baby. I love Skaarl and how she has her own personality that often crashes with Kled but she's nonetheless always loyal to him and restores her courage to save his ass. Queen.

Piltover: Hummm probably Orianna. I say probably cause im unaware if her lore has changed from 2014 to this day. I love the concept of a human girl with such a loving father that tried so badly to keep her alive as she was dying and loosing parts of herself and how he tried to keep her with him until she became just a beautifully but souless creation. Its a character i actually like having no quotes related to her lore, in the end Orianna is already very much gone, she's now but an empty metal shell that only commands the ball and speaks souless about human emotions she so used to understand when she was human. Fun fact i was a sucker for BlitzxOri ship and i still think its funny and cute.

Zaun: Twitch... he's a rat. There's nothing more about it. I would say Janna but she's technically Shuriman but either way i will briefly say that i enjoy her in Zaun, queen is giving fresh air slay pop off. Back to Twitch, i always liked him! He's silly, i have his punk skin and i adore how he looks, he's silly and stylish... I also got his shadowfeet skin cause he reminded me of my pet rat Kenny and i bought it to try and cope with his passing, i upgraded him maestry 7 on his honour. I dont know! He's cute in all of his skins not just the ones that intently try to make him cute, punk one is great, and i loooove how his head looks in Ice King skin... He's just lovely, and munches on cheese. And stinks. Its literally so me.

Targon: Soraka, probably. She's a goat unicorn lady! What else can i say? Im a sucker for most of her skins mostly the old ones. I love program Soraka, its one of my favourite skins of her, i think she's neat when i dont analize it... if i did i would set in on fire probably. I dont know her gameplay is cool and its one of the firsts supports i started playing. I used to heal the minions when you could do that back in the day. I remember my shock face first time i healed someone and realized my health bar went lower like 'OH sharing is caring!'. Unicorn lady mom.

Shurima: Renekton. Only because he's a crocodile and 'crocodile' is the word i pop up in my mind whenever i overthink to make my mind blank, and because i think crocodiles are cool. He's stubborn and resentful. Just like meeeeeeee

The Void: Kog Maw... he's silly designed and right now im VERY hungry im feeling very Kog Maw right now. I dont knoooow he's silly and i love his skins that do not portray him as cute too... I love skeleton kog maw he's amazing sack of bones. Point of all this is because i think he's cute, mostly. I want to hug him and he would puke on me and burn me in acid. cutely, though. he ate and left no crumbs.

Ixtal: FOR SOME REASON QIYANA'S ICON HAS YASUO'S ILLUSTRATION what. Uhhh i dont know why Milio isnt in the list of Ixtal champions... I think Riot's map machine broke. Anyway. Milio!!! He's a sweet kid, with a lot of preassure on his shoulders but he's so carefree and confident but not in a smug way but in a 'i have to do it for my omele' and he's so fucking adorable with his little fire dudes... I loved his lore and his short story he DRAWS pictures of his adventures and sends it to his family it makes me sob and punch the wall because he's such a sweet child he deserves the whole world. He's here to bring the good vibe on Ixtal. When i started playing him i didnt read his lore and he was talking so lightheartedly of his family that my poor ass knowing Riot i said 'Those bitches are definetly dead' WELL TURNS OUT NO and im so very happy cause if his family isnt okay i will kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Ionia: Uhhh can i get uhhhh ummm like... an interesting champion i have no problems with? /jk. Jhin :) he's iconic, so iconic riot decided to bamboozle all of us with 200 dollars chroma LOL. Okay but there was a lot of Jhin fever when he was released and the early years of his existance and those were probably the years i had the most fun on tumblr. He's memeable, but you can also take him seriously and think that the guy is fucking crazy and excentric. He paints his nails so... bonus points. His hourglass body type in project: Jhin was so INSANE it made everyone wild in this website. For once there was equality, briefly. His face reveal was kiiiind of a letdown, i expect him to be more fucked up but well i guess that what is behind a mask is another mask. In castilian dub his voice is very recognizable, he's actually the same voice actor that does Batman voice! wich is very cool, but he also does the ads of Carrefour wich is a supermarket and sometimes you can bug your own mind and imagine Jhin selling you a kilogram of tangerines, its so fun. Jhin also canonically shaves his balls wich is not a personal preference of mine nor does this add to the why i like him i just felt like i should say that Jhin canonically and confirmed by a rioter shaves his balls.

Shadow Isles: Maokai he's a FUCKING tree oh my god. I loved that little instance of Ruined King when we saw a younger maokai he looks so silly and curious... I loved his little paper on the game. Also i dont know how are they called in english... does riot call them 'saplings' to the little guys Maokai throws around and that are sitting on his hand? In Spain they are called 'pimpollos' wich is the name i call my followers on instagram, actually im going to start calling everyone my little pimpollos :)

Bandle City: Teemo... he's the first champ i've ever known. He's short, he's an explorer, i dont think he's twisted he's just smart and that scares humans for his yordle powers. But he can also be a little bit of a dummy, like in Dont mess with the yordles. He KEEPS a DIARY oh my GOD i want to read it and it also feeds my Tristmo ship cause i imagine him drawing Tristana and doodling silly stuff while she is watching her train or thinking about her... He also has wich is, for me at least, one of the bests legendary skins in the whole game being that Omega Squad. That one sent me FLYING when he was leaked and i had started playing already for 5-6 months or so. I begged my dad to buy it. I loved his old interactive page that also eventually leaked and got into official league page where you could click on different condecorations and trinkets and he would drop his quotes about other yordles and champions. That skin messed my brain scheme forever. and when they released Omega squad tristana... my ship level RISED... He's a baby, but he can bite you if he wants. I will protect him from people that says he's a trash champion.

Bilgewater: Do i even have to...?

what a babygirl he is.

[viswatech]

Memory

In computers, memory is the most essential component of the normal functioning of any system. The computer system categorizes the memory for different purposes and uses. In this section, we have discussed the classification of memory in detail. Also, we will discuss types of memory, features of memory, RAM, ROM, SRAM, DRAM, and its advantages and disadvantages.

What is computer memory?

Computer memory

is any physical device, used to store data, information or instruction temporarily or permanently. It is the collection of storage units that stores binary information in the form of bits. The memory block is split into a small number of components, called cells. Each cell has a unique address to store the data in memory, ranging from zero to memory size minus one. For example, if the size of computer memory is 64k words, the memory units have 64 * 1024 = 65536 locations or cells. The address of the memory's cells varies from 0 to 65535.

Why do we need a computer memory?

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In the computer system, we need computer memory to store various types of data like text, images, video, audio, documents, etc. We can retrieve it when the data is required. For example, when we write and execute any computer program, it is initially stored in primary memory. If the processor does not need particular items for a longer time, the program or data is automatically saved into the permanent or secondary memory. Then the data is called from secondary memory to main memory and performs the execution of codes.

Features of Memory

Following are the different features of the memory system that includes:

1.       Location: It represents the internal or external location of the memory in a computer. The internal memory is inbuilt in computer memory. It is also known as primary memory. the example of primary memory are registers, cache and main memory. Whereas, external memory is the separate storage device from the computer, such as disk, tape, USB pen drive.

2.       Capacity: It is the most important feature of computer memory. Storage capacity can vary in external and internal memory. External devices' storage capacity is measured in terms of bytes, whereas the internal memory is measured with bytes or words. The storage word length can vary in bits, such as 8, 16 or 32 bits.

3.       Access Methods: Memory can be accessed through four modes of memory.

   DMA: As the name specifies, Direct Memory Address (DMA) is a method that allows input/output (I/O) devices to access or retrieve data directly or from the main memory.

    Sequential Access Method: The sequential access method is used in a data storage device to read stored data sequentially from the computer memory. Whereas, the data received from random access memory (RAM) can be in any order.

    Random Access Method: It is a method used to randomly access data from memory. This method is the opposite of SAM. For example, to go from A to Z in random access, we can directly jump to any specified location. In the Sequential method, we have to follow all intervening from A to Z to reach at the particular memory location.

    Associative Access Method: It is a special type of memory that optimizes search performance through defined data to directly access the stored information based on a memory address.

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4.       Unit of transfer: As the name suggests, a unit of transfer measures the transfer rate of bits that can be read or write in or out of the memory devices. The transfer rate of data can be different in external and internal memory.

   Internal memory: The transfer rate of bits is mostly equal to the word                                           size.

    External memory: The transfer rate of bit or unit is not equal to the        word length. It is always greater than a word or may be referred to as blocks.

5.       Performance: The performance of memory is majorly divided into three parts.

    Access Time: In random access memory, it represents the total time taken by memory devices to perform a read or write operation that an address is sent to memory.

   Memory Cycle Time: Total time required to access memory block and additional required time before starting second access.

    Transfer rate: It describes the transfer rate of data used to transmit memory to or from an external or internal memory device. Bit transfer can be different for different external and internal devices.

6.       Physical types: It defines the physical type of memory used in a computer such as magnetic, semiconductor, magneto-optical and optical.

7.       Organization: It defines the physical structure of the bits used in memory.

8.       Physical characteristics: It specifies the physical behavior of the memory like volatile, non-volatile or non-erasable memory. Volatile memory is known as RAM, which requires power to retain stored information, and if any power loss has occurred, stored data will be lost. Non-volatile memory is a permanent storage memory that is used to obtain any stored information, even when the power is off. Non-erasable memory is a type of memory that cannot be erased after the manufactured like ROM because at the time of manufactured ROM are programmed.

Classification of Memory 

Primary or Main Memory

Primary memory is also known as the computer system's main memory that communicates directly within the CPU

, Auxiliary memory and the Cache memory. Main memory is used to kept programs or data when the processor is active to use them. When a program or data is activated to execute, the processor first loads instructions or programs from secondary memory into main memory, and then the processor starts execution. Accessing or executing of data from primary memory is faster because it has a cache or register memory that provides faster response, and it is located closer to the CPU

. The primary memory is volatile, which means the data in memory can be lost if it is not saved when a power failure occurs. It is costlier than secondary memory, and the main memory capacity is limited as compared to secondary memory.

The primary memory is further divided into two parts:

1.       RAM (Random Access Memory)

2.       ROM (Read Only Memory)

Random Access Memory (RAM)

Random Access Memory (RAM)

is one of the faster types of main memory accessed directly by the CPU. It is the hardware in a computer device to temporarily store data, programs or program results. It is used to read/write data in memory until the machine is working. It is volatile, which means if a power failure occurs or the computer is turned off, the information stored in RAM

will be lost. All data stored in computer memory can be read or accessed randomly at any time.

 There are two types of RAM:

SRAM

DRAM

DRAM: DRAM (Dynamic Random-Access Memory) is a type of RAM that is used for the dynamic storage of data in RAM. In DRAM, each cell carries one-bit information. The cell is made up of two parts: a capacitor and a transistor. The size of the capacitor and the transistor is so small, requiring millions of them to store on a single chip. Hence, a DRAM chip can hold more data than an SRAM chip of the same size. However, the capacitor needs to be continuously refreshed to retain information because DRAM is volatile. If the power is switched off, the data store in memory is lost.

Characteristics of DRAM

1.       It requires continuously refreshed to retain the data.

2.       It is slower than SRAM

3.       It holds a large amount of data

4.       It is the combination of capacitor and transistor

5.       It is less expensive as compared to SRAM

6.       Less power consumption

SRAM: SRMA (Static Random-Access Memory) is a type of RAM used to store static data in the memory. It means to store data in SRAM remains active as long as the computer system has a power supply. However, data is lost in SRAM when power failures have occurred.

Characteristics of Static Ram

1.       It does not require to refresh.

2.       It is faster than DRAM

3.       It is expensive.

4.       High power consumption

5.       Longer life

6.       Large size

7.       Uses as a cache memory

Advantages of RAM

It     is a faster type of memory in a computer.

It     requires less power to operate.

Program     loads much faster

More     RAM increases the performance of a system and can multitask.

Perform     read and write operations.

The     processor can read information faster than a hard disc, floppy, USB, etc.

Disadvantages of RAM

Less     RAM reduces the speed and performance of a computer.

Due     to volatile, it requires electricity to preserve the data.

It     is expensive than ROM

It     is unreliable as compared to ROM

The     Size of RAM is limited.

Read-Only Memory (ROM)

ROM

is a memory device or storage medium that is used to permanently store information inside a chip. It is a read-only memory that can only read stored information, data or programs, but we cannot write or modify anything. A ROM contains some important instructions or program data that are required to start or boot a computer. It is a non-volatile memory; it means that the stored information cannot be lost even when the power is turned off or the system is shut down.

 Types of ROM

There are five types of Read Only Memory:

1.       MROM (Masked Read Only Memory):

MROM is the oldest type of read-only memory whose program or data is pre-configured by the integrated circuit manufacture at the time of manufacturing. Therefore, a program or instruction stored within the MROM chip cannot be changed by the user.

2.       PROM(ProgrammableReadOnlyMemory):

  It is a type of digital read-only memory, in which the user can write any type of information or program only once. It means it is the empty PROM chip in which the user can write the desired content or program only once using the special PROM programmer or PROM burner device; after that, the data or instruction cannot be changed or erased.

3.       EPROM(ErasableandProgrammableReadOnlyMemory):

It is the type of read only memory in which stored data can be erased and re-programmed only once in the EPROM memory. It is a non-volatile memory chip that holds data when there is no power supply and can also store data for a minimum of 10 to 20 years. In EPROM, if we want to erase any stored data and re-programmed it, first, we need to pass the ultraviolet light for 40 minutes to erase the data; after that, the data is re-created in EPROM.

4.       EEPROM (Electrically Erasable and Programmable Read Only Memory): The EEROM is an electrically erasable and programmable read only memory used to erase stored data using a high voltage electrical charge and re-programmed it. It is also a non-volatile memory whose data cannot be erased or lost; even the power is turned off. In EEPROM, the stored data can be erased and reprogrammed up to 10 thousand times, and the data erase one byte at a time.

5.       Flash ROM: Flash memory is a non-volatile storage memory chip that can be written or programmed in small units called Block or Sector. Flash Memory is an EEPROM form of computer memory, and the contents or data cannot be lost when the power source is turned off. It is also used to transfer data between the computer and digital devices.

Advantages of ROM

1.       It is a non-volatile memory in which stored information can be lost even power is turned off.

2.       It is static, so it does not require refreshing the content every time.

3.       Data can be stored permanently.

4.       It is easy to test and store large data as compared to RAM.

5.       These cannot be changed accidently

6.       It is cheaper than RAM.

7.       It is simple and reliable as compared to RAM.

8.       It helps to start the computer and loads the OS.

Disadvantages of ROM

1.       Store data cannot be updated or modify except to read the existing data.

2.       It is a slower memory than RAM to access the stored data.

3.       It takes around 40 minutes to destroy the existing data using the high charge of ultraviolet light.

Secondary Memory

Secondary memory

is a permanent storage space to hold a large amount of data. Secondary memory is also known as external memory that representing the various storage media (hard drives, USB, CDs, flash drives and DVDs) on which the computer data and program can be saved on a long term basis. However, it is cheaper and slower than the main memory. Unlike primary memory, secondary memory cannot be accessed directly by the CPU. Instead of that, secondary memory data is first loaded into the RAM (Random Access Memory) and then sent to the processor to read and update the data. Secondary memory devices also include magnetic disks like hard disk and floppy disks, an optical disk such as CDs and CDROMs, and magnetic tapes.

Features of Secondary Memory

Its     speed is slower than the primary/ main memory.

Store     data cannot be lost due to non-volatile nature.

It     can store large collections of different types, such as audio, video,     pictures, text, software, etc.

All     the stored data in a secondary memory cannot be lost because it is a     permanent storage area; even the power is turned off.

It     has various optical and magnetic memories to store data.

Types of Secondary Memory

The following are the types of secondary memory devices:

Hard Disk

A hard disk is a computer's permanent storage device. It is a non-volatile disk that permanently stores data, programs, and files, and cannot lose store data when the computer's power source is switched off. Typically, it is located internally on computer's motherboard that stores and retrieves data using one or more rigid fast rotating disk platters inside an air-sealed casing. It is a large storage device, found on every computer or laptop for permanently storing installed software, music, text documentation, videos, operating system, and data until the user did not delete.

 Floppy Disk

A floppy disk is a secondary storage system that consisting of thin, flexible magnetic coating disks for holding electronic data such as computer files. It is also known as Floppy Diskette that comes in three sizes like 8 inches, 5.5 inches and 3.5 inches. The stored data of a floppy disk can be accessed through the floppy disk drive. Furthermore, it is the only way through a new program installed on a computer or backup of the information. However, it is the oldest type of portable storage device, which can store data up to 1.44 MB. Since most programs were larger, that required multiple floppy diskettes to store large amounts of data. Therefore, it is not used due to very low memory storage.

 CD (Compact Disc)

A CD

is an optical disk storage device, stands for Compact Disc. It is a storage device used to store various data types like audio, videos, files, OS, Back-Up file, and any other information useful to a computer. The CD has a width of 1.2 mm and 12 cm in height, which can store approximately 783 MB of data size. It uses laser light to read and write data from the CDs.

 Types of CDs

1.       CD-ROM (Compact Disc Read Only Memory): It is mainly used for bulk size mass like audio CDs, software and computer games at the time of manufacture. Users can only read data, text, music, videos from the disc, but they cannot modify or burnt it.

2.       CD-R (Compact Disc Recordable): The type of Compact Disc used to write once by the user; after that, it cannot be modified or erased.

3.       CD-RW (Compact Disc Rewritable): It is a rewritable CD disc, often used to write or delete the stored data.

DVD Drive/Disc

DVD is an optical disc storage device, stands for Digital Video Display or Digital Versatile Disc. It has the same size as a CD but can store a larger amount of data than a compact disc. It was developed in 1995 by Sony, Panasonic, Toshiba and Philips four electronics companies. DVD drives are divided into three types, such as DVD ROM (Read Only Memory), DVD R (Recordable) and DVD RW (Rewritable or Erasable). It can store multiple data formats like audio, videos, images, software, operating system, etc. The storing capacity of data in DVD is 4.7 GB to 17 GB.

 Blu Ray Disc (BD)

Blu Ray is an Optical disc storage device used to store a large amount of data or high definition of video recording and playing other media files. It uses laser technology to read the stored data of the Blu-ray Disk. It can store more data at a greater density as compared to CD/ DVD. For example, compact discs allow us to store 700 MB of data, and in DVDs, it provides up to 8 GB of storage capacity, while Blu-ray Discs provide 28 GB of space to store data.

Pen Drive

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A pen drive is a portable device used to permanently store data and is also known as a USB flash drive. It is commonly used to store and transfer the data connected to a computer using a USB port. It does not have any moveable part to store the data; it uses an integrated circuit chip that stores the data. It allows the users to store and transfer data like audio, videos, images, etc. from one computer to any USB pen drive. The storing capacity of pen drives from 64 MB to 128 GB or more.

 Cache Memory

It is a small-sized chip-based computer memory that lies between the CPU and the main memory. It is a faster, high performance and temporary memory to enhance the performance of the CPU. It stores all the data and instructions that are often used by computer CPUs. It also reduces the access time of data from the main memory. It is faster than the main memory, and sometimes, it is also called CPU memory because it is very close to the CPU chip. The following are the levels of cache memory.

 1.       L1 Cache: The L1 cache is also known as the onboard, internal, or primary cache. It is built with the help of the CPU. Its speed is very high, and the size of the L1 cache varies from 8 KB to 128 KB.

2.       L2 Cache: It is also known as external or secondary cache, which requires fast access time to store temporary data. It is built into a separate chip in a motherboard, not built into the CPU like the L1 level. The size of the L2 cache may be 128 KB to 1 MB.

3.       L3 Cache: L3 cache levels are generally used with high performance and capacity of the computer. It is built into a motherboard. Its speed is very slow, and the maximum size up to 8 MB.

Advantages of Cache Memory

1.       Cache memory is the faster memory as compared to the main memory.

2.       It stores all data and instructions that are repeatedly used by the CPU for improving the performance of a computer.

3.       The access time of data is less than the main memory.

Disadvantage of Cache Memory

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1.       It is very costly as compared to the Main memory and the Secondary memory.

2.       It has limited storage capacity.

Register Memory

The register memory is a temporary storage area for storing and transferring the data and the instructions to a computer. It is the smallest and fastest memory of a computer. It is a part of computer memory located in the CPU as the form of registers. The register memory is 16, 32 and 64 bits in size. It temporarily stores data instructions and the address of the memory that is repeatedly used to provide faster response to the CPU.

[chunkofchange]

why do you hate htis gif

[ratg0r3]

Pdude hcs coming up..

- talks in his sleep. Sometimes laughs evilly too and it scares the shit out of people sleeping with/near him

- probably missing a few teeth from fighting over the years, cant afford to get it fixed

- despite having a dog would probably secretly be a huge cat lover

- i get the impression from the krotchy stuff that hes a bit of a manchild kids show lover (his favourite pony is rarity)

- short term memory loss from drugs and brain damage

- dyslexic as fuck and cant really spell

-ive seen hcs that hes a korn/NIN liker, and i feel hed be a sublike fan too but idk why i cant expalin it

Thays all i got sorry its long

Uh i forgor abt this ask, uh yes i agree this is baller hcs

[ancestralvoices]

Family Who do you turn to for guidance and direction? As they say, without history we can't have a future?! As a culmination of all our Ancestors preceding, without them we can't move forward either...and being within our genetic memory, we have direct access. Our FREE 5-day ecourse expalins clearly how we also individually trusted that connection in order to expand our awareness, its not rocket science nor does it require special knowledge...that knowledge is within, time to let it out! https://gumroad.com/ancestralvoices #clarity #memory #genetics #epigenetics #free #ancestors #ancestor #ancestorveneration #guidance #soulguidance #awareness #fridayvibes #ancestralvoices #ancestral_voices https://www.instagram.com/p/CO2uSOZDAG2/?igshid=alh5716p3zzq

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia: Ivy on The Run and After the Rain Reviews

Hello all you happy people! We’re into week two and after far too long we finally get some answers.. well okay not the ones we thought we were getting but hey you take what you get sometimes. Point is it’s a big week, with a fun ivycentric episode that fleshes her and Felcia out and a far more serious episode that finally explains a few things, not saying what things because spoilers. So join me under the cut for some smiles, some tears, and a bit of Muay Thai and Myagi-Do as I break things down. 

Ivy on the Run:

I was pleased as punch to find out Ivy was getting an episode. While I couldn’t say she was a faviorite of mine, I always found Katie Crowns performance exceptional, and her a delight to watch. The character wasn’t bad.. but EVERY episode up to this one involving her was about her and Sprig’s relationship which while really fucking precious left little room to flesh her out beyond a love of ambushes and being into the same kid stuff Sprig was into. 

This episode not only corrects that but also takes another suprising leap for the series in having Ivy clearly be the main character of the episode. While this isn’t the first episode to spotlight a citzen of wartwood.. it’s the first where the Plantars are side characters in the plot instead of just as important as whoever got focus or usually more important. Here Ivy is the lead of the episode: We open on her waking up for the day (Or rather having been awake for hours to trick her alarm clock), get a sense of her personality.. and of the episodes conflict: Ivy’s desire to be free and explore versus her mothe’rs constnat anal renttientve insistence she do tea related stuff like fold swans properly. IT’s a decent enough conflict that gets elevated by hte twist at the end. 

So she runs out after that to meet up with Sprig, and ambush him because that’s how thier relationship works. And what I really like here is while their relationships still present in the episode it’s thankfully not the focus or even realy lreated. Their clearly together, it’s just not the focus of the episode> Just some nice ranch dressing atop this salad. While they go to hunt for glitter beetles, Anne is teaching Polly, Muay Thai. The martial art of champions.. specifically one eyed ones who like to put tiger in front of their moves. As for why she took it up her mom wanted somewhere to put her energy, as seen in a flashback with a young Anne adorably banging on pans while singing her own version of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. It’s fucking precious. 

So the couple happily go beetle hunting i’ts precious.. but Ivy’s patience with her mother starts to run out as her mother loudly interupts her hunt to return her for tea practice: stirring it, setting tables, folding swans that sorta thing. All things she clearly dosen’t WANT to do or like and gives the impression Felcia is trying to force her daughter to become more like her and less like herself which... no. Just no. 

Ivy eventually hits her limit with this bullshit, tells her mother off and then stomps off to her room whiel her Mom fails ot understand that MAYBE being hypercirtical of your daughter, even if it turns out you have a good reason, might backfire. Ivy is encouraged by her posters, great scene by the way, to run away and leave town, and take Sprig with her.. whose relcutant as he talked himself up as being really well liked and savy out there but was just okay in practice. 

Meanwhile Polly and Anne continue training but Polly can’t get it as she just can’t calm down and focus, and Anne easily blocks her. In constrast Wally shows up, having apparently been watching them. 

And picks it up instantly. I can see why; Wally seems a bit scatterbrained due to his weird and wonderful nature.. but we’ve seen him be entirely capable when the chips are down, and to be a talented musician. So while he’d SEEM like he’d lack focus, it’s probably way easier to him than the impatient tadpole who just wants to kick ass without getting it takes a few steps. 

Meanwhile Sprig tries to talk his girlfriend out of running away together at 10 only for Sylvia to tail them with those bee phone things she used earlier.. and also be there, as once they clear those out she’s waiting and both end up at the Muay Thai class. Things finally hit their breaking point and Ivy wishes she never had family... and I think this is what finally gets it in Felicia’s head she messed up. She meant well.. but sh’es clearly been so hard on her child that, even if she instnatnly regrets it, she’s willing to disown her own mother if it means getting away from her. 

So Felica gives her a way out: Martial Arts Match. Because nothing says parental love like fighting your daughter for her freedom. Though in her defense things are pretty fair: three matches, and Ivy just needs to win ONE by getting a point on her, like in a martial arts competition. I only know that’s what they were going for because I binged Cobra Kai last month along with the first two Karate Kids. 

And that refrence isn’t for nothing as Felcia easily dominates the first two matches using Miyagi-Do esque moves i.e. pure defense, and with a Miyagi style lesson inside as for the final one.. she has Ivy repeat the various tea things she’d had her do, and just like that amazing fucking scene from Karate Kid, Ivy can now fight and realizes her mother was training her the whole time, as her mom simply wanted her to be readly and as for why Felcia herself is a karate master, she picked it up while gathering tea as naturally it’s incredibly dangerous in amphibia.  

So Felcia let’s her daughte win and expalins she just wanted her to be safe.. which is nice but while her devistaiton earlier clearly shows it, it still dosen’t QUITE justify how hard she was or not telling her why when her daughter is a clear tomboy. I do get the Miyagi-Do training style: it builds muscle memory and means you can defend without thinking, fight without having to plan every punch and kick. It’s brilliant.. but you have to match the training to the student. Daniel hated his traning too.. but Miyagi clearly KNEW he would, knew he’d give out and set it all up that way. Felcia.. nearly pushed her daughter into running away and never apologized. It’s not all terrible as there is the implciation this whole match was Felcia realizing she had to make it clera what she was doing, but it’s still fairly torubling the episode never adresses her behavior outright., even if they make up and Felciia plans to take her along next time. Also Polly punches wally in the face... eh he’l lbe fine. 

Final Thoughts on Ivy on the Run: This one was decent. As said the final part feels a bit... ehhh..as it feels they don’t adress Felicia’s controlling attitude enough.. but it dosen’t detract from a pretty fun episode, especially the Muay Thai stuff. That was an unexpected treat. And let’s face it after recently getting in deep with the franchise thanks to cobra kai, I can’t hate anything that reminds me of  the Karate Kid. In a good way at least. 

After The Rain:

Well this was both a long time coming and as painful as I expected. And after over a year and a half, we FINALLY get some answers.. not ALL the answers but some. Look you know what this episode is about, I know what this episode is about, let’s get cracking in round 2. 

So Anne’s got a letter, anne’s got a letter I wonder who it’s from. Marcy.. it’s from Marcy. Turns out she’s ready to go to the first temple, and even sent them a check list: weapons, food (check and check) and armor. Hop Pop already thought of that.. but instead of badass and practical armor.. it’s padded sumo suits that they can’t move in because “less mobility means less trouble”. Or you’ll get eaten by a hawk.. which given this show is probably also on fire and can shoot acid out of its’ eyes. Or lasers. Or acid lasers. The point is their gonna die. THey also naturally need the music box... which Hop Pop about craps himself hearing. Gee it’s almost like not getting the box sooner when you knew damn well abotu the temple thing and that they’d need it kinda bit you on the froggy bottom Hopidiah. 

It gets worse for him as while he mentions his ‘contacts” again.. that night he goes to dig it up. Problem is, Anne follows him when she hears footsteps, and while she initially assumes i’ts just him being a weirdo and plans to suprise him... we instead get the gut punch we’ve been anticpating for the last year and a half.  Hop Pop shouts about the box being gone, clearly panicked... and Anne hears him, utterly devistated and rightfully FURIOUS. He confesses the truth, clearly feeling guilty for what he’s done and lying all this time but Anne dosen’t want to hear it and storms off. 

Yeah as you can tell this is a rough one. So next morning Hop Pop, who clearly hasn’t slept and given his surrogate grandaughter just rightfully walked out on him why would he, confesses to the kids what he did. And while neither like what he did .. they prioritize getting Anne back, sending him to go fix his mess while they find the box. 

The box turns out to not be the only thing missing: various other things around town have been stolen, including a talisman that if Maddie dosen’t get it back will have horrifying consequences. Classic Maddie. As for why Swampy Joe has the answer: the magpie beetle, a beetle that emerges once every 20 years to steal stuff to use as a shell to impress mates. They find the box.. but it’s in a seatle of beatles and soon get swamped.  Meanwhile Anne’s returned to the cave and... okay i’m just going to have to power through or this episodes going to kill me with sadness. After some bits about her and her rock rocky, Hop Pop finds her and she still has nothing to say to him, again for good reaosn, but before he can get to telling her WHY he did it, they hear the others crying for help and Anne tries to rescue them herself, only helping hop pop do so when he points out they NEED to and even if she rightfully dosen’t trust him she needs to for now. THey save the kids.. and Anne STILL wants to leave.

We then get an even bigger gut punch. It turns out Hop Pop didn’t hide the box for some big reveal.. regarding the box. Turns out it’s not the box itself, his book just says it’s dangerous and w’ell likely find out any specifics it had next week. It’s Hop Pop’s lingering trauma. While we don’t find out why the Box is dangerous.. we do find out what hapepned to their parents. And I just want to say before we get into that Bill Farmer’s acting this WHOLE episode is some of hte finest, if not THE finest in his career. HIs guilt, his pain.. it’s all so raw and palpable. Brenda Song’s no slouch either, Anne’s pain and anger is likewise very well done, but Bill is far and away the mvp of the episode.. and this scene is why. 

He reveals he’s been so cautious, so scared for the kids and so overly protective in general.. because of how the kids parents died, something they don’t blame him for but he does: He was out of town on buisness.. when a pair of herons attacked. Sprig and Polly got to the family bunker in time.. their parents... weren’t so lucky. It’s not the big bombastic arc related death we all thought was coming.. but I like it for it’s brutal nightmarish simplicity. They didn’t die some heroic death, they aren’t still here.. they just died like SO MANY background frogs have. Two wild giant animals they coudln’t possibly defend against got em. Nothing could’ve been done no matter what Hop Pop thinks, theirs no way they coudl’ve been saved, and i’ts LUCKY their children didn’t share the same fate. But their gone and it gives a new, awful meaning to Hop Pop’s overproectivness. Before it was mildly justified if a bit strict.. now.. i’ts him trying not to loose what he has left. Trying to hold on tight to his grandkids so he dosen’t loose anyone else.

He hid the box because his trauma and guilt were so severe he did something very stupid, and regretted it ever since and begs anne to forgive him in THE best line read of Bill Farmer’s long and storied career. And she does, hugging her Hop Pop gently, realizing that while he fucked up.. she gets WHY he did.. and that he’s sorry for it. He wasn’t tyring to keep her from going home or any messed up shit.. he just was trying to keep her and his other kids alive. And as Sprig and Polly say it’s not his fault, it never could’ve been.. he can’t help but feel that way. You just feel.. powerless when you loose someone, like you could’ve done something even though 9/10 you couldn’t have and it leaves a hole you never quite fill. So this hit like a truck. But our family is reconclied and the kids get a look at the entry in  Hop Pop’s ancestral book. What does it say besides it bad? what does this mean? We’ll find out next week. For now it’s just good to have them all together again. 

Final Thoughts on After the Rain: This episode is a masterpiece. It’s exepertly crafted, sticks in a few gags for flavor and only has the sprig and polly plot to help keep the main meat of the plot as light as it needs to be.. and it works. The few scenes we get with Anne and Hop Pop are just plain brutal and exactly what’s needed. It’s one of the series best, painful, raw and with a twist I dind’t see coming. I expected, again like most of us for the kdis parents deaths to be tied into it.. but instead.. it’s just trauma. But it’s satisfying enough that it feels like a great payoff, that it wasn’t some big dark secret like misdirected... it was just an old man who didn’t want to loose what family he had left. And that’s fucking brilliant. 

Next Week: THE FIRST TEMPLE BABY! The Plantars and Marcie head into the woods to fight moblins and ggghosts! I mean.. that is what the forest temple is right? 

Until then follow me for more reviews, follow me on my patreon your support would be appricated and see you at the next rainbow. 

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Ghost Of You (Part 5)

Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

W.C. : 3200

Summary:  The war with Voldemort was over. Draco Malfoy was forced to flee for his life ending up in Muggle London where he met you, the muggle whose house he broke in looking for a place to hide. You agreed to let him hide in your house if he promised to let you live your life normally. How will your relationship work as time passes and you both realize you’re no longer just partners in crime?

A/N: Can someone expalin to me the sorcery behind feeling like I wrote an entire book and realizing is shorter than previous parts? Because I don’t get it and I’m confused. Doesn’t matter, I’m back and ready to keep posting.

Again, thank you for the 100 followers. Love you all my Skittles (Yes, I am calling you skittles).

Please, let me know what you think. I love reading your comments! Shoot me an ask or somthing if you would like to be tagged. Enjoy and happy reading!

*Not my GIF. Credits to the creator*

You were frozen staring at the man just outside your door. Visibly shaken, your grip on the doorknob turned your knuckles white. Both, Jack and Draco’s eyes landed on you after a minute of silence. both in worry and confusion.

 Jack cleared his throat, looking at you “Can I come in?” he asked in a serious tone.

 “We were actually in the middle of something.” said Draco before you could answer yourself, stepping forward his chest bumping with your back. You gave him a hard stare, wondering if he actually remembered the turn your little chat had taken. You noticed then his clenched fists at his sides, he didn’t want Jack there.

 You moved your body aside, using it to push Draco back with your steps. The door opened completely, letting Jack inside with a soft Come in from you. Waiting until Jack had made it all the way to the living room, you turned to Draco behind you “Don’t think you will get out of this so easily, Malfoy.” you hissed, poking his chest.

 You were already turning to go to Jack when a cold hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you dangerously close to him “Don’t call me Malfoy” he said lowly, marking every word. His last name practically growled with a deep burning hate.

 “Or what?” you looked straight into his eyes, his grip on your wrist tightening “You’re going to force me?” you dared, his entire face turning red.

 “I promised I wouldn’t but you are being really tempting at the moment.” he mumbled letting go of your hand and storming to the kitchen without a word.

 You watched him, wanting to feel bad but you were really worked up because of everything he said before Jack’s interruption, he clearly was holding back from using his secrets to make him leave and to make you behave, as he had called it, so you let him go turning to the living room where Jack was.

 He was sitting at the couch, reading over the few papers you had left there from your work. He had always loved to go over your work, saying he had so much to learn from you. You were tempted to let him be a little longer, unfortunately you and the man in your kitchen didn’t have the time or patience to be nice.

 “What are you doing here Jack?” you asked sharply making him jump in his seat. He quickly placed the papers back from where he took them, jumping to his feet.

 “I came to see how you were,” he said simply, giving you a nervous smile “ I saw Sally and she told me you were sick.” he explained.

 Jack, was a sweet caring guy, there was no denying it. But you felt his behavior out of place. If you still were together you would have never minded him dropping by your place unannounced claiming to be worried about you, but you weren’t and the fact that it wasn’t the first time he had done it was even more infuriating.

 “Jack, you can’t keep doing this.” you sighed in defeat, rubbing your temples with tired look in your face “You ended things, remember? Not me, you.”

 “I know but…”

“No, you can’t keep coming here just because you heard I’m sick, or because  you heard I had bad day at work or because you miss me, you just can’t.” your words came out so fast you doubted he even understood what you said but his hurt look said otherwise.

 He let a breath out turning in his place, he ran a hand through his hair “I’m sorry, okay.” he spat turning his face to you, two steps and he was in front of you holding your hands in his.

 “What?” you said loudly, shaking your hands out of his “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

 “I made a mistake,” he told you with a determined look in his face “I know I did, but I felt like you didn’t love anymore and then you said you didn’t want to get married or have a family and I got scared!”

 “And then broke up with me.” you added with a fire in your eyes “I know, I was there.”

 “But then I didn’t see you for months, you wouldn’t even look at me at the halls at work, never talk to me and I realized how important you are in my life” he said, desesperacion taking over his features.

 But you had stopped listening at some point, your body felt like a statue at the tension gathered in every single one of your muscles and you were surprised that you weren’t visible shaking. “Y/N…” he whispered, seeing you had a dead look in your eyes, remaining completely silent.

 “And all it took for you to realize that was breaking my heart.” you mumbled so low he frowned, taking a hesitant step towards you “My. Heart.” you repeated, making him stop dead in the spot.

 “I’m sorry.” he whispered shakily with glossy eyes.

 “Being sorry is not enough Jack!” you snapped, pointing at him with sharp movement of your hand “I loved you, I cried every night because it wasn’t enough for you just being with me and you are sorry?” you yelled in disbelief, a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

 He had a dead look in his face, and you thought maybe you had gone too far before he scoffed, taking you by surprise.

 “Didn’t took you too long find someone else, though” he grunted, his eyes shifting to the kitchen before returning to you.

 “What is that even supposed to mean?” you asked, cleaning your cheek with the back of your hand.

 “C’mon Y/N” he said, his arms flying in the air when he began to pace back and forth “You are the most popular teacher at school, you were at everyone’s mouth.”

 You stared at him wide-eyed, the tears falling now freely down your cheeks “What?” you stuttered, covering your mouth with your hand.

 “Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone at school saw you with the mysterious blond man. ” he mocked and you turned to the kitchen, remembering the day that Draco forced himself into your work, entertaining the entire class with the made up stories of your time together at college.

 You would have smiled at the memory, being more funny now that Draco had assured you he would never do something against them, but you felt numb as you face Jack once more “You’re jealous.”

 “What?” he spat, stopping his pacing.

 “You didn’t came here because you were worried,” you said meeting his eyes “You came here because you’re jealous of Draco.” you muttered, watching his face contort into one of confusion.

 “Who the hell is Draco?” he asked, and you quickly realized your mistake stumbling back.

 The sounds of the kitchen made you look back, a couple of crashing sounds catching your attention. You were about to walk in there when Draco emerged, positively on high alert when his eyes landed on you “We need to go,” he said grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door not even waiting for your answer.

 You let him pull you with him leaving Jack behind, you tried to talk to Draco, asking him all kind of questions that he wouldn’t answer. His face moved wearily over your car and the fence separating your house from your neighbors.

 “Hey!” Jack shouted, following you out the door “You can’t just run from this, you…”

 Draco cursed under his breath, turning momentarily back to Jack “Would you just shut up?!” he hissed, pulling you to your car.

 He place his hands on your shoulders and looked you straight in the eyes “I need you to get in your car, drive as far away as you can. I will look for you, okay?” he ordered, seeing the tears in your cheeks “Do you understand?” he asked softly, looking wildly for your eyes bringing his thumb up to your cheek, cleaning the tears there.

 You shook your head, eyes wide as you glanced from your home to him “No.” you told him, trying to sound more confident and failing getting a small smile from him.

 “Y/N,” he called you when you started to rant, making you stop “They found me.” 

 You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, shaking your head furiously at him “No, I’m not leaving you.” you cried, stepping away from him and the car “Let's’ go to the police, they can do something.” But you didn’t hear whatever he answered you, your eyes focusing over his shoulder on the cloaked figures emerging  from down the street.

 Everything around you slowed down, the masks in their faces sending chills down your spine as one of them raised their arm towards you, holding in their hand an object like the one Draco carried with him at all times. You didn’t have time to shout anything, your body acting on its own as the words coming out from the person right in front of you were muffled by the pain of your body landing over Draco’s.

 Your scream was cut short when Draco and Jack both reacted, kneeling beside your car taking cover from the sudden flashes of light being thrown in your direction. You were in a complete state of shock as you slowly turned to Draco, his back at you when he rose to his feet, shooting the same flashes of light from his wand, yelling words you couldn’t fully understand.

 Jack was yelling beside you, but you were unable to move your eyes from Draco. Everything you didn’t want to believe when you connected the ideas of him carrying a wand with the inexplicable reason as to why he could make you do his will with a whisper in your ear was becoming true right before your eyes.

 “Merlin!” he yelled, snapping you out of your trance “Silencio” he casted, pointing his wand right at Jack, who shoot his hands around his throat with a distraught look.

 The heavy breathing coming from Draco made you realize it was the only sound you could hear. You turned to him, his head poking over your car before he took your hand again “C’mon” he breathed out.

 He started running, never letting go of you. You managed to grasp your hand around Jack´s jacket, pulling him with you enough for him to follow. Draco took you out of the streets, entering the forest behind your house.

 You had ran for minutes, the lights tiny dots in the distance. Looking around you, you saw nothing but trees that looked the same, everywhere you turned looked the same. You wanted nothing but to stop. And you did.

 Draco turned to you, searching your eyes with a questioning look before he saw your shaking form “We can’t stop now, love.” he told you with a pleading look, reaching his hand for you to take again.

 Just when you were about to take it, something pulled you back, your fingers barely brushing his “No” said Jack with a hoarse voice “I don’t care who you are or who is after you, you’re not taking her with you.” he placed an arm around you, pulling you behind his body.

 Draco made a sound from deep in his throat, fighting his own body to not launch himself at Jack “You’re lucky I let you follow, if it was up to me I would’ve left you with them.” he mumbled, walking forward and you followed breaking out of Jack’s hold.

 “Draco.” you called, quickening your pace to keep up with him “Draco!” you yelled, seeing as he kept on ignoring you.

 He snapped his head at you, clenching his jaw he moved his eyes anywhere but you “What?” he muttered coldly.

 “What...How did they found you?” you stuttered, glancing back to make sure Jack followed. You jogged, taking his arm with your small hand, only managing to make him turn towards you.

 But the sounds of laughter reached your ears and you turned back, the echo making you snap your head in every direction you heard it coming from. Draco took your shaky hand in his again walking further into the woods, not really knowing how to return home, or if you ever would.

 “Draco!” someone sang, voice echoing in the air “You can’t hide forever!”  

 “No.” he muttered, looking wildly in every direction he could.

 The woods were dark, no light that came from the moon or the stars helping you as he cursed under his breath “Lumos.” he whispered, a soft light shining from the tip of his wand, making you stumble back and not falling for his tight hold in your hand.

 He gave you an apologetic look, mouthing something you couldn’t understand before a whisper behind you brought you back “There you are.”

 You both turned with a jump, a woman standing behind you with a grin in her face, her wand moving a stray piece of hair from her face. She tilted her head, eyeing your entire body before she dedicated a dark smile to Draco.

 “You’re supposed to be dead.” he said sharply, pulling you behind him.

 She laughed, walking around so she could keep an eye in both you and him “Don’t sound so sad to see me.” she said, her voice raspy “After all, we are family.”

 Your eyes looked for any reaction in Draco but he kept a stoic look at all times “I don’t know you.” he muttered, glancing swiftly at you.

 You didn’t know what to do, not understanding anything of what was being said or was happening made you even more frustrated, your eyes burning with the unshed tears you were fighting to keep at bay. You couldn’t breakdown there. The three of you had to make it alive first.

 Your heart stopped inside of you, eyes looking everywhere around you for Jack.

 “Oh, Draco” she pouted, her eyes shining with amusement “You hurt my feelings” she placed a hand over her heart before her eyes fell on you, your stomach turning inside you “Who is the mudblood, Drakey?”

 “Stay away from her,” he growled raising his wand towards her, using his body as a shield “It’s me who you want, leave her out of this.”

 She chuckled darkly, taking the same stance as Draco “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you watch as I play a little with her, your death can wait.” she said and you fisted his suit jacket in your hands.

 “Touch a single hair in her and you’ll regret the moment you came looking for me.” he threatened flicking his wrist, a red light shooting from the tip of his wand.

 She gasped, her eyes wild as the blue shield she had created dissipated from the air “You were always weak minded, just like my traitor of a sister.” she hissed and Draco didn’t need to take two look into her eyes to know what was coming.

 He ordered you to run, giving your hand a quick squeeze before he started dueling the woman again. He shouted spell after spell, moving expertly he draw his wand across his body and pushing with force towards her.

 You would have been in awe of him, but the image of the woman on the opposite side make you want to run and never return. She was enjoying herself, she had went out of her way to hurt Draco and now she had him right there at the end of her wand to her disposal. You had to do something.

 Draco was purposefully walking back, trying to get a grasp of you and where you were hiding. He knew there were more death eaters around, but he would have never imagined that his aunt herself would be leading the hunt for his head.  She knew she had been loyal, but never to want to kill him after all was lost. He should’ve have known.

 She struck one right blow at Draco, immobilizing him just enough for her to walk to where he stood still “Did you know your own mother helped find you?” she said, bringing a hand up to his face. “Not even your own mother can stand the idea of you, you blood traitor.” she spat, wrinkling her nose.

 “Go to hell.” he said through gritted teeth, staring deep into her eyes.

 She gave him a look of disgust, making a puking sound before patted his cheek “That’s no way to treat Auntie Bella. But first,” she said, clapping her hands together and looking around “Where’s that mudblood friend or yours?” she asked.

 “She has nothing to do with this!” he shouted, watching Bellatrix walk back with a grin “Leave her and I’ll go with. No fight.”

 She opened her mouth, the words getting stuck in her throat as she fell to the ground with a thud sound. Draco stared at the unconscious body of her aunt on the ground before he snapped his head at the squeaking sound coming from you.

 You let the piece of log fall from your arms, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. You glanced at her, taking the wand from her hand “Did I kill her?” you asked Draco shakily, your eyes were puffy but you had stopped crying and were more in shock. Numb.

 “No.” he told you, following your eyes “She’s still breathing, see?” he pointed to her chest, the air flowing in and out of her lungs. He clumsily took a step towards you taking your arms and pulling you to his chest in a hug. “We need to move, love.” he said, the words muffled by your hair in his face.

 You nodded, pulling away from him “I found Jack” you told him, starting to walk “He’s unconscious too” you showed him to where he lay on the dirt. Draco kneeled beside him, examining his body before he gave you a satisfactory nod.

 “There are more of them in the woods,” he told you, looking straight into your eyes “I need to get us out of here, including your git of an ex.” he mumbled pointing at him on the ground, grabbing  your hand “I can do that, but I need to know you would be fine.”

 “Why?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. He took off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders carefully.

 “I need to know you won’t get scared and run.” you took a hesitant look to Jack before turning to Draco.

 “Okay.” you whispered, hearing the sigh of relief from his lips.

 He stretched his hand at you, taking yours and lacing your fingers with his “Take Jack’s hand, please.” you did as he told you, looking at him again “Are you ready?” he asked you and you were sure you would never be ready, but you had no choice, so you gave him a weak nod. He took his wand out, giving you one last glance before the world around you spiraled away.

 Then everything turned black.

*******************************************************************************************

SURPRISE! For the purpouse of this fic Auntie Bella is alive :) 

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse​ @accio-rogers​ @gloriousrebelrunaway​ @slytherinprincess03​ @coldlilheart​ @aasthapiplani​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @l1teralegend​ @infinity1o1​  @nevermore9292  @artist-bby​ 

[anika-ann]

Take the Ache - pt.1

Part 1: The Us in Trust (gone)

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 4700

Summary (series): An Avengers’ ally, a brilliant weapons designer, one of the closest friends to Steve Rogers; you’ve been carrying all these titles with pride. And now it seems they are all crumbling down at once, torn down by allies, enemies and by yourself.

How can you fix it? How can you win when your traitorous heart fights for what you’d always wanted and never had?

If you work hard enough, you can do justice to the word 'hero' in your codename. Maybe. But can you really be enough to take the 'ache' from heartbreak?

Series masterlist

Warnings: allusions to slightly self-destructive behaviour, mild pain, minor injury, self-doubt, mention of death

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; this prologue is a flashfoward and is very short, especially on my scale; title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2:  No use of Y/N. Main character's nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise)

This feeling – this absurdly heavy sensation in your chest and stomach – was killing you.

It was nothing short of suffocating – and that fact alone was even more absurd and defied all science there was.

Because it shouldn’t feel like this.

It could be unpleasant, yes, but it shouldn’t feel like your ribs were being crushed, a phantom of debilitating pain you knew wasn’t really there. And yet it was.

Your knuckles ached. Hurt. Stang. You suspected that was the courtesy of you having wrapped the tape around your hands wrong; but you weren’t exactly an expert and you had no patience to watch a video, nor the heart to try and remember the details Steve had so gently taught you. Mainly because it was his fault that you were here in the first place.

It was her fault.

You punched the bag again and again, focusing on the sting to help you disperse the memory of Steve very carefully laying his hands on your hips to lead your movements during punches, because the key to having a mean right and left hook was the impulse for the punch coming with the slight rotation of the hips. Even Steve did so to create the explosive power behind his punches, despite his arms being ten times stronger than yours and the size of goddamn bowling balls, the muscles of his arms threaded by the supersoldier serum.

Now, you punched the bag purposely without that rotation as to out of spite; unfortunately, you also miscalculated the power behind the hit as well as the angle of the impact, and failed to properly tighten your hand in the wrist, resulting in a sharp jolt of pain all the way up to your elbow.

You hissed and shook the hand, taking a few breaths before you kept going; this time mindful of clenching hard enough. At least you hoped you did.

After all, you couldn’t quite tell; you were no expert.

That was the problem to begin with – you weren’t skilled at combat. You didn’t need to be, because you weren’t an agent. Steve had been kind enough to teach you, because he had wanted you to be able to defend yourself at least a bit just in case he wasn’t around.

At the time, you hadn’t found it insulting. In fact, you had found it charming. You had turned almost starry-eyed at the fact that he cared that much, the sincerity and worry in his gaze, along with an almost palpable enthusiasm, perhaps born from being able to teach you something and even show off in front of you.

You had been wrong.

You were a smart woman, but apparently, you were also an idiot.

An idiot who could never match the expectations one of your closest friend had for his future partner. That was, if you could even still call Steve a close friend, when the amount of time you had spent together lately was decreasing at alarming pace.

The thought of losing the bond with him stung much sharper than the microcracks to your skin under your wraps, bringing frustrating tears into your eyes.

With a lovechild of a huff and a growl, you hit the bag harder; and you almost wished you could give yourself a real reason –a physically painful reason – to cry.

But wasn’t the loss of a dear friend a good enough reason? Mourning the loss of shy hope? Wasn’t anger, eating you alive, good enough either? Because you were angry. So damn angry.

At yourself.

At Steve.

At Sharon.

She had simply walked in in her badass agent attire, perfect hair and light touch of make-up accentuating her natural beauty, all lean and gentle curves and the perfect brains and her stupid last name and went and stomped on your hopes like they meant nothing.

You huffed again and dropped your hands, wiping away the sweat at your brow, inhaling and exhaling before you gritted your teeth and hit the bag again.

It was wrong of you to think that way, you knew. It was incredibly unfair.

But you really did dislike the woman, as much as she didn’t deserve it.

And that might have been the worst part; Sharon didn’t deserve even a lick of your antipathy.

She was one of the most likeable people you had ever met. She had that magnetic personality and looks of a woman who attracted anyone in her vicinity with her kindness and smiles and brilliance and courage and skill. And while it was true that Steve was a supersoldier, he was also only human. He was only a man. You couldn’t blame him for falling for her, for spending so much time with her, be it at work and outside of it. The whole team was, too, even if there were probably less than romantic feelings involved than in the former case. Again, you couldn’t blame the team; and not only because Sharon sure as hell made for a better company that you did these days.

Hell, had your heart not belonged to another already, you would have probably fallen in love with her too.

And boy, was she was around too much for anyone to resist her pull.

She was around a lot.

Ever since the joined operation of SHIELD and the Avengers Initiative to take down a rogue fraction of former HYDRA had started, Sharon practically moved in to the compound, simply for the convenience of not having to commute and rushing in here whenever the team found a new lead. In fact, with her knowledge, experience and skill, she was an indispensable part of the very team. And they were always planning, discussing different angles, gathering intel, training so they could coordinate their attacks better. She was basically a new Avenger at this point, deservedly so.

And what were you?

A scientist. A weaponry designer.

You tried your best to keep the team safe, yes, to give them what they needed so they could continue saving the world, but you were technically nothing but a glorified lab rat.

Sharon Carter, the legendary Agent 13 on the other hand? She was out there. With Steve. And with others. She truly had their back. Kicking ass and probably looking flawless while doing so, Lara Croft style.

You weren’t unfit, but you could never keep up; let alone measure up. Compared to her, you were but A. Pathetic. Little. Human. With. A. Lame. Right. Hook. There was barely any power behind your hits.

And you knew that you were being mean and were exaggerating and that you were viewing her and yourself through the lens of jealousy and frustration and hurt, but that didn’t change the fact that all these things were true and you were feeling nauseous whenever you saw her face or god forbid her and Steve in the same room.

Shaking your head again, you continued punching, breaths coming out heavy and ragged, a courtesy of your work-out and your work-out only; it had nothing to do with the suffocating feeling of the crashed hopes you had been trying to push away when you had thrown yourself into work consuming you.

Nothing at all.

“Hey you,” sounded from behind your left shoulder without warning, causing you to waver, your hand slipping along the bag with your wrist bent, another jolt of pain riding up your forearm.

You turned on your heels with a hiss, heart thundering in your ribcage at the fright – and at the fact that your thoughts of Steve might have actually summoned him:

Summoned him to stand there in all his glory, white tee and grey sweats and trainers, with worry etched into his brows as he immediately went to inspect your left hand without as much as a greeting at your part, a murmured sorry on his lips.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak a single word.

He was beautiful. He was such a ridiculously beautiful human being, inside and out, his fingers tender as they cradled your slightly achy wrist attentively, gaze meeting yours with another wordless apology.

You had almost forgot how your heart stumbled whenever you saw him, how the slightest hint of his smile could take your breath away.

You had almost forgotten because you had been trying your best to avoid him, to avoid the heartache that came with knowing he wasn’t and would never be yours, the knowledge solidified by his absence you too might have had a hand in but regretted it all the same.

But he had started it. He had replaced you. He-

-was talking to you, apparently.

“’Lo? Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

You dropped your hand from his as if he burned you by speaking the special nickname only he was allowed to call you, the soft sound bringing a smile to your lips automatically. He wouldn’t even have to address you, however; your lips acted on their own volition whenever, ache or not, because Steve made you smile. And for all your stubbornness, your chest still felt lighter at merely seeing him even now.

That was what being in love with him felt like.

It was an evil juxtaposition; wishing to be in his soothing company, unable to get enough, and despising it at the same time because of the feelings that had so inconveniently took your heart by a storm.

It was a dilemma in which self-prescribed isolation until you’d settle your foolish heart seemed like the best option – that was, until his eyes roamed your face with concern and all the work you had put into stomping on the fluttery sensation in your chest upon seeing him looking at you like that turned into nothingness, denying the basic law of physics.

You knew there was a way out of this inner turmoil; you knew were being childishly angry and that acknowledging that was the first step.

You knew that eventually you’d come to terms with Steve being with Sharon, because ultimately, you wished him all the happiness in the world.

You knew you’d learn to live with the fact that the happiness simply wasn’t with you and you’d make your peace with you and him remaining good friends.

It was just not quite the time yet.

And until then, you’d have a hurricane in your ribcage and an earthquake in your mind whenever you’d see him, affection and animosity rising and falling like a tide.

You cleared your throat, brought back to the reality by the sound of your name.

“I’m fine, Steve. I don’t even feel it anymore.”

“I’m glad,” he said, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know. It’s okay. I just didn’t hear you,” you admitted. “Got lost in my thoughts.”

“A new brilliant invention in the works then?”

You chuckled, the light-hearted question taking you by too much surprise to hide the bitterness in the sound, and reached for your water bottle.

“Sure. That.”

You took a swing from the bottle, the cool liquid soothing to both your throat and your nerves.

You never used to be nervous around Steve – not like this. There had never been molecules of charged with awkward energy, not this much at least; whatever nerves you used to be feeling always tasted more of giddiness and content deep within your soul.

Funny how quickly things could change when certain blonde strode into your lives.

But you couldn’t blame Sharon. You shouldn’t blame her, because she was just a correlation, but the cause. Sharon or not, Steve would have made a move ages ago if he had been interested and you, you could have tried to make a move too, had you had the courage and truly believed the probabilities he had wanted you to be more than friends with him were high. But you hadn’t.

You still didn’t.

No question of that nature from neither you nor Steve. Because Steve had been waiting for the right partner as he had always been saying and that partner wasn’t you and now, she finally showed up and occupied an unhealthy childishly large portion of your brain no matter how much you tried to shush that green monster living in your head and eating up your heart.

A new brilliant invention, Steve said. How about something to make jealousy settle? Maybe you should start working on that, it would be a hit. Or perhaps you could work on some kind of a shield to hide yourself from Steve’s softly inquisitive gaze – like the one he was watching you with now – that had always made you fold and reveal your cards, no matter how close to the chest you had planned to play them.

He had no damn right to stand there, head slightly tilted to side, brows furrowed with concern, making your stomach clench, sending your pulse fluttering. Not when he-

“Is everything okay? I feel like we’ve been like ships that pass in the night lately…”

I’m surprised you noticed, you thought bitterly, instantly chastising yourself for that unfairly aggressive note, swallowing the venom of the words forming on your tongue. You shrugged instead.

“We’ve been busy. With the HYDRA fraction popping up… we both have our plates full.”

“Never stopped us from making time for each other before,” he whispered, insistent, his lips pursed slightly in thought, the same focus he directed on the world around him when he was either strategizing or wondering how he could capture the image in front of him on paper evident on his face.

Being on the receiving end of that look of his used to be a privilege; now, it was what you imagined being stabbed in the gut felt like. With a twist of the knife added for good measure.

Never stopped us before, he said.

‘Before’, you weren’t crushing if not in love with your fellow ridiculously charming agent, you thought, hiding the remark behind another shrug.

“Yeah, well-“

Your voice died in your throat as Steve’s fingers sprawled gently over your forearm, effectively stopping you in your tracks before you could turn away to move onto stretching, trapping you in the bottomless sea of the unfairly tender emotion in his irises.  

“I miss you.”

Your throat closed up as the words echoing the very same sentiment got stuck there, your heart now hammering painfully against your ribs and sternum.

Yeah. You missed him too.

His warmth, his kindness, his vulnerability, the quiet way he seemed to understand you without words.

Of all the Avengers, as much as you liked them every single one of them, Steve was your favourite; and it wasn’t merely the attraction and the different nature of your affection for him. It was simply because it was Steve with whom you had formed a unique bond.

Getting along with Tony was easy despite him not being the easiest person to befriend; your shared interests and your more-than-common goal and expertise worked in your favour, your job as his right hand as well as working on your independent projects for the Avengers providing you with hours spent together without any forced interactions. Not to mention the role Tony’s excentric nature played; once he decided to figuratively adopt someone into his circle, you were just there.

Natasha, while intimidating, had the enormous advantage of being a woman. The platonic mother and sister to the team safe Bucky whose feelings for her were everything but platonic, she had an innate ability to convey her feelings about boys driving her crazy in a single glare, whether it was aimed at them to make them realize the absurdity of their behaviour or at you in silent sympathy. While you and her alike did not enjoy being in a room overflowing with oestrogen-driven creatures, you were a solace to each other when the room reeked of testosterone.

Bruce, on the other hand, had the same advantage as Tony. While his focus in science was slightly different than yours – even though between the number of his PhDs and other titles, it was hard to tell which was his main field – he was a relatively comfortable person to spend time with, at least in the lab, where you could either cooperate or stay out of each other’s way.

If Tony’s adoption figurative rights concerned his professional inner circle, Clint’s were more literal. He was the fun uncle, sometimes with ridiculous habits and antics, but whose wisdom could take one by surprise. Having seen all he had in his life, he appreciated simple things, simple friendships; and his aiming skill was as deadly with a bow or a gun as it was with well-meant advice or jokes.

Thor… well. Thor was a whole another species, someone you hadn’t had much chance to interact with; but the opportunities you had had, were nothing short of pleasant and bewildering, his boisterous nature reminding you of extroverts who simply found the most introverted person in the room and made them the centre of attention and their friend, whether they liked it or not. Those less-than-social people, you, in this scenario, would always end up enjoying themselves eventually; and you had to admit that much like Clint, Thor had a knack for cracking not only thunder, but also wisdom one often forgot he possessed.

Bucky was a person haunted by demons who sharpened his fists and tongue alike. A partially reformed ladies’ man who had seen way too much evil during his relatively short life and had been forced to commit almost half of that evil, he was a surprising wild card of the team. He was deadly – on battlefield, in training, in personal life, n verbal sparring with Sam. He’d die for his people and would live for them all the same. He was a storm; a slightly unpredictable force Natasha knew how to navigate, almost as good as Bucky himself did. Oftentimes you weren’t sure what you and Bucky were, whether you were friends or not but the fact alone that you were – or had been – close to Steve earned you his respect and care. The fact you could work on his mechanical arm helped too.

Sam’s warm energy and his innate ability to make people around him comfortable made him a natural friendship material – not to mention his utter fascination with the things you could do to improve his favourite robotic buddy Redwing. From TV and music and books to the mysteries of life, he was, in a way, an opposite to Steve. Where Steve and you seemed to understand each other without as much as a single word, with Sam, it was through words.

And Steve… well. ‘Special’ was not enough of a word to encompass the complexity of him and all the ways in which he was exceptional, as an entity and to you. Politely inviting from the start, assuming the responsibility of the unofficial team leader and official strategist, he had clearly worked to make you feel comfortable and welcomed, even as you were more of an Avenger-adjacent employee than anything else. However, the true bond had been forged in quiet moments and through similarities and contradictions of your pair.

Like a pair of twins, you both carried around a sketchbook or a notebook with a pencil, almost without fail. But where you drew designs of ideas suddenly born in your head, only to make them into reality later, Steve did the opposite; he drew what already was reality laid in front of him, only to bring it alive on paper for the second time, capturing it so vividly you were certain it would rise from the page any moment. Where your specialty were inanimate objects, his was people. The number of times that found you in the common room when you couldn’t sleep, ending with both of you lounging on the couch, often touching in an inconspicuous but reassuring and encouraging ways, were next to astronomical.

The second experience you bonded over, however, was much darker – but perhaps brought you even closer. To a point, you shared it with all the Avengers, with all your close friends; but there was something about the way you could relate to Steve so profoundly and vice versa that solidified your relationship with him in particular.

You both wanted to help people. And despite doing your best, you did so in ways that sometimes made you lose sleep, good intentions tainted with violence. You did help; and to do so, you hurt. Steve with his impeccable strategy and iron-solid fists; you with the weapons you designed. And when that darkness crept in too close, so close it seemed to come from within, you found each other; you shared each other’s light and reminded one another that violence was never your primary purpose and was but a momentary means for future tenderness.

Where you struggled to grant yourself the same benefit of doubt on your own, you never had doubts about him; with Steve, it rang true. Not a soldier, not an usurper; a protector’s soul. As much as you tried to convince yourself that what you were made of the same thing, that you were merely protecting your teammates and other people from much more merciless displays of power, in the cold space of your room and workshop, it wasn’t always enough for you to believe. Being with Steve – spending time with Steve – always made you a believer.

Even now, with his cerulean eyes still observing you, the ugly feeling brewing in your gut – the jealously, the envy – felt so much more tender and much less evil, his touch grounding you and wordlessly whispering a plea to cut yourself some slack and allow yourself to feel whatever your heart thrummed with.

“You spaced out for a bit… feels like you’re always miles away,” he said, his thumb pressing softly into your forearm. “Miles away from here, but from me too. And I can’t help but wonder… did I do something to wrong? Offended you or hurt you? If I did it wasn’t my intention.”

Your breath caught in your throat, alarm bells ringing in your head as you tried to gather your thoughts and get your expression under control as not to give him any hints, even as your mind spoke of the things he had or hadn’t done so painfully clearly.

You exist. You exist and you are happy, just as happy without me as you were when I was by your side, as a friend, a mere friend with silly hopes-

You had to stop with these thoughts. That was not on him. Not really.

Pushing you to backburner because of loving someone else was barely something you could hold against him. Friends didn’t do that to each other, but you were also aware half of the distance put between you was on you and at your attempts to deal with your own feelings.

You sighed, willing the corners of your lips to rise reassuringly as you squeezed his hand on you before escaping his hold, pretending you didn’t feel as if he had had drawn his mark on your skin in ink for you to remember.  

“You didn’t.”

“Did something happen then?” he pressed, the protective note that always made your heart race finding its way into his voice, enticing you to tell him everything and let him make it okay. Except he couldn’t. No one but you could. “Are you-“

“It’s nothing, Steve. You… don’t worry about it. I just got a little busy at work,” you said, his expression speaking volumes about how much he knew that was a lie – or at least a half-truth and the goddamn genuine interest written all over his face made it so hard to think straight and resist- “I’m just--- working through something.”

His shoulders slumped, a barely-there movement to his hand as if he was about to reach out again. And you couldn’t bear it.

“And I need space to deal with it. On my own. Alone,” you added, willing yourself to raise your chin as to show you were determined to do it so.

Something flickered over Steve’s face, a quick emotion you didn’t get a chance to decipher as the door to the gym opened, drawing Steve’s eyes on instinct and yours as well.

The determination to resist Steve’s inquiries with a straight face skyrocketed in an instant, a jab to your gut making you strung like a bowstring in preparation for another hit. Because you would be prepared for that hit. And you would not be hurt nor shaken by Steve’s attempts to get in; for you to find peace for now, you needed to keep him out, at least at arm’s length.

The second and a half that took him to turn back to you was enough for you to steel your heart, a shield having gone up against his expression of concern and unfair gentleness wrapped in an intimately low voice.

“Okay. But if you ever-“

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Steve,” you cut him off, so sharply it made him actually flinch the tinniest bit, the emotion on his face clear this time.

Hurt.

He set his jaw tight despite the regret in his eyes, a courteous nod telling you just how deep that tone and words cut.

You hated yourself for putting that expression on his face; something heavy and solid, a wall you yourself had built appeared between you, blocking his attempt to reach out, and now, he had added his own side to it.

And if you kept going like this, that wall would cut him off from your life completely.

You gulped as the idea made something visceral in your bleed.

“I mean… I know you feel responsible for the whole team, Steve,” you said, this time mindful of your tone. “I just know you have enough things to worry about. And, uhm, Sharon’s waiting for you.” Your encouraging smile must have tuned into a grimace, but Steve didn’t mention it, the tension in his jaw easing just the slightest bit at the mention of his beloved. Of course it did. Your caricature of a smile hurt your cheeks. “Thank you for worrying about me, Steve, but I have to deal with this on my own. I’ll be fine. But I promise I’ll make space for my friend in my busy schedule, yeah?”

Now that brought a small smile on his lips, a little sparkle of almost-joy lighting up his eyes – and your heart ached.

“I’ll clear up mine… take care of yourself, ‘Lo, alright?”

“Aye aye, Captain. Have fun.”

He gave you one last smile before turning on his heels, jogging to Sharon. You held your face long enough for neither of them to see when your own smile slipped.

You left the gym not five minutes later, irritated with how their warm up – her warm up – naturally was three times more impressive than your whole work-out, your gloomy thoughts back like a seasonal cold.

You didn’t notice Steve’s lingering gaze as you walked away without as much as a goodbye, a sharp icy feeling settling in his already tight chest. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew you had been avoiding him. And you were hurting, your mind preoccupied with something; something you didn’t trust him with. Didn’t trust him enough to let him help you, to comfort you.

Seeing you walk away from the space he had barely just entered felt like letting you walk away from his life. It felt like losing you.

But he was not giving up without a fight.

He swore to himself he was done not pushing, ready to confront you the moment an opportunity would arise or was created by him.

He never got the chance.

With FRIDAY noticing a chatter about gathering forced in one of a few remaining bases of operations of HYDRA, all he got was your brief be careful addressed to the whole team.

Had he died on that mission, he’d die wondering if the words you had always took time to tell him and only him in person still applied and if you still truly cared whether he came back or not.

Next chapter // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading, loves 💕 Thoughts, encouragements and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

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[optionalmandatory]

I have a nice memory from my first time here of counting the public transit options available from the street corner I happened to be standing on: S-Bahn (mostly overground rail), U-Bahn (mostly underground rail), tram (on the street rail), bus (railfree), all right here for my delectation. Some form of transit seemed to touch every street corner. And now of course there’s more, low-cost rental bikes, kind of terrifying but fun-looking electric push scooters (usually being used by two teenagers at a time), and even the occasional full-on motorscooter, all scattered around wherever people have happened to have left them, unlockable with an app. In all, a quite amazing, first rate transit system. (You know it’s amazing because a Berliner told me very seriously that the East and West public transit systems developed separately and not in an integrated fashion, and this is why public transit is so hopelessly inadequate in Berlin. This riff definitely fits what I understand to be a proud Berliner reputation for dissatisfaction.)

For this amazing transit situation, the authorities also give you the opportunity to buy a year-long pass at a discounted rate, allowing you to spend your days hopping from one form of transit to another—even including the regional trains, which stop at some S-Bahn stations—which is about as delectable way to spend a day as there is. You can purchase such a pass either through an extremely complicated-looking form that you fill out by hand and take to a transit office (available in select S-Bahn stations), or by answering a series of fairly straightforward-feeling questions online and then paying with a quick, easy direct transfer from your bank.

Of course, a year-long pass must start on the first day of a month. (It would of course be absurd to have a year-long pass that started at some random point in the month, such as the day you happen to have gotten around to buying a year-long pass.) So if you happen to get around to buying your year-long pass on July 6th, the pass will start on August 1st. That’s just the way it is.

At the same time, it seems a shame to make you wait for your transit-hopping days. So, having plugged all your information into the series of relatively simple online screens, you can take the resulting receipt number and go in person to a transit office (available in select S-Bahn stations) and wait in a seemingly interminable line to talk to the person at the desk about getting your Startkahrte, an interim card that basically extends your year-long pass backwards to the random point in the month at which you’ve gotten around to it. It’s very convenient, in a slightly inconvenient kind of way.

The line turns out to be less interminable than it seems when the nice man behind us informs us that the interminable part is just for people who have business with the national train part of the office; the city transit part is handled by one man at the desk with the big S, invisible from outside the office where everyone is queuing with their masks. So we go to the man and present him with our receipt numbers and our passports, because although the transit pass is transferrable and not actually tied to our identities in any way, it definitely requires a passport.

Looking at our information on his computer screen, the man prints out documents relevant to the matter and then starts writing on them by hand. Because even though our information is already entered into the online system, a number of things need to be writte out by hand. He flips through our passports. What’s this? Where’s your apartment registration? Where’s your residence permit?

We start to expalin (appointments forthcoming!), but he’s impatient. He interrupts. What am I supposed to do with this? – Indicating the details page of the passport – Do you have an address? Where would we send the cards?

We need to convince him that even though we don’t have a registration, we will use the card, which we’ve already paid for, and that we do have an address, which we’ve already entered into the online system, and which he can presumably see on the screen in front of him. I have the address ready in my mouth and spit it out with a smile. He looks at me, looks at the uninformative and inadequate passport, and gives a little shrug. Apparently the registration in the passport is mandatory, but it’s optional mandatory.

We sign and pay and receive each a card, a piece of paper the size of a movie ticket, but on thinner paper that could easily get crumpled or washed out by the rain or flushed down a toilet. Have a nice day! We walk out. It seems another couple have been waiting a while for the city transit service desk and as the man walks past us into the office, the woman stands there and shouts Finally! Finally! not at us exactly but in our general direction, because of course the fact that there is one person employed here to deal with intra-city issues means that our doing our business gets in the way of her doing hers, and since she’s certainly not going to yell at the man at the desk about it—he might decide that something is mandatory mandatory—she might as well yet at us. To me it feels somehow very Soviet.

And then I go and hop on an S-Bahn, then on a tram—each there within a couple of minutes—to get dropped practically right to my door. It’s an honor system, no turnstyles, just a ticket-checker who pops up out of the blue in a bedraggeld t-shirt every once in a long while for a spot check, so you can really just hop on. And now I can hop on and off all day long, with my little toilet-bowl-ready movie ticket in my bag.

—ab

[asteraes-aster]

Alright, I'll bite! Why'dya choose each pokemon? :) Really liking Kenny's boots btw. He's got good tastes.

I would die for you, god thank you so m u c h ('m glad ya like 'em! :D I based his outfit on my friend's zombie au a bit, just changed colors to make it more Pokemon-esque and friendly!)

OKAY SO!!! THIS IS ALL VERY BIASED DUE TO HEADCANONS! I WILL EXPALIN AS WELL AS I CAN!

Sewaddle

Sewaddles are known for bundling up and making their own clothes! There's just something about tiny baby sewaddle that reminds me of Kenny, hiding in his parka. I love it.

I also headcanon that Sewaddle tries to make Kenny a lil "parka" but fails epically because it doesn't know how to make clothes for humans (yet). Which leads to my third point!

Sewaddle are known for making their own clothes! Sewaddle could be very helpful for fixing old clothes when Kenny and Karen can't afford new clothes!

Litwick

Litwick are known for pretending to guide people while draining their life force. Which, Kenny is immortal. Litwick can endlessly leech off of him.

It's also said that litwick lead children into the afterlife... I like to think that this litwick started leeching off of Kenny for energy, because he's immortal and has plenty of "life" to spare. It started out as convenience, but after leading him by the hand towards his afterlife over and over again, it grew attached and protective.

Now it tries to guide Kenny safely through life, trying to help him stay safe, so that hopefully it won't have to take him to what lies beyond anymore.

Parasect

The poisonous spores it makes can be used for/in medicine. Health stuff just suits Kenny because Death, okay? Like, poison kills, yet in this instance can be used to heal, and I love that!

It's a fucking ZOMBIE! The original "bug" is dead, and entirely controlled by the mushroom on its back. It is dead. But alive... like Kenny.

No thoughts. Head empty.

Phantump

Now we get to the headcanon heavy stuff. Alright, some pokemon are actually humans who have died. Fun, right? Well, phantumps form when a spirit, more specifically a lost child who has died, possesses a rotten tree stump. Consider: a young Kenny gets lost in the woods, dies, and his spirit possesses a stump. He becomes a phantump, but at the same time he must come back to life, since being a ghost pokemon isn't exactly alive. So his soul splits, and a bit of him is still phantump. Is still that lost child who died in the woods and, scared of death, possessed the nearest object it could find.

Legend also says that by brewing their leaves and boiling down the liquid you can create a medicine that will cute anything! Do I like to think that this ability comes from/is enhanced by the fact part of Kenny's immortal soul is in the phantump? Maybe. Don't judge me.

Pumpkaboo

It's said that, much like litwick, pumpkaboo can lead people to the afterlife. I like to imagine that pumpkaboo and litwick do it together (or one at a time when it hurts too much).

Pumpkaboo, like phantump, are also formed by spirits trapped in this world! And Kenny's spirit goes many places, but sometimes it goes nowhere at all, and this leaves him vulnerable to pulls, like possessing objects (like many spirits seem to). I imagine this happens around middle school, so it's been a years since his spirit was last split. But again, he is brought back, and pumpkaboo is left in his wake.

Gengar

Gengars were also once human, and are rumored to take lives of humans to create companions since they're lonely!

This would definitely be when Kenny is in highschool, time for his spirit to heal and grow, and when he dies he is lonely and lost, trying to find companionship. His soul becomes warped, a shadow in itself, a playful smile in the night following potential "friends".

When he inevitably comes back, the gengar no longer seeks to kill for companionship, considering that Kenny would just come back anyways.

Honourable Mentions!

Color

I specifically chose orange and purple themed pokemon where I could! Orange because,,, well. And purple due to Mysterion! Phantump was more black then purple, and sewaddle more yellow than orange, but I'm kinda proud of how it turned out!

Types

I specifically chose pokemon that were ghost types and plant types! Ghost types because duh, Kenny dies, and plants because I felt they resembled life/growth. His pokemon represent him and that he comes back, in ever way!

Memories

Kenny's ghost pokemon can remember his deaths (or at least those that use to be Him). The rest of his don't remember, but they do have suspicions/get feelings.

Now here's Kenny wrapped up in clothes sewaddle made for him!

[a-pervy-nerdy]

Unlikey of Friends (Henry Bowers x reader)

Request: "Could you write a fic about the reader being like the sibling or cousin of someone from the losers club and she comes back to derry for the first time in a while and kicks the Bowers gangs ass after witnessing them hurting her cousin or sibling? But then she finds out about Henry's abuse and tries to help him? Like they end up being friends and laugh about the time she kicked his ass" ~ Anonymous

Sure thing, buckaroo! 🤘❤

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I'm sure people don't know that Im even taking requests because I havent even fucking answered the ones that I'm given and I'M SORRY!!! I'm getting to em! Your requests, and your feedback are what keep me active! ✌❤

Warnings: None, gross boys? Abuse. Yeah, definitely abuse.

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

It was a beautiful night. The cool air was still, and there wasn't a cloud on the sky. The deep blue of the sky behind the sparkling stars provided a nice view. You sat on your roof outside your bedroom window and watched the sky. Finding constellations and watching the stars twinkle above. It was shockingly peaceful. Until you heard the sound of leaves crunching below.

You listened as you heard the fumbling of feet and the rustling of a tree. You watched as two callused hands reached onto the panelling of the roof, and pulled the rest up. A shaggy, and tattered boy pulled himself up and threw his legs over. He let out little grunts as he did so. When he looked up at you, he looked a little surprised.

"Oh...you're out." He noted.

"Yeah, I don't know, just seemed like a good night to watch the stars." You told him, and looked back up the sky.

"I guess, if you're into that shit." He grunted as he sat beside you, and then meeting your gaze amungst the stars. "Your parents asleep yet?" He asked after a moment.

"Yeah...but Bens still up. I heard him go to the bathroom like 2 seconds ago."

"Mh."

"Hey Henry?"

"What?"

"Do you...remember when we first met?" You asked him, your eyes never looking away from the stars. He thought for a long moment.

"Yeah...I remember."

"Do you?" You looked at him with a chuckle.

"Fuckin' yeah! Of course I do!"

"Oh yeah?! Where'd we meet!?"

"At school!"

"What were you doing!?"

"I-I don't fucking know! Pickin on some kids?"

"Ben, you were picking on Ben!"

"Fuck! Right!" He shouted back you as you smiled at him.

"Then what happened!?" You asked.

"Goddamn it, don't remind me!" He tried to wave you away, but you scooted closer, and closer.

"Say it..."

"No."

"C'mon!" You leaned closer with a smile.

"Fuck off!" He couldn't help but break with a small grin. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and made a small attempt to push you back a little.

"Saaaaay iiiittt!!" You chimed.

"You kicked my ass! Now fuck off!" You pushed you away with a laugh that you shared. You laughed for a moment, reveling in the memory that started your friendship nearly a year ago.

Ben had told you about this little group that bullied him at school. Though you didn't always get along with your little brother, there just was some shit you didn't do. Carving an H into him, was fucking one of them. So, after school one day, you followed Ben and found his tormentors. Whom you confronted, and beat the shit out of. Mostly Henry. Okay...just Henry. You threw your first punch whoch knocked him to the ground. And then you mounted him and began repeatedly punching and hitting and beating him into the ground. His friends watched in horrow until one, you now know as Patrick jumped in. He pulled you away by your torso and held you close to his chest before throwing you away.

Henry got away with a bloodied nose. And for a while, thats what you did to protect your brother. Luckily, you only had to do it once. Because shortly after...rumors started circulating the school. Apparently, some kids saw Butch Bowers hit his son in their car outside of a drug store. Of course gossip flew around the school and it was blown out of purortion. Either way, it was clear, Henry was abused at home. By his cop father no less. And everyone knew it. Some let it go, and expalined his actions off as acting out. Some kids treated him differently, faked sympathy. But you didn't. Sure, you felt bad for the guy, but you still had a little brother to protect.

Thats what caught his eye. You didn't treat him differently. You, treated him like normal...and he liked that about you. So when he stopped bullying your brother, and started talking to you a little nicer...you became close friends.

The two of you fell silent once the laughter ceased. You stared down at his hands which crossed over one another at the wrist as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked back up at the stars.

"He uh...he hurt you tonight?" You asked him. Henry took another long moment to answer.

"Nah but...won't stop him tomorrow."

"I'm sorry..."

"Awh! Don't get soft of me now!" He scolded you playfully.

"Fuck off! I'm just worried about you! Yours dads a fucking prick!"

"Yeah...I know..." Another long pause accured before you spoke again.

"Yknow...you can always spend the night if you don't wanna go home." You offered. It took him a minute to think, and then he looked into your eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure."

"Okay..."

[tamisdava2]

Ok, guys, i am starting something new, i am choosing a theme and you tell me your stories if you’ll ever had such a situation. I’ll tell such a stories too. Because damn, i have nothing to do right now.

And yeah, everyone that will reblog this tag me, cause i am really interested in everyone’s stories. Also, if you’ve heared such a stories from your friends/relatives and etc. i am fine with it too.

Ok, so have you encountered something supernatural? Ghosts and etc.

Welp, i didn’t encounter anything like it. But my sissy did.

I dont even remember how long ago it was, probably 7 years ago, i was 8 or so and my sis 12. So basically me and my family would usually go in summer in Surami and taking a good rest there, since Tbilisi in summer is... Uh... hell, in Tbilisi air is terrible, so terrible that if my family wouldn’t go out of city in summer on time my skin colour would be very terrible, i guess city’s air affected me very badly. So Surami was the place were my mom’s family lived, so it was really great to spent sometime in there, even tho my grandpa back then was dead already for 3 years. I mean, this house holded memories of him, so it was really special to us, especially for mom of course, she grew up there after all. 

So me, mom sissy and my dad went there, we spent day cleaning up the entire house, cause, we and our relatives were staying in Surami only at summer, once in year. And since there wasn’t living anyone in the house for the most of the year, the house was abadoned, the water pipes that got water in the house from water well got old so we had to get the drinking water from the spring.

But back to the ghost or something, so night came then we went to sleep, me, sis and mom slept together, in room where my mom, my aunt and my grandma used to sleep together in one big bed. My father was sleeping in a other room, that was next to ours. Of course 8 years old me would fall asleep very quickly, the same goes to my mom and dad, they were tired. But my sis wasn’t able to fall asleep, because she kept hearing heavy footsteps in the living room, she would’ve thought that our dad was walking there, if she wouldn’t heared dad snoring very loudly all the time while she heared the footsteps. She was scared as f, thats when her imagination started to go wild and she was thinking “What if it is maniac and he’ll chop us all?!” She was really scared so she pretended to be asleep, and there passed a long time before she fell asleep.

Next morning she told everything to mom. Mom at first was skeptical, she said that probably rats or squirrels were walking in ceiling or something. My sis specified that those were heavy footsteps, like, heavy footsteps of a human beign. Then mom asked dad if he heared something like that, he said no. Then my mom talks with my uncle and tells him about it. And he comes from Tbilisi to Surami and he is like “all Mezuzahs are defected, i’ll take them off” aaand he takes every Mezuzah off from every doorway in the house. You see, we are jews, and since i am sure that you wouldn’t know anything about Mezuzah, i’ll expalin it to ya. Mezuzah is a piece of parchment contained in a decorative case and inscribed with the Jewish prayer. The Mezuzah protects the house... From the bad things. The problem is if even one detail of the detail will get defected then the Mezuzah is useless or it can bring harm if i’ll remember it right.(There are alot stories about what happens when Mezuzah gets defected) So, i do remember my uncle saying that it is better to NOT have mezuzah at all than to have the defected one. We were in that house for a week, my sister never heared those footsteps again.

When i heared my sis and mom talk about the footsteps, i thought “What if it is grandpa’s ghost?”(And i am pretty sure right now that if it was ghost it surely wasn’t his ghost) But remebering this story today kind of gives me chills. Also, guess what? Not so long ago i heared from mom my grandpa bought it from a man whose wife died in that house. Grandpa, dont get me wrong, i love you and respect you very much, but, WHY WOULD YOU BUY A HOUSE WHERE SOMEONE DIED?! LIKE, COME ON!

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

This is second one, mom told us it, i mean, she doesn’t remember it, her relatives had told her about it. 

So i amn’t sure about my mom’s and aunt’s age, but they probably were back then 2-3 years old. This happend before my uncle even was born. So before my uncle was born they had little sister, Mzia, she was 1 maximum years old if my mom recalls it right. And here where the stories split in two, making 2 almost different vesrions of the story(that end the same but still) one is by how mom recalled it, before we went to Israel few months ago and she had talked with my great aunt about it. My mom says that my grandma walked to see how Mzia was sleeping, but she found her dead. You see, back then people wrapped babies in clothes, wrapping their legs and hands, so they weren’t able to move, which looks ridicilous if you’ll see some old photos of it. So it looked like someone or something had wrapped this cloth on her neck in way that it chocked her. She turned Mzia on her back and saw a freakin black handprint. My mom also said that it happend to other babies in Surami too.

And there is my great aunt’s version of it, Grandma was feeding Mzia, and she fell asleep, the baby wasn’t breathing, this how she died. But great aunt said that there WAS the black handprint on the Mzia’s back. 

I mean, i belive that Great Aunt’s version is more right, cause probably my mom heared it only once, and they probably tried to avoid to talk about this theme with grandma and grandpa, cause everytime my grandma would remember about Mzia’s accident... Well of course, it would end up with crying.

Anyway guys, how you heared about the black handprints? I wasn’t able to ask mom if it happend only in Surami or it happend around other towns or if it happend in other parts of Georgia or if it happend in somewhere else in Soviet Union. Like, can you ask about this to the older generation? Especially those one who live in post soviet union countries?