#like why is it so jumpy???? america explain

[steakout-05]

very long post about how i as an Australian think the American date structure is silly and confusing under the cut

as an Australian i already think America is pretty funny, like the imperial system is both confusing and incredibly funny to me, but what i really don't get is the way dates are written in America

like.... for context, in Australia, we write days like day/month/year. and i like this because the most important information is the thing you read first. you want to know what day it is, you just look at the first two digits you see and you're done!! in some other counties like Japan and South Korea, they write it like year/month/day, which i also think is ok because it's still in a cohesive and easy to read order. you just go to the end of the date to see what day it is and it's simple!! it's all good! it's easy to read! this is nice!

but for some reason, the dates in America are written like month/day/year and i'm just..... i'm so confused!?!??!? why would you jump to the MIDDLE of the date to see what day it is???? it's so cluttered and jumpy and trying to read it in order is just... kinda irritating. the most important and immediately needed information is shifted to the middle of the date ans then you gotta go back and then jump forward again if you wanna read the whole thing and i'm just. actually bamboozled at that. who did that. who is responsible for that blunder at the workplace. i will find them and i will break their kneecaps and i-

ALSO you have no idea how many times this date format has absolutely screwed up schedules and post dates for me. imagine that there's like an online event or something coming up and they have a schedule for what day they're holding it, but it's just written like 05/03/2024. my Australian ass is going to read that as the 5th of March 2024, but someone in America is gonna read that is the 3rd of May 2024. do you see how confusing this can become. there is zero distinction between the two dates because they're written in the exact same way but have a different structure. this is fine for dates that go over the number 12 or are the same number, but it's still confusing and frustrating, especially when the website doesn't say what timezone setting you're on or won't let you change it (which some of them don't). it's quite a specific issue but it's still an issue and i hate it i don't like it i want it fixed please patch

maybe i just have a more logical way of thinking and i like having things be in order, but goddamn just write your dates properly i can't take it anymore /nsrs

[scribbling-stiks]

Spring - XXXIV - Smoke

Russia’s eyes trail back to the windows.

‘What is that?’

He looks back toward Dixie with a frown. Dixie doesn’t meet his gaze. Russia sighs and looks down.

‘Will we be able to fight it?’

He swallows. He looks up. The calm breeze outside teases him.

‘And win?’

Someone pokes him and Russia whips around to meet their gaze. Ukraine jumps back before laughing lightly, his hands up. Russia sighs in relief.

“You’re jumpy,” Ukraine teases, but his shoulders are tense.

Russia scoffs, trying to shake off the feeling in his chest. The house seems to darken, and heavy static sticks to the walls.

Manitoba looks around, a strange look on their face. Then, they disappear into the crowd of movement as people move about the room. Russia watches the group for a moment before sighing.

The magic sinks into his chest, weighing him down. He shakes his head.

‘It’s thick,’ he notes, ‘heavy.’

“Hey, Dad!” someone shouts.

Russia looks up and sees Wyoming handing America a thick sock and an attachment for his foot. America smiles, sitting in a chair brought over by Oregon, who smiles and signs something Russia couldn’t understand.

“New York says that this should work for now.”

“And Finland?” America asks.

“I’m getting something for her now!” Missouri shouts, waving their prosthetic arm with a determined smile, “It won't be perfect, but-”

“But something is better than nothing,” Rhode Island cuts in.

“Rho! I was talking.”

“Too fucking bad.”

Russia chuckles. America moves and sits down next to Russia.

“So!” Ukraine says from behind his head.

Russia jumps, his hands flying. Ukraine laughs, but it sounds strained.

“What’s going on?” he asks nervously, leaning over the side of the couch, “Someone is coming?”

“Yes,”

“What did you see?” Ukraine asks, poking Russia in the back of the head. Russia flinches again.

“It looked like a wall of magic,” Russia says, scanning the treeline outside, gesturing vaguely, “It had smaller things inside.”

“Like signatures?” Manitoba interjects.

Russia nods.

“That ain’t good,” Alabama says from an adjacent room, poking his head through a doorway.

“Whatchu mean, Bama?”

“That means they’re probably organizin’ this,” Alabama adds, waving his hand.

“Do they know where we are?” Indiana asks somewhere to Russia’s left. Mumbling fills the room, too low to hear.

“Russia,” Massachusetts says, stepping in front of Russia, “I need you to check again.”

Russia nods and closes his eyes. He opens the valve in his chest and immediately chokes.

‘It feels like thick smoke.’

He scrambles to disconnect enough to focus and his eyes spring open. He can barely see Massachusetts’ signature through the dark grey, felted magic filling the space. He looks around, and can’t see America’s blue.

He grumbles anxiously and squints, searching for the smaller concentrations, and spots them in the distance.

They polkadot the area, faded colors at their centers.

‘Other magic users,’ he thinks, a bitter taste in his mouth.

‘They don’t look closer than before.’

He disconnects and leans onto his hands, his eyes closed. His head and limbs feel heavy. His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton.

“What was that?” America asks, panicked.

“What?” he asks, looking up.

“You were frothing at the mouth,” Massachusetts says, his eyes wide and momentarily flashing green.

“Don’t use your magic,” Russia warns, wiping spit from his chin, “I won't be able to give you more.”

Massachusetts flinches a little, stepping back.

“What do you see?” Ukraine pushes, the panic rising out of the undercurrent in his tone.

“The people bringing it here aren’t getting closer,” Russia explains, fighting to talk through brain fog.

“What did they look like?”

“It's other magic users,” Russia says, scowling, ”I can’t see them any more clearly.”

‘Why would they be doing this? And why can I see them better than Meri?’

Then, someone shrieks upstairs.

“Dad!” Louisiana screams.

Russia sits up and hears someone rushing down the stairs, stumbling over the steps. Louisiana rounds the corner and claws at her face, Georgia close behind her.

“Lulu?!” America calls, spinning around.

Russia jumps to his feet, and he hears Ukraine stumble back behind him.

“She needs help!” Georgia shouts.

“What happened?” Russia demands.

“I don’t know!” Louisiana cries, stumbling forward into the room and holding her eyes, “I was just trying to check the magic and I can’t see no more!”

‘Oh no.’

His heart sinks. The room explodes with noise.

“No one else use any magic!” America commands, panic painting his words.

Russia walks forward, the other people in the room parting ways to allow him through. Their faces fill with panic and dread.

Louisiana claws at her face and Georgia guides her forward by her arm. America meets Russia’s eyes, a desperate look on his face.

‘I will see what I can do,’ he promises himself.

Russia steps forward and takes her hands in his.

“Show me,” he says softly.

She removes her hands, and he can see tears streaking down her face. He swallows the lump in his throat. A dull, dark grey shades her eyes and forehead.

“Help me,” she cries.

Russia sighs and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, everything is bathed in a darker grey. The color fills the room, almost like the house is on fire. Russia gasps for breath, his chest heavy with the spoiled magic.

He forces his focus back to Louisiana, who is surrounded in a cloud of magic. It circles her chest and face.

‘Shit.’

His head whips around and spots a familiar green.

‘I need something to clean it out with.’

“Massachusetts,” he calls, “Here. Now.”

Suddenly, a green orb floats beside him through what feels like smoke. He can barely see the outline of Massachusetts’ silhouette. He reaches out, touching Massachusetts’ chest.

Then, he takes a small amount of the green, and he feels the teen jump back slightly. Strings of green float into his hand. He can vaguely hear Massachusetts shout.

The small amount immediately sours, turning dark and the signature dissipates. He scowls. He starts trying to filter it in his palm while reaching out again with the other hand. His head pounds.

‘I have to be faster.’

He starts to separate a few white and green strands, and he sees the aura falter. He swallows back the nausea growing in his stomach.

‘That’s all I can take.’

The magic circles just around Massachusetts, still close enough to stay clean. Then, Russia’s eyes light up.

‘If I keep it close to me, it won't be contaminated.’

He pulls it toward his chest, and the green turns pink. He keeps it close, mixing the other magic strands he was holding. His ribs feel like they tighten, but the grey slowly dissipates.

He holds his hands out and watches the magic for a moment between them. It spins, turning lighter and lighter pink.

He turns his attention to Louisiana.

“Hold out your hands,” he says.

Russia squints his eyes, seeing a vague outline of hands outstretched to him.

He pushes the magic to his chest and takes her hands. He starts moving it closer to his hands, and he watches the pink run down his left arm and climb up her right.

The grey seems to eat it.

‘Please,’ he pleads, ‘I just have to flush this out.’

The grey starts to pulse, darkening in color. The field around her eyes swirls and writhes like a ball of worms. The magic around her chest retracts and expands in a desperate bid to keep its place. She tries to pull away, and he tightens his hands, scowling.

‘You will leave,’ he tells it.

He feeds it more, watching a faint aura form around his hand. Then, he starts drawing from the grey around her. It snaps back, sticking to her. He imagines grabbing it, pulling it toward him, and it begins reluctantly following down her arm and toward his.

It jolts back. His expression darkens.

‘I can fix this.’

Louisiana grips his hands, and he can faintly feel her shaking.

‘It will be okay.’

It stretches like a mass of melting plastic as it tries to snap back around her eyes and chest. His magic starts to surround it, and it beats against it in protest. He can barely see Massachusetts through the fog, hovering nearby. His green flickers.

Small lines of grey meet his hands, and he gags. It weighs on his chest and he pulls it through. His heart pounds in his ears, but it sounds dull.

Russia looks down at his own chest and his eyes narrow. Faint pink meets him, and he watches it trickle down his arm. He looks back at the grey clouds around Louisiana.

‘This has to be enough,’ he thinks desperately, ‘please.’

‘I need to take this off.’

He yanks on the magic, and it pulls free. He watches the last of the pink trace his fingers and the grey rushes to his hand, abandoning its posts. The grey disappears from her and he releases her hands, stumbling back and faintly registering his stomach churning.

He gasps and the world snaps back to solid.

He collapses to his knees and heaves. Burning slithers up his throat, and he chokes. He looks up and sees Louisiana and Massachusetts standing in front of him. Massachusetts says something he can’t understand, and Louisiana shakily steps back, her hands up.

A bucket is shoved under him, and he hugs it to his face. The ringing lowers to normal, and a wall of noise meets him.

“What was that?” Massachusetts asks.

“Are you okay?” Texas asks, his boots steady on the ground.

“I’m okay now,” Louisiana says, her voice shaky.

“Russia?” America asks, and Russia feels a hand on his back.

Russia swallows before gagging, ultimately throwing up a black sludge. The second it's out of his mouth, the heavy, acidic feeling in his chest fades.

He sighs.

“No one else use magic without permission,” he says hoarsely.

“What happened?”

“Something was sticking to her face,” Russia says, wiping his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet, “I flushed it out.”

“Like a curse?” Massachusetts asks.

Russia shrugs.

‘I’m just happy they’re both okay.’

~

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Table of Contents

[shades-of-stony]

Heavy Angst (And Not-So-Heavy but Still Angsty) Stony Fanfics!

I’m absolutely love a good Tony whump and hurt story so prepare to see a lot of those here! Get your tissues ready!

Push by phoenixreal

Summary: Tony Stark was known for pissing people off, it was a given. Then, after the man everyone thought was nothing more than a selfish prick decided to nearly kill himself saving Manhattan from a nuclear bomb, even the most sure of Tony's bastard status had to rethink it. And then, his team who were sure they had him pegged, they were invited (ordered) to move into Stark Tower with him. To their surprise, they found he had furnished full floors for each of them, somehow knowing their tastes exactly, including a floor dedicated to the resident Asgardian who would only be there some of the time. Surprised, and please, they all wonder at the enigma that is their host. After a couple months, Pepper Potts stops coming around so much, and they realize that something has exchanged between them because they are rather professional to each other. Pepper still frets over Tony, but instead tells the others to keep an eye on him rather than doing it herself. They easily forget that Tony is, and always has been, simply a human civilian. Then things get strange when they find themselves locked down within Stark tower, and after a harrowing viewing of a mysterious video, they find their resident playboy is completely gone.

Note: Prepare to cry and be hurt! This fanfic dabbles with Tony’s insecurity, self-worth, and issues. Please heed the warnings!

The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159

Summary: After the SHRA, the events around Steve’s death and Tony discovering he deleted part of his brain, Tony finally decides he's done enough. With Osborn taken care of, Tony leaves the Avengers and decides to quit being Ironman effective immediately.

He tells himself it doesn't hurt when Steve agrees. Why should it? After everything he's done, the team's better off without him.

However before he can truly move on, there are things he needs to take care of, and it's not long before he realizes he's dangerously close to losing his company. He's desperate and willing to do anything to keep it together.

So when, after months of silence, Steve asks him to drop everything and come work for Shield, Tony finds he doesn't have a choice. He agrees, no matter how much he knows he shouldn't. His reputation isn't exactly the best after the SHRA and he's heard stories of what he'd done as Director. He's knows what he's done. He's knows he's responsible for what happened to Steve.

He just wishes someone had warned him first. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the consequences.

Note: A 1000/10 angst fanfic that made me weep at 3 am in the morning. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. READ IT AND PREPARE TO CRY BUCKETS

Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches

Summary: Friday's primary objective at all times is to protect one Anthony Edward Stark. And she will fulfill that objective no matter what it takes. Even if it means including certain people she thought she would never have to deal with again.

(Basically the Rogue Avengers get some sense knocked into them with the help of Friday and handful of videos.)

Note: A HIGHLY RECOMMENDED ANGSTY FANFIC. I CRIED SO MUCH READING THIS. 

Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki

Summary: "I DID!" Tony screamed, cutting Steve off mid-sentence and whirling around to glare at him. 

"I CALLED YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"

Or

The one where no one answered their phone and things got out of hand. 

Note: this will absolutely break you heart.

Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2

Summary: Months after Siberia, Steve and the rest of the defectors are pardoned and allowed back onto the Avengers, with the help of Tony Stark. Now that they're back - nothing is the same as before. Tony is even avoiding Steve at all costs.

Then one night - Tony barges into Steve's bedroom while he sleeps, and they have spontaneous, passionate sex.

Only, the Tony Stark he just fucked isn't from this universe.

Now, Steve has to find a way to explain to Tony that he had sex with his counterpart from another dimension.

Note: A good Steve whump fic! 

When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up

Summary: During an event with the Avengers, Tony is kidnapped by an unknown group of men right in front of the team. The group who took Tony taunt the Avengers by leaving small clues to Tony's whereabouts. When the kidnappers finally get in contact with the team, they are forced to watch Tony get tortured on camera.

The Avengers desperately search for their missing friend before they never see him again.

The kidnappers are smart and fast, they have everything figured out in order to get away with their plan...They just forgot one thing--

Colonel James Rhodes

Note: Now this is really heavy! Brace yourselves for a kidnapped and tortured tony! Also, protective honey bear aka Rhodey bonus here!

To Need is Not To Want by Brixon

Summary: All his life Tony has been used as a means to someone's end. Always someone's tool in a game. Carelessly thrown aside, once they had no longer use of him. He keeps it bottled up because, because he's Tony Stark. But he's always had this desire that one day someone would come who would stay because they wanted and needed him. He thought he had that with the Avengers, but after everything with the Accords and everyone leaving after Civil War that hope of having something of his to stay was gone.

Despite being burned constantly, Tony still has this wanting. So when Ryder, an old college friend, comes back into his life and actually seems to want to stay because he wants AND needs Tony, Tony is beyond thrilled. Because Ryder is staying. It doesn't matter if the bruises stay too.

But what happens when the Avengers return and Tony finds himself wondering once again exactly what he wants and what he needs.

Note: I’m sure, from the summary, you can tell that it’s a heartbreak here. 

Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't by audhds

Summary: Tony hasn't been the same since Bucky arrived at Stark Tower. That much is obvious. But Steve is overjoyed to have his best friend back and is somewhat oblivious to how Tony is withdrawing away from him. Because surely Tony is just overworked as usual. He must be quiet and jumpy because he is sleep deprived. And of course he has a few cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his skin - he fights and works for the Avengers as a living. It's part of the job description. Until it isn't.

Will Steve discover the physical and mental trauma that Tony is going through before it is too late?

Note: This is even heavier! Please read the tags carefully! Also, this has some serious Bucky bashing! If you are a Bucky fan but still interested in this, please prepare yourself. 

No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek

Summary: Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.

Note: A bit lighter than the others but still angst nonetheless. The added truth serum element makes this even more interesting!

Good For You by @orbingarrow

Summary: Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

Note: Another Tony-in-abusive-relationships fanfic!!

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Note: Anyone up for some Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfic?

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Note: De-aged Tony just screams heavy angst and hurt!

Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Incursions are coming. The Illuminati have surrendered and everyone has come together to take one last stand.

Everyone except Tony. And Steve is tired of waiting. He wants answers.

There's something the Illuminati aren't telling him.

Note: If you don’t know what the Avalon is in Marvel, I recommend you search it up, or you could read this fic. You will be heartbroken with what you find. 

Flower Child by itsallAvengers

Summary: The point was this, though:

In a hundred million universes, in a hundred million different lives, there would never be a single one of them in which Tony Stark deserved anyone like Steve Rogers. Ever.

So this? Nonsensical.

Note: Another fanfic that highlights child abuse and Tony’s insecurities! 

What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek

Summary: No one is supposed to survive the date written on their skin. And yet Tony's numbers keep piling up.

Note: Angst + Death dates? You could probably foretell how much of a gut-wrench journey this is.

Falling Into You by sabrecmc

Summary: Tony and Steve end up as fuck buddies after the events of The Winter Soldier until Steve calls it off. When Loki's spell wipes all of Steve's memories since the last time Loki was in town, Tony decides it will be so much easier to just not tell Steve they had something of a relationship. Spoiler: It isn't.

Or, how Steve fell in love with Tony and forgot about it, and how Tony fell in love with Steve and realized it.

Note: There are just something about amnesia fanfics that makes it so goddamn heartbreaking. 

Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil

Summary: Tony Stark had made himself a phenomenally renowned writer. The world had fallen in love with the heroes that appeared in his novels; captivated by his vivid words of life and colour.

His next ambition was to publish a comic book series starring the much-beloved heroes of his novels. There was just one problem. Brilliant as Tony may have been with his words, his skills in the field of drawing were less than great. It didn’t help that he barely knew what his characters ought to look like in the first place.

Enter: Mister Steve Rogers – an up-and-coming artist/illustrator with the potential to be brilliant.

Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.

Note: this is a much lighter angsty fanfic but is still angsty. It is a Modern AU mixed with Artist!Steve and Writer!Tony.

Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl

Summary: Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn't really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.

Note: Of course, you can’t have an angst fanfic rec without a fake death fanfic!

WIP

Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159

Summary: A month has gone by since the war and Tony has never felt more alone. of course, with the unrest within the government, the disappearance of the Avengers and the obvious lack of Steve Rogers, it was only a matter of time before the UN finally flipped out and decided to act on the last available Avenger. Too bad they didn't realise a promise had been made by Captain America to be there when Iron man needed him.

Note: a gut-wrenching Post CA:CW fanfic where tony is suffering the consequences of the civil war.

Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159

Summary: When Steve gets invited to a formal party with the government, Fury tells him he can bring a plus one of his choosing. While listening quietly in the corner, Tony heaves a sigh of relief because the team could really do with some positive publicity and any of the Avengers are a good choice for Steve. Tony just wants Steve to be happy after all, even if he knows Steve's gonna pick Natasha. He knows Steve doesn't like him and he's aware there's never going to be anything more between them. They're barely even friends really.

So of course he's absolutely shocked when a gold filigree letter rests in his palms two days later. He's the worst person for this.

Why on earth did Steve choose him?

Note: AHHHHHHHH, INSECURE TONY IS JUST A FAVORITE. Also, confident!Steve that knows who he wants is just a whole new mood!

The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159

The soul stone demands a sacrifice that Tony and Steve are not prepared for, but in the end, one life is sacrificed for the many. Steve lets Tony go for the last time and mourns a future they never had.

That is until Tony comes back.

Note: A scenario where Tony and Steve where the ones to go to Vormir. 

[remedywriter]

Till The End Of Time.

Issue 4

(Steve Rogers x fem!OC)

A/N: Sorry for the wait for the next update. I was helping some friends with some moving things.

Warnings: Mentions of H.Y.D.R.A.

The next morning, Brooke was up and ready about thirty minutes earlier than usual. She knew it was pointless to hide her excitement. Who wouldn't be excited to have lunch with Captain America? She just hoped she wouldn't have to leave early for work. She had the day off, but you could never be certain in her line of work.

Brooklyn tried to relax herself. She was never this jumpy and awkward around people. It felt weird to her. She didn't want to seem like one of those girls who purposely tries to be awkward and typically just come off as annoying. It was hard though. Never before had she ever really cared about a date like this. She didn't know if it was because of Steve Rogers, or Captain America.

Eventually, Brooke simmered down and went back to her usual self. Eddie, however, was absolutely ecstatic. He wouldn't stop bothering her with questions. Eventually she had to leave their apartment to get away from it. She loved her cousin, but sometimes she needed a little peace and quiet. Brooke woke up early though, so it wasn't time for her to have her lunch with Steve. So she went on a walk in the general direction of where she would eventually meet him.

After a little awhile, Brooke called Steve to find out where exactly he wanted to meet her.

"Hello?" Steve asked.

"Hey, I just wanted to double check on where we're meeting." Brooke explained.

"I could pick you up from your apartment, if you would like?" Steve suggested.

"No!" Brooke exclaimed. "Sorry. My roommate is a bit.... filthy."

Steve chuckled from the other end of the line. "Ok."

"How about your place?" Brooke asked. "Unless you're not comfortable telling me where you live. Although, who would be stupid enough to break into Captain America's apartment?"

"You'd be surprised." Steve laughed. "And yeah, I'll see if I can text you the address."

"Ok." Brooke agreed. "Bye." She then hung up.

Steve looked at his phone and clicked on his messages. He chose the number and then sent his address to it.

[Steve? What is this?] Came the reply.

[It's my address.] He explained.

[I get that. But why are you sending it to me?!?! I'm in Europe on an assignment. I don't have time for this!]

Steve thought for a minute before responding.

[Who is this?]

[Sam.]

Steve sighed and watched as Sam continued writing.

[This is why I told you to make contacts.]

[I try to memorize numbers. That way I don't have to rely on my phone alone to contact someone.] Steve answered.

[Well figure something out cause I'm very busy at the moment!] Sam replied.

Steve then switched the phone number to the one he hoped was actually Brooke's.

[Is this Brooklyn Barlowe?] He asked.

[Yes.] Came the reply.

Steve sighed in relief and sent the address. Brooke sent back a thumbs up. Steve smiled and laughed to himself. He figured Sam was right and that he should put contacts into his phone. The only problem was he didn't know how to do so. He figured he'd wait a couple weeks for Sam to get back and then ask him. He was too embarrassed to ask Brooke how to do it. It was just one more thing he would have to learn how to do.

Brooklyn made her way to the apartment building the address lead to. She went up the few flights of stairs to Steve's apartment. Before she knocked on the door, she unlocked her phone and checked her appearance in the camera. Brooke never cared about her appearance when she was a kid, but when she joined the military and saw people go back home with scars and missing appendages, it made her starts caring. It made her start to appreciate her appearance. She was beautiful. She needed to be grateful that she still was.

After making sure she looked ok, Brooke put her phone in her bag and knocked on the door.

Inside, Steve was pacing still getting ready. They were just going to lunch, but being old fashioned, he still wanted to look nice even for a casual meeting.

"Just a second!" He yelled.

He walked out of his room and into the living room. Bucky was there sitting on the couch. He was watching TV while eating some of Steve's food.

"Who's at the door?" Bucky asked.

"Someone I met the other day." Steve replied.

Bucky got up and walked over to the door. He looked through the peepholeand saw Brooke. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No." Steve answered.

"Can she be mine?" Bucky smirked.

"She's not my girlfriend, but we are going to lunch. And maybe this might lead to an official date." Steve smiled.

"Well I'm happy for you." Bucky said. "After seventy years, you might finally get a girlfriend."

"I've had a girlfriend before. What about Peggy?" Steve asked.

"You said you didn't even get to go on one date!" Bucky laughed. "Doesn't count."

"Fine. So what if she is my first girlfriend?" Steve questioned.

"Than you're not making the best first impression by leaving her out there." Bucky pointed out. "Wait. You said you met her the other day. Was it related to the mission you went on?"

"Yes. She's a detective. She was contacted by S.H.I.E.L.D. for assistance after it didn't end so well." Steve explained.

"Is there any chance she could be H.Y.D.R.A.?" Bucky questioned.

"No. She doesn't work for S.H.I.E.L.D. directly. They just needed a little help on a case that wasn't important enough to get anyone else's attention. She's incredible though." Steve said.

"I'm sure she is." Bucky laughed. "You gonna get the door?"

"Right!" Steve ran over and opened the door up for her. "Hello."

"Hey. You look.... straight out of 40s movie." Brooke laughed. "But I like it."

Steve smiled. Bucky was just standing there, waiting for an introduction. Since Steve wasn't paying attention though, Bucky tried to get him to.

"Ahem." Bucky mumbled.

"Sorry. Brooke, this is my best friend, Bucky Barnes. Bucky, Brooklyn Barlowe." Steve explained.

"Nice to meet you." Brooke smiled.

"Likewise." Bucky replied.

"Shall we get going?" Steve asked.

"Sure." Brooke nodded.

[favefandomimagines]

Least Deserving (d.m.)

Summary: you’d been by Draco’s side since fifth year. and you knew of his demons but he didn’t seem to want the help you were offering.

AN: i really wanted this to have a really angsty not happy ending but i really couldn’t do that lol also wrote this in 20 minutes, my inspo was one tree hill tbh

i wanted to write something that was realistic. sometimes people can’t help their partners when it comes to trauma and sometimes people don’t want to be helped and that effects relationships way more than we think.

You and Draco had been a team since your fifth year at Hogwarts. You were always friends before that but then something clicked once puberty happened and feelings got involved. 

He asked you to the Yule Ball and everything changed after that moment. Draco was never the type of person who was open about their feelings. It took a lot of time and patience until he finally decided to tell you if anything was wrong. 

It got worse after the war ended. He was paranoid and jumpy, afraid that Death Eaters will come out of the woodwork and kill him for betraying them in the end. His PTSD and paranoia didn’t stop you from loving him. 

You were going through your own issues as well when it came to post-war life but you also knew Draco was going through the ringer. 

And him not liking being vulnerable led to his temper being one no one wanted to trigger. So you tried to offer him your help when you could see he was struggling worse than most days. 

You ‘prying’ led to him getting angry and saying how you need to give him space or he won’t get better. But you’ve been giving him all the space in the world and you didn’t know how else to help him anymore. 

After Hogwarts, you became a healer at St. Mungo’s. You were quite successful in your work. So much so, they offered you a position at St. Jouge’s Hospital for the Ailing and Maimed in New York City. 

You thought it was the perfect opportunity for you and Draco to both get away from the demons and reminders of the war. You hoped that you would get the Draco you fell in love with back if you left London. 

The evening you found out about your job, you arrived back to your home that you shared with Draco. You were excited to tell him the news but a bit nervous as to how he would take it. 

You opened the door and the inside was dark. You knew Draco was home because his jacket was on the hook by the front door. 

“Draco?” You called, placing your wand on the table. You progressed further down the hallway and peeked through the crack in the doorway of your bedroom. 

Draco was sitting on the bed, staring at the dark mark that was seared into his forearm. You pushed the door open, causing it to creak and Draco stood up defensively, wand pointed at you. 

“Hey, it’s just me.” You said, hands raised in defense. “Y/N,” He started, lowering the wand and sitting back down. “Are you alright?” You asked. “I’m fine.” He said with a small scoff. “This doesn’t look fine. What were you planning to do if I hadn’t walked in?” You questioned. 

For months, Draco had been talking about trying to get rid of the dark mark. How he would do anything to get rid of the reminder of a very dark period of his life. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything, Y/N.” He snapped. “Draco, talk to me. Please.” You begged. “There’s nothing to talk about!” Draco yelled. You were used to him lashing out so you didn’t have much of a reaction. 

“What if we leave? Go to America and just, start fresh? Or at least until we’re ready to come back.” You suggested. 

Draco looked up at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. It looked as if he was almost disgusted with you. “I can’t just leave, Y/N. No matter where I go, this mark will follow me. It’ll always be a reminder of what I did.” He replied. “You never understand! You try to help me but you don’t understand what I’m going through!” Draco added. 

Now it was your turn to look at him in disgust. “I don’t understand?” You questioned. “I, don’t understand what you’re going through? I lost my best friend in that war. Lost my parents because everyone thought they were members of the Order.” You sneered. 

You rolled up your own sleeve and revealed the scar that was on your arm. Draco flinched away from the sight of the injury. “Your aunt carved ‘blood traitor’ into my skin after she tortured Hermione. And you say I don’t understand?” You said, voice rising. 

“All I want to do is help you, Draco.” You finished. “You can’t help me! So stop trying when you’re going to fail!” He yelled.

You squeezed your eyes shut causing a few stray tears to fall but you quickly wiped them away. Though Draco noticed. 

“I got offered a position at St. Jogue’s Hospital in New York City. I think I’m going to take it.” You whispered. “What?” He questioned. “We aren’t good for each other anymore. I don’t deserve how you’ve been treating me, after all I do is love you and care about you.” You explained. 

“I need to go. I love you, Draco, but I need to go find someone who lets me in. It’s been three years since the war. No amount of guilt can change the past and no amount of anxiety can change the future.” You spoke. 

An eerie, uncomfortable silence fell upon the bedroom as Draco avoided your gaze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, Draco. Maybe someone else will.” You concluded. 

Draco didn’t move from the spot he was standing in. Not until he heard the front door slam shut. Only then did the reality of the situation sink in. He pushed you closer and closer to the edge every time he didn’t let you in. And he finally pushed you over. He lost you.

__

It had been two months since you had moved to America. You were quite lonely though, the flat you were given being a little too big for just you. Originally, you had told them you and your boyfriend would both be living there. You hadn’t had time to tell them the plan changed. 

So you a got a dog. A little Scottish Terrier that you named Fred. After your late best friend who the world lost in the war. You told Ginny and Hermione it was because your home was too big. 

But they knew it was a distraction from Draco. Having work plus a dog gave you enough distractions so you only thought about him a few times. Though you loved your little companion, it didn’t replace the aching you felt anytime you found yourself thinking of Draco. 

You had just gotten home from an overnight shift at St. Jouge’s, going through your mail as Fred was running down the hall from your bedroom. 

“Freddie, you know you’re not supposed to go into my room when I’m not home.” You lightly scolded the little dog. But then you realized that you always leave your bedroom door closed. 

With furrowed eyebrows you walk down the hall, wand outstretched and peered into your bedroom. You thought you were hallucinating due to lack of sleep but there he stood. Platinum blonde hair askew, wrinkled black dress shirt and his usual pair of black dress pants. 

“D-Draco?” You stammered. He turned around you could clearly see the change in his appearance. He was pale, very thin and looked like he hadn’t had a goodnights sleep in weeks. “How did you get in here?” You questioned. 

“Alohamora.” He said quietly. “Now, why are you here?” You asked. “I’m sorry. For how I treated you. As if you weren’t dealing with your own things because of all we’ve lost. I didn’t mean to push you away and I don’t have any excuses as to why I treated you the way I did.” Draco answered. “Can you try to at least explain? Why you were so awful to me when all I wanted was to be there for you?” You questioned. 

“I was scared. I was scared that you would look at this stupid mark everyday and have to be reminded of everything I took from you. Lavender, your parents, what my aunt did. I don’t want our life to be surrounded with everything that happened. Everything that I’ve done.” He said. 

You took a few careful steps towards him but not too close. “You took nothing from me, Draco. You were just a boy in a world you didn’t understand nor belong in. I could never blame you for what happened. And I know he threatened you with my life if you didn’t do it.” You said. 

Draco looked at you with a shocked expression, wondering how you knew about the threat that was made against your life. “How did you-” He started. “Harry. He heard what you said at the Astronomy tower that night.” You cut him off. 

Just like it did two months ago, the room fell into a silence. Draco sat down on the edge of your bed and put his head in his hands. You saw his body shake slightly and heard a muffle sob come from his lips. 

“I need help, Y/N. And I can’t do it without you.” He whispered. You had waited so long to hear him say that and admit that he needed help. You walked over and sat down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder. “And I’ll be here.” You replied. “I think moving to New York is a good idea.” He told you. 

Draco looked up at you and you could see the small glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I think that’s best.” You said. “I missed you.” He whispered. “I missed you too. I bought a dog not to miss you.” You laughed.

“That reminds me, I’m not a dog person.” Draco said. “That’s a lie. Your father just wouldn’t let you have one.” You said. “What’s its name?” He asked. Draco quickly regretted that question when a slightly sad smile appeared on your face. “Fred. It felt right.” You said. 

Draco wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. “I love you, Y/N.” He said. “And I love you, Draco.” You replied. 

The two of you sat in that position for quite sometime. Both of you ready to get the help that the two of you needed. 

[ilonga]

so I watched Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness last night and I have some thoughts:

Overall, I enjoyed it a lot more and I thought it was a lot better than Spider-Man NWH, the last MCU movie I watched. DS:MoM was a fairly entertaining watch overall. But I definitely agree with the comments I’ve seen that it... isn’t that great of a movie? The dialogue feels quite stilted, the plot jumpy and forced, and none of the characters particularly compelling except for Wanda, who’s just mainly fun to watch as the villain. That being said, the things I liked:

- Wanda: I was one of the people who was rooting for her to be revealed as the villain when Wandavision was originally airing because she’d be epic as an antagonist--and she was. Loved how unhinged she was here.

- The Multiverse hopping: YES PLEASE LITERALLY MY FAVORITE TROPE. The Captain Carter cameo was spoiled for me beforehand and I did enjoy it, but WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT MARIA RAMBEAU AS CAPTAIN MARVEL!!! PERFECTION!!! SHE WAS SO BADASS!!! so glad to see my girl maria again, I missed herrr

- America Chavez: She was pretty fun! I think the movie could have made her more compelling but it is what it is. I liked her moms and I liked that her arc was left concluded but pretty open ended. Was the last battle with Wanda a little cheesy? Yeah, but not in an annoying way (to me, at least). More in a “yeah, I saw that coming” sort of way. I do wish we had gotten a bit more character work for her in a more natural way--the memory lane just suddenly revealing her backstory was really contrived.

- Wong: Icon. 

Things I didn’t like/was more ambivalent about:

- Dialogue: Felt super forced. Especially the jarring switches between “Marvel joke-y mode” and seriousness. A lot of the dialogue sounded a hell of a lot better in the trailer than it did in the actual movie.

- Plot: Mehhhhhhh

- Doctor Strange: He’s just... not a super compelling character. They kind of tried to give him a character arc here with him having to learn to open up and “being afraid of being vulnerable” and his whole “unhappiness” schtick but like... didn’t really put in the effort to see it through. And LMAO @ him getting a “not like other girls” moment 

- Also the Multiverse: They should have done SO MUCH more with it. This movie marketed itself as “different in tone from previous marvel movies” but it really wasn’t. At all. Why couldn’t they have thrown in more sci-fi/speculative stuff? What was stopping them? Another thing is that the movie forgets its own rules: if one of the rules of multiversial travel is that you “don’t know anything”, why would Doctor Strange assume that both he and Sinister Strange had a sister? What guarantees that? What guarentess that the sister died in both universes, and in the same way, at that? What even guarantees that every Doctor Strange became a doctor, and acquired his powers the same way? And joined the fight against Thanos? Just like... this movie is very tame in regard to the multiverse aspect which is disappointing.

- The horror aspect: Listen I’m a person who REFUSES to watch any horror but come on, this movie was so tame. WHERE was the spooky. WHERE. There was just a hint of horror-ish vibes, there could have been so much MORE

- Also Wanda?? I’m a bit conflicted on this. While I LOVED seeing her as an unhinged villain, it was definitely a complete 180 from where her character arc in Wandavision left her. It didn’t feel like a very natural turn of her character, more like she acted the way she did because it was plot-necessary. They just hopped from Point A from Point B with her and didn’t really explain how she got there other than “Darkhold corruption *hand-wave*”. And I don’t actually mind that all that much but what’s sticking on my mind now is that it undercuts Monica’s arc in Wandavision a ton, and Monica has a movie coming up soon. In Wandavision, Monica’s empathy and faith in Wanda is rewarded and proven right, and she wins because of it. Hayward is wrong to not listen to her, and villainous for his callous treatment of her, the trio, and of Wanda. But now this movie kind of... ends up doing the opposite? I hope it doesn’t impact Monica’s character too badly but idk at this point

- The action scenes: I know this isn’t a movie that’s intended to have impressive looking fight scenes since most of it is cgi magic but still... a lot of it looked awkward

- Sinister Strange: So... why did he decide to go around murdering Doctor Stranges? How did we get from Point A (all Doctor Stranges are depressed) to Point B (I must murder them for funsies). Not to mention that the battle between them was out-of-nowhere (why are they fighting with music? is this meant to be comedic?)

- Oh yeah and there was a lot of stopping and staring when characters were being chased. What was up with that.

- The Illuminati: WHY WOULD THEY CALL THEM THAT IT SOUNDS SO DUMB anyways. Their logic about Doctor Strange was... super inconsistent. “We have to kill our Doctor Strange because he’s a threat so we’ll keep him around until Thanos is defeated then murder him with his permission” to “this new Doctor Strange is also a threat because he’s a Doctor Strange even if he’s from the multiverse and we have no idea what his universe is likeso we should kill him” to “everyone makes mistakes :)” like. what. And their deaths were super glossed over. Like this universe’s Avengers were all just murdered and they’re pretty fucked now but we’re just gonna ignore that for the rest of the movie. RIP Earth 838 sucks to be you I guess. 

- America opened her first portal and lost her mothers because of a bee. I’m sorry but that’s too comedic to work as a serious moment. Definitely a jarring scene in terms of tone and they could have done a lot better with that moment.

- Christine: I’m fully ambivalent about her. 

And also there’s no way Wanda’s dead. 

Can’t think of anything else at the moment but yeah. Overall a 6 or 7/10 I’d say. Definitely a much more fun watch then NWH, because NWH was just infuriating.

[starmieknight]

Gray Morning, Golden Home

Pairing: (poly) Jeongguk x Jimin x Taehyung x Original Character, [background OT7 implied]

Summary: (Indulgent fluff without much plot) Hari has a quiet morning with her magical boyfriends and their many, many familiars.

Contents: soft, magic!au, college/university!au, fluff without plot, jimin is a troll, jeongguk is a good boyfriend, taehyung is soft, oc is whipped, there are so many pets/familiars i had to make a sidenote to keep up with them all

The morning was cold and gray and damp.

Hari grumbled, still half-asleep as she buried her face in the folds of her comforter. The pale morning light was shining through the gap in her curtain, not warm, but piercing and cool. She was a fan of mornings like these, but still didn’t like to wake up any earlier than she had too. 

Fortunately, it was the weekend and she wasn’t forced from the comfort of her bed by any alarms or pressing arrangements to get to class or work on time.

Hari could hear Bass yelling in the kitchen, the little cat demanding her breakfast as the dogs ran around the linoleum. There was a pause from the cat and the sound of cat food being poured into a dish. She could hear Jeongguk quietly scolding Holly and shooing him away to his own bowl. 

Hari snorted. Rapmon was the one that needed looking after the most when it came to stealing cat food. He was one of the biggest of their bunch, but quite sneaky when he put his mind to it.

She sat up, taking a moment to just stretch and sit quietly while she continued to wake up. Kkanji was laying by her feet, the older cat snoozing quietly with her fluffy tail over her face. Hari smiled at her, amused that Taehyung’s familiar was sleeping with her instead of her own. But Bass was an unusual type and wasn’t one to wait around for Hari to drag herself out of bed when there was food to be had - or other coven members to bully.

Kkanji ‘murrrped’ at her as Hari ran a hand down her soft back, startling the cat awake. A soft purr filled the room as the sleepy witch lavished the familiar with affection before pulling herself out of bed.

The door next to Hari’s was still closed and she could hear Taehyung snoring inside. She cracked it open to take a peak. Three heads popped up from various points on the bed, Soonshim’s eyes glowing in the darkness for a moment before he recognized Hari’s scent. He opened his mouth to let his tongue loll out and his tail thumped against the bed. Yeontan and Sangdol scrambled out of Taehyung’s arms to jump up against her legs for her attention. Soonshim rose and stretched before leaping out of the bed and following the group at a more sedate pace.

“C’mon, guys.” Hari urged them into the kitchen. “Breakfast time.”

Jeongguk looked up at her as she and her entourage entered the kitchen, the dog’s nails clicking against the floor to announce them. He smiled sleepily at her and Hari felt her heart give its familiar jump at the sight. Even after months of exposure, she still had a hard time controlling her feelings.

Holly and Rapmon left his feet and their bowls for a moment to greet Hari and the other dogs before hurrying back. Bass only flicked her ears to acknowledge her witch, too concerned with her breakfast to do much more. Kkanji hurried into the kitchen behind the rest, quietly looking between Jeongguk and Hari to see who would feed her first.

Only Gureum, Mickey and Jjangu were missing from the bunch, the latter pair no doubt dogging Jimin as he got ready, the oldest of the familiars rather clingy to the temporary leader of the coven while the eldest members were away.

Hari was still nervous about how the atmosphere of the house would change when the rest of the boys returned home. Her joining of the coven hadn’t been planned and was an unusual one, given that she hadn’t even met everyone in it yet.

But the way that Jeongguk smiled so warmly at her and opened his arms to usher her in for a hug made her relax, stepping into his embrace like she was coming home. Her head was tucked under his chin and he smelled like a silly mix of Mountain Dew and faint sweet perfume and laundry detergent. She hummed contently.

“You were up all night binging that game again, weren’t you?” Hari asked in amusement, wondering where he found the energy to still pull all-nighters when she could barely make it through the day sometimes. Gureum’s mysterious absence hinted at a magical boost, the little dog likely recharging after helping Jeongguk stay up all night. “How are you awake still?”

“I’m gonna go take a nap after breakfast.” Jeongguk promised before she could scold him. “I figured I could go ahead and cook for you guys since I was already up. Jimin-hyung’s in the shower.”

“Tae’s still asleep.”

“I’ll wake him up when the food’s ready.” There was a vague, tingling feeling in the air that always preceded the use of magic, and the cabinets opened. Jeongguk’s eyes glowed slightly as he pulled plates and utensils out, four sets of tableware floating to the table.

Hari was slightly jealous of his ability, her own magic still too unrefined and imbalanced for her to feel safe with object manipulation like Jeongguk could. It was basic magic skills and her lack of magical upbringing made her own magical education somewhat lacking.

Hopefully Namjoon could teach her control and fundamentals when the rest of the boys returned home. Jimin said he’d offered to help her when they had their last phone call. It wouldn’t take much longer for their coven to be complete again now that the older coven members were no longer looking for the answer to their curse breaking.

There was a squeak from down the hall as the water shut off and Hari realized in the sudden silence that Jimin had been in the shower the entire time. She squeezed Jeongguk once more before letting him return to breakfast and she sat down on a barstool to watch him.

He was quiet and focused, having already set up several smaller side dishes while he cooked enough jeon for everyone. The smell of frying potatoes made Hari’s mouth water and reminded her of the hashbrowns her mom used to make for breakfast back home. Having grown up around her mom’s mostly white family in America and their set ideas of breakfast, the way the boys made their breakfast was still a bit odd to her, especially since most of the time it didn’t feel like breakfast to her.  Hari enjoyed it and was reminded of the few times she’d had breakfast with her paternal grandfather. Luckily for her, Jeongguk listened to her better than her grandfather and remembered her extreme dislike of fried eggs.

Set aside from the boys’ larger dish, was a nice little bowl of scrambled eggs, just for Hari.

Her chest felt warm and content.

Bass, finally finished with her breakfast, brushed up against Kkanji and Rapmon on her way to Hari, jumping into her witch’s lap. Bass’s funny, broken purr was loud in the kitchen as the young cat aggressively showered Hari with love, headbutting the witch’s chin so hard it seemed like she was trying to become one with her.

Hari laughed and scratched the scraggly cat under the chin, ducking down to give Bass better access to her face and receive love.

She nearly fell out of her chair when another head bumped into her own. Jimin caught her easily, laughing at her reaction and keeping her on top of her stool.

“Yah!” she scolded, slapping his shoulder. “You scared me half to death! And you’re dripping all over me!”

Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with mirth as he shoved his head into her neck, making her squeal as her neck was soaked by his wet hair. His silver locks were nearly gray when wet and left cold trails against her skin as he mimicked Bass. The feline familiar was only too delighted with his actions and redoubled her efforts, trying her best to headbutt them both at the same time.

Jimin only pulled back when the cat stuck her nose in his eye.

“Sorry, Hari-ah.” the silver haired man apologized, not looking the least bit remorseful. “I saw my chance and I had to take it.”

“He’ll be worse when you and Hobi-hyung are together.” Jeongguk warned, looking amused. “You guys are both the jumpy type and Jimin-hyung is a troll.”

“You say that like you’re any better,” Hari snorted, leaning back from Bass. The cat promptly lost interest in her and went to harass the dogs.

Mickey scuttered away from her to hide behind Jjangu and Rapmon, still wary of the excitable cat. Hari had to admit that Bass could be a bit of a bully to the smaller dogs if they let her. The witch scooped the Shi Tzu up into her arms for safety.

“I’m a selkie,” Jimin protested, whipping his towel at Jeongguk. “And the fact that you’d compare this face to a troll just proves that you need glasses.”

“Okay, Jin-hyung.” Jeongguk mocked, referencing some trait of the oldest coven member that Hari didn’t understand yet.

Jimin grinned at the joke and ducked down to kiss Hari so quickly that she barely had time to register it, her ears going red as he sauntered over to the stove. “Want me to finish this up? I’m not volunteering to wake Taetae up today.”

“I’ll get him.” Hari volunteered, carrying Mickey with her down the hall. “Gukkie’ll just roll him down the hall when he doesn’t wake up.”

“You just want to make out with Tae without us.” Jeongguk teased, fake-pouting with Jimin.

Hari lifted a hand to flip them off as she rounded the corner, the sound of their laughter trailing after her.

The room was still dark and the air conditioning was blowing a steady stream of cold air in, making it the ideal sleeping setting. It was no wonder why Taehyung slept so well and deeply. 

Hari made a mental note to take more naps with him in his room, the atmosphere just different from her own room in a cozy way. She used her own room for too many things besides sleeping, not having a playroom or art room like the other boys had. From what she understood of the unexplored rooms, the older members of the coven had private workrooms too - music studios and offices, Jimin had explained when she first started living with them.

Maybe in time, she’d ask them to add a room for her too. It would be fun to watch the magic they put into the house bloom.

Hari wondered how the house would sell one day if they ever wanted to move, having so much space inside when it looked so small on the outside. She loved it.

Taehyung snuffled and turned his face into the pillow as Hari pulled the covers back, sliding into the warm space between him and the edge of the bed. The smell of lavender and freshly washed sheets surrounded her, making Hari glad she and Jeongguk had finished the laundry recently. Taehyung procrastinated in changing his sheets too much for her taste, something she learned early on in their relationship.

He turned his head, still asleep but drawn to her warmth. Hari smiled and tucked herself into his side, kissing the edge of his jaw lightly. Taehyung’s lips twitched up into a slight smile, his eyelids fluttering a bit at the new sensation. Hari pressed another kiss to his jaw before starting a trail up to his cheek, his nose and finally his lips. She felt them curl beneath her own and had to pull back when her own smile grew too big to continue kissing him.

Taehyung hummed, trying to chase after her. Hari kissed him again quickly and rubbed a hand over his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging lightly at his hair like she knew he enjoyed. He sighed at the feeling, finally cracking his eyes open to look at her.

“Good morning.” Hari said simply, laying her head on the pillow next to his. She could spend every morning like this, lazy in love with her boys and exchanging hugs and kisses freely. 

It was harder to do outside the house where she was only openly dating Taehyung and left longing to hold hands with Jimin and Jeongguk. At least, in the realm of the non-magical. The boys assured her that things were more liberal in the magical communities.

“Morning,” Taehyung murmured, trailing his fingers over her arms and raising goosebumps from the ticklish sensation. His voice was even deeper than normal and rough from disuse and Hari could feel it reverberate in her chest. “Can I get a wake-up call like this every day?”

Hari pretended to think about it. “I dunno, I may have to rotate schedules with Gukkie and Jimin. I’d like to wake up like this too, y’know.”

Taehyung smiled fondly. “Then I’ll take a turn tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” Hari said genuinely, stroking her hand over his hair once more. “Jeongguk made breakfast. We’re just waiting on you.”

Taehyung leaned forward to kiss her one more time before sitting up, giving Hari a peekshow of his stomach as he stretched. She eyed the sliver of stomach she could see between his t-shirt and shorts appreciatively. She almost wished that Jeongguk and Jimin weren’t waiting for them so she could have some time to show her appreciation - or that they would come back to the bedroom and join her.

But the sheets were newly cleaned and breakfast was getting colder by the second.

Taehyung muttered something that she didn’t catch as he slid out of the bed, pausing a moment to greet Mickey where he was waiting on the floor, and headed out into the hallway.

Hari watched him go, lingering in his bed for a moment. She closed her eyes and laid back, soaking in the familiar smells of Taehyung. She could hear him join Jimin and Jeongguk in the kitchen, a cacophony of greetings from their many familiars almost drowning the boys out for a moment.

It felt like home.

Hari smiled contently, her heart feeling full.

“Hari-noona! Your breakfast will get cold if you don’t hurry!”

“Hari! Moon Hajoon! Did you get lost?”

“Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

Hari chuckled and called out. “Coming!”

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill -4

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1827

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - "Am I renting a bed and breakfast for a bikergang?"

Warnings: none

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 4

“Well, well, well, what have you boys been up to?”

Tony’s voice pulled Bucky out of his sleep.  He’d been wrapped around you and Steve’s hand was on his hip, and for a moment he thought someone had drugged him.  Tony kept clattering around the common room followed by a rather exasperated looking Pepper.  Bucky sat up and tried to go over exactly what had happened last night because, for all intents and purposes, he should absolutely not have slept as well as he had.

He’d gone out to ask the guy who had been standing in the alley what he was doing.  The dude had shot at him and the van parked across the road had taken off.  Natasha had come vaulting down the fire escape chasing after the dude with the gun and Bucky had chased down the van.  It had taken him a while but he’d eventually caught up with him.  When the guy wouldn’t talk, Bucky had called Fury for a collection and then dragged himself back to the tower where he was surprised to find you, Steve, and Geo were all camped out in the common room rather than in Steve’s apartment.  He’d really assumed that you’d just shack up with Steve.  The two of you had been dating after all.

He’d been aching when he got back and he’d sat down on the fold-out couch beside you because Geo had stuff spread out all over the other one.  Besides he hadn’t intended to stay.  He was just going to eat, hang out for a bit, and go to bed.  When you’d fallen asleep Steve had admitted he’d set up in the common room because the two of you hadn’t even kissed yet and he wanted to make sure you felt safe.  Bucky had remembered feeling an odd sense of relief hearing that and he wasn’t sure why.  Then he’d finished eating and gone to leave and you’d asked him to stay.

He had gone to sleep expecting to sleep badly.  He’d always slept badly.  He’d been doing a lot of work with therapists and while it had been helping, the nightmares still came.  Not every night, but too often.  He’d assumed that if he ever shared a bed with anyone that the fear that he hurt them in his sleep would keep him awake.  Instead, he’d slept right through.  There had been nothing that would explain that except that he’d been relaxed.

“You could have at least cleaned up after your orgy,” Tony said, picking up the empty food containers strewn over the coffee table.  “Am I renting a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Steve sat up and sighed in that very special way he reserved for Tony, and you sat up beside him pulling the covers up and looking extremely embarrassed.

“Tony, can we dial back the o-r-g-y talk in front of the small child?”  Pepper asked.

Tony spun around and saw Geo sitting up, yawning and rubbing his eyes.  “Small person,” Tony said, sounding shocked.  “When did you get here?”

“Tony, that’s Geo.  We told you about him,” Steve said, stretching and getting up.

Tony looked from Steve, to you, to Geo.  “Oh wow, “ he said crouching down. “Hey, buddy.  You like to talk to computers, huh?”

Bucky hadn’t seen a baseline human move as quickly as you did at that moment.  You scrambled up and dashed over to the couch, picking Geo up.  Geo struggled in your arms but then seemed to just flop all his weight in your arms, obviously used to your protective panic.

Steve moved to your side and put his hand in the middle of your back.  “Why don’t you go up to my floor.  FRIDAY will let you in.  You can have a shower or a bath.  Make some breakfast.  I’ll come up and check on you in a little while.”

“I don’t… what if…?”  You said, quietly.

“No one can get in or out without us knowing about it. This building is the most secure place you can find,” he assured you.  “FRIDAY is everywhere.  She knows who is here and she controls the locks.”

You looked at him uncertainly and gave a small nod.  You grabbed your go bag as you passed Tony and went straight to the elevator.  When the elevator closed Tony went right back to tidying up.  “She’s a mite jumpy, isn’t she?”  He said.

“There were people watching her last night.  When Bucky went to approach them, they shot at him and took off,” Steve explained as he began folding up the blankets and putting them away.  “I don’t blame her for being wary.  Even of us.”

“Did you catch them?”  Tony asked.

“Yeah, Fury has them.  Figured he was the best legal way to hold them,” Bucky said.  “He said he’d question them.”

“The boy can really communicate with electronics?”  Tony asked.

“Why don’t you ask FRIDAY?”  Bucky asked. 

“Oh good idea, tin man,” Tony said.  “FRIDAY, dear.  Has the boy been speaking with you?”

“Yes, Tony,” the AI replied.  “It comes through almost like binary.  But that doesn’t quite describe it properly.”

“Damn,” Tony said and dumped the containers into the trash chute.  “I would love to run some tests.”

“There is no way she’s gonna let you or anyone else run tests on that boy,” Steve said.  “Besides what he can do is irrelevant.  The only thing we need to know is who is after them and how we can keep them safe.”

“Right you are,” Tony said and went into the kitchen, getting out the french press and turning on the kettle.  “So what was going on with you three?  You all -” he made an obscene hand gesture with his index fingers and thumb.

Tony rolled his eyes.  “You got me, Tony,” he deadpanned.  “That’s exactly what we were doing.”

Pepper started laughing and got out the coffee cups.  “They aren’t you, Tony,” she said.

The elevator doors opened again and Hill came striding out with a handful of folders and a clipboard.  She was already dressed and completely together and Bucky vaguely wondered if she ever actually slept.  “There you are,” she said, beelining straight to Steve.  “We have bad news.”

“They’re not talking?”  Steve asked.

“You could say that,” Hill answered, gesturing for Steve to take a seat.  They both sat down on the now-folded up couch and she put the files on the table in front of him.  “They’re dead.”

“What the hell?”  Bucky said, moving to sit next to Steve and looking over his shoulder.

“Cyanide capsules.  We left them alone to think and confer with each other about what they’d said and when we got back they were both dead,” Hill explained.

“No.  I checked them.  I always check them for that,” Bucky said.

“So do we,” Hill said and Tony came over and took a seat on the recliner.  Pepper kissed his cheek. “I’ll go to the office.  This seems like official Avengers stuff.” 

“Shall we have lunch?” Tony asked.

“Sure,” Pepper said.  “I’ll call you when I’m taking it.”

She headed to the elevator and everyone turned back to the files on the table.  “You sure no one on your end gave them to them?”  Steve asked.

“Positive.  I reviewed the tapes.  It was in their teeth.  I’m assuming it’s something new,” she explained and opened up one of the files, with a series of photos showing the men knocking their teeth free.

“They didn’t give you anything first?”  Steve asked.

“Not a lot,” Hill said.   “Both stuck with stories that they weren’t doing anything.  Eventually, the guy in the van changed it to being hired by someone, but wouldn’t give a name.  And given the suicide, I’m going to assume that was a lie.”

“If it was cyanide that means HYDRA right?”  Bucky said.  “HYDRA do that.”

“It’s definitely a HYDRA thing, but they aren’t the only ones,” Hill agreed.

“But, Steve, didn’t you say she said there were things like super strength and telepathy.  That sounds like what they were doing with Wanda and her brother,” Bucky argued.  “And well, the whole super-soldier program.”

“We’re not ruling out HYDRA.  This is newer than Wanda and Pietro,” Hill explained and opened another folder.  “I didn’t have a lot to go off.  You won’t let me question her and I didn’t have dates, the name of the college, nor do I even know what her name actually is.  But I’ve been looking into things based on how old the kid is.  I did find an experiment that ran at Stanford.  It was based on some work by a couple of professors from the University of Manchester named Albert and Lousie Thompson back in the seventies and sponsored by a company called IGH.  That stands for Industrial Garments and Handling which is obviously a red flag already.  The files were all erased and no one is talking but from what I gather it was a program for ‘unlocking the potential people already hold’ for short periods.  Which sounds like a combat enhancement to me.  If you could let me question her...”

Steve shook his head.  “She’ll shut down.  Let me talk to her.  I’ll at least get you dates and names.”

Hill nodded.  “I’ll check the file Natasha released from HYDRA and what we have on the experiments on the twins.  That all goes back further than this but perhaps there are links.”

“Thank you, Hill,” Steve said. “Tell Fury thanks for the assist too.  We’ll have to be more thorough about checking for suicide pills from now on.”

Hill stood.  “I’ll get on it.  Let me know what you find out.”

She strode back out of the room and Tony leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles.  “Legolas sure does have a way of dropping everyone into the middle of shit doesn’t he?”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh while Steve shook his head.  “She needs help.  So we’ll help her.”

“From what I saw that’s not the only thing she needs,” Tony teased.  “Gonna give her that too?  That’s some outstanding service you offer, Cap.”

“Get your head out of the gutter would you?”  Steve said getting up.  “I’m gonna go up and talk to her.  I’ll let you know if we need any help.”

“Sure,” Tony said.  “You know where I am.  I might see if FRIDAY can figure out what it is about the kid that lets him talk to her like that.  Don’t get your hopes up though, it’s not her standard functions.”

Steve started heading to the elevator when he stopped and looked back at Bucky.  “You coming?”

“Oh,” Bucky said, slightly startled.  He had thought that Steve was going to talk to her in private.  The fact Steve had just assumed Bucky would be part of the gentle questioning was both a shock and slightly flattering.  “You sure?”

“Yes,” Steve said, matter-of-factly.  “Who else is gonna make pancakes?”

// NEXT

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Seven: Sleepless in Seoul

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 7 / 15

Warnings — none

Previous — Next

That night, sleep alludes you. You can't find it in you to close your eyes and quiet your mind for long enough to drift off. Instead, you lie on your back, stare at the ceiling, and wonder if Taehyung is doing the same.

When morning finally comes, the dawn stretching out her welcoming arms in the form of sunlight, you leave for the museum early. Even though you had promised to meet Taehyung at ten, you take the front steps two-by-two just before eight. The building isn't even open yet, and it won't be for another half-hour. It's something you hadn't considered in your sleepless and distracted state.

"You couldn't sleep either, then?"

Turning on your heel, you see Taehyung standing behind you. His usual disguise is back up; this time, the hoodie is dark blue and the mask is white. Messy, dark hair hangs just above dark brown eyes, the same ones that stare intently at you. 

Offering a sheepish smile, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets. "I'm not sure I did at all, really. Too much on my mind."

"Me, too." Breathing a sigh, Taehyung turns and sits down on the stairs leading up to the front of the building. He looks at you over his shoulder and motions to the spot beside him. "I won't bite. Promise."

The concrete is cold underneath you, and the air is chilly. The early morning silence is a welcome void, and you sit in it with Taehyung for several minutes. 

"I was up thinking pretty much all night," he states. You wouldn't say his voice breaks the silence; it's far too soft and quiet to break anything, even silence. It's gentle and deep, a honey-smooth melody that plays along with the quiet.

"About what?"

"Reincarnation." He shifts so that his elbows are propped on separated knees. His attention is on the conversation, but his eyes are elsewhere. "I don't know about America, but in Korea, it's something that we're told from a young age. It's always been a possibility."

"Really?" you prod, interested in the way he's grown up.

Taehyung nods, and a small smile slips onto his face. "My grandmother always used to warn me, 'Be good! Otherwise, you'll come back as a rock.' And when six-year-old me said that that didn't sound so bad, that it was better than coming bad as a spider, she'd turn to me..." He holds up a finger, waving it as if mimicking his grandmother. "And she'd say, 'If you come back as a rock, you might be dropped into the sea or left on top of a mountain. You won't have family or friends to keep you company, and you'll be there for a much longer time than a spider.' She'd always add, 'At least a spider has a job to do in its lifetime.'"

You can't help but chuckle at the way his voice fluctuates to sound like the woman he clearly admires so much. "Your grandmother is wise."

The brunet's smile falters a bit, and he lets his finger drop back down. "She was."

You gather from his tone that she's no longer with him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he assures, shaking his head. "She was the best there was. I believe she's living on. I might not know where or when or as who, but she's out there somewhere." He turns to look at you, tilting his head slightly. "Do you believe life goes on, [Y/n]?"

Your thoughts shift back to the dreams you've had your entire life, then to the images on the museum walls, all while keeping your eyes on the man that's involved in both of them. Setting aside your upbringing and your family's beliefs or what your country by in-large preaches, how could you deny anything other than the fact that there is something that happens after you die?

Maybe not to everyone, maybe not all the time, but the evidence is piling up, and everything is pointing to you and Taehyung having intertwined past lives.

"Yes."

The conversation comes to a halt as a shadow crosses over both your figures. Taehyung's head moves swiftly to see who's behind you. His expression is one caught off-guard, laced with surprise and...fear.

The museum curator stands with hands clasped behind her back, a welcoming smile on her face. "Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you."

You stand and bow slightly as a greeting. "We're early. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," she replies, shaking her head.

Taehyung snaps out of his stupor, stands beside you, and mirrors your polite bow. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it. Didn't sleep very well last night."

Jwa Ji-yeong cracks a smile and tucks a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You did seem a little jumpy, and I figured a five-foot-even woman wasn't the reason." She gestures towards the museum entrance. "Follow me. I was just about to open up."

Taehyung and you follow the petite woman into the large brick building. The space is eerily dark and silent before she flips the switch and brings it to life. Even your soft footsteps echo down every hallway you pass on the way to the other side of the museum. As the lights slowly get brighter, they cast fewer and lighter shadows. Yet still, as you venture into the space ahead of the curator where she has yet to do the same, the art looks ghostly and almost sinister.

You force yourself not to look into the showroom that holds Winged Victory of Samothrace as you pass by. Your heartbeat quickens as you see the silhouette of the water fountain come into view. And you know that just beyond that is a gallery wall full of pictures of you. It's enough to make your head spin.

Instinctively, you reach out for the thing nearest you to steady yourself. Taehyung's hoodie sleeve happens to be that thing. You grip it tightly, focusing on the softness of the fabric and the warmth radiating off his skin. On anything other than your racing heart and sweaty palms, especially on the way such a reserved person doesn't pull away. 

Keeping your gaze firmly ahead, you're relieved when Ms. Jwa diverts away from the water fountain and leads you to a section of the museum you've never seen before. Your visible relief doesn't escape your companion, the way your shoulders relax and your breathing comes easier. 

"Are you okay?" he whispers, out of earshot of the curator.

Nodding slightly, you release his hoodie sleeve with a heated face and turn slightly away. "Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be. I'm a little uneasy, too." 

Taehyung's next actions are the opposite of what you'd expect. His fingers wrap around your wrist at first, then slide down to brush against your palm. Eventually, his fingers lace with yours when you don't push him away. 

It's impossible to explain the feelings that the simple gesture gives you.

"Where are we going?" Taehyung asks the museum curator.

Ms. Jwa stops in front of a service elevator, the extremely large kind reserved only for employees to transport pieces of art to and from storage. She slides her security pass against the panel. We hear an affirmative beep, and the doors part down the middle. 

"There are some items in storage that I've kept for a long time," she replies as the three enter. After selecting the below-ground level of three, she turns back to you. "I promised you answers, and while I don't have them all, I have some."

"Why don't you just tell us?" you ask.

The petite woman shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Trust me, this is something you have to see for yourself."

The elevator doors open a few moments later. Ms. Jwa steps out into the dark, reaching over to the side to flip on another light switch. She waves to you and Taehyung, signaling for you both to follow.

The third level of the basement is wide and expansive. A bit duller and grayer than the above levels, it reminds you of a storage facility or warehouse. Row upon row of boxes and crates fill the space. Large, florescent lights hang high overhead.

"This is where we keep our long-term items," she announces, and Taehyung tugs you to keep up. "Things that aren't always on display but we refuse to get rid of, nevertheless. It's also where I, as the Head Curator, can pick and choose those items I want to have on-hand for a future exhibit. In other words, I have a bit of lenience and privacy as to what I keep down here."

She walks up to a smaller crate at the end of the last aisle, one that's been here for a long time if the dust is any clue. Using a cloth from a hanger nearby, she brushes it off and reveals the label below. Briefly reading the tag, she smiles and taps it lightly with a slender finger. 

"This is it! This is the one I was looking for."

"What is it?"

She turns to you, and her eyes soften. "This...This was an old friend's. I made them a promise that I would take care of their belongings if anything were to happen to them. So, naturally, after they..." She trails off. "It has all the answers I have. If you both want to take it to one of our art inspection rooms over there," she nods to a door at the end of the warehouse, "to look at what's inside, please go ahead."

"You won't be there with us?" you ask. "That's risky, leaving museum property to total strangers, isn't it?"

Ms. Jwa chuckles softly as she pats the surface of the crate affectionately. "You're not strangers. If you need me, I'll be on the ground-level taking care of a few things. The elevator doesn't need a security pass to go back up. So whenever you're done, you're free to leave whenever."

After she departs, Taehyung walks around you and picks up the medium-sized crate with ease. He nods to the back door, and you walk ahead of him to open it.

The inspection room is simple and clean. The beige walls are pristine, and the lighting in this space is much more cool-toned than that in the warehouse. A large table takes up most of the space inside, with tools and packing materials lining the cabinets on the far wall. 

Taehyung places the crate on the surface and plops into one of the nearby chairs. "Can you find something to open this with? Maybe a crow-bar or—"

"—What about this?" you ask, pulling a large tool from the nearest cabinet.

The brunet tugs his face mask off his face, unwrapping it from around his ears and placing it into his hoodie pocket. At your suggestion, he makes a satisfied face and takes the tool from you. Silently, he places the slender end between the cracks on the crate lid.

"Who wants to bet that this is full of things that belonged to the other Kim Taehyung?"

"And his wife," you add. "Who looks like me."

Taehyung stops his movements, turning instead to gaze across the table at you. "We can stop right now if you don't want to go on. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to dive into this. Reincarnation, the possibility of it...it's not an easy one to swallow."

You shake your head. "No, I've come this far. If the answer is that I've—we've lived another life, trust me. I've thought of crazier scenarios over the years. I...I have to know. I'm losing sleep and becoming more consumed by this secret every day I'm in Seoul." There's a pause as Taehyung's eyes glance down at the tool in his hands. "What about you? Getting cold feet?"

"No, it's not that," he breathes. "I've heard about the possibility of past lives my whole life. If this is real...then there was another version of me living right up until my birth. In that case, the only reason I was born at all is that he died in 1995." He gives a small shrug. "It's an unnerving thought."

"I hadn't thought of that..."

Taehyung chuckles softly. "I bring up a lot of things no one thinks about, sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"Not at all." Giving him a reassuring smile, you tap the wood to emphasize your conviction. "Go on. If you're ready, so am I."

Your companion takes a deep breath in to steady himself, straightening his back and shoulders as he grips the metal tool tighter. "Whatever we see, whatever we find out..."

You can see he's struggling to get his feelings across; a little crease appears between his brows as they furrow, and his lips purse into a thin line. In an attempt to put his restlessness at ease, you move your hand from the crate to cover his, giving his fingers a brief squeeze.

You lock eyes with his for a moment, and your smile widens a bit. "I got your back, Taehyungie."

The nickname causes him to giggle. You're relieved to see the edge wear away, shifting him back to a semblance of his usual, happy-go-lucky self. "You're only three weeks older than me," he murmurs. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you retort with a sly side-smile.

Taehyung shakes his head at your amusement and turns back to the task at hand. 

All smiles fall away when you recall why you're here, what you're about to see, and what truths might be revealed. It doesn't slip by you that his hands still tremble a bit, nor does it go unnoticed the lump that forms in your throat. No amount of teasing or flirting can make you forget that the items in front of you belonged to a couple who loved each other more than life itself, and who died because of it.

Those people were you and Taehyung. Twenty-five years ago, in another lifetime, you were them.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Taehyung pops the lid open with the metal tool. Dust and small pieces of wood are cast into the air, causing you both to cough and wave the debris away. He places the tool to the side. Each of you grabs a side of the lid, carefully moving it to the other side of the table.

Without any further delay, you begin to delve into the past.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can​​, @jaienn​​​, @happyhrsme​​, @butaes​​, @peter-pan​, @twoteen-yup​, @dreamcatcherjiah​

[nostalthicc]

his world | steve rogers

steve rogers x reader

warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of death

1.2k words

“steve?” y/n could hear the stereo on in their shared apartment. she walked in slowly looking for her boyfriend but she met the face of a random man sitting in the living area. y/n yelped, running into the kitchen, grabbing the biggest knife she could find. her fingers shook, trying to keep the steadiest hold on her weapon. y/n didn’t know who this guy was or what he wanted but she wasn’t going down without a fight. 

she jumped out of her skin when she heard the kitchen window creak open, turning towards the next intruder the knife at the ready.  “woah!” steve put his hands in the air, eyes wide at the sight of his girlfriend holding a knife at his face. slowly he reached for her wrist, clutching it lightly before taking the blade with his unoccupied hand. 

y/n sighed with relief but slapping steve’s shoulder continuously. “someone”s in the house!” she pouted, a worried look crossing her face once again. “he’s scaring and in my favorite chair.” steve lightly nodded her head, pulling his finger to his lip before grabbing his shield and stalking into the living room. 

steve knew exactly who y/n was talking about but it still didn’t explain how or why he was here in his apartment. “nick?” he breathed out, setting his shield down on the far wall. steve motioned for the girl to stay in the kitchen, but y/n being y/n, of course, didn’t listen. she wanted to know who this ‘nick’ person was and give him a piece of her mind about scaring the shit out of her.  “I don’t remember giving you a key.” y/n wrapped her arms around steve’s torso, silently glaring at the one-eyed man. 

steve switched the light on, the both of you gasping as their gaze fell onto injuries planted on nick’s face. he instructed y/n to grab the first aid in the bathroom when she got back into the room she started tending to his wounds. 

“is that was we are?” steve asked nick, as you placed a dirty paper towel in the trash. this was all new for y/n, she has always been kept out of steves’s ‘captain america’ lifestyle, when he was with her he was just steve. 

nick stood up, a deep grunt leaving his lips, he took a step towards steve. before he could say another word he shoved y/n to the groud as gunshots echoed through the room, hitting nick multiple times in the upper body. steve slightly ducked to the ground as y/n’s hand flew towards her mouth as she watched him fall to the ground.

he quickly grabs your forearm as well as fury’s collar, dragging you both behind a wall, trying to take cover while y/n tried to process everything that was going on. her mind was going a thousand thoughts per minute attempting to believe a man was dying at her feet. “captain rogers?” a new voice emerged pulling him out of his thoughts.  “captain, i'm agent 13 of shield special service.” she said putting her away in the holster around her waist, she watched his eyes twist with confusion. 

y/n finally looked up to meet her eyes. “kate?” 

“i’m assigned to protect-” her gaze travel to back steve. “-you.” she walks further into the room, noticing fury on the floor. “on his order.” she started talking into her radio, when steve touched his girlfriends hand noticing the way she flinched, snapping her eyes to him. 

“hey, hey, i need you to stay here and listen to her.” steve said, cupping her face in his hands, he didn’t want to leave her here at a time like this but he had a job to do and wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try to find fury’s shooter. steve slowly placed his lips on her temple. “it’s gonna be okay, just breathe, baby, just breathe.” he whispered into y/n’s hairline before picking up his shield and rushing out the living room window. 

she watched in horror as he left, a pit forming in her stomach. “steve!” y/n followed after him, ignoring her neighbor’s protest. the jump was much to far for y/n to make and even if she could she knew she wouldn’t follow him. she tried to remind herself this was his job, he did dangerous stuff like this all the time, he’s coming home. 

~

steve was currently talking with someone at the hospital, while y/n sat in a chair staring at the crack on the floor. ever since yesterday night when she watched nick fury fall to the ground with bullet holes in his chest she’s been uneasy and jumpy, it scared her and nothing could put her mind at ease- not even steve. the beeping of machines brought y/n from empty thoughts, she pressed her palms up against the window observing the doctors as they try to save nick.

“oh my god.” she whispered, tearing gathering in the corner of her eyes as they started putting away their gear, they turned off the machines, unhooked him, shut off his oxygen like nothing even happened. y/n’s lungs felt as though they were collapsing in on themselves, this was too much for her, she wasn’t used to watching people die. y/n needed air and to be out of this room. 

steve quickly trailed after the girl, he’s been worried about her. she hasn’t been talking much, or sleeping, or even eating. “y/n! stop, wait.” he grabbed her arm only for her to shove him away.

“no, th-this is too much.” y/n sobbed, wiping her wet cheeks as she backed away slowly. “i was standing right where he was, if i would have stayed where i was he would have never gotten up.”

“and then i’d have to watch you die.” steve sighed, keeping his distance, he didn’t want to overwhelm y/n more than she already was but he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and just go home. “it’s not your fault, he had a target on his back, he knew that but y/n i’m going avenge his death.” he took one step closer. “i promise you will never have to witness anything like that again, i’ll make sure of that.” 

y/n looked down to the tiled floor, nothing has ever made her feel so helpless. “he pushed me away from him like he knew he was about to get shot.” steve reached for her hand once more, kissing her knuckles when she didn’t strike away from him. “i just need time, steve. i’m sorry but i’m not built for this life.” 

as y/n left the hospital, without steve by her side, more than just nick fury had died today. she felt as if something deep within had split in half, a hollow pain buried in her chest. steve felt as if his heart had been torn straight from his chest, he had been in many fights but none of them had hurt as this one did. he will give y/n all the time she needs, he will never stop trying to get her back, she was the one reason he chose to fight. so the world could be a better place for her. 

y/n noticed the red dot on her chest just as a man approached her “scream and we’ll shoot you,  you’re coming with me.”

[echo-inthevoid]

107-third degree

The lightless flame?? Please stay safe Jon...

Ah right, we're in America. 

Mm Jon thinks someones following him, and I want to agree that he's probably just being jumpy. Usually I would immediately assume that someone is definitely following him since he mentioned it, but Jonny is a genius writer and makes his characters be paranoid and consistently wrong about stuff so I honestly don't know. 

Ok wait... Gertrude isn't actually Gerrard's mom this guy just assumed that, right? Ya. Cause Gerrards mom is Mary. 

Usher foundation? Is that another sister institute? I wonder if there's a mundane reason for there being a bunch of them or if there's a spooky reason there's a bunch spread all over the world? Or.. Is there a bunch or is it just those three? 

Oh Gerrard died from a seizure? A spooky seizure? Or... I think it was mentioned he had cancer? Or was that someone else? 

A cop? 

Jon maybe... Maybe don't use your compelling so much. Especially with this guy watching you. 

Ok ya Gerard had cancer. 

Oh? She broke into where they were keeping his body?? Maybe he wasn't dead? Or she did spooky things to him and he undied? Cause like Ya he showed up at some point after he was dead right? 

Also not sure how I feel about Gertrude always pretending to be Gerrards mother? Like... Probably better than Marry tbh, but considering what she did to Michael I'm worried for our Gerrard. 

Also! This is completely off topic, but they never did explain how Jon tracked down Jude Perry or Mike Crew?? Like he just found them?? Was that spooky eye stuff, like he just Knew where they were? Like how he just knew Gerrard worked with Gertrude? Or was there an explanation but I missed it? -anyway.

Jon's not feeling well? Maybe he used his compelling too much.

Oooh! Spooky thing? She did spooky things to his dead body? ...good spooky things or bad spooky things...?

Ya stop compelling people u dum dum ur gonna make yourself sick. Or maybe it's cause he's away from the institute? 

Elias! ):<

Oh. Ya maybe reading a statement will make him feel better? Tho didn't Elias say reading them was draining or something? 

Hmm is this guy who's interrogating him maybe that other Archivist? 

Ah yes lightless flame. 

Ya it sounds like this guy is compelling him. 

Weird... Is this guy with both the lightless flame and the eye? Or can all avatars compel people? 

Ey! He's feeling better! So the statement did help. Maybe it was draining only in the beginning, I think in context Elias was talking about when Jon first started reading statements when he said they were draining. 

Also is that a smile I hear in Jons voice!! Did he just smile? ;-; please read all the statements u need Jon.

Uh oh. 

Julia?

"Who are you"

"You don't know me?" 

"Should I?"

"No! -i guess. Just, I mean, everyone normally seems to."

"Good for you."

"Not really."

XD I love this exchange. She doesn't seem so bad. As far as people who try to kill Jon go anyway. 

Ooo is she a hunter?

"Kidnapped... Again." XD Jon. 

Yes! Someone who pronounces Gerrard correctly!!! Ahhh! 

Oh. She's the daughter of Robert Montauk? (Who's he again?)

Nonojon don't ask any questions. You know how bad of an idea that is with avatars she's obviously an avatar -oh no.

 "Hunting" ey I was right! (please don't be hunting Jon!)

What's happening? They got pulled over... Is she hunting the police guy who was following Jon? Maybe that's why she kidnapped him? To lure out the police guy? 

Why's he so suspicious of her? Just cause Jon seems to not have his passport or whatever with him? I mean ya she's being a bit- ohaksbdkdhsbdbdjdhdn!? What? Did she just shoot him??

What? Oh there was a guy in the trunk and he shot the police guy? How'd they know he would look in the trunk? 

Ey!! Vampire dude! 

Ok so ya sounds like they were hunting the police guy. I wonder why he was following jon anyway? 

I'm so excited to finally meet vampire dude! He was always so cool! Sjhdkdjsj

[scribbling-stiks]

AAR - XXVII - Reports of the Missing

'In through nose, out through mouth.'

Russia shakes slightly and tries his best to calm himself down. Finally, when his blurry vision calms, he shakily stands and searches the room for America. As soon as Russia spots America, he makes a beeline for him. He wants to wrap his arms tightly around America but ends up standing behind him. Russia tries to keep himself under control, forcing his arms to his sides.

Being close to America did make him feel a little safer.

Canada shouts for a roll call. As soon as it was over, Finland and Dixie barricaded the exits.

America examines Maryland's hands and sighs. America turns and jumps when he sees Russia.

"Jesus!" America shouts before groaning, "I'm going to have to get used to that."

Russia's eyes fall to the floor. He shakes off the guilt as best he could and his concern for Maryland returns.

"How's Maryland?" Russia asks.

"Her hands are still numb, but I don't think there's anything I can do. I don't sense any physical or magic injury," America says, worry in his tone.

"That's not good," Russia comments.

"Yeah. Right now, we might just have to wait. If we're lucky, it's temporary. It should be, I don't sense any nerve damage."

Russia nods and jumps a foot in the air when movement approaches him from his right. He spins around and sees Texas standing behind him with a startled look and an outstretched arm.

"Whoa howdy, are you alright?" Texas asks, taking a step back.

Russia sighs.

"I'm fine," Russia insists.

America turns to Russia and gives him a skeptical look but he shakes it off.

"Mare," America says, turning back to his daughter, "stay close to Illinois and tell me if anything changes, okay?"

Maryland gives a shaky sigh and turns around, walking off. Illinois takes Maryland into a hug and helps calm her down. America sighs and his shoulders slump. America turns to Russia and latches onto his torso. He hugs for a moment before pulling back and looking Russia over.

"Are you hurt?" America asks.

Russia shakes his head. "Are you?"

"No, I'm fine," America says with a shaking tone with a sigh.

Russia takes America's hands to his chest and America leans against him on top of their hands. Their foreheads touch and Russia sighs. He opens his eyes and admires America's face but jumps back when he sees motion in his peripheral vision.

"*God d*** it,*" Russia mutters under his breath.

"You're being pretty jumpy, are you sure you're okay?" America asks.

'No.'

"Yes, I'm fine," Russia says.

'I don't want to bother you.'

"You don't need to worry," Finland chimes in from the corner, cleaning one of the guns, "we won't let anything get in."

Russia nods and smiles at those around him. Most of the kids look skeptical of him, but even then, they look more trusting than they had been before.

'Why do they look like that? What did they see through the door?'

Someone puts a hand on his shoulder and Russia stiffens, spinning around. He comes face to face with Dixie, and he steps back. Dixie's face scrunched up for a second before offering Russia a neutral expression. Dixie opens his mouth to say something but doesn't get the chance.

Then someone hugs Russia from behind. Russia holds back the instinct to elbow the person for a moment and he hears America giggling. A squeak emits from the back of Russia's throat when America lifts him up off the ground.

America marches them over to his mat and he dumps Russia onto it. Russia laughs.

"Rue Rue, you need to warm up," America says, waggling his finger with his hand on his hip, "don't want you to get sick."

America turns to leave and Russia reaches out, wanting to ask him to stay. But Russia changes his mind drops his arm.

'The kids need him more than I do right now.'

Russia carefully takes off the scarf and tosses his jacket to the side, wrapping himself in a fuzzy blanket and putting his back to the wall. He carefully scans the room, taking stock of everything in the building.

Someone sits beside him and Russia jerks, spinning around to stare at them. He tries to calm himself down.

Colorado smiles from next to him and North Dakoda sits on Colorado's left.

"Heya Russ."

Russia smiles. "Hello."

"So... could you tell us about what kind of stuff you guys saw when you were gone?"

"From before?"

"Just start from when you left the house."

Russia thinks back and his memories begin to swirl.

'It has been such a long time since I've seen the big house,' he realizes. This thought comes with a bittersweet feeling.

"When we first left the house," Russia begins, "we tried to track America's location with magic, but that only brought trouble."

"What do you mean?" Colorado asks.

"We didn't find America. We found monsters that crawled like spiders and one of them jumped off a cliff. We also saw..."

Images of the confusing sights he had seen in the trees flash in his mind.

"Stairs."

"Wait, stairs?" Iowa interrupts.

Russia jolts up a little and he looks around in shock. He sees that instead of only having a few states sitting around him, he is the epicenter of a huge group. He watches how all of the states, provinces, and countries sit around on mats and blankets, listening to every word.

"Yeah," Massachusetts says, "They were clean and covered in white carpeting."

"That's bull," Alabama says with crossed arms.

"No, it was real," Texas emphasizes, "I started walking over to it before I even knew what I was doing. Russ over here stopped me before I touched 'em."

Russia nods in confirmation before continuing.

"We were attacked by monsters and we started finding cameras when we started exploring a cave system. When we got deeper, the walls started shaking. We tried to escape when a rock fell and trapped us inside."

Russia raises his arms to emphasize the shaking.

"It almost crushed me," Canada adds, and the provinces crowd around him with gasps.

"Then there was the knocking on the walls. It led us out of there. Kind of," Texas says.

"What do you mean 'Kind of'?" Delaware asks nervously.

"Well, it led us out onto a ledge and the ledge crumbles," Russia says, "we fell into the trees."

"You fell?! From where?" America squeaks.

"I'd say 20 stories up. I was crashing down and thought I was finna die," Louisiana adds, "I just remember waking up in a tent with Texas sleepin' next to me."

"Ute found us," Canada says.

Colorado cheers, "See, I told you it was a good idea!"

"Then, we were kidnapped," Russia says, and the children go quiet.

"And Texas wasn't feeling too good neither," Louisiana adds, "'pparently he was havin' some bad weather and it was making him sick. We had to hold back for a little while."

Texas looks away, his hat hiding his face. "'m sorry Dad. I tried to keep lookin'. I tried."

"Tex, you couldn't even f***ing stand," Massachusetts snarks, "and we weren't going to leave you behind."

"I was not going to let you walk into a trap when you couldn't defend yourself," Russia defends.

"Was still a trap anyway," Texas mutters.

"All of you, come here," America demands, gathering Louisiana, Massachusetts, and Texas into a hug.

"Dad, we're okay!" Texas says, "we're all okay."

"Don't you dare tell me not to worry!" America exclaims, "you shouldn't have been involved. You guys almost died! I am allowed to dote on you for a few minutes."

Massachusetts rolls his eyes but doesn't pull away.

"We were attacked by a bunch of dead animals. It was gross," Russia says blandly, his nose wrinkles, "and a bunch of monsters came out to drag us down into the mineshaft that we were looking at."

"I tried to shoot one of 'em and it ricocheted back at me. It hit me in the shoulder," Texas explains, rolling up his leave to show off his patch of scar tissue that contrasts drastically with the skin on his arm.

"Tex, I don't know who you're fooling, but that ain't a bullet wound," New Mexico remarks.

"Well, I don't remember much," Texas admits, "but it hurt."

"The monsters started digging into your shoulder," Russia elaborates with a shiver, "I tried to hit the one holding me to help you, but I cut myself."

America winces.

"I tried to disinfect everything, but Russ' hatchet still had stuff from the animals, so I didn't have much luck," Louisiana says.

America spins to Russia and stares with wide eyes and even Finland looks surprised.

"No wonder your leg was so bad," America mutters.

"Then we found Finland and were trying to find you based on your magic," Russia says, looking at America.

"Did you find him?"

"Dude, shut up. Don't be a dumba**."

"America found us," Russia admits.

"Phil is the only reason I actually came to investigate," America says, and Philippines shows a bright smile.

"I'm glad you did," Canada says, "we were in a pretty bad spot."

"Then we got out of the caves into a building. We think it is a military base," Russia says, "Massachusetts got a phone and he called you."

The states nod and soon, questions begin flying around the room, and Russia tries his best to field as many as he could.

The stories are still worrying, but talking about them was a good distraction from the slime still sitting outside.

America stands up and hugs Canada tightly. After a few minutes, America leaves Canada to his providences and walks over to Russia, smiling softly.

"You guys went through a lot," America mumbles, leaning his head on Russia's shoulder, "I'm happy we all made it out okay."

They sit quietly before America sits up a little.

"Have you talked to your dad?" America asks.

Russia shakes his head.

"Well, you should. You promised to tell him what we found, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"You should do it. Maybe not now, it's loud. But you should call him later tonight."

Russia nods in agreement. America sighs and Russia laces his fingers in America's and smiles. America leans up and kisses Russia's chin. Russia leans his head on America's head and relaxes. Chatter surrounds them, and Texas and Massachusetts loudly go into detail about what they had been through. Russia tunes them out the best he can and smiles at America.

'Hopefully, we will find something to stop this,' Russia thinks, 'I just want to go home with Meri.'

~

Next

Previous

Table of Contents

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM ALICE ISN’T DEAD (5/?).

“the water sparkles like it does in poems.” “haven’t i had enough for one life?” “what’s like a smile, but angry?” “i haven’t been home in months.” “it’s weird how when you’re gone a long time, everything you left behind is exactly where it was.” “you will always live in the remnants of the life you’ve led up until this point.” “there was no one left to know or care.” “there was, as always, a jumpy fear in me.” “i never saw anyone watching me.” “i should’ve switched on re-circulation.” “i cried.” “nothing else happened, except eventually morning.” “can they take my truck, and will it not be that much of a pain in the ass to back it out again?” “i tried to live my life. what else could i do?” “that had many downsides, but it did teach me how to live through fear.” “was this about finding yourself?” “where were my neighbors?” “there was no one in this world who would help me.” “any sort of vulnerability became a calculated risk.” “i could feel that there was something in there with me.” “there was nothing there. but there was.” “nothing was there. but something was there.” “my anxiety was becoming a monster of its own.” “i could feel myself shutting down.” “what were they even trying to warn me away from?” “i had gone home. i had given up.” “i thought about trying to disappear.” “there is a fine line between disappearing from view and disappearing altogether.” “there was only one escape.” “there were so many of them.” “to just rush in would be death.” “at least i don’t have to go over that mountain pass.” “i have something far more dangerous in mind.” “even monsters have to have some routine to their lives.” “this would have to be done carefully and slowly or it would not be doable at all.” “there will be no watching and no planning.” “what will i do after that? i don’t know.” “i wish i could have seen you again.” “whatever happens next is what happens.” “opening the window feels like opening an oven to see if it’s ready for bread.” “how could they be ordinary hands and also hold that memory at the same time?” “i’m going to tell it all. even the parts you know.” “there’s something out here in the desert by the road.” “you know that evil tower in the lord of the rings?” “what is this thing?” “america has weird things in it.” “i don’t know why i asked that.” “it was always nicknames before with you.” “if nothing else, you weren’t boring.” “this wasn’t about you at all. that’s not why i left.” “you know. you’ve seen them.” “the world is teetering. i’m trying to keep it sliding the right direction.” “i know. i know. i know.” “i love you.” “forever can’t start yet.” “you can’t keep looking for me.” “i need to stay lost for a while. you have to respect that.” “my heart beat differently just being near you.” “you were crying. i realized i was, too.” “someday i’ll come back. if you’ll let me.” “in the meantime, stop looking.” “please don’t do this.” “i had no plan at all.” “i wonder if the weirdness of this emptiness is specific to the american experience.” “not everything has to be known.” “i wish you could see this.” “none of us are gonna hurt you right away.” “you aren’t any safer in there.” “what a weird metaphor.” “i’m always nervous.” “we didn’t know you were coming, or we would have prepared here.” “the longer i keep talking, the longer before you attack me.” “that’s a complicated story, and i’m not one for talking.” “you’re serial killers.” “freedom can be good or bad. there can be terrible freedom. we are the terrible freedom.” “we are creatures of the road. we feed on distance, on road trips, on emptiness.” “don’t try to make poetry out of the blood on your hands.” “you think that spell will protect you?” “it will hurt me, but it will hurt you more.” “i did the only thing i could do.” “the only way out is through.” “that bought you some time, didn’t it?” “what now? what’s next?” “you’re going to kill me. oh, ___. let me explain death to you.” “i’d never been so afraid, and that’s saying a lot.” “i wasn’t a person anymore. just a container for my fear.” “i thought of a factory by the sea.” “i thought of home. i thought of you.” “i knew in that moment that anxiety is just an energy.” “i am not afraid of feeling afraid.” “he was stronger than i remembered.” “i was so full of fear that there wasn’t any room for anything else.” “i had done it. i had won.” “you’re not gonna believe this.” “come on out. those things have run for now.” “you did a very good thing today. a very good thing.” “we have a new truck for you.” “they won’t be gone for long.” “you’ll hear from us again, for sure.” “just keep doing what you’ve been doing.” “i will let you be lost until that moment you want to be found. but i’m not done.” “what is this company that i work for?” “i’m going to keep moving.” “i love it. i love it so much.” “all i know for now is that this isn’t the end of my story. this isn’t the end of my road trip.”

[my-status-single]

Tony’s Daughter Side Story 7

Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word count: 1548

Warnings: Steve is nervous. Theres sex KINDA in this part. 18+. Tony is mentioned. I feel like that has to be a warning now Yyyyikes.

Synopsis: Let’s drop two…three? bombs in this part. Steve is ready to take a few more steps in this relationship of his.

Authors Note: This is a canon compliant AU. This story is set in the same AU as my series Tony’s Daughter. It isn’t a direct part of that series, but it does take place in the same timeline. I’m going to release a post with the current timeline soon, because as this series has progressed things have changed.

Tony’s Daughter Side Stories Autumn

Tony’s promise for a form of birth control rang true.

It arrived exactly a month after that first visit with a note ‘Have fun kids xoxo T.S”.

It was great. Really helpful. Really great and…helpful.

…

Except,

Steve can’t figure out why it was addressed to him.

Why would his girlfriend’s birth control show up on his doorstep?

Did Tony think this was a joke? A fun game to play?

It definitely wasn’t.

Why would his girlfriend’s father send him the birth control intended for her?

Why wouldn’t he just send it to her?

Wouldn’t that have been the logical thing to do?

Steve was already overthinking the whole sex thing.

He’s had sex before so he shouldn’t be freaking out the way that he is.

But he’s definitely freaking out.

“Hey you ready?” He hears her call and it startles him enough that he drops the package and kicks it under his bed as she walks into his bedroom.

“Yeah.” He says after a beat. He stands and goes to her, kissing her forehead. “What am I ready for exactly?” He whispers, rubbing her hips as he pulls her closer.

She laughs and swats at his chest. “Farmer’s market.” She says. “Get dressed.” She says and swats his bum then. He laughs and steals a quick kiss before walking to his closet and dressing for the day.

He forgets about the box for a solid week.

Until a cuddle on the couch gets a bit heated.

They are both flushed in the face and she pulls away and kisses his nose and leaves.

And Steve wants to hit his head against the wall.

He can’t quite figure out why they are waiting anymore because…well, they’ve done things. They’ve been naked together and..had fun. They just haven’t…had sex.

And he’s sure that’s because of him. Because she’s waiting for him. And that’s great, but now it has him freaking out over taking that next step.

Because just like with their first kiss, he feels like it’s a bigger deal than it needs to be now.

“You’ve done this before.” He keeps reminding himself.

There had been those couple of months on that USO tour. Some of the dancers had been very enthusiastic about the thought of being with Captain America. And he had gone along with it because…wasn’t that was he was supposed to do?

And after the defrosting..he’d been so desperate to just feel anything that he’d been with a few people.

So, he’s done this.

He’s done sex.

Had sex?

God, he’s freaking out.

Steve is not a liar. And it would be a lie if he said he didn’t want this.

He’d wanted this for a long time actually. Long before everything happened with Loki even. She is a beautiful woman and his body responds to that. It’s a natural reaction. It’s just not one he rarely acts on these days. Because he wants it to mean something. And most of the time he’s acted on that feeling it hasn’t meant something.

But now.

Now she is his and he is hers.

And he wants that closeness.

That connection.

And the build up to that is making him a little crazy.

Is this a symptom of his anxiety? He still has trouble recognising those symptoms.

His heart is pounding in his ears, and his stomach is doing little flips, and his breathing is not at all even.

That’s anxiety, right?

She’s going to be here in less than ten minutes and he really needs to pull himself together.

“You’ve done this before, Steve. You’ve got to calm down buddy.” He whispers and rubs his temples. “She already likes you, man.” He groans. This is so embarrassing, Jesus. “This isn’t the 40s. You aren’t fighting for her attention. She’s attracted to you.” He says.

“Who’s attracted to you?” He freezes at the sound of her voice and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Hey.” He whispers, looking over at her. She tilts her head to the side and eyes him curiously.

“Hi Stevie.” She says back. “You’ve been kind of jumpy lately. You okay?” She walks over to him and kisses him softly. Like she always does. But he holds her closer for longer, deepens the kiss a bit and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you.” He whispers. Her eyes widen and she looks up at him. “You don’t have to say it back.” He says and takes her hands. “But...I’m at the point where I want more from this. And I don’t want to take that next step without you knowing how I feel. Without telling you that I love you.” He whispers. 

The idea of sex makes him nervous. But this? This is the most simple thing in the world. Telling her that he loves her. It’s easy.

And the way she is beaming at him right now? 

That’s just icing.

“I love you too.” She whispers to him. His breath hitches a bit and then he’s beaming too.

“Yeah?” He whispers. She giggles softly and nods. “Yes Steve. I love you.”

“That’s good.” He says and nods. “That’s really good.” He whispers.

And then they are kissing again.

They’ve kissed a lot. Steve really likes kissing her and she lets him whenever he wants to. Which is often. But this time is different. They both feel it. And it’s not just because of the declaration they’ve just made. It’s because they both know it’s the start of more.

He deepens this kiss, holding her waist and pulling her flush against him.

“This is okay right?” He whispers lips ghosting over her ear as she kisses his neck.

“It’s perfect. Please don’t stop.” She whispers back. But she pulls away then and he frowns.

“Do you want this?” She asks, hands resting on his chest.

He left out a small laugh. “Sweetheart, I definitely want this.” He says.

She nods and kisses him again. There are no hesitations from either of them after they both give their green light. She’s tugging his shirt off and he has his hands under hers, still only touching her waist. He’s ever the gentleman.

He kisses her neck softly and she moans and nips at the skin on his neck and...suddenly he isn’t a gentleman anymore. 

He grabs the tops of her thighs and hoists her up and onto the counter. She gasps and grins at him.

“This. Off.” She whispers and tugs his t shirt. He obliges and lets her pull it over his head.

“Your turn.” He says and pulls her shirt off as well. She’s already undoing the buckle on his belt. He laughs softly and kisses her neck and shoulder. “We aren’t doing this on the kitchen counter.” He whispers, nipping her skin softly.

She shivers. “Probably a good idea.” She whispers. “Bedroom?” He nods and scoops her up. He likes picking her up. He likes that she lets him. She’d sting and trained and could easily resist, but it seems like she likes it too.

She giggles when he plops her on the bed. Then he gets under it and pulls out Tony’s gift.

“This came a week ago.” He admits sheepishly, handing it to her. She looks at it and turns a bit pink and starts laughing.

“God, he’s such an ass.” She says, still giggling. She opens the package and turns even more red as she pulls out condoms and pills. She looks over everything and hums. There’s another letter, probably explaining what everything is. She reads that.

“The birth control pills take a couple weeks to be effective.” She says. “But he figured we wouldn’t want to wait and made some specialised condoms as well.” She says.

He nods because that..sounds like something Tony would do.

“So, we could use one of those.” She says and he nods again. “Or..” She looks at him and bites her lip.

“Or?” He asks and raises an eyebrow.

“We could just…see what happens?” She whispers, cheeks going pink again.

His eyes widen and he feels his own cheeks go a bit hot.

Oh.

“R-really?” He whispers and sits beside her on the bed.

She nods slowly. “Yeah…if you want to. I…Steve, I trust you. I see this being permanent. And even with the serum and whatever my mom did the chances of us getting pregnant on the first try are still so slim.” She’s rambling a bit and Steve has never been so in love. He just kisses her softly.

“Whatever happens.” He says and nods. “I’m fine with whatever happens.” He says and strokes her cheek.

She smiles and nods. “Okay.” She whispers.

So he kisses her again. He gently lays her back on the bed, hovering over her a bit. He ghosts kisses over her cheeks and down her neck and chest. She scratches lightly at his shoulders and back.

It’s perfect.

And not that it matters but it’s easily the best sex he’s ever had.

And she stays and cuddles and traces shapes on his chest and biceps.

The women he’s been with…they never stay. Or he doesn’t stay. Because it always felt wrong after.

But this?

This is perfect.

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[sheepsandcattle]

Chapter 13

“Everyone else has got one page each but you’ve got two,” Genie announces with a shrug.

Curly’s leant back on the couch with the laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. The TV’s playing on mute on the other side of the room whilst his sister tells him all about her family project.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head. “How have you filled two whole pages up about me? Have you just listed all the daft things I’ve done?”

The joke goes right over her head and she insists, “no, honest! In a minute - I’ll get it,” and jumps out of the frame before he can tell her he’s only joking.

As he waits, Curls hears the news on her end of the line; a car bomb attack averted in London; some belled in Glasgow drove into the side of the airport, and they’re still looking for that girl in Portugal...

Only four years old and lost somewhere in a foreign country - Curls can’t even imagine what he’d do if it were Genie. She looks nowt like her and is half her age but it still leaves him feeling off.

“See.” She’s back in front of the camera again, oblivious to the scary things going on in the world as she grins with pride. “All this page and all this page is you,” Genie points at the double A5 spread. “I can read it to you if you want.”

“Yeah, mint. Read it,” he encourages, shuffling recklessly as his sister flips the book around and gets ready to read.

The image on his screen is pixelated and jumpy but he never bothers telling her - it’s the best their connection’s been in ages anyway. Her voice is clear enough and he can make out the ponytail Jen’s forced into his sister’s ridiculous barnet and the red school cardigan that Curls knows she wouldn’t be allowed to have on still if it wasn’t a Friday night.

“My brother, Elliot Michael Clarke, was born in Brentwood, Essex on 26th February 1987 at… Ten past six in the morning,” she begins, a little stop-start but who’s judging? Curly was still reading Biff and Chip until year five. “We have the same dad but, unlike me, his mum is named Kimberly as they met before I was born.”

Curls chuckles, “very eloquent, Gee.”

“Obviously. I’m getting more than seventy marks in all my English tests.”

“You’re joking,” he muses.

“No, but shh, I’m not done.” She puts a finger over her lips and he does the same before she goes on: “he’s got curly hair like me and my dad which is why his friend call him Curly. He moved to America when I was six years old but we talk on the phone about three times a week—”

“Only three times?” He frowns. “Surely-”

“Eugenia Clarke,” he hears his dad put on his best strict voice in the background. “Finish your food. Go on, I’ll talk to El ‘til you’re done.”

His sister whinges as she closes her book and looks up to her left, presumably at the man. “I’m nearly done.”

He’s not having any of it though, and soon his sister is ushered out of the way and is replaced by his dad instead, sat at the computer desk in her place in his work top and green fleece. Genie’s shouting something but, as she walks further from the computer, it becomes more and more unclear and all Curly gets is, “haven’t...” and, “...in ages.”

“Alright, El?” His dad brings a mug to his mouth and takes a long swig as he gets comfortable. “Not out tonight?”

Curly chuckles although he feels guilty: Skype night used to be every Friday before he started going out over the weekends. It’s been a good few months since the last one fell on-schedule. “Not tonight, no. I’m shattered.”

His dad hums into his mug, taking another sip before he sets it down. “We’re going to Cornwall in September if you fancy it, mate. We’ll go for a fortnight, make it worth the trek for you.”

He groans, ruffling a hand through his own hair, frustrated as he says, “you know I’d love to dad, but I’m skint. Maybe next time,” with a disappointed huff.

His dad sighs too but says, “if you change your mind, we’ll pay for the stay if you can do the flight - let me know.” Curly nods but doesn’t reply - already fed up with the idea of his family going on another annual holiday and him missing out again. But then his dad says, “listen, Jen fancies visiting you soon. We’re thinking early next year. Just don’t tell your sister yet; don’t want her getting excited just yet.”

Curly spends the rest of the night beaming.

***

He startles from a dream the next morning and his bed is wet right up to his pillow. His head is pounding and his eyes ache so much he can barely keep them open for long enough to check the time.

6:47am.

The dream becomes hazier and hazier the longer he sits awake, but he grasps onto what he can before it goes away.

He remembers a world too full -- a system he minored in. He remembers a page full of words that jumbled up and meant nothing, remembers saying “please, just give me another chance,” as they dragged him out of a room and down a dark corridor that got hotter and hotter the closer they got to the pit.

He remembers knowing what the pit was, but not knowing why, and he remembers passing a huge window, stumbling past his family and his friends who stood waving him off at the other side, green stamps on their wrists where he had red.

He remembers the shove, burning and falling, and then waking up.

Once he’s caught his breath and sat upright, he touches beneath his nose, but it’s not bleeding - not yet, at least. He feels that pressure behind his eyes already though, so he forces himself out of bed, bare feet thumping against the trodden carpet as he sulks out of his dark room with a finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

The light’s on in the lounge (still or already - he’s not sure which) and it hits him so hard he wobbles, squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t even notice Jules sat in the armchair until he says, “you’re up early.”

He hums and reaches out blindly to flick off the light, ignoring Jules’ irritated, “hey,” as he stumbles over to the couch and curls up on his side against the cushions. It’s lighter in here than his room anyway, curtains open and letting the light in from the street outside. What did he leave his room for again?

“Painkillers,” he grumbles. “‘Ave y’got any? Strong’uns.”

He hears Jules grumble a little before he shuffles around, Curly’s eyes shut again as his mate digs about somewhere, clicking his tongue as he searches.

“I’ve got... OxyContin,” Jules offers, and Curls doesn’t really care what that is as he nods and holds a hand out, eyes still shut as his mate adds, “take… Two, I guess,” and places them in his palm.

Curly pops them both into his mouth and swallows them dry, nose screwed up like it’ll help get them down. “Head’s banging,” he now explains, as if it wasn’t obvious by now, and opens his eyes just a bit to watch as Jules packs everything away again and slips in beneath the chair.

Jules doesn’t answer as he gets comfortable again, just goes back to whatever it was he was going before, which seems to be… Sitting and watching the opposite side of the room.

A familiar song pulls Curly back out of the silence, and he braves a glance at the TV where colourful lights assault his eyes and watches the Red Dwarf intro play on-screen.

“You’re finally watching it,” he says.

“Not really. Got high to it with Oz, but couldn’t keep up.”

“Oh.”

Back to silence.

He closes his eyes again and breaths deeply, cold air soothing the back (but burning the front) of his brain. Curly sees images flicker behind his eyelids like he usually would when he’d clamber into bed at around this time, still drunk and high and half-hallucinating that the night is happening all over again.

Except now he sees his family waving again, not smiling and not crying as he gets dragged off. Then he sees that man who says, “this test will determine... (something something) ...a place after the cleansing,” and then, “I’m sorry to inform you that—“ and then a stamp on his wrist.

“Jules,” he croaks, and there’s still silence but, when he opens his eyes, his roommate is looking over at him, waiting. “Do you ever feel… Small?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Curly hums. “Sometimes the world just feels a bit shit, doesn’t it?” Another shrug from Jules. “Sometimes I wish I could fix it, but I think a lot of people would see people like us as the problem.”

“Maybe we are,” he offers, then coughs into his fist. “Why do you care? We all die in the end.” Typical, nihilistic Julian.

“That’s the worst bit.” Curls sniffs, watching his eyelids again - all black this time. “... We die and people say ‘well, what did he expect?’”

Jules laughs then, short and mean, but Curly knows him and he knows he doesn’t mean for it to be cruel. It’s a ‘don’t be daft’ laugh.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m summet special. Do you?” Another laugh. “And then sometimes I feel so… Wasted.”

“You usually are.”

He groans. “Not like that, just—“

“I’m kidding.”

His breath catches in his throat and he shivers, arms winding around himself and hands clinging to his elbows.

“Don’t fucking cry, Curly.”

“I aren’t,” he sniffles, frowning instead.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You been hanging out with that—“

“Jules,” Curly stops him because if Jules doesn’t say it, he can pretend he was never going to. Then he doesn’t have to be mad. They’ve not mentioned Jordan since that night. “Fuck sake, my head.”

It’s only been a few minutes, but Jules says, “maybe they’re expired. I’ll get you another.”

“Can I pay you next week? I’ve got—

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Curly is about to argue (he’s sick of feeling like he owes anyone anything) but then Jules says, “fuck Curly, you’re bleeding on the couch,” and he’s distracted by the effort it takes to drag himself from the couch to the kitchen, hand over his face to protect the carpet.

[madpanda75]

“Cuban Affair”

Disclaimer: It has recently come to my attention that this story raised concerns about how it’s not necessarily accurate for a Cuban, such as Rafael, to actually want to visit Cuba, given the oppression that Cubans were and still are subjected to under a Communist government.

Growing up with a Puerto Rican mother who was active in educating her children about human rights, particularly in Latin America, has truly shaped the woman I am today. I have studied Latin American politics in college; visited countries such as Peru, Haiti, Uruguay, and Argentina; walked with the Madres de Plaza de Mayo; visited La Escuela de Mecanica de la Armada where 5000 men and women were detained, tortured, and killed by their government, and worked with the Latino community in rural areas of Virginia. I am embarrassed that I would write a story and get lost in the romanticism of returning to your roots without even thinking of the ramifications that may have when the country in question is still run by a Communist political party.

So when reading this story, please understand that it is purely fictional and was never meant to offend anyone and I apologize for my ignorance on the subject.

Soft music played in the background of the restaurant as Rafael drummed his fingers against the table, turning his head when he heard the door open. He sighed when it wasn’t you, checking his watch for the umpteenth time that evening. This wasn’t the first time you were running late, in fact for the past month or so it had become a bit of a habit, you had even been coming home later than usual, blaming it on work.

Suddenly, Rafael heard his phone buzz in his pocket, he quickly answered without even checking who it was. “Cariño, are you on your way. I just ordered your favorite bottle of wine.”

“Awww Rafael, you shouldn’t have.” Sonny replied. The ADA rolled his eyes upon hearing your partner’s voice on the phone rather than yours.

“Sorry, Carisi. I thought you were Y/N. Speaking of which would you mind letting my fiancé go so she can come to dinner already.”

“What are ya’ talkin’ about counselor. Y/N left work early today, something about an appointment she had to make. She didn’t tell ya?”

“No, she didn’t.” Rafael softly said.

“Oh…..well, I’m sure it slipped her mind. Anyways the reason I called is because we’re getting close to the holidays and it’s always a slow time around the precinct. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me shadowing you on a case again.”

Sonny continued to ramble when you walked into the restaurant. Rafael barely listened to him, waving you over from the table. “Yeah, whatever Carisi. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He hung up the phone as you approached him, kissing his cheek.

“Sorry I’m late babe. I love Sonny but, my God, that boy can talk. I couldn’t get away from him.” You said, taking your seat across from Rafael.

He raised his eyebrow at you, “That’s funny...cause I just got off the phone with him. Carisi said you left work early for an appointment.”

You looked up from the menu in your hands over at your fiancé, your face turning red. “Oh….well.”  Rafael sipped his scotch, watching you squirm, he could tell you were lying. “You see….I had a doctors appointment….but I came back to work after that. “

“Sonny made it seem as if you didn’t come back to work.” The ADA said, quirking his eyebrow in suspicion.

“Well….. you know Sonny. He gets distracted. I mean the boy sees something shiny out of the corner of his eye and you’ve lost him. Anyways, let’s eat. I’m starving.” You said, quickly changing the subject as you picked up the menu again.

Rafael clenched his jaw, along with running late, you had been acting strange, always sneaking around and checking your phone. The other night you snapped at him for looking over your shoulder while you were working on your laptop. He stood there dumbfounded as you closed it quickly before storming off to the bedroom.  

The last time he had witnessed such behavior was back when he had been in a relationship with Yelina, which only ended in betrayal and heartbreak. It took a while, but Rafael had managed to open his heart to you. Your relationship was built on trust and love, he never imagined that you would be capable of cheating on him, until now. Not wanting to start a scene in the restaurant, Rafael decided to drop it and focus on his evening with you.

After dinner, the two of you made your way back home. Dropping your purse and phone on the kitchen counter, you headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. Rafael collapsed on the couch, kicking off his shoes and resting his feet on the table when he heard your phone buzzing.

The ADA stood up, moving over to the phone, the vibrations causing it to dance across the counter. Although he knew it would be a betrayal of your trust, Rafael couldn’t help himself and reached for it, two text messages popping up on your screen.

[Larry 9:02 PM]

“We’re all set for the week of December 16.”

[Larry 9:04 PM]

“You were so jumpy this afternoon. Relax, he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Rafael’s heart dropped into his stomach, his hands began to shake, the room suddenly spinning, as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “This can’t be happening to me,” he thought. After Yelina had left him for Alex, Rafael promised himself that he would never be put in this situation again and yet here you were cheating on him with a man named Larry. Who has an affair with a man named Larry?!  Apparently you did.

Rafael poured himself a glass of scotch before deciding it was better to keep a sharp mind when he confronted you with your indiscretion. He threw the glass in the sink, glass shattering everywhere, running his hands through his hair, the ADA stood there waiting for you to come out of the shower.

You emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, surprised when you didn’t see your fiancé relaxing in bed. Walking down the hall, you saw him standing in the kitchen, his green eyes cold as they pierced right through you. “Raf…. everything ok?”

“Who’s Larry?” Rafael demanded.

You stood there stunned, turning redder by the minute, “I….don’t…….know who you’re talking about.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Rafael boomed before taking a breath, trying to control his temper. “I saw your text messages. I know everything….I know all about Larry and the trip you’re planning in December. Did you really think you could hide this from me? How stupid do you think I am!?”

Now it was your turn to be angry at this blatant invasion of your privacy, “You read my text messages!? What the hell Rafael!”

“Oh so now you’re mad at me when you’ve been lying and sneaking around behind my back!” Your fiancé looked at you, a deep sadness settling into his frame, tears pooling in his eyes. “How could you do this to me after everything I’ve told you, after everything we’ve been through….you betray me.”

The realization that Rafael thought you were having an affair began to sink in, you stepped towards him, arms outstretched, “Raf, please let me explain.”

He shrugged you off, walking towards the door. “Don’t bother. I’m out of here.” You ran past him, almost losing your towel in the process as you blocked the door with your body. “Babe, please don’t leave. Just let me explain. Please I’m begging you! Please!”

He glared at you for a moment, rolling his eyes and moving towards the living room, sitting on the couch. “You have 5 minutes and then I’m gone.”

You ran to your bedroom, pulling a file out of your drawer before returning to the living room. Handing him the manila folder, you sat next to Rafael as he looked through the documents.

“What is this?” He asked, looking at various itineraries with a Cuban travel guide, hotel reservations, and plane tickets to Havana, one with his name on it.  “You’re planning a trip to Cuba….we’re…...going to Cuba. You and me?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday…...so ‘Happy Birthday,’ I guess.” You softly said.

Your fiancé stared at you, a stunned look on his face. “That’s why you’ve been sneaking around.”

“Larry is an old friend of my parents, he’s a travel agent that specializes in trips to Cuba. I’ve been working with him to plan our vacation.” You explained. “We just need to make sure all of our documents, visas, and travel plans are in order before we go so he’s been helping me with that.”

“Oh my God….Y/N...we’re going to Cuba!” He shouted, jumping up and down on the couch, as if he was a kid on Christmas.

You beamed, nodding your head. In all the years you had known Rafael, you had never seen him so excited. “We’re all set for the week of December 16th. Figured it would be a nice change of pace from our traditional week of skiing in Switzerland.”

Rafael kissed you sweetly, smiling against your lips before pulling away, a somber expression on his face, “I’m so sorry I ruined your surprise, cariño and I’m sorry I thought you were having an affair.”

“Don’t apologize, I can see how you would think that but I would never cheat on you. I love you so much. You’re my world, Rafi.”

“I love you too.” Rafael cupped your face, caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. “For the record, you’re a terrible liar.” He said with a smirk.

You laughed, “I know...but it’s not easy keeping secrets from you.” Biting your bottom lip, you looked up at him through your lashes. “So…..you like your present?”

“Like it...I love it cariño.” He purred, pulling the towel away to reveal your naked form. “In fact, let me show you just how much I love my birthday present.” Rafael scooped you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom where he showed you just how much he loved his surprise.

A couple months later, you and Rafael were on an airplane flying into José Martí International. The ADA was beside himself with excitement, his nose practically pressed up against the window, looking out at the lush green island surrounded by deep blue water. As your plane slowly descended he could make out the colorful baroque Spanish style buildings of Havana.

He could hardly wait to explore the city that his abuela had talked about for years with such affection. If he closed his eyes, Rafael could still see the faint trace of sadness in her eyes, she had always wanted to go back, to show her grandson where he came from. “I finally made it, abuelita.” He thought to himself, holding your hand tightly as the plane’s wheels met the pavement, the sound of the engine roaring in his ears as his body was pushed back into his seat.

Suddenly the flight attendant came over the PA system, “Señoras y señores, bienvenidos al aeropuerto de José Martí Internacional. La hora local son las cuatro y 23 minutos de la tarde y la temperatura es de 27 grados centígrados.” As the flight attendant continued to speak, you looked over at Rafael, he was beaming with tears welling up in his eyes. “Cariño, I can’t believe we’re here. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” He said, kissing your hand. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy Birthday, mi amor.” You kissed him sweetly, before unbuckling your seatbelt, the two of you ready to embark on your Cuban adventure.

Translation: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to José Martí International Airport. The local time is 4:23 pm and the temperature is 80 degrees.

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