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archivomeow · 9 months

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I miss you, I’m sorry.

TW: drug use mentioned, grief, mourning etc.

relationships: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov (past) Yelena Belova & Natasha Romanov (past),Yelena Belova & Maria Hill.

additional tags: grief, Natasha Romanoff Is Dead, Soft Yelena Belova, Maria Hill & Yelena Belova Friendship.

prompt (last two quotes): @prompts-in-a-barrel

read on ao3

——————

Yelena’s days have been blending forever, since the news of Natasha’s death reached her. The heavy feeling on her chest has not left ever since, even drugs didn’t help her anymore. The white powder was stashed all around the room, but she had no energy or intention of getting it, that would require to get out of bed, which she stayed in for the past two days. There was a small refrigerator in her apartment, that required her to get up too, so she didn’t eat much, only when she had to get up to the bathroom and passed it, it was convenient.

The feelings had nowhere to go, she felt as if she was sinking and now there was no one to save her, the one that would save her was the reason she was sinking. The only comfort she had was from looking at the old photos from the album, Melina gave her. It was all fake, but not for her, not for the girls in the photos and not for her now. She also called her sister, every once in awhile, just to hear her voice one more time, because what if she forgets how she sounds or looks? What kind of a horrible sister would that make her?

So that’s what she did, again and again and again, she figured maybe the Avengers were paying her phone bill, because if not the number would’ve been given to someone else. She hated the thought of it, she would pay for the bills herself if she could. Her eyes flickered across the room, as she breathed heavily, quitting is hard, but she has to, for Natalia. Yelena knew that her sister would hate to see her this way, with no energy to shower, eat, all she did was sleep and think to the point where she had a headache that refused to leave her, no matter how many medications she took, so she gave up, just like with everything else in life.

Because she saw no life besides Natasha and the blip made it this way, Natasha was gone and Yelena could do nothing, could not go back in time, could not save her big sister, like she saved her. Yelena stared at the bright screen that was the only thing giving off lights in her apartment. It was around 3AM, per usual. She slept through the day and was wide awake at night, ready to do what she does every night, call Natalia. She picked the number and put her phone against her ear as the phone rang and her breath got more and more shallow with each beep. She couldn’t stop the tears flooding into her eyes, as she thought of her sister, her poor poor sister.

Her breath stopped as the voicemail did not appear, instead a voice on the other end, a raspy voice, definitely of a woman, definitely not her sisters. Which she hoped for, she hoped to one day hear her voice, hear Natalia pick up, it was impossible, but she could always hope.

“Hello? Hello?! Who is this? What are you some kind of a stalker? This isn’t funny, you can’t keep calling this number, it’s not like she’s picking up.”

Yelena felt her throat getting tight, as she tried to figure out what she should say, the phone was definitely still owned by Natasha, her voicemail was there just yesterday, but who the hell has her phone?

“Um…” she cleared her throat as she tried to make the tears go away and focus. “I’m not a stalker… And I-I know she’s not picking up, okay?!” Her voice went from trembling and uncertain to upset, because how could they assume she was joking.

“Then who are you? And how did you even get Tasha’s number, huh?”

Tasha. Oh her dear dear Tasha, Yelena thought to herself as she wiped the tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

“It’s not saved? In her phone?” A bit of disappointed Yelena asked, because it was clear that her sister, in fact had not saved her number.

“It is, but she saved no numbers with names, so why don’t introduce yourself?” The woman seemed to soften up, by her tone, but that’s when Yelena realised she also had no idea who she was talking to.

“Yelena, Yelena Belova. And I would also like to know who I am talking to!” She demanded, her tone was uneasy as she kept switching between tough and soft. Her mind was a mess, you could see that and hear that, but she has a mission, find out who has Natalia’s phone and maybe get it back with some luck.

“Oh…Yelena.” The name sounded as if the woman said it a thousand times, but Yelena never even heard her, she may be grieving, but she hasn’t lost her skills. “My name is Maria, Maria Hill. I know that you, you don’t know me. But she talked about you all the time, at least before the blip… I left for the 5 years and…” The voice on the other end broke slightly down as she took a long deep breath in and out. “You already know what happens next.”

Yelena sniffed as she tried to think, did Natasha ever mention a Maria? No, no… she didn’t.

“Why do you have her phone? Who gave it to you? Who are you to her? Why did you pick up? What—“ Yelena went out and asked everything right away, Maria interrupted her as she started to explain.

“I’m Maria Hill-Romanov, her wife… That’s why I have her phone, it was given to me after she passed, along…most of her stuff, some got lost…” She paused for a second as she breathed heavily, trying to keep herself from falling apart or spiralling into a panic attack.

“I picked up, because you do this every night, every night around this time you call, sometimes twice. But you don’t expect an answer, do you?”

“No, no I do not. I just want to hear her, one more time. I don’t want to forget.” Yelena’s voice cracked mid-sentence.

“I understand.” Maria says as she moves the phone, possibly away from her face, Yelena could still her her slightly, the woman weeping on the other end.

“You can call here then. It’s okay, I pay the bill for her phone, so it won’t get disconnected as long as I’m alive.” Maria tried to comfort her, the best she could and she was not good in that. How could she comfort another if she couldn’t comfort herself, she thought.

Soon after that the call went silent, the two just sat there for good two minutes, crying and wiping their tears, but not being alone was their comfort, it was odd for sure, but grief is an odd feeling itself. You miss them, but you can’t get them back and you know it, but you don’t know it. And it sometimes takes you down or hits you when you hear their favourite song or see their favourite movie, you guys watched together a thousand times. It strikes you then, tries to keep you down, until you give up.

“You know… It’s strange I know she’s dead… I’ve accepted it, but no matter how much time goes by, I still feel like I’m just waiting for her to comeback.” Maria’s voice was shaky, the two stayed on the call together for two hours, for two hours they talked, cried and there was also silence, but it did not bother them.

However the call had to end, Maria had a job in the morning, she continued to work alongside Fury and whatever was left of SHIELD. She had to go and she hated to leave Yelena.

“It’s not strange, I feel the same. Like life stopped then she left and can’t start until she’s here again.”

#natasha and yelena #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #yelena belova #maria hill #blackhill #angst #hurt/comfort #grief #marvel #florence pugh #scarlett johansson #cobie smulders #ao3 writer #fanfiction writer

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otmaaromanovas · 1 year

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What are facts about each of OTMA+A that you find interesting?

Hi anon! Thank you for your question :)

Olga

Olga devised her own secret code for her diary, which she used to write about her favourite officers and crushes with. Although it's hard to decipher the code, comparing the diaries with her sister's writing can give us some clues to who she was writing about. Helen Azar has a great article about this!

A bonus fact about Olga is she could sometimes be cheeky and mischievous like Anastasia. There's a funny letter to Nicholas sent during WWI where she writes about how her and Anastasia 'locked Trina [Schneider]'s nasty little daughter' in the water closet and how she could hear her shouting at them down the hall!!!

Tatiana

Tatiana wearing a wig during 1913 is probably one of my favourite facts about her. It's one that I tell a lot of people when I show them photos of her and they are always surprised by it. These photos of her with her wig and her shaved head are some of my favourite photos of her. She was so effortlessly cool!

Maria

One fact that I bring up a lot when talking about haemophilia in the Romanov family is a story that Maria's aunt, Olga Alexandrovna, wrote about in her memoirs. She said that during an operation to remove Maria's tonsils, she started bleeding excessively, which greatly concerned the surgeons and doctors. This could be symptomatic of the haemophilia gene. I've attached a letter sent in English from Maria to Alexandra where she writes about her tonsils

Anastasia

This one is more of an anecdote than a fact, but during their imprisonment in Tobolsk, the children and entourage would often stage plays. Sidney Gibbes, who was the children's English tutor, wrote about how during one of these plays Anastasia was fooling around and having fun when a gust of wind entered the room and everyone saw she was wearing a pair of Nicholas' Jaeger underpants for the play!

Alexei

Alexei was a lot less sheltered than people think. Pierre Gilliard wrote extensively in his memoir that he came to an agreement with Nicholas and Alexandra to not shelter him from 'rough' games. Gilliard said he was worried Alexei would never grow into a good tsar if he didn't learn to test his limits and find the boundaries of his condition. There are some brilliant photos and videos of Alexei having fun which demonstrate just that!

Gifs from: @romanovdreams, video from: Helen Azar

Thank you again for this great question!

#q #answered #anon #facts #Olga Nikolaevna #Tatiana Nikolaevna #Maria Nikolaevna #Anastasia Nikolaevna #Alexei Nikolaevich #OTMA #OTMAA #Romanov

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nanasalt · 4 years

Photo

The uncomfortably blank white background is an integral part of a LinkedIn picture. (📷 : davymacknyc)

#anastasia the musical #dollypartonchallenge #anastasia memes #anya romanov #yeah i posted this on my IG if you're not following you should be #this meme isn't FUNNY or anything #but everyone i've seen has just picked random photos??#without considering the concept at all #and I made this as a joke but y'know...

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jagiellonczyk · 6 years

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When your mom buys you clothes and you have to try them on.

#nicholas ii #russia #history #funny #old photo #romanov

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krasivaa · 7 months

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Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna Romanova being very cute and goofy around in Alexandria, 20th June, 1897. ✨✨

#romanov #romanovs #olga alexandrovna #russian imperial family #romanov photos #royals being funny #old royal photos #vintage photography #1890s #1897 #20th June #june #20th june 1897 #alexandria #late 19th century #200697

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anastasiaofrussia · 3 years

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The Romanovs- Funny photos

#romanovdynasty #otma #royals #romanovs #history #grandduchess #romanova #royalkids #grandduchessmaria #grandduchessanastasia #grandduchessolga #anastasianikolaevna #anastasiaromanova #nicholas ii #imperial russia #russian #20 century

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annalaurendet70 · 3 years

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Letter written by Princess Alix of Hesse and by Rhine to her future sister-in-law,the Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna Romanova of Russia.

30 March 1894

"Darling Xenia

A tender kiss, best thanks for your dear letter and the charming photos. It seems too funny to think that you are about to be married. God bless you, my sweet Child, and may you have every possible happiness. Darling,why did you speak about that subject, which we never wanted to mention again? It is cruel as you know it never can be - all along I have said so, do you think it is not already hard enough, to know you are hurting first the person whom of all others you would long to please. But it cannot be - he¹knows it-and so do not I pray you, speak of it again. I know Ella will begin again, but what is the good of it, and it is cruel always to say I am ruining his life - can I help it, when to make him happy I should be committing a sin in my conscience. It is hard enough as it is, and beginning about it again is so unkind - You, who have found what your heart has desired, think only kindly of me, tho 'I am grieving you toо ... One worry and sorrow follows the other - in 5 days we are off to Coburg for Ernie's wedding - what my feelings are you can imagine. God grant they may be happy - she is such a dear. I am going to England for two or three months, as I would only be in their ²way here. The heat is great, but everything is so green and lovely and all the fruit trees in bloom - too beautiful, we spend many hours in the woods.

Goodbye, my little Chicken, many a loving kiss from your ever devoted old Alix. Best love to Sandro. "

📌 Content of letter ~ Alix was initially reluctant to marry Nicholas because she didn't want to renounce her Lutheran faith to join the Orthodox church.

📌 ¹ Tsarevich Nikolai Alexandrovich Romanov of Russia

📌 ² Grand Duke Ernst-Ludwig of Hesse and by Rhine and Princess Victoria Melita of Saxe-Coburg

📌 Chicken ~ Nickname of Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna Romanova of Russia

📌 Engagement of Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna Romanova of Russia and Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich Romanov of Russia ~ 12 January 1894

📌 Marriage of Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna Romanova of Russia and Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich Romanov of Russia ~ 6 August 1894

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authoressofdarkness · 3 years

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Under the Covers (Chapter 1)

“Do you really think there’s any way I’ll be able to be incognito for any amount of time? Aren’t you worried my ego will feel neglected from going unrecognized so long? Maybe I’ll blow my cover because I’m too desperate for attention.” “You’re not going to be going undercover. You’re going to be assisting our undercover agent.”

AO3

Someone tell me why I do these things. I swear. Blame @itfeelssogoodmrstark. Now I’ve gotta go work on finals goddamnit-

Narcissistic.

“We need your help, Stark.”

“And why would I help you?”

Self-destructive.

“Because we need you to. And you want these assholes off the street just as bad as we do. You’re the only one in the position to make this mission happen.”

“I’m the only person you consider expendable, you mean. I put myself in danger all the time, so it’s okay for you to do it, too, right?”

Doesn’t play well with others.

“That’s not what I said.”

“And yet that’s what you meant.”

A heavy sigh on the other end. “Hear whatever you’d like, I’m not going to argue with you. I need to know if you’re willing to do this or not, because you’ll need to meet your partner-“

“Partner? I thought I was too volatile to work with others. Besides, Iron Man doesn’t need a partner.”

“Well, we don’t need you as Iron Man. We need you as Tony Stark.”

Compulsive.

“And yet I remember hearing the exact opposite a few months ago. Funny how that works,” he snarks.

“What you do in that tin can isn’t what I need right now. We need something more subtle.”

“Subtle? What about me is subtle? Agent Romanov is the epitome of subtle. Even fooled me. Try her.”

Another sigh, then: “Not that subtle. We need the built-in status and resources that you have as your… distinguished self. That’s key to this mission, as is the partner. Now if you’re gonna ask questions, can you at least come in and debrief in person so I’m not wasting more of all of our time?”

And he has more questions, so he agrees. He’s nothing if not nosy. And it’ll be fun to string Fury along just long enough to get on his nerves even if he decides not to consult on this particular mission.

Consult, of course. That’s his job. He’s too much of a mess to be an Avenger. And that’s fine with him. He likes flying solo, doing things on his own terms, most of the time.

But he has agreed to consult on some cases. Partially because he owes Fury, and he doesn’t like owing people. He’d worked hard to get out of the debt of owing people after everything that happened with Obie. But he couldn’t deny Fury had saved his ass with the whole pallidum poisoning thing. He’d likely have died if left on his own.

And, well, partially because… yeah, maybe he has a bit of a hero complex. But something bothers him too much now about standing off to the side in any serious situation.

And these mutant drugs going around were certainly a serious situation. But he didn’t understand why blasting the drug lord to hell wasn’t going to be enough to handle it.

“So what’s the big idea, Fury?” he asks, a few hours later, as the elder man finally enters the conference room -- where they’d left him waiting for way longer than strictly necessary, he’s sure. “I don’t understand what the big hoopla is. Do you really think there’s any way I’ll be able to be incognito for any amount of time? Aren’t you worried my ego will feel neglected from going unrecognized so long? Maybe I’ll blow my cover because I’m too desperate for attention.” He bats his eyes at him, pulling a mock-sad face.

Fury doesn’t look amused. He drops a file down on the table in front of him. “You’re not going to be going undercover. You’re going to be assisting our undercover agent.”

“I don’t recall agreeing to do anything yet, so careful with all those orders, cyclops.” Tony sits up, dropping the facade in favor of reaching for the file. “What is this?”

“Case overview. Read it.”

“I already know as much about it as you do.” It’s true; he’d already been looking into this particular problem on his own before Fury had contacted him to ask him about consulting. Course, the fact that their interests were overlapping was about the only thing he knew so far, aside from what he’d figured out on his own, but Fury didn’t need to know that.

“Just read it, Stark.”

Tony does. He skims the file, frowning a little as he reads. Maybe they knew a bit more than he did, then.

The head of the operation, from what they could tell, was one Quentin Beck. Or at least, he was the highest part of the food chain that they knew of for now.

He was the man that Tony had landed on, as well. But SHIELD had more on the inner workings than he did. Some of the stock houses, the loading areas, some of the runners involved in the operation. More information about where Beck stayed, what social circles he ran in. He used to be a special effects coordinator, apparently, before he was swept into the life of crime. He had a background in technology and biochemical engineering. Interesting.

His profile was even more interesting. It looked oddly similar to his, in some ways. Narcissist. Compulsive. Playboy. Doesn’t play well with others. Likes to be the center of attention. Craves power.

“Interesting profile. Let me guess, Romanov wrote it too?” Tony deadpans.

Fury narrows his good eye at him, taking the file back. “Ha-ha. Believe it or not, the similarities in your personalities are part of why we need you.”

“Why? You want me to make friends with him?”

Fury shakes his head. “Beck likes power. He craves attention. He’s smart, he’s sly, and he’s worked years to get to where he is in the food chain. He sees our agents coming from a mile away every time we try to send someone in. He knows who the moles are as soon as they poke their heads out. Two weeks ago, one of our agents went in as a fake buyer and never returned. We can’t afford to keep going like this. We’re getting nothing. We’re losing our people and countless more are dying in the streets because of the shit he’s selling.”

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.” Tony tilts his head. “I can’t go undercover. You don’t want me to go undercover, you don’t want me to be friends with him. Am I supposed to be your next buyer? You think he’d buy that? Or do you want me to offer him something? Because I don’t sell weapons anymore, Fury. Not even for you.”

“No weapons. Nothing like that.” Fury pauses. “The long and short is, right now, Beck is untouchable. We can’t get anyone in to get any information and no one is rolling, even the few we’ve managed to get ahold of. He’s funneling his drug money through legitimate businesses, so there’s no proof. He’s covering his tracks well. But he does have one weakness.” Fury pulls a photo out of the file and slaps it on the desk in front of him.

Tony’s eyes drop to it instinctively, and he feels his mouth go dry. It’s a boy -- a pretty boy. Springy, messy curls, Bambi eyes, pouty lips, the whole nine yards. The photo is just a headshot, but he has a feeling that he’s just as lithe and pretty the rest of the way down as he is from the top.

But he’s also young. Obviously young. Mid-twenties, at the most, although he’s struggling to believe that he’s even that old.

He forces himself to swallow, lifting his eyes back to Fury. “Is that his kid?”

Fury barks out a laugh. “No. Not his kid.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet.”

That’s enough to jolt him back to his senses. Tony refocuses, raising an eyebrow. “Yet?” He doesn’t like the sound of this already.

“This is where your similarities come in handy, Stark.” Fury picks up the photo. “Beck has a penchant for pretty young things. Particularly taken pretty young things.”

“That’s sick.”

“That feeds his ego. He likes seducing them. He likes to play sugar daddy for them -- drugs or clothes or money or whatever it is they want in exchange for them making him look good and feel powerful. It’s a game to him. But he only likes high-quality things. The more powerful the men he takes them from, the better.”

“So?”

“So… we need to give him someone powerful to take him from.”

It hits him like a ton of bricks.

This is where your similarities come in handy.

Playboy.

“You can’t be serious. How old is he, twelve? I mean, really-”

“He’s twenty-three-”

“-he’s practically still in diapers. Probably still in school. Forcing him to play lap dog to someone like Beck is just… wrong.”

Fury sighs. “No one is forcing him to do anything, Stark. He knows what’s involved in the mission. I assure you no one will be making him do anything he doesn’t want to do. And he’s not still in diapers. He has a Bachelor’s in Biochemistry and is working on his Master’s.”

Tony blinks. “At twenty-three?”

“It happens. Look at you.”

Look at you.

Yeah, sure, but he’s never met anyone else near close to his level. And look at the amount of emotional damage he sustained from it.

“Fair,” is all he says aloud. “But he’s got so much potential. Surely he’s got better — less dangerous, less dehumanizing — offers. What’s he doing mixed up with SHIELD?”

“That’s for he and I to know and you to not worry about,” Fury says shortly. “All we need from you is to cohabitate and pretend to be together long enough to get Peter inside and for us to see this mission through. Are you going to do it or not?”

“Hold on, back up a sec. Cohabitate? You’re gonna make the poor kid move in with me, too?” Not that he has any qualms about giving the kid a place to live, per se — God knows he has more than enough for both of them. The space, the money, the resources. But that means he actually has to live with him.

He hasn’t had a partner in ages, one night stand or otherwise. Since his capture, he’s plagued by nightmares too much to sleep like a normal person, and letting anyone see the arc reactor or get that close to him, physically, in general is just one big no.

He and Pepper had tried, but there was just too much between them. She had a company to run. He was busy being Iron Man. They had barely seen each other. And when they had seen each other, it was always just… fighting about something or the other. That he was too reckless. That he was too isolated. That he didn’t trust her, that he needed therapy, that the way he lives is unhealthy, that he missed this or that meeting, that he drinks too much, that he just hid too much stuff.

She wanted to change him, and he couldn’t let her do it. He wasn’t ready. And part of him knows it’s stupid, unsustainable, unhealthy. But he’s not ready to face it all either. He still cares about her, of course, and she’s still the CEO of Stark Industries, and doing a damn good job at it. But the likelihood there’ll ever be a future there is slim to none. He knows that now.

Fury’s voice snaps him back to the present. “It has to look serious, Stark. He can’t just be a fling. Beck won’t take interest in that. We’ve already laid the groundwork for making him move in and making the whole shebang look believable. Now you just need to do your part. Let him stay with you at least a few nights a week, make a few public appearances together, and let him do his job. No one is saying you actually have to sleep with him -- although I admit I hadn’t expected you to seem so turned off from the idea.”

Tony doesn’t dignify that with an answer. “Are you sure this is the only option? Why can’t I just blast him into next week? Or you send Romanov in with her sweet talking to… I don’t know, poison his drink or something?”

Fury sighs. “We need to know what he knows. We need to know more about where the drugs are coming from. How. Why. Who’s involved. Everything. We only get one chance at this, Stark. You know how it works. He’s the highest person we know of that we have a chance of reaching. If he slips away, we’ll have to start over. We lose all our leads. More people die. This could give us everything we need to know. But he has to come to us. And the only way to get him to do that is bait.” He sets the picture back down on the table, jamming his finger into the middle of the kid’s forehead. “He’s fully prepared to do whatever it takes to do so. Are you, hero?”

Hero. It’s not said scathingly, exactly, but it’s clearly a challenge, all the same. A muscle in Tony’s jaw jumps before he forcefully unclenches it, letting out a breath. “So do I get to get his name before he moves in with me, or…?”

Fury smirks. He turns back to face the door he’d come through, raising his voice. “Parker!”

A moment later, the door opens again. This time, it’s the kid from the picture who enters.

He looks even more baby-faced in person. And yeah, he’s definitely just as lithe and gorgeous as Tony had imagined he would be. Great. Good to know.

He approaches the table they’re sitting at with short, fast strides, hands gripping the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder. He was already packed. They certainly banked on him saying yes, didn’t they?

He comes to a stop beside Fury, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stands there. “Hi!” he chirrups. “I’m Peter. Peter Parker. Big fan, by the way.”

Aaaand he’s a fanboy too. This just gets better and better.

“Tony Stark. But you knew that, I suppose.” He looks pointedly at Fury. “You’re going to send him undercover? You sure about this?” He just seems so… pure. Happy and outgoing and young and probably way, way too naive to be mixed up with SHIELD’s shenanigans.

“As sure as I was the first three times you asked.” Fury fixes him with one of his looks. “Are you gonna take him home or not?”

Take him home. Like he’s a puppy or something. Jesus.

Though puppy certainly wasn’t what Peter is thinking, if the way his cheeks color slightly is any indication. This kid is going to be the death of him, isn’t he?

“Yeah, I suppose so.” He stands, pushing the thoughts away. “You ready, kid?”

“All set, Mr. Stark.” Peter starts to make his way around the table, and Tony turns towards the door.

“You can’t do that,” Fury says, stopping them both in their tracks. “You’re gonna blow cover before you even establish it.”

Tony turns back to face him, exasperated. “We haven’t even left yet!”

“And you’re calling each other by formalities, walking with six feet of space between you, and letting him carry his own bag. Really, you’re not off to a great start.”

“What do you want me to do, hold his hand and shower him with kisses? We literally just met.”

Fury rolls his eye. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but don’t be so dramatic. You have to act like a normal, healthy couple. You don’t have to make out on the street, but you could walk beside the kid, for God’s sake.”

“I’m not normal or healthy anything. You should know that -- isn’t that what your agent said?”

Fury ignores him, standing up. He looks at Peter. “Better control your boyfriend, kid, before he blows your cover. I’ll call you when we’ve got a place for you to start.” With that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

They both stare at him as he leaves. It’s silent for a long moment before Peter turns around to face him, color still lingering slightly in his cheeks. “So, uh… ready to go, Mr.- uh… Tony?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go, kid.” Tony lets out a breath and heads for the door, but at a slower pace this time, letting Peter fall into step with him. He opens the door for him, then follows him out and leads the way back to his car. This… this is going to be something, but he isn’t sure if fun is the right word for it.

What had he just gotten himself into?

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#starker #under the covers #peter parker #tony stark #starker fanfiction #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider fanfic #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #undercover au #mcu au

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otmacamera · 4 years

Photo

Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna and Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna at the Winter Palace in Saint-Petersburg, 1st January - 16th April 1902.

"Her [Olga] only knowledge of shops and shopping was derived from the toy and sweet shops in Darmstadt. One day she asked me why the Americans spoke English, not American. I told her the story of the Pilgrim Fathers, and described how they built houses and shops, and so made towns. She was exceedingly interested and inquired, "Where did they find the toys to sell in the shops?" I was reading "Alice in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking-Glass" to them lately, and she was horrified at the manners of the queens. "No queens," she said, "would be so rude." When I read about Alice's journey by railway she was exceedingly amused, and thought it very funny that she had not a compartment to herself. I told her in travelling each person took one ticket and occupied just one seat in the train, and told her some tickets cost more than others, and the highest-priced tickets meant a better place in the train. She listened and said, "And when you travel can anyone with the same kind of ticket you have get into the same carriage as you do? "I told her, "Yes." So she said, " If I were you, I should take a whole compartment for myself." I said, "But you forget that these other people might object to me, and say, 'I won't sit beside that person.'" "Oh no," said she. "Everyone in the whole world would be glad to sit beside you." Lately she was reading some little stories from English history; she read about the English cutting off the Welsh Prince Llewellyn's head, and sending it to London. She was awfully shocked, and read the story again. Then she exclaimed, " Well, it was a good thing he was dead before they cut off his head; it would have hurt him most awfully if he was alive." I said that they were not always so kind, and sometimes cut the heads off living people, and later she would read of them doing such things. She said, " Well, I really think people are much better now than they used to be. I'm very glad I live now when people are so kind." "

Eagar, M. (1906) Six years at the Russian court. New York : Charles L. Bowman & co, pp.159-161.

Photo from: Tsar Nicholas II 1900 - 1903 Album You can also find more here : Last Romanovs VK

#1902 #Olga Nikolaevna Romanova #Tatiana Nikolaevna Romanova #big pair #saint petersburg #winter palace

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otmaaromanovas · 1 year

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Why do you like The Romanovs?

hello anon! thank you for your question

I think that there are three parts to my answer, so I’ll split them up here

How I discovered them

I totally did not expect in any way to be into this history, so it was a total surprise for me, which intrigued me more! I was hesitant about signing up for my history course when I found out it had a Russian history section as I’d never studied anything like it before so didn’t expect to enjoy it very much. But from the first lesson, I fell in love with it. From there it felt like every new thing I learnt was awesome because I totally didn’t expect to like it. My history teacher mentioned Alexei and struggled to remember OTMA’s names, so I jotted them down, then researched from there. I’m one of those people who likes to write down anecdotes and asides then go on rabbit holes researching them, which definitely happened here :) three years later still very, very obsessed!

2. Sources and misinformation

We are very lucky that there are copious primary sources on the Romanovs - letters, diaries, thousands of photographs, newspaper articles, video footage, autobiographies and memoirs - I’m always looking for new things to learn and very fortunate that I am often to able to discover them! The photographs and private albums of the Romanovs are what first really sparked my interest. To have a royal family so keen on photography and those photographs actually surviving is wonderful!! There’s a taste of domesticity, particularly in the children’s albums, which feels unimaginable. The best way I can describe it is that, for example, when I see in albums Tatiana taking photos of her puppy Ortipo or Anastasia pulling a funny face I can giggle and think ‘yeah, I do that!’. It crosses the distance in time and status and makes them appear human, rather than royals in history book pages.

Also, there’s something fun in trying to uncover the real history, rather than the sensationalist and dramatised views which is presented in western media. Whenever I mention what my main area of study is the questions usually instantly concern Anastasia or Rasputin, so being able to provide more context to curious people is a cool added bonus. There’s also a bit of unravelling to do with the history. Lots of 20th century biographies tend to be riddled with hyperbole and a rather heavy amount of misogyny (especially towards Alexandra), go unpicking that and trying to find the most accurate interpretations keeps me on my toes.

Lastly, there are some crossovers with my other areas of interest, especially LGBTQ+ history. So many Romanovs, from the 15th - 20th centuries had complex identities and sexualities, with some even writing very candidly about it. These are invaluable sources that I’m incredibly grateful have survived, especially in today’s political climate in Russia. It’s evidence that no amount of repressive laws and propaganda will change Russia’s undeniably queer past.

3. Connections

Researching OTMA leads to lots of other Romanov people, such as Olga Alexandrovna, Mikhail Alexandrovich, Pierre Gilliard, etc. When names start cropping up often when I’m researching, it’s fun to have a look into their lives too, and understand why they were important to the Grand Duchesses. From this there’s a whole other world of the Romanovs apart from OTMA who lived very different and very rich lives which are fascinating to explore. I buy books about Nicholas II and his family occasionally these touch on other characters, for example, historians like Charlotte Zeepvat really bring to life the lesser talked about Romanovs and suddenly their lives are incredibly vivid, too!

I’m always so surprised by how much Romanov-related stuff and Imperial Russia crops up in general history. Whether it’s history of fashion, agriculture, social, politics, etc, you’re guaranteed that they’ll be a touch of Tsarism that influenced it. It’s so fascinating seeing how deep-rooted this empire was in history and then contrast that with its downfall.

I think it’s also important to note that I am, of course, very distances from this history. There’s a huge discrepancy between my life and Imperial Russia, both in terms of geography and policies. In a way, I think that I love it ‘from a distance’, not so much in love with the period itself or it’s people (with OTMAA being the exception), but with its history, legacy, and story.

This was *very* long winded but I had some time to reflect, and it was fun to think about! Sorry for overloading you, anon! I’d love to know what other people think and what makes the Romanovs so intriguing to them :)

#q #answered #anon #romanov

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labelleizzy · 4 years

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I know you said it's only in notes so far but BLEAS tell me more about "What Happens At Stark Tower Stays At Stark Tower" ---- do you have any official named characters yet??? I need this so bad OMG

Oh wow, thanks I love that someone else digs the idea!

What Happens at Stark Tower, Stays at Stark Tower, WIP

Elevator speech version: The folk who work cleaning up the Avengers personal spaces are all ex military with extremely high security clearance. They've been there, done that, everywhere around the world. They don't impress easily, but they're loyal, and merciless in roasting Tony Stark behind his back or to his face.

Tony likes to say he's their scratching post. :)

This started from a discussion on tumblr:

cumaeansibyl:

you know how there is a bunch of fanfic about the Avengers having big rowdy parties up in Stark Tower and possibly orgies depending on the rating

I am imagining the housekeeping staff coming in the next morning and finding everyone sprawled around in various states of hangover and mess like “ugh, not again”

(Thor is the only true morning person on the squad and also the least vulnerable to fatigue/inebriation so he cheerfully helps “clean” by carting the others off to their rooms so the housekeepers can vacuum)

(the others are not super thrilled about this but it is not like they want to do it themselves so whatever)

(one of them might secretly enjoy it! it is your guess as to who!)

apparently when I get interested enough in a fandom I start wondering what it is like for the cleaning crews who have to deal with the main cast’s bullshit because I have definitely gone off on this tangent for Star Trek before...

(me)

(this… um. this is something I could write.)

cumaeansibyl:

be my guest! but the housekeeping staff has to be a squad of extremely competent middle - aged ladies who are not fazed by anything but definitely talk the most shit over break

I mean, nothing less would do for Stark Industries HR

(me)

(Trust me I know competent shit talking middle aged ladies, being one of the cohort myself. And I always have loved backstage stories.)

they're Dolores and Chen and Joey and Margaret and Lupita. Someone says, “Hey Dolores! Get a load of THIS!” in a new jersey accent. Possible things: a pile of hork in an interesting location, a pair of Avengers cuddling *unexpected pairing bonus* like Bruce and Clint, Tony and Rhodey, Rhodey and Darcy, Jane does not get left in any compromising positions because Thor tenderly removes her tiny drunken body, flailing and mumbling, to their suite well before any cleaning ladies turn up. The cleaning ladies do not even realize she lives there, though they have observed all sorts of shenanigans.

Of course the cleaning staff for the Avengers personal quarters have the highest possible clearance and the strictest possible screening processes.

What it turns out to be is the cleaning ladies are mostly ex - military who have fallen on hard times. They do sign NDA’s when they are hired, so that means they can not gossip about what they see except amongst themselves, and can not talk to journalists, And they are HARSH, and funny, snarky as hell.

They’ve seen Tony in the most foolish of passed out positions, and have resisted the temptation to take photos (mainly because they have to leave or check all electronics at the desk before they start work.

One of the benefits (aside from amazing ACTUAL benefits) to the position is scoring an annual invitation to the Stark Industries Holiday Gala, formalwear provided, hairdos provided, and Clint and Steve and Thor will always dance with the ladies, because they know them and trust them. Once a year Tony brings each of them a champagne flute, kisses them on the cheek, and takes selfies with the women. He knows how much he owes them. He hears them sometimes as they work around his drunken stupor, he knows they fucking keep their mouths shut and it is not just because he pays them well or because they’ve signed NDA’s.

They’re kind of like a collection of snarky aunties cleaning up after the children who are on holidays after a long hard semester away at school.

these ladies deal really well with the robotic accoutrements Tony is frequently inventing to make their lives easier. They do love the cleaning solutions and the floor scrubbers and polishers and the automatic plant waterers and their job is not really very horrible and they do get an in somewhere that millions of fans wish they could have an in, and they know the Avengers as Mister Stark, Captain Rogers, Agent Barton, Agent Romanov, Agent Coulson, Doctor Banner, Doctor Foster, Miss Lewis, and they just call Thor “Sir” in that way that veterans just give it up to a superior officer who they have reason to respect deeply.

#wip tag #my wips #stark tower #tony stark has a heart #badass ladies #badass women #badass lady ocs #thank you for asking!!#my words

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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Rasputin And His Queen (Steve Harrington x fem!reader)

Description: Everyone loves Halloween. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone - the kids LOVE trick or treating, teenagers love Halloween parties and the adults love both decorating the house and to have a nice, calm night. And since one particular day, Steve Harrington fell in love with that day as well.

A/N: Inspired by Boney M’s song Rasputin bcs why not?

A/N 2: Celebration of Halloween and The King Man’s Rasputin except I am late to both parties. And I ooop.

AU where Nancy and Steve broke up before the summer break and not on the Halloween party of 84’. Just pretend that it was a normal summer party. His friendship with Dustin is still on thin ice, season 2 hasn't started officially in this one-shot.

Warnings: Billy acting like a fucking shithead he is.

The commies, the Russians, red swines - no matter how you decided to name them, they were hated in the USA. But from time to time, you still met a Russian in your country or those who ran away from Ukraine - and most of the time, they were cool.

And since you were small, your mom took care of an old Russian lady named Anna - even if your dad wasn't very fond of your mom friending with someone who was born in Russia, your mom decided that Anna needs her help. She was old, fragile and barely took care of her. You spent every Wednesday and Sunday with that lady, you were at her place and when you were lucky and Anna was able to speak with you, she was telling you about Russian history. Her English wasn't exactly the best, but over time, you learned how to understand Anna.

No, she was not telling you stories of Lenin or Stalin, not about the commies, no. She was talking about the history of the old, great Russia, she spoke about the last czar family of the Romanovs. When you were older, she even told you about the big rumors going about the family’s relationship to a strange man named Rasputin. She was old enough at the time to remember the time when the dynasty was ruined and practically burned down, how they hunted every one of them.

Her mother was very fond of the czar imperial family, so Anna could even show you some photos of the family. It was a fairytale you didn't have in the USA - a big royal family with beautiful women, something like princesses, big balls, a beautiful dress, and the most expansive jewelry. You loved to listen about the tsars even if you had to keep your mouth shut.

And when Anna had died in the March of 84’ at the age of 87, you wanted to show her some respect without the others telling you that you might be a commie - so you decided to do it on the Halloween night. You started the preparations very early - you had a big crown on you had made from old jewelry and some shining stones, you used old shirts she gave you in her will. They were old and from Russia, there was a corset decorated with flowers and shirts that showed way more than they hid.

But when you were done with your costume, it looked pretty lit - the upper part was an imitation of Alexandra Foedorovna's dress from one photo, but you decided to have pants decorated with jewelry and high boots instead of a dress.

You kept the costume as a secret - only your mom and your best friend knew about it. Your mom found it nice - your best friend was a bit worried about it. But is suited you like hell when you had the perfect hairstyle and the right make-up.

You had your gang at school - it was you, your best friend Clara, and two boys - Steve and Lenny. Steve joined you after his break up with Nancy Wheeler, who was a really nice and beautiful girl, and ever since, you hung out really often.

It was basically the last Halloween you were able to be together - after that, Clara was going to NYC, Lenny was moving out to Alaska and you were going on a college in a near town. So that Halloween had to be perfect.

You knew Steve Harrington since you were a small child - that was the curse of growing up in a small town named Hawkins, Indiana. Estimated population? 30.000 people - maybe more, maybe less. There was a shit-ton of weird things going on in the last two years. But yeah, you knew almost everybody from your neighborhood. And since Steve was living in the house next to you, you had some pretty cringy photos and memories together.

But you only saw him as the neighborhood who sometimes greeted you as you grew up, but it became blatantly obvious when he joined your group of friends. Clara could tell right away that he has those puppy eyes for you only and that finds you funny and cute as hell. But you just laughed at that - you were sure that when he gets the first option to leave your group for better, more popular friends, he will just do that without thinking.

But as the time passed by, Clara and Lenny caught Steve stare numerous times, he was laughing at things you've said that weren't even a bit funny and he always ASKED you to help him with studies and homework. Every time you told your gang that you have to watch over your younger, dumb sister, he volunteered to take you both out - to watch a movie, to just hang out at the playground or to grab some food. And you usually accepted his offers - but you never saw the real reason behind that.

When he saw you walking down the hall with a smile on your face, telling Clara something that happened, he liked the way you looked and presented yourself. For the first week, he was telling himself that it is only the shock from breaking up with Nance - that he is only searching for a pretty face to like. But then he started his long-forgotten childhood friendship with you again - he took only small steps at a time. It officially had started when you met up at Burger King to have a study night.

Since then, he was not only a member of your gang; but he felt something. Some nudge in his head telling him that there is something about the girl with two ponytails and shiny swimsuit he had on a photograph in his childhood album.

Steve could just tell you how he felt, serve it on a silver plate or just kiss you already; but you two were seriously too dumb for that.

The final nail in the coffin was when Steve waited for Clara outside the chemistry class just to ask her this:

"Do you know what is Y/N wearing for this Halloween?" - He leaned next to her cabin with his shoulder, chewing on a piece of gum. Steve, the Great Hair™ Harrington was trying to look as cool as he could, not giving too much away. But Clara could tell that he's nervous while he asked that question.

"I do. Why?" - She took out the book she had to read for English and which she decided she will continue with during the lunch break.

"I just want to surprise her by doing... A pair costume? I was just saying that she might find it funny?" - Steve shrugged his shoulders and took his sunglasses off. Idiot. He didn't really know how to wear them, did he? - "So... Will you tell me or you'll leave me hanging? I really don't want to go ask her mum this afternoon."

Clara chuckled and walked the hall down with Steve. Jesus, that boy was willing to sacrifice his dignity just to find out what you're Halloween costume is. And that you'll find it funny? Sure you will. And maybe it will fucking finally release the tension which is at the table in the cafeteria while Steve sits on the other side of the table and watches you like a statue from the antique Rome. There was this electricity which he was sending your way, but you were totally numb to pick up on.

"Under one circumstance, dear Harrington." - Clara rose her eyebrows and walked the hall alongside the big basketball jock. Steve sighed and looked at her.

“I am not going to drive you to school every single morning, Clara. Not happening.” - Steve shook his head with a frown. Clara left out a burst of genuine laughter.

“You will ask her out finally. That's the deal - if you don't, you will be explaining Mrs. Y/L/N why you need to know what is her daughter wearing for Halloween so desperately.” - She turned to the lab, he copied Clara’s moves and almost took down a girl who wasn't watching her way. Steve looked shocked - that was the first time Clara could see him like that.

“Take her out? We’re out like.. All the time.” - He said without a clue. Clara rolled her eyes, caught his upper arm and stopped him pretty aggressively.

“Now listen to me, Harrington, because I am not gonna repeat myself. I am sick of how in love you look when she sits her ass on the opposite side of the table, how you run with her everywhere she goes like a lovesick puppy and how desperately you want to bang her or kiss her, I don't really care, Harrington. All I know is that she is my best friend and that you genuinely want to make her happy because if you didn't and just lost your interest in her, then this whole fucking thing wouldn't be going on for almost four months. Are we clear?” - Clara burst at him so quickly that steve froze down and looked at her in shock.

She was right in every single point. It was only a rumor that Steve the Idiot™ Harrington is still a ladies man or that he is doing it for the fame - all he wanted was just a few good friends and a loving girlfriend.

“I don't want to... Only bang her.” - Steve stuttered out in shock. Clara opened up her mouth and then shut it tight again. Was she too hard on Steve? He was as red as an Italian tomato and he was looking everywhere except her eyes.

“That is not the point, you idiot!” - She dragged him to the side of the corridor. - “The point is that I want you to date already, dipshit!”

“Hey, do not be so harsh, I understood what you mean. You just looked like you want to murder me and I just didn't know what the hell should I say dingus.” - Steve answered aggressively as well, which made Clara shut up for a second as well. Ok. So Steve was able to defend him, which made her smile.

“Will you ask her out if I tell you?” - Clara offered him her hand and Steve looked at it with a frown. - “That is the deal. Take it or leave it, asshole.”

And like that, he just made a deal with the devil called Clara by the locals who happened to be your bestie as well.

“Alexandra Feodorovna. The last big czarina of Russia. You have two options.” - Clara started talking when they slowly moved towards the classroom again. - “Either you can go as her husband, Nicholas Romanov or the mystical ladies man Rasputin.”

“Rasputin? Like that Europian song? Russia’s biggest love machine?” - Steve joked a bit but turned his smile down when he saw her risen eyebrows. - “How did they look like? Where should I look it up?” - He asked desperately. But Clara didn't answer as she walked into the classroom.

There you were again, dressed in your prettiest sweater and the prettiest jeans ever, your hair resembling Joyce Byers’s in a way, but it looked... Hot on you. You smiled at them and started to ramble about yesterday’s chemistry test - which Steve completely fucked up.

That evening Steve the Dingus™ Harrington did something he thought he would never do - he visited the library for the first time ever. The librarian lady looked him up and down like she couldn't actually believe her eyes.

“Can I do something for you?” - She, Mrs. Remsay, looked almost amazed by Steve Harrington visiting the library.

“Yes. Definitely, you can. Where can I find the history of the Romanovs? They're supposed to be a... Russian royal family of cars?” - Steve smiled at her nervously. Great. Now, she will think that he is a commie. Or that he is planning to be one. - “It is... For a Halloween costume, Mrs. Remsay. I swear to God that I am not with the Russians.”

“First of all, no offense, but you don't have the capacity of being a Russian spy. The Romanovs were a czar dynasty, not cars. Second of all, those books are in historic literature and third of all, five books at a time.” - She gave him a library card with a smile. Steve took it from her small palm without anything to say - she just ultimately called him dumb. But yeah, he probably hadn't got the capacity of being a Russian spy - even his essays sucked.

He sat there the whole afternoon, going through three to five books about them. Only one had a picture of that mysterious man Rasputin he knew about only from a disco song - and god, wasn't that man weird?

But what needed to be done, that needed to be done. Steve did his best - he got himself a fake beard, got an old coat which looked like it is going to fall apart any minute and rosemary with some pants and boots. When he looked at himself, he needed to say that it isn't that bad after all - but he wasn't as weird as that man.

You decided to meet up at your place - Clara was dressed up as Cleopatra who was mummified and was brought back to life, so she had loads of toilet paper and gazes around her along with some crazy make-up and a crown in her hair. Lenny was going as his superhero idol, Batman. And he did look funny.

But you definitely took the longest to prepare - Anna always told you that czarina Alexandra was a breathtaking young woman who was beautiful and you wanted to do her justice. Only braiding your big czarina crown and the veil going with that, falling on your back, took you more than half an hour. Then the make-up, small details... You took three hours to get done, but you were perfect. Your little bratty sister almost yelled that she wants you to take it all off so she could be the queen, but your mother didn't let her.

When you slowly walked the stairs in your house down, you were breathtaking, at least to Steve. He gulped when he saw your neck drowned under all the jewelry and shiny diamonds, your crowned head and the boots with a slight wedge, so you weren't exactly walking high heels, but it made your legs optically longer and your ass more standing out.

You chuckled when you saw Steve. Was he who you thought he was?

But before you could ask, there was the Polaroid taking time™ your mother loved and you hated completely. Your mom made all of you make several pictures - you and your sister dressed like a ladybug, you and the Cleo, you and Bat-Man and finally, you and Steve. And didn't you two look like a photo of Alexandra and her devoted healer?

Steve really tried his best to copy that man’s posture and expression as he held the rosemary in front of his chest, his eyes wide open, only so you would have the best picture you could. You posed on a chair with a blank stare into the oblivion - you two really did the best you could.

It was a beautiful photo which you knew that you'll have on your wall with memories. You left the house around six with your mom screaming "be back by ten and not a minute late, young lady" at your back. You walked to Steve’s car so he could drive all four of you to Tammy's house.

She had a crush on Steve since ever and pinned after him since he and Nancy broke up. You hoped the best - Tammy wasn't exactly the nicest, but she wasn't a both either. You two never really got along, but you hoped for the best for Steve.

"So... Uh... Nice costume? - You chuckled while Steve drove the car like a maniac and you needed to hold the crown on the top of your head. - "Who you are?" - You asked again and Clara shifted forward on her seat to listen closely to your conversation.

Steve way really enjoying himself, he was excited about that evening a lot since you were there with him, but at the same time, Billy Hargrove's appearance at the party was making him a bit uneasy. He didn't like that guy - to be honest, he was almost shitting himself around Billy. That boy was a fucking maniac. Steve had a feeling that something is going to fuck up at that party.

"Can't you tell? I am the man from that song. That love machine, that's all me." - He chuckled unsurely and tried to do have a calm expression at the moment. You will see through his lies in a moment and he KNEW THAT.

"So you heard Bonney M's song playing and just told yourself that you'll be Rasputin? That's what you want me to think?" - You laughed. - "Such a coincidence while I'm dressing up as the queen he was rumored to be the lover of, Harrington. Who told you?"

"The wind, I guess?" - Steve looked from the window because you gave him those shiny eyes and a big, bright smile.

"I think it's nice of you. To do a pair costume, I mean, nobody ever done that with me." - You smoothed his shoulder lightly and then looked away. Clara just nudged his chin with her fingers, motioning that NOW'S the chance, but he shook his head and showed her his middle finger up so she would shut. Ok. She and Lenny have a plan on how to get you together anyways, so Steve being a dumb shy bitch wasn't a problem really.

The truth was that there was something magical about Halloween nights. Everyone got dressed up and pretty, they were the costumes they wore and not the people in them. Halloween nights were the best in your life since you were a kid. Your dad always took you trick or treating along with Steve and Deborah, a girl down your street who now was a total bitch. You always wore the same costumes - Steve was a great basketball player, you were a Daisy and Deb was a witch.

The best days of your life - you were just a bunch of friends who ADORED each other. Now, you were just thrown back to those days with Steve walking by your side as Rasputin while you were the queen, your hand always close to each other. But you were too dumb to hold them.

"Can I get you something, your majesty?" - He bowed a bit, making you chuckle a bit.

"A cup of cola would do the trick, my dear." - You patted his shoulder. Steve turned away before you could see that he has that dumb smile on. If there weren't so many people, he would perform the dumb victory dance he did only when he was alone. Steve the biggest ladies man Hawkins ever saw™ Harrington actually did a happy dance around a lot.

A lot of girls actually crossed by and told you that your costume is on point. Yeah. You didn't like when someone was telling you that he's the best... But your costume was DEFINITELY the best out there. The most thought through and the nicest in visage. Plus Steve had done what he had done.

But then you heard someone arguing in the back as you waited next to a living room turned into a dance floor for Steve and your Cola. You looked at Clara with a frown before stepping there.

"And you and your costume? You're just pathetic. Little. Child. Harrington!" - You heard a known voice. It was Billy Hargrove's voice - he was the current tyrant of the Hawkins high school, with his racist, irrational mind.

"Who asked you about your opinion, Hargrove? Keep it to yourself and go home. You're fucking drunk." - And at that moment, you saw as Billy pushed Steve down on a small table, prepared to give him a punch. Everyone froze down for a moment, looking at the two of them before the first gasps of "Billy!" could be heard.

"Stop!" - Nancy Wheeler suddenly jumped between them and tried to tear them apart, but another girl and Johnathan Byers, her current boyfriend, local weirdo and the best photographer you've seen had to help her. - "What the fuck is your problem?!" - Nancy yelled at him, stepping in front of Steve to protect him as she didn't let Hargrove from her stare.

There was something about Nancy Wheeler and you needed to admit that whether she was your best friend's ex who totally broke his heart of the girl you sometimes smiled at in the corridor. There was something about her.

"Steve fucking Harrington is my fucking problem!" - Billy yelled back at her. The situation was getting boiling hot. - "And if you don't get out of the way, your pretty face gets hit as well!"

"If you don't stop treating her, I'll punch your perfect teeth out!" - Jonathan screamed at him which made everyone shut up again. You could barely hear Byers speaking. He was never yelling or raising his voice. - "If you don't back off, Hargrove, I swear that I'll kick you like a little bitch and I that I'll fucking enjoy... Every... Single... Second." - Steve pointed at him and took the same defending position in front of Nance, just a foot away from Billy's face.

You watched Steve with amazement. He was so brave at that moment. He appeared to be so strong and big... To be the protector. And he was protecting the person he hated the most at the moment, even if it wasn't her fault.

"I think you should leave, Billy." - Tammy stepped out of the corner from where she watched the whole situation with fear in her eyes. - "Come around later, man."

And with that, Billy screamed like if he went completely mad at the moment. He was like a little child walking away at a fast pace, shutting the door so quickly that the window next to it shook. Before Nancy had even a chance to speak with Steve, you walked up to him, catching his face in your palms like you were about to kiss him.

But you didn't, you only checked for bruises or blood. You checked that he's alright. And Steve was, he really was, only his back hurt like a bitch since Billy pushed him on a wooden table.

"Steve Harrington." - You sighed dramatically. - "I know that you are a dingus and a friend who always makes me laugh... But this was fucking brave." - You nodded. He turned his face away with a cocky smile and a smile yes on his lips. As your hands slide on the coat which was practically falling apart, you caught his shoulders.

And he felt it. The first bolt of electricity that came from you. Steve could know it because of your eyes - they jumped from his eyes to his lips and you were leaning in like you asked him for permission. But Nancy came next to you and she made you jump away from Steve.

He watched you walk away, your cheeks were reddening as you nervously smiled, shook your head and then you just disappearing in the crowd. His heart sank. Was this the only bolt he was going to get from you? And did Nancy just fuck it up too?

"Thank you, Steve." - She smiled at him in a typical Wheeler manner and smoothed his elbow. - "Thank you for doing this to me. It was nice, I really appreciate it. And about Y/N..." - She looked behind her shoulder and nudged his. - "You guys are incredibly cute together. Go get her and make sure you're doing it properly. Show how great you are." - She leaned in to kiss his cheek and rose her thumbs up before leaning into Jonathan's hug.

Steve looked at Nancy and she only smiled wider, nodding to tell him that he should go. That was when Clara's while came as she leaned to the big stereo.

"Cover me! Lenny! Cover me!" - She yelled, balancing on her right foot, putting the cassette inside. She almost sold her soul to the real devil before she got it, but she managed to get it out of one boy that was pinning after her like hell. So Lenny stood in front of her leaned ass and tried to cover her with his cloak.

When Clara was done, a burst of victory laughter could be heard out of her posh lips. She stood up and pressed play while she leaned her shoulder into the cabinet beside her and Lenny. - "Now, just fucking watch."

You looked around the room when an uptown disco started to play. It was something from the last decade - and all you could was just to laugh when you realized that it's Bonney M's Rasputin. You covered up your mouth. Steve sneaked up beside you so stealthy you almost gave him a slap.

"It looks like someone..." - With that, he looked at Clara with a dead stare. - "Is playing my song. So... Do you wanna?" - Steve smiled at you and he walked to the dancefloor backward. For a moment, you watched him with your eyes partially closed and with a strange smile, but then you walked up to him. Even if the disco rhythm was unbelievably rhythmic and fast and made a lot of people immediately dance, your steps remained slow as you put your hand on Steve's chest, walking around him in a circle, not leaving a single centimeter out of your touch. Jesus, he was burning at that moment.

Then, instead of jumping around, your left palm rose his right and you left it up as you started to walk in circles. He saw that. In a romantic movie, his mom was watching on the TV - some noble princess lady or who danced like that century ago. But when you smiled at him from below the crown in that low light with your reddened cheek, he didn't find it cheesy. It was just... Hot. Hot and sensual.

Then you changed your hand and walked in the other direction.

"I am the czarina, remember?" - You giggled. - "And you're apparently my lover as the lyrics say."

Steve giggled as well, looking around. Clara and Lenny were intensely watching both of you with a big smile, just as a few other people around. They weren't laughing at you, they found you cute as hell. You changed the direction again.

"I sure as hell am, my lady." - Steve answered with a dumb smile, but before he could continue, you took his hand with a laugh and started to spin around, moving your body in the rhythm.

You were everything Nancy couldn't be to Steve. Just a young girl enjoying life, laughing, being happy. And that fool was just in love with you. He danced as well, completing your improvised choreography. Everyone yelled the refrain as loudly as they could, slowly progressing to the last verse of the song. You took his palms into yours and started to slowly leaned in, still singing and getting so close that you caught his shoulders into your palm.

"Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine, and so they shot him 'til he was dead ." - Everyone yelled and just before the Jamaican singer could say "Ah, those Russians", your lips were on his and your eyes were closed as you hung on his shoulders, making him catch your waist, so he could lean in as well. You, girl, you were the most desperate and the best kisser he has ever kissed until that night.

When you leaned away with your eyes shining and a big, beautiful smile on your lips, he knew that it's his time to get over with his part of the deal before Clara cuts his balls off.

"Well, when we finally made it all clear." - He stood up and looked around. Nobody was staring at you and Clara was changing the cassette again. - "Do you want to hang out? Like a date hang out? Just... I mean, you, me, movie and dinner or something like that?" - He stuttered out as he put you down on the ground. You made a shocked face and caught his face to your hand again, playing with the fake beard.

"Wouldn't you want to know, lover boy?" - You giggled and pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"After all of this? I want you to take me out as soon as you can."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #halloween imagine #stranger sthings #stranger things au #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #billy hargrove #rasputin #by boney m #inspired by

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