#this is my 100th post here... thanks for hanging out and reading my shit everyone

[cold-heart-warm-writings]

A winter storm emergency has been placed into effect for the surrounding area until 7pm on Saturday. Please avoid going out if possible, make sure to drive slow, and wear weather appropriate clothing to protect yourself from the cold.

You glance over at Nanami, a grin breaking out over both of your faces. You both had the rare occurrence of being told to go home a few hours early from work to avoid the worst of the traffic and snow that had been piling up for the past six hours. 

“I don’t have to work tomorrow, and now I have an excuse to cancel my plans and stay warm inside. What are you up to tomorrow?” You asked him, a crashing sensation of hope and joy swelling up inside you. With schedules that varied and conflicted so much, it was sometimes a challenge to carve out time for just the two of you. Then, when you did manage to carve out the time, it either got shortened by an emergency or you both had to run around accomplishing random tasks instead of simply relaxing and enjoying each other's company.

“Hmm…” Nanami sighed, stretching his legs out from the blankets you were both buried under on the couch before tucking them back. “Gojo wanted me to oversee some competition between the first years… but I think I am going to call in sick.”

“Will you get into trouble for that?”

“The only trouble I care about getting into is with you. I’ve saved Gojo’s cocky ass and covered for him enough times this year, so he can either postpone the competition to when the temperature is back to being over the legal age of an adult and snow is not multi feet high, or he can oversee it himself. Besides, the first years deserve a break. They have certainly earned it.” Nanami wrapped his arms around you and sighed deeply. “The only plans I now have for tomorrow is staying right here, lazy and warm.”

“Sounds like a perfect day to me.” You snuggled in closer and closed your eyes, at peace with the promises and dreams that only a snow day can bring.

[breanime]

Absolutely love your blog! Just read the post with Billy Russo and the escape room. Would it be possible to jump on that train with one for Angel and the Mayans?

Thank you so much! This is the last drabble, so I hope you like this!

“The fuck is an escape room?” Creep asked, eyeing the place suspiciously as he walked in.

“It’s a game,” Angel explained for the 100th time, “You go in a room and look for clues and shit, and if you find them, you get out and you win.”

“What if you don’t find the clues?” Bishop asked, hands in his pockets as he stood at the counter.

“Then you stay here forever,” Angel deadpanned.

“What?” Creep’s eyes were huge.

“Oh yeah,” Gilly nodded, “You become part of the game.”

“You ain’t read this shit on the news?” Coco added. “That’s why they have you sign a fucking waiver before you go in and shit.”

“Don’t be an ass, asshole,” you said, pushing Coco’s head as you walked past, “It’s just a game, Creep. It’ll be fun.”

“We’re doing Old School versus New School,” Angel announced, “Me, Coco, Gilly, Y/N, EZ against Bish, Taza, Creep, Riz, and Chucky.”

“Sorry, Chucky,” Coco said.

“I will see you on the other side, Johnny Coco Cruz,” Chucky said back cheerfully.

“Right,” Angel rolled his eyes, “So we get to pick our rooms…” He handed you the catalogue before handing the second one to Bishop. “I’m likin’ the Prison Escape room…”

“Yeah, me too,” you agreed.

“That seems right up our alley,” Taza laughed, “Can both teams do it?”

You all turned to the teenager behind the counter, who shrugged. “Team 1 could go first, give me a few minutes to reset it, and then I can put Team 2 in. How’s that sound?”

You all agreed to that, and Bishop’s team went first. They came back out after an hour and a half, cheering for themselves.

“No way you guys can beat our time,” Riz boasted, “You might as well give up now.”

“The only one who might stand a chance is the Prospect,” Bishop said as he sauntered by, “and maybe Y/N.”

“Fuck you, Bish!” Angel said, laughing.

“Thank you, Bish.” You said, also laughing.

The employee showed you into the room and explained the rules. You’d have the same time frame and same number of clues (four) as Team 1 had gotten. Once the clock started, you all went to work. EZ and Gilly were on clue duty, reading and interpreting the clues while Angel and Coco ran around following their directions. You ended up being the best at the mathematical clues, and you were the only one who could fit in the small spaces. Coco’s sniper eyes came in handy when it came to finding small clues, like a screw or a key, and Angel was really good at interpreting the hints the employee gave.

“Time check!” Angel called, letting you stand on his back so you could reach the clue on the ceiling.

“45 minutes,” the employee said back over the speaker.

“Shit,” you grinned, “We’re making great time!” You snatched the clue—the last clue—off of the ceiling. “Last clue!” You called. “EZ!”

The boys huddled around you as you read the clue, knowing EZ was memorizing it as you spoke. The five of you moved in unison, searching for the final piece to the puzzle that would let you out.

Bishop, Taza, Riz, and Creeper were hanging out in the lobby, cracking jokes and placing bets on how long it would take your team to finish. Chucky was filling little paper cups with water for you guys (“they’ll be thirsty when they get out”, he’d reasoned), and he looked up, smiling wide when he saw you guys come out from the back.

“You won! Congratulations!” He said happily.

“No fucking way!” Riz gasped.

“We beat you by…” Angel turned to EZ with a smirk.

“…40 minutes and some change,” EZ finished for his brother.

“You mother fuckers owe us some drinks,” Coco grinned.

“Alcoholic drinks,” you clarified, patting Chucky on the back.

“Okay, next time, I want EZ and Y/N on my team,” Bishop said, smiling.

“No way, man! My woman, my brother, my team!” Angel argued.

You shook your head, letting Angel wrap his arm around you as you walked over to the counter. The employee gave you all cutout frames and posters to pose with, and Bishop bought a printed picture for everyone—plus an extra one to keep at the clubhouse.

You got the boys to come to an escape room with you once a month, and they loved it—particularly after a stressful time with the MC. But no matter how many times you all went, and no matter what different combos you went in (Old School vs. New School, army guys vs. civilians, big dicks vs. little dicks), the team you were on always won.

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

Thanks for reading! And thank you everyone for participating in these drabbles with me! Keep an eye out for a new list of drabbles sometime this week. 

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[elliyoyo]

Happy Century, Captain (Steve Rogers/Reader)

It’s Steve’s 100th birthday and I couldn’t not write something for it! This is posted so late, but I’ve just been so demotivated lately. I’m sorry for the hiatus and I’m sorry for how short and bad this fit is. However, I put all of my exhausted, 4th of July effort into it, so I hope you enjoy!

Also, this is a kind of sequel to Getting Lost In The Mall from my 12 Days Of Christmas Challenge! Not a necessary read to understand this, but it’s the reader buying an important part of this.

Words: 1462

Warnings: Swearing, surprises, Steve being an oldie, nudity, and some sexual references (but no doing the diddly)

“Steve, wake up, babe… I’ve got a surprise for you,” you whisper, nudging your boyfriend for the third time this beautiful morning. And for the third time this beautiful morning, he groans and buries his face even deeper into his pillow. “You can’t keep avoiding getting up. I know it’s your birthday, but you need to roll out of bed sometime.”

“No. I don’t hav’ta.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, now putting his face in your shoulder. “Jus’ a few more minutes? Please (Y/N)?”

“…I would give you that pleasure, but you’ve been begging for a few more minutes since 10:30 and it’s almost noon.”

His head shoots up and he almost shouts, “It’s almost noon?! What?!” He pushes himself up and into a sitting position, holding his head to try and combat the spinning in his head.

“Woah, hey, cool it! It’s fine, I don’t mind us spending the day in bed, I just had a little present I wanted to give you.” You sit up next to him and kiss his cheek, trying to get him to stay sitting on the bed so you can tell everyone he’s up.

“But we just slept half the day away,” he whines, peering over at the clock sitting on the bedside table.

“Okay, okay, how about this— you get in the shower and get ready while I make us both some breakfast?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll only be like 10 minutes, I promise.” He kisses your cheek, then your temple, then your cheek again, and finally plants a longer kiss on your lips. You can’t help but smile and kiss back, but as soon as you had started to, he pulled away to head into the bathroom. After the door closes and you hear the water turn on, you run out of the room and down to the main room.

Everyone sees you run in and their full attention is immediately drawn to you. You end the silence in the room with, “He’s showering, so he’ll be out, dressed, and down here in a max of 8 minutes now.”

“Nat,” Clint says. “Let’s get the cake from the fridge.” Natasha nods, following him as he jogs to the kitchen, knowing it was a pretty big cake. You catch the remote Tony throws at you to control the windows and lights for when you come in.

“Alright, Vision, can you make sure that when (Y/N) presses that button, the banners come down?”

“Of course, Mr. Stark. Would you also like the confetti to fall?”

“Oh shit, yeah, I didn’t even think about that. Just have everything kick in when they press it,” he says with a shrug. Natasha and Clint come back with the cake, so Tony runs over to help them set it down gently and light the candles on top of it.

You were going to go with 100 small candles, but you didn’t think the fire department would appreciate their sixth call this year being on Independence Day. Or their sixth call happening at all. So, to save them and the whole team the trouble of putting out a burning tower, you settled for five candles. A “1”, two “0”s, and two stars (one red and one blue) to show a little patriotism as well. You put the candles into the cake and gave everyone a thumbs up.

“I’ll clear my throat, then five seconds after, I’ll press the button and we all say happy birthday, okay?”

“Got it!”

“Yep!”

“Wait, like, on five? Or after five? I want to be exa—”

“Loki. It doesn’t matter. Anywhere around five is fine, just not before it.” You roll your eyes at the cheeky grin on the trickster’s face and quickly head back up to your bedroom to get Steve down to the main room.

You knock on the door a few times and call, “Steve? You decent?”

“I’m always more than decent, (Y/N), c’mon.” He laughs a few times, the noise bringing a smile to your face. What brings a bit more than a smile is the fact that he is not decent at all. He’s only got a towel loosely hanging onto his waist, seemingly about to come off at any slight movement.

“...Steven Grant Rogers, I know it’s your 36500th day on Earth, but do you want it to be my last? You’re too hot to be doin’ this shit to me!” You go up to him and wrap your arms around him, pressing a few kisses down his back and shoulder.

“Mm, maybe we should stay in bed,” he suggests, turning around to face you. His towel drops even further down his hips and you have to put an honest effort into staying standing and not looking down.

“Baby, I-I already made breakfast, we can’t.” Your words say one things, but your arms wrapping around his neck say another. You pull him down into a small, short kiss, but lean back to talk some more. “I put so much work into it! The pancakes are your shield and the hashbrowns are little stars! We can’t just let it sit unappreciated.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing a few mindless kisses to your neck, but slowly sighs and turns back around. His towel drops completely and he walks to grab a pair of underwear and some pants from his dresser. He throws his clothes on quickly, getting one more kiss on your lips in before tossing his shirt over his head.

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go grab us some delicious Captain American cuisine,” he jokes, his arm slipping to your waist. You keep one hand tucked in the back pocket of his jeans and the other gripping the remote for the lights.

“Alright, to the kitchen!” You step out of your room, nudging the door closed. You two make your way down the hallway to the main room, where you clear your throat a few times to get your point across.

“You okay, (Y/N)? Do you need some water?”

“No, I’m fine, Steve. But uh… you might get a little taste of cardiac arrest after this,” you mumble, slipping out of his arms and into the darkness. You press the button and throw your arms up while the lights turn on and the banners saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAPTAIN, HAPPY CENTURY, and AN OLDIE BUT A GOODIE (the last one courtesy of Tony).

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The entire team cheers and shouts, some jumping up and down, some blowing noise makers, and Bucky simply walking over to give him a big hug with a smile plastered on his face.

“...You guys… Wait, babe, you were in on this?” At his surprise, you smile sheepishly and clear your throat again, this time out of embarrassment.

“Yeah… I hope the cake makes up for the fact that I didn’t make the pancakes or the hashbrowns.” At the mention of the cake, he looks over at it and smiles at the messy icing, obviously hand done by the team with love and no prior experience. There’s a small cartoonish drawing of him is icing with the words Happy 100th, Steve! Here’s to another 100!. He tears up slightly and has to take a moment to recollect himself.

“This is perfect. So perfect. Thank you so much, you guys.”

Everyone cheers again. Now some people have drinks and some have wrapped presents in their hands. Before anyone can get too reckless, you feel your back pocket, making sure the present was still there. He’s turned the other way so you decide it’s finally time. After months of waiting, you’re finally going to do it. You give everyone “the look” and quiet them down.

“I know it isn’t time for presents, but uh… Steve?” You take the small, shittily wrapped box out of your pocket and give it to him. “Open your first present.”

He gives you a confused look, but starts tearing apart the wrapping paper regardless. He gives the small velvet box a look with eyebrows drawn together and an open mouth, but his expression turns to shocked as you take it and get down on one knee.

“I know you’re supposed to be doing this. You probably dreamed of getting down on one knee forever before the whole being frozen thing, but here I am. Now, on your 100th birthday, you cradle robber, you…” Everyone laughs at that, giving you a comedic moment to pause and let the tears flow freely. “Steven Grant Rogers, will you marry me?”

The room is dead silent for a solid fifteen seconds, but after that you hear a loud, choking sob along with the words you’ve been dying to hear since you laid your eyes on him.

“Yes, I will marry you, (Y/N). Absolutely.”