#Rogers Coded

[callsign-mongoose]

Take Good Care Of My Baby

In Every Time Ch. 1

Song: Take Good Care Of My Baby -Bobby Vee

Pairing: WWII! Tom Kazansky x OC! Annika Jensen

Characters: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Bill "Cougar" Cortell

Warnings: Minors DNI!, World War II themes, brief talk of Nazi's, thoughts of death, a couple swear words. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: ~3.3k

Summary: What if it was Tom's last night state side before shipping off overseas to fight in the war? What if he met the girl of his dreams before he left? Will their paths ever cross again?

A/N: So, this was an idea I had a while ago, and finally wrote it. I tried to keep it shorter but I have plenty of ideas! Please let me know in the comments if I should make this part of a series! Enjoy!

A/N: This story was not proofread by a second pair of eyes so please excuse any errors, if it becomes a series I will go back through and edit this one.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” 

Ana trailed after Tom down the hallway of their apartment. Her PJ pants brushing the floor because they were simply a little big but tied well around her waist. The smell of Chinese food permeated the walls of the kitchen from their night in after Tom’s long day at work. He had canceled dinner plans because there was an incident on base he had to take care of. 

Ever the amazing boyfriend, he picked up takeout on the way home and you two enjoyed it while talking idly on the couch for a couple hours. “If I say yes will it stop your essay of questions?” He groaned throwing open the door to their room, pealing off his muscle tank he had worn home, it was the only thing he had in his locker that day. His clothes somehow made it into the hamper before he climbed into bed, refusing to let the room be messy, it was Tom after all. 

“I’m not answering that question until you answer mine.” 

“Fine, yes Annie, I’d still love you if you were a worm. You happy now?” 

Ana couldn’t help but grin in triumph as she crawled into bed next to her boyfriend. “Yes I’m ecstatic, thank you.” Placing her head on his chest she wiggled around to get comfortable, a calm silence washing over the couple. 

The only thing Tom could hear was the quiet sound of music coming from their neighbors apartment and the sound of two breaths becoming one. He loved the silence, it was such a complete 180 from his every day life, work was always loud, at home, with ana, he got to just enjoy quiet. 

“Tom?” 

“Yes dear?” 

“Do you think… that if we didn’t meet how we did… if we didn’t meet in this time, we would have ever found each other?” Ana half expected to hear a groan because of her silly questions, but was surprised to be greeted with silence, followed by Tom moving under her, sitting up on one elbow. 

“I’m not sure… you mean like, if we would have met in a different time?”

 “Yeah, like 1944… do you think we would have gotten together?” 

After another long moment of silence Tom pursed his lips, something Anna could barely see through the dark. “I’d like to think so, I think that no matter the year, place, or circumstances I would always fall for those beautiful green eyes.” He gently placed his hand under her chin lifting her lips to kiss her, “Now, shall we get some sleep? Mav got on my last nerve today and I would like to drift off to sleep with my beautiful girlfriend before I spend any more brainpower on his idiocy.” 

Laying back into the pillow with Ana on his chest there wasn’t much time before Tom was out cold. Annika on the other hand, laid in complete darkness, staring at the shapes of picture frames in the dark wondering… What If.

“I swear I’ve never wanted anything more in my life Erik. Give me another chance.” Ana stared dead on, serious as a heart attack. She’d never get another chance like this, never be this close again. 

“Absolutely not! Your gonna spend our budget to get home if you keep trying. I’m not convincing the milk man to give us a ride again, that was fucking embarrassing Annika.” A rather tall man stood next to her, they looked almost identical aside from his stronger bone structure and lack of freckles. 

Both had rather piercing eyes and unruly brunette almost jet black hair, Ana at least was able to pull it back into an updo as her hair was long, Erik was only able to work with what he had, a brush and water. The lack of gel paired with his goofy grin and inability to choose a good outfit for the life of him, he looked like a news boy on the side of the road hawking headlines, maybe the newsboy hat would do his hair some good.

 In reality though Erik wasn’t the one hawking the headlines, he was writing them. Just starting to at least. Stuck reviewing vaudeville shows for just enough money to keep him and Ana fed and get his name in the Byline. 

“Come on Erik! Once more, that’s all and I’ll never ask for anything ever again.” She finally broke the intense thousand yard stare to look at her brother. 

“Ana what even is that thing? Is it worth it? Is it worth having to walk all the way home?” Was it? Probably not, but Ana was determined to prove to her brother that she could do it. She nodded, taking the coin from his hand holding it out for the man behind the table. 

“I was starting to think you weren’t gonna make a choice.” The man murmured handing her 3 rings. “Have at it little lady.” 

Ana glanced from her brother to the nondescript animal plush hanging on the tent. “Your coming home with me…” She murmured reassuring herself before tossing the first ring, it bounced off the top of the coke bottles before ending up wedged between two of them. “Damn”

 Throwing the second one significantly harder out of frustration, the ring hit a bottle then the back wall and flew back towards them, smacking Erik in the shoulder before falling to the floor. 

“Ouch!” he complained quietly, watching as the barker got distracted flirting with some blonde bimbo, bending over Erik snatched the ring from the ground passing it back to Ana. “Take another shot, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Her brother winked, a lopsided half playful grin was on his face, it met his eyes, that’s what told Ana it was genuine. She had learned to read her brother like a book after years of watching him lie, and laugh, and play around. 

Tossing the ring again it bounced passed the playing bottles and instead miraculously landed on the barkers actual bottle of coke. Perhaps it was because it was an actual size to fit in the ring. “I did it!” Annika squealed jumping up and down in excitement, the barker turned around and looked at the two. 

“That doesn’t count, its filled with coke and it’s mine, it isn’t an in play bottle.” Looking for any reason to contest the man’s rule Ana slouched quietly thinking. 

“It’s still a bottle aint it? Just give her the damn… whatever the hell that thing is and we will get out of your way.” Erik reasoned standing up straight, Erik wasn’t tall by any means, only resting at about 5’ 11. He was broad though, their uncle owned a moving business and Erik was always in there helping move inventory. In school, he was apart of the rugby team which helped build muscle, it was his favorite thing to do at school besides anything to do with writing.

 “Fine, I don’t wanna see you two again though.” He murmured pulling what was now a badly designed teddy bear of the hook handing it to Ana who immediately clutched it to her body and gave him a stern nod turning away taking Erik’s arm to leave before she broke out into laughs. 

“I can’t believe that worked.” 

“It worked but not without burning the bridge of playing that game again… Come on Ana, I’m starving I want to get food.”

“Are you kidding me Tommy? You can’t seriously tell me that you haven’t used the uniform to get at least one girl. I haven’t been able to keep the girls off me.” Bill walked through the crowd his hand firmly placed on Tom’s shoulder.

 “Well not all of us joined up with the intension of getting laid as many times as possible before shipping off Coug.” The blonde adjusted the uniformed hat as it sat on top of his head. People all had their reasons for joining up, some it was for the glory, some it was to fight the Nazi’s, for Tom, it was none of the above. He just wanted to be apart of something bigger, he wanted to serve for a purpose, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Getting recognition and women had nothing to do with it. 

“I’m simply indulging myself before I go fight with a good chance of death… Fine fine, so doing a pickup game with me tonight is off the table?” 

“Bill, it was never even on the menu.” Tom murmured as they made their way through the crowded pier, they were getting stares, that much Tom knew for sure. “We came here with the intension of getting to go to Coney island one last time before we left, I’m not wasting it on trying to get someone to hookup with you. You’re a lost case Billy.” 

It didn’t take more than 5 minuets for two girls to walk over. “Are you two boys in the army?” They were giggling as if flirting was something one dared the other to do. 

“Close, Navy, You almost had it little lady, name is Sargent Bill Cortell, it is such an honor to serve and protect when I know you pretty ladies back here are who I’m protecting.” He reached out taking one girls hand in each of his kissing their knuckles. Cougar, who had affectionately been named that by their platoon, was quite the flirt. He had a record of hitting on anything wearing a skirt, and he had the skills to as well. It was rare Bill didn’t have a girl on his arm outside of work.

 Tom rolled his eyes at Bills antics. Both the girls squealed as he spoke, “I can’t imagine how brave you must be.” 

“Only for you ma’am. How about you two pretty ladies and I go get some photos taken in the photo booth over there to commemorate tonight and give me something to admire while I’m over seas.” The girls swooned as Bill led them both off to the photo booth leaving Tom alone standing by as his best friend got some action.

 Not that tom had any interest in getting any “Action” before he left, they would have plenty of action over seas to keep him busy and not thinking about some random girl from home. 

“I thought I told you not to stick around! Get out of here!” A rather lanky barker was leaving his booth shaking a stick at a young woman who was quickly hurrying away. Ana had started to pick up her pace beyond just a brisk walk, starting to jog as the barker chased after her. 

Erik's gonna be so pissed at me.

Taking a turn between two tents Ana thought she was safe, hiding from view of many prying eyes. “I thought I had told you to scram from my game. And where’s that big spender of a-“ 

“Darling, I turn around for 20 seconds and your gone! You can’t go running off like that. I thought we were going to get some popcorn?” Tom leisurely strolled down the small alley the tents had formed, one hand in his uniform pocket, getting in-between the barker and Ana. “Is there a problem?” He asked the man once making sure that he was between the two bodies glancing back and forth between them. 

“Your with her? But I could have sworn she was with a brunette-“ 

“Well I would certinaly hope not, especially not on my last night state side.” Tom shifted his gaze to Ana and shot her a Roll with it look.

“Of course not, Why would I want to spend my night with anyone else.” She moved up linking an arm in Tom’s, “Now if you’ll Excuse me sir… we have a night to enjoy.” Tugging Tom out of the tight spot there was nothing but a shocked look on the barkers face, he looked dumbfounded. 

Once out of ear shot she kept her voice low but leaned up to talk to the man as they walked. “I thought I was done for… thanks.” 

“No problem, he seemed like a jerk.” 

For the first time Ana lifted her gaze to properly take a look at the man who had come to her rescue even if it was an unorthodox rescue. He looked like every poster for the military, perfectly pressed uniform and a charismatic smile, even if the smile looked strained. “My name is Sargent Tom Kazansky, 22nd Naval Regimend, at your service.” Tom dragged a smile onto his face trying to mimic Cougars flirting, wanting to at least be able to tell Coug that he tried. 

Perhaps it was his uniform, or his effortless good looks or a strained smile, but Ana was staring much more than she had originally intended. “You got a problem soldier? Loosen up, you look like you’ve been through somethin’ awful.”

Toms once strained smile turned rather goofy as he heard her accent, somewhere between a Brooklyn slang and a nondescript European dialect, it was certainly rather interesting. “Your right your right, formalities certainly aren’t needed considering that we are already dating.” He teased wiggling his eyebrows glancing down at where her arms were hooked on his elbow.

Ana tilted her head back and laughed keeping her hands on his arm, “Well if we are dating I think we need to go get one of those couples milkshakes over by the rides, those looked real good.” 

Tom seemed to agree to the idea turning them towards the rides wanting to both take her farther away from the angry barker and to get the milkshake. “So, is it fair of me to ask my girlfriends name?”

“Oh, you mean you can’t tell? Can’t see it in my eyes?” Leaning up towards top she fluttered her eyelashes gently “I’m kidding, my name is Annika, it’s a pleasure to date you Sarg.” She gave a little salute with her free hand as they walked down the crowded wooden walkway. 

Annika, a pretty name, certainly didn’t fit her. Well it did! Just not… it didn’t fit the side he was seeing of her. She was wreckless and rolled with the punches, this girl looked like hell on wheels but hidden in a rather messy blanket of personality and beauty. “The pleasure is all mine Annika.”

“Was what you said true? Is tonight your last night stateside?”

“Oh- uh, well yeah it is. My best friend Bill and I were planning on spending tonight enjoying our last night of freedom but hes found himself rather occupied with some ladies and left me to rot.” His laugh wasn’t good at hiding the way he was feeling, clear he wished that Cougar had prioritized their fun together, but he couldn’t control Cougars dick. “It’s not too bad though, I was able to help you out and now were at least enjoying ourselves together right?” 

As they made their way to the ordering window of the booth Tom looked to Ana for a moment nodding as if telling her to make the choice of their order. “Oh uh, your good with anything?” She whispered leaning into comment, only to be responded to with a nod, “Can I just get a strawberry shake with two straws please?” 

She fumbled for her coin purse to pay but Tom had beat her to it. “Please, let me, it’s not like this money’s gonna do me any good overseas.” His grin was enough to make her heart race and she hadn’t known him for more than 10 minuets. The milkshake was brought to forward to the window and Tom grabbed it leading Ana towards one of the empty benches which were few and far between on the busy boardwalk. 

“So, what about you, I can assume you spend your free time aggravating carnival barkers to the point of chasing you?” He took a sip of the shake and let it cool down his throat when he swallowed, a little bit of the pink resting on his lip before he swiped it away with his tongue. 

“No no, as much as I wish I could say it was my full time job I can’t. I’m a secretary for the telegraph company, I’m only part time though, but I help my brother, he’s a writer for the New York Sun, just has terrible grammar.” She smiled imaging the rough drafts laying on Erik’s desk covered in red pen marks that she had left. 

Stealing the cup from Tom’s hand Ana took a long sip before handing it back, stealing the cherry off the top. “Well your brother is lucky to have an in house editor. I wish I could say that my writing was good but despite my fathers constant efforts to improve my writing skills my spelling is horrid and my hand writing is illegible.” It was half a joke, his father was always trying to force him to write so it would get better but he never had anyone he cared to write to or about. 

“Annika Jenson!” 

Anas back immediately straightened up and she became ridged closing her eyes “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” She whispered before shooting Tom an apologetic look. “My brother.”

Standing up she tuned around, plaid skirt flaring out slightly, a tight smile pressed onto her face. “Erik, hey, sorry I kinda ran off, I wasn’t really interested in getting hotdogs and you were taking so long in the bathroom. I wandered off and noticed my bear had a tare already so I went back to get him replaced and the ass actually chased me. Can you believe that? He had the gall to try to chase me down for asking for a different prize! Anyway Tommy here swooped in and helped me out of a tight spot.” 

Erik looked like he was having none of it, absolutely fuming, he had been searching for his sister for going on 20 minuets and she was off hiding with some random guy? “Tommy huh?” He pivoted to stand infront of Tom, who stood up to greet him came to about 6 foot standing up straight, Erik was broader, more stalky, while Tom was more lean, muscular, fit. He had been through training already and was prepared for war even if he was going into the air infantry. 

“You must be the writer… it’s nice to meet you.” Tom held out his hand to shake but Erik seemed like he was still rather mad. “Sorry if I don’t shake hands with the guy who kidnapped my sister.” 

“ERIK.” Ana slapped Erik’s shoulder violently “I’m sorry Tom I don’t know where his manners went, mama raised us right I promise.” She shot a stink eye at Erik before pulling the note book from his pocket that she knew he always had with him. Writing something down in the notebook she ripped out the page folding it a few times before shoving the notebook back to Erik who shook his head turning to walk away expecting Ana to follow. 

“We should really go though… it’s quite late and we live on the other side of town so we should really be leaving but, I hope you can find your friend, and that, you find what your looking for overseas.” Moving forward she stood up onto her tiptoes and placed a hand on his chest slipping the note into his breast pocket of his uniform before kissing his cheek. “Good luck out there Tom.”

She turned to follow her brother, and Tom wasted no time pulling the note from his pocket trying not to damage it. His cheeks flushed pink as the notes words rang in his head. Well he finally had something to look forward to. 

‘I hope that when you get to where your goin’ you don’t hesitate to practice your writing skills with me. My address, send a letter when you get to your station.’

Apartment number 214

1379 7th Ave

Brooklyn, Newyork

[kendallspussy]

they’re everything to me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[rohirriiim]

STEGGY APPRECIATION WEEK day 5: inspired by ↬ "For mine is the choice of Lúthien, and as she so have I chosen, both the sweet and the bitter." - JRR Tolkien

[hurtspideyparker]

Steve: From now on we'll be using code names. You can address me as Eagle 1

Steve: Bucky, code name "been there done that"

Steve: Tony is "currently doing that"

Steve: Sam is "it happened once in a dream"

Steve: Natasha, code name "if I had to pick a chick"

Steve: Clint is... Eagle 2

Clint: Oh thank God

[wilsonwandmagician]

INSANE.

[mashbrainrot]

extremely loveable characters from 70s TV shows who are freakishly good at their jobs, have a strong sense of justice, enjoy being annoying, and fucking hate guns: lieutenant columbo 🤝 hawkeye pierce

[blackynsupremacy]

“HI, MS. PARKER!”

pairing: female!reader x female!bff x oldermale!character

inspo: friday (1995)

18+ vibes, so minors dni! contains: age gap, flirting, teasing, mention of a threesome, arousal, implied smut, swearing.

the neighbor: clark kent, steve rogers, thor odinson, logan howlett, derek morgan, dean winchester, erik killmonger, john winchester, bucky barnes or any character the reader has in mind!

taglist: @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn @afrowrites @rosiestalez @zombiehe4rt @sabrinasopposite @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu

the sun adores the illuminated skin of you and your best friend. it’s friday, ya’ll ain’t got work nor classes, so you decided it was a beautiful day to take a bike ride through the neighborhood. it’s a blazing temperature of eighty-seven, so of course you’re both scantily clad in black halters and denim cut offs with slides before you hit the block. as you peddle around the corner, you spot him. it was one of your neighbors that had a decade on your twenty-five year old selves, but who gave a damn when he’s this—fine and recently divorced. your eyes gawk at how each of his muscles flexes in that tight-ass white tank top while performing the most mundane tasks such as mowing the lawn or fixing his car. the stains of perspiration leave a glistening mess on areas of his skin such as his arms, chest, and neck. you and your friend give each other a smirk, a glint of mischief within your eyes. you simultaneously wave at the man and greet him in the “friendliest” tone as you have done in prior occasions.

“heeeey!” you both squeal and let a few giggles escape as if you were back in your high school days.

he stops what he’s doing and lifts his head up at the harmony of your voices. he wipes the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand as an amicable grin curves on his lips. he raises a bulging arm in the air, a baritone voice resonating to reciprocate the greeting.

“hey, ladies! how ya doin’?”

“we’re good!”

you turn your heads to secretly converse with each other as the raunchiest of thoughts run circles through your minds. your friend mutters under her breath on your behalves.

“we’d be better if you’d let us fuck.”

he peered at you both with a tantalizing gaze, an arched brow and a piqued smirk that thankfully, both of you couldn’t see. this was a weekly routine of this teasing and he played right along with ya’ll. he hadn’t really got any play since the divorce finalized because he was just trying to focus on himself, but how could he focus with these two pyt’s basically eye fucking him each time they pass by as their bodies bounced on their bikes? the aching sensation of his dick hardens as he couldn’t deny the fact that he was just as intrigued as you and your friend. he often battled with himself as to which one he would take first, but then again—why not both at the same time?

“i’m sorry, what’d you say, honey?” he feignedly inquired.

to say ya’ll were gagged was an understatement because there’s no way that man heard what your friend said. albeit it was true that both of you held a strong attraction to the older male, ya’ll weren’t gonna let him know that too quick.

you stammered to save your asses.

“uh—nothing! have a good one, sir!”

the heat of embarrassment rushed on your faces as you waved again and peddled off a few more blocks before retiring back to your home. after that encounter, you both needed a cold shower to cool off the area that needed it the most.

later that evening as you both were binging your favorite reality show, your phones pinged at the same time. you both picked them up to see you got a new message from an unknown number and they put you in a group chat: you, your friend, and the unknown person.

the message read:

you know i’ve heard you loud and clear earlier.

baffled, you read the message and you took it upon yourself to respond:

i’m sorry. who’s this and how’d you get our numbers?

don’t act so coy. you girls like to tease me every week on those bikes.

•••

it’s driving me fucking crazy.

it dawns on you both that this unknown person was…your neighbor.

“oh…” you started.

“…shit.” your friend finished your thought and she responds in the chat.

we didn’t mean to tease! we just wanted to say hi real quick because you looked so busy.

“and so damn fine.” you mutter, eyes not pulling from the screen awaiting the next response.

•••

let’s cut to the chase. it’s obvious you want to—have your way with me. i feel the same way, so if you stunning young ladies wanna know how a real man does it, swing by my place in the next 10 minutes. ;)

•••

you said you want to fuck, so let’s fuck.

you both stare at your phones then at each other not knowing that as you were reading each word your thighs instinctively clenched together to hold in the arousal that was erupting between your legs. as if you were speaking telepathically, you both deserved to relieve some tension with one of the finest men on your street. you kept your end of the bargain because within ten minutes you’re both standing in anticipation at his front door. you were getting a taste of your own medicine as his sculpted figure leaned against the frame. one of his forearms supporting his body while his other hand “tries” to grasp onto the cotton towel that was lowering at his navel. he skips the formalities by using his large, two fingers to beckon you both into the house and you both simply follow his command.

a ménage a toi—who knew that this was a way to spend a friday evening?

[dandelionjack]

the Carrionites from the shakespeare code are really a fascinating concept to examine in light of The Post Salt-Line Era (disclaimer: i don’t like the episode as a whole for obvious reasons). powerful witches from the before-times, applying word-magic as a science. words that rhyme or sentences constructed with a specific intent have enough power to stop one of a timelord’s hearts and potentially open a space-time portal. something to keep in mind vis a vis the repeated wordsmithing motif we’ve got going on in s14: spoor “that’s a nice word”; smelted “i’ve never used that before”; ruby was was foundled “what a funny word, foundled”; semperdistans.

if ruby really is a changeling… much as to the carrionites (who were evidently modelled after historical witchcraft folklore), words hold tremendous power to the fae. that’s why there’s all this mythology of faeries “stealing names”: to them, there is no difference between signifier and signified, between a word and the real-life object that word represents, so a name is the person’s actual identity, their personhood itself.

therefore, if ruby really is a faerie child, it makes total sense for her to accidentally be affecting reality through verbal expression in the way she’s been doing throughout the whole series. in space babies, she mentions star trek and suddenly the crew appear in star trek esque uniforms. in the devil’s chord, she mentions strictly come dancing and suddenly they’re dancing opposite two strictly judges. obviously, her word-magic comes to a head in 73 yards: she reads out “i miss you” on the clifftop and the doctor disappears. she reads out “rest in peace, mad jack” and in 20 years gwylliam’s up there on the screen calling himself mad jack (we can presume the original note wasn’t about gwylliam, but an actual villager called jack). ruby speaking messages out loud manifests them into reality. she’s got faerie blood.

[kayvsdoodles]

stevie for warmup

[stucky-fic-prompt]

Okay okay, this NEEDS to be written by someone

Nat/Steve/Bucky

Please 🥹

[rafasbiscuits]

✨Roger Federer✨ That's it. That's the caption.

[rolandkaros]

ROGER FEDERER [SUI] & RAFAEL NADAL [ESP] || WIMBLEDON CHAMPIONSHIPS FINAL || 07 06 2006, 07 08 2007, 07 06 2008

[@rgrfederer]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Mr. Rogers leaves without saying a word. His face is pale as his hand opens and closes in a fist at his side and he strides past your desk. You watch after him, thinking for a moment that you should follow. No, he has to sort this out on his own. You’ve already done too much. 

You go through his calendar and cancel his only other meeting. You don’t think that’s going to happen.  

It’s strange sitting there alone. Mr. Rogers comes and goes often but not know when he’ll be back puts you on edge. An hour passes then another. You spend your lunch outside in the sunshine then come back in to the stale office air. 

Your phone rings and you answer. You’re surprised when Rogers’ voice comes from the speaker. You expected it to be Dizzie for some reason. She’s been awfully quiet today. 

“She changed the locks,” he croaks. 

There’s static on the line and thrum that’s so loud it nearly drowns him out. 

“Sir?” You sit up straight. 

“Peggy. She locked me out. I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I’ve just been sitting here in my car...” his voice is a dull murmur. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. Is that—can she do that? Can you call your lawyer? The police?” 

“Police told me to call the lawyer. Lawyer says it’s gonna take a while so... yeah.” 

“I’m so so sorry,” you touch your cheek. “I can’t even imagine... that’s horrible.” 

“Yeah, I mean, who would leave you, Rosie? No, that’d be crazy.” He sniffles, “guess I deserve this. I worked so much, all so I could give her the life she wanted but it turns out I worked just enough to drive her away.” 

“Sir,” you utter. 

“Guess I could go to a hotel. I mean, might as well spend the money before I have alimony to pay,” he laughs crisply. “Bucky’s not picking up. I thought maybe I could stay there but... just because my life is falling apart doesn’t mean he needs to pick up the pieces.” 

He sounds so broken it makes your heart rend. Something about his cadence also worries you. He doesn’t sound healthy. 

“Sir, where are you?”  

You realise then what that noise is. Water. 

“By the bridge. The water looks cold.” 

You swallow and stand up. “I’ll come to you, alright?” 

“Rosie? Why...” 

“Just, it’s okay, sir, I’ll be there. Is that Collingswood Bridge? I love the flowers there.” 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he answers. 

“Alright, I’m on my way okay, so let’s stay on the phone.” 

“Rosie, why do you sound so upset?” 

“I’m not upset. I just think you need a friend so I’m coming. Did you want me to message Mr. Barnes as well.” 

“I told you, he’s too busy for me,” he mopes. 

“But just in case--” 

“Oh, woah!” He exclaims. 

“Sir, what--” 

“Nothing, nothing, I just... this bridge is so high up.” 

You tamp down your worry and take a breath, “sir, I canceled your meetings. Oh, did I tell you, they’re opening a new donut place downstairs too! I know your favourite is the one with the sprinkles.” 

“You remember,” he says softly.  

“Of course, sir,” you assure him. 

You keep chattering about nothing in particular as you swipe up your bag and race out of the office. You try not let him hear you panting as you rush down to catch a cab. You mute the phone to tell the driver to head to the bridge then get back on the line. 

The conversation rolls on as you don’t let Rogers stop talking. You get out with a hasty thanks and tip to the driver. You rush down the bridge without looking ahead and only after you’re halfway down do you see your boss sitting on the railing. Holy moly. 

You slow and walk up to him slowly, letting out quiet mhm’s and uh huhs and you grab onto his forearm. He flinches and you tug on him. You won’t be able to stop him from going over if he slips but you didn’t want to just call out to him and give him a warning. 

“Rose!” He looks at you and lowers his phone. “How’d you get here?” 

“Mr. Rogers, please, will you get off the railing?” You ask softly. 

He stares at you then looks out at the water. He laughs and turns to hang his legs over the inside of the bridge. “Sure, Rosie. Were you worried?” 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, sir,” you cling to him until he’s on his feet. He glances down at you grip and you finally let go. 

“I’m good. I’m great, now that you’re here. Did you find me a room yet?” He asks. 

You wince. You’ve been on the phone this whole time. When does he think you did that? 

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“Of course, of course,” his eyes are red from tears, his cheeks pallid and streaked. 

“Um, I’m sorry, everything’s booked up,” you say, “how about you come to my place? You can stay on my couch. Just for tonight.” 

“Really?” His brow wrinkles, “you’d do that for me?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You don’t think leaving him alone right now would be smart. Nor could you forgive yourself if anything happened. “It’s fine. My place is just a bit small.” 

“Mm, I don’t mind,” he smiles and pushes his shoulders up in a shiver as a breeze blows across the water. “It’s cold out here.” 

“It is, sir,” you agree. “Where did you park?” 

[roger-d0dger]

I will break you, do you understand?

[thebeautifulbook]

CIPHER MANUSCRIPT [aka VOYNICH MANUSCRIPT] by Roger Bacon[?] (Central Europe, c.1401-1599) 18th -19th century binding.

‘Scientific or magical text in an unidentified language, in cipher, apparently based on Roman minuscule characters; the text is believed by some scholars to be the work of Roger Bacon since the themes as the illustrations seem to represent topics know to have interested Bacon…. A history of the numerous attempts to decipher the manuscript can be found in a volume edited by R.S Brumbaugh THE MOST MYSTERIOUS MANUSCRIPT: The Voynich “Roger Bacon” Cipher Manuscript (Carbondale, IL, 1978). Although several scholars have claimed decipherments of the manuscript, for the most part the text remains an unsolved puzzle.’ — from an abstract by the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale

source [digitized]