#Tricoloured bat

[loveisinthebat]

Just a Little Guy

[transgender-chiroptera]

Tricoloured bat, via

[marfsnok]

Random draft from around end 2022, maybe january 2023 even? Not checked/ proof read for spelling mistakes.

He sat on his knees, one hand holding a herbal while the other held a plant of some sorts. A straw basket to his side. It is night, occasionally the sound of an owl could be heard alongside other things. It's  dark, but despite the lack of light within the forest, he could see as good as he would in broad daylight. He nods nods, confirming that the plant in his hands is indeed the same one from the book, he needed this one. He puts the plant inside the basket, toghether with the other ones he foraged. He stands up, picking up the basket and pulling the straps over his shoulders, wearing it like a backpack. The basket is around the size of the 5'5 males torso and it was basically filled to near the top with different kinds of plants.

As he were about to leave to forrage for his next plant, the leaves behind him started to rustle, making him turn his head to where the sound came from.

"T-the wind?" He mumbled, suspicious of the sudden noise. His hands sneak towards the small shovel on his hip, ready to use it as a weapon if he needed to. Seconds pass with nothing happening, he felt relieved. Maybe it really was the wind? No, small animal even? He did hear owls earlier didn't he? He puts hid gaurd down, putting the shovel back on his hip.

Something, no, someone popped their head through the leaves which in return made the boy scream loudly. His back now against a tree, gripping it tightly as he just stared at the person that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The person made brief eye contact with him, her violet eye investigating him thoroughly. Looking him up and down with a raised brow. He just stares back at her, unblinking.

She glides down, her bat-like wings that were attached near the lower end of her back spreading far, landing safely on her feet. She walks up to him. Her sickenly pale skin showing well in the dark, contrasting the darker surroundings alongsides her pink, purple and yellow tricoloured hair. He didn't know what to do, staying still out of fear and mainly confusion. She didn't seem to bear any malicious intent, just interested in him and he could understand why.

"C-can I help you?" He asks in a low and soft voice, the wind going by as he asked it. To the other, she heard nothing, as she wasn't able to hear him due to the wind as well as him speaking in a to low of a tone that even if you were to stand right next to him, you'd hear nothing but a grumble. A few moments pass, with the girl finally standing in front of him now. She seemed to be around his age, or maybe  a bit older. He himself is in his later teen years, physically at least. He couldn't quite tell if the stranger is the same.

"Huh, you're not goint to bite me, are you?" She asks with with a grin, her sharp teeth showing. The question felt both understandable as well as an ironic to him. Since the other is so obviously a vampire. He shakes his head, "No, I-I'm not." He could feel himself calming down, his fear replaced with caution towards the girl. He still felt scared, the feeling still lingering as he wasn't exactly sure if she really did mean no harm, though he could guess that she simply is just interested in him. Or more, in what he is. She pats him down, hands gliding over the skin on hid arm and staying there. Pressing down with her thumb and making circles. He felt cold to the touch, his skin is not a shade of orange nor red, but blue. A greyish blue. One of eye seemed to be a orange jewel and the skin on one side of his mouth seemed torn or ripped.

A zombie, she knew that from first glance and it's why she is so interested in him.

[abhijitbansod]

Saaaaachin..... Sachin........ The entire stadium, homes, and minds would chant when Sachin Tendulkar walked the field. 1989 his debut against Pakistan, seemed so unreal to me that a 16-year-old (about my age) could represent India and face a fierce Pakistani pace attack. It was nothing less than a divine act. This little Master, Master Blaster or God of Cricket ruled our hearts and minds from 1989-2013. There was a time when we would watch only for him, and if he got out, our interest and match would be lost. In mid-Dec 2013, I got a call from Network18 inviting me to design an installation to celebrate his career. It was a huge and exciting opportunity. Just imagine the number of butterflies in my stomach. Network 18 with Bandra West Residence Association had identified a location on the Carter road promenade for the local boy. Sachin's Kashmir willow on a grand scale to capture its true weight, which connected millions of hearts across India with each shot. The core idea was to make the installation timeless and iconic, just like the little master. We decided to sculpt his 'magic wand' and named it Bat of Honour. The bat is set at an angle to provide a fun illusion that the fan is holding Sachin's Bat. We had portrayed the most significant driving force behind Sachin's successful cricket career, India. Hence, a slice through the bat reveals the core in blue, the team he played for 24 years. The top surface held his signature, and the handle, the tricolour. The end of the handle also had Sachin's face engraved, so when one looks into the mirror-finished side, he sees Sachin in himself. The 'Bat of honour' weighed about 2 tons and stood tall, reaching 22 feet, making it the giant bat ever made in stainless steel. Blending with the environment, the setting sun will appear like a ball with this giant bat. The floor beneath the Bat of Honour has the etched pattern of the wagon wheel from his record of 200 runs against South Africa. Honestly, it was not a project; it was a purpose. I See Desi. I See Design. #sachintendulkar #batofhonour #cricketlover #cricket #design #indiandesigner #installation #publicspace #bcci #icc #iseedesi #iseedesign https://www.instagram.com/p/Ckpbv7uSBxZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[queensparklekitten]

time princess is fucking wild 

-i wingman for my cats in order to build a cat army 

-i’m in a group called the court of blood 

-i regularly get scammed by a hamster

-i’ve sold more than half my stuff to a pair of scissors shaped like a bat with a paper vampire cape 

-i’m semi-frequently spinning a roulette wheel and the grand prize is circus makeup

-i’ve possessed marie antoinette several times before

-i broke into a royal palace and stole an important artifact from a prince who had a crush on me once

-right now i’m a trainee kpop idol who can see ghosts and today i became friends with a ghost who died in an accident that was the result of discovering her forbidden-love boyfriend cheated on her and we teamed up to fuck him up so hard via using my ability to still move objects to let him know she’s haunting him that it destroyed his debut

-two days ago i was a princess who was dealing with two twin princes, one a powerful evil sorcerer who spent his whole childhood in a tower and tricked me into becoming engaged to him, and the other a childhood friend of mine who’s been cursed by his own brother to turn into a swan if i ever touch him

-also i was a figure skater once and was extremely gay for a speed skater

-i often give people dozens upon dozens of the exact same present. once i gave a ghost what must have been over a hundred of the same puzzle toy. this is mandatory to proceed in these plotlines

-it’s possible to have glowing blue hair

-my cats frequently ask me for things such as fabric, wood, spices, and other random stuff 

-cats also have a committee that holds meetings every week and sends me rewards based on how good a companion they perceive me as (and they should really be giving me more considering how often i’ve helped them get laid)

-sometimes i get to actually play the fake mobile games you see in scam ads for what they won’t tell you is actually just a pay-to-win match-3

-in order to pass a stage i recently wore a white feathered ballgown (with a mostly-mesh skirt so my tights and shoes were very visible) alongside a huge black and gold devil horns headpiece, pink sandals, blue tights with large yellow diamond shapes on them, and tricolour hair that starts to look like tentacles at the very bottom because it’s from a jellyfish themed set

[lustresky]

make me feel [bi!bucky barnes x bi!f!reader]

summary: Let’s just say that you and Bucky aren’t as bright as you both think you are. (Or, a story in which you both find out that the other isn’t actually completely over the fence— If you know what I mean.)

wc: 2800ish.

themes: reader and bucky are both bi disasters, misunderstandings, pining, a lil’ bit of angst?, crack? (idek at this point lmao), happy endings, not so subtle the witcher references, everyone else in the team getting tired of reader n bucky’s dumbasses.

a/n: title is a song by janelle monáe! also this is inspired by seb saying ‘bi rights!’ and well... also by me being a dumbass bi. this felt like the longest x reader i’ve ever written when in reality it’s the shortest one i’ve ever written lol. :’) oh well!

if you have any questions about this fic, feel free to send me an ask! c:

“Isn’t she just—“ You sigh dreamily, one of your arms coming up to rest at the table; your head then promptly laying on it. “God, I’m like— so gay.”

Bucky just laughs, ignoring the twinge of emotion in his chest. He sips his coffee, eyeing you through the corner of his eye.

Your eyes had been stuck on the Russian spy for the past ten minutes, now. Natasha, however, hadn’t noticed it all; which Bucky finds both funny and depressing.

Funny, because seeing the usually alert assassin being oblivious to your feelings is amusing; and depressing, because he knows that he’ll never be the object of your affections.

The reason isn’t even because of his past— you had made it clear to him numerous times before that you don’t think any less of him because of his history. It isn’t even about his arm— you had called it “Cool.” and “Awesome!” a handful of times before.

No; the reason that he’ll never be able to be with you is because you swing your bat for your own team.

Bucky just lets out a quiet sigh, blowing his coffee to cool it down some more.

When Natasha turns her head to give you both a smile, he doesn’t contain the small chuckle coming out of his throat when you suddenly flinch in your seat.

He wants more, he always had, but he knows better than to hope for things that he can never have.

I’ll just have to settle for this.

Bucky takes another sip.

“Damn.”

You look up from the TV; your view being greeted by Bucky as he sits next to you on the sofa, metal arm gleaming from the dim light of the screen.

The said television currently displays a very delightful and deliciously naked scene of Geralt of Rivia; the camera panning up from his thunderous thighs to his thick upper body— the only thing keeping the whole moment ‘Netflix-Show-Friendly’ is the white cloth haphazardly thrown across his waist, covering his dignity.

You snort as Bucky continues to hungrily stare at the fictional character, unashamed. His eyes are wide, pupils blown and you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Looks like someone’s a lil’ gay too, huh?” You laugh, trying to swallow down the feeling of heartache.

Bucky just chuckles back, eyes still focused on the screen. “You can say that…”

You tear your gaze off of the super soldier, doing your best to keep your disappointment at bay.

It isn’t his fault; you of all people know that you can’t exactly control what and who you’re attracted and not attracted to.

In fact, it’s your fault for falling for someone who’ll never like you that way.

Bucky will never look at you like that— you know that— but there are times, times like this…

Times where his arm is wrapped around your shoulders, times where your head is tucked under his chin, times where your back is pressed against his chest…

That you fool yourself into the idea of maybe you two can have something more.

Even if you know better.

Bucky hears the clacking of heels behind him, followed by the familiar whistling of Sam when he sees something he likes.

“Goddamn, Y/N!” He hoots, promptly making Bucky turn around from his area on the stove upon hearing your name.

His breath hitches up in his throat as he sees you: a form fitting and long sleeved black dress hugging every part of your body, ending quite high above your knees and showing off a garter on your left leg. Your hair is tousled, framing your face. The whole outfit is paired with black heels, and Bucky knows for sure that anyone else who’ll see you in it will do a double take.

You laugh at Sam. “Sorry, honey, but you know that I don’t see you that way.” You give him a wink, eyelashes fluttering as the eye-shadow on your eyelid glitters. Bucky can slowly feel his knees turning into jelly.

He quickly brushes off the butterflies in his stomach, trying to regain his composure.

Bucky clears his throat and sends you a smile, which he hopes doesn’t look too strained. “You look great, Y/N.”

Whatever his complicated feelings are, he isn’t going to let them stop him from giving you a genuine compliment. Bucky knows how happy it makes you whenever he gasses you up.

As he had expected, you give him a huge smile. “Awh— thanks, Buck.”

Before Bucky can reply, Sam slides back into the conversation. “So what’s all this for, then?” He asks, one eyebrow up. After a beat, he smirks. “Got a date?”

Bucky ignores the heart wrenching feeling in his chest.

You laugh, and that’s when he notices the folded flag in your hands. You unfold it and wrap it around your shoulders. “Nah, just got a parade to go to. You know how it is.” You send him another wink.

The flag has a tricolour design.

Bucky had never seen it before.

Sam just laughs, bright chuckles filling up the otherwise empty space. “I see you, honey. I see you.”

You tie the flag into a knot around your neck, giggling. “Well,” You say, arranging your hair, grabbing a clutch from God knows where. “Enjoy yourselves boys, I know I will.”

With a final wink— and even a salute— you step out of Bucky and Sam’s view, heels clacking once more as you make your way to the elevator.

Bucky’s trance gets broken as soon as he hears Sam snickering. He turns, feeling his cheeks flush with heat.

“What.” He says, furrowing his eyebrows, trying his best to look annoyed even if embarrassment is slowly eating away at him.

Sam just laughs. “God, you need to tell Y/N that you’re into her. I’ve been seeing you pine over her for months, dude. You gotta tell her the truth.”

Bucky scoffs and turns back to the stove, seeing his food now burnt to a crisp. Great. “Yeah, no thanks.” He says, embarrassment now being replaced by exasperation.

Sam groans back. “She’s clearly into you—“

“No, she isn’t,” Bucky cuts Sam off before he can even say anything else; annoyance quickly turning into rage.

He looks back at Sam. “I know she isn’t.”

After a beat, Sam scoffs. “As much as you think you know shit,” He starts, shaking his head.

“You don't know shit.”

You can’t help but let out a small whimper once Bucky’s fist collides with the boxing bag.

The way his muscles flex at every punch, the way the veins in his neck pop out at every grunt, the way his tank top clung to everything…

God. He looks absolutely appetizing.

Wanda snickers from beside you. She passes you a water bottle and you take no more than five seconds to chug it all down. “Well,” She laughs. “Someone’s thirsty today.”

You wipe your mouth, groaning. “Shut up.”

Wanda just giggles. “Awh, come on Y/N, you can be honest with me.”

You turn to look at her, being greeted by her wiggling eyebrows. “Ugh, I don’t wanna talk about it, Wanda.” You roll your eyes and turn your head back again.

Which is a mistake on your part— because as you do so, you’re welcomed by the sight of Bucky’s toned stomach; his hands grabbing onto the bottom of his tank top, rubbing the sweat off of his forehead.

You proceed to choke on air.

Wanda just cackles harder and louder— but at least she has enough empathy to pat your back.

Bucky, upon hearing the boisterous laughter, drops his hold on the tank top. His eyebrows furrow for a moment, before his eyes land on you; his lips then curling up into a small smile.

The heat in your cheeks becomes even hotter, but you manage to compose yourself just for a second to send him a grin; albeit crooked and a bit awkward.

Thankfully he doesn’t notice anything.

As Bucky turns back around to face the other side of the gym, you turn back to Wanda— face fuming.

“Be quiet!” You hiss, irritation and embarrassment settling in. “He can’t know that I’m into him, okay?”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, face contorted to a look of incredulity. “Why?” She proceeds to poke you on your shoulder. “It’s clear that you guys both like each other— just confess already. I’m tired of it.” She groans and rolls her eyes.

You scoff and let your eyes fall downcast onto the wooden floor.

“Trust me…” You sigh, feeling the disappointment bubbling in your stomach. “He doesn’t like me that way.”

Wanda lets out a noise of disagreement. “I don’t even need to get in his head to know that he’s into you—“

“Wanda just—“ You cut her off, lifting your eyes up from the floor to stare at her fully. The disbelief in her eyes upon hearing your words is clear, but it isn’t enough to erase the feeling of heartache in your chest. “Just trust me...”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Oh come on— Y/N!” Tony shouts, sounding exasperated, making you lift your eyes from the chicken on your plate and onto his upon hearing your name.

You cock an eyebrow at him, hands paused midway into cutting your meal. “Yeah, Tony?”

Steve raises a hand up to cover Tony’s mouth, but the billionaire manages to swat it out of the way. “Would you— as in-eloquent as this may sound— bang Mr. Barnes?” He asks, face determined and jaw set tight.

The rest of the chatter on the dinner table promptly stops. Natasha and Wanda both look amused, but the rest of the team just looks either: A) Confused, B) Disgusted, or C) An equal yet unfortunate mix of both.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, caught too off guard to even answer. After a minute your mouth opens, but it closes back just as quick— open and close just like a fish.

Tony groans, arms crossing around his chest like a child. He leans forward to your direction. “Well? Yes or no?”

You force your lips to part with the intention of saying a reply, but Bucky beats you to it.

“Stark, I think we all know that Y/N would never say yes.” He says, voice dark and unamused.

“Well, I— for one— don’t,” Tony replies, not even letting you speak. His brows are furrowed as he shakes his head. He lifts one hand up, a finger going down as he says, “First off, and I say this totally platonically, you’re jacked. Second, we’re not blind— we see you both cuddling at the sofa when you’re watching The Witcher; and third, as a super soldier, your stamina in bed—“

Bucky cuts him off before he can even continue. “It’s because I’m a man, Stark.” His eyes narrow, annoyance and anger clear on his face. “Don’t you see that Y/N’s not into that?”

Your eyes widen, and before anyone else can interrupt you, you say, “Hold up— what?”

Bucky just stares back at you; and you notice the irritation on his face slowly morphing into hopelessness. “Aren’t you— you know…” Bucky lets out a sigh, metal hand waving in the air. “Gay?”

“What?” You respond back, eyebrows now knit together in confusion and surprise. “I mean yeah, but— no?”

Bucky just looks back at you in confusion.

“I’m not— I’m not gay. Not exactly,” You shake your head. “I’m bi— you know, as in bisexual?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, eyes wide in shock.

A silence reigns over the table before Tony breaks it again.

“Well that means that that lil’ reason is unjustifiable, then!” He claps his hands. “So what is it, Y/N? A yes? A no?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of rejection starting to bubble in your stomach. You know your answer, but it didn’t matter in the end.

“I don’t think what ever I’ll say will be worth it in the long run, Tony,” You try to play off the heartache by turning back to your plate. “Besides, I don’t have a chance, anyways.” You laugh half heartedly.

A beat passes— even Tony doesn’t reply to your words— until…

“What do you mean you don’t?” Bucky asks, low enough to be a whisper, but loud enough for you to catch it.

You look up, staring back into his cerulean eyes. “Well...” You try not to show your feelings as you shrug your shoulders. “Aren’t you gay?”

A pause, then— Bucky snorts. Actually snorts.

“Doll, I’m not—“ His eyes are crinkling, smile stretched wide. “I mean, yes, but I’m… I’m into women just as much as I am into men.”

You let your jaw drop.

Wait… So that meant…

This time, Steve interrupts. “Okay… I think I’ve had enough of dinner, how about we watch a film?” He stands up from his seat, his own chair loudly scratching against the wood as he tries to act nonchalant.

Everyone else— except you and Bucky— stands up, a chorus of “Yeah, sure.”‘s and awkward coughs filling the room. The team heads out in a straight file into the communal space.

Tony, before disappearing into the corner, sends you both a wink; Steve promptly whisks him away.

You look back at Bucky.

The two of you just stare at each other wordlessly; still reeling over the fact that you two had both been absolute idiots.

For a few minutes, silence engulfs both of you, until Bucky coughs.

“You still—“ He lifts up an arm and rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tick that you instantly recognize. “You still haven’t answered Stark’s question…”

You sit straighter in your seat, surprised at his words. The heat creeps up to your cheeks; and although you know now that you actually have a chance, the weight of rejection is still heavy.

After all, you had already accepted being turned down because of his ‘supposed’ attraction not including your sex— which, truthfully, hurts less than being rejected because of anything else.

You let out a chuckle, but it doesn’t end up sounding as happy as you had wanted it to be. “It’s not that important, Buck— you don’t want to know, trust me.” Your eyes fall down to your unfinished meal once more.

Bucky lets out a sigh, and for a few seconds he doesn’t say anything. Until…

“That’s the thing, Y/N… I— I want to.”

You look up, making eye contact once more.

“I want to know,” He says, eyes full of hope yet also doubt. “I’d rather know now than never.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

“So?” Bucky smiles, a small, unsure one. “Do you— as per Tony’s words— want to bang me?”

The laugh escapes your mouth as soon as Bucky pronounces those words, and you just take a second to compose yourself. God, isn’t this night just eventful?

As the last few giggles come out, you shake your head, feeling the courage to say the truth run up your veins.

Fuck it.

You fix your gaze into Bucky’s eyes— those cerulean blues that you can get lost in for days.

“I do want to bang you, Sergeant Barnes,” You say, and as his eyes flash with joy as your mouth quirks into a grin.

“But I don’t want just that…”

Before you know it, you had stood up from your seat and are now walking towards him; the fearlessness in you becoming bigger and bigger with each step you take.

Once you reach him, he stands up from his seat as well. He towers over you easily, but instead of being intimidated, you feel comforted.

“I want to… I want to go on dates with you, I want to cuddle with you, I want to talk about everything and nothing and just—“ You look up at him through your eyelashes, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you grip onto your nerves.

“I want you.”

Bucky doesn’t respond for a moment, prompting you to worry that you might’ve misread the situation, but instead of words he leans down— capturing your lips with a soft peck.

It’s quick, chaste— but it’s enough for your heart to soar.

You gaze back into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn and the butterflies in your stomach having a party.

Bucky smiles, lips quirked so high upwards that his eyes crinkled. You think— no, you’re sure— that you’d never get enough of the sight.

“I want you too.”

“Buck, how in the hell did you not know that I was bi? I walked around with a whole ass pride flag on my back!”

“It isn’t my fault that we didn’t have those back in the day— and besides, I’ve never heard you talk about having a crush on another guy!”

“That’s because I had a crush on you, dumb-ass. Plus, what about you? You spend all your time ogling at Geralt, I’ve never even seen you stare at a woman!”

“That’s because the only woman that I have my eyes on is you, doll!”

thanks for reading! as always, requests are open! & pls don’t forget to like and reblog, thank you! c:

[amuseoffyre]

Fic: Inverse Omens - 1793 - Paris

Notes: I’m so enamoured with the vain, lazy monster that is demon Aziraphale :D

1793AD – Paris

"You could've let me finish," Aziraphale complained as he was bundled through the gloomy corridors of the prison. "Have you any idea how hard it is to find decent crepes? And they had honey!"

"Shut up, aristo!" One the guards struck him hard across the shoulders with a crop and the demon froze, giving him a long, measured look. The man stared back at him rudely and all it took was a little rooting in his mind...

"Now that was rather silly, wasn't it, Pierre?" He took a step closer to the man. “Madeleine was so proud of you, wasn’t she? What will she think of you now?” He tsked, shaking his head. “Oh, I think we both know why she left, don’t you?”

Pierre looked as if he'd swallowed his tongue, but his compatriot didn't seem to notice.

"Allez," he said, pushing Aziraphale onwards.

There were several cells in the chamber, divided by bars, and Aziraphale was relieved to see third time was indeed the charm. Wide brown eyes stared across at him in dismay as he was bundled into one of the empty cages.

Thankfully, the angel waited until their gaolers stamped out and slammed the door behind them before rushing to the bars. "Aziraphale! You shouldn't be here!"

The demon snorted. "Coming from the angel in a cage, that's rich." He dusted himself down with a flick of his fingers. “What on earth are you doing here, my dear? I doubt there’s much place for miracles in a time like this.”

To his amusement, the angel went as red as his hair. “Er…” He had his hands wrapped around the bars and seemed very, very interested in them. “Well. No. Not officially.”

Aziraphale stared at him. “You came to Paris. In the middle of a bloody revolution. To perform unauthorised miracles.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Crowley said indignantly. “They were just… sort of… redistributed from people who could afford it.”

“I see.” Aziraphale couldn’t help smiling. The damned angel probably didn’t even realise how far he was straying into rogue territory. Heaven always had their favourites and if he was taking the miracles rightfully meant for them…

Thoughts slid into place.

“Ohhh,” he said with a nod. “That’s why you’re still sitting in here, isn’t it? You can’t perform any extra miracles in case they pick up on them?”

“Mm. Gabriel sent me a rude note the other week about getting… carried away.” The angel’s lips thinned to an unhappy line. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about!” he exclaimed. “It’s not as if I’m not doing the miracles. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“You’d think so,” the demon said consolingly, “but then Heaven does spend a lot of time speaking out of its backside, doesn’t it?”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley glared at him. “You can’t say things like that!”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

Crowley gaped at him, opening and shutting his mouth a few times. “Because–” he sputtered. “Because… because you can’t.”

Aziraphale spread his hands, chains jingling, and grinned. “Demon. If I can’t say it, no one can.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake…” Crowley huffed, then took a quiet breath. “What are you doing here anyway? You can just…” He made a flourish with one hand that made his shackles clatter. “I mean, you don’t need to be here.”

The demon snorted. “Three damned arrests before I manage to find you and you tell me you’d prefer it if I had just left you? I mean, I couldn’t have been more obvious if I tried.” He waved at his clothing, his favourite tan frock-coat with the lovely seed pearl beading. “Mind you, I would have preferred it if they had let me finish my crepes. It’s damned hard to find any at the mo–”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The angel blinked owlishly at him. “You came here to… find me?”

Aziraphale looked at him in fond amusement. “Clearly.”

“I thought– isn’t this– didn’t you do all this?”

“Me?” Aziraphale puffed up in indignation. “The most I did was spread about the ‘let them eat cake’ nonsense. Apparently, my lot think I’ve been quite influential in the whole thing because of it.” He shuddered in distaste. “You know I don’t like such messy business. Never have.”

“Oh.” The angel’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Well. Good.” He was quiet for a moment, then very tentatively asked, “Really? You came to find me?”

It sounded, Aziraphale thought darkly, as if all those who ought to have cared about the angel had been very neglectful of their duties. “Of course, my dear. Who am I going to tempt into dinner if you don’t have a head?”

Crowley ducked his head, looking even more flustered than usual. How absolutely delicious. “Oh. I– you don’t have to.”

Aziraphale snorted, turning over his hands and examining his chains. “Obviously.” A snap of his fingers and they collapsed around his buckled shoes. He stepped out of the tangle. “And,” he said with a smile, “since I know about your delicate sensibilities about accepting demonic miracles…”

He tossed the ring of keys, stolen from dear Pierre’s belt, grinning as the angel caught them.

Crowley hastily stepped back, unlocking his shackles and then the cell door, emerging as Aziraphale strolled out of his own cage. Aziraphale looked him up and down, tutting in concern. The poor fellow looked like he had been through the wringer, his respectable grey frockcoat torn in places and his shirt ripped and stained.

Crowley rubbed gingerly at his wrists. “I–” His brow furrowed. “Hm.”

Aziraphale leaned closer, lifting a hand to gently rub away the furrow between the angel’s brows. “Enough of that, my dear,” he chastised. “Spit it out. You know I won’t make a fuss.”

The angel fidgeted. “I was just wondering if an angel could hypothetically thank a demon for the rescue or if the hypothetical demon would get in trouble. I mean, technically, rescuing an angel wouldn’t look good.”

Aziraphale blinked at him. Honestly, the sweet thing had so much more concern for Aziraphale’s well-being than he really ought to. “Probably best not,” he agreed. “Although I suspect your hypothetical demon would tell you to shut up and stop being so sentimental.”

Crowley’s expression brightened. “That’s what I thought.” He looked at the keys in his hands. “Is there somewhere I can put these?”

Aziraphale groaned. “Don’t tell me you want him to find them?”

The angel gave him a look. “After all I’ve seen here? I was thinking the bottom of the Seine.”

Christ, he could be such a delightfully ruthless little piece of fluff, couldn’t he?

“I know the perfect spot, my dear,” Aziraphale said, “and there’s a lovely little place nearby that does the most divine crepes.”

“Crepes?”

“Mm.” Aziraphale leaned closer to him, widening his eyes and trying for his best cherubic expression. “Go on. Say you will. After all, I did just…” He mouthed the word ‘rescue’. “You.” He gave his lashes a careful bat and made sure to jut his lower lip out just enough.

“Fine!” Crowley kept a straight face for all of three seconds. “Fine. You win. Crepes it is.” He held up a finger. “One thing, though…” He nodded at Aziraphale’s lovely coat. “Are you trying for a fourth arrest?”

Aziraphale groaned. “They may be doing evil, but at least I have some standards,” he grumbled, flicking his hand upwards and replacing his beloved clothing with a shabbier ensemble and jabot and a tricolour sash for good measure. A snap of his fingers mended Crowley’s ripped coat too. After all, he could hardly be seen swanning about in rags, even if half the revolutionaries were. “Satisfied?”

The angel looked down at his coat, fingering the repaired fabric, then smiled at him, ember-eyes bright with happiness. “Perfectly.”

[faillong]

Knock knock gif

India welcomed back cheetahs after they went extinct in the country over 70 years ago. Prime Minister Narendra Modi said his mother will be very happy to see that he was blessed by a large number of womenĬheetah is back but hungry: Why were African big cats not fed during transit to India?Įight African cheetahs from Namibia were released into the wilds of the Kuno-Palpur National Park in Madhya Pradesh on September 17 as part of the celebrations of Prime Minister Narendra Modi's 72nd birthdayĬheetahs return to India: When animals were brought back from the brink of extinction 'Normally, I meet my mother on birthday, seek her blessings today so many mothers of MP have blessed me': PM Modi Prime Minister Narendra Modi turned 72 on Saturday, with greetings from leaders and other prominent personalities pouring in and admirers hailing his contribution to making a 'strong and self-reliant' India 'Modi ji inspired us to adopt, educate tribal kids on birth of children in our family' Yogi Adityanath said that the contribution made by Prime Minister Narendra Modi in the developmental journey of Uttar Pradesh is inspiring for all of us A Twitter user has come up with a GIF of the moment for other fans who missed the notable UP CM Yogi Adityanath inaugurates photo gallery on PM Modi's life The clip of the moment received much attention from internet users and went viral in no time. The fan, donned in the Indian jersey, was captured when vintage Kohli was raising his bat after the ton with a wide smile on his face. From the tricolour-covered crowd, an old fan won hearts on social media for his special gesture to the former India skipper. The stands witnessed Indian fans going crazy while celebrating the comeback of the man, who has been the sailor of the ship on India’s many successful occasions. The much-awaited Kohli show unsurprisingly delighted cricket enthusiasts around the globe. Kohli did manage to live up to the expectation and has ended the ton drought with his maiden T20 International hundred on Thursday against Afghanistan at the Dubai International Stadium. Add a shape crop to frame your newly cropped photo, apply filters, or add GIFs and animation for a dynamic design. Shop our favorite clothing from sleepwear and sportswear to beauty and swim. Though Virat Kohli had been going through a century drought, Indian fans did not lose hope to see him back among the runs. The worlds best bras, panties, and lingerie.

[richard20221]

The Lucknow Super Giants

Since the start of the year 2022, there has been a buzz around the upcoming IPL season 15. Many things have taken place behind the camera. IPL was expanded after many seasons and 2 new teams were added to this grand league. One of CVC capital the Ahmedabad team and another of RPGS group Lucknow.

 Now in this article, we will be talking about the Lucknow team. The Goenka headed team announced their name a few days back as Lucknow Super Giants. After the announcement of the name, there were mixed reactions from cricket frantic. Many termed the name as a copy of the name of the previous IPL team owned by the same group in the year 2016 to 2018. Last time the name was Rising Pune Super Giants and now it's Lucknow Super Giants. But according to the owners of the team they had conducted an online completion for the name and an 8-year boy won it suggested them the name as Super Giants.

 Now after the name launch, yesterday Lucknow Super Giants announced their logo. The logo was launched yesterday evening it also got some mixed reactions from the fans just like their name.

 The logo consisted of a bird-like creature painted in Indian tricolour with having Bat in blue colour in the middle and a ball painted in red colour placed at the centre of that bat. According to the owners of the team was stated that This is a new franchise and it draws its inspiration from Indian mythology and Indian tri colour.

 But the cricket geeks had mixed reactions on social media regarding this logo. Many termed this logo as a masterstroke while many termed it a modified version of their previous team (Pune) logo. That logo had the ball in the centre and was painted in shades of pink and purple while this one has batted in the centre and has Indian tricolour.

 In conclusion, it must be said that this new logo is a mix of both old concepts (design/idea) presented in a new and modern way.  Also it is good see that the franchise has given it an Indian touch by including the colours of Indian Tricolour.

Let us know what do you think of the new name and Lucknow Super Giants logo of the brand new IPL team

https://youtu.be/h9sINSCoYVM

[loveisinthebat]

Inverted Loaf

[transgender-chiroptera]

Tibby the Tricoloured bat, via

[primatechnosynthpop]

[Video description: two tricolour cats are in a carpeted hallway together. One cat is laying casually on its side, holding in its front paws a cat toy on a rod similar to a fishing pole. The cat holding the rod moves it slightly up and down, while the other cat intently watches the subsequent movement of the dangling toy attached to the string at the other end of the rod, and then bats at it. The audio is loud, confident-sounding rap music. End desc.]

When you get your cat a pet cat 

(via)

[tkmedia]

Crichton is as league as a Raudonikis squirrel grip, but Wallabies can borrow him for RWC

A Set small text size A Set the default text size A Set large text size With a World Cup in France on the horizon, Rugby Australia are ready to turn to their greatest secret weapon – the National Rugby League. Reports in recent weeks have suggested the Wallabies are set to throw the bank at Sydney Roosters superstar Angus Crichton to get him back to the XV-man game. ‘Bring him home’ they yelled – puffing from their smoking pipes atop their North Shore balconies. According to Wallabies legend Tim Horan, it was now or never. “If Rugby Australia and (coach) David Rennie haven’t had a chat to Angus already, they should,” Horan told The Sydney Morning Herald on June 25. “He is killing it in rugby league and the next six months are important in terms of gauging his interest. If he comes back, he has to come back for the right reasons, which is to play for the Wallabies in a World Cup.” Advertisement Why else would he switch codes, Mr. Horan? It is true that Crichton dabbled in the dark arts of rucks, mauls and penalty goals for a minute or two back in the day. While attending Scots College, Crichton was selected for both NSW Schools First XV and the Australian Schoolboys. All well and good except for the fact that at the very same time, he was also playing junior representative rugby league. As a boy growing up in the Riverina, Crichton cut his teeth with the Young Cherrypickers – one of the great country league clubs. That’s right – Angus Crichton is and always will be a ‘leaguie’. As rugby league as a Tommy Raudonikis squirrel grip or a Lang Park XXXX shower. Advertisement But if the Wallabies want to borrow our Angus for a few weeks – absolutely, go nuts! The big Tricolours second-rower is off contract at the end of next season and, despite Horan’s claims, there would be plenty of time for Crichton to reacquaint himself with his second love. But there could be more to this than meets the eye. Crichton’s sojourn to France could be Peter ‘The Mad Scientist’ V’landys’ greatest move yet. Could Angus in fact be an undercover agent sent by Lord PVL, himself? Parachuted directly into Wallabies camp on a risky mission to take down Les Bleus and the frog-eating ancestors that destroyed the mighty game of rugby league back in the 1940’s alongside “Zee Germans”?

ARLC chairman Peter V’landys. (Photo by Matt King/Getty Images) Sacre bleu! Advertisement To be fair, however, PVL couldn’t even get his Kangaroos into England. He’d have little idea how to get a Wallaby into Paris. We digress, as Rugby Australia could do far worse than slide a good old country boy like Crichton into their squad. By the time the the World Cup comes around in 2023, Rugby League World Cup 2021 may have been postponed again. There might be a few extra NRL stars ready to hop codes and help out the Wallabies in bringing back a trophy they haven’t won since 1999. Throw in a madman like Canterbury’s Jack Hetherington. He’s bat-**** crazy but any national side with ‘Cadbury’ slapped across the front of its jersey needs a little intimidation. The world’s fastest man… Josh Addo-Carr? Kalyn Ponga? Advertisement Would he settle for dreaming of getting smashed by the All Blacks, instead? But in the fair dinkum department, Angus Crichton would have already represented the Kangaroos at some point in the last few years if the NRL was serious about the international product. COVID-19 is a fair and reasonable excuse until you see what the rest of the world is doing in the sporting arena. You can’t knock Crichton for wanting to don an Australian jumper, in any code, at a World Cup. Good on him. Read the full article

[melmoland]

Got a happy meal for dinner figured I needed it after the week I've been having It says he's a bat but I guess it's his wings holding up the pencil? He's cute And it's a tricolour pencil Best happy meal toy I've gotten In a while At least since those avatar ones I could cannibalize for their light and sound sensors https://www.instagram.com/p/BxhsvGFB5qz/?igshid=1ozqzpkncramt

[hellomissmabel]

Catch me if you can (900 followers celebration)

MASTERLIST

Part 1: Teach me how to dance with you (800 followers celebration)

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word count: 3.309

Summary: Flashback to when you met Steve for the very first time. You and Bucky discuss your pregnancy and Steve is overjoyed because he’s going to be a Dad soon.

A/N: 900 FREAKING FOLLOWERS OMG!

A/N without the caps: This is part two to a very random series of mine. It’s based on the song “Catch me if you can” by Walking On Cars.

Disclaimer: I do not own this pic, credit where credit is due.

Catch me if you can Catch me if you can I just got my head down And I’m a little bit scared tonight I need to run just far enough So I can smile again, smile again So I can smile again

You would think that meeting a superhero would take place in the midst of a heated battle, surrounded by fire and flames whilst your anxiety and arousal shoots through the roof when a certain blond and muscular super soldier with a tricolour shield and a fancy stealth suit comes to your rescue and takes you away from all the mayhem and towards a more private and secure location.

Well, I think somebody has seen one too many action movies because that’s certainly, 100% not the case.

But it’s close enough.

The first time you met Steve Rogers, you were simply reading your book on a bench in Central Park when a man with dark glasses and a baseball cap took a seat next to you. Initially you didn’t think much of it and shuffled a little further away so that your thigh would not graze against his. Completely absorbed in your book, you jumped when the stranger suddenly placed his hand on your knee and you met his baby blues with bewilderment and utter surprise.

“My name is Steve Rogers,” he spoke softly enough for only you to understand, peeking over your shoulder with a jumpy half-smile. “You might also know me as Captain America.”

Oh, you definitely knew who he was right off the bat. It was as if your entire nervous system short circuited the moment you locked eyes. There are no words to describe the exact shade of blue that held you captive during those brief seconds he held your gaze. It’s the kind of blue that you don’t find in the colour spectrum simply because it’s so unique.

“Bad men are looking for me and I need your help,” he stresses with a pertinent insistence as takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Take me by the hand Take me by the hand But don’t you get too close now Cause I’m a little bit scared of life

You nod furiously with your head, adrenaline surging though your veins. Both of you get up from the bench and he guides you through a thick crowd of people strolling in the afternoon sunlight when all of a sudden you see a horde of men holding guns and making their way towards you. You wanted to panic but Steve tugged on your hand and put his arms around your waist, chaining you to his firm chest with a gentle thud.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he announces with an unabashed voice. He doesn’t even bother asking you the question anymore, his mind in full survival mode.

Steve’s cautious at first but then his lips gingerly connect with yours and he’s lost in your touch. He cradles your face in his hands as your fingers weave their way around his neck, tickling the dirty blond hair peeking from underneath his baseball cap. Somewhere deep inside of you, a fuse lights with an impeccable force. There’s no time to backpedal out of this idea so you might as well make the most of it.

I need someone to try and bring Me back to innocence, innocence Me back to innocence

He opens his mouth the slightest when your tongue brazenly caresses his bottom lip but before Steve has the sense to engage any further, you break apart. The men have walked straight past you and didn’t even blink an eye. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Steve shrugs as he looks away shyly.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” you chuckle lightly, his luscious eyelashes on full display when you drink in the vicinity of his overwhelming presence as your heartbeat returns to a steady pace.

What happens next is just a series of incoherent, awkward looks shared between you and the blond super soldier, his thumb circling nonsense patterns onto the soft skin of your hand he hasn’t let go of just yet. “So…. Where do you live?,” Steve asks you to break the uneasy silence, shuffling his feet clumsily.

A little caught off guard, you’re not sure if dragging a super soldier towards your small but cosy shared apartment is a good idea. With a wary look, you decide to take your chances, not a fibre in your entire body that’s ready to wake up from this bittersweet daydream. “Not that far actually. A five minute walk.”

Steve’s eyes light up a smidge. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”

Heads up, show down Come home with me Heads up, show down Come home with me

You don’t need to think long about his offer. Not every day you get to play pretend with Steve Rogers and get him to walk you home like the perfect gentleman he is. But then again, he might have an ulterior motive for asking you and just when the coin starts to roll, a loud bang snaps you out of it. Some of the men that are after the Captain have spotted a man quite similar to Steve, same height and built, and have opened fire.

“Oh no, not at all,” you quickly tell him. “If you need a place to lay low for the time being…”

“That would be great,” he speaks in a hushed voice, throwing sideway glances in the general direction of where the gunshots came from, visibly worried for your safety and naturally, his own.

You arrive at your apartment and just as you originally anticipated, you instantly regret the decision of taking none other than Captain America to your little hideout, having forgotten about the decorations that have been adorning your apartment ever since you moved in 5 years ago.

“At least let me explain,” you try tentatively when you see him ogling your abundance of Avengers collectibles.

There’s the Iron Man poster your Dad got you for your 21st birthday that’s hanging proudly above the TV, the Black Widow one in the middle of the kitchen and not to mention the giant replica of Captain America’s shield resting next to the living room couch, right across from the life-size cardboard version of him leaning against the wall.

“My Dad is obsessed with Iron Man,” you clarify timidly. “And then you showed up out of the ice and, well, let’s just say I have a tendency to go overboard when I’m excited. My roommates are the exact same so when we bought this place a couple years ago, we decided we wanted to brighten the place up a bit with our favourite superheroes and bought all the fancy decorations we could find.

Steve shoots you a wide grin yet there’s a tinge of suspicion hiding behind those pearly whites. “And where are your roommates now?”

“Sarah has gone back home for the weekend and Eva is out shopping which, knowing her, can take up pretty much the entire day. We’re good. No fangirling, I promise,” you add with a nervous smile and he noticeably relaxes at your answer, glad he doesn’t have to deal with any overexcited female members of the Captain America fan club fawning over him every few seconds.

You motion for him to take a seat on the couch, subtly removing the cardboard Steve Rogers and repositioning it someplace else where it isn’t staring right back at him. You also attempt to casually make the shield disappear but fail miserably when it clatters to the ground, startling Steve who huffs out a breathy laugh at your silly expression. He must admit you’re quite cute when you look all flustered.

“You know,” he coughs tensely when you’re bustling about in the kitchen, trying to make him a decent cup of coffee. “I’m sorry about… I didn’t mean to blindside you like that. With the kiss, I mean.”

“You have nothing to worry about, I enjoyed it. I’m a complete sucker for 90-year-old virgins from the forties,” you say over the fumbling with the coffee machine before you finally get it to work. But just as the first drops of dark liquid start to fill the cups, the combination of Steve’s uncomfortable silence and the intensity of your honest acknowledgement hits you like a bullet to the brain.

Before you can mentally slap yourself in the face, Steve lets out a bouldering laugh that fills the entire apartment with a warm glow of comfort and ease. The sound is intoxicating and soon you find yourself offering him a radiant smile in return. “I’ll take that as a compliment then,” Steve chuckles, clutching a hand over his heart as he doubles over in laughter once more, the relief rolling off in thick waves.

A curious frown strikes your astounded features. “What that your first kiss since the forties?,” you inquire boldly, shuffling over to the couch and handing him his cup before kicking off your shoes and making yourself comfortable at a respectable distance, making an effort not to invade his personal space by sitting too close because God knows you’ve already crossed enough personal boundaries today.

The mood instantly drops and the room rapidly feels a couple degrees colder. Steve turns his eyes away from your piercing stare. His voice is lower than before when he replies with a husky “Yeah…”

“I just had to ask because you kind of ruined things for me. How am I ever going to find a guy that compares to you?”

It was meant as a joke but once the words are out there you instantly regret speaking with your heart on your sleeve because damn, did you mean every word of it. It’s not a light topic or an easy conversation and the ache in your heart grows for him because you can relate, you can relate so much.

“A beautiful dame like yourself surely has no trouble finding a fella she likes?”

It’s not as much a question as it is a statement, one of insecurity because Steve obviously isn’t used to a woman complimenting him on his kissing abilities and secondly, it’s also a statement of disbelief because in his eyes, you are such a breath-taking specimen, which is why he sat down next to you in the first place.

Deciding you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough that it simply cannot get any worse, you decide to see how much you can push your own limits, throwing something extremely personal into the conversation, one you have no idea where it will lead to.

“This was my first kiss as well,” you disclose gingerly.

Steve’s mouth opens and then closes because honestly, he has no idea how to react to your confession. Just as he had mustered up the courage to ask you if he can kiss you again, your cell phone beeps and you see you’ve just received a message from your Greek roommate, Eva, telling you she couldn’t find what she’s looking for, that’s she frustrated and hungry and on her way down.

Sighing in both disappointment and relief, you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose trying to gently break it to the blond Avenger that his time is up. Steve immediately gets the message and without much further ado, he states it’s time for him to take his leave.

Heads up, show down Come home with me Cause I’m a little bit scared I’m a little bit scared tonight

“Hey,” Steve’s fingers lace around your wrist before you can open the door to let him out. “It was really nice meeting you. Under different circumstances, I would most definitely ask you out.”

To say you were shocked by his abrupt declaration is an understatement. “Under different circumstances, I don’t think we would’ve ever met.”

Steve releases a shaky breath, carding his fingers through his tousled blond locks before adjusting his baseball cap. He knows you’re probably right. “If I never see you again,” he continues with a heavy heart, “Remember that there’s someone out there thinking about you.”

“Steve…,” you whisper kindly before he pulls you in for a chaste kiss. It’s short and sweet and doesn’t last long but it’s long enough to have your heart plummet into the floor beneath your feet in disenchantment when Steve eventually breaks away.

Under different circumstances your heart would break for this man, but there never was anything between you two so there’s no reason for you to be upset. The same, however, applies to Steve. You’ve given him a taste of what it feels like to be a simple man with a girlfriend and a nice apartment. You’ve given him a feeling of the thing he wants most.

“You haven’t even told me your name yet,” Steve mutters with a shy, lopsided grin.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Y/N.” and with that he’s out the door and towards his next adventure.

Catch me if you can Catch me if you can A stranger walks beside you And we’re just lovers for the night

“I’m not going to deny it, we’re in a really bad place right now.” You hang your head in defeat, dropping your eyes to ground-level as you continue to toy with the tea bag in your empty cup. “I’ve still got 4 months left and I sense Steve’s anxiety is growing.”

“You’ve already made it this far. That’s a big achievement, Y/N,” Bucky guarantees you, distracting your thoughts with a quiet kiss to your temple. Whatever they may say about this man you do not care about, because all there is to know is this: Bucky Barnes is not a villain, he is your best friend and your boyfriend’s best friend. He is your support system and that’s that.

“Thanks, Buck,” you whisper into his chest, wishing to dissolve into the fabric of his red Henley.

“Y/N,” he says softly, shedding himself of his brotherly persona as his tone transforms into one of deep concern. “You do know I’m not buying it, don’t you?”

You feign innocence, plastering a fake smile on your broken façade. “I don’t know what you mean, Buck.”

 “Y/N,” he repeats your name more sternly, “Talk to someone, Y/N,” Bucky advises with a gentle look in his river blue eyes. “Please. If not for yourself, then do it for Steve and if that doesn’t work, do it for baby Steve.”

This struck a sensitive chord and you sense yourself crumbling down on the inside, your outside staying somewhat neutral by Bucky’s words of advice. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that,” you shrug.

“You might not be an Avenger in title or a Rogers in name, but you are one of us. You are brave and frankly, the most beautiful of all of us. You outmatch Tony and Bruce in wits, Wanda and Natasha in looks and you know how to scare the living shit out of Sam and Clint, which I think is the greatest accomplishment ever. There’s not a doubt that you and Steve will get through this.”

Cocking your head to the side to look into Bucky’s eyes as you speak, you can feel the anguish ebbing away. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” And with that you pull Bucky into another big bear hug.

And when the sun comes up you wake and just And leave it there, leave it there Yeah we can leave it there

You are a flawed person and life reminds you of that on a daily basis. It gets harder and harder for you to live, reality forcing you to switch to a fight or flight module as the breath is ripped from your throat every time you try to make it work. You want to be cleansed of all feelings, you just want to be in love with Steve and not have to worry about anything else, about the consequences your actions bring forth and the desire that has been burnt by the fire and drowned by the rain.

You and Steve can talk for hours on end, laying side by side in the bed. His fingers will skim the exposed length of your arm and you will smile at the tickling sensation, carding your hands through his damp, dirty blond hair and resting your lips on his temple. He closes his eyes when your soft skin connects, his breathing levelling out. The bedsheets will smell exactly like him but their scent will slowly fade like the heartbeat of your unborn baby is destined to do. Yet if there’s anything, anything at all that will prevent the inevitable, you’d go to the end of the earth to make it happen.

You will tell him how much you love him and as you blink away the tears, Steve’s heart will sing a dark, impure falsetto trying to make you understand you’re his one and only. He will try to dodge the bullet but you won’t let him, your introverted nature gaining the upper hand, talking sugar-coated lies in the sweetest of voices. Because that’s what it takes to protect yourself from more pain, another loss, another heartbreak. Another death.

But that’s not what happens.

Take me by the hand Take me by the hand But please don’t want to know me Cause I’m a little bit scared of life

The months go by slowly and you’re left dangling on a thin thread, the regular check-ups with Bruce and Tony only getting more and more frequent as your physique can no longer support the changes your body is undergoing. Not yet bed-ridden but struggling with your health, you attempt to enjoy the little cocoon Steve has constructed for the three of you. His hands are splayed out on your stomach as the baby kicks for the very first time, your giggles amplifying the teardrops spilling from his eyes and dripping onto your naked skin. Steve then leans in to rest his ear on your soft baby hump, cooing his little wonder with a silly, high-pitched voice.

“You know there’s a bet going on,” Steve chuckles quietly, returning his attention back to you as he continues rubbing circles onto your bare belly. Your fingertips wipe away the drops from his cheeks, smiling sweetly at the blond super soldier. “Sam thinks it’s going to be a boy and so does Nat and Bucky. Wanda, Tony and Clint are going for a girl. Thor is even convinced you’re harbouring twins in here,” he jokes as his lips caressing your swollen form.

Steve props himself up on his elbows next to you and as you lift your head to give him a chaste peck on the lips, he laughs tenderly into the kiss. Leaning your forehead against his, you cup Steve’s face in your hands. “I want a boy,” you confess shyly.

“I’ve always wanted a son,” Steve replies lovingly, “But I honestly don’t care whether it’s a boy or a girl. This little bundle of joy is a miracle, our miracle.”

He captivates you with his lips and you merge into his body, you and Steve and the baby becoming one entity. You let go and for one flawless minute there’s nothing else but the feeling of Steve’s loving, plump lips on yours. “You’re still one very talented kisser, mister Rogers,” you joke whilst nudging his nose with the tip of your finger.

“Practice makes perfect,” he replies with a cheeky smile. “You were my first kiss and I’m pretty sure you’ll be my last, Y/N.”

And from the bull is all you need To know, so play pretend, play pretend Oh won’t you play pretend?

Tagging: the ever-wonderful @beccaanne814-blog @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder  @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @winterboobaer @shamvictoria11 @thedragonblood @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @ourpeachskies @austinamelio @romanovoff @4theluvofall @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @mehrmonga @themcuhasruinedme@theoneandonlysaucymo @hymnofthevalkyries @kit-kat-coffeeworld @nenyakj @amrita31199 @justareader​

[cricmain]

Opinion: Virat Kohli drawing power from administrative vacuum in BCCI #Cricket #Pakistan #ViratKohli #BCCI #BoardOfControlForCricketInIndia #Captain #Autocracy #Fielding #TestCricket #India #Vacuum #VivRichards #Batting #ImranKhan #Cross #QuarterbackSack #Fitness #Pashtuns #GaddafiStadium #CoenzymeA #SyedKirmani #Cusp #SachinTendulkar #RetailPark #RamachandraGuha #MikeBrearley #Bangalore #England #Tricolour #Helmet #IST #IndianStandardTime Captain Kohli wields enormous power and people have learnt not to cross his path. https://cricmain.com/2018/10/17/opinion-virat-kohli-drawing-power-from-administrative-vacuum-in-bcci/