#anyways thanks for the ask and thanks for knowing PEGGY

[smolandweirdwriter]

Tell me about I'm not incompetent (but damn, you make me feel that way) BECAUSE I UNDERSTAND THAT REFERENCE

oooh yay! I'm not incompetent (but damn, you make me feel that way) is a fantasy high fic centering adaine and kristen junior year as they struggle with adhd. it's mostly a (VERY) self-indulgent fic about how neurodivergence is such a, well, diverse experience, even for people with the same neurological disorder/difference, and coming to terms with the fact that everyone's brains work differently, and that that should be a source of pride and joy rather than shame.

I'm pretty sure part of this also entails I provide an excerpt? so here you go-

"Yeah, but -- I mean, Aelwyn did it!" Adaine exclaimed.

Ah, Kristen thought. There it is. "I don't think those are exactly the same set of circumstances," she said, wishing she could find the right thing to say because so far it seemed she hadn't said it.

"You're right!" Adaine burst out. "Hers were harder! My sister managed to keep her grades absolutely perfect while helping an evil being rise to power while running a lucrative drug-dealing business while going to parties where she did said dealing to her classmates, and I never knew she was stressed, and neither did our parents. She managed it! And you're all managing it! And I'm…" Adaine slumped on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands as though doing so would make her shame go away. "Why am I not managing it?" she asked quietly, her voice cracking. "I have it easier than most of you, and I'm not managing it at all."

"Adaine…" Kristen said down on the bed next to her. "I'm not managing it. And I don't think Aelwyn was either."

[buckyshoneybunny]

The White Wolf (Part 2)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader   

W.C- 1000 

Warnings- None really, slow burn 

A/N- OMG!!! Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and follows!! You have no idea what this means to me! Anyway, I’m so sorry this is late, I hope you all love it though! Part three will be in Bucky’s POV! I will try to get the next part out sooner but shit kinda got busy here so no promises. Anyway hope you enjoy! (Let me know if you want to be added to the tagslist)

Taglist-  @blackbirdwitch22 @lesleurs

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Duffle bag in hand, you run all the way back to Bucky’s cabin, which was a lot farther then you thought. You run in and toss your bag on the couch.  

“Bucky?” You call, even though you know he isn’t here. You run back outside.  

“Steve!” You yell. You run around the forest yelling his name for what seems like forever. You come across a group of cabins, sitting on one of the porches you see Steve, two red heads, another guy, and a brunette.  

“Steve!” You speak desperately.  

“Y/N?” He gets up and walks over to you, confused. “What’s going on?” 

Before you can answer, the scarier looking red head speaks up, “What the hell is a human doing in here?” 

“There’s no time for that!” You pant.  

Steve puts his hands on your shoulders, “Y/N, what’s going on?” 

“It’s Bucky, he’s gone! H-he was supposed to be waiting for me at the edge of the woods but when I got back, he was gone and there was a blood where I had last seen him. I-I can’t find him a-and-” 

“Y/N, deep breath. It’s okay, we’ll find him. I think I already know where he is.” Steve cuts you off.  

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves. “How can you know what happened?” 

“A regular person couldn’t have taken him; it would have to be another werewolf.” 

“Rumlow,” the other man growls.  

“Who’s Rumlow?” You ask, confused.   

Steve explains that he’s the leader of the other pack, that Bucky and him are rivels. You also learn the other man is Sam, the other people in the pack are Clint, Wanda, Natasha, Kate, Yelena, and Peggy. You explain how you met Bucky. 

“You mean to tell me Barnes didn’t kill you?” Natasha grins and tilts her head. “Did he happen to sniff you?”  

“Yeah, he buried his face in my neck,” you laugh.  

“Oh my god!” Sam laughs, “You’re Bucky’s mate!”  

Your eyes widen. “What?”  

“Werewolf's can only smell their mate,” Peggy, Steve’s mate pipes up. 

“B-But that’s impossible, I’m human, there’s no way I’m his mate,” you feel like you’re dreaming, this whole day so surreal.  

“I’m human.” Peggy says.  

“Really?”  

“Oh yeah, it took me a while to wrap my head around it too. But once I did, everything fell into place.” She smiles and looks at Steve, she’s in his lap. He looks back at her with heart eyes.  

“How does the whole claiming, marking, and rut thing work though?” You ask, you have headache at this point.  

“You have to be claimed in front of the pack, if you weren’t human then it could just be you and Bucky but the pack needs to see it happen to officially welcome you.” She explains.  

“Is that what you did?” She nods. There’s rustling in the woods behind you, you all turn to see the other man, Clint, running towards the cabin in his wolf form. At the last second, he transforms into his human form. 

“I found drag marks leading to Rumlow’s camp,” he pants.  

Steve and Sam jump up, “Let’s go,” Steve says. “You girls stay here.” 

“Wait but-” 

“No, Y/N, wait here while we check it out,” Steve interrupts you.  

“But Steve-”  

“If they find out you’re Bucky’s mate, they’ll kill you without a second thought. Stay. Here.” You nod. 

As the boys leave, you plop back into your seat and put your face in your hands. “I can’t help but think this is all my fault,” you mutter.  

“I mean it kind of is,” Yelena’s Russan voice answers.  

“Lena!” Natasha, her sister, scolds.  

“Look, Barnes is strong, he’ll make it out alive and then you will be reunited again,” Yelena adds, gentler this time.  

“Yeah, but what happens then? Do I just drop everything to be with Bucky? I can’t just drop everything, my life I-” 

“Y/N, calm down, let's just focus on bringing Bucky home, okay?” Natasha cuts you off. You nod.  

The boys come running back.  

“He’s there,” Sam pants.  

“What’s the plan? How can I help?” You ask, frantically. 

“You,” Steve grabs your shoulders. “Need to go to Bucky’s cabin and mark it with your scent.” 

“Huh?” You ask with a dumbfound look on your face.  

“He has a plan, but when he gets loose, he’ll be a feral alpha wanting nothing more then to claim his mate.” Steve answers. “Go.” 

You look at everyone unsure and worried. Natasha stands up.  

“Go, it’ll be okay.” She gives you a reassuring smile.  

As you walk back to his cabin you can’t help but spiral in worry. What if he doesn’t like you or make it back safe? What will your parents and friends say, will they think you’re crazy? Every single ‘what if’ runs through your mind, but every time Bucky crosses your mind, it’s like a soft comforting presence settles over you.  

Just as you reach the cabin’s front porch, the sound of a twig snaping breaks you out of your thoughts. You tense when you hear a growl, one that sounds nothing like Bucky. On instinct you dart into the cabin, shutting the door just in time.  

Looking out the window you see a wild haired wolf, chipped teeth, and scary looking. You slide down the wall, the weight of everything finally catching up with you. You break down in tears, yearning for the one person who can make things better.  

Once you finally calm down you set about ‘marking’ his cabin with your scent. You throw clothes here and there, lay in his bed and couch, did basically anything you could think of to make the place smell like you. 

The next couple of days are spent twiddling your thumbs, not so patiently waiting. When finally on the second night you’re woken by a familiar growl. Looking over at the owner of the noise, you see two steel blue eyes shining in the moon light staring back at you. A shiver runs down your spine.  

Bucky. 

[theconstantsidekick]

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (10)

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Genre: Angst with a sprinkle of happiness?

Summary: Goodbyes are a bitch, aren't they? Especially when you the future better than the people in question.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: i wrote this before the entire fucking series

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (9) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“I have been thinking. I do that these days. I think a lot—all the time. You’ll be surprised to hear that it started long before whatever this shitshow was… I have been thinking a lot and I have to tell you, I hate thinking.” Tony’s sitting in his workshop at the compound as a hologram projection of his sister’s recorded message plays in front of him. He watches as she shakes her head with something akin to sorrow.

“It makes me heavy. It bogs me down with the weight of my thoughts—which inevitably turn into feelings. And you—you, Anthony Edward Stark, know better than any man who’s ever lived that my feelings are so. very. big. Humongous. Ginormous. Brobdingnagian.” Y/n laughs then, a broken small little thing, and shifts in her seat where she’s manspreading like she owns whatever place she recorded this message in.

“I think… I think about friendships. I think about you, and Nat, and Rhodey, and Howie, and Maria, and Peggy. Then I think about Thor off in space somewhere. I think about Bruce too and wish he’s miraculously found Thor and is on his way home, hopefully. I think about Sam, I think about Wanda and Vision and Happy and Pep and—it…it makes my heart heavy. Because sometimes I think about family and somehow all the same names pop right back into my head. It makes me feel warm.” She smiles, and his heart—his cheating, broken, angry heart—takes some solace in knowing that at least that was real.

“I remember when Maria handed you to me after she had spent hours screaming for you to just get the hell out of her in that hospital room. I wasn’t in there—in the room, I mean… I was too scared to go in—private moment and all that… Until your father came barging out, all sweaty and scared, like he was about to shit a brick. He walked past me at first but when he did, I got up on my feet and he turned and looked at me and his face went slack. I have never felt that kind of fear. But it was gone as quick as it came cause Howie was shouting at me, asking me where the fuck had I been this entire time while shoving me inside the delivery room. The moment I went in, your mother fucking screamed ‘thank fuck you’re here’! And that was that. If there was a doubt about it before, it was gone now. I was a Stark, through and through. Alien blood be damned. This was my little family.” Her eyes seem misty, Tony notes. She’s all dressed up in a spectacular all-white three-piece suit, with her blazer laid carefully on the back of her seat.

“I held your mother’s hand and watched as the most important person of my life came into existence. We were all crying by then, tears of joy. 

“After it was over, she wanted to get some rest. Howard had apparently shat that brick he was so desperately holding onto by his perky asshole and was therefore already deep in slumber… which by the way—typical Howard. So anyway, Maria wanted a well-deserved nap so she handed you off to me. And I will never forget what she said. ‘Look after him, will you?’ It might have been framed as a question, but a question it was not. It was an order, as clear as day, written in blood and tears and leftover placenta liquid.” It makes Tony wonder how many more stories he has yet to hear. He’s known this woman his entire life, quite fucking literally and yet, in moments like these, the moments that matter the most, she always has a new story for him. 

“I held you in my arms and I had a purpose. From that point on, I would have a purpose for the rest of my cunty god-forsakenly long life—watch out for you. To have your back, no matter what…” She exhales as her head falls, seemingly too heavy with thoughts for her to carry with any ease at all. “I had a duty of care.”

He watches as she brings her palms over her eyes, pressing them in to try to relieve whatever pain she can… None of it lifts, he knows. He’s speaking from experience.

With a deep breath in, she sits up once again. “I am not telling you all this to say that I would have chosen differently. I wouldn’t have. I never could have, I hope—I just hope one day you can understand why that was. I am, however, telling you all this in some twisted way to explain perhaps? All your life you have been used to the idea of me having your back no matter what happened, and this—this fucking cock boggling mess was the first fucking time I ever faltered. And for that… For that, I am deeply sorry, Anthony. My intention has never been to hurt you, ever. I said a lot of things. Really shitty stuff. I said those things in the heat of the moment—I couldn’t fucking stop it, Stark. I just couldn’t. Try as I might, they kept spilling. Th—there was a fucking hole in my chest, burning and itching and drilling deeper still. I couldn’t control it, it ached and hurt and burnt and I just… I couldn’t stop. Because it was fear. Because I was scared. I was—I still am. I am so fucking scared, Tony. I am always so goddamn scared, you know?” She’s a mumbling crying mess now, and Tony feels like absolute fucking shit. 

“The life I had before all this, before you—it was horrid, Tony. It was so bad. I woke up every day hoping it would finally be the day I’d meet the bullet with my name on it and it would be my last. And every fucking day it wasn’t. Which was worse… but it was also better because I didn’t want to die, you know? I didn’t want to die without knowing what it—what it fe—felt like to be happy.

“I kept living in that filth.” There is so much fucking disdain in her voice as she speaks, his own blood starts curdling. “I kept going, kept doing The Orphanage’s dirty work, then I did HYDRA’s dirty work, then I did S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. Because I was scared. And as badly as I wanted to die, I wanted to live way more. I wanted—” She’s out of breath and she looks so fucking distraught, he doesn’t even know how to fucking react. He has never seen her like this. Years and years of living with his sister, an entire life’s worth of memories, and never did he know she was hurting this badly… How the fuck did he not know?

“I just wanted to live. I wanted to escape… one day. And back then, when I was in the fucking thick of it, it never felt like I could. You have to understand, up to that point, I had lived my entire life in what was the equivalent of one fucking jail cell after another. Never in my wildest dreams did I even think of having a room with a window, let alone a view. Even when I thought of it all ending—when I thought of my freedom, I thought of the ways I could hide, of where I could get passports, of what supplies I would need while being on the run from whatever organization had control of me at that time. I just wanted to own myself—and that would have been freedom enough.” 

She composes herself.

“So, when you came to me with all your, honestly, very good intentions of getting us to sign the accords I was—” Her composer slacks, “I was back there again! I was back in a small tiny room, with an open fucking toilet and a bed that made you want to sleep on the floor. I was back to being controlled and tortured and experimented upon and I was back to being played with like a goddamn machine!” She’s almost pleading now, tears running down her face. 

“I would do anything for you, Tony. You have to know that.” There is a seriousness in her words that scare the shit out of him, cause she says, “I would do anything for you. You want the world? It’s yours. I will burn it to the ground if you asked me to, not even question it. You want it whole and pure? I will conquer it for you in a fortnight. But–but,” she breaks once again, “But I couldn’t—I cannot do this. I cannot go back.” She wipes away her tears.

“I have tasted freedom now. I didn’t know how sweet it was before. I didn’t know what it felt like to have a family, to have friends who love me. I didn’t know what it was like to have a room with a view… I didn’t know what it felt like to have a choice. I can’t give it up now, Tony. Please, you have to understand, I can’t. I can’t go back. Please.” She’s fucking begging him now, she’s so desperate that it rips him apart. Is this what went on in her head when he talked about it all? She seems so fragile and afraid… he did this to her? He wasn’t aiming for this. He was never aiming for this. He just wanted to make up for his sins but… at this cost? At her cost?

“You know why I got the cruelest fucking missions they had? The ones that would rot you from the inside out? Cause they knew my past. They’d see my record, and they’d send me off to missions that were soul-sucking, motherfucking shit that made me puke my guts out the moment I was in the clear. Because jobs that filthy belong to people of filth. I got the jobs that couldn’t be done by someone with a soul, done by a man who was whole. It didn’t matter if it was The Orphanage, HYDRA, or even S.H.I.E.L.D. I got the soulless job because they knew I never had one, to begin with…” 

Fuck him.

He’s the most selfish asshole out there.

She exhales then… a pause, a beat, and a moment of soft introspection. He can practically pinpoint the moment she decides to compose herself. It happens between the nervous bite of her lip and her jaw clicking in place. He knows her at least that well…

She sits up straight. “But that was then, and this is now. Now I have. Now I want. I won’t even let anyone touch my freedom, not even in death.” She clicks her tongue. “So it just makes me think, you know? I think about things like this. About you and your parents, and my friends—my family. I think about them. I think about these things when I wake up, when I fight, when I dream. All that is to say… I’m not callous about this life. I am not callous about the decision I made. It weighs on me heavier than you know. It wretches me apart, with every breath…”

He doesn’t want to hear the part that comes next.

“But—but I can’t stay, Tony. You know I can’t… and for that too, I am sorry.” 

He’s never really spent a day in his life when he couldn’t reach out to his sister. He’s a fairly old dude, so you have to pardon him if he’s quite scared of it. He doesn’t know how to do it. He just doesn’t.

“I didn’t know about Barnes. Fuck, I didn’t have the faintest clue. And I absolutely did not know about that traitorous bastard who I won’t even dignify by naming. I—” Her fist clenches as she brings it up to cover her mouth. Her anger is so fucking palpable that Tony thinks he might just be able to sense it, that is until the footage starts glitching and he realizes, it’s cause her anger is making her emanate power. He thought he could hear static because there is fucking static, it is coming from her. She’s trying to calm herself down.

She breathes in, the footage settling. “He doesn’t matter,” She says with cold unfocused eyes and he can see how deep that secret has dung into her. “This isn’t about him. This is… this is about me, pleading with you, urging you to—to” she pauses, long and hard, with a small smile on her face. It’s the same one she wears when she knows she’s about to do something profoundly fucking stupid. Consider Tony terri-fucking-fied. “This is me urging you to, at a much later date in life—try and forgive Sergeant Barnes.”

“Woman, have you gone fucking crazy?!?!! Did you hit your fucking head when you decided TO DROP A BUILDING ON US?!” Tony knows he’s screaming at a holographic projection but it’s not for naught.

Because his sister is waving away his screams with an annoyed face, “Don’t fucking freak the fuck out. Just like, listen to me! TONY!” His tirade stops. She—her recording, somehow just knows. Cause then she exhales. “I am not saying now, and I am certainly not saying you have to. I am just pleading with you to consider it… Because—well because there are countless people out there in the world who…” she bites her lip. “I am to them what Barnes is to you. Except, unlike me, Sergeant Barnes never even had the chance to rebel, he was brainwashed and tortured, and broken down to be used.” And before Tony can begin to protest, her hands fly up to stop him. “That was all I wanted to say about that. I am done, the decision is completely up to you. Just you, and there is absolutely no right answer, just the one you choose. This was just…” she smiles, “something for you to think about.” 

He can’t help the corner of his mouth from curling a little as well.

She kicks back then, hands crossed in front of her as she looks around wherever she is. “That, yeah. I think that was my grand speech. I know it feels like I’m leaving you behind somehow, but I promise you I am not. I’m just a… actively hunted fugitive of the state.” She shakes her head from side to side in consideration before adding, “And I have a few dues to pay… I’ll be back once they are cleared.” 

She looks up at him then. It almost feels like she’s in the room with him.

“But no matter what happens, I’m here, Tony. You know how to reach me. And I will always come when you call. I will always be there for you. Even if you don’t see me there, trust me. I am there. I will always have your back.”

Something catches her eye, she pulls out her phone and checks it.

Rolling her eyes, she pockets the device and looks back up at the camera.

“Ugh, yeah. I think our time here is up…” She finally smiles, happy and true. “You just pulled in, so I gotta run.”

WAIT, WHAT??

HE JUST PULLED IN? 

TO WHERE?!!

He runs back to his station, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. run diagnostics on the recording, analyze it top to bottom, tell me where it was taken.”

Meanwhile, he watches as his sister stands up. 

“I love you, kiddo. And I’m always right behind you.”

More commotion on the recording as F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds, “Sir, the footage was taken here, at the Avenger’s compound.”

“That cocky bitch,” Tony curses, almost in awe of her. Cause fuck! Even Rogers had the good sense to courier his fucking apology. What was this woman thinking? “Tell me when F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

He watches as his sister puts on her blazer and fixes up her suit.

“17 minutes ago, sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers.

“WHAT?!”

“There was a gap in the security footage, it was cloned to play in a loop. It’s almost seamless sir, except this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. presents the footage on the screen in front of him.

Meanwhile, the hologram of his sister walks up close to the camera and leans down to look at it face-to-face. She presses a kiss to her fingers and presses the fingers to the camera.

“See you, space cowboy.” With that, the holograph is gone.

Tony falls onto his chair in complete surprise and an unwitting smile on his face, as he watches his sister on the CCTV footage waving at him with a wink.

“That fucking—”

Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

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i post at weird times, please join the tag list to get notified. DMs are open

[aurumacadicus]

I finished binging Miss Fisher again:

"So why did you fall out with Howard, anyway?" Steve asked, slouching down in his seat as the car inched up the driveway. He hadn't asked before, and as he'd watched Peggy's hands tighten on the steering wheel as they passed through the gates to the Stark mansion, it finally occurred to him to wonder why he wasn't still involved with SHIELD after being one of the founders of SSR.

Peggy worked her jaw delicately. "We had a disagreement about values," she finally said.

"I can't imagine why," Steve muttered, and relaxed a little when the corner of Peggy's mouth curled up.

"Well, he'll surely enjoy me coming to him for help," Peggy added with a sigh, pulling to a stop. She took a moment to take a deep, fortifying breath, then let it back out slowly, giving Steve a glance out of the side of her eye. "And that I'm bringing you."

"I can thank him for looking for me so long," Steve agreed, and turned to unfold himself out of the car as Peggy did the same. Even though she was in her sixties, she was still sprier than he was; cars had gotten smaller while he was in the ice, somehow.

The door opened before they could knock or ring the bell, and Peggy brightened a little, greeting, "Mr. Jarvis."

"Ms. Carter," Mr. Jarvis answered, voice clipped, and her smile faltered as quickly as it had arrived. He bowed slightly, motioning toward the sitting room on the left. "Mr. Stark will be down to see you presently."

Steve took it as the dismissal it was, wondering at Peggy's reaction. There was so much about her that he didn't know. So much about the world he didn't know. His years in the ocean had done him no favors. He stared at a painting of peaches and tried not to think about how much he'd lost. Then his ears caught the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and he turned, clasping his hands behind his back as he instinctively fell into parade rest.

The man coming down the stairs was not Howard, Steve realized, even though he looked a lot like him. Anthony, he remembered the file saying. Howard's son. Steve hadn't believed Howard would ever settle down, but here was proof, walking casually down the stairs as if they had all the time in the world. To their surprise, he used the post at the bottom of the stairs to swivel directly to face the sitting room they'd been directed toward, walking over like he was meant to be there.

"Tony," Peggy said, and she was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Aunt Peggy," Tony answered, voice measured. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Or should I be calling you that?"

Peggy sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, looking vaguely annoyed, then opened them again. "Tony, I'm here to see your father."

"I'm the only Mr. Stark here," Tony told her flatly, scowling. "You'd know that if you ever called. Mom said she wanted to take a trip around the world while they still had their health, and they left three months ago. You'd know that if you read the society papers." He waved his hand dismissively. "And just so you know? I'm not really inclined to help. You didn't make it to a single one of my dissertations even though I invited you. You stopped coming to my birthday parties. You didn't even come to my coming out party," he added, and that last part was where Steve finally heard perhaps the first real emotion Tony had shown since he appeared on the stairs--hurt.

Omega, Steve remembered suddenly, at the mention of a coming out party. Tony didn't carry himself like the typical omega, he thought, tilting his head a little. But then, high society always carried themselves a little differently, he remembered. Howard had never carried himself like any of the alphas Steve had grown up with. It stood to reason that Tony would be much the same.

"Tony," Peggy began gently. "I'm sorry that my falling out with Howard affected you, too. I should have tried harder to stay in touch. But you were a child when that happened."

"And I was just as much of a pain in the ass then," Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If they made a fuss about me talking to you, I would have just screamed the house down. I was good at it," he added with a huff.

Steve figured with the way Peggy winced, he was telling the truth.

"Whatever. I don't want to hash this out. What does SHIELD need from my dad? I'll pass the message on when they call next week," Tony continued before she could say anything else. "Maybe. If I feel like it."

Peggy looked like she was considering pressing him, but whatever she saw in his face, it made her back down. "It's about your mother's gala, Tony."

At that, Tony's gaze sharpened, shoulders straightening as his posture changed from dismissive to alert. "I'm in charge of the the foundation while Mom's on vacation," he said, sharp-edged and stern. "What would Dad have to do with that?"

"Hydra is trying to reestablish a foothold in New York," Steve finally answered, taking a step forward. "They intend to slither in through charities, because they believe it's easier to launder money that way. We believe several members will be trying to infiltrate the Maria Stark Foundation, and the gala will be where they make their move."

Tony swiveled to him, eyes calculating. "And who the fuck is this?"

Peggy glanced at him sharply, silencing Steve from answering. "This is the lead agent on the case, Agent Roger Stevens."

Tony pursed his lips, and the look he gave Steve wasn't entirely disgust, but it wasn't... not entirely disgust, either. Steve found himself sweating a little, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

"I suppose if I tell you that I'll take care of it, you'll poke your nose in anyway. Omega can't handle it," Tony said, lifting his chin at him aggressively.

Oh, Steve thought, wondering if this was how Bucky felt when Steve had raised his chin at him and asked, 'You wanna fight, too?' Tony thought that Steve believed he was incapable. "I'm sure you can handle it," he answered carefully when Peggy simply raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat when Tony rocked back on his heels, clearly skeptical. "I just wonder. How you're going to arrest anyone. You need... authority from a governing body to do that."

Tony stared at him, unimpressed. Steve let the moment hang there, waiting. Adding anything else would be too risky, too likely to offend him. Steve had, unfortunately, not gotten any better at interacting with omegas. The only tried and true way to stay on their good sides, he'd found, was to shut the fuck up.

"So citizen's arrest doesn't count?" Tony finally asked.

"You have to hand the person you arrested over to a judge or police officer. I can detain them at SHIELD," Steve answered, and he thought he sounded pretty reasonable.

Tony scoffed. "Why? What can you do that the police can't?"

"Waterboard them, obviously," Steve deadpanned, then winced when Peggy's elbow rammed into his kidney.

"We do not waterboard our prisoners. We are not the CIA," Peggy told Tony sternly.

Tony's mouth dropped open into a surprised little 'o.' Then he threw his head back and laughed, loud, and Steve saw Peggy's shoulders relax, just a little. Maybe this would work out, Steve thought, allowing himself a small smile.

[skyward-floored]

I’m sorry to be pestering you about this but now that it’s in my head it won’t leave

Oma and I were laughing about Power and Dragon Warriors and just… Peggy, before Power realized that Volga could turn into a Hylian he’d be doing so many things to try and figure this out 🤣

Warriors flicks his scarf a little to move it and Power immediately hones in to see if he’s hiding a tail under his scarf and tunic.

They’re sitting by the fire and Power tosses an extra log on with more gusto than he should so that embers fly everywhere to see if it affects Wars at all.

The stink eye he gives Impa every time she walks by. He won’t even talk to her, he’s so baffled by everything about her decisions. His Impa would never find a lizard attractive and abandon her kid.

The amount of times Power wanted to ask if Wars hatched out of an egg but held himself back.

Power watched a little salamander basking on a rock one time and just cringes and Warriors is like “uh u good bro”

When Volga does finally show up and Power gets all the relief in the world at learning who he is, he just subtly trails the guy all over camp because how is he a dragon?? He uses transformation magic too??? But Link’s magic doesn’t change his anatomy, it just fools others into seeing something that isn’t there!

Power’s way too polite to ever specifically ask anyone, but he’ll just stand in dark corners and blend into the shadows and observe so he can figure out what the frick is going on. Warriors thinks he’s being really weird.

Wars: Uh… Zelda. That new Hero…

Artemis: Yes?

Power, in the dark, red eyes glowing: 👀

Wars: Idk man. He’s kind of weird.

Power, internally: Everyone here is insane

My Mom walked in right as I was reading this and wanted to know why I was laughing and I couldn't just tell her without explaining twenty different things so I was like "you know, the... the internet..."

anyway suffice to say that I was dying reading this YOU'RE NOT BOTHERING ME AT ALL DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT THIS IS SO FUNNYYYY HBSFDJHBHBH

The thing is, like, some of that stuff wouldn't bother Warriors. Like he is moderately fireproof, and sometimes he does sun himself, so like... not super obvious dragon things. but enough to drive Power even more insane. Thank goodness he wasn't there during the steak thing LOL

I also think Volga would know full well that this weird kid is stalking him (can probably scent him or something) so at some point he wanders off somewhere more private, then whirls around and is like "is there something you need, Sheikah child??"

and Power Link, being caught in the act, is a little flustered and just blurts something out like "HOW ARE YOU A DRAGON BUT ALSO NOT"

[4rtificialfolio]

It’s complicated, my darling - The Prologue

“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”

Parings: Nick folio X OFC

Word count: 1.4K

Chapter Warnings: brief hinting at death, explicit language

Series master list

(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)

Ada

May 19th 1941

New York City, USA

8:23 am

Dear Diary,

Spring is coming any day now, the chill has died off and flowers are beginning to bloom, but I’ll say the air here in America feels a bit thicker when you’re not by the sea. Oh, I miss the seaside, Dad says they closed the beaches back in Brighton last year after Dunkirk, it was too dangerous to keep them open. It’s a shame, our Peggy loved the beach. We used to buy her a 99 and take a walk down the pier watching the seagulls nick a chip out of an unsuspecting victim’s hand. This one time, Peggy laughed so hard she dropped her ice cream and made me and the old man march back down the pier to buy her a new one, just to do the walk up the pier all over again. I would give anything to see her smile again but for now, it’s back to business aye? 

Speaking of business, my dick of a boss, John, back in England assigned me a new mission yesterday. Something about money being stolen from one of the precincts in the city? I'm not sure, I haven’t gotten all the details yet but I guess I’ll find out more in today’s briefing at the head office. 

Anyway, must be off. My train into the city should be here any minute now and God knows my grumpy sod of a boss will have my head if I’m late to another meeting. 

Talk soon.

__________________

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you mind if I sit here? All the other seats are taken”

You avert your eyes from the book you’ve been engrossed in for the past 10 minutes; “The So Blue Marble” by Dorothy B. Hughes, a truly riveting thriller novel. Bookmarking your page, your gaze meets the handsome young chap standing before you.

“Oh yes of course, please, sit down” He’s a rather handsome fellow, clean-shaven with his hair slicked with a side part, perfectly framing his chiselled jaw. Heat flushes across your cheeks and you can’t help but feel a little flustered as he takes a seat in front of you.

“Thank you, Ma’am” He extends his arm for a handshake.

“Please, call me Ada”

“A pleasure, Ada” You can’t help but notice his peculiar accent, it appears to be a southern accent of sorts but you can’t quite place it.

“Is that a southern accent I hear- oh sorry, I didn’t ask your name?”

“Ah no, Maryland although I do get that a lot, and no worries. The name’s Nick but everyone calls me Folio” You tilt your head ever so slightly at the nickname, wondering how that came to be. As if he already knew your next question, he smiles.

“My surname Is Folio, there’s another Nick amongst my friends so over time I just became Folio”

“Aah makes sense. Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Folio” You flash a smile, trying your best not to blush too hard.

“Judging by your accent, you’re from England I assume? What brings you to America, New York City at that?”. It’s the dreaded question you always fear to answer. Although you’re trained to lie, to be deceitful, you can’t help but feel a little guilty each time you respond to that question. It’s not easy to live your life pretending to be someone you’re not, half of the time you’re not even sure what’s real anymore; but that’s the job. Everyone is doing what they can to help the war effort, you included and if that means putting up a facade each day, then so be it.

“My family evacuated from England, we would’ve gone to Canada but my brother is deployed here in the States” You feel your heart drop to your stomach. This isn’t a complete lie; your mother and youngest sister, Mary and Agnes, did evacuate from England, but the ship carrying them to Canada took a devastating blow and ultimately sunk; the total casualties are still unknown. No one knows the whereabouts of your brother, Dennis. You received a telegram in July last year to notify that he was M.I.A when he didn’t return to base with his aircrew. So, no, it wasn’t a complete lie but you have to carry the sadness on your own.

“So, what will a gorgeous lady like you be doing in the city? ” He leans forward on the table, raising his left eyebrow. His words make your heartbeat speed up a million miles an hour. Of course, he doesn’t know the real reason you’re in the city but a little fun can’t hurt, right?

“I’m looking around for a job but most businesses are shut and I’m not first aid trained, so that’s pretty much any job out of the question” Another lie.

“Well, I can’t give you a job but If you ever want some company, please feel free to come down to the 13th precinct. I’d be happy to keep you company” His flirtatious manner doesn’t go unnoticed, nothing overly forward but enough to make your face burn up. A high-pitched whistle blows outside of the train and it isn’t until you see passengers standing up collecting their belongings from the overhead shelves that you realise you’ve reached your destination. You both walk off of the train onto the platform, pushing through the crowd of busybodies.

“Well I must be going, I’ve got some job interviews lined up today. It was lovely meeting you, Folio”

“You too, Ada. Good luck with the interviews, I’m sure you’ll find something soon”. Folio, once again, extends his arm for a handshake. Saying your goodbyes, you make your way along the path towards the north exit gate but your attention is averted as you hear that familiar, not-so-southern, voice.

“I hope you take me up on that offer, Ada!”. He bellows. Turning on your heels, you chuckle thinking about the gorgeously mysterious man you just met.

__________________

“Ah right on time Chapman, makes a change. I was beginning to wonder if that pretty face of yours knew how to tell the time” Alfred, your other male chauvinist pig of a boss, says as you walk into the meeting room.

“Morning Alfred, Sir” Oh how you’d love nothing more than to punch his disgusting, smug face, but you need this job and you need the money, especially if you want to get your dad and Peggy over here in the States.

“As John mentioned to you yesterday, he has assigned you a new mission. The higher-ups believe that someone in the 13th precinct is stealing money from their funding-”

“Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but did you say the 13th precinct?” This can’t be possible, surely not?

“For fuck sake Ada, maybe if you spent less time dressing like a whore and more time paying attention you would’ve heard me. Yes, I said the 13th precinct now shut up and listen” Anger rises through your body as he berates you in front of your team, but you take a deep breath, reminding yourself not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Sorry, sir. Please continue”

“As I was saying, you will be tracking one man. We believe he is acting alone, stealing money to put into an offshore account. You will be working at the precinct undercover as an accountant, you will need to keep track of all the money that goes in and out of their accounts. You’ll be given a written brief with more details. Make sure to read it thoroughly after the meeting ends, if that’s even possible for that empty fucking head of yours. We will go over the target’s name and description so everyone is aware of exactly who the suspect is”. Annie, Alfred’s assistant, hands out copies of the brief around the table.

Flipping over the first page, which details the goal of the mission, you see the name of the suspect.

“Fuck” Is all you can mutter out under your breath as you stare at the page, mouth agape in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” There’s no denying the name and image that’s staring right back at you. Is this a sick joke? A punishment for leaving your family behind?

“Billy, can you please read out the suspect’s name and character description” A part of you still hopes that you’re imagining what you’re seeing in front of you.

“Nick Folio, sir”

There’s no such thing as fate, but the universe has a funny way of deciding it for you.

________

AN: i genuinely loved writing this first chapter. I hope you guys will love this story as much as me, please let me know your thoughts! also please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for each chapter :)

reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts anonymously (no fic requests)

[literaryavenger]

Captain America: Civil War - 2

Summary: After Peggy's funeral, Steve, Sam and you go to Bucharest to track down Bucky before the FBI kills him, or at least tries to.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Here's part two of Civil War and the first look into a Bucky x Reader relationship! That's my goal, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It’s been a sad few days for Steve, he’s been crying a lot after the news that Peggy died.

You and Sam offered to go with him to the funeral so now you’re both sitting in the first row as Steve and five other guys carry the coffin.

“And now, I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words.” the priest says and Steve’s old neighbor Agent 13, steps up to the podium.

Your eyes widen a little in shock and elbow Sam while looking at her, then Sam nudges Steve and nods to her.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of SHIELD… but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” Sharon starts the eulogy and you look at Steve who's just as surprised to see her. “She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.”

She looks directly at Steve before continuing. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move… it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say ‘No. You move.’.”

Her words hit you deep, and you’re sure they hit Steve deep, too.

Peggy was clearly a very smart woman, and the fact that she helped found SHIELD and was such a badass made her your inspiration when you were a trainee and ever since you became an agent. Sharon’s words just made you more and more sure that not signing the Accords is the right thing to do.

-

After the funeral Steve asks you and Sam for a moment alone, so you hug him before letting him have some peace, making your way to the hotel you’re all staying at with Sam.

You’re in the hotel bar when the news comes on with the bombing in Vienna. You and Sam exchange a worried glance and set out to find Steve right away.

You find him near the elevators with Sharon just as the elevator arrives.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Sharon says and as Steve answers “Sure” you get close to them.

“Steve.” you grab his attention.

“There’s something you gotta see.” Sam finishes.

We all go up to Sharon’s hotel room to turn on the news that’s all about the UN bombing in Vienna and how the culprit is believed to be James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier HYDRA asset and formerly known as Sergeant Barnes, Steve’s best friend.

They talk about the death of King T’Chaka and you look at Steve who seems as concerned as you are as you quietly say. “That’s not good.” And he agrees with a nod.

“I have to go to work.” Sharon says and you all know what has to be done.

-

Sam, Steve and you flew to Vienna with Sharon and now you and Sam are in a coffee shop waiting for Steve while he talks to Natasha.

“How can you eat at a time like this?!” you whisper shout to Sam, annoyed.

“What am I supposed to do, starve?” He answers and you roll your eyes but before you can say anything back, Steve steps next to him.

“She tell you to stay out of it?” you ask him, knowing Natasha pretty well.

“Might have a point.” Sam comments casually.

“He'd do it for me.” Steve says back.

“1945, maybe.” Sam says and you roll your eyes and try to be a little more sensitive than Sam.

“I just want to make sure we consider all our options.” you gently say, but Sam cuts in.

“Yeah, the people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at us.” He says and can’t really fight him on that, he’s not wrong.

Sharon appears next to Steve and starts talking quietly without looking at any of us.

“Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter soldier goes to their gym. Most of it is noise. Except for this.” She slides Steve a file. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that's all the head start you're gonna get.”

“Thank you.” Steve says as he takes the file.

“And you're gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” she says and leaves as the three of you exchange a worried glance. Without wasting any time, you make your way out of the coffee shop and to the airport, destination: Bucharest.

-

You get to the right address and go separate ways. Sam gets to the roof of the building that Steve enters to look for Barnes and you go to the roof of the other building, where you have an eye on both Sam and, thanks to the scope on your rifle, you can see Steve even through the covered windows.

You see Steve enter the small apartment and look around, then he goes to the kitchen and picks up what looks like a notebook and opens it. Then you hear Sam’s voice through the comms.

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south.” You notice movement behind Steve as Sam talks.

“Understood.” Steve says as you see Barnes has entered the apartment.

“Steve, turn around.” You tell him through the comms and he slowly does.

“Do you know me?” You can hear Steve ask, but can’t hear Bucky’s response because he's talking too quietly.

“They've set the perimeter.” Sam says, but you’re still focused on Bucky inside the building.

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be.” You hear Steve say, “But you're lying.” You can see Bucky’s lips moving, but at this angle you can’t really read his lips.

“They're entering the building.” Sam says and you finally take your attention away from the apartment and look around the building as you hear Steve talk.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive.”

“Sam, they’re on the roof.” You say through the comms.

“She’s right, I'm compromised.” He says.

“This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck.” Steve says.

“5 seconds.” Sam says in your ear.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?” Steve keeps trying to get through to Bucky.

“3 seconds!” You say as you see them about to breach the apartment.

“Yes, you do!” Steve almost yells before you hear Sam yelling in your ear.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” you see a grenade crash through the window. Bucky kicks it to Steve, and he smothers it with his shield.

You see Bucky shielding himself with the mattress against an attack from the window, then he blocks the door with a table as cops swing in on cables. Steve pulls the rug from under a policeman, sending him flying. Bucky slams another policeman into the wall.

“Buck, stop! You're gonna kill someone.” you hear Steve say before Bucky slams him down and punches a hole in the floor right next to his face.

You faintly hear him say, “I'm not gonna kill anyone.” Before he pulls something out the floor, throws it out the building and it lands near you.

You’re about to go see what’s in it but are distracted by Bucky and Steve hiding behind the shield together before Bucky shoves Steve into a cop and you have to stop yourself from laughing. 

Bucky holds up his metal hand and repels bullets, then slams a cop into some shelves. He picks up a large cement brick and slams it into a cop and you can see Steve fighting another cop on the balcony.

You see Bucky punch through the wall beside the door. He steps into the hallway and you lose sight of him, a second later Steve steps into the hallway and you lose him too.

“You have a visual, Sam?” You ask through the comms and he answers with a simple ‘No’.

You hear Steve say “Come on, man.” and hear his grunting as he fights.

After a minute you hear Steve say “Y/N, he’s coming your way.” and you frown.

“What do you mean he’s-” Before you can answer you can see Bucky jumping out a balcony and you let out a quiet “Holy shit.” that makes Steve groan and Sam snicker.

Bucky lands not too far away from you and, before he can get to his backpack, you put yourself in front of him so he can’t get to it.

“Hello, soldier.” you say in a teasing and vaguely flirting tone, but he simply looks at you for half a second before throwing a punch that you avoid and quickly say “Not a talker. Got it.” Before throwing a punch of your own that he easily stops, holding your arm as he sweeps your legs and in a second you’re on the ground.

Bucky picks up his backpack and runs, but a big man all dressed in black, a full face mask with pointed ears, slams into him and knocks him down. He extends his fingers and sharp claws pop out and he attacks Bucky with sweeping kicks and slashes.

Bucky fights back but is kicked into a wall, the figure swipes his claws and spins gracefully. Bucky narrowly avoids being slashed, holding up a metal bar to protect himself.

You get up and get closer to them to try and help Bucky. You kick the man off of him and protect Bucky by standing in front of him in a fighting stance.

“Bad kitty.” you tell him and can hear Steve and Sam simultaneously say “Seriously, Y/N?”

“Sam, southwest rooftop.” you hear Steve say as the cat man lunges at you. 

“Who the hell's the other guy?” Sam asks.

“About to find out.” Steve answers while you try your best to not get killed by the overgrown cat you’re fighting at the moment. The man manages to slam you into a wall and lunges at Bucky with his claws, but Bucky grabs his wrists.

You’re about to help but a soldier fires a machine gun from a chopper, the ammo bounces off the man’s armored suit who’s now on top of Bucky, but you’re forced to hide to avoid the bullets.

You hear Steve call for Sam’s help and Sam answers with a “Got him.” before he flies down and shoves the chopper off course, then swoops towards street level.

Bucky breaks free from his attacker, slings his bag on his back, runs and jumps down a level, and the other man slides down the wall using his claws for traction. Bucky lands at street level and the chase continues. Steve follows and lands rolling along the ground. 

You watch them from the edge of the roof and sigh. “Okay, I can’t do that.” You look up in search of Sam. “Sam, I need a ride.”

“I got you.” He says as he swoops down and picks you up, taking flight again to follow the others while you hang on to him for dear life.

Gunfire from the chopper tears up the sidewalk, Bucky jumps down through an opening, lands in an underpass and he runs through the traffic. Cat Suit and Steve drop down and chase after Bucky as a Special Forces Vehicle pursues all of them.

You see Steve leap onto the vehicle and splinter the windshield and, when the driver stops, Steve yanks him from the vehicle and kicks the windshield out, then drives off.

Bucky runs over the top of a speeding car, outpacing it and Cat Suit is a few cars behind, keeping pace with him. Then he leaps on the back of the 4x4 that Steve's driving and Steve swerves from side to side, trying to throw him off.

“Sam, I can't shake this guy.” He says into the comms.

“We’re right behind you.” Sam says as you fly behind him.

Several police cars join the chase and you see Steve side-swipe another car and drive on.

Bucky leaps over a barrier and Steve drives through it, then you can see Bucky grab the handlebar of an incoming motorcycle and spin the bike around in mid air, throwing the rider off as he gets on the bike himself, riding away and sending cars careering out of the way. 

Steve keeps on Bucky's tail with Cat Suit holding onto the back of his car. They all rocket through another underpass and Sam flies into the underpass. 

Cat Suit leaps off the front of Steve’s car onto Bucky's motorbike and Bucky flings him over his head and the bike leans down on its side. Bucky kicks his assailant away, straightens up and rides on.

Cat Suit catches a ride on one of Sam’s legs and Sam tries to kick him away. Bucky throws a sticky bomb and blows up the roof at the end of the underpass, bringing down tons of rubble. 

Sam tells you to hang on and you can feel his grip tighten on you as he stops and throws the Cat Suit man into the rubble. He throws Bucky off the motorcycle as Steve swerves the car through the rubble and leaps out, running as Bucky and the Cat roll on the ground.

When they stop the Cat is on Bucky right away but Steve jumps on him and pulls him off Bucky.

Steve stands up, facing the sleek and muscular overgrown black cat as the police arrive and surround you all, guns aimed. War Machine leaps down from above and raises both his suit hands, guns drawn.

“Stand down, now.” Rhodey says, aiming at Bucky and Steve who are standing side by side and at the Cat Suit Guy. Steve puts his shield on his back again as Rhodey continues. “Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal.” 

Police move in and force Bucky to his knees. The Cat raises his hands as a cop moves Steve's arms behind his back and you and Sam are also handcuffed and brought closer to the others by two police men. The cat retracts his claws and pulls off his mask revealing his face and you’re all shocked to see it’s King T'Challa. 

“Your highness.” Rhodey says as Bucky's hauled flat on the ground and getting handcuffed.

-

You all get arrested, forced to change out of our suits and gears and taken to Berlin. Bucky is restrained inside a glass-walled pod surrounded by armed guards.

In an SUV sits T’Challa on front, then you, then Steve and last Sam. You’re quietly going through traffic until Sam very respectfully breaks the silence. “So, you like cats?”

“Sam.” Steve warns him while you snort in amusement, looking out the window to avoid what you’re sure will be a disappointed glare from Steve. 

“What?” Sam continues. “Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?”

“Your suit…” Steve ignores Sam and addresses T’Challa. “Is it Vibranium?”

“The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior.” T’Challa finally speaks up. “And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Oh, no. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king... how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

The silence that follows is deafening, as none of you know or want to give an answer to that, and you’re sure T’Challa doesn’t expect one.

“Sorry about King T’Chaka…” You say quietly after a moment.

“Don’t worry, miss Y/LN. He will be vindicated.” He answers back without missing a beat.

You look back at Steve and Sam and they both look as worried as you feel.

This is not going to end well, is it?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

In Love, in War Pt. 5 | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary | She struggles to come to terms with the recent development and her move back home to Birmingham. Everything reminds her of Thomas but she's left him behind in France. She's expected to marry her "dead" fiance but doesn't she have a choice?

Warnings | Death, Gore, Blood; less Thomas Shelby plot in this installment but just stay tuned :)

Sea Fever- Peggy Lee 🎶

Waiting Room- Phoebe Bridgers 🎵

How to disappear- Lana Del Rey 🎶

Word count: 2490k

Not proof read- my b, folks

She collapsed into the mud on her knees, the soldier bent over to help her up.

“I need help over here!” He yelled at someone but she didn’t see. She watched as the trucks drove far away into the Somme. People came to pick her up and she fell limp in their arms. 

“Take her to the infirmary!” One man yelled, noises passed like light over her body. They carried her quickly to the infirmary and laid her down on an empty bed. The nurse from before hurried over.

“Oh! What happened?” She asked frantically while checking her pulse. She cried weakly, unable to say anything. 

“She collapsed by the security gate.” One of the soldiers said before stepping away.

“I told her she shouldn’t have gone.” The nurse shook her head and called for water. Someone came running with a glass of water and held it to her lips, helping her drink it slowly. 

“Slowly now.” The nurse reminded her. 

“How’s Francis?” She struggled over the water sliding down her tongue. 

“He’s the same as when you left him.” The nurse sighed and brought her an aspirin. “Take this.” 

She swallowed the chalky pill and sat back against the pillows on the cot. She glanced over at Thomas’ old bed. 

“Did you catch him?” The nurse asked beneath her breath. 

“No,” she whispered. “They were too far gone.” 

“I’m sorry.” The nurse lowered her eyes. When she turned, she waved the men off.

“Thank you, she’ll be ok here.” She shooed the soldiers from the tent and they dipped their caps, leaving together. 

When the nurse came back, she placed a soft hand against her cheek and sighed. 

“Get some sleep. I’ll watch your Francis.” 

She nodded sleepily, overwhelmingly exhausted, and closed her eyes against the afternoon light. When she closed her eyes, she thought of Thomas waiting all alone by the trucks. His uniform was still full of holes and trench mud. He waited, leaning up against the cool metal siding of the truck and ignored the anxious chatter from the men around him. He scrunched his nose and fought back a few stubborn tears. 

Why should she come, anyway? They weren’t together in that sense of the word, just lovers. A fling. And at the end of the day, he was just a Small Heath boy and she was who she was. He thought she was different, kinder. Did she just use him for sex knowing he would die at some point soon? No, she didn’t seem like the type. There was something in her eyes when he kissed her, something that saw him for who he was. Then why didn’t she come?

The call came to get into the trucks, and he climbed in like the others. He swiped a cigarette from a person’s pocket and lit it. His cheeks caved in as he sucked on the cigarette, his fingers pulled it away from his mouth as he exhaled. When he closed his eyes, he could just make out her body beneath him, and call forth the feelings he’d felt when he was inside her. He loved her, he thought. Maybe he loved her. 

Her dreams were plagued by visions of blood. Francis lay screaming in his grave, buried alive, and Thomas choked on his own blood, shot in the head, between his beautiful blue eyes. When she awoke, it was nighttime and the air had fallen into a bitter cold chill. She swept her legs over the side of the cot and stood. She passed the new nurse on duty who gave her a polite, concerned smile. She pushed back the curtain into Francis’ partition and sat by his bed. He’d moved a little in his sleep, his face turned away from her. She wet a cloth in a bowl of water by the bed and wiped it across his forehead, cleaning the dried blood from his skin. Francis stirred beneath the cloth, mumbling in his sleep. His eyes flickered open and widened. He said her name softly. 

“It’s really you.” He mumbled weakly and she nodded. 

“We all thought you were dead.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I’m alive.” 

“Yes. Yes you are.” 

She couldn’t tell if the tears in her eyes were from disappointment or love. She put her hand against his head and cried softly. 

They were sent home together and Francis was moved to a hospital in London. Her discharge was ascribed to ‘mental fatigue’ and was told to rest and recover. The day she left, she met Francis at the infirmary where the covered red cross truck idled. He was tucked into a stretcher inside the bed of the truck. A soldier helped her up over the side of the truck and she sat down on one of the long benches. Francis reached out his hand and she took it. 

“We’re going home, Francis.” She smiled down at him. 

“I love you, my darling.” He told her and she nodded awkwardly. 

“I know.” 

She pulled her jacket closer around her as she watched the medical camp grow farther and farther away. They drove to the coast and were moved onto a medical ship, taking patients back to England. They secured Francis to a metal bed inside the belly of the boat. She stayed in the old library onboard, used now to store extra patients. There was still a small section of room with books and she sat by the window to write. 

Francis had come back to her from the dead, in love with her. She’d loved him once but she couldn’t bring herself to love him the same way she once did. She’d mourned him. He was still in some way, dead to her. She’d missed his kindness and his sweet voice but she missed the way Thomas talked and the way he held himself, like he knew exactly what he was doing. But more than anything, she just felt confused. Francis had gotten separated from his unit and lost his dog-tag. Someone must have taken it, trying to return it to a British field office and died with the dog tag in his pocket. He didn’t have a way of writing or mailing letters back home, so they’d all believed that he was dead. There was a casket in his family’s mausoleum with his name scribed into the silver surface, thinking about it made her shiver. 

She took out a piece of writing paper and rested her palm against the soft surface, writing:

Dear Thomas,

       I hope this letter finds you alive and as well as can be expected. I have not forgiven myself for how we parted. I hope you know I ran to you, I tried to get to the trucks and say goodbye to you. You must believe me that I wanted to say goodbye, because I did. Something came up in the hospital tent, something which prevented me from going to you. I’m so sorry, Thomas. I am on my way back to London now. They sent me home, and you were right, I left as soon as I could. I’ll miss you, I do miss you. Really, I miss you enormously though I blush to say it because I hardly know you. Maybe we don’t need to know each other to say these things because they still ring just as true. I’m including my home address in Birmingham. I don’t expect you to write but I will. I am thinking of you always. 

With love

your nurse

P.s Thomas, I don’t regret what we did. I hope you know that. It was wonderful. Come back, Thomas, so we can share more moments together. Please, Shelby. 

She sealed the envelope and stuffed it into the pocket sewn into the lining of her traveling coat. She took the stairs back down below deck and found Francis asleep on his cot. He was still in pain from his injuries and she worried that there may still be something wrong that the doctor in the camp didn’t see. Francis would be taken straight to the London Hospital whereas, she would be driven back to Birmingham. Their family back home had received the news and she wondered how they took it, knowing that their golden boy was still alive. She smoothed blonde curls from Francis’ face and kissed his brow, warm and soft like a newborn. When she touched Francis’ skin, she thought of Thomas’ freckles, scattered on the backs of his shoulders like sunspots. She imagined his taut white skin, so similar to china figures on service dishes. His eyes a bright cerulean blue that reminded her of a churning ocean or shallow water in an olympic pool. Francis snored softly in his sleep. 

A medic knocked briefly and announced that they had docked in port. Two more medics arrived down the slender hallways and unbuckled the belts restraining Francis’ cot to the ship. He rubbed his eyes weakly and smiled. 

“Are we here?” He asked in a baited voice that broke her heart. 

“We’re in London, Mr. Gild.” One of the medics answered excitedly. They carried him to the ramp door and descended the white-washed gangpipe. Her heels slipped briefly and she held tightly onto the guardrail. They were escorted to a waiting ambulance and Francis paled slightly. 

“God, I hate doctors.” He closed his eyes, fighting to smile as she took his hand affectionately. 

“You’ve done the hardest part, now they’re just going to help you get better.” She pushed down memories of his organs hanging out, slipping in the doctor’s hands. 

“The worst is over.” He nodded and turned his head to look at her, he furrowed his blonde brow. “Where’s your ring, my darling?” He pointed to her naked ring finger. 

“I left it at home. We weren’t allowed to wear rings in the service.” She answered quickly, souring the conversation and he nodded slowly. 

“Right, of course. I’m sorry, I know you thought I was dead and all.” He tried to joke but grimaced as his stomach tensed. 

“Shhhh, it's ok.” She quieted him and looked out the back windows upon London.

They unloaded him carefully and took him immediately into the building. He waved goodbye from the stretcher and she smiled reassuringly.  

“Tell mother I’m swell!” He called and she gave a thumbs up. 

“I’ll see you soon!” She waved goodbye and watched the hospital doors slam behind the last attendant. She took her luggage from the mix and hailed a black taxi sailing past. The attendants behind her stacked a large military trunk onto the hot pavement, Francis’ name written in large cursive letters across the top hatch. She looked away and climbed into the taxi.

Everything in Birmingham reminded her of Thomas. The way the smoke billowed out of the stacks, the noise and clatter of homemade toys against bricks. She imagined him there as a child or as a teenager, picking fights and winning them. She imagined him as a sweet child, the one who would be too shy to kiss the girl he fancied. The one that came home to the dinner bell and went to mass with his family on Sundays. He worked hard, dropped out of school, and got a job at the docks or in a coal-burning factory. He lost his virginity in the side-ally, trying to beat curfew and finished too fast. The girls he liked were hard-workers, funny, and crude, half-gypsy like him. He was a one-girl kind of guy and thought that he would marry Greta because she had let him fuck her. He cried when she died, and visited her grave in the back cemetery of the church to drape rosieres over her headstone. He was kind, smart, and deliberate. He was a horse, he was a stallion, he was a beautiful boy. 

The Small Heath neighborhood fell away as she approached Claremont. Her father’s house bordered the sidewalk with a large iron-gate before the footpath. She straightened her hat and pulled on her white leather gloves as the driver set her belongings down on the sidewalk. When she stepped out of the car, the wind blew to meet her, pushing open the gate and welcoming her home. No children played outside and the skies were free from smoke, just blue and open. She paid the driver and released a trembling breath. She’d only been gone for a little over two months and already she felt a perfect stranger. Her father burst through the door and bounded down the steps to the gate. 

“My girl!” He pulled her into his heavy embrace and took her suitcase. 

“Wait till your mother sees you. She’s been worried sick.” He shooed her inside. Her mother nearly fell down the stairs inside the house, running to kiss her. 

“Oh, my dear! You must be famished! This was quite a journey.” Her mother pouted and she smiled politely. 

“It's just all been such a big shock lately.” 

“Yes, of course.” Her father put a hand on his large stomach. 

“His parents know and I’m sure they’re just as happy as we are.” Her mother added. “You must be so happy! Now we can finally have the wedding!” She squealed like a child, clasping her hands together. 

“You’d make a beautiful bride, my girl,” her father chuckled. 

“Lovely enough to make the war worth it, right dear?” Her mother squeezed her father’s arm like newlyweds and she fought to keep a straight face. Her stomach boiled with anxiety, her grip tighter on the handle of the suitcase. 

“My, I just got back and we’re already discussing the wedding party!” She laughed uncomfortably. “I better get changed.” 

Once in her bedroom, she closed and locked the door. For the first time in weeks, she was inside an actual room, her room (her childhood room). Everything was exactly the same as how she’d left it. The blush pink walls with white crown molding. Gilded mirrors and a canopy bed with pink silk drapery. She laughed to think what Thomas would have to say about her room. The flounce and frills, as if she hadn’t been living in mud for weeks. The room smelled like fresh linen, free from blood and other fluids. Thomas would laugh if he saw it, and suddenly, she realized exactly how ridiculous it was to have such a room. It felt fake to be alive in a room like this after she’d seen the foxholes and bodies at the Somme. It felt sacreligious. Isn’t this the world she would want? The world she would have with Francis? Guilt felt sour on her tongue. Could she live without this, I mean, hadn’t she already? How could she deny Francis? She had to be realistic. He was her fiance before he was supposed to be dead, and technically, he still was. What had changed? She had. 

That and the fact that Thomas Shelby existed.

........

End of pt. 5 :)

[quietlyimplode]

Clint with someone you like.

„Am I really enough?“

“Am I really enough?“

Steve holds the question.

“Ya know, I always thought that with Peggy. I didn’t think I was. Even though this body is mine, it didn’t always look like this, and she was one of the only people that knew me, before and after the changes.”

He takes a large swig of his drink, prompting Clint to the same.

The breeze doesn’t seem to affect either of them as they watch the party go on inside.

Natasha looks beautiful in her long blue dress. Her hair braided in a way that frames her face.

“You’re enough because she thinks your enough,” Steve finishes, “she’s never asked you to be anyone else but you, right?”

Clint nods.

The feeling of inadequacy when she talks to billionaires, to those who could offer more. To people; not even men, who could perhaps love her better.

“I just hope that she’s not stuck with me, because she feels…”

Steve holds his hands up.

“Nah, no. That’s - you’re not allowed to put feelings in her mouth. Okay? You’re not allowed to say what, and how she feels - or draw conclusions from it. Okay?”

Clint is taken aback at the surprisingly wise words.

Steve’s right.

Pepper wanders over to them, a tray of drinks in hand.

Taking it off her, she smiles at Clint.

“Nat was asking about you, go find her?”

Clint nods, looking into the dining hall and finding her straight away.

Steve’s right.

Sometimes he may not feel like enough, but that’s not for him to decide.

(Thanks friend, I liked this one too - something very different and thought provoking!! For me anyway <3)

[aardvaark]

Who's your favorite Leverage side character? Like Tara, Hurley, Quinn, etc.

hi! ooh its hard to pick, i really like how leverage often gives a fair amount of personality to even just single-episode characters, let alone recurring ones. i love tara, love some of their villains-turned-kinda-allies like sterling & cha0s, etc.

however, maggie is probably my overall favourite. well, more accurately, parker is my favourite main character and her interactions with maggie are very sweet & funny, and therefore that makes me like maggie even more lol. it’s sweet how parker immediately becomes sort of attached to maggie when they meet properly in the second david job. see the following Q&A from john roger’s blog post about the zanzibar marketplace job:

aw parker <3

but anyway, maggie is great just in general, too! i like how she can spot the con stuff that no one else in the leverageverse seems to see. she notices the button camera, mentions that "the receptionist" (parker) at the plane hangar disappeared, recognises sophie & doesn’t just brush it off when sophie pretends to be someone else, hears the difference in nate’s normal speaking vs talking into comms, etc. she’s very perceptive probably bc her whole job is spotting inconsistencies - seeing the little details that mean an art piece is a forgery.

i like to imagine that the leverage team runs into her about once every year or two, some way or another. like "ah no maggie got kidnapped again ://" or "why are YOU at this art auction??" etc. and i think parker, hardison & eliot would occasionally check in on her post-nate & sophie’s exit. she’d get christmas cards, you know? sometimes the team is in town and maggie knows this because parker has inexplicably appeared in her living room in the dead of night. etc. about 99% of the time, maggie lives a pretty normal life, and then occasionally she’s watching tv and eliot is on the news holding a puppy or hardison is advertising some children’s toy and she just has to exist with that knowledge lol.

recently i’ve also been thinking about peggy & hurley a bit too. in the girls/boys night out jobs, they met and it seemed like they might get together. and in redemption, parker has mentioned that peggy and hurley are still her friends. we’ve also seen that hurley has become part of leverage international. it would be cool if peggy & hurley were still together, and at some point peggy has had to learn a bit more about her friend alice white and what her bf/husband does for work! i mean, even if peggy & hurley are not together, i kinda wanna know what parker’s friendship with peggy is like now! it’s been over a decade, does she know what alice/parker does? or does parker like keeping that part of her life, her alice identity, somewhat separate? plus not knowing would probably help prevent endangering peggy. idk! thoughts anyone??

thank you for the ask!!

[booksandabeer]

Hey,

I love your blog and I love how much work you put in when someone ask you to recommend fics for them, you’re truly beyond AMAZING! Just getting that out of the way.

And now, can you please tell me your favourite underrated stucky fics. I know this might be too big of an ask because there are SO MANY out there, so just tell me a few if you don’t mind.

Thank you so much ❤️

Hello Stranger!

Thank you for the ask and your very kind words! ❤ It's so nice to hear that people like my rec posts because they really do take a surprisingly large amount of time to put together. Anyway, I'm not complaining & this is a lot of fun for me, so on to the recs!

I struggled a bit with how to define "underrated" and I think everybody has their own ideas of what exactly that means. Also, the Stucky ship has been around for more than a decade (even longer if you count the comics), so creative output and reader interest will fluctuate and ultimately decline over time. A Stucky fic posted after 2019--no matter how insanely good it is--will never do the numbers it would have done in the Golden Age of 2014-2018. So, for the purpose of this list, a fic written in 2016 with 15K hits or less does qualify as underrated, while a fic posted in 2021 with 10-15K would not.

Also, as always, this list is by no means an exhaustive one.

the wrote and the writ by declanlynchsrack | G, 10K

Author's summary: Bucky’s crying before he’s off the boat and he’s the least surprised out of anyone to realize it.

He’s always been a softie, a leaky faucet, and the war hasn’t changed that, so he doesn’t know why the sob that smacks him startles him bad enough that he grips the strap of his bag doubly hard, ready to swing it around like a battering ram, ready to find that cloying, invisible enemy. He’s not being ambushed, on his belly in the muck and camellias, cypress hanging low, moonlight casting an eerie smile upon Lake Como like it’s enjoying the hell out of muffled gunshots and the wet grunt of lifeblood spattering onto the undergrowth.

That’s done. He’s safe.

An AU in which Bucky--minus one arm--comes back from the war and Steve never got to go, and never became Captain America. A scrappy little story that is at once full of emotion and yet completely unsentimental. This story socked me on the jaw, tackled me to the ground, and then sat on me while twisting, twisting, twisting my arm behind my back. It also has one of my favorite descriptions of the SteveBucky dynamic I've ever read: "They’re all roughed up, the two of em, a pair of old marble statues weathered by time and harsh touches, but they know each other’s chinks and foibles and can side-step them with grace while still treating the other about as delicately as they’d handle a sack of potatoes." !!! If you prefer, you can also listen to it here: [Podfic] the wrote and the writ by quietnight

Hollywoodland by romanticalgirl | E, 69K

Author's summary: In 1930s Hollywood, the world is run on the studio system. Stars are told who to date, what to wear, what to say, and how to look pretty doing it. The only way you can really do what you want is if you don't get caught.

Steve's dating Peggy, which works out because she's married to Sam, even though it's not legal. But it's the perfect cover for the fact that Steve's gay. He's managing just fine skirting the system to find companionship, but then he meets James Barnes and life gets a lot more complicated.

If you know anything about me and my love for Golden Age Hollywood, then you won't be surprised that this pushes all of my buttons. This is loosely inspired by the real life relationship of Cary Grant and Randolph Scott (the exact nature of which we will probably never know, but let's just say it was most likely not strictly platonic). Is the world the author created here entirely realistic? No--and it's not intended to be. While it is indeed rooted in many of the horrible realities that queer people and POC have faced in the past (and are still facing today), it's a slightly kinder version of it that allows for a hopeful, if not a strictly happy ending in the traditional sense. A sumptious story with gorgeous art.

make progress together by frankoceansmoonriver | E, 24K

Author's summary: He feels like Steve’s mistress. He feels hollowed out. He feels like a jammed gun still trying to go off. When he’s not with Steve he convinces himself he’s ruining Steve’s life, and though he tries, he’s too selfish to stop. When he’s with Steve, he’d fight God himself to keep it, this tangible perfection that makes him drunk and anchors him in ways he did not know existed.

Or, the one where they both survived the war, Bucky loves Steve now, has loved Steve since he was fifteen, and the year is 1945.

This is a story that I have reread many, many times because it is the perfect wish fulfillment fic for me. It's the slightly unrealistic, or one could also say: optimistic version of what I imagine would have happened had Steve and Bucky both survived the war. That's not to say that this fic doesn't have its very angsty moments, but ultimately, this is a story about love and hope triumphing in the face of adversity, and sometimes you just want to see good things happen to good people. I know some readers may find the formatting and the non-linear structure challenging, but this is a beautiful story and I really urge you all to give it a try!

I'll Light Your Way Home series by BeaArthurPendragon | M-E, 69K, 5 parts

Author's summary: Two lost Vietnam vets find each other in a Hell's Kitchen gay bar one hot September night. This is how they find their way home.

A pattern emerges! Can you tell I'm really into (No Powers) AUs set in the early to mid 20th century? Well, here's another one, but we're actually moving into second half of the century, specifically to 1969, for this one! Bea is quite possibly my favorite Stucky writer and I have recommended her stories many times to anybody who will listen to me. It's debatable whether or not she actually counts as "underrated", I guess, but it is my personal opinion that her fics should have ten times the kudos/comments/hits they do and that she deserves to be up there with the "big names". This story in particular just completely won over my heart with its gorgeous (but not ostentatious) writing, its confident and mature characterizations, and great eye for historical detail. I *cannot* recommend her fics enough. /unabashed fangirl moment over.

The Northern Lights by ThisChairIsMyHomeNow | M, 21K

Author's summary: “I can’t feel my face,” Steve shivers.

“I can’t feel my left arm,” Bucky says, deadpan. Steve barks out a laugh. It’s all white puffs of vapor in the chilly air.

“This the spot?”

“Nah,” Bucky pants, breath ragged from the long ascent up a mountain. “Almost there.”

A post-CW canon-divergent story that the author jokingly describes in their author's note as "gay superhero reluctantly gets therapy in the jungles of Wakanda, then goes on a covert road trip." And yes, maybe I wouldn't put it quite so flippantly myself, but it's not... untrue. And yet there is so much more depth to it. If you like a Bucky who takes back his life, his identity, and his future on his own terms, a Steve who isn't reduced to being his recovery prop but instead gets to shine in all his glorious, intense, stubborn Steve-ness, and a Sam & a Natasha who aren't just window dressing for the SteveandBucky-Show, this is for you! Cap Quartet Road Trip where all four members get their moment to shine--what are you waiting for?

Misplaced Pencils | T, 13K & and our words would take us 'round the world | T, 13K by Somanywords

Author's summary:

Steve and drawing throughout the years. Also Bucky.

&

Bucky is two years old when he learns to talk.

I've spent a good 30 minutes debating with myself which one of these two I should include here, and then I just threw up my hands and said "why not both? Both is good!" So here they are, two beautifully written mid-length full-arc (childhood to sometime past TWS, where they diverge from canon) fics that I love both equally. These are standalone stories and are not set in the same universe, but they do read and feel like companion pieces to each other because both stories are told through the lense of Steve and Bucky's respective artistic sensibilities and how they use their art as a framework to make sense of the world. Misplaced Pencils gives you artist Steve who, from a very young age on, has always tried to understand the world by taking it apart into its visual components & falling back on a fixed set of questions that help him to categorize and compartmentalize the people he encounters and the emotions he feels for them (just like he will later do in other areas of his life). Only that there is of course one person who's always refused to fit neatly into just one of his categories. and our worlds... on the other hand, gives you storyteller Bucky who's constantly talking, singing, writing. Who, in the end, can't help himself but narrate even his own fall and who is later delightfully affronted by his own narrative arc in a "if I had been the one in charge, I would've written it better!" way. Both of these stories are very dear to my heart and they deserve a million more hits.

+ Bonus!

Fics that definitely could/should be on this list but that I've recced before:

You are here by dharmashark

A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall by DisraeliGears

Prisoner One by ancientreader

As Time Goes By by Trouble_With_The_Snap

new topography series by brideofquiet

What I'm Looking For series by TessaBennet

Welcome Home, Son series by BeaArthurPendragon

I'm slowly working my way through my rec asks, so please be patient with me! Next up: Road Trip fics!

[fluffyllamas-23]

Omg omg omg hi I’ve read your fics omg I can’t believe you’re writing again!!!

If it’s not too much, could I request a sick and sneezy Bucky and any Steve of your choosing??

Thank you so much for the prompt!! It's definitely not too much to ask (and if you ever have any more ideas for Bucky I am happy to take them! I don't give Bucky nearly enough love, which is honestly a travesty) <3 <3 <3

Bookshop/Cafe AU where Bucky works in the bookshop part of the store and (post-serum) Steve works in the cafe part, and they’re cute boyfriends.

Steve was supposed to be off today, but he had all but jumped at the opportunity to cover for a coworker for no reason other than wanting to keep an eye on Bucky. They don’t work immediately together, but Steve works at the coffee shop within the bookstore that Bucky works at, which was how they met in the first place. 

Anyways, he knows how it sounds, picking up a shift solely so he can make sure Bucky is okay, but hear him out. He promises it’s not for anything nefarious. 

Bucky has been coming down with what’s shaping up to be an awful cold for the last day and a half or so. He’s still in that annoying phase of illness, where his body can’t quite figure out what it wants to do and is freaking out. He’s feeling way more rough than he usually does at this point of a cold, but he doesn’t really have many specific symptoms. 

His head is throbbing, and his throat feels really scratchy and raw (and it sounds like it, too), but other than that he’s just dragging. He wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for a year.

Steve had tried talking him into calling out since he’s not feeling well, but Bucky is nothing if not stubborn. He doesn’t want to take time off for this. It would feel ridiculous calling out for feeling vaguely unwell and not actively sick.  

So, Steve feels like it’s his duty to keep an eye on things. And honestly, picking up a shift to make sure everything is okay is far less weird than browsing the aisles of the bookstore for hours until his shift finishes.

*

Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes on him. He does his best to ignore it, but can’t stop himself from glancing over in his direction.  They make eye contact and Steve’s eyes widen slightly, and then his head immediately drops down. He goes back to wiping down the counter by the register. 

Bucky rolls his eyes and shakes his head, laughing lightly.  What a ridiculous man. 

He turns his attention back to stocking the shelves.  His boss had taken pity on him and wasn’t making him work in any customer-facing role (unless absolutely necessary) when she heard how gravelly and rough Bucky’s voice was when he got to work that morning. If they were less busy, his boss probably would have sent him home. She’s not in the business of torturing her employees. However, she’d already had three callouts, and she really does need Bucky there.  

She promises that Bucky can have all the time off he needs soon, though. 

Bucky clears his throat with a grimace. He really does need to track his boss down and see if he can go grab some tea at some point. That might help. 

As if she can sense his question, he spots her walking over to him from across the room.

“How’re you holding up?” She asks with a frown. “I’m sorry you have to be here.”

He waves her off, “it’s fine, promise.” He winces when he hears his own voice. It’s shot to hell, and he knows he’s close to losing it.

“Do you need anything?”

He nods his head towards the coffee shop, “would you mind if I go grab some tea? I’ll be quick.”

“Not at all. Why don’t you go ahead and take your fifteen now.”

He furrows his brows, “but I already took that earlier.”

“Oh, did you? I don’t remember,” she says, shooting him a look. “It’s fine, James. Go take another.”

He looks around the store, there are people everywhere. A line is forming at the front of the store, and he can’t help the pang of guilt in his chest. “Peggy, we’re so busy.”

“I know,” she says, “but I just feel bad I’m keeping you here when you’re not feeling well and you being here at all is helpful. Go get some tea, sit down, come back in fifteen.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” he relents, but it’s more so he doesn’t have to keep talking.  

He puts the last book back on the shelf and heads over to the coffee shop.

“Steve,” he croaks when he reaches the register. 

Steve winces, “God, you sound bad, honey.”

“I sound worse than I feel. Peggy told me to take another fifteen.”

“I would have sent you home,” Steve grumbles, casting an annoyed glance in the bookstore’s general direction. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, “stop. You know she can’t, and you know you’d still be here if it were you.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs, shifting his focus back to fussing over his boyfriend. “How do you feel other than your throat?”

He scratches at his nose, making a face at the prickle in his sinuses. “Eh…not great. Not awful. Hih…hih’tschiew! Snff! Snff! Sorry. Somewhere in the middle. I’m just so fucking tired. Could I get some tea? I don’t care what kind, surprise me.”

“Language,” Steve teases. He hands Bucky a napkin and then grabs a hot cup from the stack next to him. “Bless you. Want something with caffeine, then?”

Bucky turns away to blow his nose, and then he rubs at his chest with a sigh, “dunno…heart’s kind of racing. I’m not sure caffeine would be the best idea.”

Steve frowns. Bucky’s heart always races when he’s not feeling well, and even though he knows this is normal for him, he can’t help but worry. 

“Go sit down, I’ll bring you something.” 

*

Bucky makes it exactly two and a half more days before he has to admit defeat and whatever plague he’s caught decides it’s time to kick his ass. 

Peggy sends him home after his lunch break. She tells him not to worry and to take as much time off as he needs. 

He’s currently curled up in the blanket den on the couch that Steve insisted on building him, sniffling miserably into a tissue. This cold from hell has decided to take up residence in his head, and he’s less than thrilled. 

His head is throbbing with an intensity he hasn’t felt in a while. It’s in his skull, and sinuses, and his head feels like it’s packed with cement. He’s been sneezing pretty much nonstop since he woke up, which is definitely not helping with how hazy he’s feeling. The only bonus of feeling this bad is that he doesn’t feel as disgusting as he probably should. His throat is killing him too, it feels like someone’s shoved a white-hot branding iron down it, and his voice is nearly gone at this point. 

“hhh…hihh’isschh! isshh! Isschhh! Snff! Guh…this is so anndoyi’gg,” he sniffles, scrubbing at his nose with the tissue before blowing his nose into it. He balls it up and adds it to the growing pile next to him. He plucks another from the box, sniffling into it as his sinuses itched and burned again. “How is ihhh….it t-twendty twendty th-three a-and-heh…hhih’schhieww! Snff! Snff! And we h-havend’t combe up wihh…with a cure for the c-commbond cold yet-ihtschiew! Snff! Snff!” 

“Bless you, sweetheart,” Steve frowns, rubbing his back. “Man, this cold is really kicking your ass, huh?”

Bucky groans, sniffling again. His breath catches, and then he’s coughing miserably into the blankets.  A shiver runs down his spine, and he’s hit with a really woozy, disorienting feeling. He looks up at Steve with the biggest, most tragic eyes possible.

“Do I feel warmb? I thi’ggk I have a fever. Hih…hih’ihtschiew! Eh’tschuh! Snff! Snff! Hih-hih…Hih! Hih’ITSHHOO! Snff!” He blows his nose again, giving a couple more stuffy coughs before slumping back into the couch.

“Bless you. That last one sounded like it hurt,” Steve murmurs, pressing his fingers against Bucky’s cheek and stroking it. He grimaces, “ah...yeah, I think you’re right. You’re hot.”

Bucky blinks heavily, and then gives him a strange look, “Stevend, this is a weird timbe for a combplimbendt…you’re…hot…too?”

Steve smothers a laugh, “fever, honey. You have a fever.”

Bucky is quiet for a few moments while he processes what Steve just said. Then, he groans and buries his face in the blankets. “Oh mby god I’mb and idiot.”

“You aren’t an idiot…but…that does make me want to get a reading on your temp.”

“Hih’ihtschiew!”

“Bless-”

“Nng’xxcht!”

“-You. Don’t stifle, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

“I already have a headache,” Bucky grumbles, breath hitching again. “Ih’tschieww! Tsch! Iht’schieww!”

Steve kisses his cheek, leaving Bucky to go find him something for the congestion, as well as the thermometer. 

“I’m going to make you more tea while I’m up,” Steve calls over his shoulder. 

“Okay,” Bucky sniffles, groaning in annoyance when the sneezing just doesn’t let up. “hihh’itsschh! itsshh! Itsschhh! hhih’tschhieww! Ihtschiew! Snff! Snff!” He’s lightheaded at the end of it, head swimming as he tries to re-orient himself. 

“How do you feel about taking NyQuill now?” Steve asks when he returns with everything. “I know it’s a bit early, but you’re miserable.”

“How about you just kill mbe indstead?”

“Mmm,” Steve says, handing him the tea and crouching down in front of him so he can stick the thermometer in his ear. “I think that sounds like a permanent solution to a very temporary problem.”

“Mbaybe this cold will kill mbe.”

“I don’t think it’s going to kill you…but I’m not entirely sure it’s a cold,” Steve frowns, looking down at the thermometer once it beeps. 101.9. He sticks it in Bucky’s other ear, hoping maybe the reading is off. 102. “You don’t usually get fevers…or feel this awful with colds.”

Bucky shrugs. Whatever this is definitely doesn’t feel like your normal, run-of-the-mill cold, but he doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He lifts the tea to his lips, but practically shoves it back into Steve’s hands as the steam makes the congestion shift, and then he can’t stop sneezing. After what feels like a dozen or so, the itch finally dissipates, and he’s left sniffling and coughing and so exhausted. All he wants to do is curl up and sleep for the rest of the day while Steve rubs his back and plays with his hair.

“Bless you. God, that sounded miserable, poor thing.” Steve fusses. 

“Yeah,” Bucky croaks, eyes closing. 

Steve hands him the meds, and then stands up and flops next to him on the couch, “take the NyQuil. Can’t sneeze if you’re unconscious.”

Bucky chuckles, which just launches him into another coughing fit. Steve grimaces and rubs his back.  “Bei’gg undcondscious sou’dds ambazi’gg.”

“Wanna pick a show to watch while you’re waiting for them to kick in?”

Bucky sniffles, nodding as he slumps against Steve. 

“Sorry for probably sndeezi’gg ond you a mbilliond timbes,” Bucky mumbles, voice muffled by the blankets.

“Hazards of being in a relationship,” Steve smiles, wrapping his arm around Bucky and adjusting so that he’s laying with his head on Steve’s chest. “If I get it, I get it. It’s fine.”

“Sorry.”

“James, look at me,” Steve says gently. Bucky looks up at him, and Steve cups his cheek. “It’s fine. You’re sick, and I care way more about you than I do about avoiding this. Stop worrying.”

“Okay. I love you.” Bucky sniffles, sounding very tired and far away. He can feel himself drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Steve says softly, kissing the top of his head. 

And then, Bucky sleeps.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Hiii!!

I've been following the grumpy x sunshine fics (both two sides of the same coin and the twin flame) for a loooooong time on ao3 and I absolutely adore them so thank you so much for writing such amazing comfort fics✨🫶🤍

I wanted to ask if you'd be open to starting a similar series and like, just run with a concept/trope, for Steve x reader? (Maybe something along the lines of good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choices (that ultimately get a happy ending hehehehehe)). Just thinking out loud

Hello, dear reader! 🫶

That's so sweet of you to say, I'm glad you've enjoyed the series. It's honestly become one of my favorite things that I've ever written. I'm really proud of it (especially with how expansive it's become lol).

So, normally, right after a big series, I'll usually do a little mini series, just to write while I plot out and plan something else.

But like, this gives me an idea.

A good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choices, sort of idea.

We open in a bar. You and Steve are sitting in a bar, an open stool separating the two of you. He turns to you, playing it all back in his mind. You've grown up together. All of those core memories, the awkward moments, the fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications. You know, all the things that childhood best friends share with each other.

He turns to you and says, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why did we never end up together?"

And, suddenly, you're thinking about it too. You play it all back. Steve's off and on relationship with Peggy, that time Steve got into a fight with that dickhead guy you dated in college, when Steve broke your heart for the very first time, maybe you think about that time in high school when everyone called you a "slut!" because they found out you kissed Bucky and Steve. The kisses were years apart and were also just party game antics, but Steve got jealous and angry anyway. Each chapter just goes back and further back into their history. All because of that one simple question.

Did you mean something like that?

Because I would love to write something like that.

Thank you for the ask (and definitely stay tuned)! 💛

[nonbinary-octopus]

most of the time in dreams I am present in the narrative, but sometimes I'm just there watching it happen in third person. last night was mostly the latter. I was sometimes the POV person, but mostly I just followed him around as an invisible observer

So. The main person in my dream last night was this little boy, who loves his big sister very much, but doesn't have a birthday present for her. And it's her birthday today. And he really wants her to be happy on her birthday.

So, he sneaks off through some kind of portal he's not supposed to have access to, off to the human world to get her a gift she'll like.

I say "the human world" because it turns out that they're giants.

And the gift he has in mind is none other than the author of her favorite manga series. I think in my dream the series was called Omashu, which I realized later is from Avatar. But the kid finds the mangaka, somehow doesn't get noticed by anyone else, and yoinks him up. I don't really remember their conversation as the kid returned to the giant train that would take him home, but I do remember the mangaka responding primarily in scathing haikus.

So, the boy returns home with the kidnapped author in his hand, to give him to his sister. He debates whether to go into his own home first, or directly into the neighboring house where the party is being held (at the home of the sister's best friend and neighbor Peggy, with whom she shares the love of this manga series). He decides to go straight to the party without wrapping his gift first, because that's where his sister is.

In the entryway to the house is a tableful of jewish men having a conversation, and the boy must get past them to get to the party. He asks if his sister is there, and the dream tagged the question as being in Yiddish, but I don’t actually know any Yiddish so it was actually partly Spanish with a decent amount of gibberish. But anyway, the men tell him that yes, she is in there, and scoot their chairs in to let him squeeze past.

The mangaka has been squirming this whole time, trying to call out to the men, but the boy covers his mouth with his thumb ao he can't, and once they're past the table to a room with nobody in it, the boy sternly tells the author that he can't get the grown-ups' attention, or there will br trouble. They'd take him away, and the boy doesn't know what they'd do with him but it's probably not put him back, and also then he'd be without a present for his sister!

The author agrees to be quiet, and the boy goes to find his sister. She's in the kitchen dying eggs with Peggy. When the boy shows up, she's glad to see him, because he's been missing all morning and they were a bit worried about where he had wandered off to.

The boy reassures her that he's okay, he just went to get her a present. He shows her the mangaka, who is currently cooperating and not squirming or calling out, and proudly explains, "I know you like Omashu, so I kidnapped the author for you!"

His sister is both touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift, and that he clearly cares about her interests... and also horrified by the realization that this means her baby brother just went to the human world, which they are very not supposed to do – especially not alone and unsupervised and with the intent of kidnapping a human – and they could get in SO much trouble.

she decides that they can never tell the grownups.

also, she accepts the gift, tells him thank you, and tells the author that Omashu is her absolute favorite series ever.

so now the three of them – the boy, his sister, and Peggy – all share the secret of the kidnapped author, who is not particularly enjoying being kidnapped in the giant world but is making the best of it.

Shenanigans ensue.

(I woke up pretty soon after that)

I've been thinking about maybe trying to write a story based on this

[xoxobuckybarnes]

January 2023 Stucky Fics

Completed

Tattoo Your Last Bruise (Rated: E, Words: 9K) by ftmsteverogers 

Summary: “If you wanted, you could share the bed again,” Steve said, still studiously looking at the wall directly in front of him. “We used to do it all the time, before. It isn’t weird. Not for me, anyway.” Whatever Bucky had been expecting, that hadn’t been it. “Oh,” he said. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” Steve said, and disappeared down the hallway.  

The Sweetest Spark (series) by deadto27 / @deadto27​

The Sweetest Spark (Rated: E, Words: 73K)

Summary: Steve Rogers runs a successful business. He has great friends and a great life. It seems like he has it all. So why is he sitting in a diner on a Friday night alone? Maybe he's just a little lonely. Maybe Bucky Barnes can help with that.-----It wasn’t just how he looked. Of course, the fact that he was ridiculously stunning was what Steve had noticed first when he’d spotted him across the diner and had left him staring with his mouth open before he’d realised what he was doing, but how could he not?...Or: basically everything I love in a Steve and Bucky fic rolled into one.

We Agreed To Love Each Other (Rated: E, Words: 14K)

Summary: Steve and Bucky tie the knot. Follow up to The Sweetest Spark. Pure fluff.-----“It’s just one night, Stevie,” Bucky reminded him. “Then you’ll be stuck with me for every other night after that. Until. You. Die,” Bucky said ominously, pronouncing each word as a sentence, poking Steve in the chest.

We Got Bad In Common (Rated: E, Words: 41K) by LolitaBlue

Summary: "You better be quiet if you don't want anyone to hear us," Steve cautioned. "Wouldn't want everyone knowing your dirty secret." "Oh, shut up," Bucky panted. "Get a move on and fuck me like you hate me." "I'm about to." ----- AKA I've been manically typing a stucky enemies to lovers high school au... welcome to the bad love!verse

***This fic is complete, but the series (bad love!verse) is not***

wanna do bad things with you (Rated: E, Words: 5K) by LolitaBlue

Summary: Sitting on the couch next to Steve was a stunning brunette girl with bright red lipstick. She was wearing a tight black sweater and jeans, her curly hair subtly tousled. Bucky looked back and forth between her and Steve, stunned. Her cheeks were almost as red as her lipstick and Steve's mouth also had a rose-colored tint. Bucky blinked a few times, realizing what was going on. Steve's lips don't get that red from kissing alone. Bucky knew that, he's seen those lips swollen and spit-slick on numerous occasions. Steve's mouth was red because he'd been kissing the undeniably hot chick pressed against his side and her lipstick was smeared on his face. "Uh, hi Bucky," Steve said, clearing his throat. When Bucky didn't say anything, Steve took it upon himself to fill the awkward silence. He gestured to the girl who was frantically smoothing down her hair. "I'd like you to meet Peggy Carter."

***This fic is complete, but the series (bad love!verse) is not***

i’ve traveled half the world to say "i belong to you" (Rated: E, Words: 14K) by steviepie

Summary: “I got my family, my team, my boyfriend, for that matter,” Steve says, the iciness in his tone having nothing to do with the temperature inside the rink. “I’m plenty taken care of, but thanks for asking.” “Plenty taken care of,” he echoes absentmindedly, arms crossing across his chest and his chin jerking up and down as he tries not to make his glare into the camera exceedingly obvious. It’s only after he’s spoken that he realizes that in doing so, he’s forgotten what else in this situation he’s supposed to be tampering down. Oh, fuck. Way to run their mouths. (alternative: steve and bucky but as hockey players who have been together since day one)

In the Air Tonight (Rated: E, Words: 8K) by otakugirl08x

Summary:  Missing scene. In Wakanda; the night before Bucky goes into cryo Steve has a revelation.

Lessons in Normality (Rated: E, Words: 38k) by relenafanel / @relenafanel 

Summary: Things Steve knows about his boyfriend Bucky: How he looks with his face relaxed in sleep. That he can perfectly flip pancakes. The way he’s open about things Steve is still adapting to, like therapy and depression and sex toys and being a millennial. The way he laughs with his mouth wide open and his eyes squinted, and the cheerful way he cheats at cards and loses at laser tag. The way he seduces Steve with a knowing glint in his eye. The way Steve responds to it, stronger each time, taken by his beauty and competence and snark and compassion (or the compassionate way he boots Steve in the ass when he needs a push).Things Steve doesn’t know about his boyfriend Bucky: That he’s an undercover operative gathering intel on Hydra, SHIELD, and which Steve is affiliated with. Otherwise known as The Honey Pot AU

All the Ways to Say I Love You That Don’t Work (Rated: E, Words: 22K) by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy  

Summary:  Finally free from the grips of Hydra, Bucky Barnes needs all the help he can get to acclimate to life in the twenty-first century. Steve's always at Bucky's side, providing support, explaining things, and throwing a reassuring arm around his shoulders, which gives Bucky all kinds of warm feelings. The other Avengers notice their closeness, as well. When Bucky overhears a discussion about whether or not Steve and he are dating, he isn't bothered. He likes being with Steve, and he likes being treated respectfully. Determined to let Steve know how much Bucky cares about him, he uses his research on modern dating to woo his best friend. As he ratchets up his campaign to catch Steve’s attention, sparks fly. Or maybe those sparks were there all along.

off the record (Rated: M, Words: 37K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: The Avengers have a problem. Six months after the Battle of New York, public opinion is beginning to turn on them and they are in dire need of a PR boost. Reporter Bucky Barnes needs to impress his boss enough to get a promotion onto the Features desk. This assignment might get him there, but the fact that he really hates the Avengers is the least of his problems today…

fire escape (Rated: T, Words: 6K) by  sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: “This dumb cat thinks it lives here.” Bucky is peering through the window of their one-bed apartment in Bed-Stuy. There’s a white cat outside on their fire escape that is practically a ball of fluff against the wrought-iron. Steve joins him at the window and coos. “Aw, it’s cute.” “It’s begging for scraps. It’s a scam,” Bucky gripes.— There's a cat that keeps coming to their fire escape. Bucky doesn't like it. Pre-series fic but can be read as a standalone.

***This fic is complete, but the series (al, pal and alpine) is not: the question (Rated: G, Words: 2K), the pancakes (Rated: T, Words: 6K), ballet shoes (Rated: T, Words: 3K), post-match (Rated: T, Words: 4K), london calling (Rated: T, Words: 10K), mouth bones (Rated: T, Words: 4K), & flower girl (Rated: T, Words: 3k)***

WIP

Treading Water (Rated: M, Current Words: 56K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first.

***Be sure to check out the rest of this amazing series : Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***

***Also, check out the amazing artwork for this fic: Pick up your shirt from the floor (Rated: G) by Dyslexic_Fetus / @reagy-jay ***

Atoms (Rated: M, Current Words: 35K) by Andrea1717 / @andrea1717 & art by kahey2804 / @kahey2804

Summary: After a hard year and the end of both his military and his short career as a personal bodyguard Steve Rogers did not expect the call from his best friend and ex- colleague Sam Wilson. He offers him a job, full time and long term, starting on the next day. At first it sounds perfect to finally move forward from the devastating events in his past career and life - being one bodyguard in a group of four for a rich kid from a famous lawyer. How hard can that be? What Steve didn't expect was the kid - Bucky Barnes, twenty two, traumatized from his dark past, devastatingly beautiful and a real brat. After a while on the job Steve not only discovers that Bucky seems to play a role most of the time, he also discovers that parts of his heart who seemed to be dead for a while are very much alive.

An Appropriate Omega (Rated: M, Current Words: 177K) by BeauRadley

Summary: Steven Rogers, the Duke of Brooklyn, is in a bind. The provisions of his father's will mean he must marry before his thirty-fifth birthday or lose his mother's inheritance. The catch? He has to marry a suitable omega. James Barnes is the third child of the impoverished Barnes family. If he or his sister don't marry before the season is out, their family will fall further into poverty. If he doesn't find someone else soon, he'll be forced to marry the sinister Lord Pierce. The two men realize they can solve each other's problems, but will their marriage of convenience turn into something more?

Expect the Unexpected (Rated: E, Current Words: 178K) by SmutConnoisseur / @smutconnoisseur​

Summary:  While Navigating fatherhood along his angst a teenage son and balancing a career, Steve Rogers finds himself in the crosshairs of one James Barnes, a protective single father of his own.

[doll-elvis]

Why did Elvis not have full sex with a lot of women he dated

some of y’all’s questions never fail to make my mouth drop- but thank you for the ask!! 😃

I actually do think this is an interesting subject although a little awkward to discuss so I just wanna say a disclaimer:

I obviously didn’t know Elvis in real life, I’m not a psychologist, and only Elvis knows why he did the things he did, all we can do is speculate based on the sources that we have

so based on what I have read I think the reason he often preferred foreplay as opposed to penetrative s*x had to do with both his physical body and his religious/southern/conservative upbringing

According to Lamar Fike “He didn’t like penetration that much because he was uncircumcised, and sometimes intercourse tore his foreskin and he’d bleed”

Marty Lacker also commented “Elvis was a little ashamed of being uncircumcised. Maybe he thought it was old-fashioned or kind of country. He mentioned once that s*x was a little painful sometimes because the foreskin tore”

Elvis was born at home and Gladys and Vernon, like many parents, couldn’t afford to have the procedure done. For some reason there is a stigma against uncircumcised men in the U.S and I often see it being associated with uncleanliness (which is probably why Elvis showed Joyce Bova how he cleaned it, iykyk🤧) However for Elvis I think he also saw it as a mark of his impoverished upbringing like Marty Lacker suggested and reportedly Elvis referred to little Elvis as a “hillbilly pecker”

And in the later years I understand that the prescription medication often made Elvis impotent, also I’m sure he just suffered from general exhaustion considering how much performed

Lamar Fike said “Dr. Nick wasn’t giving Elvis testosterone just to make him more virile onstage. Shit, no. He gave it to him for impotence. You couldn’t dope up that much and get a hard-on if Elizabeth Taylor stuck her ass in your face”

Peggy Lipton who he briefly dated said: “A heavy making out and petting session ensued. The petting went on for a quite a while. And then we made love. Or tried to… he was virtually impotent because of the drugs”

However I think it’s untrue to say that Elvis never enjoyed intercourse. According to Barbara Leigh whenever her and Elvis hooked up they would often consummate twice in one night. Joyce Bova and Diana Goodman also gave some very descriptive and frequent stories of their s*x life with him in their books 👀 and of course there have been a lot more women who have said they went all the way with him

Sheila Ryan said “We did have a very active passionate romantic life. Sometimes more than I was ready for, prepared for. Sometimes I was tired and it was ‘no, no, no’. So, you know, I’m really surprised to hear that other women had a problem with the lack of intimacy and s*x”

(once again I wish I was Sheila Ryan in the 70s !!)

Anyways, as I said before I also think his religious and southern upbringing had a lot to do with how he viewed s*x

Joe Esposito said “Despite his s*xual escapades, Elvis had a disarming naïveté when it came to women and s*x. Deep down, he believed s*x and fatherhood were for marriage”

Elvis was raised in and believed in a culture where s*x was strictly for marriage and so he simply found other ways to please himself. I also think he occasionally felt religious guilt for acting out s*xually so that is why he sometimes tried to be fully abstinent, like that one time in the 60s he told Priscilla that he had to learn to control himself from lust

Y’all know when Lana Del Rey said in the national anthem monologue “I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him”?

That quote has always reminded me of Elvis😭!!

I think he was stuck between his love for women (plus the fact that so many were available to him) and his religious upbringing (believing that s*x and virginity were something sacred)

what do y’all think?