#missing home

[kaisenkalogathia]

Artist: yamada_souko on twt

The loml ☺️☺️

[thedeadpoetshadow]

This part of my life is call

Missing a home that never existed

-Anii

[acadmicvictimsblog]

Yaaar !!! ghar ke khane ki yaad aa rahi hai ;(

[i-remember-yyou]

[yagirlyubnub]

Don’t You Remember This Place?

all the memories there?

The friends You’ve made? The lands You’ve traveled?

You Miss home, don’t you.

[moxx-n-angel]

Home.

[inlovewithquotes]

Sansa remembered a summer's snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They'd each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she had none. Bran had been percher on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she'd slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn't, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.

-Sansa Stark

[beautifulandraretoevenexist]

How can you tell your mother, home is not your home anymore? That everytime you come back here it feels more alien. How can you tell her that this is not your safe place anymore and you don’t want to be here?

I romanticise this place when I have lonely days, but in reality, every time I come home I am reminded how much I hate it. How much it drains me, and how much I wish I was free to be untethered from it forever.

How do you say I love you, but I don’t love this place anymore?

How do you say I love you, but I wish I didn’t have a reason to come back?

[electricswamp]

[anika-ann]

Missing Home (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, early relationship, canon-ish (see A/N)

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader (GG x Sparkles)     Word count: 2900

Summary: Still stuck working in an office after you had been at the centre of a case – stalked, kidnapped and shot – you get the first taste of what it’s like to be the girlfriend of Captain America.

With his mission lasting for days, with no contact allowed, to say you were worried and you missed him would be an understatement. But what about him? And how do you even greet your boyfriend of three weeks and best friend in one person home…? 

Warnings: FLUFF, mention of canon-typical violence and injuries, language

A/N: Standalone or a one-shot following Love on the Brain series and (Love)Sick. ; divider by firefly-graphics 😍

Checking mission reports was a boring job.

Looking for discrepancies among several reports from the same mission as to reveal potential moles was, while undeniably important, a very boring job as well, even as it involved cooperation with your friendly resident artificial intelligence.

Listening to hours and hours of records from surveillance was nothing less than vital for upcoming missions – but that was a spectacularly boring job that induced paranoia and made a person question every word they heard.

You were sick of it all.

Recovery took time, you knew that. Even with medical miracles such as Dr.Cho’s cradle and highly effective rehabilitation techniques, you were still only allowed to have leg days and cardio days that would not involve much upper body strength work if any. Your dislocated thumb was still tender at times, even if fully functioning. You still had more frequent obligatory therapy sessions due to the fact you had been kidnapped by a stalker whom you had to kiss in order not to catch a bullet to your brain and who ended up shooting you in the arm. Bottom-line was, you had not yet been cleared to go back to action – and for a good reason.

Temporarily moving you to a desk job was the right decision, you were aware of that. Going out to the field where a supposed recon-mission could change into a shoot-out or intense hand-to-hand session with no chance to tap-out was not a safe place for anyone who wasn’t at their hundred percent and considering the fact that a damn flu had taken you down and slowed down your healing, you wouldn’t dare to deny that you weren’t ready. The system placed at the AI worked and was a good one – at any day, you’d agree with that, even if you bitched about it.

The problem was that Steve had been cleared. Naturally, whatever injuries he would have sustained would be healed long before yours and he hadn’t suffered any. The emotional impact on him, while not insignificant, was deemed resolved sufficiently. Had he seen the woman whom he was in love with – and hadn’t get a chance to tell her yet at the time – held at gunpoint? Yes. Would there be a session after you returned to field in case a mission involving both of you came up? Yes. But he had already been benched for a few days and the worst of humanity didn’t exactly take a holiday just so he could spend time with you and stay safe and sound within the walls of the Tower.

That was fine. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been worried for him before he kissed you senseless.

The problem was, you were bored, and despite wanting to pay close attention to your momentary – no less important – assignment, you had to admit you were growing antsy.

And it wasn’t just because of the itching to get your body moving. You didn’t only miss some of the adrenalin straight to your bloodstream, even though right now, it was mostly cortisol flooding your body. You’d smile at knowing how the concentration of stress hormones changed according to which type of stress you were going through – courtesy of being a friend with a literal genius or two – but you couldn’t find it in yourself to will your mouth to do the hard work.

You missed Steve. This was his first mission lasting longer than 24 hours since you… got together, and in addition to longing for his presence, your mind was in overdrive as you wondered what the appropriate way to greet him was.

Even as your former BAU team wasn’t in your vicinity, you could practically feel Emily’s unimpressed gaze on you, see JJ’s and Derek’s smirk, hear Garcia’s cooing at the cutesy of you two. It made you want to bang your head against the desk. It would have been safe to do that – the stack of paperwork was so tall your landing would be soft.

Yes, there was probably nothing special about Steve coming home after three days, except there was, Emily. No, Derek, no, JJ, we hadn’t slept together yet which was a whole another issue, so that wasn’t really an option – or was it? Try to push for some sweet lovin’ baby (God, Derek, shut up) after Steve had to deal with violent offenders? Probably not. Even if it might take Steve’s mind off of things; and of yours. And yes, Penelope, we are crazy in love, we’re that one disgustingly adorable couple, I guess. Not helping.

Could you even kiss him upon coming home? If he arrived to the apartment building, there was no questioning it; and so far, that was what had been happening. But what if he came down here? What if he came back while you were still at the Tower? You didn’t want to embarrass him; even as you knew he certainly wasn’t ashamed of dating you in the slightest, you didn’t want to make a spectacle out of you two. You didn’t want to give other agents any reason to whisper with renewed intensity about favouritism; you had already heard enough, thank you very much.

But then what were you supposed to do?

Whenever he’d come back, before, you’d hug him. Tight. And perhaps that was the answer – that would be perfectly acceptable. Maybe you’d stealthily press a kiss to the nearest patch of skin. Subtle. Right? But that just-

“Jones?”

You jumped in your chair, earning a very strange and very disconcerted look from your next-cubicle colleague, momentarily standing right by your desk.

Janine. Her name was Janine Anderson, you reminded yourself as you blinked yourself back into reality, the low hum of the computers and shuffle of papers reaching your ears along with a buzzing sound – and a vibration on your wrist which you momentarily ignored.

“Yes?” you asked, remembering to arrange your face into at least a polite smile, even as you felt blood flush your face. Some (co)worker you were.

Agent Anderson just bit back a smile; she was nice like that. You liked her. You weren’t exactly friends but whenever you got benched after an injury and ended up here, you’d strike an easy conversation. She was rather sweet and as far as you could tell, she was the rare kind of person who might have envied you your friendship – now relationship – with Steve, but was able to look past it because she was able to see beyond the end of her own nose and to be happy for other people.

“Your wrist has been buzzing for maybe a minute. Are you okay?”

What.

“What?”

Your head snapped to your StarkWatch, momentarily having fallen silent – but shining with nine notifications. NINE messages.

Your stomach dropped to your feet, heart stuttering in panic. Oh god no, no, no, no-

Seven from Tony. Two from Steve.

You let your shoulders relax a bit. If Steve texted you, he didn’t sustain any life-threatening injuries – even though you knew that if he had and was still conscious, he’d try to play them down for the sake of your mental health. You scrolled down the notifications, the world around you once again fading away as you could practically hear the two distinct voices from two different conversations.

(3:50) Metalhead: the bald eagle has landed

(3:50) Metalhead: not that cap’s bald

(3:50) Metalhead: only got singed a little

(3:50) GG😘: Hey Sparkles. Just landing. You busy?

(3:50) Metalhead: he still has all hair so still pretty I guess

(3:51) Metalhead: but his profile does look kinda like bald eagles right

(3:51) Metalhead: of course it does he was born on 4th July

(3:51) GG😘: Whatever Tony’s telling you, he’s being an ass. I’m fine. Missed you. Meet me?

(3:52) Metalhead: oh great will get cap speech now

“God you’re such an asshole,” you muttered under your breath, startled at the cackle sounding by your right. You spun in your chair, head snapping up. “I’m sorry, not you. Tony.”

Janine’s eyes shined as she held at her chest as if holding back a full-belly laughter, still chuckling. What a sweet easy-going human.

“Yeah, I figured,” she hummed, nodding to the offending device. “Wanna share or is that confidential?”

You snorted. “Barely. I mean this in an affectionate way – I think – but Tony being an ass is barely a secret.”

Janine smirked. “So… they’re back. Ohhhh. He’s making dirty comments about a proper welcome home, isn’t he?”

You wished.

You sighed, eyeing the stack of papers on your desk. There would be no welcome home at this rate. You had been slow today and since you had had no idea when Steve would be coming back, it had been next to impossible to stay motivated.

Regret and worry bit into your gut. If you had been antsy before, now you were outright fidgety. Steve had clearly been hurt, he admitted he had missed you – which wasn’t a bad thing, he was tender like that, unafraid to show you this kind of vulnerability – and you were about to get stuck in here for at least another hour. Or two.

But you had to go. You had to check up on him. Then, you’d get back here, which would be hundred times harder once you’d actually seen him; despite the anxiety nagging your brain, your body was already humming for Steve’s presence. Still – no matter how difficult it would be, there was no other option.

“I wish. Whatever they did… I guess it was a close call,” you explained, gulping and eyeing your workspace once again with dismay.

“Well then what are you still doing here? Lock those papers up and run. These aren’t going anywhere, trust me. They can wait till tomorrow if not longer.”

You worried your teeth over your lower lip at her suggestion; your heart already sang at the premise of throwing responsibility to the wind.

After all, Steve was probably hurt. Janine was right – what the fuck were you still doing here?

“Anderson, you are my new favourite person,” you blurted out, hastily opening the container under the desk by your left, shoving the papers in there with little care, swiftly tapping in your code – Janine had the decency to look away, bless her soul – and rising to your feet almost at once.

Already stepping away, you took a U-turn as you heard Janine mumble: “Yeah, till you see your man maybe.”

She huffed a surprised laugh as you leaned over her chair and hugged her with the lightest pressure. She patted your hand and motioned for you to shoo away.

“Go get him, tigress.”

You hummed in agreement, already half-way out. Y tapped at your phone furiously, practically jogging to the elevator.

(3:54) Me: 42 floor med bay?

You received the message just as the elevator door opened for you.

(3:54) GG😘: Just getting released after a check-up. Told you.

“Smartass,” you huffed at the addition, feeling your lips curl up in a relieved smile.

(3:55) Me: omw

The ride ten floors up was short, you knew that but it might have as well lasted for eternity. You fought the urge to tap your foot – you suspected Jarvis somehow could tell that and tried to have the elevator go faster. Clearly, he was learning. Since the A.I. have interrupted your potential first kiss with Steve (maybe twice), Tony might have learned a thing or two and attempted to teach J how to read signs.

Not that you cared.

You nearly fell out of the cart with how quick you were to step out and look around. You scanned the small crowd, realizing it made sense the med bay would be full after a three-day mission involving maybe ten agents, especially since even Captain America had got hurt. Yet, it was hard to see anything but the unmistakable outline of the tall broad figure, more so since his shoulders were only accentuated by the shield strapped to his back.

Still in his suit, albeit the navy blue one for stealth, he was impossible to miss, towering above most of medical staff and agents alike. He seemed a little lost in the midst of the organized chaos, even as he was clearly checking that everyone was being treated. Of course he was.

When he spotted you walking down the corridor, his face lit up – so much you could see it even at the distance.

A few faint smudges of dirt which he had obviously tried to clean up remained on his face, the darker patches on his suit hard to ignore; but whatever had happened, his fire-proofed gear took most of not all of the hit. You felt the traces of anxiety melt away from you. Steve was okay. Tony Stark was an asshole, but an asshole with a brilliant brain and despite all his talk and jokes, he cared deeply about the safety of his friends and his designs reflected that. Bless the jerk.

Steve stalked to you in several long strides, avoiding the few people in his way – a doc, a nurse, two agents whom he had probably been in the field with, nodding at them reassuringly, but absently. He was a man on a new mission – you.

You were off the ground before you could say more than a soft hey.

He scooped you up, arms firm around your waist, your feet hovering inches above his combat boots. You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his shoulders in an air-tight hug and you were grateful for it; it was the only thing that felt right, your body easily melting into his. Like puzzle pieces falling into place, magnets inevitably drawn to each other and attached through one of the fundamental laws of nature.

There was no kiss. Just both of you breathing in deeply, releasing the air slowly as the comfort of being in each other’s arms sunk into your skin, through your muscles to the very marrow of your bones, enveloping your heart in a gentle warmth.

Steve smelled of disinfectant, soap, sweat and smoke, but the tinniest hint of him was there somewhere, your brain helpfully supplying everything else. A phantom smell of his cologne and coffee. Home. You didn’t care if it was insane to think this way after less than three weeks of dating. Being in his arms felt like coming home, even as he was the one who had been away.

His lips brushed briefly over the skin of your throat before he set you down to your feet, no doubt conscious of this not being the place for anything more. Truth was, you didn’t need more at the moment – it suddenly felt so silly to have wondered how this would go, how it should go. This was perfect; any outcome of this encounter, as long as Steve came back home in one piece, would be. And it seemed it was good enough for him too.

He interlaced your fingers together as he led you back towards the elevator. You could feel several stares on you – and you didn’t give a damn. You let the warmth of Steve’s calloused hand seep into yours, glancing at his content smile, which widened when he felt your gaze on him and looked down at you, eyes brimming with affection.

You were lucky, the pair of you – the elevator was still there and empty bar you. The second the door slid shut and all the nosy onlookers were gone, you found yourself crowded against the wall of the cubicle, gentle palms cradling your face, lips stealing a kiss and the breath from your mouth.

He didn’t have to say he missed you – he had the tenderness and the palpable need in his touch speak for him, a sigh of deep contentment falling from his lips and parting yours. Your hands found careful purchase of his shoulder, fingers sliding to his nape to caress the short hair there, hoping you could have him feel at least half the love your heart was humming with. You let yourself fall into the soft waves of affection, his warm solid body grounding you in reality even as this felt like a dream.

Home.

Only when out of breath, his nose nuzzled yours; fingertips brushing over your hair, brief encounters of lips, again and again, causing you both smiling wider and wider as you opened your eyes.

“Hi,” he finally reciprocated your greeting, drawing a soundless chuckle from you, hands still firm and gentle on your face, the blue of his irises shining.

“Welcome home, GG,” you whispered back, earning another kiss, his fingers sinking into your hair and tipping your head back just slightly to indulge you both, to kiss you deeper, to feel more of you.

He leaned his forehead against yours then, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, his voice wishful, heavy and light at once – profoundly serene, as you were.

“Yeah, Sparkles… I am.”

If the elevator only began to rise only then, you wouldn’t have been able to tell nor you cared, realisation dawning to you through the soft veil of affection.

The welcome part of Steve coming home had never mattered. And the home part was not set firmly in time and space – you built it right there where you stood as one, together.

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist

Oh these two... giving me all kinds of feels 🥰

Sorry I've been kinda awol, school has became a lot and I couldn't find energy to write... it's being worked on 😅

Thank you for reading!

[thoughtsfromsmallhours]

12:17 am

[arcanesdiary]

Sometimes cluttering is love.

I am so sick of everyone constantly wanting a minimalistic home where you should throw out all that is of "no use".

What about the fact that I loved it once. Those things that are of no use anymore used to be my whole universe. It still is, in another universe. Is this the world we live in? Throwing away after it's "useless". No wonder so many hearts stay broken forever. It's because you don't know how to love.

Start with the clutter in your house. Love it again. Remove those handwritten notebook of yours when you were in third grade. See the mistakes, marks and watch yourself still love it all. Those forgotten games on the top of your cupboard, the barbie house, the collection of pencil boxes. They aren't just your past, they are your present and future. Because loving your past existence is still loving yourself today.

my parents never threw it away; they must love me quiet a bit :)

[teamaker09]

Having more than one home is like

Part of you is always missing

Part of you makes home wherever you are

Your friends laughter is so bright

Someone's voice is always missing

There is light in every moment

There is absence in every corner

The way your friend teases you reminds you of your sister

Your cousin had a surgery you didn't know about

Your childhood home is so loud

Your apartment is so quiet

The friends you had for years have new inside jokes you don't get

While the new ones you left behind for vacation

Frame pictures lacking your face

You're afraid of staining the stark white walls of your new place

They'll never be as colorful as the drawings you hanged over the years

But, at least,

Those walls are yours.

You know you loved silly stickers

'Cause you see their shadows in your old room

The ghostly laughter of missing friends

Are the echo of their happiness

Your tasteless cooking takes you back

To your grandmother's messy way of spicing

Missing is the aftershock of having

And the base layer of building.

Having more than one home is finding

That absence is your heart's way

Of demanding to be filled.

[dolcefior-e]

Some old-fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.

[haunting-home]

Palermo, Sicily

2023

[inlovewithquotes]

"Death is not the worst thing," the kindly man replied. "It is His gift to us, an end to want and pain. On the day that we are born the Many-Faced God sends each of us a dark angel to walk through life beside us. When our sins and suffering grow too great to be borne, the angel takes us by the hand to lead us to the nightlands, where the stars burn ever bright. Those who come to drink from the black cup are looking for their angels. If they are afraid, the candle soothe them. When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?"

Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit, I smell hot bread baking, I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf, I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. "I don't smell anything."

-A Feast For Crows