#roger scoots forte

[marvelettesassemblenow]

Tati's Flufftober Six - Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (+ platonic Thor)

Summary: You build a pillow fort for you and Steve - but someone is interrupting

Word Count: 900

Warnings: Thor is a fan of Steve's ass and isn't afraid to tell him

A/N: This is my fifth entry for @flufftober and I have no clue what this is...

This was meant to be a huge romantic gesture. Steve had been so tense for months now and you wanted to help him. You remembered he told you about the pillow forts he had built with Bucky when they were kids. He was missing his friend lately and you thought that this would might help. 

You had spent at least three hours to create the best pillow fort ever! There were fairy lights on the wall and over the blankets that were thrown from one pillow to another. It hadn’t been easy and you couldn’t count the times you had put it up again after it had fallen down. But finally you stood in front of your hard work and you were happy that you accomplished the task without throwing the pillows against the walls. You left the room to get some snacks. A movie was already opened on the laptop so you could watch it in the tight space together. 

When you came back Steve already stood in the doorway and stared at the surprise you had prepared. “Oh, I thought I had some time,” you mumbled and he turned around when he heard your voice. 

“What is this?” he asked and you were sure you picked up some amazement in his voice. 

“I remember you telling me about building a fort with Bucky and I thought you might need a pick me up, so I did this. I picked up a movie from your list that we could watch...” 

“I would like that very much,” Steve interrupted before you could ramble any more and you grinned at him. 

You held up the food in your hand. “I have some snacks.” 

The two of you crawled into the fort and got comfortable. You tried to put your head into a good position until Steve offered his arm as a pillow and how could you tell him no. The movie started and you almost couldn’t hear it over your fast beating heart. And if you could hear it, you bet Steve could hear it too. He didn’t comment it and instead started to stroke your arm with featherlight touches of his fingertips. Suddenly he stopped and you wanted to ask him why he was so tense when you heard it too. 

“Steve?” a loud booming voice asked. “Are you here? I need,” suddenly the blanket was lifted and you looked at Thor who stared at you and Steve. 

“What is this?” he asked confused. 

“A pillow fort,” you replied shortly after Steve didn’t make a move to answer him. 

“What is the purpose of it?” He knocked against the pillow next to him to point out what he was talking about, but it started to fall. 

“No,” both you and Steve almost screamed and Thor stopped it from falling. But instead of leaving he crawled into your space too. It had been a tight fit with Steve, but with Thor in the mix it was almost unbearable. Steve had pulled you almost onto himself and scooted over so Thor wouldn’t damage any more of your work. 

“Oh, are we watching a movie too?” 

“We?” you asked and tried to put as little as possible of your weight on Steve. 

“Oh there are also snacks, great,” Thor grabbed over you and found something he liked. He then took in how you and Steve were tangled. “This doesn’t look comfortable!” He took in your awkward position and mumbled something about how there was too little space until he pushed himself on his side, grabbed Steve around his stomach and pulled him towards him. You hadn’t realized how much strength he possessed until this moment. “Get on your side, don’t worry about me. I’m big, I can look over the two of you.” He pushed the two of you until you were all laying on your right side with Steve in the middle. 

You still used Steve’s arm as a pillow, but you had to admit you were a lot closer to him than before. You couldn’t complain about that, but when Thor started to talk again you hushed him. “Stop talking!” 

It was quiet after that and the first one to break the silence was actually you. “It’s almost like you’re Herkules,” you whispered and snuggled closer towards Steve’s arm. 

“Nah, Herkules is an ass. Steve instead is a very honorable man – with a nice ass I have to admit.” At that moment both you and Steve almost chocked on air. “What? A guy can admit that. He has a great ass – and you do too. You both have great asses and – wait, did I interrupt something here?” 

“YES!” It was the first thing Steve had said since Thor had joined you. “You are interrupting.” 

“I’m sorry brother. Mother always said I’m sometimes don’t realize,” he started to ramble. 

“Would you just go?” Steve asked again and Thor was quickly to leave – after snatching some more snacks. “I’m so sorry! I should have said something sooner,” the super soldier said once it was only the two of you again. He started to pull away, but you stopped him. 

“He means well. He’s just,” but you couldn’t find a word to describe it. “Do we want to continue watching this movie?” 

“Do you have any other options? Another Disney one maybe?” he asked into your neck and you snuggled a little bit closer to him. You agreed on Robin Hood and to be honest you would have agreed on anything that would have kept you in Steve’s arm. Even Thors annoying comments – although he was right about Steve’s ass. It was great! 

“Thank you for this,” Steve whispered in your ear while the music played in the background. He then kissed your neck and your heart picked up its pace again. 

[loove-persevering]

‘’you have to be okay’’ steve rogers x reader!

Description: [request!] The reader doesn’t listen on a mission and results in an injury that also brings up some feelings for Steve.

__________________

‘‘We’re going to need to talk sooner or later,’‘ You hear the all too familiar voice from behind you. It hurt to hear his voice at the moment but you felt better knowing that he at least wanted to talk about it. But it wasn’t him that confessed his feelings, yup that was all you. 

‘‘Theres nothing to talk about,’‘ You say simply. ‘‘Nothing at all.’‘ You turn around facing him staring straight into the blue eyed man you had confessed your love to a few nights previously. ‘‘Let’s just get the mission done and we can go back to acting like it never happened, like I never said a thing.’‘ You offer. 

‘‘We both know we can’t do that,’‘ He tells you sincerely. 

‘‘We’ll were going to,’‘ You rebuttal, ‘’I want that conversation to never had happened,’’ You sigh, ‘’Can we do that?’’ You ask him. 

He crosses his arm over his chest, ‘’I don’t think I can,’’ He explains. 

You groan throwing your head back out of annoyance, ‘’I told you I loved you, you said you couldn’t say it back. I accept that but I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’’ You tell him almost pleading for him to forget about it. 

‘’You’re embarrassed.’’ He points out, ‘‘We still need to have that conversation.’‘ He reinforces.

‘‘Hell yeah I am embarrassed, I threw it out on the line to tell you and you give me all these mixed signals like you love me and about moving on from the past and here you are still stuck Steve.’‘ You explain. ‘‘I’m never going to be her, and if you can’t move past her we can’t move forward.’‘ You explain. ‘‘I get it you loved her but that was over fifty years ago Steve, I love you so much but I can’t wait forever.’‘ You tell him, ‘‘It’s not fair,’‘ You explain and he nods his head seemingly understanding where you were coming from. 

‘‘I think I just need more time,’‘ He explains. 

You smile to yourself realizing that time seemed to be the issue at hand, ‘’I’ll give you all the time you need Captain,’’ You say before the purple mist and the rush of air filled your ears, a moment later you were in the common room of the compound away from the room that seemed to just keep growing smaller and smaller. 

‘‘When did you get here?’‘ Tony asks the armor covering his face sliding up. 

‘‘Like two seconds ago,’‘ You explain to him. 

‘‘Must be nice if your running late,’‘ He says making a pretty good point actually. ‘‘Speaking of which, Rogers!’‘ He yells out and you see Steve come from around the corner not meeting your gaze. ‘’Let’s go!’’ He tells you and Steve, ‘’Natasha is already on the jet.’’ He explains and you were the first to move to get the passenger pilot seat which means you wouldn’t be stuck next to Steve for the flight there.

_________________________

‘‘How we doing out there?’‘ You hear Tony on coms. ‘’Y/N?’’ You hear him ask specifically. 

‘‘Still trying to find the room,’‘ You explain. It was hard for you to teleport in areas you weren’t familiar with you never knew what room you’d end up in. You had studied the layout of this specific building but what was in the rooms was what you had worried about. You had already given that you were here when you popped up in a room full of soldiers who were very big and kinda scary. 

‘‘No rush,’‘ You hear him say but there was sarcasm dripping from his voice. ‘‘We’ll hold down the fort,’‘ He explains. ‘‘Looks like they’re sending in more soldiers from a bunker near by I’m seeing cars full of them headed our way. We gotta make this snippy,’‘ He tells everyone. 

‘‘I can find it just give me a minute!’‘ You tell him not wanting to not finish the mission. 

‘‘Theres too many get back to the jet,’‘ You hear Steve chime in and you had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the sound of his voice. 

You don’t say anything you just keep shifting from room to room till you found the box of serums they had stolen that could potentially be used as a weapon. They were deadly in the hands of the wrong people and HYDRA were the wrong hands. ‘’Y/N?’’ You hear Natasha over the radio, ‘’Where are you?’’ She asks. 

‘‘I have three more rooms, it has to be in one of them,’‘ You explain. 

‘‘Y/N get back to the jet now,’‘ You hear Steve come over coms, ‘‘Not debatable,’‘ He says. 

‘’Another minute,’‘ You tell him. 

‘‘You should really get back to the jet Y/N,’‘ Natasha says warningly. 

You were finally on the second to the last room when you saw it, there the few samples were in a fridge across the room, the room was a lot larger than the rest you had been in and it was completely vacant. ‘’I found it,’’ You chime in. 

‘‘Time is precious,’‘ You hear Tony say. 

‘‘Just a second,’‘ You tell them. You can hear Steve yelling at you over the coms telling you that you needed to get out as quickly as you could. ‘‘Rogers just shut up a second would ya?’‘ You say taking the piece out of your ear not bothering to hear the nagging they were doing. 

 You walk over to the samples they were all in a glass container just a few of them, luckily it looked like they hadn’t run any test or even used a bottle yet. You open the cooler where they were and pull them out they were a bit heavier than you expected, when you turned around you notice the reflection of a red beam, you furrow your eyebrows confused what this would be and then you realized your eyes widening. 

You heard the shatter of glass and then immediately the air closed in around you and when you opened your eyes you were back on the quinjet the team staring at you expectantly. You could see there eyes turn from shock to worry and Steve was suddenly pushing his way through from the front of the jet to you his eyes full of panic and worry. ‘’Y/N?’’ He says but it was muffled. 

You glance down as he makes his way over finally his hands resting on your shoulders, you notice the broken test tube glasses and blood coming through your uniform. You weren’t quick enough and now you were shot with some type of serum that hadn’t been tested on humans yet, ‘’Steve,’’ You say panicked and he looked at you completely terrified. 

‘‘Hey, you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine you hear me?’‘ He says his hands cupping your face. ‘‘You’re gonna be just fine,’‘ He explains but even you could see the tears in his eyes. 

‘‘We need to lay her down,’‘ You hear Tony say, ‘‘She’s gonna pass out,’’ He tells everyone. 

Everyones panic seemed to set in because Steve held you close as everyone else buckled into the jet, he kept talking to you trying to keep you awake and the last thing you heard before it all went completely dark was Steve saying, ‘’You have to be okay.’’

___________

The clock read 03:07 A.M. when you woke up for the first time, you instinctively reached up feeling all the wires on your chest and you tried to pull them off. ‘’Doll, keep those on okay?’’ You hear the familiar voice. It was so good to hear his voice. 

‘‘You’re here?’‘ You ask him and you see his body shift up from the smaller bed in your room. ‘‘Where are we?’’ You ask him your voice cracking at the end. 

Steve sighs walking over to you, his hair had grown out slightly as well as a beard and that was when you realized you had been well not awake for a while. ‘’I should go get the doctor,’’ He says sitting at the edge of your bed, too far from you if you had a say in it. He turns his head toward the door and you start to push yourself up so you weren’t laying down. ‘’Careful,’’ He says his hand instinctively reaching out. 

‘‘How long have I been out?’‘ You ask him your head still spinning. The look on Steve’s face seemed to tell you it was longer than he wanted, ‘‘How long?’‘ You ask pushing yourself up more.

‘‘About a month,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘The shot wasn’t fatal but the serum whatever it was it almost killed you,’‘ He couldn’t even meet your eye. ‘’I told you to get out of there. If you had just listened then we wouldn’t-’’

‘‘We finished the mission, who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten those samples.’‘ You tell him.

‘‘You wouldn’t have almost died! That’s what would’ve happened,’‘ He says his voice getting louder and louder. ‘’We had no idea what was in that serum and it went into the wound you got from the shot, and we’ve been waiting for you to just wake up although we weren’t really sure you were going to.’’ He says. 

‘‘Well I’m resilient,’‘ You say crossing your arms over your chest. 

He lets out a huff but it sounded like a laugh, ‘’I love you,’’ He tells you and you felt yourself freeze. ‘’That day when you left I realized I was messing up the one thing that Peggy and I could never have.’’

‘‘And what’s that,’‘ You ask not in a sarcastic tone, but just a generally curious one. 

‘‘A future,’‘ He says. ‘‘And I can have that with you, and I took that for granted I found that out the day you were shot.’‘ He tells you. ‘’I was scared I was gonna lose you, and I don’t want to know what that’s like.’’ He tells you. 

‘‘Well I don’t plan on going anywhere,’‘ You tell him a smile forming on your face. ‘‘Now come on over here,’‘ You say scooting over as much as you could, Steve looked at you like you were crazy. ‘’Come on,’’ You tell him patting the open space next to you.

 ‘’I’m following your orders now?’’ He asks. 

‘‘Yes, yes you are.’‘ You tell him, ‘‘Can you tell me you love me again so I know that wasn’t a fluke?’‘ You say laughing slightly and you can feel his chest move up and down laughing along with you. 

‘‘I love you.’‘‘ He says.

Thanks for reading! REQUEST ARE OPEN! I didn’t proof ily though

[sagessoftwings]

Everything Takes Time Ch1

summary: After a toxic relationship, you retreated to Tony, basically the father figure in your life. You have a tragic past but a famous super soldier does as well. What happens when you and Bucky get closer and closer ;)

Warnings: small tang of angst, Tony being Tony. FLUFFFFF. 

A/N: THIS IS FOR THE SWEETEST THING THAT REQUESTED THIS. OML yall, their such a sweetie!! Hope you all enjoy this, I’m actually excited to carry this on!

The AC blasted as you drove the U-haul truck down the road to the Avengers compound. Tony personally asked you to be there, coming up with all sorts of excuses, but after getting out of a toxic relationship a new scenery wouldn’t be too bad. “What could it hurt?” you asked yourself, putting the car in park. Not even two seconds after getting out of the truck, you were engulfed in Tony’s arms, he’s always been like a father figure to you. Ever since he rescued you from Hydra’s grasp from using you as a weapon, you’ve always respected him… even after the accords. You know where he was coming from, just protecting people. 

“Oh… oh they grow up so fast!” he exclaimed and you rolled your eyes squeezing past his grasp. “I’d prefer to get all this in, you know? Cause the weather and I aren’t exactly agreeing.” He smiled and tucked your arm in the elbow pit of his, “Ah yes, well you see. I’ve taken the rails here”. You looked back to see a group of moving men grabbing the boxes “But Tony I have va-” a crash of glass meeting hard concrete interrupted you. “Valuables”. Tony winced at the noise, a nervous smile crossing his face. “I’ll pay for that, Seven years of bad luck Happy!” he yelled out before pulling you into the compound. 

“ Wow-” you spun around, trying to take all of it in and a chuckle erupted from Tony. “Y/N… this is only the front desk and office area”. You blinked a few times and then tried to play it off, “Psh.. yeah! Yeah” you muttered and Tony lead you to the elevator. “Since you’re my favorite, don’t tell Rhodey, I gave you a room with a view. Just, the bad part it is, tin boy is on the same floor.” he crossed his arms and looked out of the window… wall? Whatever. You raised a brow, “You do realize I have no idea who these people are, right?” you asked and he chuckled. “Yeah that’s why you’re meeting them now” the doors opened and chaos erupted. 

Steve was trying to get everyone in a line, but nobody was having it. The only person who was actually listening was Scott who just gave a thumbs up. Steve sighed “I hate these people” he hissed turning to you who stood a little behind Tony. A cough was heard and everyone turned to where you stood behind Tony. “Everyone this is…” he pulled you forward. “This, is Y/N. Play nice, I need her.” he shoved you softly and you stared at all the eyes that bored into yours. “Hhiii” you squeaked out and Steve stepped forward holding his hand out. “Steve Rogers, it’s good to finally put a face to the name” he smiled and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“This is Bruce, Thor, Scott, Vision, Sam, and Rhodey. And most likely the only ones you care about, Wanda and Natasha” he smiled. After shaking everyone's hand, and having a good conversation with Nat and Wanda, things died down and you decided to help Tony with bringing groceries that he had delivered. After dispersing all the food in the Freezer and such Tony hopped up on the counter while you leaned. “Tell me, do you remember how to make that killer buffalo chicken alfredo?” he asked and you shook your head. “Yes” you smirked already grabbing the ingredients and telling Tony to do certain things like chop up garlic and heat the stove. After making enough food to feed an army, Tony set the table and you went to your room to change. 

You tore the boxes open, settling with athletic shorts and an oversized hoodie. You looked at the bookshelf and the desk set up in the more than huge room. You ran a hand along the soft comforter on the bed smiling at the hints of blue and yellow, picking up a sticky note you noticed Tony’s terrible handwriting immediately. ‘Always was your favorite color scheme, or was it mine? Oh well, enjoy! P.s glad you’re here’. You smiled at the sweet note and stared out the window. “Well, he wasn’t lying” you rolled your eyes and open the box filled with pictures and little trinkets Tony would collect on missions and send them back to you. After half an hour of decorating your room and quite literally screaming the lyrics along with Britney Spears, you pulled out the mini white lights you got from Target, and danced around. Singing may have not been your forte, but shaking your hips was. As you screamed at the top of your lungs, two supersoldiers were being escorted to your room by Tony. You never heard the knock that came from Tony so he opened it and nearly spit out the wine in his mouth. “Some Avenger” Steve joked, elbowing Tony.

You jumped when Tony let out a cough, ending with you dropping the shampoo bottle you were currently singing into. F.R.I.D.A.Y shut off the music and you kicked the bottle into the bathroom connected to your room. “Hi” you spoke softly and Tony laughed “It’s dinner time , trainwreck” he waved and fled to the elevator in a fit of laughter. 

“Hey!” you yelled and crossed your arms, looking up at Steve who stood in your doorway. “Oh, my turn. This is Bucky, he was training when you got here. Um, yeah” he said also taking off for the elevator. You smiled softly at the much bigger man. “Hi Bucky, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you” a smirk cracked across his face. “Pleasure, doll. Well, I guess we should walk down to dinner?” he looked at you with a raised brow. “Right! Yes,” you squeezed past his bigger frame and he followed behind you. Once on the right floor, you turned and opened your mouth but nothing came out. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked and you let out a genuine laugh, that may or may have not made the super soldier blush. “Are they always like this?” You asked and he nodded.

“You have no idea, just wait till morning” 

After dinner, you and Sam washed the dishes as everyone dispersed to their room after a long day. You grabbed a bottle of water before stalking up to your room. Since you were in a different time zone, you accepted the fact that you weren’t getting any sleep. Around 3 you did doze off, but noise made you shoot up and… was that screaming? You slid you hoodie back on and the screams led you to Bucky’s room. A hand grabbed your wrist making you throw your head up, your eyes meeting Steve’s. “Bucky…Buck- he gets nightmares. Pretty often but” you opened the door and saw Bucky writhe in his sheet, his hair sticking to the sweat drenched forehead.

Steve tried to yell for you but was scared he would startle Bucky. You looked at his form a second before running a hand through his hair. You crouched and whispered sweet nothings, it’s what Tony did when you had nightmares. Bucky woke up with a jump and his icy blues met your eyes. He stared at you, his body still shaking, he scooted back when you moved towards him. Tony peeked from behind Steve and a smile made its way to his face. “Bucky it’s okay.” you spoke softly and your soft palm spread out against his cold one. “No- I. I can’t let you see me like this.” he whispered softly. “You can, Bucky. I’m not judging, I just want to help”. The words came out so sweet and he met your gaze, “Please”. He broke down in a matter of seconds, gripping onto your hoodie. You looked back at Steve and he nodded closing the door, but he remained sitting down outside. Bucky let non-coherent whimpers into your shoulder as you caressed his head. “It’s okay Bucky, I see you” the words caused him to look up. “How.. how would you know?”. His sobs broke your heart, the way he bared his teeth. It was who you were, a long, long time ago. You sighed pulling up your shirt to show him your back, that showed scarred whip marks and a hydra symbol imprinted on your skin that must have been with scolding iron. “Y/N.. I” you smiled and turned back around. “We may be more alike than you know”. 

You wiped the tears from his face and then his nose. You were about to go get Steve but Bucky’s metal digits wrapped around your wrist. “Can you stay, please? I don’t want to be alone.” you could see tears starting to brim his eyes, so you grabbed a pillow off his bed and a spare blanket and sat on the couch across the room. 

“I’m not going anywhere”.

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

How does autistic!John handle storms after the events of your lovely story “Very very frightening”?

The sky was a miserable grey since dawn. Nothing new for dreary London. Everyone went about their business for the day, expecting a light drizzle in the afternoon before returning to chilly breezes and looming clouds. It was chore day after all. No time to sit by the window and watch the sky swirl and shiver.

Brian’s tasked with doing everyone’s laundry. He’s the only one patient enough to sort whites from colors, denim from silk. He sat on the kitchen floor by the rumbling machines, sighing as he sees another food stain on Roger’s shirt. Why can’t he eat like a civilized human?

Roger’s in the living room, hoovering with the radio on, singing along badly to Bing Crosby, who crooned loud enough to be heard over the vacuum. He waggled his finger and swung his hips to the beat, pushing the heavy appliance over the carpets.

Freddie was busy in the bathroom, scrubbing every surface until it shone. He didn’t want to talk about what 4 men could do to a sink or toilet. He just wanted to clean up the evidence. 

And John was in their room, door closed to block out the nerve wracking sound of the hoover and washing machine, tidying up the floor and bed. He had a window open to let in what little natural light there was outside, chittering to himself as he changed the bed sheets. 

He didn’t like chore day. There were too many loud noises from the clean up and too many people walking around doing different things and too many things to do. His boyfriends were gracious enough to give him the easiest of tasks and lovingly helped him when he forgot a step. They even let him stay alone in the room to avoid the chaos.

Still, he didn’t like it. Sweeping up a floor was so tedious.

Or putting on a new bed sheet.

John groaned when the bed sheet snapped out of the corner he had just tucked under the mattress, making him have to start all over again. You’d think they would have invented a better bed making system by now. It was the 70′s for crying out loud! The modern era!

He was about to go back to the offending corner when the hair on his neck rose. Far off, there was a grumble of thunder.

Thunder can come alone. It does quite often, he thought to himself, not daring to think of the other weather phenomenon that frequently accompanied the bellowing thunder. The word brought back unpleasant memories and feelings.

John shook his head of the anxiety, now more focused than ever on making the bed better than his mother could.

He tucked in each corner until not a wrinkle was present on the white fabric, fluffing the pillows before he put them in their pillow cases. He was gathering up the quilt from the laundry basket when thunder suddenly barked from the heavens. He could’ve worked through it if his eyes didn’t catch a faint flash from beyond the window, almost like a nerve lighting up the morose sky. 

Panic set into the bassist’s bones. He’d had nightmares about lightening for months. He couldn’t do this. No, no, no. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

John began to pound the heel of his hands into the side of his head, pacing back and forth. It felt like his brain had short wired. He could feel adrenaline flooding his body, but he couldn’t run or shout, only walk from one side of the room to the other, focusing only on the short bursts of pain to his temple.

Another roar of thunder coupled with a crackle of lightening seemed to get John moving. Right of out his room, running.

The world around him was achingly clear and sharp, every little detail burning into his eyes. Yet, he couldn’t remember anything about his flat. Where anyone or anything was.

The lights illuminating the house were too bright and the shaking of the washing machine made his ears ache. He could feel his heart fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. He suddenly felt very small and very alone.

He looked every which way, hyperventilating. He wanted to keep running, he just didn’t know where. 

His gaze fell on the front door and in his frazzled state, he went for it. John just wanted to get away from the lightening. He wanted to go very very far away from it and hide. He didn’t want the big flashes of light or broken glass. He wanted it to be dark and quiet and he wanted to be safe and he needed to get away right now. Right now.

His feet carried him closer and closer to the wooden door until, mysteriously, he couldn’t move anymore.

Panicked, he wriggled and writhed, tears building up in his eyes, a lump growing in his throat. He had to go. He had to! 

“Deacy, it’s me. I’ve got you,” Roger cooed, having caught John by the waist on his mad dash to escape their flat.

John let out a tiny cry as Roger came into focus. “Lightening,” his trembling lips said, his body following suit.

Roger nodded, pulling John into a bear hug. “I know. But it won’t hurt you this time. Not with the 3 of us here. You want to go find them?”

On edge, John kept looking around the flat, whimpering when lightening reared it’s ugly head in one of the windows. “Lightening,” he said again, his hands flying to his hair, ready to pull out more than a few strands. 

Roger turned John around, securing his arms over John’s so they stayed at his side. Hair pulling was one of the few stims they didn’t take lightly. Nursing a bleeding scalp wasn’t fun, especially when your patient refused to stay still.

John hissed, but Roger ignored it, picking him up in the position, waddling the both of them close to their room, calling out to Freddie who was laboring away in the bathroom, “Fred! Get Bri! We’re having a code thunder bolts and lightening!!”

Ushered into the room, Roger sat John down on the bed, working quickly to shut the blinds and cover them with the drapes. Freddie and Brian rushed in, already knowing what to do.

John was the type of like something until it went wrong once. And then he never liked it or even tolerated it again. He got a shock of static walking over a mat once and never wanted one in the house ever again after that.

His boys knew that and they knew after the lightening fiasco, he’d never do well with storms again. So they devised a plan.

Freddie had a pair of big sunglasses he offered to put on John. “To dull the flashes,” he said as John allowed him to put them on.

Brian had headphones, which John put on himself. “To block out any sounds,” he said.

And finally, Roger took a step back from their closet, John’s favorite place to hide or relax, which was now pimped out with pillows and blankets. 

John sniffled, wiping away some tears as he looked at all his boyfriends. He hesitated. 

Roger took his hand. Freddie held onto his waist. Brian placed a hand on his lower back. Together they guided the quivering man to his Lightening Fort, all of them smiling as he crawled inside.

It took a moment before John sagged against the cushions, laying down. All the anxiety faded away as his world went mute and his boyfriends hovered over him protectively.

“You like it, huh?” Brian said, grinning, noticing how quickly John’s body language changed. 

John could just barely hear Brian, but he nodded. He’d have to thank them later for thinking of him and his comfort. It never crossed his mind to have a plan for future storms. He thought he’d just have to suffer every time. 

“Look at our brave boy. All snuggled up in his nest. Not even crying anymore!” Freddie said, kneeling down to kiss John’s now dry cheeks. John smiled coyly, scooting further back into the closet. 

The flat shone brightly for a brief second as lightening sizzled, but John didn’t even flinch, not noticing it. Roger beamed, calling out, “Success!!”

John didn’t know why the 3 of them were celebrating, but it didn’t matter to him. He was comfy and safe. He laid his head down on a pillow, wrapping himself up in a blanket, chirping softly to himself.

“Mind if I join?” Freddie asked, sending Brian and Roger a wink, as only 2 people could fit in there. He’d won the Deacy jackpot.

John nodded, cuddling up to Freddie, making relaxed noises into his neck. Freddie pulled him close, humming happily.

Meanwhile, Brian and Roger stood outside the closet pouting. 

“We need a bigger closet,” Roger said with a frown.

“One day, babe. But for now, I call next with Deacy,” Brian said cheekily.

“Wait! No! I was the one who caught him! I’m next!”

“No, no, I already called dibs. Don’t be a sore loser.”

“Brian!”

“Roger!”

Freddie snickered while they fought, John purring and playing with Freddie’s hair, all of them oblivious to the torrential downpour, peppered with thunder and lightening.

[queenattheopera]

Opening Number, Part 6

Prompt: This is the story of the band that skyrocketed beside Queen and how their singer was fated to be with one of them.

Warning: Cussing 

If you want to catch up with previous parts they’re linked on my Masterlist in my bio

I open the door quickly with my eyes squeezed shut. "Hello." I take a peek and stare at the man before me. I blush a little embarrassed at my actions. "Um, hi..."

"I'm sorry to ask this, do I know you?" The stranger looks at me and smiles, "No, but I wouldn't mind getting to know you." He winks, and I chuckle awkwardly. I take in his figure; but before I could observe him a bit more, I notice he's holding a couple of bags. He realizes I am staring and extends the bags toward me.

"Oh, right I almost forgot what I was here for, here's your food. The food is $28." What.? I was surprised and shocked. It wasn't until I heard the rushed footsteps coming from my bedroom that I realized the man standing before me wasn't my date. Not only that but I stood before him with a puzzled and speechless expression.

"Oh shit my bad... Here you go, keep the change!" Noah pays the man and slams the door closed. I'm embarrassed for mistaking the delivery guy as my date. I feel my face heat up, but I still can't bring myself to move. What felt like years of silence ended when Freddie spoke. "Oh dear, I think we broke her. Sweetie, come here." Freddie wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me to my dining room.

Everyone followed us and sat around me. Darling, are you okay?" I look up at Freddie, "Yeah, I mean yes. I'm fine. I honestly don't know what happened. I was just anxious to find out who was at the door that I-" "You don't need to explain yourself, its cool dude." I look at Noah and smile. I'm a little relieved that they seemed to drop the subject. No more than a second later Noah starts to eat. Em squeezed my shoulder then looked at the food. "NOAH THAT'S MINE YOU FATASS!" I watched her take her food and settle down in the chair on my right. Soon everyone was sitting and eating.

Charlie told a joke that left the entire table laughing uncontrollably. I smiled at the scene before me, but I couldn't help check the time. 9:30. Freddie was the only one who noticed and he grabbed my hand under the table. He gave me a reassuring squeeze without gaining attention from the others.

I look at Freddie laugh. The others disappear and at that moment, it's just him and I. He looks at me and my eye wander toward his lips. I think about Freddie and me together. I haven't thought about him like this since he started dating Mary. I felt like I was looking for trouble, but he's worth it.

I couldn't think like this, my conscious was telling me to remain his friend. Just his friend. I pulled my hand away and excused myself. Ignoring the surprised stares coming from my friends I rush towards my safe space.

In my bedroom and pulled up the sheets. I hid under them and tried to bury my feelings. Everything felt heavy on my mind and heart. I didn't want to deal with anything at the moment. I look at my alarm clock and watch the minutes tick by. Each minute hurting more than the last. Around 10:00 I heard the others move around my flat. At 10:09 I heard the front door open and close. The at 10:15 it opened and closed again. I heard two people mumbling down the hall but the dealing sound of the clock drowned them out. At 10:21 I started to feel tears run down my cheeks. I bit my lip to stop myself from sobbing. Someone else left at 10:36. I heard the last person walk toward my room. "I think it's time we opened your gifts don't you think." Noah put the gifts on the nightstand and looked over the where my head was peeking out from the covers. He saw my tear-stained face motioned for me to scoot over. When I moved he sat down near my head and patted his lap. I placed my head there and he grabbed the first of 5 gifts. This one was wrapped in a newspaper, "It's um the day of our first performance ever! Can you believe it? I know you're a big softie and like to remember this kind of stuff so I thought you'd like the paper." He rotates the gift so I could get a better look at the paper. "So this one is from me, obviously, and Brian. Now let's see what it is." Noah carefully unwraps the newspaper and pulls out a photo album. He opens it and shows me one of the first few times our band had spent time with Smile. Then we see one of our performances. More tears fall from eyes but these were tears of happiness. "It was pretty hard getting these from Brian. He was pretty attached to them, but when I told him that you asked for them he put them in this album and dated them. So technically he did all the hard work, but I wrapped it! So it's from both of us." He looked at me and laid the gift down next to me. He grasped the next one, this one was is a bag. "Close your eyes," he looked at me and waited. I sighed and sighed and did as I was told. I heard the crumbling of the bag before Noah told me to open my eyes. He was holding out the most beautiful fur coat I've ever seen. "Freddie and I got it after your last coat was stolen at a gig. I talked to him and I um kinda told him you were too broke to buy one yourself and too proud to ask for one." I laughed and Noah laid the coat over me. The next gift was a small unwrapped box. I shifted my weight onto my elbow and he handed me the box so I could open it myself. When I did I was met with a beautiful necklace. "This looks just like Roger's.." He nods in response, "It's because it is." My jaw dropped. "How? I've never even seen him take it off!" Noah laughs at my response "Well a couple days ago I asked him where he got it. He asked me why and I told him that you really liked it and wanted a similar one." As he kept talking he took the necklace out of the box and latched it around my neck. "Instead of telling me where, he just gave me the necklace and said that you could have it. Ohhh but he also said next time just ask him directly." I grabbed the pendant and smiled. This gift was in a small bag. Noah pulled out a guitar pick. I looked at him for the story of the gift. "This one I didn't have to ask for. John asked me to give this to you. He said he made it after you two wrote that song together. He even had it engraved with the name of the song." I analyzed the small guitar pick and read the title. I also saw a small hole in one of the corners, my guess is that it's meant to be a necklace charm. I'll have to add it to the one Roger game me later. The last gift was shaped oddly and I couldn't guess what it was. "Now this one is from the band but mostly me. I um, I remember when we first started hanging out, you told me that you used to perform on the ukulele for your parents. So I thought I could bring back those memories with them with this." He pulled out a ukelele, the same one I told him I had. When I looked at him I could've sworn I saw him blush. "So I uh got the others to help me buy it by telling them that you wanted to play at some shows and they thought it would be pretty cool! So umm yeah.." I sat up and he held out the gift. Instead, I leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around me. Looking up at him I thanked him. "You didn't have to do all of this, but you did it anyway.. thank you so much. This is the best birthday I've had in a long time." He looks at me before pulling away. "Of course that's what friends do. I better get going-" he starts to walk away but I interrupt before he could leave my room. "No! Umm please stay, I don't want to be alone right now. What if we go watch a movie in the living room?" Noah nods, "um yeah okay, I'll go put a movie on, you should change into something comfy." I look at my date outfit and internally wince at the memory. I sigh as he leaves the room. I get into my PJs and spend the rest of the night with my best friend. It wasn't too far into the movie that I fell asleep in a blanket fort with thoughts of my mysterious missing date.

A/N: so I decided to take a moment with Noah,, I mean idk. I thought it was sweet. If y'all wanna see more with him let me know... if not then still let me know... More romance to come!!

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Brownie Points ~ A Steve Rogers Oneshot

A/N: This is a request. I was going to post it as the answer, but it ended up a bit longer than expect. 

From Anon:  Hi it's been a really rough week I've been sick and hormonal and this is totally up to you but could I get some Steve comforting? Take your time tho love and feel free to ignore

Hi Nonnie! I hope that you’re feeling better now and I hope that this helps.  

Rating: K+ 

Warnings: Fluffy Steve. Kitchen Disaster! Steve, basically comfort and floof 

Word Count: 1067 

You sat glaring out the window at the team enjoying the warm sunny day. This morning it had been black and stormy and matched your mood, but now it was mocking you with unseasonably warm weather. Perfect for frolicking.

Yanking the shade closed, you curled up on the couch and started surfing through Netflix. Your recommendation list was full of rom coms, but you knew that was either going to end in tears or abject rage at the ridiculousness.

You had just settled on a fairly innocuous baking show when there was a soft knock on the door. You suspected it was Wanda or Nat who had come to yank you out of your room and cheer you up, so you simply yelled your response.

“Go away.”

More knocking.

“I’m not going outside. I don’t care how nice it is.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Open up. I won’t make you go outside. I promise.”

Your eyes widened when you heard Steve’s voice.

“I have snacks,” he added.  

Begrudgingly, you got off the couch and opened the door. Sure enough Steve stood there with a plate of messily cut brownies that looked homemade. Despite your foul mood, you felt a smile spread across your face.

“Did you make these yourself?”

“Do I get brownie points if I say yes?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow and a tentative smile.

“Did you just make a dessert pun?”

“Maybe.”

“You dork,” you chuckled, stepping back to let him in. “Come on in. Do you want some milk?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

He had managed to tidy up your living room to its usual state in the three minutes it took to get the milk. He’d also readjusted your couch, fluffing the pillows and neatly folding down the blanket at one end. You smiled at his thoughtfulness.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” you commented.

He scratched behind his ear nervously and murmured an apology, “Sorry. Habit.”

“No, I’ve been meaning to clean up. Just haven’t felt up to it. The brownies look great,” you added changing the subject.

“I used your recipe. The super secret one you gave me just for emergencies.”

“And what made you think this was an emergency?” You asked as you curled up amidst the pillows.

Steve sat down next to you, not touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“You’ve been sad, sunshine. And that’s an emergency if I’ve ever heard one,” he explained as he stretched his arm along the back of the couch.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just been a really bad week. I’ve been sick. My emotions are nuts. One minute I’m up, the next I’m down. It just sucks. And I hate it.”

You groaned and dropped your head to your arms. Steve scooted closer and draped his arms around you.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. It’ll pass. You should go outside. Enjoy the sunshine.”

“I am enjoying my sunshine,” he grinned at you. “If you want to be alone I’ll go, but If you want me to stay, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

“Thank you, Steve. I guess it would be kinda mean to kick you out after you made me brownies.”

He shrugged.

“I mean I wasn’t gonna say that, but yeah. It would be.”

You nudged his side and reached for the plate of brownies, bringing it into your lap. You each took one and bit into them, only to immediately spit them back out.

“These are terrible,” he muttered horrified.

You both chugged the milk to clear the taste.

“They weren’t the worst brownies I’ve ever had,” you tried to lie.

“Well, they were the worst I’ve ever had. I don’t know what happened.”

“Are you sure you followed my recipe exactly.”

“Positive. A cup of sugar. Three eggs. A cup of chocolate chips. A tablespoon of salt.”

“Stop there. I know what’s wrong. It’s a teaspoon of salt. Not a tablespoon. That’s why it’s a little ‘t’ in the recipe.”

Steve flushed to the tips of his ears.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologize, Steve. The brownies might not have been, but the gesture was really sweet,” you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. The action caught him off guard, and he was quiet for a moment, before calling for FRIDAY frantically.

“What’s wrong?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Please have someone remove the plate of brownies I left in the kitchen.”

“On it.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face.  

“I can go get you something else.”

He was halfway off the couch when you pulled him back down next to you.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, Steve. Why don’t we get rid of these and we can make a fresh batch.”

“Whatever you like, sunshine.”

Excited to bake with him, you pulled Steve to his feet and led him towards your small kitchen. You put on some music and danced around as you showed him all your tricks.  

Since you had warm brownies, you decided to go all in and make brownie sundaes. Content with your dessert the two of you curled up on the couch and turned on Disney movies.

“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Steve. It helped.”

“Anytime, y/n.”

Steve wrapped his arm around you and tugged you tight into his side, where you stayed for the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep.

You woke up tucked under the blanket you and Steve had been sharing the night before and inhaled as you stretched languidly. Your eyes shot up when you smelled something burning.

“Steve?!”

You looked towards the kitchen in alarm, and Steve was dumping the charcoaled contents of a frying pan into the trash can.

“Steve. Put the pan down and back away from the stove,” you teased, turning off the burner and cracking a window.  

“Ya know, I thought. Just add water. I can’t mess this up. And yet, here we are,” he shook his head as he stared at the stove in defeat.

You stepped closer to him, taking both his hands in yours as you looked up at him.

“You’re a real sweetheart, Steve Rogers. But cooking is not your forte. It’s a beautiful day out,” you gestured to the window. “So how about you take me out to breakfast instead?”

He grinned down at you.

“It would be my pleasure.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! And I hope everyone has a great week! <3 

Tag Lists are open (please send an ask!) 

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[bettercallsabs]

The Groom To Be 2

A/N: 12/23. 2:32am. Due to starting a new job and all that jazz I’ve had very little time to write, but as my schedule solidifies, I will be posting regularly, so bear with me yet again. Anywho, I am so happy to be finally posting part 2. I hope you all enjoy! And thank you to each and everyone one of you that takes the time to read my works. I appreciate you more than you know! Taglist is open, so never miss a post.

Series Masterlist//Thee Masterlist

Engaged!Steve Rogers x WeddingPlanner!Reader plus sized reader-

Warnings: Adult language, Self-esteem issues.

Word Count: 3k+

STEVE ROGERS POV

Wedding planning was exhausting. Steve could believe people actually enjoyed this. He’s much rather have been kicking back with Bucky, and ice cold beer watching sports. But instead, here he was stuck planning large wedding, he didn’t even want whilst his fiancée was has way across the world. Steve always imagined a small, simplistic wedding, close family and friends, something rustic and homey. But Larissa wanted big, Big, BIG! 

Steve flopped into the overstuffed leather sofa of his Brooklyn loft. After a long day of venue touring, his brain was fried. 

“Beers are here!” Sam’s voice echoed off the exposed brick of the loft. His hands were full with four cases of beer. Bucky trailed behind him, carrying two large boxes of pizza.  

“You look awful man.” Sam tossed Steve a bottle, laughing as he took a seat in the match oversized chair. 

“I feel awful. I never thought I’d wish for something to go wrong, just so I could get out of wedding planning.”

“That bad?” Bucky chimed in carrying over a box of pizza with a roll of paper towels. 

“Yes! All we talk about is colors, and table settings. Flower arrangements this, wedding photos that. It’s beyond annoying. If Y/N was such a nice young woman, I’d have run off by now.”

“Nice you say?” Sam’s looked at Steve with quizzical eyes, one brow arching higher than the other. 

“Yes Sam, she’s very sweet. You’d like her.”

“Oh I would now?” 

“Yes, Bucky too. She really is delightful. We went to lunch today, and she’s actually quite comical.” 

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look of deviation spreading across their faces in the form of wicked grins. 

“Steve, buddy ole pal. Do you have the hots for your wedding planner?”

Steve’s face grew 10 different shades of red, as he swatted at his friends. 

“No! Of course not. I just... you two suck. You know that?” 

Both of his friends burst out into thunderous laughter. Bucky patted Steve’s shoulder, giving it a stern squeeze, Steve, shrugging him off. 

“Anyways, I love Larissa. I mean, I could probably set one of you up with her, although, she doesn’t seem like the dating type.” At least, Steve hoped she wasn’t the dating type. . . 

Steve felt a slight tightening in his chest as he spoke. He moved awkwardly in the lazy boy, taking a long swig of his beer, as his friends joked around. 

“Hey Cap, why so quiet bud?”

Sam looked at Steve with mischievous eyes- he was always up to no good. Steve rolled his eyes, refusing to feed into to Sam’s agenda, taking another long swig from the bottle. He suddenly wasn’t in the mood for beer and pizza. He needed to let off some steam. 

“I think I’m just going to go for a run. Yeah, a run sounds good.” 

Steve lurched himself from his seat, hustling to his room to change into better fitting clothing. Something he could move freely in without feeling like he was being suffocated. Steve ripped off his button down shirt, tearing it as he forgot his own strength for a moment. 

What the hell is wrong with me?

Steve thought to himself as he paused, his naked flesh exposed as he slumped over the sink, his hands clutching to  the edge of the counter.  These feelings were irrational, and Steve was anything but irrational… well, most of the time. Slipping into a pair of sweats and a form fitting blue tee that hugged his chest, exposing the definition of his toned pecks and perfectly built biceps and triceps, slipping a snuggly fit grey sweatshirt over top. 

After his tennis shoes were tied, Steve made his way for the door, his two best friends trailing close behind. 

“Steve, where are going?” Bucky stopped him, resting a bionic arm on his shoulder.

“I just need to clear my head. I’ll be back later, make yourselves at home, you always do anyway.”

Steve took off without another word. The cool air licked at his face as he took off running into the evening dusk. Thoughts of Y/N consumed his mind. That smile was infectious and sweet. She was shy, but outgoing, one of those women who didn’t know how beautiful they actually were. She was everything Larissa wasn’t. Sure, Larissa was kind, genuine and strikingly beautiful- some say she’s every man’s dream- but there was something Y/N had that Larissa didn’t. Steve wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he knew it was something significant. 

He was drawn to Y/N, but he knew he shouldn’t be. He was getting married, and she is the wedding planner. . . 

Steve pushed harder, his legs pumping faster as he quickened his pace from a brisk jog, into an all out sprint. Until his thoughts were of nothing  but remembering how to breathe. He didn’t want to think about her anymore… he couldn’t. 

———

The following weeks were painstakingly slow. Steve just wished Larissa would come back already. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this, keep up the facade. He had feelings for Y/N, that much he knew, but why was she so intoxicating? Just being in the same room as her made his head spin, and over the last couple of weeks things had only gotten worse. Steve found himself in a constant cycle of thought, always thinking of Y/N. He rarely thought of Larissa anymore, and it made him feel immense guilt and he didn’t think he could take much more of it. 

Steve sat across from Y/N, his arm draped over the plush loveseat as he listened to her speak in what seemed like foreign tongues. 

“So, Larissa sent me a message, and she would like you and your super boy posy - her words by the way- to pick out tuxedos. She specifically requested cumberbunds, but will settle for a low cut vest style. No bare. Shirts should have French cuffs and French front shirt. Pants should-“ 

Steve threw his hands up in defeat. “Listen Y/N, I know you mean well, and you’re  just doing your job, but for the love of goodness, I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m honestly not even sure if you’re speaking English to me right now. I know Larissa is nitpickie, but. . . Wow.”

Y/N looked at Steve with her calming eyes, that laugh that he adored so much slipping from her lips as she burst into laughter. 

“ I should have known fashion isn’t your forte.” Her smile widened as she continued to laugh. Y/N moved from her seat, grabbing the iPad that sat on the edge of her desk, before tasking s test next to Steve on the love seat, her leg brushing against Steve’s knee. 

Steve felt his heart leap in his chest. He felt nervous, clearing his throat as he awkwardly repositioned himself. He rubbed his sweating hands down his pants as he cleared his throat- trying to rid himself of the unreasonable nervousness.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so close.” Her voice was laced with panic and embarrassment as she scooted away, creating a large gap between herself and Steve. 

Steve could see in her mesmerizing eyes, that she was suddenly self-conscious, and her whole demeanor seemed to change. 

“It’s not big deal, it happens. Don’t worry about it. “ Steve reached out, resting  his hand on her forearm, trying his best to reassure Y/N, but thee damage was already done and Steve felt a wave of remorse. Her never should have moved. He liked the way her leg felt against his. He liked feeling close to her.  

“I um, wold you excuse me a moment?” Before he even had a chance to reply, she was off the couch and rushing out of the office. 

God dammit. 

Steve grabbed his phone that was tucked away in his pocket, sending a text to a group chat of his closest friends. 

Steve: I think I just made my wedding planner cry. 

Sam: Cap… What did you do?

Bucky: You….. Made a woman cry? How’d you manage that one?

Nat: Steve….

Steve: I didn’t do anything really… she just sat down a little close than I think she meant too… she was laughing after all…

Bucky: what does that even mean?

Sam: So like, did she touch you or…

Steve: kind of yeah. But it was unintentional. And I panicked. I have no idea why I panicked. 

Nat: You hurt her feelings Steve…

Bucky: Wait, I thought you liked her though? I’m confused now…

Steve: I do like her, I don’t know what came over me. 

Sam: Man, I knew you had the hits for her. You sly dog, you. 

Steve. NO SAM! NOT LIKE THAT! 

Nat: why are you yelling Steve?

Steve: You all are no help. 

Bucky: That’s what were here for, no help. We fight with force, not feelings. What did you expect?

Steve: Obviously I wasn’t thinking when I sent the text. You all are useless. TTYL. 

Steve tucked his phone back into his pocket, resting his elbows on top of his knees-his head hung as he massaged at his temple. What was it about this woman that drove him to the point of such irrational behavior? 

Reader POV

When your leg brushed against his, you prayed he wouldn’t notice. You hoped that you could play it off as if it didn’t happen, but Steve’s reaction sent the hopes and dreams blowing into the wind. HE seemed top flinch at your touch, moving as quickly as he could to create a distance between the two of you. The expression on his face, looked to be a face of horror and discontent. 

No…

You couldn’t think straight, as your emotions took over you. Before you even knew what you were thinking, you were on your feet, darting for the bathroom…

Your heart leapt in your chest as you hovered over the sink- your hands clutching the sink so hard, they ached. You felt your stomach beginning to churn, you felt as though you might just hurl. How could you have been so stupid? God. They way he moved away from you… Your heart dropped into your stomach, tears welling in your eyes. Of course he’d never go for someone like you, he was completely out of your league. He is Steve Rogers, Captain America- and he was marry Larissa fucking Levingston for fuck sakes. You were his wedding planner, period. 

“Get out of fantasy land Y/N, and do your job.” You scowled at yourself in the mirror, wiping the running mascara from your under eye and cheek. Taking in a deep breath, you recomposed yourself, You were a professional and you needed to be professional. With another deep breath, you sucked back in the emotions you had let run loose.

 Not today Y/N, not today.

You displayed your best fake smile- quite genuine looking- as you entered back into your office. 

“Sorry about that. I think I might be catching a bug. Now where were we?” You snatched up the iPad you had tossed onto the coffee table when you fled to the bathroom. You tested yourself back on the loveseat, but made sure there was a persons length between the two of you. You would not make the same mistake twice. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? If you’re not feeling well, I wouldn’t want to keep you.” 

Of course. You were sure he wanted nothing more but then to get away from you, but you had a job to do. You had to make sure Larissa’s requests were met. And the tuxedos were high on her list. You had to get them perfect, and everyone knows, that customer tuxedos take time, so this needed to get done today, now, no matter how much your self esteem was suffering, you had to do this.

“No, no I’m fine. This is important. Larissa wants custom Tux’s and those take time, so were going to have to pick out some styles today, and get fittings scheduled for you and your party. So let’s get started.” You wanted do get this over with as soon as possible. Your cuddle duds, crappy Lifetime movies, and Chineseese food, were calling your name. 

“Alright. Walk me through it then.

 After a long day at work, and an outburst of untamed emotions, you were happy to be home. You set the bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter, sighing in relief as you freed your poor aching feet from the new heels you had decided to wear that day-rookie mistake, you should have definitely worn them in first. You grabbed a Large wine glass form the cupboard, realising the cork from the bottle of wine as you proud yourself a generous glass. Taking a sip, you felt the glorious red liquid warming your body. Oh how you loved wine. 

Glass on hand, you climbed the short flight of stairs to your bedroom. You couldn’t get out of your work clothes quick enough. You didn’t even bother picking up your clothes from the floor- you knew you would regret it later, but at the moment, after the day you had experienced, you couldn’t care less- you made your way into the bathroom, clearing the days worn makeup from your face. 

Fresh faced and in your favorite pair of cuddle duds, you strutted down into the kitchen to prepare yourself some supper. Freshly chopped chicken sautéed on the stove, as you sliced some spring onion and ginger, adding them into the sizzling chicken, the mouthwatering  scent wafting up in the steady streams of steam. You flipped on the TV, turning the channel straight to lifetime. Crappy acting, predictable plot, and of course a criminal act, was all the joy of watching Lifetime movies. Even though they surely weren’t winning any film awards anytime soon, they somehow managed to keep your attention.

Just as you were spooning out your Teriyaki chicken into a serving bowl, your buzzer rang. You weren’t expecting any company… Walking to the door, you held the intercom button. 

“Who is it?”

“Hey Y/N, its Steve, Steve Rogers. Can we talk?”

What the hell was Steve Rogers doing at your home? How the hell did he even know where you lived? And what could he possibly want to talk about at 9:32pm. You stood there for one too many seconds, his voice speaking through the intercom. 

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Uh yeah, I’ll buzz you up.” 

Hesitantly, you hit the buzzer, unlocking in the door, and letting Steve Rogers into your building. And it hit you. You were in your jimjams, no makeup, hair a mess… Jesus fucking christ. A flood of panic rushed over you as you bobbed up and down like a lunatic. 

Fuck fuck fuck.

The knock at the door nearly sent you over the edge. You couldn’t possibly let him see you like this… but what choice I you have?

-another knock at the door.-

Fuck.

Hesitantly , you made your way for the door, unlocking the deadbolt, slowly opening the door so only half of your face was visible. Steve stood in the hall, a fading smile gracing his face- he looked nervous, his sparkling blue eyes avoided yours as he looked at the ground, before meeting your gaze. 

“I… Could I possibly come in? I’m truly sorry for the intrusion, I just wanted to talk with you.” 

Nodding, you opened the door wide enough for him to step through -You were going to regret this later… Hell, you regretted it now.- You closed the door behind him, holding your arms snuggly against your body. Your embarrassment level at an all time high. 

“Wow, it smells amazing in here.” 

“Oh thanks. I just whipped up some quick supper, I was actually just about to eat-“

“Im so sorry. Gosh, this was so rude of me to show up unannounced. I should leave.”

A part of you wished he would leave, but… 

“It’s alright Steve. No harm done. Actually, I made well more than I can eat alone… Would you like to join me?”

Steve’s eyes seems to light up as you asked him to stay. It made your heart sputter. 

“I couldn’t impose-“

“No, I insist, poles stay. DO you like teriyaki chicken?”

He nodded, a glint of a smile creeping in the corner of his mouth. “I cant remember the last time I had a home cooked meal.”

You directed him to the quant square table that sat in your eat in kitchen, gesturing for him to have a seat.  You finished spooning the chicken into the bowl, setting it onto the table with a side of rice, grabbing dinnerware from the cabinet. 

“Would you like anything drink? I’m afraid I don’t have much of a selection. Lets see here..” You peered into your fridge, nothing but beer and water. “I have some wine, or theres a bottle of Guinness , if you’d prefer that or water.”

“I’ll take that Guinness if you don’t mind.” 

You grabbed the bottle from the fridge, using the bottle opener magnet that hung on the fridge to crack it open. You took your seat across the table from Steve, feeling more aware of the situation you were in then you would have liked. 

“Please, help yourself.” Your voice began to crack as you pushed the food closer to his general direction. Steve hesitated a moment, before sipping a heaping pile of rice and chicken onto his plate. Good thing you had made enough to feed a family of five, because the man could eat. 

“Oh my, this is amazing! You made this?”

 Steve smiled that oh so charming grin that made you melt, as he took another bite.You nodded, smiling back at him as you dished yourself a plate. 

“So, what brings you by?” You asked between bites. You desperately wanted to know what brought this hunk of a man to your home. Was it about the tuxedos? His friends probably weren’t on board with it, and he was probably here to find away out of them…

“I wanted to apologizes. About early today.”

You nearly choked on your chicken. He came all the way out here to apologize? But for what exactly?

“Apologize? For what?

“My behavior earlier, you know. . . “ You could feel the heat rising to your face, a wave of nausea sweeping over you as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or embarrassed. I, I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know what it is, but, you…” Steve shook his head, his thumb and index finger rubbing at his eyes, before staring at you with those intoxicating blue eyes. 

“I don’t understand.” The words spilled form your mouth, barely audible. 

Steve was no longer sitting but standing in to the side of you. You looked up at him, completely puzzled by the predicament you seemed to be in. 

“I have to go. I’m sorry.” 

Steve hustled for the door, swinging it behind him as he left, with a slight bang. You were speechless, utterly confused. And you were 100% unsure on how to process what had just issued.

“What the actual…” 

FOREVER TAGS:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@itsanerdlife

@sea040561

@dsakita

@princess-evans-addict

@marvels-queen-bee

@mariekoukie6661

@flashfanfics

@drhughgrection

TGTB TAGS:

@lilypalmer1987

@tnupsweetpie

@drakestdream

@carrietoddrick

@patzammit

@universal-death-of-a-fangirl

@the-lachrynmose-one

@notyourtypicalrose

@ereboring

@whatmakesmebeme-tblr

@stark2510strange

@pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

@mrsalh32611

@cattfeine

@diaamondis

@3nmxnxt3r

[jenanigans1207]

17 Kisses [Part 3] |Klance|

A/N: Woohoo! It took me 10 days, but I finally finished all 17! Our word count came in at juuuuust below 11K words. Thank you, everyone, for sticking with me through it all!

The beautiful art you are going to see down below belongs to the amazing @just-a-fox-in-a-box (her other blog is @assemble-vld). She is amazing and talented and you should absolutely go check her stuff out. I’m very lucky she agreed to let me use that gorgeous artwork for this fic!

Summary:

There's a million different types of kisses in the world. Here we discover 17 of them.

Or:

17 ways Keith and Lance kiss each other. From sitting on the roof watching the sunset to under a waterfall on a planet on the other side of the universe. No matter where they are, they always find each other.

Find it on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2

13. Spiderman

 Keith was getting sick of having to pick up Lance’s messes. He would never stop doing it, of course, because he loved that idiot. But it was still frustrating to be roused in the middle of the night by Shiro shaking him awake saying Lance had been captured.

 Honestly, Keith was losing the ability to even be surprised.

 “Lance,” He whispered into his helmet as he slunk down the hallway, crouched low to the ground, “you owe me for this.”

 Through his com, he could hear the sounds of the others fighting. He could hear the lazers and the tussle and he knew he needed to hurry.

 As if on cue, Shiro bit out, “Keith, hurry. We can only hold them off for so long!”

 “Roger.”

 Keith crept along the hallway, grateful to find that most of the patrol had fallen for their distraction and gone off to fight the others. He was able to quickly take down the few remaining sentries and slip through the door waiting at the end. Once inside, he immediately noticed Lance, who was hanging upside down from the ceiling. He had his arms and legs tied together and was hovering just above the ground.

 “How do you always end up in these situations?” Keith yelled as he entered the room slowly, searching his surroundings for any hostiles.

 “Keith! You came for me!”

 “Of course I did.” The room seemed clear so Keith lowered his bayard and rushed to Lance. “But I’d appreciate it if you stopped getting taken. I’m getting sick of having to rescue you.”

 Lance rolled his eyes as Keith approached. “Yeah, yeah, just get me down, would you?”

 Keith had every intention of cutting Lance down the moment he approached. He truly did. But as he walked up and noticed that Lance was at exactly the right height, well, he couldn’t resist himself. He cupped Lance’s upside down face and leaned in, giving the boy a kiss. Lance kissed back with a small, exasperated sigh.

 “Really?”

 “You know what? You’re right. I was going to say ‘how many times do I get this opportunity?’ but knowing you, you’ll be tied up again somewhere in a week.”

 “Keith!”

 He leaned in and pressed one more kiss to Lance’s lips before slicing through the rope that was holding him in one fell swoop. Lance hit the ground with a thud and grumbled as he wriggled out of the restraints.

 “Now, c’mon spiderman, we’ve got a team to go help.”

14. Side of the Head

 Keith hadn’t been sleeping well. It wasn’t his usual sort of bad sleep, either. He wasn’t tossing and turning in bed, too hot when fully under the covers, too exposed when only partially under. He had been having nightmares--very vivid, terrible nightmares that lingered with him long after he woke. He would jolt up in bed, heart thundering in his chest, his body covered in sweat. His hands would shake, even hours later as he poured a cool glass of water.

 Today, in particular, the lack of sleep was catching up to him. He was spacey and irritable--forgetting things and then snapping at the others when they pointed it out. He knew he was being unreasonable, but there was nothing he could do to fight the fogginess in his mind. He considered isolating himself, but it turned out he didn’t need to as everyone was steering clear of him. Even Lance.

 He wanted to pretend that it didn’t hurt, but it did, even if he understood why. He knew it was a lose-lose situation; they avoided him and made him feel bad, or they stayed around him and had to deal with his sour mood.

 Too tired to train but too cranky to just sit, Keith had taken to angrily pacing the hallways of the castle. He had no real destination so he ended up sort of circling the same corridors over and over again.

 “There you are!” Keith stopped at the sound of Lance’s voice. “I’ve been looking for you!”

 An angry retort jumped to the tip of his tongue but he bit it back, scrubbing his hands along his face as he turned to look at Lance. “What’s up?”

 “C’mere,” Lance stopped, opening his arms wide.

 Keith wanted to pretend that he didn’t need the hug, but he did and Lance knew it, too. He took a few steps forward and leaned into Lance, burying his face in Lance’s neck. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

 “I have been working on something for you,” Lance said softly. “Hopefully it will make you feel better.” He turned and planted a kiss on the side of Keith’s head before pulling away slightly. He snagged one of Keith’s hands, interlocking their fingers. “Want to see?”

 Lance didn’t wait for Keith to respond before taking off down the hallway, dragging his grumpy boyfriend behind him. Keith stumbled the first few steps before he was able to catch up with Lance, falling in step with him. Lance glanced at him out of the side of his eyes and squeezed his hand as they approached the door to his room. Keith looked skeptically back at him and then the doors slid open and his breath was taken away.

 Lance’s room was enveloped in blankets. He couldn’t see the bed or the desk or even the floor. Lance had created what could only be described as the best, most extravagant blanket fort in existence. The floor was piled with blankets for cushioning and he had draped blankets from every surface he could, creating the perfect canopy.

 “You like?” He could feel Lance looking at him for his reaction. He nodded, eyes wide as he took in the sight before him, his bad mood dissolving rapidly. “There’s more.”

 They stepped into the room and Lance reached towards the light switch, flipping it on. Instead of the room lights turning on, twinkling fairy lights that he had draped into the canopy illuminated the room in a soft, almost magical glow. Keith kicked his boots off and padded across the blankets, ducking under the canopy so he could enter the blanket fort.

 “I’ve never been in one of these,” He murmured as Lance followed him under the canopy and plopped down, leaning his back against some of the blankets he had piled up for them. Upon closer inspection, Keith was able to see that it was actually a mixture of pillows and blankets for maximum comfort.

 “You haven’t?” Lance adjusted the pillows around him, propping them against the wall so Keith had a place to sit. Keith shook his head as he sat down next to Lance, leaning against the pillows.

 He looked at Lance and couldn’t help but have his breath taken away. Lance looked so beautiful in the soft lighting; his edges seemed to blur, the light surrounding him like a halo. He looked like the angel Keith knew him to be. “Are they always this amazing?”

 “No,” Lance scooted a little closer and pulled a blanket across both of their laps. “I made this one especially for a certain grumpy boyfriend.”

 “I’m sorry I’ve been so harsh.” He said, even though he knew Lance wasn’t waiting for an apology. Because he was Lance--selfless, caring and understanding. He would never hold Keith’s mood against him. He was more than Keith thought he deserved, but he was so grateful to say that Lance was his anyways. He was touched that Lance had gone out of his way to do something like this. He tried to express that as best as he could. “Thank you. For this. For just, you know, being you.”

 Lance leaned over, reaching an arm past Keith and under the blankets next to him. As he reached, he pressed another kiss to the side of Keith’s head. When he pulled back, he had a guitar in his hand that he had been hiding. “Last part of the surprise.”

 They readjusted so that Lance was able to prop the guitar in his lap comfortably. Keith moved the small remaining distance between them and laid his head on Lance’s shoulder as he began strumming the opening notes. He loved when Lance played the guitar and sang, but he rarely did it. And he certainly didn’t do it in front of anyone other than Keith.

 “What would I do without your smart mouth?” Lance began singing and Keith smiled to himself, settling further into his spot. Lance’s voice was honestly as perfect as the rest of him, but Keith couldn’t deny that he loved being the only one who got to see this side of Lance.

 Lance strummed the notes slowly, singing the song beautifully and quietly, filling their blanket fort with the last magical element that it had been missing. Keith’s bad mood had long since faded away and he found himself warm and comfortable, cuddled up to his boyfriend in what could only be described as the perfect moment of bliss.

 As Lance continued to play, Keith could feel his eyes slipping shut. Lance’s singing was like a lullaby, relaxing him until he couldn’t fight the sleep any longer. He briefly registered Lance kissing his head before he fell asleep.

 When he woke up the next morning, tangled up in the blankets and in Lance, still on the floor in their blanket fort, Keith realized he had never slept better in his life. Lance woke, blinking groggily at him, only to be met with a tender kiss and a soft, “I love you so much.”

15. Cheek

 Lance, of all the paladins, was the one everyone expected to be the most excited about all the interviews and photographs being taken of them. After all, Loverboy Lance loved to put on a good show. But the events of the past seemed to have changed him--softened him, almost. Keith could see now the way Lance’s priorities shifted. No longer did he care about pretty girls or big parades, he cared about the people closest to him. He cared exclusively for the people he would put his life on the line for and the ones who would do the same for him.

 So, he quietly stood in line with the others, positioned at Keith’s right hand--exactly where he should be--and smiled for the cameras. He didn’t make a big fuss, didn’t demand for more, just obliged patiently to every request. Of course, he did get a few snide remarks in during the interviews. I mean, he was still Lance, after all, just a matured version of Lance.

 “Excuse me,” Lance was getting the attention of one of the photographers, his hand placed on Keith’s shoulder, rooting him to his spot. “Will you use this to take a picture of us?” He asked kindly, offering the man his cell phone.

 The man took it, a bright smile on his face, clearly honored to be doing a personal request. Keith couldn’t help but smile a little in response. Leave it to Lance to always brighten people’s days and make them feel important.

 “Take a photo with me?” Lance asked him then.

 “Of course,” Keith took his arm back from Lance before throwing it around Lance’s shoulders and pulling them flush together. Lance responded by throwing his own arm around Keith’s shoulders and smiling big. The photographer was clicking away.

 “This is the happiest I’ve seen either of you look!” The photographer commented casually.

 The comment struck Keith, though. It was true that he was happiest with Lance, he had never pretended otherwise. But was Lance happiest with him? The thought made his heart swell with love for Lance. He was sunshine personified--he lit up the entire universe and made a positive impact on the life of everyone he touched. He was pure happiness. He made every single one of Keith’s days better and the fact that he got to curl up next to him at the end of the day was nothing short of a dream come true for Keith.

 The photographer was still snapping away, clearly having some fun. Keith turned, tightening his arm around Lance’s neck and pulling his face over. He planted a kiss firmly on Lance’s cheek, much to the surprise of both the photographer and Lance. He held that position for a few more clicks of the phone camera before pulling away.

 “That was amazing,” The photographer said, finally straightening up and handing Lance his phone back.

 They thanked him and he moved along to finish what he was originally supposed to be doing. Lance pulled up the pictures on his phone and scrolled through them. Keith couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled up when Lance flipped to the first picture of Keith kissing his cheek. Lance’s eyes were wide and his mouth was open in this huge, cheesy grin. It was adorable. Hilarious, but still adorable.

 Keith leaned in to press another kiss to his cheek as Lance tapped through his settings, changing that picture to his phone background.

16. Neck

Lance had a habit of kissing Keith’s neck whenever he went to pull back from a hug. Which, since they had officially started dating, was, like, five times a day. Keith didn’t mind it--oh god no, he loved it. But sometimes it made it hard for him to focus after.

As usual, Lance planted a kiss right where Keith’s neck met his shoulder as Keith began to pull away from their hug. Only this time, it wasn’t just one kiss. It was another, a little higher. And then another, and another, all the way up until he was kissing along Keith’s jaw.

“Lance,” Keith breathed. Not because he didn’t like it, or because he didn’t want it, but because they were standing in the middle of the hallway. They had been hugging because they were about to go their separate ways for a few hours, both having tasks they needed to complete.

“Mm?” Lance hummed, kissing down his neck again.

“What are you doing?” Keith’s hands were on Lance’s shoulders in the perfect position to push the other boy away from him but he didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to stop what was going on.

Lance pulled away on his own though and Keith frowned. “You're right, we have things to do.” He planted a quick kiss on Keith's lips before heading down the hallway. “I'll come to your room when I'm done!”

The walk down to the control room where he was supposed to be helping Coran with something was long, but not long enough. The butterflies weren't fully settled in his stomach yet and his head still felt a little foggy. He knew he would need to listen to Coran's instructions but his mind kept wandering back to Lance, no matter how much he tried to fight it.

“It's about time you got here!” Coran yelled as he walked through the door, even though he had never said  when  he would come and help. “We need to start immediately if we're going to make the progress we need.”

He launched into some long-winded explanation about their task, getting sidetracked into no less than three personal stories. Keith, honestly, didn't even try to listen. He wasn't even pretending, either. He was staring over Coran's shoulder, eyes unfocused.

“Keith? Hello? Number four?”

Keith shook his head, focusing back on Coran. “I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

Coran sighed and then pointed at the door. “Go take care of whatever is distracting you. Number five should be finishing soon, she can come help me.”

He didn't wait to be told again, afraid Coran would change his mind. He threw a halfhearted apology over his shoulder as he basically ran through the door. He hustled through the hallways, trying his best to maintain some semblance of composure but he was pretty confident he was failing. He burst through the door to the bridge realizing as he came to an abrupt halt in front of Lance and Allura that he had no plan.

Lucky for him, Lance seemed to be expecting this. “Is it time already?” He asked calmly. He then turned to Allura. “We'll be back soon, it shouldn't take long.”

Allura waved an unconcerned hand, dismissing them. The two walked through the doors and back out into the hallway together. As soon as the doors shut, Lance pressed Keith up against them, lips immediately finding Keith's neck.

“God,” He groaned between kisses, “You took so long, I thought you weren't coming back.”

“You were expecting me?”

“Are you kidding?” Lance pulled back and met his gaze, a smile on his lips, “That was the whole point. I didn't want to help Allura. And I'm sure you didn't want to help Coran.”

Keith wanted to be surprised that Lance had planned the whole thing, but he wasn't. Instead he just smiled back at Lance and said, “So, my room now, then?”

17. Underwater (Waterfall)

 Usually when the Paladins took a day off, they spent it on the Castle of Lions. It was nice, but it never truly felt like a day off because the castle only offered limited entertainment options. Because of this, Pidge, of all people, had petitioned hard to have their next day off on a nearby planet. Shiro was the first to back her up and the others quickly agreed. They didn't care which planet they went to, any change of scenery would be welcome.

 That being said, the planet they ended up on was spectacular. It was beautiful and luscious and the epitome of paradise. They had landed and practically walked off the ship and into the pool of water at the base of a waterfall.

 “Wow,” Hunk spun in a slow circle, taking in their surroundings and voicing everyone's opinions. “This place is amazing.”

 “Good going, Pidge!” Lance cried, ruffling her hair.

 Pidge made a noise of protest and swatted Lance's hand away but she was smiling. They walked the very short distance to the waterfall in a group and then fanned out around the edge of the pool. The water was crystal clear and glistening. Even through the ripples the waterfall caused, they could see straight to the sandy bottom. The waterfall fell half into the pool and half onto a slightly elevated cliff at the edge of the pool. The mist in the air caught the light, forming a rainbow.

 Keith, surprisingly, was the first to take off his shoes, roll up his pants and wade out into the water. Hunk was quick to follow.

 “It feels amazing!” Hunk waved the others on, “Come join us!”

 Pidge was already seated on the beach, tinkering on one of her many robotic projects. Allura was seated nearby Pidge, but her shoes were off and her hair was down as she relaxed in the sun. Lance wasted no time in stripping down to his boxers and scrambling up the rocks until he was next to where the water was hitting.

 “Cannonball!” He yelled, although it gave the others no time to react. He hit the water, the splash soaking both Keith and Hunk.

 He emerged from the water only to immediately receive two splashes directly to the face. Keith and Hunk exchanged a fist bump at a job well done. They exited the water after and shed their wet layers until they, too, were only in boxers and then returned to the water. Shiro had settled on the rocks near the waterfall, legs dangling into the water.

 He watched from his perch on the rocks, a smile on his face, as the three boys in the water swam around, splashing each other and laughing. It was nice to see them having fun and to hear Pidge occasionally chiming in from the sidelines.

 “Lance, your aim is terrible!” Keith cried, easily maneuvering out of the way of Lance's splash.

 “It is not!” He replied indignantly.

 Pidge piped up, laughing. “It really is, Lance!”

 “Oh yeah?” Lance directed his next splash at the shore, aiming for Pidge. He soaked Allura instead. Everyone laughed.

 “We're just lucky your aim with a gun is good,” Shiro commented and Lance smiled.

 The splashing died down then, but it was mostly because Hunk had latched onto the idea of doing his own cannonball from the ledge and was scrambling up it. Keith and Lance followed, the three of them lining up behind Shiro. Hunk, in an act of sheer bravery, took the dive at a running start. The splash he made rippled out across the water for a few moments before his face broke the surface.

 Keith and Lance moved together, past where Shiro was and where Hunk had jumped from, to stand behind the falls. The water cascaded against the rocks, splashing them and causing them to cling tightly to the rock wall behind them. They were already soaked, and it was a good thing because even keeping tight to the rocks couldn’t save them from having some of the water fall straight onto their heads.

 “Hey,” Lance said, looking at Keith. Keith glanced back. “This is pretty romantic, right?”

 Keith laughed, conceding, "It is."

 Lance laughed with him for a moment before taking two steps into the water and pulling Keith flush against his chest. He leaned down to kiss Keith, the cool water pouring over their entire bodies.

 “You know I can still see you,” Shiro commented.

 “Are they kissing?” Pidge yelled from the shore. They assumed Shiro confirmed because she followed it up with a good natured, “Gross!”

 Ignoring them, Keith adjusted, turning slightly so he had his back to the wall and Lance had his back to the cliff, their lips still locked. After a moment, he pulled away and shoved Lance before anything could be said. Lance tumbled off the cliff and into the water below, Keith jumping off a moment later with a laugh echoing in the air behind him.

[askfreddiemercury]

Michigan Fortes: bleh, love...

Might be the last one of these, I’m starting to feel insecure about my writings now, as if my insecurities about my art weren’t bad enough. I’ll finish part 9 of ‘in the closet’ sometime this week, maybe. If I feel good enough about it.

~~~~~

What do they know?! They don’t get it! I yell in my head as I storm home after an intense argument with the guys, we’ll just Roger and Brian. They act like they know what’s good for me! HA! As if!

As I head inside of Garden Lodge I notice how quiet it is, where is everyone? Is it someone’s birthday? Is it mine? No that’s not right.

Freddie: Hello? Hm, odd.

Hmp! Like I need to see anyone right now! I march my way over to my piano and take a seat, I stare at the keys and slam my hands down on them. I huff and puff in anger, I then start playing Bohemian Rhapsody in a rough manner. They think they know everything! Like hell they do! Fuck em’!

Freddie: I wish I’d never been born at all…! Fuck them!

I slam my hands down again but as hard as before in fear of breaking some keys, I then hear a whistle from behind me and it scares the living hell out of me. I place my hand over my chest and wait to hear who it is, I should’ve guessed.

Michigan: That was cliché of you, angrily playing a song and ending at just the right moment, I like it.

I sigh and turn my head.

Freddie: What do you want? And don’t you ever knock? You almost gave me a heart attack.

Michigan: Well, you sure looked like you were gonna give yourself one. What the hell is your problem today? Do I need to teach those asshats a thing or two?

Freddie: You leave them alone!

I quickly snap at him and he doesn’t take it very well.

Michigan: Who the fuck do you think you're yelling at, fag?! I’m just trying to be nice over here!

Freddie: By threatening my friends?! What a nice guy you sure are! Piss off you twat! I want to be alone right now thank you!

I turn myself back to facing the piano, and after a couple of minutes of dead silence goes by Michigan decides to walk over beside me. He holds out his hand.

Michigan: Mind if I take a seat?

Wah..?

Freddie: Huh? What are you doing?

Michigan: Look, just let me-

His face goes red.

Michigan: Sit beside you…

He says through his tightly clenched teeth and I scoot on over but not by much as I don’t want to fall out of the seat. He takes a seat with his arms crossed, how adorable.

Freddie: If this is making you uncomfortable, why do it?

Michigan: I’m gonna hit myself for this later too.

Just as I was about to ask another question his arm goes around my shoulder, what the hell does this man think he’s doing? I’m uncomfortable now too.

Freddie: Michigan…

Michigan: Just let me reminisce, Mercury.

Freddie: About?

Michigan: The last time I felt special about anything, I felt special because I actually had someone who cared about me in a way I didn’t even know about. Before I did the worse thing I’ll ever do in my life.

If he cares this much about me, then why doesn’t he just admit what he is? Come on, Michigan, just say you’re gay already. Everyone gets it but you. I know you hate it because you’re basically turning into your father (not really). He was a bad man, yes, but you don’t have to put yourself through this.

Freddie: Say it!

Michigan: What now? Say what?

Freddie: Admit you still love me and just say you’re gay for once.

I mush my cheeks together as I say that in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Michigan: Like I’ll ever say it, can’t I just carry on with my life while I occasionally make snarky comments like I’ve always done? Please?

Freddie: Hm, nope.

Michigan: Fuck you.

Freddie: You wish.

Michigan: Argh! Cut that out!

I chuckle.

Jim: Hey! Get your hands off my man!

The familiar voice of an angry Irish man hits my ears, Michigan lets go and stands up.

Michigan: Alright, calm down, potato boy. I didn’t hurt him I was just having a moment with him. He really needed it.

Freddie: It’s ok, Jim, he’s right the guys made me pretty upset today.

Jim: Just get out, please.

Michigan: Only because you said please, see you later baby.

He salutes me and walks out, stop calling me you idiot.

[harvest-honeymoon]

colored fae mob associates!!! i hope i didnt use too much orange,,

boone’s original lineart is @ack-crab’s

[beefybuffybucky]

The Fallen and the Guardian

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader - Steve Rogers x female!Reader (Fallen Angel AU)

Summary: Your life has been pretty normal up until a mysterious, unfamiliar face comes into your life. From that point on, everything tumbles into a downward spiral of love, heartbreak, and destruction.

Warnings: Language - Angst

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: I really like this idea for a fic, so, I’m just gonna see where it takes me. But this will hopefully be a multi-part series, so if you’d like to be tagged, just let me know! Also feel free to leave me some feedback since I haven’t really done an AU fic quite like this one yet. 

Sundays were always one of the busiest days of the week, especially during football season. As a bartender in a small town, most of the folks who filter in through the doors typically stick with their different kinds of beer, which makes your job a lot easier. Tonight's crowd is a bit more wild than usual since the preferred team had just won the game by a close margin - if the other team had made their field goal, tonight would be a very different story.

Your best friend, Steve, is sitting at the bar and smiles as you slide another cold beer his way. You've known Steve since middle school. You were both pretty geeky and didn't really fit in with anyone else, but when puberty hit, Steve bulked up a lot and you filled out in all the right places, gaining a lot of unwanted attention from various people at school. Steve protected you like you were his sister, and you two were always together. It's like he was your golden-haired guardian angel.

“Helloooo, Earth to Y/N,” Steve's voice cuts through your thoughts.

“What?” You snap your head up and blink a few times.

“You've cleaned that same glass about six times now,” he laughs, motioning with his beer to the cup in your hands. “Pretty sure it's nice and dry by now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you mumble, reaching up to put the glass back on the shelf above you. The door to your right opened and a small gust of cold, autumn air tumbled in through the door. You look over your shoulder as you start to clean another glass with the rag in your hands. A devilishly handsome man walks up to the bar and takes a seat right next to Steve - the only one left at the bar. He has nearly-shoulder length, brown, wavy hair, a scruffy face, and is wearing dark wash jeans, a black leather jacket, and a black t-shirt.

“A beer, please,” he smiles, taking his time to draw out his words. Even his smile is charming.

“What kind?” You set down the glass and rag, putting your hands on the counter in front of you.

“Bud Light would be fine,” he beams back, obviously chewing gum. You grab his beer and pop it open, then hand it over to him. “Thanks, doll.” He winks at you, prompting you to roll your eyes. You look up to tell Steve something, but he visibly looks uncomfortable, like this guy’s presence offset him.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, then pushes away from the bar and walks off somewhere into the crowd.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” The man brings your attention back to him.

“Who wants to know?” You attempt to brush him off, but his icy-blue eyes felt like they were glued to you. Instead of making you uncomfortable, his attention was oddly alluring and captivating.

“Just me,” he shrugs, taking a swig from his bottle without breaking his eye contact.

“And who might you be?” You shelf the glass, grabbing another one from the sink in front of you. “I don't think I've seen you come in before.”

“Just moved here,” he grins again. “Name's Bucky - Bucky Barnes.”

“Well, welcome to the middle of nowhere, Bucky,” you chuckle lightly. “My name's Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Another swig. “It suits you,” his mouth curls into another smooth grin.

“Hey,” Steve finds his way back to the bar just as you feel a light heat start to creep up your face. “I gotta head out, see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see ya. I'll text you when I'm done.” Steve takes his leave, and Bucky is quiet for a few moments.

“Is he your boyfriend?” His look is serious, almost dark.

“God, no,” you snort. “Just good friends, that's all.”

“Just good friends,” he repeats, dropping his gaze to the counter and chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing. You’re just cute.” He finishes off his beer.

“How about another?” A voice that sounded like his echoes in your mind, but you can’t tell if you’re just imagining it, or if you actually heard it.

“What did you say?”

“Just askin’ for another drink, doll,” he flashes a quick smile. You clear your throat and grab him another bottle.

“Thanks, darlin’.” There’s that voice again. You glare at him and he just winks in response.

“Are you...Did you…,” you can’t form the right words to ask. If you just straight-out ask him if he just spoke to your mind, you’d sound insane, but...you had heard it, hadn’t you?

“What’s wrong, doll? You’re lookin’ a little flustered.” He turns the bottle between his fingers.

“N-Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop that,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say that out-loud, and the embarrassment sends a new wave of flickering heat up your face.

“Stop what?” He slowly brings the bottle to his lips and tips it back.

“Y/N, you can head home if you’d like,” your coworker, Jared, tells you as he reaches for a glass above you. “I can hold down the fort.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying longer,” you wipe off your now-sweaty palms on your apron.

“Yeah, I can handle ‘em,” Jared confidently nods.

“Okay,” you shrug. “If you say so.” You untie the apron and grab your purse and jacket from below the counter. “See ya tomorrow.” You walk around the counter and directly out the door. Your car is only a few spots down from the entrance, and when you try to open the door, it doesn’t move. Even though you should, you usually don’t lock your car. You dig through your purse in search of the keys but come up empty-handed a few minutes later. A deep huff of air shoots from your nose. You look inside the window of your car and see your keys sitting right in the middle of the driver’s seat.

“Great,” you groan, lightly hitting your head on the window.

“Somethin’ wrong, doll?” Bucky’s voice startles you away from your car.

“God dammit, dude, give a girl a warning,” you shriek.

“Car troubles?” He nods towards your currently-useless vehicle.

“I locked my keys in, but I can call my friend for a ride.” You slide your phone out of your pocket and unlock it, then go to Steve’s contact.

“I can give you a ride if you’d like,” Bucky offers quietly.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.” You call Steve. The line rings a few times and then gets cut off by his voicemail. That’s weird, you think. Steve always answers his phone.

“You sure you don’t need that ride home?” Bucky offers again, nodding back towards a shiny, black Suzuki motorcycle. At this point, you had two options. One: (for some ungodly reason) trusting Bucky, and taking his offer. Two: making the attempt to walk the nearly-a-mile walk home during the late hours of the night in the cold. Dammit.

“Fine, I’ll take the ride. But you have to bring me to my place, nowhere else. It may not look like it, but I promise I could bust your jaw open.” You brush past him, heading towards the bike.

“There’s the attitude I’ve been waitin’ for,” Bucky’s laugh resonates through the parking lot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He hands you a helmet then ties his hair back into a low bun.

“I knew there was a little kick in you.” He swings a leg over his bike. “Hop on.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You did have a few beers.” You hesitate for a moment, really starting to regret trusting him with driving you home.

“I had two, and I don’t get drunk, doll.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Just trust me.”

You sigh and swing your leg over, grabbing onto his shoulders to balance yourself.

“I live down the street to the left. 3847.”

“Got it,” he starts the bike and it quietly roars to life. As he starts to drive out of the lot, you unknowingly scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. A delightful warmth radiated from him, and even under his layers of clothes, you could still feel just how toned his muscles were.

You got home just fine and headed in for the night after thanking Bucky and giving him back his helmet. He even convinced you to let him add his number to your contacts, ‘just in case’. You even gave him your number, too.  

When you got inside your apartment, you went straight to your room, ready to collapse in your bed and sleep. You tossed your purse onto your pillow and plopped chest-down on the bed, gently bouncing a few times. Your phone chimes in your purse, and you dig it out in hopes that it was Steve with an explanation as to why he hadn’t answered you in your dire time of need.

Instead, it was just an e-mail notification.

You sigh and roll off the bed to slip into something more comfortable. You opt for a large t-shirt and some boy shorts, then climb into bed, letting yourself drift away into a deep sleep.  

A sharp knock jolts you from your slumber. Rubbing away the hazy sleep from your eyes, you look at your phone for the time. 3:17 a.m. Whatever this is, it better be fucking good.

You groan loudly and throw back your blankets, the cool air of the room delicately kissing your warm skin. More knocking sounds throughout the apartment.

“Coming!” You holler as you walk down the hallway and to your living room. You open the door and find Steve standing with his hands in his pockets. “Steve? It’s like, three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“Just checkin’ up on you,” he mutters. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah, totally,” you move aside, letting him walk through the doorway. He stands a few feet away from you, watching as you gently close and relock the door. “What’s up?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Are you okay?” His face is laced with pure worry. “I saw your car was still in the lot. How’d you get home?”

“O-Oh, uh, my dumbass locked my keys in the car,” you chuckle, trying to lighten his mood. “So, I got a ride home from a friend, after someone didn’t answer his phone.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t get any calls,” his brows knit together in confusion.

“I tried calling you, but it just rung a few times and then went to voicemail, so I figured you were just busy. I mean, you left the bar in a hurry, anyway. Are you sure that you’re okay, Stevie? You started acting weird when Bucky -”

“I’m acting weird? You’re the one that just disappeared with a stranger!” His voice raises a level as it takes on a slightly accusatory tone.

“Yeah, after you didn’t answer!” You huff. “I’m a big girl, Stevie. If I didn’t feel safe with getting a ride from Bucky, then I wouldn’t have gone.”

“I’ve been looking for you for hours, and you didn’t think to try and call back again? When Jared said you drove off with some guy he had never seen before, I nearly had a heart attack! You can’t just do that to me.”

“Dammit Steve, stop acting like you’re my mother!” You storm passed him and into the kitchen.

“I just worry about you, Y/N, and I really don’t trust that guy. He seems really sketchy,” he adds as he trails you into your kitchen.

“Well I’m obviously alive, aren’t I?” You yank open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of chilled water. “Besides, if you were so worried and spent hours looking for me, why didn’t you think to check here first?”

“Because you drove off with that asshole and -”

“His name is Bucky, and to be honest, he’s been nicer to me than you’ve been for the past eight hours, and I really don’t appreciate you waking me up at three in the morning just to fucking yell at me!”

Steve doesn’t respond for a few moments. He just leans back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling.

“I just need to protect you, Y/N,” he whispers, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I don’t need your protection, Stevie. I can handle myself.” You tightly grab the bottle, waiting for his next response. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, Steve.” You storm off past him and down the hallway to your room, kicking the door shut behind you. You wait until you hear him open and close your front door to climb back under the covers of your bed, setting the still-unopened bottle of water on your nightstand. You roll over and lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as sleep now feels impossible since your thoughts were now riled up. You release a deep groan and throw an arm over your eyes.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You bolt up in bed, heart beginning to race as you look around the room for the source of the voice. It sounds like Bucky’s again, but more distant. There’s no way he could be in your apartment, so you settle on it being a combination of your raging thoughts and wild imagination. What the hell is happening to me.

PART TWO

Tags: @buckyisloved @awinterloveuniverse @isaxhorror @hollycornish @bexboo616 @superwholockian5ever @queendarkmuffin @theraputicwritings @asouthsideserpent @captainfbffangirl99 @randyortontattoos

[oneshot-twoshot-redshot-blueshot]

The ‘Trouble’ With Going Out

Requested

*Steve Rogers-centric

______________________________________________________________

Steve didn’t like going out.

It’s not because he was anti-social (though large groups did intimidate him somewhat… and strangers did have the pesky habit of coming up to him asking for autographs).

It was because anytime he went out with you, he risked losing you.

Your beauty was average to most, but your innocent personality tended to draw the eye. Men—large, hulking men, usually—would approach you and try to whisper sweet nothings to you. They would try to prove that you should leave with them, tell you all the sweet things they would do for (and to) you.

You were often too polite to tell them off. You would look about in a frantic, trying to find Steve or Tony or Thor or Natasha, anyone who could rip the guy away as if he weighed no more than a tissue.

Tonight was no different.

Tony had insisted you go out. “We’ve been stuck in this tower too long,” he said. “I feel like Rapunzel, which sucks. I’m obviously Flynn.”

No one else in the group wanted to go out, so you and Steve were roped into going (someone had to look after Tony, after all).

Tony, being Tony, picked the most crowded club in the city. Neither you nor Steve particularly liked clubs (far too loud), but you found a quiet(ish) corner to settle into.

Steve kept a protective arm around your shoulders, the two of you sipping on cocktails. The crowd bumped and gyrated around you. PDA was as heavy as the cigarette smoke in the air; the multicolored lasers flashed around making you feel as though you were stuck in a kaleidoscope.

After a few hours, you and Steve were more than ready to leave.

“I’m going to go find Tony,” Steve said, practically shouting in your ear to be heard over the music. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. Steve had been gone no more than thirty seconds before a stranger took his place on the couch.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the man said. “What do you say you and I go someplace a little quieter?”

You shook your head, trying to fold in on yourself. The man didn’t take the hint and scooted closer, his arm draping over you like Steve’s had.

“Come on,” the guy said. “I know a great little place around the corner. They charge by the hour, but I know the manager and he cuts me a deal—two for the price of one.”

‘As if you really need two hours,’ you thought.

The guy continued to crowd you, his alcohol-laced breath suffocating you.

And then, suddenly, the air was clear.

Looking up, you saw Steve yelling at the man, tossing him away from you. Then he reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you up and out of the club. Tony followed, some floozy girl on his arm.

______________________________________________________________

You liked going out.

Well, not really. Mass quantities of alcohol and people and loud music weren’t really your forte.

But you liked how Steve acted when you got home.

You didn’t understand it, but for some reason, all the seediest guys seemed to flock to you when you were out (excluding Steve). Steve would get all macho and protective, showing everyone who you belonged to (in his somewhat quiet Steve way).

But when you got home… best sex ever.

Steve was usually soft and gentle, but when he felt threatened, he turned into that hardened, war-torn soldier. He commanded your attention, demanded your body. He never pushed you past any limit you had, never barked an order at you. The two of you simply bonded with more fire than before.

Tonight was no different.

You barely made it into the bedroom before Steve’s… everything was all over you. His lips trailed down your neck, his fingers pulled at your clothes, his scent filled your nostrils, his pulse pounded beneath your fingers.

You let him take control, set the pace. The two of you fell onto the bed, never losing touch with the other. Clothes were ripped away, heated skin meeting cool air.

It was on these nights that Steve chanted those three words that you so desperately needed: I love you, I love you, I love you.

When it was all over and the two of you were laying in the dark, trying to catch your breath, Steve repeated the chant. He waited until your breathing evened out; his arm held you close to his chest, your hearts beating in time.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, his lips would brush against your forehead. “I love you,” he would whisper, his voice so quiet you often wondered if he said it or not.

It wouldn’t have mattered if he said it. You loved hearing Steve say it, but he never needed to; you knew it, you felt it.

[rentscoot]

Municipales dans les Pyréneés-Orientales : tour d’horizon en Roussillon

À dix semaines du premier tour de l’élection municipale, décryptages des points chauds sur le département. 

Perpignan

Perpignan – L’Indépendant – Nicolas Parent

Si les candidats ont jusqu’au 27 février pour officialiser leur démarche en préfecture, le casting dans la capitale est connu. Huit candidats devraient concourir à condition qu’ils déposent à temps des listes paritaires de 55 noms. On retrouvera le maire LR sortant Jean-Marc Pujol, deux députés avec Romain Grau (LREM) et Louis Aliot (RN), le conseiller municipal LR Olivier Amiel, la vice-présidente EELV de la Région Agnès Langevine, la centriste sans étiquette Clotilde Ripoull mais aussi Caroline Forgues pour la liste citoyenne. Alexandre Bolo, ancien attaché parlementaire de Louis Aliot mais aujourd’hui fâché avec son ancien employeur, devrait compléter une offre politique à droite particulière dense. 

Argelès-sur-Mer

L’incertitude plane autour de l’identité du futur maire de la station balnéaire. Même fragilisé par la crise qui a secoué sa majorité municipale, Antoine Parra, ancien socialiste, demain sans étiquette, devrait se déclarer dans les prochains jours. Face à lui, la droite espère profiter de la situation pour ravir une commune qui penche de son côté lors des scrutins nationaux, mais à gauche lors des votes locaux. À la tête d’une liste d’union de la gauche appuyée par l’ancien maire socialiste Pierre Aylagas, Charles Campigna veut croire que la victoire est possible. Dans son combat, il a reçu le soutien du PRG Guy Esclopé qui devrait figurer en très bonne place sur la liste, ainsi qu’Europe Ecologie les Verts, mais pas des communistes qui espèrent plutôt la poussée d’une autre liste à gauche. 

Collioure

Collioure – L’INDEPENDANT Independant – Archives

Seule certitude dans la commune du fauvisme, un nouveau maire prendra ses fonctions en mars prochain puisque Jacques Manya, premier magistrat depuis 2014, a décidé de ne pas se représenter. Ancien directeur général des services de la mairie de Collioure (1989-2008), Guy Llobet est pour le moment le seul à s’être déclaré alors qu’aucun candidat de la majorité sortante ne s’est signalé faisant dire à certains qu’elle fera l’impasse sur ce scrutin. Sans certitude.Tête de liste sans étiquette, Guy Llobet n’est pas soutenu officiellement par le Parti socialiste mais l’ancien maire PS de la cité, Michel Moly, et la fédération ne font pas mystère de leur soutien.  

Céret

Une nouvelle ère va s’ouvrir à Céret puisque après 19 ans de règne, Alain Torrent quittera son fauteuil de maire. Pour l’heure, trois listes se constituent. L’une qui sera conduite par le 2e adjoint Patrick Puigmal avec le soutien, certes pas des plus marqués, de la majorité sortante. Le conseiller municipal d’opposition Michel Coste devrait lui aussi se présenter, alors que l’ancien président régional de la fédération du bâtiment Jean-Jacques Planes, président du collectif Non à la THT il y a plus de dix ans, se lance pour la première fois en première ligne dans la course électorale. 

Saint-Laurent-de-la-Salanque

François Lietta, le protégé de l’ancien député-maire Fernand Siré, a pris son envol et laboure le terrain depuis plusieurs mois dans l’optique de ravir le fauteuil de maire occupé depuis 2014 par le centriste Alain Got. Un duel semble se dessiner entre l’ancien président de la fédération des LR et le premier magistrat sortant surtout que le Rassemblement national n’a toujours pas fait connaître ses intentions dans cette commune où ses scores frôlent régulièrement les 40 %. À défaut de candidats, soutiendra-t-il François Lietta dont la ligne politique très droitière intéresse le leader frontiste Louis Aliot ? Réponse début janvier. 

Amélie-les-Bains

Élu très largement (60 %) en 2014 dans un duel qui l’opposait au premier tour à Annick Barboteu (DVD), Alexandre Raynal aura davantage fort à faire cette fois-ci. Et pour cause, si sa concurrente de 2014, repartira bel et bien à la tête d’une liste de la droite décomplexée, une troisième équipe s’est lancée avec à sa tête Marie Costa. L’ancienne directrice de la culture de la Ville de Perpignan a reçu d’ailleurs le soutien de Jean-Paul Alduy dont sa mère, Jacqueline, disparue en 2016, a régné sur la ville thermale durant un demi-siècle. 

Prades

Un boulevard pour Jean Castex ? Malgré un emploi du temps digne d’un ministre – le maire est président de l’intercommunalité, conseiller départemental et délégué aux jeux Olympiques et Paralympiques Paris 2024 – le premier magistrat sortant sera candidat pour un troisième mandat. Face à lui, la gauche a trouvé son candidat en la personne de Nicolas Berjoan, secrétaire départemental des Verts. Ce dernier a reçu le soutien des deux candidats de 2014, opposés à Jean Castex, mais qui n’avaient pas empêché l’élection nette, 70 % dès le premier tour, de l’ancien secrétaire général adjoint de l’Elysée.

Ils arrêtent, ils repartent : le point de la situation des maires sortants

Ces maires qui jettent l’écharpe

Hélène Josende (Angoustrine), René Bantoure (Arles-sur-Tech), Nicole Villard-Schlatter (Le Boulou), Bernard Dupont (Canet-en-Roussillon), Jean-Claude Portella (Cerbère), Alain Torrent (Céret), Serge Juanchich (Codalet), Jacques Manya (Collioure), Michel Pigeon (Latour-de-France), Christian Vila (Oms), Daniel Mach (Pollestres), Yves Dourliach (Railleu), Francis Manent (Saint-André), Raymond Lopez (Saint-Génis-des-Fontaines), Pierre Roig (Sainte-Marie), Jean-Marie Bosch (Serralongue), Bernard Loupien (Taurinya), Jean Amouroux (Tresserre). 

Ces maires qui veulent garder l’écharpe

Jean-André Magdalou (Alènya), Alexandre Reynal (Amélie-les-Bains), Eric Izar (Ansignan), Patrick Got (Baho), Gilles Foxonet (Baixas), Jean-Michel Solé (Banyuls-sur-Mer), Jean Vila (Cabestany), Théophile Martinez (Cases-de-Pene), Gérard Soler (Corbère-les-Cabanes), Bernard Gros (Entveig), Philippe Fourcade (Espira-de-l’Agly), Laurent Leygue (Estavar), Joseph Montessino (Eus), William Burghoffer (Ille-sur-Têt), Christian Naute (Laroque-des-Albères), Damienne Beffara (Millas), Louis Sala (Montescot), Huguette Pons (Montesquieu-des-Albères), Jean-Louis Jallat (Olette), Raymond Pla (Ortaffa), Roger Ciurana (Osséja), Patrick Bellegarde (Passa), Jean-Marc Pujol (Perpignan), Michel Maffre (Pia), Rolland Thubert (Ponteilla), Jean-Pierre Romero (Port-Vendres), Jean Castex (Prades), Paul Foussat (Rasiguères), Jean Maury (Ria-Sirach), Charles Baille (Rodès), Robert Vila (Saint-Estève), Roger Garrido (Saint-Féliu-d’Avall), Philippe Xancho (Saint-Jean-Laseille), Alain Got (Saint-Laurent-de-la-Salanque), François Rallo (Saleilles), Armelle Revel (Le Soler), Yves Porteix (Sorède), René Olive (Thuir), Marc Medina (Torreilles), Francis Gantou (Ur), Christian Nifosi (Villelongue-dels-Monts), Jacqueline Irles (Villeneuve-de-la-Raho), Patrick Pascal (Villeneuve-de-la-Rivière). 

  Article Originale : Source

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[harvest-honeymoon]

More mobsters for y'all!!

We have Sarbello ‘Pretty Boy’ Besesi (the big fella), Roger 'Scoots’ Forte (bless u @maple-smoked-dicc for his design) and Boone 'Chicago’ Petit (one of @ack-crab’s coats)!! They all work for a fae mob and are part of Nick’s first case after selling his soul, they kidnap children for a living, and there’ll be more to come

[rentscoot]

Déferlantes, Live au Campo : « Les deux plus beaux festivals du Monde ! » sont dans les P.-O.

C’est David Garcia, un brin chauvin, qui l’affirme alors que s’avance le festival des Déferlantes d’Argelès-sur-Mer (du 5 au 8 juillet au château de Valmy) et que se profile celui de Live au Campo (du 19 au 24 juillet à Perpignan). Deux événements phares de l’été musical en pays catalan qu’il produit avec la Frontera Productions. Rencontre.

A quelques jours du coup d’envoi de vos deux festivals, où en êtes-vous des réservations ?

On est dans le bon timing. La première soirée des Déferlantes est presque complète, celle du 8 pas loin et les autres dates se remplissent sûrement. On est sur le droit fil de l’édition 2018, qui avait été excellente.

Et concernant le Campo Santo ?

C’est un peu plus compliqué mais c’est encore loin… Après un programmation 2018 « grand public », nous avons voulu cette 4e édition plus « jazz » avec Ibrahim Maalouf, Melody Gardot… C’était notre volonté d’apporter cette touche là à côté de Pascal Obispo, B’52 et Joan Baez. Et ce sera magnifique. C’est aussi notre rôle de proposer au public perpignanais autre chose, mais toujours de qualité, dans ce lieu fabuleux. La municipalité nous a fait confiance et on travaille en totale harmonie avec elle.

C’est une belle aventure qui apporte beaucoup à la ville en terme de notoriété. La seule véritable difficulté réside dans le format, ramassé dans le temps, de ce festival qui ne cadre pas toujours avec le calendrier des artistes. Peut-être faudra-t-il faire évoluer les dates ou bien le format, pourquoi pas avec des concerts plus espacés dans le temps… Rien n’est exclu et les discussions sont ouvertes pour amener le Campo Santo plus loin. Les perspectives sont infinies.

Le festival Voix de femmes, l’Electro Beach et même le festival de Carcassonne… La concurrence n’est-elle pas trop rude cet été ?

Non, c’est vrai que l’offre s’est diversifiée mais chacun a trouvé sa place. La seule chose qui nous posait problème, c’est que nous sommes face à ces organisateurs « municipaux » et qu ‘en tant que « privés », la lutte est quelque fois inégale… Mais avec le temps, nous avons prouvé que nous étions de vrais professionnels et là où d’autres trébuchent, nous, nous continuons à avancer, doucement mais sûrement et avec le même degré d’exigence. Nous travaillons toute l’année pour ça et nous avons la chance d’organiser deux événements de qualité, dans des sites extraordinaires. On est envié, jalousé et même critiqué pour cela mais c’est notre fierté et on continue d’avancer, sereinement. Nous avons les deux plus beaux festivals du monde ! Avec les Déferlantes à Valmy, nous avons notre Zénith et avec Live au Campo, nous avons notre théâtre. Bref, avec 25 ans d’expérience dans ce métier, nous avons atteint l’âge de la sagesse et une vraie sérénité. Et le public nous en est reconnaissant je crois.

Vous avez créé la sensation en annonçant la venue du phénomène Aya Nakamura le 8 juillet à Argelès confirmant ainsi une évolution dans vos choix…

Oui, ce sont des choix que l’on assume même si pour être honnête, ce n’est pas vraiment ce que je préfère. Mais Les Déferlantes appartiennent au public et pas à moi, sinon, il n’y aurait que des groupes ska et punk qui s’y produiraient (rires). Il faut tenir compte de cette demande et de ces nouvelles tendances musicales pour que le festival garde sa vocation de rendez-vous familial, tous publics, où se mélangent tous les genres musicaux, de ZZ Top à Patrick Bruel. Dans un département où il n’y a pas de grande salle de concerts comme les Zénith, il est indispensable de répondre aux attentes des spectateurs si on ne veut pas qu’ils aillent voir ailleurs…

Guerre ouverte contre la « contrebande » de billets

  Membre du syndicat Prodis, la Frontera Prod tente de lutter contre la revente illégale sur des plateformes internet de billets. Explications : « Il faut savoir que légalement, les sites internet ne peuvent pas vendre des places de concert sans l’autorisation des organisateurs. Or, certains sites le font allégrement, souvent à des prix majorés, et sans garanties pour le client qui au final se retrouve lésé. Ce sont des sites souvent très bien référencés et les gens y vont sans réaliser qu’ils se font de l’argent sur leur dos, et le nôtre. Des procès groupés sont en cours, certains ont déjà été gagnés, mais le combat est difficile car il faut remonter jusqu’à ceux qui se cachent derrière ces sociétés basées on ne sait où ».

Mais les Déferlantes ont également dû faire face à une concurrence plus insidieuse, la vente sur le marché noir des billets : « Il y a quelques années, on s’est en effet aperçu que des gens peu regardants allaient même jusqu’à revendre des invitations à des prix souvent plus élevés que celui du ticket d’entrée ! Nous y avons remédié et désormais les billets sont nominatifs. Après, il y a ceux qui font flamber les prix quand les dates affichent complet… On n’empêchera pas les gens de revendre leurs billets au prix de vente ou moins cher mais si nous constatons des abus flagrants, à grande échelle, nous pouvons engager des procédures judiciaires. Les contrevenants encourent de fortes peines d’amende et il faut savoir que l’on peut bloquer leurs Pass à l’entrée ».

J.M.S.

           Les Têtes d’affiche des Déferlantes Vendredi 5 juillet : -M- , Bigflo & Oli, Jain, Delgrès, Dadju, Feder, Samedi 6 juillet : ZZ Top, Patrick Bruel, Zaz, Boulevard des Airs, La Pietà Dimanche 7 juillet : B-52s, Supertramp’s Roger Hodgson, Iam, Nekfeu, Therapie Taxi, Gringe, Didirri Lundi 8 juillet : Thirty seconds to Mars, Macklemore, Aya Nakamura, John Butler Trio, Dionysos, Trust, Raggasonic…

Article Originale : Source

Cet article Déferlantes, Live au Campo : « Les deux plus beaux festivals du Monde ! » sont dans les P.-O. est apparu en premier sur Rent Scoot - Argelès-sur-Mer.

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