#tastes-like-fondue-and-metal

[starryficsfinishwen]

picnic days and sundays — gray raven x reader

Summer was kinder.

Warm sunshine through the gaps of trees, tiny birds perched on tree branches singing their lovely songs. Sunlight kisses your face as you look at the green foliage above you. You watch. You watch as a leaf falls so slowly in this space, visible veins as the rays of light pass through.

It lands on your cheek. And a familiar hand comes into view, gently brushing it away.

“Commandant,” Bright eyes peer to look at you, pink irises glimmering in the sunshine, “Are you awake?”

You remember it this way: sleeping soundly in the shade, the smell of warm grass, the lull of the summer wind on your bare feet. And now, you are on Liv's lap, mechanical hands wrapped around your own.

Liv's petiteness perfectly cradled your sleeping figure. Was it the cool breeze, or did her hands, once clad in gloves, somehow feel warm as you held hers? A fleeting kind, one that made you reach out for more.

“Mmh...” you inhale, eyes fluttering shut as you feel the remnants of sleep coming again, “No...not yet.”

You notice a broader figure blocking out the bright light through your closed eyes. Opening your eyes, a figure draped in the gentle colors of blue comes into view.

“Sorry,” cooed Lee, voice devoid of any trace of roughness, “The sun must have been preventing you from sleeping.”

Lee's stoicism faded away in this space. Devoid of any armor and metal, you notice the new clothes as a new sight, yet the warm twinkle in his cerulean eyes makes your heart throb.

“It's okay,” you giggle, reaching for Lee's hand, “I feel better.”

“You should eat up, Commandant,” said a honeyed voice, “At least you'd get to eat something yummy!”

A metal finger caresses your chin. Looking above you, hazel eyes looking at you with love.

“Lucia,” you grin, “What's there for me, then?”

Your summer comes that way. Lee helps you sit up, with Liv and Lucia preparing the food they've brought. Across the patterned cloth, a variety of treats are displayed for you. The colors—purple, red, blue, and more—popping through, which made your stomach want a taste. Seeing you drool, Lucia graciously takes a slice out of one in her view.

“Would you like this, Commandant?” She asks,

A blueberry tart, the bluest you've ever seen. When you try to reach for it, Live gently slaps your hand away.

“In moderation, Commandant.” She tuts, “I can't have you overeating.”

“Don't worry about it, Liv,” Lee laughs, “The Commandant can't possibly be overweight within a day with these.”

Taking a strawberry from the pile, Lee dips it halfway into the chocolate fondue, before taking it to your lips, “Say 'ah' for me.”

With a bite, you taste the freshness of the strawberry, seeping into your parched tongue. A burst of sweetness dances wildly in your mouth, making you sigh from the taste.

“That's true,” Liv pouts, “But I want the Commandant to be healthy as always...”

“It'd be a shame if I can't taste what you've prepared for us, Liv.” You smiled, chewing the remaining strawberry as you pat her hand, “Let's have fun today.”

You want this kind of freedom. Somewhere, across the world—no Babylonia, no one to give you orders, and no one ruining your peace. You are perfectly contented this way, away from their eyes and only with your beloved family.

Family...

“If you think of it that way, I suppose we are one.”

You turn to find Lee looking at the sunset. You forget how much time has passed, or the sweets and delicacies you've consumed. Except now, Lucia and Liv are putting away the plates and cleaning up the mess.

“Lee?”

“A family.” Lee affirms, turning to look at you with a gentle look on your face, “We are...a family, right?”

You sigh. “We are. But...this war against time, against humanity and its efforts to come back...”

You think. The war is never over; millions of corrupted still run amock in your lands, humanity's last bastion who still floats somewhere in space—will it be any worth?

“I understand your fear.”

Lee's logic is never wrong. So was his calculated reply. But as you look back to Liv and Lucia, something crawls over you, latching at whatever vein you had in your chest.

“If there comes a time,” you quietly mutter, “Do you...still consider this as a family?”

Lucia is the first to look at you. Blissfully unaware, you hope neither of them heard you.

“I-”

“Commandant, did you have fun today?” Lucia finds comfort in the way you reach out to hold her hand, “If you weren't satisfied, we'll find a new thing to do again next time.”

“I had fun, Lucia.” You grin at her, hoping your sincerity is noticeable enough, “I loved the blueberry tart at best.”

“Lee, Liv, and I made it with you in mind,” she said as she blushes, “We're glad you loved it.”

Noticing the sun almost setting, you ask, “Does it mean we're going home now?”

“The fun isn't over yet.” Lee shakes his head, offering a smile, “Today isn't done.”

The smell of something warm. Looking back, you find Liv with a cup.

“Commandant,” She calls out your name, softly, “I hope today ends nicely.”

It's a cup of hot chocolate. You remember it as something the four of you had done the other day. Taking the cup from her, the anxiety in your chest starts to calm down. Watching your three members laugh and talk as the sun sets behind you, the bittersweet taste of chocolate on your tongue.

You would do everything to stay by their side.

“I promise I'll do better.” You blurt out, catching their attention, “I'm...not going to give up. I'll stay alive, I'll do everything for you, guys.”

Tears threaten to spill from your weary eyes, yet you still dare to smile at them. “We are the Gray Raven, and we're a...family.”

Your team—your Gray Raven—smiles back. Lucia is the first to hug you, following Liv. Briefly taking away the shaking cup in your hands, Lee hugs you. In a layer, like a glove, your tears began to fall from your eyes as your team hugs you tighter.

“You're doing so well, Commandant.” Lucia said, “You're the reason why we're here today.”

“That's really true,” chides Liv, “Without you, there wouldn't be an 'us'.”

“We'll save you, the same way you've saved us, too.” said Lee, “as long as you promise to stay alive, too.”

Peace is temporary, yet it seems to be forever in this space. Summer must have been kinder for you this time. Maybe this picnicon a Sunday wasn't too bad.

As long as you stay alive, too. Isn't that summer so pretty with them?

kuro keep my babies (and husband) safe or I'll throw these hands

(also did you notice my new format? hehehe)

—starry

[fairykukla]

I don't have to imagine this.

I was a goth, back before we called it "Goth". I'm one of those people with a night-owl circadian rhythm, so I'm not a big fan of daylight.

I'm not immortal, to my knowledge, though I haven't died yet.

But I was struck down with the Plague of 2020.

First, I had a mild fever. By the time I got my positive test results, I had completely lost my sense of smell. No smell at all. I could taste sugar, but not vanilla. Salt, but not corn chips. Bitterness, but not coffee or chocolate. Sour, but not citrus or fruits.

Bacon was revolting. Nothing but fat and salt. Meat was uninteresting. Peanut butter tasted like nothingness. Bread was texture only. I found that cheese and olives were pretty tasty, still. Tea tasted like dirty water.

One day, I popped open a sparkling water and smelled citrus. Just for a moment, then it was gone. Soon I was able to smell oranges and lemons and grapefruit. Hot cocoa was a strange experience; it was creamy and sweet but there was no chocolate flavor to enjoy.

I started huffing the spice cabinet.

Some smells were faint, some absent, and some were... Very wrong. There wre "new" smells, randomly assigned. Sometimes I would get the strangest sensation, which I called a 404 error. I'd sniff something, and my brain would say, "This has a smell." I didn't know what it smelled like, only that there was an odor happening

Two months after my illness, we had fondue. It was gross. I kept trying different things but it was all just unpleasant. The Swiss cheese smelled like ozone and burning metal, sort of. The chocolate was like a tire fire.

I started to live on smoothies. Cooked food would nauseate me. I could manage most fruits, anything creamy, and certain breads.

And I discovered that the following things had a new smell. Something kind of like burning petrochemicals and rotting, rancid meat. Kind of like, "They're re-tarring the roof in the rendering plant in August."

Coffee

Chocolate

Peanut

Mint (including Basil)

Onions (cooked or raw)

And, if course, Garlic.

I haven't been able to smell garlic properly since November of 2020, and it's February of 2023. I can't even stand to walk in to most restaurants because there's going to be one or more of those smells happening aggressively.

I plan my route home during the summer so that I can pass by the fewest fast food places.

It's a cross contamination hazard. If garlic was cooking in the same kitchen, I have to leave my food outside to let it de-gas before I can eat it.

So yeah.

Vampire.

And I would do anything to be able to eat real food again.

The good news is that the neurological damage is mending itself, slowly. I get smells back periodically, like the basil and mint. Not all mint is ok yet, but I have great hope. I can eat basil again!

I just hope I live long enough to heal properly. I guess I need to look into the immortality thing, huh?

You have been turned into a vampire. You are now an ageless immortal, yet you are desperately trying to find a way to cure your condition for a single purpose. So you can eat garlic bread again.

[theunfairfolk]

Inktober: Flame

She stared at the massive jars of cheese puffs, arranged into a pyramid, as her mind struggled to catch up.

“Downsizing”. He had said. “Cutbacks. The company needs to blah blah you understand blah unfortunate circumstances blah.”

She had lost her job. A job she held for the better part of a decade, won awards for, and she’d just lost it. Over the phone. Standing in the middle of a goddamn Costco.

“Would you like to try one?” A kind voice asked her, interrupting the tears she hadn’t even noticed beginning to collect. She moved her gaze towards the source; a middle aged woman in an apron and hairnet, standing behind one of the fancier looking free-sample counters in the store.

A large fondue pot took up most of the setup, flanked by raised trays with a score of different dippable offerings, as well as jars of the fondue-forks, or whatever they were called. Underneath the pot was a bright orange flame, seeming to emanate from the table itself rather than the usual portable canister.

The woman was holding out a fork, already coated in the golden yellow sauce that was bubbling merrily, filling the air with a sudden mouthwatering aroma.

“They’re free.” The woman added, smiling so warmly that it was hard not to smile back.

“Uh, sure.” She reached out a hand and took the fork (spear?) from the woman, never one to turn down free food. Plus the whole thing had broken her chain of thought so abruptly it was genuinely funny.

“Sorry about the firing! Here! Have some cheese!”

It didn’t taste much like cheese though. It was savory and spicy with a fresh clean accent, like lamb with mint, but sharper, stranger. It was good-far better than a Costco handout had any right to be.

The taste lit up her sense memory, pulling her back to a few weeks before when she’d visited a friend, who was working as a chef at a local chain restaurant. He’d made them both dinner, hand pulled noodles, local vegetables, and a deliciously simple desert that she could no longer remember the name of. Afterwards, he’d propositioned her, not to share his bed, but to start a business. He had a little money saved up and wanted to open his own restaurant, but he was horrible with finances. That was where she came in.

She knew she was qualified, and she knew his skills were sound, but she hesitated, not wanting to step away from a stable paycheck to take such a gamble. She’d turned him down.

“Excuse me.” Another voice, far less kind, shook her once again from her thoughts. A man with a cart was trying to get to the cheese puffs. She stepped out of the way, turning to hand back the fondue fork to the woman at the stand, only to find that she’d vanished. After slowly rotating in place for far longer than she cared to admit, she had to acknowledge that either she’d imagined the woman altogether, or she’d somehow blacked out in between walking away from the stand and ending up at the cheese puffs. But hadn’t she been here before she saw the woman?

She stared at the slim pronged metal in her hand, and pulled out her phone once more, dialing her friend’s number as she headed to the exit.

“Hey.” She gripped the fork tightly. “About your restaurant idea… are you free tonight? I have some things I want to ask.”

[wtnrscap]

Cursed Words- Epilogue

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton, mentions of past Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes.

Summary- Bucky decides it’s time to go all the way.

Warnings-  (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- Last chapter, end of this series. Defiantly sad to say goodbye to my first ever series, maybe I’ll rewrite it if I’m still around in a few years time. The GIF below is how I imagine Bucky to look in this final chapter.

This chapter is smut. I said there’d be a smutty chapter, and here it is. It’s probably badly written and very short but it’s what I’ve come out with. Taglist is now closed.

Cursed Words Masterlist

Bucky stares at you with wide, lustful eyes as you move around the kitchen. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since the rest of the Avengers left the compound almost hour ago. You know what he wants but you’re dragging it out, trying to see how long he’ll last.

Bucky is finding it incredibly hard. He’d gone downstairs to see everyone out, teased Steve about fonduing and turned around to see you. You were sporting pyjamas with black and white flannel bottoms and a large black sweater with the words ‘Bucky Barnes Protection Squad’. Bucky’s face had gone bright red and you’d burst out laughing. Now here you both were, in the kitchen as you fixed pudding.

“Hungry, Barnes?” you ask, sliding a bowl of melted chocolate and a plate of strawberries across the table. He nods his head, eyes sliding down your body. You smirk, crooking your finger under his chin, “Eyes up top, soldier!”

Bucky’s eyes slide down again, “You know your sweater is wrong. I don’t have a protection squad.”

“You do now. I’m the leader!” you dip a strawberry into the chocolate and lift it to your mouth, sucking on it seductively. Bucky’s mouth hangs open slightly before he shakes his head, “I don’t deserve a protection squad. Besides, I’m the boyfriend, I’m supposed to protect you!”

“You know very well that I don’t need protecting Barnes. Not hungry?”

“Not for this...” Bucky pushes the bowl away and stands, walking around the counter, his hands wrapping around your waist, lifting you onto the counter. Your face contorts, “Not here!”

“Why not? There’s no one else here. Friday? Turn off cameras and mics, please and thank you.”

You barely have time to relent before the flannel bottoms are lying abandoned on the floor, leaving you in black lace. Steeping between your legs, Bucky growls and you giggle, “Not messing around, are you?”

“Do you want me to? Would you rather I tease you? Make you beg?”

“No...Please... B-Bucky...”

His metal fingers dip into the lace, grazing over your folds and fuck, how are you this wet already?

His fingers move slightly, stroking, teasing, and you groan. You dare to look at him and see him smirking, “Feel good?”

“Would be better if you hurry shit up!”

Bucky chuckles and removes his fingers, earning a whine from you. The lace is off in seconds and his head pressed to your lower stomach, peppering kiss southward. Lower... lower... lower...

“Fuck!”

Bucky doesn’t mess around, he decides he’s waited too long for that and dives right in, licking, sucking, nipping, drinking in your taste, smell, getting intoxicated and receiving that drunken buzz he’s so missed. He wants it all, everything you can give him and more.

You can’t think straight as your back arches off the table, you hand gripping his short hair. Everything kinda happened fast and you’re still half-dressed while Bucky is still fully dressed. Bucky mumbles something..., “You’re so good... Cum for me... Shit... You taste like...”

You jolt forward and moan his name loudly. The clinking of the dog tags alerts Bucky and he looks, your wetness dripping from his chin, his eyes dark and lustful, and yet, there is love and desire there too. After almost half an hour, he realises, he just wants to go slow again, make love to you. Foreplay can wait for another day.

-

“We don’t have to do this...” Bucky mutters, carrying you to his room. Along the way, you lost the sweater and Bucky lost... well, Bucky lost everything.  His clothes are gone, his head is gone and so is his heart. You giggle, “After that little show, you don’t wanna go any further? Wow...”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“And you won’t... The words are gone, the arm is fully functional and makes me slightly horny. What more do you want?”

“I want you.”

“I want you too...” you squeal as Bucky drops you onto his bed and clambers over you. Time seems to be moving strangely. Back in the kitchen, everything was quick and hot, then the journey to the bedroom was slow and gentle, and now, the pace seemed to have upped again. 

Bucky presses kiss along your jaw, to your lips, down your neck and back to your lips as he pumps himself, rubbing his tip against your folds, collecting your slick. You both groan as he pushes in, you tipping your head back, gasping.

Bucky moans, trying to keep his eyes open, wanting to see every face you make, hear every noise, memorize this moment forever. He allows a moment for you to adjust, before moving, slowly at first, wanting to feel everything, but getting faster, unable to hold back his desire.

You grip his arm as he rocks against you, sweating and crying out, “Bucky... Bucky... James!”

“I’m right here, doll, shit... I’ve got you...”

“I’m so close...”

“I know, I know... Cum for me, doll, cum for me!”

Bucky hips snap forward, his thrusts getting sloppy as you cry out his name, his head burrowing into your neck. He doesn’t care he’s not wearing a condom, he doesn’t care that he doesn’t know if you’re on birth control, he just focuses on the way his cum coats you, filling you and making you scream...

“Bucky... Bucky... You weigh a ton... Bucky!” you gasp and Bucky rolls of you with a huff, pulling out of you with a groan, “You saying I’m fat, doll?”

“No. I’m saying you weigh a ton. There’s a difference.”

“Not really...” 

You sigh, reaching out your arm, opening your hand. Bucky’s fingers trace your arm, reaching your hand and closing around it, “Was it good for you? Did I do good?”

You tilt your head round to see Bucky with a blush, “Don’t be getting all shy on me now, Barnes. You are a perfect lover. Top service.”

“Good. You should sleep. I wore you out, yeah?”

“Don’t be cocky.”

Bucky smirks before leaning his head against yours, “I love you, Y/N...”

“I love you too, Bucky...”

-

Steve peeks around the door of the kitchen and screws his eyes up at the sight of the table, “They’re not here but their bodily fluids are. Oh, that’s disgusting!”

“At least we know someone got lucky tonight!” chirps Tony brightly, “Bucky’s going to be a very happy boy over the next few days.”

“Maybe that means he’ll go lightly on me in training!” smiles Sam but Natasha shakes her head, “You’re gonna have to set ground rules, Tony, they won’t be able to keep their hands off each other after this.”

“Maybe I should just give them a whole floor...” muses Tony. A chuckle erupts from behind them, making the Avengers jump. Bucky walks in without shirt, you following behind with messy hair, “What do you think, doll? Like the idea of a whole floor towards ourselves?”

“Oh yeah, you could make me scream all night and no one would hear...”

“I could do even more than that...” Bucky chuckles and the Avengers wince at the look on his face. Bucky throws some side-eye towards them, “I’ll even show you if you want...”

“Oh yeah, I like that idea...” you and Bucky burst into laughter as the Avengers scream, tripping over each other to run from the room. Steve and Tony fall face forward on the floor, Sam knocks himself out the door, Wanda and Nat crash into each other while Vision, Bruce and Thor run into the living room. 

“I love you, Barnes...”

“If every day is like this, then yes, I love you too, Y/N.”

You frown and slap his arm sharply, pulling a belt of laughter from him.

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

[dancerdiaries]

Guys. Consider. A ballet class music album but with hard rock/gothic rock/metal covers.

So, there are lots of ballet music albums made up of piano covers of pop songs. And I love those a lot!

But like...sometimes you just wanna do grand allegro to “Lacrymosa” by Evanescence.

And there’s no existing ballet music version of “Lacrymosa” by Evanescence.

Someone needs to change that.

I present my ideas for a hard rock ballet music collection:

Triple meter:

*some of these aren’t originally triples, but I imagine they can work as triples)

Broken - Seether ft. Amy Lee (pirouette) Lacrymosa - Evanescence (grand allegro, grand pirouette) Bring Me to Life - Evanescence (pirouette) Lithium - Evanescence (rond de jambe) Mordred's Lullaby - Heather Dale (pirouette) One More Day - Noctura (absolutely a grand allegro) Speak to Me - Amy Lee (rond de jambe) Somewhere - Within Temptation (pirouette) Shot in the Dark - Within Temptation (grand allegro)

Duple meter:

Breathe No More - Evanescence (adage/rdj) Angels - Within Temptation (tendu) All That I'm Living For - Evanescence (petit battement) Everybody's Fool - Evanescence (slow tendu) Familiar Taste of Poison - Halestorm (fondu, as a tango) Forgiven - Within Temptation (stretch) Going Under - Evanescence (fondu) Good Enough - Evanescence (tendu) Make a Move - Icon for Hire (petit battement) Pieces - Icon for Hire (petit allegro) Shot in the Dark - Within Temptation (grand battement) Hero - Skillet (coda) Sinead - Within Temptation (tendu) The Change - Evanescence (degage) Weight of the World - Evanescence (would easily make a good tango for fondus, pirouettes) Where the Lonely Ones Roam - Digital Daggers (tendu) Riot - Three Days Grace (grand battement) Silent Scream - Anna Blue (degage) Like You - Evanescence (tendu) Imperfection - Evanescence (petit allegro) Fade - Noctura (grand battement) In the End - Linkin Park (warm-up jump) Amaranthine - Amaranthe (quick tendu, petit allegro) The Truth Beneath the Rose - Within Temptation (grand battement)

[janusthesneakysnakeboi]

Moments from the new Sanders ASides video that had me screaming (or really, me screaming about the new video)

“RAIIIIID”

*Raid Thomas sounding like Roman/Remus*

“You bet your shiny metal AX”

“MASCULINITY IS A PRISON”

“Why do I pay for a membership if I still gotta watch the ads?”

THE FACT THAT THEY ALL ARE WEARING ONESIES EXCEPT THOMAS AND LOGAN BECAUSE LOGAN IS SERIOUS BOI AND THOMAS WELL,,, IS THOMAS

Also ROMAN CANONICALLY HAS LEGS***

ROMAN HAS ALL THE PILLOWS

VIRGIL IS SITTING ON A SURFACE THAT ISN’T MEANT TO BE SAT ON BUT IS SO RELATABLE BECAUSE I DO THAT EXACT THING WHAT

“Unless our problem is a hungry alligator-” “A remote possibility for a Florida dwelling man who never leaves his house”

Roman rigging the votes so it’s just Frozen and Patton is okay with that (WAIT BUT WHY IS PATTON CHILL (pun not intended) WITH IT???)

LOGAN HAD A CASUAL FALSEHOOD???? 

WAIT WHAT DID THE SIDES VOTE FOR??

“Thomas is in a bad place-” *camera pans to VIRGIL*

Roman calling Thomas a special snowflake

“Something good” *Frozen shows* “,,, or neutral”

“And from this point on, NO MORE NORDIC INSPIRED NUMBERS”

Virgil keep going back to the actual problem while Roman and Patton just like 90% forget the problem and Logan talks to and tries to calm Virgil

“I ALSO LOVE YOU OLAF”

“Cuties, I’m gonna keep you” “Ah you’re joking right? No you’re mine now”

“The heart is not so easily changed” “No it isn’t” *confused Patton noises*

“But, the head can be persuaded” “Can it though?” THAT SHADE AT LOGAN HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK

“Fear will be your enemy” *gay emo panic*

“So you’re saying lock her away because she’s dangerous” GOING BACK TO VIRGIL??? UH????

“JOAN!!!” They definitely wrote that line

Virgil’s mini existential crisis

Remus just yeeted up from behind the couch shirtless oh god was he jacking off to Frozen wtf

REMUS GETTING SO EXCITED ABOUT THE PARENTS DYING IS HONESTLY SO PURE EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT AT ALL

“I SLEEP IN THE B U F F”

“Did I screw everything up?” “No I threw out your vote so you wouldn’t do that” ROMAN WHAT

Roman: *calls Frozen a Classic* Also Roman: *Makes fun of the entire movie and demands a rewrite*

“How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things that you were uncomfortable with in the past” THAT SHADE!! THAT TEA!! I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THESE *THINGS* PLEASE????

Patton: Let’s relax!! :) Virgil: Bruh I legit AM Anxiety that’s not in my job description

“How many times has our response to a difficult decision been half committing to one option and subsequently panicking about whether that option is our best option until it’s too late for Thomas to change his mind?” “7,430″ MOOD

“Why have a ballroom with no balls?” *Trash boi snickers at the dick joke that wasn’t there until then* "Nope, I’m an adult” (me me big boy-)

ROMAN’S IMPERSONATION OF HIS “EVIL PLOTTING FACE” HAS BE DEAD ON THE FLOOR

“AW MAN YEAH I’M LIKE SO FUCKED UP ON CHOCOLATE FONDUE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING RIGHT NOW” *Patton looks over, concerned* *Virgil looks over, annoyed* *Thomas glances over, lowkey amused* *Logan doesn’t even look at him and just grabs his tea*

NO TURN OFF LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR IT’S MAKING PATTON SAD (ALSO IS HIS CONNECTION PROJECTING? AND IS ROMAN’S RESPONSE A L S O ACCURATE?) 

“There’s no way she’s coming out of this situation without trust issues” honestly though yeah

“Not a footprint to be seen” “Except for the footprints behind you” “hEy YeAh” KEEP IT UP LOGAN YOU’RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE

Virgil: *Serious comment* Patton: “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see...” (did he sing the rest of the song or did he specifically choose these lines because if it’s the second one THAT CAN BE A WHOLE LOT OF ANGST AND I’M HERE FOR IT)

Logan canonically criticizes the movie at movie nights

ALSO GUYS THE VIDEO CAME OUT ON A FRIDAY SO FRIDAY NIGHT MOVIE NIGHTS ARE CANON

“Do you think this ice castle has a lavatory?” “ICE TOILET” “Or a bed?” “ICE BED” “This place sounds awful”

“HE DEFINITELY FUCKS THE REINDEER” “ew”

“You meddled with the vote to ensure that we would watch this and yet you’re the one constantly making fun of it” FACTS LOGAN 

“This [^] is how I show my love” WAIT A MINUTE *Looks back at the entire series* HE MADE FUN OF VIRGIL SO MUCH SO WAIT PRINXIETY??? LAMP?? DR LAMP?? (is that the ship name because that’s this video basically*

Nobody:     Not a soul:     Roman: OLAF’S CONTRIBUTION SHOULD HAVE COUNTED AND SAVED HER

“Like... bruh” mood

“Take care of my sister” “You’ve already done a good job of that yourself Elsa” *hood falls off*

“Ah, we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes” “nO-” (also Roman channeled so much Remy energy right there headcanon they hang out all the time change my mind)

“Oh sweet Frank Iero” I’m using that now

“Just think about it” “LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE”

“Attacking a person for opinions they don’t have doesn’t really do anybody any good” Me: BECAUSE IT DOESN’T WORK!! AYYY YOU LISTENED TO AND ARE REFERENCING LOGAN IN LAST EPISODE??? OR AM I JUST TRASH??

“Oh yeah like me kissing a man is unacceptable?” What a power move though 

“AAAAALSJDFOAGHOKLNOIATYRGH” Mood

Ok but also like Virgil basically rapped like that rapid talking was as fast as a bunch of rappers and even faster than some

Logan using the grounding method that my therapist suggested gave me life

Most of Virgil’s grounding answers were existential and oof

“A sour taste in my mouth probably left over from those reheated thai noodle leftovers” *Confused faces*

“FIGURATIVELY” *DWIT has entered the chat*

“Thank you Logan” “No problem, just your cool teacher being his cool self” *sips tea* Felt that. Also I have a new reaction image now XD

“Take it from Frozen’s most inspirational song” Let it Go? “Fixer Upper” Oh but ya know what valid

“Throw a little love their way” Virgil *confused smile?? I think that’s what that is??*

“Elsa, we the villagers have thought it over and with no discussion whatsoever we’ve decided we’re not scared anymore and ice magic is actually cool as hell!!” YEAH WAIT A MINUTE OMG

Logan: *Lists all of Elsa’s powers, reading from a notebook (meaning he took notes while watching the movie which is so in character omg) and implying that there is no way any of that makes sense* Patton: Sounds okay that makes sense

“With Elsa’s seemingly unstoppable “ice powers” I’d imagine Arendelle becomes a global superpower. No military force of that time could ever stand a chance against her never ending army of ice golems” 

Nobody:     Not a soul:      Patton: “True love is a closed door that is eventually opened up to you!”

“What if your soulmate was there” “OH SHIT” I love Roman that was all it took huh

*Deceit has entered the chat* “HISS” 

“Don’t touch my shit”

I wish we got to see Deceit’s face there but I get it we couldn’t see him without his hat (except for in the bloopers videos but those don’t count) (Also they probably just didn’t wanna do the makeup for him because it’s a lot and it might’ve been a split second decision and someone else might’ve played him with Thomas just voice recording over it especially considering there’s overlap so they wouldn’t have just been able to split screen it)

“I was gonna rig the vote anyway”

“I don’t know what you’re asking”

Roman is the source of SFW fanfic and Remus is the source of NSFW fanfic and Virgil is the source of angsty fanfic

“I’m going to bed. IN THE B U F F”

THE NEW SWEATERS IM BROKE SO IF SOMEONE WANTS TO GET ME ALL OF THEM (at least just Virgil’s even though I love like all of them)

WAIT THERE’S SCARVES TOO OMG I ALSO WANT ALL OF THEM (or at least,,, nope all of them)

“We were trying to make a slightly simpler video” Video: *is longer than most of season 1′s episodes* *has full body shots of almost all the characters* *has like 5 way split scenes* *uses every side* 

WAIT LOGAN BROUGHT BACK OUT HIS ONESIE I LOVE HIM and he’s still got his necktie on just underneath it amazing

This video was just LAMP and potentially DLAMP and maybe DR LAMP if that’s the ship name. There were also a bunch of really good Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Roceit moments in this one so I’m expecting fanfic hella soon

Also as of right now (I finished writing this at like 4am ET) we are still #1 on trending on Tumblr

***We never see Remus’s legs in the video so my theory of there is only one set of legs for the creativitwins still stands and is valid

[btsinlondon]

For the Jin inspo, I’m sure this has been down many times before lol, but I’d love to eat lots of sexy foods/aphrodisiac foods with him and pop some champagne or wine, and then after that, he eats you too 🙃 seriously just imagine his lips all over your pussy like 🥵

Disclaimer - Writing this made me see Jin in a whole new light. Now Jin can come and get it. 

Warning - SMUT 18+ ONLY

Words - 2k

Preview -

he licks off the chocolate and opens his mouth ever so slightly as you push your finger inside.

hot and wet and so so erotic, he sucks on your finger and closes his eyes, savouring the taste.

the sight is enough to make you rip off all your clothes here and now.

the sexual tension is so intense you can feel the blood pumping in your chest, throbbing between your crossed legs.

you squeeze your thighs together, the pressure giving you a slight relief from the aching need.

you remove your finger as he leans across the table and he practically growls “you are so fucking hot, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

he ghosts his lips over yours, so close to kissing you...

“i want to taste you”

his words send you over the edge and you press your lips against his, desperate and needy.

you bite his bottom lip and he audibly moans.

fuck. 

it was the third date. you hadn’t even kissed yet.

things were moving really slowly but in the past, moving too fast had always ended badly for you.

heartbreak, rejection, being used - you’d had enough of it all…definitely ready to try something new.

you first met Jin on a blind date. you’d been introduced by your best friend Jimin. he said Jin was different from all your past lovers. basically, he wasn’t a fuckboy.

“Jin is goofy and caring, a nutcase with a big heart and you should give him a chance.”

“plus he ticks most of your usual boxes. taller than you, broad shoulders, kind eyes and a beautiful smile. hilarious laugh which is contagious - and he can cook!”

so here you are, 9 days after your first blind date, having dinner in Jin’s apartment.

sat at the breakfast bar in the small kitchen, you’re watching him cook for you.

running your index finger and thumb along the stem of your wine glass, you smile as he tops up your glass and asks what music you’d like to listen to.

he seems so calm in the kitchen and it puts you at ease straight away.

“So how hungry are you?” Jin asks as he places the white wine back in the fridge.

“Pretty hungry! whatcha making?” you ask and take another sip.

“well, for starters we’re having oysters. main course salmon with asparagus and dessert….um, that’s a surprise so you’ll have to wait and see” there’s a dark glint in his eyes and it makes your stomach flip with excitement.

“aren’t all those dishes…aphrodisiacs??” you raise your eyebrow and smirk

“oh, are they?? i hadn’t realised” he gave a cheeky laugh and it was clear he loved the fact you caught him out.

Flash forward an hour and you’re both very tipsy, having nearly finished the second bottle of wine.

“Jin… that was delicious. thank you, you’re an incredible cook, i’m impressed…” you smile as curiosity gets the better of you “what’s for dessert??”

the alcohol making you act on impulse, you grab his wrist and rub your thumb in slow circles on his forearm. god his arms are so firm..the skin so soft.

you forget yourself as you start to imagine those arms holding you up, pressed up against the door, clothes lost along the way.

then you’re brought back to reality when he places his large, warm hand on top of yours.

eyes fixed on your lips. he leans in, noses almost touching, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. he inhales deeply.

“dessert is something special. you’ll see” he whispers against your lips and you’re convinced he’s about to kiss you.

you sigh and part your lips…but he hitches his breath and pulls away as if to say not yet…

disappointed, you pout slightly and rest your head in your hands, elbows on the table. 

“i’m intrigued…”

“you’ll like it, i promise” his gorgeous smile melts away any frustration and you watch him busy himself in the kitchen once again.

chocolate fondue. with strawberries.

fuck.

you playfully dip the fruit into the sticky, sweet melted chocolate and giggle as you accidentally drop a strawberry into the bowl.

he has his turn, popping a strawberry onto the end of a fork before swirling it around the liquid. 

he feeds you a strawberry, warm chocolate dripping onto your chin. 

“well, i’ve made a mess already” he smirks “let me get that for you…” he licks it off. the tip of his tongue brushing oh so close to your lips. you shiver and feel hot waves washing over your whole body.

you dip your finger into the melted chocolate and swipe it over his pouty lips. his eyes widen in shock at your bold move.

he licks off the sweet liquid and opens his mouth ever so slightly as you push your finger inside.

hot and wet and so so erotic, he sucks on your finger and closes his eyes, savouring the taste.

the sight is enough to make you rip off all your clothes here and now.

the sexual tension is so intense you can feel the blood pumping in your chest, throbbing between your crossed legs.

you squeeze your thighs together, the pressure giving you a slight relief from the aching need.

you remove your finger as he leans across the table and he practically growls “you are so fucking hot, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

he ghosts his lips over yours, so close to kissing you...

“i want to taste you”

his words send you over the edge and you press your lips against his, desperate and needy.

you bite his bottom lip and he audibly moans.

fuck.

the next thing that happens is a bit of a blur.

but before you know it, you’re laying on the breakfast bar in your black lace underwear and he’s trailing melted chocolate over your chest and stomach - the metal spoon held high above your half naked body, a smooth glossy trickle of chocolate criss crossing all over you.

you arch your back, reacting to his touch as he traces his fingertips over your mouth, your jawline, your collarbones, trailing of soft kisses on your skin, gently biting snd nipping along the way.

“you look delicious, please Y/N…?” he hooks his fingers under your lace underwear and pulls the fabric to one side as he looks at you with such intensity you almost moan from the sight of him between your legs. 

he places the lightest of kisses against the soft pink skin, slick with arousal.

ffffuucck......

he peels off your underwear and then spreads your legs apart. running his hand down your stomach, the chocolate smearing everywhere

“such a sticky mess, princess” he sits down on the bar stool and pulls the handle so it lowers so that his mouth is level with your pussy.

“mmmm such a pretty cunt” the words shock you

you push yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look of his face between your thighs

his dark hair falling across his face, he bites his bottom lip and looks at you again with that dark expression. so fucking handsome.

the next thing he does makes you blush profusely. 

he presses his thumbs either side of your sex and spreads your folds apart, his face only inches away, studying you intimately.

“so wet…” he slides two fingers across your slit, reaching your clit and your body jerks slightly at the sensitivity

“can i?” he teases your entrance with his fingers and you can barely speak

“nhhhggh - ye-yess Jin, please…” you want those lips, that tongue…

“i’m not gonna stop until this pretty pussy cums all over my tongue” you clench at his words and are bashful again...you know he will have seen your body react - his face practically buried into you.

“fuck….” he breathes..and then his tongue sends you wild.

pushing inside, wanting to feel you clench around him. lapping long strokes up to your clit, circling and teasing you until you’re so.close.

he changes pace and flicks his tongue side to side over your clit - the speed almost vibrating.

“oh god…uhh yeah so hnggg please, i need-”

“mmmm baby girl? you’re not making any sense” and he shoves his tongue inside again. hard.

“FUCK” you clench and chase the tightening spiral as you get closer and closer to the edge.

he pulls back just as you’re about to reach your climax and blows cool air on your pussy gently, teasing you. 

it’s almost painful, the throbbing and intensity of teetering on the verge of your orgasm.

“you were close, huh baby? you wanted me to finish you off so soon? when i know i can get away with bringing you to the edge over and over.” 

“please....” you beg and spread your legs wider 

“the perfect recipe for the most delicious dessert takes time and patience...” he’s laughing at his own metaphor and you can’t help laugh too

but what a fucking tease!

“s-not fair. Jin please. don’t tease me like this” you’re half begging, half commanding him to finish what he started.

next thing you know, he’s fucking you with his mouth, pressing his nose into your clit and you’re sure he can’t even breathe his face is buried so deep.

you run your fingers into his hair, chocolate everywhere, but he keeps going until your bucking your hips violently, ass slapping against the cold marble countertop.

he grips onto your legs, holding you against his mouth as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life…

he gives you only moments to recover before he stands up and grabs you roughly, pulling you towards him, your legs straddling his hips as he unbuckles his jeans.

you pull his t-shirt up and over his head and playfully draw your fingers across your own chest before wiping the chocolate on his body.

you lick the chocolate off his smooth skin, being careful to flick your tongue over his nipples.

“such a bad girl” he hisses

you unhook your bra and toss it aside. he pulls you in towards his body, his boxes bulging against your core.

he scoops his hands around your face and kisses you. his lips are salty and sweet and pillowy soft 

his hips press into you and you run your fingers along the elastic of his boxers.

“Jin - I…”

you want him. but now your logical head is trying to take over. things are moving so quickly…but you don’t even have any protection and you promised yourself to do things differently this time. not go so far, so soon.

“what baby?” he can sense your sudden hesitation …” it’s ok, we don’t have to do anything more…i just want to make you feel good” and he kisses you again.

“let’s get cleaned up, i’ll run you a hot bath” he scoops you up off the kitchen counter and carries you to the bathroom.

pulling the curtain across, he flicks the shower on and waits for the water to get hot.

“after you” he smiles - kind and reassuring as you step under the steamy water and let the chocolate wash away.

“May i join?” he pokes his head around the shower curtain and steps into the bath, closing the space between your naked bodies so the water washes over him too.

skin on skin, he kisses you. it’s a wet kiss, passionate and hot. you melt under his touch, knees weak as he bites your bottom lip and pulls it back slightly.

you moan softly as he slides his hand down your hips, over your ass and grabs hold. you submit to his touch as you run your fingers through his wet hair. 

things escalate quickly and his hands are everywhere. he leans his left hand against the tiles, his wide frame trapping you between his body and the bathroom wall.

he knows he can’t fuck you, at least not right now - but he wants you to feel good, he wants you to be satisfied, he wants you to remember he took good care of you

using his free hand, he slides his fingers inside and begins fucking you with two fingers as if it were his cock. hitting that spot inside over and over, catching your whimpers with his mouth.

“uh oh- pl-pleasee oh fuck-nyeah” the sounds he’s drawing from you getting louder and more whiney as you chase your orgasm, bucking your hips into his hand.

“that’s right baby, such a good girl” he bites your neck “mmm you like fucking my fingers huh?” he growls as he makes the come hither motion inside.

you can barely stand, hands trying to find something to grab hold of but your wet palms simply slide all over the bathroom tiles.

“uh- so c-close…fuck fuck FUCK!” and you’re coming undone, knees giving way as he catches the weight of your body and holds you close against him, the water cascading over you as - completely blissed out from your second intense orgasm of the night.

“Did my girl enjoy that?” he smiles at you with such gentle eyes, your heart melts as he wraps you in a big fluffy towel.

“‘MY’ girl?…does that mean what i think it does?”

“of course baby. i want you all to myself. i don’t want you to see nobody else and i don’t wanna see nobody else”

you tiptoe in the shower and kiss him “Jin, i would love to be your girlfriend”

MASTERLIST 

[taiblogcomics]

Not Home For the Holidays

Hey there, day-one bug fix. So we've finally laid that long nightmare we call Suicide Squad behind us. And now we're officially out of the holidays. So what better way to celebrate than a My Little Pony holiday special~?

Here's the cover:

Ah, a typical depiction of caroling, and well in character. Half of them are just singing nicely. Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, is belting out her own death metal versions of the songs, by the look of her expression, which is obviously not to Applejack and Rarity's taste. Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, doesn't care about Pinkie's antics. She'd look just as not-thrilled to be there even if all of them were singing nicely. Otherwise, the rest of the cover has some nice, gentle holiday imagery. The brighter colours of our cast contrast nicely with the darker forest green and such~

So it's been a while since the last holiday special, eh? Seems like it goes every other year. 2015, 2017, and now this one. That's fine with me, doing it every other year makes the stories more unique and interesting. Anyway, we open with Pinkie decorating--but it's Applejack's leg she's decorating. Applejack's all laid up with a broken leg. Her friends are all here to keep her company--it never addresses why her family isn't here for this role--and Rainbow Dash even suggests they make it an early Hearth's Warming party. Unfortunately, Rarity announces that she has another engagement in Manehattan that night.

Here's the wrinkle: Celestia is also holding a royal gala that night, and Rarity has overscheduled. That's the big plot here: Rarity has overscheduled, and intends to attend all her events in one night. And if you think the gala and the soiree are the only things on the schedule, there's also a fireworks show in Ponyville that night as well. Spike in particular wants to attend that one, but he gladly joins Rarity as an assistant while she tries to get to each of these events. And while all this is discussed, Pinkie goes a bit Christmas Vacation cat on Applejack's leg in the background~

So we start that evening in Canterlot, with Rarity in a long gown and Spike in the top half of a tux. The pair of them arrive, noting with some confusion that the royal guards aren't posted to announce them. They enter the main ballroom, only to find everypony still in the midst of setup. Seems Twilight over-extended her stay at Applejack's (further playing into the comic's theme of overscheduling), and also didn't take into account not having Spike around to assist. So they're still getting the party together. There's almost an exciting moment where you think the chef hurrying in is going to drop the cheese fondue on Rarity, but it doesn't seem to end up that way.

Rarity and Spike instead end up helping to set up the party instead of mingling with the guests, and the time comes for them to rush out to Manehattan for that party just as the princesses arrive. The pair jump on the train, and Spike tries to console Rarity a bit. She's a bit bummed about having to run out on her friends just as the party started, and wishes she had considered swapping the order of events. They're off to meet her friends in the fashion world instead, and she's not wearing her most up-to-date gown. While on the train, they go over a series of signals to guide each other to ideal conversation. Two fingers for a change-up, three for a knuckleball, right?

This is a much smaller party, and also is also sort of a meetup of fashion-minded individuals to exchange ideas. Andy Warhol here has a difference of opinion on colour shades (he's so pretentious, they're both just red), and while Spike actually meets a nice pony named Chiffon Ruffles who's wearing a clever candy cane dress with real candy canes (Pinkie would approve so hard), Rarity ushers him out the door as the clock suddenly ticks over. There's a minor error where it says they have to get back "to Equestria" and not "to Ponyville", but it's fine.

The pair are back aboard a train, and Rarity wonders if they might stop and find a way to get him back to Ponyville while she returns to Manehattan to chat Chiffon up, and Spike finally cracks a bit. He is still young, after all, and he might be a bit tired. But he explains that he didn't get the things he wanted at the other parties--not even a candy cane off Chiffon's gown--and the one thing he was promised by Rarity was the chance to see the fireworks. He gave up all that stuff to spend time with her. And that's when the avalanche suddenly knocks the train off the tracks~

I'm not even kidding. There's a full-page spread of it and everything. And since it's another Andy Price issue, it's gorgeously drawn. Fortunately, nopony is hurt, and Rarity even uses her magic to dig a way out so the other passengers can escape. Since they're going nowhere fast, Rarity takes a moment to apologise to Spike. She expected the night to be a whirlwind of connections and conversations, but everypony at the gala was too distracted by setup, and all the fashion ponies were more interested in being seen than heard. She ended up treating Spike the same way, and now his holiday's ruined.

She offers to make it up to Spike by carrying him back to Ponyville personally. Fortunately, they don't get too far before they instead hear jolly laughter from overhead. Yes indeed, the pair are visited by none other than... Rainbow Dash and Twilight, who are here with a rescue team. What, did you think it was Santa or something~? The other passengers board the rescue sleds the pegasi brought, but suddenly there's a loud explosion. No, it's not another train wreck, but the fireworks show going off. The rest of the story is a wrap-up of what was learned: it's the quality and not quantity of the connections you make over the holidays. And so the Mane Six and Spike just spend the rest of their evening at Applejack's~

Before you think that's all there is, the comic has a short four-page story to finish off the issue. This one features the Student Six and Pinkie Pie. The Six are in exactly the kind of mood you'd expect kids to be in around the holidays: excited, goofing off, and throwing snowballs. In order to get them to behave, Pinkie tells them about Krumple Horn, who is essentially a MLP-friendly version of Krampus. Over the next page, each time they stir up trouble, something karmic happens to them. And Ocellus goes missing, leaving behind a bed full of mud. Now that’s horror. The end result is that the Student Six are eager to clear out and go home for the holidays, to their teachers' relief. And of course, Discord appears to reveal he was the one who set up all the karmic retribution, because frankly the role suits him a little too well~

Another holiday, another nice Hearth’s Warming story from our friends in Ponyville. I like this one, and encourage you to go out and read it for yourselves, if only because I summed up the ending sentiment of the main story a bit quickly. It goes on for quite a bit more, and the nice sentiment is much better read in full. And just because the holidays are over doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep the spirit of them going, yeah~?

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

Running from Grenades

Steve and Peggy reunited in the past. He wants to stay. She can't let him.

Rating: T (swearing) Warnings: Endgame Spoilers! Canon divergence!  Author’s Notes: Can y’all believe I got so mad at Cap’s ending in Endgame that I wrote a fix-it fic, thus marking my debut into writing MCU fic? While on the surface level, it is nice that he found a "happy ending", it's something that sort of falls apart for me under scrutiny. This is my response to that ending -- a canon divergence of sorts. This is also a bit of a Steggy fic, insomuch that they kiss and love one another. But I believe in warnings, and my fair warning is that they do not get their Endgame ending. (Also, because this is my first time writing MCU fic, I apologize if I get any of the tag conventions wrong. Please let me know, and I’ll edit ASAP.)

Read on AO3. xxxxxxx The first thing Peggy does when she see Steve Rogers standing before her is shoot.

He dodges it, the first sign that perhaps the man standing before might actually be the person he claims to be, but the War has taught her to be apprehensive, to question. Anger, fear, and hope churn in her belly and possibilities race through her mind. A clone? HYDRA? Steve has died, disappeared into the ocean. It had been years.

“There was a time when I thought you were sleeping with Howard, remember? The fondue thing? I was jealous, because I wanted to be with you. I was stupid and..”

He’s rambling, this man with Steve’s face and voice. He rambling about memories, shared memories and emotions, and it’s that which causes Peggy to believe that maybe this man is Steve.

“I owe you a dance. And I’m here to ask you for that.”

Perhaps it’s because she misses him so much that she lowers the gun. Perhaps it’s the earnestness in his voice and the raw emotion in his eyes that convinces her that he’s telling the truth. What Peggy does know is that when she drops her weapon and breathes his name, it takes no time at all for him to sweep across the room and pull her into a kiss.

It tastes like coming home.

  -/-

  In his arms as they sway to music only they can hear, Peggy allows herself to ask how, when, and why now? She’s allowed herself a few moments to bask, to cry, to revel in the warmth of Steve’s arms and a moment she believed that she would never have the chance to experience.

His voice has a touch of humor when he replies. “That’s a bit of a long story, more of a sit down type of conversation.”

“Oh.” She’s not sure if she’s ready to disentangle herself from him. As she presses her head against his chest, she hears the pounding of his heart. It had sped up when she’d questioned him, and that is what tells her she should pry, as much as neither of them want to at the moment. “I have chairs, and pretty comfortable sofa.”

He stills, his heart picking up an even faster pace than she thought possible. “Do you have anything strong to drink? You’re going to need it.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’m a tough woman, Rogers.”

He laughs, and rumble vibrates in his chest. “As if I could ever forget.”

  -/-

  She thinks she should have taken him up for a drink.

Steve weaves a tale that seems lifted right from Wells’ novels, time travel and alien invasions and gods from other worlds. His story sounds wild and amazing, but also incredibly lonely. He speaks of a decade of pain and trauma, and even though she can’t see it, she knows he still carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Peggy reaches out to take his hand, and he squeezes it.

She tries and fails not to ask questions, to just let him speak, but her inquisitiveness wins out.

“Howard’s son? Truly?” The thought of Howard as a father is enough to send her mind reeling, let alone him marrying. The idea that his son will dress up in a suit of metal is somehow more palatable. What does that say about her.

“He was a right son of a bitch, but Howard would be proud.” Peggy doesn’t miss how Steve refers to Howard’s son in the past tense, whereas moments earlier he had described a man named Sam in the present. She also doesn’t miss Steve’s glassy-eyed stare. “We never got along. Not really. Different ideologies, and I think — well, I know — he always resented me.”

“But he was still your friend.” She’s reminded, vaguely, of the aftermath of losing Bucky. But we didn’t lose him, did we, she thinks. Not if what Steve says is true.

He nods. “And I didn’t get to say goodbye. Story of my life, right?”

Her heart constricts. She tries to imagine how he might feel, a person out of time. How isolating it must have been. She takes comfort in the fact that he found his people amid all of the chaos — a Norse god, spies, scientists, soldiers, and even old friends. It might not be the type of family they taught about in Sunday school, but deep down, she’s happy he found them. She can stomach the pain in his tale by know he has had people he loved surrounding him.

“The only good thing about this mess is that I get to see you again.” Steve gives her a glassy-eyed, but hopeful expression. “I’ve missed you.”

She’s noticed that he’s said nothing about her in that future of his, and doesn’t ask. She knows she isn’t in it. It makes sense, of course. She shouldn’t be a factor, likely long dead before 2023 even ignoring a monster’s...snap? But no one likes to dwell on their demise, inevitable as it may be.

So instead of inquiring further about her life, she instead tells him the truth. “I’ve missed you too.”

He seems to read her thoughts. He’s gotten so much more perceptive over the years, it seems, because he comments, “I’m surprised you haven’t asked about you.”

“I’m not sure I want to. Wouldn’t that change things? I find out I die at 40, and I spend my final days scared of that shadow. No thank you.”

“The Peggy Carter I know has never cowered in the face of death.” There’s something in the way his says it clues her in to more than he intends. He knows how she dies, of course he does. If their roles had been reversed, she knows without a doubt she would have searched for his fate. “Besides, I’m not even sure that’s how it works. Bruce — uh, the green guy I told you about — said it was more of an alternate reality thing. It...really doesn’t make sense. He’s one of the smartest guys I know, and I don’t think he could explain it.”

“So when you pop back to your time, it’s like nothing would have changed,” she reasons aloud, trying to wrap her mind around the concepts. Perhaps she should have spent more of her time reading science fiction rather than histories and biographies. Those hadn’t prepared her for this moment. Then again, Peggy doubts anything could have.

Steve drops his gaze, takes a deep breath, then looks back at her, apprehensive. “About that. What do you think about me staying?”

  -/-

  Once upon a time, in the aftermath of the war and losing Steve, Peggy had imagined this very moment. Steve coming back with an absurd story of how he survived, and the two of them finally having that dance.

The reality of it is far different.

As she sits on the sofa, his question about staying lingering in the air, she takes in the man before her: broken, sad, and afraid. He’s a man to whom the years have been cruel, far crueler than they’ve had any right to be. No wonder he wants to come back, to come home, to use some mix of magic and science.

It’s that thought that prompts her next line of inquiry. “Steve, what happens to me when you come from?”

He blinks, surprised. He hadn’t expected this response, and to be honest, she surprises herself with it. “I thought you said you didn’t want to know.”

“I changed my mind.” She squeezes his hand. It’s cheating. “Please.”

He licks his lips. Glances down. “You lived a long, happy life. You die an old woman with no regrets.”

It’s not the full story. This much she knows. “How do you know?”

“You told me.” So this isn’t the first time he sees her again. Him going down with the Valkyrie wasn’t the last she saw him until now. There’s something comforting about that, if there’s anything comforting to be found in a discussion about one’s death and the future. “You go on to inspire so many people. Your niece,” he winces, and she wonders why, “she joins S.H.I.E.L.D. because of you. You buy her first thigh holster.”

“I’m glad I don’t lose my sense of fashion in my old age,” she replies with all the humor she doesn’t feel.

Steve laughs, but it’s a hollow thing. “My niece follows in my footsteps, but I hear no mention of kids. So I take it that I stay a spinster and remain married to my job?”

Not that it matters, ultimately. A partner to share her life with would be nice, but there’s more to life than a man or children. She can succeed just as well on her own. And if she’s able to do it and inspire others to do good? Well, that can be enough for her.

A shadow crosses Steve’s face. It’s one she knows all too well. It’s one she’s worn herself. Sadness. Jealousy. Loss. “I don’t think you wanted them to. Your kids, I mean. They were proud of you, though. Your husband passed before I was able to meet him, but by all accounts he was a good man.”

“Well, of course, do you expect me to be someone who settles?” Because if she’s going to be a woman who marries, which in one world, she apparently is, then she’s going to go for someone extraordinary.

She had once allowed herself to think that man could be Steve, and judging by the way he kissed her, she’s pretty sure he once (currently?) thought the same way. Their conversation has taken a strange turn, one she knows Steve didn’t intend and one she doesn’t want. There’s a sense of wrongness when discussing her love life -- one that doesn’t exist yet -- with Steve. How strange it is to have a future laid out for her like this, presented by someone so dear to her past.

She has a headache.

She really should have gotten herself a drink.

“You don’t look happy,” Steve comments. There’s a hint of hope there, but his overall tone is concerned. “I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry.”

“I asked.”

“I dangled the future in front of you. I’m not playing fair.”

“Oh, Steve, when has life ever been fair?” There had been nothing fair about the Depression. There had been nothing fair about the War. There had been nothing fair about Steve crashing into the water. The list goes on and on, so long that Peggy sometimes doubts there’s any such thing as fairness in the world. Even this moment, Steve sitting beside her, is so painfully unfair that it it hurts.

“It’s not,” he agrees, years of pain and grief and sadness written across his face, “but, maybe we can make it just a little bit more fair.”

He squeezes her hand. He’s talking about staying again. With her.

She could say yes, agree. It would be so damn easy. It’s what she wants. She doesn’t care, at the moment, and hour faceless husband and their unknown children. What she cares about is the living and breathing man next to her.

And that’s why she has to break his heart.

“You know you can’t stay.”

“I can. I already told you that it won’t change anything when — where — I came from,” he argues, desperate. He takes both of her hands into his own. She’d forgotten how much larger his hands were than hers. “The family I told you about, they would be okay. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Yes and no. I’m not worried about them. They don’t matter, not really. To be honest, I can barely even comprehend their existence. They’re like a dream, a very nice one, but not my reality.” Peggy allows Steve to hold her hands. She thinks it’s what keeping them both together. She takes a deep breath. “But to you, they’re real. And the Steve Rogers I know wouldn’t try to that take away from someone who told him she was happy.”

He doesn’t say anything. He looks down, refusing to meet her eyes.

“I spent so many nights wishing you would walk back into my life, Steve. You have no idea—“

“Actually, I do.”

“Sorry, you do.” He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t, would he? “What I’m trying to say is that I wished so badly for you to be here. Just not like this.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I wanted you here because you somehow survived the crash — “

“I did survive the crash.”

“ — not here because you’re scared and grieving,” she finishes gently.

She’d listened to his story, listened as his voice cracked when speaking of a woman named Natasha and saw the pain etched on his face when he mentioned Howard’s son. She had seen him shake when he recounted everyone disappearing, a horror that she can’t bear to imagine.

Steve had sounded traumatized.

Steve looks traumatized, hunched over and red-eyed.

She’s seen the same trauma in the eyes of the men coming back from the War, in way civilians who lived through bombs raining down from the skies carry themselves down the street. It’s something she felt herself. But Peggy also knows there’s a right way of handling the trauma, and then there’s this: running the past, to comfort, and ensconcing oneself away from truly dealing with the loss.

She understands why Steve came back. She doesn’t blame him either. Most men with the literal ability to turn back and clock and start over would — but Steve Rogers is not most men. Even before his was physically changed by the serum, he hadn’t been like most men. Most men don’t jump in front of a grenade. Staying here, in the past, would be akin to running away from it.

Peggy slides her hands from Steve, and moves to cup his face. She’s afraid that he’ll pull away. He doesn’t. “You’re a good man, Steve, a good man that has been dealt a bad hand. You deserve happiness, but this isn’t it. You wouldn’t be happy in the end. You’d regret leaving behind everyone you care about.”

“I’d regret leaving you. Still do.”

“Yes, but the difference between me and them is that you know I’m going to be okay,” she reminds him. “Can you say the same thing about them? And would you be okay with not knowing?”

He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “No.”

He moves away from her, sighing and sinking deeper into the sofa. Peggy hopes that she is doing the right thing. What if she isn’t? “It’s okay to be afraid, Steve. It’s okay to hurt. We all do.”

“Even you?” He quirks a brow. He’s kidding with his question, mostly, but it makes Peggy wonders if he’s realized the pedestal he’s placed her on.

“Even me.”

“The reason I came back here, the reason I wanted to stay is because Tony would always say that I should get a life. And he gave up his for all of us. He has a kid, you know? And Nat, she..she…” He voice trails off. Now, he doesn’t try to hide his tears. Nor should he. Peggy’s has enough of the ‘real men don’t cry’ mentality. Bottling the emotions makes everything worse, in the end.

“They both sound like heroes.” Peggy tells him. She wishes she could have the chance to meet Howard’s son and the woman known as Nat. “But with all due respect to Tony, he’s wrong about one thing: you already have a life. It’s not the life he wants, but yours is just as real as his. You have friends. You have work that you love. That sounds like plenty enough of a life for me.”

“I don’t know if I love being Captain America,” he concedes. “Not anymore. I like what the shield represents, but I’m not sure I can do it anymore.”

“Then stop being Captain America. You’ve completed your tour of duty. It’s okay to retire into civilian life.” Plenty of other soldiers have. Why shouldn’t Steve? “It doesn’t mean you have to stop doing good or helping people. You just won’t do it while wearing an American flag. Let someone else take the mantle. Focus on just being Steve.”

“I don’t even know what means anymore.”

“Then make it a priority to find out,” she insists. “This is something you have to find out for yourself, but for what it’s worth, the Steve Rogers I know never needed the shield or the serum to be a good man.”

He huffs out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “You always saw the best of me.”

“Believe me when I say that’s not hard to do.”

His expression turns serious. “I love you, Peggy. I’m not expecting you to say it back, but if we’re talking about regrets, I had to tell you.”

She should tell him she feels the safe. It’s what she wants to do. She doesn’t. “I know.”

“How very Han Solo of you,” he replies. There’s a sparkle of mirth in his eyes at a joke she doesn’t quite follow.

“I don’t understand.”

“Welcome to my life,” he teases. His expression then turns serious. “I know I have to go back, but before I do, can I ask you one more thing.”

Anything. “Of course.”

“Can I have one last dance?”

This time, it’s Peggy’s turn to feel the sting of tears in her eyes. “I would despair if you didn’t.”

-/-

  They dance for what seems like hours, and maybe hours do pass. However long they sway together, it’s not nearly long enough.

And then he’s gone. Only then does Peggy allow herself to truly break down. She wonders if she will forever regret letting him go, if she made a massive mistake.

It’s only after she’s cried all the tears she thinks she can cry that she notices the slip of paper with writing in Steve’s familiar scrawl.

Coordinates.

Find Me. -Steve

[spdersilk]

Sunburn

Summary: bucky is smitten and so are you. one sunburn later and y’all have some “fondue” (i tried to make it rhyme but it didn’t work)

Pairing(s): bucky barnes x reader

Requests: open!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): swearing, fluff

It was hot. It was ridiculously hot. The California heat seemed to be extraordinary oppressive this morning and all Bucky could think of was ways to make his metal arm not accidentally brush against his skin. He had made that mistake four times this morning.  Tony had decided it was essential for the Avengers to take a getaway trip for the sake of sanity. Bucky called bullshit,  clearly aware that Tony was postponing yet another Avengers meeting with Ross and Fury. Not that he minded.The team had spent the last month communicating with officials nearly everyday to organize plans, substantiate future missions, and debrief every and any inquiries from Maria Hill. The vacation was well deserved. But the climate made it feel more like a spa day gone wrong than a relaxing day at the beach. 

“Where’s Nat? I thought she and Y/N were going to get the drinks.” Sam grumbled, rubbing more sunscreen on. 

“She said that 20 minutes ago. I bet they’re lounging in the bar. I know Tony’s making drinks over there.” Steve added, sinking deeper into his sun chair. Bucky turned around and squinted. Surely enough the two women sat perched on two bar-stools, entertaining Tony. The drinks were long forgotten. 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Bucky muttered. Steve turned around before groaning.

“Hey what’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Sam asked, turning towards Bucky. Steve raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky stated, looking away. Steve looked at Sam in confusion.

“There’s something going on with Y/N and Bucky?”

Bucky pursed his lips. There wasn’t anything going on...necessarily. Bucky had developed a “small attraction” towards his team mate and there was nothing wrong with that. Until Sam found out. Bucky still regretted that day, thinking of a million different ways it could have gone with an outcome that was completely different. Sadly, no matter how much he dreamed, reality sucked and Sam would never not be a dick.

Y/N had just finished training with Natasha and was eager to ravage the fridge for anything that would satisfy her seemingly unquenchable appetite. Bucky sat on the sofa, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Do you want me to turn on the television? I’m sure it’ll be way more interesting to stare at than just a blank screen.” Y/N said, smiling lightly. Bucky blinked, now noticing the blank television.

“I was just thinking.” He replied, blushing lightly. He had been pondering about her and how exactly he would ask her out. This was much easier back in the 40s.

“Ahh. Do you want anything from the fridge?” Y/N asked, turning towards the kitchen. Bucky couldn’t restrain his eyes from checking out the rest of her figure. He was so utterly drawn to her that he was sure she could make anything look beautiful. She turned around at his lack of response. Bucky flushed.

“Just a bottle of water.” 

Y/N hummed in response and Bucky began to panic. It’s now or never Barnes. He got up quickly, his mind set on asking her out. He didn’t realize a familiar well built man with a smirk waltz into the room. 

“Y/N, I was wondering if you would wanna-”

“Hey manchurian candidate, whatcha got there?” 

Bucky froze. That son of a bitch. He looked at Sam, his eyes narrowing at him. Sam looked at Y/N before looking back at Bucky, the wheels in his mind turning. He knows.

“A water bottle.” Bucky said between his teeth.

“Y/N, could you toss me a granola bar?” Sam asked, his shit eating grin only widening. Bucky only had one wish at that moment: make Sam Wilson disappear.

“Sure. Bucky, what were you saying?” Y/N asked, tossing Sam a bar. 

“I was thinking we could-”

“Oh my god, was he going to tell you how I walked in on him watching porn? Dear god-” Sam barked out in laughter. Bucky stared wide eyed, absolutely mortified.

“What?” Y/N asked, clearly bewildered.

“I walked in on Bucky watching porn. It was hilarious and traumatizing.” Sam snickered. Bucky tried to speak, but his voice betrayed him and all he could do was watch the horrifying scene unravel before him. He looked at Y/N, his eyes almost pleading her not to believe Sam. She let out a small chuckle, clearly uncomfortable. Bucky had never wanted to kill Sam more than he did in that moment.

“That’s great um. I’ll sit this story out, see ya guys later.”

Bucky shook his head at the memory, the embarrassment still causing him to blush. 

“No, Sam just likes to make up things.” Bucky mumbled. 

“I do not! Old man’s just saying that because he’s sad he hasn’t gotten a kiss since 19-”

“Are you asking for a black eye, because I am not afraid-”

“Guys settle down. Has it really been that long since you’ve kissed someone Buck?” Steve asked, clearly amused. Bucky looked away, his lips pressing into a fine line.

“No.”

“Liar!”

“Who’s lying about what?” 

Natasha and Y/N suddenly came into view, a cooler in both of their hands. Steve let out a sigh of relief, violently taking the box from Natasha’s hand.

“Easy there. You’re acting as if we were gone for an eternity.” She said, taking a seat at the edge of Steve’s sun chair.

“That’s because you guys were gone for an eternity.” Bucky grumbled, cracking open a Milwaukee beer. Y/N took a seat beside him.

“You guys are a bunch of divas. And who’s a liar?” She asked, crossing her legs. 

“Frozen Popsicle No.2 over there hasn’t gotten a good ol’ smooch since the 20th century.” Sam crooned, making kissing faces at Bucky. Using his metal arm, Bucky grabbed Sam’s bicep causing him to shriek. Steve immediately set the fire out. 

“I highly doubt that.” Y/N said, popping a pistachio in her mouth. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

“Look at you. Who wouldn’t want to make out with you?” She stated before freezing. The four of them stared at her, their gazes unwavering. Y/N shrugged sheepishly.

“Just putting it out there.” She whispered, taking a giant sip of her beer. Bucky stared at her for another moment before clearing his throat. 

“Alright you two...save the sex eyes for later. I actually want to enjoy the vacation while it lasts.” Sam quipped, causing them to laugh. 

Bucky couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind the rest of the day. He distanced himself from Y/N as much as he could, convincing himself her words were out of pity. He wasn’t aware that the distance hurt her or that she pined for him the same way. 

“You’ve got a sun burn.”

Bucky shook slightly, looking to the side. Y/N stood there, her eyes peering at his chest. He was still shirtless, opting to not change because of the hot weather. He looked down at his chest, touching at the burnt skin before wincing. 

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She muttered, disappearing into the corridor. Bucky’s heart began to pound. Is she not weirded out by me? After Sam’s little stunt three days ago? And then earlier today? Bucky took a seat on the kitchen chair. She came back with a first aid kit and got to her knees. 

“This is going to hurt a bit.” Y/N said softly, squeezing out a white cream on to her hand. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He said, smiling slightly. She chuckled, slowly applying the cream to his chest. He didn’t wince, simply staring at her as she worked Bucky swore Y/N was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. If he had wanted to kiss anyone, surely it would be her. Hell, when he thought of the word intimacy, he thought of her. Her and the lazy smile she would give him in the mornings when he made her coffee. Her and the chocolate chip pancakes she would make for him because Steve told her it reminded him of his ma. Her listening to everything Peter had to say about Star Wars when Tony was too busy in the lab. Her helping Wanda with her emotional trauma. Her looking out for the team when they stopped taking care of themselves. He swallowed thickly. It was so hard to not fall in love with her. She made it as easy as breathing. 

“You’re staring.” Y/N said, glancing at Bucky. He didn’t reply, simply raising a finger to push her hair behind her ear.

“And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He mumbled, not caring if he confessed his feelings. Her breath stopped short and she gazed at him for a moment. His eyes were raw with emotion, a clear cerulean blue intensely gazing at her. Y/N looked down, carefully cleaning her hand with a wipe.

“You’re being coy.” She whispered, trying not to let his close proximity affect her. She was failing. He grasped her hand slowly, urging her to look at him.

“I am being honest, doll.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, her eyes searching his face for some kind of sign. But it was clear. He was smitten and it showed. She couldn’t hold herself back. Not now.

“You really haven’t kissed a girl in that long?”

“That embarrassing huh?” He asked, chuckling. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She looked down, not wanting to face the possible impending rejection on his face.

“Can I kiss you?” She mumbled. He almost sighed in relief.

“Please.”

And then their lips were molding against each other. Bucky couldn’t suppress the sigh he was holding in. Each opened mouth kiss conveyed the longing that they both felt. His veins were filled with adrenaline. The mere idea of tasting her lips was enough to drive him crazy but right now, he could barely restrain himself. He pulled her onto his lap, cupping her cheeks like it was the last thing he would ever hold dear to his heart. She snagged at the ends of his hair, allowing to him groan against her mouth. The kiss was erotic and nothing like the soft and slow kiss Y/N dreamed it would be. Eventually the two of them stopped for air, leaning against each other. 

“You could have asked me a lot sooner, ya know?” He panted, smiling dazedly at her. She rolled her eyes, leaning her head on his neck.

“Don’t get cocky now.” She mumbled.

“Oh and for the record, I was not watching porn.” Bucky stated, absentmindedly drawing shapes on her hip.

“And what were you watching?”

“Probably Dora the Explorer, or some shit.” Sam piped up. Bucky and Y/N jumped at the intrusion, immediately scrambling away from each other.

“Don’t act all Virgin Mary with me, I saw the sex eyes earlier. You two need to keep it at a minimum.” Sam grumbled before waltzing out of the room, leaving the two love sick birds to their selves.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

J.B.B. (9)

Bucky x Reader

Content: angst to some level, welcome to the best country in the MCU btw.

Warnings: none, really. Just a passing mention of the death of a character.

Word Count: Enough to make me wish a country like this existed for real. And turns out bad throat hurts more than a full-blown common cold.

(I love you all for the love you’ve been giving this fic. Just want to say thank you so much. This has good nine chapters- and more to come- mostly because of your enthusiasm.)

MASTERLIST

^J.B.B., ^Part 2, ^Part 3, ^Part 4, ^Part 5, ^Part 6, *Part 7, !Part 8, ^Part 9, ^Part 10, !Part 11, ^Part 12, Part 13

"Are you sure about this?"

The glass walls of the Quinjet let the sun rays flood in everywhere, lighting up not only the interiors of the astounding Wakandan technology but the innocent eyes of the men who had not seen the beauty of the African lands that unfolded in front of them. The mountains were waking up to the morning winds that washed the misty clouds away, the grassland was being painted a pleasant hue under the new light, the animals were being drawn through the natural crevices of young hills and the forests were bleeding in bright greens with the first unfiltered golden streaks. Steve and Bucky stood in awe as the layers of nature's untouched artistry unfolded with every brighter minute in front of their eyes. The Quinjet was headed straight for a range with its occupants when Bucky had raised the question. He had been too busy looking at the incoming mountain generously covered in green to notice the smirks on the faces of the royalty- and his personal bodyguard cum pilot- he and his best friend were travelling with. For a moment he thought the worst, never taking his eyes off the trees, waiting for a collision at any moment, his flesh arm at ready to shield himself from the impact. "Welcome to Wakanda," was all T'Challa said.

Just like that the greens and mountains disappeared, a visage being taken away layer by layer as a whole new scenario stood in front of them. A full-fledged city was thriving in here. Buildings, houses and skyscrapers stood over the land with inherent, native allure. Vehicles moved by beneath them, hovering over the roads. Dots beneath them, that were this country’s people, went on with their daily lives, not really moved by something the Brooklyn boys were taking in with pure admiration, as it was their normalcy. Steve couldn't help but turn towards T'Challa with bewilderment written all over his face. "I thought you were the Prince of a third world country?" T'Challa didn't even take a breath. "And I thought you were the most powerful nation's face of justice." Bucky stood there basking in the speechlessness of his friend for a moment before Steve nodded his head with an air of 'touché'. The Quinjet touched down at heart of Wakanda, the home of late king T'Chaka, opening the gateway in welcome of the foreign men, who were greeted by a small army of armed women clad in what seemed like a traditional attire of combat for them. Just as T'Challa took his first step on the ground, the army greeted him by crossing their arms over their chest, making an 'X'. The woman leading them came forward. "My prince." "General." Bucky and Steve could see by her disposition that she indeed had the look and experience of a warrior. "Okoye," T'Challa addressed her before turning towards the men behind him, "I believe you have already familiarised yourself with who Captain Rogers and Sargeant Barnes are." Okoye turned her gaze towards the two men, never shifting from where she stood, "Captain. Sargeant." "Ma'am." The men said in unison. "They are our guests. And Sargeant Barnes is our priority." Okoye nodded. "The medical and technical team are already at the laboratory." For a moment her gaze turned soft. "Shuri is waiting for you there." Bucky could feel the air get a little heavy around T'Challa. "And mother?" the prince finally added in a low voice. "She is preparing for the final rites, my prince. She is expecting you and the princess to join her soon." T'Challa never broke his composure as he took one lasting breath. "Take us to her."

The meeting between the siblings had been a bittersweet affair. Bucky and Steve stood outside the laboratory, allowing the brother and sister to mourn the untimely death of their father in private. Steve and Bucky had been allowed to clean themselves of the recent battle at the more than decent quarters provided by the royal family with a change of clothes that was suited to their usual taste. Even though their bodies and wounds were clean of the grime of the inevitable conflict and regret, their minds were still heavy and exhausted by the choices they'd made and broken pieces they'd left behind- both literally and figuratively. Steve felt the heavy bruise on the left side of his face with his fingers, trying to measure the depth of the injury. His gaze never left Bucky, who shifted his weight on his legs as he took the sight of the advanced technology surrounding him in, making the blonde smile at the familiar awestruck blue eyes before a little wince came out of him. Bucky turned to his friend to find him touching his wounds to see where the fresh blood was coming from. "Stop it," he said out of reflex. Steve turned towards him with innocent eyes, "'Was just checking how deep the wound went." For a moment Steve thought Bucky had been distracted by something behind him before realising his friend's gaze went farther than the boundaries of Wakanda because when Bucky turned back to him, his eyes had a distant look as they announced, "don't touch that," huskily, making him wonder if Bucky was talking to him or someone else. His doubts were strengthened a bit when Bucky turned away to look outside the glass walls and ran his hand through his hair before closing his eyes to try and focus on a face that seemed like a dream. A good dream. The only dream that mattered.

"Ma'am," Steve and Bucky greeted the princess, who, according to them, seemed quite young to be heading the entire research and development of a technology so advanced even Tony Stark had not seen, let alone had the chance to work on, in his lifetime. The sixteen-year-old smiled at them. "Captain. Sargeant. I see the scientists here helped detach and disintegrate your broken metal on your way here, Sargeant Barnes." Bucky looked at his left side, the metal was gone, no longer weighing down his body like any other time. The only scrap shining through was the remains of the conjunction embodied with his nerves in his shoulder. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for that." "The team would require your blood samples and brain scans. Rest of the diagnosis has already been done when you were coming over. For both of you." "Shuri," T'Challa closed his eyes, his arms still behind his back. "What? You brought these white boys here in my lab. I'm going to be thorough with any and all people I'm fixing up. And their friends too." Shuri snapped before firmly adding "And don't Shuri me again. Right now you're just here to look pretty in front of them." Bucky and Steve's brows shot up to the sky as they looked at the perfectly confident Shuri sweeping the floor with T'Challa's exhausted but dumbstruck gaze- unexpected but never not welcoming for these white boys. They stood there, burying the surprise under a sheet of emotionlessness over their features, trying to be as invisible as possible.

"Steve. There is something you need to know." "What is it?"

“...There is something you need to find." "What?" "My journals. They have the names, places, experiments, anything and everything that HYDRA did...that I did for them. Find those people and make sure their madness doesn't get to see the light of the day."

Shuri, T'Challa and Okoye had gone away to complete the final rites of the King's passage, leaving Bucky and Steve in care of the handful of scientists working around them efficiently to ready the cryogenic capsule all the while evaluating the crux of HYDRA's programming. Bucky's distant look was back. Steve could see a hidden pain behind the still ocean- the tides that ran in the deepest pits, eroding the submerged lands in the darkness but never visible from the surface above. He had seen them before- the waves, though they were not of the same kind, they both were born from the same thing: fear- in the brown eyes of the man he'd come to respect the most recently; the man he left for the dead cold in Siberia. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. Steve waited patiently beside him, a slight worry passing over his face. "Steve, I need you to find someone." Steve's worry changed into confusion before taking the face of resolve. Bucky saw the transformation and something somewhere in the back of his mind rang an alarm. "Who is it? Who do I have to find?" His burning eyes waited for a name. "Steve. No. There is someone you need to find...and make sure she's safe," Bucky corrected. Every stone cold muscle in Steve's body melted as he let the words sink in. After a few moments, his lips found this hint of a smile filled with curiosity and relief over them. "Is she...are you...did you two..." "Please don't say-" "Fondue-d?" Bucky groaned before his face turned red and a delicate laugh left his throat. Steve followed. "What's her name?" Steve was genuinely curious to know about this woman. "Y/N. Her name is Y/N." The light illuminating his eyes was hard to miss. "Where is she?" "In Bucharest." "Not anymore." A figure way too familiar to Bucky entered the lab, altering his soft expressions within seconds. "Kalisha."

After having narrated all that went down after Bucky's disappearance from your life, the green-eyed Wakandan spy apologised for the inconveniences caused by her actions. "But just so you know, Sargeant Barnes, my apology is in no form a regret of any sort of having you deliver to the prince in whatever way necessary." Bucky nodded in agreement. "I understand. Do you know where she is right now?" Both Kalisha and Steve could measure the evident concern in Bucky's eyes and voice, both absorbing it with reasons of opposite polarity that concerned them. "No, I don't. But I can track her down before she gets herself caught up on the wrong side of things again." Kalisha's smaragdine orbs burned with a newfound will. She gathered herself before admitting, "She has always considered me her friend. I would like to return the favour." Bucky's smile found his way back. "But I cannot do this alone." Steve turned his gaze from his friend to Kalisha, "You don't have to," he declared. "I respect your enthusiasm, Captain, but we would be needing more than just one spy and one people's hero gone rogue." "I know some people. Good people. But they're really not in the position to help us unless we help them first." Kalisha smirked at the turn Steve had taken her to. "I know. It's hard to miss the news of a prison right in the middle of an ocean kept for people with a very specific skill set. I'll ask the general if we can borrow a Quinjet." "I'll have a word with his highness." The captain and the spy did a firm shake before he escorted her out of the lab.

"Are you sure about this?" Steve finally asked Bucky as he was being readied for the cryo sleep. "I can't trust my own mind," he forced out a weak smile before it faded into the air around him, "so until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing." "For everybody," he added. Steve heard all the layers of the statement his friend made.

The monotonous pacing had been disrupted by an unusual silence. The number of guards patrolling the prison cells had grown thin- almost negligible. The pacing came to a stop at the glass encasing the cell as a figure came out of the shadows, bringing a victorious smirk on the prisoner's face. "Took you long enough." Sam Wilson announced as Steve got him out.

"So where exactly are we going from here, Captain? We can't really walk back into the country." Sam questioned, climbing aboard the Quinjet, gladly taking in the inside of aircraft rescuing them. He didn’t miss the unfamiliar green-eyed women piloting it. "Barton? Lang?" Steve answered with a question. Clint got Wanda out of her restraints, allowing her to finally move her hands and emanate a release of her energy around her. "I don't care. I'm going back to my family. I'd rather disappoint my kids in person right now," Clint declared. "As much as I'd love to go with you, Captain, I'm with Barton on this one." Steve nodded. "I've contacted Fury. He and Hill have assured me their people will try to take care of this as best possible. And as for the two of you?" he turned towards Wanda and Sam. They looked at each other before turning back to Steve. "Do we have a mission?" Sam asked, his hands going behind his back. "More than one." "Good," Wanda announced, "when do we start?" Steve reciprocated their determination with his. "As soon as we get an old friend out of her exile." Clint laughed. "She's already waiting. I can feel her cursing and wondering what's taking you so long."

^J.B.B., ^Part 2, ^Part 3, ^Part 4, ^Part 5, ^Part 6, *Part 7, !Part 8, ^Part 9, ^Part 10, !Part 11, ^Part 12, Part 13

TAGLIST

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@greenarrowhead @magiclolipopqueen @choke-me-sweet-pea @classy-swiftt @smexylemony @hazzastyles2471 @lokis-lady-death @lokixme @l0kisbitch @bambamwolf87 @tarithenurse @hiddlestonstansworld @itheoneofmanyfandomsi @nilokoniloki @qualitynerdwasteland

J.B.B.

@lost-and-wandering-alone @imsunnysu @vxidnik @sebbies  @unknownuserhasjoined  @cauraphernelia @queen-of-elves @fuckidontknow @doitfortwitter @ladywintersoldat @introvertfangirl @alt-er-love-er-alt

(Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future fics or if you’d like to tell me how good/not good you found this fic/chapter. xx)

[wellhellofuture]

Ask Away (Steve/Peggy, 1/36 Shorts)

So I’m a little late to the Steggy Week 2018 celebrations but this has been rattling around my head for a while. Based on the 36 Questions to Fall in Love, which you can read about here: https://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/no-37-big-wedding-or-small.html

Basically I wrote a short for each question with Steve & Pegs. Some are very loosely based (like this one). Enjoy! (Hopefully will be on AO3 soon)

-

Question 1: Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest? (I took this more as “Where in the world would you want to be right now?”)

Steve Rogers was euphoric.

Actually, he was completely and utterly exhausted, but his running theory involved his body’s exhaustion being so thorough that he could no longer catalogue each ache and pain. Thus he had passed on to sheer, numbing contentment. In all fairness, he had as many reasons to appreciate his good fortune as well as his fatigue. He had all but given up on ever making it to Camp Lehigh, not after five consecutive enlistment rejections. Yet here he was, training to be a super soldier, no less!

Well, maybe he wasn’t at super soldier level quite yet. Steve winced as he settled himself on the unyielding metal bench of the mess hall tables. His rear end ached with every shift of his weight, his head pounded from lack of water throughout the hot summer day, and he was pretty sure he could taste blood. Even the simple act of lifting his fork to his mouth sent an uncomfortable twinge through his bicep. He wasn’t delusional; he knew there was next to no chance of the SSR selecting him as the Project Rebirth candidate. He’d seen his health record shoved into his face far too many times: he was not super solider material. Even on this, their first day, Private Hodges had stood out as the prime physical specimen. The only thing stopping the SSR from shooting Hodges up with the serum right this instant was their worry that the world wouldn’t be big enough to contain his super-soldier ego.

Nevertheless, Steve’s presence in the mess hall, and at the camp in general, gave him hope that he might be allowed to serve one day if he could just survive the training. He’d never be the leader galvanizing troops at the frontlines, but maybe he could be part of the charge into battle. After all, he’d finished his first mile run of his life today. Nevermind the fact that all the other recruits had kept running for nine more miles; Steve’s vision had gone black at lack of oxygen a tenth of the way into the run and he’d collapsed on the side of the road for the medic to find. But he’d given it his all, darn it. His lungs simply weren’t on the same level as his enthusiasm. (To Steve’s utter embarrassment, Agent Carter and General Phillips, along with the other recruits, had managed to lap back around the path before the medic could get him up off the ground. He could take the teasing from the guys, he’d had that all his life, but the concern and disappointment in his superiors’ eyes was almost more than he could bear.)

Around him, the walls of the mess hall reflected back general din of military men at mealtimes. The most creative curses he’d ever heard colored most sentences. Spoons and forks added a background clattering as recruits scraped every morsel of Slop #4 off of their cheap tin trays. Laughter and shouts of mirth added punches of color to the rowdy atmosphere. The general mood was upbeat, though to Steve it seemed that a sense of desperation colored the unrealistically chipper conversations. These men had known what they were signing on to, after all. In all likelihood, many would soon ship out to the front and not all would return. Steve supposed it was only natural to feel a sense of bravado, a protection from the stark vulnerability of war. He’d just never been one to hide his feelings behind crude humor or hyperbolic tales. He guessed that was probably because he wasn’t all that funny.

To Steve’s left, a larger guy with glasses—he’d been next to Steve in marshal. Russell? Romero?—made a lewd joke about the two women he’d been with the night before he’d enlisted as his captive audience howled with laughter. To Steve’s right, Hodges and his admirers were engaged in a rousing game of Have You Ever.

“Yeah, but hav’ya eva’ taken one gal out f’lunch and anotha’one out f’dinna?” This came from a big, beefy guy by the name of Miller, clearly proud of his accomplishment. His neighbor, a tall, wiry string bean of a guy from Georgia, looked him up and down before saying, “Didja eat ‘em both for dessert after, Mills?” He clapped Miller on the gut as the entire end of the table dissolved into snorts. Miller, on his part, looked offended.

“‘Course not, I boughta slice of cream pie!” he protested, which did not help the giggling all that much. Steve shared Miller’s confusion but supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world if he didn’t get the joke.

Steve turned his attention back to his tray and tried to muster up the enthusiasm to eat what passed as a meal in the army. Due to his health, he’d never been very active, and consequently rarely had much of an appetite. Despite his excruciating day of physical training, the mound on his tray looked about as appetizing as the mucus he’d coughed up when he had that particularly bad case of pneumonia back in January, but if he didn’t eat he’d certainly pass out again tomorrow. He huffed a sigh of resignation, grimacing at the stiffness as his chest expanded, and set to the task at hand. He was two swallows into his meal when the seats across from him, empty thus far, were suddenly filled by the bodies of Agent Carter and General Phillips.

“Hello, boys,” Phillips barked. “Sorry to break up the party, but Carter and I are your dinner dates for the evening.” Evidently not sorry, and not particularly bothered by the opinions of the recruits, Phillips plunked himself down next to Hodges. Agent Carter settled in a bit more primly, directly across from Steve. He blushed a pale red for no reason other than the presence of a member of the fairer sex and ducked his head to avoid her gaze.

As Agent Carter settled in, a whispered comment came from the far end of the table followed by poorly-disguised guffaws. Phillips turned and raised a bushy eyebrow. 

“Got somethin’ to say down there?” he ground out. “I’m sure Agent Carter and I would love to hear your words of wisdom.” Miller and company, from whom the comment and laugher had originated, at least had the decency to look guilty.

The conversation, stalled by the arrival of the higher-ups, slowly regained momentum, this time a bit more suitable for public ears. Soon, the whole table joined in.

“I’m plannin’ on goin’ out west after the war, fellas. I hear California’s real nice. And all the dames out there wear nothin’ but swimsuits all the damn day. Some of ‘em even wear those flashy two pieces,” Hodges said with a sleazy smirk. It might’ve just been Steve’s imagination, but he thought he saw the slightest tick of a muscle in Agent Carter’s jaw as she delicately scooped a bite of her dinner onto her fork.

“Y’know where I’d go if I could go anywhere? Florida. Get on a boat, grab some lady friends, couple beers. Spend a whole month just fishin’,” Russell said with a slight smile. “They got real good fishin’ companies down there. Could probably make myself a decent livin’, and have some pretty damn good eatin’ too,” he mused, his eyes misty with thoughts of a future far from walls to scale and barbed wire to crawl under. Then his neighbor elbowed the arm that propped up his chin and the moment was lost, traded for the reality of wartime.

From then, the question went around the table clockwise, each man sharing where he wished he could be right then. A short, stocky fellow from Texas wanted to go to Colorado to go skiing; Bulgarelli, from Jersey, wanted to get fondue in Switzerland; MacGregor wanted to see the belly dancers in Latin America. One by one, the recruits offered a tiny sliver of the dream that kept them focused, motivated them through the endless tortures of training. Some spoke briefly; others waxed poetic on the specific dinner or event they wished to experience after it was all over. By the time the question rolled around to the man on Agent Carter’s right, they’d been talking for the better part of half an hour. The mess hall was nearly empty and the clock on the wall revealed that it was well past time to report to their barracks. Steve got the distinct impression that Agent Carter and Phillips were taking everyone’s answer quite seriously, and it dawned on him that eating with them at dinner yet another way of screening the Project Rebirth candidates.

Kowalski wrapped up his tale of diving off the coast of the Bermudas and turned to Agent Carter. “Well, Agent, y’got someplace you’d rather be?” he asked boldly. Agent Carter raised a perfect eyebrow and leveled him with a cool stare. 

“Why yes, in fact I do. You boys are not the only ones allowed to think of a time after this war. I think I would quite like to head straight to New York. There’s a club all my American friends can’t stop talking about, some bird name or something. I think I’d spend my first free evening there,” she finished. “General, I do believe it’s your turn.”

Agent Carter turned away from Kowalski to fiddle with her wristwatch. Her gaze caught Steve’s and he managed to hold it for 3 whole seconds before he felt warmth creeping up his neck. He hurriedly glanced down at his long-congealed leftovers, but couldn’t get the image of prim, proper, stunning Agent Carter walking into a club like she owned the place. Perhaps in a dress to match her lipstick, always that perfect crisp crimson, even after hours of surveying recruits in the sun. He completely missed General Phillips’s quiet, gruff answer of “Home to my wife” as well as several descriptions of a beach with women and no one else in sight. Steve couldn’t miss the continued tightening of Agent Carter’s jawline with each continued answer along that vein. It was finally Miller who broke her facade, not that Steve was surprised.

“I’d go t’France right this moment if I could. Them dames out there don’t wear tops at th’beach, fellas, whatcha think ‘bout that? Spread out, wine ‘em and dine ‘em,” Miller said, leaning back with his hands clasped behind his head. His face clearly betrayed what exactly he planned to do after the wine ‘em and dine ‘em part of his fantasy.

Agent Carter let out a huff, clearly exasperated. “You are aware of the war happening in France right now, aren’t you, Private Miller? Or are you just here for the ambiance and fine cuisine?” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Miller, stuck on the tri-syllabic ‘ambiance’, opened his mouth, thought better of it, and shut it again. Steve grinned into his plate.

As the question continued to circle the table, Steve stole glances at Agent Carter out of the corner of his eye. A spot of color had appeared on the tops of her cheeks, likely a result of her little outburst. She was, quite literally, the most gorgeous woman Steve had ever seen in his life. She was --

“Rogers? Private Rogers!” It took General Phillips snapping in his face for Steve to break from his reverie. He belatedly realized the whole table was staring at him, waiting for his answer. Hodges was in the middle of an eye roll so intense Steve wondered idly if his eyes might not come back from that far into his skull.

“Oh, I, uh,” he began. “Er…”

He glanced around, mind helpfully blank of the list of places he and Bucky had made when Bucky had gotten his first job and they’d dreamed of traveling the world together with those thirty cents per hour he'd made. As Steve scanned the mess hall, desperately hoping for something to pop into his head, he caught a glimpse of the flag whipping around the flagpole through the window. Lit up by a lone bulb in the dusk, the white stars and stripes seemed to glow against the royal blue and scarlet background. Memories of each of his five enlistment rejections flipped through his head, accompanied by feelings of unimportance and uselessness. He’d pushed for so long to serve under that flag, refusing to give up while there were still people out there suffering. A whisper of a smile dancing on his lips, Steve had his answer.

“I think…I would stay right here. Y’know, get used to the whole slop stuff. Maybe if I eat enough of it I’ll sink right to the bottom of the mud and swim right under the barbs by next week,” he joked. There was a moment of silence, then the whole table erupted in hoots and laughter. Even General Phillips looked heavenward as if for patience.

But Agent Carter simply gave him a good long look, tilting her head ever so slightly to the left. He shivered under her gaze but held it, encouraged by the hunch that he’d impressed her. A second ticked by, then another, then ever so slowly, a smile drew up one corner of her mouth. With the briefest of nods, she turned to Phillips.

“Seeing as the only place these boys are headed in the near future is back on the training course, I’d say it’s high time for lights out. Shall we?” she said, slipping off the bench smoothly. “If no one besides Rogers reports to supper tomorrow we shall know where you all have gone. Though Miller, I’d advise against France. Wine and topless women aren’t worth having your brain blown off. Not that you seem to have much of one.”

[tremendouslystupendoustyrant]

Imagine Overwatch Christmas

Imagine the Overwatch Groups celebrating separate holidays during December

Imagine Sombra celebrating The Day of the Virgin on the 12th. Imagine Reaper and McCree joining in because they have both have ties to the culture.

Imagine Tracer, Moira, Junkrat and Roadhog all discussing Boxing Day sales and being surprised when no one else has heard of it.

Genji and Hanzo celebrating Omisoka by cleaning the entire house after Christmas.

All the different food made by all the different cultures. Zenyatta sharing kuswar and kidiyo (Kidiyo is Genji’s Favorite.)

Mei giving out apples on Christmas Eve to all of the members. No one recognizing what this means.

Widowmaker insisting on the wood in the fireplace being sprinkled with red wine and leaving it to burn all night. Reaper and Sombra sitting with her when they find her still up, sitting by the fire at 3am.

Zarya baking kozulya cookies and not telling everyone else that she doesn’t normally celebrate Christmas until January 7th but just this once.

Lucio giving small gifts to everyone else throughout the month and never telling anyone but everyone knows its him because whenever they open it, he gets this huge smile on his face.

Moira doesn’t really care for the holiday but the others see her light a small candle in the windowsill of her room. It burns all night.

The Group going out to get a Christmas tree, Reinhardt is insistent on the biggest one and he laughs his face full of joy as he and Roadhog lug it home. He later gets drunk on eggnog and begins singing songs in German that no one else understands but they find it festive anyway.

Reinhardt being very confused when Jack asks him about a Christmas pickle.

Ana cooking fata and bringing a big plate of kahk and scolding Pharah when she nearly eats the entire plate by herself.

Mercy baking cookies with Ana, Pharah and being joined with Zenyatta and Genji. They all start sharing their own cookie recipes with each other.

Doomfist brings his own firecrackers which he lets Efi play with cause its Christmas. Orisa being extremely surprised when these small things burst into loud noise and fire.

Tracer and Sombra put an ugly sweater on Bastion who loves it a bit too much.

Torbjorn bringing a bunch of food that none of them can pronounce right but taste really good.

Symmetra teaching Tracer and Efi how to make a star lantern.

Everyone getting presents and everyone being surprised when Junkrat hands out handmade scrap metal presents of certain objects. (He gives Mei a snowman and she nearly cries.) Junkrat of course gets lots of explosives.

Efi being extremely surprised when she opens up her present to find a limited edition box of lucio-ohs with his autograph.

Just Overwatch Christmas.

Edit: OVERWATCH CHRISTMAS PART2

Torbjorn and Brigitte and their massive family building a giant paper mâché  Yule goat in their yard. Everyone else looking in awe until Torbjorn lights a match and the goat begins to burn. The entire Swedish family cheer as everyone else looks on in horror and confusion. 

Junkrat dressing up as Krampus for the entire first week of December and frightening the others with his chains and bells. Tracer only pretends to be scared. (She’s pretending, she is.)

Instead of a typical Ham or Turkey for Christmas dinner, Genji and Hanzo bring KFC. Everyone else eating is confused but ya know, this isn’t too bad.

Reinhardt dressing up as St. Nikolaus and leaving all kinds of little chocolate, oranges and toys in everyone’s shoes on December 6th. He sits on a massive bag of presents but in order to get their handpicked presents, everyone has to recite a poem or sing a song or draw a picture (something to make Reinhardt laugh). Some do is gloriously. Everyone adores Lucio’s freestyle beatboxing. Reaper, refuses but quietly hands Reinhardt a hand-drawn card. On the cover is “YOU MAKE ME DIE!” And inside “OF LAUGHTER.” Reinhardt cracks up and gives him two presents. 

Zarya getting way to drunk on eggnog with Reinhardt and in according with her tradition, jumps into a freezing lake. She forgets it’s frozen over but it doesn’t matter when the ice breaks upon impact. She comes back and is like ‘THAT IS NOT NEARLY COLD ENOUGH! WEAK ICE!’ 

Sombra insists on building a Nacimientos in the yard. At first it’s only the donkey but as the month progresses, more and ore characters are added. Widowmaker asking where the butcher is (nobody else understands). 

Surprisingly, the faces change of overwatch heroes. Roadhog’s face over Baby Jesus on Christmas Eve is something none of them will forget.

Tracer challenging absolutely everyone to Christmas cracker pulling competitions. Every time she loses, she rewinds time and wins. She and Junkrat become to competitive that the loud sound of the crackers popping sets off Bastion and then nobody is having a good time. Christmas Crackers have been banned. 

On January 6th, everybody else is busy packing up all the decorations and tree but Moira just sips wine and relaxes. Sombra and Tracer have already tried to call her out on her abuse of a holiday but good luck telling that to Moira. She pets her new lab rats (who won’t last the week) that she got for Christmas.

Junkrat starting an argument with McCree that Santa doesn’t use reindeer, he uses kangaroos to pull his sled and McCree getting more and more pissed. 

Junkrat and Roadhog insist on barbecue for Boxing Day. That is until Junkrat’s bad attempts at barbecue end up setting fire to the tree. Indoor barbecue is banned.

Lucio directs a Os Pastores play. Tracer ends up stealing baby Jesus and Lucio has never been prouder of their production (much to everyone else surprise). 

Lucio reminds everybody to leave a sock on their window to exchange for a gift. He’s extremely excited when he wakes up that morning with a brand new soundboard in Lucio colors. No one knows what happened to the sock. Reaper has an extra sock on that morning.

Reinhardt showing Efi, Lucio and D.va how to make ‘Advent Kranz’ using a ring of fir branches and candles. 

Baptiste takes everybody’s shoes and cleans them the day before Christmas Eve. Nobody questions him until they all find their shoes missing. A hunt leads them under the porch where every shoe is filled with straw. 

Baptiste feeds Efi ‘Anisette’ and despite the sugar, passes out with a red face. Baptiste is forbidden from feeding any of the kids again. 

Right next to the christmas tree is a Banana Tree. Symmetra insisted on decorating it herself. 

Moira carries a long pole with a holly bush around for days and sings a weird song about a wren. She asks for donations to the wren, (which turns out to be one of her test subjects). Everyone still donates.

Genji and Hanzo make a delicious christmas cake with strawberries and whipped cream. 

Sombra makes a piñata for Christmas Day. Everyone as having fun until Reinhardt barged in and hit it with his hammer. The candy was destroyed. She also makes a Rosca de Reyes cake. She ends up getting the piece with a hidden baby Jesus figure and claims she’s now Jesus’ godparent. 

Everyone taking the Christmas display way too seriously. D.va takes it so seriously that she even puts lights on their satellite. 

Mercy gets drunk and gives everyone party invitations for ‘FIGUGEGL!’. Her party is nothing more than a giant pot of Fondue. 

[dancing-with-the-madmen]

@middleagedmorticia, since you asked in the tags, no - the place setting from the party isn't the same as the practice set. Stede's layout makes a lot more sense, but he still gets it a bit wrong.

A - these forks are identical, and they're both fish forks (the little notches on the outside tines are for picking bones out of the fish). Not a huge sin, though, if you don't have multiple specialty forks - it would do in a pinch to also spear veggies for the salad course. So these are in the right places.

B - Dinner fork, and it's in the right place.

C - Stede identifies this as a caviar spoon, but metal changes the taste - caviar spoons should be carved out of mother-of-pearl. This looks like a demitasse spoon to me, which should be above the plate to be used at the end of the meal with a coffee digestif.

D - Stede identifies this as an escargot fork, but those only have 2 tines. This is a cocktail fork, used for skewering a seafood hors d'oeuvres. It's in the right place, but it is a little weird that it's so conspicuously from a different silver set than the rest.

E - Stede identifies this as a lobster fork, but those are really distintive looking - long and skinny with 2 small hooks at the end (they look more like a fondue fork than anything else) for rooting around in the slender parts of the lobster carapace in order to get at their delicious leg meats. This is an oyster fork - the rounded bowl part is for slicing the membrane that connects the meat to the shell. It's an amuse-bouche course, though, so it's in the right place.

F - Dinner knife. Yup - that's where it goes.

G - Butter knife. It goes on the bread plate.

H - Soup spoon. Should go on the outside.

I - Two identical teaspoons. Like the fish forks, not really a sin to use the same spoon if you don't have the specialty spoon for the job. In this case, I'm guessing it's meant to do double duty as a place fork for a pasta dish and a sorbet spoon for the palette cleanser. If the soup spoon was in the right place, then these would be too.

J - Stede misidentifies this as a melon spoon. Melon spoons have a pointed bowl with a serrated edge for cutting the melon. This is just a fancy sugar spoon.

So only a few missteps, but you could still navigate your way through a meal pretty effortlessly with this lay out.

Okay, so I'm a dick about spoons

I’m not, actually. A good hostess knows that her first priority is the comfort of her guests, so if someone uses the wrong spoon? NBD. If someone else starts being a dick about it? You find a way to shut that shit down post haste and redirect the feast of reason and the flow of soul.

What I AM a dick about is brazen hypocrisy. And as I was rewatching and taking screenshots for Nefarious Purposes, I happened to pause on this, which (setting aside the fact that forks weren't in popular use at all in Northern Europe and North America until the end of the 1700s, much less fancy types for different purposes) feels like an easter-egg for etiquette nerds from the set-dressers:

Like, poor Ed. He never stood a chance.

But that’s not his fault; he could have been schooled in the proper use of flatware from birth and still would have been stymied by this mess. There are pieces from AT LEAST 10 different silverware sets here, and practically nothing is in the right place to facilitate any sort of reasonable progression through a meal. Also? There are just so, SO many duplicates.

A 12-course meal should go: hors-d'oeuvres, amuse-bouche, soup, appetizer, salad, fish, main course (usually a red meat or game meat dish), palate cleaner (sorbet), second main course (usually a fowl dish), cheese course, dessert, and end of the meal dessert (often with coffee to promote digestion)

Starting left to right, we’ve got: A - Dinner knife. Should be directly to the right of the plate. It COULD be part of the service to his left, but even if that’s the case, that means not everyone has the same number/type/placement of implements, and that the spacing of guests is too close to properly accommodate all the place settings, so I’m going to assume everything on camera is meant for Ed.

B - Butter knife. Belongs on the bread plate.

C - Soup spoon. Belongs as the outermost spoon on the right side of the plate.

D - Place spoon. Belongs to the left of the soup spoon on the right of the plate.

E - Seafood mallet. I can’t really find anything about where this goes in a place setting, and I’ve only used one where crabs or lobster were the main/only course. My instinct is to say it should be in the amuse-bouche spot (outer right, save 1) with the lobster fork in the corresponding spot on the left of the plate, but I could be wrong.

F - Fruit fork. Fruit is served at the end of the meal. This one goes closest to the plate on the left side. G - Oyster fork. Yes, hors d’oeuvres come first, but this is the only fork that goes on the right of the plate. Thanks for playing.

H - Escargot fork. Ok, the fuck are they serving at this meal? You’ve got 12 courses. You pick ONE item for each course. Based on the silverware so far, we’re going heavy on the hors d’oeuvres. At least it’s on the correct side of the plate?

I - Salad fork. A new course? Be still my beating heart. And yeah, it’s in the right place.

J - Dinner fork. Also a new course, and also in the right place. Will wonders never cease.

K - A FUCKING TERRAPIN FORK. Oh - you gonna serve a chunky broth AFTER your main course? That’s an appetizer, you amateurs. You fools!

L - Escargot tongs. Sure. Why not there.

M - Fish fork. Like, you’re not even in the vicinity of the right place for this (to the right of the plate, in between the salad and dinner forks).

N - Ooops. There’s the lobster fork we were missing earlier.

O - That’s just an oyster fork from a different silverware service. If you were trying to pass it off as a dessert fork, those have 4 tines with a bar that transects the tines.

P - That’s just a butter knife from a different silverware service. Were you trying to pass it off as a cheese knife? Too bad that in a formal dining setting you have a special fork that does double duty for cutting and spearing cheese.

Q - Demitasse spoon. Coffee’s for closing the meal. This goes above the plate.

R - Sugar tongs. Those go with the sugar cubes in the sugar bowl, not at each individual place setting.

S - Possibly another terrapin fork? It’s hard to see, but whatever it is, it doesn’t go there.

So fuck Gabriel and Antoinette, for the provincial bumpkins that they are. Trying to just dump the contents of several silverware drawers on the table and call it culture so they can laugh at my boy? Go die in a fire. Oh, wait.

[macaronsanddaydreams]

💗SO SUSAN . Sharing my first impressions on the June 2019 bag from @sosusancosmetics color curate bag. Color Curate is a monthly beauty subscription that curates breakthrough makeup formulations with natural ingredients. You get 4 full-sized beauty items + limited edition makeup bag for $20.95/month. The June bag is worth ($106 value)! . So Susan Cosmetics Dream Maker in Private Jet | The iridescent sheen from this highlighter is absolutely perfect for summer concerts. A little goes a long way. . So Susan Cosmetics Rose Gold Palette | These shadows are super creamy and pigmented. I don't get much kick up with brushes and work even better with fingers. . Trifle Cosmetics Eye Candy in Fondue | This duo is really pigmented. I can get a basic smokey eye look with this. Jelly Pong Pong Lip Patine in Artifact | Goes on creamy and leaves a nice metallic sheen on my lips. I like to layer this over a balm for a bit of pop. So Susan Cosmetics Limited Edition June makeup bag | Nice quality beautiful print bag however the color is a bit too bold for my taste. I prefer bags that are more on the minimalistic side and patterns that aren’t too busy. . I enjoyed the Rose Gold Palette & the lip pencil the most. Don't forget to swipe to see swatches. Thanks @sosusancosmetics for sending. To get your own bag head over to @sosusancosmetics . Do you use vegan cruelty free makeup? . http://www.macaronsanddaydreams.com . . *prgifted. all opinions are my own. https://www.instagram.com/p/By89BKtH7mA/?igshid=1ruxql0hhmtkk

[uniformbravo]

heyo its another ancient recovered animorphs liveblog post heho here we go

---

bird torture: a fun animorphs book

we have reached true ax-tobias fusion. maximum shorm

-

Back when I was a regular kid, school dances made me a little uneasy. I've always been a loner and all, and they just weren't my thing. But now! Now that I spent most of my life as a red-tailed hawk - hunting, flying, protecting my meadow - dances made me feel even weirder.

this is so funny??? imagine if marco was even a 5th as funny as tobias

-

Bird-boy at the ball.

gkldfkdg fuckin,, Yea

-

Did I mention that my name is Tobias? Just Tobias. Even if it were safe to tell you my last name, I'm not sure I'd know what to say. Whether it would be a human name, an Andalite name, or just "hawk." I don't know. Because, see, I'm a little of each.

Tobias Hawk. birdman boyo local forest resident feather friend tobias the third and fourth, son of The Blue Man

-

It felt good to hear Jake say I was indispensable, but: with Jake you could never be sure anymore what was sincere. And what was just expedient. He'd been the most open of guys, back in the old days. What you saw with Jake was what you got. But he'd been a leader for a long time now. He'd learned to say what he needed to say.

Jake needed me as one of the Animorphs. He liked me, respected me, was happy for me when I was happy. And, when he had to, he used me without regard for anything but winning.

can everyone stop offering their insights as to how jake has changed its taking years off my life

-

<Been boning up on famous leaders, haven't you?>

what does this mean. what the fuck does this mean. like i know these books were written a while ago but specifically what does this particular sentence mean right here right now (there is every possibility that it’s some kind of bizarre typo tho bc when ur getting things like “p J_L [-I p -P 1,” somewhat regularly u learn to give these books the benefit of the doubt but like. Still)

-

ax: *guiding tobias through his first andalite morph and sharing andalite customs with him* me: *biting my fist, holding back tears* m-maximum shorm

-

tobias is always going on about his amazing hawk vision and honestly im laughing bc im just imagining him looking at everything super zoomed in all the time like when u look through binoculars at someone who’s standing right in front of you i mean i know it doesn’t work like that bu t

-

<Marco, what exactly are you doing in the fondue?> Rachel asked. <Exactly? Well ... I wanted to see if it would still taste good sucked up through a fly mouth. You gonna help me or do you just want to bust me? > <Let him get eaten,> Rachel advised.

rachel, my guiding light, my queen

-

ok like. no offense but like. i have class tomorrow morning, i have to get up at 7, which is 4 hours from now, right. it’s 3am and i should be asleep right now, but instead i thought it’d be a fun idea to read some animorphs, u know, my favorite book series which always gives me happy emotions, like right now how it’s doing that by making me read this goddamn fuckening Bird Torture and the saddest fucking memories in the goddamn world happening all at once what the fuck??? like irl this is so fucked up this book is some new wave shit tier garbage why are u making me read this!!!

i Like tobias i literally dont Need this in my life, theyre physically torturing him and he’s dissociating super hard and reliving vivid memories of his shitty fucking human life and i dont have time for this i just dont! im tired!! stop hurting my son!!! im suing K.A. Applegate and Friends™ for the unfettered destruction of my emotional well-being what the Fuck

(you’ll have to excuse me for liveblogging literally none of it ok i tried but it’s just so much. it’s so much. theres no way to liveblog that, the only way to experience it is to read the whole thing all in one go and tangibly feel your soul slipping from your body until ur just a motionless husk hosting the echoes of the horrors you’ve just borne witness to, trust me on this)

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I started to run toward Rachel. She saw me and smiled. I slowed as I neared her, breathing hard. And suddenly I had my arms around her. I buried my face in her hair. She held me tightly. - I smiled. "Let's fly." "Yeah," she agreed. "Right after I do this." She kissed me. "Okay, now let's fly," she said and laughed her wild, wicked, self-mocking Rachel laugh. - Who am I? What am I? A bird. A boy. Something not quite human. Something more than human. The person Rachel loves.

i didnt go through all that andalite-themed buildup and 25 pages of bird torture and identity crises only to be met with this rachel/tobias heterosexual agenda propaganda in all honesty let’s be fuckig real here,,,

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it is now the next morning i got 2 and a half hrs sleep thanks tobias

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[moving on to a new book]

me when someone starts talkin shit

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But I really am your basic, average girl.

and im here to save the world, u cant stop me cause im kim po ssi ble

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<What am I looking for, exactly?> <A doodle. It's, um, of a .. . a heart,>  I stammered. I tried to climb up the desk leg. But it was metal. My claws couldn't get a grip. <Think I see it,> Rachel answered. <lf the heart has "Cassie Loves Jake" printed in the middle with a really dorky cupid drawn next to it.>

cassie

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“Okay, there's that girl, Holly Perry, you know, she transferred from Polk?" Marco said from his seat on one of the big bales of hay in my barn. "I want my Chee to ask her out for me. I tried a couple of times, but this thing happened with my voice." "He started clucking like the chicken he is," Rachel commented.

God,

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aldrea keeps referring to tobias as “the nothlit” rather than his name and im not rly sure what it’s supposed to indicate bc she’s literally a nothlit too? and she takes pride in being a nothlit, completely thinks of herself as hork-bajir and not andalite so it can’t be othering?? it’s also kind of interesting bc tobias completely thinks of himself as hawk and not human (well kind of) so it’s like? parallels??

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hte end