#thank you for this my friend ... i am very much giggling and kickin my feet at Wine Night With Charles And The Mice

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Erik, come get your husband, he's getting drunk with the mice again.

Happy New Year, Snap! :]

he is having a GIRLS NIGHT this his rare moment of PEACE 🗣️

[70swonderpoisonstark]

Wait, you survived? ( II )

// You and Steve survive the plane wreck and end up seventy years in the future. Everything’s different and the only person that understands the confusion and pain of losing your entire world is your now dead husband’s best friend. When the two of you are forced to adapt to the world around you, things can get complicated. //

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~  Sinful and forbidden pleasures are like poisoned bread; 

         they may satisfy appetite for the moment,

                but there is death in them at the end.  ~

  The two of you settled into modern life as best as you could. Certain aspects of night life were too intense for you both, so you spent a majority of time at home watching movies and catching up on everything you missed. The nights always started the same, you'd finally decide to go to a local bar, get a couple drinks, and slowly mold into society. However, the men were much less polite than they used to be. It was on more than one occasion that Steve had to pull your bar stool closer to his to send a subtle message to the very loud people you've come into contact with.

This night was no different, you'd found a kickin new bar within walking distance of the apartment and agreed to try it out. Six o'clock was when the two of you normally decided to go, people were normally still at home after getting off work, and the crazies usually didn't come out till much later. You'd tucked in your black silk tank into your black ripped jeans, securing the outfit with a "designer" belt. Dressing nice every time you went out was one habit Steve and you couldn't shake. You'd see people everywhere wearing all sorts of interesting outfits, tried to go out in something similar, and never made it out the door. Old habits die hard, huh?

Steve opened the door for you as you walked into the bar, smiling down at you with his sweet smile, you'd get him a date one of these days, you just knew it. The two of you chatted, talking about inventions, medical discoveries, and how great modern cars were. You were admiring a 68' shelby cobra mustang with Steve as you heard a loud 'THUD' in the seat closest to yours. You continued to talk about how innovative it was to put such a powerful motor in such a light car when you heard somebody clear their throat very loud, and too close to your ear. Your eyes dart towards the seat next to you, checking your surroundings before engaging was second nature at this point, noticing a tall, large man staring holes into the side of your head. He was slouched over a dark beer, clumsily wiping foam from his lips as he cleared his throat again, clearly trying to get your attention.

"Can I help you?" You said, annoyance filling your words as you spoke. Even in the 40's, you'd always been very, aggressive when it came to unwanted attention. Watching his pupils dilate slowly as he attempted to take all of you in.

"IIIIIII've gotta say miss, you are tooooo pretty to be here. Waddya say we get outta here, get you somehwere nicer, easier on your back?" He winked, or at least tried to, what he actually did looked more like the beginning of a stroke than anything else. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him off when another booming voice came from behind you.

"I think the lady is fine just where she is, pal." Steve didn't understand why men always had to talk to you. If they were making actual conversation he'd leave you alone, but they always tried terrible one liners that always referenced sexual encounters. Steve pulled you and your seat close enough to his that your thigh was gently resting against his.

"Hey buddy," the drunk man started, swaying as he spoke. "If the lady didn't wanna be tawked to, she wouldn't have worn such a sexy outfit, ain't that right, sugar?" Steve jumped out of his chair, getting in between you and the now very startled man.

"The lady can wear whatever she wants too, and creeps like you get to leave her the hell alone." Steve was tense, his shoulders and back puffed and flexed, bowing him out and making him looked twice as intimidating as usual.

"I don't have to listen to you golden boy, she wants me to feel her up, I can tell just by lookin at the bitch." Steve's eyes widened at the blatant disrespect, insulting a woman because she wasn't interested? What happened to flirting, courting, dates? He expected you to hear one sentence and sleep with him? It rattled Steve's brain. He pulled back immediately, ready to use his strength to knock the fat loser on his ass when you stepped in front of him. Chest to chest, he lowered his fist to look down at you.

"Steve, love. That won't be necessary." You said, ruby red lips turned up in an innocent smile.

"See tough guy, little lady can't wait to get a chance at me." He winked, or maybe had a second stroke, you'd probably never know actually.

"Oh you're right, I can't wait to get a chance at you." You enunciated the 'T' roughly, smiling up at the drunk man who felt entitled to your attention, winked, and uppercutted him straight on his ass. You shook your hand, surprised that the impact didn't hurt more. "Softy." You chuckled and tossed back the rest of your tequila shot. The other patrons at the bar, who were already watching the scene unfold, laughed as the man laid unconscious on the ground after a single punch. Steve huffed, rolling his eyes at the fact that he didn't see that coming. You were always ready to fight, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that you'd stop him from knocking somebody out, only so YOU could do it.

"You know what (Y/N), I could've done that for you." Steve said, half hurt he didn't get to fight somebody. It had been seventy YEARS. The dumbass in Steve was itching for a bad decision.

"Yes, but what fun would that have been for me?" You say slyly, lightly punching him on the shoulder as you both sit back down at your seats. Steve orders another round, shaking his head and laughing, if Bucky could see the two of you he'd be racking his brain as to how the two of you always caused so much trouble when you were together. The pure mention of you two being left alone together made Bucky's dumbass alarm go off.

"This round's on the house, enjoy your double ma'am." The bartender slid your drinks towards you.

"Miss!" You half yelled as she walked away, "Miss! I only ordered a single."

"Oh I know, the first one's for hitting the dude, the second shot's because you looked so good doing it." She batted her dark eyelashes after she spoke, a deep blush creeping into your cheeks.

"W-well thank you." You squeaked out, men complimenting you was boring, but when a also pretty women compliments you, it hits differently.

"You cold?" Steve glanced over, noticing your slight shiver.

"Only a little." You were always cold, constantly, which is probably why Steve looked at you so indignantly. He shook of his leather jacket, draping it gently along your shoulders.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks." The two of you continued to talk until eight, both of you knowing it was time to leave before you ran into more crazies. The walk home was quiet, you walked along the streets, in awe of how much New York has changed, it still felt the same, but everywhere you looked were tall glass buildings, skyscrapers that went beyond the clouds, and cars that appeared to be straight out of a sci-fy movie.

Once you were back home you plopped onto the couch.

"Steeeeve, please?" You held your foot up revealing the four inch heeled boots you'd been wearing the whole night, begging for Steve to take them off.

"Is this all I am to you? A glorified shoe remover?" He said as he crouched down and unzipped your left boot.

"No, you're also my jacket provider." You giggled as you wrapped the oversized leather jacket over your entire torso.

"You know I'll get it back." Steve was thankful you hadn't been too affected by the ice. You were still the fun, carefree, badass you'd always been and continued to lift his spirits with little moments like this. He couldn't help but smile looking at you wrap your arms protectively around his jacket, further burrowing yourself into the couch.

"Never!" You yelled as you covered yourself with a pillow, giggling as he attempted to get it from you. You and Steve moved quickly, wiggling free from the others grasp over and over again, each of you attempting to keep the jacket. You flipped behind the couch, landing lightly on your feet.

"Try as you may, we both know who's quicker on their feet, Stevie." You threw a blanket at his face and ran to your room, avoiding his blind grab.

"You really are a child, you know that!." Steve yelled out as he followed you to your room, quietly looking for a sign of where you hid.

You stifled a laugh from behind the door, watching him stalk about your room, quickly turning corners and checking under the bed.

"Oh no, I guess you're nowhere to be found. Guess I'l just have to wait in the living room for your- SURRENDER!" He screamed as he aggressively opened the door you'd had hidden behind.

"Gotcha." He lifted you up over his shoulder and ran to the living room, ducking under the doorframe as he went from room to room. He threw you on the couch, already bent over in laughter as you looked up shocked at him, you forgot he was actually strong underneath that dorky demeanor.

"Wow, those german steroids really did work, huh?" Another smile, and a head shake from Steve before he plopped down next to you on the couch.

"I thought me throwing a car at the Polish Hydra base would've made that obvious." He quipped back.

"Nah, that car barely weighed anything. It was a very light car, doesn't count."

"A light car? you're kidding right, you did hear the words that came out of your mouth?" More laughter erupted as the two of you talked and joked, a sense of ease overcoming the room. You were happy you had Steve to help you with all this. The being frozen in one time and thawed out in another, it was a lot, but having Steve with you made it less lonely.

"Yeah yeah okay Steven." You yawned, glancing at the time. "Steve! We almost forgot about our movie!" You jumped up for the remote, turning it on with a surprising quickness as you browsed the Netflix for a movie. "AGH! There's too many, you pick, I'm gonna get out of these clothes." You tossed him the remote and turned towards your room, suddenly remembering what you'd found at target earlier that day.

"Oh, and I've got a surprise for you, you're gonna LOVE it." You suppress a laugh, trying not to make it obvious about what you'd found.

Steve eyed you curiously, knowing you were up to something, and he was definitely NOT going to love it. You pranced away before he could say anything.

You ripped the clothes out of your bag, laughing to yourself as you pulled out the tank top and shorts, looking them over with pure glee as you thought about Steve's reaction. It was a blue tank top with a shield on the front reading 'My shield is no match for your heart' a weirdly accurate image of Steve and his shield, and grey shorts with red, white, and blue stars. You threw them on, and pulled up the matching knee high socks covered in the shield and stars. You walked through the long hallway.

"I found a movie, Austin Powers? It might be informational about the 60's, and the 90's. Looks good, don't know how much it will really-" Steve's words were forgotten as you strutted into the living room. You had to be kidding.

"What the hell is that?!" He asked, half annoyed, half flattered. You looked good, and were covered in, well, him. That doesn't sound right, but he knew what he meant.

"Oh, this? I'm embracing my country with open arms Stevie, get with the program!" You laughed as you sat down next to THE Captain America.

"He's a living legend, you know. Captain America, the heart and soul of this country. What every American should aspire to be. He saved us from the Nazi's and Hydra single handedly, never resting until he knew we were safe." You clutched your heart dramatically, fake fainting into his lap as you spoke.

"What would this country ever do without him?!" You tossed theatrically, clutching your imaginary pearls, trying to keep a straight face.

Steve didn't know whether to laugh, or fake throw up. He had been the talk of the town since he unfroze, thankfully SHIELD didn't give out your address, or you'd be swarmed with reporters just like they were every morning. Everything was Captain America now, cups, dog collars, car stickers. There wasn't a single thing he could think of that they hadn't added his face too. NOw they had this, Steve wouldn't be surprised if they Captain America themed lingerie.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N)." He looked down at your smiling face, thanking God he had somebody from the past.

"I know right?" You turned towards the TV, being too comfortable to actually change positions now. "What did you decide on again?" You said, yawning halfway throughout your question.

"Austin Powers. Let's see if you actually stay awake for this one." Steve chuckled, remembering how easily you fell asleep when the two of you watched movies.

Steve pressed play and started the movie. It was very confusing. He was sure the bad guy and the good guy were the same person, but somehow nobody said anything? And why was freezing and coming back apart of this movie? Did it just come out? Was this because of the two of you? The time changed too, and were they in London, was that really what London was like in the 60's? By the time Steve got any answers you were softly snoring in his lap, hands on top of the other under your head. He watched your chest rise and fall, admiring how peaceful you looked as you slept. He curled your hair behind your ear, eyes lighting up as you smiled in your sleep. Steve spent the rest of the movie half watching you, barely understanding the movie even though you would definitely be asking about it tomorrow morning. He couldn't help but think how tiring this must be for you. You had always been the caretaker, even out on mission you were constantly tending to the team, emotionally and physically. Some wounds never healed, but you always did your best, and the guys loved you like family for it. Steve knew this was no different, even if you hadn't been frozen, life after the war, losing Bucky, life would've taken a toll on you eventually, and though you were skilled in having others open up, talking about your emotions was not your strong suit. He knew this was weighing on you, having to adjust to such a different world. You were burying yourself in learning the new ways of the world and helping Steve adjust, that you never took time to grieve your old life.

Steve turned the tv off, he wasn't really paying any attention to it anyways. He wrapped an arm around your legs and your neck, carrying you down the  dark hall to your room. Smiling softly as you curled up into him, barely protesting the sudden change of position. He pushes your already open door wide enough for him to slip through. He bent down slightly, pulling your perfectly made sheets down low enough to slip you into them. He tucked you into bed, making sure you had an extra pillow for your arm, and made you comfortable. Steve turned to leave, but was quickly stopped by a sudden pressure on his arm. He was alarmed at first, but as he looked down, he saw your small hand on his forearm. He turned back, finding you groggy, but awake.

"Don't go, please." You pleaded, half awake you was braver than fully awake you. "I- The nightmares, I don't wanna deal with 'em tonight." You were always so happy during the day, so it pissed you off that at night you were kept up with terrifying nightmares, PTSD from the war, Bucky dying right in front of your eyes, freezing and being woken up seventy years later. You dreams were always a horrid mix of all the trauma you've endured, recently at least.

Steve couldn't say no to you, who knows the next time you'd actually ask for help. He placed his hand on top of yours, trying not to make it weird by overreacting. With his eyes crinkling at the corners, he motioned for you to scoot over. He pulled the covers back once again, sliding himself into bed next to you. To Steve's surprise you curled up right next to him, head on his chest and hand over his stomach, and began snoring almost immediately after he laid down. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting of to sleep too, he couldn't quite name the emotion he was feeling, but it sure was lovely.

Steve didn't wake until you started shaking. You were jerking in your sleep, body and head twitching in opposite sides as you mumbled various words to low for Steve to make out. He watched as your entire body tensed, convulsing as you attempted to fight an imaginary enemy, arms reeling. You're expressions bordering on being in pain, Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He dodged a couple of rouge punches and a very concerning headbut, but eventually he had entangled himself enough in you that you weren't able to fight him. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"Shhh (Y/N), you're safe. You're okay. Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm around I promise." He repeated himself a number of times, trying to console your sleeping mind as best he could. He knew how to help, he knew what to say, he knew you wouldn't remember his help unless you woke up. You had them more often than you realized and Steve was always there for each and every one.

"Everything's okay (Y/N), you're safe, it's just us, I promise." Love exuded out of every word he said, you were his lifeline, and he was going to make damn well sure you'd be okay.

You woke up in the middle of your nightmare. Mind still racing from the horrific scene you'd dreamt, bombs, screams, explosions, the team crying for help, you fought like hell trying to save them, but failed every time. You could still hear the sounds, even wake you could hear them in the background as you fought an already defeated enemy. You froze, feeling strong arms around you, you tried to fight, you tried to free your arms, use your feet, anything you could think of until you heard his voice.

Steve.

"S-Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper, low and frightened, you were sure Steve wouldn't even hear it.

"Yes (Y/N), I'm here, it's okay, you're okay." He squeezed you harder, giving your paranoid mind a rest as you buried your head into his shoulder. You cried, practically soaking his shirt with your terrified sobs. The dreams were always so real, and never the same. You never knew if it was going to be torture, or Bucky screaming that he never loved you. Regardless, they were always terrible and never came with a happy ending. You were relieved to have Steve there, he was warm, which is always a plus, and comforting. The two of you laid there until you ran out of tears.

"S-sorry." You wiped your nose, sniffling as you apologized for being so emotional. You tried so hard to keep everything to yourself, that when it slipped a little, everything comes tumbling down all at once.

"Nothing to be sorry for, just won't be wearing this shirt for the rest of the night." You felt Steve chest shake as he chuckled, warming you up from the inside out. You moved off of him so he could change, but he ended up just taking the shirt off and laying back down.

"You should be thanking me for not keeping that in your bed much longer." He teased. "Pretty sure I heard it dripping." You wiped the remaining tears away, grinning as his stupid words created a small amount of joy in your heart.

"Shut up." Was all you could manage to say. Thinking ill thoughts about Steve was difficult in general, but with his arms wrapped around you, holding you while you cried, playing with your hair, it seemed damn near impossible.

// I’m having so much fun with this concept and have so many ideas on where to take this, you’re gonna love it! Shoutout again to @lunathepettuna for being an awesome human being and inspiring me to write this, love you!!

Let me know what you guys think, what you’d like to see, and some crazy vocab words and I’ll write accordingly, thanks for the read, and may Odin bless you in all your endeavors! //

[queen-scribbles]

OC Interview

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. 

I was tagged by: @haledamage Thanks! (I have so many freaking OCs, I’m always a safe bet for these things xD) Not going to tag anyone else though, unless @captainofthefallen still needs an excuse? Consider this a tag, if so. :D

This time around I’m gonna answer with Jas, circa where she currently is in-game(tail end of 4711, mid-Varnhold Vanishing; tracked down two of the three Defaced Sisters for Along the Cold Trail, so no spoilers, please. I’ve already seen some big ones and wanna avoid any more)

–------

1. What is your name?

She swings her legs for a minute, seemingly tickled by how far they are from the floor, before registering she’s been asked a question. “Huh? Oh! Sorry, Jasiri Swallowtail. But please, call me Jas.”

2. Do you know why are you named that?

“Well, Jasiri’s from a.. ridiculous number of greats-grandmother or aunt who was an explorer” --she waves one hand with a laugh--”and Swallowtail’s the family name.” A wink. “Though that did work out well when I pledged myself to Desna.”

3. Are you single or taken?

The infectious joy dims significantly, and her expression is pensive as she devotes all her focus to twisting one of her rings. “Um.... that’s complicated right now.” 

4. Have any abilities or powers?

She brightens. “Desna gave me a whole bunch of cool stuff I can do through my faith in Her; healing people, curing stuff like poison and blindness, protect people, throw fire at bad guys.... it’s a really long list. And my parents used to joke I’m supernaturally curious and energetic, so maybe those count, too?”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

She cocks her head, twirling a loose wisp of hair around one finger. “I’m not; I’m Jas. Don’t know anyone named Mary Sue, though I did have a friend named Susanna growin’ up.”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Grey-green, though which one stands out more depends on the light and what I’m wearin’.”

7. How about your hair color?

“Dark red.” She tugs on the wisp she’s twirling as if to emphasize the words.

8. Have any family members?

“Oh, lots,” she nods happily. “Both parents are still kickin’, last I heard, and I have five sisters, all but one older’n me,”

9. Oh? How about pets?

“OH! You haven’t met Ember yet?!” She hops down from the chair and almost skips to the doorway, giving an unusual trilling whistle. “Em! C’mere, there’s a new friend!” A few moments pass before a frankly adorable red panda somersaults into the room, and she beams as she scoops it up, careful not to step on the tail trailing between her feet. “There you are! Say hi to a new friend.” She “helps” it wave one paw, then scratches it under the chin before setting it down again to climb back in the chair. It amuses itself playing in the corner as she continues, “There’s also a cat named Tiger hiding somewhere, and this really cute stray dog that followed Octavia home from one of her ventures out to Spruceheart, but I dunno if that one counts as mine, since he likes her a little bit better.” 

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like?

She purses her lips in thought and taps one finger against her chin. “The standard stuff, I guess. Y’know, people who hurt innocents or take advantage of them. Also, being stuck inside too long. Snow. And peaches.” She makes a face. “Can’t stand peaches. Don’t ask me why.”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“Climbing trees, exploring, reading....” She ticks them off on her fingers. “I enjoy pretty much anything if I can do it with a couple really good friends, honestly.”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

She shrugs, pick at a scab on one knuckle. “Some, yeah. Mostly good ol’ physical violence if I couldn’t solve things with talking--I’m a really good talker--but I’m sure there’s people I’ve hurt with things I said.” .

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Same as I just said; ones I couldn’t talk down, yeah.”Another shrug. “Some people are just lookin’ for a fight. Or I say the wrong thing.” She wrinkles her nose. “I do feel kinda guilty for those.”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“You mean, what would I be if I was an animal? ‘Cause, I mean..” she gestures at herself. “Pretty sure I’m a halfling. But if I was an animal, I’d either wanna be an otter or a red panda like Ember. Look at her, she’s so cute.”

15. Name your worst habits?

She snorts good-naturedly. “I talk too much, leap before I look, and say things without thinking.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

She snorts and grins mischievously. “Almost everyone; I’m not even four feet tall.” A pleased wiggle follows the joke. “Or is that not what you meant?”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“Straight,” she says with an airy shrug.

18. Did you attend school?

“Yeah, for a while.” She giggles. “Sitting still was torture, though, and I managed to persuade my parents I could learn just as much from explorin’ the world as I could from a book.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

That pensive looks flickers again, and she starts twisting the ring, though she does keep eye contact this time. “I... wouldn’t be opposed if the right guy wanted to.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Oh, yeah. They almost manage to balance out the detractors,” she says with a self-deprecating grin. “I’m very popular.”

21. What are you most afraid of?

“Drowning, I guess?” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Yeah. It’s a scary way to go, and between my height and the fact I usually wear heavy plate armor, it’s a.. present concern for me around water.”

22. What do you usually wear?

“Somethin’ comfortable,” she shrugs. “Shirt and pants, dresses, whatever fits my mood. Gotta be bright colors, though.”

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“What’s one that doesn’t?” a new voice mutters out in the hall--miraculously still loud enough to be heard.

Jas rolls her eyes and twists around to kneel on her chair so she’s facing the door. “No one asked you, Jubilost!” She returns to a proper seated position, flashing an angel-innocent smile, “I do love all things sweet, but there’s an extra special weakness for chocolate ice cream. And kameberry pie.Oh, no, my biggest temptation would be sweet pancakes. Yeah, that.”

24. Am I annoying you?

“Oh, not at all!” She grins. “I love talking to people.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

“Okay!”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

“Well, as Baroness, I’m pretty sure I’d count as high class?” Her nose wrinkles. “But I’m still confused by the ins and outs of nobility and politics and all that, so maybe upper end of middle? My family’s pretty solid middle class, though.”

27. How many friends do you have?

“Lots, though the exact number varies by how many people are in the room,” she jokes, toying with the carved butterfly talisman that hangs around her neck.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Give it to me, all of it, right now.” She laughs and half-grimaces. “Unless it’s peach pie. Then the opposite, keep it away from me.”

29. Favorite drink?

“Never really thought about it,” she admits breezily. “I like a lot of things. Maybe milk? Or honeyed mead, that’s really good.” 

30. What’s your favorite place?

“There’s this flat rock that overhangs the river out behind Willowmere that’s the perfect distance from the surface to hang your feet in the water or skip stones.” She starts to smile, then gets distracted by a clearly less pleasant thought. “Up a tree’s always good, too. You can see for miles. It’s great.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

She clears her throat and fidgets, looking down into her lap as she fiddles with her ring again. “...Yes.”

32. That was a stupid question…

“Not really, everyone wants to know if I’m spoken for.” She flashes a reassuring smile, dazzling as the sun. “I’m used to it, you’re fine.”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Hmm... Lake, I guess. Less chance of being swept off never to be seen again.”

34. What’s your type?

“Quiet’s good, to balance me out. Blond’s nice. And sharing a passion for seein’ the world. Oh, compassionate, that’s a big one...” Her voice trails off, and she looks toward the window as a figure clad in white passes below. “Can we move on?” 

35. Any fetishes?

Her face colors ever so slightly and she clears her throat. “If I had any, I wouldn’t share them with a stranger.”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“Yes to both, as often as possible.” She bounces a little in the chair. “Sleeping under the stars is so much better than indoors. And on that topic, I’ve hit my limit for sittin’ inside when it’s so nice out. Maybe we can talk more later.” 

And with that, she hops down from the chair and darts out the door.