#earl grey steve

[buckyalpine]

Did You Hear

Fluffyy crack fic and nothing else. Imagine Tony Stark's shy new assistant sitting at the kitchen island for breakfast, getting a cup of tea before heading to the lab. She's sipping from her steaming mug when a very pretty super solider walks in from his run and the heat rising in her cheeks isn't from the hot Earl Grey.

"Mornin' y/n" He gives you a polite smile while he makes his way to the fridge and you had to silence the squeak that nearly escapes your lips. He's in a pair of snug grey sweats which are resting sinfully low on his hips and his tight black t-shit showing off every divot and curve of muscle on his torso. You bite you lip as he bends down to grab a cold bottle of water, silencing a squeal with a sip of tea.

"Morning, Sergeant" You give him a smile and the lopsided grin he gives you as he goes on about his day leaves you giggling and kicking your feet. You were just about finished your cup when Nat walked in next, looking you up and down with a shake of her head.

"Bucky was here, wasn't he" She playfully rolled her eyes knowing the effect the brunette had on you. "What happened this time"

"Bucky has a cute butt" You giggled, while Nat snorted at your flustered state. "And slutty thighs"

"Do you ever plan on actually telling him"

"No!" You vigorously shook your head. That was out of the question for you; you were happy to admire the soldier from afar. The last thing he'd want is to have to deal with is the playground crush you had on him anyway, it was a miracle he even noticed you. "He doesn't even see me that way"

"Well, guess we'll never know" She sassed as you slipped off the stool to make your way to the lab.

"I'm happy to admire God's work from a safe distance!" You called over your shoulder while Nat shook her head, smirking to a third person you didn't see who was lingering near the kitchen, very happy to listen intently to the conversation that was taking place.

The one that was supposed to be a secret from Bucky's ears.

That wouldn't do.

-

"Did you hear?" Sam grinned, sauntering over where Bucky was sparring with Steve, both men panting after already going for a few rounds. "Word on the street is you have a cute butt"

"What" Bucky deadpanned while Steve smirked, watching the heat in his friends cheeks already starting to creep up to his ears.

"Mhm, that little tush of yours has been getting a lot of attention lately"

"From who" Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion, frowning when Sam cackled, clapping his shoulder.

"Tony's cute lil assistant" He says with a wink, noting the immediate change in Bucky's demeanor, his frown falling off his face, replaced with a very pink blush.

"You mean y/n?"

"Uh huh. Must've been those slutty grey sweats you've been running around in"

"Slutty?"

"Extremely. Especially with those thighs"

"And how do you know this" Bucky struggled to bite back a smile, not wanting to get his hopes up until he was sure. "There's no way she-

"Heard her talking to Nat this morning. She sounded real excited after seeing you and your cute butt" Sam gave him a swat causing him to yelp.

"Hm. Interesting" The soldier nodded already looking towards the showers so he could rinse off and find you.

"Yeah, yeah, go find your girl" Steve shoved Bucky off the mat with a grin. Bucky jogged off to the lab right after a shower, purposely throwing on a new pair of his snug joggers. He smirked as he walked in seeing you fully focused on a small creation Tony created, tinkering away without noticing him.

"Hey doll"

"Ser-sergeant!" You squeaked in surprise as he strode inside, dropping the gadget you were working on, "What can I help you with"

"Sam told me something earlier", Bucky shrugged casually while you stayed frozen in your seat, your heart rate picking up the closer he got. "Was wonderin' if you knew anything about it"

"What's-what's that" You fidgeted nervously, his baby blues staring at you intently, loving how flustered you looked.

"Someone said something about me having a cute butt"

"Oh" You looked like deer in headlights, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Oh?" Bucky smirked while you hid your face in your hands, ready to sink to the floor and hide under the table, he must have thought you were such a pervert. "And something about slutty thighs-

"Not just your butt! All-all of you is cute all over" You squeaked out before slapping a hand over your mouth realizing you were making it worse.

"All of me, huh" Bucky pried your hand away from your face, cupping your cheek instead, the cool metal of his arm soothing your hot skin. "So you do think I have a cute butt and slutty thighs"

His thumb came up to pull your bottom lip away from where it was caught between your teeth, smiling at the little nod you gave him, too scared to open your mouth.

"Well I'm glad"

"Y-you are?" You shyly whispered, nearly whining when he brought his other hand to hold your face gently, his lips brushing against yours.

"Mhm, means I can do this" You went limp in his hold, every muscle in your body turning into mush as he kissed your lips sweetly, the gentle peck feeling like he'd stolen your breath away. "Don't faint on me sweets" Bucky chuckled as he pulled away, seeing the dazed look on your face.

"Such a cute butt" You whispered to yourself, eyes growing wide when you realized you said that out loud. You buried yourself in his chest making Bucky grin, kissing the top of your head.

"Want to grab coffee with my cute butt?" Bucky tipped your chin up to look at him, "I'll even bring my slutty thighs" He threw in with a wink.

"Promise?" You giggled while he slipped in his hand in yours, leading you towards the door.

"Scouts honor, doll"

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x shy reader #bucky barnes x fanfic #bucky banres x freader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #avengers fluff #avenger fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #marvel fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #james bucky buchanan barnes

[literatureatthebowofnails]

AN: I've really enjoyed writing this series. I'm deeply appreciative of all the feedback and reblogs. They've fueled my writing and truly made me thankful for each and every one of you.

Series masterlist

Summary: Our darling couple take the first step toward the rest of their lives

It's a cold November morning and once again FRIDAY is calling your name, dragging you from your precious sleep.

"Nooo," you grumble, nuzzling into Loki's chest and tugging the fur comforter over your head. It collides with his nose.

He snorts, pulling it back below his chin. "I'll take it from here, FRIDAY.

"Darling, you do need to get up." He shifts beneath you.

"No," you whine, your voice muffled by the blanket. "I want to stay like this forever." You reach your arm over his bare chest, squeezing it for emphasis.

"As much as I'd enjoy that," he chuckles, "your absence downstairs could cause significant upheaval. Not to mention the breakdown of our fearless leader.

"You weren't here when he went on his feeble-minded caffeine fast. There are beings in Niflhel far more pleasant than our dear Captain without his 'morning Joe.'"

"But you're warm, and...you smell good, and...and...I love you," you say between yawns, before peaking up at him with a pout.

"I love you too," he smiles and gives your forehead a peck. "That doesn't change the fact that it's Monday and you have to go to work."

You throw off the blankets with a dramatic huff. "Fiiine. I hate it when you're right."

Loki chuckles and grabs a robe as he stands, handing another to you.

☕

First things first when you get in the elevator. "FRIDAY, please preheat the ovens for kolaches and turnovers, then check the A-Team agenda and load orders for whoever's on call to the POS."

You can't fault Tony's design; two separate confection ovens, freezer and refrigerator on a vertical conveyor. The contraption stands in the back of your circular kiosk cafe along with a cooling/rising rack, sink, employee entrance, and ample counter space.

Nearest the lobby doors sit the POS station, espresso machines, grab&go fridge, and pastry display. In addition to base cabinets, there's bulk storage accessible via elevator to the garage level. With a voice command to FRIDAY, a central circle in the floor descends while a safety barrier ascends into the workspace.

Plenty of square footage for three people, and on a Monday you need all the help you can get.

Chrysa clocks in with a muttered "Morning" as you're reviewing the Avengers' order:

Medium red eye, black - 'Nat's home from her mission and there's a morning debrief.'

Large dark roast with a shot of DynaPep - 'Tony, apparently trying to kill himself after a night of post-mission "tinkering."'

Extra large cup of Joe, extra cream and an order of mixed pastries - 'Steve got his run in and feels guilty about the early debrief.'

Small cocoa with cinnamon and extra whip - 'Peter's going to be late for school. Really, Steve needs to put that kid's education first.'

Medium Dutch apple pie a la mode latte - 'Thor, making his way through the seasonal menu.'

Extra large dirty chai - 'Scott just got into town.'

You notice a distinct lack of Earl Grey with excessive honey - 'Loki went back to bed. Dick.'

The next few hours are busy, as to be expected. They have you, Chrysa and Dementy rushing around, baking, steaming, and ringing up customers as quickly as possible.

Things begin to slow by 9:30, and around 10 Wanda wanders down in sweats and clogs, a maroon hoodie covering her unbrushed hair.

You start on her turek as soon as you see her. "Hey, what would you like for breakfast? And weren't you supposed to be at the debrief this morning?"

"Hmm...a pumpkin muffin," she smirks. "I popped my head out, told the kid to keep his mouth shut, and bewitched Steve to think I was there before going back to bed.

"I'm not getting up after three hours sleep just to tell Steve everything went as planned."

"What about Nat and Tony?" you ask.

"Stark sent Mark 93 and Nat doesn't sleep half the time anyway."

☕

Wednesday afternoon finds you at a boutique with Nat, Wanda, and Hope, who's visiting for the annual gala. The latter, focused as always, has chosen six sleek, black, barely differentiated dresses and hovers with them hanging over her shoulder while the rest of you decide.

"I can't believe it's been a year since we met," you say as you hold a one-shoulder gown against yourself in the mirror.

"You should try that one on," Nat says, her sultry voice soft but insistent. "It has been a year, hasn't it? So this is a particularly special gala. Is that why you're only looking at dresses in Loki's colors?"

You grin down at the gold taffeta. "Partially. It's more a feeling he's going to do something especially dramatic? I don't know what, exactly, but I haven't seen him this cagy since my birthday. He sent half the people in Times Square to his pocket dimension because I turned down the street before the flash mob was in place."

Wanda snickers.

"You're kidding!" says Hope.

"No," Nat replies, "There was a huge fallout when Steve got back from his 'emergency mission.' Something about 'We don't know if pocket dimensions are safe for humans...that's abduction...what if someone had gotten hurt?!'"

"And don't forget," adds Wanna, "'If you're so concerned, Rogers, I'm happy to send you in there to create safety protocols. We could all use the break from your incessant nagging.'"

☕

You were going to spend Saturday lounging around the flat until you needed to get ready, but Wanda had different plans. She insisted you and the rest of the girls all have a spa day. Thus, in the late afternoon you're stepping off the elevator on your floor with goodbyes to Nat, Shuri, Wanda, Hope and Pepper.

You open the door to find Loki already dressed and pacing nervously in the front room. His curls are raked in lines from the many times he's run his fingers along his scalp. "Loki?" you say. He freezes like a child caught sneaking candy, a hand shooting to his breast pocket before he takes a breath to steady himself. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes," he attempts a carefree smile. "Of course, darling, everything is wonderful. I...uh, I was just concerned you might not make it back in time to get ready."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his ironically poor lie. "You do realize we don't have to be downstairs for another two hours, right?" Cupping his cheeks, you pull him down to kiss him. "Whatever it is you're so nervous about, I promise it will be ok. God or not, no one is perfect, and I'm not going anywhere."

He calms a bit. "Right. Well, I'm just going to, ah, see if Stark needs any help getting things organized." He checks his pocket again before rushing out the door.

You do your hair and makeup, wandering around the bedroom in only shoes and panties as your gown simply isn't bra-friendly. You're unhooking the dress from its hanger when hear the front door open.

"Great timing," you call out. "I'm going to need help with this zipper."

Loki enters the room. "Ravishing as always, darling," he grins at your bare chest. "I could help with a lot more than your zipper, you know."

"Says the god who was worried we'd be late?" You smirk.

"Right," he chuckles. "Let's get you into that so I can get you out of it later."

☕

The event space is nearly unrecognizable; Tony's modern minimalism nowhere to be seen.

The chrome columns are covered in black silk, green velvet held against them in sandglass form by thick gold cords. Grand chandeliers twinkle from the high ceilings, alight with five thousand candle flames. A brass quintet sits atop a raised stage opposite the bar, the dance floor spread between them.

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd help Stark," you smile, nodding at the decor. "It's very you." Standing on your toes, you give his cheek a peck.

"Thank you," he takes a steadying breath. "Shall we, er, have a drink? Perhaps some appetizers? Oh look! There's T'Challa and Shuri catching up with my brother. Why don't you join them while I find us sustenance."

You wander over to the group, letting your anxious lover gather food. "Hey," you greet, lightly grazing Shuri's shoulder as you siddle between her and T'Challa.

The king greets you with a tight hug. "It has been far too long. You have to come visit us in Wakanda.

"Okoye keeps talking about getting a Starbucks, but I told her there's better coffee to be had from international sources."

Thor lights up as his brother joins the group, handing you a cocktail and a plate of hors d'oeuvres. "Are you ready?" he asks Loki, a shiteating grin on his face.

"Will you desist?!" Loki says through gritted teeth, attempting to surreptitiously stomp on his brother's toes.

You pop a stuffed mushroom in your mouth and pretend not to notice while you listen to Shuri describe her latest invention. As your discussion of the device begins to dwindle, you hear the opening notes of a familiar waltz.

Loki clears his throat, his hand extended. "May I?"

You take it and he leads you to the dance floor. You can't take your eyes off him. His floor craft is perfection as together you dance smoothly through the other couples.

You know not just the steps, but how he'll take them, making reflexive shifts in your footwork to blend precisely into his.

His hands are comforting as he holds you, his natural scent like burning pine and fresh snow. His vibrant green eyes are full of awe of you and the glowing adoration reflected on your face.

When the song ends, he spins you to the center of the dancefloor. Your skirt settles and you find him kneeling as he holds your hand and a stunning emerald ring.

"Darling," he looks at you with batted breath. "Will you do me the honor of being my princess?"

"Loki, oh my god! Yes, yes, of course I will. Nothing could make me happier!" As soon as he slips the ring on, you pull him into a fervent kiss and the band strikes up the wedding march. You know that wherever you are, so long as you're with him, you'll be home.

Taglist:

@peaches1958 @javagirl328, @loopsisloops, @goblingirlsarah, @buttercupcookies-blog @cakesandtom , @ladymischief11 , @km-ffluv , @coldnique , @glitterylokislut , @eleniblue , @lokiprompts , @lokisgoodgirl , @muddyorbsblr , @princess-ofthe-pages @jennyggggrrr

Let me know if you wish to be added or removed

Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Now that it's complete, I'll be focusing on party asks. I hope you all take some time to join us and participate in this event! All my love 💗

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki #loki smut #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x female reader #fic rec #loki/reader #14 doses of delirium drabble series #my writing

[imfinereallyy]

But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always

available on ao3

June 2008

Peering through the window of Starlight café, Steve Harrington watched the lively streets of Hawkins' City unfold before him. Early morning commuters had begun to pitter out onto the pavement, their eyes tired, heavy even, but each of them walked with purpose. None of them noticed as Steve’s eyes followed them, familiar faces he couldn’t name, but he knew their routine. It was an easy rhythm to fall in a city like theirs.

Smaller than Chicago but bigger than the small suburban streets scattered across the Midwest, Hawkins City was its own little world tucked between the pages of the known and unknown. A name, though recognizable, was not something a person would put much thought to. Steve Harrington thought of himself like his city some days, a friendly face amongst the cranky customers—someone you say hello to but not someone you’d ask how they are doing. 

Steve flipped the closed sign to open; he could hear Robin puttering around in the back. She was probably looking around for her brand of Earl Grey—it wasn’t the tea they used for customers; it was from a gas station off the highway. The brand was cheap and downright awful, but he knew it reminded her of the time Steve drove them across the country to escape their parents. 

It was a small comfort on stressful mornings. Robin had been having a lot of those lately, Steve had noticed. 

“In the cabinet below the register,” Steve spoke over his shoulder, careful not to shout this early. 

“ Huh , I had more than I thought,” Robin mumbled as she thumbed through the box. 

She didn’t. Steve had gotten up early this morning to go to the gas station an hour out. He bought all six boxes they had left, the rest under his bed at home. 

When Steve walked over to the counter, a hot cup of green tea sat there for him. He looked to see Robin heating water for herself and took a sip out of his mug.

Tangy and lightly sweet.  

“Perfect,” Steve mumbled to Robin; she gave him a soft smile in return. 

This had never been the dream for them, stuffed into a small corner on a busy street, but it felt good. They had fallen into a routine, something Steve thought the two of them would never have. Years of trying to appease everyone, stretching himself thin, only to fall short, had taken their toll during his teen years. Trouble used to follow Steve wherever he went, and he had begun to think he was the trouble himself. 

Now, though, in a city very far away from a life they once knew, Steve was content in the safety of knowing what came next. 

The chime above the door rang as a grumpy Hopper entered the café. Steve’s hands were already working to make his order: a large coffee with four creams, two sugars, and whipped cream on top. Of course, it was in a to-go cup, despite Hopper always staying at least an hour in the shop after ordering. Steve knew it was because Hop didn’t like anyone to know about his secret sweet tooth. 

Steve had found it funny in the past few years how often someone’s order never really matched them at first glance. He had gotten pretty good at guessing the more he worked, and it was rare for anyone to surprise him. 

Hop’s order never changed; Joyce always ordered whatever new double-shot espresso drink we had. Max had a cold brew on her days off and a banana smoothie during her shifts. Dustin always demanded a frappuccino even though they didn’t make them. Robin drank tea first in the morning and an espresso shot at noon. And Steve himself was simple.

Always tea, never coffee.

A fact, to those who knew, that was constantly baffling. 

“Here you go, Jim.” Steve smiled as the older man grimaced.

“I know that most people usually insist on using their first name, kid. But how many times do I have to tell you it’s Hop?” 

Steve’s smile widened as Hop put a five-dollar bill in the tip jar like he did every morning. “You drink your coffee without a lid, and I’ll start calling you Hop.” 

Hopper didn’t argue but frowned into this cup as he walked over to the red couch against the wall. 

Steve chuckled and turned to watch the sunrise over the city skyline. The café was on the city's outer edge, and although it didn’t get as much traffic as it would if they were at its epicenter, Steve wouldn’t trade it. 

The sunrise made it worth getting up this early every morning. It made the inevitable ordinary day ahead special, even if it looked the same as the day before.

Steve pulled down the sleeves of his yellow sweater and adjusted the little “ Steeb :) ” nametag Robin made for him as he returned to the register.

Another chime sounded throughout the café; it was time to get to work. 

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

At noon, Steve handed Robin her espresso shot, expecting nothing more than the usual grunt of appreciation to sound throughout the busy café. 

Instead, Robin let the cup slip through her fingers as the sound of a motorcycle rumbled outside the café's doors. 

“Shit.” Robin screeched as the hot coffee spilled over Steve’s fingers. 

He hissed in pain; he knew his skin would pay the consequences of the simple distraction. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve; I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her; despite the many cars that passed through the streets, no one drove a motorcycle around here, and those who had only ever passed through. The deep sounds of the engine parked in front of their shop were all kinds of new, and they probably brought a bad memory or two for Robin. 

“It’s okay, Bobbi, you couldn’t have known.” Steve looked up at the ceiling as he tried not to let his eyes fill with tears; it was just another scar to add to the list. No one would probably even notice it amongst the others. 

Distantly, he heard the sound of the door chime go off, but he paid no mind as he watched Robin run off to grab a clean towel from the kitchen to wrap ice in. 

A throat cleared from behind Steve, and a small rush of panic surged through him. They were in the café, with customers around ; now wasn’t the time to panic. 

Preparing a bright smile, Steve turned to the awaiting customer. “Hi, how can I help you?” 

Steve clutched his burning hand as he took in the man before him. Dark chestnut curls framed an unhappy face. The man was undeniably gorgeous, the kind of guy Steve once upon a time would go for, a guy that Steve now stayed far away from. The man’s eyes were set in a glare that felt wrong to Steve. Someone with big eyes like his should have delight in them, should be lively and maybe even kind. Instead, all Steve got was a burning heat behind his stare, one that Steve felt that if the man could use to set Steve on fire, he would. 

Steve’s smile slipped a bit as he took in the man’s slight frown; the stranger’s five o’clock shadow moved with the contortion of his lips. He caught himself and returned his customer service smile on his face.

 “Sir?” Steve clenched his hand before him; the man’s eyes followed the movement, and his frown deepened. 

“You hurt often, sweetheart?” The man finally spoke, his voice rough and low against Steve’s ears. 

Steve wondered what it would be like to hear it close to his ears. The words would have stirred something in his gut if it were for the man's tone. Condescending. Bored. Done with Steve's shit before even knowing him. 

Steve’s smile slipped completely; he didn’t bother to try to fake it. He felt a spark of anger he hadn’t felt in a long time, since the last time he spoke to his own parents, to be precise. 

With his eyebrows tugging and nose scrunched, Steve prepared to give the stranger a piece of his mind until Robin came running back over. 

“Oh my god, sorry that took so long. Jon was using most of the towels to clean down the kitchen, despite me having told him too many times we have set towels for that! And so I had to run into the bathroom under the sink—the employee bathroom, don’t worry, Steve–and then I had to make sure I didn’t trip and fall on my way back because we can’t have two injured employees on our hands! And then–”

“ Robin , rant.” 

Robin cut herself off and thrust the towel, now filled with ice, into his hands. “Sorry, I just was so startled because of the— oh, hello. Do you need some help?” Robin said, only noticing now that Steve had been helping the sorry excuse of a customer. 

The man’s lips curved into a slight smirk, and Steve cursed his only little heart for skipping a beat. Way to be a cliche, he whispered to it. 

“I was just waiting for,” the man said, glancing down at Steve’s nametag and raising an eyebrow. Steeb , to take my order, but it appears you’re both busy, so I can wait.”

Steve felt all his blood rush to his cheeks; he was sure his cheeks were the color of Max’s hair. Usually, Steve didn’t mind the nametag, but now he was silently cursing Robin six ways to Sunday. Steve glanced down at the menace herself, and she at least had the audacity to flinch slightly at the situation. Steve hadn’t even told her this guy was rubbing him the wrong way, but she already knew. 

It was sometimes creepy how well she could read him. 

“It’s Steve. And don’t worry about it.” Steve forced a smile on his face as he repeated a mantra in his head. Keep people happy. Smile. Don’t worry about what others think. In that order.  “What can I get you, sir?” 

Steve rolled his shoulders back; he could hear the cracking echo throughout his body. He had such stiff bones for someone who was only brushing twenty-seven. When she caught him sitting on the stool behind the counter instead of his usual standing, Joyce had told him once that it was because his aches told a story. Steve liked to think of his body that way. It was easier to believe all the pain was a part of a story rather than a meaningless torment. 

The man watched Steve’s face closely, most likely taking pleasure in the discomfort on Steve’s face, before speaking. “ Eddie . You can call me Eddie, sweetheart.”

“What can I get you, sir?” Steve repeated, ignoring him. 

Eddie’s smile bloomed in full across his face. Dimples appeared on his cheeks, and the lines beside his lips proved that he probably smiled often. 

He should , Steve thought; he had a pretty smile.  

Steve made a note to remind himself to think fewer thoughts like that in the future. There was no use in making the note anyway, considering he was more than sure a man like Eddie didn’t stick around places like Hawkins. He should save himself the trouble of wasting his time on thoughts about men like Eddie. 

Still, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what the man would order. He surely wouldn’t surprise Steve. He was sure most people had Eddie pinned as a black coffee type of guy; it was easy to assume so at first glance. But Steve knew better to judge by the surface of it all. Sure, the guy wore a leather jacket and had a nose ring, but it didn’t mean anything. No, Steve was almost positive the man was about to order something ridiculously sweet, with something insane in it, like whole milk.  

“Medium black coffee with two sugars.” Eddie voiced.

Steve froze for a moment. He hadn’t gotten an order wrong in over a year. But here he was, making an ass out of himself with his jaw slightly open as he stared at the man before him. Eddie ordered a black coffee . He was so thoroughly surprised by how unsurprising it all was. 

Eddie’s head tilted at Steve, which made him realize how silent he had been. Even Robin had begun to nudge his side. “ Seriously , just a black coffee?”

Eddie’s smile once again slipped into a devious smirk. “Don’t forget the two sugars. I like it just a little sweet. Sometimes you need something to soothe the bite….of the coffee, of course.” 

Robin moved her head back and forth between them, biting her lip from saying something Steve was sure would only make the situation worse. 

Steve put on his best customer service smile. “I’ll get right on that, sir; Robin here will ring you up. Thank you for stopping by Stardust café on your way through our city.”

“Oh, it’s been a pleasure. And I’m not passing through; I’m gonna be here awhile.” 

Steve dropped his smile and didn’t even bother responding as he walked away to make Eddie’s boring coffee. He could hear Robing ringing him up in the background, the chatter resuming within the café. 

Steve felt sick in his stomach. He hadn’t even realized everyone had stopped talking, which meant everyone had seen the interaction. 

Great. Fucking fantastic. Steve Harrington was once again nothing but a car wreck everyone couldn't help but stop and stare at. 

Steve heard the slight pitter-patter of feet behind him. “Not now, Robin.” He clipped as he began to pour the sugar into the cup. He scrambled to find the lid.

“You know that was pretty weird, dingus. And I have a high threshold for weird. Considering we’ve been friends for almost a decade now.”

Steve searched for a Sharpie to write the name on the cup, although he mostly did it to be petty since no one else had ordered in the past ten minutes. “ Don’t , Robin. I don’t need to hear it right now, and jesus christ, where is the damn marker!” Steve ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

Robin leaned forward and plucked something from Steve’s apron pocket. She held it out in front of him; it was the damn marker.

Steve sighed and snatched it from her hands. Ripping the cap off with his teeth, Steve grumbled. “I don’t have time to deal with men like him, Bobbi. He screams trouble. He had already stirred up enough with his damn bike. Plus, just look at him. He just screams trouble, Robs.” 

“Steve–”

“No, I know what you’re going to say. ‘ We don’t judge people like that, Stevie ,’ but you know what, Robin? Yes, we do. We gossip more than the church ladies back in Rose Hills. Especially when trouble like that comes our way–”

“But Steve–”

Steve placed the coffee on the counter, and as he saw Eddie approach, he whipped his head back toward Robin. “Don’t Steve me, Robin. You’re telling me that a guy like him doesn’t scream–”

“For the love of god, Steve!” Robin grabbed Steve’s shoulders just as Eddie scooped up the coffee. 

“What, Robin?” Steve blew out, exasperated. 

“Did you even see the name you wrote on the cup?” Her eyes widened in terror and, strangely, amusement. 

Steve glanced at Eddie, who was now reading his cup in amusement. As he saw Steve’s curious glance, he turned the coffee around, putting Steve’s handwriting into view. 

Steve almost died on the spot. Right there, in Steve’s loopy handwriting, was the word ‘ trouble .’ 

Eddie laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Guess I’ll make sure to bring trouble back around.” 

Steve knew at that moment he had stirred up more than sugar in Eddie’s cup.

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

Read the rest of Steve and Eddie's story on ao3

A peek at my first contribution to @strangerthingsreversebigbang and contains lovely art made by my friend @sunflowerharrington

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things reverse big bang #my writing #robin buckley #platonic stobin #ao3 #strbb #modern au #coffee shop au #steddie coffee shop au

[levans44]

chapter 4 - london fog, hot

Rain knocked on her shop window on a dull, cold Thursday as she sat behind the counter, chin in hand, listening to the tiny tv in the corner.

“… confirmed that Tony Stark, billionaire industrialist and former CEO of Stark Industries, has been spotted checking into New York-Presbyterian Hospital just last night. Mr. Stark seemed to be on a temporary hiatus this past month, and this is his first public spotting since a Stark Tech press conference in October. While witnesses claim he was not in critical condition, the exact source of his injury has remained undisclosed. Recent reports have linked his condition to the Avengers initiative and related S.H.I.E.L.D activity, an organization currently under the leadership of Director Nicholas Fur-“

The tv powered off with a click as she let out a loud sigh, stretching her feet.

Hearing the news about Tony felt strange. Somehow, that short meeting she had with him made her worry about him in a way she wouldn’t have before. This kind of thing was on the news all the time, public speculations about the most recent Avengers activity, but having met Tony it just felt more real.

In more personal news, it had been over a month since Steve came to visit. When he didn’t call or text within the first few days, she started to worry that maybe she had scared her off by giving him her number, or by telling him that she knew who he was.

By the second week, she was beating herself over it — could she have pushed him away by being too impatient?

But by the third week, she was angry. Could he seriously not have given her a text, a call, just to tell her he wasn’t interested? She thought he was different, or maybe she had just wanted him to be different. There was one brief thought that had passed her mind while watching the news about Tony — could his hiatus have something to do with Steve ghosting her?

Maybe they weren’t related at all.

Maybe it was just a bad coincidence.

Maybe he just didn’t want to call.

Pushing the thoughts away from her mind, she glanced outside, clutching tighter to her cup of London Fog — earl grey tea and lavender foam, a touch of vanilla syrup.

It was coming down even harder, and dark clouds were starting rolling over the sky even though the clock read just past 7. She wrapped the cardigan around her waist tighter, standing up to close up shop early.

As she reached the door, she saw a tall figure with a hoodie pulled low, quickly rounding the corner. Before she could expect the worst, she caught a glimpse of the face, barely visible in the dark.

“Steve?”

He seemed startled, lifting his head and coming to an abrupt stop in front of her. “Hi” his deep voice barely audible in the rain, she had to squint to confirm that it was him. 

“I… c-come in!” His clothes were soaked through, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He nodded in appreciation as she let him step in and closed the door behind him.

“Do you.. want some coffee, or a blanket maybe?”

Or a new change of clothes? He must be freezing, she thought.

“No no, thank you I’m good. I just…” He sighed, voice rougher than usual, face still tucked under the hoodie.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here… in a while.”

Yeah, a month.

“It’s just that I…” he glanced off to the side, hand rubbing the back of his neck — he was nervous.

But about what? Maybe he was here to let her down gently. Like ‘hey, sorry I ghosted you for a whole month after you gave me your number. I could have texted or called, but nope, I didn’t. Anyway, the answer’s no. Bye!’

“I’ve just been a bit… preoccupied these past few weeks. I should’ve called you but-“ Steve sighed, glancing up.

At that gesture, the dim cafe lights caught this face from underneath the hood, and she couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp at the sight.

His entire face was bruised black and blue — a huge, dark red gash on his cheek, a bruise and a small bump on the bridge of his nose like it’s been broken, and a split lip.

“Holy shit, Steve, w-what happened?”

A momentary look of confusion replaced by realization.

“Oh this is just a…” Steve let out a small laugh to himself. She didn’t get the joke.

“…an occupational hazard” He made it out to sound more like a question, but it clicked for her nonetheless.

Tony Stark, the most public figure out of all of the Avengers, withdrawing from any and all public appearances for the last few weeks, for the same amount of time Steve stopped visiting. The rumors about new Avengers activity. Tony Stark’s ‘return’ last night. Everything made sense now, and she felt a huge sense of relief wash over her.

It wasn’t a coincidence.

He had meant to call back.

“I…” she was still stunned, attention still mostly absorbed by how messed up his face looked. Still insanely handsome, though.

“I don’t mean to keep you for long. I know it’s late. I just wanted to apologize for not calling earlier and…” A deep breath as she held hers.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tomorrow, with me.”

At the absolutely nauseating yet wonderful feeling in her gut, she was sure that her heart had dropped straight down to her stomach.

After a few seconds had passed, during which she stood there gaping like a silent idiot, Steve nodded, dash of disappointment flashing across his face, and turned around to leave.

“Wait, Steve” she all but yelled, hand frantically landing on his forearm in an attempt to hold him back. He looked back at her, her hand retracting just as quickly as she’d extended it.

“Uhm…” she fidgeted under his gaze. She was never good at this kid of stuff. Was she really going to do this?

“Have you… have you eaten yet?”

He shook his head out of the corner of her eye.

“I was just about to close. Did you want to get dinner… now?”

Steve smiled, about to nod his head, before his smile faltered. “I would love to, I really would” he said, seeming the most exasperated she’s ever seen him. “It’s just that. I can’t really go out looking like…” he gestured to his face and the rest of his ensemble, dripping-wet hoodie and sweats, sneakers squeaking unpleasantly from the rain.

At the frustration on his bruised face, she smiled.

“Who said anything about going out?”

(cap)puccino, w/ milk and sugar masterlist

#mcu #marvel mcu #mcufic #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #avengers #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fic #captain america fanfiction #chris evans #cafe au #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #tony stark #marvel cinematic universe

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

Ghostsoap but it’s the Steve/Bucky Cap America/Winter Solider dynamic…the angst of it all would just be 😙👌🏻

Anon, if there's one thing I love writing more than smut, it's angst. I had so much fun with this, you have no idea! It's sad boy hours, my friends! Let's make these men suffer 😈 ( also, don't come after me for the plot, it was just some half-baked idea I had about Makarov being like a hydra equivalent or something idk lol)

I Knew Him - chapter 1

Summary: Soap was never the same after he lost Ghost all those years ago. He still has nightmares about it. But when he learns Makarov is back after taking Ghost from him, he'll do anything to exact his revenge. Until he discovers Ghost was never really gone.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3 link

It had been five years since Soap had last seen Ghost. Five years since he had seen him fall. And he was still plagued almost every night with dreams of him. Tonight was no different. 

Soap awoke with a start, heart pounding wildly in his chest, soaked in sweat. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest, burying his face against his forearms. Goddammit. Would this ever end? He slowly looked up to get his bearings. Moonlight filtering in through the window cast the room in a soft silver glow. He was at home. The salt of unshed tears burned at the back of his throat, remembering the nights he had shared with Ghost in this very flat. In this very bed. Fuck.

After giving himself a few minutes to catch his breath he made his way into the kitchen, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep after that one. He had been holding Ghost's hand this time, holding on as hard as he could, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't strong enough to pull him back into the helo. And then he was gone, disappearing down, down, down into a rising cloud of dust. 

The ending to the nightmares was always the same: Ghost falling and falling. But sometimes, like tonight, Soap was able to grasp his hand, to touch him one last time. It almost made it even worse. Because in the actual memory of it from all those years ago, Soap hadn't ever had a chance to grab on. 

Rubbing a hand roughly over his tired face, Soap padded barefoot to the stove. A headache was already beginning to form in his left temple. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he started the kettle going. For a brief moment he considered something a little stronger than tea, but then thought better of it. He knew that the bottle of whisky in his cabinet only made him think of Ghost and getting black-out drunk at 3 o'clock in the fucking morning probably wasn't the best idea. 

He was numbly watching a bag of Earl Grey steep in a mug of hot water and checking emails on his phone when a text came through. It was Price. "Rendezvous at the base at 0500. New intel on Makarov."

Soap's heart plummeted. Well, shit. 

It was still dark out when Soap walked into the base to meet with his team. He had showered and shaved, but still felt tired way down to his fucking bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. Before Ghost fell, that’s when. The headache in his temple started coming back and he groaned, digging in his pocket for the small bottle of ibuprofen he kept on hand. He tipped a couple back onto his tongue and swallowed them dry, then made his way into the conference room to find Price already there, cigar in his mouth, waiting. 

The rest of the team filed in slowly and when everyone had taken a seat, Price stood. Soap watched wearily as Price loaded a military brief onto the giant flat screen on the wall. “Morning, gentlemen. Let me get right down to it. We received classified intel of an attack being planned by Makarov in downtown D.C. happening twenty-four hours from now. And we have been tasked with stopping it."

A murmur swept across the room.

Soap sat forward in his seat, unchecked anger simmering just under the surface. “I thought we bagged that Russian prick after…” he stopped mid-sentence because he knew the next words out of his mouth were about to be after I lost Ghost. He cleared his throat and started again, “after Kyrgyzstan.”

Price shook his head, not quite meeting Soap’s eyes, and looked back to the screen. “Negative. Intelligence indicates that while we did get a positive lock on his location and obliterated his base, he escaped to a hidden shelter. He’s been operating underground for the last five years, working on a new secret weapon -- a weapon he’s planning on using in D.C.” He sighed and ashed his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “We thought we were done with him, but he apparently wasn't done with us. The details have been sent to all of you. We rendezvous at the meeting point in two hours. Let’s nail this bastard once and for all. Dismissed.”

Everyone began leaving the room. Soap stood slowly on legs that were not quite steady. Price’s news made him numb, forcing his mind to relive that day with a heartbreaking clarity. The mission, the missile making contact on Makarov's compound, the helo taking a hit, Ghost. They were never able to recover his body. Soap never even got to say goodbye. It was just so fucking unfair. 

Soap was so lost in himself he hardly even processed Price saying his name.  

“MacTavish, a word.” 

Blinking, Soap nodded and made his way across the empty room to Price. He stood before him at parade rest. 

“Soap, I know you and Ghost were close.” Soap swallowed against a lump that formed in this throat, but pushed down any other emotion trying to show on his face. Price continued, “It wasn’t easy on the 141 when we lost him, but I know it was even harder for you. Will you be able to carry out the duties assigned to you in this mission, Lieutenant?” 

A tic bunched in Soap's jaw and he straightened his back. "Aye, Captain." His voice was hoarse. "There is nothing I want more than to bring this motherfucker down for what he did. And what he plans to do.” For Ghost.

Price’s mouth set in a hard line and he studied Soap for a moment. Finally he said, “All right. Let's get this done, then.”

Soap nodded sharply once and left the room. His breath left his lungs with a whoosh. He found the nearest empty office and closed himself inside. Leaning back against the door, he slid slowly to the floor, blinking back tears. A mixture of emotion battled within him. Shock, grief, sorrow, anger. The anger ultimately won, though, as it usually does. He held onto it, allowing it to simmer hotly deep in his chest, burning up everything else but the raw demand of bringing Makarov down. He owed Ghost that much.

The next two hours passed in a blur. Soap operated on instinct alone; cleaning his guns, sharpening his knives, packing a rucksack. He tried his best not to dwell on much of anything at all except to prepare himself for what was to come. It was an effective technique apparently because he soon found himself at the rendezvous point at the airfield with no real recollection of how he got there. He joined up with the task force on the tarmac as they loaded themselves into the awaiting C-130. And they were off to D.C. 

Soap’s exhaustion finally caught back up to him on the three hour flight and he was actually able to sleep for most of it. He, thankfully, had no dreams at all. 

********************************************************************

After touching down, the 141 wasted no time in gathering in a caravan of SUVs and heading toward the location they received from Laswell’s intelligence brief. They were just about to exit off the Roosevelt Bridge when they were ambushed by Makarov's team, who seemed to come out of fucking nowhere. Straight adrenaline took over Soap’s whole body on the first collision of the Hummer behind them that slammed them sideways into the concrete barriers on their right. Another Hummer drove the wrong way up the highway, weaving between oncoming traffic, firing out the passenger window with a high caliber rifle. The second shot took out Soap’s driver who immediately plowed into the car in front of them, bringing them to a shuddering stop. 

Soap’s heart thundered in his chest, but a lethal composure doused the fear rising up inside him. This was Makarov’s doing. And that bastard was going to fucking regret doing it. Ducking down in the back seat, Soap quickly dug his AK from his bag. He waited for a break in the rapid fire then exploded out of the vehicle in a hail of bullets. He found cover behind an empty utility truck. It was all out chaos with people running and screaming, gunfire cracking from all angles, and the remaining men of the task force shouting orders. 

Soap peeked around the corner of his cover, taking out three of Makarov’s soldiers in a row with perfectly placed shots. Gaz, hunkered down behind him, took out a few more. For a moment, it appeared that they were gaining the upper hand. But then a man, hulking in height, dressed in all black with a hood shrouding his face in shadow, grasping a Kastov-74u in a gloved hand, exited one of the Humvees. Soap felt a chill shoot straight down his spine. 

Sweet screaming Jesus

Soap emptied the last rounds of his last clip at the man but it did not slow him down in the slightest. He was blazing a path straight at Soap, like he had a personal vendetta against him. Fuck. The hard set of his broad shoulders, his imposing gait, all seemed to light up some forgotten memory in Soap's brain that he could not quite put his finger on. He surely couldn't even try to remember with the utter fucking bedlam happening all around him

"I'm empty," Gaz shouted at him.

Soap looked back over his shoulder. "Aye, same here!" This was going fubar faster than he was ready for. 

His attention returned to the enemy stalking up the highway toward him. The man popped off two rounds, drilling into the truck right next to his head. 

"Fuckin' hell," Soap gasped for breath. Then he heard the click of a dry fire and knew this was his only chance to bring this fucker down. 

Securing his blade in hand, Soap made a run for it, swiping at the assailant fiercely with his knife. The man blocked the incoming attack but not before Soap was able to get a couple brutal slices to his forearm. The other arm was impenetrable though, surprising Soap momentarily. It was made of some kind of metal, something Soap had never seen before. 

He looked up at the man with wide eyes, then tried sweeping his feet out from under him. The man was unmoveable. A feral growl rumbled up from the man's chest and Soap knew he was well and truly fucked. 

He lunged at him, ringing his hands around Soap's neck, picking him up off his feet and throwing him back against the concrete barrier behind him. Pain shot up Soap's lower back when he connected with it but it was the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think was shit shit shit. 

Soap scrambled up from the ground, knife still in hand, and slammed it into the man’s metal bicep. It sparked momentarily before the man knocked the knife from his grip. It went sliding across the pavement. Soap tried for hand to hand combat but it too was quickly shut down. The man was too fast, too strong. Still, Soap gave it his all. 

It just wasn't fucking enough. 

Snarling, the man picked Soap up by his flack jacket and attempted to hurl him up and over the bridge. Soap grasped for something, anything, as he fell over the edge and was able to grab his assailant's vest, holding on for everything he was worth. It tipped the man enough off balance for them both to fall over the precipice. 

Soap squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, almost hoping for the end. But it was only about a six meter plummet onto a grassy berm that led down to the river — enough to knock the breath from his lungs as he managed to land on top of the man currently trying to kill him. He rolled onto his feet, ready to keep going, ready to fight for his fucking life. The man gained his feet too, but this time with his hood pushed back, exposing his eyes. The lower half of his face was still obscured, covered by a skull mask.

Soap straightened abruptly. Everything came crashing to a halt. He knew those eyes. He knew that face. Even if it wasn't completely visible. His heart contracted painfully in his ribcage at the realization. 

"Ghost?"

The man's chest heaved, but he paused. His brows were drawn together, like he was just asked the most complicated question in the world. "Who the fuck is Ghost?"

Soap stared at him in disbelief. He took one small step forward. Was this really happening? Or was he trapped inside another nightmare?

He wanted to rush forward, to pull Ghost into his arms, to ask him how any of this was possible. “I thought I lost you…” he began, but before he could reach Ghost, an explosion rocked the bridge behind him. Soap looked back over his shoulder, but when he turned back Ghost was gone.   

*****************

Later that night, Ghost was sitting in a chair in Makarov’s underground bunker while a man in a white coat repaired the gash on his robotic arm. They were surrounded by armed guards in the small room, but Ghost knew there was no point to them. He could clear the whole room of every breathing person within a matter of minutes if he was given the order to. 

He was bare from the waist up, ambivalently watching the glow of the tool as it patched the defect caused by the knife held by the man on the bridge. Something gnawed at him, deep inside. Some memory that was just out of his grasp. It made him uneasy. He remembered falling, he remembered the man from the bridge, reaching, screaming for him. He remembered darkness and pain. And more pain. But the memories were fractured, hazy.  

Ghost heard Makarov walk into the room that led to the one he was currently in. He was talking to the handful of men that followed him wherever he went.

“He’s unstable. Erratic,” one of Makarov’s men said. 

Ghost didn’t look up when they walked in, only continued staring at the man working on his arm. He was trying to dredge up long forgotten memories, but it was so hard to focus. 

“Mission report,” Makarov barked, coming to a stop before Ghost.

Ghost looked up at him slowly. The barest hint of a memory sparked in his mind of the man from the bridge. They were laying in a bed together. He was holding the man’s face. The man had his eyes closed and he was smiling.

A confusing emotion knotted up his stomach and he only stared at Makarov, not really seeing him, trying to pull more of that memory out of the jumbled mess of his brain. 

“Mission report, now!” Makarov ordered, bending closer to Ghost’s face.  

Ghost didn’t hear him. He blinked owlishly. A bed. The man on the bridge. Smiling so softly. 

He was suddenly pulled out of his trance by a swift backhand across his face. The pain of it stung across his cheek, but he barely registered it. He looked up at Makarov slowly, his brows drawing together as he tried so hard to remember. 

“That man on the bridge. Who was he?” 

Makarov was quiet for a moment. “You met him earlier on another assignment.”

Ghost shook his head. He knew that was a lie, but his memories were so clouded, he didn’t know if he could trust his own mind. “I knew him,” he said softly. 

Makarov sighed and pulled up a stool to sit at Ghost’s eye level. “Your work has been a gift to mankind,” he began, but Ghost immediately tuned him out. The memory was just out of reach. If he could just remember the man’s name.

Makarov finally stopped talking. He looked at Ghost expectantly. Ghost felt a wave of sadness crash over him for the life he couldn’t remember. “But I knew him,” he said again with a shaky voice. 

Makarov frowned and stood abruptly. He began walking away. “Prep him.” 

One of the white coat men stopped him. “We can’t do that, sir. He’s been out too long.”

Makarov turned toward Ghost, looking him up and down with a disapproving glare. “Then wipe him and start over.” 

Ghost’s heart rate jumped at those words, even if he didn’t really understand what it meant. In the back of his mind, deep, deep down, he knew he had been through this many times before. 

The white coat men pushed Ghost back into the chair while Makarov’s soldiers all watched. And then a rubber dental guard was being shoved in his mouth. Fear flooded his senses as he was locked into the chair and he fought to drag in oxygen. The man on the bridge. His soft smile. The tender press of his lips on mine. Ghost replayed the only memories he had, holding on to them, trying not to forget this time. Please, don’t forget this time! 

The plates came down over his face. They were cold against his skin and had an electrical scent to them. Terror immediately swept through him. Don’t forget don’t forget don’t forget. And then there was only pain and the echo of Ghost’s scream as he fell and fell and fell. 

#ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soapghost #cap x winter soldier au #cod #mw2 #angst #established relationship #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #prompt fill

[ilenissu]

I'm so sorry for this but megamind au.

The phone rang just as Eddie put his guitar down. He sighed, reaching for it and smiled at the name on the screen.

"Hollo?" He purred.

"It's 'hello', sir," Eleven whispered, tapping his shoulder hesitantly.

"Right- Hello?"

There was a sigh on the other side. A deep one.

"Hey. I know you're planning on kidnapping Steve, again, on the third of December, but I happen to have plans for that night so if you could-"

"Postpone-?"

"No, make sure he takes his meds before sleep. He can't eat gluten, so keep that in mind around supper. Oh, and he likes his tea black with no sugar. Got it?"

"I-"

"Okay, cool, awesome, bye, Megamind!"

And with that the line cut off. Eddie stared at the phone for a moment longer, blinking slowly.

"Should we reschedule the kidnapping for the seventh, sir?" Eleven asked, voice quiet and calm.

"N- Yeah, no." He cleared his throat. "Buy earl grey and gluten free cereal when you're out, okay?"

"May I-"

"Yeah, get yourself your waffles."

#i love them #with robin as the superhero #eddie as the villain #steve as the damsel in distress that megamind falls in love with #and eleven as the villain's sidekick #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #st4 #megamind au #steddie megamind au #robin buckley #fruity four

[revscarecrow]

Here's a collection of cats from my local cat Colony I take care of. I will list their names

Mr business: big black cat

Karl: small black cat

Tortie: tabby with white chest

Polly: smaller tabby

Custard: big orange

Steve: little orange

Mr nasty: the grey one making stank face (called Mr nasty cause he's nasty and had bot flies)

And Earl Grey: the other grey one. Despite being named Earl she is a little lady who is currently pregnant.

The last one looks like a live cat reaction to a cat.

[lokislittlemidgardian]

Little scarab (pt 1)

Content - museums, readers niece being a chaotic Cupid, angst, little!reader, this part is big space, very heavily mentioned little space, reader being scared to tell her partners about her little space, mentions of a play room, fluff, don’t like don’t read.

Summary - how your journey with your mommy and daddy’s started.

Authors note - it started out as a two parter in my mind but now I’m thinking why not make it an au?, shh we don’t talk about the employment plot in the beginning, hope you enjoy!

Part 2 - here

It all started with a trip to the museum.

You had planned a day out with your 10 year old niece, your sister was practically begging you too seeing as it was half term and she hadn’t had a break for a good few days.

You both decided on the museum one because she had a history project and two it was a place you thought she would have to be quiet and respectful.

You were wrong with both of your assumptions.

“Abbey!” You quietly hissed running around with your boots gently hitting the floorboards, eventually apprehending her gently by the back of her coat you walked around and saw what she was looking at, of course it was the gift shop.

Taking her hand making sure she couldn’t wander off you made your way towards some paperweights and books of ancient Egypt. You didn’t remember much about the pyramids and Egyptian gods you didn’t really pay much attention to them at school but you always found them interesting.

“Auntie Y/N what’s this?” She asked pointing at a paper weight of the pyramid of Giza “that’s the-” “that is the great pyramid of Giza” a woman with shoulder length curly hair and a dark green jacket on answered “it was built roughly around 2550 to 2490 bc by the Egyptian people and it’s stayed there for centuries.” She answered picking up the pyramid and giving it to your niece with a smile looking forward at you “yeah well, yeah that’s about it” you said with a chuckle at the woman.

You couldn’t get over how beautiful she was.

“You wanna know something?” A man with jet black curls asked while stacking shelves “what?” Abbey said eagerly “we’ve been in there” he said gesturing to they woman in front of you. The revelation made your niece very excited but you obviously didn’t believe him.

You would later on find it to be true.

After a few minutes of talking to the couple you learned that their names were Layla and Steve. Eventually you realised that it was getting late and that you sadly had to get abbey home to your sister. “Can we get this for mum auntie? Please she’d love it” abbey said hopefully looking at you “of course we can bey” you said taking her hand.

After the pair had rung you up they wished you a good night Laylas hand grazing yours a little to long before you made your way to the exit.

Or course abbey thought it was the right time to announce her opinion on your interaction before you had even left the room.

“You fancy them don’t you auntie” “Abbey!”

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Since that night you hadn’t really thought about the interaction apart from when you heard terms like god, goddess, museum, pyramid, paper- hang on, you might have thought about it a little bit.

You were sitting behind the cash register at the cafe you worked at, it was in the heart of London so you saw all types of people, but you never expected to see the two people you had been thinking about for weeks.

Once they had seen you, Laylas features lit up and Steven had a surprised expression on his face that was almost comedic. Once they had chosen a table you rushed discreetly to be the one that served them earning a snigger from Harley, Harley was your best friend and they had been the recipient of every detail about each of them at least every 4 days.

“Hiya!, what can I get for you?” You asked smoothing out your apron a tad and looking at each of them with a warm smile. “Uh yes um could I get an earl grey tea please?” Steven stuttered out with a smile on the side of his mouth “absolutely, and what about you?” “Just a black coffee thanks” Layla said grinning at you.

After you had brought out their drinks you stayed to talk to them for a while until you were called back into the kitchen. When they came over to pay for their drinks Layla slipped a piece of white paper over to you with 2 phone numbers attached.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

That was 5 months ago and you had been together ever since you phoned them up the day after.

You knew about Marc and konshu and Layla and taweret, obviously you had been very confused and not to mention concerned about their well being but in the end you had figured out that they had everything covered. Everything was perfect. Well almost perfect.

You still hadn’t told them about your age regression.

The topic wasn’t easy to bring up at all so you just never bothered, but it was beginning to take its toll on you. You hadn’t had the chance to regress for almost the entire time you had been together, it wasn’t just them though it was work and your family. You just never got any time to yourself.

You were beginning to distance yourself from them and they were starting to notice. Every time they came around to your flat you seemed on edge to them and they were starting to think you felt uncomfortable around them. Obviously that couldn’t be further from the truth, you were only on edge because you were always looking around for any little things you might have left out and it didn’t help that when Marc was fronting he was always trying to guess what was behind the locked door next to your bedroom.

Eventually they had reached their breaking point.

Hearing a knock at the door you got up from the sofa, after you unlocked it your were met with the sight of Marc and Layla’s worried faces. Oh no.

After inviting them in they gestured you over to the sofa, you didn’t like this silence. “Are you two okay your acting very strangely” you said sitting in the middle of them “were ok baby, we want to know what’s going on with you” Marc said as gently as he could. “What do you mean, I’m fine” you said with a false smile “no your not honey, we know when somethings wrong you don’t have to lie to us” Layla said softly lightly scratching your scalp and placing a kiss on your forehead.

God that was almost enough too make you slip.

Taking deep breath’s you eventually found the courage to speak “have you heard of age regression?” You asked quietly looking at the carpet. “Um no, what is it.” You heard Layla ask still lightly caressing your arm, getting up quickly you found your iPad and typed in the definition of age regression. You weren’t brave enough to say it out loud, giving Marc the iPad you moved to your bedroom. You just didn’t want to see them leave.

Getting under your duvet and curling up in the Cotten sheets you held onto the light blue rabbit and let silent tears fall into the fur. You hated this feeling being on the verge and hazy, you were so uncomfortable that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming into your bedroom.

Feeling the duvet slowly being pulled back you felt Marc carefully get into the bed beside you. Gently pulling you and to face him he used the pad of his finger to wipe away the stray tears. “Shhh it’s ok, your ok just breath for me honey, just like that good job” he said as he talked you through a breathing exercise.

About 15 minutes later you were silent in his arms slowly breathing in and out. Hearing the sound of the front door being opened you instantly sat up in a slight panic only to be gently pulled back down by mark “it’s ok baby it’s just Layla” he said stroking your hair. A few minutes later Layla came into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a sippy cup full of water in the other “hi sweetheart,I didn’t know if you had one or not and I wanted you to be able to choose so I nipped out and bought you one.”

After placing down the two water filled containers she lifted you gently into her side placing a few kisses on the top of your head. “Are you feeling big or little at the moment honey?” Mark asked you soothingly “a bit of both” you said straightening up a bit “why are you being so nice about it?” you mumbled into the side of Laylas neck “because there is absolutely nothing wrong with this my love” Layla said looking at you intensely “we want to be here for you Y/N, we can take care of you.”

“Is Steven ok with it?” You questioned mark almost instantly his eyes rolled back “yes love I’m alright with it” Steven said giving you a small kiss to the tip of your nose “alright then” you said slowly letting yourself fade into sleep in the loving embrace of your partners.

"Goodnight little scarab."

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist @lethalbeautiful @lucielbinon-binary

#daddy!steven grant #daddy!marc #little!reader #mommy!layla #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant #layla x reader #layla el faouly #steven x layla #marc x layla #caregiver #sfw age regression #age regression reader #moon knight #little scarab au

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Oooo.... How about Pretty Petals guys and flavors of ice cream??

Ransom - french vanilla

Steve - cookies and cream

Bucky - chunky monkey

Loki - pistachio

Lloyd - double chocolate fudge with peanut butter cups

Andy - cherry chip

Curtis - earl grey

Lee - butterscotch ripple

[astaraels]

✨surprise! weekly tag wednesday✨

@softmick @samantitheos and @guinguin1984 and i actually have the energy to do it today! let's gooooooo

About ME

name: leinth (pronounced lay-nth)

age: 33, gonna be 34 in a few months tho

starsign: cancer

your first language: english

second language: like...the barest bit of japanese?

favourite lip product: cherry chapstick idk

the best food dish you can make without a recipe: grilled cheese and tomato soup, i am NOT a cook

If you drink tea, what kind?: earl grey if i ever do

If you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get?: coffee makes me sleepy so i don't drink it

favourite thing to watch on youtube right now: ask a mortician, probably

favourite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: honestly i can't even remember, i've slept since then

favourite item of clothing right now: probably my black shirt with the wide lace sleeves from torrid, it looks amazing on me

favourite item of clothing in 2012: the fact that i could actually get dressed and not be in pajamas all the time in 2012 was impressive, i was having a mental breakdown for most of that year

fandom

three movies you recommend: 1917, jurassic park, and glass onion

your favourite concert: definitely roger waters' "the wall". changed my life completely

have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?: yeah, but not for a while, i usually manage to find decent people with good opinions

have you ever left a fandom because of the fans?: supernatural was partly due to the fans

the best tv show you watched last year: greatly enjoyed watching shameless for the first time last year

do you have a fancasting you just can't let go of?: gwendolyn christie as rule 63 steve rogers, i will live and die by it

a ship you've abandoned: dean/cas used to be my ride or die otp

on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history?: 10, i have no shame

do you have a fandom tattoo? not yet, but i definitely have plans to do so

what fandom do you wish was bigger?: uuuhhhh the old kingdom series and the eagle of the ninth

has a finale ever ruined a show for you?: haven, definitely, but I still love the early seasons

have I...

swam in an ocean?: the atlantic

been vegan/vegetarian?: nope, i like meat too much

gone skinny dipping?: noooooooooope

gone skiing?: i am way too uncoordinated and scared of heights to do anything like skiing

been to a convention?: a couple of times way back in the day, yeah

tagging anyone who wants to do this!

#weekly tag wednesday

[mangle-my-mind]

Get to Know Me Tag Game

Thanks @ineffableobikin for the tag!!!

1. top 3 ships: Gentlebeard, The Berlin Polycule from Velvet Goldmine, McLennon (I have an old post somewhere where I talk about my heebie-jeebies around rpf, but regardless McLennon is a love story for the ages)

2. first ever ship: probably Curt/Arthur? Not sure tho

3. last song: “Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene", Hozier

4. last movie: "Parting Glances", Bill Sherwood. I am in love with Steve Buscemi now

5. currently reading: ooooof currently not reading. I am partway through a bunch of books but haven't actually made any progress lately :( the last book I read was "Good Omens" as a reread!

6. currently watching: I finished "Reservation Dogs" this week and OW

7. currently consuming: Earl Grey tea

8. currently craving: Peach Snapple

9. tag 9 10 people you want to know better (no pressure tho): @holy-loki @holzerisms @didntyoubelieveinme @footnotesnake @monstersandheartache @moonage-xx-daydream@silverfactory@beatle-capaldi@v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e@all-rock-and-roll-is-homosexual

#Tag game

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

lemme do a jasmine tea, an old english tea and earl gray

(ps ur so sweet mwuah)

Jasmine tea: if I could go anywhere in the world? Japan, bc I’m an anime nerd and I wanna do all the dope ass anime shit they have there!! But in the US? I’d love to go to New Orleans or Salem, MA!! For obvious spooky girl reasons.✨

Old English tea: who am I bringing if I’m stranded on an island? Do I get to bring fictional characters? If so, I’m bringing Eddie and Steve, will they get much done? Maybe. Probably not. Will they be pretty to look at? Yes. I’m bringing Spencer Reid bc he will have some knowledge about random topics I’m clueless on. I’d bring @babygorewhore & @reidsbtch too because they would make me laugh even if we were about to die on a deserted island.😌🏝️

Earl grey: My zombie apocalypse plan? I’m taking control of like a mall or a shopping center or a grocery store so I just have supplies ON HAND, rounding up the homies, and locking down.😤💓 (I’m watching zombieland 2 rn so this question felt so fitting.)

IM GIVING YOU A SMOOOCHH!!😘

For cafe asks.

#ask game #keeks🔮 #mooties ♡ #Dolly’s asks

[welldonebeca]

Miss, PhD (XXIV)

WC: 1.2k words Warnings: Fluff. College AU. Angst. A/N: For those who are curious: the house.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Steve pushed your arm from over him as he woke from his nap, a little warmer and rested, and pressed a little kiss to your temple before putting something more proper before brushing his teeth and walking out of your bedroom.

The house was quiet and warm - he couldn’t hear or see your father as he walked down the stairs, but quickly caught sight of Mister Jarvis the moment he stepped on the first floor, finding him pouring himself tea, and your ‘friend of the family’ only took a glance of him before pouring him some just as well.

“Good afternoon, professor Rogers,” he greeted him. “I hope you like Earl Grey tea?”

“Earl Grey is great, sir,” he agreed.

Mister Jarvis hummed, and gave him a mug before walking to an armchair, and placing his mug on a side table before sitting down, grunting as he did it.

“My joints aren’t too much of a fan of Christmas,” he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind the house being warm, I can lower the temperature if you want to.”

Steve smiled a bit. You had told him about how Jarvis was much more present in your father’s life than his own parents, and had been a true grandparent to you. Now that he was in his later seventies - or early eighties - your father had been trying to do the same for him he had done for your family, and caring for him as one would do for their elderly father, and Steve appreciated that very much.

“It’s alright, sir,” he assured him. “This is perfectly comfortable.”

Sure, the house was a little arm, but after nearly a decade living in California, this wasn’t something that would bother Steve.

“I like you, Rogers,” he sipped his tea. “Y/N says you are a very decent man.”

He nodded, feeling a little awkward, but still happy that your family liked him. It was important for him that they did.

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad she had good things to say about me,” he smiled. “I try to be a good partner.”

Jarvis hummed drinking his tea, and Steve held his mug a little awkwardly, and looked at his side when he heard the noise of your mother coming down the stairs, carrying boxes, and was quick to leave the mug somewhere to go help her.

“Thank you,” she spoke as he took a few things from her hands. “Just leave them over one of the tables or the couches, I haven’t decided what to do around the tree yet.”

He confirmed with a hum. If she was anything like you, it was best that he didn’t try to help with that part.

“I can get the gifts from upstairs,” he offered. “And you can set the tree?”

“That would be great,” she agreed. “Let me show you the room where I hid them.”

Steve followed her quickly and soon occupied himself with taking the many Christmas’ gifts, and stopped for a moment once he was met with his gift to you, wrapped in a very discreet paper that he hoped you would miss.

He had worked for months painting you, trying to make it perfect, and decided to give it to you as a Christmas gift.

Hopefully, you would like it - you always told him that you’d love to see him painting more.

“What is that?” your mother asked as he set it behind the tree. “I remember Tony said you sent it over so Y/N wouldn’t see it, but he never told me what it was.”

He looked behind his back and looked up to check if you were there.

“A painting,” Steve whispered. “I’ve been working on this portrait of her since July, and I think it’s ready.”

Your mother smiled, surprised.

“Well, that is a great gift,” she told him, looking very pleased. “Y/N will love it.”

Steve grinned a bit. At least there was something good in this holiday.

“I didn’t know you painted,” she noticed. “I mean, Y/N told me you teach art at Stanford, but a lot of people teach things they don’t practice.”

He nodded, feeling awkward all over again.

“She was telling the head of the department emailed her about hiring her to teach there,” she continued, kneeling to organise some gifts under the tree. “Do you think it is a good place to work at? She is not considering it, but maybe it is a good use of her time.”

He hesitated a little, pressing his lips together.

“Well, actually,” he breathed in and out. “I was fired, like… 10 minutes after our plane landed.”

Pepper turned to him with wide eyes, shocked, and he scratched the back of his neck.

“Budget cuts,” he explained and looked over in your room’s direction. “I haven’t told Y/N yet.”

She stood up, and gave him a motherly look.

Your mother couldn’t be much older than him - actually, Steve doubted she was completely out of her 30s yet - but yet, her energy was so different from the one he got from the most people he was around.

She really felt like was the mother of someone your age.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she told him. “Do you need help with anything now? Maybe a lawyer to help you with your rights or a recommendation letter if you want to apply to a different workplace or position?”

He shook his head, a little relieved that she wasn't offering him money or a position in your father's company.

"No," he answered, putting his hands on his waist. "I'm actually considering what I'm going to do now."

Steve was a good planner, and had saved enough money that he wouldn't need to worry about working for at least six months.

"Y/N actually suggested that I should quit my job and just become a full-time painter a while ago," he chuckled.

Your mother looked very interested.

“Well, are you interested in doing that?” she asked. “Do you think it’s something you’d enjoy doing?”

He pressed his lips together, thinking a little bit.

“I don’t know yet,” he lied.

When Steve was young, he loved the idea of being a painter. He loved painting and being an artist… but he had bills to pay, his family could need his help at any second, and he didn’t even know if he would be successful!

There was a lot that came into question aside from just enjoying it.

He was a man! And maybe that was a little bit of inherited sexism in him, but a man should be a provider!

Steve had grown up in a family that struggled economically, and he was terrified of living like that again or having his folks going through that again.

Poor guys couldn’t be artists.

“If you ever do,” she pulled him out of his thoughts. “I have a few friends in the right places I would love to introduce you to.”

Steve smiled a little and nodded.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he told her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And we won’t tell that to anyone,” Jarvis added. “We both know Tony is… Tony. And you should tell it yourself to Y/N.”

“Thank you,” he spoke to them.

He breathed slowly, looking for words, wanting to change the subject.

“I’ll go check on Y/N,” he decided. “Bring her a snack.”

“Try something sweet,” Jarvis suggested. “It pairs well with bad news.”

Steve cringed with himself, but nodded. Yes, it was best that he told you now and didn’t wait so much.

“Yes, sir.”

No matter what happened, he knew you two would work it out together.

. .

"Miss, PhD" was posted on my Patreon back on January! To read the full story before anyone else and have early access to all of my works, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​ @maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​​ ​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @tayrae515imagines​​​? @indecisiondecisions​​​? @afanofmanystuffs​​​? @patzammit​​​? @thevanishedillusion​​​? @widowsfics​​​? @alexisshoto​​​ @princess-evans-addict​​​ @dreams-of-feysand​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @dragonqueen0606​ @izbelross @isabelle-faith Miss PhD: @cosmic-darikano

#Miss PhD Series #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfic #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x you fanfiction #steve rogers x you fanfic #steve rogers x you fic #steve rogers x you fluff #steve rogers x you angst

[masterxmunson]

I'm In Love With You | Steve & Eddie (AU2)

My first date. Our first date. 

He had insisted many times that he would plan the entire thing. I knew he had the capability and would make it absolutely wonderful, but I wanted to try my hand at it. I had never been in a position to plan anything other than the weekly DND campaigns. I had a little of my own money thanks to the record store and the tips we brought in during our weekly Hideaway shows. I knew I couldn’t compete with the level Steve was on, our faux date the standard I was setting myself to. Those prices were something I could pull off, but I would make it romantic in my own way. 

I had put together a playlist of songs I thought fit us the week prior. The cassette-tape aux cord setup was good enough to get my Spotify playlist surrounding us. On my way to his place, I picked us up tea. I had come to learn he preferred earl grey tea lattes. I liked earl grey, but matcha was what I had been fixated on as of lately. We both had them in our hands, my other hand on the steering wheel and his on my thigh. How lovely it was to have his touch grounding me through the nerves I felt. It was pretty stressful planning a date for the man you were fucking obsessed with.

Our small talk was light and fun. He was sharing something funny Robin had done during their shift the night before. I talked about how I missed him during my Uncle Wayne’s impromptu attempt at a family dinner. We had spaghetti and beer, and I finally told him how serious I was about Steve. How serious we were in general. 

Shocked was the best way to describe his response to me and my confession. 

It was lunch time, mid-morning and incredibly cool out despite the shining sun. I had picked a small place on the popular square of Hawkins. It had only outdoor seating lined by small bricks and yellow umbrellas. The fans were lining the fencing outlining the perimeter. It was a comfort food place I frequented that specialized in vegan foods. There were plenty more options, though. 

I found us a parking spot not too far away and walked with my boyfriend, hand in hand along the sidewalk. “Ever been here?” I asked him, pointing to the small white building with a black roof. He shook his head just as we took the few steps up the ordering window and menu. I let him look over it for as long as he needed. “See anything you like?”

Admiring his side profile always did weird things to me. The gentle fall of his forehead into his sharp nose. The pout of his lips and perfect chin. His hair was intentionally falling around his face, touching the beauty marks lightly as he hummed with decision making. It was a difficult decision. There were many good choices. 

“I want what you get,” he finally decided, a small smile on his lips. 

I nodded once, squeezing out tangled fingers together before making the last few steps to the open window. “Can we have two of the French dips and two liquid death sparkling waters, please?” 

We arranged to eat there, choosing the table furthest from the sidewalk and hidden under the shade of a large tree. I made sure we were both free from the harsh light of the sun before I placed our number on the small metal stand in the middle of the black table. Our hands met over the cool metal, my fingers stroking over his knuckles tenderly. “Thanks for letting me do this,” I started. “I know it’s not fancy…” I said, a little embarrassed at that fact now that we were here. 

I had more plans for us that went beyond the small cafe, but were they worthy of him? I had so much confidence this morning, and I felt it drain out of my feet the moment I sat down. I was always the white trash of town, unworthy and poor. He was used to such extravagant things. He had told me so many times he didn’t care. He often pulled himself into my trailer and crawled into my bed, even before we were an official item.

[iam93percentstardust]

For the DVD commentary ask game:

“Tony!” he hears Steve call his name and turns to see him jogging up the path to the set, two coffee cups held in his hands.

“Here,” Steve says breathlessly, beaming that sunbright grin that always makes Tony a little breathless himself. “This one’s for you. Two creams, three sugars, right?” He catches a glimpse of the similar cup that Tony is already holding, and his expression falls. “But I guess you have one already.”

“Uh, actually, this is tea,” Tony says sheepishly, holding it out as he takes the one that Steve had offered. “For you, since I know you’re not a big coffee drinker. But it looks like you already have yours too.”

Steve blinks at it and then laughs, placing his now-free hand over his heart as he leans backwards. “Actually, that one’s for you too. You don’t seem like you’re at your best first thing in the morning, so I figured I’d bring you two.”

Now understanding the joke, Tony chuckles as well. “We make quite the pair, don’t we,” he comments amusedly, chugging half of his first coffee in one go.

oh i'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone my beloved! 💜 thanks for the ask!

This scene was inspired by an interaction I was lucky enough to witness between a close friend, E, and her then-crush (he's been her partner now for almost three years). They always showed up with coffee, and one day, E had the idea to get him a coffee instead of herself. Turned out it was the same day that her partner decided to get E one as well, and I thought it was just so cute of the two of them that I told myself if I ever got the opportunity, I would write it into a fic.

With this scene, I wanted to show both that the characters are thinking about each other (Steve might know everyone's birthday, but Tony is the only one he gets coffee for even though there are probably plenty of people on set who regularly drink coffee in the mornings) but also that they're paying closer attention to each other than they realize. For Steve's part, he notices that Tony needs two coffees in the morning instead of only one, and for Tony, it's that he realizes both that Steve drinks tea and the blend. I didn't mention the blend in the fic, but my personal headcanon is that it's Earl Grey as a shout out to my number one enabler and cheer reader @earliebirb.

I also wanted this to be a little bit of a trope subversion. We get a lot of fics in this fandom where Steve brings Tony food and generally just takes care of him, which is a top tier trope and I never get tired of it, but I don't always see a lot of this reverse. With this fic being written for Stony Loves Steve, it was important to me to establish that Tony wants to take care of Steve just as much as Steve wants to take care of him because Steve deserves all the love in the world. So I started it off the usual way with Steve bringing Tony something, he catches a glimpse of the cup that Tony already has to make the reader think "oh Tony's going to thank him for the gesture but he's already got a drink," but then nope! Turns out that this is actually for Steve because Tony is equally as smitten.

Two creams, three sugars is a reference to my personal coffee order on the very rare occasions when I drink coffee. I very much headcanon Tony as the kind of person who might down coffee like it's water but wants it to taste sweet while he does. He absolutely drinks pumpkin spice and gingerbread lattes when they're in season.

Steve putting his hand over his heart when he laughs is, of course, a Chris Evans thing, and it seemed especially fitting since this is an actor AU.

Ending the scene was pretty tough, but I liked going with the "We make quite a pair" line because they do! They're soulmates in every universe! Plus you can view it as Tony being kind of flirty and trying to gauge Steve's reaction before he asks him out later on.

#alle answers #ask games

[bryscorner]

Lovelies♡ I hope you all are doing great and eating well as also staying hydrated and taking care of your well-being! Just wanted to give a short update and do some house cleaning:

Due to being a college student (and as of late) since Thanksgiving break for me isn't until next week, I'm going to not be as "active" on here until my break starts since I have to do a ton of homework and exams (I'll definitely still like posts and reblog, but in terms of writing and posting that is TBD)

Thank you all for the love on my first Steve short drabble♡ I didn't think it would get that much love!! Thank you so so much lovelies♡

I am in the midst of trying to work on another Steve short story-ish as of late! It just takes a lot of brain storming and care so I don't generally have the time at the moment to keep continuing on said Steve fic but just know it's been in the works! I want to make sure that it's also another piece of writing that I'm proud of besides my Steve moodboard and "My Flower Girl" so this newest addition will be coming late!

Wanted to say as well that my mental state is a little bit in the grey area..? I'm not in a bad state just a bit lost at the moment so I've been trying to distract myself within my personal life with my hobbies that bring me peace and/or joy as a stress reliever, (I bought opening night tickets for the Hunger Games: BOSAS movie and I'm super excited to watch it on Friday!)

Strangely enough I've recently gotten into drinking teas! My current fav is definitely an earl gray and/or London Fog (but made at home)

#me <3