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lgbtqreads · 2 years

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New Releases: July 2022

This Way Out by Tufayel Ahmed (1st) Amar can’t wait to tell everyone his wonderful news: he’s found The One, and he’s getting married. But it turns out announcing his engagement on a group chat might not have been the best way to let his strict Muslim Bangladeshi family know that his happy-ever-after partner is a man―and a white man at that. Amar expected a reaction from his four siblings, but…

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biandlesbianliterature · 2 years

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I feel like with slow burn suspense like this in a story, it can turn out a couple of ways. One is that you get exactly what you were anticipating the entire time, and it feels like they were just dragging out the few plot points they had. Or, as is the cast for this book, it can slowly keep gathering steam towards an explosion at the end. While this book start off fairly slow-moving, it is effective in building tension, and that is definitely paid off.

Florida Woman by Deb Rogers was reviewed at the Lesbrary

#Deb Rogers #queer books #lgbtq books #sapphic books #lesbian books #lesbian fiction #sapphic fiction #animals #monkeys #thriller #fiction #review

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sunnysideprincess · 9 months

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Tony, with all his reputation as a playboy billionaire, is a little slow on the uptake. Natasha noticed this shortly after moving in with the team. He was genuinely unaware of the way ladies would drag their sunglasses down to their nose just to see the swing of his hips or the slow roll of his shirt sleeves. Pepper, despite their mutually thought break up, still drools a little when Tony's nimble fingers work the tie loose. And yeah, Nat wouldn't say no to a wild weekend away with the genius on a secluded cabin on the hill—doing nasty, nasty things to that tush.

But nothing compares Tony's oblivious nature when it comes to the men around him.

The way he drives Tiberus Stone crazy during the Met Gala, wearing a corset that's tight enough to give Victorian Era ladies a run for their money. The way one of the military brats shamelessly stares at his throat, licking his lips and subtly adjusting his pants. The way Barnes whines when Tony comes out of the armor, wearing the tight-just right-flight suit. The way Steve punches a hole in the refridgerator when he sees his shirt sitting loose on Tony's bare chest. (Apparently Tony and Nat are the resident clothing thieves. She doesn't disagree because Bruce's shirts and Clint's jackets look good on her.)

She sees it while tracing the spots on her mug. The resident genius billionaire is listing sideways, on the verge of falling off his perch on the counter top—because normal seats are for losers, he said. His head bumps on the shelving unit above and he mutters a curse, stretches his arm up to swat at it like it's a fly. But her attention catches at the stillness of two super soldiers staring at the patch of skin—a tiny sliver around the waist, the curve of the hip bone winking at them.

Tony yawns, jumps down to the floor and the loosely fitted sweats slide an inch below their designated spot. Something cracks and Nat watches them—the two Brooklyn boys pushing away their broken chopsticks and slowly, with the stillness of a pack of predators, rising up from their seats.

"I'm gonna go upstairs, use my bed for once," Tony tells them and sends Nat a slow smile. A knowing one.

He swings his hips around, humming an off beat tune and doesn't bother checking his own disheveled state of clothes.

It takes them all a moment to understand, and then Steve and Barnes are racing out of the kitchen after him, only to have the elevator doors slam on their faces.

Huh.

Looks like Tony might not be so oblivious after all.

#tony stark #tony thirst is real #stuckony #stevetony #buckytony #winteriron #stony #natasha romanofff #outsider's pov #natasha knows all sees all hears all #daily tony stark appreciation post #mcu #avengers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ficlet #ficlets #deb writes in between

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chicinsilk · 3 months

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US Vogue February 1, 1952

Square heel pump in calfskin. By DeLiso Debs. Moccasin with medium heel, in Benedictine leather from Donovan. Bag. By Lennox. French suede gloves, eight buttons long. By Roger Faré. Pin, sparkling with Benedictine stones and white wine. By Kramer. Glass bead necklace, in the same shimmering colors as the pin. By Coro.

Escarpin à talon carré en cuir de veau. Par DeLiso Debs. Mocassin à talon moyen, en cuir bénédictin de Donovan. Sac. Par Lennox. Gants en suède français, longs de huit boutons. Par Roger Faré. Épingle, scintillante de pierres Bénédictine et vin blanc. Par Kramer. Collier de perles de verre, dans les mêmes couleurs scintillantes que l'épingle. Par Coro.

Photo Richard Rutledge vogue archive

#us vogue #february 1952 #fashion 50s #spring #printemps #deliso debs #lennox #donovan #roger faré #kramer #coro #richard rutledge #fashion accessories #accessoires de mode

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titleknown · 1 year

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So, while I've talked about this in other posts, I figured I may as well compile it in one post with this nifty propaganda poster (more on that later)

Long story short, they're bringing back KOSA/the Kids Online Safety Act in the US Senate, and they're going to mark it up next Thursday as of the time of this post (4/23/2023).

If you don’t know, long story short KOSA is a bill that’s ostensibly one of those “Protect the Children” bills, but what it’s actually going to do is more or less require you to scan your fucking face every time you want to go on a website; or give away similarly privacy-violating information like your drivers’ license or credit card info.

Either that or force them to censor anything that could even remotely be considered not “kid friendly.” Not to mention fundies are openly saying they’re gonna use this to hurt trans kids. Which is, uh, real fucking bad.

As per usual, I urge you to contact your congresscritters, and especially those on the Commerce Committee, who'll likely be the ones marking it up.

Those senators are:

Maria Cantwell, Washington, Chair

Amy Klobuchar, Minnesota

Brian Schatz, Hawaii

Ed Markey, Massachusetts

Gary Peters, Michigan

Tammy Baldwin, Wisconsin

Tammy Duckworth, Illinois

Jon Tester, Montana

Kyrsten Sinema, Arizona

Jacky Rosen, Nevada

Ben Ray Luján, New Mexico

John Hickenlooper, Colorado

Raphael Warnock, Georgia

Peter Welch, Vermont

Ted Cruz, Texas, Ranking Member

John Thune, South Dakota

Roger Wicker, Mississippi

Deb Fischer, Nebraska

Jerry Moran, Kansas

Dan Sullivan, Alaska

Marsha Blackburn, Tennessee

Todd Young, Indiana

Ted Budd, North Carolina

Eric Schmitt, Missouri

J.D. Vance, Ohio

Shelley Moore Capito, West Virginia

Cynthia Lummis, Wyoming

Again, it doesn't work unless you do it en-masse, so make sure to call ASAP and tell them to kill this bill, and if they actually want a bill to allow/get sites to protect kids, the Federal Fair Access To Banking Act would be far better.

Also, this poster is officially, for the sake of spreading it, under a CC0 license. Feel free to spread it, remix it, add links to the bottom, edit it to be about the other bad internet bills they're pushing, use it as a meme format, do what you will but for gods' sake get the word out!

Also, shoutout to @o-hybridity for coming up with the slogan for the poster, couldn't have done it without 'em!

#poster #cc0 #creative commons #internet censorship #internet freedom #us politics #american politics #KOSA #kids online safety act #censorship #scary

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 2 months

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March 1970, High Street, Leatherhead, Surrey, UK - Freddie Bulsara auditioned for Sour Milk Sea band, after seeing a ‘vocalist wanted’ in the ‘Melody Maker, Freddie accompanied by 'roadies' Roger Taylor and John Harris

Rob Tyrell recalls seeing him for the first time: “Freddie auditioned with us in a youth club in crypt of a church in Dorking. We were all blown away. He was very confident. I don’t think it was any great surprise to him when we offered him the job.” Jeremy Gallop agrees: “He had an immense amount of charisma, which is why we chose him. Although, we were actually spoilt for choice that day. Normally at auditions, you’d get four or five guys who were rubbish, but we had two other strong contenders. One was a black guy, who had the voice of God, but he didn’t have the looks of Fred, and the other person was Bridget St. John.

Chris Chesney: “I remember Freddie being really energetic and moving around a lot at the audition, coming up and flashing the mike at me during guitar solos. He was impressive. There was an immediate vibe. He had a great vocal range. He sang falsetto; nobody else had the bottle to do that. He said ‘Do your own songs and I’ll make up my own words’ It was very clever and very good.”

“When Freddie joined,” Chris continues, “We were on a roll. We were in the habit of playing two or three gigs a week and we continued to do so. I think we played down at the Temple in Lower Wardour Street with Freddie, the Oxford gig, and a few others.”

The Oxford gig was in the ballroom at the Randolph Hotel, one of the grandest in the city, “It was like a society-type bash, debs in frocks and all that,” recalls Chris. “I remember our sound wasn’t great.” Jeremy Gallop adds: “Freddie definitely managed to get what people were there in the palm of his hand, just by sheer aggression and his good looks. He was very posy, very camp, and quite vain. I remember him coming to my house and looking in the mirror, poking his long hair. He said ‘I look good today. Don’t you think Rubber?’ I thought, ‘Fuck Off!’ I was only eighteen at the time, and didn’t think it was funny, Now It’s hilarious.”

The only other gig featuring Freddie which the other members of Sour Milk Sea are certain about was a benefit for the homeless charity ‘Shelter’, staged at the Highfield Parish hall in Headington, Oxford, on 20th March 1970 – just weeks before Freddie teamed up with Brian May and Roger Taylor in a new group. “That was probably the last gig we played with him,” remarks Chris Chesney.

Surprisingly enough for such a low-key gig, just like Ibex’s Bolton show, Sour Milk Sea’s appearance at Headington, also made the local paper. This time it was the ‘Oxford Mail’ and incredibly, the paper also included a photograph of the group complete with Freddie – the only known shot to exist of him with Sour Milk Sea. Typically Freddie is the only one looking at the camera.

The article included an interview with the band on account of Chris Chesney’s parents being minor celebrities. It also remarked that vocalist Freddie Bulsara had only arrived ‘a couple of weeks ago’, and quoted form his song ‘Lover’. More importantly, as Chris told the paper at the time: “I don’t feel we are like any other group. Our approach is based on our relationships with one another.”

These relationships held much promise, but were fraught with danger, as Chris soon discovered. “I was staying with ‘Rubber’ at the time.” He recounts. “Then Freddie asked me to stay with him in Barnes. So I did, and we started songwriting together, getting into each other’s heads. His chords were kind of weird. They broke all the rules. F-Sharp minor to F back to A. That was totally new for me. I thought it was all very current and that we could blend our two approaches together.”

Chris continues: “We did two or three of Freddie’s songs. He had some material from the Ibex days, including ‘Lover’, ‘Blag’ and ‘FEWA’ He was good at lyrics and we wrote a couple of numbers, some big, operatic pieces. Operatic in the sense that they broke down into solo guitar parts, then built up again vocally. I can’t for the life of me remember what they were called. He also introduced weird covers like ‘Jailhouse Rock’. We’d never considered playing Elvis, or Little Richard’s ‘Lucille’. Then he had his little rock ‘n’ roll medley, which pushed the band into a showbiz direction, which I liked. He also had a lot of stagecraft going. I had a good relationship with Freddie and he liked the way I moved on stage. We were like Bowie and Ronson, where we related physically to each other on stage”.

No one in Ibex, Wreckage or Sour Milk Sea had suspected that Freddie was gay. Indeed Mike Bersin has pointed out; “Freddie had a girlfriend, Mary Austin at the time”. “Ambiguous sexuality was par for the course then.” Recalls Chris Chesney. “You didn’t question it. Anybody who did was totally unhip.” Chris and Freddie’s friendship was platonic, but close: “He wanted to style me, give me some clothes to wear, and the relationship between us got quite strong. ‘Rubber’ soon realised there was nothing in it for him.”

(➡️ source: http://www.queenpedia.com/index.php?title=Sour_Milk_Sea)

#sour milk sea #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #1970

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saydams · 1 month

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the usa senate passed the budget that banned all aid to UNRWA and Biden signed it.

the senators who voted for this budget (preventing usa from funding UNRWA) are under the readmore. if your senator is on this list, call (202) 224-3121 and demand they find another way of funding relief to palestine.

Tammy Baldwin Wis.

Richard Blumenthal Conn.

Cory Booker N.J.

John Boozman Ark.

Katie Britt Ala.

Sherrod Brown Ohio

Laphonza Butler Calif.

Maria Cantwell Wash.

S. Capito W.Va.

Benjamin L. Cardin Md.

Tom Carper Del.

Bob Casey Pa.

Bill Cassidy La.

Susan Collins Maine

Chris Coons Del.

John Cornyn Tex.

C. Cortez Masto Nev.

Tom Cotton Ark.

Kevin Cramer N.D.

Tammy Duckworth Ill.

Dick Durbin Ill.

Joni Ernst Iowa

John Fetterman Pa.

Deb Fischer Neb.

Kirsten Gillibrand N.Y.

Lindsey Graham S.C.

Chuck Grassley Iowa

M. Hassan N.H.

Martin Heinrich N.M.

John Hickenlooper Colo.

Mazie Hirono Hawaii

John Hoeven N.D.

Cindy Hyde-Smith Miss.

Tim Kaine Va.

Mark Kelly Ariz.

Angus King Maine

Amy Klobuchar Minn.

Ben Ray Luján N.M.

Joe Manchin III W.Va.

Edward J. Markey Mass.

Mitch McConnell Ky.

Robert Menendez N.J.

Jeff Merkley Ore.

Jerry Moran Kan.

Markwayne Mullin Okla.

Lisa Murkowski Alaska

Chris Murphy Conn.

Patty Murray Wash.

Jon Ossoff Ga.

Alex Padilla Calif.

Gary Peters Mich.

Jack Reed R.I.

Mitt Romney Utah

Jacky Rosen Nev.

Mike Rounds S.D.

Brian Schatz Hawaii

Charles E. Schumer N.Y.

Jeanne Shaheen N.H.

Kyrsten Sinema Ariz.

Tina Smith Minn.

Debbie Stabenow Mich.

Dan Sullivan Alaska

Jon Tester Mont.

John Thune S.D.

Thom Tillis N.C.

Chris Van Hollen Md.

Mark R. Warner Va.

Raphael G. Warnock Ga

Elizabeth Warren Mass.

Peter Welch Vt.

Sheldon Whitehouse R.I.

Roger Wicker Miss.

Ron Wyden Ore.

Todd Young Ind.

#usa politics #unwra #palestine #gaza #us politics

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manderleyfire · 3 days

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hey! may i ask an expert! do you know any tv couples with a proper age gap? but like in a realistic non-vampire-robot-zombie-bullshit way? there's lots of cinema examles that i love A Perfect Murder, Autumn in New York, In the Line of Fire and many many old hollywood ones but i struggle to find a HEALTHY tv age gap representation!

hi to you, too!

i thought to start with ‘succession’ but you capslocked ‘healthy’, lol (mad men’s joan x roger is also out for the same reason, i guess)

the most realistic example that comes to my mind is anna and bates from bates motel from ‘downton abbey’? but from what I remember, they are as boring as beans. (i try to recollect some other costume tv dramas for reasons (for like some obvious historical esp premodern europe historical reasons) but im failing at doing so, lol. only ‘detective anna’ is there in my corner! it’s a silly supernatural mystery drama about a bright rich young girl, who’s using her power as a medium to help a sophisticated world-weary sassy detective solve crimes! it’s utterly soap-y but wonderful, tbh)

the only proper ship that has it all — the chemistry, the right pace, the development, the ups and downs of having a romantic relationship with a big difference in age — is mark and lexie from ‘greys anatomy’; hands down the best plot twist-y couple who organically became one of the lead ships of the show.

but unfortunately an age gap ship rarely happens to be a main couple? and even if they are, it’s 99% temporarily just to help to prop up the lead pair/love interest? (richard x monica from ‘friends’ for example (btw they ARE one the ‘healthiest’ age gap tv representation, if you ask me); or deb x special agent what’s his name from ‘dexter’). the B plot couples sometimes are superior to the A plot couples for sure, but i can’t recall a fitting example in our case.

however the ao3 exists for a reason & that’s why i can’t pass by skye x coulson from ‘agents of shield’ (even if they are considered as ‘canon divergence’ by the main audience not me tho); if abc wasn’t a bunch of chickens we would’ve had not only a masterfully written zombie x alien super spies crazy in love dynamic but also the most remarkable age gap representation that’s ever graced television. but but but 🥲

#i kinda know that my babies jeff x annie also fit in the box but personally i put them in a different category sooooo #it's an angle of perception tbh but i need to mention them just in case *wink wink*#i'll add more later if my brain comes back to life!#ask #anon

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shield-agent78 · 9 months

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Educational Desire

Parring: Debbie (OC) x Steve Rogers, Debie x Bucky Barnes, Debie x Peter Parker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1520

Warnings: NSFW, professor/student relations, language, flirtation, alcohol use, light BDSM, foursomes, voyeurism, oral sex (female and male receiving), anal sex, fingering, vaginal sex

Summary: Debbie is a college professor working within the Avenger’s compound. Her classes are usually full of cadets needing to learn another language. However, when Peter, Steve and Bucky decide to take her class, their reasons are far from educational. Can Debbie let down her guard, allowing herself to find the man or men of her dreams? Will the guys make a play for their professor?

Chapter 6 of 6

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful beta readers and support system @sapientesgladio and @annaofthenorthernlights All characters in this story are over 21.

Created For: @julybreakbingo / heavy breathing/grunting/groaning/grunting/gasping / foreplay @pparkerbingo/ kink discovery I5 @ultimatechrisbingo / that’s America's Ass N4 @anyfandomgoesbingo / title of your sex tape B2

“Have you jerked off today? If not, I want to help you.” Debbie’s new self confidence is extremely sexy. Her words dripped like honey. Her eyes focused upon Steve as to challenge him to make his long anticipated move.

Steve’s smirk tells Deb he finds it irresistible as hell. “No, baby girl, I haven’t. I rather cum in you.” His ocean blue eyes run over her body, sending delightful shivers down to her core.

She takes a step closer to Steve, who is now standing in the middle of the kitchen with a teasing smirk. “You’re a sassy ass.”

“That’s America’s ass, to you.”

“Um, do you realize that sounds like the title to your sex tape.. if you had one, of course.”

“What makes you think I don’t, Doll?” Now it was her turn to blush. She felt the heat reach her cheeks, knowing Steve was getting to her.

Buck leans his back on the bar, sipping his whisky. “You walked right into that one,” he jokes.

“Oh, who asked you anyway?” Deb mutters, trying to gain composure.

Bucky places the tumbler onto the counter. He makes three large strides towards Deb. “You were the one who asked me to judge this little flirting match of yours.” He runs his hungry eyes over her body, his cock twitching in anticipation. “Considering we all have put the moves on you, doll face, I don’t understand why we haven’t got a room and fucked it out yet.”

“With lots of cums from me, baby,” adds Peter from his seat.

Buck re-approaches her again with his play, as his voice drops an octave as he asks, "Are you a morning person or a moaning person? Can we figure it out?" He thumbs Deb’s lower lip, making her blush while her goddess fans herself swooning. Bucky smirks at his success, backing up once more, leaning against the counter.

The guys didn’t play fair. They had her turned on her body, wanting them to take her now. She gains her composure, clearing her throat nervously. “You just might find out, Sergeant Barnes.” Her voice slightly shakes with anticipation. Bucky gives her a wink, adjusting himself with his right hand to relieve the pressure of his growing erection.

Peter bites his bottom lip while undressing Debbie with his eyes. "Are you my homework? Because I wanna slam you on a desk and do you twice because I put my name in the wrong place.” He knows with just one glance he has won her over. “Stupid geography test….”

Oh, God, what had she gotten herself into? Debbie thinks as her inner goddess applauses and pats Deb on the shoulder. Good girl, you got them to prove their points! Now, go get them! “You guys are to the point.”

“Nope, it’s amazing how long we can last,” Steve adds. Deb's mind echoes the previous question, she thought to herself.

Steve and Bucky exchange glances. Buck nods towards Peter. “I’m game. Pete, how about you?”

“Anything Deb wants is perfect with me. Besides, a hottie in my bed is always well-treated.” His lust-filled eyes run over her body. Debbie backs up nervously while her inner goddess is giving a fist pump.

Steve salutes up to her, grabbing hold of her waistband, not letting her back away from him. His lips meld with hers and that’s all it takes for her to melt. Bucky and Pete senses it immediately, stripping quickly. She’s lost in his kiss as he backs her up to the small dinette table. He lifts her effortlessly upon the table and then pulls off her pants.

"I'm buying you skirts from now on," Bucky whispers into Debbie’s ear as his teeth nip at her neck.

Peter hastily unbuttons her blouse and the intimate lacy articles underneath. They are discarded to the floor, allowing him to enjoy a beautiful view. His eagerness slowed as he cups her soft breasts, admiring them. “Fuck, your tits are beautiful, baby.” Debbie gasps as he latches his mouth on the right, giving it the love it deserves as his hand plays with her left nipple.

Debbie’s fingers immediately go to Peter’s hair, tugging it gently, not wanting him to stop. As Peter moans during the act, the reverberations and sound causes the desire to pool in her lower abdomen.

Steve kneels before her. His naughty tongue circles her clit as two fingers dive into her divine wetness. “Fuck baby, all this for us?” Bucky palms his hard cock while his wet tongue dances with Debbie’s.

She tilts her head backwards, a breathy “Ye-yes,” falling from her lips.

“Yes, what?” He demands. His thumb hovering over her sensitive nub, she could feel the heat from him but him not touching her clit caused her to whine.

“Y-es, Captain,” she answers obediently.

“Good girl.” Steve then rubs his thumb in circular motions on her clitoris. Giving the good girl what she deserves.

“Buck mmm — you need to feel how tight her pussy is.”

“You want me to do that, baby girl?” Bucky husks against the shell of her ear, before nipping her lobe.

“Mm yes, Sergeant.”

“Which hand?”

“Left,” she stutters.

“Looks like our girl has a metal arm kink.” He moves to kneel beside Steve, who has removed his fingers, while keeping his hot tongue teasing her roused pearl. Cool metal fingers dive into her warm pussy, causing an excited shudder to radiate through her body. “You’re so wet, Draga.” Buck curls his long fingers, pumping them slowly at first, then faster.

Debbie moans loudly, giving Peter’s tongue the chance to slither in and kiss her deeply.The sensual sounds from her causes his arousal to harden. Eagerly, he swallows each of her moans while he grasps his cock. “Looks like we are finding more kinks,” he states after breaking the kiss.

The overstimulation from the men sends desire coursing through her veins as she comes undone under the special care of her lovers. Bucky maintains eye contact with her, removes his fingers and licks them.

Peter picks Debbie up, carrying her into his bedroom as the others follow. He lays her on the bed like an honored porn star as the three climb onto the mattress. Deb sits up, motioning to the men with a come hither finger, scooting back with a teasing smile.

Peter grabs her ankle, pulling her gently toward the three as she giggles. “Baby, tell us what you want.” Her eyes darken with excitement.

“I want you to fuck my mouth. Steve to fuck my pussy and Bucky to fuck my ass.”

Steve’s eyes darken as he gets comfortable on the bed. He pats his lap pulling Debbie to straddle his waist. She runs her eyes over his girth's length. “All aboard, Sweetheart, it’s all yours.” She leans down to kiss him as her fair falls around his face like a veil. Her pussy welcoming his length as one would a long-lost friend. Steve places his hands upon her waist.

Bucky grabs the lube from the nightstand, running a generous amount over his flesh, fingers pumping them into her ass. Deb whimpers as he replaces them with his cock. Steve begins to thrust upward and Bucky inward.

Peter moves close holding his weeping cock to her lips. Deb licks her lips and then takes him into her moist mouth. “Ohhh fuck,” he curses,as he grasps her hair and tugs it tightly.

Pornographic noises radiate through the small space. Steve helps her ride him with ease. Bucky thrusts into his lover, making sure they are both satisfied. Peter fucks her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. The way her body takes each man has them panting. Steve’s cock presses against her sweet spot while Deb bucks her hips backwards towards Bucky. Her body is close to unbridled passion.

Steve fondles her breasts, moaning while Bucky reaches around to rub her clit. Peter places one hand on her neck, adding a small amount of pressure. One more thrust has her body quaking around her lovers. Steve and Bucky have filled her with their cum, nestled deep inside her. The warm sensation causes Debbie to moan loudly around Peter's cock. He hits the back of her throat, his hot cum coating its prize.

Debbie collapses, her body spent. Steve cuddles her close to his chest as they come down from their highs. Fingertips run gently over her back.

Bucky retrieves a wet cloth for each cleaning Debbie first. She hums gratefully, keeping her eyes closed as the moist fabric grazes her lady parts. He lays down beside Steve resting a hand on Debbie’s ass. Peter lies on the opposite side of Steve beside Debbie, resting his arm around her waist.

“Hi, princess—” Peter brushes her sweaty hair out of her face, kissing her gently on her lips. Steve plants a kiss upon her forehead, as well as Bucky.

“Mmm, hi,” she opens her eyes slightly, gazing upon Peter’s face.

“Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up,” Peter reassures her. Deb smiles softly, her eyes fluttering close. It’s only moments before falling asleep in her lovers arms.

#peter parker smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #plural relationships #steve rogers #bucky barnes #peter parker #professor x student #marvel smut #darlin' writes #july break bingo #anyfandomgoesbingo #ultimatechrisbingo #pparkerbingo23

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tastethebloodofmeatthawsmoth · 4 months

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"To challenge longstanding mythology that West Virginians were incapable of autonomous resistance - a perception seemingly shared by both coal industry apologists and professional agitators - [David] Corbin published a scathing indictment of the latter in the Journal of American History, titled 'Betrayal in the West Virginia Coal Fields: Eugene Debs and the Socialist Party of America, 1912-1914.' .... Corbin exposed a vein of regional radical history that would be explored by fellow labor historian Fred Barkey in his account of the history of the Socialist Party in early 20th century West Virginia. Even as late as 1993, apologists for Debs would be trying to rescue him from Corbin's indictment, most notably Roger Fagge's 'Eugene V Debs in West Virginia, 1913: A Reappraisal' published in West Virginia History." - Gordon Simmons, preface to David Allan Corbin's Gun Thugs, Rednecks, and Radicals

Going to have to read the article.

#labor history #current reading #gun thugs rednecks and radicals

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anika-ann · 2 years

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Love on the Brain - part 4

Ch4: Work It Out

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 6800

Summary: Things that keep hanging in the air should be addressed. Right? You’ll get to the bottom of what’s bothering Steve; for his own good.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing. I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics;

“That's what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you're not so lovable.” ― Deb Caletti

The chains cried as another brutal punch fell on the heavy bag they were holding.

The sound was followed by a set of muffled thuds in a violent staccato, punctuated by more creaks, growing faster and louder, thud-thud-thud of hands wrapped in a white tape only, because who needed gloves when delivering punches straight to the leather-covered bag heavier than their actual weight was, right?

There was a reason why you and Steve, while sparring together regularly, had set a routine which involved each of you warming up separately. As much as Steve told you that it was admirable how you worked and how you could almost keep up, the fact was that he was a supersoldier and that his work-out needs differed from yours; drastically so in some aspects.

So while you happily started with shadow-boxing, practising both punches and kicks, and continued on a heavy bag of 60 pounds – because this was a warm-up – Steve was usually through on a significantly heavier bag to let off some steam before you moved onto working together.

He claimed it was a great training of balancing the strength behind his punches, alternating between sparring with you and beating up the poor sand-filled thing, and after initial reluctance stemming from the fear of getting your ribs shattered if he failed to control himself, you learned to trust him.

He never gave you a reason to question the faith you put in him; not as a leader, not as a sparring partner who could easily break about every bone in your body should he choose to. Perhaps you were a masochist and a thrill-seeker, but there was a rush of adrenalin straight through your veins whenever you recalled the power he wielded and controlled with such ease.

It was undeniably attractive to see him get lost in the mock fight, but never lose his head; safety in knowing he would never hurt you despite being more than able to.

There lied the reason why you called him a gentle giant. He could leave you exhausted, he could leave your body aching from pushing your limits so you could become better, but he would never-

The next cry of metal was so loud you stopped mid-movement, head snapping to the direction of the noise just in time to see the bag land good twenty-five feet from where it used to be hanging.

Your lips parted as your jaw slacked a bit in shock.

That… hadn’t happened in a while. In fact, you had never seen it happened, only heard about it from other Avengers.

Steve stood frozen in place, battle ready with his arm already flexed again, motionless besides his ribcage expanding harshly with each frantic breath.

You were never blind to what Steve looked like during work-out; too tight shirts you were certain were Tony’s fault, a plot to torment all the ladies, seams crying around his bulging biceps, looser sweats with ties hanging from under the hem of his shirt teasing you to pull at them. Forehead damp with sweat if faced with a true challenge to his strength and reflexes, messy hair sticking to it and just begging to be fixed, his lips redder than red, skin glowing.

But now, he looked… more. He looked like he used to be when on a mission, when you only caught a glimpse of him, because time was of short supply and unless you wanted to get hurt, you couldn’t spare a moment to linger with your gaze.

Standing still, panting, expression darkened, he appeared like a god of war; glorious, beautiful and utterly terrifying to those who were to cross his path.

Inspiring to those who stood by his side.

Troubled to those who had the honour of knowing him. He worried you.

“Hey,” you called out lowly, automatically making your way to him, scanning his bandages to check whether he broke skin with the punch that managed to rip the bag off its hinges.

Steve took a deep breath, easing his stance, letting his hands fall after he moved a strand of his hair that had fallen into his eyes. His gaze flickered to you, a slightly guilty grimace paining his face.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” you asked, watching him flex his fingers in the wraps, no blood stains visible on the surface. He shook his head and smiled tightly.

“I’m fine. Didn’t mean to scare you… sorry.”

Didn’t mean to; yet, he did. A little. Witnessing that was as scary as arousing… and worrisome.

“Not as sorry as you’ll be when Tony finds out,” you commented as your gaze skimmed over the mess on the floor and the cracked metal hinges which had been specifically designed to withstand Steve’s serum-induced fists. So much for that.

He scoffed. “I don’t really give a damn about what Stark thinks.”

“Touché,” you uttered, recalling very clearly that today, you both were on the verge of throwing a punch – or a marker – in Tony’s direction.

Steve seemed to get on edge even faster after talking to Reid, which was the reason why you dragged him here in the first place; now, observing the damage he had done, you hoped you wouldn’t get a ruptured spleen for your trouble or something.

“Well. You seem thoroughly warmed up to me.” Understatement. And so am I after seeing that. “Ready to spar?”

A simple shrug was the only answer you got and you didn’t push for more. Even if you were rather proud of how you could get Steve open up and talk, he could be a man of few words. You would take what you could get today.

You both put on shin and instep guards – him for your benefit really, his bruises would be gone by the evening – and faced each other on the mats, wrapped hands lifted readily, feet light so you could move as swiftly as needed. Then, you waited.

And waited.

“I’m not gonna attack you first, Jones,” he announced nonchalantly, making your jaw drop for the second time since you arrived here.

Not because of his attitude, damn that —but because of what he called you. You were training, letting of some steam, yes – but it was just the two of you.

He never called you anything but Sparkles, or rarely your first name when you were alone. Not for almost two years now. It stung worse than a punch.

“Alright, Mr. Cranky,” you muttered under your breath, having a fraction of second to see his almost indifferent face fall – but then you advanced on him.

He covered you jabs with laughable ease, but that was expected; you would usually throw more punches than he would, because your normally gentle giant didn’t want to wound you. Joke was on him.

He ducked when you threw a right hook and stopped your uppercut with his forearm, blocking the next hook as well.

He barely avoided the knee that would have probably ended up in his groin rather than in his ribs.

He had just enough time to lift his eyebrows in challenge – maybe he understood this was your body’s involuntary reaction trying to tell him he was acting a bit like a dick, no matter his understandable reasons – before you got him lightly in his ribs with a well-aimed low hook.

You stepped back in an instant, giving him space. His body was much firmly built than yours, but that was the deal; after a landed hit, the attacker would back out for a few seconds.

You never got the chance to advance again as he commenced his own attack.

It was a back and forth for a while, punches and kicks. You ended up with your leg pinned to his left side when he blocked you again and didn’t let go instantly, appearing surprised he grabbed your leg only so close to his torso. Which you didn’t blame him for – it was clear he was off his game. That was why you brought him here.

Balancing on your left leg, body still tilted sideways, you offered further assistance with whatever was throwing him off… besides the fact he had a stalker.

“So… you wanna tell me what’s wrong, Steve?”

He dropped your foot as if he got burned, raising his arms again to continue the sparring.

“What?”

Oh we’re playing this game, are we? Suit yourself.

You ducked as he threw a surprisingly powerful left hook, followed by a knee and a side-kick you had to get on the ground for to avoid. You curled into a ball, rolled over and stood up swiftly, blowing the strand of hair that escaped from your ponytail off your face.

What had changed so drastically? What was pissing him off so much all of sudden? You knew being questioned took a toll of a person – but this was Steve.

Did the reality catch up with him at last? Was he maybe a bit scared for a change? Or was it the fact that Spence had to take apart his routine to create the timeline for the unsub’s photos?

Was it something else?

Whatever it was, the way he blocked you – not only your punches, but also your attempts to read him, his demeanour hot one minute and cold the next – rendered your throat tight. You truly were worried for him.

You wanted to help.

“You’re on edge,” you pointed out, mindful to keep you voice soft this time, inviting; like he would for you even if you were be acting bitchy. “And I get it, I do, but you were completely fine before my old team arrived and… what’s that about?”

He clenched his jaw, remaining quiet as he tried to jab you, left hook, then right, all blocked by your forearms, not without a price to pay.

Well, you felt that and wasn’t that a message on its own; let it go.

Large pig-headed man.

You tried to sweep his leg from under him as you ducked to avoid the kick aimed at your head, nearly catching a heel to your neck when he managed to take off – damn supersoldier muscles, cheater – and landed on both feet just beside you.

You tried again aimlessly and used the distraction to turn around swiftly and thrust your right elbow backwards at your shoulder level. He stopped it easily, as he did with your left one you drove back along your waist.

At the next hit, he grabbed your arm firmly, catching the other as well before you could try to free yourself.

“You know, earlier you were pissed I’m not taking this seriously. Now that I do, it’s wrong all of sudden?” he hissed, clearly growing irritated by the second.

You weren’t sure whether that was a good thing or not – he needed to get it out for certain, but you sure didn’t like him talking like that with you. He wasn’t being fair.

But at least he released you, slightly pushing you away, both literally and figuratively.

“Hey, I didn’t say that-” you protested, only to be cut off.

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like that’s what you’re saying, Jones!”

You winced.

Steve didn’t even raise his voice – but there was a definiteness in his words, tone harsher than he had ever spoken; with you at least. Tony and others heard much worse.

You got the message this time: stop fucking prying.

And the ‘Jones’ indicated you had no right to pry in the first place.

Your heart thundered in your chest, air stuck in your lungs. It stung, but you supposed you deserved this.

You swallowed heavily, licking your lips, letting your arms fall to your sides for a moment. One glance into Steve’s eyes – no matter how hard the blue steel in them was – told you he didn’t mean for his words to come out like this.

But they did, because you pushed him, thinking you could fix whatever was wrong instead of giving him space. Because you were sometimes as stubborn as he was.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I…I just want to help. I’m sorry I pried,” you whispered in a conciliatory manner, his hard features softening just minutely. You tried to smile, even though it turned out more of a grimace, you guessed. “We can just… keep punching and kicking.”

And to support your claim, you got ready again, giving him two full seconds before you attacked him, pouring in your own frustration with the situation as well. A kick aimed at his ribs, ducking to avoid his hook, a back-elbow to his back; he dodged again. You blocked his jab, your fist brushing his shirt when he jumped back to escape your uppercut.

With his next punch, his arm stayed outstretched a second too long – circling his right wrist, you ducked under his arm and attempted to twist it behind him. Naturally, he was fast to follow the movement with his body to avoid that.

You had to let go so you could cover yourself – but there was no need all of sudden.

He didn’t advance on you again.

He took a large step back, hands up, palms opened to you before he locked them in fists and retreated further, a curse on his lips.

“Fuck--- I’m sorry,” he blurted out heartily, his mask melting into a sincere apologetic expression. “Truce, please.”

Like a good agent following her Captain’s orders – and a good friend, you hoped – you dropped your hands in an instant, even if baffled at the abrupt change and the apology.

He didn’t hit you. He didn’t hurt you. And if he was rougher than usual in his movements, you couldn’t really blame him.

If he referred to his harshly spoken words, well. Those were on you as much as they were on him.

“What are you sorry about?”

He licked his lips, eyes filled with regret so genuine you relaxed your shoulders right away, your chest as if squeezed in a vice. The worry and pity took over being irked with him in a blink of an eye. More so when he appeared confused at you not knowing what he meant.

“About… snapping. At you. I didn’t mean to.”

Never at you, as if he whispered in the tenderness of the single syllable. You.

“You didn’t snap. You could never,” you said, the white lie effortless on your lips even as Steve arched his brow at it. You didn’t fight the soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “You’re the gentle giant, after all. And I shouldn’t have pushed. I just… I just want you to know I’m here, not only trying to investigate, but even if you want to just talk about it.”

He was better at smiling than you were; his gratitude shone through even if the smile was barely there.

“I know. Thank you. I’m just… not sure I can.”

“And that’s fine. That’s perfectly fine,” you assured him, knowing he didn’t entirely buy it.

That wasn’t how you worked. You barely left things unspoken between you, preferring having the air cleared.

…maybe except for when it came to how you felt about him. That was your dirty little secret only people like Natasha – damn Russian spies – knew of and much more people joked about.

“We can just keep punching and kicking,” you suggested, one corner of your lips lifting higher.

As both of you repaired your stance, it was exactly what you did.

To an outsider, perhaps nothing changed; you remained silent and you kept sparring. The air however, turned more serene; sweeter and then more playful.

If Steve caught you, his touch felt gentler and it lingered. When he managed to cut away your balance, his arms were swift to ease your landing and his hand was already awaiting you to help you back up while you regained your composure and barely even realized that you were in fact, flat on your back.

This time, when Steve caught your elbow, he rewarded you with a tiny smirk as you looked over your shoulder; it had you breathing faster, the immediate warmth of his body, the little cockiness in his eyes, the proximity of his face. The strength and control over his grip… it was all addicting.

You only realized you were biting down on your lip as you stood frozen with your back to him, in a surreal hug of sparring partners, when his gaze flickered down to your mouth and your breath caught in your throat. His own lips were like a magnet, your head instinctively gravitating closer, tasting the soft pants fanning your face.

God, you never faced a temptation so strong in your life. Just a few inches and you’d taste his lips, finally, finally after craving to do so for the longest time. And you’d cherish that experience forever, even if he’d pull away, the memory never fading.

But would he? Pull away? He couldn’t be unaffected, could he? He was the one who looked down first, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your arm, calloused finger soft in the minute movement.

It was when you lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes so uncharacteristically close, when you snapped from your reverie; and apparently, it did the same for him, because he released you from his hold, setting you free.

The hold on your heart was a completely different matter. But the fog in your brain dispersed, leaving you with a cold-stone reminder that had you tried to kiss him and had he pulled away, you would have shattered your friendship over a mere second of bliss – and you’d regret it for the rest of your life.

Yes, you’d remember it forever; but no taste could be sweet enough to make up for that.

You refused to look him in the eye during your next attack, focused on your technique, his face but a background noise. Whatever you’d see in his expression, you doubted you would be able to handle it.

A brief moment of hesitation had him twist your arm behind your back, your body instinctively leaning into the natural flow of the movement to avoid pain. You bent to make yourself smaller, earning yourself the opportunity to swipe your leg and connect your heel with the underside of his knee hard, all while you pulled at his arm.

With a heavy thud, you were suddenly free of Steve’s grip, his long legs tangling with yours, throwing you off balance.

With a surprised yelp, you landed on your side; but the fighter in you saw a new opportunity when realizing you got your opponent hit the ground. Before you could think twice, you rolled over hastily, pinning his hands down by his wrist, straddling his thighs.

A shocked laugh spilled from your lips as you found yourself on top of him, leaving his staring at you with wide eyes and an absolutely baffled expression, a blush hinting at his shame already spreading up his neck.

“Holy shit!”

You had practised this, step-by-step, from one opportunity to do that to another; but you had never succeeded to deliver these moves during a sparring session, Steve’s control over each situation simply too immense for you to overcome. Until today.

Damn, this felt good.

For more than one reason.

You never sat on a warm marble; but seated on the firm cords of muscles on Steve’s thighs, albeit covered by the layer of sweats, you imagined it felt pretty much alike. The rising and falling mass of his torso had his shirt ride up just a few inches, revealing a thin trail of hair you might have seen before but never had the chance to appreciate so up close before. And who would have guessed he was so good-looking from this angle, with a little sweat beading on his forehead?

Especially when he seemed so surprised and ashamed by being bested by you?

The warmth of victory only barely beat the heat in your abdomen of a very different origin.

“You’re distracted, GG. But I’ll take it what I can get,” you sing-sang, ecstatic and highly amused at the emotions playing over his face “I think I like coming out on top of you for once.”

His eyes grew wider, if possible, his face set aflame; and as if on cue, so did yours, because you realized your little Freudian slip.

“-on top of this—round--- of our sparring session I mean!”

Nailed it.

Except you fixed nothing.

Embarrassment at the wheel, you hastily took your retreat, climbing off Steve without touching him more than necessary to minimalize his discomfort. He propped up on his hand once he was free, blinking at you, still dazed by the turn of events which ended up with him landing on his back and you putting a foot in your mouth.

You offered him a hand to help him stand, more of a polite gesture than actual assistance, but he took it anyway, climbing to his feet.

“So…” you hummed, desperately trying to forget about how pleasant the feeling of his thick muscles between your legs was. “Ready to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Steve huffed, raising his fist to start another – hopefully only physical – fight and didn’t answer.

Stubborn kettle calling pot back.

“Is it the scrutiny?” you guessed, dodging his left hook. “Because I know that sucks a lot, and imagine it does, even more for you. So… it’s really fine to be pissed, you know.”

He frowned and it took a few attempts of each of you before he sighed and confirmed your suspicion.

“I know.”

“Good. And just so you know, no one likes it.”

“Yeah… right,” he muttered, swiftly crouching to avoid a round-kick aimed at his head. “Look, I… I did have enough of scrutiny in the forties and even these days with the tabloids. I don’t need… some kid from the FBI to pick up at every detail of my life. …no matter how smart he is,” he added, grumbling.

Ah.

There lied another problem. Reid’s bedside manner, so to speak, wasn’t always the best despite his best efforts and undoubtable improvements. His hunger for knowledge and desire to share it with others sometimes overrode his human skills; that was how his genius brain worked.

You supposed that in a way, he was similar to Tony; with only half of his arrogance and hundred times smaller self-esteem.

“I know Spence sometimes doesn’t think of how things might sound when he’s stating facts,” you said in his defence. “That’s just him. But he means well and this is his job.”

Steve only grumbled again, as if wasn’t really convinced.

Once more, you took what you could get; and you didn’t mean the uppercut you barely dodged.

“Emily asked about you too, you know. To get an insight on how others see you.”

“Oh. What did you tell her?” Steve pried, clearly curious. Your lips twitched upwards.

“That you’re a stubborn little shit.”

Steve’s deadpan expression and the sudden halt in his movements was golden. You snickered, covering your mouth when it turned into a full-blown laughter. The mighty Captain just stood there, unimpressed by your antics – and questioning whether you were pulling his leg or telling the truth.

It only sent you into another fit of laughter, the sound echoing in the empty gym – and so, so freeing.

Steve couldn’t keep his composure anymore, snorting an incredulous laugh as he shook his head. His eyes were warm as he watched you, failing to look even remotely mad.

“It just slipped out! And it’s true!” you cried out, your snickers melting into a softer smile as you stepped closer. “But you’re still my favourite person, so I told her good things too. I sure told her you don’t deserve to deal with this-“ shit “-mess.”

“Well… it’s not that bad if I deal with it with you, Sparkles.”

It was moments like this, when the cerulean sea of his irises swarmed over you in an affectionate wave that had you wonder if taking the leap of faith and telling him your feelings went beyond platonic would be so bad; it was moments like these when you allowed yourself the blissful second of believing he might feel the same.

For the moment, however, you simply tried to find joy in hearing him call you Sparkles again and in his gentle smile that felt like first rays of sunshine in the morning.

And the greedy person you were, you went to hug him to bask in their warmth.

He stepped back, an apologetic grimace on his face.

“I’m really sweaty-”

“Damn, I didn’t notice,” you lied easily, sarcasm evident. I noticed when I was on top of you and I didn’t mind, but sure. Suit yourself. You hoped it wasn’t just a false excuse – because being banned from Steve’s hugs would be like being deprived of water. “Well, that changes everything. No hug then.”

“I owe you one later,” he promised as he raised his fists again, smirking.

“I’ll take it.”

You would, happily. And you’d take the challenge too, even if your stomach was trying to let itself known, reminding you that the only food you had today, was half a granola bar you shoved into your mouth before climbing to the shower.

Three blocked punches later, you tried to kick his feet from under Steve again; he kept his balance this time, even if barely, hand quick and sneaky as he snatched you, causing you to yelp at first and giggle a moment later when you managed to escape his hold.

“Really? Trying twice in a day?” he complained, feigning exasperation. “Oh Sparkles, now you’ve done it…”

You wolfed half a pizza before most occupants of the room as much as started on their second slice; an unfortunate effect of your unhealthy habit of not eating for half a day and then using the opportunity to its fullest as soon as it arose.

You weren’t proud of yourself and your unladylike manners, but to the credit of both the BAU and the Avengers team, no one seemed offended. If anything, Tony appeared impressed and Steve was busy eating just as fast; the only difference was that while you were about to be full of pizza and regrets once you finished yours, Steve would be halfway through his second due to his supersoldier metabolism.

Bless. That muscled body needed sustenance.

As you all munched on the very late lunch Tony had ordered, seated round the table, a relatively pleasant silence settled over the room.

Normally, you’d minded to have so much space for dark thoughts of a case as personal as this one – and boy, it did not get more personal than threatening to someone as dear to you as Steve – but having been exercising, your body was still flooded with endorphins. And given who your sparring partner had been, appearing much more content than before as well, perhaps it wasn’t the only hormone coursing your veins.

You weren’t happy per say, but your mind, while remaining alert, was quiet for the moment, your fears dimmed.

And the company was the best you could ask for.

Others seemed to share your sentiment; even Spence lasted three whole slices of pizza before he brought up what they worked out in your absence.

“I really think we can narrow it down to the pool of agents.”

Slightly amused but no less intrigued – and relieved that the profile was actually eliminating suspects at last – you took the bait and humoured him.

“How do you figure?”

“Several reasons, actually. Easier access to the bullets, for one. More likely to sneak around and take a photo without being noticed,” Spencer said, having you stiffen slightly at the mention of the bullets. “Of course, we also need to consider Stark’s findings about the hooded woman caught on camera in three different places Steve indicated. We cannot ignore that she had the exactly same body type, same gait and relatively similar height that could easily be only in the range of different height of heels. It’s obvious she was disguising herself not only in terms of physical appearance, but also in other identifiable features – such as body language and gait – so we couldn’t make the connections in more than three places at once. That’s tells us she was trained in art of hiding in plain sight.”

“Fair point, I suppose,” Tony hummed, wrongly assuming Spence was done.

As if.

“In addition, the unsub is clearly highly organized, which again, points to an agent. We can also say with… nearly absolute certainty that there’s only one unsub. A team being into stalking is extremely rare, we’re looking at about 0,7% of all known cases. Had there been an element of violence, I would say we’re dealing with a male offender, because this is statistically more likely. But given the fact that the numbers within stalking are actually the closest to balanced we get, unlike within for example violent crimes – because stalking requires care and patience, meticulousness even – I’d say we’re dealing with a female unsub. Which is only supported by the fact that Captain Rogers is a male individual and according to the survey by Williams Institute from 2011, only 3,4% of USA resident women identify as gay or bisexual, although 11% of all adult Americas admit attraction to the same sex. Even though, of course, we have to take into account the deeply rooted homophobia in some individuals, so the numbers are likely to be slightly higher.”

He said it all in almost one breath, but you were the who one found themselves– and all the Avengers, actually – breathless.

Natasha, Clint, Tony and Steve stared at Reid, rendered speechless at the amount of information and arguments.

You noticed Hotch’s lips twitching, but he hid his proud smile well.

“…Jesus, I forgot how impressive you are,” you muttered under your breath, having Spencer’s face light up a fraction at the praise. “Uhm, it is also true that we have concluded that me and Natasha could be considered worthy thanks to our job. That only supports this notion.”

“Exactly. And I think that there is actually high chance you met this woman before, earned yourself the honour of being worthy, as in you specifically.”

“High chance? What, you don’t have a number for us?” Emily teased the genius good-naturedly, causing Spencer to purse his lips in offence.

“I’m being conversational, for one. For two, there is no history of a case like this, so we lack data,” Spencer defended himself matter-of-factly, which had Emily shake her head and follow up on his thoughts.

“Alright… so suppose this agent is fixated on Steve, it is likely she was on his team or within the recruits he trained and he did something nice for her. It can be anything – a smile, standing up for what’s right and she profited from, reprimanded someone whom she had a bad experience with,” she stated. “So, any time you remember this happening, we should look into the person just to make sure.”

“I agree,” Hotch stepped in, turning to Clint who was still staring on Reid as if he was a creature from another planet – a friendly one, but utterly fascinating. “Within our search, we should focus on agents and recruits who fit these criteria. We definitely need to go through agents’ psychological evaluations. There’s likely to be something, a minor issue in the past, a juvie records the A.I. would be willing look past if the recruit was promising. Can you search the database according to all these criteria or should we call our technical analyst?”

“Please, she wouldn’t get past our security,” Tony scoffed, as if you hadn’t assured him of Garcia’s impeccable skills before.

“Oh trust me, Tony. She would.”

“And someone made it past the security to get the bullets, so I’d tone down the cocky attitude, Tony,” Steve added, eyebrow arched.

“…touché. But I got this.”

You jumped in your seat when two loud claps echoed in the room, the result of the billionaire’s theatrics.

“Alright. Looks like the lunch break is over. Let’s get back to work, kids.”

With those words, he sat into his rolling chair, sliding to the biggest hologram monitor in the room, completely ignorant to the puzzled and amused looks in the room – or of the fact some of you were still nowhere near finishing your lunch.

“I’m sorry about him. It’s the sugar,” Natasha murmured in explanation, taking care to look around the table to wordlessly apologize for Tony’s antics. “Just wait for when he gets his caffeine fix.”

Given the fact that Clint and Tony had started on another database search, the coffee duty fell on Natasha and Steve.

Steve didn’t mind per se; even if he felt left out, he was content to see to it that his teammates – and the BAU team, as much as he didn’t exactly like certain members of it – got their coffee fuel.

And he had no issue with showing off he knew exactly how you took your coffee when you overdid it with lunch.

He reached for the cups, taking one for each, staring with Tony’s order however; the billionaire drank cold coffee so often he wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t steaming hot when they brought it. You, on the other hand, liked your coffee so hot it almost burned your tongue, at least when flavoured cappuccino was not an option.

“So,” Natasha hummed, instantly making Steve stiffen at the fake casual tone. “You look like you’re feeling better. Got it out of your system?”

Oh no you don’t, Steve thought, keeping his tone just as casual.

“What’s that? Oh yeah, physical activity usually helps me. Uhm… Jones was right, as usual.”

Peripherally, he could see Natasha smirk to herself as she set the other coffeemaker to Hotch’s taste. Apparently, he didn’t fool her in the slightest. Dammit. Of course, she had caught up on him acting strange; the again, thinking back at his behaviour, it probably wasn’t all that hard.

“Of course, she was. It helps to punch things you imagine are something else. Or someone else.”

Steve’s heart stumbled in his chest. Fuck.

“…well yeah,” he admitted, glancing at her briefly. Her intense green eyes told him she really was precisely onto what was bothering him, yet, he still tried to play it off. “I mean, we don’t exactly know what the stalker looks like, but-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” she commented dryly, moving Hotch’s cup out of the way, propping her hip onto the counter.

Steve, on the other hand, continued his task stubbornly, trying to remember what coffee Emily wanted.

He really, really didn’t want to talk about this.

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

Natasha scoffed. “Dumb is not good look on you, Steve. Neither is jealous.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I think you do,” she insisted, crossing her arms on her chest as amusement coloured her voice. Christ, she was pig-headed. “It’s tall, nerdy, kinda cute, has the IQ of 187, bright eyes and adorable nickname for your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my-“ Steve started off irritably as he turned to face the redhead, only to be interrupted with an exasperatedly calm voice.

“Then why are you greener than the Hulk? And remind me why isn’t she again?”

“Romanoff-” he muttered in warning, fingers of his left hand gripping the counter.

What the hell was she on about? What was the point of this?

Did she think he wasn’t aware of how seeing you all sweet wit the cute doctor had him want to snap something in half? Preferably something that was tall, nerdy and called you Bean? Please.

“She could be, if you had the balls to tell her the real reason why you call her Sparkles,” Natasha sing-sang, smirking again. “‘cause we both know it’s not that she can be a firecracker when it counts.”

Goddammit, Natasha-

He shot her a murderous glare which didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest, his fingers digging deeper. Gone were the endorphins which flooded his system during the work out, having been only amplified by your intimate proximity and playful nature peeking through. No race of them now.

She just had to remind him of that embarrassing night when she and Clint got him completely smashed.

“I’m never touching Thor’s flask ever again.”

“Can’t unring a bell, Rogers. And I think it’s sweet, that’s a high praise from me…” she remarked, rewarding his deepening frown with her lips twitching.

“Is there a point in there somewhere?” he asked with a sigh, unimpressed with her mockery.

Yes, he wanted you to be more than his friend. Yes, he had revealed the origin of the endearment when intoxicated by Asgardian liquor. Yes, he was jealous of the doctor whom you seemed to get along all too well and who was much more affectionate with you than Steve would have liked.

But Steve liked to think Natasha was his friend and while she wouldn’t pass an opportunity to tease him about you and his pathetically deep feelings, he believed she must have brought it up for a reason.

“Yes, there is, actually,” she confirmed, looking him dead in the eye. “Pull your head out of your ass. Kid’s maybe even smarter than Stark and can help us a lot. Clearly, they were good friends, maybe still are, but it’s obvious to anyone with eyes – despite your and her constant worrying – that she’s in love with you as much as you are in love with her.”

“Natasha-“

His first instinct was to protest. It always was. Because besides inevitably falling for you and being jealous, he was also… cautious.

Even after today’s sparring and all your worry about him, after the sparks he felt between the two of you as you advanced at each other, whenever your or his touch lingered, after hearing the ‘you’re still my favourite person’. It wasn’t the first time everything seemed to be pointing towards the two of you sharing a special bond. But you never said anything and all he was getting, especially when doubts flooded his mind whenever you smiled at someone else – because you were simply a nice and playful person – was mixed signals.

And if he misjudged it? If you didn’t feel the same?

He cherished your presence in his life and your affection more than anything. He couldn’t take the risk; he couldn’t endanger what you two had. Not if telling you how he felt could mean losing your friendship. Or worse, losing you entirely when you’d ask for reinstatement to another unit or agency.

He was sure Agent Hotchner would be more than happy to welcome you back; and so would Spencer Reid.

“You need to get your shit together,” Natasha implored, leaving Steve wonder if she had been talking the whole time he got lost in his thoughts. “She didn’t call her old team she barely talks to these days to see him. She did it because she’s terrified she could lose you.”

Steve knew that, deep down; your care was what had his heart beat fast and made him feel all warm inside.

“So… just stop acting like an ass, Rogers.”

“I’m not-” he tried to protest, only to be cut off again.

“Oh please. You’re hostile to the poor kid. You try to control yourself but you’re failing. She’s gonna notice, Steve,” Natasha warned him, growing more serious. “She might have waved it off and blamed it on you getting restless, but she’ll figure it out and it will blow up into your face. She’s not dumb.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

“No, she’s not,” Steve sighed, returning to his task of being a coffee guy. “Fine. I’ll apologize.”

“Atta boy.”

A few moments later, Steve was the one to give Reid his coffee as they distributed the cups around the room.

Seeing you engaged in a discussion with Emily – though you had paused to give him a sweet thank you, eyes crinkling gratefully when he handed you your fix – Steve seized the opportunity of catching the good doctor by himself by the white board.

It was obvious Reid listened to his quiet voice as he said he was sorry if he was being a little rude earlier, but he appeared dismissive about the matter.

“It’s no big deal. We had cases where one of us was in the opposite role than we’re used to. It’s never pleasant. I understand,” he shrugged it off, waiting for Steve to set the cup down and only then brought it to his lips. “Thanks for this.”

If Reid saw beyond Steve’s words, realizing his reasons were a bit different from what the doctor voiced, he didn’t say.

And somehow, that made Steve understand why he would be one of your closest friends.

When he caught your smile across the room, delighted to see him exchange a few words with the genius, he couldn’t say an apology had ever felt better than this.

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Is this mainly a idiots friends-to-lovers fic with a minor criminal subplot? Yes, yes I suppose it is🤷‍♀️🤭

Thank you for reading and your reactions💕

Also, more and more theories are popping up, so I repeat my little plea. Please, respect it.

P.S. DISCLAIMER concerning Reid’s statisics speech! I’d like to point it out before someone yells at me that I borrowed numbers from the Williams Institute of UCLA about people admitting to identify as gay or bi. That is not to imply that people inside or outside the LBGT+ community are more or less likely to commit a crime than the other group and I mean no disrespect to either of the groups. Thank you.

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #former bau agent reader #bau agent reader #mcu x criminal minds #criminal minds x mcu #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #spencer reid #love on the brain #anika ann

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marcmarcmomarc · 4 months

Text

The Owl House: The New Year’s Special

A post-epilogue special starring Luz and her two families celebrating the new year between the two realms.

Cast:

Dee Bradley Baker as Princess

Eric Bauza as Gilbert Park & Faust

Bob Bergen as Barcus

J.B. Blanc as Professor Hermonculus

Steve Blum as Salty

Benjamin Bratt as Manny Noceda

Kimberly Brooks as Skara & Eileen

Isaac Ryan Brown as Gus Porter

Bruce Carey as Mason

Matt Chapman as Steve Tholomule & Harvey Park

Parvesh Cheena as Tibblet-Tibblie Grimm Hammer III “Tibbles”

Noshir Dalal as Adrian Graye Vernworth

Felicia Day as Bria

Ariana DeBose as Tía Valentina Noceda

Elijah DeJesus @not-so-average-fangirl as Prima Gabi Noceda

Grey DeLisle as Masha, Katya, Cat, Usurper, & Bonesborough Brawl Security Guard

Jorge Diaz as Matt Tholomule

Michaela Dietz as Vee

Nik Dodani as Gavin

Deb Doetzer as Gwendolyn Clawthorne

Jason Douglas as Osran

Tati Gabrielle as Willow Park

Eileen Galindo as Flora D’splora

Peter Gallagher as Dell Clawthorne

Noah Galvin as Jerbo

Kimiko Glenn as Long-Haired Bat Kid

Elizabeth Grullon as Camila Noceda

Harvey Guillén as Angmar

Arin Hanson as Eye-Eating Monster, Snaggleback, & Papa Titan

Alex Hirsch as King Clawthorne & Hooty

Holly @hollowtones as Mohawk Bat Kid

Chris Houghton as Bill

Oscar Isaac as Tío Emilio Noceda

Keston John as Darius Deamonne

Cissy Jones as Lilith Clawthorne

Mela Lee as Kikimora

Jason Liebrecht as Vitimir

Erica Lindbeck as Emira Blight

Kevin Locarro as Braxas

Rachael MacFarlane as Odalia Blight

Ally Maki as Viney

Wendie Malick as Eda Clawthorne

Shannon McKain as Morton

Mosco Moon as Olive (Gabi’s Girlfriend)

Rita Moreno as Abuela Luna Noceda

Ryan O’Flanagan as Edric Blight

Johnny Ortiz as Tío Mateo Noceda

Penny Parker @snapscube as Bucket Hat Bat Kid

Jim Pirri as Alador Blight

Anairis Quiñones as Azura

Matthew Rhys as Philip Wittebane/Emperor Belos

Kevin Michael Richardson as Tarak, Bonesborough Brawl Commentator, & Tom

Eden Riegel as Boscha, Amelia, Bo, & Abominations

Bumper Robinson as Hieronymus Bump

Zeno Robinson as Hunter, Derwin, & Male Camp Friend

Sarah-Nicole Robles as Luz Noceda

Avi Roque as Raine Whispers

Isabella Rosselini as Bat Queen

Roger Craig Smith as Jacob Hopkins & Warden Wrath

Hailee Steinfeld as Female Camp Friend

April Stewart as Greater Basilisk

Christopher Swindle as Graveyard Keeper

Fred Tatasciore as Malphas

Jen Taylor as Hettie Cutburn

Dana Terrace as Tinella Nosa & Severine

Morgan Terry as Hecate

Kari Wahlgren as Amber, Eberwolf, Villainous Lucy, & Barista

Mae Whitman as Amity Blight

Gary Anthony Williams as Perry Porter

Debra Wilson as Terra Snapdragon

Fryda Wolff as The Collector

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freddieraimbow74 · 24 days

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Happy Birthday to Debbie Leng 🎂🎉🥂

She’s the mother of three children with Roger Taylor (Rufus Tiger, Tigerlily and Lola Daisy Mae)

“IF ANYONE can raise the temperature of Mercury, it is model Debbie Leng. (She was Roger Taylor’s girlfriend at the time)

⠀

She stars with lead singer Freddie Mercury in the video for Queen’s new single ‘Breakthru’, released today. ⠀

⠀

Debbie, who appeared in TV commercial for Cadbury’s Flake, is the girlfriend of Queen drummer Roger Taylor. He did not want her to appear in the £500,000 video, shot at the Nene Valley Railway shire, in case there were accusations of favouritism.

But Freddie insisted she was the only choice. 'I really wanted to do a sexy video and who better to do it with than Debbie Leng’, he said.”

(See the article in the comments)

A little bio on Debbie ❣️

Deborah Jayne Leng Burguess was born on April 6th 1963 in Newton Ferrers, Devon, England. She’s an international model and actress. She graduated in Laucheston College in 1980. Leng represented the UK in the 1986 edition of Supermodel of the World. She created a sensation in 1987 when she became the iconic Cadbury's Flake girl. But she was axed three years later for being "too sexy". Then she appeared on "Indians and Cowboys" (1987, she fell in love with Roger Taylor during this time!) and "Breakthru" (1988) video clips from The Cross and Queen.

Debbie has worked with Laraine Ashton throughout the 80's and 90's. She was the face of Joop, Slix and Lejaby fashion campaigns and starred in TV and film productions like "Bullseye!" (1990) along Michael Caine. Debbie and Roger Taylor lived together for 15 years and had three children, Rufus Tiger (born on 8th March 1991), Tiger Lily (born on 10th October 1994) and Lola Daisy May (born on 9th April 2000) before splitting in 2004.

Deborah Leng returned to her modeling career, singing with leading agency Models1 at 45. On March 2011 Debbie and her friend Fabiola de Freitas launched their own designed clothes Fab Deb Designs. Since fall 2010 she is dating poet and TV presenter Charley Ottley. Through her years of involvement in the world of fashion, music and cinema she has become friends with numerous high profile women and has built up a fantastic client base.

Wishing You All The Very Best Debbie 🥂🎉

#freddie mercury #queen band #brian may #roger taylor #jhon deacon #musique #music #queen #original character #j’adore #Spotify

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