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Aw, thanks.  Sorry this is so late and a little off prompt, but here you go.  

Powers/No Powers


“Come help me with the kids,” Laura tells Bucky over the phone when he worriedly asks her what the hell he’s going to do tomorrow night for Halloween.  He’s barely made peace with the doorbell when the UPS man brings them packages, and that only happens once a week or so.  He knows he won’t be able to bear sitting in the townhouse and listening to the bell ring over and over again.

“But shouldn’t I help Steve?” Bucky asks tentatively.  

Steve shakes his head violently from across the table, then quickly returns his attention to his newspaper Sudoku and pretending he isn’t eavesdropping.

“He’ll be fine to hand out the candy on his own,” Laura assures him.  “He’s good with gloves and masks.  Tell him tongs are a good option, too.”

“Oh.”  Bucky momentarily tucks the phone against his chest and looks to Steve.  “She says to use tongs.”

“Huh.”  Steve cocks his head and nods.  “Didn’t think of that.  Sounds good, tough.  Very safe.”

“Anyway, James,” Laura continues.  Bucky quickly puts the phone back to his ear.  “I have two little ones, and there’s only one of me.  I’m driving them into town for trick-or-treating, so they don’t know where they’re going.  And poor Lila’s a black cat this year, so she’ll need extra help crossing the street…”

“Ok…”  Bucky looks up to Steve again, who this time is nodding.  “Uh, sure.  Should I come to your house, or…?”  He’s trying to be polite, even though he has no way to get there on his own.

“How about Clint picks you up on his way home from work?”


“It’s settled.”  Bucky can practically hear Laura’s smile.  

When the next morning dawns, Bucky wakes with an aching head and throbbing sinuses.  He buries his face into Steve’s shoulder, burrowing against him as if that might take away some of the discomfort.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs sleepily.  He wraps his arms around Bucky, then stretches his neck to peer at the clock on the bedside table.  “Five minute cuddle.  Then I have to get ready for work.”


“You got some words in there?”

Bucky shakes head into Steve’s collarbone, which hurts.

Steve seems to infer something isn’t quite right.  He cups the back of Bucky’s neck with a soft and relatively cooler hand.  “You’re kind of toasty.  Feeling alright?”


“You don’t have to go tonight if you’re not,”Steve says.  “We could put a sign on the door, stay in–”

“’M fine,” Bucky whispers, his voice further muffled by Steve’s t-shirt.

“I’m so sorry I got pulled for weekend duty.  Especially today.”

“Not your fault.”  Bucky lifts his head.  “I’m really ok.”

No matter what he tells Steve, though, Bucky knows he really isn’t alright.  After Steve leaves, he stays in bed until past noon, and not because he’s sad or lonely.  

When he finally throws on jeans and a sweatshirt and heads downstairs, his head’s aching fit to burst, and. his stomach isn’t feeling much better.  He considers calling Laura, telling her he doesn’t feel well, and asking for a reprieve.  Maybe asking her to come here to help him instead.  

But no, he thinks.  He agreed.  He promised.  He has to follow through.

A double dose of Dayquil is Bucky’s friend, then he decides to doze on the couch for a while.  It turns out he sleeps until it’s time to leave for the farm, for his phone goes off and nearly scares him out of his skin.

“Hey, I’m outside,” Clint says once Bucky answers.

“Steve’s not home yet,” Bucky tells him, confused.

“Yeah, well.  He follows the speed limit.”  Clint laughs.

Bucky gathers up his jacket and heads out to the Rav-4 stalling in the driveway.  “Hey,” he murmurs as he climbs inside.  “Should I… let Steve know?”

“Already texted him,” Clint says with a grin.  “We got you taken care of.”

Bucky sits quietly with his arm around his stomach for the entirety of the drive to Paris.  He supposes he’s lucky that Clint doesn’t look at him too closely, but at the same time, he wishes his friend would drive a little more smoothly.  He has to breathe deeply and gulp a few times as Clint skids to a stop in front of red lights.

“Here we are,” Clint finally says, turning up the bumpy driveway.  “Home sweet home-away-from-home.”

“Mm,” Bucky agrees, though neither his head nor his stomach is taking the transition from tightly packed dirt road to loose gravel very well.

Bucky throws his door open as soon as they stop, but manages to swallow down the thick saliva pooling on the back of his tongue.  He follows Clint up to the front door and waits patiently as he unlocks it.

“Kids might be a little excited,” Clint warns.

He’s right.  No sooner does the door open than Bucky’s assaulted by a miniature Power Ranger and a waist-high black cat.  “Uncle Bucky!” Lila shouts, throwing her arms around his leg.

“Um.  Hi,” Bucky says, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he feels.

Laura steps out of the kitchen and beams at him.  “Hey, James.”  She carefully peels her daughter away and directs her the television, where the Halloween episode of Charlie Brown is quietly playing.  “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Bucky manages to choke out.  His mouth is full of spit again, and this time, he isn’t sure if his body will let him send it back down his throat.  He dips his chin as the taste of bile begins to creep over his back teeth.

“Are you ok?”  A wrinkle of concern appears between Laura’s eyebrows.  “You look–”

“I think–” Bucky starts.  “I might– need to–”  He cups his hand over his mouth.  

Laura quickly takes him by the elbow and leads him into the hall bathroom.  The toilet’s too far away, so Bucky leans over the sink and lets mucousy strings of sick slide up from his stomach, tinted orange from the dregs of liquid medicine.

He coughs and sputters, and Laura hands him a washcloth from a basket on the back of the toilet.  Bucky scrubs it over his lips, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Clint didn’t traumatize you with his driving, did he?” Laura asks.

Bucky shakes his head.  “I haven’t felt very good all day.”

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” Laura says, reaching up to feel his forehead.  “I can manage trick-or-treating.  I just really wanted you to come.”

“And I really wanted to come.”

Laura smiles.  “Well, you’re here now.  I’ll get you set up in the guest room to stay the night.”

“What about the kids?” Bucky asks.  “It’s their night.  I don’t want to ruin it.”

“They love it when you come, no matter how you’re feeling,” Laura answers.  “I’ll take them out for a while, and Clint will stay with you.  Then once the kids are in bed we’ll trade off.  Ok?”

“Don’t want to be a burden…”  Bucky suppresses a hiccup.

“You’re never a burden.”  Laura gives his hand a squeeze.  “You’re family.”

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This is just a tiny sneak peek into a drawing I did, back in 2015, but still didn’t post. But I will, fingers crossed. 

I just posted my first story in 5 years and this is the cover image.  
Needless to say, I’m terrified no one remembers me!  
So, please, take a look if you’re interested! I really appreciate any feedback!  💕

Selfless Love (Fanfiction)   or Selfless Love (AO3) : After 15 years, the Rogers family faced the emotional task of saying goodbye to their beloved friend Sneg. WARNING: Pet death. Lots of tears.

From the Animated movie: Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow (2008), James Rogers, son of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. 

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Romanogers Forever!  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

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read it on the AO3 at

by Anonymous

Natasha has a Halloween surprise for Steve.

Words: 433, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at
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31. Today’s special: Torture

“Oh my god,” Tony blurted when he entered the room behind the thick metal doors. It took him some time and FRIDAYs help to get in but when it opened the first thing he noticed was the smell. It smelled like blood, urine… and worse substances.

The room itself was white tiled from floor to ceiling and it looked more like a torture chamber than a laboratory even if the shield beside the door claimed it was one. 

“What’s wrong, Tony?” Steve asked. 

“I found some sort of… lab,” he said. “But if this is a lab… I don’t know… HYDRA and me have definitely different ideas of what a laboratory should look like.” 

“What did they do there?” Nat wanted to know and Tony shuddered if he thought about those experiments. 

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But over there is an office, maybe I’ll find some data there.” 

“All right,” Steve said. “Let us know what you find, we’ll continue searching this place.” 

Tony went to the office, opened the door and saw a few computers. They were all shut off but it shouldn’t be a problem for him. He stepped out of his suit, told FRIDAY to check his surroundings and started one of the computers. The technology was old and easy to get in for a genius. Thankfully they had managed to take out all the HYDRA goons before they could delete their data. 

Tony searched the files and then found something that sounded interesting. He clicked on it and saw lots of video files. 

“Well, let’s see what we have here,” he muttered to himself and started one of the videos. A camera filmed someone who was tied to one of the metal tables. It was a man and he wore only whte boxers. He couldn’t see his face because the camera only filmed his body. His arms and legs were tied to the sides of the table with white leather straps and lots and lots of needles stuck in his body. Someone switched on a machine and the prisoner convulsed on the table, tried to get off of it but the ties held him in place. He struggled and screamed and somehow he sounded familiar but Tony couldn’t put his finger on it because the screams were muffled. 

The machine stopped and a doctor came and checked the prisoner before they started it again. The doctor talked in Russian. Tony had started to learn the language some time ago but he wasn’t advanced enough to understand what he said.

They started the machine once again and the prisoner screamed and tried to get free. And then he saw it.

“Oh shit!” he blurted. 

“Tony?” Nat asked.

“It’s Clint!” he almost yelled. “The prisoner… it’s Clint. They have Clint!”

“Clint?” Steve asked. “But Sitwell told us he would lie low somewhere…” 

“Believe me! It’s Clint. I would recognize that scar beside his belly button everywhere! It’s definitely Clint!” 

“Captain America to everyone! New mission parameters! Search for Agent Barton, I repeat, search for Agent Barton! Understood?” 

“Agent Barton?” Coulson asked and sounded worried. “But he’s…” 

“Here, maybe,” Tony said. “I’ve seen him on a video.” 

He sat down again and opened the other videos as well but every single one of them seemed worse than the one before. They had experimented on Clint in the worst way possible and Tony had no idea what they even tried to find out. 

“Tony,” Sam said a few moments later. “He’s here! I have him!” 

“Where are you?” Tony asked and hurried back into his suit. 

“Basement,” Sam said and Tony flew through the narrow corridors, He almost collided with walls a few times but it was more important to get to Clint. And then he saw him. 

He was still bound to a metal table, still attached to all kinds of tubes and needles and out cold.

“Is he alive?” Tony breathed and Steve nodded. 

“We’re waiting for Bruce to remove all the stuff,” he said. Tony went out of his suit again and brushed the hair out of Clint’s face. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “We’re here, babe. We have you.” 

“It was Sitwell,” Coulson said over the comms. “He’s HYDRA, remember? It was him who told me Clint would lie low after HYDRA tried to capture him. I believed him.” 

“Oh god, it was all set up,” Steve said. “He’s… he’s faked it to capture Clint.” 

“But why?” Tony wanted to know and they both looked at each other. 

“That’s what we have to find out,” Steve said. “But for now, we should bring him home.” 

“True,” Tony nodded and caressed Clint’s arm. “Let’s bring him home.”

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I had a pretty bad week in regards to anxiety, I feel like a failure. I was invited to a friends Halloween party but the thought of going made me sick. I hate feeling like this.

This photo I took at sunset makes me feel a little better though. Makes me feel calm.

Sometimes I feel like starting a YouTube channel where I help people with these issues, especially because I’m studying psychology. Doing that type of stuff really helps me, I don’t feel alone and having that connection is nice. I dunno it’s just a thought :)

P.S - I live in Australia and our safety regulations allow for that type of gathering :) stay safe my loves 🖤✨

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Day 30- Festival

Steve opened a cupboard and pulled out two plaid fleece blankets and draped them on his arm. He walked down the stairs and met Natasha in the kitchen. She was placing some snacks Inside a picnic basket. “Got anything good in there?”, Steve peered into the basket, “Mmm”, he reached in for a bag of m&m’s. He popped a few in his mouth. He spotted a couple of sandwiches, and six pack of beers, plus some candy bars. “Looks like you thought of everything,” He kissed her cheek as he passed by.

“Don’t I always?” Natasha winked at him, and grabbed a hoodie off the chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They arrived as the late afternoon sun continued its descent. People were sitting on blankets, eating snacks and chatting. They found a spot to set up. Steve unfolded one of the blankets and lay it out on the grass near a tree, and Natasha set their picnic basket down on top of it. Steve dropped down beside her, leaning back on his elbow, taking in their surroundings. People milled about, carrying bags of kettle corn, sticks of cotton candy, and candy apples.

Steve inhaled the salty sweetness. “I’ve got to get some of that.” He hopped up and turned toward Natasha. “Can I get you anything, Nat?”

“Depends. Are you gonna share that kettle corn?”

“Considering those bags are longer than my arm, I think we can share.” Steve smiled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Rogers.” Natasha winked.

Steve met her eye and let a beat pass, before turning away and saying, “I guess I’d better get two.”

“Smart man.”

The sky grew dark by the time came back with the two bags of kettle corn. Natasha passed him a beer and they cracked them open. Steve held out his bottle towards Natasha, and she clinked them together. “Cheers”, Steve tilted his bottle toward Natasha.

“Cheers.” Natasha took a swig, and then turned her attention to the glowing screen.

Creature from the Black Lagoon

Natasha settled down on the blanket, leaning against Steve’s side, and he immediately wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her close. “Scared, Steve?”

Steve smiled, still facing the screen. “Terrified. You better stay close.” He eyed her sideways.

The pair relaxed into each other and focused in on the movies before them. Steve absentmindedly drew small circles on Natasha’s side, and Natasha lay her head against Steve’s chest.

The last film’s end credits ran, and Natasha sat up slightly, stretching her arms towards the sky.

“Natasha” Steve whispered.

“Mmm”, Natasha hummed, and turned her head toward him. His lips were a breath away from hers. He closed the distance between them.

When they broke apart, Steve looked around them. People were packing up and heading out. “I guess it’s over.” A hint of disappointment evident in his tone.

“I’d say it’s just beginning.” Natasha slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly.

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I have currently peaked as a mom and/or unlocked some kind of achievement for simultaneously doing all of the following:

- trying to scroll Tumblr as one does during a middle of the night feeding.

- Choking on trail mix (need to eat 24/7 when breastfeeding/pumping)

- Pumping while my wife feeds the baby

- Answering my 3 year oldest very important questions on Captain America because he woke up, refused to sleep alone, and needed to sit with us. (“Why does Captain America have a motorcycle now?” “He always has.” “So does Batman.” “Yes, Batman has a motorcycle too, but Captain America is cooler.” “But Batman has a cooler car.” “Sure, but Captain America is cooler.”)

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