moved.

each of them have their own traumas, and he’s the last person to inquire about them. keep it inside, to themselves, is the approach to life. bury it deep, lock and throw the key out. it’s easier, that way, to avoid it.  ( god, he knows it’s not. )  he’ll fall apart some day, melt under the pressure of the own weight he’s accumulated on his shoulders. whether or not that day is soon or not is to be determined.  “ that, i’m not surprised by, ”  he mumbles, head cast down and glancing at the floor in quiet and active thought. exercise has always worked as a way for him to stop thinking, so maybe, just maybe, this’ll work for him.  “ alright—— alright, ”  he easily relents, standing up, pulling at the collars of his leather jacket.  “ would you punch me in the face, though? ”

bold what applies ( or is associated ) with your muse. repost, don’t reblog !

i.   DRACULA.   cold to the touch.  flickering candles.  cold breath upon your neck.  billowing white gowns.  midnight strolls.  pearl trimmed bands.  indulging in your deepest desires.  the fall from grace.  the fear of outsiders.  bloodstained sheets.  dark imaginations.  something lurking in the shadows.  the urge to run away.  glowing eyes in the darkness.  the scent of garlic.  preying on the weak.  the power to both bring and take life.

ii.   THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY.   old bookshelves.  kisses on the hand.   devotion to the finer things in life.  prizing youth and beauty above all.  paying the ultimate price.  the pursuit of pleasure.  blood red sins painted over in white snow.  a drug - induced stupor.  breaking the heart of the one you love.  losing what’s left of your humanity.

iii.   FRANKENSTEIN.   frantic sketches.  the stench of something rotten.  unorthodox beliefs.  a scream from the woods.  candles burning out.  dangerous knowledge.  contemplating existence.  the crunch of leaves.  the chill of winter in your bones.  dark ambitions.  prometheus reborn.  the contrast between life and death.

iv.   THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO.   false accusations.  taking justice into your own hands.  divine justice.  elaborate schemes.  playing upon others’ weaknesses.  the solitude of the ocean.  an ever-changing identity.  dissatisfaction in your life.  an alienation from humanity.  escaping from prison.

january 28th

                steve ,

if there’s one thing i’ve learned it’s that love — in any kind — is rarely fair .  my mom was the strongest person i knew and she died of an inoperable brain tumor .  i’ve had countless boyfriends leave ,  friends move on ,  people die .  none of it is fair ,  but it all just depends on what you want .  if the other person is worth it .  i doubt you’d ask a single one of your friends’ spouses or partners and hear them say it’s not .  there’s a lot of things that would be easier .  i mean ,  staying with someone you’re not happy with would be easier .  but that’s not love . that’s settling .  no one deserves that .  and i’m a firm believer in truly  epic  loves .  the kind that people would go through heaven and hell for .  the kind that movies are made about .  everyone deserves that ,  hardly anyone would say it’s easy . 

so you’re the squad dad ,  huh ?  that’s kind’ve a charming image .  i bet all the girls go wild for it .  but then again ,  that’s kinda what captains do ,  right ?  you’ll have to forgive me ,  the closest thing to the military that i know is police politics .  my mom was a cop  ( did i mention that ? )  obviously it’s not the same ,  but i’ve never seen a group more tightly knit than my mom’s deputies .  

is there seriously a difference between  ‘ new yorkers ‘   and  ‘ brooklyn people ‘  i mean ?  it’s the same city ,  right ?  same state ?  same general area ?  really i think this city is a world in itself .  it’s fascinating .  i go down the same streets every day and they’re never the same .  for a girl that grew up in a small town that never changed ,  it’s the best .  —- i’d kill for home cooking .  i mean i don’t know bucky ,  or his mom ,  but do you think she’d let me bum a meal off of her ?  i can’t cook to save my life and i’m single handedly keeping my bodega in business because i buy all their  ‘ ready to make ‘  meals .  

you’ll come back .  and when you do ,  please show me around .  in the meantime ,  i’m sending you a map ,  a guidebook ,  and a sharpie .  please give me  ALL  of the recommendations .  i want to know this city like the back of my hand .  the ins and outs ,  the quirky spots ,  the best place to get hot cocoa in the winter .  

don’t give up on hope ,  steve rogers .  i don’t know what it’s like over there ,  i know it can’t be good .  but you’re strong .  your men are strong .  and if it helps ,  you can always imagine me back here .  in my horribly over-priced apartment ,  burning pre-made bodega meals ,  and wishing you the best .

                                            be safe ,

                                                         caroline

february  10th,

                                                                                dear  caroline,

         you’re  right,   i  guess  you  are.   i  mean,   i’ve  met  a  lot  of  those  women  you  speak  of  and  yes,   they  do  seem  to  be  happy.   even  if  it’s  hard,   even  it’s  tough  sometimes.   i  just,   i  mean,   i  guess  that  i  can’t  just  see  myself  putting  someone  through  that  shit,   especially  when  you  love  that  person,   you  know  ?   but  i  guess  i’m  kind  of  a  hypocrite  since  i  went  into  the  army  when  my  mother  was  still  alive.   but  it  was  more  about  giving  the  others,   helping  others  like  she  taught  me  to  do  than  gaining  stuff  for  me.   honestly,   you  seem  like  the  kind  of  girl  who  deserves  that,   the  epic  love,   the  guy  who’ll  be  great  for  you  and  that  will  love  you  whole.

         dad’s  squad  ?   never  head  that  one  before  but  it  does  fit.   but  yeah,   i’m  in  charge  of  a  small  group,   have  to  make  sure  they’re  as  okay  as  they  can  be,   have  to  make  sure  they  all  get  to  go  home  in  one  piece.   i  also  have  to  make  sure  they  don’t  get  into  too  much  trouble  which  is  not  the  easiest  take,   let  me  tell  you.   but  i  feel  at  home  with  them,   build  myself  a  family,   you  know  ?   it  must  have  been  nice,   knowing  you  had  your  mother’s  squad  to  count  on  when  you  needed  it.   but  we  do  the  same  thing  i  guess,   taking  care  of  the  ones  we  give  orders  too,   making  sure  we  help  them  be  in  the  safest  situation possible.

         honestly  ?   yes  there  is  a  big  difference.   brooklyn  is  its  own  thing,   different  people  who  give  soul  to  that  borough,   it  makes  it  a  city  in  itself,   there’s  nothing  like  brooklyn  in  the  entire  world.   not  that  i’ve  been  everywhere  but  you  know.   i  mean,   i  guess  there’s  something  to  be  said  about  your  hometown,   about  the  streets  you  walked  on  as  a  kid,   people  who  were  there  for  all  your  childhood.   i  don’t  know,   might  be  just  me,   i  guess.   but  yeah,   next  time  i  talk  to  her  or  buck  talks  to  her,   i’ll  ask  her.   she’ll  probably  say  yes  but  she’ll  be  a  bit  noisy,   nothing  next  to  his  sisters  though.   so  this  is  a  warning,   you  will  be  put  to  the  question.

         i  did  think  of  you  once  or  twice  when  things  were  going  to  shit,   i  didn’t  want  your  letters  going  unanswered,   i  didn’t  want  to  just  disappear  from  your  life  without  knowing  why  or  what  happened,   you  know  ?   anyway,   no  sad  thought  when  writing  to  you,   at  least  i  try   --   you’re  not  writing  to  read  about  shit  like  that.   but  to  more  serious  matters,   i  have  questions.   when  is  your  birthday  ?   what’s  your  favorite  flower  ?   if  you  had  one  book  to  recommend,   what  would  it  be  ? i  hope  whatever  i  wrote  and  circle  on  that  map  will  help  you,   it’s  weird  thinking  you’ll  be  walking  where  i  grew  up,   you’ll  be  walking  where  i  walked,   where  i’ll  walk.

                             i  wish  you  the  utter  best  and  good  meals,

          her arm stays secured around his ,  hand squeezing his as they turn ,  as he introduces each man .  they all nod at the sound of their name ,  giving her a smile that’s both polite and curious .  she feels a bit of relief at the sound of his voice .  as hard as it seems for him to talk ,  he manages the words .  and something tells her that’s a lot more than he would have been capable if circumstances had been different .  she knows she plays a small role ,  that all of this still would have come to pass even if she’d never met him ,  but she is here .  and for that amount of time that he allows her to be at his side ,  she’ll do everything in her power to make sure that she makes this as bearable as she can for him .  even if it means turning on every last ounce of  caroline forbes distraction .  so that’s what she does . 

❝  noah .  wilson .  riley .  and duggan ,  ❞     she smiles,  nose crinkling slightly as she looks towards the middle man ,  duggan .    ❝  who the hell names a kid duggan ?  ❞     it earns a laugh ,  and she could exhale in relief at the sound of it .  their postures seem to ease ,  a few spare a few glances towards steve ,  as if they’re hardwired to wait for an order ,  or a comment ,  or permission .  the loyalty there is astounding .  she’s never seen anything like it .  it’s a side to him she never could have imagined .      ❝  well i was gonna drag steve to get some fries ,  ❞     she glances up at him ,  giving his arm a small squeeze as she watches his features ,  hoping he doesn’t hate the idea .    ❝  if you guys want to join ,  you’re more than welcome .  my treat .  ❞     they seem to glance at once another for a few moments ,  silently communicating before the tallest of them pipes up  —-  he lapses into an easy smile ,  the kind that a million women have probably swooned over .  the resident  ladies man  of the group ,  she’s guessing .  there had to be one .  best to identify them early enough .  he says something about about never turning down free food ,  gives her a typical once over which she greets with a raised eyebrow and a small snort of amusement .  it’s harmless ,  she knows .  one of those things that guys do to distract from the pain they feel .  thankfully for all of them ,  she’s good at distraction .      ❝  great !  then we get fries .  ❞     looking up ,  she smiles at steve ,  weight shifting on to her tip toes so that she can kiss his cheek .  ❝  if you need an out ,  i’ve got you . ❞     she murmurs against his jaw before dropping back down ,  tucking a curl behind her ear before gently leading the way back to the cars .    

                  blue  orbs  are  attentive  upon  her  face,   heart  softening  as  she  sees  that  smile  of  hers,   that  crinkling  of  her  nose   &&   he  could  cry  at  the  warmth  of  her  arm  against  his,   he  could  cry  because  she’s  there.      steady  at  his  side  when  he’s  on  the  edge  of  the  sword,   ready  to  fall  apart.   but  she’s  there,   steady,   the  strength  that  keeps  him  up,   he  can’t  believe  his  luck.   should  you  pry  him  open,   break  his  ribcage   &&   dig  your  fingers  in  his  myocardium,   you  would  feel  it  slow,   unsteady,   you  would  feel  under  your  fingertips  every  crack,   every  fissure.   should  you  pry  open  his  chest,   you  would  feel  her  warmth  upon  his  heart,   you  would  feel  her  all  around,   slowly  but  surely  mending  what  can  be,   slightly  dulling  the  pain  that  can’t  be  cured.   lips  are  kept  close,   watching  the  wonder  that  is  caroline  forbes  do  that  thing  she  does  every  time  she  feels  like  he’s  too  overwhelmed  to  be  there.   &&   steve  marvels,   marvels  at  the  sharp  intuition  she  possesses,   at  the  empathy  of  her  heart,   the  kindness  of  her  soul.   words  out  of  her  mouth  are  made  to  distract,   to  bring  smiles   &&   laughters  out.   breathing  gets  easier,   cerulean  hues  taking  in  those  miracles  she  does  with  just  a  few  words,   by  being  just  who  she  is.   there’s  warmth  in  his  eyes  as  he  looks  at  her,   hues  down  as  they  look  at  the  sun,   his  sun  at  least.   steve  wishes  he  could  find  the  word  to  express  how  grateful  he  is,   how  much  he  cares  for  her,   how  much  she  means  to  him.   but  every  time  he  tries  to  do  it,   he  chokes  on  the  words  for  he  knows  his  worth,   for  he  knows  hers   &&   he’s  been  quick  to  realize  that  she  will  not  stay.   not  forever.

There once was a time when he was her anchor  —  everything about him so DIFFERENT in all those delicious ways she never thought she could enjoy.   He grounded her when she needed it,  his virtue slowly seeped through into her life, and even if she will never be truly good  (there’s too much ANGER in her,  too much pain)  he was the one who laid foundations in this journey that was far from over.   He was her anchor once,  during that time when Natasha didn’t even know who she was ; he held her in one place,  he made her stop.   But that was a long long time ago,  she laid her own paths since then,  even if her life is is not quite a moral dichotomy of everything she once was and everything she is now,  there’s surely more good in her now than there was before,  and there’s only one man to blame.   HIM.   Him who returns,  him who she orbits oh so very often;  even if their views are still somewhat different,  even if there are things they will never stop disagreeing on,  their lives are now so intimately intertwined that it’s hard to say where one ends and another begins.   Maybe that’s the beauty of their journey  —  in the place that favors no teams,  they managed to forge one,  be it because of their stubbornness,  or because,  in a way,  it was meant to be.

That’s why she doesn’t fight his grip,  not when she feels that ground slipping from under her feet.   Because it was natural,  because it was meant to be,  because her body knows not to fight him anymore,  sometimes it allows her to give in.   And so she does  —  almost proud  —  because when she falls it doesn’t feel like a defeat,  it feels like a win.   To see him shed that shell,  even if just for a moment,  to see him show emotion that spreads wider than what she’s seen before.   Natasha’s good at reading people,  so the way he looks at her with that je ne sais quoi in his gaze makes Natasha wonder whether,  if she took this leap before,  it would be just the same.   Or maybe they had to let the stream take them there,  right to this moment,  this moment where she can feel his breath on her skin and he can feel loose strands of hair tickling his chin as she leans ever closer.   Silent stretches,  peppered with broken breaths both of them draw and she finds herself unable to pull away.   Usually when she looks someone straight in the eye,  there’s nothing but lies coming out,  but this time?   This time she looks at him with honesty,  waiting for the next moment to unravel,  wondering whether she,  the one who stands on the precipice,  will finally tip over and fall.     “Are you tired yet,  Steve?”     His pull is magnetic,  this whole moment is,  and she leans even closer,  body pressed against body,  lips only mere inches away from his.   But she will never lean close enough to claim them,  only because she doesn’t know of the devils dancing in his head.   This life  —  this passion  —  will he ever be okay with that?     “Because I could do this all day.”

                    he’s  an  open  book,   he’s  the  one  who  can’t  lie,   he’s  the  one  who  only  speaks  true.   but  he  doesn’t  believe  that  he  is  that  open,   he  doesn’t  believe  that  all  his  emotions  are  on  display  for  all  to  see,   not  anymore  anyway.   he’s  learnt  his  lesson  the  hard  way.   he  hides  now,   his  emotions,   he  hides  steve  rogers,   push  that  hopeful  kid  away,   bury  him  under  layers   &&   layers.   he  pushed  her  toward  the  light,   showed  her  the  way  a  long  time  ago  but  he  took  cue  from  her  too,   he’s  tried  at  least.   he’s  tried  to  be  stronger,   he’s  tried  to  be  a  man  of  that  century,   one  that  use  deceit   &&   half  --  truth  like  weapons.   but  he’s  not  like  that,   he  tried   &&   he  failed,   choosing  to  stick  by  what  he  believes  in   ;;   courage,   honesty.   and  that’s  how  he’s  found  himself  at  her  side,   fitting  by  her  side,   finding  peace  at  her  side,   something  that  gently  quells  that  deep  feeling  of  nostalgia  he  always  feels.   &&   that  feeling  still  exists,   still  blossoms  in  his  veins  but  it’s  softer  now,   it  doesn’t  hurt  like  it  used  to,   it  doesn’t  break  him  in  pieces  every  day.   his  blue  hues  find  the  green  of  hers,   there’s  so  many  words  he  has  for  her,   so  many  things  he  wished  to  tell  her,   so  many  things  he  wished  she  knew.   but  he’s  never  been  good  with  girls,   women,   never  been  good  at  all.   he  wasn’t  helped  by  the  pain  of  a  broken  heart,   wasn’t  helped  by  his  situation,   by  the  fact  that  everything,   the  bare  minimum  really,   that  he  knew  was  outdated  now.   useless.   steve  is  out  of  his  depth  most  days  but  with  a  woman  like  natasha  ?   he  feels  like  an  idiot,   feels  like  he’ll  only  ever  be  an  idiot  next  to  her.

𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬     𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝     .     her  heel  broke  at  the  worst  time  and  she  had  landed  on  her  butt  on  her  way  to  the  lab     .     there’s  a  mark  of  dirt  on  her  skirt  and  for  some  reason  she’s  more  annoyed  at  that  than  the  throbbing  in  her  ankle     .     eyes  glance  over  to  steve     ,     a  sour  expression  on  her  lips  as  she  grabs  his  hand  to  stand  up     .     ❛     honestly     ?     no     .     my  favorite  pair  of  jimmy  choos  are  ruined  and  i’m  pretty  sure  i  sprained  my  ankle     .     ❜     aria  doesn’t  mean  to  snap  at  him  but  it’s  already  too  late  as  the  words  come  out  of  her  mouth     .     ❛     i’ve  been  better     ,     ❜     she  adds  dryly     .

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒  𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍  𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄’𝐒  𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇  but  the  soldier  only  hears  the  confrontation  .  a  self  check  is  made  ,  a  breath  taken  in  the  form  of  a  steady  inhale  and  exhale  .  what  more  could  be  said  beyond  another  warning  to  step  out  of  his  way  ?  nothing  .  steve  rogers  was  a  stubborn  ass  when  he  wanted  to  be  and  he  knows  it  .  ❛    steve  ,      ❜  he  attempts  reason  now  instead  of  threats  ,  ❛    you’ve  got  to  let  me  out  there  and  finish  this  .  they  won’t  stop  coming  and  you    know  it   ❜

she spends an hour picking out her outfit ,  another forty - five minutes to do her hair and makeup .  all of which is ridiculous ,  and entirely wasted ,  because the most they’re doing is a phone call .  voice to voice .  like she has a hundred other times with hundreds of other people . but none of those people are him .  after she’s dressed ,  the waiting starts .  he has to call her because ,  well ,  classified missions and whereabouts means that he doesn’t exactly have a cellphone she can dial .  so while she waits ,  she paces .  adjusting things on shelves ,  debating whether or not she has time to dust the mantle before he calls ,  pacing the small confines of her living room .  when her phone finally rings ,  she just stares at it for a moment .  eyes wide ,  heart in her throat  —-  and then she fumbles to answer it .      ❝  hello ? ❞     does her voice sound too breathy ?  too eager ?  should she be more resigned ? flippant ?  her hand lifts ,  pushing through perfect curls as her heart races .      ❝ hey !  yeah ,  hi .  steve rogers .  it’s caroline .  forbes .  caroline forbes .  um ,  ❞     god she sounds like a nervous wreck .    ❝  how are you ?  ❞

                             ❛     if we   BOTH   stick to the story, they can’t prove anything     ❜