hello world. ive come to say i finished. it is 1:02 am, and yes, i am crying.
~~~spoilers for kingdom of ash, and the whole series, but by this point, we all know the drill~~~
okay, i made it to the end, guys. and when i tell you i fucking cried multiple times, i mean ugly ass tears. this fucking series has been such a beacon of hope, and love, and beauty, and life, that i didn’t know i needed until i found it.
and at the end of the day what these books taught me: women fucking rule. these strong, powerful, motherfucking women built their own world from nothing. a better world. i cannot express how powerful that statement is.
the ending is so fucking satisfying. such a beautiful, solid, hopeful end. i couldn’t ask for a better ending.
my heart. and for the last time for this series, here is one of my favorite quotes:
“You do not yield.”
simple, yet how fucking powerful. i swear to you i jumped up from my seat repeating it with aelin, over and over.
to whatever end.
long live queen aelin galythinius, a spirit that could not be broken.
summary: after a long week you’re left completely exhausted. steve comforts you and helps you unwind.Â
words: ~1.6kÂ
warnings: slight mentions of violence, angst, angst-to-fluff, a lil friends-to-lovers (i’m SORRY literally all of my oneshots are some variation of this but i just can’t resist), minor age gap? (if you call 5 years a lot). also civil war happened but they resolved it so 2017 au teeheeeeee
a/n: this sucked omg. why is my writing going downhill. also this is a red-room-turned-agent-reader who helped steve adjust when he came out of the ice bc i love cliche love backstories hehe…i tried to be very descriptive here but that failed oops.this is prolly one of my worst fics ever (it’s unedited) but my other one got deleted so i’m uploading this in its place!
Steve knew something was wrong the minute you came back from your mission. You always acted a bit off the first few days following your return, but for some reason, today seemed different. For the past week you’d been blatantly avoiding his gaze, refusing to meet his eye unless forced to.Â
You don’t even return Sam and Bucky’s sarcastic one-liners - and you always make sure to send a cheesy joke right back at them. It’s not typical for you to be so quiet and reserved like this; frankly, it scared him.Â
He knows that as a former Red Room assassin, you never had it easy. As the youngest of the twenty-eight dancer-disguised warriors, you were merely eight years old when you were admitted (Natasha was thirteen). At eight, there was much you didn’t know. You were naive, easily shaped to conform to the strict rules they’d set out for you.Â
But despite all the hell you’d gone through in the past, you managed to find it in your heart to forgive and create a compassionate nature towards others. Especially him. He always wondered what he deserved to get someone like you– he felt more than lucky to have you in his life.
It was 4 a.m, and his insomnia was at its worst. It had peaked ever since he’d come out of the ice - he was 27, had so much of his life before him before it was abruptly put to a stop. But then he met you, with your warm eyes and kind smile that was such a sharp contrast to the girl you used to be.Â
i knew in the 2nd grade that standardized testing was bullshit. harry potter book 4 had just come out and i was at a good part. harry had just put his name into the goblet of fire.
during the standardized test, we were allowed to keep a post-test book on our desk. i diligently got started on part 1: english. at the time, all of the answers went on the same sheet, but all of the questions were in different booklets. so i finish all my english questions, read in my extra time, and then it’s part 2: math.
i realize i have answered all of my english questions on the math portion of the answer sheet. at first, annoyed but undeterred, i’m like. okay great i gotta erase every bubble. but i get bored around question 5 of doing this because… like… harry potter is sitting on my desk and i could just give them the wrong answers. so i answer maybe 10 whole questions in the math portion, copy the english answers over to where they actually belong, and then crack open the book and call it a day.
i obviously failed. this is the real life, not a movie. my parents were called in. i had scored in the lowest percentile. i was bad at math. i was concerningly bad at math. i could have done better just guessing than how i did with the english answers.
if this was just a funny story, someone would ask me “why did you do so badly when you usually get fairly average grades” and i would have said “i wanted to read harry potter, not take this stupid test.” but it’s the real life, and nobody asked. instead, i was branded stupid and bad at math. i got placed in a lower math than i needed to be in; got bored, stopped paying attention. knew i was in the “worst at math” group, started saying “i’m bad at math” and 100% stopped trying because the further i fell behind, the worse i got. through the rest of my academic career - until senior year in high school, i never got above a c on a math test, because i was “just bad” at math.
i had undiagnosed adhd. the only reason i know now i have adhd is because at 22 years old, i finally went to a therapist, who effectively said, “are you kidding me you have the most obvious case of attention deficit i’ve ever seen.”
but nobody had been looking. my one test grade had given teachers permission to not look, because, obviously, i was bad at math. the one time i got 100% on a math test - that one time in senior year - i remember my math teacher looking at it and saying “it’s clear that if you just focused, you could do the work.”
in college i’d take a math class and i actually “just focused” for the first time in my life - meaning i treated math as a challenge, but one i could overcome with the skills i’d learned all on my own, through constant work and practice. i got the highest grade in my class. i still think i’m bad at math.
which makes me wonder: how many people got fucked over because of something stupid like “i was too preoccupied with harry potter”. who had nobody looking out for them. who slipped under the radar because - come on, aren’t some people just bad at things?
Summary: Reader doesn’t know who Captain America is, of course he wants her. Also a glimpse into their relationship over a year.
WC: 1.4k
A/n: this is pretty fluffy you should check it out
The night you met Steve Rogers was at a late night jazz club. This lovely woman was performing La Vie En Rose and Steve couldn’t help but notice you humming along right beside him.
“You like the music?” You didn’t recognise him at first so you were speaking to him like any other handsome man talking to you at a bar.
“Yep,” you nodded and didn’t continue the conversation. Steve was a little shocked at you not recognising him considering he was in the spotlight constantly…but he liked it. He liked being treated like a normal person again, although with you it was a little tough.
“Do you..do you um. Oh my goodness, I forgot how to talk,” Steve muttered to himself, “do you come here often?” Steve asked. You frowned at his lame pick up line.
may we be blessed with a smutty birthday drabble w Steve where he has everyone pretend they forgot readers birthday when in reality there’s something big planned 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 never had a big bday so I will be living through this lolz
i’m actually sorry this took so long and sorry that it’s so long too lol:
you don’t know if you’re ready to face today.
it’s your birthday and you’ve never done anything big or extravagant - you think that maybe you’d like to keep it that way, though you’ve never had a big celebration before so you don’t even know how that’d feel. maybe there’s something comforting about the predictability of how today is going to go, but you can’t help the part deep inside of you that longs for something new.
waking up to an empty bed, you brace yourself for some kind of over-the-top present from tony but as you head out of your bedroom, you find the rest of you and steve’s apartment entirely unchanged. you tentatively walk through empty hallways into the kitchen and everyone is standing around aimlessly, chatting to each other about insignificant things and attempting to make themselves breakfast.
“hi guys,” you smile at all of them and they return the sentiment. “what are you making?”
steve breezes by you to press a brief kiss to your forehead before shoving a piece of burnt toast into his mouth. his voice is muffled when he says, “mornin’ doll.”
