Wholocked amateur photographer and writer

beautifulwhensarcastic

Source: piranhafiend

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imaginesteverogerss

Anonymous asked:

Steve saving a kid who broke into the ice on a frozen lake, despite being terrified himself because nasty ice water flashbacks?

imaginesteverogerss answered:

Coughing, heaving, Steve collapses on the bank of the lake, his lower legs still in the water, skin on fire with cold. The coughing won’t stop, his breath becoming sharper in his throat, knives slicing through his windpipe as he panics. Dirt in his mouth, grit between his teeth.

A hand, hard, lands on his shoulder. “Steve.” He tries to pick up his head, can’t, the muscles in his neck locking. “Steve.”

Someone turns him over. He gasps for breath, blinking at the bright whiteness of the sky above him. Oh, this is familiar, the shortness of breath, the terror, the ache in his chest. The spine freeze is different.

“Steve.” A face above him: goatee, a glow. “Breathe, okay? The kid’s safe. You’re safe. It’s over. It’s over.”

His chest squeezes, hard, then suddenly releases, and he gasps, another kind of pain as his lungs fill. He reaches up, claws at something, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribcage.

“Good,” says the voice. “Good, keep breathing. It’ll be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

There’s some kind of metallic clacking. A warm hand touches his cheek. Finally, finally the face above him slots into place. “Tony,” he mumbles.

“Yeah.” Tony laughs, collapses across Steve’s body. “Yeah, Steve, it’s me. You alright? You’re alright. Yeah. I’m here.”

water steve rogers

imaginesteverogerss

Anonymous asked:

Imagine it's summer and the avengers are in the pool but Steve won't get in because the water is extremely cold and the others push him in on accident so Natasha saves him and proceeds to lecture the other boys. Can you end it with team snuggles and watching movies? Btw love the writing! Keep up the good work!

imaginesteverogerss answered:

Mod Warning: Panic Attacks and almost drowning.

The water is so cold, and Steve is right back there. He can’t get his body to move, sure that it’s fruitless as he sinks to the bottom. He hears a faint and far away cry, and suddenly he’s dragged to the surface by Natasha, who’s pale face has nothing to do with the cold.

“Tony, how could you have been so thoughtless?” Her voice is colder than the water, all furiously quiet iron. "Pushing him into ice water?“ Tony looks like he’s about to be sick, guilt crushing him as he stands there dripping pool water of he deck.

“I didn’t think–”

“Clearly.”

Steve can’t even walk to the stairs, and Natasha and Sam have to physically cart him out of the water, stripping him before wrapping him in a towel and taking him inside.

“That was a shitty thing Tony did,” Sam murmured. I’m sorry, Steve.“

"H-he w-was j-just t-trying to h-have f-fun,” Steve stuttered, shuddering in Sam’s grip.

“That’s still enough pool time. How about hot chocolate and a movie?”

The others filter in as Steve settled on the couch, wrapped in half a dozen blankets. Tony still looks horrified at himself, but he relaxes when Steve pulls him close.

theliteratureloser-deactivated2

sorelatable sorelatable

SUMMER KINDA STRESSES ME OUT BC I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO BE DOING SOMETHING FUN AT ALL HOURS OR ELSE IM WASTING SUMMER IS THAT JUST ME OR

Source: sorelatable

spectralarchers

66koi 66koi

does anyone else constantly get the feeling that you’re running out of time?? and for no reason!! i could be lying in bed in the middle of summer vacation and my mind is like “hurry up!!! before it’s too late!!!” and i’m just like “hurry up and do what?? leave me alone wtf!!!”

Source: sadunit

imaginesteverogerss

Anonymous asked:

please more of war vet steve and civilian bucky

imaginesteverogerss answered:

A follow up to this fill.

It wasn’t the physical therapy that was the most frustrating. (Not that it wasn’t at all. Steve could do it. He could do those things they were asking him to do. His brain knew them and his body knew them but it was like running through waist-high water to relay the messages: slow and heavy and exhausting and Steve could do it).

It wasn’t the physical therapy that was the most frustrating. It was the other things. The things he woke in the night in a cold sweat over: shivering and nauseous and heart sick. The things he didn’t remember that plagued him anyway.

It was Bucky’s birthday today and Steve was nearly six months out of the hospital and onto his long road to what his doctors were calling his New Normal (Steve hated the implications. He nodded and smiled every time they said it anyway.)

So he got up extra early and made his way to the kitchen. It only took him ten minutes to get from the bedroom, down the stairs (using the railing) and into the kitchen. He was going to make Bucky breakfast. Bucky, who’d been by his side the whole time, as his cheerleader and shoulder to cry on and (more than a couple times, Steve was ashamed to say) the outlet for the frustrations Steve couldn’t keep locked behind his teeth.

He was going to make Bucky breakfast for his birthday.

***

Bucky woke to an empty bed. That wasn’t unusual. Steve –he didn’t remember. He’d lost a month, maybe two, of memory in the Incident (Bucky couldn’t bring himself to call it anything else. It made his stomach twist to think of those weeks, when he first learned Steve was MIA and then all the time in the hospital. He felt cowardly for it, sometimes, to feel so nauseous about it when Steve had had to live it).

It didn’t seem to matter that Steve couldn’t remember what happened, or even the time leading up to it. He had night terrors and vague flashbacks of something he couldn’t name that sent him into a panic attack nonetheless.

The difference this time was that Bucky smelled coffee. Swinging himself up out of bed, he pulled on a sweatshirt (one of Steve’s) and trudged downstairs with his nose shoved under the neckline (it always smelled like Steve no matter how many times Bucky washed it).

Coming around the corner into the kitchen, Bucky stopped short. Because there was Steve, seated at the table, with a whole breakfast laid out in front of him – eggs and coffee and bacon and a stack of pancakes.

“Happy Birthday.” Steve beamed.

Bucky swallowed hard and made his way over to Steve with tears in his eyes. “You made me breakfast.”

Steve stretched up to return Bucky’s hug as best he could. “I thought it would be a nice surprise. I mean, I have a gift, too,” he gestured towards a small package on the counter, “but I wanted to make you breakfast, too.”

Bucky leaned in to give Steve a lingering kiss, morning breath be damned. “Thank you. This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Steve tugged Bucky down into the empty chair next to him. “So’re you, you know. You haven’t – all this time, everything that’s changed, and you’re right there no matter what. You deserve this – more than this.”

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

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