#dreamloyal

[palespyder]

❛    hm  ------  what’s  the  matter ,  you  didn’t  come  here  for  a  little  chat  ?   ❜   @dreamloyal  ❤ ‘d

[survivalstudied]

wound:  my muse patches and bandages a wound your muse has gotten.  /  dreamloyal

THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID about being expected to keep up with a supersoldier,  but it won’t be sharon and her stubborn need to keep up with all the players on the field that brings it up.  steve knows that about her.  he also knows she can brush off an injury almost as well as he can,  the difference being sharon heals quite a bit slower.  he’s taken to checking her over every time they finish a mission  (  it’s probably a smart idea,  but that’s yet another thing sharon won’t admit to  )  and,  like most times,  tonight he found one to be more serious than she led on.

“  the bleeding had stopped before you started sticking a NEEDLE into it.  ”  her weight rests in forearms pressed against the lip of the porcelain sink as steve continues to stitch up a rather deep wound just above her left hip;  she has to make a bit of an effort to keep her breathing steady as he tugs the stitch taut.  “  and,  y’know,  thanks.  for the free medical services and whatnot.  i’ll add an extra star to your yelp review.  ”

[futurise]

IT’S  THE  DAWN  OF  A  NEW  AGE:     a time of peace        relatively speaking         and the proliferation of hope.   before,  when  cataclysmic apocalypses  were a novel concept,  and being hunted to the ends of the earth by a  power-hungry megalomaniac  wasn’t simply a natural consequence of  choices he’d made  he used to relish these moments.    THE  SPARK  OF  PROMISE.   THE  INFINITE  BLAZE OF  PROMISE  at the  long-awaited end of  a battle-scarred odyssey.   he hovers at the precipice of this aftermath,  gravitating between the weight of   HOW UNDESERVING HE IS OF SURVIVAL,   and the ephemeral daring of  NEW BEGINNINGS.   crimson armor  gleams  sleek,  newly-engineered perfection  for a  new team  and a new iron man amidst the faces both  new   &  old.

and here they are:  imperfect,  fallible,   the   KINTSUGI  OF  FRAGMENTED  PIECES   assembling,  the sum of their parts greater than the whole.   

❛     you  really  think  this’ll  work  ?     ❜     he speaks in  history and hallowed legacy,  casualness layered with subtext.  they don’t need words anymore to say certain things with  boundless meaning  in only a handful of words.  but it feels right,  that some things be consecrated aloud.  

                             do   you   think   we   can   do   this    ?

@dreamloyal​   / /   THE HEROIC AGE.

[syndicatcd-archive]

@dreamloyal​ liked for something soft. 

   ❛       𝐜'𝐦𝐨𝐧       𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞       𝐢𝐭'𝐬       𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬.          ❜        he       gives       the      soldier       a       little       nudge       while       looking       at      him       with      longing       hazel       eyes.       Christmas       was      meant       to       be      spent       with       family,       and      Steve       was       as      close       as       family.       to      hell       with       the      damn       war,       the      night       was       theirs.       no       blood       shed       for      once.      

[wingedfounder]

@dreamloyal  sent:   “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

        “ spoken like a true old-timer, ”  she teases, a playful smile adorning her lips as she glances sideways at him.  still, he makes a good point, and jan is silent for a moment as she contemplates his words.  “ anyway, i stop and look around more than most do. ”  but after a pause, her features scrunch a little.  “ well...  maybe i could stand to take a few more glances around every now and then. ”  she doesn’t like standing still, being without a project.  it makes her antsy.  “ is this your way of telling me that i need to work less?  these outfits don’t design themselves, you know. ”

[bringsfires]

// @dreamloyal liked for a STARTER . 

      “ CAP, heads up ! ” a bundle of fire strikes the ground at the good captain’s side, burning a barrier between them and a barrage of enemies. toro lands not too long after it, hands held out to kindle the flame. “ looked like you could use some help over here.  ”

[buhkybrns]

                                                   “ you’re the first and last of your kind. ”

STARTER CALL ! ↪ @dreamloyal // every other freckle - alt J

[buhkybrns]

@dreamloyal asked : ⤿ ’ bandage / patch them up when they get hurt. ’ ( nonverbal starters )

                                                   it’s raining , the kind of slow & dreary misting that has left nothing but dull grey for miles and a slow sinking in your bones —— you don’t wish it would let up so much as you'd prefer it to pick up pace , wanting for nothing so much as the heavy rush that rattles the ground and swallows up noise and signs of life for miles out. anything to break up the way this silence has stretched and grown and folded itself over into something too thick for your throat , nothin’ but the slowly seeping chill and the sight of your own breath.                                                     it’s barely dawn , but some things have no real sense of time : war , rain , and the slope of steve rogers’ bleeding nose. all three seem to have converged , here.                                                     you’ve always had a little trouble lookin’ at him when he’s busted up —— which maybe ain't fair , you figure , but it is what it is : not a squimishness , exactly , but it’s mostly you don’t want that to be the thing in your head , a bunch of bloody - slick flesh tangled into all that other shit that rattles around behind the thin skin of your eyelids. still , though , you make yourself. look , and breathe , & gently take that hand of his in your own.                                                     his knuckles are all swollen up and raw , and a great weeping gash is slowly drying up across the meat of his thumb. he always seems to carry his wounds in the strangest spots , you think , always in the tendered spaces of him. if you were kinder , you might ignore how apt that is.                                                     “ y’ever think , ”  you offer , finally , voice hoarse as it breaks through this small space between the two of you —— you're pretending to be much more invested in this salve than is strictly necessary , your fingers careful along the valleys of his knuckles because one of you ought’a be kinder to his hands , and it’s sure as shit not gonna be him. you’re wasting time , mostly , or buying it , because it’s steve , and you’re sure there’s more damage to feel out for ,  “ y’ever think about gettin’ your ass kicked in better weather ?  ”