#whothehellispatroclus

[steve-grantt-rogers]

STEVE isn’t surprised or the least bit phased by Bucky’s foul mood. However, he is worried for his best friend, and he makes his clear when he goes and sits on the floor, right near Bucky’s head.

“YOU could’ve woken me up,” is what he says, quietly. “I wouldn’t have minded. Y’know that I’m always here for you if you ever need me, right?”

@whothehellispatroclus // continued from here!

[ironiati-blog]

@whothehellispatroclus 

Tony walked through the darkened compound looking for a midnight snack as he finished his latest project down in his lab. He hummed to himself as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t bother to flip the lights on until he grabbed his handful of snacks he had hid from the other vultures he calls the Avengers and when he couldn't quite reach his perfect (maybe too perfect) hiding spot he asked FRIDAY to turn the lights on. 

Thats when he saw good ole buckaroo sitting on the counter, he jumped and let out a colorful, “Sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph- Fuck, Barnes I seriously need to get you one of those cat bells” he placed a hand over his reactor and took a deep breath. 

That’s also when he realized his precious snacks were in Barnes hands and he glared, “Excuse you sir, those are mine” 

[typicalclint]

You’re fuckin’ weird.

James Buchanan fucking Barnes @ Clint

[ironiati-blog]

Whatever it takes

@whothehellispatroclus || Close || Post-Civil War 

Tony glanced around at the escort that were assigned to him and he swallowed thickly, he felt uneasy and honestly the Dora Milaje guarding him were kinda scaring him. he was used to being the center of the room, to be above everyone in status and money but at the moment? he felt insignificant and tiny and he didn’t know how to feel about that. 

He almost felt relieved when they arrived in front of a grand wooden doors and he glanced around in curiosity until the doors open and he was allowed inside. Once the door was shut he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked at the King who had an amused expression on his face. 

“Your Majesty, I gotta say that was some escort” His usual banter was no where to be seen as he stepped closer but still stayed a respectable distance, his fingers on his right hand drumming against his thigh in a nervous tick as he glanced around. It had been a few months since the so called Civil War and Tony was nowhere back to his usual self. The betrayal and hurt ran far too deep and he just looked exhausted, he has bags under his eyes and he just didn’t look like Tony Stark. 

The king must have sensed his uneasiness and allowed a small chuckle, “Yes, they can be a bit overwhelming. Tell me Mr.Stark why are you here?” cutting to the chase, that’s good, he could work with that. Tony thought as he nodded and took the offered seat that T’Challa pointed to, “The committee are thinking of pardons but as it stands they don’t trust them, neither do I. But I did convinced them push out one-” 

He reached down to his briefcase and pulled out an envelope, “-For Barnes” He simply said and T’Challa arched a brow and Tony continued, “There’s a catch, Barnes would go back with me and I will oversee his recovery process, of course I want to ask for your assistance, No offense your majesty but all of this technical wonders don’t really scream your name, I want to go over options and ideas. The committee wants Barnes to be fully recovered and be shown that he’s no longer a k-killer before the other pardons get pushed out.” 

It had been a few days that T’Challa claimed need for a safe awakening process, honestly when he learned that Barnes was under ice he felt anger, not towards the man but anyone who actually allowed that to happen, hasn’t he been under ice for too long? Once the process was completed and he was escorted to the lab he felt his heart race at the anticipation, his right hand reached up to tap a soothing rhythm against his reactor. 

Just seeing Barnes once again, made the memories of the bunker push forward, the sound of metal against metal. How Steve nor Barnes held back even when he did, The sight of the shield slamming down on his chest and fearing the shield had dug deep enough to damage his reactor. Not to mention the ice that began to crawl over him as the knife dug deeper into his heart. 

He must have looked terrible and he realized he couldn't breath and his left arm trembled as he tried to take in a much needed breath, if it wasn’t for T’Challa’s warm hand on his shoulder as an anchor he would have fled from the room before he embarrassingly suffered an anxiety attack in the middle of the room. He cleared his throat several times and he turned to give the King a nod before looking over at ex-assassin, “Barnes” His voiced was laced with pain and wariness, “I-I’m sure the King has given you a heads up but you ready to go back stateside?”  

[steve-grantt-rogers]

Steve took a deep, shuddering breath. He wasn’t okay. How could he be? The nightmare was still fresh in his mind, tearing him apart, inside and out. He couldn’t focus on anything besides his trembling hand, his unsteady heartbeat, and the panic that had settled low in his abdomen.

It’d been a dream which he’d dreamt many times before. He should’ve been used to it by now -- the fear in Bucky’s eyes, his outstretched hand, his loud, guttural scream. But Steve never got used to the dream, regardless of how many times it occurred. Fresh in his mind, he stood from his bed, shrugging on a shirt as the dream replayed in his mind, over and over again. The same routine every night.

And yet, there was a shift; so subtle, so minuscule, that, at first, Steve hadn't noticed it. With everything that had happened over the past few weeks -- Fury, dying; Bucky, alive; Pierce, dead -- Steve couldn’t wrap around his head how it could have all happened. Well, sure, he could have, but he was, quite honestly, tired. Exhausted. However, no matter how much his exhaustion tore at him, he looked for Bucky. He looked for what he could of his friend, and yet, nothing had been found.

Until now.

Walking barefoot into his living room, the blond came to a stop as soon as he saw someone standing there. Steve didn’t have to look twice to know who it was. The familiar sharp lines of the man’s face, the blue-grayness of his eyes -- those same eyes -- and, of course, the slope of his mouth told him it was Bucky. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Steve started forward, only to stop dead in the center of the room -- just a few paces in front of the other man.

“Buck?”

@whothehellispatroclus 

[kxtiik]

It’s Worth The Fight || Natasha & James||

@whothehellispatroclus:

His whole body ached as exhaustion washed over him. He was aware of the stiff right leg of his pants where the blood from a bullet to the thigh had dried and the stab of pain in his side where he was sure a rib was cracked, but more than anything, he was just tired. He gingerly rolled over, half asleep, so he was able to look up at Natasha and offered a quick smile.“That went well.” He teased softly before letting his eyes drift closed again.

Well wasn't one of the words she would have used to describe this particular excursion. But they were both alive, conscious and whilst a little worse for wear, it was nothing a hot shower and a stiff drink couldn't fix. 🕷 "Alright, I'll give you well. But it could have gone better." Natasha had always been her own worst critic. Physcoanalysing every move she ever made. Every choice she put into effect. But hadn't James been the one to instill such behaviour in her in the first place? 🕷 " How do you feel?" Simply looking him over, she could see no more than a few cuts and scrapes here and there, perhaps the laceration that stretched the length of his temple the worst of the hits he had taken. 🕷 " I think you're starting to lose your edge, old man."

[kxtiik]

Was that not the right response? I'm well aware I'm a terrible human being. It's a miracle @whothehellispatroclus is still friends with me. Let us be honest.

I'm sorry, Peggy. I love you really

[kxtiik]

Do They Know It’s Christmas?|| Natasha & James

:: 🎄 Christmas 🎄 themed starter for @whothehellispatroclus ::

It was Christmas Eve if New York city. The streets were abuzz as last minute shoppers clamoured to buy forgotten gifts. Yellow cabs ran the gauntlet of the winding streets, and as the last of the daylight dwindled, Natasha pulled the collar of her jacket up higher around her face to protect her from the bitter wind that nipped at her cheeks, leaving them tinged with a hint of colour. Overhead off in the distance, a glowing neon light drew Natasha in, the flashing green sign declared the establishment to be ' The Melting Pot'. Whilst the name was questionable, the promise of a drink and warmth was enough for Natasha to divert from her intended path and head inside. The light was dim, and a layer of smoke seemed to hang in the air. Low hanging lights just about illuminated various spots around the bar, and twinkling multi-coloured fairy lights ran around the edge of the bar. It was both dingy and festive. A combination Natasha had never expected to see. On descending the small flight of stairs into the main area, there was a figure that caught her eye, sat on the far end of the bar, shoulders hunched, and a glass of scotch carefully cradled in one hand, the site alone drew a bittersweet smile to her face, and with little to no hesitation, she crossed the space, sitting down next to him as she ordered a scotch of her own. 🕷"YA vizhu, chto nekotoryye veshchi ne izmenilis'"Lifting the glass from in front of him, she took a daring sniff, before it was set back down. 🕷 "Eto Sochel'nik, Dzheyms. Chto ty zdes' delayesh'?"