I really like playing a good superhero, a lot of superheroes…not that there are bad superheroes. But a lot of superheroes are tortured souls and they have demons they are fighting. Cap’s just a really good guy. Aside from being a superhero and having powers, he’s just a really good man.
Waking up to the sound of Steve parking his motorcycle in front of your house in the middle of the night. Whenever he has trouble sleeping, he pays you a visit, and the two of you have long conversations over coffee. Sometimes you even end up together in bed, but there isn’t a label to what you have yet.
have a fun/cute drabble b/c i haven’t written anything in awhile
“A zoo, Potter? You have a zoo
in your garden?” Lily said, coming to a full stop. James, whose hand was
attached to hers, was forced to stop as well.
Lily stared, mouth agape, first at her boyfriend, and then at the collection
of misshapen broom sheds that littered the lawn around them. At first glance, the
sheds had appeared perfectly ordinary. Well, ordinary for wizards: garishly
painted, with bright, clashing colors, some with polka dots, others with
stripes, all set in rows like an oddly prepared chess board.
Odd, but relatively harmless.
As James had led her amongst them, however, intent on finding a suitable
place to snog, she’d noticed that each shed had an opening, not unlike a snack
kiosk. But instead of a fizzy drink machine, each opening revealed a distinct, fully
contained animal enclosure.
Enclosures for animals. Like a zoo.
Because that was
completely fucking normal.
“You have a zoo in your
garden?” she repeated, turning once again to her boyfriend. He looked
“I’m not sure why you’re surprised,” he said casually, letting go
of her hand to pet a slobbering camel whose head appeared out of a bright green
shed. “I told you about it.”
Lily shook her head. “You mentioned your mother’s greenhouse and your
father’s potions laboratory, James. You even slipped in that bit about the
Quidditch pitch when you thought I was asleep, but I definitely don’t remember
anything about a zoo.”
“I said I had lots of pets.”
“That you did.”
“Well, here they are,” James said, wiping his slimy hand on his
trousers and sweeping his arm in a grandiose gesture.
“Dogs or cats are pets, James. Not an entire bloody zoo in your
James grinned sheepishly. Ironic, given the small flock of sheep in
the enclosure over his left shoulder. Over his right, Lily saw a small herd of