the-little-brown-jug

Music - Steve x Reader

Author’s Note: Sorry it’s so short. I didn’t really know what more to add to this, but I hope you enjoy!

Request: One shot please? Steve sharing his music with you and vice versa. Thank you 

Warnings: just cuteness.

Words: 749

Steve Rogers had always loved music. As a child growing up, he would always love running up to the radio and listening to the latest Billie Holiday song. When he learned that people still listened to the “oldies” in this new century, he was thrilled because it was something he could share and have in common with everyone else. However, he knew that not everyone listened to the same music anymore.

So, Steve had decided to ask his teammates what they thought he would enjoy listening to. Tony had filled his new iPod with too many “rock bands”, Natasha had mostly classical music, and he wanted to know more.

Hence, he asked you. You were someone who Steve found himself spending a lot of time with, and it worried him how much he liked being in your company. You were beautiful, smart, charismatic, and were always listening to music on your phone, so Steve decided that he would ask you. Not only would he get more music to listen to, but he would also get to spend time with you and he rushed at the opportunity.

“Hey (Y/N),” he said, once he found you scrolling on your phone in the living room. You were lazily laying on the couch and smiled at him once he spoke to you. He walked around to where you were sitting and you sat up straight, to make some space for the large captain.

“Hey, Cap,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Um,” he started, and was already blushing. “I was wondering…if you could share some of your music with me? I want to get back to groove of things.”

His small smile was adorable and you knew you couldn’t say no to him.

“Of course, Steve,” you said. “But, you probably shouldn’t say ‘groove’ anymore.”

He blushed and chuckled while you giggled.

You pulled up your ITunes on your phone and smiled at him.

“Ok, so what do you normally listen to?”

“The "oldies”,“ he said. "That’s what Clint calls them. Billie Holiday, Bing Crosby, Glenn Miller…”

“'Little Brown Jug’ and 'In the Mood’, huh?” you asked and he smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah. I’ve been listening to some classical and..rock,” he said.

“Natasha and Tony, no doubt. At least Clint hasn’t introduced you to Dubstep, yet. You’re so not ready for that,” you said and he looked confused for a moment.

“Ok, we’ll start with some of the classics. Have you heard The Beatles yet?”

“Slightly,” he answered and your eyes widened.

“Ok, we’re starting with them and Elvis; they’re from the 50s and 60s and they’re classics,” you said and tapped 'Falling in Love With You’ and 'Jailhouse Rock’, followed by your favorite, 'Hey Jude’ and 'I Saw Her Standing There’.

“You liked them?” you asked, hoping he did.

“Yeah, I liked them,” he said, truly enjoying listening to music with you and watching how excited you got over helping him.

“Now, the 70s,” you said pulling up the 1970s theme song, 'Stayin’ Alive", followed by some Led Zeppelin and, of course, 'Bohemian Rhapsody’.

“You’ve probably heard that last one before, Tony probably filled your iPod with Queen,” you said and smiled at Steve.

“Thank you for doing this, (Y/N),” he said, smiling at you.

“Steve, it really is no problem. I love music and I care about you and well, by helping you, I get to show my love for both,” you said, and immediately blushed after you basically admitted your love for Steve.

Before he could respond in any way, you exclaimed, “Michael Jackson!” and played 'Thriller’ and 'Billie Jean’.

“Well, that’s it up to the 90s,” you said, eventually, and decided that 1990 and up could wait for another day, although you were a little excited to introduce Steve to rap. You could almost picture his flabbergasted expression.

He smiled at you and scooted towards you, making your breath quicken. He handed you his iPod gently.

“Mind putting some of those in here?” he asked and you nodded, unable to properly speak with his so close to you.

“Thanks,” he said and you swore he almost smirked.

You grabbed your laptop from next to you, plugged his device in, and synced the music he wanted into his phone.

“Here you go,” you said to him. “Hope you enjoy.” And with that, you stood and managed to sneak a kiss to his cheek. As you walked away, you refrained from looking back to see his reaction, but it was your turn to smirk. 

The Poetry of Common Names

I love common names.

I’m not talking about human names (though I confess a fondness for the name Bob, used as a suffix) but the common names of species. The non-Latin ones. I love flipping through seed catalogs and seeing “Good Mother Stallard Beans” and “Moon and Stars Watermelon.” I was utterly delighted to find out that one of the slime molds lurking in my mulch is known as “Wolf’s Milk,” and when I discovered that a type of gelatinous fungus was known in Norway as “Troll Butter” I had to go sit down and fan myself for a few minutes.

Common names are awesome. They are little fragments of poetry. They tell us that somewhere, at some point, somebody lived right up next to this thing and saw it often enough to give it a name. 

In North Carolina where I live, we have insects called Ebony Jewelwings, Red Velvet Mites, and Eastern Pondhawks.

There are native orchids called Rattlesnake Plantain, Crippled Crane-fly, Green Fly and Water Spider. I have been hunting for years for Rabbit Tobacco, with no success, but I manage to grow Sourwood, Little Brown Jug, and Duck Potato, and if only my pond were large enough, I would plant Flying Hedgehogs in a heartbeat.

Endangered plants get no love, compared to animals. People who will rally behind snail darters and endangered mussels get a bit vague when plants come up. (Except orchids. If you’re going to be an endangered plant, try to be an orchid.) But I can’t think that the world wouldn’t be a sadder place if we lost Raven’s Seedbox, Florida Adder’s-Mouth, Carolina Grass-of-Parnassus, Spiked Medusa and Bigleaf Scurfpea.

Seriously, Scurfpea. What is not to love about the name “Scurfpea”? It sounds like a My Little Pony from the wrong side of the tracks.

Sigh. I worry that as we lose contact with nature, among all the other things we lose (and they are many and important) perhaps we’re also losing a store of weird, lyrical little names. And that’s sad. It’s hard to get excited about Stenathium leimanthoides, but I think we could all agree that the Pinebarren Death-Camas is pretty damn awesome.

Maybe not as awesome as Scurfpea, but you can’t have everything.