fateandfortune | The Sweet Gestures Meme

Entry tags:

open: meme

The Sweet Gestures Meme

the sweet gestures meme

Everyone loves sweet gestures—little things that remind someone that you love them, that you think of them, that you care for their general, and other things. A gesture could be made towards a friend, a family member, or some other loved one. Maybe towards a total stranger you think deserves something to make them smile.

prompts

1. LOVE NOTES ❤ Everyone loves love notes, and they don’t even have to be romantic. It could be simple as ‘have a good day at work’ or even something funny to brighten someone’s day.

2. BREAKFAST IN BED ❤ Especially on a Sunday morning or after a long, late shift at work, breakfast in bed with their favorite foods is surely the way to start the day off right.

3. PHONE CALL ❤ Who doesn’t like a phone call from someone they love, for no reason? A nice conversation can be all someone needs to have a better day or make a good day be a great one.

4. SWEET TREAT ❤ Late at night when you’re both tired from work or just general day-to-day things, something sweet from the local bakery can be just the thing you need.

5. MASSAGE ❤ While a wonderful idea, swapping massages can be a good idea too, or doing it after a nice bubble bath you made for them, or just randomly.

6. RANDOM HUG ❤ Even if they are not having a bad day, how could a hug not bring a smile to someone’s face?

7. SMALL GIFT ❤ It could be a piece of jewelry that caught your eye and reminded you of them, a stuffed animal you won at the carnival… just something small and sweet that you are sure they are going to love no matter how cheap or expensive it is.

8. FLOWERS ❤ From a florist or from a random patch of green, the surprise of flowers for someone you know and/or love is always welcomed! Look into their meanings to make the bouquet, big or small, become extra special.

9. RENT A MOVIE ❤ Sure, you might not like the genre of the movie, but if the other person does, then that is all that matters.

10. SLOW DANCE ❤ Middle of the living room, randomly while on a date, or maybe that is the whole purpose of the date. Slow dances are so underrated.

11. SURPRISE GETAWAY ❤ Yes, that is just what you guys need: a vacation from things, even if it’s just for a day or two and is not half way across the world. From a family vacation to a romantic spur of the moment, everyone loves going to a new place.

12. SURPRISE KISS ❤ Who doesn’t like a surprise kiss? A soft one on the cheek, a kiss being the thing to wake you up in the morning, or a big one right when you walk through the door.

13. HOLD HANDS ❤ There is nothing like holding hands. It’s a simple and intimate gesture, and if you do it the right way, it could have a whole different meaning.

14. COOK DINNER ❤ Come on, give it a go. Who cares if you’re not the best cook in the world or possibly the worst? It’s the thought that counts.

15. WILD CARD ❤ Was there something missed? Did you have another scene in mind? Want to roll again?

POSTED BY luuupin @ allmymemes

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Completely unaware of Rogue's own thoughts, Steve made another face at his shoes. "I'd rather just go barefoot," he muttered, rather mutinously, sounding like a sulking child and not really caring. "I guess I'd probably better, though. People frown on you running around without shoes when you're not getting shot at." He slipped the shoes back on, but didn't tie them; it'd be fine for the quick trip up and back again.

Grinning a little at the memory as he turned back to Rogue, his smile was tinged slightly with melancholy. "Course, they frown on you getting shot at while running in the street anyway, regardless of what shoes, if any, you're wearing."

He did sound like a child, and somehow that was incredibly endearing to Rogue. He reminded her of a big kid who had never quite grown up, but was still brave enough to fight for what was right.

And then he started talking about getting shot at and she frowned, because he was smiling and talking as if it were nothing. She supposed that to him it was no big deal at all, but it was a huge deal for her. "I'd rather you not get shot at anywhere," she commented softly, her expression conveying quite clear that she was not comfortable with this topic of conversation.

Steve's smile fell as he saw the look on her face. "I don't--" mean to get shot at, it just happens, he started to say, but thankfully his brain was fast enough to stop his mouth from speaking the rest. He moved forward. "I'd rather not get shot at, either," he murmured, reaching up to rub her upper arms soothingly. "I'd just gotten the serum," he explained, wanting her to understand that it hadn't been an everyday occurrence, even back then. "A--friend, the doctor who'd given me the chance, had just been killed. I had to stop the guy. I do try to keep people from shooting at me," he said again.

The thing was, he was Captain America; he may be on reserve right now, but if something happened tomorrow and he was needed, he wasn't going to pass it up just to stay safe. He couldn't. If this thing between them, amazingly strong, but still so fragile and new, was going to work, she had to understand that.

Rogue took a deep breath and nodded as he spoke, taking comfort in that soothing touch of his hands on her arms. It was nice that he explained the situation he'd just been talking about, and she could understand why he'd gotten into it in the first place. She would have done the same thing in his place, after all.

"I understand," she said softly, reaching up to set a hand along that strong, handsome jaw of his. "I'm never going to ask you to stop being who you are. It's part of why I love you, that you want to help people. But I'm also never going to stop worrying while you're out there, so just promise me you'll be careful, okay? Just promise that you'll always try to come back to me?"

Her fear was beginning to show, the deep-set terror that she would lose him in a random moment and that there would be nothing she could do. It was a fear that would haunt her for perhaps the rest of their lives.

Steve had always been cocky, thinking he was invincible, never giving in to the notion that he couldn't handle anything, or anyone. It had driven Bucky spare, and it had only grown worse when his body had been enhanced.

He could tell he couldn't be blasé about it with Rogue, though, not like he usually was. And he understood; the idea of her fighting, being shot at - if he were in her shoes, he'd be worried sick. Leaning his forehead against hers, he said soothingly, "I will always find a way back to you. I promise. I have something incredible to come back for, I'm not gonna screw that up. Okay?"

This wasn't like his suicide mission on the plane, where all he had was a photograph, the memory of a kiss, and the possibility of a future - this thing with Rogue, it was a certainty, and he was going to see it through 'til the end.

Rogue was so very grateful that Steve didn't brush off her fear and worry as so many people might have. Any time he was out there doing his job as Captain America, she would be worried sick that it would be the one time he couldn't keep that promise to her, because there was always the one time. That one time had cost her Remy, and she couldn't bear to lose Steve too.

"Okay," she murmured in agreement, closing her eyes and just drinking in the closeness of him. When she opened them again, the fear and worry were gone, replaced by a playful mischief. "Weren't you going to feed me?"

Steve grinned, relieved that she seemed assuaged by his promise, for the moment. He knew it was a ridiculous, probably impossible promise to keep, but he was going to try his hardest, anyway. Captain America always kept his promises, right? He also knew that this wouldn't be the end to her worrying, either, but he was quite familiar with the old adage 'don't go borrowing trouble.'

"Yes," he responded in a chipper tone, "I was indeed going to feed you." He took her hand - such a simple, innocent gesture, that had grown instead of diminished after the intimacy they'd just shared - and led her back out into the rest of the apartment, pointing things out as they went. "Bathroom," he indicated the door at the end of the hall, catty-corner to his own bedroom, then the door across from his, "second bedroom, but it's set up as a study-slash-artist's studio. It's a corner room, so it gets great natural light from the East and South." Steve knew it was a nice room, and he was lucky to have it, but he didn't understand the importance of having a corner apartment with such a nice view, in Brooklyn Heights, which was a pricier city as it was.

Next, the living area proper, which he just waved his hand at. "I think you can figure out what this is for," he teased, before guiding her into the area he knew she'd enjoy. "And, the kitchen area." He tried to look at it from a baker's outside perspective. There was the counter opposite the island, with a stainless steel double sink, the fridge marking the edge of the kitchen area before it opened into the living section; the stove was to the left of the sink, just by the corner, with a microwave attached above it. It was a new stove, that still confounded him slightly - not only was it not gas, it didn't even have any actual burners, just sort of pictures of burners, that glowed red when it was turned on. The oven had buttons to set the exact temperature digitally, and a digital read-out of the actual temperature, you didn't even have to open the oven door to check a thermometer inside. The whole thing intimidated him.

Beside the stove, the counter extended along the adjacent wall, with a blender and coffee maker sitting off to the side. Steve had never used either of them, but they'd been house-warming gifts from Tony (meaning Pepper) and, oddly enough, Clint, so he couldn't just leave them in the boxes.

With all of that counter space, there were also cupboards above it all, as well as drawers and cupboards below, along with cupboards under the island, which spanned the whole kitchen section save for enough room to easily maneuver around the counters. Besides a set of dishes, glasses and eating utensils, the cupboards and drawers were pretty bare. He had a couple lonely pans in a drawer, for when he felt like making breakfast foods on the stove, but other than that, he didn't really have a lot of items for the kitchen. He either made sandwiches, or grabbed something quick at one of the delis down the street.

Steve had the irrational feeling like he was presenting Rogue with a courting gift, and hoped she liked it, like a bird displaying its plumage in a mating ritual.

Going over to the fridge, he started quickly pulling out things he'd need to make several sandwiches for them. He didn't just slap condiments and some meat on a sandwich, if he was going to make one, it was gonna be done right. He pulled out lettuce, a couple tomatoes, a box of pastrami and another of thick-cut roast beef, mustard, and butter. The chopping board he pulled from the drying rack, then a knife from the block beside it, and began cutting up the first tomato.

Holding Steve's hand was one of her favorite things to do now. It was such a simple little thing, but it meant so much - that she could touch him at all and that he returned her affections. She could imagine sitting on the couch together, holding hands and talking or watching a film, and it was the most wonderful image.

She followed him through the apartment, really paying attention this time for the proper tour, noting the bathroom and his studio (which she was dying to explore), and eyeing those lovely windows in the living room. It was the kitchen that really caught her attention though, the whole thing newer and better equipped than her own by far, with so much more space that would make cooking and baking easier. Moving around the room, she ran a hand along the edge of the counter while she examined the stove - it was disappointing that it wasn't gas, but induction was still quite nice to work with. And with all that cupboard and counter space, she was practically drooling.

It was a good thing he didn't seem to want to get rid of her, because between his sweet personality, phenomenal prowess in the bedroom, and amazing kitchen, there was no way she was going anywhere.

Rogue waited for him to pull things from the fridge and get to work at the counter before she moved into place behind him and slipped her arms around his middle. She pressed herself to his back, like the way she did when she rode his bike, laying her cheek against the back of his shoulder, and just sighed contentedly. "I love your apartment, sugar," she told him with a smile that he might not see but would certainly be able to hear. "Especially this kitchen."

It might not have actually been months, but it felt that way to Rogue too. The time apart made things seem... almost strained between them, leaving uncertainty in its wake. For such a long time, she'd felt completely at ease in his presence, like they'd been together for years and years, but now it was almost awkward standing there with him. She didn't like it, but she didn't know how to fix it.

She thought he might be feeling just as weird as she was, with the way he was acting. It made her worry even more about what this was, what it might mean for them. If there was an actual 'them' anymore.

Giving him a deadpan look, Rogue informed him, "Sugar, if my ticket's not valid then it's your own damn fault, considering you're the one who gave it to me."

He hopes it won't take long before they would be back to their usual antics, and not-- just in the sense that they'd end up in bed together. There was, or had been something electric between them, but it wasn't everything to him - certainly not any more.

A gentle chuckle, and he's reaching out to take that ticket from her - ripping it up to make a show of just how pointless it was in the first place before tucking it carefully into his pants pocket.

"Think it'll do." He murmured, finally - taking a step to the side to let her pass him up onto the stairs that lead right up to the private jet. He has to remind himself - she wouldn't be here if she didn't want this, right? Whatever this was.

"Mutants first."

She missed those antics. There had been many long nights of missing him, of the times they'd spent together, and certainly not just in bed. They had joked with each other, laughed and danced, even cried. They had shared so much, and it made her heart ache to think of losing all of that. It was why she was there - because she wanted a chance to reclaim what they seemed to be losing, before it was too late.

He got an eyeroll for the ripped up ticket, because it was such a Tony move, and a shake of the head at that last comment. He could be so exasperating sometimes, but apparently that was one of the things she loved most about him.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she turned and planted a hand on her hip, demanding, "What exactly is this, Tony?"

There's something about her expression, even as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head that tells him the very thing he knows that he knows but feels the need to find out all over again. Was the mutant comment too low? Hell, he'd called her worse - but maybe now it was different? Hell, he hoped not.

Taking a moment for himself, and another to mumble something to his pilot, he takes off up the stairs after her, pausing when Rogue does - flashing her a grin.

"How does a week away from all this sound to you?" Even as he says it, he slowly makes his way up, until he's right behind her, hand on the railing - close to her back, only slightly shorter because of the step difference.

It wasn't the comment itself that got to her, but the whole thing was hard to explain. She was tired of not knowing where they stood, of being apart from him and not even being able to talk to him on the phone because he'd been so busy. And part of Rogue hated herself for feeling that way at all, because it wasn't fair to Tony - the things that had kept him away from her hadn't been insignificant, so she was just being silly to let it get to her so strongly.

Knowing that didn't make it any easier, though.

There had been a time that she would have jumped without question had that offer been extended to her, but that time had passed. She watched that grin move closer and her heart began to feel heavier, weighing down her spirit. "It sounds..." She wanted to make a joke, to smile at him and give him a kiss, but she couldn't chase away the frown that etched itself into her expression. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment before letting it out and turning to head into the plane. "I don't know how it sounds," she admitted over her shoulder, unable to look at him.

He'd felt sure, the moment that Rogue had taken to the stairs that this was it. That everything was fixed and they could move forward, as if nothing had happened, as if things were just like they had been. It's not until she falters with her words that his grin starts to slip away - and in the blink of an eye it's gone.

Tony's never been great at hiding his emotions, especially not around Rogue, so when his shoulders slump, and he feels he - he knows she'll have seen too. Of course, the fact that she can barely look at him says more than enough.

"Rogue." He clears his throat, sucks in a breath and reaches out - gripping her hand, even if she won't turn to look at him. He just needs her attention.

"I'm sorry, and we need to talk, and--" pause. "I've missed you."

Hiding her emotions was something Rogue had a lot of experience with. She couldn't exactly go around broadcasting when she hurt by someone's words or actions, or when something like a friend giving her a hug made her absolutely elated. No one wanted to know or think about the burdens of her mutation, but those were things she'd never had to worry about with Tony. It was nothing short of a miracle that she as able to touch him, but that hadn't been all there was between them. At least, she hoped not.

She went completely still when he took her hand, his fingers warm around hers, and she couldn't move because then he'd see the tears in her eyes. "I've missed you too," she said softly, the words quiet and almost brittle from being stretched too thin. "So much."

He can only imagine that the reason she's not looking he'd bend his head to try and find out if what he fears is true - but he's too afraid of the answer to do it.

A gentle sigh escapes him instead, and he twists his hand in hers, brushing his thumb against the palm of her hand.

"Let me make it up to you?" Another step, up, so he's closer to her, and although he wants to slip his arm around her, he stops himself. He wants her to come with him because she wants to, not because he convinced her. "Or, we can just talk. Here, and take you home?"

It's such a familiar and comforting gesture to feel his thumb brush over her palm that her throat tightens and a few tears slip down her cheeks. Why does he have to be so perfect. He wasn't really, and she knew that, but he was perfect for her.

Turning toward him, she only gave him a second to see her crumpled expression before she tugged her hand from him so she could wrap her arms around him. Her grip was firm, he wasn't going anywhere until she let him, and after a few moments of silence she quietly decided, "Where are we going?"

The relief, as always, is phenomenal. It seems to breathe life back into him as soon as she wraps her arms around him. He hates to see her upset, worse to see the tears - but there's not much he can do about those now, and he supposes that if she's hugging him, it can't really be as bad as it seemed.

"Well, I'd been planning on-- an Island in the Pacific, but if you had another idea?" He doesn't lean back, out of her hold despite the sense that he needs to, instead, lets both hands gently come to rest at the small of her back, holding Rogue to him.

Holding on to Tony and having his arms around her was one of the best sensations in the world, in her extremely biased opinion. Being wrapped up in him made her feel safe and like everything would be alright, and she clung to that feeling with everything she had.

"I just want somewhere quiet," she admitted, hiding her face against his neck. "Somewhere we can be together and not be bothered." Because he was right, they needed to talk, and they wouldn't be able to get much of that done if he had a hoard of adoring fans around him all the time.

It's been a very long time since he'd felt like this - content. It wasn't especially easy, not after all the things that had happened, the time they'd spent apart, the thoughts and fears that had bred in that time. They don't slip away immediately, but he'll let them - if they start to.

"Sounds perfect." He says little more than that for now, choosing to reach up to set his hand against the top of her head instead, turning his own to press a kiss to the side of her head. It might not be terribly appropriate right now, but it feels right, and with Rogue - he'd only ever done what felt right.

Steve was peripherally aware of Rogue wandering around the kitchen (he was always aware of his surroundings, now, but part of his attention seemed hyperfocused on her, and probably always would be, a little), so he didn't startle when she wrapped her arms around him, just slowed the motion of his knife, setting it down as he said in a mild, teasingly-scolding tone, "You're gonna distract me." He pulled one of her hands away from his stomach, tilting his head down to kiss her palm, before placing it back on his chest, over his heart, and smoothing his hand along her arm before reaching for the knife again.

Moving from the tomato to the lettuce, he deftly cut the stalk off and began peeling leaves away from the heart, stacking them neatly off to the side. "I thought you might like the kitchen," he teased, smiling in pleasure, and glad she couldn't see it. "I'd tell you you could use it any time you like..." he grimaced. "But uh... I don't really have very many cooking instruments, or utensils, really, for the kinda stuff you probably wanna do. If it needs more than frying in a pan or cooking on a griddle..." He shrugged lightly, careful to not disrupt her hold on him. "I mostly eat from one of the stores down the street. It's nice having so many options now - and there were plenty Before, too, so that's saying something."

Rogue giggled silently at his scolding, knowing he'd feel the slight shaking of her laughter against his back. There was something thrilling about him touching her when she couldn't see it, and she closed her eyes to properly focus on the sensation of his lips against her palm, and then the beating of his heart under her hand. It was pure bliss in an entirely different way than what they'd experienced together in the bedroom, and she wouldn't give up either for anything in the world.

"We do have a lot of choices when it comes to eating out," she acknowledged, listening to the light almost crinkly tearing sound of the lettuce leaves being separated. "But you can't eat out all the time, sugar, and sandwiches are only gonna get us so far. So I'll just have to bring up a few things to make sure I can prepare you a proper meal." She lifted her head enough to press a kiss to his shoulder blade, but didn't move beyond that - she rather enjoyed being wrapped around him, as he should know by now.

"You don't have to do that," Steve murmured, but it was clear that the idea pleased him. "It would probably be a lot cheaper than getting all that stuff to-go, though," he acknowledged. Yes, he may have money now, enough to buy what he wanted and not have to worry about running out, but it was still a constant thing on his mind, and probably would be for a while.

Moving on to the bread, Steve untied the bag and pulled a handful of slices out. "Do they still say something's the greatest thing since sliced bread?" he questioned aloud, getting the condiment jars and starting to apply butter to a few slices, before getting the mustard. "I remember when they first started slicing bread before selling it, everyone thought it was amazing. And then suddenly all these modern conveniences and new inventions were being called 'the greatest thing since sliced bread.'"

He found himself more at ease with asking her questions like this, especially since they were alone, not surrounded by people. He hadn't realized just how much being physically intimate with someone would change things, but at least right now, he wasn't embarrassed asking her about something he didn't know. "They tried banning it during the war, too," he continued. "Said something about the wrapping had to be thicker for sliced bread than unsliced, to keep it fresh, and it was a drain on needed resources. They even told bakeries with their own slicing machines that they had to stop using them. Only lasted a few months, though, finally the higher-ups came out and said 'actually, it doesn't save as much resources as we expected, and there's plenty of paper ready for it already, so yeah, go ahead and start selling it again.'"

The only thing that would have stopped her from cooking for Steve would have been if he really didn't like the idea, but the fact that it so clearly pleased him had her already planning out the things she could make. Good southern-style fried chicken, Cajun jambalaya, and all sorts of casseroles... Hearty home cooking to help take care of that appetite of his.

She listened to him talk and marveled yet again at the fact that he really had lived so long ago, long enough to have seen such monumental changes to the everyday lives of Americans. "It's still strikes me as strange sometimes when I think about all that you got to see and experience back then, and yet you're here now with me," she commented, loosening her arms a little so she could slip around to his side, still wrapped around him and with her hand over his heart, but able to look up at that handsome face now.

"I have some memories from back then, but most of them are from Erik during the war in Europe," she admitted, pressing another kiss to his upper arm, lightly and quickly so as not to bother what he was working on. "They do still say that, though, about sliced bread. It's more common in the older generations, but it still comes up in everyday conversation, even when people don't known the significance of it."

Steve glanced over at her, eyebrows raised a little when she talked about it being strange to her how old he really was ─ although she was much more polite about it, and he knew she didn't mean it like that, anyway. He smiled some, feeling strangely at peace with the whole thing for once, finally. "It's a lot to take in," he said, putting it very mildly; obviously he was still having issues with it at times, and he was the one living it. He couldn't imagine someone else trying to really understand what he was going through.

The older generation. Steve gave an amused half-smile to that. He wondered idly what other things had made it through the generations, that weren't even pop culture anymore, but just a part of every day life and speech. There were so many things he didn't recognize or understand, he hadn't really stopped to notice the things he really did. (Except for Tony's Wizard of Oz reference on the helicarrier.)

Quiet for a bit, just enjoying the moment, Steve started assembling one sandwich, then another. On the third one, he started hesitantly, "Do─ would you─ who was he?" he finally settled on. "Erik. He's... one of your─people?" He did not want to call them voices in her head, partly because that made her sound crazy, and he knew she wasn't; but also because, to her, they weren't just voices, but whole personas, whole people, with their own thoughts and ideas. They just happened to be connected to her mental party-line, that was all.

He also didn't want her to feel like she had to tell him anything more than she felt comfortable with, but he was starting to understand that Rogue wouldn't mention something, if she didn't mind talking about it, at least a little bit. Asking who Erik was gave her the chance to decide how little or much she felt like divulging.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 8 of 16

The Sweet Gestures Meme

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject