fateandfortune | The Sweet Gestures Meme

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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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something Steve would learn about Rogue before too long: If you left her alone with a problem, she was going to fix it whether you liked it or not. In this case, that had meant a little grocery shopping.

"I wouldn't say I stocked it," she replied with an overly innocent smile. "I just bought a few things to cook with. So we wouldn't starve." Was that a bit of teasing in there? Oh, yes.

It was something he was becoming familiar with, along with her penchant for making promises with very large clauses that allowed her to pretty much do what she wanted, even if he thought it was too much. She had a way with words, did Rogue, and it was both exasperating and delightful to him.

"So we wouldn't starve," Steve repeated drily. "Nice. Alright then, kitchen lady," he teased back, "sounds like you're running the show, so I'll have what you're having." Probably about three times as much, but that was about normal for him compared to how much other people ate, anyway.

His reasoning was two-fold: she'd said she'd eat with him, so if she made what she wanted to eat, she'd be more likely to eat more. And he'd eat about anything anyway, but he was confident in her cooking skills by this point.

Rogue would never do anything she knew he really didn't want her to, but if it was just that he didn't want her to go to any trouble, then she felt free to disregard that concern in most circumstances. She wanted to do these things, and so she felt that he didn't need to worry quite so much about it.

And oh, it was hilarious when he took that dry tone with her. She wanted to give him all sorts of other occasions to speak to her that way, because it was so perfectly Steve.

"Omelets it is, then," she decided with a satisfied grin, before scooting around him on the bed to slide off and carefully stand. "Come on, you," she urged, grabbing his hand to tug him along.

Steve couldn't stop a goofy grin from spreading as she started tugging at him; he let her lead him through the apartment, but gently came to a stop just as they reached the kitchenette area. He drew his arm back, pulling her toward him, and kissing her for a moment.

"Have I mentioned lately, I love you?" he murmured, stealing another kiss.

She could kiss him all day and never tire of it. Well, her lips might get tired after a while, but it would be so very worth it.

"Mmm, once or twice," she answered with a playful smile, "but I can always stand to hear it again. Especially since I love you too." And she loved to tell him. She would tell him everyday for the rest of their lives, just because she could.

One more kiss - no, really - and Steve let her go, starting to move to the island before turning back to Rogue with a confused, slightly sheepish look on his face. "Should─ do I need to show you where anything is?" Or have you already looked around and know where it is? was heavily implied, though only teasingly. He'd known as soon as he'd shown her the kitchen that it was going to be Rogue's domain when she was at his place; her buying food she could cook with just reinforced the notion.

The only problem he had with Rogue buying food was, well, spending her money on something for his apartment. Something that was going to be there, being used by him, even when she wasn't.

Clearly, the only way to remedy that was to get her to eat as much as possible before she went home.

Rogue laughed at his question, and even more so at the implication it presented. Oh, Steve. He was entirely correct that the kitchen was now her space, and she fully intended on settling into it a little more each time she visited him. It was only because she knew he would let her that she even considered it, though.

"I'll manage just fine, sugar," she informed him with amusement, before pointing toward the living room. "I left a bag on the coffee table, why don't you go see what's in it?" She hoped he was pleased with her choice. Something told her that he would really enjoy Aladdin. Hopefully he had a DVD player somewhere, but there were ways to solve that problem if not.

Worried about what she had bought - her wording meant it could have been anything - Steve dutifully moved into the living room area and picked up the plastic bag, frowning slightly at the slim size and shape of the object inside. It was the size of a small book, but he didn't think that's what it was...

Steve pulled out a box that he finally recognized as a DVD case, with a collage of characters in predominantly purple and blue colors: a boy and girl (he hesitated in calling them a man and woman) sitting on... a carpet? A rather ominously thin and evil-looking man on the right, and over the couple, and floating over them all, behind the name of the movie, was what Steve assumed was a genie. Because the movie was titled "Aladdin," created by Walt Disney.

He couldn't have stopped the grin from covering his face if he'd tried. This was fantastic. Still, he couldn't stop himself from giving Rogue a little bit of a hard time. Turning, still with the smile plastered on his face, he asked, "What makes you think I have a DVD player to watch this on, anyway?"

Rogue heard the rustle of the bag as she got out the ingredients she would need for breakfast. Eggs, cheese, bell peppers, potatoes... She was going to make them southwest omelets with seasoned fried potatoes. (The more flavorful the food was, the easier it was for her to eat it.)

She turned to look at Steve when he spoke, and lord but that grin he wore. It was like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Well, if you don't, we can go get one," she informed him with an easy shrug. "They're not all that expensive anymore, and it's worth it if you want to watch more Disney."

Steve laughed, a loud, boisterous thing, sounding just like what it was: all of the joy and happiness that he just couldn't contain, and had to let out, or he felt he might burst from it.

"No, it's fine. I actually have one." He made a wry, amused face. "It's just still in the box, on a shelf in the closet. Never needed it before now." Yet another apartment-warming gift. He thought maybe it was also from Natasha, but he couldn't be sure, because it had just shown up, and everyone had claimed it wasn't from them. Of all his friends, he thought only Natasha would 1: get him something so "modern", obviously trying to get him to join the new millenium, yet not fess up to it, and 2: be a good enough liar that he couldn't tell when he asked who it was from.

He moved to the little side closet where his linens were kept and pulled the box off the top shelf. He was a little ashamed at seeing the layer of dust that had already accumulated on it, from sitting undisturbed for over a month. Bringing it back out into the living room, he sat on the sofa and started opening the box and pulling things out.

"I hope you know how to set one of these up," he muttered, loud enough for Rogue to hear. "Because there's a lot of cords here." They were color-coded, which he figured if he'd been born in the last 30 years, might actually make sense to him. As it was, neither red nor yellow seemed like colors he wanted to do anything with.

Lord, she loved hearing him laugh like that. If she could bottle the sound of that laugh, she would listen to it everyday, because it was so glorious. As it was, she'd just have to be more determined in her efforts to make sure he had reason to laugh like that all the time.

Rogue watched him go to retrieve the box and got her potatoes ready, washing and cutting them into smaller pieces. She heard his muttering as he'd intended and couldn't stop her own grin in response. "I'll be over there in just a minute," she told him. "It's really not all the difficult once you know how."

The potatoes went into a skillet with some oil and a good dose and seasoning and then she left them to start cooking, moving into the living room. She paused beside Steve on the couch, taking a look at the provided cords, and then stepped over to the television to peer at the sides and back. "Oh yeah, this isn't that bad."

Watching Rogue inspecting the television, Steve turned back to the instruction manual he'd found, his eyebrows raised and face clearly conveying Okay, if you say so. Even the instructions, with accompanying diagrams, looked kinda complicated. He was sure even if she weren't there to help him, he'd be able to figure it out; but, he was man enough to admit that with her help, he was sure there'd be a lot less swearing involved in the whole process than otherwise.

"Okay," Steve started, staring at the diagram, "I think I kinda--" he was cut off, as quickly and effectively as if an air raid siren had sounded, by the notes of a song suddenly blaring from his pocket. The opening chords of Star Spangled Man sounded as crisp and vibrant as when he'd been performing with a live band backing him. Steve grabbed for his pocket, and barely glanced at the caller ID before sliding his finger to answer the call. "Hello?"

His face went from anticipatory, to something Rogue might not be able to easily interpret. His expression softened into affection, with a deep sadness layered underneath it. "Hi. I wasn't expecting to hear from you today. Hang on, just a second."

Pulling the phone away from his face for a moment, he looked at Rogue and made an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, I... I have to take this. I'll be back out as soon as I can."

Heading toward his studio, his voice drifted back out into the living room. "Excuse me? Wow, you've become downright nosy in your years, haven't you? Pry into my love life some other time, why are you calling?" His words were all said with humor and affection.

Rogue glanced over at the unexpected song that was apparently Steve's ringtone. She'd heard that song, and oh was she going to tease him about it mercilessly. But not now, not when he suddenly had that look that she couldn't quite understand. There was affection there, and something else.

She nodded as he excused himself, just giving him an understanding smile and watching as he went. Another woman might be suspicious and jealous of a phonecall like that, but Rogue didn't expect Steve to lay his entire life out in front of her, or take the time to explain when whoever was on the other end of the line was clearly someone important to him, given the way the conversation continued.

It was intriguing, to say the least, but she decided that she'd wait for him to tell her and wouldn't pry - if he didn't want her to know anything about it, then that was fine too. So she set about setting up the DVD player, connecting the cords to their color-coded positions and getting it into place while she waited for him to return.

As Steve was starting to close the door to the bedroom-turned-artist's studio, Peggy asked mischievously, "Steve, are you stepping out on me?"

His hand spasmed on the wood of the door, even as his heart felt like it was being squeezed in his chest; but Steve smiled and teased back, "Don't be ridiculous. You know you'll always be my girl." He gently latched the door (glad to see he hadn't damaged the wood), and took a seat at his desk.

"Captain Rogers, you are too charming by half. And I'm far too old for you."

"Well, if we're going by date of birth..." This was not the conversation he wanted to be having. He felt ugly even thinking it, but he didn't really want to be talking to Peggy at all. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her - but every time he did, he was reminded of the gulf between them that time had rendered.

Peggy, thankfully, saved him from having to try and steer the conversation around. "Yes, speaking of dates of birth. Happy belated birthday! I meant to call you yesterday to give my well wishes, but any sort of upset in routine throws everything around here into chaos. There was a barbecue, and then fireworks, and by the time I remembered, it was much too late to disturb you."

Steve couldn't stop his mind from flashing over the events of last night, and was immensely glad she hadn't called. Because even if he hadn't answered, it would have put a complete damper on the rest of the evening. At least his nightmare had waited until afterward to bring the mood down, and even then it was only temporarily.

"Thank you, very much Peggy. I appreciate the thought." He hesitated only slightly before continuing, "And of course, I always love hearing your voice."

"You flatterer. You are a dangerous man, Steve Rogers. Doubly so because I know you'll deny having any powers of charm."

"I don't!" he protested automatically, which in turn made Peggy laugh. Even as he reflexively smiled at hearing it, Steve bent his head and covered his face with his free hand.

Rogue was just settling the DVD player onto the shelf below the TV when something in Steve's distant voice caught her attention and made her go still. "...you'll always be my girl." It was stupid, she knew it was wrong to even think it, but her heart hammered in her chest and she was standing before she knew it, bare feet padding across the floor to bring her closer to his studio door. It was closed now, and she knew she shouldn't be listening, but she didn't get that close--

"I always love hearing your voice."

Her throat tightened and she could barely breathe. Logic told her it wasn't at all what those treacherous voices were suggesting, and the protective ones echoed that reasoning, but that didn't stop the gnawing fear in her stomach. The anxiety, the doubt that he didn't deserve. Turning away from the door, she forced herself back to the kitchen -- the potatoes needed turning.

They spoke for several more minutes, discussing the fireworks (which Steve hadn't gotten a chance to see, but he wasn't about to explain that to Peggy), and reminiscing over several things, before Peggy exclaimed "Oh! Speaking of, that's why I called, to wish you a happy birthday! Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Y-yeah, yes, I did, very much. Thanks, Peggy." He couldn't quite hide the tremor of emotion in his voice, but hoped the distortion of the digital phone would hide it enough that she wouldn't notice. ...if she'd even realize what it was, at this moment in time. Sometimes, even over the phone, Peggy was sharp as a tack. And at others... she forgot what was said three minutes earlier. At least today, she seemed to know what year it was, and what was happening in the world, even if she couldn't remember the conversation clearly at times.

"Listen, Peggy..."

"You have to go, and continue entertaining your lady friend," she interrupted, sounding sweetly condescending.

"I never said it was a lady I was entertaining," he said wryly - then realized how his words sounded, even before Peggy started laughing. "That's not--!"

"Just go, Steve. Let an old woman dream for a while."

"You're not--" old he started to automatically protest. But she was; and the problem was, he kept forgetting that, because she was still so full of life, and still so Peggy - and then he'd be reminded, and his heart would break all over again.

"Happy birthday, Steve," she said gently, and this time he knew, could hear that she remembered saying it earlier, and was merely repeating it again; there was also an apology in her voice, and he suspected she knew she'd been repeating herself more than she realized. She knew he was hurting, and she was sorry. But like himself, she wasn't quite sorry enough to sever their ties with each other.

"I love you, Peggy," he said, almost whispering it, not sure she'd even be able to hear him over the phone. It wasn't some grand romantic love, but it was stronger than mere friendship; it just was, and age had nothing to do with it.

"I love you too, darling," she murmured. And then the sound of the phone changed, and he knew she'd hung up first. She always did, because he could never bear to be the one to say goodbye first, even if they never actually said goodbye at all.

Steve bit his lip... and then his face crumpled, and he began sobbing.

Rogue finished up the potatoes and moved on to the eggs, frying a few bell peppers to add to the omelets with a healthy dose of cheese and salsa. Everything was done fairly quickly, and she realized as the last omelet finished that she should have waited to cook the eggs until Steve had finished his call, because she had no idea how long he'd be. Her anxiety was still there, pushed as deep down as she could get it, and as she turned off the burner she decided she'd just check real quick to see if he was still talking. That was all.

So she walked back over to the door, catching the sound of a low response from Steve that she couldn't quite understand and then... Rogue pressed a hand over her mouth and she was torn for half a second on what to do. Should she leave him behind that closed door, alone, to deal with whatever this was? She hadn't even consciously made the decision before she was opening the door and stepping inside, hesitantly moving closer to Steve with concern written across her face.

"Steve..." It was barely a murmur, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and make whatever was upsetting him disappear. But she had to give him the choice. "I'll go if you'd rather be alone..."

He probably should've been surprised when Rogue entered the room just as he broke down, but all he felt was a sudden surge of gratitude. He shook his head when she suggested leaving him alone, because that was suddenly the absolute last thing he wanted. He reached out and pulled her toward him, arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face against her stomach. He couldn't calm himself down enough to even begin to explain what was wrong; he would, eventually, tell her, but for now, he just needed her here, present and tangible, a reminder that everything wasn't hopeless for him anymore.

When Steve's arms wrapped around her, her own went around him in return, looping over his shoulders, one hand rubbing small circles on his back while the other smoothed over his hair. Her heart broke with every second his crying continued, but she knew she had to stay strong for him. He had been her steady rock before, and now she would be his, for however long he needed.

"Shhhh," she murmured soothingly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "It's alright, sugar. Whatever it is, you don't have to deal with it on your own." She hoped the quiet words would help, if he even heard them. It was just so important in that moment for him to know that she was there if he needed her.

Steve couldn't have let go of Rogue even if the building started toppling down around them. He couldn't stop crying, and it felt as if he were releasing 70 years' worth of sadness and frustration, all at once. He was finally properly mourning what he'd lost, because now he finally knew, thanks to Rogue, what he might have been able to have with Peggy. Before, it had only been romantic, wishful thinking and fantasies... and while he and Rogue had fallen quickly into this relationship, and it was still so very new, it was still more real than anything he'd experienced before.

He didn't even try to understand how he could be so thankful for this thing with Rogue, and still so painfully broken up over what he could've had with Peggy. He just let the feelings wash over him, released in a torrent of tears and harsh, broken sobs, muffled against the now-damp material of Rogue's shirt.

Finally, the tears began to dry up, and Steve sniffed, pulling back to wipe his finger under his nose. "Your food's gonna get ruined," he finally said. As first words of explanation went, they did absolutely nothing but postpone the inevitable. And that wasn't what he was trying to do; he wanted to explain this to Rogue. But it was also ingrained in him to never waste food, and he wanted her to eat. Frankly, after all that crying, plus his run earlier, he really needed to eat, too. His head was beginning a gentle throb from the crying, and he knew low blood sugar was exacerbating it.

Rogue didn't make any move to let Steve go or stop her soothing motions while he cried, and if anything she held him a little tighter as time passed. Whatever had started the tears, she had a feeling that it was more than that now. She knew what it was to lose your entire world, the kind of pain and grief that caused, and she had a strong feeling that was at least part of what this was. That he was letting her see it, letting her witness him in this state... well, it meant something to her and to what their relationship was, and she was grateful for it.

When he pulled back and mentioned the food, she smiled softly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Come on, handsome," she told him quietly. "Let's get you cleaned up and fed, and we can talk while we eat. If you want. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Steve, but if you do, I'll listen."

Steve nodded, swiping at his nose again, then running his knuckles against his cheeks and eyes to brush away any remaining tears. He knew he had to look a mess, with red blotches on his cheeks and nose and rimming his eyes - something the serum hadn't fixed, for whatever reason. But he just didn't care at the moment. Rogue had seen him cry before, and, if they continued together for as long as he hoped, she would surely see him cry again. If the worst of him that she ever saw was him crying and looking less than perfect, Steve was more than okay with that.

Standing up, Steve had to pause for a moment while the throbbing in his head grew stronger, before subsiding again. "Kinda groggy," he said, his words slurring just the slightest bit. "Prob'ly won' be able to tell ya much until after I've eaten somethin'." A blanket of calm and apathy had fallen over him, and his accent had thickened even as his words had slowed down.

Never once did he consider hiding this from Rogue. There was no reason to hide it, and it wasn't doing him any good keeping it to himself anyway. He'd always had a confidant to share his thoughts, feelings and fears with. Usually it had been Bucky, or his mother before she had passed on. Now the person he was closest to, the only one he could imagine sharing these things with, was Rogue. He knew she had her own share of sadness and pain to deal with, but he was more than willing to do whatever he could to help her, even if it was just listening and easing her fears, and this was the same, in reverse. Plus, indirectly it involved her, since it concerned his last "relationship", that he was still processing; she deserved to know.

Pushing his hand against his nose once more, he moved toward the bathroom, hoping some cold water would make him feel at least a little more alert.

Even though the sight of Steve crying tore her up inside, Rogue would gladly stay with him for each and every agonizing minute and never once complain. She was fully intending to be with him for the long haul, however long that might manage to be for them, and that meant taking the good moments with the bad and all the in-between.

The way his accent got a little stronger was adorable, and she felt a twinge of guilt for thinking it when he'd had to go through pain to get there. She walked with him toward the bathroom, keeping a hand gentle but firm against his back until they reached the door. Giving one last soft rub, she told him, "I'll go finish getting things ready. Take all the time you need, sugar."

She'd head back to the kitchen if he didn't ask her to stay, make up their plates with the omelets and potatoes (his with much larger portions), and start the coffee in the pot that had never been used. The carton of orange juice would go on the table with glasses, as well. But if he asked her to stay, she would, of course. Always.

Steve didn't think of asking her to stay with him while he washed up; he needed just a few moments to himself, to try and settle back into the here and now, and get his thoughts moving again. But as he automatically turned on the tap and splashed cool water on his face and neck, he still felt hollow. His thoughts were there, under the surface, but he could reach only the most superficial of things, and didn't have the mental strength to dig deeper for anything else. He glanced in the mirror and just stared at his face for a moment; he didn't feel anything, looking at his reflection gazing tiredly back at him. He noted dimly how he looked, but it was perfunctory and clinical. Just as he'd expected: bloodshot eyes, rimmed in red; bright red blotches across his cheeks and the end of his nose, the rest of his face a wan, almost sickly pinkish-white color under the bright bathroom light.

Moving at what was a slow shuffle for him, Steve ventured out into the living area, through to the kitchen. He sat docilely at the kitchen island, resting his forearms on the edge and leaning his weight heavily on his arms. He reached automatically for the orange juice and poured himself a glass, drinking in small, quick sips, more because he knew he needed it than for any want of it.

When Steve came back to the kitchen, Rogue finally noticed just how the crying spell had changed his appearance. He looked awful, to put it bluntly. She wondered vaguely if that was how she looked after her little breakdowns, but she'd never really taken the time to catalog her appearance and commit it to memory. She did remember how she felt afterward, though - hollow and disconnected, completely apart from life around her.

Setting the plates of food on the table, she stopped to stand beside Steve's chair, a hand going to his back again to smooth a gentle circle over it. She didn't want to crowd him, but she wanted to offer what comfort she could. "The food will help, sugar," she told him softly, leaning in just a little closer. "I promise, you'll feel at least a little better after eating something."

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