The tale of a cat lover and book enthusiast

Jamie. 21. History major at FSU. Punk ass book jockey. Foster mom to several cats. Ace spectrum.



All evening, Steve catches sight of Tony staring absently into a glass that never seems empty. Whether his friend is drinking too much or only pretending to, Steve doesn’t know. He does know that the absentee expression disappears as soon as someone approaches and Steve tucks the knowledge away to bring up later, when everyone is home and they’re not being watched by society.

The next time Steve searches for Tony through the mingling crowd of tuxes and dresses, he notices that the billionaire is missing. There’s no moment of panic as Tony always makes a random escape, the pressing, simpering adulation even too much for Iron Man once in awhile. So instead, Steve makes a polite excuse to the senator he was speaking with and exits the main ballroom.

There are less people here, only a handful stretched along the dim hallway. As he walks away from the grand doors, the, frankly sometimes, overwhelming music begins to fade away. It’s soon replaced though by something different, softer, yet grander still for all of that.

Steve smiles to himself, the notes picked out fluently and so easy and much more pleasing to his ears. The piano was always a soft spot as his mother had once tried to teach him. He hadn’t picked it up then, but he knows it would be all too easy now.

He follows the almost-haunting melody, a song he isn’t sure he knows, to the far end of the hall and a door that is slightly ajar. He pushes the door open, resting against the jamb, and there. That same glass of liquor, shining crystalline amber atop the piano and shimmering lightly as Tony’s fingers sweeps over the keys. 

Steve watches him, watches the bowed head, the closed eyes, the breathing that was slightly faster than normal. His gaze tracks over Tony, over the crisp white shirt that covers lean muscles, down to the expensive jacket that lies over the bench beside him.

And Steve understands. As would the rest of their team. Everyone has moments like these where they just need to be alone, need to express themselves in some way that can bleed out their anxiety, their worry, their demons. Tony, sometimes most of all. Oh, how Steve understands.

He watches and listens, knows that Tony’s melody is telling a story. A story that he can’t tell any other way. It makes something ache fiercely in Steve’s chest. As the music swells and Tony’s jaw clenches, visible to Steve even at his distance, the moment suddenly feels too intimate, too personal for Steve to be bearing witness to. 

He backs quietly out of the room, resetting the door to slightly ajar, and is already walking away as the song fades and the story ends. 

The next morning when Steve gathers his gym bag, a little scrap of paper sits atop it. Steve recognizes Tony’s scrawl ‘Wesley - Dark Night of the Soul’ and he already knows what song it is when he loads it on his music player for his jog. 

Steve isn’t the only perceptive one on the team.




onemuseleft flange5 dashokeypokey snoozingcat 

I keep trying to talk to this girl from daytime that works with me some nights and she just doesn’t respond at all. Who wouldn’t want to talk about baby cats? I don’t understand. 

Alright I’ve somehow made it to midnight. Two more hours and I can go home and sleep all day. Just two hours. I can do this. As long as no is mean to me because if they are I WILL cry. 

They called me in early to work because two other supervisors were out, but then one showed up at the same time I did. So I could have stayed home and slept. Instead, I am now at the point where I want to sleep so badly that I am on the verge of crying. 

Well the girl I’ve been seeing left this morning for a week long conference in VA. Luckily I have a ton of shit to do so I won’t have time to miss her (too much anyway). 


Nintendo’s sales haven’t been what they hoped for or expected, so all the executives got together and made the decision to cut their salaries in half to ensure their employees still get paid. They say it’s the fault of the executives that the products aren’t selling well, not their employees, so it isn’t fair for the employees to have to take the hits for that.

Why are there people who don’t like or respect Nintendo again?


The real reason Bucky left (original caps)

Well I guess it’s a good thing I do my best writing when I’m tired as fuck because I haven’t slept properly in two days and I probably won’t get any decent sleep until early Tuesday morning. I have to write this paper tonight after work and hopefully get a little nap in before class. 



Yeah idk friend. This dude has been creepily hitting on me and shit since I moved in there. It’s really weird. Like every time I would leave in the afternoons he would ask where I was going and shit. Super creep. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with him anymore. 

On another note, I am super duper excited about this new place and you’ll see what I mean soon it’s great and quiet and awesome. Yeah. 

So creepy dude from my apartment complex came to the library today and while he was checking stuff out at another desk, he noticed me and asked if I was staying at the apartment. I said no, I’m moving to which he asked where I was moving. Like, dude, I don’t know you and it’s none of your business where I’m moving. Leave me alone. I have literally never had any desire to talk to him and I’ve made it clear but he just doesn’t give up.