#ITS TWO AM TAKE THE ADO POST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

Text

You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year.

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. Part 2 linked HERE and also at the end of the post.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female

The End

Time.

It was a fickle thing. In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. A mere twelve months earlier, you had been living a different life. The only life you had been responsible for was your own. And your plants, but…they never seemed to last that long under your care. Now, everything was different.

It was the day before your birthday. Your twenty-fifth birthday, which, in the world you lived in, meant that tomorrow, a name would appear on your wrist, the name of your soulmate. It had been stressing you out all day, the weight of tomorrow and everything it meant.

It was late, and you were exhausted from a day of overthinking. The longer you stayed up, the longer you delayed the inevitable reveal, and thinking about it too much made you nervous, so you just decided to get to sleep sooner than later.

It was once you were just about to climb into bed that there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You called. The door opened slowly, revealing Steve, who was leaning in your doorway, arms crossed, that pensive look in his blue eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He seemed nervous, although you weren’t sure why.

“Everything alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came in here to check on you. Wanda said you were…quiet.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You hugged your arms around your frame and bit your lip, looking up at the super soldier standing in front of you. “Just…I don’t know. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for my entire life, but…now that it’s here, I’m so scared.”

“Hey, come here.” He said, pulling you to him, strong arms wrapped around you, as if he could protect you from the future itself.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“(Y/N), whoever they are, they are incredibly, incredibly lucky. You don’t need to worry about anything. It’ll all work out. It always does.” He said it like he was certain. Like somehow he knew what would happen in the morning when suddenly your life was turned on its head and you had to venture out to find your other half.

Since you’d met him, Steve wore a leather band around his wrist, covering his soulmate’s name. You’d figured he must have met them in the forties and…maybe they hadn’t made it long enough to see him come out of the ice. But you didn’t ask about it. You never dared to put that question into words. He’d been through enough heartbreak already.

“What if they don’t like me…?”

He scoffed, holding you tighter. “That’s impossible. They’re going to love you. So much. I promise.”

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

Steve pulled away, looking down at you, a hand very carefully touching your cheek. “Of course we will still be friends. Nothing is ever going to change that. I promise.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Good. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

He gently wiped the tear away, the pad of his thumb warm. Once he was sure you were okay, he let go, looking at you with that knowing sparkle in his eye once more. He took a little extra time to look at the shirt you were wearing, the Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

“Ma’am? Are you alright? Ma’am?” The voice sounded far away. You were pretty sure you were still dreaming. You opened your eyes slowly and immediately became aware of the pounding pain in your head.

“Ow, oh my God.” You reached up and felt there, but it didn’t feel like you were bleeding or anything.

“Ma’am?”

You froze for a second, slowly looking up at the figure standing above you, confusion written all over his familiar features. It took you a long moment to put the pieces together. You were on a porch somewhere in what appeared to be New York, but it was…different. A lot different than the parts of the city you knew. Alright, it had to be a dream.

You looked up at the man standing above you and did a double-take. But no, it was him. It was a tiny, frail version of Steve. Your eyebrows furrowed and you sat up slowly, staring at him for a long moment before whispering, “Steve?”

His mouth opened and then shut again and he made a face of confusion, like he was trying to place where he knew you from, but he didn’t know you yet, and wouldn’t know you for several more years, to say the least. “Do I know you?”

“It’s complicated.” You exhaled. “Can we go inside? You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dumbfounded, Steve nodded and you stood up from the porch, only to find that he was at your eye level when you did. Weird. He led you into the small apartment and you looked around. It was quaint. There was an easel in the corner of the room and…Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch? You stared at him for a good, long moment, a shiver running down your spine.

“Who’s the dame?” He read your shirt. “What is Star…Wars…?”

“About to find that out myself.” He chuckled, leading you into the living room. “Buck, could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Bucky got up and walked to the other half of their tiny two-bedroom.

You sat down on the couch and so did he. The silence was thick. You thought for several moments. You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up in the 1940s. You looked down at your hands and it was then that your gaze finally landed on the writing on your wrist. And then everything made sense.

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

“July 4th…” You whispered. “What, 1943?”

You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes before he replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, happy birthday, first of all. And second of all…” You held up your wrist so he could read it. Steve’s eyes went wide and he stared at the three words written neatly on your skin in his own handwriting.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“You’re my…” He looked at you for a long time, his eyes wide. He hastily undid the cuff around his wrist and held it out to you, your own name written there. He ran a finger across the letters, as if to prove they were really there.

“I’m your soulmate.” You said certainly.

It hit you like a truck, then. The weird look on your Steve’s face, the way he was so certain that everything would work out. It was because he had already lived through this. And that meant that in all the time he’d known you, he’d been hiding his mark not because his soulmate had died, but instead because you were his soulmate and you didn’t know it yet.

Your entire year of friendship, of memories, of roadtrips and missions and movie marathons…he had known the whole time. And that look in his eyes wasn’t just his protective side coming out. It was love. It had been love the whole time.

Oh.

Steve exhaled a long, shaking breath, really taking you in. Once again, he had a million stars in his eyes. He let out a whispered, “Wow,” as tears began to form.

You came back down to earth. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, sniffling as a tear ran down his cheek. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot of…health problems, so I wasn’t sure if I’d ever…meet you. And you’re here and you’re great and I just…I’m sorry.”

That brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, Steve…” You pulled him into your arms and he didn’t hesitate to surrender to your embrace, his arms wrapping tight around you and holding you close, head nestled into the crook of your neck. “Just breathe. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Always.

He took your advice, doing his best to avoid an asthma attack on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life. Once he finally caught his breath, he pulled away to look at your face again. “I have to ask…How did you know?”

“I don’t know if you can tell from these clothes,” you motioned down to the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing, “but I’m not from around here, exactly.”

“I kind of thought so, but I didn’t want to be rude.” He smiled softly. “Um, where are you from, then?”

“I’m from the future. Like…a while from now. It’s hard to explain why or how, and I’m not really sure how I got here, to be honest, but I’m glad I am.” You sighed, thumb grazing his cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned at your touch. “I don’t know how long we have before I have to go back.”

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

“You are. It’s complicated. We’re really good friends and…when I get back, I’m sure we’ll probably be even more than that.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked, trying out your name for the first time.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out today, show you a good time here before you have to go back.” He took your hand and carefully laced his fingers through your own, testing the weight of it, the feel of it.

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Not to eavesdrop, lovebirds — congratulations, by the way — but if you’re going to take her out, we’re going to need to find her some clothes that aren’t so…‘not from around here.’” Bucky leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call one of my girls and we’ll get her squared away. Sit tight.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, chuckling when his eyes widened after you addressed him by name. “I know you, too. From the, uh, future.”

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

“Long story?” Steve asked, studying the look on your face.

“Very.” You agreed. After staring at him for another long moment, you pulled him back into your arms again, exhaling a long breath before whispering, “Steve, I’m so glad it’s you…”

***

“Wow.” You stared at yourself in the mirror, studying the way Bucky’s, ahem, lady friend, had curled your hair, done your makeup. You did a little twirl and relished in the way the skirt of your dress twirled. It was navy blue, short ruffled sleeves with a flared skirt and buttons down the front. “I think it suits me.”

“I agree. Blue is a good color on you.” Steve was sitting in a chair at the edge of the room, absolutely enamored as he watched you. “Although, I’m sure they’re all good colors on you, doll.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He stood up and walked to you, slipping one of his hands into each of yours and staring into your eyes, looking at the way you looked standing next to him in his reflection. His soulmate. The kind of girl people write poems about. “You look great.”

“I don’t look out of place?”

“No one is gonna think you’re a time traveler. Well, unless you tell them.” Bucky said. “Maybe don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it.” You chuckled and gave Steve’s hands a squeeze. “Where to first, soulmate?”

His cheeks reddened as soon as you said the word. “Well, I was thinking we could go to my favorite little diner down the street to grab something for lunch, and then maybe we could take a walk through the park, catch a movie, and then go out for drinks tonight?”

“What, you aren’t gonna take her dancing?” Bucky teased, ruffling Steve’s hair under a large hand. “Show the girl a good time?”

“I would if I didn’t have two left feet.” Steve chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. He looked at you, waiting for some kind of response. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

The two of you left the apartment not long after that, and walked side by side towards the diner. Your hands were swinging in the space between you and your hand brushed Steve’s once, twice, a third time, and then you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

You caught him smile out of the corner of your eye. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” He grinned and chuckled to himself. “You can hold my hand as much as you want, doll.”

When the two of you finally got to the diner, a little bell rang over your heads and you got seated at a booth by the window. The two of you ordered drinks and you skimmed the menu while you waited.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, resting your chin against your fist and looking over at Steve. You studied the way his blue, blue eyes flicked up to your own and the blush that covered his cheeks shortly thereafter.

“You probably know a lot of it already.” He chuckled. “Unless we don’t talk a lot?”

“We talk quite a bit, but I still want to know about this you. Here and now.”

“I like art. Drawing and painting and stuff.” He said. “I haven’t had time to do much lately, but I’d like to get back into it.”

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I could, uh, show you sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” You smiled. “What else?”

“I like to read. I like going to Dodgers games with Bucky. One time he took me to Coney Island. I don’t like rollercoasters, but I liked playing the games. He wasted three whole dollars trying to win a teddy bear for a redhead named Dot.”

“Three whole dollars…” You chuckled. “Well you don’t have to worry about the rollercoasters too much, I can’t go upside down without throwing up.”

“That makes two of us. Enough about me, tell me about you.” Steve nudged, his hand slowly moving towards yours. “How do we know each other? When did we meet?”

“We’re…coworkers, I guess you could say. We met about a year back and now we live in the same building? I’m sorry for being so vague, I just—”

“Don’t want to give it away, yeah, I get it.” He nodded, understandingly.

“You took me under your wing as soon as I moved in and really made me feel welcome. You’re the one that brought me onto the team, actually.” You took a sip of your drink. “We’ve been through a lot together already, and I’m sure it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Mmm…” Steve nodded. “I know I just met you, but I’m really glad you and I are close. Well, will be close.” He paused before chuckling and shaking his head. “There’s still some little voice in the back of my head telling me all of this is just some amazing dream.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You chuckled, tucking a piece of curled hair back behind your ear. “I’ve…I’ve had a crush on you forever, Steve. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He stared at you, almost dumbfounded. “O-on me?”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You’d forgotten, you supposed, that Steve had had this phase, the self-depreciation, the insecurity. Your Steve, when complimented, was shy, sure, but you knew he understood what people were talking about. This Steve didn’t see it that way. Not yet. But it would be your job to use your one day with him to change that, to make your soulmate see that he was worthy of love, even self-love. “Yeah, of course on you, Steve. I can’t believe I get to have you.”

His cheeks reddened and he finally took the leap, taking your hand across the table, thumb grazing your knuckles with care. His blue eyes sparkled. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

***

Once the two of you were finished up at the diner, you took a walk through the park. It was gorgeous out, a bright, sunny, warm summer afternoon. Several couples were strolling down the paths, hand in hand, and you were one of them, your hand held tight in Steve’s, his thumb gently stroking the back of yours.

You went to the theater and caught a movie together. Luckily enough, they were showing the Wizard of Oz. Your current situation had you feeling like Dorothy in more ways than one. The movie had only come out four years earlier, which was definitely strange. Not to mention the fact that the tickets were only twenty-five cents, the popcorn a mere ten cents.

And then, once the movie was over and the sun was setting, you went to a bar, where Steve ordered each of you a drink. You took a sip of yours, something sweet, and smiled at him across the table.

“So, how’s your day been, birthday boy?” You asked coyly.

“The best I’ve had so far,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. The sparkle faded, however, when his expression grew somber. He hesitated, but then asked, “Okay, I have to know…How long do I have to wait to see you again?”

You exhaled a long sigh, biting your lip. If you told him the truth, he might ask questions you couldn’t tell him the answers to. And besides, the real answer would require some math. You didn’t know the specifics.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, it’s…it’s a pretty long time.” You thought for a long moment before continuing, “I…I can’t really tell you why. It’s all really complicated, and if I tell you too much, it might not happen the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded and took a sip of his drink. Once he set down the glass, he reached across the table and took your hand. “Well, however long it is,” he looked straight into your eyes and a chill ran down your spine, “It’ll be worth it. Every second. I promise.”

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

“There you two are! I was wondering which bar you’d wandered into!” Bucky was, apparently, already slightly intoxicated as he approached you and Steve with a date of his own. “How was your day on the town, lovebirds?”

“Spectacular.” You replied. “I wish there was more time to soak it in.”

“New York sure is something, huh?” Bucky’s date asked, giggling innocently. If only she knew the half of it.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Steve asked.

“If you don’t mind too much, punk.” Bucky grinned.

Steve got up and switched sides of the booth so he was sitting next to you instead of across from you. You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Did you give the lady her dance, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirking.

“Not yet.” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see. The asthma makes it a bit difficult sometimes.”

“Never seems to stop you from getting into fights.” Bucky muttered, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush.

“Just wait until the band plays something slow,” Bucky’s date pointed out.

“There you go!” Bucky raised his glass to his lips. “Great idea, Maggie.”

“Glad to be of service.”

And so, the four of you chatted until the band started to play something sweet and slow. Steve looked at you for approval and you nodded. He led you out onto the floor with the other couples.

Steve blushed, flustered, and he looked at you before saying, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It’s easy.” You promised, guiding one of his hands to your waist and holding the other. “That’s it. And then we just move to the music. You can twirl me around if you feel so inclined.”

“Alright.” He chuckled, swaying in time with you. “Hey, uh, (Y/N), I need you to know…I had a really, really great time today. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a soulmate and I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you someday, however far away that someday is.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations.” You smiled, tugging him a bit closer.

“No, you exceeded them. You’re better than anything I could have imagined. I’m so lucky.” He paused, and his expression fell a little. “I know I’m a lot. I have a lot of problems and they might complicate things sometimes, but…”

“Steve, you’re perfect.” You shook your head and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “The universe gave you to me for a reason and I’m so, so glad it did. You’re amazing. I can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Can I please kiss you, doll?”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the music swelling around you as you guided his hands to your waist, cupping his cheeks to hold him close to you. When the moment had passed, you rested your nose against his, meeting his eyes and inhaling his scent, committing this version of him to memory before he was reduced to just that, a memory.

“Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.”

You spent the rest of the night together. Twirling across the dancefloor, talking, soaking each other in. But when you reached the front porch of the townhouse, Steve looked back down the steps to find you’d disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of your lips, your laugh, your smile.

“You gonna be alright?” Bucky asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He replied, words swallowed up by the sounds of the night. “Just give me a minute, pal.”

Bucky nodded, solemn. “Take all the time you need.”

The Beginning

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize it right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the local mall.

It had been an uneventful day. He strolled around the perimeter, taking in the storefronts, studying the fashion, browsing the menu of a pretzel place, reading the posters on the exterior of the movie theater, the things that were coming out in the coming months. Nothing interested him in particular. He didn’t really care for war movies.

After a few quiet hours, his peaceful walk was interrupted by screams, people running away at top speed, which, of course, caused him to spring into action, assessing the situation. He ran towards the source of the chaos, scanning, scanning, until his eyes landed on the attacker, a guy with a flamethrower, aimed at a teenage theater employee. Steve hurdled over a trash can, moving people out of the way, directing them to safety and trying to put himself between himself and the mallgoers, but before he could, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands and it slid across the floor to Steve’s feet. He chucked it into the fountain without a second thought, where it fizzled pathetically. The guy lunged at you with heavy metal gauntlets, and you dodged the first swing but caught the second in the face, falling backwards. When you landed, however ungracefully, you sent a blast of energy at the guy, knocking him over a plant and sprawling onto the tile floor.

While the guy was on the ground, Steve tackled him, wrenching the gauntlets off of his hands and chucking them away, too. Soon, the police arrived, apprehending the guy while mall security comforted the distressed mall patrons, ushering them to safety and medical attention.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead. Steve walked over, interested in this superpowered rescuer, someone who wasn’t yet on the Avengers’ radar, but would most definitely be on the news the next day if the sheer amount of phone footage recorded was any indication.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

There you are, doll. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it. I’ve been like this since college.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit we could borrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own, in the room the theater used for birthday parties. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked, trying to sound somewhat indifferent. He couldn’t be, though. Not entirely. Not when it came to you.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity, thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“I don’t know about that. My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was three days later that Nick Fury got in touch with you. You thought it was a scam call at first, but no one else would possibly have the info about you that he did. That was S.H.I.E.L.D. for you, you supposed.

You packed up your apartment, your boxes of books, your old journals, your clothes and makeup, your life, and hopped in the jet that was waiting for you at the meeting place. Inside was a pilot with flaming red hair, Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. It was hard not to get a little starstruck.

She helped you load your things into the jet, let you settle into the copilot seat, and then you took off, soaring away from your old life and towards your new one, the mysterious, magnificent facility tucked into upstate New York, that iconic A emblazoned on the front of the building.

“Steve said you’re telekinetic. That’s cool.” She complimented with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got force-field stuff. I don’t know what else, exactly.”

“Oh, we’ll figure all that out. Banner already has a list of tests he wants to run. Nothing too intense. I made him promise not to give you the lab rat treatment too soon.”

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

“Wanda’s been decorating your room all day. It’s not often we get new blood.”

“I appreciate it. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

The jet landed a little under an hour later and Natasha helped you haul boxes towards the front door, where Steve was waiting. It was like time slowed, that look in his eyes, glistening little stars.

“Come on, Rogers, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves.” Nat waved him over, snapping both of you out of your trance.

“Right, right.” He jogged over. “Is there anything heavy?”

“That one.” You pointed. “It’s got my candles in it.”

“On it.”

You grabbed a few tote bags, slinging your computer bag over your shoulder. A few others came out to help, Clint and Wanda namely, the latter of whom used her shimmering red powers to speed the process along. Were you any more confident in your own powers, you would do the same, but you hadn’t had much opportunity to use them yet, and you didn’t want to drop anything fragile on your first day.

You started unpacking the essentials, your smart speaker, your laptop, some books and your favorite candle. You put some clothes in the dresser, hung some up in the large sliding closet in the wall. Upon further examination, you had your own bathroom, too, which was nice. There was a wall tapestry with sunflowers on it, and several little knickknacks. Wanda’s loving touch.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to find Steve there, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi there, um, just checking in. Figured you might want a tour when you got settled in. No rush, of course.”

“I would love a tour. I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in this place.”

He grinned. “Not on my watch. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Steve walked with you through the office spaces, the computer labs, Bruce’s lab, Tony’s. Tony was in the city, but Bruce was home and introduced himself with a dad joke about the Hulk and a warm handshake. You saw the training facility, a giant room with floor to ceiling windows, a wall of mirrors, practice dummies, landing mats, and plenty of sparring weapons. There was, separately, a fully furnished gym, and then the basics, a large, modern kitchen, living areas and lounges, study spaces, a library, a party room with a bar, and a very fancy coffee machine.

You could see yourself making a home here.

Steve walked you back to the hallway where all the bedrooms were. “If you need anything or have any questions, my room is just down the hall on the left. Wanda is next door. Dinner is at six.”

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You nodded, slowly accepting the fact that you were now on a first name basis with Captain America. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He said, some twinge of nostalgia at the end of his words. You turned back into your room to get some more unpacking done and Steve walked back down the hall, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, doing his best to hold in his tears.

…Ready For It?

You spent the first few days in your room for the most part, unpacking but also hiding, if you were honest. You met Vision. He seemed nice. He also had the ability to phase through walls, apparently. Still no sign of Thor, but you weren’t holding your breath. You were sure he was a busy guy.

Sam Wilson introduced himself with the same offer everyone else had so far, to let them know if you needed anything. You appreciated it.

And then, finally, there was Tony, whose dry humor came across immediately. He sized you up, drilling questions about where you went to college, what you majored in, what your top three movies from the 1980s were. You were pretty sure he liked you, but you didn’t think he trusted you. And that was okay. You knew that was something you’d have to earn around there.

“No soulmark yet, kid?” He asked, eyeing up your bare wrist.

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

“That makes you what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four. As of last month, actually.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’re counting down the days.”

“More or less.” You chuckled, catching Steve watching you out of the corner of your eye. He did that a lot, you noticed.

Before Tony could come up with some witty comeback, the lights flashed red, accompanied by a loud siren.

“Vis? What’s going on?” Tony asked as Vision walked into the room, his sophisticated sweater melting into the uniform you’d seen on the news, red and green with a golden cape.

“There seems to be a stir at the local fairgrounds. Tremors and gunshots. Hostages.”

“Alright, let’s go pay them a visit then.” Tony pressed a button on his watch and transformed into Iron Man in front of your very eyes. “You can stay here or come with us. Up to you. But suit up fast. We’re out in five.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off, but the sirens definitely weren’t helping.

“Stick with me.” Steve instructed, voice calm, confident.

“Okay.” You nodded, following after him, towards the hangar where they kept the jets.

Natasha was standing at a locker, pulling her catsuit on with impressive speed, Clint beside her, loading a quiver with arrows, checking his bow.

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

“Baby’s first mission?” She asked, impressed.

You nodded, waiting for orders.

“Well, it should be an easy one, from the sound of it. Here, put this on. We’ll get you your own gear in the next few weeks.”

She chucked you an extra suit and you did your best to shimmy into it. Surprisingly, you could actually move in it. There were holsters, but you weren’t gun trained, so you figured it was best to leave that to the professionals. Instead, you followed the others onto the jet, hoping your forcefields and blossoming battle instincts would be enough to protect you out there.

***

The fair had devolved quickly into madness. There was fire, screaming, running, and gunshots. You flinched at the onslaught of it, but followed the others out anyway, listening to the voice in your earpiece, Steve’s voice, as he issued orders. You were put on civilian evacuation with Sam while the others engaged with the attackers. Six of them.

You did your job diligently, ushering people to a safe distance while law enforcement arrived. Until one of the attackers engaged with you, however, mistaking you for a civilian. Something snapped. In an instant your flight instinct vanished, replaced with the need to fight. He punched at you and you countered, sweeping a leg under him and then using a forcefield to knock him into the cornfield.

One of them launched a bazooka at Tony while he wasn’t looking, and without a thought, you trapped the explosive in a bubble, forcing it into the air where it exploded harmlessly, away from everyone.

And when the dust settled, the rest of the team turned to look at you, sharing looks with each other.

“Thanks for the save, kid. I owe you one.” Tony complimented, clapping you on the back on his way into the jet. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Your heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, the feeling of a job well done. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, a proud grin. His risk had paid off. You weren’t a total failure.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked, slinging his shield onto his back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, letting the energy fizzle back into your palms.

He watched with interest at the faint crackles of blue that made up your powers. “You did good out there.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks, I—"

“Alright new girl, were are we stopping for food?” Natasha asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I get to pick?” You asked with a laugh.

“And don’t be afraid to pick something fancy. It’s Tony’s treat.” Clint added, walking with the rest of you onto the jet. You strapped in while the others tried their darndest to influence your pick, bickering like siblings. Like your family.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

Your training started shortly after that first mission. Bruce took all your vitals, measured them before, during, and after use of your powers. He recorded said powers with every device known to man until he had your ability down to a science. He had a hunch they were of cosmic origin, but you had no idea when you could have possible come in contact with something like that.

Next came a uniform. At the moment, it was a dark indigo color, something similar to navy blue, but leaning a bit more purple. The chest area was left blank, Tony claiming he’d add a symbol once his graphic design team came up with something. He did add some accents up the arms and down the legs, thin, light blue lines that matched the color of your powers.

Natasha and Clint gave you a few crash courses on weapons and your aim left a bit to be desired, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t bad. Sam put you on a modified military workout regimen to get in shape, get your stamina up with the rest of the team.

You practiced making forcefields, seeing how big you could make them, how small, how much force they could endure before they broke. Natasha shot some bullets at them, and your fields caught them, allowing you to kill their momentum and drop them harmlessly to the ground. They could withstand some electricity, but not Wanda’s powers. And they held against Steve’s superstrength, but not for long. Still, a few hits from a supersoldier was more than most could endure, so it would buy you some time in the field.

Eventually, you moved on from just forcefields and started learning to move objects. It turned out, you were not limited to bubbles. You could create platforms underneath things. This evolved into creating platforms underneath people, that they could jump on, or ride on top of while you moved them.

You practiced using them for transport too, but it was harder standing on them while controlling them, especially if you tried to jump from platform to platform. It was a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy, and it would take a lot of practice.

There weren’t many missions, and the ones that popped up, you didn’t get sent on. They were high level things, and while your powers were improving, and very quickly, Bruce was always quick to reassure you, you weren’t ready for covert ops yet, especially ones that had been months in the making.

Every time Steve got sent off, he left with that sad little half-smile of his, the one where he pressed his lips together, eyes glittering like a lake under moonlight. He’d give you some words of comfort, usually dealing with how short the mission was supposed to be. It didn’t often make you feel better.

Bruce stayed behind with you, most times. More like all of the times. Code Greens, as they were called, were seldom necessary, and besides, as they had learned with Wanda back during the Ultron days, Bruce could be a liability if someone else got in his head. But it was nice not being completely alone in the big empty facility.

“He always looks so sad when he leaves.” You noted, sipping from a mug of warm tea. Steve had left only moments before, the last member of the team that was shipping out.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “Does he?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him that well.” You shrugged, the sounds of Animal Crossing resonating from the TV.

“You know, he has, lately. He didn’t used to.” Bruce noted.

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied absentmindedly. “So explain to me this game?”

“Okay, so you move to this island and have to spend all your money paying off debt to this raccoon…”

It was in another training session that there was a malfunction. A shock grenade went off dangerously close to Sam. Before you could even process what you were doing, your hand shot out, a bright, pulsating star crackling in front of him, another, second star on the other side of the room. Steve assessed the situation and used the shield to knock Sam into the star, neutralizing the grenade right after. There was a bright flash and Sam appeared on the other side of the room, tumbling out of the second star.

You froze, curling your fingers and closing both of them. There was a slight pinch in your shoulder, near the base of your neck. The others all stared.

“Wait, what was that?” Bruce asked over the intercom.

“You did that?” Steve asked, motioning to Sam as he walked over.

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

Natasha asked, looking you up and down. Sam stared at you like you’d sprouted a third eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.” Bruce insisted. “Hang on, I’m coming in there.”

The door from the observation room opened and Bruce joined the rest of you in the circle that was steadily forming, all of them watching you, waiting.

“I don’t know, it was just like…” You focused on that feeling again, the desperation to get Sam the hell away from that grenade, and as though you were punching a hole through reality, it opened in the center of the circle, an eight-pointed star, bobbing and ebbing and flowing, made of the light blue energy you were so familiar with.

Carefully, you opened another one, ten feet in the air above the first. Clint shrugged and chucked a tennis ball into it. Sure enough, it popped up to the second one, before falling down through the first one again. This continued until eventually you closed the bottom one, letting the tennis ball bounce harmlessly across the floor.

“Well shit.”

“Waypoints.” Bruce said, deep in thought. “Teleportation. This…this opens up a lot of doors.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool. Waypoint.” Clint said, drawing attention to it. “What do you think?”

“What, like as a codename?” You asked, weighing it as an option.

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

“Waypoint.” You repeated, trying it out. Hi, I’m Waypoint. I’m an Avenger.

It sounded silly, but it was getting more official by the day. There was, of course, only one way to make it official official, and that was with one of Tony Stark’s famed parties…

Wonderstruck

You let out a sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the big party. Your first, as an Avenger, and the official induction of what Tony was deeming the second class of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Sam: the Falcon, Wanda: the Scarlet Witch, Vision, and You: Waypoint.

He’d gotten you a dress to wear, one that matched your uniform. It was long, sleek, that navy blue/indigo color. It glittered like stars and moved like a dream. And in the middle of it, poised at the base of the sweetheart neckline, was the eight-pointed star that Tony had turned into your symbol.

Your hair and makeup were done, and all that was left was the zipper.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” You called, expecting Natasha or Wanda. Instead, it was Steve, who, when he saw you were unzipped, pulled the door almost all the way closed and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

“Wait, actually, could you help me zip this up? I can’t reach.”

Steve nodded, slowly lowering his hand and entering the room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with a blue tie. His lapel pin looked like a tiny version of his shield.

“Wow…” He murmured, taking you in. “You look great, (Y/N).”

“You think so? I’m not sure blue is really my color…”

He scoffed. “It most certainly is.” He swept the hair off of your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the reflection in the mirror as he gently pulled the zipper higher until it was secure in place. “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah, guess so.” You agreed, nervous energy crackling around your fingers, blue as ever. You dispelled it, snapping out of it.

Steve looked at the two of you in the mirror for a long time before turning towards the door again. Halfway there, though, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flat velvet box. “This is, um…for you.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You reached for it, heart racing. Inside was a necklace, its pendant a silver star with eight points. In the center, an aquamarine gem. You gasped, looking at it. It was beautiful, delicate. “Steve, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said, offering his hand. “May I?”

“Please.” You said, handing him the necklace and moving your hair out of the way. He did the clasp behind your neck. It settled between your collarbones.

“There. Now it’s official.” He whispered.

“Almost.”

“Almost.” Steve agreed, offering you his elbow. “Right this way.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you out into the initial murmurs of the party. What Natasha dubbed the “extended family” had shown up. Rhodey, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and, of course, Thor.

He was a sight, that was for sure. He towered over everyone else at 6’5”, arms the size of tree trunks. It was a bit intimidating to say the very least.

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

“Thor! I didn’t think you were coming.”

He grinned. “I never miss a feast.” His eyes fell on you. “And you must be this new team member Banner spoke of.”

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine.”

“Here.” Natasha handed you a champagne flute. She eyed up your necklace. “That’s cute.”

“Steve gave it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the supersoldier, who still had your arm. “Steve has good taste.”

“Steve had help.” He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“I’d get you one too, Rogers, but Thor has the strong stuff.” Natasha said, patting his other arm while you took a sip of the champagne. It was sweet, tangy. “God’s favorite boy scout has trouble getting drunk.”

“My tolerance is too good.”

“I think we just need to get you a Four Loko. Or two.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“It’s like four drinks in one can. They’re insane. I tried in college, but tapped out halfway through.”

He considered it for a moment, letting out a laugh. “See, that just might work.”

Tony wandered around the lounge, greeting everyone. He looked you up and down. “You look beautiful, Portal Girl.”

You internally chuckled. The others had advised you not to feed his ego when he used his nicknames. “Thank you, Tony.”

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

“You her date tonight?” He asked, motioning to your joint arms.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am.” Steve agreed, not budging. Neither were you.

“Well, I hope you’ve taken some dance lessons since last time, Rogers. I’m sure (Y/N) wouldn’t want to have her feet walked all over.”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes as Tony moved onto his next targets. Sam emerged, looking very sharp in a red suit. Even Vision had dressed up for the occasion, Wanda beside him wearing an elegant red dress. The two of them talked and laughed on the other side of the room and you smiled. You could tell when you moved in that he cared about her.

You wondered if robots could have soulmates, too. If any android had a soul, surely it was Vision. Maybe you’d ask him about it sometime.

Once all of the expected guests were accounted for, Tony did the briefest ceremony in the history of ceremonies, introducing you all to the few members of the press he had allowed to come. You spent the beginning of the evening shaking hands, networking, and then once the strangers left, the real party started.

Nat switched you to something a lot stronger to champagne, and she was running the bar, so it was easy to get refills. Clint and Thor were arm wrestling on one of the tables which was…hilarious, admittedly.

Steve found you after a few hours apart. “Hey, will you be my partner?”

“Sure, for what?”

He laughed, loosening up quite a bit with Thor’s Asgardian mead in his system. “Sam and Bruce are trying to teach me how to play Beer Ball or something.”

“Beer Pong?”

“That one, yeah.” He nodded. “Winners play Clint and Nat.”

“That checks out.” You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m game. I haven’t played since college, though.”

“I haven’t played ever so I’m sure you’re a step ahead of me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that. Your physics skills are pretty good, what with the shield and all.” You complimented, earning that charming smile of his. “We might just give them a run for their money.”

“Enough flirting, kids, get over here.” Bruce grinned as he finished lining up the cups.

“You know how to play Beer Pong?” You asked, plucking a ping pong ball off of the table and fiddling with it.

“Kid, I have seven PhDs. I have played my share of Beer Pong.” Bruce admitted.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was nice to see the Avengers loosen up like this, have a good time together, really truly bond.

You gave Steve the basic rundown of the rules: no elbows past the edge of the table, balls back, stoplight, island, and that if you let Sam and Bruce get too many cups, you and Steve would get “schwaisted” as the kids said, or, at the very least, you would. Steve would probably be fine.

“Ladies first.” Sam said, giving you the second ping pong ball, one of which, you handed to Steve.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You said, rubbing the ball between your hands before perfectly bouncing it into the cup at the front of the pyramid. “Your turn, Steve.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, sinking the ball into the same cup. “I believe that’s three cups, gentlemen.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He shared a look with Bruce. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You’re telling me.” Bruce chuckled, retrieving the ping pong ball and rolling it back. He started drinking the contents of the first cup, leaving the other two to Sam. “Alright, do your worst.”

Needless to say, you wiped the floor with the other two. Barely even gave them a chance. Which is why it was only fair that Clint and Natasha kicked the absolute shit out of the two of you.

You struggled to down your third cup, which is why when you reached for the fourth, Steve shook his head and took it from you, only offering a wink when you opened your mouth to protest.

“Hey! Steve, it’s supposed to be five each.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she already finished hers.” Steve shrugged, chugging another like it was water. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah absolutely. What he said.” You shrugged.

You helped clean up the mess a bit after the game was over, rounding up empty cups, wiping down the table, and then washing your hands as Tony switched the music to something upbeat, dancing music.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Steve urged, clearly toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. He reached out for your hand and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try.

You let him lead you out to the middle of the room, where Wanda and Vision were already dancing together and looking adorable doing it.

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” You laughed as he spun you around to the music.

“I’m a quick learner.” He whispered, mouth against your ear.

You swore your entire body flushed red, but you let your feet lead you through the dance. Steve took both of your hands, swinging you out and then back in, spinning you around. You blamed the alcohol on what happened next. Your heel caught on the fabric of your dress and you fell over the back of one of the couches, tugging Steve down with you.

He laughed, using an arm to push himself off of you, hovering, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You’ve got me falling for you, Rogers.” You murmured, gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

You said it as a joke, a quip, but there was some truth in it. More than some. It had been a magical, magical night. And if it weren’t for the leather cuff on his wrist, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.

Steve closed his eyes, smiling and sitting up, helping you upright again. “I’ll go get us some water.”

You sighed and sat back against the couch, heart hammering in your chest.

Natasha perched on the armrest, looking down at you. “What was that?”

“Not sure. I think I fumbled the bag. If…if there even was a bag I guess.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“No, there is something there. I can see it.” Natasha said, thinking as she nursed a glass of wine. “Hmmm…”

Steve stood in the kitchen, getting two glasses of filtered water from the fridge. He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning against it. He replayed the moment in his head over and over. The look in your eyes, the way your necklace glimmered in the light, the sound of your voice, the flush of your cheeks. You were catching feelings for him, that much was clear. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was a good thing, he reasoned, thinking back on his first night with you all those years ago. But you still couldn’t know why. Not yet.

It was going to kill him to keep it a secret for ten more months.

Timeless

Sherbert rays of the sunrise lit the training room, filling it with a warm orange glow. You were sitting on the floor, stretching your legs while you listened to music. That was another thing on the growing list of skills that had improved during your stint as an Avenger: your flexibility.

Suddenly, Steve was standing over you, saying something you couldn’t hear due to the noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You slid one off, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, reaching for your other leg.

“Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I drank too much caffeine before bed last night. Learned my lesson. No caffeine after six.”

“That’s a good rule. Mind if I stretch with you?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You tossed your headphones onto your workout bag and connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers, putting on some music you could both listen to.

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Ah. Yes, her. I keep hearing about her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. “Have you liked any of her songs so far?”

“I don’t know if I could name one for you, to be honest.” He listened to the song that was playing. “This one’s not bad, though.”

“I’ll send you some recommendations. There are some I think you’d really vibe with.”

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

The others came in not long after, did their warm-ups, and then Steve briefed everyone on the plan for their training session, one in which everyone would swap weapons, practice using each other’s things in case they ever had to in battle if one of their teammates got disarmed.

You started with Clint. He showed you the absolute basics of archery, how to pull back the bow, how to notch an arrow, how to aim, taking into account distance. You fired a few arrows into a target and did okay, you supposed, but you would need some practice if you wanted to actually get good at it. Years of it, realistically.

Natasha showed you how to use her electric batons, which were fun, but did intimidate you a little. You definitely did not want to end up on the wrong end of those things.

And then, inevitably, you were standing in front of Steve. He offered you his shield, which on its own seemed daunting. You held it for a second, assessing the weight of it. It was noticeably lighter than you thought it would be.

“Woah.”

“Yeah. People always expect it to be heavier.” He said, a hand resting on his hip as he watched you hold it. It looked so right in your hands, he decided. “It’s good for a lot of things, but first…” Carefully, he helped you put your arm through the straps on the back of it, holding it in front of your body in its primary and most famous purpose.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “This is so crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” You chuckled, waving it around a bit.

“You keep looking at it like it’s Thor’s hammer or something.” He teased.

“Feels like it.”

“Well the good news is, this thing is not password protected by some Asgardian magic words. The bad news is, that means the bad guys can pick it up, too.” Steve said, gently positioning your body in an offensive stance, nudging a foot with his own, switching your arms around. “You can use it to bash somebody head on, or you can angle it a bit to get a more direct blow. It will take the force of most things. I…I actually kind of don’t know the limits. Hasn’t failed me yet. The paint does come off from time to time, though, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay, wow.” You nodded. “Good to know.”

“I trust you with it.” He said, eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, heart racing. “I’m honored.”

He showed you a few other tricks, and then training wrapped up for the day, everyone grabbing some water, taking a shower, or making plans for lunch. Once you walked off with Wanda, Nat cornered Steve.

“What was that?” She asked, that catlike grin on her face.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, you know, the way you looked at her. I think you’ve got a soft spot.”

“Yeah, well, I did rope her into all this. Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for her.” He dodged expertly, weaving through Natasha’s mental gymnastics with skill and precision, or so he thought.

“Uh-huh sure. Well, she, Wanda, and I are going antiquing this afternoon. You should come. After all, you know quite a bit about vintage valuables.”

He laughed. “Hey!”

She walked off, smiling to herself. Steve thought about it for all of four seconds before he decided he would tag along. He hadn’t been to an antique shop in this century, so he couldn’t imagine the kinds of things they had there now. He might even learn a thing or two.

***

After a quick lunch, Steve did decide to tag along. It wound up being him, Vision, and the girls, which he certainly didn’t mind.

You and Wanda were buzzing with excitement, Natasha looking on and following behind with Steve. Vision lingered, studying everything, picking things up to get a closer look. He had projected a human disguise over himself, something Steve didn’t know he could even do, but it seemed to work. No one had batted an eye at him since they stepped foot in the shop.

“This place is…huge.” Steve said, glancing down the hall of the seemingly endless store.

“Biggest one in the state.” You chimed. “It’s the whole city block.”

“There’s a basement, too. And a second floor.” Natasha informed him, patting his arm. “This is gonna be an all day kinda thing.”

“Oh undoubtedly.” He said, setting down the teacup in his hands, a petite, floral thing.

You sifted through a box of records, picking up the soundtrack of the Muppets Movie.

“Is that a frog?”

“This is Kermit thee Frog, show some respect.” You laughed, putting the record in your basket.

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

“Oh I forgot you missed the Muppets, oh my god.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“We need to fix that as soon as possible.” You told him. “Can’t have you missing out on cultural icons like Gonzo and Miss Piggy.”

“Okay now you’re making things up.” He chuckled, shuffling through the records as well. You showed him a few good ones and he added them to his basket, saying something about how he’s been meaning to use his new record player.

Wanda browsed some vintage rings, picking out a few, and Natasha rifled through a rack of vintage dresses, most of them from the forties and fifties from the look of it. Nat held up a navy blue one, silky, with short ruffled sleeves and buttons down the front. Steve froze, looking at it. For a moment, it looked just a little too familiar. Like the dress you had worn that night.

Eventually Nat put the dress back. You hadn’t seen it. You were distracted by a shelf of VHS tapes, looking for the old Barbie movies, whatever those were. Wanda was with you, on the next shelf over, calling out movie names when she found something cool.

Steve wandered off on his own, looking around at the different trinkets and toys, old letterman jackets and jewelry, dishes that may or may not contain lead. Finally, he came upon a little room full of art, paintings and photographs, handmade pottery.

Time stood still.

He stared at the large painting on the wall, oil on canvas. Two star-crossed lovers dancing in a bar in Brooklyn, a little guy with a dream, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world, twirling in her dark blue dress. His heart raced. He never thought he’d see this painting again.

It had been his last painting before leaving for Camp Lehigh, the last painting he did before his life and body changed forever. He’d used the last of his paints to make it, every color mixed with care to get the exact color of your hair, your eyes, your lips, all from memory.

And it was here in front of him. When he had been presumed dead, it must have been sold off. He didn’t really have anyone left it could go to.

In that moment, he wasn’t Captain America. Standing in his shoes was that little guy from Brooklyn.

“Woah.” You murmured, suddenly right next to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it…it is.” He agreed, looking away from it. He didn’t want you to get too close of a look at it. However, that didn’t stop you from walking forward to inspect it closer.

“‘Soulmates.’ Artist unknown.” You read from the plaque. “Oh, it’s from the 40s. 1943. Does it look familiar?”

“Yeah, actually. Bucky liked that bar.” Steve said, pointing to the details of the interior. “It’s a little place in Brooklyn, called Val’s. Well, it was I guess. I don’t know if it’s still open anymore.”

Your eyes lingered on the woman’s face, on the man’s. You didn’t say anything about how they looked, about the uncanny resemblance to yourself and Steve. Instead, you sighed. “Someday, I want to be that in love with someone.”

He just about cried. But instead, he gathered his words, put a hand on your shoulder, and told you with confidence, “You will be.”

***

Hours later, when you were all shopped out and you’d checked out with your things, Steve stayed at the counter while the rest of you went to the car.

“Hey, um, that painting in the art room. The soulmates in the bar. I’m interested in buying it. Would it be possible to have it held here for a while, though?”

“Oh I’m sure we could arrange something,” said the old man at the counter with a smile and a nod. He started writing out the purchase form.

Steve glanced back towards where it was, that fragment of his soul he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He knew the fact that he’d stumbled upon it was nothing short of fate.

Wildest Dreams

It had been Tony’s idea. Of course it had. It always was, wasn’t it? He’d insisted that all the members of the team who hadn’t yet been exposed to Wanda’s mind manipulation should be, just in case there was a misfire during combat and one of you got caught in the crossfire. It would be important to see how each of you reacted, the kinds of things you saw so you’d be able to snap out of it.

Theoretically, of course.

This left Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Tony out, as they’d already had their fun with Wanda’s magic. The rest of you, however, were waiting for your turn.

Wanda felt conflicted about it. She didn’t want to hurt her friends on accident, let alone on purpose, but Tony was insistent, and he had some of the others on his side. Namely, Rhodey, who had been hanging out more and more, and Clint, who’d had his experience with a different kind of mind control shortly before the Battle of New York.

It was part of why he’d volunteered to go first. Once he came to, he gave you a thumbs-up, shaking it off and walking over to Natasha.

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. Who’s next?”

Sam looked at you and the despondent look on your face before volunteering himself to go next. Rhodey went in solidarity, despite being too busy with his government responsibilities to be a full-time member of the team. And then it was your turn. You stood next to Wanda. She offered an apologetic smile before red crackled around her fingertips and it hit you.

For the first few seconds, you were fine. You felt tingly. You blinked a few times and your eyes felt weird. No doubt, your eyes were red, like the others’ turned when they were under the influence of Wanda’s powers.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, voice urgent.

“Think so.” You replied, mouth full of cotton. It felt like that time in college someone had given you an edible that was too strong. The first and last time you’d ever gotten high. Like you were sinking and melting. Your legs buckled and Steve surged forward, catching you before you hit the floor, gently lowering you into a comfortable position. “Hey, you’re pretty strong…” You murmured, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The others all looked at each other. Clint dragged over a bean bag and Steve gently lowered you onto it, adjusting it so you’d be comfortable.

“She’ll be okay, Steve.” Natasha reassured him, the guilt in his eyes palpable, yet still not explained. Not entirely. She had a sneaking suspicion whatever it was had something to do with the name written on his wrist, the name he wouldn’t show anyone. Not her, not Nick Fury, not even Sam.

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, slowly taking a step back. His eyes didn’t leave you. He had to force himself to look away. “I, um…I have to go…There’s a…” Steve motioned towards the door before leaving the room, while you sat there, catatonic, off in your own little world.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, his voice close. “That was a long nap. Forget to set your alarm?”

You opened your eyes and you were laying down on the couch. Steve was standing at the island in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good. Really good. He was wearing a button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, still wearing his slacks from work. He had music playing from the record player, your vast collection of hits from decades of music, and he was still hooked on 40s jazz. You supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“You cooking?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Come over here and get a taste.”

You followed, out to the kitchen. He set down his wooden spoon and swiftly intercepted you, pulling you up onto the countertop, kissing you deeply, a hand running through your hair. Your hand came up to frame his cheek. He was growing a bit of a beard these days. You liked it, thought it suited him.

You sighed against his lips and then pulled away to look at him. He grabbed your wrist, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. Three simple words. Steven Grant Rogers.

“I love you, doll.” His words cut through you, eyes tender and sincere. “Always have.”

But this wasn’t your Steve. And it wasn’t your reality, given away by the slightest tinge of red in his irises.

It wasn’t real. And neither was the glimmering wedding ring around your finger.

***

You blinked awake, the power dispersing from your head, leaving you shockingly sober. And hungry. That familiar sting was back, right between your neck and shoulder. You wondered how long it’d been.

Clint was in the room with you. So was Sam. Natasha was gone. Wanda too, surprisingly. As was Steve.

You got chills even thinking about him, the phantom of the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

“You alright?” Sam asked, making eye contact with you first.

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

“Three minutes. New record.” Clint said with a grin.

“Oh.” No wonder it had felt so short. Part of you wanted it to last longer.

“We’re sending Rhodey to get some food, if you’re hungry.” Sam said.

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

“I could go for some nuggies.” You admitted. “A McFlurry, perchance.”

Clint laughed. “How did I know you would say that?”

In the kitchen, Steve stood, hands on the counter, mug of coffee steaming in front of him, untouched. He stared at the cupboard door.

“That must be one interesting cupboard. You’ve been standing there for like five whole minutes.”

“It’s only been three.” Steve said, glancing at the clock.

“And the fact that you know down to the exact minute is why I’m so intrigued.” Natasha chimed, tilting her head. “What is going on with her? I have never seen you look at anyone like that in the entire time I’ve known you. Is she…what, the kid of an old friend? Grandkid?”

“It’s nothing, Natasha. She’s the newest member of the team, I’m just worried—”

“Steve.” She said, cutting him off, that look in her eye. “If you want to get all defensive about it, fine. Keep your secrets.” She sighed. “But if you need someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Steve let out a long sigh, weighing his options. It was something to the tune of eight months until your birthday. That was still a long time. A lot of time for that secret to slip through the cracks and, potentially, break the timeline. The Butterfly Effect was something he had researched extensively. Your future together was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

No, it was too important that you stay in the dark, even if that meant keeping his friends in the dark, too.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded unconvinced. “Well, she’s out of it. Clint just texted. She wants twenty chicken nuggets and an Oreo McFlurry.”

The relief was immediate. You were okay. He could only wonder what you had seen in there, and why it had been so quick. The others had been under for upwards of ten minutes. You’d only been down three. “Well good. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

Invisible String

It was late. A few weeks after your tussle with the Scarlet Witch, if you could even call it that. You could tell Wanda felt guilty about the whole thing, but it wasn’t her fault. If anything it was Tony’s. Sure, the exercise had prepared you for a worst case scenario, but it had also dug a very awkward gap between you and Steve. You could barely even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

He had his soulmate, whoever they were. You really needed to let it go.

You walked down to the kitchen to get a cold drink, but there was already someone sitting at the table. Steve, sitting there, hand resting on his chin, papers spread out in front of him. There was a picture you recognized as Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers of him around the Compound from time to time. Steve’s best friend turned Hydra assassin, brainwashed for decades and now, rogue, out there somewhere. Sam always seemed to be looking for the guy. Natasha and Clint, too. And there had never been any sign of him. Well, until now, it seemed.

On the TV, Star Wars was playing. Empire Strikes Back. Steve looked up at it every so often.

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

“No. They were the first things I watched when I was out of the ice. I like them a lot. The hope, the Force, the Jedi stuff, the music.” He shrugged. “They’re good.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

“And here I thought you’d say Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s great, too. You like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, I used to be obsessed with them in high school. Haven’t seen them in a while, though. I’m something of a Leia girl myself.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You’ve got that spark.”

“What order did you watch them in?”

“Nat made me watch the originals first.” He confessed. “I like the prequels, though. Well, two of the prequels. Phantom Menace is…”

“Oh yeah. You’re not alone in that.” You laughed softly. “You know, I never really pegged you as a sci-fi nerd.”

“Yeah, well, someone I really care about seemed to like them a whole lot, so I knew I had to check them out.” He shrugged. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Getting a drink. What are you doing up so late?”

He looked down at the papers and then back up at you. “Oh. Yeah, this is just…Trying to get some stuff figured out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered.

He thought about it for a long moment, letting out a little sigh before nodding. That was the only reassurance you needed before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and plopping down into the seat next to him.

“They found him. Clint and Natasha. They think he’s hiding out in Kentucky somewhere.” Steve said. He shook his head. “He saved my life a few years ago. After all the brainwashing, he still pulled me out of the water. I don’t know how much of him is still him, but…”

“But it’s worth a try.” You reasoned. “Obviously he’s been through a lot, but he must be pretty strong to have made it through everything.”

“I don’t know when I’m going. They haven’t narrowed it down all the way. And Tony doesn’t want me to even go at all.”

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

“If you want to go, you should go. And if you need me, I’m there. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

He met your eyes with a sobering gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed. “When, uh, when I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip down to DC. There’s a Captain America exhibit in the Air and Space Museum, it had just opened. We learned about you and Bucky. How close you were, what happened. There are videos of me just crying uncontrollably there, learning about it. They had to take me outside, get me some water. I couldn’t go back in. I don’t even know why. Something about it…”

“About me?” Steve whispered.

“That’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t have told you that.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet.” Steve said, reaching for your hand on the table. You let him take it, fingers curling.

“So when you found me that day, I guess I always knew it would lead to something like this. A stroke of fate, or something.” You admitted. “Some part of me knew that you would mean something to me someday. I guess I never thought we would be friends.”

“How old were you?”

“God, this would have been like ten years ago at this point. I was like fourteen or something. I was twenty-one when they found you in the ice. It was all over the news my sophomore year of college, kind of right when I was figuring my powers out, actually. And then everything was all over the news and I…went into hiding more or less, hoping it wouldn’t be me on the TV next.”

“Until the mall?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t just…let it happen, you know? It was like some part of me knew that I had these powers for a reason, and that if I didn’t stop it, who would? I didn’t know you were there, obviously, but, I think even if I had, I still would have jumped in.”

He smiled softly, eyes earnest. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well I’m really glad you did, for the record. I think we’re all a little better off because of it.”

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

You chuckled. “No, like how old are you really?”

Steve took a breath. No one ever asked him that. No one really cared about that. No one except you, it seemed. “I’m not sure. I’d have to do some math. I think I’m twenty-eight maybe. Twenty-nine.”

“Thought so.” You smiled. “Well, Steve, whenever you get it figured out, say the word and I’ll suit up. We’ll bring him home.”

Out of the Woods

The next mission you were sent on wasn’t to bring back Bucky. Not yet. Instead, you were on the team that got deployed into a rainforest to break up a rogue Hydra base. It was warm, almost too warm for your uniform, but you were grateful for the coverage, especially when they started shooting.

You ran down the makeshift path, evading enemies and throwing up forcefields to stop them in their tracks. Thor was in town, so he was zipping around through the trees with his hammer, the force of it bringing some down every once in a while.

“On your six.” Steve reported through the comms. You dodged out of the way and sure enough, a Hydra agent tumbled ahead, tripped by a small field you cast at his feet. A few of Natasha’s bullets took care of that.

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Don’t mention it. I could actually use some backup. I’m in the building. There’s more of them than I thought there would be.”

“I’m on my way.” You reported, changing directions and sprinting towards the building housing the Hydra base. What they were doing here, you had no clue, but Bruce theorized it had something to do with a meteor that had landed out that way a few months prior. They were probably harvesting whatever materials had been inside it.

You kicked down the door. Steve had six guys on him, two of which he disposed of quickly. You made a portal beneath one guy, sending him falling down a flight of stairs with the second portal you opened.

The other three guys went down quickly enough, only for a guy in a giant mech armor to come crashing through the interior wall. He shot and Steve jumped in front of you, taking a hit to the neck. A tiny syringe filled with shimmering purple liquid.

“Fuck! Steve!” You ran to him, but that didn’t take care of the large problem looming behind you. Seeing red, you made another portal at the feet of the robot, opened it in the ceiling, and cut it off as it was halfway through, destroying it in a flash of sparks and shredded metal. It shut down, giving you time to get to Steve.

He was sitting against the wall, head slumped to the side. You took the syringe out of his neck, tucking it into a pouch on your belt for testing. If this thing was poison, you’d need Bruce to start whipping up an antidote as soon as possible.

“Steve, hey, stay with me.” You touched his face, trying to wake him.

At your touch, he blinked a few times, drowsy. He gave you a crooked smile. “Heyyy, there you are.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back to the jet.” You told him, pulling him to his feet, but he slumped in your arms like dead weight. You had been working out since you’d been recruited, but he was still heavy. “You’ve gotta work with me, big guy.”

“They used to call me little guy.” He murmured, sounding drunk. “Back in Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure they did.” You slung his arm around your shoulders and started hauling ass out of the building. A few agents shot at you, trying to hit you while you were distracted with carrying Steve to safety, but they forgot you were the one Avenger whose specialty was defense.

You lit a forcefield in your left hand, using its faint blue light to guide the two of you through the dim hallways. It slowed all the bullets to a stop, causing them to drop to the floor harmlessly. There was something kind of poetic about it, you supposed. Steve was so famous for that shield of his, but now you were the shield, protecting him.

“Did you guys find anything in there?” Clint asked.

“The good news is, we cleared most of it out. Bad news is, Steve got shot with something. I’m bringing him back to the ship now. I don’t know what it was but he’s acting really drunk.”

“Tranq darts seem to have that effect on him, yeah.” Bruce explained. “Bring him back here and I’ll make sure it wasn’t laced with something else.”

“On it.”

You lugged Steve along, stopping to rest and readjust against a wall for a second.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me even when I don’t feel so good.” He said, leaning his full weight against you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ve got ya.” You pulled his arm around your shoulders again. “You would do the same for any of us.”

He smiled, face impossibly close to yours. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, (Y/N).”

You knew it was probably just the drugs talking but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you when he said it anyway.

Once you were outside, you opened a waypoint in front of the two of you, the second portal in front of the jet, and then stepped through, closing it behind you. Bruce opened the door and helped you haul Steve inside, onto the cot of the makeshift mobile infirmary.

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

“Thank you for remembering. Thor always breaks these and then I have to do bloodwork to figure out what was in them.” He chuckled.

“He’s very smash first, ask questions later.”

“No wonder he and Hulk get along so well.” Bruce joked. “Alright, get back out there. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful out there.” Steve advised, eyes half-lidded. “They have guns.”

“I’ll be extra careful, alright? I promise.” You met his eyes and he smiled immediately. Once you were sure he was okay, you stepped out of the jet again, getting back to help the others.

***

When you got back, you were nursing a bullet wound. They’d gotten you in the arm. It wasn’t too bad, though, the bleeding had almost stopped. Natasha went straight for the med kit when you two stepped foot on the jet, motioning you over to the stool.

Steve was there, still on the cot. He stared as Nat started cleaning your wound. “Wait, you got hurt?”

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He nodded and reached for your hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright, doll. Had me worried sick.”

Doll. You replayed the word in your mind. Steve had called you a lot of things in the past few months, but never once had he used that somewhat outdated term of endearment. You liked it, though.

You met Natasha’s eyes and she smirked while the supersoldier held your hand.

Sam walked in next, eyeing up the scene unfolding in front of him. “Woah, what’d I miss? Feels like I missed several chapters.”

“Steve is drunk.” Clint explained, counting his remaining arrows.

“Tranq dart. He’s fine. Just needs to ride it out for a few hours. He should be back to normal by the time we get home.” Bruce explained as he put away his tablet.

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Sam walked over and put a hand on Steve’s other arm. “You’re holding (Y/N)’s hand kinda tight there.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, directing his eyes to your joint hands. He let go. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” You reassured him.

The others trickled in slowly until everyone was accounted for, the base destroyed, the Hydra operatives in SHIELD custody for questioning. Fury and his team would handle it from there. You couldn’t help but play the mission over and over in your head.

Never had you used a waypoint to split something in half. But something had clicked in you when Steve was hurt. You’d never felt like that before, like part of your soul itself was being ripped out. He meant more to you than you cared to admit, especially when your fate was tied elsewhere.

Still, your new ability needed training. It was a dangerous skill to have, and if you didn’t hone it properly, you could end up doing some serious damage on accident.

Come Find Me in the Future

It was the night before you and a select group of the team were heading out to find and recover Bucky. Clint had finally gotten a hit on him. But if he had, that meant others could be after him, too. People that wanted him back. Badly.

You were nervous about it for that reason. You weren’t sure why the rest of you hadn’t already left, to be honest. You didn’t want to race with Hydra. It wasn’t one you were sure you’d win.

To stave off the feeling of dread, you had commandeered the living room TV and popped in Howl’s Moving Castle. You were nursing a mug of chamomile tea in your hands, playing games on your Switch.

You were near the end of the movie, at the part where Sophie was whisked to the past, when Steve walked into the room, in his pajamas, a tank top and a pair of plaid pants.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey. You’re up late. Big mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s almost over.” You told him. “Drinking my sleepy tea as we speak.”

“Sleepy tea?”

“Chamomile mint. It’s good. There’s some over by the Keurig if you want any.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, walking over. “What’s this?”

“Howl’s Moving Castle. One of my favorites.” You told him.

“What’s it about?”

“That is a complicated question.” You laughed. “I’d have to start it over, I think.”

“Another time, maybe.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve watched as Sophie got sucked back through the wormhole to the present.

She called out “I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!”

He perked up. “Wait, she…there’s time travel?”

“Yeah, she gets pulled into the past for a bit and tells him to find her and then years later, the first words he says to her are ‘There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ It’s really sweet.”

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

“Does that happen? Often?” Steve asked, hung up on it. “In real life?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of that happening before.” You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would believe it, even if it did. Happens a lot in fiction, though.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve nodded. He met your eyes and then looked down at his lap, tongue flitting across his pink lips. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

“The mission last week. I, uh…I said some things and, uh…I just, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him. “No apology necessary. You were drugged. I probably would have said worse, to be honest.”

He smiled. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. And thank you for agreeing to come tomorrow. We could really use the help.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back, always.” You told him, earning another one of those earnest, lovesick smiles. “Anywho, I finished that playlist for you. The Taylor Swift one. I can make you a more general one with different songs, but…figured that was a decent starting place.”

“Great, yeah, thank you.” He nodded, looking at his phone as it pinged with the notification you had sent it to him. “I’ll give it a listen.”

“Let me know what you think.”

“Oh I will.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it. And um, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

Bright and early was an understatement. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when your alarm went off. You groaned, rolled over and silenced your screaming phone, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t drift back off.

Today was too important for that.

Instead, you got up, brushed your hair, and went out to the kitchen, where Vision had whipped up a full breakfast for everyone going out. It was you, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Sam. A small team, but enough firepower to bring him back without overwhelming and/or scaring him off.

“Morning.” Steve said, eyes landing on you the moment you walked into the room.

“Morning.”

“Coffee?” He offered, pushing a cup of your favorite iced coffee over to you. You couldn’t lie, you were impressed.

“Thanks.” You grinned, taking a long sip to kickstart your morning. You loaded a plate up with eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast, plus a little side of hashbrowns, thanking Vision thoroughly.

“It is my pleasure, (Y/N). As someone who does not require sleep, it would be rude of me to let you all starve so early in the day.”

“(Y/N), you got him listening to Taylor Swift?” Sam asked, eyes drilling into you.

You laughed. “Uh, yeah. What about it? She’s a cultural icon, do you want him left out of the loop?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Steve shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“Of course you’re not.” Natasha chuckled, words warbled by her own cup. You noticed the way her lips pursed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was nervous. About what, you couldn’t tell. She seldom got nervous. Or at least, she seldom let it show. But it was definitely there.

Wanda was the last into the kitchen, already fully put together. She gave the chef her thanks with a warm smile and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. Those two, beyond a shadow of a doubt, were absolutely made for each other. You wondered what her wrist would have to say about it when the time came.

Once everyone had eaten, those who weren’t suited up got ready, locked and loaded for a tense mission. You’d have Clint on the coms here, doing recon from a drone. The rest of you loaded up onto the jet, strapping in.

Nat and Sam hopped into the cockpit. Wanda sat next to you, Steve across the aisle, his eyes meeting yours every so often.

“It’ll be alright.” You said, trying to dispel his nerves.

He nodded, but didn’t reply, just giving a short nod and staring at the holographic map on the wall as you approached closer and closer. You could see that little guy from Brooklyn peeking through the eyes of the supersoldier sitting across from you, nervous about his best friend.

You unbuckled just before you landed, walking across the jet to strap on your weapons. The others did the same, arming themselves. Nat was going to keep the jet warm for a speedy exit, the look in her eyes still unreadable. The rest of you got ready for war.

It was an abandoned warehouse, large garage door, broken windows, slanted roof with a hole in it. Definitely not the most secure of places. According to Clint’s drone, Bucky was in the back room.

“Waypoint, I need you out here ready to get us a quick escape.”

“Got it.” You nodded, positioning yourself within eyeshot of the warehouse and the jet so you could make a portal either way.

“Wanda, Sam, you’re with me.” Steve instructed, taking a minute to breathe, to think. “He’s gonna be ready to run. We have to talk him out of it.”

“Uh, Cap. Might wanna work a little faster. There’s another plane incoming. About three minutes out.”

“Alright.” Steve nodded, taking off his helmet and slinging his shield onto his back. He led the other two into the building.

For a heartwrenching two minutes, you didn’t hear anything. And then you heard a plane. And then gunshots.

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

You did as you were told, opening the waypoint in the warehouse, another just outside. Nat had picked the jet up off of the ground, firing at the one Hydra had brought. She took another shot, damaging the wing and causing it to go down.

“Shit, wait—!”

There was a flash of light and you expected it to be Steve that came through first. Maybe Bucky, even. Instead, it was a grenade. And a split second later, it exploded, knocking you unconscious.

***

Steve stood over you, horrified. Thanks to your suit, the damage didn’t seem too bad. But you had blood and soot caked on your face, the ends of your hair singed.

It was his fault. He had told you to open the Waypoint, only for a Hydra agent to toss a grenade right through it.

He all but collapsed to his knees, collecting you in his arms. Bucky was on the jet already, Sam, too. Only he and Wanda were outside with you.

“(Y/N), come on. Open those eyes for me.” He pleaded, voice soft, eyes aching with tears. “Hey, come on. Please…”

“We should get her back to the jet.” Wanda goaded softly, a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He scooped you off of the ground, an arm beneath your legs, the other around your back. Your arms hung down, limp. Your head rested heavily against his shoulder, eyes closed.

By the time Steve walked up the ramp, Nat already had the infirmary cot down, ready to go. Bucky watched, eyes intense. He looked up when Steve approached, eyes falling on you. They widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

Natasha helped him get you situated in the cot, wrapping the cuff around your arm that would measure your vitals. With everyone accounted for, Sam closed the door, lifting the jet into the air.

“I’ve got Banner on the line.” Natasha told him.

“Good.” Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, watching as the breaths entered and left your lungs. “Tell him to get the infirmary ready for her.”

“Already on it, Cap. She’ll be okay. Her vitals look…well they look good, all things considered.” Bruce relayed. “Just get back here as fast as you can.”

***

As soon as the jet landed, Steve unhooked you from the vitals monitor and collected you in his arms, carrying you to the gurney Bruce had ready, walking with him as he wheeled you towards the infirmary. Bruce insisted he needed some time and sent Steve away, taking a piece of his heart with him.

Vision checked over Bucky, giving him the okay almost immediately before going to help Bruce in the infirmary.

Steve sat at the table, Bucky sitting down to join him. The others gave them a minute alone.

“Hey, pal.” Steve exhaled, trying to force a smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He agreed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “I’m with you—”

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiled, eyes soft. His irises flicked towards the infirmary and back. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve let out a sigh, the wall finally coming down and more tears slipping down his cheeks. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. She’s—”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” Bucky’s hand grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, the covered one. The one with her name etched onto it. “She has to be. Has she…does she know yet?”

“No one does. Just me. And you.” Steve confessed. He wiped his thumb under his eye. “So you’re right. She has to pull through.”

Steve held onto that spark of hope for the coming hours. He showed Bucky to the room that had been prepared for him, but Sam offered to give him a tour of the place, knowing their friend was in a fragile mental state.

Eventually, Vision found him and told him he could enter the infirmary. Bruce had finished treating you. When Steve walked in and saw you, still unconscious, laying on that bed, he choked on more sobs. The bruising on your face was pretty severe. You were hooked up to several monitors, an IV. Supposedly, your injuries were not too extreme, but you had a cracked rib and would need time to heal before you could do any missions or training.

Hours later, Nat found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the cuff around his wrist. The playlist you’d made for him played softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. Timeless. As if he wasn’t already crying enough.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood. Members of the team had been injured before and sure, he checked on them, but he never reacted like this.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all. It’s…kinda my fault this happened.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

He wanted to hold onto his secret. He did. But he was feeling fragile, vulnerable. It couldn’t hurt to have just one more person on his side. “I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, if you could even hear him while you were out, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. Her fingers reached for her own cuff. She hesitated, but pulled it off, holding her soulmark out to him. “Fair is fair.”

Steve stared at the letters for a long time, realization slowly filling his eyes. The name on her wrist was none other than James Buchannan Barnes. “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you until all the dust settled, but it just settled, so…” She shrugged, putting the cuff back on. “I’ll figure out how to tell him, too, if he doesn’t know already.”

“Buck’s mark was grayed out back then. We thought…well, we didn’t know what it meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. It was the reason Bucky had dated around so much back then. He’d figured if he just found someone else, his mark would change and he wouldn’t have to be alone. Never could he have guessed what it actually meant, that his soulmate wouldn’t be born for another forty or so years. “And then he lost his arm…”

“Yeah, that part I did know.” She smirked. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her. Let you know if she says anything you need to hear.”

“She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too. Everyone else does.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed, gazing longingly through the window.

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. You’ve waited seventy years. Six months is nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. Nevertheless, she was glad they had talked. At least now, they could be there for each other.

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel #mcu #avengers

145 notes · View notes

stupidthoughtsinwriting · 1 month

Text

Glimpse of Us

Summary: Years after the faithful night, reality brings the two back together, with all the years of unresolved pain, feelings and comparisons

Warning: Angst is all the warning I can think off ehehhe, Hard core Angst

Note: ehehehehe the long awaited sequel to She use to be mine is finally here! After what? nearly 2 years. its finally here! I'm so sorry for the long wait and thank you to those who encouraged me to continue on with the next part. I won't dawdle on and let you lot enjoy the concoction i seem to have mustered on. ehehe again sorry for the months delay.

oh and i almost forgot, the italics are best imagined as her singing

P.S. I drafted this post 7 or 8 months after the first part and dear god, how time has passed. Looking back at the story, I'm not really too proud of this one and ended it because I really have no idea how to continue it. I have an idea for a next part (dangerous words coming from me) but I'm not gonna set a date for when I post it because we all know how the last part turned out. Anyways enjoy

😊❤️💛💚💙💜🖤😊 -T

‘Hey, you’re up in five’`

‘Yah sure, just touching up’ you say as you smacked your lips after applying a bit of lip gloss.

‘You don’t need it’ he replied.

‘Still. I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you scoffed, fiddling with your hair for the hundredth time.

‘You’ll do great’ he smiled ‘Now your hair is fine, you look amazing, and I have to go. Break a leg’ he bid before getting on stage to rouse the crowd. Admittedly, you are nervous. You wouldn’t call yourself a singer, but you do have a good enough voice and can hold a tune. You knew it was a mistake singing in front of Harvey and you were only doing this as a favor. God. You checked the mirror one last time before finding it was good enough.

‘Now for tonight’s performance, A very dear friend of mine has agreed to perform tonight, though with a little bit of persuasion.’ Harvey mumbled the last part, getting a laugh from the crowd and a chuckle from yourself ‘She has a voice made by the gods above, though I don’t remember Thor being much of a singer. She can lure you in better than a siren, but I think that’s the other mythology’ he said cheekily.

‘Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Y/N Y/L/N!’ he introduced, that being your cue to emerge from the curtain, you stepped on staged and made your way over to the middle where he and the mic was, the spotlight following your movement. You waved and smiled at the crowd, glad there wasn’t much. Grasping the mic, you chuckled as the small crowd continued to clap.

‘Hi everybody’ you began, getting a hello in response from the crowd ‘Wow, thank you for the warm welcome and thank you Harvey for that unrealistic introduction’ you chuckled with the crowd, turning to Harvey who waved you off.

‘Now, taking something off of Harvey’s speech, I am made by no god or am one. Nor am I a siren from the Greek mythology. It did take some persuading to get me to do this and hopefully I don’t regret it.’ You laughed sheepishly.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you smile shyly. Glancing back at Harvey, with a smile on his face, he nodded, pushing you to continue. Pulling out the rest of the confidence you still had stored, you turned back beaming at the crowd.

‘Now to not keep you waiting any longer, Paul if you will’ you gestured to the man on the piano and he nods before gliding his fingers along the keys, playing the start of the song. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the piano before singing the lyrics. Grabbing hold of the mic, you opened your eyes and began.

He'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

He'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

You let your eyes flutter to a close as you gripped the mic firmly. Swaying your body occasionally to melody.

Why then if he is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? Ooh

Opening your eyes, you scanned the crowd, completely surprised by how the much you can see of the crowd seemed entranced.

When you’re out of sight

You saw you’re your friends in a booth over on the corner, the people entering the establishment.

In my mind

Then the bar where you found him, staring at you. You locked eyes with those beautiful ocean blue orbs that you love loved so much. Stumbling over your words, you nearly forgot about the song but once the piano keys hit the right note, your lips continued in autopilot.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

And that's where I find

A glimpse of us

Eyes leaving contact, you scanned his entirety. The grey streaks at his temples have grown longer since the last time you saw him. The old clean-shaven face he used to don had a goatee. Prominent lines and creases were evident in his features and really the years have aged him well. He wore a suit, complete with a vest, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket and everything. A glass of whiskey at his side and he was still as handsome as the day you left.

You closed your eyes once more, willing this to just be another trick or hallucination by your imagination. Though it was a horrid idea as memories of the day came back crashing onto you, you let them stay shut as you continued.

And I try to fall for his touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

There you stood, as beautiful as the day he met you, if not more. In all your beauty, and the signature grin you adorned, you were radiant. Though the spotlight might have something to do with it, you were still a ray of sunshine through the darkest of clouds.

The rest of the world faded out to him and his mind finally faltered. There you were. Standing a few feet away as you introduced yourself. Your hair’s cut short, or at least shorter than the last time he’d seen you. Earrings hid behind your curls and the lightest bit of make-up was applied to your soft features. Though that didn’t hide the blossoming pink tint gracing your cheeks. Your lips glistened with the lip gloss you had on just like you use to. Smile lines drew at the corner of your eyes as you chuckled over your own words, explaining how you ended up in your current situation.

You always smiled, even when you were feeling down, you always smiled. Whether to hide what you were truly feeling or to just be nice to people, you always smiled. He nearly forgot how beautiful that smile was, with only his dreams used to recall that charming grin, since it has been a rarity for him to look you up or even open the box full of pictures during your years together. Even with the picture he kept in his nightstand, he rarely opened the drawer. Funny how this photographic memory of his nearly forgot the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen.

He listened to every single word you uttered as he looked and committed every single detail he could of you to memory. Your hair curled into soft waves, parted and pinned on one side. Your frame, fuller since the last time he saw your thin, nearly skeletal figure on that fateful night. You wore a wine-red wrap top that reached down to your wrists, paired with simple jeans and boots, you looked divine. The dip in the neckline of your shirt revealed the top of your cleavage but the gleaming gold necklace is what caught his attention. It was a simple gold bar plate though engraved with a heartbeat on one side. Common and a bit of a cliché now adays but what was special about that was it was an actual heartbeat. His. He gifted it to you when you both got accepted at Metro General. He explained that it was how his heart beat whenever he thought of you. As you tried to find the words to thank him, he made you turn it over to the other side to another engraving. You know I love you so, it said. A line from one of your favorite songs. He remembered how tears brimmed your eyes as you leaped to him, capturing his lip with yours.

What came as a shock to him now was that you were still wearing it. As he continued to look you over, the sound of your chuckle registered in his ears. God, he loves that sound. A sound he hasn’t heard long before you left. Looking back up to your face, he sees the girl he met all those years ago, buried under piles of books in the library on campus. The very same girl that chuckled at his horrible attempt at a flirtatious first introduction. A small smile tugged at his lips both at the memory and the sound. He hasn’t heard that sound in so long, it was a wonder when he heard it last. He just knew it was long before he fucked up and just chose to relish in the sweet sound now.

Now focusing and giving his undivided attention to your voice now, he listened.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you laugh timidly. A chuckle bubbled at his throat as flashes of you singing whilst cooking in the kitchen of your tiny apartment came into view. Wearing nothing but his shirt as you flipped pancakes, singing from Coldplay to Queen at the top of your lungs or humming to Ed Sheeran whilst you worked and studied case filles.

He knew you enough to know that you were nervous, you didn’t have to say it. After all these years he still knew you better than the back of his scarred hands, heck better than he knows himself.

He saw you look to the side and his eyes followed, landing on the host from earlier. With a smile on his face, he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to continue with your performance. And it did, he saw how you pulled the last of your confidence before turning back to the crowd.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he watched. I mean what did he expect, for you to be alone after all these years. A stupidly selfish part of him even hoped that you’d be waiting for him. To get his act together and you’d be back together. It was incredibly stupid; he knew that but that didn’t stop the creeping grip of jealousy from grasping his heart. As much as he knew how selfish the thought is, that didn’t stop the pain and hurt he felt seeing you look for reassurance in another man. Even after all these years.

The smile he had drawn up earlier had faded to a look of melancholy. It was good you had someone, he thought. Someone to be there for whenever you needed them the most, unlike him.

He watched as you turned and gestured to the pianist who nodded and started to fiddle with the keys. He watched as you took a breath, closed your eyes and began to sway to the smooth melody of the music. A small grin was itching at your lips. You were always more comfortable whenever listening to music and this was evident, unbeknownst to you.

Then you started to sing. You opened your eyes, took a firm grip at the mic and the lyrics just came dripping smoothly from your lips. That melodic voice of yours that he loves so much reminded him of the early mornings in the kitchen, the concerts in the shower and the lullabies to the kids under your care. Little did you know but the sound of your sweet voice always comforted him during the hardest times. He didn’t ask you to sing directly but he always listened whenever you hummed a simple tune or sang a song from some Disney movie to calm the kids in peds ward.

He took in every word that came from your lips. From what he’s heard so far from the first verse, it was about how the man lightened and took away the burden and sorrows the singer felt. The way you sang the song, it was beautiful. It was as if you were truly meaning the words that left your lips and he couldn’t help but feel the envy creeping back up at him, though at the same time, he’s conflicted with relief. He didn’t know if you’ve had someone during the past couple of years but as hurt as he is at the prospect of you with somebody else, it sort of gave him a sense of comfort thinking that you were getting taken care off. It eased some of the weight he felt and often times he thought maybe it was good that you separated. All he'd done with you the last few months of your relationship was hurt and neglect you and if you ever found someone that remedied that, maybe it was for the best that you left.

He watched your eyes flutter to a close again. The way your body moved to the melody of the music completely hypnotized him that his drink was deemed long forgotten.

Why then if he is so perfect, Do I still wish that it was you?

At those words, for some reason that gave him hope. He didn’t know if it was just the song but really, just the way you sang it made it seem all too genuine. He still loves you; he knew that very well. He also knows that he had a better chance in coming up with a new strategy in defeating Thanos (despite the many but one failed attempts he saw using the time stone), than ever getting back in a relationship with you.

You are the most kind, caring and understanding person he knew but you were also stubborn. He might have the chance in getting to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but a relationship was a billion to one cosmic fluke. Though that didn’t stop him from wondering if you meant those words.

You opened your eyes and continued with the song. He noticed you looking at the growing mass of people watching. From the corner booths to the door, he knew from that growing look at your face that you were surprised to say the least at how many were captivated by your performance.

Then you met his gaze. Those soft blues meeting that beautiful shade of your own eyes. God, how much he loved those shining y/e/c orbs could never be put into words. How they twinkle in the light. The comfort and understanding they held and how they always seem to know he felt.

When he woke up from the crash, the first thing he longed to find were your eyes. The warmth, comfort and security they held, he ached to see those beautiful orbs because for the briefest moments he forgot everything but you. You were his main thought. He forgot about the fight, the neglectful months before, the pale, emaciated figure of yours that haunts his dreams, everything. Only the kind, gorgeous face of the woman he fell for all those years ago stayed in his mind because whenever he thought of comfort, the only thing that formed in his head was, no… is you.

He was hurt, in pain, his body ached, he could barely see let alone open his eyes. He needed comfort, he needed you. But when was life ever nice.

Instead, he was met with the fluorescent lights of the hospital room and the horrific sight of the mangled hands that once led a successful career in medicine. There was no warming gaze to be greeted with, only the sad sympathetic ones he now knows to be from the wrong woman and a cold, sterile room.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

You stumbled over your words as you continued to look at each other. You continued singing but your eyes were locked together. Neither of you could look away. Your mouth moved on autopilot as your eyes lost the spark of a flame you had earlier, just like that night all those years ago, replaced by a reflection of the pain and grief he caused. The very same one that haunts his dreams.

A glimpse of us

You finished, your voice fading as the lyrics came to an end. As soon as the piano tuned out, you smiled and gave a little bow at the crowd who erupted in applause before leaving the stage in a hurry. Welled up tears spilled down warm cheeks as emotions and memories continued to riot your mind. After all these years he still managed to make you cry. Why can’t you move on?

You were quick on getting your belongings from the small prep area behind the stage however your plans of a speedy getaway were quickly ousted by the very same gentleman that perpetrated this whole ordeal.

‘You were amazing! The emotion you put in the performance…’ He continued to ramble on, looking past the curtain and to the roaring crowd cheering on for an encore, completely oblivious of his friend’s distraught state. ‘I mean the teary eyes, come on. Doctoring ever not work for you, acting could be something to con…’ he paused after finally getting a glimpse of you, swiftly wiping away tear streaks that ran down your cheeks but the growing redness in your eyes were dead give aways. ‘Shit’ finally piecing things together, he cursed, his attention fully set on you now. ‘It was real. Fuck, are you okay?’ he asked, finding it difficult figuring out what to do, yet a hint of urgency too as he still had to go back on stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ You swallowed, lying through your teeth. ‘I just… have to go’ you mumbled quickly, giving him a grin in hopes to resemble something as composed as the friend he knew. Though he knew you enough to know you were not ‘fine’, with great reluctance he let you go, rushing to the stage shortly after exchanging goodbyes and promising to check with him later.

As your friend went back on stage, you quickly took a survey of your appearance on a nearby mirror, making sure you didn’t look as dreadful as you felt. The bit of makeup you had on survived, however your eyes weren’t as forgiving being red. Nevertheless, you sped out to leave.

Considering your options, your only available exits were the front or back door and wanting to avoid individual who has left you in this state (just by being present), you turned to the corridor that lead to the back door but as unfortunate as you were, the exit was blocked by men hauling in delivery shipments and by the looks of things they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

You were antsy enough as it was and waiting by the second for them just added to your agitation. You really needed to leave now. A lump was lodging itself on your throat and the air around you seemed to be thinning. You need to leave NOW.

Swallowing all the anxieties you had, you had no choice but to rush out the front. You stayed on the side, avoiding the patrons and the one in particular perched up at the bar but unlucky you (your luck really seemed to have vanished really), the man saw your abrupt departure, unbeknownst to you.

You made it out to the street and the open air was a fresh welcome, letting you finally breath, whereas the establishment you had left felt suffocating.

You thought it was done. That the lump in your throat would finally dissolve as you walked down the street, thinking that you had successfully avoided the now famed sorcerer of New York. The hero, Doctor Strange…

but when was life ever good to you.

‘y/n…’ he breathed out, catching the sight of you sprinting toward the doors he entered only moments before. It pulled him out of his reverie, wondering if he should talk to you, what he’d talk to you about, an apology perhaps, contemplation of your years together, however the sight of you pulled him out like it always did, especially in the beginning. He sometimes had the tendency to be too deep in thought, he’d ignore everything and everyone in his surroundings, but he always caught you. Your scent, your voice, let alone your image, it always drew him from his stupor.

Now the sight of you cemented his thoughts.

Downing the last of his drink, he pulled a bill from his wallet and slammed it down the counter without so much as a look onto how much it was before he scurried out, chasing after you. (Like he should have done all those years ago)

He called out your name once he reached the sidewalk, turning left and right in search for you. The street wasn’t crowded much so it was easy to spot the figure stood still a few yards away to his right. With the last few rays of the dying sun and dim streetlight, he made out the curled head of hair the same shade as yours the figure had, and he just knew it was you.

‘Y/N!’ he nearly shouted, causing a few heads to turn in his direction but not yours. You kept your back to him as he sprinted your way. He knew you heard him. You would have kept on walking had you not.

It only took a second to reach you and when he did, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach for you and plead for forgiveness. On his knees if he had to. Instead, he opted for another call for your name, hoping you’d finally face him.

And you did, after dropping your hands to your side, he heard a small sniff before you turned to him with your gorgeous smile and said (in a somewhat forced cheer in your voice)

‘Stephen. Hi’

‘Hi’ he replied densely. You idiot, he thought at how stupid his response was.

A silence fell over you both as Stephen canvassed your entirety now at a closer distance. He took in every graceful line, freckle and strand of hair he saw to memory. Every little detail he took in was as important as every breath he took. How bloodshot your eyes were didn’t go unnoticed though. Puffy around the eyelids from crying, red possibly from -he guessed- how hard you were rubbing them just before he reached you.

Surprising thing is, it still broke his heart seeing the distress you so clearly were trying to hide. The thought of tears running down your cheeks, was illegal. They had no business in gracing your face yet, he can’t help but realize that he just keeps being the reason you were left in that state. Where were all these sympathies back then? He asked himself, the very night flashing through his mind.

‘Stephen’ you said again, taking him out of head again. He missed that though. His name coming off your lips. It brought him back to all the mornings with you in bed, tangled in sheets as the morning glory woke you up and you woke him up with that honey sweet voice with the say of his name. Stephen

‘Sorry, um…’ he coughed, trying to piece a sentence, words, anything really that didn’t end in three syllables.

‘You were wonderful’ he finally managed, okay that’s five ‘Back there at the bar…. you were amazing’ like always, he wanted to add but stopped himself, pointing back to where he just left.

‘Thank you’ you muttered, nodding your head before leaving it down to look at your shoes. The way you responded lacked any sort of confidence, as if you didn’t believe his words or yourself. Truthfully, you were never really the most confident, even back then but always did step up when the situation needed. Either that’s the reason or you didn’t believe him, which considering his case, why should you.

Your hands were fidgeting, he noticed. Running and marking the bones of one hand with your fingers tips before your nails would start to pick on skin. This was something new to him. A new nervous habit of yours he hadn’t known before, so it was most likely picked up after your separation.

The person in front of him wasn’t the same one he knew all those years ago yet, still so similar and the same. He remembers everything about you, so if anything of the woman he knew back then was still in there, he knew by how you were acting that you were uncomfortable, agitated.

‘Really, you were amazing’ he affirmed, really wanting you to believe him, or at least to believe how wonderful you really are. ‘Truly, but are you okay?’

He’d done it. Ask that stupid question and that’s what broke the dam, causing the river to run past it with no mercy.

He heard a laugh at first, your hand raising towards your face. The sound bordered on maniacal, nothing like the one he loved but familiar enough to know he has heard it before. Slowly, your head rose, your hand half covering your mouth, half wiping away the rivers that flowed down your cheeks. The sight finally triggered the memory he was looking for. It was all too similar to that night, it felt like déjà vu.

‘um’ you started, finally managing to say after that little fit ‘I could lie but what’s the point? No. I’m not. I’m not okay because you’re here. Fuck, I actually thought that I could get away from this but no, evidently not.’ You tried to reason, looking him straight in the eyes ‘Christ Stephen, I was okay. I was okay when I was singing, I was okay ten minutes ago but then you just came out of no where and now I’m not okay. I’m never okay whenever it comes to you. Not anymore.’ You spit like venom, unrelenting in your streak to get out all your pain because of him. ‘I thought I could be civil but… I-I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m gonna go. Enjoy your night’ you hurried, saying your goodbyes and turning your back to him to walk away. You would have gone had he not called you back in such a pleading tone.

‘please’ he begs and for some reason and it compels you to listen. You halt your steps, you don’t turn around, but you do wipe away your tears and he takes that as his chance to apologize for everything.

‘I’m sorry.’ He starts, his own eyes teary ‘I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and it…’ he swallows that lump in his throat, trying to get the rest of his words out ‘it haunts me every day. You’re the kindest person I know, and I took you for granted. I was an arrogant piece of shit, too self-absorbed to even notice that the woman I love was working herself to death.’ You start to turn around ’You were the purest thing I knew and you didn’t deserve the monster I was. And I am so sorry for who I was then. I’ve changed or I’m trying to change, to be better than- than that monster that hurt you and I could only hope for your forgiveness because, you were always someone I never wanted to lose, and I did. By a stupid mistake and horrible decisions.’ His tears start to run, and you finally face him ‘I never wanted to let you go but I was hurting you more than I was loving you and I understand if I don’t get your forgiveness but, I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you. For taking you for granted. For not treating you how you deserved to be treated. For everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and hearing myself admit this… really just proves I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did and that… that you deserve.’

You stare at him with tears running down both your eyes and he sees the same urge to wipe them away, in you. The hesitant twitch of your arm as if by instinct, to move and act on the need to clear away his tears and comfort him. At least that’s what he interprets the move of your arm because that’s exactly what you would have done, that’s exactly your character and he wants to do the same. To dry away your tears and take you in his arms in respite.

But you act against those thoughts, only balling your fist as some form of control. You stare into him, as if gauging to find the lie in his words yet there is none and he sees something in your eyes that he can’t explain before they dart away. He watches as you scan your surroundings, looking at the people likely to be watching you both but he didn’t care for them. He only cared about you.

When your eyes turned back to him, you closed them immediately, face scrunching as you desperately tried to hold back to tears but to him, it was as if you were so pained by the mere sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t chip away a piece of his heart.

Your head bowed for a bit as you tried to compose yourself but the words that left your lips once you rose again, only broke more of his heart.

‘You’re forgiven’ you were quick to say before turning back and walking away from him. He watched with wet cheeks, as you sped away from him, and he kept his gaze on you until you disappeared around the corner and then you were gone.

For what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes on that street corner, hoping for something that won’t happen. He knew that whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen, but a man could hope, right? Though hopes are as easy to diminish as they are to ignite. Grief and disappointment, they tend to last.

The sun had set and streetlights and buildings are all that lit the side walk where Stephen stood. A man well known to the people and thus, there were those who were bound to watch the spectacle put on by the hero. Small crowds had formed over time as they watched the powerful sorcerer confess to the dreadful things he’s done to some doctor from before his fame, asking for forgiveness to all the terrible things he’s done.

To new passersby, they’d wonder why a hero of the city stood so stiff, looking at oblivion. They’d wonder for a minute without context before walking away with a shrug, figuring much more important things to think of.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, til the lone man was all that remained the lone street, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

A/U: I've read this way too much to do a final proof read so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and spellings and all that. Thanks for the read though

I'm hoping that the people who asked to be tagged don't mind me tagging them this late in the game and I hope you liked it. Hopefully it was worth the wait @strangesweetheart @evelynrosestuff @vesta-ro @doodle-cat16 @nabiilahadid @evansmusk @circe143 @dracoflaco

50 notes · View notes

stxrvel · 1 year

Text

the outbreak: extra (1.5)

summary: you had a word with bucky on your way to your last mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +2.5k

warnings: some bad words and slight angst.

note: hey! this wasn't planned but i wanted to add something else to the story that was surely missing. i hadn't thought about the self destructive behaviors we normalize in our daily lives and sometimes that is reflected in what we write. this conversation was something i had envisioned but hadn't seen possible, but i decided to finish it and post it after a whole day of reflection. this talk was perhaps VERY specific, but i've had conversations like this with my friends, so i hope you understand what i am trying to visualize. you can read it before or after part 2! the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

part 1

Clint was extremely quiet and curiously attentive. As you prepared everything to enter the Quinjet, you shared a silent moment that was uncharacteristic of him. Generally, he would begin a pleasant and seemingly normal chat, until he would start jabbing at you with his off-hand comments and jokes about anything that came to mind.

The Clint Barton who was with you in the armory room was not your typical Clint. You began to wonder what would have happened to keep him so quiet when you saw out of the corner of your eye that Bucky entered the room.

He hadn't been able to convince Fury to send Steve in his place on the mission, and during that week you had seen him only once, about twenty yards away. You wanted to pretend (as usual) that things hadn't broken down between the two of you. That that argument had never happened and that Bucky had never found out about the real thoughts going around in your head. That everything was just running its normal course and you still considered yourselves co-workers, at least.

But it was just you playing pretend.

Bucky walked past you, grabbed the weapons he needed, the razors and knives he handled so well, a couple of grenades that he carefully stowed in the loop of his suitcase and headed for the exit without a single glance at anyone.

Clint had his back to you, but you could feel his body tense, so still you could barely tell he was breathing, as if moving between you would set off a bomb or something.

“The Quinjet is ready,” Bucky exclaimed as he stopped in front of the door. “Don't be long.”

And he got out without further ado.

The mood didn't change later, when Bucky was piloting the Quinjet having a chance to leave it on automatic and Clint was sitting with you in the back of the ship, as far away from you as possible. You watched his figure in front of you and how he sent you wary glances from time to time. The situation was becoming tedious.

You knew you were pretending not to know what was going on. You were pretending that no one felt the tension that formed when you and Bucky were in the same room, mostly being emitted from your body because the man was like a big ice cube. It was the indifference you had seen so much of him direct at other people, especially those he didn't trust, and you never thought it would be directed at you. It hurt more than you could imagine.

So for that reason you preferred to just keep the image in your head of everything that had happened before that fateful day. Maybe your mind thought it would be easier to deal with the rejection that way, because you did know it would happen, and it had taken time for the moment to arrive, but when it finally had it swept in and took everything with it, leaving you just taking it all in in the deep silence.

When the Quinjet came to a stop at its destination, Bucky walked back between you and Clint to head for the rear ramp of the ship. He quietly grabbed his things and stepped out.

Clint had moved to unbuckle his seat belt when you felt the need to ask the question. You moved to mimic the man in front of you.

“Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” Clint turned to look at you in confusion, his brow furrowed, when he had fully risen.

You watched his figure begin to move toward the front of the Quinjet and felt everything inside you strangely stir.

“As if you were afraid someone would suddenly start burning up next to you.”

“Not true.”

You turned to look at the man with an ingrown eyebrow, and Clint only gave you a look of complete naivety as he sat down in front of the ship's controls. You walked over to where you had left your backpack and began putting away the few things you were going to need.

“You're too tense.”

Clint clicked his tongue. His body slumped over the big chair and he shifted his feet on the floor until he was facing you.

“It's just… being around you two is too uncomfortable. In and of itself just seeing Bucky these past few days is scary.”

You frowned as you moved your hands inside your backpack. You picked up one of the pocketknives Natasha had given you, with rose embroidery on the black handle. You saw out of the corner of your eye the pistol you had been given as equipment to use in case of emergencies, and you hesitated whether or not to take it.

“Why is it uncomfortable?”

You heard the man let out a laugh before answering. “Are you kidding me? The atmosphere is so tense that I could jump in the air and get caught in an invisible mesh.”

“Of course not. There's no discomfort at all. We're fine,” you repeated your mantra with an assurance that surprised you.

You took the gun in your hands after observing it for several minutes and felt its weight between your fingers, as if telling a story you didn't want to know. Will you carry it with you or…?

“You seem to have repeated that to yourself too many times to believe it. Cute.”

“It is what it is.”

Clint sighed and watched you carefully. Your gaze on the gun did not allow you to see him examine your figure for a while, and you barely noticed the silence that formed between the two of you. Clint, then, remembered something.

“Do you really think no one heard the argument you two had last week?”

You raised your head. You went blank. You let the gun drop into the backpack again and furrowed your brow, followed by closing it and putting it back where you had initially left it. You watched Clint warily, his serious face giving you to understand that he wasn't playing with you.

“The walls aren't that thick.”

You couldn't help but simply not answer him for several seconds because what were you going to say to him? You couldn't go back to saying that everything was fine between you and Bucky because clearly everyone now knew you had something and that an angry Bucky doesn't listen to any excuses and is unkind in that state.

That explained a lot about the sneaky looks you sometimes felt when you walked around the Complex and the therapist's card Steve had accidentally left at the foot of your bedroom door.

You saw Clint again with the face of someone caught red-handed, and at the same time you felt vulnerable because under no circumstances would that possibility have crossed your mind.

Would Bucky even know?

“Can you pretend with me?”

The man sighed, but seeing your agonized expression he agreed.

And then you had to go out to meet Bucky.

You had landed about a kilometer from the distance of the target, which was a small house in an abandoned industrial town. With the information gathered, you had been able to learn the nearest location of the target within some of the houses that were within a fifty meter radius from the center of the town. Clint, already in charge of the Quinjet, would leave to supervise from the height that everything was in order, and give air support if necessary.

Bucky was a few meters away from the Quinjet, his things arranged in their respective places and with his binoculars he observed the town from his position.

“It looks desolate,” you couldn't help but comment to break the choking silence.

The man hummed in response a nod and lowered the binoculars to pass them to you without turning to look at you.

“Look east from the center. It's the only house that has light.”

You took the object he offered you careful not to brush against his skin, and promptly used them to peer into the distance. In the center of the village there was a fountain that served as a traffic circle to connect the main roads. Looking to the east, even though it was daylight, you could notice electricity highlighting one of the houses.

“It could be the target.”

“Or a trap.”

You lowered the binoculars.

“Do you have to be so gloomy?”

Bucky gave you the first look of the day. His eyes were not rough and his expression was not coarse like the few times you had seen him before, he seemed a little calmer than before, but you tried not to raise your hopes thinking that clearly the man had to maintain professionalism during the mission. And you had to do the same. Starting by stopping over-analyzing him.

He looked like he wanted to answer you, or say something else, but he just turned around and started walking towards the path that led to the village.

You definitely wanted to say something, even though you also wanted to remain professional, because you didn't want to spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes in stony silence and with your thoughts being the only thing that answered the questions in your head.

Instinctively, you kept thinking that you still had that kind of relationship with Bucky. Like you'd ask him a question about anything and he'd answer trivially and then you'd tell him something super curious about the sky and the trees and he'd listen like he was being told the truths of the universe.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Why did everything have to have been complicated like this?

You walked through the dry grass and stones, enduring the silence for several minutes. Every time you looked up to see the town, you felt it receding instead of coming closer. Bucky's body in front of you moved easily through the grass, almost as if he were levitating through nature.

Again, you felt that itch in your mouth with the urge to say something to fill the silence, but your mind suppressed your body's instincts. You hated it when routines disappeared, especially when they involved people who were important to you. You didn't like the sense of loss that came with the truth and that you had thought that by that point you would be more than used to it, but it seemed you had only fooled yourself.

You did it before and you were doing it then. Some things just wouldn't change.

You were seriously thinking about starting to talk to the trees when you heard his voice:

“I'm sorry.”

What?

“What?”

Bucky sighed, and after a few seconds you thought he wouldn't speak again and that he had only, unlike you, let his impulses win the battle, until you heard him again:

“I regret how I acted the last time we spoke.”

His words left you perplexed. You had expected anything less than to start a conversation about it, especially to apologize.

You frowned, not knowing exactly what to say. You weren't used to people showing that kind of remorse after walking away from your life. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, and feared the direction the conversation would take.

“Well, you had your reasons for being angry…”

“Yes, I had reasons to be angry, but all I did when you gave me the truth was walk away. That wasn't the right thing to do.”

“Well, what else were you going to do? If you stayed and hugged me you weren't going to solve anything. It's okay, Bucky, it's not like I was expecting you to do anything different.”

The man stopped his steps, and you would have collided with his back had you not been a safe distance away, your legs trying to match his stride, but failing miserably.

You saw his body turn in your direction with a puzzled expression. You tried to hide in the back of your mind the voice that constantly reminded you not to talk about those subjects. You didn't want to evoke those sensations that kept you religiously away from your feelings, the defensive actions of your own head trying to keep the boat of your sanity afloat. You didn't want Bucky to keep harping on the subject, but you knew he would.

“Are you saying that-?”

Bucky shut his mouth. Before he finished speaking, he pursed his lips into a line and took a deep breath. You could glimpse that he was dealing with his own thoughts at that moment.

“It's not normal, Y/N, nor good for a person to leave you like I did after telling you something with so much meaning to you. And also, that it took me this long to bring it up...”

You hummed in response. He was telling you the same thing that many other people had told you throughout your life, but you didn't know why his were causing your body to react differently. It was like having your chest spread out like the wings of a butterfly. It was such a strange sensation, so foreign to you that you were unconsciously afraid of it. You didn't want to feel it. You wanted it to go away.

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I was an unconscious idiot. That's why.”

The man resumed his march as he finished speaking, and you had to wiggle quickly to keep up with him. You felt your head moving a thousand miles, as if it could travel a hundred times back and forth the village road without stopping for air once. You couldn't find a way out of the conversation, so you tried to beat around the bush.

“But aren't you a little hard on yourself? You're going to therapy, aren't you? You have things to deal with, too.”

“Maybe you're used to people leaving you, but that doesn't mean it's okay.”

You furrowed your brow, almost stopping your steps and watching his back. It wasn't okay for people to leave you? You'd lost count of all the times you'd asked yourself that question since you'd had the conscience to do it. You didn't want to think that the world was cruel to you, that people were mean to you, but that the world and people didn't have to deal with the shit you carried around.

The words died in your mouth when Bucky stopped again and that time you almost crashed into him.

“I didn't mean it that way. The truth is, people suck, and there will be plenty of fuckers who decide to leave rather than stay and help you grow. Maybe you met a lot of them and started to see them as normal, but that's not the case. That's not usual, much less with someone you consider your friend.”

“Friend?”

Bucky nodded in response.

“As in appreciation and respect?”

“Yes, you couldn't have defined it better.”

You saw him look away, suddenly sinking into his thoughts before resuming his march on his way into town. You followed him, that time more closely thankful that he was no longer jogging like he was in a marathon. There was a contradiction of emotions in your chest and in your head. There was a part of you that liked what Bucky said, that actually rejoiced in his response and appreciated his sincere apology; but there was another part of you that continued to disown his tokens of appreciation, that didn't want him to see you from above as if you were a little ant he could step on with his shoes.

That part of you that wanted to believe his words clashed with the part of you that didn't want to be vulnerable again.

“I was supposed to be that for you. Then I pushed you too hard, didn't know how to talk things out and also didn't know how to deal with the response I got. I was too angry, but that shouldn't have been a justification.”

“You wouldn't have gotten the information out of me any other way, you know that?”

“I don't think so.”

“You would never have gotten it. If you had stopped, I would have put up walls to keep you from ever coming near me again.”

You meant what you said, and Bucky knew you did. Suddenly, you felt as if in that moment you could deploy the walls to stop him from talking.

“I'm not justifying anything I did, Y/N, I also don't want to say that's how it was supposed to happen because I'm sure I would have found another way. If I hadn't let my emotions win…”

“Can we just let it be? I already know you're sorry and I told you everything was okay.”

“But nothing is okay.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, you're trying to avoid the subject.”

You snorted loudly. You hate it. You didn't want to be rude to him, but you were reaching a limit you could barely tolerate when dealing with such topics.

“Can you blame me? I feel like I've already exhausted all the feelings talk I could possibly have in a year.”

“It's not wrong to talk about these things…”

“And, still, I'd rather not.”

Suddenly, it was like having a rush of adrenaline running through your body. You started to move your legs quickly, and surprisingly you were able to overtake Bucky and start walking ahead of him. Although you looked as if you were not too affected by Bucky being this insistent with your feelings, you actually had your heart beating at an impressive speed. Your chest contracted with every breath and you felt a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly it seemed that the temperature had dropped drastically and your hands were breaking out in a cold sweat. A shiver ran through your body and you felt fear at the possibility of Bucky bringing up that subject again.

“You should consider seeing Dr. Green.”

You stopped your steps. You watched Bucky walk toward you and not stop as you asked him, "How do you know about that? Did Steve tell you about the stupid card?"

The man gave you a sidelong glance.

“I gave it to him.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky fluff #bucky x you #marvel #bucky imagine #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fluff #the outbreak

661 notes · View notes

kathanglangit · 7 months

Text

The First Blade: Balaraw - Winged Dagger

I realize I haven't been explicit about it on here yet (mostly because I'm not the best at keeping all my social media profiles up to date), but I am involved in the development of a Tabletop Roleplaying Game It's called Gubat Banwa- a TTRPG based around tactical grid combat, contemplative war drama, and high-flying martial arts, all of which taking place in an unapologetically Southeast Asian-inspired fantasy setting, developed by @makapatag with art direction by @villain-returns. Initially I developed the script that is used in the gamebook and diegetically in the setting- called Kasuratan- but I'll talk about that elsewhere.

With the Kickstarter launch imminent, I thought I'd do a bunch of Twitter X threads on a bunch of weapons I've drawn for the game counting down the final week before the launch. Then I thought: "Why aren't I posting these on tumblr also, at least I wouldn't lose my mind over character counts over here"- so here we are. These were supposed to be posted as Swordtember drawings, but then the KS launch got moved to October. Most of these blades are of Philippine make, since that is where my knowledge-base is and what I'm comfortable enough to share knowledge about. I thought it'd be nice to share a bit of blade knowledge from some of the cultures that inspired the setting. Without further ado, let us begin with the BALARAW.

Also known as a "winged dagger", it is characterized by its unique shape, consisting of a short leaf-shaped blade driven with the tang out into a hilt with two distinct protrusions, creating three prongs on the back with the tang included.

(Photos from an exhibit at The Met)

They may be held at the hilt like a regular knife, or they may be held in a manner not too dissimilar from how our neighbors in Southeast Asia hold keris. One may imagine it like a "push dagger" for lack of other reference points. It might be likened to the katar as well, in some sense.

(Sketches by the Gubat Banwa Art Director himself) Nowadays, the blade is frequently attributed to the People of the Upstream- the Mandaya group of peoples- though they would have seen much wider use in their day, likely also spanning across what is now the Visayas region of the Philippines.

(Modern rendition by Panday Keiven Tolentino of Itak Mindoro, Photo by Ramon H. Bathan) Something I've noticed from looking at Philippine blades all the time is that symmetrical, double-edged blades like these are rare, here. Blades that lend themselves more to stabbing than anything else aren't very prevalent either, and blades that do not- at first glance- appear to be made with tool use/foliage clearing/farmwork in mind don't make up the majority of specimens. The balaraw is unique in several different respects, and any self-respecting warrior Kadungganan of Gubat Banwa's Sword Isles would do well to mind its bite. The weapon makes an appearance in Gubat Banwa in the hands of the Beast Hunter- one of the many Disciplines ("character classes") whose techniques your character can learn in-game.

The Gubat Banwa Kickstarter launches in 7 days! Check it out here:

We'd appreciate any and all help in getting the word out. Support an independent TTRPG made by a team from the global south, looking to make waves through a fantasy setting where the Southeast Asian inspirations takes center stage!

113 notes · View notes

awkwardtickleetoo · 1 month

Text

Ler!Sapnap Week Day 1 - Antsy

heyyyy……… in the midst of a we’re so over… came an indescribable… we’re so back…. (kinda)

so!! this is a fic for @sleepy--anon ‘s ler!sapnap week!!! woooo!!!! i know it’s a little bit late, but better late than never, right?? and i have two other ones for ler!sap week coming out as soon as i get them finished so it’ll basically be like its on time <3

this is for day 1’s prompt which is antsy!! make sure you check out the original post here, and make sure you show sleepy your love and support for putting this week together in the first place!!! thank you so much sleepy for working so hard to make this a thing, i am very excited to read what you and everyone else wrote, and for you to see what i have planned :D without further ado, let’s get into day 1!!

ler!sapnap, lee!dream, 1.3k words

enjoy!

“Dream?” Sapnap called out as he walked in the front door of their home, phone camera pointed at the floor.

“Yeah?” Dream’s voice called back to him distantly, a layer of nerves apparent in the word.

“Clay?” Sapnap called again, his tone more teasy and knowing as Dream stepped into the room, a wide smile and anxious expression on his face.

“Oh god…” He grumbled, fidgeting with his fingers and slowly stepping closer to Sapnap.

“He's here,” Sapnap confirmed Dream’s suspicions, making his smile grow wider as he groaned, throwing his hands over his face and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sapnap chuckled at his reaction, smiling at his already flushed cheeks as he dropped his hands down by his sides and looked over at Sapnap with wide, anticipating eyes. “Are you excited?” He asked, adjusting the camera in his hands, still keeping it pointed at their shoes, not wanting to overwhelm Dream by shoving a camera in his face during such an intense moment, even though he was aware it was recording.

“I am… very nervous!” Dream said, voice high pitched and wavering, taking in a shaky breath and falling into nervous, fluttery laughter afterwards. Sapnap laughed fondly at his reaction again, his eyebrows furrowing at how excited and downright adorable his best friend was acting.

“Nervous and excited!” Sapnap supplied helpfully, reaching out to rub his palm over Dream’s forearm to comfort him, swinging his arm side to side to release some of the tension he held in his body. Dream laughed, light and breathy, the butterflies clearly bubbling up in his chest, showcased by his unsure voice and antsy movements, unable to stand still. He nodded at Sapnap’s words, tapping the toe of his shoe against the floor, then his heels, then hopping up and down a few times all together, his shoes squeaking against the floor with his anxieties.

“I’m nervous, but I’m excited, I’m– I’m doing… excited hops,” Dream explained, continuing his hopping in place, biting his lip to hold back his cheek-splitting smile. Between hops, he stayed on his toes, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, trying to loosen himself up and calm down his tense body. Sapnap cooed fondly at him, squeezing his arm where his hand still rested, unable to hold back the feeling of what could only be called cute aggression he was feeling for the other boy. How could Dream be this adorable? It was just unfair.

“You’re so fucking cute, Dream,” He said, unable to help himself, yanking Dream closer to him by his wrist and looping his arm around Dream’s waist. Dream squealed at his actions, letting Sapnap tuck himself into his side and rest his hand on his hip, breaking out into giggles.

“Shut up, you,” Dream replied, but he wrapped his arms around Sapnap’s shoulders, resting his cheek on Sapnap’s head. Despite everything, his body relaxed in Sapnap’s hold, the comforting hug being exactly what he needed at that time. He had never been more grateful to have someone like Sapnap in his life. He would be sure to tell him that once everything settled down more.

“I can’t! You just– you’re just like– I don’t know! You’re just being so cute, I hate you!” Sapnap expressed, tightening his arm around Dream and squeezing him tighter, giggling and looking up at Dream as he broke into soft giggles again. “Fuck, I just like– I wanna, like–“ Sapnap stammered, unable to find the right words to describe how he felt, instead deciding to progress with actions. Suddenly, he latched his hand onto the spot above Dream’s hip, squeezing the spot mercilessly and holding Dream close against him so he couldn’t push away. Dream gasped, his whole body tensing again, letting out a squeal as he flinched away from the feeling, but found himself going nowhere at all.

“AH– no! Nononono, noho!” Dream protested, pulling his arms back and pushing at Sapnap’s shoulders, leaning away from him to try and shove him off, but his arm was too firm around his waist. “Sapnahahap!”

“I can’t help it, you're just too adorable!”

“Stohohohop!” Dream shook his head at the feeling, loose curls falling over his face. Sapnap giggled at him, pushing his arm further around his waist, the tips of his fingers able to reach his lower tummy, scratching and wiggling just outside his belly button over his thin shirt, making him squeal. He tried to twist away, arching his back and sucking in his stomach as he pushed back into Sapnap, but Sapnap didn’t budge. Dream pushed at Sapnap’s arm, smacking his hand lightly as he tried to pry it off him, but his attempts were futile due to his weakened state, and all he could do was squirm in Sapnap’s arms as his little hops returned.

“Aw, where you goin’, cutie?” Sapnap pulled Dream closer, his side pressed into his chest now, and pressed the back of his other hand into Dream’s opposite hip to keep him in place, as much as he could without letting go of the phone he was still holding.

“Sahahap–! Thehehe– the vihideohoho!” He reminded, attempting to push the phone away instead, his laughter turning hiccupy when Sapnap pulled his hand back and turned Dream more, now able to grab onto his other side and squeeze above his hip there as well, keeping the phone out of his reach.

“Oh, I know, George is gonna love this,” Sapnap teased, pulling Dream backwards into him as he continued to tickle him to pieces.

“Nohohoho!” Dream protested, his legs growing shaky from having to lean due to the way Sapnap was holding him, and he stomped his foot on the ground to try to regain some stability. Sapnap decided to take pity on him, stopping the tickling and pushing forward to help Dream stand again, keeping his arm around his waist as Dream caught his breath.

“Okay, okay, I’m done. You were just being so cute I couldn’t help it. You understand,” He explained, going back to Dream’s side once he was stable again and hugging him properly, the way they’d started. Dream scoffed at his words, rolling his eyes, but he hugged Sapnap back tightly anyway. “Besides, you can’t say it didn’t loosen you up.”

“You’re so dumb,” Dream replied fondly, earning a soft hum of ‘mhmmm’ in return from Sapnap. He pressed a soft kiss to Sapnap’s head, and they stood in silence for a few moments, before Sapnap seemed to remember that he did, in fact, have a reason for coming inside, and they probably shouldn’t keep George waiting much longer.

“Alright,” Sapnap whispered as he pulled back from the hug, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie and switching his phone to the opposite hand, making sure everything was still set up to continue recording for George. “C’mon, cutie, let’s go outside,” Sapnap said, reaching up and fixing a stray few pieces of hair that were out of place, slightly tousled from his movements.

“I need a minute! I need a minute, let– let me collect myself,” Dream said, his nerves coming back in full force, his eyes wide and unsure as he let out a soft breath to try and relax.

“That’s okay! Take your time! This is a big day. We’ll wait outside for you, as long as you need,” Sapnap reassured, rubbing up and down Dream’s arm as the other boy placed a hand on his stomach, seemingly trying to quell the butterflies that arose inside very quickly.

“Okay, okay…” Dream nodded, and Sapnap nodded as well, patting Dream’s arm before turning to walk towards the door. “Hey,” Dream said before Sapnap left, looking at him with a soft smile when he turned around. “Thank you. For everything,” He said quietly, and Sapnap smiled back at him just as fondly.

“Of course. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else.” And with that, Sapnap made his way back through the front door and outside to wait with George, bringing the camera back up in front of him, ready to continue on with the beginning of the rest of their lives.

#ler!sapnap #lee!dream #cals writing #sleepy anon #sleepy’s ler!sapnap week #sleepy thank you again for your patience #i know your week kinda got ruined but i really appre you sticking through everything and letting me still add on even if im late to it #we really really appreciate you <3 and i hope you like this #i think it turned out really cute :(#i love dreamnap and i love meetup dteam so much #face reveal dream you are like a precious baby deer to me #just learning how to walk…..#i hope everyone enjoys this!!

21 notes · View notes

itzalizeyyy · 11 months

Text

𝟑𝐃/𝟒𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

hii, its Alizey again! Back with another void post. You probably already know a lot of these things already. But I think displaying a diagram might help give you a visual and understanding. Without further ado, lets get into it !

I bet many are familiar with the 3d. The 3d is the plane of physicalness. It attains your senses, it attains your sight. So, when you are constantly assuming a desire, and the 3d shows the opposite, of course, it is very human to react to it negatively.

But the solution to that is..stop giving the 3d power. The 3d doesn’t determine your success. You do that all by yourself. You have your own abilities and control. Use it.

Stop blaming the 3d. Stop victimizing yourself. Stop living in a state of lacking and start living in the state of having. Do not give your beautiful attention to the 3d, to the old news, to the old story. That shit is irrelevant. That shit is historical. That shit is ancient. Focus on the now. You can choose the now. You can choose the present. Whatever your assumption is, it is the truth, it is fact, it is the present because you decide it to be so.

Walk into your assumption, accept it as the truth regardless of what the 3d is presenting. The 3d is the past now, so don’t look back, but forward.

I get it guys. It took me about two years to shape and adjust my views. We were all underneath the social conditioning of the CR and its logic. These topics, these concepts, are very contradicting to what know and learned in our whole lives.

“We not actually a human everywhere but an awareness?”

“there is more than one reality?”

“I have the power to change anything?” Etc etc.

But yes, all of these things are true. It may take time to adapt, but once you do and become aware of your power that many people in the world ignore, you really can do anything.

Your sub-consciousness is omg amazing and beautiful and so much more smarter than you. The sub-con is aware of all of your goods and bads in your inner thoughts. It is able to seperate it, and only deliever the goods to the 4d. This is why you don’t see anything negative in your 4d. There is no doubts or fears. Only your wanted assumptions, intentions, and much more.

As you can see, the sub-con and 4d work tightly together. If there is no sub-con, there is nothing in the 4d. If there is no 4d, the sub-con wouldn’t have a plane to deliver your goods.

Of course, the 4d is not a physical plane. But it is in fact our truest reality. But the 3d is a physical plane. The 3d is the embodiment of 4d, it gives the physical copy and reflection of what is stored in the 4d.

Basically this is how I imagine if they had literal conversations:

Sub con: “yo 4d whats up homie”

4d: “nothing much. You got something new for me?”

Sub-con: “you know it. Alright so our person desires to get hammered by their anime crushes. Nothing new.”

4d: “wow. I mean. I support.”

Sub-con “oh wait AND they want to be in the void already.”

4d: “say less. The void be dope.”

Sub-con: “wait hold up. Why the 3d not changing?”

4d: “huh thats weird. 3d girl why you not changing?”

3d: “leave me alone. I am going through it.”

4d: “stop slacking and change dude. This is ur job.”

3d: “stfu.”

Sub-con: “wait I know what happening. Our person paying too much attention to the 3d rather than their own assumptions.”

4d: “ohhh well they need to change it up cause 3d is not worth their attention.”

Sub-con: “fr”

*next day after you start to assume and persist*

Sub con: “ayeee 4d our person got it.”

4d: “ayeee our person is dope. Alright 3d you better obey you mf. You got no choice.”

3d: “f u but fine.”

*your desire show up in the 3d*

*sub-con, 4d, and you celebrating 🥳🥳*

. . .

Don’t get me wrong, if law of assumption isn’t your cup of tea, then you aren’t require to use it! But it is such an amazing and effective tool. But always remember to do things YOUR way and what will benefit you the most.

Hope you guys enjoy and if you any questions or want to chat my messages are open!

#void state #loa blog #lawofassumption #neville goddard #reality shifting #affirmdaily #affirmyourreality #shifting journey #affirm and persist #self concept #living in the end #void

92 notes · View notes

sygol · 5 months

Text

ⓘ due to the way that tumblr mobile works, audio files will play one after another, all of the following audios are only a few seconds long but have a minute of silence preceding them, this is to make the post work, just ignore the added silence

and now, without further ado, we present, THE POST...

... and one last slow even breath outwards, you are expelling all those wicked spirits from the basin of your stomach, none of them will get caught in your teeth, i promise. this has been the spiritual mindful meditation audio tape number 34, now think, has anything been troubling you lately, any worries resting on your mind?

hey you, hellllooo, its me, magic 8 ball, im lodged in between your teeth bitch, whats up with that?? cmonnn, please get me out.. be a doll and dig your fingernail in there? right into the crevice of those teeth of yours, the ones that are a little too close together,

ouf ...whew! thanks for getting me out of there, i was wedged between two of your nasty bones, almost thought for sure id be trapped in there forever, but luckily you were listening for me... why are you looking at me like that? alright, alriiight... i owe you one, go ahead ask me that question and then

EHEHEHE ehehe hh hh wait wait, i think i got this one aha.. hold up let me catch my breath, hh h

not likely HAHA you should see the look on your face, its— hey hey what are you doing

there you go. you didnt need that guy anyways, i wouldnt trust his words, i think they come from a wicked place, reaaallllly sketchy, like bad vibes man, im telling you, he literally dropped out of your mouth.. youre wondering who i am? me?? ive been here with you all along! ive been believing in you the whole way, your entire life, its me.. your heart.

ive been beating for you almost 5000 times an hour, every day of every week, 365 baby, i fucking love you dude, you got this, its gonna be okay, and dont let anyone or anything EVER tell you otherwise.

#t3

44 notes · View notes

falloutjuli · 1 year

Text

Time to post some Johnny content, since that man has been my brainrot for the past few days since I finished SBR. Its also my first time posting anything for JJBA so Im hella excited to share (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

I hope you too get a kick out of this, I wanted it to be winter themed for the occasion. I apologize for any spelling or grammar erros, english isnt my first language, but I do try my best.

Without further ado, Johnny x Reader - Warm me up

Johnny and you share your sleeping bag to stay warm together

__________________________________________________

"Holy shit it's cold." You moaned, as you were sure your fingers were frozen by now despite the gloves.

"Agreed. We better soon make a fire and take a break." Gyro agreed and went to look for a nice place to set their camp up. Johnny trotted besides him, looking equally cold. "Would ya mind gathering some firewood?" Gyro asked you, and you agreed, just wanting to get off of your beloved horse and take a break.

You slid of the saddle, lading with a "oomph" sound in the thick snow. "I see a little cave up there, we set up camp there, yeah?" Gyro said and began making his way. Johnny smiled at you before following his friend.

Walking was a nice change after having been on horseback all day but after a while, that sucked too, so you were happy once you found a last good piece of wood to use and made your way to the little cave. It wasn't deep at all, it gave just enough cover from the snow and wind.

Johnny and Gyro had already unpacked their sleeping bags and were seated on them, discussing their plans for the route tomorrow. When the Italian spotted you with the wood under your arms, he smiled.

"Finally! We're freezing over here!" "You could have helped, then I would have been faster." You rolled your eyes and Gyro laughed and got up to start the fire once you dumped the wood on the floor. Then you unhooked your own bag from h/n and set it up next to Johnny.

Finally you were able to rest. Your limps sprawled out and a deep sigh escaped your lips. "You alright there?" Johnny inquired, leaning over to you. "Now I am. Finally some rest ya know." You answered, opening your eyes to look at him. You were surprised that his face was so close to yours as his eyes scanned your face for every little detail. Heat crept up in your face.

"True, the break is welcomed." With that he withdrew from your personal space. You continued to watch him from the corner of your eye as he pulled out his little nite pad and pen to write something.

"Hey Gyro!" He called out to your friend who just got the fire started. "Why didn't your teddy eat dessert?" "Tell me Johnny." "He was stuffed." Gyro laughed wholeheartedly, while Johnny chuckled.

"Holy shit, you two are so unfunny." You groaned and hid your face with your hands. "You just can't appreciate true genius." Gyro retorted and began humming his Pizza song while making his sleeping place more comfortable. His teddy of course finding place too. Whole traveling with the two guys you had heard so many stupid jokes, songs and conversations, but that's also why you liked them so much.

And while you held both dear in your heart, your heart had the habit of occasionally skipping a beat whenever you and Johnny got close. It was a little crush you had developed over the time, but who could blame you, he was a kind and beautiful young man who had captured your heart and thoughts by storm. Sometimes you wondered if he looked at you with the same admiration and love you held form him.

"We better get some sleep in tonight, I wanna leave early in the morning ladies!" Gyro declared, earning an eye roll from his companions. "You overslept last time!" Johnny retorted. "I couldn't sleep, because you two kept talking and giggling like little girls the whole night!" Not wanting to use the little energy you had left for arguing with Gyro of all people, you just rolled on your side, pulling the blanket of the sleepingbag up to your nose and shut your eyes shut. "G'dnight guys." You just mumbled and began drifting off, only hearing Gyro and Johnny faintly in the distance.

You awoke hours later, freezing. With sleepy eyes you looked around, spotting the died down fire that only had ember left. Gyro was snoring peacefully, Johnnys back was turned to your but you could savely assume that we was sleeping too. The wind must have picked up again some time ago as it was significantly colder than earlier.

"Fuckin' shit." You mumbled and climbed out of the bag to drag it a bit further inside, hoping to escape the cold. Just when you had finished moving the bag, you got almost scared to death when a sleepy Johnny asked what you were doing. "Don't scare my like that!" You whisper yelled at him as you sat back down.

"I moved a bit because I'm freezing over there. The wind picked up." You explained. Johnny also moved out of his bag to your surprise, and went to move next to you again. "It is infact too cold. Can't wait until we get into warmer territory again." He mumbled, as he went back In. You copied what he did and also got comfortable in the bag again.

Silence lingered in the air as time passed you kept shivering, turning from time to time. "Still too cold?" Johnny asked next to you. "Yeah. I'm not made for this weather." "Me neither." He chuckled. A moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. "You know we... We could share."

"What?" You question, wondering if you had heard and interpreted correctly. Johnny hesitated for a moment before elaborating. "Share a bag, ya know. It'd probably be warmer then..." You blinked a couple of times, wondering if that was a smart idea being that close to Johnny. "Y/N?"

"Eh sure. I mean, everything is better than freezing my ass off." You tried to overplay your nervousness. "Then make space for me." He said and scooted over to you, waiting for you to let him in. Thanks to the limited space in there, you were pressed up against Johnny once he got all settled in with your help. A nervous laugh escaped your lips as he wrapped his arms around your figure, pressing you face further into his chest. You couldn't see it but Johnny did have a blush on his face just as you did. But it was warm. Very much so even. If it was thanks to cuddling with Johnny or being flustered and embarrassed thanks to cuddling with Johnny you didn't know.

"If you get uncomfortable, do say darlin'." You blinked. How dare he make you even more flustered by calling you that? How rude of him. "No no, I'm all fine." You mumbled against his shirt, unsure where to put you arms. Eventually you too put your arm around him, just above his waist. "Are ya warm enough?" You nodded. "And are you comfortable?" You questioned back. "Yeah, with you I am." Then it was silent again.

Neither of you knew what to say or do so you just remained in that position until you did feel a little uncomfortable. You moved a little upwards, leveling your faces now, so you didn't have to constantly breath against his shirt. In the dark you could still make out his features thanks to remains of the fire a few feet away and the spare moonlight. Johnny looked pretty, with the slight smile that adored his lips and his tired eyes that looked right back at you.

"Johnny?" "Yeah?" "Thank you for keeping me warm." "No problem at all, darlin'." And again your heart skipped a beat at the nickname. Your hand began to slowly travel from his waist, over his side and shoulders up to this face where it then rested as you pressed your lips onto his in a hasty kiss. Much to your surprise, after the initial hesitation due to surprise, he did kiss back, moving his hand from your back away, much to your dismay. You however didn't mind it anymore when he used his upper body strength, to flip you onto your back with him on top of you.

Your kiss grew more passionate, with tongues meeting and dancing around one another, hands roaming the others body. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. The sapphire blue eyes you adored so much were closed as he breathed heavily against your lips.

"Where did that come from?" Johnny whispered, his hands coming up to cup your face. "I don't know. You just got me wrapped around your finger like that." "I do?" He inquired and you nodded. Your fingers went to to entangle themselves into his blond hair, pushing his hat off.

"Look at you! Pretty face, beautiful eyes, soft hair, your strong arms, you're just perfect... You're the best price I could have scored in this race." Johnnys heart threatened to burst out of his chest, all thanks to your softly murmured words of praise. Instead of replying with words, he simply pressed his lips against yours again, this time slower and softer. "I always thought about you the same way." He then finally confessed against your lips. You couldn't help but smile at his words, finally having the confirmation, that he did feel the same way about you.

"You have no idea how glad that makes me." Johnny chuckled and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "As much as I would love to show you just how much I adore you, if we don't sleep we will have Gyro complain all day tomorrow that we're tired. But i promise I will make it up to you sweetheart." The way the nicknames rolled of his tongue with his southern accent just had you weak. Just when you thought you couldn't love him more, he showed you there was still plenty of room. "You better."

Morning came way too fast. Of course it was still pleasant, waking up in Johnny's arms holding you close to him made it already the best morning you ever experienced so far, but knowing you'd probably be all day on horseback again, with little to no breaks had you feel dread already.

You carefully wiggled yourself out of Johnny's grip to sneak out of the sleeping bag and get yourself some water and a snack from your provisions bag. Just as you had finished a piece of your favorite snack, you heard shuffling behind you. "Morning Y/N." Gyro said, as he was already beginning to gather and pack up his stuff to store it on Valkyrie later. "Mornin'." You replied, watching him a bit.

"What's Johnny doing in your sleeping bag?" He eventually questions and just by the smile on his lips you knew he already had a story himself as to why. "We were both cold and so we shared to stay warm. Nothing special." You commented offhand, trying to seem nonchalant. "Uh huh." A moment passed before he spoke again.

"So you just shared for the warmth yeah? Were your lips cold to or why you got Johnny's blue all over them?"

And just then you knew this ride today just got ten times worse because there was no way in hell Gyro wouldn't bring it up at least fifty times.

#johnny joestar #johnny x reader #jjba #steel ball run #johnny joestar x reader #jjba gyro #jjba johnny #x reader

202 notes · View notes

squarebracket-trickster · 1 month

Text

9 Sentences 9 People

THANK YOU @bluberimufim for the tag! RIP your notifs because I have just mentioned you soooooo many times.

THANK YOU @forthesanityofstorytellers for the tag as well!

I do always love being taggged. Even if I end up with a massive backlog (of *ahem* 16 Last Line Tags... RIP my last post). Getting tagged makes me feel popular and loved<3

This is basically a Heads Up Seven Up, I presume, but I don't have to pick my most recent lines. So without further ado...

The page returns with a candle and I tell him my tale. Our words whisper like wind through the winding stone halls, beneath the rounded arches of doorways thicker than our two bodies abreast and nearly as low as I am tall. It’s an old style of architecture, from the days when walls could withstand bombardment. My father has acquired a new kind of siege weapon, purchased just days before I boarded that ship, a weapon that has been turning the tides of battle in kingdoms to the east, that shoots farther than a trebuchet and hits harder than a battering ram. It can blow gates to splinters and crumble the thickest of stone walls as though they were biscuits baked with too little water. A cannon, I think it’s been called. If this peace treaty fails we will see them here, in Dian and in Cithidy, pointed at each other. I lose myself in my story, let it get away from me and take on a life of its own until it is so far from the truth I stop fearing anyone who might be listening could piece it together. Something about flaming catapults and sea monsters with unicorn horns and hundreds of tentacles... the words tumble from my lips before I care to remember them. If only I could hide in my lies forever.

Technically this is 10 sentences. 10 very long sentences. In case anyone was wondering, this section comes directly after this one and right before this one.

I love when the people I tag @ me and/or link back to my post. I love it when you reblog my post with questions, compliments, words of encouragement about my WIP, or even no comment at all. But please make your own post to complete this tag. Please do not turn my post into a reblog chain.

Tagging, with no pressure, as always<3 @ashen-crest, @leisoree, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @marz-writes-shit, @sunset-a-story, @touloserlautrec, @pandoras-comment-box, @laplumedemaureen, and @harps-for-days

@macabremoons, @zeenimf, @stesierra you have, at various points, expressed interest in being on a tag list for this WIP<333 I don't have one going because I am not going to be posting full scenes but together this post and the other two I have linked comprise the longest consecutive snippet of WIPVII I have ever posted so, enjoy if you want to!

#wipvii #tag game

16 notes · View notes

dearreader · 5 months

Text

alright hello!

a month or so back i was sent these asks in september telling me about a series that @megthemighty did on what taylor swift albums are fullmetal alchemist characters! and the anon wanted to hear my opinions since my brand is just liking taylor swift and enjoying fullmetal alchemist a completely normal amount (you can trust me, i promise). and i thought the idea was very cool and wanted to share my thoughts on each album! so after working on this for two months (don’t ask) i finally finished the list!!

i also went off on this at times because i would either word vomit about an album/song or a character and ended up making something that’s INCREDIBLY long. so i decided it would be best to post it one at a time in a chain post style (so i don’t like overwhelm myself or others). so i’m going to slowly chain post over the ne t few days this with each album and character! so without further ado:

Taylor Swift (Bonus Track Version):

Winry Rockbell

- debut has some of taylor’s best lyrics to date and can cut glass (cold as you still gives me chills)

- the primary theme of the album is about who will i become and first loves while also having a common theme of radio and music being used to describe love. which is important to taylor’s character as she was obsessed (and still is) with country music, so her saying “his smiles like the radio” is her evoking a specific feeling of her listening to music on the radio and sharing that to the audience that when her boyfriend smiles it makes her feel like she’s listening to her favorite songs on the radio. i definitely over explained it but it’s a very sweet and beautiful line to describe how in love you are with a person and how they feel to you

- this idea, while drastically different from winrys loves and goals, radiates her character though

- both winry and taylor had big dreams ever since they were young and went out into the world to make it a reality still at a young age. for taylor, she was able to release her first album at 16 and would later win album of the year on her second album (which i don’t think people realize is FUCKING INSANE TO DO ON YOUR SOPHMORE ALBUM AND IT BEING A COUNTRY ALBUM). similarly though, winry starts working at her family’s automail shop when she’s young, already being ed’s full time mechanic at the age of 14, and later takes up an apprenticeship in rush valley and gains a loyal customer base very quickly for her time there. for a girl that young to achieve something like that is INSANE. she’s already got her dreams met at the age of 15 and it can only go up from there for her

- but tying back into the primary theme of the album being “who am i and who will i become” and how that resonates with winrys character. winry is trying to not only find herself in her youth but also how to help ed and al after their accident. her life was shaken after it and she’s doing everything she can to help them. if y’all would let me quote a song here, she’s “just a girl trying to find a place in this world”

- also songs like TDOMG, Tim McGraw, Invisible, Mary’s Song and so many others can be read as edwin coded as they’re about a young love that sticks around but not always seeing the other as a potential option until it’s to late, or maybe it isn’t. you’ll never know until you tell them

- at its core debut is just a young girl getting to follow her dreams and do what she loves while not knowing what the future will hold for her. which fits winry going to rush valley and her story arc. she doesn’t know what will come but gets to chase her dream very young and only grow from there. especially in the wake of ed and al since her world was shaken and she didn’t know what would or could happen to them or her. she doesn’t know what will come but gets to chase her dream very young and only grow from there.

#kelly babels #fullmetal alchemist #winry rockbell #taylor swift #fullmetal alchemist (taylor’s version)#kelly has a hyperfixation #i’m going to just drop this and post the second part in the morning cause i’m shy and anxious 👍

22 notes · View notes

ros3ybabe · 8 months

Text

Daily Check-in September 7th, 2023 🎀

Today was...not the most productive day for me if I'm being honest. When I'm using my Ipad to video call my boyfriend, I can't take notes like I want to, so I end up feeling like I'm behind on my homework. I'm genuinely thinking about buying a second Ipad to keep my personal life and academic life separate. I have a 2nd Ipad, but it's with my boyfriend, 1000+ miles away. My university sells one online for 300$ USD so I might buy it when I get paid next week.

🩷 What I Ate Today -

Breakfast - leftover burritos with taco bell Diablo sauce

Lunch - spicy ramen with shredded fiesta blend cheese

Dinner - McDonald's

Snacks - one mint choco chip yasso bar, two cups of coffee with creamer

Not my healthiest eating day but I have been incredibly stressed so I turned to easy, greasy comfort food though all its done is upset my stomach. Tomorrow will be better.

🩷 Personal Habits/Goals I Achieved -

nightly skincare routine

studied Japanese for 10ish minutes

took out my bedroom trash

made a workout plan for the week

made a goal setting plan for working out

got in touch with one of my two assigned registered dietitian mentors

got my three week grown acrylics soaked off professionally

I'm hoping to implement the workout routine tomorrow, but I want to take it slow ish because I'm still recovering from a back injury and whiplash from last week so fingers crossed I don't irritate the injury! Also, I'm super excited to be a dietitian mentee. The one dietitian I'm in contact with currently is absolutely the sweetest!

🩷 Academic Achievements -

finished my Fitness For Health and Sport module 3 notes

posted my discussion post and one classmate response for the same course

completed and passed the module quiz for the same class

completed and passed my Food Fundamentals Chapter 5 Quiz

planned for the next few upcoming days

My job has me scheduled for ~35 hours Friday thru Monday, so I am going to be so tired this weekend, but I need the money because I have rent to pay, I want to buy a Genki 1 & 2 Textbook and Workbook + Answer key & hiragana/sentence chart (and some other resources), I want some more stationary, and I need to buy more groceries soon. I am also planning to buy another Ipad, and add some language app subscriptions to my arsenal of language resources for my lazy days.

🩷 Song of the Day - TT Japanese vr by Twice

I love that there are so many Japanese versions of kpop songs that I absolutely love, so this way I can passively listen to the language while enjoying music! There's also a ton of J-pop songs I'm currently in love with. Some of my favorite j-pop artists are liSa, Kenshi Yonezu, YOASOBI, Fuji Kaze, Suda Masaki, Ado, etc.

I did not workout today, I did not do morning skincare, and I did not make my bed. I am planning on getting back on track tomorrow. I appreciate this platform and my followers who help me want to stay on track. I appreciate all 300+ of you <3

Til next time, lovelies 🩷

30 notes · View notes

itsahotminuteinbetween · 5 months

Text

Chapter 8

GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER That's right, after being out of commission for a couple months, chapter 8 is FINALLY finished.

AND I HAVE SOME GOOD NEWS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN ASKING FOR IT:

Where the Stars Don't Shine is finally posted on ao3! The new chapter is here!

I am so so so sorry about the wait, so I made it extra long just for you guys! As always, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @bibooby, @laegume and @andyssilly, welcome back to the slumber party, I saved yall some front row seats! (If anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know and I'll put ya in the next one!) Anyways, hope yall enjoy this, and without further ado-

On with the show!

Word Count: 4,962

-------

All your excitement during your encounter with Sun vanishes when it becomes clear just what sort of day it’s going to be.

You had a bit of a mixed bag in attendance today. All your regulars, plus a couple new faces here and there. It started out okay, really.

And then one new kid in particular showed his hand and cemented his legacy as one of the most spoiled children you have ever had the dishonor of meeting.

You try not to dwell on it and just move on, but this kid…this kid is awful . Pushing other kids around, turning his nose up at snacks and eating off other kids’ plates, ripping the heads off toys…

(You really have to remember to bring your sewing kit next time.)

You know it’s not the kid’s fault for his behavior, more of the people who raised him, and you try not to hold it against him, you really do. By the looks of it, Sun is trying, too, but both of your patience is drawing thin.

You draw the line when he tears out a page of your books that one of the other boys was reading.

You remind yourself repeatedly that you are not allowed to punch a child.

You do put him in time-out, though. And you can guess by this kid’s behavior that their parents are going to raise hell about it.

You discover some hours later that your assumption is completely correct when said parent comes in later to pick up their child and you confront them about the brat’s behavior, to which their response is an offended gasp and a rant about how awful your work ethic is and you’re not providing enough care this is why people like you are in jobs like this you’re lucky you’re even employed that makes the brick walls behind security desk that you have the strong urge to slam your head into all the more appealing. You stand there with a polite customer service smile and take it like the valued employee you are while trying to remember what temperature human flesh burns at before chastising yourself, until you’re thrown back into reality and catch the tail end of what she says.

“-and are you even listening to me right now? Ugh, you’re even denser than the robot, at least it can do its job right. You’re supposed to be the competent worker and you’re being beaten by a walking junkyard pile-”

Yeah, nope, not this again.

You bristle at her words, gritting your teeth slightly and forcing your smile to maintain itself. If it looks slightly more manic than intended, that can’t be helped, but you had always been good at playing the part of someone weaker than you. “I’m so sorry you feel that way, ma’am. I’m sure you can leave a review regarding our services on our website if you’d like. However, Fazbear does not tolerate abuse and slander of any of its staff. Thanks for stopping by and have a Faz-er- iffic day!”

You slam the door in her face just as she opens her mouth (likely to respond with another offensive remark) and dust your hands off in satisfaction. It’s not the first time someone’s come to complain about you and your coworkers. In truth, the company probably couldn’t care less how the clients treated their workers and their ‘property’ as long as they got paid. Slander against you, you could understand; you signed a contract and sold your soul away. One of the agreements was to deal with annoying clients. But the other two? They had been built for this, any complaint against them was the fault of the company itself, and besides, you couldn’t see them as anything other than people since the moment you’d spoken to them. After all, a company probably wouldn’t leave a prerecorded message expressing immediate hostility towards its employees on their first day of work, now would it?

They had to have some level of sentience to make that decision.

You mark off the last child with a pleased grin. At least with the way she’d reacted you could guarantee that neither the harpy woman nor her little satan spawn son ever set foot in the Daycare ever again.

You do unfortunately still have to clean up the carnage left behind, though. You grab a broom and a dustpan, ready to sweep up the crumbled play-doh and ripped stuffing from earlier, back straightening with a sharp inhale when the lights cut off. Not terribly uncommon, but it still left you uneasy. Moon didn’t get to do his little song and dance during naptime because you were preoccupied punishing a rulebreaker, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixing to dish out his skewed idea of justice one way or another.

Lo and behold, the tell-tale click of a wire descending directly behind you gives away his intentions.

“ Aww , thank you for defending our honor so nobly , little knight,” he croons mockingly. You don’t even have to turn in his direction to know he’s fanning his faceplate and fake swooning in a ‘my fair maiden’ pose. You say nothing, just sweeping stiffly under his suspended shadow and inspecting the floor. You’d have to bring out the vacuum for the carpet, plus a mop.

You miss his frown at your evident disinterest.

“So brave, to come to our aid when we were utterly defenseless ,” he continues, picking a small bit of clay off your shoulder and flicking it aside. “But you know, you seemed to have forgotten what I told you earlier…”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for some response of probing to continue. If he is, he’ll be sorely disappointed. Though you’re usually the one after them for conversation, you’re in no mood for it after the day-no, the week, the whole damn month , really- you’ve had. You just want to go home, take a shower, and sleep for an eternity.

His frown grows further in distaste, and he decides to grab your attention by gripping your shoulders tightly and lifting you a few inches off the ground. Your previously unfocused gaze now snaps to him, alert and on guard.

Wuh-oh.

That’s more like it.

“We do not need your help ,” he sneers, shaking you by the front of your shirt. You blink and gulp nervously, unsure as to where this is coming from. You feel the worst of your nausea as he starts to raise you towards the ceiling with you hanging onto his wrists tightly.

“Moon…” you speak warningly, a shot of nervousness streaking through you as the ground grows further away. His only response is a sadistic chuckle, and the delicately crafted facade over your sickness accumulating from over the past few weeks worsens exponentially. Your stomach lurches and you hazard a quick glance down. You’re hanging a good thirty feet above the ballpit and still steadily climbing, and judging by the glint in your captor’s eyes, you’re not going to like where this is headed.

It’s safe to panic now.

“Moon, stop it, that’s enough,” you tell him, voice wavering. After no response, you try again. “Moon, that’s enough, put me down.” Silence. “That’s enough , drop it!”

He stops for a second, grin falling a little before returning full force. “Well, if you insist ,” he laughs darkly.

Your eyes widen and for a moment, nothing happens. Then he yanks your hands off him and lets go, watching you plummet to the ground with sinister glee.

Then, you’re falling.

You think you scream, you can’t tell. You crash into the ballpit right after, but it doesn’t cushion your fall. You hiss immediately on impact, clenching your fists and curling in on yourself. The plastic balls dig into your spine, sending waves of pain throughout your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you don’t dare open them lest you see that face looming over you. You do a quick check-over, wiggling your toes and bending your joints weakly. Somehow, nothing is broken, but you can’t tell over the searing pain in your side. You thought it was bad before, but that was nothing compared to now. The dull ache is burning, setting your nerves on fire with as much as a twitch. Your back is in a similar shape, as are your legs.

You don’t know how long you stay like that before Moon’s shadow looms over you from the side of the pit. He makes some stab at you that you don’t really process over the ringing in your ears. Existing hasn’t taken such a toll on you before. His voice still carries into the white noise. You manage to get your mouth moving again and whisper, voice crackling, “Knock it off, Moon.”

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t let up on his teasing, and you vaguely register his response. “Oh, poor little worker can’t take a tumble. Too weak to pick yourself back up again? Not that I see much of a difference. You’ve always got your head down, ballpit or that desk you laze at. Best to let the ‘bucket of bolts’ do the work, hm ?”

You say nothing, not finding the idea of lifting your head and entertaining his little act worth it in your state. You remain limp in the ballpit, knees hugged to your chest in fetal position.

You hear him step closer to you, and jerk slightly when blue digits dig into your shoulders to pull you up. A cry of pain erupts from you at the fingers embedding themselves in your shoulder blades. They retract quickly as if burned by a pot sitting too long on the stove, as if this was the first time they’ve ever felt such heat before. Your severe pain and slightly depressive state dissipates momentarily and is instead replaced with white-hot anger that threatens to bubble over.

You slap his hand away and shout, “It’s not funny, Moon, knock it off! ”

He freezes, hands twitching in the air. His optics flicker, narrowing as he reaches back out to capture you once out. You smack his wrist again and ignore the added pain of striking metal.

You stagger out of the ballpit, standing on shaky legs. You don’t give him a chance to speak before you start up again.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man? You dropped me from 50 feet up, I could’ve died ! What did I even do to you?”

His faceplate turns in a silent half-rotation before he shrugs.

Oh no he did not .

You explode, gesturing wildly as his simple movement spurs you on. “So what, you just don’t like me and decided to fucking throw me off the balcony like some- some doll for you to mess around with?! Pfft, yeah sure, that makes sense! Let’s just drop someone from 40 feet ‘because we don’t like them’! Wow, Moon, I can see how you guys got your position with that logic !”

“Oh wait! ” you spin around sharply, a manic grin on your face that seems to twist every meek and modest feature on your face as you continue on. “That’s why I’m here! Because for all your hard work, Management still decided to shove me into this hellhole! And it doesn’t mean much, it’s Management, they don’t mean anything, but hey , guess what? I never wanted to be here, but surprise-surprise, no one wants to hire a nobody who didn’t push through their degree except a shady company with a world record in OSHA violations and an even bigger death toll! So here I am, getting paid 30 dollars an hour to deal with your ungrateful asses for five hours a day, not to mention the ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime of three to five EXTRA hours I dedicate to this sorry place, all without a single day off in the past six months that I have worked here, each of which have been filled with your non-stop harassment and shitty attitude, which for some bizarre reason I haven’t reported yet! So why, pray tell, have you been dead set on punishing me for a crime I have yet to commit? What did I even do to you?”

It’s a trap. Moon knows it’s a trap, but he refuses to let you get away with such slander on his turf. He rolls his eyes and huffs, “ Oh, please , you aren’t nearly as victimized as you make yourself out to be. You slack off during playtime while Sun handles everything, you’re constantly snoozing away at your desk unless you oh-so graciously decide to grace us with a moment of your time, and sometimes you don’t even show up at all. I think we have much more of a right to type up a report than you ever will.”

Alright, that’s it- “Oh, really ? Alright, buster, don’t give me that shit, I know damn well what I’m worth. For the record, I do play with the kids - which, if I may remind you, is not in my job description- until sweet lil Sunny starts giving me a death stare for daring to intrude on his precious playtime. And I do pitch in around here, just as much if not MORE than you do! Guess what, cheesehead? I clean the ballpit. I order the food, I buy the supplies, bring the books, put the kids toys back together, organize a monthly schedule AND deal with your sorry asses, so don’t be telling me how to do my job, got it ? And don’t start up about my breaks, cuz, huh , I wasn’t aware that a two minute break in the place of an hour’s worth of free time was against my contract! I take time off when I know I’m not needed so that I don’t keel over and leave you to deal with over 40 kids! And even with that, I’ve still never taken an actual sick day off the entire time I’ve worked here because I know this is how you’ll react! When was the last time I didn’t show up to work, huh?”

Moon is swift with his reply, almost anticipating the question. “Last month, you took nearly two weeks off without telling your supervisors,” he states triumphantly, as if this had somehow won him the argument.

Oh, this absolute idiot .

His victorious grin falls slightly at your disbelieving laughter. “Two weeks?! I’ve been working here for six months and you’re hung up on two weeks ?! I’ll have you know that I did tell my supervisors-which you are not , by the way- that I would be out on unpaid sick leave. And I know they didn’t tell you about it because I knew exactly what would happen, and it did! I thought you could respect it and let it go , but apparently not, cuz you can’t handle not sticking your obnoxiously pointed nose up someone’s business! And now I’m the nosy one!” Your voice grows louder, and you throw your arms out with a wide, dangerous gleam in your eyes.

“You wanna know where I was? Why I was gone? Well guess what, Craterhead, I was in the hospital making sure my brother didn’t drop dead ! I had to make sure he didn’t flat line halfway through a surgery !”

Oh.

Oh no.

Moon’s eyes widen, regret flickering across his face for a second. He takes a small step back, retreating as you advance. A jab to the chest pulls him back to the present, and his optics narrow.

“But you don’t care about any of that, do you? All you care about is your stupid reputation and oh no, Sunny and Moony can’t have a human ruining everything, because that’s all this meatbag knows how to do! Oh no, poor Sunny and Moony!”

You watch his expression drop like a thermometer exposed to subzero temperatures, red optics pinpricks in a sea of black that threaten to overtake them, contracted pupils tensed like a rubber band about to snap. A spark of something, perhaps vindication, ignites within you, overshadowing the voice in the back of your mind that quietly warns you of what to come, to back down before it’s too late.

A pity your brother isn’t here to hold you back.

Your voice drops dangerously low for a moment, a deathly whisper that somehow seeps fear into Moon’s systems more than your uncontrolled rage.“I bet you tried to break me, didn’t you, wanted to see me all battered and bruised with my tail tucked between my legs as I ran out of this godforsaken place. Oh, don’t act so surprised, we both knew you never liked me. You never liked me or the idea of someone coming along to jeopardize your position, your life’s purpose, the only thing you have ever been good for, and so you pushed, even when I went along with all your orders, all your demands and your stupid checkpoints and your stupid, stupid rules, pushed and pushed and pushed until I couldn’t take it anymore, and here we are. Well, no more ! You knew there was a breaking point, you both did. Well, here it is, the final straw! Your hard work finally paid off, you’ve made me even more miserable than before, and for what? Is this what you wanted, Moon, Sun? Are you finally satisfied? ”

Moon is still in front of you, hands drawn to his chest, pupils watching fat drops roll down your cheeks and leave stained rivers on your skin as you smile that angry, heartbreaking, defeated smile that cuts through their wires like glass shards, words stabbing through his central processors and sending a jolt through them both. He wants to respond, wants to say something clever and leave you sputtering and defeated, but nothing comes to mind. He always has a retort, a comeback, a witty remark or a snarky comment to make you bend to their will, and yet this time he’s the one left grasping for straws. He’s speechless, voicebox pushing out low static as he struggles to formulate a reply. You don’t give him the time to, resuming with a steady confidence they’ve never seen in you before. This is a side of you that is unfamiliar to them. They don’t quite know what to make of it, and so they stay unwillingly silent as you answer your own question with an air of finality.

“No, you’re not. And I’ll tell you why. This perfection that you’ve tried so hard to pin down? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but perfect is something even machines can’t accomplish, no matter how advanced or well-built they think they are. It never will be. You and Sun both think you’re oh-so-great and so far above lil ol’ me and my stupid human brain, but I think you forget that you’re just as bad as I am. I’ve seen the daycare reviews, boys, and trust me, they are not pretty. Our sweet little ball of Sunshine scared kids so bad with his pushiness that a good deal of them just didn’t come back, and you? Oh, you scared the shit out of kids, didn’t you? You left them shivering in their sleeping bags in fear of the very thing that swore to protect them.

“So tell me”- you tilt your head, smile growing sickeningly sweet as your eyes squint upwards, hands poised together as you punctuate every syllable that leaves your lips - “What exactly do you think gives you any authority over me? How do you think you can protect anyone from me when you can’t even protect them from yourself?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, the manic grin not leaving your face as you turn around to sweep over the daycare after the prolonged eye contact with burning red optics begins to sting your eyes.

“But hey!” you call out behind you with a laugh like shattered glass left on cold tile. “Don’t take my word for it. I’m just the dumb worker you had to boot cuz you didn’t want someone to steal the spotlight.”

You whip back around to give a final comment before catching a glimpse of Moon. His pupils are near non-existent, eyes dark and empty. His static grin is too wide, fingers too sharp, curling and uncurling. You freeze, words cutting to a halt, and you swear his grin grows wider.

“ R̶̻̘̃͂̈́͋́ ̶̢̛͇̠͔̤̥͉̜̖̫̰̬̬̝̓͛̾̅̓̑̌́͆̅̇̿̎͂̈́͘̕͠Ǘ̸̡̻͖̅̄̄̚ ̵͖̱͕̫̋̈́̀́͊̇̐̀̒̒̋͑̅̀͗̊́́̚̕͝N̵̘̰͓̹̖̘̦̪͂̓̎̅̊̀͘̕͜ ̶̡͕̙͖̟͍̼͙̠̺̹̦̘̙̘̠̏̾̿̏̂͜ͅ," he growls.

It sends a chill up your spine, dousing your anger in fear. You don’t waste time waiting for him to start chasing. You’re already booking it across the Daycare and to the exit.

You’re maybe 10 paces in when you hear him behind you, wire clicking and shooting him to the ceiling. You know it’s a losing battle, he could easily take you if he wanted to. He doesn’t though, not yet. It’s the chase he’s after.

You dare not turn to check behind you, instead running blindly in hopes of somehow managing to hide. Your logical reason tells you to just leave, but it’s drowned out by pure instinct to run, get away, danger-

Moon has a severe advantage and you both know it. He knows the area. Still, you foolishly blunder on, making a hard right that almost makes you trip before you stumble back up again. You’re lucky he doesn’t do this more often because man you are out of shape. He hasn’t chased you since the first two months, you’d thought these games were behind you.

You wheeze as you bump into a wall, barely managing to dodge a wet floor bot. You can’t keep this up much longer. Your heart’s been kicked into overdrive, beating at a rate you know isn’t normal. Distantly, pain tingles in your elbow, muffled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You’re surprised you haven’t bumped into any of the GlamRocks. They may not like you, but it’s better than this.

Maybe they’re patrolling different floors? They could be charging.

All at the same time.

Yeah…

You skid to a sudden stop. You were just here, weren’t you? Ugh, these hallways all looked the same. Your eyes dart around wildly, spotting the familiar Daycare entrance. The faces of golden statues are smiling down at you.

You can’t recall a time where that’s happened to you before.

Your eyes dart around for some place to hide, landing on a closet. You hear jingling bells in the distance.

You silently pray there aren’t any spiders before shutting yourself inside, leaving the door open just a crack for a sliver of light.

It’s not a terribly big closet. There’s maybe enough room for you to stand upright. You sit with your knees tucked under your chin, eyes never leaving the door. Just in time. The wire descends and detaches, two feet coming into view. They pad softly on the cold tile, making no noise as he prowls for his prey.

A shadow in front of the door.

You hold your breath, freezing and throwing a hand over your mouth.

A pause.

His attention is shifted elsewhere. He grumbles and stalks off, leaving you in the dark.

You wait maybe thirty seconds for the footsteps to grow silent before exhaling softly and taking stock of your situation. You’re stuck in a broom closet at work and the only other worker here tonight just left.

Not that Moon would be of any help , you thought bitterly. He just wants you out of the way.

You can’t really blame him for that , though, can you ?

The thought almost sets you off the edge, but you reign yourself in, letting go of a self-deprecating laugh and wiping the tears that form in the corners of your eyes. It doesn’t help. New ones replace them and you let your hands fall back into your lap.

No. No, you couldn’t blame them for it. You invaded their space and made a mess of things. You have a habit of doing that.

That’s why you left, after all. You couldn’t handle messing that up , either.

A shaky sob escapes you, and you press your palms to your eyes to stop the flow of tears trickling down your face. You need this job, you can’t lose it. If you lost it, you’d have no other options. You’d be out of house and home, and then what? Go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

No. You couldn’t go back.

What other choices did you have?

It didn’t matter, anyway. At the end of the day, nothing would change. You were still you, and something always goes wrong no matter what you do. Didn’t matter how hard you tried or how fair it was, it’s always the same.

Sometimes you wonder if everyone would’ve been better off had your brother been an only child.

A soft buzzing in your pocket snaps you out of your episode. You fish your phone out in surprise. That’s right, you’d put it there after this morning. It vibrates in your hand, the caller ID flashing across the screen. It’s your mother. You stare at it dumbly, making no move to answer it. You’re half tempted to just let it ring till she gives up and drops it as always, but…

You need something to keep the quiet at bay right now.

Swiping to start the call, you hear shuffling over the static and put the speaker close to your ear. A short “hello?” is heard and repeated as she tries to figure out how to use the brick in her hand.

The act is familiar and you manage a watery smile. “Hi, mom.”

“Can you hear m-oh, good, you’re there. Your brother said you messaged him this morning and we just wanted to check in.” Her tone shifts. “You okay there?”

You don’t think you can pull off pretending that you’re fine at the moment. You sniffle into the receiver, curling further in on yourself. “I’m okay, I just…I just had a bad day at work.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”she sighs, and you wince slightly, not really feeling up to whatever questions she has to ask. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head before remembering that you’re on the phone, instead muttering a quiet ‘no’ into the speaker. She stays uncharacteristically silent on the other side of the line, her subtle shifting of the phone the only indicator that she’s still on the call. You know she wants to pry further, force an answer out of you. Sometimes, you almost wish she did, wish she pushed just a bit harder so you could finally break and let it all out.

She doesn’t this time though, puttering out a soft sigh. “Well…alright. Just remember, we’re always here if you need us. Your brother’ll probably check on you anyway, you know how he gets. Just don’t let him burn the building down for your sake.”

A wet snort slips past you before you catch it, imagining your anarchist brother expressing his rage against the machine and corporate capitalism by burning down a rip-off Chuck-E-Cheese. You didn’t think your mother was capable of creating an image like that, either. She hadn’t exactly been very invested in either of your interests. You wonder if she’s been taking pointers from your brother.

You wave the thoughts aside, realizing you’ve let the conversation taper off and…

You suppose you can let this phone call end on a higher note. You both sort of need it anyway.

“Thanks, mom,” you whisper coarsely, leaning against the stacked boxes and letting your head fall back.

“Of course, dear. You just call us back when you’re ready. Oh, and try to tag along with your brother sometime, it gets lonely without you there. You were much better at listening to his mechanical jargle than we are.”

You exchange a few more quiet answers before wishing her a good night and hanging up, squinting at your brightly lit phone in the dark space. The time reads a little past 10. Moon’s first round of patrols is likely finished, which means it’s finally safe to leave this cramped compartment.

The door remains shut when you turn the knob.

You try for the handle again, rattling it with greater and greater intensity as your panic begins to build up to no avail. Your hands form fists, soon beginning to bang on the door, eyes wide and breathing erratic. Try as you might, it’s sealed like a tomb, effectively locked inside.

No, no, no , this can’t be happening, not here, not now. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be in this dark, cramped closet at the end of some forgotten corridor, stashed with all the boxes and cleaning supplies.

Your brother had locked you into a closet once. Flipped the switch on the outside and left you alone to battle the demons you couldn’t see. It had been funny, back then, until you started screaming and begging to be let out.

It wasn’t funny now.

You drop to the floor, hands sliding down the wood to lay limply beside you. You can feel yourself shaking, bones rattling as you tremble. Your lungs burn with the force of the rapid inhale-exhale pattern you struggle to keep stable, your heartbeat pounding at the front of your head. Inhale, exhale, thump, thump, inhale, thump -oh, weren’t you supposed to exhale first- thump -and your heart’s not pumping, you can’t breathe, you need to breathe -

You gasp, head reeling, nails digging into your palms and leaving red marks. You struggle to ground yourself, forcing your eyes to focus on the sliver of light from under the doorframe. You inch back, still trembling lightly, staring blankly at the floor as the cold reality dawns on you.

You’re trapped.

No one is here to save you now.

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope yall enjoyed that lil chapter, seems like our y/n's gotten into quite a pickle! It's okay, though, they needed some time to process anyways. Speaking of which, Sun and Moon have a LOT to think about... Not sure when I'll post chapter 9, sorry! I have a couple of short snippets planned out already, but typing and connecting them is a whole other matter, so I dunno when I'll get back to this. Until then, however, I hope this is enough, and unfortunately...

The theater is closed...

#sorry to bother #don't mind me #where the stars don't shine #wtsds #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n #i dunno what other tags to use #also not sure if yall still want me to post the chapters on tumblr or just on ao3 #hmm #guess I'll have to put out a poll abt that

19 notes · View notes

mrpldiddles · 3 months

Text

the woman through the waiting glass part one | c.snow

a/n: i've been going on about my coriolanus snow fic for months now and i am very excited to finally share the first chapter here!! this fic follows my oc metis pyralis and what happens between her and coriolanus after the events of tbosas. i'm not sure how long this fic will end up being or when i'll be able to post the other chapters as i am still in uni and trying to find time to write, but i will have them posted as soon as i can. i hope y'all enjoy this fic as much as i do and are willing to follow metis and coriolanus along with my sporadic posting schedule. i also do not currently have a tag list for this fic but if you are wanting to be added to one let me know :) without further ado here is the first chapter of the woman through the waiting glass :)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: none for this chapter i believe :)

Every girl in the Capitol should’ve known to stay away from Coriolanus Snow. With his captivating, crystal-like eyes and that infamous charm of his…he was too good to be true. Star pupil of the academy, heir to the Snow legacy and the expected recipient of the Plinth Prize, he had everything he could ever want in the palm of his hands by the age of eighteen. Despite all his glaring warning signs, he was no stranger to the affections of his peers. Since his birth he’d been told how charming and handsome he’d grow to be; to look just like his father. At the end of the war, at age eight, he began to attract the gaze of some of his classmates. By the time he was sixteen, practically every girl in the Capitol wished to be on his arm. At age eighteen he had his eyes set on one girl and one girl alone. And it was not his fiancee-to-be.

There was no denying the chemistry between Lucy Gray and Coriolanus Snow. It was bright as day on every screen in Panem from the moment he paraded her around the monkey enclosure. All eyes were on the two of them, including the heiress to the Pyralis fortune.

Metis Pyralis knew that her marriage would never be one of true love. From the moment that their families agreed upon the arrangement when they were both only nine years of age, they both knew the stakes. Their families were to be joined whether they loved each other or not, though of course, the Snows needed the Pyralis’ far more than they would ever need them. Investing in and funding District One had its perks, meaning that the Pyralis family was set for generations with Metis to inherit it all. But none of this stopped Coriolanus from leaving the Capitol for District Twelve and Lucy Gray.

Metis found out the news from Tigris. The day before had been when Lucy Gray and Coriolanus had won the status of Victors. Metis hadn’t been able to find her way through the crowds to congratulate her future husband in person before he had been swept away, so Saturday afternoon she decided to congratulate him in person at the Snow’s apartment. The outside of the building was misleading to what Metis knew awaited inside. The newly fixed elevator, the partially crumbling walls, crooked light fixtures. Despite the anxiety that she knew Coriolanus harboured over the state of his family’s home and the fact that she - his future fiancee, yet someone he still considered a family outsider - knew of their financial troubles, she had never told a soul. Not even her own father knew, giving a new understanding as to why he had agreed to the arranged marriage of his daughter in the first place. Though the two families were long-time friends, Metis was unsure if she would be in such an unconventional relationship if her father knew the truth of why the Grandma’am had ever even suggested the idea.

After climbing the creaky staircase - Coriolanus had instructed her to not take the elevator on her own - she found her way to the apartment, knocking on the tall lacquered front door. Moments later she was greeted with Tigris’ slightly red and puffy face, a handkerchief being held to her nose.

“Tigris,” Metis greeted, internally cringing at the volume of her own voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Metis,” Tigris whined, her voice ragged from the amount of crying she must have been doing. “Coryo’s just left.” The dread that had begun as a trickle now flooded Metis’ stomach.

“Left? To where? Where did he go?” Worry crept into Metis’ voice. Herself and Coriolanus had never been a typical couple. Had never kissed or exchanged ‘I love you’’s, but they still cared for each other. Or at least Metis cared for Coriolanus.

She could never wage his emotions towards her. He was nicer to her than he was to their classmates. He let her in on his real feelings about them in fact, which was more than she ever really expected from him. He told her about the hatred that he was sure Dean Highbottom harboured for him. He even confided in her about his worries to carry on the family’s legacy and make his lineage proud. But those moments were as rare as the Grandma’am refusing to sing the National Anthem and usually resulted in him acting distant and cold towards her for days at a time. Wherever he had run off to Metis wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t let her know.

“He didn’t tell you?” Tigris’ eyes widened. “He’s joined the Peacekeepers. He shipped off this morning on the first train.” Metis’ stomach sunk, whether from dread or surprise she wasn’t completely sure. Surprise as the Coriolanus she knew would’ve never willingly enlisted for the Peacekeepers. He took too much pride in his last name - and the privilege it came with - all too much to join their ranks. And dread from the idea that she knew exactly which district he was in and why.

“All of a sudden? But- he and Lucy Gray just won the Games, why would he leave so suddenly? And to be a Peacekeeper of all reasons?” The taste of the newest Victor’s name on her tongue almost threw Metis off her line of questions. She knew why he left and why exactly he became a Peacekeeper. It was all about her.

Tigris leaned out into the hall, her head swivelling from right to left before beckoning Metis inside. Metis stepped inside, allowing Tigris to close the door behind her before leading her to the dining room, away from the front door. Metis couldn’t help but notice the way Tigris leant against the table, as if her thoughts were bearing down on her, leaving her unbalanced.

“He cheated, Metis,” the older girl’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes, rimmed red with bags beneath them, stared into Metis’ own. “He cheated for Lucy Gray to win. Highbottom gave him no choice. It was either be publicly shamed or join the ranks for twenty years and we both know how much pride Coriolanus has over our name.”

Metis simply stood as Tigris all but collapsed into the nearest chair, her head falling into her hands as if her little energy had been used to hold the weight of her cousin’s wrongdoing. The new information swirled in her mind. Coriolanus had cheated. Cheated to help Lucy Gray win and escape death numerous times. He had done all this for her, a District girl, and was now serving his punishment. Emotions churned and intertwined in her stomach. Surprise, anger, amusement, grief, relief. The chair scraped against the ground as she pulled it from under the table and took a seat.

“Did he say what District he was being assigned to?” Metis’ voice came out quiet but strong. There was no hint of a quaver or shake in her question. She couldn’t say she wasn’t at least a little hurt by the Snow boy’s actions but she wasn’t surprised. Although the two were never affectionate or all that close, it was now clear to the Pyralis girl where she stood in her future husband’s eyes. It may not have been a choice for him - public humiliation and shame for the rest of his life or being a Peacekeeper - but it was in Metis’ eyes. He had chosen Lucy Gray over her. Even when he was the one who needed her, not the other way around.

“He didn’t say.” Even in the quiet of the apartment Metis had to strain to hear Tigris’ voice, any effort she’d had having been sucked out of her. If Dean Highbottom had been the one to give Coriolanus his punishment he never would’ve chosen Twelve for him. He wouldn’t have wanted for Coriolanus to have any sense of hope while serving his punishment. She also doubted that One, Two or Four were possible, seeing as they were the better off districts. No, he must be somewhere in the middle. At least that was what Metis allowed herself to believe despite knowing that Coriolanus had his methods. If he were brave enough to try and outsmart the Games why wouldn’t he try to outsmart the system one last time?

“I’m so sorry, Tigris. For you and the Grandma’am. I can’t begin to imagine how hard this must be for you both.”

“We’ll survive. After all: Snow lands on top.” Tigris scoffs at her own words, pressing her forehead into the heel of her hand. “He really didn’t say anything to you? No goodbyes at all?” There was sincerity in Tigris’ eyes. Somehow, the Pyralis and Snow heirs had been able to trick their family members into believing that they were closer and more affectionate than they were. Of course Tigris would be in disbelief that Coriolanus had not wished his future wife farewell. Metis simply shook her head and offered a small smile. Tigris’ hand grasped Metis’ atop the table, squeezing gently.

“Well I’m sure he’ll write once he gets the chance. He must’ve been too overwhelmed to say anything in person.” Metis took note of how the older girl hadn’t brought up the future wedding, nevertheless the engagement that had yet to happen. The question of whether she was expected to wait twenty years for him burned at the back of her mind. He had run off for another girl, yet was she expected to grow old while waiting for him to return? The complications of what he had left her to deal with began to knot and form an ache in her head, but she knew they were nothing to compare with what Tigris now had to handle on her own.

“Will you and the Grandma’am be alright here, Tigris?” Something shifted in the older girl’s eyes at the question. A smile began to form on her face before slipping as her glance found its way from Metis’ face to the table between them. Tigris wasn’t weak, she never had been, at least to Metis’ knowledge who had known her the majority of her life. But her strength was beginning to diminish and Metis could see it. If the blonde had the same pride as her cousin and grandmother then she would deny any struggles they were bound to have with Coriolanus gone. From her lack of response, Metis knew that the Snow’s pride ran deep. “Come and stay with me and my father.”

At that Tigris’ head almost whipped to gauge Metis’ reaction.

“What? Metis, no. No we couldn’t, it would be too much-”

“Tigris,” Metis now placed her hand over Tigris’. “Please. Let me help you. There will be help to aid with the Grandma’am and you won’t have to worry about the property bills. I know how much this apartment means to your family and I’m sure I can talk my father into a plan for you to still own it and fix it up. Please let me help you.”

Fresh tears welled in Tigris’ eyes, causing her to laugh and dab at them with a clean corner of her handkerchief. Metis could practically see the weight lift off her friend’s shoulders, causing her own grin to form on her face.

“Are you sure? That’s a lot to take in and especially to ask your father to help with the expenses-”

“Oh, nonsense, Tigris. You Snows have always been welcome in our home. Besides, we’re practically family already.”

Metis spent the next day helping Tigris and the Grandma’am pack up the apartment and move into her family’s estate. With the help of some of the Pyralis family’s servants the apartment was entirely packed up and moved into either storage or the Pyralis estate within a day.

Saturday night, after her discussion with Tigris, Metis had gone home and pitched her idea to her father. Orpheus Pyralis had not been hard to convince, being a longtime family friend of the Snows, he was happy to help them out. Of course, he wasn’t aware of the true reason why the Snows were moving in. Tigris and Metis had agreed on the story that it was simply too lonely in the apartment without Coriolanus and that Metis had put out the idea of the two women moving in with them for the time being. When it came to asking for help with paying for the apartment it was only a matter of bringing up the renovations that Coriolanus had planned before his departure at their first dinner together with all four of them on Sunday night. Orpheus took it upon himself to pay for the renovations out of his own pocket, despite Tigris’ protests.

Monday afternoon after classes at the Academy had been dismissed, Metis found herself knocking on Dean Highbottom’s office door. The dean grumbled a “come in,” causing Metis to push open the doors, revealing the man to be leaned back in his chair, an empty morphling vial in his hand.

“Dean Highbottom,” Metis greeted, the double doors closing behind her as she stood in front of his tall desk. The older man glanced down at her, acknowledging her presence as he tossed the glass vial to his desk.

“Ms.Pyralis. I assume you’re here about your fiance.”

“Yes, sir. I know he’s left to join the Peacekeepers, but I was wondering if there was any information about his placement that you could provide.” A deep sigh came from the dean, his hand rising to rub the crease between his brows.

“I’d expected a smart girl like yourself to have taken my word and separated yourself from Coriolanus Snow at my first warning.”

“He’s been arranged to be my fiance, sir. I can’t simply forget about him.”

“Forget about him like he’s forgotten about you?” The dean and the student’s eyes met then. The older of the duo portrayed a challenging air while the younger fought to keep her cool. Casca Highbottom had seen through the image that she had been fighting to upkeep for Coriolanus and his family. The image of a happy, soon-to-be engaged couple who had no cracks in their foundation. No one needed a magnifying glass to see the broken pieces that Coriolanus had begun to create on the day of the Reaping. What he and his songbird had left for her to deal with. All day she’d only received pitiful looks, everyone had noticed the newest Victor’s absence and they had all seen on their screens the way he and his tribute had acted around the other. In a way that he and Metis had never even come close to recreating. Now the dean, the man who Coriolanus despised and who despised him right back, was staring her down after making a note of her fiance-to-be’s abandonment. Metis could only glare back. Anything she could say would only serve to display her as weak, pitiful and delusional.

The dean now leaned forward on his desk, closer towards the girl. “Listen closely this time, Ms.Pyralis, and take note.” Metis’ breath caught as she waited for the dean’s speech. “Coriolanus Snow is no good and will never step foot back in the Capitol again. He’s better off where he is and you’re better off forgetting about him.”

The dean then went back to the papers strewn across his desk, leaving Metis to stew in his words. Her heart rate had picked up, her breathing loud in her ears, her face flushed.

“Is he with her?” Metis’ words echoed in the room, louder than she intended but they carried her urgency. She would heed the dean’s warnings if he would just give her an answer. At least if it was the answer she was really searching for. Highbottom’s eyes flicked up, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

“He was assigned to Eight.” Eight. That was good. It wasn’t Twelve. Unless Coriolanus was stupid enough to somehow get himself re-assigned to Twelve, there was almost no chance that he was with Lucy Gray. “Is that all, Ms.Pyralis?”

Metis nodded and thanked the man before leaving the office. She was satisfied. Coriolanus wasn’t in Twelve with Lucy Gray. She didn’t hate the girl. No, in fact, Metis was rather fond of Lucy Gray and felt the need to protect her. From what she wasn’t sure, but she knew it deep in her bones to look out for the younger girl. She admired her strength and the way she carried herself. If she hated her for anything it was the effect she had on Coriolanus.

Metis didn’t wish for him to love her or for him to even act like he did. All she wanted was his respect. For him to take their arrangement as seriously as she did. After all, it was his family who needed her family’s money. In fact, she didn’t even need him at all, but she respected his family and her father’s connection with them enough to not ruin their relationship and reputation by publicly going after another like he had done to her. As long as he wasn’t anywhere near Lucy Gray she was happy.

As Metis turned after closing the dean’s office doors she almost ran headfirst into a figure standing right outside. She gasped quietly, looking up into the piercing, rather chilling, eyes of Dr.Gaul. The older woman smiled down at her, her bright red lips pulled back over her menacing, gleaming teeth.

“Why, Metis Pyralis. What a surprise to see you here, classes ended over half an hour ago.” Dr.Gaul towered over her as Metis tried to calm her galloping heart. Clearing her throat and straightening her back, she refused to cower despite the gamemaker’s threatening air.

“Dr.Gaul,” Metis greeted, a pleasant smile plastered on her face. “I had a question for Dean Highbottom is all. Have a good evening.” Metis’ relieved sigh caught in her throat as Dr.Gaul called for her to wait a moment. Metis turned back around to face the teacher. She stood awkwardly as the older woman’s eyes scanned her up and down, her smile having been replaced by a straight faced expression.

“Accompany me to my lab for a short moment, would you? There’s something concerning a certain Mr.Snow that I’d like to discuss.” Before Metis could even think up an excuse to not go, Dr.Gaul headed for the Academy’s main doors causing Metis to stumble after her. The head gamemaker led her to a sleek, black car parked outside the Academy where she climbed in first, leaving the door open behind her. Metis slipped into her seat, trying to discreetly sit as far as she could from the older woman.

The short car ride passed in uncomfortable silence with Metis’ mind running at a thousand miles per hour as she pondered over what was so important to show her right now and whether her driver had seen her climb in this car and if he was following them to the Citadel. Once the car stopped and the door opened from the outside, Metis scrambled out as fast as she could without seeming impolite. She glanced around and let out a sigh of relief as her family’s car pulled up behind Dr.Gaul’s who, without a word, walked past her and started up the steps of the grand building.

She silently led Metis to her lab below the ground floor, walking her past cases full of odd and disfigured creatures that seemed to follow Metis with their eyes as she passed. She rolled back her shoulders and steadied her breathing as a shiver raced down her spine. Their trek eventually ended in front of a tank full of snakes identical to the ones that had been released in the arena a mere few days ago. Metis stopped in her tracks at the sight of the mutations. She could still vividly remember the image of them bursting from their cage and rapidly slithering over the arena. The way their lethal bites had killed multiple tributes in only moments and left them almost unrecognizable. Bits of Lucy Gray’s powerful song wafted through her mind, sending even more chills down her back. She watched, frozen in place, as Dr.Gaul reached inside the tank and plucked one of the serpents, cradling it in her hands as if the venom of its relatives hadn’t killed a handful of children in front of the entire Capitol less than a week ago.

“You’re worried about your Mr.Snow, aren’t you Ms.Pyralis?” Dr.Gaul asked, stroking the body of her venomous house pet. Your. As if Coriolanus belonged to her. Their future engagement - if there was still one to happen - wasn’t private news, which happened to be the aspect of which that Metis was the least fond of. Maybe if it had been kept between their two families until a proposal had actually taken place they both would’ve been saved a fair amount of trouble.

“Yes, ma’am,” Metis said as confidently as she could muster. “I just wanted to ask Dean Highbottom if he had any information on which district he had been assigned to. His cousin and grandmother are worried about him as well and just want the best for him.” Dr.Gaul hummed, inspecting the snake in her hands before switching it out for another in the tank.

“Well, I can tell you that Mr.Snow may be home sooner than you think. But that happens to be up to him.”

“How so?”

“Your Mr.Snow is partaking in a test of mine.” There it was again: your. “He will be back in no time if he passes. If not then,” she paused, taking care to make sure she made direct eye contact with Metis. “It would be smart of you to move on. Otherwise twenty years is a rather long time to wait. Unless your love for him runs that deep.” Dr.Gaul’s eyes seemed to bear down to Metis’ core, causing her back to stiffen and her chin to lift in a defensive manner. Her words cut the same way that the Dean’s had. They both knew that her relationship with Coriolanus was conditional. She’d give them credit for seeing through them had her fiance-to-be not made it blatantly obvious. “But I wouldn’t worry about him,” the tension in the air seemed to fizz out, if only slightly, at Dr.Gaul’s sudden break of eye contact. “Your future fiance is smart, though of course you would know.”

Metis nodded her head, as an answer and as an attempt to shake the overwhelming buzz of anxiety flooding her mind.

“What exactly is he being tested on if I may ask?” Metis’ voice sounded too quiet, too small for her liking. It was as if the lab was sucking every ounce of energy from her the longer she remained there. However, she needed her answers first.

“His loyalty of course.” Metis held back a scoff. Hopefully Coriolanus’ loyalty to their arrangement wasn’t being tested, otherwise he’d have a long twenty years before him.

“Is this about Lucy Gray?”

“Not in the way you assume,” Dr.Gaul flashed her a bright smile which Metis almost returned. “If I were to judge his loyalty to yourself then, well, who’s to say if he’d ever be seen in the Capitol again. Loyalty to the Capitol is what I am most interested in when it comes to Mr.Snow.” Maybe Coriolanus did have a chance to come home after all, yet something still nagged at Metis in her chest. How was Lucy Gray still involved if what Dr.Gaul had said was true? Hadn’t the poor girl been put through enough?

“Do you happen to know which District he’s been ordered to?” The Dean’s answer hadn’t been enough to fully satiate Metis’ curiosity and worry. She trusted Dean Highbottom but she needed just a bit more. While she assumed that the dean had her best interest at heart, Dr.Gaul had the Capitol’s best interest in hers. Dr.Gaul, with another different brightly coloured snake in hand, turned to look at her with those chilling irises.

“You’re not planning on going after him, are you?” Metis was quick to shake her head. She was desperate for Coriolanus to finally respect their arrangement, but not desperate enough to run off after him.

“Just looking for answers, ma’am.” Dr.Gaul seemed to consider her for a second, looking her up and down once again. Metis felt like one of the many mutations under a microscope. Like a prey animal. Dr.Gaul seemed to get her answer because after seemingly analysing Metis for what felt like far too long, she replied with: “I believe he signed himself up for District Twelve.”

Twelve.

“Does that answer your question, Ms.Pyralis?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you.”

As soon as Metis was out the front doors of the Citadel she ran for her family’s parked car, throwing open the door and practically throwing herself inside. She was grateful that her driver didn’t ask questions and simply drove off as soon as the door closed behind her.

She knew in her gut that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were together again.

When Lucy Gray had been a tribute she hadn’t worried. She knew that once the Games were over and Lucy Gray was either dead or shipped back to District Twelve, Coriolanus would be hers and only hers. She didn’t need or want him or his lack of money, but she did, however, want him to remember what he was putting at risk.

Not only was he risking his and his family’s reputations but hers as well. He had no respect for all that she had done for him over the years, keeping his family’s struggles a secret, aiding them in any way she could without giving their financial state away to her father. She even continued to keep it a secret while having his grandmother and cousin moved into her family’s home. While he was off playing house, she was here doing damage control for him. If he decided to stay in District Twelve for her and word got out - there was no repairing her reputation. She would be known as the Capitol girl who got rejected for a District girl.

She couldn’t blame Coriolanus. Lucy Gray had captured the attention and hearts of almost everyone in the Capitol, including her own, but he was playing with fire. And he was being severely overestimated if he didn’t realize that fire melts snow.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x original character #the hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fic #original character #thg original character #the hunger games fic #mrpldiddles #mrpldiddles fic #tom blyth #rachel zegler #hunter schafer

17 notes · View notes