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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

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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

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valeffelees · 30 days

Note

Oh do tell about that snowbaz au of yours 👀

I WOULD FUCKING LOVE TO, thank you so much tumblr user pidgelikethebird (and also my most beloved and loyal companion @drowninginships) for providing me the enrichment i need to survive the winter.

ok gimme a min here to turn my thoughts into comprehensible words. i'm gonna say right now: this post is gonna be a LONG one, but 10 out of 10 scientists agree you should read to the end.

so, if you didn't know, The Beauty Inside is a Korean romcom from 2015, based off an American short film of the same name; the orig short film i linked is an extremely quick watch (only 6 episodes, each one 4-10 minutes long) and i would absolutely recommend it, but the very basics of the premise is that: a man wakes up in his bed on his 18th birthday to find he's in a completely different body than his own, and every day since then, he wakes up as somebody new.

AND OBVS I JUST HAD TO FUCKING SNOWBAZ THAT, which is how my AU, titled In the Many Ways of Loving You, was born:

Simon Snow wakes up every day as somebody new; the only person who knows the truth is Penny, his best friend and roommate, since she's been by his side since it all began ten years ago.

he works on commission as a custom bookbinder—like, he has an Etsy or some shit, i dunno, some kinda online shop where people can commission him in a variety of ways to rebind their favourite books, either by paying extra for Simon to buy the book himself and rebind it from new and send it to them, or sometimes collectors will send their personal copies to him to have him rebind them, and he's very good at it, and N E WAY the point of this is that he has a small bookshop he's been going to regularly for the last eight or so years, because it's close to his and Penny's flat, and where the story begins: Baz is a new employee that just started working there about two weeks ago and Simon has a massive crush on him.

ok, now. day one: when we meet Simon for the first time, he wakes up and he's lovely and blonde and brown-eyed and ok, yeah, i've just made him look like Agatha bc i thought it'd be kinda funny, esp since Agatha's not actually in the fic otherwise.

and Simon has to pick up a copy of some random book from the bookshop today bc someone bought a custom binding of it, so he goes down and, as usual, since it's his job, Baz has to come over to talk to him and is like, "hey, can I help you with anything?" and Simon doesn't need any help bc he's been coming to this shop for years, but every time Baz asks he says yes bc he wants the excuse to talk to him, and on this day Simon is like, wait. i'm so hot rn. so he asks Baz out—

and Baz is like [finger guns] absolutely not.

and Simon is like 👁️👄👁️ welp i'm in fucking agony.

but whatever, fine. a guy like Baz is prolly already in a proper relationship, and it's always a bad idea for Simon to get involved with someone he has to see on the reg. he had to start going to a different coffee shop that's twenty minutes out of his way bc he went out on a great date with one of the baristas at his old spot and then obvs couldn't go out again after just that one time, and it made him super emo, so really, Baz saying no was prolly for the best.

TIMESKIP, it's been a few days and Simon has to go down to the bookshop again. but this time he's a bloke. and so Baz comes up to ask if Simon needs help and he says yeah, as usual, and the two of them end up having a bantery convo about the book Simon's looking for bc they've both read it and Baz hated it, but Simon loved it, and it's just very cute and casual, and then Baz is like. so, my shift ends in liiike... four hours. are you doing anything?

and Simon is like. OH. OH!!!

that whole "it's prolly for the best" thing? yeah, fuck that, that was Simon of the past, he doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about bc cute bookshop guy wants to hang out and so they go out and have the most fucking insane romcom date ever.

'cause you gotta remember, Simon only gets one real day with people, so he doesn't do like casual coffee dates or movies or whatever. they go out and like fucking B&E a museum after hours bc Simon knows someone like the janitor or something (i dunno) leaves one of the back doors unlocked so he can step out for a cig every few hours, so they sneak in and have the time of their life running around looking at art while trying not to get caught, and we're going to use the suspended disbelief bestowed upon us by the power of romcoms to pretend security cameras aren't a thing, and it is BRILLIANT. like, Simon and Baz have so much chemistry, and when the night ends Baz is just like all smiles and creased eyes and messy black hair and, breathlessly: "I want to see you again."

and Simon's heart drops. because he wants to see Baz again, too, but he can't. no matter how much he wants to, he can't. when he wakes up tomorrow he's going to be someone new, so he can't, he can't, he can't, he—

"Yeah," he says. "Tomorrow?"

SIMON NO!!!

"It's a date."

FUCK!!!

ok, so now we have a problem. Simon can't just stand him up, i mean he could but he doesn't want to, and he really does want to see him again, so he does the only thing he can think of: he stays awake. all fucking night.

Baz, the next day: "You look exhausted."

Simon, wired asf on caffeine and trying to be smooth: "Had someone on my mind all night."

and then they go have another wicked date, but i have nothing in my notes about what it is. oh, i have them living in Canada in this fic btw bc as a rule, if a fic doesn't have to be set in England, i move them to Canada for comfort. so i might have them go cliff jumping or something? who knows. we'll go with that for now.

cue the romcom montage.

[mother tongue starts playing SO DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME FALA AMO, JUST LET YOUR HEART SPEAK UP AND I'LL KNOW]

ok. post-date. Simon is so dumb and infatuated with Baz and does something only a boy who is dumb and infatuated and sleep-deprived would do in his situation, and he goes back to Baz's flat with him to "watch a movie", or in other words: the movie starts and then they prolly have sex, but in my notes this is written as "??? smash ???" so i guess it's kinda up in the air.

either way, Simon passes the fuck out at Baz's place bc he was properly exhausted by that point, and he wakes up to Baz screaming at him bc obvs he looks like a different person now.

Simon, half-asleep: [PANICKED FLAILING] BAZ IT'S ME!!! STOP THROWING THINGS!!! BAZ!!! IT'S ME, IT'S SIMON!!!

and Baz is like: WHAT THE FUCK

and Simon is like: I CAN EXPLAIN

and Baz is like: HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE

and Simon is like: I CAN EXPLAIN!!!

so, here's a detail from the orig film that comes into play here: in the orig movie, the MC keeps a video diary, logging every day what his face looks like, and in this, Simon does this on his phone and backs them up to his computer every hundred days, so he gives Baz his phone and tells him the whole story while Baz scrolls through these short like minute long videos of Simon on various days going, "Hey, this is me today. I have [this and such] thing to do, blah blah blah."

and the thing is, Baz recognises him in some of them. bc Simon is always coming into the bookshop. he stops watching when he gets to the day Simon looked like Agatha, and Simon has been quiet for a while at this point, just letting Baz process.

Baz: "I want you to leave."

Simon takes his phone without a word and goes. Penny picks him up on the corner a block over and drives him back to their flat. she doesn't ask what happened. she already has a pretty good idea.

when Simon's next commission comes in, he thinks about going to another bookshop, he really does. but this one is so convenient, esp since Simon can't drive bc he can't risk getting pulled over carrying a licence that doesn't have his face on it, and he's been going there for eight years and it's not like Baz will recognise him anyway.

so, to the bookshop he goes, but this time when Baz comes up to ask if he needs help, Simon is like, "haha, no that's okay," and goes back to looking for things on his own, and Baz kinda lingers awkwardly for a moment before going on his way, but then when Simon comes up to the till to pay for the book, Baz just stands there staring at him. and Simon is so uncomfortable, like, he just wants to leave—

"Simon?"

SORRY, YOU WHAT?

"What?" Simon gapes at him. "How did— how did you? But I'm—"

"Can we talk?" Baz asks.

"How did you know it was—"

Baz shouts over to the other employee on the floor that he's taking his lunch break, and Simon just slowly follows him out of the shop with the book forgotten, unpaid for, at the check-out.

and here's the deal, Baz liked Simon a stupid amount considering they'd only gone on two dates, but they were good dates, and Baz doesn't date much, so he's a bit hung up on just how much he liked Simon and the weird way shit ended, so he's basically like. i want to see it again. and Simon is like, see what? and Baz is like, you. the... whatever that you do, i want to see you change.

and that's how Simon ends up bringing Baz back to his flat, and btw: Simon has a rule about never bringing people back to his flat bc it's weird as fuck. his room is really tiny, and it's cluttered as fuck in a Howl's bedroom type way. he keeps to the same cheap, casual style for all his clothes, but he needs things in a bunch of sizes. shoes are a nightmare. he has to take care of his hair in a million different fucking ways. so he has the lives of a dozen people shoved into a room the size of a shoebox, and his mattress has no frame. that shit is just on the floor, so it takes up less space. and there's this mirror, a wide full bodied mirror, propped up against the wall facing the bed, so that the first thing Simon can do each day is roll over and look at himself.

Simon and Baz have supper together, they talk, they pretend this isn't weird as fuck and, even though it is weird as fuck, they still have so much chemistry, and this is a fanfic, so they just end up having sex again but it's supposed to be kinda emo and tender and look, it's what my heart wants, ok?

morning comes. Simon wakes to Baz's hands on his face. which is already and improvement compared to last time. Baz is looking at him very seriously, but also very like. softly. he's touching Simon's features, tracing them, and Simon is quiet for a very long time, watching him do this, until he's just like. what are you doing.

Baz: "Getting to know you." A pause. "Why does it happen?"

Simon: "I don't know."

Baz: "Are there other people like you?"

Simon: "I don't know."

Baz, sighing: "Well, what do you know?"

Simon: "That I'm still me. Inside, I mean. Like... if you had a book, and every day you gave it a new cover, the story wouldn't change."

Baz: "You must get lost on a lot of shelves."

Simon: "Yeah."

and from there, Baz is just a part of Simon's life the same way Penny is, he knows the truth, and he deals with it. for the first time in Simon's adult life, he gets to really date. he and Baz do a bunch of domestic shit together, for months, and it's so good. all of it is so good, all the time, and they fall so fucked up deep in love with each other.

(detail from this point that is relevant later: Baz and Simon make a game out of Baz recognising Simon at work on days when he hasn't seen yet what he looks like. Simon will come in and try to act like a stranger, but Baz can Where's Waldo him every time.)

but then Christmas comes. and Baz has to go home to see his family. and i don't have an exact idea of how this convo goes, only that it is not a fight of any kind, like, it is a normal convo about the holidays but Baz apologises to Simon during it for not telling his family about him, he says they'd want Baz to bring Simon home if he did (bc i just don't wanna fuck with homophobia in this so we've shot Malcolm with the ally beam) and he wouldn't know how to explain Simon's whole... thing to them, and Simon kinda realises that like. he can't ever be the type of boyfriend Baz can bring home to his family. he can't ever be the type of boyfriend Baz gets to have a normal life with.

SO SIMON GHOSTS HIM.

like, Baz comes back from his family's place, annoyed that Simon hasn't returned any of his texts or calls, only to find that Simon and Penny have literally fucking moved flats in the two weeks he's been gone. and obvs he's fucking devastated and confused by this and desperately trying to get Simon to respond to him, but he won't.

Simon goes out of his way to find a new bookshop to go to, and that's the end of things for about a week or so, and i haven't actually decided what happens here exactly, but the general idea i wanna go with is that Simon goes to the bookshop Baz works at just for the sake of seeing him, checking up on him, bc he misses him.

but remember that game they played? so yeah, Baz walks up to say his usual like, "hey, can I help you find anything?" but he fucking clocks Simon after like ten seconds.

scene change: they're in Simon's new flat, like maybe Baz demanded that if Simon is going to break up with him he owes it to him to do it goddamn properly, but i dunno. details, details. but they end up getting in a huge fucking fight and Simon reveals the reason he ghosted Baz was bc he realised Baz can't have a real life with him and Baz is like:

"You don't get to decide that for me! You're still you, you're still lovely—"

"You don't even know what I look like!"

"I don't care what you look like, you fucking moron, I care that you're Simon Snow! There's a person inside you that exists every day, even when everything else changes, and he's lovely. I love him. The rest doesn't matter, how can you not see that? Stop telling me I'm not allowed to love you however you are, I'll love you a hundred different ways, Simon. Any size, any shape. I'll love you over, and over, and over. That's a life for me. A real life for me. You!"

and then Simon throws his arms around Baz's neck and hugs him like he needs him to breathe and Baz clings to his shirt and they're both prolly crying all loud and gross, but it's fine. they're gonna be fine.

the next day: Simon wakes up to Baz's mouth on the back of his neck. "Like this one, then?" he says.

"Loveliest yet." Baz brushes his knuckles over the slope of Simon's shoulder. "Freckles, curls, broad shoulders... Mmm, maybe we should stay in bed today."

Simon laughs and rolls over to pin Baz to the mattress, grinning at him. he goes to say something, prolly rib at him the way they do, but as he does he catches his reflection in that mirror he keeps by his bed and he freezes.

"Holy shit!" he shouts, and shoves himself up onto his knees. "That's me!"

Baz rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, I told you—"

Simon shakes his head furiously. "No, it's. Baz. I'm. Jesus fucking Christ, that's me. Baz, that's me."

Baz sits up slowly. "Do you mean—"

"Fuck, holy shit!" Simon grabs his curls with both hands. he hasn't touched these curls in ten fucking years. he looks older than he remembers himself, which is a given, but it's definitely him. his father's eyes, his mother's chin. the moles on his cheek, above his eyebrow, below his ear.

Simon freaks out in a way that kinda toes the line between being happy and being a breakdown, he throws himself at Baz, and they both fall back onto the bed and Simon is laughing and he's shaking and he doesn't understand, he doesn't get it, but holy fuck, he has his own face, he has his own body, he has his own hands. Baz pushes them apart so he can get a look at him, and Simon is actually kinda self-conscious when he does, which is a new feeling. he never has to feel self-conscious about anything, usually, since he knows every flaw or insecurity isn't really his, and will be gone the next day, but this is just... him.

Baz takes Simon's face in his hands and then, breathlessly, "Hello, Simon Snow."

AND THEN THEY KISS bc what else would they do here.

and uhh, yeah. so. Simon goes out to the kitchen where Penny is making breakfast and she loses her shit when she sees him. big hugs all around. Baz really does take the day off work to spend it with Simon, even though that just means lying around on the sofa watching movies while Simon works on his current rebinding commission. when Penny gets home that evening, they order takeaway and sit around the lounge room playing boardgames together until late, late, late into the night. Penny falls asleep in the armchair, and now it's 3-am.

Simon is tired. he's looking at the clock, sitting with his knees up and his arms around them, with Baz beside him. Baz has his forehead on his shoulder, an arm around his waist. he doesn't want to go to bed, because what if... what if it was only for today. how long will it be until the next time? what if there is no next time, what if, what if—

"We'll still be here," Baz whispers, exhausted. "And you'll still be you. No matter what, Simon."

and so they go to bed.

Simon wakes up to Baz's mouth on the back of his neck.

"Good morning, Simon Snow."

AND YEAH, that is the entire plot of my The Beauty Inside AU.

i told you this was gonna be a long one, but if you've made it all the way to the end of this mess, thank you kindly again for indulging me!

#ngl i wanted to sign up for the cobb with this fic idea really bad but at the time i wasnt confident i could manage #taking part in a fandom event. i might think about signing up for it next year if it runs again but who knows #thanks for hanging out!#snowbaz #ask #pidgelikethebird

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thedvilsinthedetails · 5 months

Text

Heyyyy…

hey my name is Jamie [like for now but I’m kind of testing a few so don’t get too attached to that lmao] I’m genderfluid as fuck [they/she/he]

some typa aroace spectrum probs demisexual & demiromantic also pan - in general I have nothing figured out but also a simp

neurospicy bitch

minor but adults can follow/interact idc tbh

writing request status: OPEN FOR MICROFICS RN

I’m a rosekiller loverrr but also a multi shipper so u never know what ur gonna see ig [but probably Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Dorlene, Starchaser maybe some sunkiller if I’m in the mood etc] for the record just bc I don’t ship smth doesn’t mean I support hating it even as a joke [translation: prongsfoot is chill leave them be]

if u don’t like smth, just ignore it, if u send me hate I’ll reply w shitty jokes probs

This blog supports Palestine btw

This blog supports Ukraine

This blog thinks JK Rowling has negative quantity of brain cells

Anywayyyy now that that’s out the way:

HI! welcome to my crazy blog, I love making friends im not at all scary I promise :D

Btw my inbox is ALWAYS open for spam, ship ramblings [even if it’s not smth I ship], info dropping about ur hyperfixations, venting, questions etc. [the only thing is no illegal ships bc it will be ignored] also sorry pre warning im shit with the inbox chains [‘send this to ten people who…’] so often I won’t answer those sorry, anything else I will make sure to answer but the chains I sometimes just forget about sorryyy

Barty Crouch Jr & James Potter kinnie

I write sometimes:

I fell for you like glitter on stage - rosekiller band au, this was a microfic series on tumblr that I posted on ao3 for convenience [words: 4548] [this is my fav thing I’ve ever written lol]

we are all just prisoners here of our own device - Jegulus, a oneshot on ao3 based on the song ‘hotel California’ by the eagles. [Words: 6162]

Oh where do we begin? The rubble or our sins? - ON HIATUS. Roman Empire Jegulus au with side Rosekiller, Wolfstar and Pandalily on ao3 [words: 6141] [currently I don’t want to write Jegulus - the hyperfixation hath faded]

also I’m in a marauders RP as Barty and u shld follow it bc we’re all super cool and funny and amazing and awesome and yeah @bartythebabygorljr

tags you’ll see on my page:

me and my old black biro > writing tag

Im in love with that Rosier boy > [this is a new one] me having a massive crush on Evan Rosier

the most boring soap opera > my life tag

I have an online diary called @miseryoforpheus if ur fascinated by my charming and irresistible personality

#intro post #new intro post bc my last one was kind of shitty #rosekiller #marauders #slytherin skittles #Spotify

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huexuri · 3 months

Note

Hello again Xuri, I have a specific request for you if you would write it for me please. Tonight my 9 year old leopard gecko died in my hands who was my emotional support animal for my severe anxiety, depression and OCD, I mean not legally but she always made me feel so much better instantly, giving me way more relief and comfort than any amount of medicine ever could (and I’m prescribed Xanax). Always making me feel like everything was gonna be okay once I had her in my hands or against my chest. And so I wanted to know if you would write about either boyfriend!Yeonjun or boyfriend!Beomgyu (you choose), comforting you after the loss a pet for me please? If you do I’d like it to be mostly fluff and just super sweet with some gentle comfort sex at the end. Again, if you could, I would really appreciate it. Could use a pick me up right now as I feel so empty without my Little Lady (that was my nickname for her). No pressure but thank you if you do 🫶🏻💕

-✨

hey pretty! i'm sosososo sorry for your loss first of all, losing a pet to the heavens is definitely a hard reality to even grasp. even just thinking about the loss of something/someone i love makes my stomach churn with anxiety, so i can't imagine how bad you feel right now. i'm sorry if i answered this late, i'm just less on tumblr for now so yeah i'll write a little drabble for you, and i'll try to make this gender neutral only js this once because i don't know what you're comfortable with and this is dedicated to you, i hope it helps<3 again, so sorry for your loss.

NSFW, MDNI!! - short fic

bf!yeonjun comforting you after losing a pet

warnings: gn!reader, bf!yeonjun, soft sex, crying(not dacry), mentions of loss of pet (d3ath), grief ofc, yeonjun comforts u, praise

note: p/n = pet's name

"honey, i'm home!" yeonjun shouts to the four walls infront of him as he shuts the door and his keys drop onto the table with a cling. he throws his bag on the floor without a care and takes off his coat.

"y/n?" yeonjun shouts again, but with no avail. he starts to look around the house to look for you, but he immediately stops in his tracks, his face dropping the moment he hears weeping coming from your room.

"b-baby, are you okay???" he frantically walks to your bedroom door, not shouting this time but with a softer, more comforting tone he approaches your doorknob and knocks above it before letting himself in.

yeonjun immediately slams the door behind him and runs to you, absolutely broken sitting on your bed as your tears stain the pillows you've dug your head into.

"y/n?.." your boyfriend settles beside you and pats you on the shoulder as you turned your head away. "what's wrong? why are you crying? please don't cry my love.."

"...p-p/n..." your voice trembled, cracking in between sniffles and hickups.

yeonjun nodded his head patiently, waiting for you to continue your sentence.

"p-passed,,—" you stuttered, unable to continue your sentence without sobbing even louder, burying your head deeper into the pillows. yeonjun immediately sympathized with you, instantly understanding what you're going to say.

"oh god... i'm so, so sorry." yeonjun sat closer to you, giving you a warm hug as you slowly returned it, beads of tears falling onto his collar as your head rests in the very crook of his neck.

"do you want any comfort? perhaps i can make you feel better? a massage, or—"

"i really... need you to pleasure me, p-please.. that's all i want right now," you hug him even tighter, your fingers fisting the back of his shirt and crumpling it.

"oh,... well of course, if that's what you need, i'll do it for you. you just sit back and relax okay?" yeonjun patted the small of your back, kissing you on the lips as he slowly pulled apart from your embrace. he lightly picks you up, settling you in a much more comfortable position lying on your back.

first, he kissed you all over with love as he cupped your cheek and sweeps your pretty tears away. he then kneeled in between your thighs and positioned his already hardening erection at your entrance, dragging your shorts away to the side for access.

he's quick to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants along with his boxers. the cock you've always treated with love presses against the rim of your hole to lubricate it.

"i'm going to put it in, okay? tell me when it hurts or anything like that." yeonjun reassures, you nod your head, looking up at him with your swollen eyes.

yeonjun slowly thrusts in, and you take him inch by inch. it felt like nothing but pleasure, and this was exactly what you needed. nothing could make you feel better but a bit of soft sex with the only person that you know is your barricade — the person who you could always depend on to feel something other than pain for once, the person that never fails to destress you, or the person that never stops hyping you up when you're confident...

yeonjun who you're so grateful to be with, that always makes you feel amazing even when he's not fucking you.

he slowly increases his pace, but no faster than anything that could make you feel hurt. constantly asking you if it feels good and making sure you're not in any more pain than you already emotionally are.

"mm.. you're doing so well my love. you're my pretty baby, you know?" yeonjun smiles at you as he thrusts in and out, heavy breaths escaping the both of you.

"fuck... it feels g-good.." you mutter, this being the first time at your attempt at making a complete sentence since jjunnie came home.

"mmh, feels good baby? that's what i like to hear." yeonjun coos, not in a teasing tone but in a comforting one as he caresses your stomach, mouthing "so good for me," over and over again.

"shit, c-close baby. want me to pull out?" yeonjun waits for your answer as he's panting.

"yeah,," you mumble in response.

yeonjun pulls out, biting his lip as he fists himself over and over again, making sure to aim it at your tummy,

"mhh, fuckfuckfuck—" yeonjun's eyes squint, his lips part slightly,,

with one final pump, he splays his hot cum all over your chest and stomach. yeonjun collapses to lay beside you. his warm hand travels along your torso to hug you.

"thank you for that, jjun." you finally reply.

"i love you okay? don't ever forget that." yeonjun whispers as he digs his head into your hair.

"love you too.." as your red eyelids fluttered shut, and you drifted off to sleep.

#⊹˚₊ anon:✨ ⋆#xuri inbox #xuri writes #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader

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sharkfinn · 4 months

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Hey, you said that you came up with the Little Brother au before you started Tumblr, right?

So, since I haven't been following you for that long, or at least, I think so, what was your inspiration for making this au? When did you exactly come up with the idea? Do you have any original title names?

Also, a silly question: What are all the fandoms you are currently in? Just in case your pinned post is outdated :]

oh man. hmm

i got into tmnt 4th april 2021, because i wanted to rewatch 2012, only remembered some of it from when i was little, then deciding yup i want to look at everything tmnt. then i got hyperfixated

he started out as a really ambiguous any iteration oc, around the time i was reading the northampton arc of idw, (late juneish 2021?) was when i first drew him, all it was was just hehe silly green masked ninja turtle in sophie campbells idw artstyle

(i love sophie campbells art its so good)

then i drew him in the 2012 series, and he became more of his own character. in my old idea for 2012 he was significantly moody and overconfident, had his own abandoned area in the subway tunnels for spraypainting, was good buddies with raph but really didnt like leo at all. also had a scar on his shell, for some reason?? i wont say why but he can super easily be slapped into another iteration and i love that

it was only when i watched rise and tried to imagine him in their universe too that i went hold on- we got a whole potential story here. little brother was a placeholder title really, but i couldnt think of anything better soo. little brother.

the vine flesh concept was an absolutely random idea at first that was way too cool to drop.

i did have this whole really cool arc planned where eventually draxum did get tricked into allying with the foot, theyd protect five whod help fight the mad dogs for the kuroi yoroi shards, ("looking for this?") and hed also be able to sabotage the armour in some way.

but. i couldnt have this in because 1. distract way too much from the story i want to tell. 2. having shredder appear in the comic would ask for an entire shredder arc and respectfully no thanks lol.

just imagine five is in s2 trust me hes there hes awesome (oh and you know how in canon, shredder needed to take power from draxum, and it looked like he took the vines power from him? uhuh. and you know how five also has it? but instead its the only thing keeping him stuck together? uhuh. anyways!)

ohh!! cool oc trivia- his weapon was kinda undecided between tonfa (before i watched rise) or two scythes i referenced it in page 20 :D !!

his weapon would still be scythes i think, if he wasnt using the vines as his weapon

and no i try to keep my master post updated all the time, theres HEAPS more stuff i like, just complicated to think what to put on there? for example i looove how to train your dragon, but havent seen much of it past rewatching the 3 movies, thats nothing compared to rewatching all of adventure time 5 times. i dunno!

the way my interests work is that theres a selection of 1-3 that my brain focuses on, but it doesnt make any of the others less or i stopped liking them at all or anything. i have so many interests help me

right NOW im really hyperfixated on danny phantom and tf2!!

#little brother au #sharkfinnasks #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt oc

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entorri · 1 year

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BruceFest 2022 | Ted Raimi Photos & Signing Experience #1

Ted was the first person I got to meet at the festival! Seeing him in person on the stage at the opening ceremony was so surreal— it felt like a dream. Actually, throughout the entire weekend, I had to keep grounding myself and reminding myself that I was there. In the flesh. And they were, too.

Before taking my first picture with him, I was very fidgety and anxious and I was messing with my hair a lot, to the point where someone my dad and I had met at the fest, who was standing in line with us, started to pick on me about it. The man went right before me, and as he was leaving, I was standing next to Ted and he whispered something in his ear. I knew exactly what he was doing, and so I dejectedly whine, “Hey, come on! Don’t do that!”

Ted turns to me and goes, “oh, are you nervous about your hair?”

I say, “I am nervous about my hair, yeah. And they keep making fun of me for it!”

He immediately says “it looks great! It looks amazing! Are you kidding me?”

Ted helps me get in position for the picture. He’s super gentle and respectful! We take the picture, I say my goodbye, and then I get right back in line for another photo with Ted, but with my dad too!

When I walk through the curtain again, Ted smiles and says “Hey, I know you! We go way back! Glad to see you again!”

Ted then instructs my dad to get on his left side. He explains to him that he’s going to push my dad away and that my dad has to look super pissed about it as Ted and I get all cozy together. 💀 I’d seen Ted do this in photos before online, and I was honored he wanted to try it out with me.

Ted is incredibly personable, charming, and funny. He knows exactly what to say to make you feel at ease and treats you like an old friend. At the signings, he asked for my name, which you usually don’t get from celebrities at these events— and he remembered it throughout the weekend as well! But he also called me “dear” / “my dear” and “young lady,” which felt so nice.

Men can flatter women and make them feel beautiful and appreciated without being disrespectful and gross? Who woulda thought?

The first thing I asked him to sign was this print of an art piece I made of Travis. Here’s how our conversation went:

N: Hello!

T: Hey! How you doing again? Good to see ya!

N: I’m good, how are you? I just have this art print I’d love you to sign for me.

T: This is great!

N: Thank you!

T: Where do I—? How do I get these cool things? I always find them online.

N: Honestly? I will literally—

Then Bruce leans over to check out what Ted is signing. Ted shows him.

T: It’s me!

B: Where’s that from?

T: It’s from the game.

B: Really?

T: I’m a cop, yeah.

N: Rough night.

T: Yeah, rough night. It’s really weird, I guess I’m just learning this but I’m sure you’re quite used to it, but— there’s a whole bunch of fan art which is, like, an alternate reality of that world. So, this [my art piece] isn’t in the game, but it takes place during a long night where these—

B: Yeah, with Evil Dead there’s just a bunch of— just a bunch of art.

T: Yeah! Pretty much the same thing.

N: I will totally print it out and bring you another print tomorrow!

T: Would you?!

N: Yeah!

T: Is it expensive to do?

N: No, not at all!

T: Thank you! And who do I make it out to, first of all? Is it your— did you draw this?!

N: Yes!

T: This is your—?! Oh, I saw this online! I think it’s online?

N: I posted it a couple places, yeah.

T: Not on… not on Pinterest…

N: Instagram?

T: No, it was…

N: Tumblr?

T: Tumblr! I saw it on Tumblr! Yeah, you’re really talented!

And then he asks for my name. He notices my signature on my art and says he recognizes it. I pronounce it for him and told him that it’s a play on my name.

And then I quickly show him a picture of the gecko I got over the summer, who I named Joxer. Ted said he’s adorable. Bruce was leaning over and seemed to want a peek too, so I showed him, and then he started singing, “Joxer the mighty, smells like Aphrodite,” and Ted joined in. <3

I went through to get a couple more things signed. Here’s how they turned out! Ted always has something funny to write on the pictures.

Sadly, there were no places in Estes park where I could get another print of my artwork, so I wasn’t able to fulfill my promise of getting one to him. At least I know that the Ted Raimi wanted a print of my art, though.

Insane. Crazy. Unbelievable.

I’ll be posting more about my experience at the fest with not only Ted, but Bruce too, so stay tuned! Until then, here’s Joxer, my idiot reptilian son. <3

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slowdiived · 2 years

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10:36 (kurt kunkle/fem reader)

just a fluff with partying and drinking, nothing really serious.

this is my first tumblr fic i have posted, if anyone wants a part 2 just let me know! :) i already have it partially written!

kurt was never a guy that you thought you would spend your time with. he was a spree driver that had an obsession with wanting to be seen, an attention whore in the most simplest terms. he lives his entire life on social media, making hours and hours of content to just try to get recognition. you know it's a trauma thing, you've heard his stories from his childhood and just always tended to feel bad for him.

he was twenty-three and his mind resembled a trapped fifteen year old that just wanted a stable home life.

you didn't have the best life either and that was maybe why you felt so bad for kurt. you've related to him on different levels and for sure, your savior complex trickled out around him. the more time spent together, the more you fell for him and he fell for you.

you met him through bobby, a shitty child influencer. you had just moved to azusa in hopes of new opportunities that lie ahead of you. you were too poor to live in a city like la, so your shitty azusa apartment was good enough. you had made friends with some minor tik tokers that were impressed with your comedy videos you posted. you weren't anything special yet, excited to see where the influencing world could take you.

and one of the first la parties you found yourself at was hosted by bobbybasecamp.

you didn't like his content as it was just a mere rip off of jake paul with just as bad entitlement. it was embarrassing to you and the friends you were going with but you decided that it was just for a night to meet other people that were hopefully in the same boat as you.

when you were there, you noticed a guy on his phone that sat in the farthest empty corner he could. he was on a chair, hunched over and looked miserable. you had already gotten through a few drinks, the tipsy-ness turning into something more along the lines of 'i'm going to talk to anyone and everyone here' and that meant you were b-lining straight for the guy.

"hey," you sat opposite him on the end of the couch, smiling bright.

"h-hi?" he stammered out with confusion.

"my name is (y/n)," you brushed your hair out of your face and then shot a hand out for him to shake. "i like your hoodie, do you watch h3?"

he looked confused for a moment then smiled after you gave him a compliment on his color blocked teddy fresh hoodie. he shut his phone off and looked down at his lap in an almost anxious demeanor.

"oh yeah i do," he chirped up a bit. "my name is kurtsworld- i mean kurt, not kurtsworld."

you giggled and held your vape in your hands that rested between your thighs.

"is that your handle?" you gave him a soft smirk. "kurtsworld?"

"yeah, it's kurtworld96," he still stammered a bit, nervousness leaking from his voice. "that's my user on everything, you should follow me. i post cool stuff."

normally you would find this to be really annoying but you had heard the same exact words all night. influencer party etiquette was like following a template and filling in the blanks when it came time for your username.

you pull out your phone and look up at him with a quick glance. you typed his name into tik tok and asked him if the first user was him. he replied with a nod and you hit follow, noticing he only had about 300 followers. you thought it was weird but brushed it off. at least you made it 301.

he pulled out his phone and followed you back instantly.

"you have 50,000 followers?" he asked with excitement. "how did you do it?"

you lean your head into your arms to get closer to him.

"oh i just post comedy videos/skits," you replied nonchalantly. "nothing super special, one of my videos just hit the fyp and i've been climbing ever since."

god you sound pretentious and you hate it, hate having to explain.

"oh yeah," he smiled. "yeah i have fans too, i call them my kurties, they voted on a poll and that's how they got their name. wasn't my choice at all."

he just seemed so awkwardly tense and nervous but you found him alluring.

"how drunk are you?" you asked him.

"huh?" he asked, getting closer to you so he could hear you better.

you repeat yourself and he quickly shakes his head, "i don't drink."

you looked at him with a shocked expression. you placed a hand on his knee and giggled.

"so you don't drink and you hide in the corner of parties..." your eyes kept his locked. "do you know bobby like personally?"

he explained that he was bobby's babysitter, it was his side hustle next to spree driving. you nodded and tried to listen to him with the best of your abilities, but the alcohol had finally all settled and you could tell it was going to kick your ass. he offered to take you home and he did, you guys giggled on the car ride home.

from that day on, he commented under all your videos. you could post a shitty skit that bombed on the for you page that didn't mass over a thousand likes and he would have something nice to say under it.

kurtsworld96: You are so funny! 🤣✌️

kurtsworld96: Making me LOL!! 😹

kurtsworld96: That impression is so good! 😎✌️

it made you feel happy that he was willing to always comment on every video that you started doing the same. his content was... something else. shitty reviews, vlogs, sometimes he would try to make thirst traps but they were a bit cringe inducing. you understood he wanted to be famous and you couldn't really fault him for trying.

he then started dming you, spamming you with messages. you found it super weird at first but didn't want to be mean, so you answered pretty fast. he was weird in his conversations, always bringing up different ideas for content and you would tell him whether it was a good idea or not. he soon followed you on instagram where he moved the texting too, sending memes and reels. you were lonely since you had moved to a new state and had a clean start, so you never let him back down from spamming you like crazy.

he invited you to another party that bobby was hosting and you said yes, finding yourself getting picked up by the spree driver and bobby who was live streaming from his phone in the car. it was definitely awkward for you as you had to sit in the backseat alone.

"hey (y/n)!" kurt greeted as you put on your seatbelt, placing your bag on the opposite seat.

"hi," you said shyly, a little weirded out that bobby was there.

"hey i like your tik toks," the kid complimented as kurt took off. "didn't know kurt could actually pick up a funny chick."

you squinted and tilted your head in confusion. kurt looked at bobby and gave him a glare, bobby giggling.

"what dude?" he laughed. "you're like a total fucking loser and she is like fucking cool. weird to think that she would want to be near a creep like you."

before you could open your mouth to respond to bobby's shitty behavior, he had a donation come in through his stream.

"bobby based camp, w."

"don't say that stuff about me on your stream," kurt pleaded. "he is just kidding guys! make sure you follow me at kurtsworld96, i stream too and also i make con-"

"shut the fuck up, what have i told you about polluting the stream!?" bobby yelled like a toddler.

you were super anxious at the interaction you had witnessed. you wanted to chime in but you felt like you were frozen in second hand embarrassment from the two of them. you wanted to defend kurt and set the record straight that you guys were nothing more than acquaintances, but you didn't want to embarrass kurt or have bobby yell at you back. you just stayed silent the rest of the car ride, nodding at the casual questions kurt asked you.

once you got to the house, bobby went upstairs to his room to change and you sat on the couch with kurt. you still felt awkward and he started posting to his instagram story that he was about to throw a huge party with bobby.

soon people started filing in and you grabbed the first drink you could find that someone had left on the table, unopened. you chugged it the best you could, wanting to get tipsy to forget your anxious antics.

you avoided kurt a bit, still listening to his ramblings about something called ‘the lesson’ which you could care less about. you would interrupt to talk to different people which left kurt lingering in the background. he was getting antsy but you just felt nervous trying to talk to him.

"are you mad at me, (y/n)?" kurt asked as he tapped you on the shoulder.

you put your second drink down and swallowed down your sip. you shook your head.

"why would i be mad at you?" you asked with empathy filling your words.

he shrugged, "the whole car ride thing, you stopped like answering me."

you just explained that you felt bad but you aren't equipped for conflict. he told you about how bobby is just 'bossy' which you would say is one word to describe him.

you got progressively more drunk, drunker than the last party. more and more influencers filed in which meant more booze for you. you wished you could've bought stuff you actually liked but being nineteen doesn't really allow you to drink legally. kurt noticed you stumbling a little bit and slurring your words that he eventually cut you off.

in retaliation you started crying in front of him like a child that had gotten grounded for a week. he felt bad but he knew he would have to drive you home and he wasn't super comfortable with drunk people. he only had to be at these parties because bobby's mom worked saturday nights and the only way bobby could be allowed to party was if kurt was there. he was suppose to be monitoring everybody but he found it annoying quite fast.

"kurt! kurt! kurt!" you cried out, shaking his shoulders so you could get his attention.

"what?" he asked, his body stiff under your touch.

"go to the b-bathroom with me please?" you asked, commencing your drunk puppy dog eyes as a manipulation tactic.

"what? no," he said with wide eyes. "that's weird."

you pouted and kept shaking him.

"but i don't wanna pee alone!" you rang out, your words starting to sound sloppy.

kurt obliges because duh, he wants to be alone in a bathroom with a girl!?

you pulled down your pants and started peeing in the toilet. he covered his eyes as he shut the door and then turned round to face the wall opposite to you.

"thank you for inviiiting me kurtie," you giggled. "sorry i got so druuunk, i know you must hate me now."

he fidgeted with his blue shirt sleeves and scoffed.

"i don't hate you, (y/n)," he kept his gaze straight on the ground. "you are like a really good friend, i could never hate you."

even your drunk mind paused for a second as you wiped yourself with toilet paper. you two had only been talking for two weeks now, no way you're already a 'really good' friend. this guy had to be just as lonely or lonelier than you.

you thought back to the comments that bobby was making and your mind slurred the connection together. you pulled your pants up and flushed, kurt turning around. you went to the sink to wash your hands and he lingered to the side of you where the door sat.

"i should get- head out," he went to grab the door knob but with your newly dried hands you stopped him.

"no stay in here with me please," you cried out.

you two were very close to each other now, your fronts nearly pressed together. you looked up at him and he was staring daggers into you, his eyes scanning your face and his lips parted in confusion.

"uh, okay," he took his hand off the door knob and you smiled.

you pushed yourself onto the counter, trying to sit. you got up but you hit your head against the edge of the cabinet. you didn't cry but you did yell out and grab the top of your head.

"are you okay?" kurt quickly grabbed hold of your head gently.

you let go of the spot back he started digging through your hair.

"aw, you scraped up your head a bit," he let go of your head and you sat there teary eyed but still looked back up at him.

you started laughing to make yourself feel better.

"maybe it's time for me to go home, kurtie," you sighed and hopped back down. "i've embarrassed myself enough in one day."

he led you out of the party and texted bobby to tell him he will be back in about thirty minutes. you sat in the passenger seat and kept staring at kurt.

he noticed and blushed really hard.

"what- why are you looking at me?" he started stuttering again.

you just gave him a giggle and kept staring at him with no response, just a huge smile plastered on your face.

"what?" he looked over quickly and then kept his eyes on the road ahead of him.

after you two had been in the car for twenty minutes, you started talking again.

"you like me," you slurred out. "i figured it out in the bathroom, y-you liiike like me."

he laughed nervously and looked rapidly at his lap then the road. his cheeks were more than just red, they had to have been red hot. steam could've risen off of them.

"what? no."

"yeah huuuh, that's why you went to the bathroom with me and checked my head," you just kept your gaze on him. "you would be too awkward to just dooo that as a frieeeenddd."

he laughed again.

"i-well.. you.." he was freaking out and didn't know what words to use.

he then felt better as he approached your apartment building and parked his car.

"i am noot getting out yet," you pouted. "you have to admit you liiike meeee kurtie!"

he wanted you to get out so badly but also wanted to keep you around. he was embarrassed that you caught him because bobby wasn't being kind.

he would open his mouth but was too awkward to respond.

"kiss me, kurt," you blurted out, getting closer to him.

he shook his head immediately.

"no, that's wrong," he finally said a real sentence and it was in a serious tone you hadn't heard from him yet. "you're drunk (y/n), let me just get you inside and help you go to bed, okay?"

you giggled.

"you just proved that you like me!" you yelled as he got out of his seat, shutting his door behind him.

he then came over and opened your side, helping you out. you held onto his arm and he asked which one was your apartment. you told him the number and he led you up the stairs, your hands wrapped around his forearm. he helped you get your keys out and unlocked the door.

"are you gonna stay with me?" you ask as you start leading him to your room.

he just said "maybe."

he then took off your shoes and threw your fuzzy blanket over you.

you closed your eyes and immediately passed out, kurt leaving your apartment and getting back in his car, smiling at the fact that you wanted him to kiss you.

#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x fem reader #kurt kunkle/reader #kurtsworld96 #spree movie #spree #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle fic #kurt kunkle fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington

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jennawynn · 8 months

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Chronotrek: Discovery Season 1 Episode 1

Here we go! For those of you who don't know, I'm watching Star Trek chronologically (mostly- trying not to jump around mid-season). I'd never seen more than half a dozen assorted episodes of any series before I started this, and most of what I know is from tumblr osmosis. I've just finished Enterprise and am headed into Discovery season 1. Follow along (or block) #chronotrek.

I also just discovered that someone uses the blog chronotrek- and I thought I was being clever :joy:

Episode 1

I wanted to watch this, if only for Sonequa Martin-Green. I remember her from a brief stint on Army Wives when I was very into it. Then she was on Walking Dead when I was very into that. But I didn't have a way to watch without having to pay for something new.

:joy: she 'estimates' down to the second.

I appreciate the fact that the ship is Shenzou. Makes it feel a little less Ameri-Euro-centric.

Ooh... that's a pretty ship.

Quite a few names I recognize in this title sequence too. It doesn't get me all pumped up like Enterprise's title sequence but I do like the technical, exploding diagram sort of animations.

It's pretty clear, too, that the CGI has improved a _ton_ since Enterprise.

The uniforms are super slick, too. I like them.

The ship looks so big and empty.

Being afraid of everything means you learn nothing. I like it.

Oh I like him. The flying the friendly skies reference from Danby Connor. The dialogue is a lot snappier in this series. Very much more modern than Enterprise, which is funny since it wasn't THAT old. Everything about the show feels slick and stimulating to the eyes and ears. It's hard for me to pull my eyes away to continue working.

I like the relationship between Michael and Georgiou. "She's having fun."

This idea that radiation affects you but only after x time, and that you can recover after it is silly. Radiation damage is cumulative. Even a small amount over enough time can be damaging, but if it's bad enough to unravel DNA after 20 min, then it's bad enough to make you real sick in 1.

These Klingons seem really different from those of the Enterprise. Nobody's seen a Klingon in 100 years?

Doug Jones... what a monster. :joy:

Oooh... they're facing off and at different planar orientations? That never happens in space media!

Hey, speaking of Army Wives. The admiral was on that show too. I didn't recognize him at first with so much hair :joy:

Our first episode and we've got a xenoanthropologist who assaults her captain, stages a mutiny, and attempts to fire on the Klingons :joy: Exciting.

#chronotrek #discovery #star trek discovery #st: disco #I think I'll keep this post to just the one episode since there was so much to say.

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i-like-yoongi-a-latte · 1 year

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The year is coming to its end so it's time for my silly little love letter post 💕 I hope this year has been good for you, or if it wasn't, I'm sending hugs bc same, but hey we made it through! I hope next year brings you kindness, good energy, rest and overall happiness 🥰

Happy New Year lovelies!!

These are not in any order, you're all very important to my tumblr experience <3

♥ @taetaestykookie Marrissa my new bestie to yell about BTS with!!! I love following your bias crisis and making your friends/family members become fans! Even though you live far away and timezones suck I'm so happy to be able to randomly send you stuff in like three different apps all about the same thing... I wish cute Tata/Cooky stuff finds their way to you! Thank you for being my friend, I appreciate you 💝

♥ @washyourdamnhands Kinga, the person who's like a warm comforting hug! Always sending me nice videos and making me smile, I adore you 💕

♥ @asgh0sts Danny, I loooove seeing Exo on my dash and that's because of you, also seeing old Shinee photos makes me cry (but in a good way you know). You also gave me good advice once and I felt so happy!! I've also been thinking about Valentine's Day cards already, and I've been meaning to ask you if you want to receive one from me, so let's say this acts like a question for you and a reminder for me hehe. Thank you for being my friend!! 🧡

♥ @danhalen A person who makes me smile, Reny! The thought of you makes me warm and giggly, I really love to send cards to you (I hope the card that's on its way comes home to you safely!!) and I really appreciate you for being my friend!! 💘

♥ @sepastian-ahoey the Sepe to my Teukka, or should I say a demon for making me get new interests.......... I'm feeling like I'll be following the F1 more next year... We also have a Max document date already planned so I'm waiting for that!!! Thank you for being my friend and tolerating all the rants about kpop that you don't know anything about but still kinda do, I promise to listen to your rants in the future too 💞

♥ @firefighter-diaz oh the broken blorbos.... The reason why I listened to Taylor's new album is this person right here!!!! Also I adore you, sending me postcards from cool places and all 🥺 also helping me with my silly questions and making me feel happier and also making me feel like my jokes are funny! remember hun, coaches don't play!! and!!! I will always listen if you have something on your mind ❣️

♥ @chanstopher Dreamy!! The reason I became even more obsessed with Chris's nose!!! As a nose enthusiast™ this was very nice. I could probably write essays about your talents, but like even if we don't talk much here, I really really really appreciate you. You're so kind and lovely, your art is amazing, you make gifs super fast and they're so pretty every time, and when you show the original coloring vs yours I'm always like h o w. Also I'm still giggling about your kind comment to my Leebit <3333 annnd I love to read your little posts about Chan's room when I can't watch it myself! and I also remember saying I'd show you my paintings but I haven't painted - I drew a horse though - but I'll try to remember it when I paint hehe. I wish all the best for you, may Chris bless us you with cute selfies that show his adorable nose 🥰

♥ @ambivartence Siyuan, the lovely person with who I can have fun ask game answers with! How do I even start. Every time I see your art I smile along the wiggly lines, I try to find little hearts and when I do I feel so warm!! Your art is so warm, I can't explain. Also your Seonghwa and Hongjoong live rent-free in my head, and it's also one reason I should get into Ateez more! You're so kind and lovely and I love to read your tags on posts!! I adore you 💝

♥ next I wanna say thanks to the gc, @fangirlinglikealoon & @heiskasmiro, you make me smile so much you have no idea!! No matter what app we're using to communicate, it always feels so nice to see your names appear in my notifications! I appreciate you so much, just know that 💘💘

annnnd here are some other lovely people that make me smile just by seeing their urls <33

♥ @reedskz ♥ @suklaakuppikakku ♥ @trashkingdom ♥ @joel-farabee ♥ @juhollamago ♥ @diazactually ♥ @yjbg ♥ @finnishhockeyelf ♥ @lily-blue-blue-lily ♥ @bortuzzzzin ♥ @thewestishharpooners ♥ @thosedaysthatwill ♥

#i'm posting this a bit early so i won't forget #anyways hope the next year treats you kindly <33 #i hope i didn't forget anyone but if you don't see your url here i promise you i appreciate you too #elena rambles #these people made my 2022 #friends #gc 💕#the sepe to my teukka #i need a tag for elisa #i need a tag for arah #virve🌸#ellu🍒#kinga💕#💓

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nuttytani · 4 months

Text

Celestia's Cruel Thesis

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli

Premise: Childe gets isekai'd to a Liyue where Rex Lapis still rules over it.

A/N: I'm cross posting my works from ao3 to tumblr. Also, please check out this beautiful parallel world zhongchi art by @karininogo. This particular art lived rent free in my mind until it compelled me to write a fic about it + this is a multi chapter fic.

Fic is also available on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51194101/chapters/129353446

Chapter 1: Door to a new world

“Be careful, young man. I advise you not to accept any form of apparatus that measures time… Ah yes, particularly by someone in white. It will soon be the time for lantern rite after all, best avoid all bad omens at this time of the year,” the old man said weakly.

“That’s one strange superstition! But thanks, Luo Xiansheng, I’ll keep that in mind but I'm pretty sure that I won’t be receiving anything today,” Childe replied, chuckling to himself. The people of Liyue may have been freed from the rule of Adepti, however, their superstitions still remain.

Oh, if only Childe could turn back time and slap himself, how wrong he was to ignore the wise words of the old man.

“Pay your respects! Yanwang Dijun has arrived, bow down to his imperial majesty!”

“Thousands of blessings to our lord!” the crowd yelled in excitement.

“May you always protect our lands, oh almighty!”

Sheesh, these people sure love their Archon huh? Childe watched warily, as he stood amongst the sea of Liyuens. He pulled at his white hooded robe closer, it was of Sumerian make, not that it mattered but the cotton was of good quality. Hopefully, his unassuming getup would help keep any suspicious eyes at bay…

When Luo Xiansheng had warned him about receiving gifts related to time and particularly by someone in white– he had not expected Paimon and the Traveller to drop by his office in Northland bank. And he definitely did not foresee them giving him an old hourglass. According to them, they found it in some mysterious domain in Mt. Hulao.

He really shouldn’t have fiddled with that hourglass, at least not before getting it checked for traps and such. Well, most of the time, he would have done just that except, for some reason, he does– well did trust the Traveller. Though he is sure that it wasn’t her fault, neither did she know the consequences of using the hourglass.

Ah, Lumine really needs to learn not to get her hands on every random thing she finds in obviously dangerous domains.

Hmph, wretched fate he has. First it was the abyss and now he’s in some strange world where Zhongli– no, Rex Lapis, Morax, still rules over Liyue alongside the Adepti. Great, absolutely lovely!

But, on a positive note, he isn’t even sure if it’s positive or at this point just… coping. He found out that the majority, if not all, of the people in the harbour were the same from his “world”. Like Iron tongue Tian telling his stories like always, Shitou selling his mine ores, that girl who always feeds the goldfish and Chef Mao, cooking as always alongside Xiangling. But none, not a single one of them recognise him. There is no such person as Tartaglia, Childe in this world. That he is sure of. He also figured that people don’t refer to the Archon as Rex Lapis, but as Yanwang Dijun.

This Liyue may be similar in certain aspects but still has its differences from the one he’s used to.

Funnily enough, there’s Northland Bank, in its usual place operating like any other day, (which was very strange. Though, what hasn't been strange ever since yesterday?) but he’s too scared to take a peek. What point will it serve looking at his own people, who wouldn’t even know him? As if he can come knocking at their doors and say, “Hey! I’m Number 11 of the Fatui Harbingers, Tartaglia; code name Childe!”

Super smooth. Yeah right. He’d get immediately kicked out for 1) disrespecting the organisation 2) telling blatant lies. Heck, he isn't even sure if Harbingers exist in this world. Hopefully not, he would loathe to look at his colleagues… probably ex colleagues now. Though he is adamant on that status to be temporary.

Childe and the locals have been waiting for a good half an hour now, though people have started cheering now, he wonders when “Yanwang Dijun” would arrive. Talk about punctuality! Standing around and doing nothing has made his appetite worse. He finished off all the grilled tiger fish he bought, and there’s not even an inch of space for him to move to buy a few more because of the crowd.

Slowly, a single yellow petal landed on his nose– just when he tried to blow it away, another fell on his hair then his shoulder. Now it was raining thousands of petals.

Before he knew it, the tanggu rang loudly thrice. With a flourish many officials emerged from behind a silken golden embroidered door. They arranged themselves in two orderly lines and bowed their heads like a puppet would.

The people around him followed suit and bowed as well, while Childe in his confusion just stood there dumbstruck. Until some A-yi grabbed hold of his arm and whispered, “Such blatant rudeness! You may be a foreigner but the least you can do is respect our lord.”

He quickly lowered his head down and replied to the A-yi in haste, “I’m sorry! Was a bit surprised, I have no ill intent, promise.”

That seemed to be the right answer, as the A-yi smiled back and nodded to herself and pointed discreetly upwards. “Keep your eyes and ears open, for he will be arriving any second now,” she spoke in a hushed tone.

It was like a fever dream, Yujing Terrace was filled with excited cheers and words of worship but now it was deadly silent, except for the bated breaths of those around him. Childe included. There was something about the presence of divinity that brought about certain feelings– of what? He wasn't sure.

Childe dared to take a peek, and the moment he did, those bright cor lapis eyes looked down on the crowd. For a moment it felt like those very eyes looked directly at him. The same eyes Zhongli had at Northland Bank… While handing over his gnosis. He barely faced Childe during the entire meeting. As if he didn’t even exist. Not a single word from Zhongli even after several days. He felt his reality crumbling. Is this really his life right now? Perhaps this was all just a cruel joke played by the gods or a morbid dream that he needs to wake up from.

But no, it’s real.

He tried sleeping it off yesterday, hoping to miraculously wake up in the bed of his apartment. His disappointment was immeasurable when he woke on the steps of Heyu Tea House. Once morning came, he received looks of pity from people passing by. Tea master Liu Siu even gave him a few mora meat. He wasn’t poor by any means in this new Liyue, he still had 3 large pouches of mora on his person, but he definitely wasn’t going to reject free food.

Number 1 priority for now would be to look for a place to stay. He wasn’t keen on being a bother for other businesses.

“So, how can I talk personally with Rex– uhh…. Yanwang Dijun?” Childe inquired Lao Guai. He has lost count of the number of people he’s spoken to regarding this question.

The people of Teyvat always say that the Archons and Celestia have the answers and solutions to all mortal problems, so surely, Yanwang Dijun can send him back to his original world? Or at least know a few ways on how to send him back.

“Yes of course but ah.. There is one issue…,” twirling his beard between his fingers, Lao Guai drawled on his words.

“And that is?” Childe quirked his brow, he has a feeling where this is going.

“Dear boy, it’s Mora! Obviously.”

A heavy pouch was dropped onto Lao Guai's lap. Seemingly satisfied, he started talking. And it was the same beat up words, as if reading from some script.

Get an appointment from the Qixing.

The damned wrinkly Lao Guai even dared to say, “the fastest way to personally meet with Yanwang Dijun is by becoming his…. bed warmer.” He waggled his brows and continued, “and if I do say so myself, you would scrub up quite nicely with proper clothes.”

Childe prayed for Raiden Shogun to strike this old fart down with her famed Musou no Hitotachi that very moment. But he really shouldn’t. After all, you should pay respect to your elders.

“I am being serious, young lad,” Lao Guai added sweetly.

Maybe except for this particular weirdo.

“No, I cannot let you in,” Baiwen replied in a very exasperated manner.

“Just a minute, please. I only need to speak with him!” he pleaded, growing increasingly desperate with every word and this damned lady was not making it any easier. The two of them were arguing for a good while now.

Childe was at his breaking point. It had been weeks of trying to schedule appointments with “Yanwang Dijun” but he was turned away with the same excuses each time.

“His imperial majesty is currently busy.”

“He’s occupied with another appointment.”

“The Adepti are meeting with him.”

“Yanwang Dijun is currently in a deep slumber.”

And they dared to say the last one while he saw the Archon walk lazily out of that overly embellished golden screen door.

Baiwen grimaced, whatever professional facade she had on was crumpled and you could see the deep furrow between her dark eyebrows,“I simply cannot.”

“Why not? At least give me a reason, and not one of those same reused excuses,” Childe snapped. He’s not going to back away this time. He’s had enough and today he will meet with Yanwang Dijun.

Perhaps what he said struck a chord with her, Baiwen was glaring at him with what he assumed… disgust.

“There is no way I’d let such a suspicious person enter Yiyan Temple. Look at your attire! What on Teyvat are you wearing?” with a huff of disapproval she turned away but not before haughtily adding, “and furthermore, his imperial majesty is an incredibly important and busy person, he has no time to converse with nobodies like you.”

“Now please, be off before I personally call upon the Millelith and get you removed from these sacred grounds.”

With a resounding smack, Baiwen closed the heavy auburn wooden door, in front of Childe’s face. The impact caused him to stumble backwards, almost falling to the ground. Did she really smack the door on his face? But more importantly, the entire time, the officials didn’t let him in because he looked like a suspicious person? What? These officials sure sit on their high horse and someone really needs to pull them down.

“Bastards,” he grumbled under his breath, frustration starting to seep into his mind. For people who act all sweet and nice, they sure knew how to get under someone’s skin. These officials need some training in humility. Heck, even the fatui have better manners than them.

The “attire” he wore was a loose plain grey cotton inazuman-style outerwear, with a tie lying on the side of his waist with some baggy black pants underneath it. He always wore the white hooded robe on top, to hide his bright hair, otherwise people would keep staring at him. The hooded robe however, didn’t work as well as he’d thought, the locals would steal sneaky glances at him every time he’d pass by.

“Suspicious my ass, just say it’s because you’re too concerned about status and hierarchy.” He looked menacingly at the door. Childe stepped back, his body slumping in resignation while mumbling, “you could have saved me all the trouble by telling me the truth, from the start.”

He kicked the ornate door.

A beat of silence passed.

He kicked it once more, now with more force.

Another beat of silence.

“How irritating.”

Right when he was about to give up, Childe took a glance upwards and saw a lithe hooded figure passing by the long corridor. At first, he thought it was just another official, but he saw those amber tinted locks of hair fluttering in the wind as the figure walked.

That’s him. Must be him.

Childe immediately braced himself. He slowly crouched and leapt against the solid ground, forcing his way over the tall door and onto the long yellow corridors. He landed right in front of the hooded figure, on his knees and one hand as support. There was a cracking sound, probably his poor joints. He really shouldn’t be doing such stunts, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The Millelith had their spears pointed towards him, but he didn’t care. Rising from his position, Childe grabbed the hooded figure’s robes and pulled him close. He looked straight into those cor lapis eyes, devoid of any emotion.

“Zhongli! Do you recognise me? It’s Childe, Tartaglia,” panic laden on his every word, Childe pulls his own hood down to reveal his face. Those golden eyes slightly widen at the sudden actions.

He took his chance, and continued, “Please you must help me, only you can send me back to my original world.” At some point, his hands ended up grabbing onto the slope of Zhongli’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. The brunet stared questioningly into his deep abyssal eyes, they were so so close, he could feel the warm breaths on his own lips.

Before he could say any more, the cold rod of a spear was digging into his adam’s apple, pushing him back. One, two, three.. No, Five spears were pointed towards his body. Locking his every move.

“Stay away from his imperial majesty! Someone of your stature should not touch him so. How dare you get your filthy hands upon him,” the young Millelith who had his spear on Childe’s neck yelled, trying to pull him back from Yanwang Dijun, but his body was immovable, as if his feet were embedded onto the flooring.

Childe didn’t care. Status and rules be damned. It was now or never. Uncaring of the throbbing pain on his throat, he pressed on and desperately resumed his plea, “I, the 11th of the Fatui harbingers, Tartaglia, personally sent by her majesty The Tsaritsa to wreak havoc in Liyue by releasing Osial from his confines. I played as the scum villain for a test orchestrated by you, to relinquish your duties as an archon and hand over your gnosis. So that you could live a life as a common mortal.”

Maybe the Archon will take pity on him and solve his problems. Maybe he’ll order for the spears to be put down, maybe he’ll ask for them to release Childe and just maybe he might recogni–

“Looks like he’s out of it, come on now, this isn’t a place to be role-playing. Take him away!” All the Millelith around him laughed like crazy, as if they heard some really funny joke.

But it wasn’t a joke. He wished it was. Or some fever dream he’d have to wake up from. If it was a dream, why wasn’t he awake yet? Why is he still in this strange world with cold faces? Why is it so that he misses the tedious act of doing paperwork for the bank? He misses the way Xiangling would holler at him to have lunch with Guoba by her side waving at him enthusiastically. He misses the annoying lectures of Ekaterina. He misses the bickering between Vlad and Nadia. He misses those weekly sparring sessions with Lumine.

He misses the feeling of those warm amber eyes looking at him with amusement.

He misses his Liyue.

Ah.

He’s homesick, Childe realised.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the Millelith dragging him away by his arms. His rock bottom reputation in this Liyue is ruined anyway, go big or go home.

“Please send me back to my world, can’t you gods solve everything?! Listen to this poor mortal’s troubles, I beg of you, send me back, Yanwang Dijun!” Childe kept yelling as he was dragged away by 2 Milleliths holding onto him. Both sighing at him.

“Quit your yapping, we get it! Just shut up and get outta here.” One of them smacked his head as the pair of them dragged his body down the corridor.

“I’ll shut the fuck up if you release me. Send me back to my world! Unhand me! I’ll keep coming back if you don’t listen!” He struggled and trashed in their hold, craning his neck to look back at the stunned figure, now looking smaller and smaller as he was roughly taken away.

They kicked him out of the same red door. The damned heavy ornate door. He hopes that Zhon– Dijun somehow feels pity for him and does something, anything really. He contemplates and starts to aimlessly walk away from the temple.

Meanwhile, Yanwang Dijun’s eyes followed the resigned boy’s figure move away from the entrance. How intriguing, he thought. He had never met such a strange human in his entire 6000 years of life. But his words did shock him. He was aware of the fact that different worlds do exist, though he never ventured deep into that knowledge so as not to stumble upon any forbidden knowledge, lest he caught the ire of Celestia.

He is broken from his trance as Ninnguang, quietly speaks under her breath who was watching the entire scene unfold right behind him, “I wonder what that was… Weird fellow.”

“Your majesty, are you… Unharmed? Should I call for the healers?” Ganyu asks in concern, who was also next to Ninnguang.

Very sweet of her to care for his health, however, it would be quite impossible for any mortal man to cause even a scratch on his face. “I’m quite fine, my child. Not to worry,” he says before a pause and inquires, “Ganyu, are you aware of any man named as… Childe or Tartaglia?”

Her blue hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head, “I’m afraid, I do not know, my lord. I have never heard of any one going by those peculiar names,” she replied, looking at him with confusion.

“I see.”

Peculiar name for a peculiar boy indeed. He does believe in this “Childe’s” story, contrary to the children surrounding him. After all, there is no one in this world, alive, who would know of his true name, Zhongli.

It's been centuries since anyone called him by that name. Not even many of his immortal friends know about it.

A small smile graced the Archon’s lips. Things were about to get interesting in his mundane life, it seemed.

Author’s Notes for Chapter 1

[1] Someone in white - The colour white is known as one of the unluckiest Chinese colours because it is associated with funerals.

[2] Apparatus that measures time - In China, it is considered inappropriate to give a clock to someone as it sounds similar to bidding farewell to them on their deathbed. This cultural belief associates giving someone a clock with sending them off to the afterlife.

[3] Luo 罗 - Common chinese last name.. it means: gauze, to collect, to gather, to catch, to sift

[4] Xiansheng - Mister (in this context)

[5] Yanwang Dijun - Rex Lapis’ name in CN

[6] Tanggu- Chinese drum

[7] A-yi - Middle aged lady/ aunt

[8] Lao Guai - Old Guai

[9] Guai (name) - Weirdo/strange (so basically the name Lao Guai means weirdo old man)

(A huge shout out to my fav jiejie helping me with the CN part of this fic, you’ve no idea how many times I badgered her for different ways of addressing people.)

[10] Baiwen - Ninnguang's secretary in genshin.

[11] Childe’s attire so this was the closest robes I could find to what I had in mind ( Which was more commoner like and roughed out in texture) but make it grey like his in-game uniform.

Though, in Karin san’s art he’s wearing super loose robes that expose his chest, which is covered by white bandages and is also wearing some dark choker with a little tassel in the middle. Karin san also mentions that Childe is partially cross dressing? Perhaps the attire he wore was a bit more on the feminine side shrugs. In that context, I do suppose Childe being refused to enter would make more sense. But I opted for the status/commoner/nobody route.

[12] So before you guys get confused with the constant switching between Childe saying: Rex Lapis, Yanwang Dijun or Zhongli. To summarise, he says yanwang dijun when he’s talking with people of this parallel world Liyue, but when it’s him thinking or talking to himself in his mind, he says Rex Lapis or Zhongli. Probably says Zhongli when he feels emotional or remembers stuff.

[13] Yiyan Temple - A huge yellow/golden building you will see in Yujing Terrace, people come to worship and give offerings to the Geo Archon here. You will see an NPC called Bu’yun (Jade chamber guide) right next to it in the game.

I decided to make Yiyan Temple as Dijun’s home/place of work because it made sense, even though initially I wrote Jade Chamber but… For that, Childe would need to learn how to fly because no way he could reach the sky from a jump…this isn’t a xianxia story :”D

[14] Isekai - I’ll be roughly explaining this because while writing this fic, I was confused if this was even isekai in the first place? So let’s break it down! Isekai itself basically means “another world” and there are two types of isekai (which I’ll explain soon) and the new world could be anything! From parallel worlds, fantasy world, a video game, a novel, you name it.

a) Isekai tensei = in which the protagonist is reincarnated into another world (that’s the literal translation btw) by… well dying xD cause of death is usually by our favourite!! Truck-kun!! If not, many other reasons e.g. choking on a dumpling, being murdered, falling down a 3 storey building, etc. So there’s actually a sub-genre of this particular isekai, in which, after death, the soul of the protagonist occupies the body of another living being from the new/other world. This is called transmigration. Though some people consider transmigration to be a separate type of isekai on its own.

b) Isekai ten’i = in which the protagonist is either summoned into the new world or is teleported to it (again, the literal translation) via some item or channel that connects it to the new world. In this type of isekai, the protagonists don’t die. It’s something like sneaking into your uncle’s wardrobe and walking into some snowy plains of narnia.

[15] NPCs - all of the side characters that are in this fic are all in game characters and NPCs. You’ll find them if you search them up. At first I thought linking the NPCs to genshin wiki would be cool but then my author’s note would become incredibly long…er than it already is TT I’m sorry.

Alright, my comrades, I hope my unnecessary rambling in the author’s notes wasn’t so boring. You will see me with another chapter… I already have the second chapter outlines, just need to write it out. But it's currently exam season and I've been busy so next update might be around late November. Check me out on my twitter / ao3 / wattpad if you're interested! I go by @nuttytani for all :DD

(also unsure if anyone actually wants to get tagged for this multi chapters fic, if you are interested, let me know!)

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #zhongli #rex lapis #zhongli x childe #childe x zhongli #zhongchi #tartali #zhongchili #morax #zhongli genshin impact #childe tartagalia #tani writes!!

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rjalker · 11 months

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emptmain said:

Not a bot. Just want to have an empty main for privacy reasons

rjalker said:

yeah this just makes you look like a stalker or some other kind of bigot.

closeted-punk said:

I'm literally @closeted-punk. You can just... ask why someone followed you if you don't know instead of being an ass? I don't see the point in you doing this. It's weirdly aggressive for no reason. Plenty of people have mains that aren't super active while their sideblogs are.

#It's literally just an asshole move and the blog is somewhat customized. I just don't tend to put a ton of effort into how blogs look#in order to keep it easy for me to read#You're literally just being a dick here

rjalker said:

How is me being concerned that someone is stalking me and block evading me being an ass. Many bigots have created blank blogs to stalk me after I blocked them. Pointing out what 90% of people are going to assume is not me being an ass nor am I being aggressive.

Plenty of people have mains that aren't active, but they still have posts on them that show something about their personality and at least make it clear they didn't just make this blog to stalk people.

This is literally not me being an ass, this is me being concerned about my safety. How many posts have so many people made now warning people that if their blog is empty with a default icon people are going to assume the worst?

Your main blog being empty is creepy and literally just makes it look like you're a stalker. This is just a fact. This is not me being aggressive or an ass. This is literally just a fact. Having your blog empty like this is just going to creep people out and think you're dangerous.

I didn't even have to tell you what the problem was I could have just blocked you, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to go "oh, crap, I didn't think of that".

But if you're just going to call me names for being concerned that your blank blog, which thousands of people have posted about not being okay, means you're a bigot block evading and stalking me, then I will just block you.

If you don't want people to think you're a creeper, then post stuff on your main blog. You do not need to have it completely empty for "privacy reasons". You can post things that do not identify you.

But if you're going to keep it this way when you know how bad it makes you look you literally do not get to be mad when people assume the worst and block you.

I have had too fucking many bigots stalk me on tumblr to give blank blogs the benefit of the doubt, because every time I do they start harassing me.

My comment is not me being "aggressive for no reason". How many posts have how many people made explaining over and over again that having a blank blog like this is creepy.

Your blank blog has no posts other than this one. Why should I even assume that you'd respond if I asked? Why should I give a blank blog that doesn't even give no hint of what kind of people you think deserve rights the benefit of the doubt? For all your main blog tells me, you could be a Nazi.

How many people have you followed and immediately been blocked by?

There's a reason for that. And at this point you should be well aware of it. If you're going to keep your main blog empty when you know it creeps people out, you do not get to act like we're being aggressive assholes when we tell you, "Hey this is super creepy and you're making me think you pose a threat to me" -.-

You are literally making people think they are in danger from stalkers with your blog like this. And you should know this considering this post is several months old.

Your tags are fucking infuriating:

No, you are literally making people afraid. Telling you you are making people afraid is not me being a dick. You are literally making people afraid and instead of responding in any way to say "oh no I didn't mean to sorry"

You're insulting me for giving you the benefit of the doubt by telling you what the problem is instead of instantly blocking and reporting you.

Do not fucking be shocked or offended when tons of people block you for this behavior. This is not about making your blog look nice. It's about not fucking scaring people into thinking they're being stalked!

Update:

@closeted-punk said:

Please go to therapy for this. I'm not saying this to be a douche. I'm literally saying this because this kind of reaction is a trauma response that when pointed at someone else like you are doing now, also does harm to the other person. You jumped to a conclusion due to prior trauma, but that doesn't excuse this behavior but gives a reason for it.

Just block me and move on. I'm blocking you since I'm not going to entertain this when it's clearly something you need to work on. I've been stalked too, namely by people I knew offline and still have delusions of being stalked. I get it. But your own reactions are not appropriate for this situation because of your panic. There was a lot of ways to be able to deal with this situation instead of vagueposting about me and then doing this, because it does come off as aggressive and how you are acting is as if you expect everyone else to know your trauma beforehand or know all your communication needs.

I'm being genuine here. Good luck recovering and please do not interact with me anymore.

So yeah, free fucking blocklist, everyone!

Giving this bullshit its own post for posterity. Like you are on the "we block blank blogs" website and you know that fucking literal Nazis and TERFs run rampant and you know people think your blank blog is creepy and this is your response? Straight up ableism? doubling down on your bullshit when you know it's creeping people out???

Like have fun being blocked and reported by everyone you follow, you know, like the thousands of posts everyone has made warning that this is what happens.

#long post #blank blogs #free blocklist #ableism #and this is why we don't give people the benefit of the doubt!#closeted-punk #emptmain

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skyjynxart · 5 months

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I'm tired.

I'm tired of companies controlling everything. I'm tired of being unable to leave 'home' or get by on my own bc I'm disabled & poor & can't afford to move somewhere I MIGHT be able to get work as a disabled person. I'm tired of having to do pages and pages of admin to access the most basic assistance. I'm tired of buying the exact same groceries I bought 5 years ago, and paying 10x as much for them ( literally, I found an old receipt recently from September 2018 ).

I'm tired of my quality of living going down consistently no matter my efforts to improve it. I'm tired of getting left behind because I can't keep up and because I have virtually no support system to even help me ( virtually bc there's like 2 people but they're 2 people and they can't fix my life a support system is a SYSTEM for a reason it's supposed to be a spider's web connected at many points which are in turn all connected to their own points you feel me )

I'm tired of trying to keep up. I'm tired of having to do everything faster faster faster faster and pushing myself beyond my limits even in things I would otherwise enjoy just to avoid being told "actually you can just... go".

I'm tired of feeling disconnected from everything and everyone and not just because I'm aging but because cracks in my ability to interact that have been there since childhood are being compacted and made worse with age & with the commodification of.... everything.

I'm tired i'm tired i'm tired and so many people say they would never want to go back to highschool but all I can think about is how when I was in highschool websites all had chronological feeds and everything wasn't monetized and advertised and fandom moved slower and sure I already worked too much and my job was terrible but I could literally afford to cover rent with my highschool job and buy food with it and even occasionally spare a few bucks to see a movie or save up to buy merch at a convention.

When I was in highschool it was normal to meet someone in public and become friends and follow each other's socials and actually talk and meet up at the next event ( I think a lot about this person named Sprout that I met at Matsuricon one year- we spent the whole day together and followed each other on tumblr for a long time after and you were really cool )

When I was in highschool ( I didn't do this because I was a bit behind the times even then but ) it was normal and common to keep in touch on snapchat by keeping up a 'streak' with your friend, sending them a picture of you smiling or whatever you were doing- and sending it to them directly! A younger friend got me to do it a few years after I graduated and I haven't talked to them for almost 2 years now because we just never have the time.

When I was in highschool if I saw someone wearing an anime shirt- even if it wasn't a series I knew- it was as good as a pride flag that broadcasted I am safe to talk to and I could say "Hey I love your shirt" and without fail get a smile in response instead of an awkward "oh... thanks" and an expression that says this stranger is talking to me ew. ( alright that one might be hyperbolic/super personal but the mainstreamification of niche interests has some consequences that aren't all great damn it! )

I'm not saying all this because I'm some old fart dreaming of bygone eras- I only graduated 10 years ago!- I'm saying this because I can't imagine how I would have survived without all of that, because I am surviving without it now and it fucking sucks. I couldn't imagine being a kid today and trying to look forward to the future- in the most anti-young-person era yet!

When I was in highschool there was no shortage of slightly-older-people ( 3-10 years older than me ) willing to talk to me and help me understand things and teach me things and introduce me to hobbies- and none of it was creepy! ( I mean ok some of it was creepy, but I had just as many creepy experiences with people my own age, and the older kids were the ones who called it out! )

Now it's weird for adults to talk to kids in any setting outside parenting. Highschoolers today don't have the adults to show them what they could be as adults themselves- not in person, they have influencers, curated performances that can never talk back to them directly, that keep them company only through a pre-recorded performance behind a screen ( not that influencers are bad, it's just- this is ALL they have in place of the older friends I did and that sucks ).

and that void has to hurt at least as bad at 15 as it does at 27.

A lot of things have halted my progress through life. A lot of things have forced me to become stagnant and so often I can't help but think that if I just had half the friend group, half the social support network, half the world I had in highschool, how much better off I'd be.

But the world is changed. I've changed, I'm more mature, I understand myself and others better. I'm sadder, more tired, more depressed, more anxious. My body is changed, it hurts constantly and it can't endure basic tasks like standing for an hour.

I see so many posts from people in their 30s on here ( just 2-4 years older than me! ) talking about how it gets better, how they're happier people than they were in highschool, in their 20s, and I can't help but wonder- is it some kind of magic, or did you just have things I don't? Is it that turning 30 flips a switch and suddenly you become a fully realised human, the older adults in your life stop mistreating you and suddenly see you as a human being deserving of patience and understanding and aid instead of 'a 20-something who just isn't trying hard enough' and people your own age suddenly start wanting to form friendships again and finances get easier?

or did you get lucky. did you stumble on something I will have to claw and scrape and drag myself through hell to get a glimpse of, only to have been too fucking slow and watch it slip away right as I'm within reach again?

because right now I'm almost 30, and the rest of my life just looks like a meat grinder, ready to chew me up and turn my bones to dust until there's nothing left recognisable as 'me'.

anyway all this brought to you by being told as part of a group "we know its been a hard year for everyone but unfortunately your contributions haven't been enough so we're going to replace you with fresh meat we can exploi-- i mean get hype out of instead probably ty for understanding ^.^"

#sky speaks #this is depression talk don't look #cw vent #I thought I'd feel better by the end bc I usually when I scree like this but alas I do not

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mageknight404 · 1 year

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The Return (?)

(oh dear, how do I use this site again...?)

Yeah, hey, been a while, Tumblr. Sorta lost interest some years back after Twitter seemed like the more convenient social media option. Well, it still is for me, but I s'pose dusting this old relic wouldn't hurt.

If you don't know me - I'm Ray, I like drawing pretty ladies, namely Fire Emblem as well as my OCs and I love talking about them, sometimes I draw women from other media. I also like Super Mario, Pokémon, giant robots, that sort of person. I'm chill, honest.

Since the last time I posted some art here, my artstyle has gotten a lot more refined. Was still trying to figure out what I wanted to go for but now I've long since found my footing getting into doing a realistic style. Been posting my art on Twitter and Pixiv, maybe I'll start posting here again. Slowly.

Here, a sample.

Drew this two months ago. My OC, Julie, celebrating her 14th birthday by playing on a bed of autumn leaves.

Perhaps I'll see you around, huh? ' 3'

#I'm back #maybe #my art #I like this new text editor

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cagedchoices · 10 months

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GET TO KNOW THE AUTHOR.

name: mel

pronouns: they/them/theirs

preference of communication: mainly tumblr IMs these days, but i have discord and wire and occasionally i will drop my info on tumblr, give it out privately if asked, or add if someone else is looking to add. it can take me a while to work up the courage to message someone in the first place and i'm really... not good at the usual social cues of "hey how are you/good how are you?/what have you been up to?" but i'm usually game to chat about other stuff

most active muse: Caleb. i've had a lot of other muses but he's been the one i've been most consistently able to write in the slightly over 3 years since i first started writing him.

experience/how many years: i had a couple false starts trying to set up rp blogs for Samwise Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Wirt from Over the Garden Wall back in 2014 and 2015? but i just never really managed to get off the ground and start writing in-character for them because i was super heavily intimidated by the rpc and too nervous to approach anyone. finally in january 2017 i stumbled across a parody of Portal 2 on youtube called the Unauthorized Musical and discovered that there were already a handful of muns on tumblr who had picked up characters specifically based on that production and regularly hosted rabbit streams where they'd watch the video again together and welcomed anyone who wanted to join to do so. i noticed nobody was really writing any antagonistic characters against them so i wound up setting up a blog for GLaDOS and following everybody i met during the stream and that was essentially how i became hooked on tumblr rp. i've been kicking around on and off for about 7 years now.

best experience: there's so many to choose from, but i think i'd have to say my best experience was when i started writing Caleb. i was just fresh off watching Westworld season 3, i was actually feeling more compelled at the time to try and write either Dolores, Maeve, Clementine or Teddy but i felt like i wouldn't do any of 'em justice. i ended up making a sideblog to my old multimuse after deciding i would try writing Caleb, and that's where i almost immediately connected with melody/aworldofyou/copiesofme and was enthusiastically introduced to a bunch of other muns residing in the tiny but mighty westworld rpc. 🥰

rp pet peeves: one is pretty much the same as Sandra said; making a new main blog in the spur of the moment. exhausting all energy on curating a distinct aesthetic for icons/banners/promos/custom themes/etc, and then completely losing interest in a week or 2 without ever getting to write that character. and then more often than not the process gets repeated down the line until that person either becomes overwhelmed from having too many blogs to manage or too many memes to answer or too many starters to write.

i also don't particularly love memes that promote making rp into a popularity contest or seeking an almost constant stream of validation from other people. things like "send a _ and i'll rate your blog on a scale of 1 to 10/using a scale template" i try to stay far away from. arguably every notification you get on tumblr is an instant dopamine hit just like all social media is but. idk there was just something about those blog rating/character rating memes that made them feel more addictive to send and receive than like, taking the time to give someone your honest opinion on how you feel about them as a person or on their writing and characters and such.

another similar thing is reblog chains to the effect of 'reblog this if you actually like following me/seeing me on the dash.' i really don't like these. there's a level of self-deprecation and guilt-tripping involved and when people already feel awfully low and vulnerable to negative self image this just makes it worse. especially when people post with side commentary like 'oh nobody will reblog this from me lol.' and i don't think they're always necessarily aware that this is manipulative behavior, but...it is. even just the way the source post is typically phrased, it preys on insecurity and it makes me sad when i do see mutuals reblogging posts written like this because then i'm like. just sitting there thinking "i'm not a spambot so...if i didn't like following you or seeing you on my dash i would not be following you??"

other forms of reblog chains like 'reblog to give the person you're reblogging from a hug' or 'reblog this and say something nice about the person you reblogged from' are far better in my opinion because they don't inherently contain that same level of insecurity. they put the focus on lifting up and supporting the person you're reblogging from instead of centering on yourself.

plots or memes: i like both but i am very much a memes person because i feel like i'm not very good at plotting.

long or short replies: i don't really have a preference! but lately my thing generally seems to be letting the length creep up so my replies just get longer and longer over time. i never expect anyone to match me, but like. the one thing that would crush my soul is me posting like. 5-7 paragraphs and getting back a one sentence or one word response 😭

are you like your muses: i have a few things in common with caleb, one of them being that we're both neurodivergent and just trying to exist in a society where it is typically seen as undesirable to be classed as such. i stumbled across a venn diagram a while back comparing and contrasting common traits associated with ptsd and autism and it has given me a lot to take into consideration in the way that i portray caleb

tagged by: @k4ndall

tagging: @gunslingcr @paddyfuck @weirdwonderful @killjoysanonymous @prettydead & you (not labeled)

#i'm an underachiever — out.#dash games.#in which getting to know me means getting to know...that i ramble a lot

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