#they’re also like a full head shorter than I am

[drygrasses]

Went to a therapist today for the first time in a few years! They’re nonbinary and a year younger than I am (💀) but they took me seriously when I described my Issues (I’m mostly there for ADHD reasons…family things will have to wait) and seemed on board with pursuing a diagnosis so I’m really hopeful, genuinely

[dem-obscure-imagines]

You're So Timeless | Vol. 2

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. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.

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 Recovery Period

When you woke up, Steve was there sitting in the infirmary, sleeping. His head was leaning back against the wall, snores deep and quiet. It was dark. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You blinked a few times and took a breath, your chest protesting when you did.

The monitor you were hooked to started beeping loudly and Steve awoke, meeting your eyes. He called for Bruce and stood from his chair, approaching the side of your bed. You reached for his hand and he gave it to you immediately, fingers latching onto yours, as though to prove you were awake, that you were alive.

Bruce arrived and gave you the rundown, the grenade, which you remembered, the fact that you had a cracked rib and quite a bit of bruising, but that you had gotten very lucky otherwise. He prescribed you some pain meds and six weeks of rest with a brace before he’d reevaluate.

And at first, it wasn’t bad. Sam played a lot of Fortnite with you. You were pretty good at it, surprisingly. Tony had a pretty extensive collection of movies and you had every snack you could ever dream of. You got some reading done, you picked up crochet, and everyone spent a lot of time entertaining you.

Bucky introduced himself. Steve had talked about him a bit before you met him, but the man standing in front of you was a lot quieter than you’d expected, more timid. You figured he’d open up more once he was convinced none of you were scared of him. And you weren’t. The dangerous part of him was the Winter Soldier, something Wanda had been working with him to unwind from the depths of his mind.

After a few days, when your pain had toned down a bit, Natasha sat you on a stool in the kitchen and gave your hair a trim, getting rid of the singed ends. Wanda got into the undercover stash in one of the bathrooms and found a few bottles of hair bleach and some blue dye. Steve found the three of you in there with hair shears, and a bowl of mixed blue dye that Wanda was painting onto your freshly bleached ends.

He had no complaints. After all, blue was your color. It was quite a bit shorter, too, but he thought it suited you. He thought everything suited you, to be honest.

You did some online shopping in those first few weeks. Your Avengers allowance was no joke and you had barely touched any of it yet, which meant a new reading chair was well within the budget, a cool round one than you could hang from the ceiling. It was Steve that found you pushing the giant box down the hall when it arrived.

“Hey! Woah, are you supposed to be pushing that?”

You froze, turning to face him. “Maaaaybe.”

“Alright, move.” He chuckled, rolling up his sleeves and taking over, pushing it down the hall to your room. “What is this anyway?”

“New reading chair. It’s really cool, it hangs from the ceiling.”

“And you were going to do that part, too?”

“I was gonna figure it out. Maybe use my powers for that part.”

“Ah, right. Forgot about those.”

“Me too, honestly. Haven’t used them much lately.”

“For good reason.” He straightened out, the box now sitting in the middle of your room. “How are you feeling, better?”

“A lot better. Still a little sore, but my bruises are starting to clear up.” You motioned to the brace you had to wear around your middle. “Might be out of this thing before six weeks if I can help it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Bruce says.”

“Of course.” You nodded, using a pair of scissors to slice the tape along the top of the box.

Steve opened it up and started taking parts out. You reached for the instructions and sat down next to him on the floor, familiarizing yourself with the process. It didn’t look too difficult and it was only a few pieces of hardware.

“I’m gonna go grab some of Tony’s tools.” He told you, walking towards Tony’s workroom. He returned a few minutes later with a drill and a screwdriver. “Alright, where are we starting?”

“Okay, so we attach the chair part to the support chains, and then those get screwed into the ceiling. Like this.” You showed him the diagram.

“I’m no handyman, but I think we can figure it out.” He grinned, scooting a little closer to you.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”

It didn’t take long. Less than an hour. The two of you talked, joked, laughed. Eventually, you used your powers to hold the thing in place so Steve could screw it into the ceiling. He got off the stepladder and sat in the chair, testing the strength of the chair himself before deciding it was good enough for you. With a smile, he got up and motioned for you to give it a try.

You put the cushions on the chair and sat down, smiling. “I’ve always wanted a chair like this.”

“Well I’m glad I could help that dream come true.” He chuckled. He handed you the book sitting on your desk. “Here, give it a real test.”

“Oh good idea.” You chuckled, positioning the book in your hands, curling your legs into your desired reading position. Yep, it worked. And it was pretty comfortable. “Now all I need is a little lamp over here.”

“Let me know when that comes in.” Steve chuckled, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “I’ll be here.”

Steve watched you with a soft smile, how happy you were. Maybe someday, he would build other things for you, in a house you shared. A nice little place in the suburbs, or on a farm somewhere, like Clint had made for his wife, Laura. He’d build you a million reading chairs. Hell, he’d build you a whole library if it’d put that smile on your face.

“You ever built Legos before?” you asked.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

“Alright, we’ll fix that. There’s a really easy fix to that, actually.” You pulled out your phone, clicked a few links, and then looked back up at him with a smile. “It’s on its way.”

“What’s that look for?”

“You will find out in two to three business days.”

***

By the time your Millennuim Falcon Lego set came in, Steve had been sent on another mission. And while he was gone, the Compound got an unexpected visitor in the form of Scott Lang, who Sam found on the roof and promptly got his ass kicked by while you were sitting at the monitors, one of the only things that you could do with your current injury.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Oh I won’t.” You spun out of your office chair, made a portal to the warehouse, and stepped through it, using your augmented goggles to find the guy, trapping him in a tiny forcefield. Sam came into the warehouse shortly after, looking at the bubble you’d made with interest.

“Got him. Ow!” Something nipped at your ankle and you looked down to find hundreds of ants. “Oh FUCK no.” You dropped him and kicked off the ants, making a platform of energy to stand on so they couldn’t crawl on you.

“Hey man, she’s injured!” Sam called into the room, looking around for wherever he had gone.

“Sorry!” The attacker replied.

And that was the last you saw or heard from him until Sam tracked him down, offering him membership on the team, if he so wanted it. Someone who shrunk could be a great asset on the team. Which is why when he told the rest of you about Hope, someone who did the same but with wings, obviously, she was invited, too.

The team was growing, and as it did, the Compound felt less empty, which was nice, especially when the team was split off doing their own things.

Steve came back shortly after, looking tired. It hadn’t been anything too bad, from what you’d heard, but he, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had been gone for a week. Still, the moment he was back, he popped his head into your room.

“Hey.”

“When did you guys get back?” You asked, looking up from your book, curled up in your reading chair.

“Just now. Um, I’m gonna take a shower, and then…Legos?” He asked, eyes earnest. You could tell he had been thinking about it the whole time he’d been gone.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve got ‘em ready to go.”

“Excellent. See you in twenty.” He saluted, walking down the hall to his room. You got the massive box of Legos out of your closet and brought it out to the table in the lounge, waiting patiently for Steve, who got out of the shower not that long after, dressed in sweats and a tank-top, still a bit damp from the water.

“Tadaaaa~” you said, pushing the box across the table. 

His eyes lit up as soon as he realized what it was. “Where did you get this?”

“Amazon.”

“It comes with Han Solo?” Steve asked, looking at the pictures of the minifigures on the box.

“Yeah, of course it does. Comes with Leia, too.” You grinned, opening the box and dealing out instruction manuals, sorting the bags into neat little piles.

“This is great.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged. “I owe you one for building my reading chair. Now pay attention; This little orange thing is a Lego separator. It’ll help if you get them stuck together and can’t get them apart. Oh, and do not step on them. It will hurt so bad.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. So where do we start?”

Catch Me Now

Finally, after what felt like the longest recovery period ever, you were cleared once more for missions and training. However, you didn’t have any at the moment. Missions, that was. You were back to training with the others three times a week. Steve had you back on a workout regimen, but he was treating you different, like at any moment your rib might randomly re-crack.

Wanda and Vision got sent off on a mission with Clint, a recruitment mission. Apparently, there was another archer on his radar. A good one. It was his hope that with another archer on the team, he could take a bit of a step back, still be involved when he was needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to spend some more time with his family.

This meant, however, that you didn’t have anyone to go to the local theater’s Hunger Games marathon with. You asked Natasha first, but she was busy looking through some files, working out the details of the coming missions.

“I think Steve is here today. You could ask him if he wants to go.”

You could, you supposed. You felt a lot closer to him, lately. You had been spending a lot of time with him, between the extra training and the Legos. He had custody of the Millennium Falcon set, but he’d given you the Leia minifigure. She was sitting on your desk in your room.

So, with a shrug, you agreed, walking down the hall to Steve’s room and knocking on the door. He and Bucky were in there, talking hushedly about something, but they quieted at the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

The door opened and Bucky looked down at you, smiling when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” He welcomed you in, shooting Steve a look.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re just…catching up.” Steve said.

“Gotcha. So um…Wanda was supposed to go to a movie marathon with me at the mall today, but she forgot she had to go on that mission, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I already bought the tickets.”

“Oh, sure. What movies?”

“The Hunger Games.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Steve nodded. “Just let me get changed.”

“You can come too, if you want, Bucky. I’m sure they’re not sold out.”

“Oh, that is alright, (Y/N). Thank you, though. I’ve gotta work myself up to public outings.” He looked between the two of you, a weird sparkle in his eye. “You two have fun.”

“Will do.” Steve replied, chuckling as his friend left.

You left after, getting changed into the outfit you’d picked out. It was pretty simple: a bleach-dyed Hunger Games shirt, some comfy joggers for the long day ahead, and a pair of slip-on shoes. You grabbed your purse and walked back out to the living room, where Steve was waiting, dressed in his civilian disguise, a baseball cap and glasses. No one would ever recognize him in glasses.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nodded, plucking your keys off of the hook by the door.

“Oh, I can drive.” Steve offered.

“Okay.” You agreed, putting your keys back.

He picked up his instead, from the hook next to yours. You walked out and got in Steve’s car, hopping in the passenger seat. The mall was about an hour out. Steve took the backroads, the scenic route. But you didn’t have to give him directions. He knew where he was going. After all, it was the same mall where he had met you.

You gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, looking for deer. Steve gazed over at you every so often, thinking about how someday, when you were driving places, he’d be able to reach over and take your hand, bring it to his lips. His heart ached just thinking about it. The next four and a half months couldn’t pass quickly enough.

“So what are these movies about? I keep hearing about them.” He asked, desperate to hear your voice.

“Are you familiar with the dystopian genre?”

“Yeah, kinda. Like weird, bad future kinda stuff.”

“Exactly. So this one is in a world called Panem, which is supposed to be North America hundreds of years from now. There’s twelve districts and a Capitol that rules over them all. Because of a rebellion about seventy-four years earlier, every year, two kids are chosen from each district to battle to the death in an arena.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a lot. It’s really good, though. Lots of commentary on the United States government. No offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken. The America I stood for back then…I’m learning it was a different America from the one we live in now. But it’s hard to shake a name that’s been stuck with you for the better part of a century.”

“What would you choose?”

“What name?”

“Yeah, if you got to choose again, now, what codename would you choose?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something cool. I’d need help workshopping. And you? If you got to choose again?”

“I’m good with Waypoint. For a while, at least.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda fitting, all things considered.”

“It is. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So how is everything? How is Bucky doing?”

“Good. They’re um, scheduling a day to test out his…what’re they called, his trigger words? To see if Wanda’s tinkering in his head has been working.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot.”

“It is. He’s nervous, but he knows it has to be done.” Steve sighed and gave a shrug. “And whatever happens, he’s got us to catch him, figure out what comes next.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

Steve pulled into the mall parking lot, following the signs to find the doors closest to the theater. You handed him his ticket, which was printed on shimmery, gold paper, the Mockingjay symbol stamped on in black ink. You reached into your pocket and handed him a length of string with beads on it.

“I made it for Wanda, so it might not fit.” You warned.

He read the words, spaced between orange and black and gold beads. “District 12?”

“It’ll make more sense in a bit.” You chuckled and held out your wrist, where the matching one was. “Gotta represent.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He slipped the bracelet on, the beads spaced out and stretched around his wide wrist. “See, fits fine.”

“Uh-huh, sure does.” You laughed. “Look, it fits perfectly. You can almost read it.”

“Just about.” He grinned, reaching for the door handle.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“What?”

“Our cover. We can’t be Avengers here.”

“Right, um…” Steve thought for a moment. “You work at the library. I’m your boyfriend and you dragged me here, but I’m very supportive.”

“The most supportive.” You agreed. “Alright, I’ll play. Let’s go.”

Steve locked up the car, the horn honking as the two of you walked towards the entrance of the mall. You led him upstairs to the movie theater entrance. You checked in with your tickets and the girls at the table gave you your commemorative popcorn tins and cups. Steve went to get the popcorn filled. You stood over by the soda fountains. He returned with a huge grin and a bucket of popcorn.

“Look at this! They’re so big now.”

You laughed. “How big were they before?”

“Little paper bag.” He chuckled and turned towards the Cocacola Freestyle machine, looking at the buttons with wonder. “Alright what is this?”

“The future of beverage technology.” You told him, putting ice in your cup and tapping one of the beverage options, opening up all the extra flavors before choosing yours.

Steve poked the Coke button and read over all the options before settling on Cherry Vanilla Coke. He snapped the lid on and put a straw in it, taking a cursory sip. He smiled. “Takes me back.”

“Got that vintage taste?” You asked.

He nodded. “At the risk of sounding like a commercial, yeah, it does.”

You led Steve to the theater where you’d be spending the entire rest of the day. You walked him through the schedule. First was Hunger Games from noon until 2:22. There’d be a ten minute break, then Catching Fire from 2:32 to 4:58. There was a forty-five minute break for dinner. Then Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2 until just after ten. Every movie, they punched a hole in your ticket, and if you got all four, they were handing out little prizes, supposedly. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

“Got a long day ahead of us.”

“I better not catch you nodding off.” You teased, kicking back the recliner.

“I don’t snore that loud.” He said, following your lead and pressing the same button to lift his. God, theaters had changed. He set the popcorn tin between the two of you. He couldn’t count on two hands how many pointless dates he’d gone on with Bucky before he met you for the first time, how many pretty dames he’d offered popcorn, only for them to completely blow him off. But when he’d taken you to the movies back then, you’d shared gladly. And today was no different. You scooted closer, your hand brushing his every so often.

The movie started and Steve watched, enamored. It was different than the movies he was used to, sure. Maybe Star Wars had warmed him up, or maybe it was the fact that you were sitting there beside him, but he loved every second.

Between movies, the two of you went back out to the lobby to get your tickets punched for Catching Fire, stretch your legs and get refills. Steve noticed a handout for the flashback movies that were coming up. His eyes landed on the Wizard of Oz and his gaze softened.

“They still show this?” Steve asked, pointing to the poster.

“Yeah, every handful of years. It’s a classic.” You smiled. “I think I was Dorothy for Halloween one year.”

“Would you go see it with me?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Sure, things were different between you and Steve than he thought it would be. He knew it would be a while before you’d know. You’d told him you’d been friends for about a year before visiting him, but it felt so much longer, living through every day, scared to even take your hand without sending the wrong message.

You saved him the trouble, though, reaching out for his free hand. He took it without hesitation, giving it a squeeze. God, he’d do anything to kiss you, but he knew that would be stepping clear over that line. Holding hands was friendly enough. Hell, you held Wanda’s hand all the time and that didn’t mean anything. He was pretty sure, anyway.

“Where’d you go just now?” You asked, your hand his anchor in the moment, keeping him from drifting back off into the past again.

“Nowhere, I just…this is nice. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You went back into the theater, hand in hand, carrying your refills. This time, you’d gotten a slushee, and he had decided to do the same. You settled back into your seats, assuming your spots with the people you had been sitting near before. If anything, there were even more people in the theater for Catching Fire.

Steve took a sip of the slushee, looking over at you. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, it’s ice.” You laughed. “Do you like it?”

He scrunched his face. “Ooh, brainfreeze.”

“You’ve gotta go slow.”

“Lesson learned.”

The lights dimmed and you grinned, looking back at the screen, missing the longing look in Steve’s eyes, admiring the way your face was lit by the glow. And in those seats, once again, he was that little guy from Brooklyn, watching a movie with his soulmate.

***

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights went up and you had forty-five minutes to kill until the next one started. You wandered down to the food court to get something to eat. 

“So what did he mean there’s no District 12?” Steve asked when you settled down at one of the tables. Shoppers walked all around, laden with paper bags full of goods. It was a kind of busy day, actually, but it was fine. You liked to peoplewatch.

“When the books came out, I had to wait a whole year to get the answer. I think you can handle the next forty minutes.”

“There are books?”

“I have them. You can borrow them. And they are even better than the movies, if you can believe that.”

“They must be pretty damn good, then.” He chuckled. “You want to shop around a bit? We’ve still got some time.”

“Oh absolutely. There’s a Lego store here.”

Steve grinned. “They have a whole store for those?”

The two of you finished eating, threw out your trash, and then walked down the hallway to the Lego Store. Steve browsed some of the boxes. There were a lot of cool things. Buildings he recognized, landmarks, things from movies he hadn’t gotten to watch yet. There were also flowers. Lots of flowers, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night. He could see himself building any number of them with you.

You were over by the minifigure bags, squishing them to feel which character was inside. Steve chuckled, but didn’t question your process. Instead, he wandered over to a rotating display of minifigure keychains. A few caught his eye, but more than anything, you did. That was, a keychain of you, in your suit, that eight-pointed star on your chest. Right next to it was him, shield and all. He chuckled and then grabbed one of each, heading towards the checkout.

By the time you caught up with him, he had already paid.

“What did you get?” you asked through your giggles.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled, voice soft, eyes softer.

“Alright. Keep your secrets.” You chuckled.

Steve took your hand, walking back towards the theater. You got one last refill for the last two movies, got your cards punched, and headed back inside to finish off the saga.

***

At the end of the night, all the people who had been there for all four movies got a t-shirt, a Mockingjay pin, and a mini poster. Along with the tin and cups they’d given you, you’d say it was definitely worth the ticket price. You and Steve walked out to the car together and sat in the seats for a while before either of you spoke.

“Thanks for coming today, Steve.”

“Oh, any time, (Y/N). We should do it again sometime.”

“I’ll let you know if I catch wind of a Star Wars marathon.”

He grinned. “Oh please do. I’d love to see those on the big screen.”

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove off the lot. By the time you got back, almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Bucky was on the couch, watching something, volume on low. He looked up when the two of you came in the door.

“Fun time?” He asked.

“Oh, very.” You laughed kicking off your boots and setting them in your slot on the shoe shelf.

Steve plucked your keys off of your hook and, very efficiently, added his top secret Lego purchase to yours, the keychain of himself. 

“Oh my God.” You giggled, looking at it. “This is great.”

“We match.” He said, holding up his own keys, which already had the keychain of you on them.

Your heart just about melted. “We sure do. God, you’re giving my soulmate some awfully big shoes to fill, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, and suddenly, he was that little guy from Brooklyn again, at your height, in awe of the woman the universe had plopped directly onto his front porch. “I’m sure he’ll grow into them.”

Mr. Perfectly Fine

You had training early, almost all hands on deck. Tony was on a business trip, Thor was on Asgard. But otherwise, everyone was accounted for. Clint’s new recruit, Kate, seemed nice. She was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and really did have quite a shot. She might shape up to be a pretty good Hawkeye after all.

Scott and Hope were there as well. Hope was extremely skilled. You could tell she’d practiced for a while, knew her suit and the Pym Particles inside and out. And Scott was also there. He was nice, there was no question about that, but you could tell he still had a lot to learn about the crazy world he’d stepped into. Still, it was nice to have them around regardless.

Tony hadn’t officially inducted them to the team, and there had been no party announcing such a thing. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for someone. One more member, perhaps, before making it official.

You had been in…something of a mood since your little outing with Steve. It had been a blast, sure, but it had also been a reminder: Steve had a soulmate, in the past tense. There was a name on his wrist. And your bare wrist meant that it wasn’t you. You had a soulmate out there somewhere, human or super, whether you wanted them or not.

Steve was perfect for you. But you couldn’t have him.

And god, did it hurt.

You trained hard, hitting the punching bag that occupied what was usually Steve’s corner. He was there a lot, blowing off steam. Now you got it; it felt good to hit something. You spun, kicking the bag.

“You’re unbalanced.” Bucky piped up, walking over.

You looked up at him, watching his movements, but he didn’t mean any harm. Obviously he didn’t. He’d passed his mind-control test with flying colors. He was a free man now, and he was a lot lighter because of it.

“Am I?”

“You’ve gotta shift your weight a little, really plant that other leg.” He instructed, adjusting your body, hands gentle but firm. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the room, but he didn’t come over. “Otherwise they’re gonna push you right over.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it.” You said, giving the tip a try. “I haven’t done enough hand-to-hand.”

“We’ll get ya there. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t been working on it with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Things have been weird since the Hunger Games.”

“I noticed.” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. See what’s going on in that head of his.”

“It’s not his fault. I’ve been the weird one.”

“Oh. Need to talk about it?”

“No, I just…I need to work through some stuff.”

Working through stuff meant that after training, you went straight to your room, closed the door, and started listening to your angst playlist, spread like a starfish across your king-sized mattress. And that was how Nat found you almost an hour later.

“Knock-knock, I’m coming in.” She said, opening the door. “Hey. Why are you listening to Songs for Sad Bitches in here?”

“What? How’d you—?”

“Your playlist name is on the screen out here when you play stuff on the built-in speakers.”

“Embarrassing.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She shrugged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. “So, why are we sad bitches today?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it, or you can’t talk about it here?”

“The second of those options, yeah.”

She dangled your keys from her hand, the little tiny Captain America taunting you. “Thought so. Let’s get out of here. Kate hasn’t been to the mall yet and she needs to buy some more clothes.”

“Alright. I could go for some mall pretzels.”

So, for the second time in a week, you piled into a car and headed off towards the mall. This time, however, you were with your friends, Wanda, Nat, and Kate, not your unattainable work crush.

Wanda loved the mall. Seeing her that happy almost made your heartache go away. The four of you shopped around. You picked out a few new tops, some accessories, a cute bag, and it was a nice distraction until you passed the Lego Store. You got some pretzel bites and hunkered down in the food court with the others.

“Alright. Spill.” Nat urged.

Wanda offered a sad little smile and Kate looked up, waiting to see where this was heading. She was new to the team, which meant she was new to the drama, too.

“I don’t know, just…going out with Steve…”

“What, you don’t like him?” Nat asked, prodding.

“The opposite.”

“Then why are you all torn up about it?”

“Because I can’t have him.” You said, pushing a pretzel bite around in the cup of cheese. “He has a soulmate.”

“Had. In the forties.”

“Right, but…I turn twenty-five in what, like four months now? And then I get whoever and…I need to let him go before I get hurt, but I can’t.” You sighed. “Or before I hurt him, leading him on just to run off into the sunset with someone else…I just feel like shit about the whole situation.”

Natasha sat there with the perfect poker face, giving a sly little smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise. And if not, you’ve got us here to catch you.”

“What she said.” Kate agreed.

“It will be fine, (Y/N).” Wanda promised, patting your hand. “My birthday is first. Let me be the stressed one.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I have a crush on an android.”

“Hey, if any robot has a soul, it’s gotta be Vision.” You said, eyes soft. “Obviously, he doesn’t have a mark, but, if your wrist has his name…”

“That would be enough for both of us.” Wanda agreed, nodding. “It’s weird. I know…I know he’s the one but I still have to wait. I wish if you figured it out early, the universe would just let you have it.”

Natasha looked to the rest of you, soaking in silence for a moment before taking off the cuff she wore around her wrist. “Alright, it’s been a secret long enough.”

“Woah, Nat…” You gave her a moment to back out, but she held up her wrist, letting the rest of you read the name on her wrist. Bucky. Her soulmate was Bucky. It…made a lot of sense, actually. The way he looked at her during training, the way she kept herself so guarded around him. “Does he know?”

“Unclear.” Natasha shrugged. “I, uh…Steve said he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s memories are a little fuzzy. The Red Room tried to get rid of our marks. Said they made us liabilities. When I got out, they hadn’t found a way to do it yet. It showed up a few years after that.”

“Is that like…still around?” Kate asked. “The Red Room?”

“Unfortunately.”

The word sat on the table for a few long moments before you said, “What if we took it down?”

Something sparked in Natasha’s eyes and she met your gaze. “Elaborate.”

“I’m serious. The four of us,” you thought for a moment and then it clicked, “Hope.”

“Maria.” Natasha said, putting the pieces together herself. “I mean, that’s really all we’d need. Plus a location and a plan.”

“Oh my god, are we going on a mission?” Kate asked, lighting up at the prospect of her very first real mission.

Nat grinned. “Yeah, I think we are.”

I Can See You

Steve caught wind of Operation: Red Room before you’d so much as suited up. Of course he didn’t think it was a good idea. After your accident, he still saw you as fragile. You were fine. Your ribs were fine. They’d healed better than even Bruce had expected them to. Still, that look in his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m just not sure this is something you should be doing on your own.”

“We can’t bring you. We can’t bring Bucky. It’d be handing them two supersoldiers on a silver platter.”

“So you’re just gonna waltz in there instead?”

“Yep.” You replied, lighting a little forcefield around your fist and holding it up as evidence. “I can handle myself, remember?”

His eyes softened. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still fighting me on this? Do you seriously think Natasha would let anything happen to me? Do you think Wanda would?”

“What if they have something that disables your powers? Both of your powers.”

“If they did, they’d have used it already.”

He sighed, muscled arms crossed, pink lips pressed into a pout. “(Y/N)...”

“You’re not talking me out of this.” Not even with those pretty blues, you sneaky bastard. “Besides, it was my idea. I’m not leaving the girls hanging.”

His eyes widened. “It was your idea?”

“Well, it was a group effort, but I’m the one that put it into words, yeah.” You shrugged. “If you didn’t think I could handle being an Avenger, why did you recruit me?”

“I never said that.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me to do this.” You told him, resting a hand on his chest. “And trust me to come back to you.”

He met your eyes, melting at your touch before relenting, “Okay. But be careful, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise. I always am. You guys should be here to hold down the fort anyway, in case they retaliate.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be here.”

You walked down to the locker rooms and suited up, making sure everything was tugged tight, belt equipped with both real guns and stun guns. Natasha had told the rest of you there was brainwashing afoot with the Widows that were still in the Red Room. If you could help it, the goal was to get them out without hurting them. That was where Wanda came in. Her specialty.

You all loaded up into the jet, Maria Hill joining you as your getaway pilot. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work with her yet, so you were excited to. You rehashed the plan on the way. The Red Room was housed in a floating base, which was why it was so untraceable; it was always moving. 

You, Kate, and Wanda were on Widow duty. Wanda would dispel their brainwashing, and you and Kate would deal with the physical cells and deal with any guards standing in your way. Once the brainwashing was handled, Wanda would go with Nat to kill Dreykov himself, the man in charge who had escaped countless assassination attempts. This time, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Hope was going to shrink down and destroy the place from the inside, and once everyone was out and safe, Maria would fly you all to safety.

Ideally, anyway.

Steve saw you off, standing in the driveway as you flew off.

“Natasha wasn’t kidding. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Maria chuckled.

“You could say that.”

At the moment, the Red Room was hovering over a suburb in Maine, nearing the Canadian border. Any closer and it would become an international incident. It had to be now. Maria cloaked the jet as it approached, hiding it from onlookers, obviously, but also, hopefully, from the Red Room itself. Though, their sensors were very advanced so there was no way of knowing until you got closer. That put you on edge.

So, instead, you turned to Kate. “First mission today. You ready?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.” Kate nodded. She slung her quiver over her shoulder. “What was yours?”

“The local county fair.” You chuckled. “Though, I guess if you count my first encounter with a bad guy, it was at the mall, guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He is in jail now.”

“That is typically what happens when you dream of arson.” Natasha said, grinning. “Thank you all. For this. For coming.”

“We’ve got you, Nat. They did some pretty awful shit to you. Time to make them pay for it.”

“Speaking of, ready up, ladies. We are two minutes out.”

Power crackled in your fingertips. You were ready to go. Well, as ready as you could be.

Maria pulled up to the docking bay and the five of you got out. Hope lowered her helmet visor, saluted, and then shrunk, flying off into the vents. The other four set off in a linear path, up the winding hallways towards where they kept the Widows.

The hall was bathed in red light, dim. It set you on edge. Natasha led the way, motioning the rest of you on. You noticed as you approached each camera, it flicked off, the heads of them tilting down.

Oh right, Hope. Awesome.

You approached a series of rooms, doors all identical. They slid open when you approached, and sure enough, two dozen women came charging at you all at once, dressed in identical athleisure. Wanda waved her hands, red mist cascading down the hall, their eyes filling. It took a moment, but they all stopped, looking around at each other for some idea of what was going on.

“Natasha?” One of the voices in the crowd said, a blonde girl with wide eyes. “You came?”

Natasha nodded, smiling. “Of course I did.”

“You’re the Avengers.” The girl said, looking at the rest of you. “You’re really here.”

“Some of us. Come on, we’ve got a ship waiting.” You told her.

The girl looked at you and then back at Natasha.

“Go with her.” Natasha instructed. “I’ll be back in like five minutes. Tops.”

“What’s your name?” Kate asked, starting to lead the others back to the ship.

“I’m Yelena. Natasha’s sister.”

As you led them back down the hall, armored guards rounded the corner. You made forcefields at their feet, tripping them up. Kate shot arrows down the barrels of their weapons, causing a few small explosions. The Widows fought with you, taking out anyone that approached. Soon enough, you got to the docking bay, which exploded as soon as you approached.

You put up a shield between the rest of you and the explosion, blocking the girls from the flying debris. Okay, that put a wrench in things a little bit.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate asked, looking to you, the reflection of the flames shimmering against her skin.

“I’ve got an idea.” You said, approaching the opening carefully, wind whipping all around. Maria was still piloting the jet, doing her best to get close to the massive hole.

You made a platform with your power, curving it up at the edges, like a giant spoon. Slowly, you slid it across the gap to the jet. Maria got the hint, turning it around and opening the ramp. You made another platform and two of the Widows hopped in without hesitation. Slowly, you started the process of feeding them all across, two by two until everyone was in the jet. Everyone except you.

“Hey.” Hope said, landing and returning to full size, out of breath. “What did I miss?”

“Not too much.”

“Want a lift?”

“Why not?” You shrugged. Hope took your hand, flying you across the gap and into the ship. That just left Wanda and Nat unaccounted for.

You watched anxiously, waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing.

“Hope, how long before this thing blows?”

“A few minutes.”

“Fuck.” You shook your head. You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Nat, Wanda, do you copy?”

Radio silence.

“(Y/N), there they are.” Kate pointed. She really did have eagle eyes.

“I’ll get them.” Hope offered until an enemy ship opened fire.

“I’ve got it.” You said, channeling something deeper. Instead of making a bubble, you formed a tunnel of shimmering blue energy from the platform they were standing on to the back of the jet. “Hold her steady, Maria!”

“As steady as I can.”

A few explosions started at the back of the base, setting off a chain reaction. The two of them ran through the tunnel, its energy shielding them from the fire, the debris, and the rain of bullets. Wanda sped them along, until they were safe and sound, in the jet again.

Maria closed up the door as more explosions went off. You lowered your hands, letting the energy dispel. She flew off to a safe distance. The rest of you watched in awe as the Red Room fell, crumbling to bits, to ashes and ruin.

Yelena hugged Natasha, thanking her. Natasha apologized for not coming sooner. And the rest of the Widows were able to rest, breathing free for the first time in years.

***

The first stop on the docket was a SHIELD base in New York to drop off the majority of the Widows. SHIELD had a plan in place to get them back into society, integrated, rehabilitated, whatever they needed.

The second stop, of course, was Taco Bell, for refreshments.

The third stop was home, where Steve was waiting at the dinner table, chin resting against his folded hands, Bucky sitting across from him. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening. You, Kate, Wanda, Natasha, Hope, and Yelena were talking and laughing, laden with bags of fast food.

His eyes fell on yours first and it was like time stopped.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I got you a Baja Blast.” You said, setting the large cup of the teal drink in front of him.

He stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at you. “You…”

“I’m alright, Steve. We all are. And, uh, we have a new teammate.”

He finally spotted Yelena in the mix. “Oh?”

“Natasha has a sister.” You shrugged, sitting down and unpacking your order. “Apparently.”

Speaking of whom, Natasha walked up to Bucky, looked him in the eye, and said, “Barnes. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, following her into another room.

“Wonder what that’s about.” Steve murmured, sticking a straw into the drink he kept staring at like it was a potion you’d plucked from a fantasy realm. You supposed teal was kind of an odd color for a drink…

You smirked. “I have some idea.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense. The way he looks at her…”

He nodded. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed and then shook out of it, motioning to the drink. “Alright, let me know what you think.”

He took a first sip, holding it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. The smile on his face grew. “It’s sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

“A little.” He chuckled, going in for another sip. “No, maybe…maybe I do like it.”

“Uh-huh. Think about it.” You laughed.

Yelena sat down next to you. “Is this seat taken? I’m starving.”

“Have at it.”

“Alright, well, you girls have fun. I’m headed to bed.” He held up his cup. “Thanks for the drink. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Night, Steve.”

Yelena looked at you, wonder in her eyes. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, “Oooh, tell me everything.”

You chuckled. “Where do I even start?”

Champagne Problems

Two weeks later, you got dressed for Wanda’s twenty-fifth birthday outing. It would be just the girls, headed to a club nearby. Wanda would turn twenty-five just after midnight and she didn’t want to be in the same building with Vision if she was going to get her heart broken. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered.

You were wearing a black dress, knee-length, form-fitting, paired with a dark red lip, and of course, the star necklace Steve had gotten for you all those months ago. You let your fingers linger on it in your reflection before throwing on your heels and walking out to the living room to wait for the others.

Steve was on the couch, watching the Muppets Movie.

“See? I wasn’t lying about Gonzo.”

“You weren’t.” He laughed.  He opened his mouth to make a quip, but it died on his tongue when he got a good look at you, eyes softening. “You got a date tonight? You’re all dolled up.”

“Huh? No.” You laughed. “It’s girls’ night.”

“Didn’t you just have girls’ night? I believe it involved several explosives.”

“Right, well, Wanda turns twenty-five just after midnight, so we’re going out again. This time hopefully with less explosions.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, ya look great.”

You blushed. “Thanks.”

“You hear about Nat and Buck?”

“It’s official.” You grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. They’ve both been through so much. They deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Steve.”

He tilted his head, giving you that sad smile. “I am. Promise.”

The other girls came into the living room before you had the chance to respond. Nat was hand-in-hand with Bucky, who kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and joining Steve on the couch, grinning like he’d won the lottery. In a way, he had.

“Let’s get a move on, birthday girl.” Natasha said, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “The night is young.”

She looked back longingly where Vision was hovering in the corner of the room. “Be back soon.”

“Text me when you find out.” He said.

“I will.” She promised, eyes brimming with tears.

You took her hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. She squeezed it back, meeting your eyes and offering a smile.

The five of you piled into the car. Hope wasn’t coming because she was in San Francisco for the weekend, but Yelena was. She seemed determined to experience all the life she’d missed out on thus far. You couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The club was lively, music pulsing loudly. There were lots of birthdays being celebrated, it turned out, announced by party hats, birthday crowns and sashes, and the periodic cheers of groups of people, yelling out in excitement when their friends learned who their lives were promised to. It was kind of magical.

You ordered a drink, downing it quickly and surrendering to the fuzzy feeling at the edges of your mind. You were pretty sure the last time you’d been drunk was your induction to the team. You remembered that night with Steve, how he looked at you, how it felt. And then you ordered a second drink, dancing to the music with the girls, trying to forget your worries, even if only for the night.

A guy approached you, a look in his eye. He eyed up your bare wrist. “No soulmate?”

“Not yet. A few months too early for that.”

“Then would you mind if I swept you off your feet for the night?”

“Sorry, I…I’m here for my friend. It’s her twenty-fifth.”

He scoffed, looking you up and down before stalking off towards his next victim. “Alright. Your loss.”

“Asshole.” Yelena rolled her eyes, taking your hands and spinning you around on the dance floor. You let her, dancing along. “I do not blame you, (Y/N). If I were you, I wouldn’t settle either. Not for that.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not my thing.”

“You’ve never…?”

“Well, a little. In high school, we used to have parties where we ‘practiced’ for our soulmates. It never got any further than a little spin the bottle, though.” You confessed.

“Ah, see, I’ve had practice. But it never meant anything. Red Room, bleh.” Yelena shrugged. “I am ready for something real.”

“How long you got left?”

“Another year.”

“I’ve got three and a half months.”

“So I’ve heard. I bet you are excited, being so close to it.”

“Excited, nervous.” You laughed, shrugging. “I kinda just want to rip the Band-Aid off, get it over with.”

“I’m sure.” She motioned Kate over and she joined the two of you, dancing to the beat. “Kate Bishop, how long do you have left?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Ah, well, then you have lots of time to party.” Yelena grinned, spinning her around. “We should really do this more often.”

You chuckled. Yelena had only been part of your little family for a few weeks, but already you could tell she was going to be a handful in the best way.

Eventually, you wandered back over to Wanda, who was standing in the corner of the room, nursing a single glass of Vodka Cran.

“Hey, birthday girl. You doing okay?” You asked.

She nodded, irises ringed with red, as they often were when she was stressed. She blinked a few times, forcing them back to hazel. “Doing great.”

“Wanda, whoever they are, they’re so lucky to have someone like you.” You took her hand. “Now let’s go dance and forget about it for the next hour.”

She smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came. Natasha ordered a bottle of champagne and each of you got a glass. Wanda sat on a barstool, staring at her wrist. From right next to her, you had a pretty good view, watching with a racing heart as a string of letters appeared, darkening into existence.

The Vision.

She burst into tears, hitting the call button on her phone. He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s you, Vis! I knew it was you!”

The rest of you gathered your things, eager to reunite them as soon as you could. Your thoughts were racing, though. You’d never really thought of it before, but…your soulmate could be someone you already knew. Someone you were already in love with.

Someone who was already in love with you.

Maybe there was some hope after all…

The Origin

Only weeks after your night in the club, you found yourself in yet another bar. This time, it wasn’t for fun, though. You, Sam, Nat, Bucky, and Steve were undercover in a quaint little tavern in Alaska. A quaint little tavern that happened to be a front for Hydra, as it were. But that didn’t mean that everyone there was Hydra, just definitely the bar tender and the security guards that kept eyeing you up. Probably a handful of the patrons, too.

In addition to that, so were the flannel-clad guys at the bar.

“Hey, little lady.” One wandered up to you, bumping your elbows. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m all set with this one, thanks.” You said, taking a long sip from your drink.

“Aww, come on, just one more?” The guy on your other side egged on. “Pretty girl like you deserves to have a little fun.”

The guys around them started getting riled up, trying to convince you to have another drink. Never had you been so glad to hear Steve’s voice.

“Sorry fellas, she’s taken. Come on, sweetheart.” You felt his hand on your shoulder and let him pull you away from the fray, back to his little corner. He had been growing out a bit of a beard for this. God, did it suit him. He rested his hands on your waist, face approaching your own, nose nestled beside your cheek. “You see anything?”

“Bartender has a gun under the counter. Intense code-protected lock on the door in the backroom.” You told him, masking your words with a smile, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I’ll get to work on the door.” Bucky said over the coms. “Whatever you’re doing is working. Those guys have lost all interest.”

“Perfect.” You chuckled. “Thanks for defending my honor.”

Steve smiled and it was breathtaking, the way his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “Anytime.”

You really couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol; there hadn’t even been any. It was a virgin drink. Your arm wound around his neck, pulling him in so you could kiss his cheek. His arms wrapped tight around you and he buried his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks, laughing.

Once again, that line between your cover and your feelings began to blur.

“Alright, I’m in.” Bucky said. “Feel free to join us whenever.”

“Coming.” Steve murmured, a hand moving the hair out of your eyes. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, sending your heart into a frenzy before taking your hand and leading you to the backroom, where Bucky and the others were waiting.

“You were born for undercover work, (Y/N).” Natasha said, giving you a smirk and a friendly nudge.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “It’s kind of fun, though.”

The five of you walked down the tunnel. When you finally reached the main room, it was kind of dark. You lit your fist with blue energy, using it to find a lightswitch. There were several computers that flashed to life, a wall of weapons, and also, a wall of screens. There was a little electrified cell, but it was empty. No captives, as far as you could see.

You started looking around while Natasha backed up files to a hard drive. Bucky watched the entrances. Sam looked over the weapons, taking notes of the ones that were out of the ordinary. Steve stared at the screens, mesmerized by…something.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He asked, motioning you over.

You looked up at the images. They were all of you. Pictures of you in the field, diagrams of your anatomy, hospital records, your birth certificate. There were illustrations of you, and a few fields marked as unfulfilled: blood sample, soulmate information, DNA.

Beneath it was written Planet of Origin: Illustria

“What the actual fuck.” You said, voice flat, staring at the word. You’d never heard it before. Not even with the recent discoveries about space and the wider universe. Thor, your only connection to space, had never mentioned it. Yet, for some reason, Hydra had reason to believe you were connected to it.

“Company.” Bucky announced, readying his gun as a group of Hydra agents stormed down the tunnel. 

A section of the wall slid open and a scientist-looking man stepped into the space. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off of three surfaces before it came back to him. The man made a run for it, but you lit your fists and ran after him. Steve followed after.

Once you were both through, the wall slid shut. On the other side, you could still hear the sounds of the fight. They needed you. But you needed answers. It was an impossible choice, made easier when he started talking.

“Ah, the Girl from Space and the Man Out of Time. How nice to have you both here in one place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You said, fists clenched, eyes glazed over with raw power, glowing like Wanda’s did.

He laughed. “You didn’t know? Your commerades didn’t tell you? Surely they must have seen the suppressor in your neck when they were running all those tests.”

Your world came crashing down. “The what?”

“Your parents paid us to put it there. Paid SHIELD, at least, but, we’ve been one in the same for a long time. Didn’t know how to handle their little alien girl, especially at her full power, on a planet that wasn’t their own. They should have known you’d outgrow it eventually.” He tsked. “Of course, I could always take it out for you.”

“You touch her, you die.” Steve said, voice as smooth as steel. It sent a chill down your spine. “I’m warning you.”

It made sense. It was like a switch had been flipped when you were in college, your powers coming from seemingly nowhere. They’d been suppressed all your life, but finally, the suppressor stopped working. You hadn’t even known it was there. Maybe that was why you’d been stopped at so many airports.

“Not to worry Captain, I was on my way out of here anyway.” He raised his hands and started walking towards an exit tunnel.

You raised yours, making a cuff of energy around his wrist, holding him in place.

“No, you get to answer to SHIELD.” You told him. “And then you get to answer to me.”

Steve used his shield to knock the guy out with one quick, precise throw. The door behind the two of you slid open, Natasha pushing it open. There were downed Hydra agents all over the floor behind her.

“Having a party without us?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, heart still racing.

“I got the files, (Y/N).” She said, playful demeanor falling immediately. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve lugged the scientist over his shoulders, handing him off to the SHIELD agents who had come to help, one of whom happened to be one of the guys who was hitting on you at the bar. Go figure. Bucky and Sam joined the three of you. Sam put a hand on your shoulder and offered a supportive smile.

You still felt numb.

***

You got back to the safehouse and the snow outside doubled, coming down in droves, thick snowflakes and heavy winds. It was safe to say you would not be making it back to the Compound tonight.

You changed out of your bulletproof gear and into a tank top and sweats, running a hand through your hair. You met your eyes in the reflection, noticing how they flickered blue. In the other room, you could hear the video call finally go through with Tony and Bruce, who were back home.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Rogers.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“What, like you’ve never kept a secret ever in your life, give me a break!”

“About her life, Tony!”

“I’ll get her.” You heard Natasha tell him, and then heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She knocked. “Hey, they’re on. I made you some cocoa.”

You opened the door, letting out a sigh and nodding. “Thanks, Nat.”

She smiled, patting your shoulder and leading you out to the couch. Tony and Bruce were sitting in the living room on the screen. Steve had been pacing, obviously, given his stance and the fact that he was still standing.

You sat down, making eye contact with each of them, lips pressed into a flat line. Your heart raced, chest aching, stomach on fire from the adrenaline of it all. “So?”

Tony sighed. “You’re an alien.”

“Half.” Bruce amended. “On your mother’s side. She’s from a planet called Illustria.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. I got that part. How long have you known?”

Bruce looked at Tony, hoping he’d deliver that part of the news. He did. “I’ve known since you were recruited. Fury did a background check. You were already on the files.”

“What about the suppressor?”

“We didn’t know what it was. We didn’t know what taking it out would do to you.” Bruce admitted. “We thought you knew it was there.”

“I want it out.” You said with certainty. “I want it out as soon as we get home.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want to know who I am. That starts with knowing what I’m actually capable of.” You sighed. “And call Thor. I have questions I need answered. His alien friends might know.”

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Who else knew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Just me and Fury,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“And Hydra.” You snapped. “What, are you afraid of me? Had to keep a lid on my powers because you’re so fucking obsessed with control?”

Tony scoffed. Clearly, you’d struck a nerve. “That’s not it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you would take it.”

“Okay well, I think I would have been okay hearing it from a friend, in a place I felt safe. I had to hear about it from Hydra. They had a fucking cell with my name on it.” You said, trembling as you remembered it, tucked away in the corner there. That was the only explanation for it, really. And then something else clicked, too. “That…that day when Steve got tranq’ed. They weren’t trying to hit him, they were trying to hit me. He jumped in the way. They’ve…been trying to take me this entire time.”

“Oh my god, Tony…” Natasha said, voice quiet.

“Get those files to me, Nat. I’ll take a look. See if they have anything on the suppressor so I can take it out when you get back.” Bruce said, eyes soft. “And I’m sorry, for the record.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Kid, please don’t—”

You cut Tony off with a click of the remote, hanging up the call. You let out a shaking sigh, setting the remote down. Your fingers were trembling. You took a few breaths, lungs heaving. You wanted to scream. You needed to let it out.

Everyone else on the team knew why they were there. Every other person in your life knew what made them special. Wanda’s power came from the Mind Stone, Steve’s came from the Serum, Tony’s came from his massive fucking ego. They all got the privilege of their origin story.

All of them except for you.

You needed to call your parents, if you even could. They’d told you they were moving to Florida. Now you wondered if they’d moved off the planet.

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, eyes trailing you as you paced through the room towards the door.

“Nope.” You walked out to the other den, burying your face in your arms, sobbing for a few minutes until you got it all out, or most of it anyway. Eight months. Eight fucking months he’d known you and didn’t think to tell you.

The chip in your shoulder burned.

You began to seriously wonder if anyone else had known. Bruce had run all those tests, surely he had seen something. He’d told you there were abnormalities, but he’d assumed they were from your powers, not the cause of them.

Steve crossed your mind briefly, but you shot that down pretty quick. He, of all people, would never keep a secret like that from you. You knew him well enough to know that.

Aside from that, the only real suspect you had was Vision. He had been JARVIS once, surely he still had some of that database in his mind. You’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Hey.” Even before you looked up, you could tell Steve would be leaning in the doorway, that lovelorn look on his face. You were right, obviously.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Steve.”

He crossed the room, collecting you in his arms, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. You surrendered to him, crying into the fabric of his crewneck, face tucked into the crook of his neck. One of his hands cradled your head, smoothing over your hair comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He rumbled, voice deep and soothing. “I would have told you.”

“I know you would.” You sniffled, gripping him like a lifeline, your anchor in the storm. You pulled away to meet his eyes. “I feel so stupid for crying about it.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I would, too.”

“Like it’s fine. Aliens are cool. T-Thor is cool.” You sniffled again, more tears running down your cheeks. “I’m fine with being one, I just…”

“You’re still (Y/N).” He asserted, a gentle thumb wiping your tears away. “You’ve always been able to do these amazing, beautiful things. Now we know why. And maybe there’ll be even more things you can do with that thing out of your neck.”

“Yeah…” You nodded. You took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms to hide the look on his face. “I’ve got you. Always. We’ll figure it out.”

***

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, pulling the blankets around yourself as tight as you could.

Steve watched you from the dining table, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state?

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee. Of course they agreed. They were soulmates, after all. Just like you and Steve. 

The mark on his wrist seemed to thrum when he thought about it.

Relenting, Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were silently, but aggressively, encouraging him to go over to you. Sighing, he did.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve always been kind of cold. Must be an alien thing…”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little and raising the blankets you were under.

His heart raced. “Here, um…” He wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin!”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course. Get comfortable.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

“We could, uh, put on some music if you want.” Steve suggested. “I’ve still got that playlist on my phone.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” You asked, voice soft, curious.

“Timeless.”

“I thought it would be.” You smiled, meeting his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the fire. “You’re so timeless, Steve Rogers.”

He grinned. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a fossil like everyone else?” he said, quoting Natasha and Tony and many others who equated him to some dinosaur because of his accident.

“Not even close.” You shook your head and sighed. “This might be the wrong thing to say, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Your life could have looked a lot different, but I’m really glad you ended up in mine.”

It took every ounce of his being to hold in his tears when you said it. If he could have confessed then and there, he would have. He would have kissed you square on the lips, told you he loved you, that he always had, that you weren’t some accident, you were his destiny. Always had been.

Instead, he had to settle for, “I’m getting used to it, but I am, too. I’m really glad I found you that day, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You smiled, readjusting your cheek against his chest, letting out a long breath. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

His warmth lulled you to sleep after a long, emotional day. Never had you felt so safe and protected. It was easy to feel that way in the arms of a supersoldier, you supposed, thoughts meandering until there weren’t any left. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

Once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again, grateful you were safe, grateful you were his.

Even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sliver of a gap in the curtains, right into your eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the mattress was moving. And then you remembered. Steve.

The supersoldier was still asleep, breaths long and slow, those thick, gorgeous eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, lips impossibly pink. His muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other settled on the couch.

Your eyes wandered to the band on his wrist. It was out of place slightly, the edge almost crooked enough to read the letters etched onto his skin. Almost.

There was a part of you that was tempted to look. To nudge it aside the tiniest bit, say it was an accident, and finally know who it was that had been holding his heart in their hands for the last seventy or so years.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He trusted you enough to hold you while he slept, while he was the most vulnerable. You respected him too much to do that. So instead, you adjusted slightly, closing your eyes again.

“(Y/N).” Natasha said from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hmm?” You replied, eyes opening again.

She eyed up the two of you, grinning. “Cute.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got those files sent to Bruce. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem getting that thing out of you. Won’t even have to put you under.”

“Cool.” You nodded. “Is it…like right between my neck and my shoulder? On the right side?”

“That’s where it is on the diagrams, yeah.”

“Okay. Thought so. I get pain there sometimes.”

“During training?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Thought it was like a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve or something.”

“You never said anything.” Steve murmured, blinking awake. “You were in pain that whole time?”

“No. It comes and goes. Mostly when I try out new stuff.” You said, still planted on his chest, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. How did you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.” You grinned. “You weren’t kidding about running warm. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s get a move on, team.” Sam said, walking out from the bedrooms down the hall, Bucky not far behind him, looking tired.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your shared cocoon, sitting up and stretching, brushing your fingers through your tangled hair. “Alright, let’s go get this thing out of me.”

Show Yourself

“Alright, so, this might hurt a bit. Are you ready?” Bruce warned. You were laid out on a table on your stomach, a curled pillow beneath your head. It was a bit like a massage, except Bruce had made an incision at the base of your neck where your suppressor was implanted. He’d given you some numbing gel and pain meds, though, so you didn’t feel much.

On the other side of the observation window, Steve was standing with Natasha, his arms crossed, eyes focused. Tony wasn’t allowed even in there, which pissed him off. He’d tried to get on your good side when you’d gotten home and you blew him off completely, which, Steve had to admit, was amusing.

And Tony definitely deserved it.

“I’m good. Go for it.”

Carefully, Bruce used his tools to wiggle it free from your flesh, setting off a chain reaction in your body. The wave of relief you felt was almost enough to put you to sleep, a refreshing, cool sensation rushing from your head to your toes. Power crackled between your fingers, and you could feel your eyes glowing for a moment, despite the fact that you couldn’t see your reflection.

Bruce moved to stitch you up, but your body did the work for him, mending back together on its own before his very eyes. He adjusted his glasses, sure he was seeing things. But no, the wound was healed, just leaving a little dried blood on your skin, which he wiped off with a wet piece of gauze.

“Woahhh.” You murmured, coming out of the trance. You blinked a few times and it felt like waking up from a college nap, the kind you don’t set an alarm for and then come out of in a stupor.

“You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” You nodded. “Are you done? Did you stitch it up?”

“I…didn’t have to.” He murmured, still staring at the spot. He handed you the shirt you’d brought in and you tugged it over your head, staring at your arms, your hands. You didn’t look any different, but it was like every atom in your body was electrified.

It felt right.

Bruce opened the door and Steve and Natasha walked in, watching your every move.

“Wow.” Natasha said, grinning. “You look…”

“The same, but…more you.” Steve met your eyes, offering you his hand. 

You took it, letting him help you stand. Even his touch felt different now. Better. You settled, adjusting. It felt different, like even the gravity itself had changed. It would take some getting used to.

“I need to hit the training room.” You said with an excited grin. “You two are welcome to join me.”

“Can I watch? I want to take notes.” Bruce said. “From the observation booth, of course.”

“Oh yeah, by all means.” You nodded, leading the others down the hallway. A few others tagged along, Yelena, Kate, Wanda, who were all curious to see what you were capable of now, and just how much Tony’s lies had been holding you back. Sam and Bucky were already there and smiled when they saw you coming, Steve and the others in tow.

They cleared out some room, letting you have the space you needed. You stretched and then got to work.

First, you made a few forcefields. They still had that shimmer, like sunlight in a swimming pool, but they were twice as thick as they had been before. Steve couldn’t break them with his super-strength anymore.

You had more control over your waypoints and your portals, which, the more you used them, were becoming two different things. The waypoints, your stars, were a quick zip from point A to point B. Your portals, however, were more like a window that you could open and close, and took on more of a circular shape.

You were stronger, too. Nowhere near as strong as Bucky or Steve, but twice as strong as you’d been before, faster.

And then came the other thing. If you focused hard enough, and focused on the floaty, tingly feeling in your chest, your body started to glow around the edges, and at long last, your feet rose from the floor.

“Oh my god…” You murmured, lifting yourself from the tile ground. At first, it was hard to control, but you quickly figured out how to get from point to point, and how to hover in the middle.

Steve stared up at you as you hovered, fists lit with power, hair floating in the breeze you’d created. It was like watching the birth of a star, powerful and beautiful and otherworldly.

For the first time since 1943, he knew in his soul that he had to paint you, exactly like this. He memorized the moment in his mind, every detail from the streak of sunlight on your chest to the misplaced strand of hair on your forehead, the exact hue of your glowing irises.

“A picture might last longer.” Natasha teased under her breath, watching as you touched down.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve replied, already picking out a color palette in his head.

“Holy shit…” You breathed, the glow dissipating as you returned to normal. “What a rush.”

“Welcome to the fly club, kid.” Sam said, patting you on the back.

“Thanks.” You grinned. “You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

“Oh, anytime.” Sam walked over to Steve with you. “You see her up there? She’s like Superman.”

“I saw.” Steve agreed, arms crossed. “I think this calls for celebration, huh?”

“What did you have in mind, Cap?” You asked.

“Baja Blast?” He suggested, earning a laugh and a friendly shove.

“So you did like it?”

“It’s growin’ on me.” Steve admitted, that sly smile spreading. “Come on, my treat.”

“Oh I’m in.” You agreed. “Let me just take these monitors off.”

You turned in Bruce’s software, all of the vital-measuring instruments, cuffs and little sensors hooked to your arms and legs and chest.

“So, give it to me straight, doc. Am I stable?”

“Yeah, everything looks great. Vitals are great, heartrate is fine, if not a little elevated, but I’d assume that’s just from the adrenaline.” Bruce noted, looking at the numbers and charts on the screen in front of him. “If you feel weird, let me know and I can check things over, do some scans, but otherwise, it seems…you’re doing better than you were before, actually.”

“Alright, good to know.” You said, trying not to let his words hurt you. 

It was good news, it really was, but you could have felt this way for eight months, not two hours. You were thinking faster, processing things at better speeds. Hell, it even felt like you were breathing easier. Whatever that thing was that had been inside you, it had been sapping your health for your entire life. And now, you finally knew what it was like to be at a hundred percent instead of eighty.

Fuck Tony.

***

Steve drove the two of you through the nearest Taco Bell drive-thru to get snacks for yourselves and the rest of the team.

You ordered your regular, your Baja Blast, and everything the others had requested, running it on one of the team cards Tony had given you all. On the drive back, Steve had a question you didn’t really expect.

“Where do people shop for art supplies these days?”

“Jo Ann’s or Michael’s. They have a little bit of everything. Fabric, yarn, paint, beads, basically everything you could need. Why, you got a DIY project planned?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned. “I don’t do much shopping, so I didn’t know where to start.”

“We should go sometime. I was running low on yarn.” You said, taking a sip of your Baja Blast.

“Make anything cool lately?”

“I’m working on a sunflower cardigan for Wanda.”

“Oh she’ll love that.”

“Yeah, she’s the one who sent me the pattern.” You chuckled. “It’s gonna look really cute on her.”

The two of you got back a few minutes later, a drove of hungry superheroes descending upon the paper bags you were carrying almost instantly. It was a welcome sight, a full table of laughing people. Your family. You felt a little different now, but nothing had changed. Not really. They still liked you, still smiled at you, joked with you, laughed with you.

So then why had Tony felt the need to hide it for so long?

***

Days later, Steve walked down the paint aisle of the craft store, picking out some brushes, some canvas, paints. He found the perfect one for your eyes, another hue for your forcefields. The amount of time he spent looking at you made it easy.

He smiled to himself. The little guy from Brooklyn would be proud of him, getting back into art beyond the sketches he did from time to time. It reminded him, though, that he needed to swing back to that antique shop and finally pick up the painting that had been waiting for him for so long.

Surely, he could keep it hidden until your big day.

Happiest Place on Earth

Being an Avenger often brought along unexpected adventures and opportunities. Today, that adventure was a theme park. Apparently, Disneyland was putting in a whole section in homage to the Avengers and Tony wanted you all to be there.

And though the two of you weren’t on the best terms at the moment, who were you to fight a free vacation?

You and Wanda helped pick out each others’ outfits for your day off following the grand opening. But today, you were wandering the park in uniform, side by side with Captain America himself, as you walked side by side down the street in the parade.

They’d tried to teach you all to do a little dance as you walked. The only one even attempting it was Scott, who was absolutely thrilled to be there. Supposedly, his daughter Cassie would be there to see him, too. You hadn’t met her yet, but Scott loved her to the moon and back. With him as a dad, she’d have to turn out pretty cool.

“Waypoint,” Steve said, motioning you over to see a little girl dressed not as a princess, but as you, your star shining proudly on her chest.

“Hey there, superstar.” You smiled, giving her a high-five. “You look great!”

“I want to be a hero just like you someday!” She said, her voice impossibly small. Impossibly innocent. It was a cute moment, but you couldn’t help but hope she’d never have to be. That someday, you and the rest of the team would get the world to a place where superheroes weren’t needed, where there was just peace. Where people with powers could simply be like everyone else.

“You already are, hon.” You told her, posing for a picture as her mom held up her phone.

You continued along the parade route and saw a couple. The guy was wearing a Captain America hoodie, the girl was wearing a Waypoint shirt. You wondered if Steve noticed, but didn’t have to ask when you saw his eyes lingering there, his mask all but hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

A few teenage girls stopped you and you signed their autograph books, throwing something together. Despite your time on the team, there had never really been a time you’d been stopped for them. It was an odd feeling, being famous for something like this.

Steve signed with confidence, though. Sometimes you forgot that before he actually got to go out in the field and make a difference, he’d done a stint as a celebrity, touring the country to sell war bonds.

Someday, you’d bribe him enough to show you the videos, if he hadn’t already burnt all of them first.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” One asked. “I heard your twenty-fifth is coming up.”

“Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess I’m more anxious than anything. It’s the big one.”

“You’re going to have every twenty-four year old in the country on the edge of their seat waiting to find out if they’re the one.” Another joked. 

You laughed along. “Yeah, I guess it’s coming whether I want it to or not.”

You were near the end of the route, so it wasn’t long after that you were off the hook to walk around a bit, get something to eat.

Steve turned to you, trying to sound casual when he asked, “You don’t want your birthday to come?”

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “I’m not entirely set on the idea of pledging myself to some stranger for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not always a stranger.” Steve said. “Maybe you already know them.”

“That’s true. That would be…I mean, it would be better, sure, but…I’m pretty sure the only person I want it to be already has someone else.” You couldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, afraid of the answer, one way or the other, whether he finally said it outright, or if those pretty blue eyes said it for him.

You couldn’t handle the heartbreak.

“Wait—”

“(Y/N), we have time to hop on Pirates of the Caribbean.” Wanda said, swooping in to save you. She was really good at that. She took your hand and the two of you ran off in the direction of the ride.

Natasha walked up behind Steve, hand in hand with Bucky, who was nibbling on a churro. Obviously, they had heard the exchange.

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “Well, great.”

“What’s going on, soldier?” Natasha asked.

“She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out it’s me.” Steve said, voice small, as he watched you walk away. He waited for you to glance back at him. You didn’t.

“What are you talking about? Steve, she’s liked you for months. She listened to Songs for Sad Bitches when she thought she couldn’t have you.” Natasha reasoned. “Feelings like that don’t just go away.”

Bucky chimed, “Are we forgetting the night at the cabin?”

“That was three months ago.” Steve said, staring at his shoes. “I…I’ve been keeping it from her this entire time, hiding it from her, letting her feel like shit and stress herself out over it. I shouldn’t have gotten so close in the first place, but…I just can’t keep myself away from her. She looks at me with those eyes and I just…crumble.”

“I hear ya, pal.” Bucky said, patting his arm. “But you remember the look in her eyes at the bar that night? You remember the things she said to you? That (Y/N) is still a month away. She still has feelings for you. She still loves you, and she’s…she’s even excited to see the little guy.”

“She loved the little guy.” Steve agreed, smiling softly, remembering the look on your face when he’d found you, laying on his porch, the tenderness with which you’d whispered his name. In a world that constantly looked down on him, figuratively and literally, you were the first person aside from Bucky that made him feel loved, like he had something waiting for him.

Steve let out a long breath, nodding. Bucky was right. Back in the forties, he’d been the level-headed voice of reason, getting Steve out of the trouble his big mouth got him into. Even in the twenty-first century, he was still doing his damage control. In a way, he had missed it.

“Alright, now I know I missed some chapters.” Sam was on Steve’s other side, holding an ice cream sandwich, eyes wide. “When exactly were you going to tell me your soulmate is on the team?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprise?”

“Welcome to the inner circle, Sam. We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha joked, wearing a grin.

“I mean, it explains a hell of a lot. Here I was thinking she was like…the grandkid of one of your old war buddies or something.”

“That’s what I thought!” Natasha agreed. She and Bucky finally filled Sam in on everything he’d missed over the past several months.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to that couple, dressed as him and you. They were holding hands, walking down the pathway, laughing, talking. They stopped for a selfie together in front of the Avengers Campus sign, which inevitably devolved into a kiss.

And in his head, he replaced them with him and you, carefree and in love in the happiest place on earth.

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Maybe, if you lied very still, you could convince the universe no time was passing at all. You were staring at the ceiling, flat on your back, the weight of the world resting flat against your entire body. No, against your soul, weighing you down.

Tomorrow was your birthday and you were not ready. Not in the slightest.

You let out a loud groan, forcing yourself to get up, to get dressed. You chucked your pajamas in your hamper, throwing on some joggers and a t-shirt, the old Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. It was a simple one, black with stars scattered across the fabric, the yellow logo emblazoned across the front.

There was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You called, not turning around to see who it was. You put on your star necklace, the one Steve had given you almost an entire year before. You tucked it under the fabric of the shirt.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes searching.

“Not well.” You sighed, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t either when mine was coming. I swear I didn’t get any sleep for a week.” He said, eyes soft. “I, um, got breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Those breakfast sandwiches you like.”

Your lips curled into a tired smile. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course. Whatever you want today, just say the word.”

You crossed the room, walking right up to him and straight into his arms. He held you to him, read resting against yours. For a moment, he questioned if it had already happened, if he’d gotten the days mixed up.

If you already knew.

“I just need you to hold me.” You whispered, holding in tears. You should have been excited. It should have felt like Christmas Eve. You should have been absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day to come.

But you weren’t ready to let him go, for everything about your relationship to change. You needed more time.

“I can do that.” He said softly, thumbs etching circles into your shoulders. “As long as you need me to. I’ve got you. Always.”

“Okay.” You whispered, voice breaking. The tears finally slipping down your cheeks. It was all you could say to keep yourself from saying ‘I love you.’

You ate breakfast with the others. Natasha could tell you had been crying, so after, she took you, Wanda, Kate, and Yelena out of the house. It was a welcome distraction. The mall was the perfect spot. It always was. 

“What about this one?” Wanda held another dress against you, imagining you in it for your birthday party the following night. Steve had taken it upon himself to be the entire planning committee, which was why he was back at the Compound with the boys, getting things in order. The only thing he wanted to have to worry about tomorrow was the party itself.

“Does it come in blue?” You asked, eyeing up the rack she’d pulled it off of.

“It does.” She smiled, putting the red one back in exchange for blue. It was sparkling, form-fitting, a little less formal than the one you’d worn to your Avengers induction, but it had the same vibe, just shorter and with a deeper neckline.

“Perfect.” You said, turning towards the dressing room. You handed Wanda your purse and slipped into it. It fit perfectly in all the right places. You did a little turn in the mirror, satisfied, and then walked out into the store again, where Natasha was nodding in approval.

“Alright, dress acquired, where to next?” Kate asked, checking the list she was keeping on her phone.

“I heard there is a Lego store here.” Yelena said absentmindedly, glancing out the door. “We should go.”

“Is that where you got Steve’s Millennium Falcon?” Natasha asked.

“Steve has a Millennium Falcon???” Yelena asked, eyes wide. “I want one.”

“I got it online. It was on sale.”

“I didn’t know Steve liked Star Wars.” Kate noted as you walked back into the dressing room to change back into your Star Wars shirt, ironically enough.

“Loves it. He’s a big nerd. Bucky, too. Buck’s more of a fantasy nerd, though. He’s super into Lord of the Rings.” You could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice when she said it.

“Steve said it was the first thing he watched out of the ice. Star Wars, that is. I don’t know if he’s seen Lord of the Rings yet.” You added. “And he’s talked about going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Vintage nerd.”

“Nice.”

Once you’d paid for the dress, you moved on to the Lego Store, where Yelena just about ran to the Millennium Falcon set to see it for herself.

“Lego typewriter.” Natasha noted, pointed at it. “Speaking of vintage nerd.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d get a kick out of that.” You laughed. Depending on how things settled after your soulmate bomb dropped, maybe you’d come back and get it for him. At the very least, you were pretty sure you’d still be friends after it all. And friends built Lego sets together.

“Hey, wait, there are Legos of us?” Kate asked, eyeing up the display where Steve had, you assumed, gotten your matching keychains. “This is news to me.”

“Let me see.” Yelena walked over and gasped, eyes falling on her Lego self.

Wanda smiled softly, head tilting as she looked at you. She rested her hand on your shoulder.

“It will be fine. To quote someone I care about very deeply: whoever they are, they are lucky to have you. Now, let’s forget about it for a bit.”

“Alright.” You agreed, letting her lead you over to the Build-a-Figure station, where you started mixing and matching the pieces. It was hard, but you let your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

***

Meanwhile, Steve was walking around the Compound with a clipboard, making sure everything was ready for the next day. Scott and the ants were helping put up the decorations. He’d sent Sam and Bucky to pick up the cake, and Tony had taken it upon himself to take care of the catering. A peace offering of sorts.

Steve was putting together the playlist for the party himself, hand-picking songs you liked, recommendations from Nat and Wanda, songs from Taylor Swift’s discography, and then, finally, a special song he’d been saving. 

Steve liked to listen to his records in the privacy of his room, away from the ears of members of the team who would tease him for it. They were forties jazz mostly, made the place feel a little more like home, especially when you weren’t around. But there was a song that he would soon share with you, as soon as tomorrow came. He hesitated to add it, but eventually, he pressed his thumb to the song, adding it to the playlist.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment. The last song of the night before Val’s closed. It was one of the last times he had gone there.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…” The singer’s voice had floated across the room, words striking him to his core. He got chills, opening his eyes again. God, he couldn’t wait for you to know. Sure, he was a supersoldier, but he was pretty sure the weight of his secret was finally crushing him.

***

You retreated to your room when you and the girls got home. It was kind of late. You’d decided to catch a movie while you were out. You didn’t mind. You were beyond ready to go to sleep and just…get it over with.

Off with the Band-Aid.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked, finding Natasha and Kate in the dining room.

“She went to her room for the night.” Kate replied innocently.

“Alright.” He nodded. “How was she doing?”

“Not great.” Yelena said, already into the box of the Lego set she’d settled on. “I mean, she’s like fine. Just…kinda sad.”

“Quiet.” Wanda agreed. Vision had his arm around her.

“Okay, well…” Steve put his hands on his hips, thinking. What was the harm in telling them now? Warning the rest of them what they’d be waking up to tomorrow. “Vision, can you round up the others?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded. “To be clear, I am to leave out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone but (Y/N).” Steve confirmed, leading the others upstairs to one of the lounges. He sat on the couch, mouth resting against his hands, elbows on his knees. Tony sauntered in, followed by Bruce. The rest of the team filed in one by one, finding seats, staring at Steve, waiting for answers.

“So, um, thanks for coming everyone.” Steve said, meeting their eyes.

“Uh, Cap, we’re missing (Y/N).” Clint said, looking around.

“That’s the idea.” Natasha replied.

“Is this a party planning meeting? Do the decorations look okay? I really thought the ants did a good job.” Scott said.

“They did a great job.” Steve reassured him, taking a moment to collect his words. “So, as you all know, tomorrow is (Y/N)’s twenty-fifth birthday. And…I need to finally come clean. I’m her soulmate.”

“Okay, now that I did not know.” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Your long lost love is one of our housemates?”

“Tony.” Nat shot him a look.

“No, I’m serious. I’m just…I’m relieved is all.” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I…the reason I didn’t tell her is because I didn’t know if Illustrians…I didn’t know if she’d have one. I figured…” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I didn’t want to bring her down when it was so close.”

Steve took off the cuff on his wrist, finally finally showing him the mark that had been there since his twenty-fifth birthday in 1943. Your name, written in your neat, careful handwriting, first, middle, and last.

“Why not tell her, then?” Kate asked. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“That’s a little more complicated.” Steve thought. “When I turned twenty-five…she was there. In a few hours, when she goes to sleep, she’s headed to the forties to see…well, me, before the serum. I don’t know how or why, but…when she got there, she didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk changing anything. Butterfly effect and all that.”

“Time travel?” Bruce asked, eyes bugging out of his head. “You are just casually telling us that time travel exists.”

“I guess so.”

“Woah. Bruce. We’ve got some tests to run.” Tony said.

“Oh I am already taking notes in my head.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the team gave him supportive words and smiles, but Tony’s were the most poignant. 

“I don’t know what you’re still doing here, Rogers. Go see her off.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

***

You closed the door after Steve left, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall, steady and even. You let another tear roll down your cheek. All of the crying was exhausting. You just wanted to be done with it.

You sat on the bed, taking off your bra and chucking it across the room, laying back to relax and, hopefully, get some sleep.

The exhaustion must have been helping, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the drifting start. It was strong and immediate, pulling you down through the mattress. You felt like you were floating and falling at the same time, limbs tingling. Your eyes shot open when you realized what was happening, but it was already too late.

And then everything went white.

Right Where You Left Me

In 1943, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate down the sidewalk, through Steve’s favorite park. It happened to be a shortcut between his favorite diner and the local theater. He liked to sit there sometimes, sketch couples walking by. Never had he imagined he’d be one of the couples someday.

For the past week, he’d about worried himself sick. He’d barely slept, he’d had no appetite, he’d had the worst art block of his life. Every time he fell asleep, he had dreams of finding his soulmate, only for them to be some pretty but shallow girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. He had nightmares of a grayed out mark like Bucky’s, or worse, no mark at all. Which is why when he’d run out that morning to get the mail, he hadn’t even checked yet.

Part of him didn’t want to.

And then he’d found you out there, laying under the mailbox.

And now, he was holding your hand. 

You caught his eyes, grinning. He smiled back, heart racing. Gosh, maybe he needed to sit down.

“Hey, could we sit for a minute?” He asked, motioning to the bench beside the path and trying his best not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, following him and sitting down beside him, hand still clasped tight in yours. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“What’s an inhaler?”

“Shit, right, they probably haven’t been invented yet…” You murmured, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You…know about the asthma.” He realized.

You nodded. “I know about all of it, Steve.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And you’re still looking at me with those eyes?”

“What eyes?” You tilted your head, innocent. “There’s no one else I’d rather be looking at, Steve. Just you.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not real.”

“Am I gonna have to spend all day convincing you I am?”

“You just might.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a reddish mark there. “Oops. Sorry, let me—”

Steve grabbed your hand, stopping you from wiping it away. “Leave it. Bucky comes home covered in ‘em all the time. I’ve never gotten one before.”

“I am going to cover you in lipstick marks by the end of today.”

He grinned, finally standing up to keep moving. “Is that a promise?”

***

It was nearing the end of the night. Steve could feel his time with you was nearly spent. So he led you by the hand to the stairs at the back of the bar, the ones that led up to the roof. He’d found himself up there alone on quite a few nights, when the double dates Bucky set up inevitably crumbled.

It was a beautiful night, clear. The stars were out in force, dotting the sky in perfect constellations. In the distance, fireworks boomed. It was one thing he’d always loved about his birthday.

“Wow, this is great.” You murmured, looking out at the city. It was like you were living in a photograph, the old buildings looming in the skyline, vintage cars driving down the street.

“My favorite spot.” He explained, walking over to the railing.

“I can see why.” You let out a sigh, gripping his hand tighter, fingers laced with his. You turned towards him, looking at the smattering of kiss marks on his cheeks. You’d kept true to your word.

Steve twirled you around, pulling you closer, a soft, romantic smile on his face. “God, you are so beautiful.”

“Let me show you something.” You told him, drawing his eyes to your hand where you made a tiny, gentle forcefield, its blue light shining across his features.

“What…is that?” He asked, staring at the orb. “Is that how you got here? Where were you keeping it?”

You curled your fingers, letting the bubble fizzle away. “It’s not a thing. It’s part of me. Something I’ve been able to do since college. There are a lot of people like me where I’m from, people with gifts. Steve…after I leave, your life is about to get a lot weirder than time travel and forcefields. I can’t tell you how or why, but…”

“I appreciate the heads-up.” He assured you, smiling. “And I love you, too. I didn’t say it down there, and I know I just met you this morning, but…I…I love you so much, doll. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You, Steve Rogers, are going to do amazing things.” You whispered, taking his hand again.

“Says the girl with superpowers.”

“I’m serious.” You told him. “I grew up hearing stories about you. I wanted to be just like you. Brave beyond words, fiercely loyal. I guess it only makes sense that we share a soul.”

Steve grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, lips dancing against your own, heart racing, knees wobbling like Jell-O. He rested his nose against yours, breathing shallow.

“Careful, there. Don’t let me take your breath away.”

He shook his head, kissing you one last time before murmuring, “Oh doll, I could do this all day.” He glanced back towards the door, music from downstairs faint. He took your hand. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think they’re playing the last song.”

You smirked, following him. “I thought you had two left feet.”

He shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

***

After you’d disappeared, Steve felt hollow, walking slowly back into the house. Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, absently reading the paper. He met Steve’s eyes when he heard his trudging footsteps.

“She left you something.” Bucky chucked the bundle of fabric at him and Steve caught it, holding it out in front of him.

Your Star Wars shirt. Shit. He hoped you didn’t need it for anything. “Uh oh.”

“Might fit you.” Bucky chuckled. “Obviously you can’t wear it out, but…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, eyes sparkling with tears. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of your perfume like it was oxygen. “God, I miss her.”

“I know, pal. It’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will be.” Bucky’s eyes fell to the grayed out mark on his own wrist, so faint it was barely legible. “You just gotta take it one day at the time.”

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Your veins were on fire. The blinding white shimmered, giving way to…your ceiling. You were laying on your bed again, sunlight streaming through the window.

You blinked a few times, feeling flowing back into your limbs slowly. Your heart raced. You sat up, staring at your hands. Soon enough, your eyes found your wrist. The letters were still there, spelling out the name of your soulmate.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“Oh my god.” You looked up and met your reflection’s eyes, your hair still set in elegant 40s waves. Your pajamas were gone, replaced with the blue dress. Your lips were a deep shade of red, the same shade you’d left all over Steve’s face last night. A different Steve in a different time.

You let out a breath, standing up and walking towards the door, your new-vintage forties heels clicking with every step. You marched straight out to the kitchen, where Steve was sitting at the table, fiddling with his cuff. He was sitting across the table from Bucky and Natasha, whose eyes tried to warn Steve that you were approaching behind him.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Um, how’d you sleep?” He asked, eyes widening when he saw the way you were dressed. His first love, in the flesh, just the way he remembered her.

“I didn’t.” You replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the room, snatching up the folding footstool leaned on the end counter as you passed.

“Good luck, pal.” Bucky laughed.

You just about kicked open the door of the conference room, skirt swishing as you did. You closed the door behind you, locking it with a click.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but—”

You unfolded the stool, getting up on top of it and pushing him against the wall. You crushed your lips against his, hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. He moaned into your mouth, frozen for a moment until the rest of him got the hint. His eyes fluttered shut, strong arms wrapped around your waist, head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Your grip on his shirt weakened, arms looping behind his neck, holding him close as his lips left yours. He rested his forehead against yours, breaths ragged. He laughed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tint of his cheeks.

“Not quite where I thought this conversation was gonna go.” He murmured against you, pressing kisses up your neck.

You reached for his left hand, fingers lingering against the strip of leather that was still hiding your name.

“You can take it off.” He told you, eyes sparkling. “It’s about time.”

Carefully, you undid the metal bit holding it in place and peeled it back, revealing your name etched there onto his skin, your handwriting unmistakable. You choked on a sob, tears slipping down your face.

“The whole time?” You asked, grabbing onto his hand with both of yours. “You knew the whole time?”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, eyes falling to the hand you were holding. “I…You didn’t know when I met you. I didn’t want to risk…changing anything.” I didn’t want to risk losing you.

“I can’t believe…Here I thought I was your rebound.” You laughed, sniffling through your tears of relief. “I thought you were falling in love with me and I would be the asshole for getting a soulmate and breaking your heart. And it was me the whole time.”

“That’s why you were worried we wouldn’t be friends?” He asked softly.

You nodded, more tears falling when you remembered the way you’d felt day before.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He shook his head, wiping your tears away. “Honestly…I’m really glad we got to be friends first. Most soulmates don’t get that. It made me appreciate every moment with you even more. It was weird and hard, but…loving you was easy. Always has been. It was not telling you that was crushing me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner…” You said, shaking your head. “All of those little moments…the reading chair, the Hunger Games marathon, the cabin…” Your heart ached remembering the night in the cabin. 

You remembered him sleeping against the wall in the infirmary after you’d been knocked unconscious, unwilling and unable to leave you alone when you were hurt. You remembered the bewildered look in his eyes when he thought you were dressed up for a date instead of Wanda’s birthday outing. The argument about whether or not you should go on the Red Room mission, when he was more worried about your safety than anything else, broken over the idea of something happening to you when he wasn’t there to help. The Lego set you’d spent hours building together, his hands so careful, fingers brushing against yours every so often. The mission in the Amazon, when the only thing he could think about while pseudo-drunk was you.

It was always you. It had always been you. 

“Steve…”

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked quietly, watching you, searching your eyes for some flicker of disappointment. “It’s okay if you need time. I’d understand. It’s…well, it’s a lot to process.”

“I just…” You sighed, squeezing his hand. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it.” He said. He raised your hand, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. “I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I always have.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, earning that handsome smile he was so famous for. You couldn’t help but admire him, your supersoldier, the man that time had saved specifically for you. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”

You looked down at your new dress, realizing for the first time what it meant that you were still wearing it. You’d left your other clothes behind.

“Right. Before I forget.” Steve said, presenting a tattered, faded wad of fabric that had once been a shirt. “You left this at my place.”

You unfurled the fabric to find your missing Star Wars shirt, or what was left of it. You stared at it, dumbfounded. “You’ve had this the whole time?!”

“Took it everywhere with me.” He admitted. “Storming Hydra bases in Europe, Battle of New York, Sokovia, everywhere. I used to wear it, back when I was…you know, but it didn’t fit after my growth spurt. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you in better shape.”

“This is why you like Star Wars.” You realized, staring at it and looking back up at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head. You handed it back to him. “I think you need this more than I do, Steve. You can hold onto it for me if you want.”

He smiled, eyes soft. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course. I know it’s safe in your hands.”

Your shirt wasn’t the only thing that was safe in his hands. You were pretty sure, finally, that your heart was, too.

You stepped down from your footstool. Steve watched with an amused smile, chuckling.

“We had less of a height difference last night.” You reminded him, folding up the stool.

“I remember.” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles with care. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much, doll. Which is silly because you’ve been here, but…”

“I get it.” You reassured him, dropping his hands and wrapping your arms around him instead. 

He hugged you to his chest, resting his head against yours and letting out a long breath. You could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time.

***

Before you changed out of your forties look, Wanda insisted on a little photoshoot, which you were grateful for. Looking back, it would be fun to have pictures, even just as more proof that it had actually happened. Steve obviously sat in on some of the photos.

You asked some questions, of course, such as “who all knew?” The answer was everyone, but not until the night before when he’d finally come clean to the team. Before that, it had just been Bucky and Nat, and more recently, Sam.

Wanda claimed she had felt something, but never pried. Anyone could see it, though. Anyone with eyeballs. The way he looked at you had always been with love.

You changed into your dress for the party, necklace on display between your collarbones. You touched up your makeup a little bit, but left it. Bucky’s vintage lady friend had done a good job.

Tony showed up about an hour before the party was supposed to start, instructing the caterers. He stopped in his tracks, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. “Rogers tell you my side of the story?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Kind of. In your own way.”

“And I am sorry, for the record. Maybe there would have been a way to bring it up without…you know.” Tony shrugged. “Happy birthday, kid. I’m glad it all worked out for you and the old-timer.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got in touch with your parents. You were right. They’re off-planet. But I have their contact info if you want to…”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Thank you, Tony.”

“Of course. I’ll get that all squared away.”

Steve walked up to you as Tony walked away, eyes landing on the necklace there. You realized, as he stared at it, that you’d been wearing it the night before. You hadn’t taken it off before bed.

“Is that what you meant when you said you had help picking it out?” You realized, putting the pieces together. “I thought you meant Natasha or something.”

“No, I uh…” He grinned, nodding. “I got a good look at it that night. You never said who gave it to you, but I figured it may as well be me.”

Steve was wearing a blue button-up, his nice black slacks that did everything for his legs. He’d shaved, combed his hair all neat. His hand settled on the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You stood on your toes, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss, lips melting against his. You felt his warm hand settle on your jaw, tilting your head just so. He smelled good, like his woodsy mahogany cologne. His breath was fresh, spearmint. And his lips were soft, confident but gentle.

His nose nuzzled yours, breath warm as it fanned across your cheeks. He met your eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you against him again. Now that he could touch you freely, he just couldn’t get enough.

“Bout time.” Bucky chuckled, walking into the room, Natasha’s hand in his. She looked great, wearing a nice red dress. “How are you two doing?”

“Great, Buck.” Steve replied, still not letting you go as he swayed. “I’m doin’ great. How are you, birthday girl?”

“It’s the best one I’ve had so far.” You said, echoing his words when you’d asked him the same question. You kissed him again, lips finding his easily.

He smiled, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Same here.” You told him. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school. Imagine how I feel.”

“Middle school???” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah, why do you think I was crying at Air and Space Museum?”

“I was still in the ice!”

“Middle school girl crushes know no bounds, Captain Rogers.” Kate said, her and Yelena walking into the room next, more or less matching in their black dresses and purple and red accents. “I had plenty of crushes on old dead guys when I was in middle school. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken.”

The party guests arrived in waves. The remainder of the team came, along with the extended family: Maria Hill, Jane Foster and her intern Darcy. A handful of your college friends came, buzzing about the prospect of being at the Avengers Compound, as well as the fact that you were an Avenger now, since most of them hadn’t seen you since that change had occurred.

You greeted them all as they came in, smiling and laughing and joking around like you did during the good old days. You introduced them to your new friends, your team. The playlist Steve had agonized over set the perfect tone. Some songs were upbeat and danceable, some were chill and slow, giving the couples in the room the chance to pair off and dance together.

During one of such songs, Steve offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Like old times…” You murmured, hand sliding into his as he led you out onto the makeshift dancefloor.

Steve faced you, strong hand settling on your waist, the other still wrapped around yours. There was only one song it could be, of course. His favorite of the songs you had shown him thus far. He spun you around, face hovering just behind your ear, where he pressed a tender kiss before spinning you back around to face him.

“Even if we’d met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war…”

“You still would have been mine, we would have been timeless…” You sang softly, meeting his eyes, the smile on your face matching his own. It was like Taylor had plucked the lyrics from your very heart.

“I think we kind of are.” He said, head nuzzled to yours, still swaying along to the song.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied.

When the song was over, Steve leaned in and asked, “Can I give you your presents now?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

He led you out of the room and down the hall to one of the conference rooms, where he’d stashed them earlier. There were four things waiting there. A medium box, a tiny box, and two easels covered with sheets.

He turned a chair around and motioned for you to sit, so you did. He handed you the bigger box first, and the infamous clinking sound gave it away before you could even get the wrapping paper off.

“Oh I think I know what this is.”

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know if you had this one or not. I kept the receipt just in case…”

You tore the paper off to reveal a Lego set. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “I don’t have this one yet. And I cannot wait to build it with you.”

“That makes two of us, doll.” He kissed your cheek, handing you the next present, the smaller one.

You tore the paper off to reveal a small velvet box. You gently lifted the lid and inside, there was a set of star earrings and a simple silver band. An eternity band, if you weren’t mistaken. Not an engagement ring, but it was a common gift for soulmates to give once they found each other, especially after they’d spent some time together.

“Oh, Steve…” You murmured, tears in your eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

“Can I?” He asked, kneeling down beside you and reaching for the ring.

“Yeah, of course.” You held out your hand and let him slide the band onto your finger. How he’d gotten your size, you didn’t know, but it fit perfectly.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since 1943.” He confessed, hands lingering around your own.

“It’s still so crazy to me.” You sighed, shaking your head. You met his eyes. “You were in love with me before I even existed, before my parents were even born.”

“I know.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, another to the corner of your lips. “When I woke up after the ice, I…I was lonely for a while. I spent a lot of days alone, learning, trying to figure out the new world I’d found myself in. I was kind of bitter. I didn’t know why it had happened to me…until I found you in the mall that day. And then I knew it wasn’t some accident. What happened to me was fate. You’re my destiny. Everything that happened led me straight to you and it was all worth it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his.

“Doing what?”

You leaned your forehead against his, whispering, “Making me fall more in love with you.”

“No promises.” He laughed, kissing your lips and pulling you to your feet. “On my twenty-fifth, you said you didn’t know I was an artist and I promised I’d show you sometime.”

He pulled the sheet off of the first painting. It was you, glowing a brilliant blue, streaks of energy emanating from you like you were a star. Your eyes glowed, hair blew in the breeze. Behind you was a bright waypoint and zipping through the air was his shield, all of it captured in breathtaking oil painting. You wondered how long it had taken.

“This is so beautiful, Steve.” You rested your head against him, arm wrapped around his waist. “You made me look like a freaking goddess.”

“Well now you know how I see you.” He reached for the sheet covering the second painting, a little more careful with this one due to the age of it alone. “You might recognize this one.”

It was the painting from the antique shop, the soulmates dancing in Val’s. Now, with your new knowledge, you recognized them immediately. It was you and Steve. Always had been. Tears slipped down your cheeks and your hand covered your mouth, muffling your sobs. There was a time when you were afraid no one would ever love you as much as the blond-haired man loved the girl he was dancing with and it had been you all along.

But that little blond guy had painted it for you, not knowing whether or not you would ever get to see it.

You turned to Steve, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, head resting against his strong frame as you cried.

“I never stopped looking. Never.” Steve said, voice getting emotional. “Every base I went to, I met every nurse. At every coffee shop, I studied every college student in case you were there doing homework. Every time I went to the theater, I was scanning faces for yours. It became habit, looking for you. I…”

“You found me.” You said, pulling away to see his face. You brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb. “You found me, Steve.”

He surged forward, kissing you deeply, with a century of passion behind his lips. Your hand wandered into his soft blond hair, the other settling against his firm chest. His hands caressed your body, memorizing every curve and dip, lips chasing yours through every slight movement. And after, he pressed a dozen kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You giggled, finally catching his lips again.

Your breaths were heavy when he finally pulled away; his, too. You straightened out the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him back down for one last kiss. Then another. Then, really, one last one.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Now, then, and always.”

“Now, then, and always.” He murmured, kissing you again.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up before returning to the rest of the party. You blew out your candles and made your wish, for an eternity side by side with him, that wherever life took the two of you, it took you there together.

You had a slice of cake and some ice cream, sitting on the couch next to Steve, legs draped over his. He used his thumb to dab a little frosting onto the tip of your nose. You smeared frosting across his cheek with yours, which made him laugh.

After, there was one last song before most of the guests would be headed home for the night. As soon as the instrumental kicked in, you got emotional. It had been your last song with Steve the night before, a song that had been written about those going off to war, their futures as uncertain as the stars were numerous.

For Steve, it held a different meaning. He’d known then that his time with you was running out. He had no idea when he’d see you again, just that it would be a long time and that the version of you he met wouldn’t even know him yet, that it might be years before he got to kiss you again.

And so, the two of you danced as you had the night before, on Steve’s twenty-fifth and on yours, your face tucked against his, his arms wrapped tight around you as you swayed gently to the music.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”

Tags: @cap-lu20

[chvoswxtch]

hi court!!!! I devoured your frank castle fics, you just capture him so fucking perfectly!!! soooo, i’m usually pretty extroverted and outspoken and I feel like I see a lot of frank x shy reader. I was wondering if you were interested in potentially writing this request: frank and a pretty confident and extroverted reader (on the shorter and curvier side bc I’m self indulgent) who maybe feels a bit insecure because of a lack of romantic partners and whatnot and maybe they’re friends and something happens and frank just wants to show her how attractive he really finds her…

maybe this sparks some inspiration? i would love to read it, but either way I am obsessed with anything frank or matt you write!!!

ps: thank u for the follow now we’re moots and i’m so fucking excited!! xxx sending so much love your way

hi angel baby d!!!

first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words. i'm also so fucking excited to be moots now!!! as a short curvy girl myself, I happily self indulged on this with you. thank you so much for the request, angel. I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be spicy or not, so I left it open ended. but if you want a spicy follow up, i'd be more than happy to write it. ;) please enjoy this valentine's treat from me to you, love. ❤️

I know y'all didn't think I was gonna leave out my frankie girlies on valentine's day. everyone say thank you @neverlandcity. ❤️

warning: swearing (bc frankie), mentions of alcohol, & allusions to spiciness. word count: 1.7k

[part two]

pretty.

From the moment he met you, Frank hadn’t been able to shut you up. He always knew exactly what was on your mind because you had no problem speaking it. For someone so small, you sure as hell had the confidence of someone his size, and the attitude to match. He was certain it looked comical every time he had to haul you out of a bar over his shoulder when you tried to pick a fight with some asshole three times your size. Other times though, he just sat back and watched with a grin. After all, sometimes those shitheads earned it.

If there was one person in this entire world Frank was scared to death to piss off, it was you. But, he got lucky in that your patience with him seemed to be limitless. As much as he had tried to keep you at arms length when you two first met, you weren’t having any of that shit, and very quickly had won him over. You very easily became one of his favorite people, and overtime he eventually got used to keeping up with you. 

But tonight, you were quiet. 

Frank couldn’t think of a time since he’d met you that you had ever been quiet. There was the one time you lost your voice from having a cold, but that didn’t stop you from furiously going through two entire notepads in a three day span. He thought he’d enjoy the silence, but honestly he had gotten so used to your voice that it was unnerving not being able to hear it. There was an immense sense of relief he felt once you could talk again, even if you did sound like you smoked forty packs a day for a while. 

You hadn’t said more than ten words since you showed up at Frank’s door thirty minutes ago with a full bottle of tequila that was steadily being depleted. He cocked his head to the side as he studied you, noting the intense look of concentration on your features as you sliced up another lime in perfectly proportionate wedges. 

“Did someone die?”

You immediately paused, whipping your head around to face him as your brows knit together in the center of your forehead in clear confusion.

“What?”

“Just wonderin’ if someone died.”

“Uh…not that I know of?”

“Then what the hell you bein’ so quiet for?”

“What are you talking about?”

Frank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes slightly as he studied your face.

“You’ve barely said a full goddamn sentence since you walked through that door, and you’re cuttin’ up that lime like you’re performin’ fuckin’ open heart surgery. Not to mention, that bottle was full thirty minutes ago.”

A scoff sounded from your lips as you squeezed the juice of one of the lime wedges into your glass and shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah well, someone is a heavy handed bartender and likes their drinks strong.”

“You’re the one makin’ the drinks, sweetheart.”

Frank arched one of his brows with a smirk as you glared at him. Your lips parted as you went to retort, glancing between both of your glasses and the assembly line that you currently had going. You shook your head as you went back to fixing yourself another drink and flipped him off over your shoulder.

“Shut up.”

Frank rolled his eyes as he rubbed his palms down his face, eyeing you as you sat back down at the table across from him and sipped on your drink.

“Jesus, normally I can’t get you to shut the hell up and now I can’t get ya to talk to me? The hell’s that about?”

He could tell he was testing your patience by the way you narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips in displeased line.

“No one died, Frank.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

An exasperated groan left your lips as you set your glass on the table with a heavy thud, crossing your arms over your chest as you rolled your eyes.

“I had a shitty date last night and I wanted to drink about it. There. Will you quit being a dick now?”

Frank tensed up at the mention of the word date. 

Who the fuck did you go on a date with? Why didn’t you tell him? Since when were you dating? Wait…did you say-

“That bad?”

Your eyes instantly locked with Frank’s, and the emotion swirling around in them had him softening. You swallowed thickly and put your armor back up, rolling your eyes as you laughed dryly and downed another sip of your drink.

“I’ve had worse.”

As much as Frank didn’t wanna hear about you going on a date with some asshole, he did have a lot of questions.

“He uh…do somethin’?”

The nonchalance he had attempted had clearly failed by the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Nothing that warrants you going all “Punisher” on him.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared at you, tensing his jaw as his fingers twitched in his lap.

Anyone even fuckin’ lookin’ at you the wrong way would warrant that.

The smirk on your lips quickly fell when you noticed Frank was seriously considering the validity of your words. You let out a deep exhale as you stared down into your glass, swirling the contents around slowly.

“Just…not his type I guess.”

“The hell’s that s’posed to mean? He say that?”

You held your hand up as Frank sat up a little straighter in his seat, shaking your head as you chuckled dryly to yourself.

“He didn’t have to.”

Frank’s face fell at the dejection in your tone, but he was impossibly confused. There was a layer of scarlet starting to burn on your cheeks, and you prayed Frank would think it was from the tequila and not from the embarrassing truth. 

“I…I’m just…not what he wanted, and that’s fine, you know? I just wish I would’ve stalked his social media before the date, because then I would’ve known better than to go. I mean…all his exes were these like super tall, thin, bombshell supermodel types, and that’s just…not me.”

There was a rage flowing through Frank’s veins that he hadn’t felt in a long time. As much as you were trying to play it off, he knew you were upset. He could see the way your eyes glimmered as you gazed down into your glass. 

“Whatever. He was boring anyway.”

“He sounds like a bitch.”

A loud laugh slipped past your lips as you spit out your drink, covering your mouth as you stared at him incredulously and tried to speak through your giggles.

“God Frankie, tell me how you really feel.”

No one had called him Frankie since Russo, and the first time you had, he froze. He hadn’t expected to like the way it sounded coming from your lips so much. He tried to pretend like it annoyed him every time you called him that, but he secretly loved it. It was something that now belonged only to you. He’d never let anyone else use it.

Frank shook his head as he finished off his own drink, setting the glass down on the table a little harder than he had to as he scoffed.

“Fuckin’ idiot was probably intimidated.”

“Intimidated? Frank, I can’t reach the top of my fridge without a step stool.”

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout your height, smartass. I meant by you.”

There was an edge to Frank’s voice that stunned you quiet and had your giggles immediately disappearing. He seemed genuinely pissed off about something, and there was a flame flickering dangerously in his eyes. He stared at you quietly for a moment, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts. Shaking his head slowly, a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re smart, I mean really fuckin’ smart. Sometimes too smart for your own damn good. You’re funny, and you ain’t even gotta try to be. You got the biggest goddamn heart out of anybody I ever met. I know you talk a big game and you’re ‘bout five feet and some change of pure sass, but you give a shit, ya’know? I mean you care ‘bout people, always goin’ out of your way for everyone and shit. I mean hell, you intimidate the shit out of me, and I’m a man. I can only imagine how much you terrified that little boy.”

Your mouth hung open as you processed Frank’s words. There was so much venom in that last sentence alone that you were nearly speechless. 

“I…you’re…contractually obligated to say that.”

“The hell I am.”

“Frank-”

“A boy wants a girl, sweetheart. But a man…a man wants a woman, yeah? And you, darlin’, are all woman.”

You’d be a fucking liar if you said you didn’t find Frank attractive. But you certainly never thought he would ever see you that way. You thought he tolerated you at best considering you practically forced your friendship on him. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol simmering in your veins or his words buzzing in your ears, but there was something about the way he was looking at you right now that had warmth spreading throughout your lower half.

“I do.”

“What?”

Frank chuckled as a wolfish grin spread over his lips, nodding his head in your direction.

“You asked if I thought you were pretty.”

Your eyes doubled in size as your lips parted, blinking a few times to try and clear the drunken haziness that had started to cloud your judgment.

“Oh God…did I say that out loud? I don’t even-wait, what? You…you think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly as he let his eyes wander shamelessly over your body, clearly pleased with your reaction to his confession. He used his boot to kick his chair away from the table a bit so that he could spread his legs out as he faced you directly. He gently patted his thigh with one of his large hands as he stared at you with a smirk spreading over his mouth.

“Now, why don’t you c’mere and let me show you just how pretty I think you are, sweetheart.”

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 11 - The Poker Game)

5.9K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din hosts a poker game and invites you and your friends; the meeting of friends prompts a discussion about the status of your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk and teasing, mentions of infidelity (not Din), reader gets in her own head a bit (some anxiety), pet names as usual (Pretty bird, pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, etc.), reader is described as shorter than Din and Din can pick her up.

A/N: Please kindly suspend your disbelief and allow me to write Poe Dameron as Boba Fett’s son 😂😂😂 Like, when I thought of a roguish, charming, sh*t disturber son of a mob boss, Oscar Isaac’s delicious face just came to mind 🤷🏻‍♀️ I'm going to level with you, I wasn't a big fan of Poe in the Sequel trilogy - too much fly boy/fuck boi energy for me, and that's kind of how I'm writing him here. I'm sorry, Poe-lovers, please don't come after me! (For the record, I *am* a big fan of OI!)

I ran a poll on WIP Wednesday asking asking if there was a preference to separate the smut at the end this chapter into its own post. I told myself that if even one person answered that they wanted it separate, then I would do that; it's easy enough to click on the link at the end of the chapter to take you to the smut if you so choose! I hope no one is disappointed that the storyline is moving in the direction where smut will be a regular addition to the chapters - but if that's not your bag, I totally understand! I'm sorry if you need to go and am so thankful that you've read along to this point 😘😘😘

Series Masterlist

In the following weeks, you and Din fall into a comfortable rhythm and easily slot each other into your busy lives.

Your nightly dog walks resume and on most week nights Din tries to stay at your apartment, with you working late more often than not and it being closer to your office.  He’s becoming a familiar face to your work colleagues, bringing you (and often them as well) dinner as an easy and welcomed excuse to see you.  Some days he’ll just join you for a lunch trip to your favourite sandwich shop and the two of you will have a quick picnic outside your office building if the weather is warm enough.  Weekends are for long, lazy dates that span the entire day, rolling into romantic dinners that have you and Din eating your way across the city.  It’s so easy being with Din; the conversation never stops, the sex is brain meltingly good, and he never ceases to make you feel adored.  If anyone were to ask, you were the smartest, funniest, most beautiful woman on this planet and Din would readily unretire his boxing gloves if anyone dared to disagree.  Every moment with Din makes you giddy; not only is this bear of a man actually a secret softie, he’s also goofy and funny, and lucky for you, his new favourite pastime is to make you laugh.  

One night over dinner, you mention in passing that you love the arm waving tube men outside of used car dealerships (actually, you don’t know what they’re called, so you did a sort of arm flail with both your arms above your head and Din almost died laughing).  The following Saturday, you arrive at the gym in the afternoon to find that Din has rented two tube men and they’re bending, blowing this way and that, arms flying and rippling from the force of the air being blown from the fan units in their base.  You join a large group of onlookers in front of the gym, mostly children, laughing and watching with amusement as the silly attention-grabbing gimmick brings you pure unadulterated joy for a good 10 minutes.  After going in, you find Din folding some towels next to the boxing ring and you launch yourself at him directly, too full of laughter and delight to care who sees.  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you murmur against his lips, unable to stop smiling.  Din picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, not caring who sees either; he wants everyone at the gym to know whose girl you are.  Feeling your big smile against his mouth before seeing it, he grins, “You’re welcome, pretty bird.” 

“Are they a permanent feature?”

“Unfortunately, no.  Just for the weekend, then I have to give them back to the used car lot down the street, Watto’s.  Plus, people keep coming in asking if we’re having a special on memberships today,” he says with a groan.

Giggling, you slide down Din’s body and give him a long, deep kiss, one that will guarantee a fair bit of ribbing from the guys, before heading up to Din’s apartment via the gym’s second floor entrance.  Most of these indulgent weekends start at Din’s so he can stay close to work – you take to baking in Din’s apartment and bringing down treats for the patrons, which are generally very well received.  When you brought down ginger molasses cookies, Greef had jokingly scolded you saying his boxers shouldn’t have too many sweet treats as part of their training, before scarfing down two cookies, then swatting Jimmy’s hand away from the plate and pocketing three more.  You’re sure your offering the following weekend of high fibre raisin bran muffins were better for training regimens, but the enthusiasm for them seemed lower. 

Din’s place, the apartment and the gym as an extension, starts to feel more and more comfortable; a small collection of your things (books, toiletries) have migrated to his apartment, and you love that the familiar faces at Mando’s are starting to fold into your life as well.

The only small twinge of regret you have is that with all the time you're spending with Din, especially the time spent at his place, you’re not spending as much time with Al.  He’s more than welcomed at Din’s but you hadn’t wanted to uproot him too much, or impose too much on Din too quickly, so on the weekends Bea’s been coming by to walk Al and take care of him.  You miss your special guy, your long weekend walks and dog park events; as you cut the butter into your shortbread cookie dough in Din’s kitchen, you decide that you have to make more of an effort to make sure Al isn’t left out.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything, pretty bird.”

“Do you think you might be able to hang out with Al tomorrow night?  I feel like he’s feeling a little neglected, and I don’t want to leave him alone.  I’d take him to Rory’s but her building has a weird no pets rule,” you pout a little as you scratch Al’s head with one hand while holding the phone to your ear with your other.

Without hesitation, Din agrees, “Sure, baby.  I’d love to have him over during poker night.  Guarantee he won’t feel lonely.”

“I’ll make some food for your poker night as a thank you!  And I’ll bring a dog bed too.  God knows I have a few to spare,” you chuckle as you scan your apartment to pick a bed to bring.

“No need, pretty bird.  I bought Al a dog bed for here already.”

“Of course you did,” you smile to yourself.  Thoughtful, thoughtful man.

And that’s how you find yourself with two big bags of food, an overnight bag each for yourself and a dog, and said dog in tow, looking up at the long flight of stairs leading up to Din’s apartment.  Luckily, you don’t have to wait very long before his thundering steps are heard and he comes to help you carry everything.  Once on the top landing, Din gingerly places everything on the ground before pulling you in close for the greeting you deserve.

“So… I’ve been thinking…” Din starts, almost shy, “Do you think your friends might like to come over and hang out here?  It won’t be a ‘girls’ night’ but there’s food and drinks and it might be fun for our friends to meet? …I mean, if you think it’s a good idea?”

Grinning at Din’s suggestion, you think outloud, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea… I’ll check with Rory and Bea, but what brought this on?”

Din answers by burying his face into your neck and nibbling on your earlobe, “Just like being with you, pretty bird.”

You relent easily, “Ok, but I’m warning you right now about playing with Rory, she’s going to take you all to the cleaner’s.”

“Good.  It’s been boring being the only one who wins money,” laughs Paz, who has suddenly appeared.  Giving Din a pointed look, “Hey, you know, the gentlemanly thing is to help the lady carry her bags inside,” before giving you a big bear side hug and greeting you with his new nickname for you (“Hey, Lil’ Lady.”) He picks up the food bags and heads in, passing Bo who’s on her way onto the landing to say hi.  For one reason or another, you haven’t seen her since Jimmy’s fight night; after a big hug, she looks at you with seriousness, “Thank god you’re back.  This one,” she jabs a thumb at Din, “was an unbearable grump while you were apart.  Please never leave us again.” She takes Al’s leash from you, and leads him inside the apartment; a second later you hear a raucous cheer of “Alfredo!!” followed by Al’s happy barks.

After setting out the food you brought (caprese sandwiches, sugar dusted mascarpone-blueberry turnovers, bruschetta) and putting what needs to be warmed in the oven (garlic knots, salmon-onion dip, turkey meatball pops), you text the girls and receive an enthusiastic response to the suggested change of plans.

Sitting on Din’s lap to give him the good news, you pass around the sandwiches to the delight of the players already seated at the big card table Din set out for the occasion.  You’re excited that the Mandos that are here tonight will get to meet some of your friends and you tell them so.

“Looking forward to it!  And… you get to meet Poe tonight,” says Koska, with an almost apologetic look.

“Who’s Poe?” you ask, curiously looking around at the facial expressions of the Mandos, ranging from eye rolling to what can only be described as shit eating grins.

Din explains, “He’s Boba’s son.”

“And you guys… like him?”

“We have to,” quips Paz, which is met with laughter from the group, “but we also do for real.  He’s just… a lot.”

Mayfeld chimes in, “He’s all about having good time; always trying to up the ante cause he’s got ‘My dad’s a big deal’ energy and always has.  Used to start shit for fun when we were in school cause he knew no one could do anything to him.”

“I remember it more like he would start trouble with that smart mouth of his, then one of us would have to finish it.”  Paz looks at you, “Used to be me and Din standing between him and a bloody nose, every damn time.”

Din appears to be a bit more forgiving of the past, “He’s calmed down a bit now… still has the smart mouth and a lot of energy, but blows off steam in more constructive ways… like poker instead of all night partying.  Which is like the rest of us, really…”

Jimmy reaches past you to grab a sandwich, “Yeah, the rest of you old timers…”

“What was that?”, Bo cocks an eye brow at the young boxer, who smartly pretends to be incredibly invested in selecting the right sandwich.

Wrapping his arms a little more tightly around your waist, Din draws soothing circles on your thigh with his fingers, “Don’t let Paz give you the wrong impression of Poe; he’s just bitter because he was always the one who ended up getting in trouble when someone wanted to kick Poe’s ass.”

Paz huffs, “Yeah, getting in trouble for defending him when he probably should have taken a pounding; kissing someone else’s girlfriend half the time.”

“Omigod” you giggle, as Paz puts Jimmy in a loose headlock; revenge for the “old timers” comment.

Woves pipes up, “Oh yeah, he’s still a shameless flirt.  Warn your friends.”

“Warn her friends?! Warn herself!” exclaims Koska.

“He’s mainly all talk though.  Lisa would slit him from balls to throat if she ever caught him cheating,” Woves explains, seemingly to you.

“Caught him again, you mean,” Koska grimaces.

“Oh shoot.  I forgot about that girl on the yacht.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about Fennec’s birthday party, but yeah she was pissed.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Donut shop,” chime in Bo, Mayfeld, Din and Paz in unison.

“Lisa is his girlfriend?” you ask, unsure.

“His wife.  And the mother of his two beautiful kids.  They’ve been together since high school.  On and off, if you haven’t guessed already,” Bo looks embarrassed, even though she has no reason to.

Din hooks his chin over your shoulder and says gently, “That was in the past, though.  They’ve worked through it and he’s been good.”

“Nah.  I bet he just got good at not getting caught.  Always assume cheating until proven otherwise, is what I say,” pontificates Mayfield.

“And that, Mayfeld, is why you’re single,” snickers Woves.

“Right, and you’re beating them off with a stick,” counters Mayfield.  The group laughs, but you find yourself quiet.  You know the Mandos are just joking around and that they’ve all known eachother forever, but you can’t help but bristle a little at the casual way they talk about Poe’s past (and potential?) infidelity.  If the rest of the Mandos are anything like Din, you know they value loyalty and fealty, but did their sense of unwavering commitment not extend to partners?  You and Din haven’t officially discussed exclusivity; you had assumed that like you, Din wasn’t seeing anyone else – but maybe that wasn’t the case. 

You can feel yourself getting in your own head and before you can help yourself, an image of Din kissing someone else flashes before your eyes and your heart constricts painfully.  Sliding off of Din’s lap, you excuse yourself to go check on the food in the oven; you make to busy yourself with taking out and plating the food, but you can’t help it, the heart-breaking image has taken root in your mind.  You’re mad at yourself for spiraling so quickly over something created entirely by your own overactive imagination.  Yes, you haven’t confirmed your relationship status with Din, but he hasn’t given you any reason to give any weight to your sudden anxiety.   This stabbing pain in your chest is entirely of your own making and you feel so much embarrassment that you start to tear up a little bit, which makes it even worse.

You’re not sure how long you’re in the kitchen wallowing, but it must be a while because Din comes in looking for you, “Need any help, pretty bird?”

Turning away from him, you say quietly, “No, thank you though.  I should have everything out in a minute.”

And just like that, Din knows something is wrong; he makes sure you don’t have anything in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose right behind your ear and kissing your neck lovingly, “I’m here, baby.”

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, even though he wants to know.  He doesn’t ask how he can help, even though he would do anything to make it better; he just wants you to know he’s there and that you can come to him on your terms.  You turn in his arms and bury your face into him, breathing in his soothing scent and instantly feeling calmer.  Face smooshed into his chest, you mumble, “Dhnn, dyoothkchhhteenisohhhk?”

Din chuckles, “Sorry, pretty bird, I don’t think I caught that.”

Leaning away slightly, but not making eye contact, you re-ask your somewhat loaded question in a quiet voice, “Din, do you think cheating is ok?”

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to meet his concerned eyes, Din says gently, “No, no, I don’t, sweetheart.  What brought this on?  Is it because we were talking about Poe?”

You sigh a small sigh, “I guess so.  You just seem to all be so… okay with his cheating history?  At least everyone talks about it so casually.  And I’m guessing you all know Lisa too… I feel so bad for her if everyone is talking about how her husband cheats like it’s so normal or something…”  You collect yourself and take a deep breath, “Din, actually, no, I’m sorry.  That’s being presumptuous.  You’ve all been friends forever and have so much shared history… I don’t mean to assume anything about your friendships.  I just… I didn’t know if the way Poe’s cheating seems to be no big deal… means that all cheating is no big deal.”

“I see,” considers Din.  He knows this is a serious topic and it obviously means a lot to you, but he can’t help but find your anxious state somewhat endearing, you aren’t usually so flustered and it makes him desperately want to scoop you up in his arms and soothe away your worries.    He bends down to give you a little peck on your lips before picking you up by your waist and placing you on a free space on the counter.  He doesn’t want you to be able to avoid eye contact with him when he answers, “Pretty bird, I don’t blame you for getting the wrong idea.  You’re right, we probably are too casual when we talk about Poe’s exploits.  It’s been going on forever, and he’s kind of like… a show that we get front row seats for?  Like a celebrity kind of?  We love him, and he give us something to talk about, but the way he lives is not the way we live.  He lives in a totally different world than the Mandos; when you’re the boss’ son, you play by different rules.”

You gaze reverently at Din as he so patiently and lovingly talks you down from your self created ledge and can’t help but let a little smile crack.

“Poe… well, you’ll see.  Poe is Poe.  Can’t be mad at him.  And sometimes that makes it seem like the shit he pulls isn’t that bad.  But, baby, for ourselves?  I promise you, no Mando has ever been a cheat.  It goes against everything we stand for; we don’t cheat each other, we don’t cheat the family, and we definitely don’t cheat in our relationships.  And I swear to you, baby – I never have and would never cheat.  Not on anyone, but definitely not you.”  Leaning in to alternate soft kisses to your lips, your neck, the corners of your mouth and your nose, Din’s voice gets low and husky, “Why would I want anyone else?  You’re my dream girl.  You make me laugh and smile.  You’re so sweet.  And the smartest.  You know how smart you are?  I’m obsessed with everything that comes out of that mouth.  I could listen to you talk about anything for hours.  Days.  And you’re beautiful, and kind, and you take care of me, and my friends.  Just look at how much effort you put in to the food for tonight when you didn’t have to even bring anything at all.  I’m so lucky.  Why would I ever want anyone else?”

“Oh Din,” you whisper, marveling at Din’s talent for saying all the perfect things; you had wound yourself up inexplicably tight, but he knew exactly how to calm you and pull you out of your dark place, “How do you always know what I need to hear to feel better?”

“It’s actually very easy, sweetheart.  All I need to do is tell you the truth,” murmurs Din, as he starts to deepen the kisses, “Actually, scratch that.  I lied a bit, I’m just obsessed with this mouth, period.  Love kissing this mouth.  Love when this mouth opens up for me.  How it feels pressed on my skin.  The way it takes my cock…”

“Oh fuck, Din-“

“…but the thing I love the most about this mouth is the sounds it makes when you come,” Din buries his face into your neck, nipping at your sensitive spots as you cross your ankles behind his back and pull him closer.

A round of raucous laughter from the poker table pulls you out of your arousal laden haze and away from Din, both of you panting lightly.  Looking in Din’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity, you feel comfortable enough to broach the last of your overblown concerns, “Din, if you were seeing other people though, I couldn’t be mad, I guess.  It’s not like we’ve had any talks about exclusivity.”

At first, Din isn’t sure if you’re being serious, the idea so absurd to him.  But when he sees you start to chew your bottom lip nervously, he placates you, “Oh, pretty bird, I didn’t think we needed to have a talk about it.  I’ve been exclusively yours since I met you in the coffeeshop.  I was yours and only yours before I even knew your name, before I knew if I would ever see you again,” Din leans his forehead against yours and you can barely breathe from his romantic words.

When you sigh, relaxed, Din grins, “Feeling better, sweetheart?”  Looking up at him, your eyes bright, you smile and nod happily.  As he helps you hop down from the counter, you cheekily ask, “Don’t you want to ask if I’m seeing anyone else?”

Din stills, hands frozen where they were holding your waist not a moment ago, “Are you?”

Now you can’t help but be mischievous, “And if I were?”

Eyes darkening, Din reaches for you, “Baby, I-”

At that moment, your phone buzzes and you’re saved, “Oh!  Bea and Rory are downstairs!  I’m going to let them in!”  You grab a plate of garlic knots and practically flounce out of the kitchen, depositing the plate at the poker table before exiting the apartment.  You’re about halfway down the stairs when you hear the outside door being buzzed open, and see the smiling faces of your friends along with a the attractive face of a dark haired man you don’t recognize.

The man is chatting animatedly with Bea, his smile lighting up his whole face.  He is quite handsome, you admit – soft longish curls frame his face and he’s mainly clean cut with just a hint of a shadow, giving you a clear view of his chiseled jaw.  His lightly hooded eyes are bright and full of mirth, and his expression is currently so energetic he has a charming, almost boyish look about him. 

You wait for the trio on the second-floor landing; Rory spots you first (“Babe!!”) and rushes up the last few steps before enveloping you in a big hug, the bags in her hands full of clinking wine bottles.  You giggle and give her a big kiss on the cheek, “Is this overkill?” as you peek in her bags and find 7 bottles (2 Cabernet Sauvignons, 2 Sauvignon Blancs, 2 Beaujolais [that’s for you], and one bottle of Rosé).

Rory shrugs, “Didn’t know what everyone would like?”

“That’s why I brought tequila!  Everyone hates tequila!” quips the stranger, beaming widely.

“…and tequila hates everyone,” you smile and introduce yourself while pulling Bea in for a hug.

“Poe!  Poe Dameron!  You must be Din’s girl.  Must say, I can see what the fuss is all about,” he winks, “Guess it’s true what they say, beautiful girls only hang out with other beautiful girls.”

You’re so confused.  The line is so cheesy.  And you know about his flirting from the Mandos… but you’re not creeped out?  Apparently you and your friends are not immune to Poe’s famous charm and earnest brown eyes and you suddenly understand what Din meant when he said you just can’t be mad at Poe.

“Dameron!” comes a shout at the top of the stairs; it’s Paz, with a look of impatience on his face. Unless you’re Paz, you chuckle to yourself.

“Sorry, Heavy P! Got distracted, I mean, even you can’t blame me,” Poe flashes his winning smile again before angling out his elbows and offering up his arms for any willing woman to take.  Letting your friends have at it, you walk ahead and mouth to Paz as you get to the top, “Omigod.  Heavy P?!?”

Paz rolls his eyes and shakes his head (“Lil’ Lady, don’t.”) before muttering, “I swear to god,” and holding out his hands to take the wine from Rory and the bags of food from Bea (which you now realize that Poe notably did not offer to help carry).

You enter the apartment as a comical looking group: Paz laden down with bags that he carries directly to the kitchen (scowling), you looking amused (eyes wide with a kind of astonishment at the scene that just played out), then Poe bringing up the rear, making a grand entrance with a beautiful woman on each arm, grandstanding like a debutant making her entrance at the cotillion.  Al makes a beeline for Rory and Bea when he spots them, and they readily abandon Poe to greet the pup; you have to stifle a snicker when you see Poe’s look of disappointment at having been upstaged by a dog.

“Told you he’s a lot,” a voice whispers in your ear; you turn to find Din grinning at you.  He gives you a little kiss on top of your head before going to greet and welcome your friends.  Introductions are made and everyone gathers around the card table so that those who are playing can play, and everyone can chat, drink and eat.  The Mandos are incredibly hospitable and warm towards your friends; you don’t know if it’s out of kindness to you and Din or just because they really are a friendly bunch, but it fills you with joy to see your friends so well taken care of.  To no one’s surprise (not even Bea or Rory’s), Poe insists on pouring everyone a shot of the tequila he brought and plays deaf to people’s protests.  Rory downs hers without complaint before going back to her cards; you wrinkle your nose in disgust at your shot and when Poe isn’t looking, Din drinks yours, and you see Mayfeld nonchalantly do the same for Bea.  Poe just goes about his business, pouring himself more shots and chaotically raising bets while telling wild story after story about the people in the room (usually targeting the last person who called his hand).  He’s entertaining for sure, and he's seems less interested in winning at poker than he is getting everyone to have a good time.  It’s working.  Poe’s energy is infectious and the tequila is effective - the party gets livelier and livelier as the evening goes on. 

At a certain point, Woves and Paz nearly get into it after Poe (deliberately?) exposes his hand and everyone decides it’s a good time for a break so people can stretch and get more food.  You and Bea flop down on the couch with your wine, and a few people, including Poe, come over to join you, “So, when are you going to come and meet my dad?”

“Why would she meet your dad?” Bea asks curiously.

You look at Poe, your eyes widening just a little, mouth open to interject but having no response ready.  Without missing a beat, Poe says smoothly, “Oh, my dad and Din’s dad were best friends.  Din’s basically family.  My father’s favourite son.”

Bea laughs and you shoot Poe a grateful look, which he acknowledges only with the quickest of winks.  Din comes over, catching the tail end of this exchange; he claps Poe on the back appreciatively before sitting down and throwing his arm around you, “I think I’m done for the night, pretty bird.  Don’t have any more money for Rory to take.”

“Told you she’d clean you all out,” you giggle.

“I think both Bo and Paz are in love with her, too.  I’m not getting in the middle of that, so I’m just going to hang out here with you for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but are you sure?  I don’t want your friends to think that when I’m around, your attention is divided.”

“Oh, it’s not divided, sweetheart.” Smooth talker.  But you can’t help but feel flushed at Din’s words.

“Ok, ew.  Yeah, Dad is going to love you.  He’s been wanting Din to settle down for forever and he deep down he loves this gooey stuff,” bemoans Poe, and the group cracks up.

When the card game looks like it’s going to start up again, Bea yawns a bit and announces she’s going to go hover over Rory to gently encourage her to cash out her winnings so they can head out soon.  This reminds you that you have something for her, and you excuse yourself saying you’ll be right back.

When you emerge from the bedroom with the book you brought for Bea, you run into Din in the hallway; he’s leaning up against the wall, as if waiting for you.

“Hey you,” your smile easy and wide, reflective of how content you are with how this evening has gone.

Din moves towards you and using only his size advantage, crowds you against the wall he was just leaning against, then braces his forearm above you and peers down at you, “Hey pretty bird.”

You can’t help but let out a school girl giggle at this move.

Still holding your gaze, Din says in a low voice, “Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about in the kitchen before.”

Oh. So that’s what this little display is about; you’ve had a little time to think about it and you smile sheepishly, “Oh Din, I have to apologize for that.  Like, the image of you kissing someone else only flashed across my mind for a second and it upset me so much!  I shouldn’t have teased you with the same thing.  I’m sorry.”  You look up at Din with your most innocent, forgive-me eyes.

Din softens internally; he had been prepared to tease you mercilessly, but now looking down at you and feeling a little bad that you had been upset earlier, he’s tempted to let you off the hook.  Maybe.  

“Pretty bird, I’m sorry you had even a moment’s doubt and that it upset you; in case it’s not clear, I’m yours and yours only.  There isn’t anyone else, baby.  Couldn’t be anyone else.”

You melt under Din’s words and you want to make sure he knows how you feel too, “I feel the same way.  You’re so sweet, and kind, and caring, I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.  You make me so happy.  There’s no one else for me but you, Din.”

“But,” Din leans in to whisper darkly in your ear, “if you were seeing other people…”

You gasp a little at the low edge to his voice. “…I would want to know who they were.”  Din places a light kiss on your jaw before pulling back to move to the other side of your face and when he does, the expression you see on his face makes you shiver.  “I’d want to make sure they were treating you right.”  Another light kiss on your jaw.  Switching back again to the other side to nuzzle just below your ear, he continues in his deep, sultry drawl, “But when it’s my time with you… I’d remind you of who you really belong to.”

Afraid of letting out a whimper, you bite down on your lower lip, eyes open wide while you take in Din’s words.  “The things I would do to you would make you scream out my name until you couldn't speak, until you forget every other name but mine.  And when I’m done, there wouldn’t be any doubt in that pretty head of yours that you belong to me, sweetheart.”

This time you do whimper out loud and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall can hear; at this, Din dips to kiss his way to your other ear and growls, “Mine.”  You feel your panties dampen at his possessive words, the low timber of his voice making your knees buckle; Din catches you by wedging his thigh between your legs and you curl your arms under his to steady yourself.  “Yours,” you whisper, “all yours, daddy.”

Din’s mouth is on yours in a flash, tongue gaining quick entrance as your soft moans escape without your permission.  He drinks you in like a man parched, chasing your taste, unable to get enough.  You match the pressing brush of his lips and the movement of his tongue, stroke for stroke; his possessive manner and almost jealous sounding tone unlocking a deep desire within you.  It’s the same part of you that loves to be marked by his mouth, his hands, his cum; that part of your being that wants Din to claim you.  You’re getting all the way lost in Din and the way he surrounds you when you drop the book you’re still holding for Bea and it makes a loud thud that silences the chattering voices on the other side of the wall. 

“Hey, lovebirds!  We can fucking hear you!” booms Paz.

“Looks like I’m not the horniest one for once!”

“Shut up, Dameron!” Din yells, but with a grin only for you, “Yeah, I’m kicking them all out now, pretty bird.”

Chuckling, you give Din a sweet kiss before picking up the book that gave you both away, “Don’t do that.  We need to give Rory time to take all of Poe’s money.”  Winking, you turn to blow Din a kiss before rounding the corner to a chorus of hoots and hollers.

---

Poker night has been so much fun, you’re almost sad it’s over.  Everyone ate and loved the food you and the girls brought over; Mayfeld quietly apologizes for eating over 70% of the garlic knots and on behalf of everyone else who plan to politely demand that you supply the food for all future poker games.  To no one’s surprise, Rory leaves the poker game the big winner, having taken nearly everyone’s money and also the hearts of both Paz and Bo.  Jimmy and Brian encourage you to invite your friends to the next big fight, making sure to do so in Bea’s earshot.  Woves and Koska, both wine drunk, fight over who gets to take Al out for his nighttime walk; a fight they both lose when Din steps in and declares clearly that Al’s late-night walks are spoken for.  Poe, to (poorly) quote Pride and Prejudice, simpered and smirked all evening and made love to them all – you concede that the Mandos were right, he really is the life of the party. 

After everyone leaves and you put your girls in a cab, you and Din set out on your nightly walk with Al.  As you stroll through the neighbourhood, still bustling despite the late hour, you feel Din pull you closer into his side and you respond by hugging his waist and looking up adoringly at him, “I think Al had such a good time tonight, Din.  Thank you for letting me bring him.”

“Of course.  Al’s my boy.  What about you, pretty bird?  Did you have a good time?”

You nod truthfully, “I really did.  I think everyone had such a good time and your friends were so, so nice to my friends.”

“Even Poe?”

“Especially Poe.”  You both chuckle and continue the walk in comfortable silence for a bit.  Deep in thought about the serious discussion the two of you had in the midst of all the fun tonight, Din wants to make sure you’re feeling okay, “How are you feeling about what we talked about?  I know some of the stuff with Poe made you a bit uneasy.”

“Mmmhmm, I went to a bad head space for a bit, but you pulled me out.  Thank you, Din,” you say, lightheartedly, your easy tone suggestive of having moved past it.

“I’m always here for you, pretty bird.”

“And I’m more than okay with what we talked about,” you add; it’s an innocent enough response, but now you’re thinking about how hot your conversation in the hallway was.  Recalling Din’s dark expression as he talked about making you his has you squirming and you feel the warmth of your arousal start to seep through your panties.  When you finally make it to the sidewalk outside of the gym, you decide to broach the topic again.

“Din?”

“Yes, baby?”

You consider how to ask for what you want, “When we get home, do you think you can.. I want you to… do what you said in the hallway?”

Din tilts his head slightly to convey he’s not sure what you mean.

Suddenly shy, the words spill out in a hurry, “I want you act like I’m seeing other people, and then I want you to fuck me hard until I forget that anyone exists but you.”

Realization hits Din like a freight train and he’s overcome by his need to have you right now, “Is that what you want, pretty bird?  You want me to make you scream my name so many times you don’t need to know any one else’s?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, “Fuck me and claim me, daddy.”

“Holy fu-, I can do that.  But tonight, I’m not your daddy.  You only call me by my name.  Got it, pretty bird?”

Wordlessly, you nod again.

“Good girl.  Now get upstairs.”

Go to: Ch. 11 Addendum - After The Poker Game

[scaredcacticle]

Flowers For Men

Bo Sinclair x F!Reader 🔥

Bo’s date makes an unforgettable first impression

“Dammit, sir can you help me,” you ask the man in the same aisle as you.

“Wh-Oh hey pretty girl what can I go for you,” he replies looking you up and down.

“That’s cute, can you please help me out,” you laugh.

“Hey you don’t even know my name,” he replies, an expectant look on his face.

“Fine what’s your name, mines Y/N,” you giggle.

“Names Bo. Now what is a pretty girl like you doing in a dirty shop like this?” he asks as he walks closer.

“Broken fan belt sadly, anyway you can help?”

“Heh… Yeah I can help you get one but only if I get a date in return”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really”

With a smile you can’t help but ask him for a pen and paper. He wasn’t bad looking either, quite the opposite actually. Nice chocolate hair, strong arms visible underneath his mechanics suit, and very strong looking hands.

As you walked with him and got your things you couldn’t help but stare at his body. The sweltering heat had his clothes sticking to him showing every muscle in his back.

“Thank you for helping me”

“No problem doll. This a real number ain’t it”

“Of course it is but don’t open it until I leave. No questions just do it”

“Alright”

As you both part ways Bo opens the paper. It’s your number with a time and date at a diner in town. He smiles to himself and heads home, trying to convince himself he won’t be counting down the days until he sees you again.

________

“Hey,” Bo hears from behind him, that all to familiar sweet voice hitting his ears once again. As he turns he has to all but catch his jaw.

He’s a simple man with simple tastes. The simple jean shorts that hug your thighs ever so tightly and your low cut top has his all of his blood going south.

“Hey doll you look real good,” he says , eyes tracing your breasts over and over again.

“Glad you like my top but I also have a gift for you,” you laugh, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind you.

As you set them down Bo stays sitting in silence, mouth open in disbelief.

“Aww cmon now darlin’ men don’t get flowers,” he says covering his face to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey when we talked on the phone you said yourself ‘men never get flowers until they’re dead’ and I plan on giving you a lot more than flowers before you’re dead,” you say leaning over the table between the two of you, making sure your chest is on full display for him.

For the first time in a long time Bo was absolutely stunned. The woman in front of him had him enamored and he needed her. All of her.

As the date continued you and Bo laughed and laughed until the diner closed. Time passing by the both of you in the blink of an eye.

“Can I come back to your place?” You ask as soon as you both leave the diner making Bo stop.

“What?” he laughs ,” I thought I would be the one to ask”

“But you’re not asking fast enough,” all smiles gone from your face, you step up to him. Your face inches from his.

“Y-yeah I mean I was just making sure you wanted to”

“Of course I am”

“Let’s go then”

————

“So where’s your house?” You ask, taking your jacket off.

“Really? That’s all I get after all that teasing at the diner,” Bo laughs , sitting a not so sly hand on your thigh.

“Hey I gotta make sure you’re not a serial killer or something,” you giggle crossing your legs over his hand.

“Well I own my own shop in Ambrose and a wax museum run by my brother and I”

“Nice”

And with that you give him shorter and shorter replies. At some point he’d wondered if you’d fallen asleep, sometimes not answering him at all. Until he pulled up into Ambrose.

“You alrig-“ he starts to ask before your lips are on his and for the first time he has to push a woman off.

“Woah doll that’s what you’ve been planning huh. Let’s go inside”

“Nope. Let’s do it right here in the open who’s gonna see?”

He thinks you’re a woman after his own heart and before he can even think about it he’s on you.

Hands and lips wandering and rubbing all over you. His hands come under your top and in one swift motion he rips it off of you. Breasts now exposed to the cool air of Ambrose.

Like a man starved his mouth is all over your chest. Squeezing and licking your nipples with a hand to your throat. After making quick work of his pants his hands travel to yours and he does the same.

And right before he can do anything you whip around and fall to your knees. It felt like pure ecstasy to Bo, the warm cavern of your mouth feeling like our ecstasy on his member. But Bo isn’t one to lose control so easily, swiftly grabbing your head forcing you down on him over and over again and right before his climax he pulls you off.

Dragging you to the back of his truck he open the bed and throws you over it stuffing himself inside of you. Wasting no time he rams into you hitting every spot you never could.

“That’s right you’re my little slut aren’t you?” He grunts into your ear, hands tightening around your throat.

“Yes, yes I’m your little fucking slut!” You scream, waves and waves of pleasure rushing over you. But Bo keeps going ramming himself into you harder and harder until he unloads inside of you. Using you like his fuckdoll he keeps going until he’s completely empty.

As he pulls always he looks at the beauty of what he’d done. You’re a mess with his cum dripping down your legs and hair a mess.

“You wanna stay the night doll?” He laughs, wiping the remnants of himself off of you.”

And with your nod he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[joshybearhuggies]

I am probably quite late to this news, especially to an avid Bratz collector…. But the latest Sasha absolutely fuckin SLAHPS!

Sooooo…. When Bratz came back to shelves I 1000% got my life collecting the girlies from my childhood that I couldn’t have. In this fun process I reacquainted myself with these fashionable icons, I also remembered my odd connection to their bodies.

I love their hight being a little shorter than our standard Barbie. I adore the big heads and sultry screenings. AND THE FASHIONS!…… but………. Them “feet shoes” ugh …. It bugged me then and it kinda still erks me today. This bugged me so much that for a moment there I wouldn’t pick a Bratz doll up. When I did I would always find another body for the head. Which also wasn’t really a fix because I wanted them to still remain short. Frustrating for sure. Until I happened upon the LOL OMG hybrids on IG. I made one myself and before I knew it I had a lil army of these hybrids. The color match was spot on and I adored the articulation in the arms/wrist. The dainty lil manicured hands also made my already beloved girlies SING!

With Falicia I’ve already made two in this form lol 😂 I mean I absolutely LIVE for this form factor. It solves all my problems, I get a doll in the same scale, the option for standard shoes, a doll that keeps her feets 🥰 and I could still use many of the fashions for the Bratz dolls.

So because of this level of play I admit I hadn’t given the latest Bratz dolls a fair look. I saw them in passing for sure but until literally tonight… I didn’t think to purchase. Seeing Sasha with floor length hair and upon closer inspection ✨articulated arms/wrists✨😳😳 I had to! She was even on sale to boot.

Immediately I thought…. Maybe I could give the stock Bratz body a go with this articulation. I definitely missed out on the previous Bratz with the articulated arms/wrist aaannd I also missed out on the Bratz dolls that had the full body articulation treatment some time ago. So here we are, I find myself opening this adorable Sasha and hoping I like this doll on her stock body.

I’m so so so happy to say that I am in bed writing this silly little blog entry because I ADORE this body. Now I can finally make useful all the Bratz shoes I’ve hoarded over the years! Telling myself “ONE DAY”! And today is that day! Ugh! I’m floored! I WILL BRING HOME MORE! Mark my words🥰👌🏿

Also we will not unpack the logic of my not liking the “feet shoes” but still keeping said “feet shoes” because they’re too ✨CUTE✨ to toss or sale… we just won’t, there’s no time 😂

I think the new girls still feel like Bratz dolls as well. They’re everything I already love with a more contemporary spice. I think my next girly might be Jade…. Or Yasmin hmmmm

To think…. I only went in Walmart for milk lol 😂 gosh I’m a mess

[millipede-menace]

The bands back together! And they’re old lol

Art Notes/Rants below ⬇️

⚠️Warning⚠️

it is very long, I got a lot to say apparently lol

❗️They’re all aged up btw! In case you’re all wondering why i’m even redesigning them lol

🐱Chizu Mini Rant: I hate Chizu’s design in the show. Not the clothing more so the body model. I hate that they made her the stereotypical curvy cat girl with a tiny hourglass waist and tiny hands and feet. Really weird proportions, Like we’re going back to the betty boop era but no one else in the show looks like this? (Also, No hate to people who are curvy btw love you) It just doesn’t feel like it belongs in the show. Maybe if she were shorter, it would work better? Idk Also she’s like the only one in a full skin tight suit (like I get animation, but they didn’t even bother giving her implied loose clothes or armor like the other ninjas? Maybe bc she was undercover? but then she should’ve been wearing something closer to the bg character models) It’s like they’re trying to make her sexy but like why?????? for why????

I really liked the concept art of Chizu. She’s got a more sharp/rigid and square silhouette but still some curves (w/o it being weird). She still has tiny hands but her head isn’t the size of a watermelon and her face isn’t super tiny, the proportions are good. She’s all power stanced up lol She looks mean and menacing, someone not to trust or mess with. It’s literally spot on. ✨chef kiss ✨ It’s also probably why they didn’t really go with it, they probably rounded her out to be more appealing for the reveal? or she was hard to animate cause she did have baggier pants idk. Who am I, but a rando with a hard boiled egg for brains.

Art Notes: I took a lot of inspiration from the comics and I did want to keep her iconic red so she was still recognizable & stand out from the neko ninja. I made her a regular black cat! (with the idea of black cats being less likely to be adopted & be strays) (;-;) (I know she was kidnapped but still!! The stray cat vibes!!!) I gave her a more lean and tall figure, kinda like the comics but also to play off of Kistune’s height and it give scrawny stray cat vibes . . . again lol. It’s also a body shape I don’t see a lot in physically strong female characters (or maybe I do and just don’t remember? Idk but she can definitely kick your ass & she’s not here for anybody’s bullshit lol) I gave her the iconic ponytail from the comics along with the comb Kitsune usually wears. I wanted to give her green eyes (bc black cat & red and green) but i just kept them yellow. Maybe i’ll go back and change them. Her outfit is mostly inspired from Karai (bc she’s a ninja from eons ago & the gang is a little more traditional) just (pretend cuz i’m lazy) with traditional Japanese patterns. Chizu definitely got kunais and stars up her sleeves, but bc she doesn’t have to be a ninja anymore, I imagine her more into wearing pretty dresses with patterns and cute things. Stuff she never got to wear/ enjoy as a kid, you know. The show really wants to push her to be a bad ass girl boss who hates everyone and everything and is too cool and edgy for games but idk. I like to think she left the ninja stuff behind her and started living her own life based on exploring things rather than just being the cool ninja with an edgy backstory. I think she uses ninjitsu as a means of self defense but doesn’t like being connected to it b/c of the kidnapping and stuff. (We also see how she doesn’t really care about the tradition of ninjitsu cause during the show, she has no fucking clue what to do with the neko ninja, she just wanted them to stop hurting people and wanted to free the babies lol) Usagi and Kitsune are the ones who indulge her childish side. She wears a lot of red but her favorite color is pink. Kitsune def hypes her up and goes feral when she wears pink.

🦊 Kitsune Mini Rant: I hate Kitsune’s clothes in the show. Idk it just doesn’t look right on her. It’s got no shape it’s got no hiding spots for stolen goods. It’s not Kitsune. I like the concept art fit, it’s really cute. (She looks like a mini tank who will fuck you up in a cute way) but still #1 thing missing. Hiding spots for stolen goods!!! She needs some loose sleeves or flowy clothing like in the comics. (btw: I know it would be harder to animate in the show therefore I accept what they gave her but still!!!)

Art Notes: I’m not too sure about Kitsune’s fit tbh. I’m still workshopping it. She just needs something with loose sleeves! (Like she for sure is stealing shit and putting it up her sleeves, you can’t tell me i’m wrong/ it’s also where she could keep her fans!) I think i’m obsessed with her sleeves cause I imagine her gambling or playing a game of cards with a bunch of dangerous criminals and someone accuses her of cheating and she goes “What?! Me?! No, no. I’m just that good or maybe . . . you’re just that bad-” Then all the stolen cards fall out her sleeves and she just goes -fuck. and it turns into this picture vvv

ANYWAYS!!!! I gave her short hair bc idk, a girls gotta change it up sometime 💅 I actually liked her hair mimicking a fox tail but I feel like she would get bored of it and chop it all off one day. She's definitely the one who cuts and dye’s her hair at 1am then cries about it the next day. She’s got visibly longer ears and sharper face. Kitsune and Usagi wanted to get piercings together cause they’re besties and want to be edgy (she lowkey got it on her left ear to match Chizu) and so they did and Usagi’s Auntie was so PISSED lol. They got chewed out. Her hands and feet should be a little darker but i forgor. Also she’s got dark teal wrappings so it would be hard to tell anyways. I gave her the crop top with buttons from the concept art and the sleeves from the comic. They have the same maple leaf print from her comic too (i’m just lazy) and the cuffs are just lined to mimic the layers she had. She’s got her little pack, she’s also got some more smaller ones on the back (kinda like Leo). She also made a comment about not having money to buy herself shoes so . . . she’s got no shoes lol. It just wrappings under her shin guards. (no shoes just like Leo smh) It helps her be more sneaky tho >:)

Oh and they’re dating but i feel like that’s a given lol. I saw people shipping them at first and it literally went -> *sees ship* Oh they’re shipping the only two main female characters together again- yeah that’s greeeat- *Watches the show* oh. nvm I retract my sarcasm, they’re def gay for each other, thats nice. This is nice -w-

which is pretty funny, cause I think they don't like each other in the comics? (from what I saw in the singles panels I used as a reference at least) Chizu’s legit ready to kill Kitsune lol

Post Note: I totally forgot Chizu chose a bow and arrow as a weapon so now she’s just the stereotypical tall archer . . . i’m gonna go now ;-;

Gen Mini Rant: Holy Moly dudes, he was sooooo hard to draw ;-; I don't hate his design at all, actually it's one I like the most. I just don't like that there's not a lot of contrast on the 3D model and he kind just blends into a purple blob. (for me at least) I defiantly didn't do him justice but that's the best it's gonna get (from me that is.)

Art Notes: Don't look the feet . . . for any of them but mostly Gen lol. I don't really like the purple I chose but every color combo I did just looked bad idk. I can't do color, don't look at me man. Me and purple do not mix. He's still a bounty hunter so I wanted to keep his armor but I wanted him to have a long tail-coat/cape-ish jacket cause he would look cool as hell with one of those >:) (prob not practical but still) I wanted to add elbow and knee pads, but he's a rhino, he can take it. Also how can bad guys hurt him if he's too busy beating them up with his brass knuckles? He's still got his clubs but he likes clanging his fists together. lol His horn grew back! He's also got a goatee and everyone makes fun of him. The gang always threatens to shave it off in his sleep. I took more inspo from the show than the comic cause I don't really know Gen in the comics and what I did find was just miyamoto usagi but purple ;-; (clothes wise)

I wasn’t kidding, I had a lot to say, any survivors?

Feel free to suggest or critic my designs!! :0 Im not a design person and its mostly just for fun, but i looooove hearing people’s takes, especially hot takes >:) i like poking brains, its fun ^^

[petrapalerno]

LOTKM Chapter One: A Higher Power, Or Whatever

🐚LENA

If I had to choose someplace to die, this would be it.

Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen the journey it took to get here—I’d happily skip the alien abduction and trafficking bit. The rest, all things considered, drifting into a brightly colored unknown ocean is pretty damn peaceful.

I learned long ago that worrying about things out of my control was useless. I could rage, scream, and slam my fist into my plastic security bubble, but it won’t make a difference.

I am going to die, and I’m going to wonder at the beauty of this place before I go. I doubt another human has seen these bright-colored creatures swimming by. They’re fish-like but more torpedo-shaped. A set of googly eyes dangle from long stalks below their bodies. Their scales glint in the sunlight as the schools float around me, almost reminding me of camera flashes back on Earth.

I take a deep breath and try to enjoy their unearthly elegance, leaning my back against the gently curving wall of my security pod.

This plastic bubble I’ve danced in for the past year has become familiar. I know every scratch and ding. Despite how much you claw at its wall, I know it can’t open from the inside.

Whatever space-age plastic the Deenz aliens use is robust. I don’t know how much of the growing pressure it can handle as we descend further into the depths of this seemingly bottomless ocean.

The sunlight from the surface is ever waning, and the waters around me get darker and murkier the further I fall.

Another breath fills my chest as I try to quell the anxiety creeping in from the peripherals of my psyche.

The school of creatures follows me like companions ushering me to the afterlife.

I put a hand against the plastic enclosure to thank them for not leaving me alone. I’ve always loved the ocean. Many of my tattoos are of underwater scenes: the coral reef on my calf, the stingray guarding my bicep, and my favorite tattoo—Aphrodite reclined on the half shell on my shoulder.

My soul has always been called to the water, so I guess this demise is fitting.

Thanks, to the universe or whatever higher power controls this kind of thing, I find myself thinking.

As I try to project my gratitude to these little aquatic creatures and some higher power, I catch a flash of yellow from the corner of my eye.

It moves too fast for me to get a good look at it. Spinning around in my bubble, I search for whatever it was.

As the school of alien fish shift suddenly to the left, I see him.

A muscular canary yellow alien, his head full of pulsating tentacles, gapes at me. The tentacles shift as if moved by the underwater currents. They splay around his head like a lion’s mane. His strong arms and legs pump as he descends with my bubble.

I say “he” because his cock is something you really can’t miss. It isn’t hard, but still floats proudly on display. His dick’s impressive length is nestled in tentacles similar to the ones that surround his head but they’re much shorter. Almost like if you traded out pubes for a sea anemone. I guess that makes sense since his head “hair” is also comprised of tentacles.

I wonder what that would feel like? I think, before quickly scrubbing the thought from my mind.

I’m more than likely going to die, and I don’t want my last thoughts to be about alien dick.

I break my gaze from his crotch, not wanting to be a complete and total pervert. His smooth yellow skin is covered in a pattern of squiggly teal rings. He’s got the physique of an Olympic swimmer, with a broad set of shoulders tapering into powerful legs.

His eyes are blue and bore into me as if questioning my very existence.

“Hi.” I huff, taken back by this strange alien adonis that’s found me.

When I speak, he springs out two of his head tentacles that appear longer than the rest to grip the outside of my bubble. My descent stops so rapidly that I drop to my knees like a stone.

Tentacle Man pulls me closer to him. The strength in those two thick appendages sends a strange thrill through me.

He puts his face up against the plastic and appraises me with his full lips agape.

“What are you?” He cocks his head, his deep voice muffled through the water.

“I’m Lena. I’m human,” I whisper, shocked he can speak.

He screws up his mouth and furrows his brows, “I don’t understand you,” he says, tapping a spot in front of his ear. “I don’t have a translator chip, and I don’t think you speak Andjin. There’s no tech allowed during the great proving—we are only as the Greath Mother created us.”

What in the flying fuck is the great proving?

But even in my confusion, I realize he stopped my bubble from dropping further into the ocean…does this mean I won’t die?

“Are you going to help me?” I say slowly as if that might help him understand me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your language. I don’t even know what species you are…but it seems like you’re in danger.” His face softens, and he places his slightly webbed fingers against the plastic.

“Can you understand me? If you can, nod,” He tells me softly.

I nod, and he smiles.

“Well, at least one of us can get our point across….” He trails off as if catching sight of my body for the first time.

I’m wearing the thin, near-pornographic costume that all the trafficked human women wear. Its light blue stretchy material is strapped tightly across my neck, belly button, and nipples. All connected to a vertical strap covering my crotch.

“I like your skin’s patterns,” he says, letting his eyes drag down my body. “But I think there’s something wrong with your camouflage, as beautiful as they might be.”

“Those are tattoos. I don’t have camouflage,” I say practically to myself, knowing he doesn’t understand me.

“Do you need help?” He questions me, his eyes full of sincerity.

I nod aggressively.

I don’t have to die today.

Do I trust the bizarrely handsome alien man in front of me? I’m not sure. He seems kind, but my trust disappeared not long after I was abducted. I don’t know if it’ll ever come back.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been dancing at this point, maybe months? Everything tends to blur together. The Deenz, the hive-minded purple alien fucks who captured me from Earth, give us all kinds of shots.

Downers to sleep, then uppers and aphrodisiacs to “work.”  It doesn’t make it easy to keep track of time, and sometimes it’s better to forget any of the memories you make.

“I’ll try my best to help you…” He pauses, “My name is Kitaico. What’s yours?” He asks, pointing to me.

“Leeenuh,” I tell him slowly.

“Leeenuh,” he repeats. He smiles at me, a grin full of sharp teeth slightly more tapered than mine. I scramble backward, taken off guard by his predatory mouth.

I start to second guess myself–that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but I’m out of options and apparently willing to gamble on a total stranger for help.

A shadow floats below my bubble as we try to figure each other out. I crane my neck down to see what it is, wondering if they’ll be more beings like Kitaico.

It’s not. An immense creature, about the size of a blue whale, approaches us. But there’s nothing gentle looking about the giant rising quickly in the distance.

While its head is whale shaped, that’s where the similarities end.

The creature’s sides pulse with bioluminescence as it cuts quickly through the water. Its tail is some nightmarish combo of a stingray and a scorpion. A barb at its end flashes with blue light. As it spots us, it lets out a terrifying roar and opens its mouth, filled with jagged rows of fangs.

I gasp, turning back to Kitaico; his skin has changed to the deep blues of the waters surrounding him.  He sets his jaw and turns away from me, and for a moment, I fear he will leave me to be devoured by the creature.

As he swims, I realize his two longest head tentacles are still wrapped around my bubble, and he’s dragging me towards the surface.

His powerful legs kick wildly as we climb. I can tell he’s struggling to keep up his pace. Looking down, I see the monster gaining on us. It snaps its mouth, gnashing its fangs.

“Hurry, Kitaico!” I yell in vain, hoping he’ll understand me. He doesn’t respond, but I can see his camouflage shifting wildly between colors. I wonder if the effort of our escape is pushing his body to its limits.

I push myself against the bubble’s far side as the monster’s mouth closes around the bottom. With a violent crunch, it rips away a chunk of my former prison. It thrashes it’s head like a shark attempting to subdue its prey but putting some distance between us once more.

I barely have time to hold my breath before I’m sucked out of the bottom. The water crashing in makes the air rush out like a vacuum. My muscles clench painfully from the blast of water as I tumble into the warm ocean spinning head over foot. I snap my eyes shut. Soon enough, I’ll be nothing but fish food.

Something snakes around my ankle, tugging the skin so hard I can nearly feel my skin rip. Then there’s something around my waist, drawing me up again.

“Leeenuh, hold on!” Kitaico yells as he hoists me into his arms, “We only need to get a bit higher, the scripiat won’t be able to follow much longer. He can’t survive in the shallows!”

He strokes one hand behind my head and tucks my body into his chest.

I don’t have enough air. My lungs burn as I involuntarily cough, and what little breath I have left escapes bubbling upward.

Kitaico slows and his heart is still pounding against my ear.

“The scripiat returns to the depths. We are safe,” he whispers.

I kick my legs weakly, pointing my finger to the surface. I can’t stop myself from gulping in a deep breath of salt water, choking on its mineral taste.

“Leeenuh, we are safe now. Stay calm.”

My vision blurs and I lose control of my head as it slumps into my alien hero—it’s not his fault he doesn’t know I breathe oxygen.

Darkness creeps into the edges of my vision.

I point up one more time before I lose consciousness.

We were so close.

More chapters are available on my Patreon here.

[thefanciestborrower]

CJ.

CJ you gotta hear me out.

In Newsies the homies are worried about going to Brooklyn because, and I quote, "them Brooklyn boys is big"

So. So maybe Brooklyn is just full of mini giants.

Follow-up thought is that in "Brooklyn's Here" they call the Manhattan newsies their buddies and frankly I think this is free real estate to say that folks like Spot will just nom smaller newsies when they're having issues that can be solved with violence

I AM LOOKING. SO HARD 👁👁

This honestly fits *so* well with some personal mini giant stuff I’ve been rotating around in my head for a while now help. Like! I just feel like it makes sense that different Burroughs would have larger or smaller populations of mini giants depending on where you look, so while there’s maybe one or two families in lower Manhattan a good majority of Brooklyn is populated by these tall lads. Gives a whole new reason for everyone to be scared of Brooklyn cause they’re all just so BIG! OH ALSO! I am a sucker for short Spot lmao so in my brain he’s totally on the shorter side of mini giants, but still absolutely big enough to eat Jack. Which he does any chance he gets because Jack is a chaos gremlin who deserves it. 

That leads into your second thought and all I have to say is YES ABSOLUTELY. I do feel like there are some friendships between Brooklyn and Manhattan, even if things can get super heated during turf disputes, so it’s not uncommon for someone to get eaten for one reason or another. But it would be an extra common occurrence during the strike. People about to beat up their smaller newsie buddies? Just eat said buddies to get them out of harms way and then punch whoever was causing the problems.

Also this brings up something that I’ve been debating which is wether I want Davey and his family to be mini giants or not. I think it would be funny if they are lol cause then we could get Jack trying to threaten people by saying Davey will eat them if they don’t do what he wants, and poor Davey is just standing there like ‘I would rather die than do that actually’. Plus listen. Nine year old Les being the same hight as Jack is peak comedy to me, and Jack getting himself a mini giant girlfriend in the form of Sarah (just cause I like Jarah a little more than the other ships lol) would be amazing. 

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A bunch of shorter replies today! Starting with a question about commissions and a then slowly diving into shippy territory…

Anonymous asked:

question for the chibi commission

if we’re adding more characters and want them in color would that add to the price? like would it add to the $25 for more characters in color?

Yes, in general $40 is the base price and +$25 is for each additional character. So, a drawing of three chibi characters in full colour would be $90.

But if you have a large group of characters or a big set of chibis, the price will be calculated in a different way (depending on the specifics of the commission itself).

Thank you for your interest and sorry for the late reply!

Anonymous asked:

Hi, I sent a fanfic draft to my server concerning teenage romance (M-level stuff) and a member (abt 16) positively replied I'm "a responsible artist not exploiting the subject matter". Am I being unreasonable finding this response extremely backhanded? That I'm classy and restrained enough to get a pass from antis who'd otherwise harass me? I wanna ask you given your experience dealing with those kinds of folk.

Hi, Anon!

Honestly, this would’ve rubbed me the wrong way too, so I see what you mean. It really feels like it’s “you’re better than the rest of these freaks, but you’re still on thin ice”, as if your art only exists to get their approval. Still, I don’t want to put words into that person’s mouth though, who knows what they actually meant.

Our experience is that we just don’t deal with those kinds of folk. We avoid minors as much as we can because they tend to stick to this attitude of “well if you do it like this it’s okay, but don’t make it weird”. But it’s not exclusive to minors; we avoid adults who talk like that too. We just feel like it’s always the same thing: even if you try to be as unproblematic as possible, you’ll end up being their punching bag sooner or later, so is censoring yourself even worth it in the first place?

But this is how we feel about it as someone who doesn’t get this type of comments, Anon. We are on the other side of this situation, where they would tell us “Why does it have to be sexual?” “Why do you have to draw siblings like that, what about other characters?” “Why don’t you just ship him with someone his age?”

So yeah, even though that person technically complimented you, it does sound super condescending to us personally, as if they’re just patting you on your head for not breaking their arbitrary rules. Then again, if they’re a minor, the server is clearly a safe space for them, so maybe it’s not a good place to have this type of discussion… I wouldn’t really know.

We, based on our specific content and circumstances, decided not to waste our time trying to reason with them, but once again: I can’t know for sure what that person meant when they commented on your fic. I can only guess that if you were to write something spicier than M, they would act betrayed and disappointed, and that sucks. We just stick 18+ on literally anything we do also to get rid of the majority of toxic people, especially children.

For us, it’s easier to be a terrible person overall than to try and follow their constantly changing rules of what is acceptable and “a responsible way to portray something” – they’ll claim your passable content has been yucky all this time as soon as they want to be done with you.

I hope this makes sense…

Anonymous asked:

HELP HELP RYU YOUR TWEEL/IDIA ART IS SO GOOD!!!! I LOVE THE BLOOD ON THE TILE AAHHH!!!! i love how it goes in the grout, very real. very amazing. i've always liked seeing the flow of blood, it adds a good amount of realism (but not too much!!!) i stand with your katsu because those fish CANNOT go unfucked.

AHh thank you so so much, Anon!! I am so happy to hear that hehe! I’ve been trying to work on how I draw blood, so it’s amazing to hear that it looks good.

Katsu and you are people of culture and lovers of fish, and honestly this is beautiful. I am so proud and happy for you…

Anonymous asked:

Idia….why the freak are you falling like Mikan? I suppose next you’ll fall and end up with no pants and all tied up….

YES, EXACTLY LIKE MIKAN. Oh my god. This is because he’s been playing too many videogames, now moe fall physics affects him in real life. Whenever he falls, his pants magically disappear, and the rest of his body is… well.

Anonymous asked:

… I want to touch the butt….✋👁👄👁🤚

I want to hold the butt…👐

I’m assuming you mean Idia’s moe butt, and I that’s the case, go ahead and do it! Be careful though, the guard dog might bite you…

Anonymous asked:

Digging your Catherine AU. Any more art or headcanons?

Thank you so much, Anon! We had no idea anyone would like this AU when we first posted it hehe, I’m still very excited when people comment on it.

But unfortunately, I can’t give you anything new. As I stated before, it’s been quite a while since we’ve played the game, so we don’t have much thoughts or any new art for now :( We just wanted to convey a vague concept because we liked the idea of Azul being Katherine too much lol and then the rest of it just made sense.

Anonymous asked:

How do you think tsums have sex?

Passionately. Animalistically. Roundly….

We haven’t seen the tsum event yet, but I’m sure we’ll have more opinions about their reproductive system when we do lol For now I just think they jump on people (…I mean, other tsums, other tsums!) and rub against them violently until something happens. Do they even have genitalia?

[dayurno]

more than a woman is the ultimate kevin day song to me……. im so glad you agree…… i knew you would understand. i was listening to that playlist the other day and realized i HADNT added it yet and it felt like an oversight so i had to fix it immediately. it was very important to me the whole playlist wasn’t sad. i stsrted my kevin playlist in the height of me losing my mind about him last year in july (i read the books for the first time at the end of may!) but it only made me crazier so i held off making the jean one until november LOL. his is def a little more sad but i think a good portion of the songs are hopeful :-) and YEAH jean is soooo hozier to me. i gave myself a limit on how many hozier songs i could add. it will probably be broken eventually

UR PINTEREST BOARD that fic is going to kill me. im so excited every time you share something about it…. the dynamics seem so fun ^-^ also the richard siken tweet in there Took me Out. i own and have read crush by him so many times like it’s such a big part of who i am and relating that to kerejean makes me. sbdjebx. sweating. nauseous. so excited. the vibes are so good, it feels very nostalgic and warm already….. btw your jean playlist hit me over the head and gave me a.Concussion. i wanna get better???!?! under the table???? OOM SHA LA LA? that song changed my brain chemistry like three years ago and im going to associate it with him forever now. your kevjean playlist being so long is so very real too….. i need to sit down and listen to the full nine hours of it.

DBSIDBSID. the kandrew beef is Personal and it’s so funny. i am working on making them get closer it just takes a lot of time bc andrew simply does not like to stick around. he comes to a sort of truce with them at some point, mostly after he and jean have a Talk alone, but he still doesn’t like kevin for a while. there IS side andreil tho…. neil is 26 :3 he comes to visit kevjean in paris for a bit and immediately causes problems. but the problems help them get their shit together so it’s fine! andrew is of course intrigued. most of it happens in the background tho bc they like to disappear together…… but neil actually ends up in foster care and gets adopted by wymack when he’s around 13, which is around the same age andrew is adopted and meets jeremy, so they understand each other still :) they do a lot of sneaking around and do not want their relationship perceived at all vs jeremy knox head of the PDA committee and very happy for his own friend finding love.

the biting…….. jeremy falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum but he does suffer from the most intense feelings of love anyone has ever felt and will latch on like a dog and not let go sometimes. it really depends on his mood and what they’re doing how hard he bites ^-^ jean almost never complains but kevin always does. as is how they are. and they really both love attacking kevin. sitting there biting at his neck and shoulders and jean in particular likes gnawing on the wrist bone. jeremy is only a few inches shorter than kevin but will not hesitate to push him around….. dreamy sigh. at first he’s very nervous about overstepping Anything around either of them but once he knows that they actually like him he becomes such a menace. it’s his life’s duty to make kevin day, his childhood celebrity crush, a little embarrassed and whiny. both he and jean are soooo happy to tease kevin and kevin complains constantly about being ganged up on. jeremy is actually still IN college too, he turns 23 toward the beginning of the fic (i. hc him as a cancer!) and he and andrew have their fifth year to get through so he’s really just some college kid nibbling on and picking on them and taking over their apartment. trust that jean gets teased too he wouldn’t want anyone left out!

JEANFO….. jean….. my apple strudel….. there is so much i could say about him but it feels hard to do him justice…… he really is so special. he’s a little more healed of course bc he’s 28 and has always had kevin keeping contact with him. kevin got out at 14 so jean was there for 6 years without him and it’s really. it’s not a good time for him. but kevin refuses to lose contact and even sneaks across state lines to see him at 16 when he gets his license (with 14yo neil). jean has always had something to hold onto and live for. so jean is doing okay……. he still struggles and he’s very stubborn so he would rather AVOID things and kevin isn’t the kind of person who’s going to push him to face them (kevin has his own things to avoid) but he gets a good push from jeremy. and he LOVESSSS keremy. it’s one of his greatest joys that the two people he loves most care about each other the way they do. he’s so obsessed with them and so excited to show them off when they get together with friends. he’s really a little bit of a clingy freak :-) ESPECIALLY if he gets drunk. he’s a very needy drunk and if someone doesn’t kiss him (or if he doesn’t get to bite) his whole night is ruined and they certainly can’t have that. he learns quickly he cannot keep up with jeremy Party Boy knox tho. he’s a silly guy <3 sooo bitchy to everyone outside of his boyfriends but tender with them…. they’re trusted with his girlish little heart. i could talk about him for ages but i fear tumblr will cut me off LOL our responses to each other are getting so long like we’re writing letters by candlelight to be sent post-haste…..

HELLO MY LOVE im sorry for the late reply my pc was out of commission and answering asks on mobile is terrible but i am back now as your penpal. I LOVED MORE THAN A WOMAN OFC i understand i think i've had so many kevin day playlists since i first read aftg in 2020 (which feels like such a lifetime ago!), so i try not to keep too much track of them and not to take them or myself too seriously either. in a way all the playlists i've made have been an abstract of my life at the time of making so i want to preserve them that way! which is why my kandrew playlist is 6 hours long. because i am preserving.

THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY PINBOARD i wanted this fic most of all to be an ode to friendship. in kandreil i think theres so much history and tension there that sometimes it's easy to forget that there are other reasons people can stay together, so i wanted to write a kerejean where they felt like they were genuinely friends before it ever started careening into romance!!!! i think it's working. Probably. it's a very joyful and warm fic (or at least i hope it is) and i've been having a lot of fun with dialogue specifically because so much of friendship is just talking! anyway ah i have to stop myself before i spoil anything so just know it's going to be fun. hopefully. and there's a scene where jean calls kevin the first flower of edgar allen (direct rip off from tlt but bear with me)

I LOVE THEM BOTH TEASING KEVIN!!!! is there anything more genuine than teasing your crush together.......... that's the kind of thing i live 4 in relationship dynamics................ ohhh i just know this fic will get me so bad if it ever sees the light of day (heh).... ALSO HE'S STILL IN COLLEGE KEVINNNNNNNNNNN kevin youre letting a man still in college boss you around youve been better and more dignified endings. AND I LOVE DRUNK JEAN THANK YOU especially needy aiyayayaya..... my favorite senseless hc is that jean is a lightweight and he cant keep up with neither jeremy nor kevin nor renee. he's drunk off of one glass while the other three compete to see who can get liver failure first. he has been consistently getting drinked under the table by kevin for years. our beautiful apple strudel....... our little cabbage as the french say. :-)

i hope my candlelight letter reaches YOU post-haste and ofc im sorry for the wait!

[arlathen]

anyway, like, final thoughts on book 3 . not that i expect that u care and i’m not much of a media critic. this is as much for me to sort out my thoughts as anything else.

i liked it! it’s definitely the weakest of the three books. and felt shorter? was it shorter?? i feel like books 1 and 2 took me FOREVER to play through, whereas i played through both of these like. on my breaks while at work. idk. i didn’t read as closely, granted.

far and away the weakest part was the plot -- or the antagonist, specifically. we got a lot of build-up with sin in the demo and kind of in the way the book was promoted, but he just didn’t feel... dangerous? textbook show dont tell ass stuff. UB tells us he’s dangerous but other than “hes strong and he can fly and UB can’t fight him” -- like, yknow? i think we needed to see him more thoroughly kick UB’s ass. and since all the other scenes with anwir are through sin’s pov, and we don’t see sin call him anwir, it felt like the “real” antagonist, like, wasn’t there.

oh and the hand-wavey “sin is doing this because of, uh, magic” -- but it’s *never* explained? i thought i missed it my first playthrough. i still think i missed it. this is the antagonist, dude! we have to have a coherent motivation for them.

also some... i don’t know whether to call it tonal or pacing problems. we’ve got this kind of urgent plot and it felt like sera kept going “okay, this is getting too plot heavy, let’s send the detective on a date” -- whereas in the other books the time spent with the LI felt more natural.

as of right now i played a nate-focused LT (i.e. i got the nate-date scenes when the choice was presented) and an adam route. i love the LT normally and probably would’ve liked it more if i’d split my time between adam and nate; the “detective goes with nate and adam looks at them sadly” didn’t give me the angst i wanted. 

i’ve seen some people complain about the A route moving too quickly, but. yeah i dunno this is on par with what i expected. we’re almost at the half-way point of the series and sera has been very clear that A’s route isn’t going to end book 7 with them admitting their feelings. we’re going to get substantial time being in a relationship with them. they spent two (and a half, really) books completely in denial. we’ll probably get a full confession and some sort of cautious relationship in book 4, and be in an actual relationship with them for the rest of the series.

sorry. oh my god this is not on topic. and maybe it’s because i read a lot of romance novels and am broadly very familiar with the genre because it’s my collection at work. but i feel like a lot of wayhaven fans have not gotten it into their heads that this is essentially a romance novel. like, it’s full of romance tropes. i’m familiar with the genre so my expectations are pretty much always in line with what ends up happening. but a lot of time i see people complaining about things and im like “thats......part of the genre. you wouldn’t complain about a fantasy book for having magic?”

anyway. i liked a’s route. the kiss scene was a lil melodramatic, but in a delightful way ;^) and picking N as your best friend in a’s route is just Peak. i love it.

oh, the whole chamber thing felt like padding. i wish there had been more to the meeting, or that the meeting had been cut. i hated that the detective didn’t have a lot of options to... like, take it seriously? like they’re portrayed as being super nervous leading up to it and then they fuck around inside the room itself and mouth off to the chamber members. i’m sure it’s meant to.... like, the chamber is going to be much more important later, so sera wanted to introduce them early and have the detective have met them so that it doesn’t seem like she pulled them out of nowhere when they’re important later on. but yeah, super weird bit. these people are flying in from all over the world to have a six minute conversation with you where they introduce themselves and possibly scold you for letting tina/verda find out about the supernatural. Why. this could have been an email.

ummmmmm the dinner date scenes were my favorite part. the house arrest dates were a little weird but enjoyable. i didn’t like that when you fuck up at the auction and have to make the choice between apprehending anwir and saving the captives, sin just captures him for you (or does he only do that if you were nice to him or smth? i haven’t done any code diving or extensive testing). there should’ve been consequences. sera wasn’t afraid to let murphy get away before.

i think that’s it. 6.5/10 stars. will probably play N’s solo route and will definitely play A’s route again. not as good as book 1, but i don’t think any of them will be. <3

[rikusempai]

Shit-- DAD!!!?!?

[Shifting series part 2]

A/N: some characters are aged up. I am also using an online Na’vi translator so my Na’vi might not be the best.

The village was buzzing with worry; some scared some confused, some everything in between. The kids ran into the village with the two humans in their arms. Jake called in Norm and Dr. Max Patel but they wouldn’t be flying in till tomorrow.

“Jake, these sky people. They might belong to the others!” Neytiri yelled at Jake in a hushed tone.

“I know, I know, but they’re just kids—“

“Just because they are kids—“

“I know, Neytiri.” Jake took her hands and held them tenderly. “We still need to be cautious, but those kids need our help.”

Neytiri, huffed. “Fine,” she then stormed off somewhere down the coastline. Jake tried calling after her but to no avail. He sighed and walked towards the hut where the two humans stayed.

He peaked through the curtains; the two humans were lying down, still unconscious, but being tended to by Lo’ak and Tsireya.

“Hey, are they doing okay?” Jake asked, crouching bedside his son whom was changing the cold rag on the blonds forehead.

“They are—“ Tsireya pressed her slender fingers on the small wrists of the humans, “alive.”

“Still not awake though,” Lo’ak sighed. Jake nodded his head.

“Well,” Jake stood back up. “Repot back to me if anything, and make sure to rest yourself.” He pointed to the both of them.

“Yes sir,” the kids spoke in unison.

3:35 PM

Cecilia’s eyes fluttered open in a blur; colours of brown, red, blue, green, flooded her vision. She blinked away the crust clouding her vision, now being able to examine her surroundings. A hut. She was in a hut of thick stretched hide and coloured straw-like material weaved all around her; it resembled a wave, slanted on all sides like fluid water would.

She sat up, taking in her full surroundings. A brown blanket covered her, and to say it was over sized, would be an understatement; it was triple her body size. A water jug sat beside her and a wet rag sloppy laid on her lap. Cecilia looked to her side and there slept her cousin, Riel.

“Where the hell are we,” she whispered. Next thing she heard was a thump. She whipped her head around and saw a straw basket filled with things slumped on the floor. She looked up and after turning her neck up all the way, she met the bright golden eyes of a person, thing, unknown to her.

“Shit-- Dad!?!” The tall humanoid thing ran away with urgency, Cecilia’s spine shot up in shock, the feeling of cold chills shivered up her spine. Before her mind could think, he body moved; she scrambled to her cousins side and tried to wake her. 

“Riel, Riel!” Cecilia yelled in a hushed tone. Riel didn’t move a muscle; she only moved like jello in her arms. Guess I’ll just have to drag you. Cecilia stands up shakily and gets a firm grip on Rheas boot and tries to drag the sleeping rock. Just before dying on the spot, only making as far as a corder of a meter, she froze in her spot. 

Tall people; extremely tall blue people at the foot of the hut staring at the girl in shock, other than the relatively ‘shorter’ one trying to hold in a laugh. 

Both parties exchanged a wave of worry, but instead of standing awkwardly like the blue people, Cecilia fainted but was quickly caught by the tallest. (Thank god this mans has long legs-- 10ft for nothing looking’ ass)

Masterlist

[shadesinbetween]

These are just some goals off the top of my head that I’d like to see if I’ll be able to accomplish any of them this year. I have, what I personally call, bad habits as a writer that I’d like to have better control over.

These aren’t things that I wish to continue beating myself up over. These are things I want to look back on and say, “look how you’ve grown”.

Writing Goals: These are goals I’ve picked based on how chaotic I’ve been in 2023 - there are a lot of ones I don’t want to keep beating myself up over for continuing to do.

- Write a minimum of 2-3K words a day.

- Keep WIPs/new ideas to myself until I’m closer to publishing them. We all know I’m terrible at this one.

- Only have one ongoing work posted to AO3 at a time. I always let my excitement of wanting to share new ideas that I post things ASAP, which has lead to other ongoing works that others wait for updates for to get lost. I also hope to have at least two chapters always written in full before posting/updating new chapters. In my dream writing world, I’d only have one work focused on at a time and not let anything new creep in until I finished the one I already have ongoing.

- Posting oneshots sporadically when having an ongoing multi-chapters fic, and if they become excessively long still write out the entire work before deciding on whether or not to post it into split parts. For one of my ongoing works (that has all of my bad habits going for it), I thought it was just going to be a 20K one shot. It’s turning into something much longer than that. I still feel like it reads more as a oneshot that a multi-chapter work, and I already planned on posting a part of it before finishing the rest. This is the last time this will occur.

- Do not share posting dates ahead of time. AKA don’t make promises you can’t keep. So far, I’ve broken every single one I’ve made. I don’t like keeping others waiting on things they’re excited for and then not receive them. Another thing in my writing dream world would be to have one set day and time during the week as a posting day.

- Separate Outlines into colored sections to make writing and editing less of a stressor. In the past I’ve always waited until I’ve written a work in full before editing, which has usually been late in the night where I’m exhausted. That leads to skim editing. I want to write in sections and edit those sections before moving forward.

- Do not feel like I have to sign up for every exchange or challenge I come across. I signed up for a couple for the end of this year because I felt like having more fun in this fandom and wanted to introduce my writing by joining in! I just don’t want to overwhelm myself by signing up for too many, or feel like I can’t meet deadlines. Again, for me, this goes back to not following the through with promises.

- Don’t be afraid to write the ideas you think other people won’t enjoy, write for your own enjoyment. This partially comes from a work I wrote as a gift for someone else for the a gift exchange. I had so much more fun writing this than I thought I was going to! I enjoy watching shows and movies with supernatural elements and never thought I’d ever write this genre in this fandom. I thought I should stick to purely human/realistic writing BUT this is fanfiction and it’s a creative and fun space! Don’t hold back due to letting others peoples’ interest and low numbers speak louder than my your words. And, you never know, there’s most likely someone out there secretly wishing more unique ideas existed!

- Do not discard ideas you’re excited about just because there’s already one like it posted, or if a more well-known writer has written it. I am extremely guilt of this. This entire post could have been shorter if I just wrote “stop being so hard on yourself”. Your base ideas may be similar but that doesn’t mean your mind won’t take it to different places. Writing isn’t a race. If there’s a trope that’s enjoyed, I promise as a reader we want them all!

AO3 Goals: These goals aren’t about the stat numbers, just personal ones I hope to accomplish by the end of the year.

- A new pen name. Yes, I’ve said goodbye to the firstsprinces name for my writing accounts. It is still my main fan account! This one probably seems silly but I think all of you have really amazing names and I look at mine, feeling meh. If this user has been someone else in the past I apologize if this name has once been you/or a friend of yours. I saw that it was available and changed it without the knowledge of it as a once existing account.

- Have at least 8 works posted and completed by the end of the year. This number may seem like nothing to the veterans out there, but since my ideas never stay in a small contained space, this is a number I feel like I can reach. Let’s get through these WIPs that are backlogged!

- Go through every work that’s already posted and save works to “Mark for Later”. I think I stopped on page 19, but I’ll have to start again with all the brand new works that have been shared since my last run through.

- Check for new works daily to add to “Mark for Later”. This way I can follow ongoing works and I won’t have to go through every page of the works.

- Engage with other works and authors. At the end of the day, we’re a community. A community of devoted readers and writers. Put the numbers to the side and spread love and kindness wherever you can! You never know how much a simple engaging gesture will make someone’s day! And you never know what beautiful and chaotic friendships will bloom!

Final Thoughts: I’m already looking forward to seeing what progress I’ll make this year. And have this post saved in a document in hopes of remembering to make a comparison post to see exactly how I did by the end of the year. I always get brain bursts of excitement when it comes to these and have never followed through. Let 2024 be the year!

[mint-yooxgi]

hey, i saw that anon’s ask and that’s really...inconsiderate? for them to say. you have evey right to be angry and i am for you too.

first off, writing so many works in such a short amount of time is so much work! kinktober and then the hotel california series...i can’t even imagine. plot line and storybuilding and character traits, even if it’s just blurbs or shorter things, those takes a lot of thinking. writing is a creative art and takes out a lot from you. after all, it’s bringing to the world what ideas you have in mind and that’s not easy. things like word count...does having more words really make a story better? no.

i know the anon was disappointed but...they need to have realistic expectations and understand that us writers have our own principles when it comes to writing, such as quality > quantity. or that hey, sometimes things fit long and not. i feel like word count doesn’t count as feedback, because feedback to us is about the quality of writing rather than the length. perhaps something more constructive would be “hey, i think you could’ve expanded on this part of taeyong’s character because it would make the story even more interesting!” or “the ending was confusing, maybe you could explain it more”.

but the whole thing about how everyone always wants, expects something grand from us writers...like yeah, requests are fine but some people feel entitled to give the asks like you mentioned that you receive and that’s totally not fair. we writers are humans too and saying that kind of thing really shows how...how it feels to be essentially used as an outputter for content even though i know for a fact most of us write for ourselves and have chosen to share it with the world because we want to. it’s so much more draining and easier to burn out otherwise.

sorry that you have to deal with those kinds of asks. you have every right to be angry and everything.

Y’all really pulled up for the ‘protect and support Jackie’ squad and I'm literally so touched 🥺🥺🥺

You have no idea how validating it is to read this message, I cannot thank you enough. Everything you said - you’ve literally taken the words out of my mouth. There is 100% a proper way to give constructive criticism, but I know so many do not know how to do that. Saying shit like “oh, it wasn’t long enough” isn’t helping, nor does it give a direction to take things in. Exactly like you’ve said!!

I’ve been so grateful to myself lately because of how much I've been able to write. I seriously haven’t had this much time, motivation, or inspiration to write like this in such a long time. I’m still proud of what I've done, and I really appreciate you saying these things. To have such a thing be acknowledged and even praised is so validating, you have no idea. But, like you’ve said, writing this much can really be very mentally draining, too! There have even been some nights where I have to force my eyes open and mentally jog my brain to stay awake to finish a chapter cause I want to get it out that night. It’s both physically and mentally exhausting.

Literally though!!! I can’t count the amount of times where I've been writing a fic and I'll get to the end of a scene and go, “this seemed like it would be longer in my head” but it is what it is, I have to accept that and move on. Yes, a lot of my fics (especially my full length ones) have gotten longer lately, because I've also grown as a writer. However, there are also going to be times where they’re not going to be very long, and I deserve to write those short ones just as much as the longer fics! I deserve mental breaks through writing, and I also deserve to not have people have these unrealistic expectations, as you’ve mentioned, that every fic of mine is going to be something like 20k words. I reiterate, these are technically also drabbles! Drabbles are meant to be short!! Like??????

Don’t get me wrong, when I want them, I do really enjoy receiving certain types of requests, like for drabbles of these kinktober prompts. But just like I have a right to deny a request, I have a right to make a request as long or as short as I want. I’m just glad you reached out to tell me this and it feels so validating to know you feel the same.

Thank you so much for this message, you have no idea how much I appreciate it!!

[nickgerlich]

Twenty-Four Hours To Go

I remember the first time I was exposed to a 24-hour diner. I was at university in Indiana, doing my undergrad. It was also about the same time I became friends with coffee. We’re still good friends.

My dorm mates and I would pile into someone’s car and head to the nearby Waffle House. Now that’s not the familiar Waffle Houses across the southland. No, this was an entirely different Indiana chain more akin to Denny’s. They welcomed us, if only to make the place look more crowded after midnight. Never the mind the fact that we weren’t spending much, and tipping even less.

I was probably exposed to this genre before university, but those kinds of things weren’t important to kids back then. But I fell in love with the notion, and found that I became energized about 1am. Bring on the lists to memorize, my caffeinated soul was ready to do some power studying.

After I moved downstate to Bloomington for grad school, it was newsworthy when the new Kroger store announced they were going to be open 24/7. This was great news for someone who doesn’t like crowds of shoppers. It’s almost Zen-like shopping at 3am, observing all the other zombie-eyed shoppers pushing their trolleys along.

I was hooked, and praise God, Walmart embraced the concept as well. There are 168 hours in the week, and I could pick any one of them to go shopping. That is, until everything came to a screeching halt in March 2020. I need not say more.

With practically everything shut down—depending on your state and locale, of course—the thought of being open eight hours, much less 24 hours, became moot. Curbside was a best-case scenario, if you were able to pivot to new ways of doing old things.

But once the pandemic subsided, and our hunger to return to the old normal began being sated, stores and restaurants were slow to return to 24/7. Even today, there are many businesses that not only have been reluctant to do so, but also have flat out decided they’re not going back.

And it signals what may well be a permanent scar, one among many inflicted by COVID. Consumer behaviors have changed. Available labor has declined. Costs of doing business have increased. It’s the perfect storm for an imperfect situation.

It’s sad, too, because a business that is closed thus has un-performing assets whenever the lights are out and the doors locked. It’s not as bad as it is for churches, many of whom are open for “business” only a few hours on one day of the week. You pay for the whole building as it stands, seven days a week, 24 hours a day. The same goes for real estate taxes and utilities. If you’re not making money, you’re losing it, and the bills go on.

Among the consumer changes are a desire to eat earlier, eat out less, drink less, and not stay out late doing the things we once did. That doesn’t mean we have given up on sporting events, movies, and concerts, though. It just means we do those things less, effectively accepting a little shorter leash on life. COVID taught us to get by on a lot less, and with inflation still among us, we are able to handle it better because we’ve already been down an austere path.

We also learned that we can order online a lot more than what we did pre-COVID. Delivery, whether by courier or third-party driver, became a new normal. Groceries on our doorstep meant that we didn’t have to go at all, even if we rather liked those nocturnal missions. Everything else also on our doorstep meant that all that “shopping-in-our-pajamas” we thought we were doing a lot in the olden days was multiplied many fold.

Maybe I am just getting older, too. While I am not yet one of those home-before-dark senior citizens, I do know that if I am up after 10pm, I am living large. As much as I liked grocery shopping after midnight (there’s an ear worm for those of you who know that old song), I am good with doing it in the afternoon these days.

While some chains, like the southern Waffle House, have returned to full 24/7 operations, others are nowhere near what they once did. I suspect that those days are gone forever, with the realization that maybe—just maybe—we were trying to do too much, even though the alternative is to mourn the hours not spent earning revenues.

Besides, we could all use a little more sleep, and removing the temptation to be out and about may be a gift in disguise. And you can still shop Amazon. You may very well have it on your doorstep by noon tomorrow.

Dr “I’m Good With 15/7” Gerlich

Audio Blog