#{a new beginning; plot}
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levemetal ¡ 2 months ago
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I got Procreate and gave it a test run with some silly AU sketches of course
So have Calamity SJ adopting Hong‘er! Ft. my silly calamity MNQ AU and it’s inevitable conclusion of atticwife Jun Wu in the second pic because I am no longer in control here.
SY tried to be the cool uncle, unfortunately YQY is the cooler uncle so he got the Feng Xin treatment. Binghe about to start beef with a child lmfao.
Ling Wen is new heavenly emperor and I ensure you she is as overworked as ever, but she does not care about heavenly officials marrying calamities anymore. First was YQY, and then Jun Wu. Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan are really not trendstarters here.
#svsss#shen jiu#tgcf#yue qingyuan#qijiu#heaven official's blessing#mxtx svsss#original shen qingqiu#calamity sj#calamity child custody fight au#junmei#I have painfully obvious brainrots and I’m not sorry#basically sj met honger while he was out getting his weekly fill of killing slavers#he saw the kid fight the other kids bullying him and though hold up that one has potential#so begins trying to befriend a wild feral cat. he starts with pouches of food and money#tentatively honger begins to trust sj and his weird pieces of advice that work too well in the streets#they develop feral street rat to feral street rat communication#honger doesnt wish to leave so sj sets up in the shrines of xl with him for a while#teaches him all the important stuff like counting and writing (though his calligraphy stays atrocious despite everyone‘s best efforts)#yqy checks in with his husband and finds him with a child#so naturally he immediately adopts him too#thes both help him learn fighting and all#later honger leaves of his own volition towards the rest of the tgcf plot and qijiu doesn‘t see him anymore for a while#eventually a new ghost king is in the kiln and SJ goes to check out who comes out of the kiln#cue spiderman pointing meme#severe scolding later#honger now hc is adopted back because this is their son#sj even gives him a battle fan which hc ts with just like Sj#i imagine sj would have no complaints about xie lian though. he may be a hissy cat but he can see this is good for both hualian#the black water arc here would be vastly different too cause He Xuan would get emotional support from yqy and sj
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marvelwitchergilmore ¡ 3 days ago
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Friendship In Escape
Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> After escaping a party, you meet Steve Rogers. It's in a simple conversation, you and him find common ground and from that a friendship grows. Question is, will either of you ever find the courage to act of the underlying feelings?
Disclaimer: This is a LONG one. Spoilers ahead for most of the main Captain America/Avengers films from The Avengers. Also, there's probably a lot of plot holes in this fic so we're just gonna ignore them. Slow, slow burn. Angst-y moments. Found family, fluff, taking care of each other. Some swearing. Reader helps Steve adjust to the modern world. Lots of hugging. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes but we're gonna ignore them, too (it's late and I'm pretty sure my brain is fried). Hope you enjoy it <3 Not proof read.
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The party had been humming to life for an hour or more before the honorable host finally showed his face. Dawned in a big name branded suit, Tony Stark stood at the top of the stairs, calling for people to start the party. 
There was meant to be music, laughter, too many drinks and a fight he’ll be able to tell a story about at the next party. And you were sure, by the end of the night, he’d get his wish. 
This party in particular had been the third you’d been dragged along to in the space of a month. It hadn’t changed since you were a child. 
Posh names belonging to posh people with deep pockets and, when the time called for it, had long arms, too. The amount of money that was gathered from parties like this were worth the events being held. 
But never once had you felt comfortable. 
It wasn’t the shoes or the dress. In fact, getting ready was the best part of the night. But being dragged to the same people, with the same stories, being told about the same single people in their family, their sons, nephews, cousins. Being told to stand and take a picture with a smile that will let everyone know how fun the parties are. 
But they weren’t. 
For others they were. But for you? You had more fun spending time alone in the libraries at University, studying, answering company emails and working, mostly, from behind the curtain. 
If you could have done that, you would have avoided the parties all together. Relationships with other businesses were already solidified and had been for almost fifty years. 
So, after the fourth hour of walking around the gala room, standing and being forced to listen to the same conversations that you’d heard your whole life, listening to people be more interested in what Tony Stark had placed around his hosting room, and being introduced to another twenty something with a multi-billion dollar company behind his family’s name, but no integrity, you found your escape. 
“Darling, where are you going?” Your mother asked as you handed her your drink. 
“Just to the bathroom.”
She gave you a smile. “Hurry back. Sandra told me she’s bringing her cousin. Special invite from Mr Stark himself.”
You forced your millionth smile of the night and nodded. “Will do.”
As you took the stairs up towards the upper floors and bathrooms, you looked down over the edge of the balcony. They were preoccupied, listening to somebody’s story. 
Rather than taking a right, you took a left, bumping into a waitress. 
“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
She nodded. “Can I help you with something?”
You looked around you. “Just promise you didn’t see me. I need a break.”
The waitress just smiled. “There’s some rooms that haven't been decorated yet. Just take a right at the end of the hall.”
You looked down the hall, looked back and smiled at her. The first genuine smile of the evening. 
“Thank you.”
She shrugged. “This is my fifth party helping the host. We all need a break every once in a while.”
You thanked her again before walking down the hall. The minute you turned the corner, the party seemed like it was miles away. Every once in a while, you heard a roar of laughter but it never got any louder than that. 
With a sigh of relief, you decided to explore the different rooms. Some had tarp over the entrances, the insides not being suitable to survive at least an hour in. From holes in the floors to fresh paint fumes and drying plaster. 
But then one at the very end of the hall had a door. So, taking your chance, you opened it. 
“Oh!”
Inside stood a man dressed in a woolen style suit, his tie loose around his neck. He looked as if he’d been pacing and deep in thought before you’d opened the door. 
“I-” You looked around you, fearful you were about to get into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone- Sorry.”
“Trying to escape the party, too?”
You stopped trying to close the door and looked at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it; maybe it was the way he stood, maybe it was the tone in his voice or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but you saw something trustworthy in him. 
An unlikely friend in a place where you had none. 
“What gave it away?”
He smiled, softly. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”
You stepped inside. “Thank you.”
“I- I’m Steve, by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it. 
“Y/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
For the second time that evening, you gave a genuine smile. “Likewise. So, what are you hiding from? A match-making mother, or a business minded father?”
“Neither.” Steve laughed a little. 
You walked further into the room before finding a spot with less sawdust on the ground. You’d been on your feet for a long time. You found the perfect spot against a wall between two windows. 
“Wow,” you brushed what sawdust you could with your feet before turning around and tucking the skirt of your dress down. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
He chuckled. “Not a big one.”
You shrugged, stretching your legs out and crossing them at your ankles. You patted the ground beside you. “My parents want me to socialise. I’d say talking with you qualifies as that. I’ve got time.”
Steve smiled as he watched you, finally agreeing to sit beside you. 
And for the first time in almost a month, you weren’t bored. 
Talking and listening to Steve didn’t make you so bored out of your mind you would have rather ran a cross country race. Talking with Steve was the first time you felt comfortable at one of these fancy galas. 
You’d come to learn that he was, in fact, the man they’d dug out of the ice. That he was the soldier lost to time, being forced into a new century without any idea how to deal with it. 
“I know a little of what that’s like,” you admitted to him. “To feel lost. I’ve been attending different parties like this since I was a kid. And never once have I felt comfortable attending them. I can talk to everyone in the room and feel completely loney, but I can sit on my own in a quiet place like this and…feel comfortable and be myself.”
“I had that once.” Steve told you. “I’d say back home, but I’m still in the same country. To be honest, I don’t know what anything is outside of this room.”
Then an idea popped into your head. “I could help.”
“How?” 
You shrugged. “I could help you adjust. I’m no therapist but I know how most things work in the 21st century. Movies, media, books. You said they gave you a document packet?”
Steve nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded over thick document. 
“With all the stores and street names, I don’t recognise anything anymore.”
Opening it up, Steve handed it to you. It had an address, some pictures, different appointments and different wifi codes. 
“I know where this is.”
“You do?” Steve seemed surprised. They’d given him the address three days ago with no instruction on how to find it. They just told him something about Google Maps. Whatever a Google was. 
You nodded. “It looks kinda old.”
Steve shrugged. “‘Guess it’s their way of giving me some familiarity.” 
You shook your head. “When do you move in?”
“End of the week.”
“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I can take the rest of the day – help you move in, if you’d like.”
Steve looked at you. “You’d really do that for me?”
You handed his document back and nodded. “I would. Just because you were given an image for them to control, doesn’t mean that they should take advantage of the person you are behind it all.”
“That’s really kind of you, ma’am.” 
You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”
For an hour more, you and Steve just talked. Filled with quiet laughter and genuine smiles, you and Steve found an unlikely friendship in each other that evening. 
A friendship that would only grow stronger and stronger over the years. 
At the end of that week, you met Steve outside the SI building before walking with him towards the underground and pointing out different landmarks for him to recognise. A university campus, a museum, a deli store that served the best sandwiches. You explained about the times for the trains that headed towards the different states. Finally, walking down the different streets, Steve started to recognise a few different places. New businesses stood in their places, but the bricks around them were the same. 
“Pretty sure I got beat up in that alley.”
You followed Steve’s eye-line before looking back at him. “Bet your mom was beside herself with the amount of times you came home with a black eye.”
Steve held a reminiscent smile on his face as he looked at his shoes. “Just a kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb enough to run away from the fight.”
You watched Steve for a moment; something in his tone told you those weren’t just his words. 
“Come on, we’re almost there.”
You took Steve’s hand, leading him down the street before you both arrived at the apartment block. A couple of younger kids were playing out in the street, kicking a football around until they scored it round the corner of the building, one of their mother’s yelling to play in the back. 
A guy with a coffee cart served passers by heading back from their lunch break, on the corner. 
Unlocking the front door, you and Steve walked up the first few flights of stairs before finally reaching his new home. 
As Steve opened up the door and walked inside, he was met with a living space that probably hadn’t had someone live there…maybe ever. The furniture seemed old, the kitchen table was rusting a little at the bottom of the legs and the curtains had seen better days. 
A few boxes had been stacked by the entrance way with different labels scribbled on them. 
You rifled through them. “Bed sheets, books, clothes.”
You took a note of the size label. “You know, I think one of my friends might have some clothes you’d like. She runs a clothing company that does everything from a vintage style to modern day. I’m sure she’d love to let you rifle through her products; see if there’s anything you’d like to take off her hands.”
You turned around but Steve hadn’t been listening. Instead, he’d been focusing on the case files that were strewn across the kitchen table. 
Standing beside him, keeping your eye on his reactions, you looked down at the table before you came across a picture. You had to take a breath. 
Steve had told you a little about his friends from the war. The Howling Commandos. 
“Is that them?”
Steve nodded.
It took Steve a while to get used to his new apartment, but with your help, he found it becoming a home. You helped him change the bedsheets and work out his washing machine before putting your phone number into his phone. 
“Think of it like a telegram,” you told him. “But rather than waiting weeks to hear back, it’s almost instantly.”
In the weeks that followed, you met Steve at his apartment every few days. On the weekends, you showed him around some of the thrift stores where he’d found a new kitchen table and some dishes to use in the kitchen. 
One of your friends – the same friend that ran a clothing company – had delivered some new curtains. They were plain, but they were better than the ones Steve had been left with. 
Meanwhile, Steve found an old gym where he could spend his evenings and, with your help, had figured out the basics of a phone and computer. 
The one Shield had given him was far too high tech, even for you. So, you had brought Steve one of your old ones. It was still pretty modern, but it was a lot simpler to use than the Stark Industries issued one. 
Then he got pulled into helping Shield with a threat that, to him, would have been best left in the ocean. 
News reports came in thick and fast during the attack on New York. You hadn’t heard from Steve during it, until you nearly ran into him in the middle of the street as mechanical…whatever the hell they were, were flying through the sky. 
“Why are you still in the city?! Everyone needs to get out.”
You nodded. “I know, but people needed help.” You looked down at his shield. “You know how to use that?”
Steve nodded. 
“Can you break a lock with it?”
Steve followed you as you ran down an alley before disappearing around the corner and to an employee entrance. Neither you or Steve could tell what had welded a lock shut, but considering some kind of blue weapon lay not too far out in the middle of the street with similar residue being left of the door, you could only gather it had been some alien technology. 
It took a few tries but the lock finally busted open and a bunch of parents with their kids came flooding out of the doors. As you and Steve started directing people to safety out of the city, you saw the way the kids looked up at Steve. 
The whole image of Captain America had been controlled by the government, making him an image away from Steve Rogers. But nothing could control the way those kids looked up at Steve as their hero. 
A comic book hero that existed in real life. 
“Ma’am, is that everyone?” Steve asked one of the women that left the room. 
She seemed distressed as she looked around. “I-I think so.” Then she ran off with the others. 
Something in your gut told you to check the rest of the room, and Steve followed you inside. 
“Go! Help the others! I can look after myself.”
“But-”
“Steve.” You looked at him. “Go. They need you.”
It took him a minute but he took your word for it and ran back out of the door. Meanwhile, you checked under every table and desk before something caught your eye at the side of one of the cabinets. 
A kid, no older than six. 
“Hey, honey.”
“Mommy was meant to pick me up.”
You looked around, hearing something hit a building nearby. 
“I’ll help you look for her. Can I pick you up?” The kid nodded. “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”
“Sophie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Come on, let's go and find your mom.”
After three hours of destruction over the city, and countless injuries being collected by people, it wasn’t until a mom came running through the crowds of EMTs and doctors, screaming out for her child that you and Sophie, sitting in the back of an ambulance, looked up. 
And Sophie called out. 
Jumping from the bench, Sophie looked outside and saw her mom running through the crowd. You watched as they collided and sank to the ground. 
“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you with the rest of your class? Where are they?”
“Hey,” you said, walking behind Sophie. “They got separated when trying to clear the city.”
“Did you save her?”
“I got her out-” Suddenly, the mom crushed you with a hug. 
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I-” The tears continued to flow from her eyes. 
“It’s alright. All that matters is that she’s safe.”
“Thank you so much.”
Hours later, you had finally made it back home, had showered and switched your TV on. The news had been following updates and different people’s theories of what had happened. 
Then a knock came to your door. 
Upon opening it, you were greeted with a fresher looking Steve Rogers. 
“Shouldn’t you be with a medic?”
Steve smiled, “Shouldn’t you? Between the pair of us, I’m the one who has a serum running through their veins.”
You looked in his hand. “Is that a pizza?”
Steve nodded. “Didn’t know which kind you’d like, so I got the classic. Figured you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
Inviting him inside, Steve laid it on the coffee table. 
“Shouldn’t you be helping The Avengers or something?”
“Avengers?” Steve looked at you with a curious look. 
You just pointed at the screen. “Oh, right. Yeah, we’ve all decided to take a break. But Shield tells me they’ve finally found me a job.”
“That’s something to celebrate.”
Steve shrugged. “Kinda hard to celebrate when an entire city almost got levelled to the ground.”
You understood. “I’m gonna head back tomorrow and see if they need any help.”
“Can I come with you?” 
“You don’t have to ask, Steve.”
He smiled, if a little sheepishly. 
For the rest of the evening, you and Steve shared a pizza and talked until neither of you wanted to say anything else. 
So, you picked out a film and placed it into the DVD player. And you and Steve just sat and watched it. 
As the months passed, you and Steve slipped into a familiar routine. He got better at texting, but you’d come to find he preferred to call. And during the days he was at the training facility in Washington and devoid of signal, he’d write you letters. 
And you wrote them back. 
He’d also started keeping a list, you’d noticed, of things you’d say in passing or you’d tell him to listen to or watch. 
On the quiet afternoons you spent together, Steve would open up more. He told you more about the 40s and being in the army. He told you more about his childhood and his best friend, Bucky. 
You’d surprised him one afternoon by taking him to the Smithsonian. They had a new exhibit put up – one pillar being dedicated to Bucky and his friendship with Steve. 
In one of his final letters, he’d told you of a man he’d basically been trolling on his morning runs. You’d come to find out his name and you smiled. 
Outside of you and the members of his team, Sam Wilson was the first friend Steve had made. 
However, you didn’t get to meet him in person until you got a call from him, under Steve’s contact. Of course, the minute the headline had flashed on your screen, you’d tried to get into contact with him. He’d fallen, or rather, jumped, from an elevator and fallen a hundred feet or more to the ground. His own work seemed to be after him. 
So, when you were told he’d fallen, once more, from one of the jets and had been in surgery, you rushed to him. 
Entering his room, Natasha had been the one to take you to his room after two nurses read your name on his file but wouldn’t let you through. 
“He’s alive, as you can see.”
“If I get a call like this again, telling me you’re dead, I’ll kill you myself.” You warned Steve before you walked to his side. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle. 
“I promise. If I’m gonna die, I’ll ask your permission first.”
From behind you, you heard a voice smile. “I like her.”
“Y/n, this is Sam. Sam, this is Y/n.”
From that day on, the movie and pizza nights came to include both Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to you and Steve, the movie nights also came to include the rest of the team. 
Natasha had been trained to read people. And she’d never read anyone easier than you and Steve. 
And her information soon became Clint’s information which soon became everyone’s information when he accidentally let it slip to the others. 
Tony had been planning a party. Rather, he wanted to throw one and Pepper had come up with a list of people to invite. And when she read out your name, Steve had looked up but Clint had spoken first. 
“Is that Steve’s girl?”
They all looked around at each other before looking at Steve. He had a girl?
Steve faltered. “Yes, well, no. She’s my friend. We’re friends but-”
Tony turned to Pepper. “Invite Steve’s girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. And she doesn’t really like big parties so-”
“Invite her anyway. I can’t believe Clint knows about her before we do.” Then he turned to Natasha. “I suppose you already knew.”
She just nodded. 
And that was just the start of it. 
A few nights later, Steve had given you a heads up which you appreciated but it did put you on edge a little. But all in all, it was…fun. 
It was the first time you enjoyed yourself at a party and didn’t hate every minute of it. 
Firstly, the attire was fancy but not gala fancy. It was a celebration of Hydra finally being overthrown from Shield.
You arrived in your heels that didn’t hurt your feet so much, wide legged trousers and a graphic t-shirt. 
“Now, who is that?”
At the bar, Rhodey, Thor, Tony and Maria all stood watching as you entered the room, clearly looking for someone. Tony and Rhodey had met most of the building at the party. Maria had met them all – at the very least, she had a file on them all. 
But not on you. 
From behind the bar, Natasha leaned over. “That’s Steve’s girl.”
From the bar they watched as Sam noticed you first and called you over. You looked relieved at seeing a familiar face. Even more relieved at seeing Steve. Tony watched as Steve noticed you, too. 
The game of pool Steve had been winning at suddenly took a dip as his aim went off kilter, his attention immediately going to you. 
“Steve has a woman?” Thor asked, the other just nodded. “Well, we must meet her.”
However, as they all went to walk towards the pool table, Maria reached her hand out. “You boys swarm her, Steve will make sure you never get to speak to her again. I will go.”
And so she did. 
The others watched on as Steve introduced you to Maria, every protective instinct a man got when introducing his girlfriend to the rest of his family going up. And somehow, with simple ease, Maria had gained a small part of your friendship and led you towards the second bar. 
Meanwhile, Steve watched as you walked away, the heart in his eyes never leaving. Not even when Sam nudged him and they got back to the game. 
Throughout the night, Steve kept his eye on you. 
He almost broke the sound barrier by how quickly he turned up at your side when you were dragged into the conversation circle with most of them. 
“So, tell me.” Tony said, sitting beside you. “How did you meet our fellow Captain?”
“Tony.” Steve warned, though no true malice could be traced in his voice. 
You smiled. “It’s okay. We actually met at one of your parties.”
Tony sat back. “Really?”
You nodded. “Some fancy gala a few years back.”
Conversation between yourself and the rest of the group seemed to take a natural flow until eventually, all your nerves had subsided. 
But that didn’t stop you from needing a break by the end. Between talking with Natasha, Maria and Thor for most of the night, and beating Sam at a few rounds of pool – something Steve found incredibly entertaining,
Tony had backed Sam on his idea that you were cheating. Nobody won that many rounds of pool one after the other. So, as the others gathered and watched the game, Steve stepped forward and he covered your eyes. 
For a moment you looked up at him and smirked, and he smiled back with a light shrug of his shoulders. 
“Yes, thank you, Cap.” Sam said. “See. This will prove that she’s cheat-”
As you hit the white cue ball, everyone watched and was left speechless as every ball suddenly found its home in the pockets, leaving you with an automatic victory. 
Opening your eyes once more and standing up, you looked at the pool table with a proud look before looking at Sam. You’d never seen him as shocked. Looking at Steve, he seemed shocked but also proud. 
“Still think I’m cheating?” 
Tony just looked at you. “She’s a witch. She had to be. Were you cursed as a child? Born to some Vampire in Europe or something?”
Steve chuckled, as did you. 
“Come on, Tony. Accept your defeat.”
As the hours passed, eventually you found yourself outside on the balcony, taking a breather from the party. 
“Figured you’d find some place quiet.”
You stood back up, holding onto the balcony bar. “Hey.”
Steve smiled. “Hey. You okay? They can be a bit much.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s not that. Just needed a minute. You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed myself at one of these?”
Steve looked up at the building before looking back at you with a smile on his face. “It is better when people aren’t trying to show you off.”
You nodded with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for escaping the last one and finding me in that room.”
It was in that moment that you realised the last time you’d gone to any kind of gala or party of the same scale was the first time you’d met Steve. 
You smiled fondly at the memory. “Thanks for not being mad when I opened the door.”
“I could never be mad at you.”
“You didn’t even know me.”
Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a good judge of character.”
You felt yourself chuckle before you looked out across the rest of the city before a cold wind blew through making you shiver. 
“Here,” Steve shrugged off his jacket but before you could tell him you were fine, he placed it over your shoulders. 
It smelt of him. 
“Thanks.”
Steve just nodded with a smile watching as you placed your arms through the holes and wrapped it a little tighter around yourself before you looked out at the rest of the city with him. 
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Is something going on between Maria and Sam?”
Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “She’ll eat him alive.”
“He might be into that.” 
Steve laughed and closed his eyes in disgust. “What makes you ask?”
You shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Though, of course, that’s when she’s not looking. When she is, it's like I’m back at school rehearsing for Much Ado About Nothing.”
Steve’s joy widened. “You were in a play?”
You laughed. “I wasn’t any good. I was only put on stage because my folks donated so much money to the school. All I wanted was to work with Tech.”
Steve chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that. But, I get what you mean about Sam and Maria. Who knows? If the timing is right…”
Steve looked at you and you felt something bigger was being hidden behind his words. Part of you certainly held out hope that there was. 
“We should probably get back inside.”
An hour later, most people had gone home so it was left with just Steve, yourself, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Tony, Rhodey and Thor. 
Still wearing Steve’s jacket, you were sitting in the middle of the sofa, your legs curled towards your chest. After he stood up, Steve came back and handed you a beer before he nudged your legs allowing him room to sit down before he pulled them across his lap. 
It was the standard procedure for you and him to sit on a sofa together. Mainly because his sofa in his old apartment had been small enough to do so. 
Despite changing apartments and the sofa, it was just something that stuck. 
The others took silent note of it as the debate continued between Thor and Clint over his hammer. 
By the time everyone was trying to lift it, Steve became one of the last. Sharing a look with you before looking at Thor, Steve stood up and tried to lift it. 
You watched as it squeaked on the table for a moment, but moved no further. However, your knowing grin – despite it never truly lifting from the table – caused you to look at Thor. 
He looked panic stricken. 
But Steve stood back and held his hands up. 
“Or…you’re all not worthy.”
“It’s still a trick!”
In the moments that followed, everyone turned to their own conversations; including you and Steve. 
But Clint and Natasha kept their eyes on you and Steve. Your legs over his lap, wearing his jacket, his focus solely on you, his hand rubbing lightly against the bottom of your leg that was exposed under your wide-legged trousers, your ever loving gaze on his that matched yours, light and soft smiles on your faces. 
“Ten bucks says they’ll be married in two years.” Clint whispered up to Natasha. 
“Deal.”
Something that Clint didn’t know, that Natasha did, was that you and Steve were fucking oblivious. 
They’d all be lucky if it happened in two years. 
Quite frankly, it should have happened two years ago. 
Suddenly, a high pitched noise rippled through the room. 
“Of course you’re not all worthy…”
Your eyes landed on an oil leaking…zombie robot?
His voice was deep and menacing and nothing about any of it felt comforting. 
“Steve?”
“Stark?”
“Jarvis?”
In a single turn of events you’d gone from laughing and joking with each other to suddenly defending yourself against a robot who claimed he’d killed someone. 
A swarm of them flew in through broken glass panels and Steve kicked up a table before any of them could hit either of you. 
You landed on the floor beside him, a little winded. 
“Are you okay?”
You nodded. “I’m okay. Go, go, go. I’ll be fine.”
Steve helped you up before running off in the other direction. It was a whirlwind of blasts, bullets and shattered glass. 
At one point, one had you cornered as Tony unhooked another. And for a moment, you thought you’d be sent flying out of the window and out into the open before Steve took hold of it, throwing it back towards Thor before Clint threw him his shield. 
And it all ended as Thor sent his hammer flying through Ultron. 
“What the fuck was that?”
“Banner.” Tony called him over before they headed towards their lab. 
Meanwhile, Steve turned around before heading straight towards you and holding you in his arms, almost lifting you from the ground. 
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, letting the scent of him, his clothes, his jacket, calm you. 
“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”
Steve truly breathed for the first time since the high pitched noise had rang through the room. With a hand at the back of your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple and he closed his eyes. 
“Come on, let's go and find the others.”
However, as he took your hand, you pulled him back. “Steve.”
“Right, you-you’ll want to go home-”
You shook your head. “It’s not that. You’ve got glass in your arm.”
“Oh.”
“Does Tony have tweezers in his lab?”
Steve nodded. “I think so.”
Less than five minutes later, you sat Steve in one of the chairs, Bruce handing you and Maria a set of tweezers each. 
Staring with his arm, you plucked out the small fragments of glass before his skin healed over them, before holding his palm up to face you. Meanwhile, they began discussing the extinction of The Avengers and the possibility of nuclear codes getting out to the rest of the world.
Then rage got passed around the room. 
By the time morning rolled around, Steve drove you back home.
“Whatever happens…” You looked at Steve, a small voice in the back of your head begging for him to be imprinted in your memory as if he hadn’t already. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Steve nodded. “I promise. You’re the only one that can kill me, remember?”
You felt yourself laugh. At least he remembered. 
Looking at him again, you hugged him. “I mean it, Steve. Please be safe.”
He hugged you back, the feeling of him strong enough for you to still feel hours later. 
“I promise.”
Each day you didn’t hear from him was a little more worrisome than the last. And then when the media reported Shield helping evacuate people from a floating country…all you could do was hope Steve wasn’t one of the casualties. 
“Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Barton’s book.”
“The simple life?”
“You’ll get there one day. Maybe you could get there with Y/n?”
Steve couldn’t deny he hadn’t thought about it once or twice. You and him. Together. More than friends. A part of him did think you felt it too. The same spark. Familiarity. The same love. 
“If something was gonna happen, it would have happened by now.” Steve told him. “Besides, I think the guy that wanted all that went into the ice seventy five years ago.”
Tony shrugged. “Don’t count on it. That guy is still there somewhere. See you ‘round, Rogers.”
As Tony drove away, Steve took in the building in front of him. And despite the acceptance he felt of being home, the idea of you and him…he figured that would always be with him. 
Even if it never happened. 
That night, Steve turned up outside your apartment with the next movie on his list and a case of soda. However, when you didn’t answer, he went in search of you. 
Opening the door to the roof, he looked around before spotting you in the very corner, sitting on the table of the picnic bench. 
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Looking around, you gave a sigh of relief at seeing him. He dropped the case on the table before you reached for him. 
“Thank god you’re okay.”
“How long have you been up here?”
“Since Nat called me and told me you’d landed. I couldn’t sit in my apartment anymore so…I came up here. Last time I looked out at the city was before everything went to hell.”
Steve looked out at the city himself before looking back at you. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Ross is probably about to reign hellfire down on…everyone.”
“What about the girl?”
“Wanda?”
You nodded. 
“I don’t know. She went through a lot, losing her home and her brother in one fowl sweep.” 
“You should train her.”
“What?”
“Train her,” you repeated. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be in a war, to sign up to be experimented on. She’s gonna need someone who actually understands some of what she’s going through.”
Steve agreed with you. You had a point. 
“Tony can have a lot of influence and his heart can be in the right place but he doesn’t always remember that people didn’t have his childhood or his life.”
“He’s been through a lot.”
You agreed with Steve. “He has. But he’s never lost a brother, or his life to somebody’s cause. She’s gonna need help.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The rest of the evening was spent talking over what had happened, what Steve had thought when the earth quite literally started to lift from beneath him, what had happened with Banner and Nat and then you gave him your news. 
Bucky had been spotted. 
The next time you saw Steve was at Agent Peggy Carter’s funeral. You sat at the back for most of it, watching as Steve helped carry the coffin and as people gave their eulogies. 
You didn't know much about Peggy Carter personally, though you could remember learning about her in school. The founder of Shield, working alongside Captain America in her early career. And from meeting Steve, you’d come to know more about her. As well as how deeply both she and Steve were in love. 
You’d seen the clips at the museum, and with Steve beside you, it gave them a whole other meaning. And even though Steve living through the ice and landing himself in the 21st century had given you one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had, part of you felt angry for him. 
Angry at the fact he missed out on his chance with Peggy and that she had to live a life where, as far as anyone knew, Steve was dead. 
A soldier and a love story left stranded in time. 
You could remember when Steve had first visited Peggy, again. 
And now he had to say goodbye, again. 
“It was a beautiful service.”
Steve looked up and down the aisle to where you were walking towards him. He felt the breath get knocked out of him. Or maybe back into him. 
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Thought you could use a friendly face?”
 A silent conversation then took place between you and Steve. Silent conversations weren’t unusual between you. A thousand words could be said in a look, but you’d both understand.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after I leave here-”
“No, I know. I know.” You understood completely. After he walked out of the church, Nat would be leaving without him. 
“Today’s been a lot. Tomorrow’s gonna be a lot.” You looked back at Steve. “Right now can just be…right now. You’ve lost someone, Steve. Right now you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t have to be Captain America right now.” Your gaze turned to Peggy’s picture. “I might not have met her, but I know you and I both know she would be telling you, you don’t have to be Captain America right now. At this moment, you’re just Steve: World War Two veteran who has just lost a great love in their life and deserves a moment to breathe.”
Steve gave you a weak smile, his emotions building up in his chest. “Thank you.”
Stepping forward, you wrapped Steve in a comforting hug and for the next twenty minutes, you both stayed inside the church. 
There he told you the smaller facts about Peggy – the ones he’d learnt when she was with him and his Howling Commandos. 
But then the time came to leave. 
Walking down the different streets, hearing time tick away, you and Steve soaked up what time you could before everything was about to go to shit. 
And on a bench beside the River Thames, you and Steve said your goodbyes. Both of you knew something was going to go wrong. What that was exactly, neither of you could put your finger on it. But something was going to happen. 
It was only a matter of time. 
“Here.” 
“What’s this?”
Steve read the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates. 
“I own a house. It’s in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Europe. If anything happens, Ross can’t touch you. The house had been in my family’s name for generations but one of my great aunt’s left it to me. It’s yours to use.”
“Y/n-”
“Take it, Steve. Nobody knows it exists so they won’t find you. It’s run down but there should be running water.”
Steve finally accepted it. “Thank you. You know, if Tony ever finds out about this, he’s gonna believe that you are a witch from a vampire family.”
You shrugged. “Maybe I am, you just don’t know it.”
Steve shrugged, pocketing the paper safely. 
“I’m gonna miss you.”
You took his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”
You tried your best to avoid the tears, but they were trying their hardest anyway. 
“Just promise me one thing, Steve.”
Steve nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Be safe?”
You nodded. “Be safe.”
Your eyes locking with his, Steve decided to take a risk. There was a chance he might never be able to see you again. Whatever was going to happen, the first person they’d put a tail on would be you. 
He kissed you. 
With your hand on his lapel, you held him closer. It was short and bittersweet, but the memory of him and his kiss would forever be seared into your brain. 
And for a few moments, you just held onto each other, fearful of opening your eyes and accepting that one of you would have to walk away. 
With his finger, Steve gently brushed the stray hair from your face away and behind your ear before kissing you quickly for a second time. 
“One of us has to say goodbye.”
“I know,” you sniffed. “I know.”
“If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it's that you walked into that room when you did. You were the first person to treat me like one and to help me. Thank you for wanting to escape that party.”
You laughed through the tears. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s crazy to think I almost didn’t go.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“So am I.”
Looking at each other for one final time, you leaned in and kissed him. You prayed that his hand by your waist would leave a brand – a different pain to carry with you than the one in your heart. 
Feeling yourself stand, the kiss broke away and you were the first to say goodbye. 
Walking down the stone pavement, you looked behind you before you turned a corner, only to find Steve had already gone. Between the bustling people, the bench you’d both just been sitting at was exactly that. 
A bench. 
Going home, you tried to find a way to keep yourself busy but no matter where you looked, everything reminded you of him. The movies you’d watched with him, the ones you didn’t. The pizza’s shared, and soda spilt, the curtain, bedsheets, books, clothes, pictures. 
You had some of his artwork in your house. Some of them people, most of landscapes – people and places you’d seen together. 
And in an album under your bed, you had his letters. 
Each one in its original envelope on one page and the pictures he’d drawn of the skyline from wherever he’d been. 
Some evenings, you’d reread his letters – still able to hear his voice. 
Then the headlines started to roll in. 
Captain America was a fugitive and had broken his team out of a high secure facility. 
And for almost two years a hunt was put on for him. You were interviewed every couple of months with the same questions. 
Did you know where he was? Had he contacted you? What information did he share with you?
Just because you’d given him a set of coordinates didn’t mean he’d use them. The last time you’d heard from Steve was in London and the only information he’d shared with you that day was about Peggy Carter and some of the old stories of when he was first in London in the 40s. 
In the meantime, your parents had convinced you to attend different dinner parties, charity shows, fundraisers and galas, all the while helping you find a date. 
Most of the people your mother had first introduced you to years ago, they were recently married. But the single ones she’d found; you dated some, though it never went any further than a sixth date – usually the date after your parents invited them to attend dinner. 
But no matter the fancy meal, or the conversation, or the man; none of them could beat a pizza, soda, a movie and…
Steve. 
None of them could beat Steve. 
But that all changed one afternoon when you were gardening. 
Living in the city had reminded you too much of Steve, and with the constant reminders of the memories and new threats and superheroes popping up, you decided to find somewhere nice to live. 
Someplace…simple. 
So, buying a house outside of the city with a few acres of land, you started renovating. Any business meetings you had could be done online which meant you had more time to fix your new home up. 
The smell of plaster, paint and sawdust filled your home for most of the days until finally things started to come together. New windows and locks were installed, the faulty taps were fixed and finally the entire place was given a new lease of life. 
And just as you were half way through with fixing your garden; planting some flowers and digging patches for a small allotment, a car pulled up outside your drive. 
On your knees in the dirt, it took a moment for your eyes to focus on the person climbing out of the car in the distance. 
They were tall, broad and had a beard. 
However, the closer they got, memories started to kick in. The walk, the frame…
You stood up and walked closer until you stopped again, feeling the breath being knocked out of you. 
“Oh, my god…”
He watched as you stopped in your tracks, your brain confirming who he was. Then you started running. Across the grass and onto the gravel path, you collided with Steve. 
“This is you, I’m not dreaming, am I?”
Steve shook his head and he held onto you, the essence of you filling his senses. 
“No, you’re not dreaming.”
You leaned back and looked at him before hugging him again. 
Finally, Steve set you back onto your feet and his hands remained at your waist. 
“Why are you back? Last I heard…”
“The team and I are keeping our distance for a few days. Nat’s headed to Ohio and Sam is trying to see his sister. It’s the best way to avoid Ross.”
You nodded, checking him over. He didn’t seem like he was dying. 
With a hand on his cheek, you smiled a little, pointing out the obvious. “You grew a beard.”
Steve smiled a little. “Helps me blend in.”
You looked into his eyes and smiled. “It suits you.”
Holding gently onto your wrist, Steve turned his head and kissed your palm and for a second you closed your eyes, leaning into him. 
“I’m really glad you’re okay.”
Placing your hand over his heart, Steve seemed to bear into your soul. “So am I.”
What followed was two hours of conversation around where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left, and what you had been doing. 
Then he started to help. Painting the porch on the back of the house as you continued planting in the back garden, you spent time together. 
Time that was all too precious knowing he was on a clock. 
“Where did you learn to cook?” You asked Steve as you helped him chop up veg. 
With a smile on his face, Steve continued to prepare dinner. “I have a contact in Scotland. Their aunt runs a cafe and needed a few extra hands in the kitchen.”
As you helped Steve prepare dinner, you listened to the stories he’d gathered over his time away. Scotland, Spain, Germany, Italy, England, Poland, Norway, and many others. 
Once dinner was finished, you started to clean up. But from the table, Steve looked at you standing by the sink in front of the window. 
You’d never left his thoughts. 
Sat on that bench in London, he watched you walk away and for a moment, he remained where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again – not without heavy restrictions. 
He wanted you so desperately to turn around, but if you did, he would have followed you. He would have stood up and ran after you. 
So he left. 
He left before you could look around, he left before he would stop fighting himself and follow you. 
And each day he woke up, for the few moments in the morning where he would forget what had happened, where he would forget the world he’d been found in, he thought about you. He thought about calling you or writing you a letter. He thought about seeing you when he’d roll over in bed. But each time…
You weren’t there. 
You weren’t with him. 
You were at your home, thousands of miles from him. 
And he had no way of talking to you. 
Walking across the kitchen floor to you, he placed a hand on your waist before reaching across to the window cill. 
“What are you doing?” You smiled. 
Looking at you and turning up the dial, Steve smiled. “Come with me.”
Taking the cloth from your hand, Steve dropped it back into the bowl of soapy water and took your hand in his. Then, pulling you into the middle of the kitchen with him, you both started to slow dance. 
“What’s this for?”
Steve shrugged, holding your hand over his heart once again. “I don’t know how long I’ve got with you. Figured we could spend it not washing up.”
You felt yourself smile. “I think I like that.”
It was soft and slow. Swaying with the beat until the radio turned static, you and Steve remained in each other's arms. 
“Can you stay the night?”
Steve nodded. 
“Good.”
The night soon settled over your home, the stars slowly emerging from behind the clouds. With your porch taking on a blue hue in its own shadow, you and Steve sat side by side on your porch swing. 
Your hair still a little damp from your shower, Steve continued to run his fingers through it. And with your head on his chest, you let his heart beat calm you. For a moment, Steve turned his nose into your hair and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
After a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Not that you would have heard anything considering your body was begging for sleep. 
Carefully standing, Steve slipped one of his arms around your back and one under your legs before carrying you inside. He tucked you under your bed covers before making his rounds, locking up the doors and windows. Finally, he got in beside you. 
For years, he’d dreamed of it. 
Being with you, by your side, a domestic and loving day before laying beside you knowing he would be waking up beside you every morning. 
And Steve smiled as in your sleep you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping across his middle. 
You couldn’t remember when you’d gone from the porch to your bed, but you could remember Steve. Feeling his arms around you, his heartbeat under your cheek, his lips on yours…
“Hey,”
Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs, fully dressed. 
“Hey, what time is it?”
Steve kept his eyes on you. “A little after four.”
You gave a groan and closed your eyes again. Steve chuckled. Reaching out, he gently swept the hair from your eyes, your head turning towards him. With his hand on your cheek, he felt your smile. 
It was your turn to hold onto him and kiss his palm. 
And just as the knowing sadness started to grow, Steve still smiled, leaning forward and kissed you. 
You would never get bored of his kiss.
Peppering it out, you held onto his face before your hands slipped around his back and you held him closer. 
With a sigh, Steve held you closer to him, trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms. 
Trying your best to ignore the growing tears, you spoke. 
“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”
Steve chuckled a little. “You know you’re the only one who's allowed to kill me. But I promise.”
“Good.”
Holding on a little tighter, you silently begged for more time with him. But the clock was ticking. 
From above, there was deep rumbling. 
“You better go,” you told Steve. 
It took him a moment before he let go and with one final kiss, it was his turn to say goodbye. 
Hearing his boots walk across the floor of your bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and towards your front door. 
You heard his pause for a moment and in that moment, you wondered what he would do if you called out for him. 
But he couldn’t stay any longer. 
People needed him. 
The world needed him. 
Hearing your front door click open, Steve’s footsteps trailed off as it closed once more until eventually the only sound that was left was the ever quieting sound of a rumbling jet engine.
Six months later, half of the world disappeared. 
With a snap of Thanos’ fingers, Steve watched as half of his team, his family, disappeared. And upon returning back to the Avengers’ compound, you were his first call. 
Only, you never answered. 
“Go.” Natasha told him. 
He didn’t need to be told twice. 
Making a break for it, Steve ran down into the garage before hopping on his bike. He’d made it to yours in half the time. 
Pulling up, he started calling out for you. His voice filled with desperation and fear, he ran up to your front door. 
It was unlocked. 
He almost tripped inside as he tried the door, the hinges getting stuck. 
“Y/N!”
He raced around your home; checking the kitchen, living room, pantry, washing room, office, bathroom, and the bedrooms before finally reaching yours. 
The bedding was strewn a little, the soft lines of the fitted sheet folded into where you would have been laying. The pain in Steve’s chest seemed to grow heavier by the minute. 
You weren’t here. 
One hand on his hip, another covering his mouth, Steve turned around in a slow circle. Tears pricking at his eyes, his mind had gone from running a thousand miles a minute to…being completely overrun by pain. 
He had nearly a thousand chances to be with you, to share a life with you that he’d always dreamed of – all before everything went to hell. 
But it was too late. 
You were gone. 
Just like half of the world, you were gone. 
Gripping onto the cold metal of your bed frame, Steve tried to steady himself. 
You were gone. 
Somewhere behind him, he heard a click. 
His entire body stilled. 
Slowly turning around he found…
No one. 
Somewhere down the hall, a door closed. 
As quietly as he could, Steve walked from your bedroom and down the hallway. The noises started to compile together. 
Shoes shuffling, a bag being thrown onto a counter, a bucket handle rattling against itself. 
From a corner, Steve saw an apron thrown across the back of a kitchen chair. A tap started to pour before someone switched it off. 
Then someone started to hum. 
You started to hum. 
Fully stepping into the kitchen doorway, Steve felt the entire life get knocked back into him. 
Then you turned around. 
He scared the shit out of you. 
The bucket slipping out of your hand, it knocked against your sink, the water spilling down the drain. 
Just as it did, you recognised him. 
Rushing forward, Steve enveloped you into his arms, your feet lifting from the ground. 
“You’re alive,” you breathed. 
“I thought you were gone.” Steve mumbled into your shoulder, holding onto you tighter. 
“Steve, what’s going on?”
“He won.” 
Steve set you back down on your feet and for the first time in almost seven months, you finally got a good look at him. He looked tired, worn. Beaten. 
“We almost did it, but he won.”
“Whose left?”
Steve tried his best to name those who were left. 
“We think Tony’s gone but we can’t be sure.”
The tears were falling from Steve’s cheeks as he told you. Wiping them away, you pulled him back into a hug. 
“I tried calling you but when you didn’t answer…” You could feel Steve’s entire body shaking under you. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Steve, honey, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water.”
As you sat him down, Steve watched as you moved around your kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, running the tap until it was cold before handing it to him. 
“I’ll make you some food. When did you last eat? You should call Nat.”
“Right.”
After calling and updating Nat, Steve hung up the phone. And for the next few hours, Steve talked you through everything he could; right up to him running through your door. 
In the months that followed, a transition started to take place. People had to get used to a world where half of the people they loved were gone. 
And somewhere between Steve finding you in your kitchen and Tony and Pepper having their daughter, yourself and Steve finally came together. 
Properly. 
This time there were no goodbye kisses and fear of never seeing each other again. That biggest fear had been and gone. 
What you were left with was…acceptance. 
Acceptance that you had both almost completely lost each other for good. There was no point in avoiding feelings, or being scared of what might happen. 
You both had a chance at a life together. 
So you both took it. 
From then on your home with Steve became interchangeable between the Avengers compound and your house. Saving her from the lifetime supply of peanut butter sandwiches, you dragged Natasha when you could to your home with Steve and made her a decent meal. 
Being out in the open also gave her a breath of fresh air away from the training facility walls that never changed colour. 
And eventually things…settled. 
People found a new way of life, coming back each year to celebrate those who were lost. And then new life was brought into the mix. 
Not too long after Pepper had given birth to Morgan, you were faced with a positive pregnancy test result yourself. 
And Natasha was your first call. 
“What’s going on? I have an extra gun in the car if we need it.”
You showed it to her. “What does that show?”
“Holy shit, you’re pregnant.”
A small whimper left your lips as you handed her the test stick and started pacing around your bathroom. 
“Are…are we not happy about that?”
You whimpered again as you paced up and down. “I-I don’t know. We-we haven’t planned anything. I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but what if something goes wrong? Are you sure it was positive?”
Natasha looked back at it. “Well, it’s got a plus sign so-”
“It’s the third I’ve taken this week. The other two came up invalid but that one was like a bright flashing light.”
Reaching for you by the shoulders, Natasha sat you down. “Okay, first off, breathe.”
You did so. 
And then some more. 
“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go and get you another box of tests. Proper ones, not these things. And you’re gonna call Steve.”
“He’ll probably pass out. Why do you think I called you?”
Natasha laughed. “Just call him. I’ll be right back.”
And she was. 
Walking back inside, she called out and Steve called back. 
Three minutes later, you were all huddled in the bathroom waiting for the result to finally show. 
“What if it’s a false positive? If it’s positive-positive, will I be able to carry the baby?”
Crouching down in front of you, Steve held your hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”
You took a breath and nodded. Leaning up, Steve kissed you and you kissed him back. 
You’d been having conversations about starting a family together for a while, but neither of you had started planning it just yet. Mostly because you hadn’t gotten around to it. And you didn’t know if you could even carry Steve’s kid. For all either of you knew, the serum would carry onto your child. 
Natasha looked at her phone. 
“It’s time.”
With a shaky breath, you and Steve stood. However, you paused as you reached for the test. 
“Count me down.”
Steve chuckled softly, counting back from three. 
After one, you turned it over. 
Pregnant 3+ weeks
You felt yourself smile and laugh a little before showing Steve. 
“You’re gonna be a dad.”
Taking the test from your hands, Steve took one look at it before the water-works started. 
Nine months later, inside the Avengers compound, Natasha was walking with you. 
“Once they started arguing over what the manual said, I made a break for it.”
Tony had surprised you and Steve at your home and after an hour, Steve had wrangled him in to help build the crib. It was the final thing that needed to be built and since Steve had banned you from lifting heavy things since you had elected to ignore your midwife and pushed the crib from the living room and into the nursery. You couldn’t help. 
“Have you decided on a name yet?”
You shook your head. “Not yet.”
“Well, I might be biassed but Natasha is a really good name.”
You laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”
Natasha smiled, holding onto your hand as she helped you down one of the narrower steps. 
However, halfway around the building, you stopped. 
“Everything okay?”
You nodded. “Just a bit of cramp.”
But it wasn’t just cramp. 
Barely a second later, you felt water trail down your leg until there was a louder splash against the tiles. 
“Oh, shit.”
You looked down. “Oh, my god.”
“Okay, okay. We’re okay.”
You nodded, taking hold of her hand as she walked you down the hall. 
“Steve’s old room is just down the hall. Once we get you there-”
“Call him.”
“I know, I will.”
“No, call him now. Please.”
Twenty minutes later, Tony’s car was kicking gravel up and onto the windshield. Steve ran inside, nearly taking out a few employees on the way. 
Almost fifteen hours later, a healthy baby girl was delivered. 
With her in Steve’s arms, bundled in a fresh baby blanket, everyone stood around the bed. 
“Only took you a decade.”
Steve chuckled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his daughter. And neither could you. 
And for almost four years, it was blissful. 
As your daughter grew up, Steve told her stories and showed her pictures of the 40s. Even at the age of three, she seemed wise beyond her years. 
Then one night, everything changed. 
Recently, she hadn’t been sleeping. So, lay in bed with you whilst Steve was still at work, you told her a few bedtime stories but when Steve came in an hour or so later, he found her still awake. 
“You should be asleep,” he whispered to her. 
“I tried. Mommy fell asleep, though.”
Steve looked over and smiled. “Come on, let your mom sleep.”
Picking his daughter up, Steve carried her down the hall, leaving his jacket on the bed beside you. Making sure to close the door behind him, Steve started to talk to his daughter. 
Their conversation eventually turned to someone from Steve’s past. 
“Daddy, whose that?”
Steve looked at the photo. It was him and Bucky during his army days, though both were out of uniform and in civilian clothing. There weren't many pictures of Bucky in normal clothes. 
“That’s Uncle Buck.”
“But he’s not in green.”
Steve chuckled. “You’re right, he’s not. That was when we were in London. Pinky, one of the Howling Commandos, decided to take us on a tour of London.”
“Wow.” 
She was awe-struck. 
“Does he know I was born?”
Steve felt a pang in his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I’ve told him.”
“Would he like me?”
Steve smiled. “He’d love you.”
Kissing her temple, Steve sat down in one of the chairs. “Try and get some sleep.”
Steve himself must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew, you were waking him up. Your daughter was still fast asleep, he carried her to bed before you led him down the hall and he collapsed onto your shared bed. 
The next time he woke up that morning, everything you both knew was about to change. 
Time Travel. 
There was a chance everyone could be brought back. 
And after a long conversation, one that was overheard by your daughter who had been playing in the back garden with the family dog, Steve accepted what he had to do. 
“You and Aunty Nat will have pictures again.”
Handing Steve a slightly mud scattered, crinkled, crayon drawing; your daughter had drawn a picture with everyone on it. 
Herself, you, the dog, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam with his wings, Clint with his bow and arrow, Thor and his hammer, Tony, Bruce…the stick men with different items, standing on a green field with a corner sun, continued on and on. 
It was that night you kissed Steve and he said what could have been his final goodbye to your daughter. She held onto him tightly, telling him she loved him. The only thing that carried him on his feet was the thought of going through what Scott was. 
In the time he got stuck, he thought his daughter was gone. 
Steve would have done anything to get his daughter back. 
And it didn’t take much for him to remember the pain that washed through and over him when he thought he lost you. 
Scott, like many others, had lost someone they loved. So had Steve. But he hadn’t lost you, though he thought he did. 
People needed their families back. 
And that’s what they got. 
At the cost of Tony’s life. 
After everything had settled, you drove as fast as you could to find Steve. And you found him far outside of the Avengers compound, crouched on the floor. 
“Steve!? Steve!”
Looking up, he spotted you amongst the grey smoke. A shining light in the darkness. 
Running as fast as you could, you eventually reached him. 
“I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if you were okay. Are you okay?”
Steve’s voice was quiet. “He’s gone.”
“Gone? Who’s gone?”
Steve’s voice broke. “T-tony. Tony’s gone.”
“Oh, my god.”
As Steve hugged you, you held him as tightly as you could. He asked about your daughter. 
“She’s with my dad back home. She’s safe. She just needs a cuddle from her dad.”
Steve nodded. “I think I need one from her, too.”
Two weeks later, Steve brought Bucky and Sam home. 
“Honey, come here.” Your daughter ran to her dad’s side. “Sam, Buck. I’d like you to meet Aurora. Rory, honey, this is Sam and Bucky.”
Sam knelt down and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, miss.”
Meanwhile, Bucky was in pure shock. Slowly, he knelt beside Sam and Bucky felt his life flash before his eyes. 
“Steve…she looks like your mom.”
As Rory studied Bucky, she decided to hug him. Sam smiled and so did you and Steve. And eventually Bucky hugged her back, frightened he might break her. 
“Can I show them my room?”
The consensus was yes and whilst Sam was dragged towards her bedroom, Rory shouting for you to follow, Bucky and Steve followed behind. 
Inside her room, her walls were covered in different pictures she’d drawn of the different stories Steve had told her. Of course, most of them were stick men, but the message was still clear. 
A week later, a funeral was held for Tony and the Stones had to be returned. 
Standing beside Bucky as Steve stood on the platform, Aurora stood and waited in between both of you. 
And in what was a few seconds later, Steve returned with Natasha by his side. 
Aurora gasped and bolted forward. 
“Aunty Nat!”
“Careful, kiddo.” Steve warned just before Aurora collided with her, but Natasha shook her head. 
“It’s okay.” 
Lifting her into her arms, she hugged her tightly.  
“You’re back.”
Natasha smiled. “Thanks to your dad.”
Looking at her dad, she smiled before hugging Natasha again. 
“I’ll be back in a minute.” 
Natasha nodded and carried Rory back towards you before everyone started running over. Meanwhile, you watched as Steve walked over to Sam. 
Ten minutes later, your daughter bolted from the crowd and towards her dad who was finally out of his protection suit. 
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
Seeing you again, Steve kissed you before kissing Rory’s cheek. 
“Everything okay?”
Steve watched as Fury made his way over to Sam, and he smiled. 
“Everything’s good.”
Kissing you again, Steve smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For walking into that room when you did.” Steve told you. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to do something about it.”
You shook your head, looking from him to your daughter and back to him. “It happened when it was meant to.”
Steve smiled before he kissed you. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Tony was right; Steve found the life with you he’d always wanted, even if it did take him a decade to do something about it. 
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centeris2 ¡ 6 months ago
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This seems to be an uncommon opinion but thank god SSO is making (what appears to be) serious headway into the story.
For years it felt like it had stalled out. It was valid wanting main characters and villains to be visually updated before continuing, but it slowed things down.
I'm glad they aren't going "we need to update Mr. Sands, Darko is a pretty old model compared to the Dark Riders, Avalon really needs an update, so does Pi, etc"
Because yes it absolutely would look better if everyone had the same number of polygons. And yes it WOULD be great if SSO picked up those threads mentioned throughout the main story. But if they did that and got all those map areas that had been brought up in the story quests then it'd be another 10 years of filler in the main story until they can 'wrap up'
And honestly I'm tired of waiting. This isn't even an impatience thing, this is a "I've played this game for 10+ years and at this point I don't care how it's wrapped up, as long as it IS wrapped up."
Probably helps that I don't expected a 'satisfying' ending from SSO, I just want AN ending to the main story. I expect Garnok to be 'defeated' and for the Soul Riders to be victorious, probably through the power of friendship. That's all I'm expecting.
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blackhholes ¡ 6 months ago
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teen wolf meme: [3/5] motifs -> resurrection
It's different now. I think dying did something to him. It did something to me, too. But none of it was good.
#teen wolf#lydia martin#kate argent#tracy stewart#scott mccall#peter hale#jackson whittemore#derek hale#hayden romero#twedit#twgifs#mine#my gifs#twmeme#yes i'm aware that it can definitely be argued whether resurrection is a motif in teen wolf or just a recurring plot device#and while it's certainly not a symbolic motif like fire and water was previously#the way it's utilized within the show does make me read it moreso as a motif than just plot#like water it's used to communicate an internal change but the ways it differs from water is that it usually occurs at the end of a#narrative arc whereas water typically appears at the beginnings#water is used to signify a character's beginning descent into something new and the resurrection is once that change is completed#jackson's arc in season two is started with his submersion in water and it's ended with his resurrection#and lydia's arc in eichen house in 5b is much the same with her in the river in her mind at the beginning and then her dying and coming bac#at the animal clinic#even lydia's arc in season two can be read within these parameters#it begins with her in the hospital shower as she digs hair out of the water and ends when she resurrects peter#so while yes there is a reversal there and lydia isn't the subject of the resurrection she is the agent of it#which honestly the same can be said for theo in 5a#basically what i'm getting at here is that my reading of the resurrections in teen wolf as a motif is very valid and you should all agree#also i completely forgot about jackson's resurrection until i was literally writing these tags so i had to go back and make a gif for that
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lazuliquetzal ¡ 1 year ago
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I keep on telling people you're the only one who knows how to plot. Can you teach all of us how to plot, please? I love you.
I AM SUMMONED? PLOT BRAIN SUMMONED?
I love plotting. It's my favorite part of the writing process. Plot is "things that happen" and the best part of writing is imagining things that happen. I'm going to assume that whoever may be reading this knows how to imagine The Happenings, so I'm gonna be talking more about structure, but in like, a kinda abstract sense.
A good plot is a little bit more than a string of events. Plot is like music: there's variation in rhythm and sound and melody, but ultimately there's cohesion, because it's all one song. You can have a bunch of wild things happening, but no matter how strange, there should be something that links them all together, because you're telling one story.
Plot structures are patterns in stories. I'm pretty sure most of them were developed as analysis tools (as in, story already exists > look! it follows this pattern) rather than as writing tools, but people use them as writing tools because it's a neat little way to organize the chaos that is "shit happens." Stories follow patterns for the same reasons music follows patterns: we enjoy the certainty of hitting certain beats. But we also like being surprised. A good pop song doesn't sound like a random collection of sounds, but it also doesn't sound like the middle slider of other songs.
There is this shared concept in both music and writing: the idea of tension and release. Basically, you're playing with reader expectation: there's an imbalance in the experience (tension), and we want to see that imbalance resolved (release). All the common plot structures deal with this basic pattern:
You set an expectation
There are complications to the expectation
You meet the expectation
And this rhythm is happening on multiple levels in writing. Scenes follow this structure (we're gonna get past that door, we're gonna find the murder weapon, we're gonna collaborate and come up with a plan) and all those scenes feed into the overarching expectation (we're gonna solve this murder!). I usually think of chapters as their own mini-story, part of the larger whole. And I think of scenes as their own mini-story, part of the larger chapter. I have engineer brain. I see the gears spinning in the clock. That's why all my chapters have at least One Important Thing happening, because that's that particular chapter's Step #3.
And One Last Important Thing:
In music, a delayed resolution is almost always more interesting than the standard resolution. In writing, that means you wanna drag out Step #2 for as long as you can. That's where the bulk of the story is happening, that's how you build tension, that's how you get people to turn the page.
So when you write a fake dating fic, those bitches better not get together until the very end. I came here for fake dating, not for real dating, damn it. If you resolve that expectation early on, you better replace it with a different expectation that's just as engaging.
But also don't drag it out for too long. Sorry. The hard part of writing is learning the difference between too short and too long. Writing is unfortunately a nuanced skill which is why my advice is like "do this but not too much teehee." But tension and resolution is just rhythm, you can build a sense for it if you engage with enough stories.
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lucabyte ¡ 4 months ago
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transfem loop + siffrin... you agree
i does agree.... i does in fact ... write a 7k word essay on the subject..... if you would like to perhaps click that link and read it if you were not already aware...... kisses u on the forehead......... sorry its that long but i had to cover all of my bases you know how it is with textual analysis when you're trying to draw a distinction between "headcanon" and "reading of the text" because those are different things.... to meeeeeeee.......
#a headcanon is when i say shit like loop has feetie pyjamas.#a reading of the text is when i go jesus christ dude im not sure someone that repressed has a particularly great grasp on their ideal Self#lucabytetalks#isat spoilers#back on the homestuck tangent sometimes i think about how ppl picked up on the trans coding of roxy but were so set in their ways that#they thought it mustve been in the past and not a potential future... and then got real mad about a character being like.#complexly transmasc with a nuianced relationship to gender and not Easily Brushed Off Before The Narrative Begins Binary Trans Woman#one of the few times i think ive seen it be That way around? but i think it comes down to that whole. visible transgenderism happening#during the plot vs Invisible transgenderism that shh its okay you dont have to actually think about you can just say for brownie points#BUT MAYHAPS THAT IS MEAN. mayhaps that is mean. but i know what i saw back in the day.#sighs homestuck tangent over anyway uhhh yeah hold on isat fans ill throw you a new bone instead of getting off topic uhhh#isabeau seems like such a pragmatic planner to me i think theyve got contingency plans for whatever family they want to have in future#logical nerd with his transition timeline planned out and it includes a flowchart with an 'IF partner has X then i need Y to have a kid'#shrodingers op isabeau . guy with a gender spreadsheet and punnet squares. i think it being that methodical is funny#it also speaks to his occasional hesitance but thats too dark of a read i think im not going to stake anything serious on that#i have thoughts on isa but they're more obviously aligned with what he literally says with his words in-game. not really much worth#elaborating on besides poking at how his insecurities and appeasement to others might inform his literal decisions#i have maybe a few bullet points in my head for him. not 7k words
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hotshotsxyz ¡ 5 months ago
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the madness on the breeze
(kaos) (orpheus/dionysus) (9.6k) MAJOR SPOILERS FOR KAOS NETFLIX If you haven't seen it, stop reading, go watch it and come back when you're done (pls)
Dionysus doesn’t mean to end up on Orpheus’s doorstep. He doesn’t mean to end up anywhere at all, actually. He’d just… taken a step, and another, and another, and found himself here. Alone. Dionysus hates being alone.
The house is quiet until it isn’t, until broken glass crunches beneath his feet. It’s been days since Orpheus broke that glass, not weeks, not years. Less than a heartbeat in the lifetime of a god, but. But.
But Dionysus isn’t a god, not entirely. Or—he wasn’t always. He isn’t sure he wants to be, not anymore. He kneels and collects the broken glass. He wonders if the shards will cut him. He wonders if he’ll bleed.
(read the rest on ao3)
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aroaessidhe ¡ 5 months ago
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2024 reads / storygraph
Outdrawn
f/f contemporary romance
two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at
they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families
#outdrawn#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#sapphic books#I thought this was decent! I liked the concept (even if I got distracted by some art related things…)#and the dynamic between the characters was good. I enjoyed their relationship development broadly speaking#and the emphasis on communication; though it was a quick flip into being together all of a sudden.#The sketchbook doodle flirting was cute. Some interesting exploration of their complicated family situations too.#There’s a lot of exploration of burnout and carpal tunnel and the dangers of artists overworking which I think are important conversations#and are done with some nuance. But it’s pretty much all discussed in the context of the personal pressure they put on themselves#rather than the industry corporate greed and artificial competition created by the comic platform - which are significant in this story!#It felt odd that that connection wasn’t really ever made?#I know that this is a romance and nitpicking the background plot is beside the point and also that I am not a big romance reader#but the premise that the comic hosting site archives everything; wipes the leaderboard; and out of nowhere has a comic competition for#new weekly chapters…I’m sorry but the art world would riot. Even if people enter because they’re desperate for the cash they’d be pissed#People live off the income from their webcomics! if they were erased (temporarily) with no notice…..there would be crimes committed istg#I simply don’t believe that it would be doable to create a new weekly webcomic with no notice while you also have a full-time comic job#(especially as the only stylistic choices mentioned are full-colour) - not to mention what happened to their 8-years-running webcomics#that were archived? they don’t think about them at all after the beginning? surely they’d care about that?#And then with their new comics they make for this competition (after work I guess) we get vague snippets about them but barely anything#- if they’re consuming that much of your time I would expect to feel like they’re thinking about them all the time#rather than the vaguest discussion about genre and cast numbers only.#I guess I just think the whole comic site stunt felt unnecessary for the plot anyway -#it would have worked exactly the same if they were just competing on the normal leaderboard with their normal comics???#anyway - I’m not judging TOO hard about all that because again I know it’s not the point and maybe the industry is like that in some place#Unfortunately it was distracting enough to affect my feelings on the book tho lol.#Lastly: the audiobook………oof. The narrators talk at different speeds; for one.#And Sage’s VA does this deeply weird raspy-anime-teen-boy voice for Noah which is such an odd choice#and doesn’t match her character at all.#unforch my library only had the audiobook (what I usually prefer) so I just had to sort of….translate the narration into a normal voice lol#anyway the romance is good tho
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pagesofkenna ¡ 7 days ago
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what if i just completely threw out 60% of the existing plot concept for the novel i'm already writing the second draft of
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sparklespectres ¡ 6 months ago
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I’m really proud of Gwen and Alice for actually talking to each other and trying to open up a little bit? This is very significant character growth from their whole “I know that you know that I know something but I don’t want to say anything before you do even though you aren’t going to say something unless I do first” conversation that they had all those weeks ago !
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catharusustulatus ¡ 1 year ago
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Maybe it’s bad to hyper-fixate on one actor but I am so excited for Joe Keery to have bigger roles. I think he’s so great in Fargo this season and I look forward to his upcoming 2024 and post ST slate. It’s high time he’s been cast in some big tentpole films. He leans indie in his choices, which I respect, but dude. Put him in Greta Gerwig’s Narnia. Make him a knight. Put him in a sequel to the DnD movie that came out this year. Make him a cute bartender that’s thrown into a secret plot to steal government info because he’s in the wrong place wrong time. Father son drama. Road trip movie where he falls in love. I could go on….
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edettethegreat ¡ 2 months ago
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king lear AU where parents respect their children’s boundaries
Gloucester: hey Edmund what’s that letter you’ve got there?
Edmund: oh it’s nothing dw about it
Gloucester: ok son 👍 I respect your privacy 👍
Edmund: …😒😒
—————
Goneril: hey dad can you send away your knights? They’re wrecking my house
Lear: you want me to get rid of my knights??
Goneril: yes please
Lear: well then of course 👍 I’m sorry they wrecked your house :(
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boxwinebaddie ¡ 1 month ago
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uncle neen!!! welcome back omg i was so sad to see u disappear </3 hyh !!! i had a question i asked last time but i was wondering since ur rewriting ur fics, are u planning on posting them on tumblr? or on ao3? pls be kind to urself too<33
good MORNING, lovie!!!!~ <3 c':
( or whatever time it is, where you are at the moment! )
i'm very excited to announce that you are my very FIRST new ask message on my brand new blog!
( teri is my first follower; ly ter. <33 o//3//o )
***long overdue UN ramble-bramble under the cut. xx
i /do/ miss my six hundred bajillion ask memes and am mourning the loss of all my online creations and great joys as a deranged southpark fanfiction author and the legacy i built with my tiny, gay weird hands
( i will go into it another time, but i had a very, very frightening bipolar episode surrounding my blog and my role on here as a writer, friend and mentor to you all, deleted all my things in a horrible panic, was able to recover them...but in the -- what i hope is the *very last* -- after shock of my episode...i got very scared, very sad and deleted both my dearly treasured and beloved, beautifully cult followed by many of you and other ghosts of sp style fanatics past ao3 account**
**( with peppermint on it at 13k likes which...oh my god, please be gentle with me, that was a very, very hard blow and rough realization for me and i am sorry to everyone who loved that fanfiction and wanted to go back and read it for posperity and personal comfort...i miss her too; rest in peace, pep, my first born. my sweet girl. </3 )
...and most tragically of all, i deleted my tumblr blog, with over one hundred pages of carefully curated content surrounding my sp aus, your lovely, insightful and thoughtful questions and inquiries, also typed with your tiny, weird gay hands answered, in turn, with mine, torched the ev. of those memories in the final blast and lost my window into your world through that medium...
...which is literally heartbreaking to me, because more than even my silly fanfictions or my blog, what i loved to do, was talk to all of you and read your wonderful messages each day and remind myself of why i should be here and continue to do what i do. </333 :'''c
BUT! my darlings, as ravenstan would say, 'it's always darkest before crimson dawn', for the very first time in several weeks ( which, i fear, and i was, full of fear and horrible self loathing/dread every waking and nightmarish moment ), last night, i cried for a very, very, very, long time, held myself together in the broken places -- told myself and the girl i was that i loved her and i was going to take care of us and be brave -- and broke the fever ( a little off key like jersey kyle, but very lovely nonetheless; love you tone deaf king. x my sboyf. )
today, i woke up this morning and slept...PEACEFULLY and woke up PERFECTLY HAPPY AND RESTED...
AND SMILED. QUITE. WIDE!!!!~ :D
and that is a baby step, but it is a step in the right direction and also almost wanted to make me weep like a baby again because i literally have not felt happy or like i do not hate myself for like, i shit you not, over like 15-20 days...it was frightening and fucking horrible! SLAY!
nevertheless ( or the most, finally ) i am excited to welcome in a new era/year of change on my blog and within myself; which is an era of peppermint flavored 'hope i'm healing' in a delicious rem(ember) font.
unfortunately, because i nuked my ao3 account, i do not currently one atm, but am in the process of recovering it.
( i'm not condoning any kind of rude/uncivilized behavior bc people are allowed to do anything they want -- but i'd really like to get my user back and would appreciate it a lot if no one used it to create another ao3 account just because it would be confusing for my readers and disheartening to me to not be boxwinebaddie anymore. )
until then, i will be writing/drafting rem(ember) in my messy google docs, am storyboarding everything to the best of my ability ( which is not perfect, but nothing is -- except stan and kyle to each other -- but god loves a trier, which is why he hates me: i prefer hell where it's drier -- that way my girlfail guylinea will not run. xx )
KALE SEITAN! ;)
posting little snippets of it on here for all of you, probably put it here on my tumblr and post it up to ao3 if i can regain my account/one in general ( i am a little worried that because of how long it's been, the loss of all my followers and, what i assume, is a decreased public or tiktok generated interest in sp, it will do poorly; rip </3 )
-- but the point is...that i want to start doing stuff for myself now. and not because i think i should or create unnecessary stress/sadness surrounding my strength or weakness as a writer or person ( or like, beat the living shit out of myself every single day anymore )...
...so i am writing it slowly, carefully, synthesizing all the info i gathered from over a year of answering your questions ( which helped me develop my sp au styles and their worlds into the lovely, seemingly breathing paper machslayed things they are now ), am going to write the fanfiction i always/wanted/ to write ( i’ve always wanted to rewrite RM, but was so busy and overwhelmed with my blog/my irl stuff that i couldn't )
and i'm calling it...
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<3
p.s. ( i love you ): i am going to give my grandmother a copy of the first chapter of peppermint for christmas because i wanted to do something special/sentimental for her and secretly push the gay middle school style agenda ( she is actually very woke and thought my uncle might be gay for a while when he was younger, haha xx ), but i want to give them different names, so that on the off chance it gets passed off to my mom, my dad or manages to travel by world of mouth ( my grandma has a tendency to gab, but i love her a lot ) that it can't specifically be traced back to my dead ao3 or my blog.
so if any one has any ideas for silly interesting names i could give my sons, names for other characters or south park in gen. hit me up! <33
thank you for your interest in my work -- and in me, in general. i love you all dearly, i hope you heal ( i know you will ) and smile, pendejos because got a lot coming up on that crimson dawn and a lot of crazy shit coming down on that *jersey i won't say i'm in luh megara vc*
~SCHARLET sLUt~
cheers! mazel! ;) xx
-uncle nina, in her healing era <3
#hello my friends#it's really good to hear from you again#specifically whatever friend sent this message in! thank you my darling! i am sorry for the fright#but i am VERY EXCITED to start writing again#slowly but surely; baby steps#i want to fill in the tags more but even tho i did sleep very peacefully last late nite bit i am running on almost NO sleep#and not to be baby asf i cried a LOOOOOT last night and this past week/past weeks ( i have no conception of time )#its my slayolay cursed ravenstamulet demonic kennygal curse#and my eyes hurt A LOT so i will leave it at this! i hope you guys are as excited for it as i am and tbh i am actually thinking#that nuking my blog and starting over was a good idea bc i was a little too overwhelmed and i am excited for the fresh start#and now i can write my fanfiction with all the new information i gathered and was able to process and plot out using your#messages and questions! which makes i can now craft the most updated slightly unplugged better longer and uncut vers#of my fanfiction yet! ( i might consider rewriting pep after if i have the strength of will and the time to kill -- i am also going to#start going to regular 4 day a week multi hour outpaitent therapy and my medications were just upped and seem to be#...beginning to work? me thinks? YAY???!!!! <333 either way i am going to take things slow and do what makes me happy#i want to post snippets on here when i can and it is almost my birthday! t-minus two days! wooo! and my final thought is#if you rem(ember) anyone or have a pal you know was interested in my stuff/wants to refind me/tell em i'm not dead#you can direct them to this blog and this post ( all i ask is that no one make a large post or large deal about it because i am#very skittish and all that attention is WHY i had that bipolar episode among other irl things so i hope you heal i love you#smile pendejo and its good to be back ( even if its with one foot in the void and the other in a hellokitty roller blade ) xx
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clochanamarch ¡ 4 months ago
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" look. i know you don't owe me, nor anyone else, a blessed thing. but i wouldn't have picked up the phone if i'd thought of any other option. and i'm not asking you to do anything bad. i promise. i would never do that. but this does need to be done, and i don't trust anyone else the way i trust you. we just need to follow a few leads. nobody gets hurt. i swear to you, @ziminiysoldat. " / S.C.
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hidey-writes ¡ 5 months ago
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wip wednesday
In the drifting silence of his empty apartment, Shen Wei presses the door shut, turns the lock. And then, like his body was waiting until he was alone, his legs give out. Shen Wei tips/topples against/into the wall, sinks down to sitting on the front mat/in the entryway. He sits there for a long time, curled into himself with his arms around his knees. The whole time, his body braced for the sound of Zhao Yunlan’s door opening, the sound of footsteps crossing the hall. Waiting, again, for Kunlun to return to him.  But no sound comes from outside his door. At last, Shen Wei tips his head back against the wall, lets out a soft, streaming sigh. The sound trembles in the still air. It’s the closest he’s come to crying in years, that he can remember.
from the up draft of the answer fic. im cutting it veryyyyyy close to the deadline this time ahahaha (nervous!) but the writing is going relatively smoothly (knocks on wood) and i think it'll turn out pretty delicious!!
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fairyroses ¡ 1 year ago
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She was the only thing I was living for. I’m sorry for your loss, sir, but right now we need to get you airborne. Police will be here any minute. I’m well aware of that. I’m turning myself in.
— SMALLVILLE, “Bizarro” (7.01)
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