#also i just checked on ao3 and this fic is a year old? impossible. time is not real

[kingdomvel]

Me: sees a picture of Ewan Mcgregor with long hair and beard and a bit of a rugged look My brain: is this Wolf-Wan from the bones of a miracle by @tideswept ?

[dem-obscure-imagines]

You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End

Time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything alright, Steve?”

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

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

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

“I don’t know what to do…”

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

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

“What if they don’t like me…?”

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

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

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

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

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

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

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

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

“Ma’am?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

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

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

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

Steven Grant Rogers.

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

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

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

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

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

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

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

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

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

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“I don’t look out of place?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Glad to be of service.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Beginning

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

Back before he was anything.

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

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

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

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

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

Play it cool, (Y/N).

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

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

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

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

“That makes two of us.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

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

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

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

“On it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could see yourself making a home here.

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

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

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

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

…Ready For It?

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

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

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

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

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

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

You nodded, waiting for orders.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

“Well shit.”

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

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

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

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

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

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

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

Wonderstruck

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

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

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

Someone knocked on the door.

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

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost.”

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

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

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

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

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

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

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

“The honor is mine.”

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

“Steve gave it to me.”

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

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

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

“My tolerance is too good.”

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

“A what?” Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, for what?”

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

“Beer Pong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Timeless

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

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

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

“Morning. You’re here early.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

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

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

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

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

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

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

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

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

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

“Woah.”

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

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

“Is it?”

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

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

“Feels like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was what?”

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

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

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

He laughed. “Hey!”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a frog?”

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

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

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

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

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

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

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

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

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

Time stood still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Wildest Dreams

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

Theoretically, of course.

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

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

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

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“You cooking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

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

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

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

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible String

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

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

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

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

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

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

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

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

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

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

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

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

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

“What order did you watch them in?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

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

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

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

“About me?” Steve whispered.

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

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

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

“How old were you?”

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

“Until the mall?”

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

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

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

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

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

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

Out of the Woods

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

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

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

“Thanks.” You replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

***

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

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

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come Find Me in the Future

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Steve.”

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

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

“Sleepy tea?”

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

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

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

“What’s it about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

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

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

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

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me know what you think.”

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

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

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

Today was too important for that.

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

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

“Morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

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

“Shit, wait—!”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ironic.”

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

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

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

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

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

[stu-dyingstudent]

kid/academy/pre-genin Sakura Haruno fic recs

To be honest, there aren't many kid or academy Sakura fics out there, at least that I can find, and most of which are actually time travel AUs. Now, the tricky thing with it is that most of those tend to start where Sakura is quite young, but by the end of the story she is a genin. So, it gives me the difficult decision of whether of not I should include those on this list (I haven't decided).

Anyway, the other difficult aspect of fanfiction about a young Sakura is the writing itself. There has to be a good balance of childishness and eloquence to ensure that the writing is not just truthful to the character, but that it also flows with the story. These are some of the ones I like!

Started: 2024.07.25

Last Updated: 2024.09.28

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Satori (Between the Lines) - Jaylene || ffn || gen || T || academy AU || complete

While attending the Academy, Sakura's field experience assignment with the Konohagakure Intelligence Division ends up being more valuable than she'd ever guess.

Sakura lands herself working in Torture & Intelligence??? From the very beginning Sakura has been pegged as a "paper ninja" where she is constantly praised for her intelligence, so Satori (Between the Lines) is academy Sakura putting these skills to use. Super good read and includes characters we don't normally get to see in fics!

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Time Flies Like An Arrow - Katlou303 || ao3 || gen || K || time travel AU || complete

Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's four years old having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

Time Flies Like An Arrow is probably the most interesting take on a time travel AU I have ever read. Sakura ends up going back in time to when she is 4 years old and not even in the academy. The only thing is, she has no clue that this is the second time she's living this life and her mind is still one of a child.

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Two Minds (are better than one) - Lesemaus16 || ao3 || gen || Tobirama as inner AU || complete

Tobirama doesn't generally object to being reborn. He does object to being stuck in the mind of a little girl, though.Sakura grows up with a grumpy voice in her head, telling her to train more.Tobirama's influence on Sakura might very well change the story. Or maybe not, who knows.

note: I think this might actually take place during the genin days, but I have to check since I can't remember.

Tobirama is such a great character (so refreshing) and his interactions with Sakura in this are gold! I hope one day Kishimoto will release some side stories about him and other characters from his time as we really don't know that much about them tbh.

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New Day Dawning - IncompleteSentanc (Erava) || ao3 || narusaku || T || canon divergence || complete

One day, while visiting the grave of Nohara Rin, Obito stumbles across a young girl terrifyingly like her. He decides to ensure she doesn’t meet the same fate.As for Sakura? Sakura had no idea what she was awakening the day she went to visit her parents graves - but she never looked back. One way or another.(Feat. Sakura raised by Obito and the Akatsuki, and her eventual return to Konoha and all those she left behind)

Sakura is brainwashed and manipulated, but loved by notorious killers nonetheless. Incredibly well written and I won't lie when I say that the ending took me a bit by surprise. Also, I should warn you that this does take place over a long time and thus Sakura does not remain a child for the whole thing, but I just really wanted to put New Day Dawning on this list (just read it).

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In Another World - eleventheeggo || ao3 || gen || T || orphan Sakura AU || ongoing

What if Sakura was an orphan instead of Naruto and Sasuke? A story about a socially stunted girl who has a thirst for knowledge and is surrounded by softies who love her all the same.

Orphan!Sakura is not something I knew I needed in my life! She is so precious and it's great to watch all of these characters come together for her sake. In Another World also discusses ROOT a bit, which you know I love, so I can't wait for the story to get there.

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Your Move, Instigator (draw your weapon and hold your tongue) - Laysan_albatross || ao3|| third war extended AU || complete

“We are still under wartime policy,” the recruiter had told her parents. He had an envelope in his hand. He sounded sorry. “She has two parents who are successful ninjas. We would be remiss to overlook her potential based upon that alone.” The Third Shinobi War never ended. Konoha needs more soldiers, grabbing anyone who can fight, especially those who can't say no.

I feel like one of Your Move Instigator's biggest strengths is that it truly gets across the innocence (or loss) of these characters. They themselves don't fully understand what they are doing or why. They are just children following the orders given to them by adults, even if that means taking the life of another. In the beginning, Sakura even recalls times of her spelling and grammar being corrected in her reports along with other childish things. Konoha has shown themselves of not being above dispatching young children to fight, but this story just brings that devastation to new light.

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cut the head off the snake - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || time travel AU || complete

when eighteen-year-old, post-war Sakura is thrown back into her tiny, pre-Academy body, she makes a decision. she'd had a childhood once already, and this time, she's more interested in Not Dying when the inevitable shit hits the proverbial fan. so she will work harder, care less, kill more, and smile when she's done. and hey, if she ends up reviving an extinct nature transformation to attract the most corrupt, power-hungry man from her timeline, all the better for her, right?

Probably one of the best time travel AUs out there!! Also, we get to see ROOT!Sakura in here, which I love in addition to Sai (my baby). I know I said it's incomplete, but it's only missing one chapter so you still get plenty of story. Anyway, definitely check out cut the head off the snake!!

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Not so imaginary - FangirlJo || ao3 || gen || T || ghost Tobirama AU || incomplete

Haruno Sakura was 5 when she realises her imaginary friend was not so imaginary at all and resembles the Second Hokage by a lot. Like a lot a lot. In which Senju Tobirama is Sakura's Ghost Sensei. Things change, chaos ensues and Tobirama is once more reminded with the reason he doesn't have kids.

Damn, I just really love Tobirama as a character. This guy rocks and deserves more story time (justice for Tobirama!!).

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Ground Zero - TheIzzatron || ao3 || gen || T || third war extended AU || incomplete

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If this means forcing weapons into the hands of children, then so be it.

A young Sakura is taken advantage of in her parents’ absence at war and is enrolled into the academy's "accelerated" program. The complete unfairness of the situation is skillfully conveyed throughout the story. Sakura is left to wonder why she too isn't learning about flowers and history like Ino? Why Ino isn't learning the fastest way to kill her enemies? The characters and their emotions are so well done that you truly feel just how cheated they are. They aren't heartless, they are children. Highly recommend.

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Inherited Will of Fire - jokergirl2001 || ffn || T || gen || sakura can see ghosts AU || incomplete

She always knew she was a natural at genjutsu but what she didn't know was that being a natural meant she had some immense talent when it comes to spiritual energy. Well at least that's what the cheerful raven haired boy who apparently drowned himself on purpose said.

I only just started reading this now, but Inherited Will of Fire is super cute! Academy Sakura finds she is able to see ghosts after stumbling upon Shisui shortly after the Uchiha massacre.

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One Change in the Story - Aingeal98 || ffn || T || gen || time travel AU || incomplete

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was only supposed to go back five minutes in time. Instead, Sakura wakes up in a dark room surrounded by people wearing black cloaks with red clouds on them. The worst part? She doesn't have a clue who she is.

Praying for One Change in the Story to be completed!! Sakura lands herself back in time with the mind and body of her four year old self. With Pein being the first one to find her, Sakura's new life purpose is to be the Akatsuki's weapon. Similar to New Day Dawning, Sakura doesn't stay a child for the entirety of this fic, but I still think it is a notable mention. Sakura slowly loses herself to her new roll and in a sense becomes the embodiment of a ROOT agent. It was interesting to see Itachi's internal battle with the situation and Konan's guilt. However, even with Sakura bound to Ame, there are children back in Konoha who have an itch that a pink-haired girl named Sakura is someone important.

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Old Man by the Bar - Varmint || ao3 || T || gen || academy AU || complete

All it took was one school teacher's decision for the reality of Konoha to be altered in a way that no one could have imagined. Follow Kiba Inuzuka, Sakura Haruno, and Chouji Akimichi as they grow as individuals, friends, and ninja. All with the help of that grumpy old man with all of the cool war stories.

The way this fic is genuinely so good and I almost never see people talking about it is criminal! The interactions between the kids are truly great and there is so much character growth among them. Kiba, Sakura, and Choji really just started off as a group of misfits thrown together for an assignment, but even though it was a complete disaster they grew to appreciate the relationship formed.

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Y'all, please send me some good kid/academy Sakura fics!!!! Or write one...

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation! They've written 120 fics in the Stranger Things fandom, with all of them being in the Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation:

Hic sunt dracones

Someone who cares

Updraft

(You got me) in the palm of your hand

Just add water

Hype. My love. The girl with the dragon AU. I could not be more obsessed with Hype’s writing. I wasn’t much of a fantasy girlie growing up, or even reading fic in other fandoms, but something about the way she writes dragon fucking really sold me. Even when she isn’t writing some type of magical fantasy world, she’s writing intricate details about these characters we all love so much, and giving them stories that make them seem so interesting. She’s my number one hype girl when I run events, always participates even when she’s busy writing novels for the bang or after the bang. I’m so lucky to have been able to meet her and have her as a friend. We’re all lucky to have her in this fandom. Love youuuuuu ♥️ -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because those two dumbheads came crashing into my brain and flipped a switch that I had never expected to get flipped again. Before S4, I hadn’t written fiction in over fifteen years and I had never posted any of my works, anywhere. I saw my first Steddie fanart on Instagram and I thought to myself, “Huh, that is neat. Let’s check out AO3.” And I did. And I fell down a rabbit hole of epic proportions. There were plot bunnies living in that hole. And I had been there, before, over the years, and every time I had found excuses to not write my ideas down. Except, this time, the fuckers were relentless. And so, one day, I sat down on my lunch break, and I bashed out the first 1.5k words of what would become “Someone who cares”. The next day, I sat down and wrote 1k more. And more the day after that. That was almost exactly two years ago, and there hasn’t been a day since where I haven’t written at least a few sentences. I’ve recently cracked 500k words published on AO3, all Steddie, and it sure as hell doesn’t like I’ll be stopping any time soon. I never want it to stop, tbh.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love when they are completely feral and unwell over each other. Give me those acts of undying devotion, give me that possessive sex, give me the jealousy and the drama. (But also give me that happy ending, most of the time. I will read a good dark fic, every now and then, but most of the time, I’m a happy ending sorta gal.) Bonus points if they snark and bicker like an old married couple while being also completely and irrevocably gone for each other.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

First and foremost, I think it’s safe to say that I love writing AUs (mermaids and dragons and demons, oh my …). There’s just something to sticking these boys in the wildest of scenarios and trying to figure out how they’d behave, and what it would take to make them fall in love (because they always fall in love, in every universe).  Another thing I frequently find myself drifting towards is the Found Family trope. Both of our boys are canonically depicted as having strained relationships with their biological parents, and I love exploring that and making them find safety and trust and a sense of home outside of that “traditional” idea of family - with each other, with the kids, with Wayne. There’s so many ways of exploring this trope, and I think that is beautiful. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

See, that is impossible to answer because there’s just thousands of them out there, and so many amazing ones that deserve all the love! No way I can narrow it down to just one. Here’s a few that I constantly find myself thinking of and that I keep recommending to friends: - Money, power, glory by @strangerthings1975 - one of the first ones I read and that got me hooked on the pairing - @wynnyfryd ’s Yogi!Steve series - delightfully filthy, delightfully funny, and one of the best ADHD!Eddie voices I’ve read out there - Sugar, we’re going down by @thefreakandthehair - everything lex writes sucks me right in tbh. She just has a great way with language, and how she portrays the boys is so lovely.  - @eyeofshinigami’s a/b/o series- lovely, in-character exploration of omega!Eddie and alpha!Steve and their relationship through its various stages. This is what inspired me to write my own a/b/o fic! 

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I can never reliably say what tropes or topics I’m going to explore beyond the projects I’m currently working on, because the plot bunnies do what they want. No way of knowing where they’ll take me next, so I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride.

What is your writing process like?

I’m probably one of the most notorious plotters I know. Before I start writing, I need to have an idea of what’s supposed to happen in the story and where it’s going, or I’ll give myself massive anxiety. Almost all of my multi-chapter fics have an outline doc. (The only exceptions so far have been “Just add water” and “Whatever you want it to be”, and those were originally planned as one-shots and spiraled out of control.) The outline doc is my red thread that contains the story’s basic premise, an overview of the key characters and their roles, and outlines of the different chapters broken down into bullet points. Those are not set in stone. I frequently tweak details as I go (change the location of a scene, insert an extra Steddie or Stobin-centric scene if I feel they need more screen time, switch important revelations or plot points to a different chapter), but the outline document is my blueprint that ensures I know what I’m doing and how to get from point A to point B. I write chronologically, in the order laid down in the outline doc, and my first draft is actually pretty close to the version that ends up getting posted. I usually check for SPAG, tweak a sentence here and there, and that is it. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think the most noticeable one would be that I have a major case of wordy bitch syndrome. When doing chaptered fics, my finished word count always ends up higher than my initial estimate. When writing things with a word count cap, such as drabbles or microfics, I always, always, ALWAYS need to manically trim my first draft. One of the main things I do when editing is deleting superficial descriptors. (You don’t need three adjectives to describe the same action, Hype, you really do not!!!)

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Most of the time, I prefer posting my chapters as I finish them, because I thrive on that immediate feedback. Seeing my readers’ reactions and getting to experience the story with them as I write is a lovely feeling.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I think it's a tie between “Someone who cares” and “Hic sunt dracones”, which are both very special to me for very different reasons.  “Someone who cares” was the fic that started it all. The first thing I wrote after my 15-year hiatus. The first fic I finished. The first fic I shared. This fandom has made my life a lot brighter and brought me close to so many amazing people, and it all began here. “Hic sunt dracones” is the one that has exceeded all of my wildest expectations. Everything I dreamed of but never thought possible when I first started sharing my stories, this one has achieved. It has sparked incredible fandom friendships for me. It has made rec lists. It has fanart. (The info may or may not be out already when this posts, but I've been reliably informed that someone is currently BOOKBINDING it. 😱) I just continue to be floored and humbled by the reactions to this fic!

How did you get the idea for Just add water?

I crowd-sourced it! I had just hit 250 followers on tumblr, and to celebrate, I did a round of polls to let my followers pick a concept for my next fic. AU or canon-adjacent? What kind of AU? Who was supposed to be the mer-dude? Where should the fic be set? In the end, I had a mermaid AU with mer!Steve and human!Eddie, set at Lovers’ Lake and one scene as well as two dialog prompts to include. It was heaps of fun and a bit surprising watching the poll results roll in, and I love the fic that came out of it (even though it spiraled from the originally intended one-shot and ended up being five chapters and over 20k long 🤣). 

When writing Updraft, what was something you didn’t expect?

I definitely didn’t expect for Steve to come forward and admit he was very aware of Eddie’s history and that he’d basically had a crush on him for the past four years. I did not plan that part at all, it just sort of snuck up on me, and suddenly he’d said it and I was like “damn, that’s good, we’re keeping that in.” That’s what I mean when I say that, no matter how much planning you do, they just have a mind of their own sometimes. I love surprising myself like that!

What inspired Updraft?

When I was brainstorming ideas for the Steddie Big Bang 2023, I jotted down a little bullet point that said “Something steampunk bc steampunk is cool” and that was basically it! 😂 I just love the entire steampunk aesthetic, and I always wanna give artists something image-heavy that they can really go to town on for a collab. (And let’s be honest, somebody needed to put Steve in a tophat. It had to be done.)  The idea didn’t make the final cut for the 2023 Big Bang, but I sort of kept rotating it in my brain for the next twelve months, and then decided to go with it for the 2024 round, and was lucky enough to be claimed by @cuips-not-cute, who really nailed the aesthetic I was going for with their artwork! ⚙️🎩❤️

What was your favorite part to write from (You got me) in the palm of your hand?

The sex scene in the van. Definitely one of the sweetest, softest smut scenes I’ve written to date. Closely followed by the finale in front of Eddie’s tent, with Steve in full costume, trying to struggle his way through that over-the-top script that Dustin wrote for him. 😂

How do/did you feel writing Someone who cares?

I mainly felt very confused with myself, because I hadn’t written ANY fiction in forever, and here I was, with that novel-length beast just pouring out of me one word at a time. I also second-guessed myself a lot. Was my English good enough? Wasn’t I writing everyone horribly OOC? What if nobody liked it? I think I’ve rarely felt as nervous as I did on the day I hit that Post button on chapter 1. I couldn’t believe I actually did that, but today I’m so proud of myself and very happy I took that leap. 

What was the most difficult part of writing Hic sunt dracones?

The damn middle part! 😅 This is actually something I struggle with a lot. Many of my stories come to me with pretty solidly formed beginnings and ends, but connecting the two is what regularly gives me headaches.  “Hic sunt dracones” was no exception here. The first few chapters just sort of barged into my head, nearly fully formed, and demanded to be written with an insistence I couldn’t ignore. By the time I posted chapter one, I had almost everything up to the castle escape figured out, and I had a pretty solid idea of the ending I wanted, but the in-between was very blurry to me. For the longest time, the only thing my outline said was “They hang out at Eddie’s lair and fuck a lot”, but I had no idea on how to actually move the story forward beyond the monsterfucking. 🤣 What really did the trick was adding the sacrifice scene in chapter three to my plan, because that sort of is what propels the rest into motion and allowed me to tie things together at the end. That, and adding Wayne and his merry band of misfits to the cast, because Steve needed someone to actually fuel his character growth.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mean “Yes, beloved?” gets screamed back at me so often I’ve made it my ask button, but there’s many.  I loved writing their first kiss in “Someone who cares”, because I had been edging both myself and the readers for seven chapters and by the point I finally got around to it, even I was like “damnit, come ON already!!”  I was grinning so hard while writing the big reveal in “Just add water”, where Steve physically dunks screaming, wet rat Eddie to shut him up.  Those are just two examples, but I have many of these scenes, and when people pick up on them and tell me how much they loved them, that always makes my day a little. 💖

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Anyone who follows me is probably sick of me talking about it by now, but @houseofthemovingimage and I are working on an absolute monster of a fic and art collab. It’s called “The King’s Gift”, and it features time traveler Steve, medieval king Eddie, a fae curse and lots of fun and drama and romance. ✨ I will not try to give any more estimates on when it’ll start posting bc we’ve both had a bit of a year and good things take time, but just know that I’m munching on the drywall over here, I’m so feral over it.  Other than that, I’m planning on participating in the @steddieholidaydrabbles again this year, and I may have been bouncing ideas with some other artists and fellow writers about more collabs, so there’s definitely more to come!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to @steddieas-shegoes for nominating me, and thank you to the amazing mods here at @steddieunderdogfics for all the hard work you’re putting into this blog! I love reading your fic recs and interviews, and it was so much fun getting to do one of my own. 🥰 This little online space we have here is so beautiful and creative and full of so many incredibly talented, kind and supportive people, some of whom have not only become moots but friends over the past two years. The Steddie fandom brings a smile to my face every single day, and I am simply unbelievably happy to be a part of it!

Thank you to our author, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, and our nominator, @steddieas-shegoes! See more of @just-my-latest-hyperfixation works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[ghostoffuturespast]

So It Goes

24 March 2022 - 13 April 2024

Status: Complete

Read in its entirety on AO3

(Shave a thousand off for the last chapter though, it's stuff that was too long for the notes.)

Welp, I finally did it. Finally got that little green check mark. I finished my fic. My ode to my tinfoil hat is complete. It is goddamn fucking done! I still need to go back to fix some things and polish this up, but that's easy money. The hard part is over, kids.

This is the first fan fic I ever wrote/writed/writtended and I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I started this story. But at two years and nearly half a million words later, it was far more than I anticipated and ever thought I was capable of. To say this fic took on a life of its own is an understatement. Not only did this thing Frankenstein its way out of my head, but it also took over my life. So if you've taken the time to read this fic, dropped a kudos, or a bookmark, or a comment. Thank you, truly.

Writing this was a hell of a lot of work (blood, sweat, tears, and lots of overthinking), it wasn't always easy, and often felt impossible at times. Trying to juggle irl life, writing, navigating the fandom experience, and tempering my expectations of my friends and peers... Let's just say it's been a learning experience.

But I did it. We made it. We're here.

So I'm gonna take a victory lap, take a breather, possibly a nap, and after that, Grandpa V and Old Man River will be back at some point. Idk when yet.

Because, of course, I'm an idiot and there's a part II to this fucking thing.

It only took me 33 chapters to get to the punchline of this joke...

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt.13

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader × Cersei Lannister. TW: violence)

(BTW: I have officially made an AO3 account that I will be transferring this story to as an OC fic. I will be continuing the fic here as an x Reader fic as well. I will include the link on Pt.14)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Hand's Tourney was set to be the event of the year.

Members of all the high and low noble families had gathered in the Keep, and hopeful knights old and young entered their names into the lists.

You were so glad Sandor wasn't one of them.

You knew how strong he was, and how skilled with his sword. But you didn't think you could stomach watching on the side lines as some hedge knight tried to take chunks from the notorious Hound.

Cersei had insisted on picking out your dress for the tourney, as it would be the first time you would be presented to all of the noble families. The gown itself was rose pink satin and the bodice and sleeves clung tightly to you. Over this, a maid laced a cloth of gold over bodice intricately decorated with silk rosettes. Your slippers were gold as well, also decorated with rosettes.

Cersei also urged you to let her maids braid your hair as was popular with the other noble ladies, which you agreed to so long as your head didn't end up looking like a beehive.

"Unfortunately, it would be poor form for us to sit together." Cersei bemoaned, "But consider this your first challenge to face alone."

"Yes, your grace" You balled up bits of your skirt into your palms, which were sweating from nerves.

Sandor was to stand guard of the royal family. Cersei was to sit next to the king. Which left you alone for the first time in quite a while, and in unfamiliar waters.

"Now, do you remember what I told you?" Cersei came up from behind you in the mirror, letting her fingers play with the delicate braids the maid had finished pinning into place.

"Avoid the small counsel members, except maybe Renly who's harmless enough. Don't start conversations but don't ignore someone trying to talk to me either. And if a knight asks for my favor, it's impolite to refuse....I don't think Sandor would like that one."

"Oh," Cersei scoffed, "Favors are one of the few exceptions to the rule. As long as it's clear that you're loyal to your husband, it's just innocent fun."

"If you say so" You bit your lip. Your favor was a simple wreath of paper flowers meant to go over a knight's lance for good luck in battle. You rather doubted it would be put to any use.

The start of the tourney itself was delayed for various reasons, leaving you and the rest of the onlookers to sit in the summer sun waiting impatiently.

You found an isolated spot in the stands across from the royal pavilion. Every once in a while, you would catch the eye of your husband or your lover and smile at them, wanting to join them but knowing it was impossible.

"Sitting alone, my lady?"

You looked up before looking away with a scoff, "Good day, Lord Varys. Might I help you with something?"

"Just taking in the joust." Varys did not ask to join you before sitting, fanning himself with a small paper fan.

"You hate blood sports." you reminded him knowingly.

"I do." Varys nodded, "But I just wanted to check in. You haven't told him yet."

"He doesn't need to know, it makes no difference."

"It makes all the difference." Varys corrected you before growing thoughtfully silent. "Or could it be you haven't accepted the truth yourself?"

At this you stood, gathering your skirts. "I am not entertaining this conversation. Good day."

But Varys wasn't letting you off the hook that easily.

"What do you think happens to barren wives of noble men?" The spider hissed "Do you think they're just reluctantly tolerated? At best, the Hound could petition the king to annul your marriage. At worst-" he tossed you a scathing look. "Let's just say there's more than one way to get rid of a troublesome wife."

"Shut your horrid mouth," you snapped at him, drawing the attention of others now, "My husband would never do that to me!"

"Oh you pretty little fool, you've managed to actually fall for him." Varys sighed, "then you're not half as clever as I believed you to be."

"Is the Spider disturbing you, Lady Clegane?"

You glanced up and almost sighed with relief at the sight of white armour and golden hair.

"Yes, actually" you glared at Varys.

Jaime scowled at the Eunuch, who backed down with a simper. "Perhaps the Lady has heard enough of your poison, Lord Varys"

"Very well" was all the Master of Whispers said, leaving you to the tender care of your savior.

"Ignore him" Jaime urged you after you thanked him. "You look very beautiful today, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Thank you, Ser Jaime. In truth your sister arranged most of this."

"She's always loved arranging things, my sister"

"I should warn you" you glanced across the pitch to your husband, "Sandor doesn't like the idea of you talking to me."

"No?" Jaime quirked a brow and gave an amused chuckle, "I suppose I'm taking my life in my own hands then"

"Speaking of" you motioned to the jousting ring, "you aren't participating?"

"No, not this time." He looked disappointed, "just an onlooker. Your brother by law is jousting this first round though. Is he not?"

"If they ever start, he should be." you chuckled as the King grew drunker and more and more impatient.

Finally the jousters made their entrances. First was Ser Hugh of the Vale, a young handsome man with flaxen hair and shiny new armour. He took his rounds on a tawny gelding to the cheers of the crowd.

The younger ladies of the court were clearly taken with this newcomer and this overwhelming support seemed to make him cocky.

Gregor, even ahorse, absolutely dwarfed the man. He, like his brother, also rode a black stallion, but Gregor's was dappled with grey and didn't seem to have the same discipline Stranger had.

The cheers for the Mountain were less boisterous, more of a polite round of applause.

You expected him to report right to his end of the run, but instead your skin broke out in goose bumps as he directed his horse towards you.

"My Lady." He addressed you with surprising respect, "I request your favor for House Clegane."

It would be rude to refuse, you knew that. And if he was requesting in the name of your shared house, it would be disrespectful to turn him away.

Pale but forcing your hands not to shake, you slipped the wreath of yellow paper flowers over his lance.

"Good luck to you, Brother" you nodded and he nodded back before returning to the joust.

Maybe he did approve of you, you thought as you returned to your seat by Jaime.

The horses were set and the knights ready and with a blast of a trumpet, they were off. The horses went at each other at a full gallop and lances lowered as the knights drew closer to each other.

You had expected the shattering of shields, and the sounds of wood against plate.

You hadn't expected the visceral, wet crunch of bone and blood as Gregor's lance point went not through the chest, but through Ser Hugh's throat. His armour, not properly secured, had given Gregor the perfect opening to end the bout in one round.

The crowd went up with a cry of dismay that simmer down into horrified silence as Ser Hugh fought desperately for his last breaths.

"Gods" Jaime breathed before glancing at your pale face. "Next time I go into battle, remind me to ask for your favor first."

You didn't respond, not finding the jest amusing in the slightest.

Gregor dismounted and, with chilling calm, returned to your side of the pitch. His armor clanking with each step and movement until he reached over the barrier and dropped something in your lap.

Yellow paper flowers, now notably crumpled, and dappled by Ser Hugh's blood.

You couldnt find the words to congratulate him, still shell shocked from the sight of lance peircing throat.

Gregor didn't wait for your acknowledgement, simply walking away.

"Look on the bright side." Jaime tried to rouse you, "I think he likes you."

When you didnt laugh, Jaime noticed people had started to leave the stands. The pitch needed to be reset and it would be hours until the next bout.

"Come" he offered his arm which you took shakily. "Let's get you back where you belong."

------------------

"Drink" Cersei poured you a generous glass of red. Your hands still shook but your mind had come back from the shock.

Jaime had escorted you to Cersei's side, and the queen had a similar attitude to her brother about the whole situation.

"I think we can call that a success at least" she assured you, slipping her arm through yours. "You did everything right, he asked, you gave, it was a solid show of familiar acceptance. Now that Gregor has accepted you as a Clegane, the court will follow."

"I feel like I killed that man" you said without thinking.

Cersei pulled a confused face and shook her head. "Nonsense, people die in tourneys all the time sweetling."

"I feel sick" you breathed, closing your eyes as if to stop the world from spinning.

----------------

Sandor was wrought with fury, and for a moment wished he had joined the lists just so he could throttle his frustrations out.

"Look who it is" the irritating princeling under his care pointed over the crowd. Lady Sansa, hooked to her prince's arm, craned her neck and smiled a little.

"Congratulations on your brother's win today, My Lady" Sansa said politely, though she had been equally dismayed by the bloodshed.

"Your Highness, My Lady" you acknowledged the younger pair in turn before turning to your husband. "I'm returning to the keep. I'm not feeling too well"

Sandor gave a short nod, not asking for further.

"You should not walk alone if you are not well" Sansa insisted, clinging to Joffery and trying to subtly motion to Sandor who had been looming behind them for hours.

"I appreciate the concern but I'm sure I'll be fine" you insisted but the Prince shook his head, picking up on Sansa's implication.

"Nonsense. Dog, see to your lady. Lady Sansa and I will be fine without you."

Sandor didn't need convincing before whisking you back to the keep, Sansa watching with wide blue eyes.

"They are very romantic, aren't they?" She breathed, "I wanted to watch their wedding when we were at Winterfell, but mother wouldn't let me."

"It was boring" Joffrey scoffed. "Who cares about two servants getting married?"

"I thought she was a hedge knight's daughter you met on the road?"

Joffrey quickly remembered himself and the lie his mother had impressed upon him and gave a cruel smirk, "That's right, I must have misremembered."

Sansa ignored the irony in his voice, swept up in the idea of a poor knight's daughter and a grumpy bear of a man meeting by chance on the King's Road and being so taken with each other they married as soon as they could in a grand castle.

It was just like the songs and tales she loved so much.

-----------------

"That was horrible."

"That's tourneys for you" Sandor growled, "what did you expect?"

"Not that" you struggled to keep up with him.

He didn't respond, and you found the silence to be brutally intentional.

"Sandor" you stopped, watching and he continued to storm forth. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" He stopped but didn't turn to look at you.

"Are you mad that I gave Gregor my favor before the joust?"

His shoulder slackened a little as he rolled back to face you, looking tired. "No" he confessed, "That's not why I'm mad."

"But you are mad" you pressed. "With me?"

He shrugged.

"Please be honest" you begged him, "I'm still very new at all this. If I did something wrong, I need to know."

Sandor took a breath, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you. Not if you were just trying to help.

"Fucking Lannister" he growled, "he had you practically in his lap the whole bout. And I know he did it just to piss me off."

Your face softened with understanding. "Oh, my love. Is that it?" You didn't want to laugh at him, it would only piss him off worse. So instead you closed the gap between the two of you.

"The queen is one thing" he breathed, "I won't lie and say I love the idea. But she makes you happy, and she's making life here easier for you....but that fucking brother of hers" his voice deepened to a growl. "I know, about you and him."

You gave a sharp breath. "It was just the once."

"Once is enough."

You thought a moment. "If it makes things easier, I will do my best to avoid Jaime Lannister."

"You can try" Sandor grumbled, "but one word to Her Grace and he'll try to turn her against you."

"I doubt that." You assured him. "She knows how much I love you. I like to think she'd be understanding "

---------------------

The second half of the joust didn't come until late the next morning.

This time you found your seat on the same side as the royal family, keeping yourself further away from the front so Gregor wouldn't ask for your favor a second time.

This time the Mountain was riding against Ser Loras Tyrell, a sterling youth with light chestnut hair that hung in ringlets. His armour was a shimmering display of steel roses pressed into the plate. His shield bore the sigil of his house proudly.

His mount was a milk white mare, and as she passed Gregor's stallion the black horse began to prance in place anxiously.

Despite Gregor's best efforts, the stallion would not settle as they mounted for the joust. It became rowdy and impatient, and when the trumpet blared the stallion dashed frantically in the direction of the mare.

Loras's lance smashed against Gregor's chest, sending the giant into the dirt and knocking off his helmet.

The crowd erupted with cheers as Loras basked in their adulation. Gregor, ever a sour loser, called for his sword.

You waited for the Melee round to start, internally bracing for another death, but instead of taking the broad sword to the Knight of the Flowers, Gregor took the head off the stallion with a single blow.

You covered your mouth in shock as the stallion stiffened and collapsed, flooding the pitch with a small river of blood. Gregor turned his attention onto Loras.

Before the teenager got a chance to call for his own weapon, Gregor shattered the Tyrell sigil into a million splinters and reared back to smash his opponent as well.

The crowd cried for mercy, and from the royal pavilion a large black mass shot between Gregor and Loras. It took you a moment to realize that black mass was your husband, who had drawn his own sword and was fighting off his brother as well as he could.

Size and strength were on Gregor's side, but Sandor managed to dodge and parry ill aimed blows that were fueled by rage.

You pushed yourself through the crowd to the wooden gate that separated the crowd from the jousters. You wanted to scream, but knew if you did you'd be risking his life.

He needed focus, as even now the battle wasn't looking good for him.

"Stop this madness in the name of your King" Robert bellowed, enraged by this sudden outbreak of violence. Sandor was the first to stop, almost immediately as the order was given he ducked quick enough to avoid what would have been a vicious blow to the head.

Gregor stopped only when he realized all attention was on him, armed guards waiting for him to make a wrong move so they could skewer him from all angles.

Instead he tossed his sword like a toddler tosses a toy and stormed off, Robert calling for the guards to leave him be.

Loras had managed to recover himself enough to make a show of honoring Sandor for saving his life, prompting scores of cheers that left him looking rather embarrassed.

When the crowd departed you all but threw yourself at you husband, grabbing at him with clinging hands.

"Gods, you can't do that" you scolded him, blood pounding in your ears frantically. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack. How can you be so stupidly brave? Damn you!"

Sandor grumbled under his breath, letting an arm drape over you shyly. "Well, I just didn't want Gregor to get the satisfaction of 2 deaths in as many days."

That was a lie, but you let him keep it. You supposed it was easier for him to swallow than the thought he'd done something genuinely selfless for someone he barely knew.

By the end of the day, The Hound almost wished he'd let the kid get crushed if it meant he wouldn't have to bat off so many strangers trying to thank and congratulate him.

Joffrey took great pleasure in the attention. After all, he considered the Hound's success to reflect on him. If The Hound was fearsome, than he was even more so.

Somehow, you even ended up getting caught in the frenzy. The noblewomen who had scorned you now tried to pull you into their conversations. You weren't sure how to feel about that, but mostly smiled and nodded to be polite.

"You must tell us more about how you met, it's so unusual." A strange but well dressed woman pressed.

"It's romantic" another woman dressed all in blue insisted, you had forgotten her name, "I didn't meet my husband until my wedding day."

"Are you going to try for children?" An older woman interjected, "I know you're getting a late start of it, but you still have some good years. Don't let those know-nothing Maesters make you think otherwise."

"Oh, you poor thing" the conversation came back around to the first woman. "I can't imagine the size of those babies"

"Poor thing, my eye" the older woman laughed, "I can imagine the size of that-"

"Lady Florent, you stop right there!" the blue woman scolded her with a fierce blush across her face.

You gave brief but friendly answers, and before long you had them eating out of the palm of your hand.

Maybe Cersei was right.

Maybe you would get on here just fine.

[ten-cent-sleuth]

4, 5, and 30? For the fic writers ask?

Yayay, thank you so much for the ask!

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

Well. Most of them. xD But I’ll talk about the third WIP on my roster: my post-“Grace” angsty fic, as I call it in my pinned post. (The first and second WIPs in line I’ve technically started writing for!)

I don’t want to go into specifics since I am really excited to hear people’s reactions to The Reveal, but basically the story will explore my take on who the little girl is / what she symbolises to Carter in “Grace”. Because of course I’ve read the common perspective that Grace represents Carter’s wish for a child and stands in for her future daughter with Jack—but it’s never sit perfectly right with me, so this fic will be my alternative two cents.

And also an excuse to have Sam and Jack meet another mirror version of themselves! (This is what I was referring to in my tags on this post, actually!)

Ngl, this just might be the WIP I’m most excited about right now. But ah! I have my “48 Hours” fic and my “Moebius” fic to finish first. xD

5. First sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP?

This is from Old Thorns, a canon divergence AU for Sense and Sensibility that I will never give up on.

Major General Ashby subscribed to that rare but forcible conviction that all good things are worth not waiting for.

I cheated—this isn’t quiiiiiite the fifth paragraph—but oh well, the real fifth paragraph’s first sentence was not very intriguing. Ashby is an OC who is a friend of Colonel Brandon’s. He facilitates Brandon’s spending time with the Dashwood sisters while they’re all in Town, a plan by Marianne to surreptitiously console Elinor.

Because the canon divergence I mentioned? Yeah, it’s that Marianne finds out about Edward’s engagement much earlier but believes Elinor is unaware and thus takes it upon herself to protect and prepare her. If this sounds convoluted and contrived, trust me, my outline Doc is way worse.

But I love this WIP. I love it so, so much, and I really hope it won’t be an “unpublished” one next year.

30. Share a fic you’re especially proud of.

Sometimes I feel like “Inextricably” is when I peaked and everything I write from now on will pale and tremble in comparison, but I’m not going to share that one here. (Although you’re free to check it out on my AO3, ofc. xD) Instead, here is my one and only—as of now—X-Files fanfic since @agent-troi recently made me think about it so I just reread it last night.

I am proud of how many threads I pulled through various episodes, scenes, and themes to weave together this fic. And still there was one major parallel I didn’t get to include because it didn’t end up fitting into the flow of Mulder and Scully’s conversation. (It was about Scully’s grief about her father.) I also didn’t get to include several scenes near the start because they were dragging me down while the deadline was approaching, but I’m proud of all the now-unused research I made into cross-species influenza and immunisation science for those scenes, lol.

Some of the emotionally wrought lines (in particular I think of “See? You knew what to say to her after all” and “like he was holding his own beating, bleeding heart” – quoted from memory so might not be exact) took me by surprise. Like they came out of me without planning, without preconception, and whenever I revisit the fic, I genuinely still cannot believe I came up with them. In general I just think this is one of my most emotionally charged fics, and I’m proud to know I’m capable of it!

And of course, I am forever proud of my courage in signing up for my first gift exchange and in vanquishing my anxiety about a) posting in such an intimidatingly big fandom as TXF and b) writing for one of my favourite authors in the fandom who also happened to be quite well known?? Ig ultimately “Nature’s Impossibilities” is just very special to me, although I definitely don’t think it’s perfect. (Some of the aforementioned weaving is kind of forced-sounding in the text, agh!) But yeah, quite proud of it. :P

Keep the fic writer asks a-comin’! 👻

Thank you again for the questions. :)

[aniron48]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag, @anyawen! These were so much fun!

Answers under the cut, and tagging @sweetbabyangels, @mr-iskender, @stinastar, @aprettyspy and @thestalwartheart, in case you haven't done this already and it's of interest!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 30! That number seems astonishing to me now, considering I started writing fic in earnest like a year-and-a-half ago. 😁

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 138,358

3. What fandoms do you write for? James Bond, Glass Onion/Knives Out, and I just wrote my first fic for The Old Guard fandom, which has pulled me in by the lapels and refused to let me go. And the very first fic I ever wrote was for Stardew Valley.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? 1. A Good Man (Benoit Blanc/Phillip) 2. rain (00q) 3. open line (00q) 4. The More Loving One (00q) 5. Must Love Cats (00q)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Ok yes I definitely do and I love to *and also* I'm so sorry, I'm 288 days (yes I just checked) behind in responding to comments, because this year has been...something else. So, taking the opportunity to say that a) all of your comments are incredible bright spots for me, and b) I am working my way steadily through and enjoying your comments all over again as I re-read and respond to them.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? WELP (eyes my pile o' fics warily). If we go based off the fics with "Major Character Death" as a warning, for a certain value of angst, it's a tie between offering and and the wind at their backs. But both of these fics deal with grief, and the complicated emotions that result from the persistence of love even after the object of that love is gone, and there's some hope in that, too, I think.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? lmao most of the rest of them other than the two in number 6? 😂 this is a hard one to answer, so I'll list my RomCom-iest fics for now (Must Love Cats for 00q and in a space that they belong for The Old Guard). Special shout-out to 'tis the damn season, though, because the happiness at the end of this fic feels like some of the hardest fought, to me, and some of the tenderest I've written, I think.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No--I've gotten a few less than diplomatic comments, and a couple people making unflattering notes in bookmarks that I don't think they meant for me to see, but nothing terrible.

9. Do you write smut? ::offers you rain and for the age of the earth, and after as if I am a sommelier presenting you with some very fine wine:: "this one has notes of--" you know what I'm just going to stop there.

10. Do you write crossovers? I haven't yet!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, thank goodness (knocks on wood).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet! #goals

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Use. Your. Words., which was a collaborative poem for 007 fest 2023. 😁

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? I spent about five minutes hemming and hawing about this but you know what, it's impossible to pick. 😂

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Like Anyawen, I have aspirations of finishing all the ones hanging out in my Scrivener app...someday. Probably the one I have the most doubts about is a 5 + 1 fic where Bond tries out different activities post retirement. I still love the idea and some of the vision I had for this one, but it lives almost entirely in my head, still.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think maybe I have a good ear for language, both in terms of the rhythm of sentences and paragraphs, and for conveying a character's voice or accent. But it's hard to assess your own strengths, sometimes, so that's just my best guess!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm actively working on trying to be better at descriptions, especially in giving details about setting or background. I realized I give these things short shrift, sometimes, and want to change that!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I'll do it with languages I'm fluent in (and have done it with Spanish, since I'm a native speaker).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Stardew Valley, in What Dreams May Come.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Omg, another one that is almost impossible to answer! I think I have to go with all the flags we've hung. This is one of my least popular fics--it's a rarepair, the love depicted in it is complicated (though no less real), and it deals with light topics like, you know, structural racism in the United States. As one does. But it's a fic that's incredible close to my heart, for many reasons, and I remain so proud of this one.

Phew! If you have read all of this you deserve a cupcake. 💜

xoxo, Ani

[prolestariwrites]

Fandom: Love Between Fairy and Devil

Tags: Romance, Comedy, Fate, Soul mates

Pairings: Dongfang Qingcang/Orchid (main), Shangque/Jieli

Characters: Dongfang Qingcang, Orchid/Xiyun, Shangque, Jieli, Changheng, Xunfeng

Rating: T: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Summary: After Dongfang receives a warning for changing fate, he doesn't think much of it until he finds himself in a world where the Cangyan Sea and Shuiyutian are ruled by Xishan. Here, hellfire is just a long-forgotten legend, and as a royal Dongfang must submit to harsh treatment. His beloved Orchid is the goddess Xiyun, a ruler who is cold and unforgiving towards the Moon people.

Meanwhile, the Moon Supreme has changed into a Dongfang his family and friends do not recognize. Now timid and soft-spoken, Orchid and Shangque work together to find out what is behind the sudden change in his personality. It soon becomes clear he is Dongfang—but not their Dongfang.

As Orchid and Shangque attempt to find a way to bring their Dongfang back, they also need to keep the switch a secret: which also means passing off the gentle version as their bold and decisive king. At the same time, Dongfang wrestles with the drive to free his people and put Xishan in its place. But he also needs the goddess to get back home, something that may be impossible to get if he returns to his old self.

Note: Here is my submission for the LBFAD Mini-Bang! This story has gone through multiple versions and I must thank my partner @crisdrawsandcries for being so patient through the rewrites. Please go check out the amazing artwork that they did for this fic! I'm so grateful for all your hard work!

Below is the first chapter, and I'll be posting a new one every day through the mini-bang. You can also find the story over on AO3. Please enjoy!

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮

Hundreds of people mill about on the palace grounds, the doors open to celebrate the Harvest Moon festival. It is a holiday in the autumn on the night the moon appears largest and brightest in the sky, a week full of parties and fun for the tribe. Children run around with sparklers and treats sold from carts that line the square, while the adults share a drink or several of warm spice wine and buy trinkets for their special someone. Flags hang in decoration while the orange glow from the lamps give a warm feeling to the atmosphere. It is one of the best times of the year, the festival having a resurgence now that the clan is whole and the Moon Supreme has returned to his throne. He has vowed to return the old traditions to the clan, and worked to make this year’s festival the largest in history.

The Moon Supreme walks through the first day of the festival with his queen, happily watching Orchid exclaim over the decorations and costumes as she pulls him from vendor to vendor to sample everything. People call out their greetings to the royal couple as they walk by, and Dongfang nods in response, keeping his expression cool to hide his own excitement.

“Look!” Orchid lets go of his arm to stand in front of a stall selling mooncakes, fresh from the oven and glistening with sweet butter. 

“Good evening, Your Grace,” the vendor says with a bow. “How many would you like?”

“I’ll take two. No, three. How many do you want?” she asks, turning to Dongfang.

His mouth curls into a half smile. “We’ll just take all of them.”

“Oh! Yes! Right away!” 

The vendor busies himself packing up the four dozen or so cakes that are ready, and Orchid takes his hand. “What will we do with so much?” she laughs.

Dongfang shrugs. “Give them away, I suppose.” He signals one of the four guardsmen that are with them and instructs him to pay. “Have these given to whoever is on duty tonight,” he says.

Orchid picks one for herself and the rest go into several boxes that are taken back to the palace. “Do you want to try?” she asks through the first bite.

“No,” he replies. “I'd rather watch you.”

Orchid makes a pout and he chuckles in response. They continue their walk through the square to look at more tables of goods. A short while later they stop so Orchid can play a ring toss game, and Dongfang looks on with a smile, his arms folded.

Contentment settles on him like a warm blanket. After all the trials they had been through, the danger of war and pain of losing each other not once but twice, it is times like these that he feels most at peace: simple moments in which Orchid is happy, when they can be just a couple and not one of their many roles.

She is pouting again when she rejoins his side. “That game is nearly impossible,” she complains. “It's a wonder that anyone has won a prize.”

“Is he cheating?” Dongfang frowns. “If so, he must meet justice.”

“No! Nothing like that,” she quickly says, grabbing his arm. “I'm just not very good at it, that's all.”

“Well what is the prize? I can just buy you one,” he huffs.

Orchid rolls her eyes. ”That's not the point, blockhead. Let's keep going.“

The next stall that makes them pause is selling jewelry of different kinds. ”I should get you a new chain,“ Orchid murmurs as she starts peering through the selection.

Dongfang presses two fingers to the pendant shaped like an orchid that hangs around his neck. It is imbued with the goddess' magic, and similar to the way the Bone Orchid protects her with his power, the pendant protects him in turn. ”Why?“ he asks. ”It's perfectly fine.“

”I think a thinner chain would look nice.“ She takes one and holds it up, modeling it against his chest. ”See?“

”But that means I'd have to take it off.“

”Just for a minute,“ she replies.

”Even that is too long,“ Dongfang frowns. ”In the years since you've given it to me, I've never taken it off, not once.“

Orchid grins up at him. ”Even more reason to make sure it has a proper chain.“ She turns back to the vendor and says, ”We'll take this one.“

Dongfang laughs to himself as the man exclaims over the queen's excellent taste, turning around to observe the crowd. Some are watching them curiously but most are busy enjoying the festivities, the atmosphere warm and merry. He suddenly feels eyes watching him, so he quickly scans until his gaze falls on an old woman off to the side, sitting at a small booth that has seen better days.

With a glance to confirm Orchid is still shopping, he walks over to the woman with some interest. There are no wares on her cart, and she sits on a cushion on the ground covered in several shawls. Her face lifts as he approaches and Dongfang realizes she is blind in one eye. “Were you watching me, madam?” he asks.

“My lord,” she replies. “You and the queen are so happy, I could not help myself.”

“Thank you.” Dongfang gives another glance towards Orchid before continuing, “Do you have anything for sale that I could give the queen as a gift?”

“Nothing like that. I sell fortunes.”

He raises a brow. “Fortunes?”

“I can read the fates. Shall I read yours, my lord?”

In truth, Dongfang has had enough of fate for one lifetime, but he pities the old woman so he takes a seat on an opposite cushion. “Go on,” he says. 

She tilts her head before pulling a small bag from her cloak. It makes a clattering sound when she shakes it, and he learns that it contains coins when she dumps it out on the blanket between them. “Fortune and long life,” she says.

He examines their strange markings before chuckling. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” He reaches into his own robes for his purse, shaking out a few of his own coins. “How much do I owe you?”

“No need,” she says. She puts her hand out, and he slips three gold into her palm; but the second they make contact she jerks back. “My lord!” she hisses. “What have you done?”

“Please, take the money—”

“Your life line. It’s been altered.” Her eyes narrow as she drags her fingers along his palm. “You have changed fate, haven’t you?”

Dongfang swallows thickly. “My business is my own.”

“Those who change fate must pay a price,” she warns. “You cannot know the ripple effect such acts will have on the universe. It will come for you in the end.”

Her words leave him unnerved, but he hides it with a harsh laugh. “Your fortunes may scare the young lovers, madam, but I think I will sleep easy tonight if it’s all the same to you.” He gives her another coin before standing and heading back to find Orchid at the stall.

“Are you alright?” she laughs when he returns to her side. She reaches up and presses her fingers to his chin. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing,” he assures her, and together they continue through the festival.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dongfang has strange dreams that night, and when he wakes he reaches for Orchid, wanting her warm presence next to him to chase the last of it away. But when he reaches out, she is gone, and he opens his eyes blearily to see how far away she is on the bed.

Only the bed is not the bed—not his bed, anyway, and Dongfang bolts upright. He looks around in alarm: instead of the large four poster with rich fabrics and thick pillows, luxurious drapes, intricate carpet, and the window open for the sunrise, the room is dim and small, its simple decor more that of a poor villager. The bed is made of straw instead of down and the blanket is thin and threadbare. No lanterns hang from the ceiling and no light washes in from the balcony. It is a simple hut with one window and door, and it is that door that bursts open a moment later.

“Brother!” His younger brother Xunfeng hurries inside. “Quick. The queen has sent the black dragon.”

“What?”

“Hurry! We need to stop him.” Xunfeng flings open a chest and pulls out a crude-looking sword, one that Dongfang knows he would not be caught dead using. “They are here to steal more people to work at the palace, I know it. Together we can make a stand.”

Dongfang frowns as he watches Xunfeng slip on the scabbard. “What do you mean? Where is Orchid? Where am I?”

Xunfeng shoots him a withered look. “Don't talk nonsense. Shake off whatever dream you were having and hurry! The dragon will be here soon!”

“What dragon—?” But his question goes unanswered as Xunfeng hurries out of the hut again, the door banging against the wall.

Quickly Dongfang slides from the bed and heads outside. He winces at the sudden sunlight, and when he gets a chill he looks down. Instead of his royal robes he is wearing a simple tunic and trousers, not even a cloak to keep off the morning dampness. “What is happening?” he asks out loud.

“Brother! This way!”

More huts sit nearly on top of each other, and the villagers hurry to run inside and hide. Women clutch their children tight as the men grab pitchforks and knives to stand guard at the door. Several yards away, Xunfeng is organizing a small group into a defensive stance. Wanting answers, Dongfang pushes through the panicking crowd until he reaches his brother.

“You will answer me,” he growls, grabbing Xunfeng's shoulder. He turns him, ignoring his protest, but before he can answer there is a familiar roar above them that shakes the trees.

Dongfang looks up to see Shangque in his dragon form flying above them. The people around them scream in fright as they run, and Dongfang frowns in confusion. Shangque was never someone the Moon tribe feared, and they had all seen this form many times before. Unless that isn't Shangque, but who else would it be?

“Shangque!” Dongfang shouts. He waves an arm to get his attention, and sure enough the dragon rears back, its eyes focusing on him. “Enough! You're scaring them!”

“What are you doing?” Xunfeng hisses. He grabs his arm to yank it down and pull him away. “You'll be taken!”

“Taken where? Where is this? Why is everyone afraid?” Xunfeng isn't paying attention, so Dongfang does something very un-royal-like: he stomps his foot. “I demand answers!”

“What is wrong with you?“ Xunfeng snaps. ”You know the Black Dragon is dangerous. He's come to take away more of the Moon tribe.“

”Take them where?“

Just then the dragon lands, two huts going over with the force of the wind that escapes below him. There is more screaming as the last of the people run. Then a flash of light has Dongfang seeing spots for a moment as Shangque transitions back into human form.

”What is the meaning of this?“ he demands, stalking over to Shangque. ”You only take that form when commanded! Why would—”

Shangque grabs his arm and twists, forcing Dongfang to one knee with his wrist trapped against his back. “Unhand me!” he shouts. “You dare touch the Moon Supreme!”

“Moon Supreme?” Shangque asks curiously.

Xunfeng hurries forward. “Pardon my brother, he's not of sound mind. Please let me take him home—”

“Anyone who claims that title must be brought before the queen,” Shangque says. “No exceptions.”

The queen? “You mean Orchid? Where is she?” Dongfang demands.

“Keep quiet. You are under arrest.”

“Wait!” Dongfang strains to look at Xunfeng. “Where is Orchid?”

“Who's Orchid?” Xunfeng replies.

Something turns in his stomach as Shangque yanks him to hi feet. Anger suddenly boils and he reaches into his strength to find his Glazed Fire, deciding to teach his lieutenant a much-needed lesson. But there is no magic there, just the faintest trace, and as he flexes his fingers to make anything appear, even Hellfire, nothing happens.

“The goddess will decide your fate,” Shangque says.

“The goddess Xiyun?” Dongfang growls. “That is my wife, Orchid, the queen of the Moon Kingdom.”

Shangque gives a huff. “You speak very familiar about the goddess for a disgusting member of the Moon tribe. She'll want a word with you for sure.“

”Good,“ he says. ”I need a word with her as well.“ He turns to Xunfeng, who is watching with a panicked expression. ”I'll be back shortly once I get this sorted out. I think there is something wrong with Shangque. Make sure no one's been injured.“

”What?“ Xunfeng asks in a shaking voice. ”What's happened to you?“

”What do you mean?“

”Let's go, little Moon Supreme,“ Shangque says. He gives a laugh before there is another flash of light and the dragon returns. He picks up Dongfang to set him on his neck and takes off into the air, ignoring Dongfang's shouts as he tries not to fall off.

[marlinspirkhall]

Do you know why so many fics are tagged as Star Trek and not TOS?

(As near as I can figure), it's because people have been writing star trek fics since long before Star Trek got its retronym as The Original Series (which is why some 60+ year old star trek fans still sometimes say just "Star Trek" and not TOS!) and also why they tag their fics as such.

I'm guessing newer/younger fans who do this are doing it out of a sense of continuity, but I've seen people say they tag fics as just "Star Trek" when the interpretation is loose enough that it could be in either universe (which some people say is impossible due to the characterisation, but it usually works well for one-shots, drabbles and vignettes).

The opposite problem actually happened with AOS: you can tell if a fan uses AO3, because they came up with the "Alternate Original Series" tag because that's how it was tagged on AO3, before Paramount finally settled on "The Kelvinverse" (I haven't fact checked this, but this is what I've heard from people who were active in the fandom at the time).

[wisecrackingeric-2]

Summary:

Set ten years after the events of Resident Evil 4; Luis, Leon and Chris have been in a long-term relationship and finally decided to have a Son.

Only Luis finds out that being a Father reminds him of his a Grandfather more than he was expecting.

So one night when their Son wakes up crying, Luis decides to take it upon himself to comfort both himself his baby.

Absolute gut-wrenching Fluff ensues.

((While this Fic is supposed to be read as apart of my ‘Luis Serra Lives’ AU, it can be read as a stand-alone too! It can also be easily read as just a Leon/Luis Fic as Chris doesn’t make an in-person appearance))

A/N: Repost cuz I didint realise until now that I actually haven’t posted the fic itself onto Tumblr!!!! If y’all could check it out on AO3 too that would mean the world,, this work is very sentimental to me and yes I did almost cry writing it what of it

———

Luis wasn’t usually a light sleeper.

At least, he didn’t think he was. Not until he had his own child, that is.

Most nights nowadays were spent sandwiched against Leon or Chris- Whoever was home at the time- With his back facing their chests, and their arms draped protectively over his shoulders. Usually accompanied by one or the others’ legs being entangled between Luis’, too.

The two of them usually came home late, and if Luis wasn’t awake, they’d slip under the covers with him wordlessly- Knowing that they’d probably be forced to wake up earlier than their boyfriend in the morning, anyways.

But Luis didn’t mind. He never minded; Putting up with their grouchy, sleep-deprived attitudes and their constant old-married-couple back and forth banter was more than reasonable for him. Especially after everything.

August 2004 felt like a lifetime ago now. So much had changed and so many years passed that it was impossible for Luis to look back and feel any connection towards the man he once was.

He remembered- extremely vividly- lying on that cold, hard concrete and practically begging for Leon to tell him he was a good person during what he was convinced were his final moments. His mouth was full of blood and he could hardly keep a cigarette between his lips, let alone light it.

He’d asked Leon, in an act of desperation, ‘What do you think, Leon? People can change, right?’

It was a desperate plea for forgiveness. He wanted to change so badly yet he always still retraced those same habits that got him in that position in the first place. He thought back to his Grandfather in his ‘dying’ moments; And he wondered if he’d be ashamed or proud.

But Leon had saved him regardless. In every way a person could be saved. Not only did he literally shove some kind of miscellaneous herb into his mouth and pick him up to drape his bloody body over his shoulders- But once they’d arrived back in the USA, Leon did everything in his power to make sure Luis didn’t slip into that self-deprecating cycle of guilt and self-pity he seemed to be oh-so familiar with.

Leon proved to Luis that people could change. And not only that, but people were deserving of love regardless of what they have done.

Luis loved Leon in a way that was so undeniably human and raw and vulnerable it almost hurt at times.

The pair of them couldn’t keep their eyes- or hands- off of each other.

Then Luis was introduced to Chris Redfield; Big, friendly, puppydog-like Chris Redfield who so painfully obviously had the biggest crush on Leon it made Luis feel like he was going insane. The two of them would stammer and blush and shift their weight awkwardly every single time they were alone; And, hell, Luis would be lying if he said he didn’t find the guy attractive as all hell. So they approached him about the possibility of Polyamory;

And here they all were, ten years later, so ingrained and fixed in each other's lives that they practically couldn’t be seen apart from one another. Their day-to-day was so domestic- so routine- And Luis wouldn’t have had it any other way.

If you had asked him ten years ago where he thought he’d be in life, his answer would probably be dead.

Past-Luis probably couldn’t have even fathomed being so unabashedly loved, so unashamedly domestic and genuinely happy.

Was he always happy? No, far from it, in fact. There were plenty of nights where he still felt the ghost of Krauser's knife holed in his spine, or the squirming Plagas inside of his chest like a ghost limb. Sometimes his face still grew hot from the memories of his Grandfather burning alive in his childhood home. He found it hard to fall asleep by himself sometimes- So Leon and Chris would always make an effort to comfort him. One of them would be pressed up against his back, and the other laying across his chest. Reminding him with their physical bodies that he was Ok.

Tonight was exactly one of those nights; Luis had been tossing and turning in his sleep relentlessly since he got home and shed himself of his usual Lab coat. Although the agreement with the US government was that he’d tag along with Leon on missions, he found himself working in the Labs with Rebecca more often than not- And of course, that eventually turned into a full-time job after Leon had finally retired.

Still, though, Luis came home later than expected. And the days stress weighing down on him seemed to trigger some deep-seeded memories from his childhood that he’d rather not forget.

That seemed to usually be his brain's go-to trauma response, at least; ‘Flash some memories of your Grandfather while you try to sleep and you’ll be A-OK’.

Luis couldn’t remember when he had made it to his bed- Nor could he remember when Leon had slipped under the sheets beside him- But he hardly slept regardless. He tried counting sheep and snuggling into his partner's embrace; but nothing helped. There wasn’t even anything specific that was causing this lack of sleep. He just.. Couldn’t. He just had to let his brain replay memories of his childhood with his Grandfather like an awfully cruel movie.

So when the sound of his Son’s crying filled the air in an ear-piercing scream, Luis was already prepared and sitting up on his elbows before Leon had even stirred awake.

“I’ll go get the baby,”

Luis whispered, leaning over to kiss Leon on the temple of his head before forcing himself up straight.

His voice was husky and gravelly, and despite having been awake for at least a few hours his limbs were all still too stiff to avoid a popping noise when they stretched.

Leon responded with a quiet ‘hhhhrmmphhh’ before he shuffled back down under the covers, pressing the ends of his blanket up to his ears in an attempt to drown out the baby’s crying.

Luis just huffed a laugh at the sorry sight of his tired partner and got up on his feet with a groan.

Standing up to exit their shared bedroom, Luis did his best to tie up his long, graying salt-and-pepper hair in a messy half-ponytail with the hair tie he always insisted on having wrapped around his wrists. Years ago, Luis had insisted to Leon that ‘He wasn’t trying to grow his hair out, he just didn't trust the barbers’.

But ten years later with his hair reaching his mid-back at this point, that was obviously a lie. Besides, Luis liked it like this; From what he could remember, his Grandfather always kept his hair long, so it was sentimental in a weird way.

“Loooeeeeesss….”

Leon reached an arm out from beneath the blankets to grab at his’, blue eyes blinking slowly to try and adjust to the light.

“Mwhere are you goin’ love…?”

“I just told you,” Luis chuckled, “I’m gonna go put Matteo back to sleep”

Leon made a noise of protest and tried to sit up from underneath his sheets, pulling Luis in closer by the arm.

“Nonono, don’ get up, I can go get him..”

“Sssshhhh, just go back to bed mí amor,”

Luis gently pushed Leon back down onto his pillow with one hand, leaning over to press a sleepy kiss against his lips.

“I was already up. You just go back to sleep, sí?”

The blonde huffed a reluctant sigh but still sunk back under the covers regardless. His lips were pursed in a little pout as he let go of Luis’ hand.

“But you’re always up to get him. Y’know I’m happy to do it once ‘n a while, right?”

Luis paused for a moment, biting his lip as he tried to figure out how he should respond. Leon was half-asleep, a quarter of the way to being absolutely dead to the world; but he was still right.

Luis was always the one to go put Matteo back to bed when he woke up screaming like this.

He always insisted that Chris or Leon stay in bed, go back to sleep; And tonight was no exception. But being faced with the question he suddenly found that he couldn’t actually figure out why.

Luis always just assumed that it was the least he could do in return. Chris and Leon, despite being ‘retired’, were still constantly called into the office or on smaller Ops- Sometimes for days at a time, even. And while Luis had his day job with Rebecca in the labs, they were much more forgiving when it came to time off.

His two lovers had given him the entire world, in his mind. They’d given him a space to live and to grow as a person and they’d given him more love than any other human being had ever shown him; and most importantly, they gave him the opportunity to be a Father. They all were.

He got the opportunity of a lifetime to look after someone just as his Grandfather had looked after him.

So maybe Luis just wanted to repay them in some way.

They always insisted he didn’t need to do that; that him just being there was more than enough.

But that nagging voice in the back of his head never left, no matter how hard he tried.

“I know…”

Was all Luis could respond with, his voice a little deflated in defeat.

“Just… Just let me do this for you, just this once. ¿Ok, cariño?”

“Okay…” Leon yawned, his voice still slightly reluctant as he snuggled his face further into the pillow. And like a light, he was out within seconds.

Luis smiled and huffed a breath of air through his nose at the sight of his sleepy partner. With one final ruffle of his blonde hair, Luis was snapped back to reality when he heard his Son wailing once more from upstairs.

Luis made his way up to the second floor with a slouched posture and dragging feet; he slipped his reading glasses on somewhere half-way up, and was thoroughly greeted by the high-pitched cries of his baby the second the door creaked open.

Matteo’s room was simple; It didn’t need to be very big, after all (And even so, it was bigger than Luis’ old childhood room with his Grandfather.)

The walls were covered in pastel blue-and-pink flowers painted on courtesy of Ashley one weekend, and the roof was littered in pale blue, glow-in-the-dark stars.

Matteo's cot sat tucked up against the wall, and stuffed toys littering the floor where they must’ve slipped off and landed in a maze-like heap. Luis could just barely make out his Son’s silhouette against the bars of the cot;

And Luis’ heart promptly shattered into a million pieces when he saw Matteo reach out his little baby-arms into the sky at the sound of his entering the room.

Luis skilfully stepped over the pile of toys laying across his floor, before pressing a gentle hand against the wooden bars of Matteo’s cot.

Just as expected, the baby had kicked his blankets off- Probably the cause of his screaming- And had his tiny hands balled up in even tinier fists as big, fat tears fell down his chubby cheeks.

Luis cooed in an attempt to keep himself from crying.

“Ssssshhhhh… ¿ver? Estoy aquí, Teo…”

His words were more for soothing himself rather than the baby as he felt his voice grow wobbly at the sight. Ever since ‘Teo’ was born, Luis became an absolute crybaby- Chris and Leon teased him about it constantly, but never in a mean-spirited way.

Seeing his Son in any kind of discomfort felt worse than any knife to the back ever could; His heart squeezed and all he wanted to do was wipe away those tears forever and never let go of his little boy until he was smiling and laughing again. He wanted to hold and cradle him every second of the day- and if he could, he would.

‘You’re always hogging our son’, Leon had teased one day, watching Luis bounce their kid against his hip. From beside him, Chris reached over to give Matteo a kiss on the cheek.

‘Yeah, you never let us hold him’

‘¡Tu idiotas! You can hold him if you want!’ Luis had responded, feeling a little guilty. But his partner's laughter confirmed it was only a joke.

‘Ignore us, Luis. Teo likes it more when you hold him anyways’

‘He likes it more when you guys tuck him into bed’, Luis had offered, earning laughter from Leon, whose index finger was being held tightly by Teo’s little hands.

Luis was promptly broken out of his trip down memory lane by another sharp, high-pitched scream out of Matteo’s mouth, and although Luis did his best to soothe his Son by rubbing the pads of his thumb across his reddened and tear-stained chubby cheeks- It was no use. Matteo kept screaming and grabbing his hands out into the air, trying to reach for Luis’ long locks.

Through the screaming, Luis couldn’t help but chuckle a little; Teo was always grabbing onto his hair one way or another. He figured it must’ve been some kind of self-comforting baby thing, so he just let him. Matteo hardly ever pulled at it, anyways. He just kinda… held on.

No matter how hard Luis tried to sway his baby boy back to sleep from above the cot, it was all for naught. He just kept crying and wailing, and the longer it went on, the more Luis couldn’t handle seeing his Son in tears like this.

So against his better judgment, Luis cupped his hands underneath his small back and lifted him up with a small ‘There we go…’, cupping the baby’s head inbetween his hand and elbow, firmly grasping onto his leg with the other.

Luis had very quickly figured out that the usual bouncing and ‘there-there’s did not work on his Son. The motion only served to make his crying worse generally, so the brunette resorted to- extremely softly- rocking Matteo back and forth in his arms.

That only worked for a couple moments before Teo was back to wailing again. This time slightly quieter, Luis noted to himself victoriously. He silently wondered if he ever cried as much when his Grandfather took care of him.

He couldn’t tell if he was just tired and therefor had his emotions dialed up to 100 (You know what they say; Never trust your brain past 10:00 PM) Or if he was genuinely upset by his Son’s crying, but Luis felt practically desperate to get him to stop. He didn’t even care about the noise; Just seeing his little bundle of joy’s face all scrunched up and wet from big, fat tears rolling down his face was infinitely more worrying to him than the noise.

So, as gently as possible, Luis bought Matteo up to his face, and after pressing his delicate little forehead against his, Luis started to place feather-light kisses against his baby’s skin. He placed them so tenderly that his own skin tingled from the sensation. As if Matteo was made from porcelain.

And to Luis, he may as well have been.

Every tiny action, every small breath was met with internal cringing- Luis was so self-conscious of just how unfathomably small Matteo was that even just brushing his nose up against the baby’s was enough to make his heart squeeze in worry.

But, at least there was one bright side; Matteo was slowly starting to quieten down his wailing. Every pillowy kiss against his plush skin forced Matteo to stop howling until eventually his voice was broken down to cracked sobs.

But even that seemed to come with it’s own price; Matteo never stopped crying. Screams were replaced with wobbly little whimpers and whines, and his bottom lip quivered every time those big tears of his fell down his chin.

Luis didn’t even know it was possible for his heart to ache with empathy more than it already had, and he secretly wished Matteo would just start screaming again so he didn’t have to see his beautiful boy sobbing silently like this.

“Nonononono, no llores niño hermoso, no llores…”

Luis pressed his forehead up against Matteo’s and squeezed his eyes shut, dipping him just a tiny bit so that his long, curly hair would fall over Teo’s head like a curtain; engulfing the baby in darkness even further. He pressed kisses against Matteo’s small nose and wiped away the tears with his own- At least he tried to with his fast they were falling.

“Deja de llorar por mí, sí? Deja de llorar… Deja de llorar…”

Luis tried to hum in between his words of encouragement, and even though Matteo probably couldn’t understand him- It seemed to be working regardless.

“¿Ver? Ahí tienes, no llores nena, lo estás haciendo tan bien… Tan bueno para mí, Teo”

All Luis could do was let his words of encouragement and comfort sink into his Son's skin, even if he couldn’t fully understand them. He hoped that somehow the message got through regardless of their language barrier, that by some miracle, Matteo understood what Luis was trying to tell him and took it to heart.

“Te amo, Teo. ¿Tú lo sabes? Te amo mucho más de lo que podrías saber. Te amaré pase lo que pase”

Luis couldn’t tell who he was talking to at this point; Matteo or himself. But it didn’t matter either way. His words rung truer than anything that had ever come out of his mouth.

Luis had spent so much of his life lying. He’d spent so much of it running and selling his soul to the highest bidder that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be so open and vulnerable with someone.

His Grandfather’s cottage, Valdelobos, Umbrella, Los Illuminados; The names blended together in his mind at this point.

He’d spent too long running.

He found out what a true chance at life looked like and it looked like Leon, Chris and Matteo.

Every stereotype and throwaway comment that Luis heard about how staring at your baby is like ‘Love at first sight’ was so unbelievably true; Luis just wished he could express his love in a way his beautiful boy could understand.

But Matteo still remained awake. His tears had almost come to a complete halt with Luis’ soft words, but he was still staring up at his dad with those big, sleepless, curious brown eyes; it made Luis chuckle.

“No puedo dormir, ¿Oye? Yo tampoco puedo…”

Luis hummed thoughtfully for a moment, methodically running his thumb across Matteo’s soft, thin brown hair before coming up with an idea. He smiled at the thought alone, and almost felt his heart leap out of his throat when Matteo half-smiled back.

Luis began to rock Matteo back and forth as he began to sing a song he just barely remembered his Grandfather singing to him when he was just a boy;

“Duérmete mí niño, duérmete mí amor,

Duérmete pedazo de mí corazón,”

Luis smiled as Matteo began to quietly babble in response, holding him even closer.

“Este niño mío que nació de noche

Quiere que lo lleve a pasear en coche.”

Matteo reached out his tiny hands to grasp at Luis’ stubble, running his fingers over the hair as his little eyes began to droop lower and lower. It took all of Luis’ energy not to grab his face and squeeze him with a million kisses right then and there.

“Este niño mío que nació de día quiere que lo lleve a la dulcería,”

Luis let his eyes flutter shut as Matteo yawned and lulled his head to the side. Tiny even breaths let the brunette know that his Son had fallen asleep- Yet he kept singing, determined to finish the song. Just like his Grandfather always would.

“Duérmete mí niño, duérmete mí amor,

Duérmete pedazo de mí corazón.”

Once the lullaby had softly ended, Luis just stood there. Cradling Matteo in his arms silently. The only light source being from the small, glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. Not a single creak could be heard, in sharp comparison to just a moment ago. The loudest noise in that room were Matteo’s tiny breaths.

Luis didn’t want to let go. Leon and Chris teased him about it all the time, but he truly, truly didn’t want to part with his beautiful boy. He didn’t want this moment to end. A moment that felt so precious and so loving that Luis knew he was bound to remember it for years to come.

Luis wanted to protect Matteo with his whole world- he knew it was unrealistic, and that eventually, his Son would grow up to be his very own person- but that didn’t mean the need wasn’t still there. Luis had seen things that no single human being should have ever experienced, and yet his own baby crying was somehow worse than all of that combined. He never wanted to see Matteo cry again. He wanted to hold him and kiss him and shelter him from anything that could ever hurt him.

Just like his Grandfather had for Luis all those years ago.

That was almost entirely the reason Luis had approached Leon and Chris about the idea of having a child in the first place;

He wanted to be just like his Grandfather.

It was strange. The older he got, the less he remembered of the man- yet the more he missed him like a child. Luis thought about him quite often. And even more so now that he was a father himself.

In retrospect, his Grandfather was hardly there in his life for a very long time. He was only ten- maybe twelve at the most- years old when he had died. Yet Luis remembered as clear as day the way his knees trembled and his fists balled up hard enough for his fingernails to be imprinted onto his palms when he watched his childhood home burst into flames. He stared at that fire until it was nothing but ashes in the morning, quite literally.

Luis had gone through all the stages of grief a million times over. He used to be mad at his Grandfather for hiding that wolf’s bite that inevitably lead him to becoming sick; he used to resent him, in fact, insisting that his work as a biologist would be enough to reprimand it.

Luis used to beg for his Grandfather to come back- and, hell, he still sometimes did. He still cried like the grief was fresh, and he still found constant solace and comfort in Leon and Chris’ arms.

Luis remembered nothing but good things about his Grandfather.

He remembered how the two of them would go fishing on warm afternoons.

How he’d make him tomato soup every night after dinner.

He remembered how wise and intricate his words seemed to seven-year-old-Luis, when in actuality, he was just speaking fancy English.

He remembered how his Grandfather still encouraged his Trans identity and love for Biology despite their circumstances.

He remembered how he’d encouraged Luis’ fantasies surrounding Don Quixote- how he’d recreate the fantastical scenes and read him every version of the books under the sun back-to-front just so he could fall asleep.

Hell, Luis still kept an old copy of Don Quixote in Matteo’s room just for good luck; him and his two partners had even agreed on the name for their baby after seeing the name ‘Matteo’ in the credits of a Don Quixote adaptation and finding it stuck. Luis hoped someday he’d be able to read his favorite book ever to Teo and he’d enjoy just as much as he did.

When Luis said he wanted to be a father;

What he really meant was he wanted to be like his Grandfather.

He wanted to give that same undying love and affection to another person. He wanted to be his Son’s hero and somebody who could protect him from anything.

He wanted to be there for Matteo in a way his Grandfather never could before he died;

He wanted to watch Matteo grow up and live a full life.

Just like how his Grandfather always wanted.

Luis wanted to be there for Matteo right until the very end.

Luis wanted to be just like his Grandfather for Matteo. He wanted to make him proud.

“Te quiero mucho, Teo. También habrías amado a mí Abuelo.”

Luis hadn't even noticed he’d begun crying, let alone the quiet footsteps from behind him until a small knock on the door allerted him to another presence in the room. He was forced out of his forehead-touching position with Matteo to look around and see Leon leaning against the doorframe; his appearance tired and disheveled with a soft smile still on his face.

“How’s Teo?”

“He’s good,” Luis smiled, whispering lightly.

“I just got him back to sleep.”

Leon made his way to Luis’ side and cupped his Son’s head with one hand, leaning down to press a gentle, cautious kiss on his head.

Luis’ eyes never broke away from Teo’s face, even as Leon leaned his head against his shoulder. The brunette reciprocated, feeling his partner let out a sigh of relief.

“Where’s Chris?”

Luis broke the silence, desperate for some conversation. He felt like he was about to burst into tears if he didn’t talk soon.

“He’s staying with the Winter’s tonight, remember?”

The brunette just hummed at Leon’s response. Ethan Winters; the name sounded familiar. He was pretty sure they were expecting a child soon, too. Chris seemed to be very protective over him; Which seemed deserved after what he heard they’d been through. Luis hoped he’d get to meet them someday.

Another beat of silence.

“…Luis?”

Leon finally spoke up, his voice soft; as if their tender moment was made of porcelain.

“…Are you Ok?”

“I’m fine.” Luis was quick to answer. Too quick. Leon gave him that look and his partner was forced to relent, shaking his head slightly with a small smile. If he wasn’t smiling, he’d probably be crying.

“I will be fine,”

Luis corrected himself. Leon always knew when something was up, and Luis didn’t have the heart (or the energy) to try to lie. He wore his heart on his sleeve in his old age.

“I’m just… I don’t know. Difícul de explicar. Words don’t seem to cut it.”

“I understand.” Was all Leon said in response, snuggling further into the crook of his neck as his hand remained on Teo’s head.

Luis was grateful Leon didn’t try to pry further.

The silence between them, however, was too much for Luis to bear. To keep himself from breaking down and potentially waking Matteo up, he gave his Son one last kiss on the forehead- letting it linger for a couple moments- before slipping him back into his cot and pulling the up blankets over him.

‘Buenes noches, niño hermoso”

He whispered, running the pad of his thumb against his cheeks for a beat before he reluctantly pried himself away from his sleeping Son.

The second he turned around to face Leon, it was like all of the night's anxieties and grief caught up to him in an instant; his body suddenly felt like lead and his eyes stung with tears.

He could barely make out Leon’s expression in the darkness, but he knew from gut instinct alone that it was one of sympathy.

“L-Leon…?”

Luis whimpered, his lips quivering as his eyes welled up.

“D-Do you think my Grandfather w-would be proud of me…?”

Leon’s posture softened in an instant.

“Oh, Luis…”

Luis couldn’t hold it together much longer; he collapsed into Leon’s arms in an instant, feeling awfully small and vulnerable as he cried silently into his partner's shoulder. He could hear Leon murmur some reassuring words from above him, but he couldn’t make them out; the blondes chin rested atop his head as his arms squeezed him tight, rocking Luis back-and-fourth in an attempt to soothe him.

Luis, ironically, felt a little bit like how Teo must’ve been feeling just a moment ago.

“You wanna know something, Luis?”

Leon finally said loud enough for him to hear, pulling away just slightly so he could cup Luis’ face in his hands; wiping away the tears from his cheeks.

“Your Grandfather would be so, so proud of you. I know that for a fact. He would be over the moon for you”

“B-but w-w-what if I’m n-not doing e-enough for T-Teo? I-I j-just w-wanna be like m-mí A-Abuelo..-“

“You’re doing more than enough, Luis. You’re going so above and beyond you have no idea. Listen to me,”

Leon grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact.

“You’re not alone. You understand? You have us. And if your Grandfather were still alive, he would be by your side and telling you what an incredible job you’re doing. You are the best Father, understood? Your Grandfather would be so proud of you.”

That was enough for Luis to break down into tired, open-mouthed sobs against Leon’s chest. The two of them had to return to their own bedroom to keep Matteo from waking up; But it was worth it.

Luis stayed curled up against Leon for the entire night, having his hair combed through by his partner's hands as he cried against his shirt.

Luis eventually fell asleep. And for the first time in quite a while, he actually had a decent night's sleep.

He had Leon. He had Chris, and he had Matteo.

He promised to himself that he would make his Grandfather proud.

He would be a good Father to Teo. He would do anything for his beautiful boy.

And nothing in the world could ever change that.

[jennycalendar]

Hi! I'm new here (here being your blog, calendiles fandom, and also just...Buffyverse fandom in general? I haven't been here that long haha) and I finally got around to checking out your work on AO3 and uuuhhh you've written SO MUCH!!! So first of all, THAT'S AMAZING, GOOD JOB!! But second of all, I have no idea where to start reading... Can I maybe get like a rec from you of your top 5 faves? (Not fan faves, but YOUR faves, fics/series you're most proud of, etc.) Please and thank you :)

oh, wow, this is so sweet <333 hello! i have seen your fic in the buffyverse tag and lurked more than once there. expect some reviews at SOME point when my brain will allow me, because you are adding some excellent sapphic/nonbinary representation to the buffyverse in a very lovely way. i deeply appreciate your energy.

as for my top five faves -- i appreciate your specification that they have to be MY top five faves, because i really was about to just point to the braveryverse as smth that i think you personally might like. (not a single straight person, found family, etcetc). but my personal top five is a lil different than the stuff that's the most popular w/ fandom at large. (not by too much though.)

all of these range from "a little lengthy" to "novel-length" but i think they are worth it! and they are also all complete! (except for the first one on the list, which has a sequel in the works, but everything PUBLISHED is complete!)

1. never mind the years of wasted time

so this is my long-standing baby that i am blogging about all the time! it's so important to me! i cannot overemphasize how much this 'verse means to me. it's an improbable little everybody lives/nobody dies au set about three years after canon, and in my heart it does kind of stand as a spiritual follow-up to canon, in that the emotional place that giles starts the story is very much a continuation of the emotional place that he ends canon in. there are so many details within the main fic (what you make) that i cannot pack into a single summary (giles and jenny's eight-year-old son, who she left sunnydale to raise! giles and buffy trying to figure out how to reckon with the concept of giles being a parent to a kid that isn't her! jenny's adoring extended family! a subplot that is literally just all about how giles's parents met and fell in love! giles and jenny's individual baggage from their complicated parents and how that informed the decisions they made with each other and with/for the kids they were in charge of!) also it is impossible to read the fic and come away NOT loving art or alice or nora. nora is literally my url now because i tricked myself into loving her so hard by writing her all the time.

anyway yes! top of my list, this is the thing i am the most proudest of, it is literally novel-length and i have been considering learning book-binding just because i want the physical experience of making it into something that i can hold.

2. as day follows night

this is also long but um, less long? this is The Faith Fic. i don't really know how to talk about it without spoiling it (or if i've already talked about it and spoiled it, or if the tags will spoil it...) but suffice it to say that this fic is about faith right after killing the deputy mayor, and her decision to ally herself with an all-powerful witch. or more like "attach herself." like to the witch's skirts. and hang on while the witch drags her around trying to get her to let go. (this girl has some attachment issues). it's got fuffy it's got fairy tales it's got the force of platonic love being the most powerful force in the world <3 and i think it is the first long fic i ever wrote where i had an outline and a plot that made sense and consistent tone throughout!

3. the tale of princess imogen

FAIRYTALE CALENDILES WHAT MORE CAN I EVEN SAY??? also some background fuffy and tillow bc obviously! anyway this whole fic is about jenny the witch pining helplessly for giles the acting monarch and losing her mind a little when princess buffy lets it slip that he's in love with some dark-haired lady who's constantly hanging around the castle all the time. and then subsequently coming up with a Magic Plan to ruin his chances of ever being able to win this dark-haired lady over, because what if she's bad for the kingdom? what if she's just trying to grab at power? THIS IS FOR POLITICAL REASONS SHE IS VERY NORMAL.

4. illumination

this one is about giles and jenny both realizing that they share the experience of being closeted bisexual individuals in a het-passing relationship & subsequently figuring out how to process this. (so obviously chapter three is pegging. but it's THEMATICALLY IMPORTANT pegging. and if explicit stuff isn't your cup of tea, the first two chapters are totally sfw!)

5. private life

i am actually really proud of this one! this is set in season four and it's about xander walking in on giles kissing a man and having to reckon with a lot of complicated internalized biphobia. i love xander so much. of course he has to make this list. (and this is DEFINITELY the shortest fic on this list lmao.)

also honorable mentions to north star and it's the principle of the thing, which are the fics that i write when i'm not feeling like writing a Big Complicated Interlock-y project, so if you wanna read something of mine that will (uh, someday) be updated and is still in progress, that would be where to go right now until the what you make sequel shows up! north star is essentially a (mostly) scooby genfic that's set in season six where willow resurrects jenny to prove herself to giles, and it deals with the fallout of that. it's the principle of the thing is a super trope-y fic about giles and jenny getting green card married in the middle of season one because that's what you do when your workplace enemy might have to leave :) you propose marriage so he can't :) it's normal :) she's normal :) she's fine :) do not look her in the eye

[chaotictarlos]

I’ve always dreamed of me and you, now here we are

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tag: Secret Dating AU, Social Worker!Carlos Reyes, Professor TK Strand, ex's to lovers, warnings to be added, smut in later chapters

Summary: It's a tale as old as time, meeting the right person but during the wrong time of life. TK Strand and Carlos Reyes dated in college but parted ways when they graduated, not knowing they would ever see each other again. Six years later, Carlos is working as a social worker in Travis County and TK has just accepted a position as a professor at The University of Texas at Austin. They run into each other when a mutual friend invited TK out for the evening.

Authors Note: Thank you to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing for me. I hope you guys are enjoying this fic as much as I am! Leave me a comment and check out my season 4 Fics!

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

-

C H A P T E R F I V E

TK settles into Austin a lot easier and faster than he thought he would. 

He finds a favorite coffee place, a place that makes decent Chinese, and even a favorite grocery store. TK also finds a few AA meetings and starts the process of getting a sponsor because he knows that big changes in his life - and the stress that comes with being a teacher - can upset the balance and cause him to crave and he doesn’t want to give into any temptations that he might come across.

His therapist will be proud of the steps he’s taken without being told when he tells her.

TK’s also proud of himself. It’s been two years since his last slip up and he finally feels like he’s in a place where he has control of his addiction. He doesn’t want to mess that up.

He settles into teaching his classes and after the first two weeks it doesn’t feel as scary and overwhelming. His students seem to like him and he’s settled into a nice routine of teaching and giving homework. TK actually finds that he enjoys grading the homework and helping shape what people know about the environment. 

All in all, things are going well for him.

He just can’t get himself to stop wanting Carlos. 

TK spends so much time with his new friends that he ends up seeing Carlos most nights and while it’s nice and he’s enjoying getting to know him all over again, it stirs up old feelings and hopes that he had long since smashed down. 

He finds himself thinking a lot about the time they were together and how good they had been. It makes him ache for a time that he knows he’ll never get back, that he can’t get back. He’s not the same person he was when he was with Carlos, and the person he is now he’s not sure Carlos would even want.

TK’s more broken than he was in college and that was something nobody ever wanted - at least not for long.

TK’s ex made that plenty clear.

So he tries not to think so much about Carlos, and when they’re hanging out together he tries to make sure that everything stays in friendly territory. This is almost impossible because it’s Carlos and Carlos looks good and he’s just so kind that TK can’t help but start to crush on him again. 

READ ON AO3

tags: @strangefurychaos @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @noxsoulmate @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @otter-love-asl @paperstorm

[phoenixwrites]

Hello! Huge fan of your work, am living for your Hellcheer fics! I am a fandom lurker who mostly spends time in the ao3 hellcheer tag, and decided to check out your blog to feed my hellcheer cravings :) What happened next was a 5 hour-long tumble down a rabbit hole of VQ thoughts and theories, and I loved every second of it!

Just wanted to say that I was absolutely horrified and dismayed to see all of the hate asks and harrassment you receive on a regular basis. 12 year olds can sure be vicious man, although I honestly think that they should be honored that you even consider giving them the time of day, it probably makes them feel super special. It is so hypocritical that they spew hatred and vitriol and clearly have no qualms bullying strangers while also being deluded into thinking they are fighting against “bad” things (I don’t want to even list examples of their ridiculousness).

Anyway, while I always try to separate my ship fixations from the actors playing them, I (respectfully, from a distance) love the idea of VQ and would love to (in a harmless manner, haha) follow clues. Is there a kind-hearted soul who has publicly curated all clues and indications of their possible relationship/interactions? Or is it all happening behind closed doors? Would be so grateful for any crumbs :)

This was such a cute ask to receive! This Tumblr policy has culled the hate so efficiently and now I’m only getting really sweet anons. I love it.

Thank you so much. The hate was very wearing—I actually mentioned to my therapist that an anon had said she should have her license revoked for treating me and her mouth fell open and she went “I TAKE THAT PERSONALLY.” It was so funny.

So—there IS a curation of all clues and indications and it is…one of those things that is so utterly comprehensive that it’s kind of impossible to deny. It is this which convinced me of VQ, but it’s not public. I haven’t even seen all of it, just particularly compelling chunks. (Like a lot of you, I’d also love to see all of it—I understand what it’s like being on the other side!)

If you dig deep enough on the right places, you can find a lot of clues. You’ll also find a lot of antis being insanely aggressive about it, as evidenced by the people telling me I should DIE for indulging in harmless gossip and spreading their own lies—most of them are really hateful towards Grace. So be careful!

Interestingly, the exact same rumors crop up from them anytime something remotely VQ happens so they must be really worried about the fact that Joe and Grace are spending the summer together.

I am very much looking forward to meeting them in June and very much reveling in the antis’ rage that I am.

[londonfoginacup]

A New Larrie’s Guide to Tumblr

A probably incomprehensible, certainly incomplete list of what you need to know; whether you’re coming from a different platform or discovering Larry for the first time. 

My credentials

Hello! I’m Emmu. I’ve had tumblr since… 2008? Maybe 2009. I moved over from deviantArt and used Tumblr as a personal art blog for many years. I joined the One Direction fandom in 2014, so my 1D blog has 8+ years at this point. That being said, I will get on my soapbox a bit during this. Please excuse me, I’m quite passionate about cultivating a happy and healthy fandom.

What makes Tumblr different

The biggest thing that makes Tumblr, as a site, different from Twitter or Instagram is the rejection of algorithms. The “following” tab on your dashboard is in chronological order (and if it isn’t, you can – and should – change that), and the “for you” tab is both a recent feature and rarely used. Tumblr has very little algorithm, and the algorithm they have isn’t very good. It means that you’ll get the most god awful ads you’ve ever seen on this site, because they don’t utilize your data well. And that’s to your advantage.

Tumblr is a great place because you can curate what you see more than other social media. The people that you choose to follow are the only people that you see on your dash (unless you choose to follow tags, which I guess is an option? @lululawrence says “it is and it used to not do anything unless you went to the search page and then it would like autofill your followed tags options, but NOW they take those followed tags and plop them on your dash... SOMETIMES. usually only on mobile. but if there's only one new post in the tag, it shows you that post OVER. AND OVER. AND OVER AGAIN. IT'S SUPER ANNOYING ACTUALLY. SO I STOPPED FOLLOWING TAGS. lol anyway”).

So, the site is in chronological order. This is its biggest selling point.

There is also the opportunity for long posts. Masterposts. Things that are searchable without having to read through pages of screenshots or condensed twitter threads. You can write a whole lot more without worrying about character limit. People publish whole fics on here (I suggest ao3 for that, but tumblr is technically an option!).

Another important thing to know about tumblr is that the archives on tumblr run deep. There are newer larries here, and a lot of them, but you can also find older larries. People whose 1D blogs go back to 2010 or 2011. You can dive into the archives and read firsthand accounts of what was happening with One Direction or larry at that very time. Doing a bit of research means you find cute fetus pictures of the boys, but also you’re able to figure out for yourself whether something actually happened. Rumors always seem to spread quite easily and fandom memory always seems impossibly short, but here on tumblr you’re able to find out for yourself. That means the next time you hear about how xyz thing happened a long time ago, check out some of those archives and see what you can find.

Also, my personal favorite part of tumblr is that old posts are just as valid as new posts. Find a masterpost about RBB and SBB from 2015? Go ahead and reblog that; bring it back to the circulating dash. People will love that. Find a fanartist that you really like? Search through their tags, reblog anything you want. It’s not considered stalking or weird in any way. We love bringing back old posts here. Tumblr is a website where you’re not meant to just talk about the present. 

The cultural difference between Tumblr and Twitter

Speaking of the ways that tumblr and twitter are different, let’s talk for a moment about the 1D fandom in particular.

I’ve held this theory for a while that the twitter (and instagram) algorithm is fracturing the fandom. Because twitter is so dependent on the algorithm, people are more likely to split apart and join smaller and smaller communities based on smaller, more specific opinions. Tumblr, being a place where you don’t just get a post on your dash because someone else liked it, doesn’t have those smaller cliques. There are larries, and there are antis.

(if you get really in the weeds, there are also larry shippers [who don’t believe they’re together but like to read it in fic], and houis [who think they were together but broke up], but I just don’t hear about them as much).

While I do occasionally hear about blouies on my dash, for the most part this is a culture that exists primarily on other sites. 

On another note, because tumblr doesn’t have that handy algorithm, we have to work to make it a more active space. Likes don’t do anything here for anyone other than you, and it doesn’t really change anything about what you’ll see on your dash. Think of them more like the bookmark setting on twitter or instagram. Reblogs are necessary to get anything spread. Anything that you enjoy, or that looks interesting for any reason? Reblog it! That’s the only way other people will see it! And leave a happy comment in the tags if you’ve got one (more on that later). 

And, while lurkers do exist in this fandom (and we love them), it’s important to get an icon and blog header that make you look like a real person. People on tumblr have long been in the habit of blocking shady blogs, mostly because of a bot problem, so if you want to lurk, you have to look like a lurker. Maybe reblog a post or two to establish yourself, and make sure you don’t accidentally look like an icon-less bot posing as a sugar daddy. 

How to set up your account

Okay, so you’ve got a tumblr. Let’s take a minute to fix up the settings so that you’re not getting, well, the worst version of the site. 

My advice is to start by going into your dashboard preferences and:

Turn off the best stuff first (it’ll just show you things you’ve already seen)

Turn off “include stuff in your orbit” (you’ll see terrible posts that are mostly NOT in your orbit)

Turn off “Included based on your likes” (again, you’ll see posts you hate)

Turn off “shorten long posts”. It’s a ridiculous setting that, like many things on tumblr, had potential but was rolled out in an incredibly unhelpful and user unfriendly way.

Once you’ve got that squared away, go into filtering and block any tags and content you don’t like, as that is always proper fandom etiquette. Not seeing things you don’t like is your responsibility, not the responsibility of the person posting them. I personally suggest adding the topics you don’t want to see to both the content list and the filtered tags list, as that gives a much better likelihood of posts that are particularly unsavory for you getting caught by the filters. Please also note this might need to be done on both desktop and the app separately as, depending on where tumblr is at the moment, these filters do not always carry over from one application to the other.

Now scroll down to tumblr labs. These are their experimental things. Some are good! Some are very bad. They do change, though, so this might get out of date pretty fast.

Personally, I enabled fast queue

And disabled everything else

ALSO, an important note, if you are using the apple app, you need to go in and turn off the adult content filter. No idea offhand where that is, but it means posts that include tags like “mine” and “girl” are blocked. It’s ridiculous. 

Who to follow and how to find them

So, you’ve got a new tumblr and need people to follow. This makes sense! To really fill up your dash, I’d suggest the following

Find one person you like. There’s a good chance you know at least someone from twitter who also has a tumblr, so you can start there. If you’re not from twitter, or are looking to start fresh, you can dive into the search function (I’ve never tried finding someone this way myself, but searching larry stylinson or something similar would probably get you started)

Find the people they reblog from and check out each of their blogs! Follow people that make you happy

Follow some update accounts! Thinking of some off the top of my head, there’s @HLUpdate, @Stylesnews, @dailytomlinson, @HLDailyUpdate, or @neilswaterbottles (there’s definitely more though). 

Follow some fanart or fic rec accounts! 

I’d always suggest @1d-fanart or @hlcreators for art. 

For fic, you could check out @hlficlibrary, @ficsyoumayhavemissed, or @thelarriefics. 

Or, recurring fic fests! @onedirectionbigbang or @wordplayfics, which happen every year.

And if you end up not enjoying someone you’ve followed? Unfollow them! It’ll make you happier.

How to interact with posts

Tumblr is all about tags. Do you have a comment or thought? Reblog a post and say your thought in the tags. That way anyone you follow will see it, and the person who made the post will see it. This way a post doesn’t end up with a lot of cluttery additions that don’t mean a lot to the average person reblogging it, but if you browse the tags of posts you’ll find lots of interesting things. Tags can be used to keep track of things, too, of course — some people tag all pictures with who’s in them, or tag art or fic with tags that mean they can find them again. Tags are versatile! But reblog, don’t just like, and tag! The more you interact, the happier content creators are!

What not to do

Don’t repost. If you see something you like on tumblr, reblog it. Even if it’s a really old piece of fanart (like circa 2011). Reblog that old post! Reposting means people don’t get credit, and it doesn’t link back to them. That’s not cool, and in the long term makes fandom less happy.

How to cultivate a happy and healthy fandom

Send happy anons! Ask how people are doing, do question memes, say how much you loved fic/art/edits, etc.

Reblog art. Reblog fic. Reblog what makes you laugh. The more you reblog, the more other people see, the more the fandom moves! Content creators just want their things seen; every time you reblog, their phone gets that little notification and you’ve given someone a bit of happiness.

Unfollow people who annoy you. Follow people who make you happy!

If someone has a take about 1D that you don’t agree with, don’t tell them or send them argumentative anons. Find people who will agree with you, and complain to them privately. Or make your own post, not shading anyone, just presenting your own opinion and theories!

Remember that everyone is a real person. Cut them some slack when you find them being annoying. But also, unfollow. Curate your dash.

[diana-skye]

Have 27 (more) One Shots

I made a one-shot rec list last year for my birthday, and since I cannot pass up any opportunity for tradition, I am doing it again!

The list turned out to be almost all rare pairs, totally unintentionally, which says something? I think? I don’t know what!

(The numbers are not rankings, I just needed a visual aid to count all the way to 27) (I am stretching the definition of one-shot to include anything under 20k)

Onward with the list!

1. When the Hurlyburly’s Done by @aibidil (Gen, 7k, T): I have yet to make a rec list without an Aibidil fic and who knows if I ever will! Their writing is always full of humour and heart and clever turns of phrase and this 8th year Goyle character study is no exception. It also forms the basis for my Official Goyle Headcanon™.

2. I have always lived in the castle by @pacific-rimbaud (Hermione & Tom, 3k, T): This story has spare, poetic prose that blew me out of the water. I remember thinking about it for ages after I read it. It’s something completely different and truly special.

3. 5,400 miles by @lqtraintracks (Ginny/Pansy, 2k, M): This Ginsy road trip fic will make you feel the summer heat even in the winter. It will make you feel like you know something about LA even though you’ve never been, and it will remind you that some broken things can still be fixed.

4. Longing by @scullymurphy (Remus/Fleur, 4k, M): I kept having to double check that this fic was what I was thinking of because even though it is pretty short, it feels longer in my mind? Scully does A Lot in under 5k here. There is a scene in a cabin in a rainstorm that I think about with an astonishing regularity.

5. Big Teeth Little Red by @pacific-rimbaud (Remus/Lavender, 4k, M): This charming, witty, sexy, Halloween-party themed fic is like a personal checklist for me. A library? An age difference? A Sirius/Ginny side pair? Check, check, check. Also, this + the above PR fic show such an incredible range and the reason why choosing a single one would have been impossible.

6. Hermione Granger’s Infinite Reading List by @hawksquill (Romione, 3k, T): As someone who convinced a friend to join Goodreads literally last week, and as someone who constantly buys books I don’t have time to read... I felt deeply seen by this. It is a super clever textfic full of amazing book titles and banter between all our favourite bffs.

7. Let’s Workshop This by @roseharpermaxwell (Dramione, 3k, M): Another one in which Hermione is all of us (i.e. writing smut during work hours). It also has all my favourite Dramione tropes (i.e. pining, coworkers, Draco in glasses), and is an absolute gem of a one-shot.

8. Old Enough - by @provocative-envy (Sirius/Ginny, 7k, M): Listen. I have been a PE fan for ages, and I sure as heck subscribe to her AO3 updates, and when I tell you that the noise I made when I got the email for this was inhuman, I mean it. My favourite niche pairing. A favourite writer. They get drunk together at a wedding. I cannot describe to you how that makes me feel in a way that is even remotely coherent. 

9. Dear Tom by @suliswrites (Ginny/Tom, 8k, E): This dark, sad, beautiful story is exceptional. Do check the tags, but it is absolutely a top-tier fic for this pairing - and for any pairing really.

10. A Beautiful Fool by @ladykenz347 (Hansy, 8k, M): This is a Hansy Gatsby AU. Need I say more? (It is deeply tragic and just a little bit hopeful and I positively adored it).

11. three knocks upon the door by @lunapwrites (Lily/Tonks, 6k, E): This is a stunningly written dark mystery. It was originally posted in Untagged Fest and as I recall, swept the awards (with good reason!). A true hidden gem.

12. The Ballad of Sir Sirius, the Brave but Dim by @bluestringpudding (Kreacher POV, 6k, G): A wonderfully absurd tale in which Kreacher, the squire for Sir Sirius, suffers greatly. Another spectacular Untagged Fest gem!

13. Shuffling the Cards of Fate by @ptwritesmore (Sirius/Sybill, 3k, M): This is the kind of premise where I see it, my eyes bug out of my head, and I open a tab at the speed of lighting. PT makes this unconventional pairing work with truly exceptional finesse.

14. The Christmas Gala by @catmintandthyme (Dramione, 4k, M): I loved this sweet, sad, special Christmas Cinderella retelling. And it has gorgeous embedded art!

15. Table for Two by maeshowers (Pansy/Sirius, 3k, E): Is it embarrassing to reference my love of the ‘getting drunk together at a wedding’ trope twice in a single rec list? Regardless, everyone in this is such a mess and I love it so much.

16. Things You Shouldn’t Do at Christmas by akissinacrisis (Hinny, 10k, E): A story about the way that some things are just inevitable. Another one full of the sort of messiness that I love so so much.

17. Fixer Upper by @provocative-envy (Pansy/Charlie, 10k, M): A Bakery AU featuring one of my favourite ever Charlies. Pansy & Charlie have so much chemistry and the writing is so great and I love it a lot. (Also there are sharks. All bakery AUs should include sharks.)

18. R. v. Riddle by devdevlin (Tomione, 18k, M): A muggle AU courtroom drama. It is creepy and complex and so well done.

19. The Hush of Waiting by victoria_p (Wolfstar, 7k, T): An older fic (2006!),  tragic in the way only Wolfstar can be. Stellar characterization and multiple lines that had me gasping out loud how beautiful they were.

20. Inferno - by @jadepresley (SECRET PAIRING!, 6k, M): This fic is so clever. The secret pairing is so, so good. A must read!

21. Beneath the Yew-Tree by BelladonnaLee (Tomarry, 3k, M): An off-brand pairing for me, but a very on-brand dose of gothic horror! Chillingly atmospheric.

22. break on me like light by epsilonargus (Sirius/Charlie, 6k, M): An inspired pairing. Top tier hurt/comfort vibes. A slow-burn within 6k. What more could I ask for, truly.

23. Smoke and Mirrors  by sophh (Bill/Pansy, 2k, T): A charming rom-com, featuring holiday parties, awkward situations and the start of something cute. An excellent dose of fluff!

24. Room Serviced by pir8fancier (Dramione, 6k, E): A classic! From 2004! I’m so glad I had this recc’d to me and got the chance to read it. Hoping I can pass the favour along! Angsty and messy, this is an excellent rendition of Dramione’s relationship.

25. Richard by @indreamsink (Dramione, 5k, M): A story about grief, second chances, and dragons. A highlight of this year’s DHr advent for me, with really lovely writing.

26. One Day / The Day by @icepower55 (Panville, 3k): I read this literally minutes ago and simply had to add it to the list! I loved this Panville - it really leans into the inherent conflict and difficulty of the two of them together, while still being an incredible love story.

27. Funny Little Feeling by DianaSkye (Harry/Tonks, 8k, E): I hope you’ll excuse an impertinent little self-rec for my birthday. I had such a fun time writing this story and I think it’s my favourite of my one-shots.