#but like for a solid like. million years. he didn’t quite fathom the true like… responsibility of this

[official-sonic-team]

in my head for a solid like million years bumblebee and hot rod are kinda like charmy and vector. bc in my head charmy’s like just some little guy vector hangs out with. that’s kinda hot rod’s mentality for a while like yeah. me and this baby are just chilling. cracking a cold one.

[dameronology]

all love {steve rogers}

summary: you had a lot to say to steve rogers after he left. finally, you get your chance. 

warnings: angst, mentions of death

believe it or not, this version is actually the one with the happier ending than all the other ideas i had. so pls don’t hate me, bc this ain’t fluff :) 

- jazz xx

Steve Rogers was a complicated man.

You knew that. You could see it in his eyes because you were just as complicated too. It was a blessing and a curse, really; it meant that you understood him just as much as you didn’t; sympathised with him just as much as you struggled. His emotions were clear as day and somehow, still twisted and unintelligible like a tangle of rainclouds in the middle of a stormy night. The history behind his blue eyes was long and confusing and it was unfair to expect you to decipher it when Steve could barely do it himself. He’d lived about a thousand lifetimes in the span of time that most people lived one - so you gave in on understanding, and chose to just love him instead.

It was easier that way, to just take it day by day and unpack his baggage as the super soldier saw fit. Sometimes it was hours and hours of talking; long and late nights, filled with tired eyes and the smell of caffeine. Stolen glances met with soft giggles and recounts of the war, the good times and the bad. Other times, it was more twisted. Deeper and darker. Strangled screams and cries lost to the night, large hands reaching for the gun under his pillow that posed the question of how fucking long has that been there, Steve? 

In time, the good was worth the bad. You must had the patience of a fucking saint, because Steve finally stopped mourning for the past and began to look to the future. You hadn’t made solid plans -- that was foolish in your line of work. Between fighting aliens and robots, you were both blessed to have even made it this far. So, the day by day method worked in that sense too, and any big plans always became maybe. Maybe we’ll have kids one. Maybe we’ll move out of Brooklyn and to the suburbs. Maybe we’ll find a nice house with a picket fence and a garden big enough for Bucky to run around in. 

What you had was beautiful, in the most complicated way. Because Steve Rogers was a perplexing man, but before that, he was kind and funny and sweet. He looked after you and you looked after him. Wrote you letters on long missions and left little notes for everyday that he was away. Sent you the dumbest good morning texts and the sweetest good night ones. For every emotional pitfall that you found yourselves in, Steve would turn up with a rope, even if he’d been the one to dig the hole in the first place. 

It went more than just skin deep, twisting your souls together in some kind of emotional vortex that you wouldn’t have thought to be true had you not witnessed alien invasions and everything that followed. In fact, it was the everything that followed that you pushed you together even more - because it was the blip that had made you and Steve realised fucking important what you had was. 

Those had been desperate moments. Painful, desperate moments. One minute, you’d been watching Wanda Maximoff cry out in pain for her lost love, and then she was gone. So was Bucky. And T’Challa. And Stephen Strange. In mere seconds; so quickly that your brain couldn’t even comprehend what was going on. It was as though somebody had turned your brain off for a few seconds - and when it rebooted, all you could think about was Steve. 

You didn’t remember much from the seconds that followed, other than the burning in your lungs from how impossibly fast you had run, and how soar your throat was from screaming out his name. Then your bodies had collided with a thud, and you’d been met with a solid chest. Warm arms and big hands, that were completely and entirely there and not being dusted away. You’d never clung onto him so tightly, barely able to breath from how hard reality had just hit you. But he held onto you, and kept you standing - a metaphor which would stick to the next five years in the most bittersweet way. 

The first few months were hard. Hard to stomach, hard to accept, hard to mourn. Everyone was floating around one another, still struggling to truly get over the fact that for once, the Avengers hadn’t won. You hadn’t gotten cocky, but after the Chitauri, and after Ultron, you had become hopeful. Nobody could blame you. Hope was all you’d had, really. 

You found a routine. Steve found a reason to live in you, and you’d found an inkling of ambition in him. After a few months in the Compound, you’d gone back to your apartment in Manhattan. You’d never been more grateful to have it -- because when the entire world had changed around you, at least one thing was still the same. You could shut the door and lock it behind you, just existing as you always had in those four walls. The rest of the world didn’t matter, because it just you, and it was Steve, and that was the world. It was your world, and it was his. 

After everything becoming so unpredictable, the stability that his presence brought was everything you needed. It cemented your need for one another - your love for another. 

But unpredictably has a funny way of working, doesn’t it? 

Never in a million years would you have imagined that the thing brought you closer would have been the thing to tear you apart. That restoring the world back to the state you’d longed for would bring an end to the only thing you thought was certain. You’d calculated every outcome of reversing the blip, thought about every way that it was everything you’d ever wanted. Finally, everything you’d lost would come back, and you and Steve could live as you always wanted. In the world you wanted. 

But he wasn’t there. 

One possibility you hadn’t considered was that Steve would have access to the time stone. You were both getting back to the world’s your mourned for, but they weren’t the same. You’d only been mourning the last five years, whilst Steve had been mourning the last seven decades. Somewhere along the long, you’d convinced yourself that the little bubble you’d built for yourselves was enough to cushion that. That your relationship, and your love, was enough compensation for the fact he’d lost everything. 

Because Steve was good with words, but not quite enough to express to you how truly out of time he’d been. You saw the way his eyes glazed over when he spoke of the forties, but you couldn’t feel the pain in his chest when he heard an old record. You couldn’t fathom the suffocation he felt every time he saw pictures of his lost friends, or the weight on his chest that losing Peggy Carter had given him. It had alleviated slightly when he met you, but truthfully speaking, Steve Rogers hadn’t taken a deep breath since the final moments before his plane hit the ice in 1945. 

The pain you felt when you realised that he’d well and truly left you for his old life was minute compared to what he’d been feeling since he woke up all those years ago. It didn’t matter, because pain was pain regardless. His relief didn’t negate your suffering. And, if you’d ever been wondering what you would have felt if you had lost Steve in the blip, you needn’t had looked any further. This was worst than him dying. This was worst than him slipping away with millions of others, because he’d chosen to do it. He’d thought about you, and everything you’d tried to give him, and he’d decided it wasn’t enough. 

You didn’t get it at first. Couldn’t sympathise with his situation - but let’s face it. Who the fuck could? It wasn’t like there was a WikiHow article on how to get over the love of your life time travelling back to the 1940s and leaving you in ruins. For the first time since you’d met Steve all those years ago, you were forced to process all your emotional trauma on your own. To stand on your own two feet without his broad arms supporting you in the way they had on the battlefield in Wakanda. 

It took time. You processed it with time. Drank a lot, cried a lot, screamed a lot. Found solace in your friendships with Bucky and Sam; even if they’d been a little much at first, forcing you to share the payload of your pain with them had helped. At times, it was like going to group therapy with Spongebob and Patrick, but you held them close to your heart. You learnt to find joy and appreciation in other things, and to tune out Steve, and the mention of his name.

That was until March 2021, almost two years to the day that he had left you standing on the lakeside in the Compound. You’d been driving home from work and his name had been mentioned on the radio - Captain America, former war hero and super soldier, has died aged 103. 

It didn’t sting too much. You’d mourned Steve Rogers a long time ago - at least the version of him that you knew.  It made your chest hurt a little that he was truly and completely gone, and that you would never have a chance to talk to him. You’d toyed with the idea of going to visit him in his old age. Part of you wanted to know if he remembered you, even if for him, everything you’d had together had been decades ago. Even though you’d existed together in the future, your life together was cemented entirely in the past the minute you’d went back. Decades had passed before you existed at the same time again, and you wondered if time had been enough for him to forget. Two years for you had been seventy for him. It was thought that had made you shy away from ever talking to him, because you didn’t want to know. You were scared of the answer. 

Maybe that was why you were only seeing him now; on a rainy day, when the man you’d once loved was six feet under and surrounded by a ridiculous headstone you knew he would hate. The air around you was cool, sky tinged grey and a few droplets splashing against the grey stone, making it turn a slightly darker shade. There were no tears; just a deep sigh, and an awkward shuffle as you wriggled your toes in your boots and thought about what the fuck you wanted to say. 

‘Hey, Cap.’ You murmured. ‘Can I call you that? I used to call you babe. No, I don’t know why I said that. That’s fucking weird. Like this whole situation, because somehow, even though I’ve dealt with aliens and gods, saying goodbye to you is one I was never truly prepared for.’ 

Your eyes fell to the floor, and you continued. ‘You suck, Steve Rogers. You really fucking suck. You know that, right? That it’s a dick move to go back to your old life without even leaving a note? Or a text? Heck, I would have been happy if you spelt it out on the fridge in magnets.’ 

‘It’s okay, though.’ You smiled. ‘I’m not mad anymore. Okay, maybe I am a little, but not as I used to be. I understand why you did it, but I also get that I’ll never understand at all. I’ll never get how existing in a time that wasn’t yours felt, or how out of place you must have been in a world seventy years ahead of what you knew.’

‘And I’m sorry, I guess. Sorry that I didn’t try harder, but also sorry that whatever I tried to give you wasn’t enough to make up for what you’d lost.’ You sniffed. ‘This is where you’d tell me to shut up and stop being so hard on myself. So I will, because we’re both at peace now and that’s the most important thing.’

There were a few tears then; not for the man beneath you, but for the man that had left you. When all the anger subsided, you realised that above all, you just missed him. You missed the late night conversations when you couldn’t sleep, and you missed how warm he felt beside you when you did finally drift off. You missed the way he laughed at your driving skills and the way he would eat your side salad because you hated it. You longed to his hear his singing in the shower in the morning, and to squeal at him for pressing his cold feet to your back to wake you up. 

‘Above all, Steve Rogers, I’m just grateful I had you, even for a few years.’ You took a deep breath. ‘The pain I felt when you left was unbearable, but it wasn’t permanent. The memories you gave me, and the love I felt for you? That’s gonna stay with me forever.’ 

You wiped away a few tears, smiling to yourself when the clouds above you cleared slightly. The grey ones that had been lingering all morning had shifted slightly, allowing for the sunlight to peak through and cast a glow over your surroundings. Tiny, dewy raindrops lingered on the grass, enveloping the world around you in the smell of petrichor and relief. You’d never believed in fate, or the afterlife, or messages from the underworld, but that? You hadn’t felt a rush like that the last time you woke up beside him.

‘So, thanks I guess.’ You glanced up at the sky, blinking under the bright sun. ‘And rest easy, Cap.’ 

[taenchanted]

the will of the stars

☾ a story written in fate

⤖ pairing: yoongi x reader

⤖ genre: soulmate!au, coffee shop!au

⤖ word count: 2.8k

⤖ warnings: none

⤖ author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this one! I haven’t written a soulmate fic before, I might even turn this into a full-length fic sometime after I’ve written a few more drabbles ♡ please enjoy!

You associated a few things with the boy who sent you cryptic messages through the stars.

First, a bundle of Christmas lights, many of which were broken. Second, a shower of soft pink rose petals. Third, angry swearing. Fourth, an ethereal grin that illuminated the universe.

Min Yoongi, a complete stranger, liked to talk to you. He had enjoyed it for three years now, since his voice first flitted through your mind. And though he may have been insufferable at times, an utter nuisance, you loved it when you heard him murmur a quiet hello.

You did not know why your minds were linked. There was no warning when it happened, no explanation, just a new voice that had frantically demanded who you were. You had no influence over what he said, you took no part in his actions; he was simply a part of you, for some reason that you could not fathom.

Whenever he said anything, in the back of your mind, you could catch a glinting pinprick. For a long time, you did not know what it was. You hadn’t practiced focusing enough to know what that faint glimmer was. It was about a year into gaining this new entity in your mind that you realized what it was. They were stars. If you concentrated with all of your might, you could see them outlined in perfect clarity, more defined than in any picture that you had ever seen. There were stars tucked into the depths of your psyche, but only when Yoongi was talking.

You had been bewildered at first, but you had grown completely comfortable with having him there. He was not an intrusive force, merely a curious one. He usually made sure that he wasn’t being a distraction, though at times he barged in without consideration, and at first, it had been strange. What was the purpose of this connection? You had never met him before; in fact, you lived in different places entirely. You didn’t know how you were supposed to react to this power. You made small talk, discovered the basics of who he was, and although you found him intriguing, you did not know how to act.

Eventually, he wore you down.

In actuality, he was a truly phenomenal person. He thought about the future and about the world in a poignant way. He put things into words that you never could. He had theories about philosophy, musings about the natural world, asked you opinions on questions that you had never been asked.

“I think we’ll walk together someday,” he had murmured once, very late at night. “No way that this was for nothing. Sometimes I think destiny is bullshit, but if I’m being honest— and by this point, you know that I’m being honest with you— it’s impossible for this to be random. There has to be some bigger reason, one we don’t know about yet. Maybe a reason bigger than me pestering you at three in the morning.”

You had smiled to yourself, but somehow you knew that he could sense it. “You’re not pestering me, Yoongi. You know I love these talks.”

“Yeah, yeah. I find that very hard to believe, but you’ve told me that a million times, so I guess it might be time to start trusting you.”

Yoongi had introduced you to his soul in ways that no one else had. When you were that bonded to another person, there was no way for you to not become attached. He had become an imperative aspect of your life. He knew when you were working, so he chatted with you then to keep you occupied. He liked asking you about your day, how you were doing, reminding you to drink water or take a lunch break. In the beginning, he had— albeit halfheartedly— tried to convince you that he was generally a quite distant and difficult person, he had discarded that façade and instead became content with revealing his true personality to you.

You fought at times. He was such a constant part of your life that was impossible not to. He would snap at you, and you would snap back, and after a day of no communication, one of you would cave in and apologize. You would never feel guiltier than when you were in a spat with Yoongi. He was a huge source of support in your life, a stable backbone that you could always depend on. Nothing was worth losing him, for any period of time.

It didn’t take long for him to become the most pivotal part of your life. He did it effortlessly, seamlessly. He slipped in, wove himself into your heart, and quietly rooted there. Yoongi tended to do things without a fuss, so it made sense that the way he entered your adoration was the same way he did everything else. He didn’t beg to be in your life. It may have been the stars that brought you together, but it was he who found a special place in your heart. It was in the way that he cared about you, checking up on you without openly saying it, or the way that he comforted you with just a single word. He was a subtle soul, doing the brute of his actions with passion but the smaller things with thought.

Within three years, he had immersed himself in your existence, soaking up your conversations with gratitude and appreciation. He made you feel so valued. Yoongi had an intellectual mind, always sifting through conflicts and discussing problems with you. When he was angry, he would often grumble an irritated are you there? to you, which you would always reply immediately to. You could hear his tones, his moods, just by the thoughts that he projected. You had learned all about the things that bothered him through his frustrations. It was always in his darker days that he would remind you how important you were to him.

“Thank you for always being here,” he had said softly once. “You’ve never let me go.”

You had frozen in place, heart thumping so hard that everything else in the world had held still. “I never will. I’ll be here for you, always.”

“This might be the first time that I’ll believe someone when they say that.” He had been silent for a few moments, clearly lost in thoughts that he was not relaying to you. “You really care. I don’t know how I got so lucky to be stuck with you, but it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

That had been one of the first times that he had opened up to you without a sarcastic remark thrown in, just enough to keep the balance of detachment.

“Min Yoongi, you are the best part of my life.”

Your mind had gone hushed for a long time after you had said those words. Your own private thoughts went racing, blaring loud panicked lights, and within those few moments of quiet, many things slid into perspective.

The first important development was that you saw Christmas lights. Along with those lights, you saw light pink petals cascading through the air and the happiest smile you had ever seen. You also heard some furious swearing, but that was not quite as instrumental as the other images. All of these visions swam through your mind, murky and unclear, as if they were deep underwater and you were looking down on them. Nothing quite clicked, nothing came together to form a solid explanation for these sights.

The second important development was that you were, quite possibly, absolutely in love with a boy you had never met. You preferred not to dwell on that because it was almost too much for you to think about. He had been such a big part of your life for a few years, and the thought of you ruining it was nearly too much to bear. But when you thought of the reasons why he was so important, it was dauntingly clear that these were not normal reasons. It was one thing to appreciate him, it was another thing to crave his gravelly voice in your head, or to stay up until the earliest hours of the morning just to listen to him ramble. You were infatuated with his presence, absorbing everything he said with tenacity.

“You won’t lose me, ever,” he had said after some time, “no matter what. Even if one day I stop hearing your voice in my head, I’ll find you.”

Your mouth had gone dry. It felt like you were falling— and in some way, you were. You were weaving yourself into the threads of Yoongi’s life. “We’ll walk together someday, just like you said.” You didn’t know what else to tell him. It was the closest thing you could say to the truth— the consuming, foreign truth.

A light, breathless laugh had floated through your mind, and then there had been silence. That conversation had been the first moment in which you confronted the reality of your predicament. Min Yoongi was more than just a voice in your head, he was a boy who cared about the world and cared about you, above all else.

You pushed everything away in an effort to salvage what little oblivion you could. Not loving him was far less complicated. But, instead, each talk that you had was enough to send you spiraling back to the same conclusion, and after that first point, you knew that there was no going back. You kept his words tucked safely in your heart, repeating them to yourself, thinking about what he said throughout your day.

You were doing exactly that, smiling to yourself as you steamed another pitcher of milk, remembering your discussion on dreams from the night before. You were expecting his voice any minute now. Working at a coffee shop was pleasant and methodic, but it didn’t require an immense amount of effort to keep focused. Yoongi had deemed it the perfect time to chat since he always got off work right as you started.

It was a daily routine, talking to him. He murmured a greeting to you in the mornings, then rarely spoke again until the afternoons, but he was actively speaking to you during lunch, work, and the evenings. Some nights, you would talk for hours until dawn, but those weren’t frequent. They were merely special.

You frowned when you looked at the clock. You didn’t want to say that it was unusual for him to be fifteen minutes late, but it was. He was quite punctual about his timing. Ignoring the thought, you set out a vase filled with a bouquet; one of your regular customers had gifted it to you out of appreciation.

The shop was chaotic, flooded with last-minute shoppers. The holidays were always a busy time, filled with the entitled and the kind alike. You were worried about his absence, but you were also caught up in trying to keep up with the coffee orders streaming in.

“You sound a little busy,” he said amusedly, voice ringing clear in your mind.

You were trying to multitask, speaking to a customer while thinking to him. “I am unbelievably busy— not to be intrusive, but why were you so late today? You’re always so timely.”

He snorted. “I’m hardly ever timely. Only for you.”

You almost dropped the mug you were holding, but you regained your composure quickly. “I’m flattered.”

“I promised I’d be here, right?” He paused for a second. “I was out buying Christmas lights, actually, but I think I ruined most of them. I left the box on top of my car, forgot about them, and ran them over, so they’re a little crushed— but I think some of them will work. Not willing to go back to that hellhole of a hardware store. I’ve already had to go there three times this week, but if I tried to buy another box, the workers would kill me.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, a faint, wobbly picture of broken Christmas lights coming to mind. “Angry shoppers are the most dangerous predator of all.”

“They certainly reign over the holiday food chain.”

You handed out another cup, offering a hasty smile as well, then hurried back to the coffee machine. Yoongi didn’t say much, knowing that you were too busy to engage in an interesting conversation, so you spent your time trying to concentrate on orders.

However, your mind kept wandering back to his broken lights.

You had seen them before, never in a way that made sense, but you had seen those lights in a vision. It was a sight that was hidden in the same place that the stars were hidden; they were relatively out of vision but were visible enough to make you aware of their presence. You were supposed to see them, but not understand. You supposed that the stars were achieving their goals.

Biting back a rising sense of suspicion, you continued to work. There wasn’t much else to do— you needed to get things sorted out before you could even think about asking him about those lights.

You looked up, ready to take the next order, when you saw chaos from the other side of the counter. Someone had knocked over your bouquet of flowers, and you winced when the vase crashed against the countertop. Water spilled everywhere, and loose petals sprayed up in a shower—

And you froze, watching the ink-stained hands scrabbling to try to catch the vase, hearing a loud, profuse swear echo through the bustling coffee shop.

A customer had a tattered loop of Christmas lights still wrapped around his shoulder. The petals drifted down around him, almost dreamlike as they floated, an unbelievable snapshot in time.

He was not just any customer, he was your partner, the voice you had been tied to for three years.

“Yoongi!” You shouted, immediately clasping your hand over your mouth after his name left your lips.

He turned in confusion, eyebrows furrowed in distress from the combination of being yelled at and knocking over a vase— and then he froze too.

Everything else faded away, just a buzzing background to the main event. The noise seemed to die down, and all of the faces were blurry, but he was defined and sharp.

If you had asked him, he associated a few things with the girl who had popped into his head one day. First, a shout of surprise. Second, an apron stained with coffee. Third, a face that was bright enough to captivate the sun, most certainly enough to capture his heart. Fourth, broken glass crackling to the floor.

“Y/N?” He said, his voice ringing in your ears, audible for the first time.

And seeing him standing there, disheveled and disoriented, grinning at you like you were a miracle, was a confirmation like no other. You loved him. You loved him so much that it felt like your blood would burst out of your veins, like your heart was an inferno in your chest, like you were in paradise.

You dropped everything you were holding and sprinted out from behind the counter, and suddenly his fingertips were brushing against your skin and his arms were tight around you and he was a part of you, holding you with his entire soul. Yoongi was more than just a bodiless voice, he was there and he was spectacular. The weak pictures of this moment were nothing compared to meeting him.

“I told you that we’d find each other,” he murmured, pressing you closer to him.

“I always trusted you,” you whispered, fingers clamped in his shirt.

He laughed weakly, and the mere sound lifted all of the weight off of your shoulders. Every negativity was wiped smoothly away, replaced by the certainty that this is where you wanted to be. You wanted him, without a doubt in your mind.

And somehow you knew, that the stars had played the two of you to their own will, that the stars had known you better than you knew yourselves. They intended for you to meet, and they almost certainly intended for you to fall in love. The stars had chosen you, perhaps for some greater reason that you would never know, or perhaps for no reason at all. They crossed your fates, winding them together, just as your hands wound around each other now.

[veneziahq-blog]

Age & Date of Birth: 30 / 3 April 1987 Neighborhood: Murano Occupation: Writer & photographer for National Geographic / Mountain climber How long they have been in Venize: One month Gender & Sexuality: Female & heterosexual Faceclaim: Alicia Vikander

“We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to live. That is what life means and what life is for.”

BIOGRAPHY

Born in Tennessee and raised in Big Sky Country in Montana had a big effect on Remi. Her father had a solid career as an architect and builder, working with a development to build multi-million dollar homes in the Spanish Peaks. It was a job and project that had her father moving the family from Tennessee when Remi was barely a year old. She and her two older brothers grew up loving the wide open spaces, the picturesque views and all the possible adventure that surrounded them. Her mother was the stay at home type, having three children all fairly close in age and her husband to make more than enough to support the family meant that she didn’t have to work. Instead, she was able to look after the family, which was a lot since all three Jackson children seemed to have endless energy. Remi was twelve when her life seemed to find it’s meaning. Rather young for something like that to happen but the girl found her greatest passion when tagging along on a Boy Scout’s trip. Her brother’s had a weeklong trip, camping and hiking in the mountains. Families were allowed to come along with their boys and climbing the mountains was something that Remi immediately fell in love with. From then on, she kept a record of any and all summits she reached. The teenager had big dreams and huge goals set out ahead of her and already at thirteen, Remi was working on them. She became a Jr Ranger and park/mountain guide, spending her teenage years on the peaks and in the wilderness with her best friend Keegan, with her father accompanying them on bigger more adventurous climbs. School was tough because she couldn’t care less about it and often had to rely on Keegan to help her focus and get her work done to pass. Remi wanted to be out in the world and thankfully, her father and brother shared the passion she had for climbing and would often excuse her and her best friend from school so they could do climbs. At first, they started with all the top summits in the US, then they began to branch out and travel to different parts of the world to climb the tallest mountains. When her brother graduated, he went on to become a firefighter and it lessened their trips together. Soon it was mostly Remi and her father taking the trips and making the climbs. It was truly amazing that she had the friendship she did with Keegan, whom she had loved with all her heart — they had been fairly inseparable since they were babies and had the most unshakable bond. They even attended university together, completely unable to fathom spending that time apart but reality struck the two young college students as demands of school and adult life kicked in. Keegan loved and supported the passion Remi had for the world, for climbing, for constantly seeking adventure but they never accounted for just how much it would keep Remi away. And Remi constantly encouraged and praised Keegan in his scholastic endeavors, was always his biggest cheerleader when it came to his achievements and reaching his goals only to set up the next but she also hadn’t accounted for just how busy he would be. At just twenty years old, Remi had already climbed three of the seven summits. She wrote about her experiences, not just climbing but also the adventures and experiences that surrounded the trips and the ascent up each mountain. She took pictures and put everything up on a blog, also found herself fortunate enough to get some of her stories and articles published. Her pictures were bought by magazines and some even sold as prints. Remi had made a career for herself over her passion without ever truly attempting to and she couldn’t have been happier, with the exception of deeply missing her friend. She completed three more summits over the following three years from school and in that time had accepted a job with National Geographic as a writer and photographer. Often, Remi was sent to different parts of the world for stories and photographs that the magazine was seeking. The fact that she was rarely home and seemed more in love with the mountains than anything else took a huge toll on her attempts at dating and relationships. One relationship in particular that seemed to be lasting longer and had moved out of the dating stage didn’t seem as though it would hold up against the challenges of being with a globe trotter like Remi. They couldn’t always accompany her on the trips and definitely wasn’t a climber so they began to drift apart. Remi wasn’t aware that they had begun a relationship with someone else and it wasn’t something she would find out until she completed the most difficult yet honorable challenge of her life. Everest. After preparing for a year, Remi finally made it to the most captivating and dangerous climb of her life. The climb was nothing short of trying and challenging, tested her will and strength numerous times but Remi persevered through all hardships and made it into the exclusive Seven Summits Club. She had never felt more accomplished in her life, it was the most amazing feat to have tackled and conquered but arriving home a day early in surprise, Remi found her significant other in bed with another. It was devastating but she understood after a long talk. Their relationship was over and their “love” was something she realized was never true on her end but Remi still had her work and her best friend Keegan when they got time to see one another. She stayed home for a while, writing up her stories and book, even went on a trip for the magazine but her life felt empty without having someone. As independent as she was, Remi loved being in a relationship and having someone to be close to in that way so with the setup of a friend, she gave herself a much needed fresh start and began dating Kevin. In the beginning he was all charm and in love with the wild that seemed to be within Remi but he never could quite accept her closeness and bond to Keegan. Kevin couldn’t understand the dynamic of their friendship and always accused that something more was going on than it was. However, her best friend had been in a serious relationship of his own and was on the verge of getting married but instead of Kevin accepting that he only got worse with Remi. To the point that she had become afraid to leave him out of fear of what he would do, since in a few arguments Kevin had grabbed her.

It was the night before Keegan’s wedding when the world completely flipped on it’s axis. She had picked him up from the airport as he was just arriving home from a six month Doctor’s Without Borders mission and they each made some confessions. She was afraid and wanted out of her relationship and her best friend had reservations about his upcoming marriage. One thing led to another and the lifelong best friends ended up in bed together, confessions made of love and how foolish they were to try and give their hearts to anyone else. Remi and Keegan both lived lifestyles where they could pick up and go at a moments notice and each had always been super adventurous and wanting to travel, and that was how they made their way to Venice together. Finally truly happy and in a relationship that made her feel whole and complete, realizing whom her soulmate had been all along, Remi was back to work with writing and photography. 

PERSONALITY

Remi is lighthearted and extremely compassionate, she’s always putting others before herself and is the type of person to give away her last dollar to a person in need — she wouldn’t hesitate to give the shirt off her back. She’s adventurous and seeking, always exploring and learning, and thoroughly interested in people from all walks of life. Remi usually makes friends easily, with her bubbly and goofy personality, the lack of a mean bone in her body, she has a way of disarming people. Making someone smile makes her day that much better. She’s an engaging person, always curious and always full of good intentions. And while she’s a lover not a fighter, Remi doesn’t hesitate to stand her ground and stick to her convictions if she’s challenged. She’s sensitive in a way that makes her perceptive and adaptive. Being someone that knows how to survive and make it through the extremes, she’s calm in times of distress. Remi is truly very humble and often downplays her achievements a bit because she sometimes feels as though she could be doing much more with her life than climbing mountains.

[fanfiction-writers]

The Trickster's Mate Ch 6 (GabrielxReader)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Gabriel paced in circles around the large bed where you lie, still unmoving and asleep. Or he hoped you were just sleeping and not in a coma. Shit, what if I did something wrong? The thought kept running through him, eating away at him. He hadn't ever bonded before, had never even thought about it. Plus, it was kind of a one time deal. Sure, there was the fling with Kali which lasted longer than he thought it would, but you were his mate. You were on a whole different level... and you still weren't waking up. There were a couple times he thought you had woken up, but it was just some random muscle twitches while you slept.

His wings unfurled as he walked circles, shifting restlessly like the rest of him. He sounded like a damn flock of birds but you still didn't stir on the bed. Should he do something? Try and reach out to your subconscious or something? Physically, you were fine; he had healed you completely once you decided to stay. You just wouldn't wake up. Or maybe that would make it worse somehow... Ugh! He wanted to rip his vessel's hair out in frustration.

It had been nearly five days since he got you to some place that he manifested for you to stay. Five very long days, especially since he didn't sleep at all. Tweedle Dee and Dumb kept trying to call him but Gabe ignored them again. He told them that you were fine (at least he hoped that was the case) and then he blocked their stupid calls and prayers. They were worried, Gabe knew that, but he still wanted to kill them both a million times over.

Running a hand through his hair, Gabe manifested some chocolate to eat while you rested. Wrappers piled up on the floor, Gabe only snapping them away when they crumpled underneath his shoes. He was just about to go to Heaven in a quick quest for information when he finally heard you stir in the bed. First, it was just some twitches. Then some quiet groaning before your eyes squeezed shut and then fluttered open slowly.

You open your eyes slowly, trying to focus through the blurry mess that was your vision. A constant, rustling sound came to you soon after, though it was faint and took a moment to register. A figure steps into your line of blurred vision and you try to force yourself to focus on it.

"Gabe..." you whisper hoarsely, your voice barely making any noise at all. Gentle hands help you sit up, checking over you quickly.

"Y/N, Sweetheart," Gabe's voice says, his warm hands framing your cheeks. "You awake?"

After a dizzy moment, you nod as you feel disconnected from your body. Everything seemed off, like you couldn't focus on anything around you. Was everything still not real? Would everything start disappearing while you watched, somehow not very effected by that?

Suddenly you scramble out of the blankets that had been tucked around you, weakly pushing at his hands. You scurry to the other side of the bed, sheets wrapped in your legs, trying to focus on what was around you. A large, yet elegant, room surrounded you. The walls and the floor were smooth and cream colored. The only furniture in the room was the giant bed large enough to fit five people that was smacked directly in the center, empty space on all sides.

A look of shock crosses Gabriel's face as he nearly freezes on the bed, still in the position as if you hadn't moved. You take a step away from him and the bed, trying to grasp your focus onto anything. Slowly, Gabe moves off the bed on the other side opposite you. At his movement, you flinch slightly and take a few more steps backwards. A deep panic settles into your belly and mind. Was this real?

"Cupcake?" Gabriel asks gently, an undercurrent of tension beneath his words. He took a step around the bed, hands held up gently. He sounded like Gabe, had the same voice inflections and expressions. But so had the other one.

"Stay back!" you nearly shout, feeling terrible as his gentle expression collapses into something more pained. Tripping on some of the blankets that had fallen off the bed, you flounder backwards before a chair appears beneath you after a quick snap of Gabe's fingers. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words.

You grip the arms of the chair tightly, brain scrambling for any hint or any clue that anything around you was real. How long had you been...dreaming? How had you been dreaming in the first place? There were no breaks in your memory, no blank spaces of time you couldn't recall...

"Y/N?" Gabe asks gently, staying where he was a few feet away with his arms still raised in a calming manner. "What's wrong?"

Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to inspect him closely. Real or fake? "What's my middle name?" you snap at him.

"What?" he asks, his open face scrunching in confusion. You repeat the question slowly, nearly snapping at him again. "I-I don't know, you never told me," he replies slowly, like it was a trick question. Which it was, but still.

"How long have we been together?" you demand, still tense and uneasy.

"Just about four months," he answers.

Four months... you had celebrated a year... Every sunset, every hunt, every moment with Gabe, the hunts with the Winchesters... Had it all really been fake? It had felt real enough. Just about as real as anything you felt now.

"Are you real?" you ask in a whisper, your voice breaking as tears pricked at your eyes. You couldn't trust your own memories or mind. Everything felt real, and yet a huge chunk of your memories, your feelings, were fake. Your head falls into your hands as you sit there, curling into yourself. Was this real?

"Y/N," Gabe calls to you again, walking closer. He kneels before you slowly, making sure to keep a handful of inches away from touching you. "Can I?" he asks, holding his hands above your arms, intent on touching you but making sure you were okay with it.

You give no answer, still shuffling through memories that hadn't really happened.

"Look at me," Gabe tells you gently, trying to get in your line of sight. Tucking your chin down, you grip the roots of your hair tight enough to hurt slightly. Pain was real right? But so was the pain from the broken hand you got from a hunt a couple of months ago, which Gabe had healed.

"Y/N," he tries again, still not touching you. You shake your head harshly, a sense of hysteria creeping on the edge of your mind.

"Y/N... look. At. Me," Gabriel demands, his voice firm and loud, somehow deep and high pitched all at the same time.

Shivering at the power in Gabriel's voice, your eyes snap up to look at him directly. After making eye contact, his wings unfurl slowly and he begins glowing brightly from the inside. Your eyes widen as Gabe slowly glows brighter, your vision eventually encompassed by a white light. You could feel something, an energy filling the room and surrounding you.

"This is real," his voice, layered on top of his normal voice, tells you. It almost sounded like bells that were constantly chiming and ringing. Or at least that's what your mind equated it to. "You can feel this, see this," he continues, though you're not quite sure where his voice was coming from. "This is not the fantasy from the djinn. That takes everything you know and runs with it. It cannot conjure things you've never seen or heard." As the last part is stressed, you look around to see an... energy shifting around you everywhere. "No offense, but your human mind cannot create this. You can't imagine this because humans can barely fathom the essence of an angel's true being."

A firm yet intangible pressure pushes onto your chest, directly in the center. "Feel me, Y/N," his voice whispers to you. "This is real. Our bond is real." As he finishes speaking, you can feel a familiar warmth in your chest, similar to his grace.

Slowly, the bright light of energy fades, leaving you still watching as the light vanishes into Gabriel's vessel in front of you. His eyes are the last thing to dim back to normal as he kneels in front of you still, his hand almost touching the center of your chest. He remained on the floor, breathing calmly, yet watching you intensely. You didn't think you've ever seen him look so serious.

"This is real," he tells you again. "You cannot fake this," he smiles slightly, finally laying his hand gently on your chest.

Reaching up, you clasp your hand around his tightly. You lean forward and wrap your arms around Gabe's neck, feeling less on the edge of insanity. Breathing in his scent, you try to slow your breathing and heart rate. He was right; this felt different than whatever dream or fantasy you had been caught in. "I'm sorry," you mumble into his neck.

Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around you. "Don't apologize for that."

After that, the two of you go silent for a while. Your mind processes that this was real as you cling to Gabe, and he sits there being a solid warmth that you hold on to. Relief washes through you slowly as the stress melts away. "What actually happened?" you ask finally.

"They nearly got you killed is what happened," he nearly hisses into your hair. You can feel him tense in anger, and you wonder if he did anything to Sam or Dean in retaliation. Running a hand through his hair, you silently encourage him to continue. "The djinn got you as you and Dean left the old school building. It dragged you into an old cabin in the woods miles away from the school. You were gone for nearly two days, almost three," he tells you. "You were nearly dead when I found you." At that, Gabriel squeezes you tighter. "Your soul was trying to move on already and you weren't healing... I had to get your permission to possess you to heal you from the inside, and when you still tried moving on, I thought mating would work..."

"That room," you start, pulling away from him, "you telling me to decide... that was real? That part is a bit foggy still. We're mated?"

"Yes," he nodded, a small smile pulling his lips up.

"And I didn't die," you tell him in a "I told you so" tone. The both of you smirk at each other for a moment before you look at the room around you. "Where are we?" The room definitely wasn't the bunker or any kind of motel you had ever been in. If it was, you needed to keep their number in your phone under the first speed dial available.

"Anywhere," he shrugs. "I just made a place where I knew you'd be safe, and the two stooges were driving me crazy. I thought about throwing them in some alternate reality for the indefinite future until you woke up."

You felt bad as you imagine the confrontation between Gabe and the Winchesters. Hopefully nothing too crazy happened and no one was missing limbs or lives. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly five days."

Five days?!

"You had me scared to death," Gabe tells you, looking away like he felt vulnerable somehow. "I thought you wouldn't wake up. I thought I didn't make it in time, that I didn't bond with you right, and you'd end up trapped between life and death somewhere like a ghost. You were healed, but you weren't waking up..." His wings were still out and they curled around you loosely. Protectively.

Standing, you feel a gentle smile soften your face. "Lay down with me?" you ask him.

He nods and snaps you back to the bed, leaving you snuggled in the blankets and his arms. After everything, you feel fatigue settle deep into your body. Without speaking, Gabe runs his hand through your hair, massaging your head as he does so. Something within you feels warm and light as you fall asleep. That something is now constant like a heartbeat, reminding you of the bond that ties you two together. It wasn't long before you were out like a light, physically and mentally wrapped safely in Gabriel.

You wake to Gabe's hand rubbing soft circles on your shoulder blades. You were strewn across Gabe's torso, an arm thrown around him. He didn't complain, but instead took comfort from you as you did him. Immediately, you remember all the times you had woken up snuggled to Gabriel and how most of them were during your fantasy life from the djinn. Reaching out with your senses, you seek out the constant warmth of your mating bond with Gabriel. A sense of love and protectiveness flutters through you, and your quick flash of anxiety fades away. It was real, everything was real.

After everything happened when you woke up the first time, you had remained with Gabe in his manifested mansion for a couple weeks. Mostly, you try to reaffirm that you weren't still dreaming at every opportunity. You had spent six months in that dream, and it was hard to wrap your mind around all that time being a waste, amounting to nothing.

Gabe taps your shoulder gently, asking without words to see if you were awake. You make a tired sound at him, absently tracing patterns on the archangel's chest. He had been hesitant to be near you too much after that first freak out. He was trying to give you all the space you wanted and needed, giving you anything you asked for and sensing the things you hadn't.

The first week was hard. You had only a few more freak outs, which Gabe helped you through, but you checked the mating bond fewer and fewer times each day. However, you still felt the cold and sudden panic strike you every once in a while. The doubts and the second guessing were almost as bad as the panic.

"So I've been thinking," you begin slowly, trying to get your voice to work after sleeping.

"About?" Gabe asks as he rolls both of you onto your sides to face each other. Slowly, he moved his hand towards your face, giving you plenty of time to tell him no or to move away. Shame flickers through you at that. Gabriel was slower to touch you now since you almost died. Another intense panic had settled over you a handful of days ago, and you had screamed at him to stay away, thinking he was the fake one. You'd never forget the pain on his face as you screamed at him. The djinn really did a number on you, and you hated it.

You push your head towards his hand and pull him closer. Sorry I've been a bit crazy, you wanted to say, but you couldn't form the words. You had a feeling Gabe knew what you were feeling anyhow. "I think I'm going to take a break from hunting," you tell him, looking at Gabe's chest. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for it since I keep getting my ass kicked."

"Well, I'm not a lot of help," he mutters to himself sulkily. You two had been over this many times: It wasn't his fault you were hurt. It really wasn't anyone's fault but your own. You knew the hazards of hunting and you had still wanted to help. You still wanted to help, but you weren't sure hunting was for you.

"Either way," you interject before he could go down that road again. "I think a break would be helpful. Checking our bond helps, and sometimes I still think I'm dreaming, but I need to get out of here. Fresh air, new scenery, a break from hunting... I think it'll help."

Gabe's lips pursed at the mention of everything being a dream, but it smoothed into a smile soon after. "Anything you want, Cupcake. I told you that before and I meant it. Any idea where you want to go?"

Shaking your head, you stifle a yawn. "Somewhere I've never been... but after I get some more sleep."

A/N: So this is currently all that I have for this (not so) little fic. As I said before, feedback helps greatly with the muses; plus I just like knowing what you guys thought! Anyway, if there's anything you wanna see happen in this fic, feel free to send me things! Or send in requests to the blog! I've got a week of vacation coming up so I'll have plenty of time to write. -Kristen

Edit: because my dumb ass forgot to tag people: @mija-novella @tiarna-spn @ackleholic96 @xpanicatthespnx @negansgrimes @jayde-waza7 @cantchoosejustonefandom @jaspesangriento @lunanightshade @books-netflix-and-pizza