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anika-ann · 6 months ago

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A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 1 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 7,3k

Summary: It's just a bunch of Avengers and SHIELD agents who often cooperate on missions - hanging out and getting to know each other better on a camping trip. What could possibly go wrong?

A few things. A few things could and they all seem to have you at the centre. Luckily, you have a hero in shining armour to help you in the time of need.

Warnings: allusions to NSFW, minor injuries, mention of misogyny, brief reference to PTSD, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration. Congrats @bigtreefest and thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - in this one, you shall find “why’s it…sticky?” and modified “here, you can share with me”. I hope to finish the second part in time 😁

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The afternoon North Carolina sun warmed your skin pleasantly, even as you found yourself panting after the having climbed up the hill you. The backpack with an attached sleeping bag and a tent pack was growing heavier and heavier on your shoulders with every step, but the view and the company – most of it anyway – were certainly worth it.

Everyone seemed affected by the fresh air and exercise the Great Smokey Mountains provided, the atmosphere light and content as this was, for most, the first trip in a long time that had nothing to do with a mission.

Sure, one could argue there were some strings attached, as the ‘mission’ was to solidify relationships within the group – several Avengers and several SHIELD agents who were often outsourced for Avengers-level missions – but still: no one was shooting at you. And you wouldn’t have to write a report. That counted for something. For a lot, in fact.

Plus, the path was the goal. The destination, while set precisely according to Steve’s plan, might as well be just about anywhere.

You glanced at him as he walked by your side, smiling absently. The corners of his lips only twitched higher as he noticed you watching him, his gaze flickering to you as well.

He looked as if he was born to do this. A halo of dark blond hair around his head ruffled by the wind, sunlight painting them almost golden. The heaviest backpack of all sitting on his wide shoulders, straps around his broad chest and thin waist. Legs clad in light track pants that hugged his thighs and ass in the best way possible, a downright magnetic sight--- no.

Uh-huh, no.

No thoughts of that sort. You had forbidden yourself from that, at least for the duration of this trip, because you had known Steve would be a literal walking thirst-trap, the sheer happiness surrounding him making his glow ten times brighter. You had forbidden yourself from thinking like this, because this was not an appropriate observation to make about a colleague, a superior no less, even as everybody else probably thought along the same lines.

It didn’t matter that you wanted to throw hands at the mere idea of someone else making that observation as well. You didn’t exactly have the right to do that and it was a lost fight before it even started. Steve Rogers was simply too beautiful and essentially perfect in all his imperfections, and god knew that those imperfection had nothing to with his body. Ass included-

Gaze quickly snapping up back to his face, you found him smiling at you warmly, a soft dusting of freckles adorning his cheeks from the prolonged exposure to sun. The same phenomenon could be observed on his bare arms; a constellation of freckles, where angels had kissed their kindest, prettiest and most loyal creation; a constellation of places where you’d love to press your lips and linger, breathe in the scent of his skin and taste it.

God, he was breathtaking and all kinds of alluring. The nature around you was too, sure, the smell of pines and sandy rocks whispering of vacations and good times, but the way he-

“Whoa!” you yelped as you suddenly found yourself tumbling towards the ground, foot having slipped on a rock, you supposed.

Hands outstretched, you had no chance to break the fall, only to slow it, the burden on your back completely changing your momentum.

The second your palms as much as brushed the rocky floor, you were being held by your waist so firmly that none of your actual weight landed on the ground. You would recognize the arms holding you anywhere – just like the scent of sandal wood, musk, man and comfort, suddenly wrapping around you.

The safest place on Earth.

Steve’s arms.

Your stomach made a little flip-flop as his hands squeezed you gently and helped you up, only releasing you when his eyes found yours, silently asking if you were okay.

You responded with an embarrassed smile.

“Whoa, you okay?” Daisy rushed to your side, bless her, breaking the brief moment you had allowed yourself to bask in the sweet worry in Steve’s gaze and in the heat his body was radiating, despite the fact you could feel everyone staring at the newly nominated klutz of the group of superspies. You.

Heat of embarrassment flooded your skin under everyone’s scrutiny – and more so under the judgement in Agent Hopkinson’s glare, the jerk. Then again, you could hardly blame him for looking down on you right now.

Allegedly one of the deadliest agents known to the world; bested by a few rocks on a hiking trail and Steve Rogers’s smile.

You chuckled self-deprecatingly, quietly thanking Steve and turning to Daisy to assure her that besides your pride, nothing had been seriously wounded.

“I’m fine,” you said, scratching your forehead with a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Must have missed a step, I don’t even know how…”

You did know how. You knew it precisely. You hadn’t been watching your step, too mesmerized by the beauty of your favourite Captain – and favourite person in the world. The man with the most honest, goodest, fiercest and most beautiful soul you had ever met, your closest friend.

“I do,” Agent Melinda May commented dryly, a pointed look aimed at your feet, revealing the culprit – and making you wish the Earth could swallow you, especiallysince it was her, the second in command at SHIELD – and one of the most admirable women in history of anything. And she had just seen you, an agent for both Avengers and SHIELD, a master of martial arts, to trip on nothing like a five-year-old. For the same reason too. “Your shoelaces are undone.”

“…thanks. And sorry. Go ahead. I think I can tie my shoelaces on my own,” you chuckled again, swallowing the shame even as you were among friends. Albeit some of them more reluctant than others.

“Clearly not,” Agent Hopkinson remarked, not missing the opportunity to belittle you, making you sigh as you crouched down, taking extreme care not to as much as wobble despite the heavy backpack.

Case on point, you supposed.

Having worked for SHIELD for years now, acting as the main liaison for situations where Avengers needed help, be it due to too many hostiles or the nature of the job leaning more towards spy-work that alien-invasion-work, your general experience was that tolerance and cooperation were the way. Some people were less pleasant than others, that much was true, but one should handle disagreements, various personality traits and different views on life. You certainly could; your approach to conflict, your supposedly calming presence and search for harmony in a team and the calm composure you maintained under pressure to quickly weigh your options, had even earned you your codename, Libra.

You genuinely believed tuning down an attitude for the sake of the mission was the custom, the golden rule.

And then you encountered Agent Martin Hopkinson. He was the exception. And a pain in your ass.

He got along alright with most people despite his arrogance; but you and him were a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He did not like you. Whether it was jealousy of your position, misogyny, or both, or something completely else, you wouldn’t know. But he was bitter and biting, always looking for a flaw, always making snidey comments.

You could handle that – an insult here, a mean comment there. After all, you could take a punch, a stab, a gunshot wound. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands and just a little wit, if you tried hard enough. You had faced soldiers, rapists, murderers; Agent Hopkinson was but a small hindrance, annoyance on legs. But by god, your fists itched whenever he opened his mouth. And the feeling was mutual.

However, as a professional, you worked hard not to reciprocate his aggression, even as it only ever remained verbal; the same could not be said about him. And he didn’t care zilch about who heard him be ‘smart’ with you either, which, in turn, led to several reprimands; and on one delightful occasion, to Steve almost breaking his jaw when he heard him utter a comment about Coulson pimping out the pet agent again, clearly meaning you. The wrath Steve had showed was nothing hort of holy, and holy was the miracle that Hopkinson was still alive; the fact he barely toned down his attitude was just idiocy.

But had you mention Steve was an angel? A fiercely loyal protective friend, a gentleman, who might swear on occasion and be a little shit par excellence, but god should help anyone whose behaviour towards others offended him. He might be an angel, but was an avenging one.

A caring one too.

As soon as you stood up again, Steve was carefully cradling the backs of your hands, examining the teeny scrapes over your palms with about five droplets of blood in total, frowny gaze flickering to your knee which you hadn’t even realized you had grazed too.

“We should disinfect that.”

“Steve, I’m fine,” you laughed, even as you let him examine the barely-there bleeding, knowing there was no use trying to resist. “Thank you for caring, but it’s literally just a scratch… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, his expression darkening a bit. “That’s not comforting and you know it. And any wound, if infected, can be dangerous – I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

You knew instantly what instance he was referring too, a small shudder running up your spine. Yet, the rational part of you argued that there was no comparison, even if the cut on your arm over a month back had not been all that deeper and wider than this.

“That was literally a poisoned blade, Steve-“

“We were about to take one more break before reaching the destination anyway,” he interrupted you, unrelenting. “Let’s head up to that clearing and we’ll rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Steve-“

“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Bobbi uttered nonchalantly as she passed you, joining the others who had gone ahead already.

You sighed. Bobbi Morse – an agent with a clever sense of humour, sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, a good friend – and she was using all of her powers against you. Wicked.

“It’s just a-“

“Captain’s orders,” she almost sing-sang, earning a grin from Daisy who only shrugged, as if to confirm her words.

You sighed, rolling your eyes; acutely not aware that Steve was still holding your hands in his and your body was heating up from inside at the prolonged contact – particularly your chest and something deep within your belly.

You looked up at him, mildly annoyed and rather amused at his insistence and protectiveness. And even though you wouldn't admit that out loud, touched.

“You’re overbearing. You’re lucky I like you,” you scolded him in a whisper.

He only grinned, his worried gaze clearing and lightning up at your feigned outrage, and squeezed your hands before letting go.

“I love you too. Let’s go.”

You bit your cheek as you nodded, reminding yourself for at least the tenth time since you had set off hiking: friends. The keyword of this trip was ‘friends’.

It was just really hard to actually remember that when Steve looked at you like that, talked like that, and you could still feel the warm imprint of his hands on yours.

Steve Rogers was a man impossible not to fall for; from almost absurd handsomeness to even more absurd goodness he lived by, from his sharp wits to effective moves, from the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled to the tenderness in his touch. His sense of humour equalled to the one of duty, his drive and determination in leading interlacing with a soul of an artist and a simple man who appreciated the most ordinary things.

You had clicked instantly; your friendship bloomed almost effortlessly, working alongside him making for many opportunities to spend time together. Despite barely having met about three months ago, the times you owed him your life for were numerous; and the few times he owed you his, even as there was no such thing as keeping score, only strengthened your bond. Moments where you thought you wouldn’t make it out. Long nights at motels or in a stake-out cars, filled with mindless chatter, profound talks and comfortable silences. His goddamn smiles alone, always feeling a little warmer, fonder, when directed at you.

The fact he had quickly slipped into a habit of calling you Lee, a nickname derived from your codename with a wordless implication of you being his refuge, with that damn smile on his plush lips, was making something in your ribcage tremble with affection.

You had fallen hard. But who wouldn’t? You were only human.

And his proximity, his friendship, his affection, they were most precious to you; no matter which form they’d have, you’d take it.

Even if it meant inappropriate thoughts and your heart racing fast enough to collapse from exhaustion when he cleaned your scraped knee and palms with such care and focus one might believe they were fatal wounds.

Your heart would tremble less if he hadn’t kneeled in front of you as he did so, but you supposed Steve Rogers was just that kind of deadly. He cradled your hands in his huge ones as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings, smiling when he was done; and grinning when you said Thank you, nurse Rogers, the words carrying both humour and respect for his late mother.

His smile resembled the sun so much you almost missed how the actual sunrays grew less and less warm. It was only a few minutes later – every one of them making you aware of the either knowing or incredulous looks following yours or Steve’s every move, almost enough to make you self-conscious when snacking – when you realized you were getting cold.

The solution was easy; and despite how effective it would have been in chasing away the cold and lifting your spirits, it did not involve hugging Steve. Instead, you dived your hand down your backpack through the layer of snacks and other small necessities towards your clothes for the occasion.

And your hand reached something it most definitely shouldn’t have.

“What the-“ you murmured, still acutely aware of all the gazes on you, now joined by Steve’s. “Why is it… sticky?”

Puzzled and horrified – and suspicious, because Hopkinson might have never played a prank on you, but lines always had to be crossed for the first time someday – you threw out the things from the top, pulling out what was normally one of your favourite sweatshirts.

Fairly soaked in a rusty-red oily substance that now resided in your luggage.

Not that it hadn’t been there before – but before, it was safely stored in a Tupperware container along with the thin marinated steaks you had been tasked to carry for the team’s first dinner above fire, Hunter carrying the grate.

“What is it?” Bobbi asked, frowning at the poor article of clothing you had intended to wear.

You didn’t have to sniff it to answer; mostly because the scent of spices was strong enough to answer for you.

“It’s the… marinade from our dinner,” you informed her with a grimace, a small whine escaping you as you went to inspect the rest of your clothes with dread and irritation rising. Because you already knew that the sweatshirt would not be the only thing having been hit. There had been enough to marinade to drown Steve and Bucky in – that was why you had triple-checked it was secured when you had pulled the straw for carrying it in your backpack. “How is that even possible?! I swear I checked it at least five times! I used rubber bands and a plastic bag and- ugh.”

“It probably gave out with all the moving around,” Natasha said, compassion evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed.

And it was. You were only just beginning to feel the mountains part of your destination. You weren’t even shivering – and god knew you had been exposed to much worse conditions with fewer clothing. It wasn’t even raining. You had been through much worse – this was but an inconvenience.

Kinda like Hopkinson himself.

Your gaze flickered to him as he himself put on a thin hoodie, your gaze narrowing in subtle suspicion; but there was no way. He almost looked as if he was pitying you. Genuinely. Though not enough to share his clothes; not that you’d accept if he had offered. But that was beside the point. The point was he probably wasn’t to be blamed for your current misery. Not where marinating your clothes was concerned anyway.

It was probably all on you. It seemed your Tupperware skills still needed some work. Goddamnit.

“It is fine,” you spoke to yourself more than anyone else. “I’ll walk the cold off and then stay close to the fire-“

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a presence by your side, a large navy-blue hoodie entering your sight; it was as if talking about your potential inconvenience summoned him.

An angel by your shoulder.

With a soft frown and a welcoming smile, he set the hoodie next to you as your hands still held onto your tainted clothes.

“Hey… here, you can have mine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, the words dying in your throat when you met Steve’s gaze. The golden hour had arrived, highlighting the freckles and the god-like warm glow of his smile. Your fingers reflexively twitched in the fabric of the t-shirt in your hands as the urge to run them through Steve’s hair instead hit you like a sledgehammer.

Friends, you reminded yourself again. FRIENDS.

He was offering a friendly gesture. It was no different than borrowing boxing wraps from Hunter for training if yours had torn, borrowing a dress from Natasha because none of yours fit the theme of a party, or borrowing heels from Daisy because they matched better than anything you owned. There was nothing special about this and no one would think twice.

Yet, it was a gesture you had to turn down, no matter how gentlemanly it was – no matter how at home you knew you’d feel in that hoodie. The idea alone was tickling along the most sensitive parts of your body and for that alone you should refuse.

“Thank you, Steve… but that wouldn’t be fair,” you said. “You shouldn’t be cold because of me.”

Plus, I know this one is your favourite, you wanted to say, but bit your tongue, aware that the scene was already out-of-chart intimate as it was. It certainly felt like it.

“I won’t. You know I run pretty hot…”

You are hot, you wanted to say – but a little choked noise from Hopkinson and Bucky had you quickly set your mind straight.

Until Steve pulled out the big guns – rather literally. Long fingers wrapped around your bare forearm, goosebumps erupting on your skin despite the nearly burning sensation, breath catching. It did not help the situation that something you didn’t dare to identify for the sake of your sanity flashed in Steve’s eyes when he touched you.

Friends. Friends, friends, FRIENDS-

“See. All warm. And it will stay that way even without a hoodie. Take it. Please,” he added. And soon, a content smile appeared on his face, because he recognized the signs of you yielding.

A girl had to pick her battles. Arguing with Steve was not one of those which you had no chance at winning – it would be like trying to move a ton-worth block of concrete with bare hands. You had enough experience with that – fighting with Steve on the matter of your comfort, not moving concrete – and there was no winning. He respected your choices, yes, but he’d fastened straps of a parachute on you himself if it came to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t have one himself; he was a sweet hypocrite like that.

“Fine,” you sighed, smiling just a bit. “If you insist… thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

You would swear you heard at least three people mutter under their breath: I bet.

Thoroughly warm and comfortable despite the numerous miles in your feet and tens of pounds on your back, you trailed behind Hunter and Bobbi, who were fighting animatedly – and most lovingly – about which European brand beer was the finest. For a couple who had been married and divorced, once talking about each other in not so nice terms including Bobbi being called ‘a demonic hell-beast’, they sure appeared very much in love – but every bit professional when it counted. They were lucky to find each other again, that was for sure. It made one long for a love like that; explosive as they were, you wouldn’t shy away from calling them soulmates. They belonged with each other; they were lucky to have find one another.

As you tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing, long to easily hide your palms, you wondered if you were being lucky or cursed on this trip so far. Tripping. Spilling sauce onto your clothes. Withstanding Hopkinson’s moody glares of which exactly one resembled a shred of compassion and only lasted until you put on the hoodie of the Captain America himself. And yet, surrounded by colleagues, friends and Steve, on a trip with a sun that had slowly begun its descent at your back, you had to count your blessings.

Lucky. You were luckier than most.

Daisy had joined you for a bit, walking side by side with you when the path allowed it, meaningless chatter altering with meaningful; a natural course of conversation between close friends who were together for a few hours with nothing else to do but take it step by step, literally, admire the nature and talk.

Steve had promised it would only take less than an hour and you’d make it to where you were supposed to set camp. He had fallen behind, walking with Natasha and Bucky, who, judging by his tone and Steve’s groans, roasted the team captain about something with Natasha’s occasional but effective help.

Now, about what you assumed was twenty to thirty minutes later, the last challenge of today’s journey awaited you; fording a river.

A rather cold river.

The weather was nice, sure, and you were having a good time; but the idea of warding through water reaching your thighs was not all that alluring.

But of course, Steve Rogers was the man with a plan.

Walking down the river and finding a relatively shallow section of the river with several large rocks, all you had to do was to step from one slightly slippery stone to another without face-planting or letting your heavy backpacks break your balance. Easy – or it should be for a group of athletic agents.

Yet, Bucky and Steve were discarding their shoes in a blink, rolling up their pant legs, ready to dip in and get wet so other wouldn’t.

Your heart skipped a startled beat, a lump growing in your throat, as you watched Steve regard his friend, already knee-deep in water, with the tinniest bit of hesitance.

Cold water. Cold water.

In the early June, the water couldn’t be colder than fifty, fifty-five degrees; but if the supersoldiers planned to stand there until all of you crossed the not-so-unsignificant distance while they’d assist, they would certainly feel it. And while history taught you both Steve and Bucky could clearly take the cold better than anyone, the idea of being the person knee-deep in the water was anything but pleasant.

Especially to someone who had already laid his life by diving a plane into icy waters of the North Atlantic.

Without a second thought, you left the line forming at the best crossing point, walking down the bank to crouch at Steve’s side.

He noticed your presence in an instant, snapping his head to you, an all-easy smile forming on his lips. As if you couldn’t see the brief flash of anxiety before he hid it. As if you couldn’t see his carotid pulsing wildly. As if he, the supposedly fearless man to all, could hide the one flicker of apprehension he allowed himself to feel from you.

“Are you sure about this, Steve?” you asked, voice as low as possible as not to attract attention.

As you met his gaze, understanding flashed in his eye. A silent conversation; he knew why you came to him, where your concern came from.

And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he ignored it. He just gulped and squared his shoulders and rose to his feet, suddenly towering over you again.

“Of course I am.” Of course he was. “It will be much easier than all of us fording through.”

You sighed, looking at him pointedly as you swallowed your irritation – and worry. That was not what you were questioning and he knew it. And you weren’t questioning his dedication or his ability to help either; just the decision to put himself through discomfort anyone else could have taken upon themselves, when it meant more hardship for him than others.

“I know. It just… it can be literally anyone else-- hell, I can do it.”

You could. You’d warm up after soon enough, judging by the terrain awaiting you. It was a better option that him going in there to freeze his toes off at and bring him back to--

To prove your point, you reached for the backpack buckles on your belly to take it off.

Steve’s hand was on your forearm stopping you before you could undo a single one, squeezing.

As your head snapped back to his face, there was a little crack through the mask he had put on, showing just the slightest hint of anxiety now. But there was a fresh wave of warmth in his expression too; gratitude lit up the blue of his irises the way the sun lit up the summer skies, dreamy and sweet.

His thumb pressed into your forearm gently, stroking, reassuring. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders faster than a butter on the stove, something stirring deep inside your bones as you took a shaky inhale.

“Thank you, Lee, but I’ll be fine,” he said, one of his eyebrows arching, a little quirk to his lips. “And we don’t want to undo the work the hoodie has done on you.”

Right. The hoodie. His hoodie. Yes, you were very much aware you were still wearing it, while he remained in a t-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and did all things delightful for his already insanely impressive physique.

Not the point.

You opened you mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by a shout from behind you.

“Oi, punk! You gonna help or just stand there enjoying the view?”

As you both turned to Bucky, you could see him helping Agent May cross the river, already halfway through.

Steve let go of your forearm, smiling at you once more.

“At least take the hoodie,” you insisted. He shook his head, your mouth opening on empty, deeming your effort fruitless.

“I have a jacket if I want… don’t need the hoodie,” he assured you, his grin earning a glint of danger that made your stomach flip-flop funnily, the heat in your abdomen burning hotter. “Plus, it looks much better on you.”

With that, he set off, jogging towards the water, and leaving you stand there with cheeks exploding with heat.

Damn you, Steven Grant.

Shaking your head, you returned to the line, anxiously watching Steve climb down into water, a shudder running down his spine.

“Come on. I saved you a spot,” Daisy said, gesturing for you to stand in front of her, earning an eyeroll from Hopkinson who stood behind her. “Everything okay with you and Steve?”

The phrasing had your head snap up with a startle, heart speeding up.

“What?”

What did she mean by that?! You and Steve?

No. There was you. There was Steve. Two separate entities. Friends.

Checking up on each other. Wearing each other’s clothes. Typical friends.

You relaxed when all you found in Daisy’s gaze was genuine care and curiosity, no trace of implying anything. Right.

You smiled back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Hunter and Bobbi followed after May; then it was your turn. The sight of the river, while beautiful, got a little less pleasant as you stepped on the first stone, testing just how slippery the surface was. It wasn’t awful – you could handle that, even as you felt the extra load on your back disturbing your balance.

But hey – the worst that could happen was you taking a cold bath. Just another inconvenience, right?

Yet, you didn’t have to worry. You didn’t even make it to the second large stone when a familiar pair of warm hands wrapped around yours, offering a gentle but firm support.

You met Steve’s reassuring gaze, a message without words: I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.

You send one back, squeezing his hands: I know. You makeme feel safe. You okay?

A tiny nod on his part and then you were on your way, careful taking step after step, always testing the surface first, making sure your every move was secure before shifting your weight. From one to another, you made it halfway to the deepest part of the crossing without any issue, actually enjoying the little adventure – which had obviously nothing to do with Steve’s touch, because you were not at all disappointed to see Bucky heading back from the other side of the river where he had left Bobbi to take you off of Steve’s hands. Not at all.

You were just stepping on the next stone when you felt a sudden drop in weight on your shoulders and back, an embarrassing yelp erupting from your throat as you scrambled for balance.

A fleeing thought of this trip being cursed for you indeed flashed through your mind as you braced yourself for the impact into cold water despite still trying not to have it come to that.

And it didn’t.

A splash sounded next to you, a few drops cooling your ankle, but that was it; you stood tall and firm on the irregularly-shaped stone, a hot vice of a grip on your hips, your hands having found purchase on just as hot and solid surface nearby.

Steve’s hands securely holding your hips.

Your hands on his shoulders.

Attentive blue eyes looking up at yours to assure both you and himself that you were okay.

Your face heated up, but the rest of your body was set on fire; indecent images of a wholly different situation with Steve’s hands having a steel-like grip on your hips and his eyes boring into yours flooded your mind, a wildfire of visceral need spreading through every single cell of your body and lightning it up. Steve was all about touch. Steve was all about eye-contact. You knew with absolute certainty that he’d never once let his gaze wander from your face when he’d sheathed himself inside you, feasting his eyes, because he lived for capturing images of beauty and he was a giver, the pleasure of people he loved being his own--- and you wouldn’t dare to look away. Your eyes might flutter shut at the sensation of utter-

Forcing yourself to snap back into present – into reality –, looking everywhere but at Steve as your whole body burned, a floating object caught your eye behind Steve’s back. A dark prolonged object, neatly packed, carried away by the stream.

Your tent. The thing that had fallen into water and nearly knocked you off balance was your tent, slowly sinking lower and lower as it slowed down its path down the river.

Great. Really great.

You were fucked.

How did it even-

“I got it!” Bucky hollered, changing course, heading to retrieve what was supposed to be the roof over your head for the next three days.

He’d get it; you weren’t worried. It was fine.

And the tent would be fine too. It was in the waterproof case. It would--- it would be absolutely soaked, because it was sinking. The entirety of the tent had gone under water, including the protective layer that was meant to save you from rain should it come to it.

There was no cloud on the sky but you had a feeling there’d be water dripping on you all night anyway.

How could it have fallen off? You had secured it with the buckled straps to the bottom of your fairly new backpack, checking repeatedly – every time before you put the backpack on again – that it held.

Then again, maybe you hadn’t done that after the fiasco – and the lovely result of it – with your marinated clothes. So you might be cursed, but by your own fault, really-

A squeeze to your hips brought your attention back to Steve, making you realize you were still standing in the middle of the river, stalling.

“I’m sorry, moving on, moving on,” you babbled, only to have him still your movements, eyes scrutinizing your face.

“You okay?”

Funny you should ask.

“Are you?”

You reciprocated the scrutiny; eyes roaming his handsome features, you searched for any signs of discomfort – not from having to hold you, but from still soaking his legs in the cold water. All you found was a reassuring smile; and yet, you couldn’t but brush your thumb inconspicuously over Steve’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort, incidentally along the hem of his t-shirt. An emotion flashed in his irises, eyes darkening a fraction, the grip on your flesh turning almost bruising before he began to release it, taking one of your hands again and then the other. You licked your lips – and you’d swear Steve’s gaze flickered to your mouth at that – standing up straighter.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky dropping your tent on the bank of the river.

“Thank you, Bucky!”

“No problem, dollface. Get moving though, my old knees aren’t built for this cold anymore,” he said, causing you to glare at Steve accusingly.

He had lied.

Of course he had fucking lied.

And he had the audacity to grin when you looked at him with accusatory and genuinely worried eyes.

“Let’s get you to the other side, shall we?”

“I packed your favourite snack, but I just decided I’m gonna eat it alone,” you threatened your vengeance for him for not being honest.

Steve feigned hurt so well you might as well believe it; but the hold on your hands remained gentle and secure as he helped you continue the path. “That’s cold, Lee.”

The corners of your lips quirked up.

“I know it’s cold. Now was it so hard to admit it?” you questioned as you beckoned to the water – causing Bucky to chuckle and Steve to deadpan when he instantly realized your trickery.

“You should be around more often, dollface,” Bucky said, approaching you and taking up on Steve’s task.

Steve just grunted and made his way to help Daisy. You felt your face heat up further at Bucky’s remark, grateful no one else could hear the exchange.

…were you though?

“I’ll take your words for it… and Steve?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly not really offended. “Thank you for catching me.”

His smile, no matter how small, said it all and felt like the softest blanket to wrap around you on a cold winter morning; I’ll always catch you.

Always.

Just as you had expected, once you all made it through the river, you reached the camp spot in no time; and just as you had expected, your tent was a lost cause. You could build it, hoping it would dry out overnight at least bit, but actually sleeping in it was out of question unless you wanted to wake up soaked up and sneezing.

In a brief moment of self-pity you granted yourself, you planted your butt on the ground, laying the drenched parts of your tent next to you, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it as you stared at the traitorous pieces of equipment, including the buckles that had been meant to hold the package to the backpack but had given out.

While everyone busied themselves with unpacking their temporary shelters as well – Natasha with Bucky, Bobbi with Hunter, May, Daisy and Hopkinson each on their own in the lightest and therefore smallest tents possible, Bobbi took note of your state, smiling compassionately.

“Are you okay? The water really did a number on that thing, huh?”

You reciprocated her smile wryly, no less grateful for her care.

“Yeah… But you know what? I win. Sleeping outside? I can stargaze. I’ll be fine,” you said, shrugging and rising to your feet to get to work. You could build the tent to have it dry out at least and wash your clothes in the lake you had settled at. “I’m just… gonna sleep by the fire under the open skies, in… borrowed, non-marinated clothes and with no sleeping bag, because with my luck, it’s probably full of bugs or itching powder or something. It’s fine. God knows I slept in conditions a lot worse than that.”

And wasn’t that the truth. You had slept in much better conditions too, but that was beside the point. You tried to summon the memories of horrible nights spent in damp clothes, freezing, teeth clattering so hard the sound made it impossible to fall asleep; unbearable heat, loud noises, even just annoying persistent chatter. Sleeping under the open skies was practically a blessing in comparison. A dream.

And you did not want to remember nights that had been very different, because that would only make you miserable at your predicament.

“Yeah, not on my watch,” Steve called out lowly, placing another hook in the ground, using his foot to step on it and dig it deeper. “Not when the solution is obvious.”

Your heart skipping a beat at the obvious solution, you barely had time to breathe in to respond when someone else did – in an extremely irritated manner.

“Seriously?! What, you gonna lend her your tent too?” Hopkinson spat, rising from where he had been crouching by his tent. “Maybe even keep her warm through the-“

Steve lunged his direction so fast you didn’t even have time to be offended by the implication.

But Bucky, the supersoldier he was, was much faster; his metal arm stopped Steve in his tracks, palm pressing against Steve’s chest before he could make the almost-breaking-Hopkinson’s-arm a pleasant memory for the man.

Still, Hopkinson had enough wit to shut up and step back hastily, raising his hands defensively. His face turned white as a sheet of paper; good. He had some brain left then, it seemed. How he had survived for so long you had no idea.

Gulping – and shamelessly satisfied at the fear in Hopkinson’s eyes, because Jesus he did not just say that, even as you had thought about exactly the same – you turned your gaze back to Steve and Bucky.

And something in your core exploded hot, a tug so violent and visceral it was almost painful.

If Steve had looked at Hopkinson like he could break his arm all those weeks back when he had made his stupid comment, now he looked like he could break every single bone in his body, snap the guy in half and enjoy it. And he’d enjoy doing it for you. To defend you.

Steve’s smile was always a beautiful sight and so was the softness he could look at you with at times; but the rage in his face now, the fire in his eyes, on your behalf, were nothing short of breathtaking.

Avenging angel indeed.

He might not be carrying a flaming sword, nor had his shield on his arm, but that made him no less menacing, no less divine; and no less beautiful.

“Do we have a problem, Agent Hopkinson?” Bucky asked calmly, despite the clear effort with which he was holding Steve back still, even as Steve visibly didn’t move a muscle.

You were barely moving at all too; your chest was heaving, the rest of your body strung tight with effort not to let show just how affected you were by Steve’s near literal white-knighting.

“No, sir,” Hopkinson saluted, nodding stiffly, before he scrambled to finish building his tent.

“Good.”

Few seconds of deafening silence was only interrupted by the scrape of shoes against ground as the camp slowly came back to life again. Bucky shot Steve a look before he let his metal arm down, watching Steve avert his still flaming gaze from Hopkinson with shoulders remaining squared; and so alluringly wide you just wanted to run your hands over them, just as breathless at the sensation as you were now-

“I mean, makes sense you’d share,” Daisy broke the silence, everyone visibly relaxing. “It looks like your tent is pretty big, eh?”

Your eyes went wide.

Loud cough erupted from Hunter’s direction as he spitted the water he had been drinking; Bobbi patted his shoulders, amusement clear on her face. Bucky’s face twisted in a questionable grimace; Natasha pursed her lips, seemingly one second from making a comment. May bit back a smirk; Hopkinson was only showing his back, but he clearly froze in his movements.

Steve just looked shocked – shocked enough to snap from the anger that had overtook him on your behalf.

You would think it would take Daisy a few seconds to realize how she had worded her statement, accidentally referring to a figurative ‘tent’ men grew in certain situations – but judging by her seemingly innocent smile and the sparkle in her eye, she knew exactly what she had implied. And she had done so on purpose and with delight.

She was right, however. Steve’s temporary dwelling was probably the biggest one at your site and it even included a vestibule, where all the equipment which was meant for everyone was to be stored. His tent had the most space for the reason he could put his backpack to the vestibule alone.

Steve cleared his throat, taking a few steps to you, a relaxed smile having found way back to his face.

“…are you comfortable with sharing a tent with me?”

You reciprocated his smile, shrugging, even as you had to work hard to swallow your amusement at Daisy’s comment. One that was very much on point.

Yes. You were very comfortable sharing a tent with him indeed. More than, actually, but not everyone needed to know that; and you could feel several knowing gazes on you as you answered as levelled as possibly.

“I mean… we have shared a room before for a mission. I’m fine… are you? Comfortable with that, that is?” you asked, perfectly polite, considerate and friendly, even as your heart was racing in your ribcage.

There was no reason for the racing heart though. Because this was okay for friends to do. Absolutely. If you having shared the room sometimes included sharing a bed, which had naturally resulted in cuddling, body heat searching body heat, no one needed to know – especially not Agent Asshole Hopkinson. What happened in a motel room stayed in a motel room. Always.

A cute crinkle appeared in Steve’s eye as he gave the answer you already knew.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Of course, it’s fine.”

More than, whispered his gaze, so you averted it and busied yourself with gathering the wet parts of your tent, clearing your throat.

“Good… that’s good. Thanks. I really appreciate it, Steve.”

“Any time, Lee.”

You could feel his gaze on you, the warmth of his smile like a soft blanket on your back. It was going to be a long, long night.

Part 2

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading 🤭 if you did, please consider leaving feedback and reblogging💕

I hope July has been kind to you!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x you #steve rogers fluff #essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration #essie’s 300 follower special #anika ann #a series of unfortunate events

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adioringhamzah · 10 days ago

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idk if u take requests but it’s worth giving a shot lolll!!! you dont have to but im sooo in need of the idea of being friends with benefits with hamzah. like there are deeper feelings attached and both of them clearly like each other but neither know or can bring it up…. this could be a one shot or a series IDKKKK BUT ID BE SO GRATEFUL

when you started being friends with benefits with one of your best friends, hamzah, you didn't think you would catch feelings

a.n : fwb y/n x hamzah, fem reader, sfw : fluff & mentions of sex, no fc, might make it into a series with pt 2 being hamzah's pov but only if u want!

you’re scrolling on tiktok when a notification pops up from one of your dearest friends : hamzah. "can i come over pls pls? :((" you read, reacting quickly with a thumbs up.

you already know why he wants to come, and it’s definitely not to watch a movie or drink tea.

for almost a month now, your platonic relationship has turned into something more. or, not really... technically, you’re still just platonic friends, but now with a few added perks.

it all started when you both realized you were single and seriously touch starved, but not quite ready for a real relationship.

the whole thing came up during a random movie night, when you watched a film about friends with benefits. at first, it was just jokes– both of you laughing and pointing out how relatable the characters were.

but then… you started wondering, what if this actually works? and it turns out it does.

now, whenever one of you feels like it, you just send a quick text, pick a place, and that’s it. no strings, no mandatory daily good morning texts, no explaining where you’re going or who you’re with.

while waiting for him to arrive, you brush through your hair quickly, wipe the mascara that smudged under your eyes, and for a second, think about changing into something sexier.

but decide against it since you don’t need to impress him and feel comfier in your pyjamas anyway.

when you open the door, hamzah’s standing there in his "vote kanye" sweater (which, annoyingly, you kind of love) and oversize blue jeans.

you let him in without a word, and he kicks his uggs off like it's his own home.

“so, how was your day?” you ask as he sits down on your couch.

“boring as hell,” he says, stretching out, “you?”

“same,” you reply, sitting next to him.

you both look at each other and just know you’re about to make this boring day a little more interesting.

"so what did you have in mind?" you ask him.

"ermmm" he starts to mumble, slowly getting closer to you, leaving your question unanswered.

he places his big hand on your waist and moves you even closer to him, now both of you being just centimetres away from each other.

this is not the first time you've made use of those benefits, obviously.

in the one month you have been doing this, it almost always went the same : you make the shortest small talk, then start by making out, before getting a lot more intimate and you can probably guess the rest.

hamzah actually loves making you try sabrina carpenter's poses, which had become almost a ritual.

usually, there wasn't any awkward tension. it felt natural as if he were your boyfriend. but this time felt weirdly different.

being so close to hamzah made you feel somewhat shy. you can feel his gaze all over your body while you look into his dark eyes filled with excitement.

he seems to feel your discomfort, backing up a little and looking into your eyes, trying to decipher whatever's wrong with you.

you brush it off quickly, explaining you were just lost in your thoughts and he seems to believe you, now getting closer to kiss you.

if you're actually honest with yourself, this friendship might not be that platonic (on your side at least)... you've been friends for about a year, and it had been one of the best of your life.

he always seems to "get" you, and you could spend hours just playing overcooked or listening to lana while talking about whatever news you just saw on tiktok.

but since you became friends with benefits, you felt different around him.

before, you had always loved him–as a friend–and really appreciated his company.

truthfully, it was the kind of friendship where if he asked you to be his girlfriend, you probably would've said yes.

but obviously, it never happened, and you consoled yourself with knowing that those faint feelings you have couldn't be confirmed... until you had sex with him.

fantasising about you two together was one thing. and doing everything you wanted to do to him but as friends was completely another.

you can't tell him, but after he leaves, you always feel lonely. a boyfriend would stay the night, make you breakfast, and check in with you.

whereas for you, instead of date proposals or check-ins, you get sent silly tiktoks or the shortest texts asking you to come at your house. never mentioning the intimate moments you shared.

once he closes the door and you're left all alone, you can't help but reminisce about his muscled arms around your body or his veiny hands on your boobs.

or even his soft lips on yours and his faint smell of bleu de chanel cologne.

and now, with him kissing you, all these thoughts came rushing back.

you start playing with his hair–that smells incredible thanks to his shea shampoo–, trying to distract yourself while he continues kissing you as if it was the cure to all of his problems (he must have a lot of those).

moreover, you can't help but feel jealous seeing his followings : a girlfriend could have a say in that. but you can't, and have to listen to him talking about whatever pretty girl he saw on his fyp.

but you aren't quite ready to give up on those benefits...

after all, what if hamzah has those hidden feelings for you too?..

next part

i hope u liked it!! also i love getting all of your feedback and what you thought of it, and tysm for the anon that requested this <3

#hamzahmoodboard #hamzahthefantastic #martin and hamzah #slushy noobz #slushy virus #hamzah imagines #hamzah the fantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fic #slushy noobz virus #slushie #hamzah and martin #hamzahthefantastic smut #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah smut #hamzah #hamzah fluff #hamzahthefantastic fics

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therobotmonster · 9 days ago

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What does the Comic tell us About the Brute Force Toyline that Never Was?

Brute Force was Marvel's failed attempt at joining in the toy-cartoon-comic fun back in 1990.

What isn't often talked about (if ever) is how much effort Jose Delbo (and whoever else was doing character design work in pre-production) put into planning for the realities of toy design, because it's not hard to suss out what was intended from the art alone.

Parts Reuse Was Planned From the Start:

The metal production molds are the most expensive part of toy production, so any time you can reuse parts across multiple figures is a savings. Each side has two unique members (Hip-Hop and Lionheart for Brute Force, Armory and Ramrod for Heavy Metal) three that share obvious parts with an opposing figure.

Uproar and Wreckless appear to use the same upper arms, upper legs, pelvis and probably chest. Uproar's bullets were likely planned as an accessory.

Surfstreak and Bloodbath appear to just have different heads, maybe tails, and either different accessories and limbs or just different accessories depending on execution.

Soar/Slipstream and Tailgunner appear to have unique add-on armor for the wings, heads, and legs. The wings might also been different, but I'd guess that when time came to mold plastic they'd have used the same ones.

Size Classes are Easy to Guess:

The "charge into battle" shot gives you every indication of what size everyone was going to be sold at. My guess, based on the art and the action features later shown off, is it would break down like this:

Small - Soar, Surfstream, Bloodbath, Tailgunner

Medium - Lionheart, HIp-Hop, Ramrod, Uproar.

Large - Wreckless, Armory, the toxic mutant (if they planned on making the off-theme guys)

Super Large - Heroic and Evil Transports

It's harder to place Heavy Metal since they don't seem to have add-on vehicles, but the art represents Armory as being huge and a major threat...

And uproar seems to have mass equal to Lionheart on his cycle, though he might have been packed in with the villain's large transport or had another add-on vehicle planned later.

It's likely that the vehicle-attached figures would have gotten solo releases, likely with different decos. As was the style at the time.

They Planned for Action Features, and I think I know what they were.

Furman and Delbo knew how to make a toy-comic, and everyone gets to show off their action feature in a toy-comic. Brute Force leaves some solid clues for what those features would have been. Now, there would probably have been launchers (Wreckless's Bearzooka), water-shooters (Surfstream almost certainly had one), etc, but I'm talking more about the showcase feature.

Surfstream and Bloodbath Were Low-Effort Transformers-

-or else they were biting MOTU Dragstor's style. Surfstream and Bloodbath clearly had both swimming/rolling configurations and upright figure configurations.

Soar (and likely Tailgunner) Had Blast-Away Armor

You don't do this trick twice in 4 issues if it's not your gimmick.

Wreckless and Uproar loved Hugs

My guess is there was at least some thought put into the possibility of Wreckless and Uproar having a "bear hug" feature that could work as general limb-swinging and chest pounding. In addition to the grabs Wreckless does a lot of right hooks and, oddly Uproar mainly fights with his mace for a character with bullet bandoleers. This one's harder to nail down because the actions are very obvious for bear/ape characters, but either a weapon-swing or a grab/bear hug seems really likely.

Wreckless's gun is the kind that you could mount on a figure's shoulder without them needing to hold it in-hand, so the arms might have been free for the action feature if my guess is right.

This Octopus Bastard Spins

You can't tell me Armory doesn't spin. perfectly radially symmetrical middle section designed in such a way the central body could spin while the legs and head stay stationary. arms that grip weapons or other figures, he's huge and clearly meant to be Heavy Metal's mega-weapon. He spins.

Hop-To Heroes

Now, if there's one thing the Brute Force characters do, it's leap. But the characters with the larger lock-on vehicle armor all leap out of the vehicle to attack a foe at least once.

I have to wonder if the vehicle figures were intended to be ejected from the vehicle as a leaping attack. (this would seem thematically in line with the armor-shed gimmick from Soar) This would be in addition to some general reconfiguration between low-riding "speed" modes and upright battle modes.

Ramrod would have had a headbutt gimmick.

It's literally all he does in the comic. I don't think he even has a gun.

Conclusions

Brute Force was intended into be a not just an action figure line, but a feature-heavy character driven line. The play patterns imagined were ambitious. I see Starriors, Transformers and Centurions DNA in there, and it would have been a lot more fun than Captain Planet for an eco-themed franchise.

The Marvel crew clearly learned a lot from the toy industry from working with Hasbro, Kenner, Mattel, Mego and numerous others through the years, and it shows. This concept started with toy ideas, it's just a pity no one was incentivized to make them.

#Brute Force #marvel comics #heavy metal #talking animals #adverttoons #toyetic #toy design #character design #1990s #80s nostalgia #90s nostalgia #deadpool

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toastermuffles · 3 months ago

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Hey guys welcome to my massive rant about q!Fit and how cc!Fit is incredibly talented and underrated. Since y'all kinda blew up my twitter post LOL.

There are SO many things I could touch on so it's probably gonna be scattered around a lot.

1) Fit had a great character set up from the beginning. From the very start many people knew Fits reputation as a 2b2t veteran, a place with a toxic environment and brutal people. He was no exception, he was closed off to relationships and was very cautious/closed off to many things. Not only that but his past made people distrust him in the beginning. I loved the suspense it brought with his character and the question of why he WAS actually here. Since the whole "vacation" thing was never very convincing. My favourite part was a lot of this was IMPLIED! He built on the character he portrayed in his YT videos and it worked so well, adding small comments about his character here and there (like when he said q!Fits hearing was bad BC of all the explosions he's experienced).

2) His RP skills were another level, not only was he in character almost the WHOLE time when he was live (even donos) when he first did lore he would tease elements of it by writing cryptic messages when others were live. SUCH a good idea when you have a smaller audience and want to create suspense. Not only that, he would have set dates and times for BIG lore stuff, this honestly made it so much easier to keep track of and engage in, not only alone but with friends too! His actual lore was very different from many others, it was cinematic and well planned, yet it still left room for sudden changes. The final result was a cohesive story line that the audience could interpret. I just loved how I could understand what was happening but also have questions/cliffhangers!

3) the fucking MUSIC. Throughout his lore and start of his streams I adored his choice of music, "Stranger in Paradise" being a personal favourite that was not only reoccurring in more than one language but fit SO WELL. I also think it was very clever how a lot of his music choices for his character didn't make sense until you understand the full story e.g. "Can't say goodbye to yesterday". All of this really added a new perspective on his character, almost through cc!Fits own eyes. Along with his music choice just being absolute bops OFC.

4) THE SYMBOLISM. My absolute favourite lore moment of his was at the end of the "Attachments" lore stream. Where the sun is setting over the mountain, slowly covering a patch of roses in darkness. ALL WHILE an instrumental Italian version of "Stanger in paradise" played. Roses of course being a symbol of not only his and Pac's relationship but love in general. His love for Ramon and his friends. The love he had to grow, just like a rose. While the darkness symbolizes his past catching up to him, more specifically his deadline. His time with his family and friends ending, his loves disappearing. Chefs kiss because it makes me cry everytime fr.

5) q!Fit's sexuality (gay). There is something so poetic about a gay guy from an extremely homophobic wasteland learning to come to terms with his own sexuality and love in general. Him slowly building a loving relationship with Ramon, Growing feelings for Pac, Nervously coming out to his son and then finally indulging in the first relationship and FAMILY he had ever had. Finally learning to love and to be loved in return. Even if he is scared about his mission, or taking things too fast. Just learning to live a normal life.

6) Fitmc is criminally underrated and overlooked. I still remember when Fit got his first proper piece of fanart in the museum. It was like... JULY? or something. And I think that says enough. People had no idea he was even doing lore at some points. Averaging at about 1-2k viewers in the beginning, until hideduo came into the mix. A lot but still compared to others very low. I think because his viewers consisted of his YT audience it didn't translate well. But I'm so glad he was able to build a loving community on twitch <3

Anyways it's 3am for me, I probably have more to talk about but this is basically what I meant when I posted that tweet. Feel free to reblog and add your own favourite observations or moments. I wanna hear them! ❤️

#fitmc #qsmp #qsmp fitmc #qsmp fit #fitmc qsmp #qsmp ramon #hideduo #qsmp pac #spotify #fypage

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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compos mentis 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: ookay here we go with this guy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The restaurant is buzzing with voices. It adds the disorienting ripple in your head. It feels like there’s something crawling over your scalp as you try to blink away the haziness. It’s just fatigue. That never goes away, only ebbs and flows.

You sit on the leather cushion of the curled bench. The booth is lit by a small chandelier hanging above and the plucking of strings strums under the drone of patrons. The sconces against the wall are blurry and bright and the people all around are merely shadows.

The server appears and doles out the food. You got the butternut squash soup with a French bread roll. With the weather turning chill, it sounded delicious. Besides, you don’t have the stomach for anything heavy.

You glance over at Andy’s thick sirloin and your mother’s glazed chicken. Your hunger roars in your stomach. You shakily unwrap the cutlery from the cloth napkin and thank the server as your mother taps her glass. The man, in his pressed white shirt, smiles and pours her some more. Andy clicks his tongue but says nothing.

“Anyone else?” The server offers.

“We’re good,” Andy answers for both of you.

You could laugh, if you had the energy. Anyone would look at you and know you shouldn’t be indulging. No, you have your lemon water and that’s good enough.

“This looks delicious,” your mother chirps and takes a gulp of chardonnay, a hum at the flavour. “Oh, that is divine too.”

“I hope you enjoy. Both of you,” Andy says. “I know you had a busy day.”

His elbow touches yours, almost as if it’s intentionally. You look at his shoulder but no higher. You steady the spoon over the bowl and dip it into the soup. You lean forward to taste as your mouth jabs into one of the slices of grilled chicken.

“Mm, the maple is nice but a bit much,” she complains after a sampling.

Andy exhales slowly, measuring his breath as if to conceal his sigh. It’s strange. He seems annoyed by your mother more often than not and yet he takes her out for dinner and got her that fancy ring. You don’t understand relationships. Not past the shallow ones written onto the screen. You probably won’t ever know the real thing.

You rest your spoon on the wide brim and take a piece of the bread. It’s still warm and it smells wonderful. You pinch off a morsel and dip it into the creamy broth. You nibble on it, resisting the urge to shovel it down.

“You sure the soup’s enough?” Andy asks. Again. He questioned you when you ordered an appetizer over and entree. He even offered to get an appetizer for the table instead.

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother swallows around her words. “You know she doesn’t eat very much. Her stomach is so sensitive. And look, that’s such a lot of soup. She probably won’t even finish the bread.”

You nod. You could gobble it all down but you know better. You’ve been sick before from letting your appetite deceive your mind. She’s right. You’ll be full soon enough. Your stomach always starts to ache after a few bites.

“Ah, sorry. I don’t mean to pester. I just want to make sure you have everything you like. If you wanted a piece of my steak, I think there’s a lot more than I need here,” he chuckles and cuts into the sirloin.

“Oh, she can’t have red meat. Too heavy for her,” your mother tuts. “Really, Andrew, you are so sweet to offer though.”

“Yes, thanks,” you murmur as you squish bread between your fingers. You’re suddenly very conscious of every bite you take.

“So, any more doctor’s appointments?” He asks. “I could come along next time? Since we’re gonna be one big family. I’d like to help out if I can. All this work shouldn’t be on you, Danica.”

“Oh, my,” your mother slurps more wine. “You really are a dream,” she touches his sleeve. “That would be wonderful. Nothing this week though. Just next month but she does need her script filled. If you don’t mind getting that, it would be a great help.”

You want to shrink into a speck of dust. You hate it. You’re rarely ever included in conversation. Not for real. You’re only ever the topic of discussion, like you’re not even there.

“Mom, I told you,” you insist and wipe soup from your oxygen tube. “I can go get it. It isn’t very far.”

“No, no, no. I told you before. You cannot take the bus. It’s absolutely out of the question. You could get caught on something or worse, you could fall.”

“Hm, that’s... she’s an adult, Danica, if she wanted to--”

“Andrew, you don’t know the risks. I do.”

He opens his mouth then shuts it. His lips thin as he holds back his retort. He saws into the steak.

“Well,” he looks at you, “if you’d like to come along, I can always drive you.”

“I can just do it myself,” your mom insists sharply.

“Relax,” he warns. “She wants to do it herself, she can. She’s not entirely helpless, is she?”

You chew your lip. Your mother has that look. The dangerous one. Andy’s never seen what it can truly lead to.

“Whatever is less trouble,” you utter and focus on your soup. “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Andy challenges, “you did nothing.”

You nod and take another spoonful. It’s really good but you can’t truly enjoy it. You just want to go home. Away from these strangers. Home where you can be alone. Where you can put some walls between you and your mom. You know you’ve already ruined her night just by being there.

🩷

Your mother almost finishes the bottle. That’s not unusual but since she met Andy, it’s less frequent. As you leave the restaurant, she’s leaning heavily on him, her heels click unevenly as one shoe keeps slipping loose. You follow, clutching tight the handle of your tank.

You stop by the SUV as your mother purrs and wraps her arm around Andy. She squeezes his butt and you look away, slowing as you try not to intrude. He flinches and pushes her away, clearing his throat.

“Danica,” he girds quietly, “please, not here. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not, I feel good,” she slurs.

Embarrassment scalds across your chest and down your spine. You never wanted anyone else to see her like this. You know it’s not her fault. It’s yours. She’s stressed from taking care of you and gets a little carried away trying to unwind.

“You’re all over,” Andy gets her to the passenger door as she staggers clumsily, “come on.”

He angles her around with one arm around her back and opens the door. He gets her into the seat as she giggles and her hand flutters down his shirt. He pulls away as he catches her hand before she can get any lower. You linger by the back of the car and act like you’re not watching.

He mutters but you can’t make out his words. He clicks the seat belt around your mom and slams the door. You wince and the wheel of your tank squeaks. He sighs and his shadow turns to you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he opens the backdoor, “come on. I’ll get you two home.”

You nod and come forward, head and shoulders down. “Thanks,” you drag your tank with you, “sorry.”

“Sorry, for?” He wonders.

You sniff and shake your head. You don’t know how to answer. How do you explain the truth to him?

“Here,” he reaches for your tank as you say nothing. “Let me help.”

You have to keep from crying out and reach to shove him away. You’re overly protective. You have to be. That’s what keeps you going and you’re just not used to other people touching it. He lifts it as he nudges you gently.

You grab the side of the door and haul yourself up. You heave as you fall into the seat, light-head and he fits the tank in in front of you. He reluctantly lets it go and tickles your knee.

“You okay?” He asks.

You watch his hand. You nod and grab the seat belt, “fine.”

“Hmm, I should probably look into some more accessible, huh?”

“No, no,” you protest weakly. “I manage.”

“Well, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have to just manage. You should be comfortable. That’s why I took your case.” He brings his hand up and surprises you as he brushes your cheek. You twitch. “You like dinner?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer and flatten yourself to the seat. “Thank you.”

He hums and tickles your skin before he recoils. He draws back and grabs the door. He gently shuts it as his eyes cling to you. Your heart is racing. You’re breathless yet that isn’t so unusual.

He gets in the front seat and your mother babbles and reaches for him again. He swats her back and starts the car. She mutters and slumps into the door.

“Danica,” he says. She doesn’t respond. He repeats it louder. She snorts. He curses under his breath. You’re happy she passed out, it’s worse when she doesn’t.

You sit in silence as Andy backs out of the space. He looms rigidly as you shrink as small as you can. Usually, he’s nice. He has this way about him that you assume comes from being a lawyer. He makes himself approachable. But not right now. He’s agitated. You can feel it fuming off of him.

“I’m sorry,” you eke out as the tension strangles you.

“You don’t need to apologise for her,” he insists with another sigh.

“But... she drinks because of me. I know.” You say. “Because I’m sick.”

He clucks and squeezes the wheel tighter. “No, that’s a bad excuse. She’s an adult.”

You don’t argue. There’s no reason too. For once, someone isn’t blaming you. Besides, how far did it ever get you.

He drives on and you turn to watch the dark buildings pass outside the window. The moon is a sliver above and the stars a speckle around the wisps of clouds. You stare up into the expanse, admiring the streaks of dark blue, black, and grey.

As the car slows, you tear your eyes from the sky. You blink in confusion. You’re not at your house, but Andy’s. You’ve been there once before.

He shuts the engine off then sits back and spreads his hand across his forehead, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just realised I’m at the wrong house.”

You stay silent. You thought your mom was asleep. He turns to look at you as he flicks on the compartment light. You squint at the sudden brightness. He means you.

“Do you need anything at your house?” He asks. “Medicine or...”

“It’s... in my pack,” you touch the belt bag across your stomach. “Tank’s mostly full.”

He nods and looks you over, “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. You don’t mind the guest room?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to make his life any harder. And he should apologise to you. No one does that. They don’t owe you that.

“Alright, again, I know it’s not easy for you. Probably a lot cozier at home,” he turns straight and shuts off the light. “Let me get your mom inside.”

He unbuckles his seat belt and his keys jingle as he opens his door. You click the button on your belt and pull the handle. You push outward and the door is pulled from the other side. Andy appears in front of you. He helps get your tank to the ground and offers his hand.

You don’t want to be rude so you let him help you down. You wheel around your tank as he shuts the door, the opens the passenger side. He ducks into the car and drags your mom out. He stands straight and shuts the door with his elbow.

“Sorry to ask but could you unlock the door? Code is...” he gives you the numbers and you blink as you try to keep track of them.

“Okay,” you nod and shuffle past him as he waits. You go up the walk and lift your tank up the low stone steps. You’re overly aware of him behind you.

You get to the door and stare at the keypad. As you enter the numbers, you realise they’re familiar. It must be a coincidence. In a certain format, they would denote your birthday. The pad flashes green and the door clicks.

You push down the lever and step back out of the way.

“Go on,” he nods.

“No, it’s okay,” you say. “Mom needs to lay down.”

He looks down at the woman in his arms then at you. Even in the dark, you see his disappointment. Again, you can’t help but wonder why he puts up with her. You have no choice, as she has no choice in taking care of you, but he does.

“You’re a good daughter,” he says as he slowly steps past you.

You trail after him, your tank bouncing through the door, and you shut it behind you. You stand on the mat and roll your wheels back and forth, trying to get the excess dirty from them. Then you sit to take off your shoes.

“You can turn on a light,” Andy chuckles as his shadow looms over you.

You stare up at his silhouette. He’s close. He must not realise it in the dark. You turn and flip the switch.

He smiles as he keeps a hold of your mom, “I’ll put her on the couch for now,” he says, “then I’ll get you settled.”

You nod and bend to move your shoes onto the rack. You don’t look up again. You’re hot. Very hot, even though cool air flows from the vent just across from you. It’s just because you’re used to being at home. That’s it.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #defending jacob #compos mentis

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signedkoko · 11 months ago

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Hello!

Could you write some romantic headcanons for Valentino with a fem reader who's an overlord, and is either equally as powerful as him or more? I would love to see the dynamic, because we know how he treats his employees, but I'm interested in how he would act with someone who's "higher class" (would he see her as equal, treat her with more respect ect.).

Btw, I love your works. Your writing style is amazing.

Have a nice day/night <3

Valentino X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are one of the strongest overlords, and you far outpower all the V's combined. Reader is female.

When you first met, it was a very back-and-forth relationship

Always nitpicking each other, bickering a ton, and making jokes at the others expense

This was mostly at meetings or at public events, but for the most part, Valentino never bothered to know more about you

Vox was a good friend of yours, though, so he always saw you in a positive light on social media or television

Slowly, Valentino had to come to terms with the fact that you were extremely well known, as you'd taken down many overlords who crossed you without so much as a scratch

In all honesty, he's quite the coward, so he tries to avoid you as much as Vox and Velvette invite you into their lives

The fact that anyone, let alone a woman, is more powerful than him? Its infruiating

Mostly because it hurts his masculinity, what little is left of it

While normally your strength would be worth exploiting, Velvette and Vox being so attached meant he was forced to respect you

Forced is the key word because he never respects anyone besides himself, which makes it way harder to be around you, though his awkwardness is what really reels you in

You two have a lot in common: you get what you want when you want it; the only difference is that you are independent and do everything on your own

Valentino preferred to have others do the dirty work for him, so you always laughed at how prissy he was

He probably smokes a lot more after being around you because it stresses him out

He's not worried about you, no, mostly himself; you are certainly a handful, and wherever you go, you take over the whole room

Valentino is influenced by your presence, which is noticeable to everyone around him

He is less hot-headed, less likely to lash out, and less likely to manipulate anyone into doing his bidding

It is almost as if he is trying to impress you further by being independent himself, as hard as it is for him

You know this; it's very blatant, but honestly, it's so cute seeing him try to act so big and bad when he's like a mutt next to you

Valentino idolizes you in your relationship; you are an icon that he must protect

He will go to extreme lengths for you

This stupid overlord will still bicker with you, but he will leave any prods towards you out of it and will only get huffy if you start insulting him too much

Author's Note - Honestly surprised I got requested Valentino but also excited! He is such a dynamic character, defo one of my hardest to write. I also can't wait to do Velvette! Thank you for requenting 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #valentino #valentino x reader

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barblaz-arts · 5 months ago

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Stephanie Beatrice had played my 3 favorite characters (Rosa Mirabel and Vaggie) and since I watched Encanto and B99 I have my head canon that Vaggie have both Rosa and Mirabel personalities.

Any way, I just want to know what is your head canon or theory about her? ( specifically about Lute calling her weak and why the other exorcist hate her)

Since she is your girl, I would love to read your essay about her.(I’m joking you don’t have to write that much I just like to read your post)

Thank you

"My girl"... Am I just "that one artist who's the biggest Vaggie stan" to you guys? (I won't mind it!)

Oh man! I do have some ideas! A lot of my headcanons were already kinda sorta mentioned in my fic/art tho, so sorry if you're not getting a lot of new info

- I have this headcanon that Vaggie's always been "softer" than the other Exorcists, which is what I assume Lute meant when she said she "always knew [Vaggie] was weak". I know it probably has more to do with how little time each episode has, but what if Lute was so ready, already behind Vaggie when she let that kid go, because she knew this wasn't the first time Vaggie spared a sinner? Maybe that was just the first time Lute actually caught her. Maybe she's always had her suspicions, when Vaggie's kill count would lower every year, and she'd sometimes find Vaggie saying a sinner got away somehow despite cornering that demon moments ago.

- although she's gotten used enough to her lack of depth perception when it comes to her hand eye coordination, especially when fighting, i like to think her reading ability could never truly go back to the way it used to be, so she has trouble reading/ writing/texting (if you notice, i always showed instances of this in my fic ;> )But because she's the hotel manager she still has to deal with them because of paperwork and shit, so she has prescription glasses that help. I'd wanted to include a scene in the First Guest where Vaggie almost cries after seeing Charlie thru the glasses for the first time, because she didn't think Charlie could be any more beautiful, but i scrapped the idea because I couldn't expand the concept enough to an actual scene that could be relevant to the overall fic. I probably should have just mentioned it in a paragraph or something, but by the time i remembered id already posted the chapter I intended to add it in. Maybe I'll use it for another fic.

- she prefers femme clothing so she doesn't really have a reason to do this, but she learned how to do all kinds of ties so that she could do Charlie's whenever

- she grew her hair to compensate for her lost wings

- she wasn't exactly a great cook before she Fell, but she was pretty capable when she lived alone in Heaven. Cooking for Charlie tho gave her the motivation to get better and actually enjoy it

- an angel trait that she could never truly abandon is being a stickler for rules. She's very strict on everyone and herself with these things, within reason. So even when she and Charlie started dating, she insisted that they can't sleep together until they've had their third date. When they're on the clock, they have to be professional and avoid flirtatious advances in front of staff and guests. Charlie didn't mind because she prefers privacy too.

- Vaggie's physical appearance slightly changed gradually the longer she stayed in hell. As an angel, her sclera was paler, her incisors duller, and her skin grayer. But as time passed, her sclera got more and more peach/pink, fangs sharper, and skin more purple toned

- i still like to think that Vaggie's old backstory back when only the pilot was out (having died in 2014 in her early twenties who worked as a sex worker in El Salvador) was still true. Maybe it's just because I've liked Chaggie since pilot, and I've grown really attached to that backstory. I also just really don't want Vaggie to be Heavenborn for some reason. Among the cast she just seems the most grounded to reality to me, so having her revealed to have never been human and born "divine" just doesn't seem right to me. I also just think it'd be cute and funny if it turns out she's chronologically the youngest in the hotel even tho she's basically everyone's strict not-mom.

- idgaf what Adam says, I wanna think that "Vaggie" is short for "Evangeline". I used to have these 2 coworkers in their late 50's to 60's who had Evangeline as their government name, but one of them goes by "Vanj" and the other "Vajee". Being older Filipino women who aren't really too fluent in English, they never thought there was anything wrong with that when they grew up with their nicknames. I like to think that the case was the same if Vaggie used to be human. I'm not sure how common English is in El Salvador, but I'm willing to bet it's possible she could have been given that nickname as a kid by an older family member who didn't know a lot of English. Also Evangeline makes more sense to have been the name of an angel cmon now...

#asks #hazbin hotel #i love any excuse to talk about vaggie

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mygnolia · 8 months ago

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[TEASER! ] it's cupid, stupid! | lhs

synopsis -› To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

pair -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

release date -› IT'S HERE!!!

genre -› fluff, mutual pining, hurt/angst, slow burn i fear, bakery au, summer au, post highschool au

trope -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers

wc -› currently 6.7k! probably will be 10-15k

cw -› food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, cursing, oh the miscommunication trope...sorry not sorry.

a/n -› even though i tried keeping food descriptions vague, i used the experience i had with my own grandma and her cooking to influence the way y/n grandmother cooks and the way it’s described so it might not be accurate for everyone! i understand not all cultures include baked goods with starches (since I mention a lot of flouring surfaces) so pls be kind to me :( ALSO!! i haven't written in MONTHS don't hate the writing pls we are all just in this fanfic hell tgt

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways.

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a seven year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry.

But that’s just one way of saying it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line.

Did the universe hate you, or did he?

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied.

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with.

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did better.

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around.

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway.

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you’ he leaves.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake.

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers.

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.”

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You quip, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning.

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging.

“Well, I stopped my your grandma’s house earlier.” Ah, so that’s where he went. “She said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t.”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.”

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s how I’d personally die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up.

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.”

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

—

there is no taglist i'm lazy and i might not write for a while if u likey pls reblog or save into ur mental archive hehe ty- ren

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shima-draws · 1 year ago

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Okay so a few things about the ending to the DLC. Spoilers below obviously

-Really REALLY disappointed they didn’t go with the whole toxic possession arc thing with Kieran and the new mythical (Pecharunt?) TO BE FAIR that was more of a fan theory than anything but it was one that made a lot of sense and had a lot of evidence to back it up. I guess I got too attached to the idea and was inevitably let down when the game didn’t go in that direction. Still it would have made more sense to give that extra edge as to why Kieran’s treating everyone so awfully,, and having him finally break free of that control during the final fight VS Terapagos would have been SO sick. Either that or before we even get to Terapagos Carmine calls Kieran out and that’s when he finally fucking explodes and rages and vents about his inferiority complex—and THAT is what summons Pecharunt, those negative feelings that it probably feeds off of or smth idk. Then we’d get a split second of Kieran finally being back in control and begging for help. And then Carmine realizing her brother has been under the influence of this Pokemon the entire time and. Okay I’m getting off track into AU territory now lmao sorry moving on

-Switching back to the Terapagos fight, I really enjoyed it! It wasn’t too long of a fight to be drawn out, but it was just long enough that it didn’t feel anticlimactic (also the MUSIC? STELLAR. Pun intended). ALSO ARGHFHH the five stages of grief Kieran goes through in that fight to finally accepting that he’s been going about this the wrong way and has been an awful friend and the way the LIGHT COMES BACK INTO HIS EYES I ALMOST CRIED. This is 10000x more emotional and powerful if you choose to bring Ogerpon with you and fight with her bc that really just. Hammers in the fact that despite all the bad blood and bitterness, Kieran still chooses to fight alongside you and the Pokemon he coveted so much…AND he even processes things enough to fully let go of all his hatred and anger and allows you to catch Terapagos because he KNOWS you’ll take good care of it and after all this time he still trusts you even though he’d probably hate to admit it. #GOOD WRITING

-Something really scary I realized. Kieran brought a Master Ball with him to catch Terapagos. 1. Where did homie even get that. 2. The fact that he was READY and didn’t even give Terapagos a chance to react, that he was essentially catching it against its will (which probably led to its power going out of control), that he was enforcing his own twisted desires and beliefs onto it and not considering its feelings (sound familiar? Looks at Ogerpon). BOY. 3. We’ve only ever seen ONE other person use Master Balls in SV. The AI Professor. I don’t know if this is significant in any way but if the Pecharunt theory WAS true that would make them so so similar and that’s eerie to me. Two characters controlled by something greater than them that they can’t fight…can you imagine how INSANE the dynamics would be listen to me

-Another thing I was kinda disappointed about was Briar? I guess I was just picking up on the vibes that she was actually a villain and would try to steal Terapagos from the player, but I probably gave Nintendo too much credit on that one lol. I do like that she’s not inherently evil, she’s just too absorbed and obsessed with her research to really pay attention to what’s going on around her. BUT. They should have pushed that WAY further. Either commit and do the full villain arc where she snatches Terapagos from Kieran right after he catches it to use it for her own purposes, or pressure him into Terastallizing it so much that it makes him uncomfortable. I want to see Lusamine levels of unhinged obsession. What she had was just a little bit too excited about Area Zero, not a full blown unhealthy and dangerous thing that puts everyone around her in danger.

-Following up on that. Drayton. I kept expecting him to also go villain arc IDK LOL I guess I want everyone to be gay do crime in this DLC 😂 But I seriously kept thinking he was just using the player to knock Kieran off his throne so he could take it right back from us. But no he actually genuinely cared about Kieran and kept pressuring us to beat the Elite Four so WE could knock some sense into him since Drayton wasn’t strong enough to do it himself. Which is a very sweet sentiment, I think :’) But am I the only one who was like bro calm down right after the fight where he was getting up in Kieran’s face and calling him ex-champion…..either he’s way too honest and doesn’t realize he was being cruel OR he was doing it on purpose to be a silly goober (but everyone else was like DUDE. LOW blow.)

-I still have questions. HELLO. HELLO. The notes in Area Zero mentioned the professor meeting a child with a white(?) book? Is that the Scarlet/Violet book? We still don’t know how the whole time travel paradox happened and why Heath talked about meeting Paradox Pokemon DECADES before the professor even brought them to Area Zero through the time machine? What is with the weird ass crystal tree sitting in the middle of a lake in the depths? Is there any significance to the Crystal Pool in Kitakami being connected to terastallizing and Area Zero? I’M JUST. AGHHH. I’m fairly certain we’re getting more content, maybe an epilogue to the DLCs but I’m going CRAZY I NEED TO KNOW NOWWW

-Also isn’t Area Zero like. Top secret hush hush. Why did Geeta let Briar publish a whole ass book about the HIDDEN SECRET of Area Zero that was miles under a closed off SECRET lab. I thought they were denying Briar access to Area Zero for YEARS, probably because they didn’t want her blabbing to the public. Idk. Maybe my memory is fuzzy on that one. Just feels very contradictory fhhdd

-The small little subtleties of Kieran regaining his regular personality as we went down….I ADORED that. His little smiles and him unable to contain his childish excitement and Carmine smiling at him with a knowing look bc after all this time her brother is FINALLY acting more like himself. And Kieran trying to brush it off like “wh-whatever” like he’s some sort of edgy teenager pretending he doesn’t care. GAHHHH it was so cute I wanted to cry 😭

ALL IN ALL it didn’t QUITE meet my expectations but it was still really good, especially considering this was all DLC content. Nothing will ever EVER top the main story of SV but the entirety of TTM and TID came pretty darn close. Kieran my sweet baby boy my blorbo I’m so glad you got your redemption arc and that you finally came to terms with your perception of strength and how it affects others. Baller DLC Nintendo do it again 👏

#Pokemon #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet #Pokemon SV #The Indigo Disk #Indigo Disk spoilers #Pokemon SV DLC #Pokemon Kieran #Kieran #Pokemon Briar #Pokemon Drayton #The Indigo Disk spoilers #Pecharunt #Long post #Shima speaks #Well there is always fanfiction. LOL

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tossawary · 4 months ago

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There are some fanfiction AUs where Sidious is revealed as a Sith earlier in the timeline and Anakin refuses to believe the evidence until Palpatine is dead on the floor, sometimes to the point of physically attacking the accusers to defend Palpatine's innocence. Which depending on the exact circumstances, in my opinion, sometimes stands as an interpretation in direct contradiction to Anakin canonically turning against Palpatine in "Revenge of the Sith", before ultimately changing his mind.

Anakin is reckless and arrogant and ultimately selfish, I won't deny any of that, he's a flawed character, but... he's not attached to Palpatine as his friend above everything else. When he finds out the Palpatine is a Sith, he goes straight to Mace Windu, someone he dislikes, and gives Palpatine up to the Jedi immediately. If Anakin hadn't come back during the Windu-Sidious fight, if he'd held out for another five minutes, then Windu probably would have won. Sidious came very, VERY close to getting his ass killed at the last minute and losing everything, because Anakin was still on the fence. It seems unlikely that getting cooked by Sith Lightning was part of Palpatine's plan.

Tragedy is a matter of timing, as much as it is about specific people and places. The "when" of it matters. Anakin's fall to the Dark Side is initially all about FEAR, though it soon gets twisted into anger and hatred. He's been dreaming about losing Padmé (and their child) like he lost his mother, and he's convinced that Sidious can save her. If there's no lethal threat to Padmé, then Anakin has less reason to turn on the Jedi and jump ship.

They're about to end the war, which has made Anakin a very important and powerful figure, and Anakin is even more at odds with the Council than before. Everything feels unbalanced and the future is uncertain. He's been forced onto the Council by Palpatine and the Council is essentially asking him to ruin his friendship with Palpatine, whom he likes in spite of and because he's a dictator, and who is also likely about to lose a lot of emergency powers. Anakin may feel like the "jealous" Jedi Council intend to take their dislike out on him as soon as the war is over and he's no longer so useful to them. They will almost certainly boot him off the Council ASAP, because he is absolutely not ready to be a Master or a Councillor, despite what respect he personally feels owed due to his powers.

By a quick line of dialogue in this movie, it's also revealed that Anakin at some point TOLD Palpatine about the Tusken massacre. Anakin is presumably afraid that the Jedi would react with rightful horror to what he did and punish him; he may resent them because he knows they "wouldn't understand" his anger. If Palpatine wasn't a Sith Lord and just got arrested, Anakin could still lose everything if Palpatine decided to retaliate by talking about Anakin's secrets.

When Anakin interferes with Windu killing Sidious and Windu dies, it's because Anakin is desperate to at least spare Palpatine's life to save Padmé, but now he's FUCKED. He already wanted to be both a Jedi Knight and married to Padmé at the same time, and he thought that the Jedi Council would try to take one or both of those things away from him if they knew. But now he's helped to murder the Master of the Order, which I don't think he necessarily wanted to do, and there's no coming back from that. The "they'll take everything from me" fear has skyrocketed. He probably thinks they'll try to take revenge (justice) at all costs. He chooses himself (and Padmé, initially, before he ends up killing her too) over the entire Jedi Order and the entire Republic to escape the consequences.

After this point, Anakin's fall is less a slippery slope and more like a straight shot downwards, because it goes right into the Jedi Temple massacre. Personally, I think this jump is a little far, as it's executed in the films. I might have preferred a scene where Anakin takes the troopers and asks that the Jedi Order surrender to the Supreme Chancellor first, maybe? Before it descends into chaos? So that Anakin can angrily argue that they left him no choice? I don't know. Anakin lets all of his past resentments go wild, just throws himself into his anger, and is having some full-on mental breakdown here, which combined with some bonus Dark Side nonsense from Sidious is not necessarily unrealistic, but does feel a little rushed and uniform for my tastes in the trilogy by itself.

With Anakin and the Jedi Order's fall happening pretty much overnight like that, it gives Anakin even less time to be pulled off this path by Padmé or Obi-Wan. If Obi-Wan had been there to de-escalate the situation before Windu's death, if he had found out about Padmé's pregnancy as Anakin breaks down, he might have been able to promise that he would care for Anakin regardless and point out that Palpatine might be the true threat to her life. And Anakin might have listened to that much-needed reassurance and management of his extreme emotions. He loves (is attached to) Padmé and Obi-Wan, supposedly, and he's listened to them about various important things before. But Obi-Wan wasn't there this time.

In an AU scenario, it's not unrealistic that Anakin might not want to believe that Palpatine is the Sith Lord. If the accusation comes from someone Anakin dislikes, I do think Anakin would be even less inclined to believe it. He's stubborn. He does consider Palpatine a friend. Palpatine compliments him and strokes his ego, where Obi-Wan can be critical and distant. Anakin might be the first one to suggest that someone could be framing the Chancellor.

But for all that Anakin is reckless and self-centered and has a spectacularly violent emotional breakdown in "Revenge of the Sith", he DOES turn Palpatine in first. He knows that the Jedi Council will try to investigate, then perhaps arrest the Chancellor, rather than go to murder as their first option. When Mace Windu tells Anakin to stay behind in the Jedi Temple, Anakin listens at first. He ALMOST left Palpatine to be handled by the Jedi Council without him. Anakin's last minute choice, initially made for Padmé's sake before going into a wild spiral of bad shit, is what tips the final balance towards Palpatine's victory.

In the original trilogy, Darth Vader is game to overthrow the Emperor for Luke, so they can rule the galaxy as father and son. He DOES choose Luke in the end. Admittedly, this is after 20+ years of pain and misery and violence that has brought him no happiness, which has probably contributed to Anakin's hatred of Palpatine. But it suggests to me that hot-headed Anakin could be easily persuaded to view Palpatine's reveal as a Sith Lord as a personal betrayal, especially if it happens earlier. Palpatine is behind the whole war? Then Palpatine is responsible for Padmé and Obi-Wan nearly dying too many times to count. Anakin might be angrier and more eager than anyone else to get rid of Palpatine, for lying to him this whole time, once he gets over the surprise.

Anakin is a somewhat unstable character, but he has reasons behind his behavior. He's unstable BECAUSE he's strongly guided by his fears and his anger and his attachments to his loved ones. I think it's reasonable not to like him, but sometimes I'm reading certain interpretations of him, and it's like, "That's not why he sucks, though."

Like, Anakin is motivated by fear of loss, yes, and losing Padmé is his number one trigger point. But he is ALSO motivated at times by fear of losing his position in the Jedi Order, because he likes some of the other Jedi, and he likes being a hero and helping people to some degree (also he may have some deep-seated childhood fear about having nowhere else to go but back to Tatooine). That's why he married Padmé secretly. And I personally think he values his position as a Jedi and his home there more than he does Palpatine's friendship, especially when he's younger.

If Anakin is not losing his mind on a cocktail of Padmé death nightmares, Jedi Council politics, the end of the war, war trauma, Palpatine's potential blackmail, and so on, then taking Palpatine's side too strongly stands to lose him his position as a Jedi, all that stability and compassion, all that privilege and recognition. Yeah, Anakin can be reckless and impulsive and relies too much on being bailed out by other people, but he's not entirely without a sense of self-preservation. It's definitely not impossible that Anakin would attack and even kill someone to defend Palpatine, that he would choose Palpatine over the Jedi, you can use Ep3 as very hard proof of that, but there are plenty of circumstances where I think it's more likely that Anakin would feel betrayed and turn on Palpatine for being Sith.

Because in both "Revenge of the Sith" and "Return of the Jedi", Anakin DOES turn on Palpatine. Sidious relying too much on his manipulation of Anakin gets him cooked by Sith Lightning in Ep3 and it finally gets him killed in Ep6. Seriously, Palpatine nearly dies in "Revenge of the Sith". It's so close. Anakin can and WILL murderously turn on this guy pretty quickly if the circumstances and consequences don't line up just right.

#tossawary star wars #anakin skywalker #palpatine #character death #spoilers #reblogs off

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