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mamoonde · 26 days

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i really really really love the idea of wei wuxian revolutionizing modern cultivation over breakfast and conceptualizing these different theories simultaneously because the adhd brain has no brakes and the only reason it took him a decade to publish all these ideas was because he could not stick to a single train of thought long enough to finish (verbalizing) it, let alone put it down on paper coherently.

the only reason he even got to publishing them eventually (and enrolling to cultivation theory grad program to get on that track) was because one morning, his undergrad thesis advisor, lan qiren, finally got fed up and sat him down for an early morning progress check-in because it was midterm season and wei wuxian still hadn't decided on a topic.

wei wuxian, fueled by an unhealthy amount of redbull and three all-nighters, finally word vomits all his 'convoluted' ideas which he'd thought were uselessly obvious and redundant (because he's gone over these like a bajillion times, it's very plain-as-day to him, so he probably just hasn't read the articles that say these exact things).

lan qiren, teacup frozen halfway to his mouth: ...first of all, i only understood half of how you got to these conclusions, which only means they are indeed too convoluted and will need to be pared down; secondly: you have never mentioned any of these ideas before. why.

wei wuxian: oh. haven't i? oh well, i just thought, xyz, because, obviously, abcde. which is really what the 2 centuries old law on ghjkl was alluding to, right? and so, logically, xyz.

lan qiren: [mind blown, screaming, good gods this is the same child who's always tardy and spent freshman year pulling on the metaphorical pigtails of my straight-laced nephew?!?!??!??!?!] ..again, why...how have you never even spoken or submitted these ideas?

wei wuxian: because!!! they're so obvious!! surely, it's been published somewhere already? i can't be the only one to connect these dots, surely??

lan qiren: incredibly, you are. no one else has even thought to question tradition nor pursued more thoughts on the law of ghjkl, with half as much...sound arguments as you seem to have. in the past century, the focus of modern cultivation has tended towards practical uses and tools, some fine-tuning, perhaps. not entirely new theories.

wei wuxian: huh....

lan qiren, sighing, feeling a migraine: your problem with your thesis is not a lack of focus or ingenuity, but likely to be more a lack of recent, evidentiary sources. you will need to become very familiar with the university archives and dig deep for sources that will back up every argument you make.

he jots down notes on a paper. "you will also need to strictly adhere to the structure and methodology of these articles, especially given how radical your thesis will be. if you are diligent enough, you may just be able to submit your thesis without too much of a delay." he slides the list of materials to a gaping wei wuxian. "depending on your output then, we can discuss the possibility of submitting this for peer review."

"peer review." wei wuxian repeats. "as in, that thing where some uppity committee of old coots put their stamp of approval for it to become the reading materials of undergrads like me. you're joking."

lan qiren chooses to ignore the sentiment about peer review committees being uppity old coots, especially considering how he can't completely deny it on account of some of his colleagues, but also as a member said peer review committee, he isn't exactly pleased about being lumped in the same category.

wei wuxian backtracks at his unamused look. "right, you're not joking, of course you're not." he slowly inches the list towards himself. "right, yes, i guess i'll uh, get to it then. ok bye."

----

idk, just, waves hand at wei wuxian candidly explaining new modern cultivation theories over cheerios at 2 in the afternoon to lwj who's trying to help him structure his grad thesis, getting mind blow dick hard at how this messy genius who's talking with his mouth full of half eaten cereal is the object of his affection....

wwx: --oh, oops, your highlighter fell

lwj: mn

wwx: ...aren't you gonna get that?

lwj: it's fine; i'll pick it up later. finish your thought.

wwx: right... i'll pick it up for you!

lwj, fighting for his life, trying to think unsexy thoughts: NO! sit. finish your meal, and then your thought.

#big brain wei wuxian #wei wuxian #genius wwx #in an interview for modern cultivation magazine he's asked: how do you do it?#wwx: adhd!#also a dedicated partner who tolerates your midnight rambling about spiritual energy and entertains your endless what ifs scenarios #bonus points if your partner is lwj who has amazing notetaking skills and a phd in decoding wei wuxian notes #wangxian #mdzs #modern cultivation au #also i love a supportive mentor lqr dont you #a mellowed out lqr who has a little more tolerance for radical ways of thought as long as theyre rooted in morality and good will #mamoonde short fics

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natashaslesbian · 4 months

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We Saved Each Other (Part Five)

Summary: you’re continuing to grow everyday with Natasha, facing all kinds of challenges both new and old

Word Count: 4.1k

Parings: (Natasha Romanoff x Kid!Reader) (Maria, Clint and Fury appear)

Warnings: Red room references, abusive father references, nightmares, shouting, crying, but the fluffiest ending

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Natasha was amazed at your progress. It had been a long 2 months but you were continuing to grow every day. You were starting to get more comfortable around the avengers but there was still some bonding to be done and many more mountains to be climbed.

-5 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-

“So” Fury said as he settled into his chair “how are the two of you settling in?” The director asked. Natasha glanced over to you through the glass, you were always scared when you couldn’t see her and truth being told Nat didn’t ever want to let you out of her sight either “we’re okay” she said “ok, and the truth?” Nick smirked “it’s been hard I guess” the widow wasn’t yet used to allowing her emotions to show “she doesn’t know any different” Natasha said, eyes still glued to you “we don’t know any different” she corrected.

“Woah y/n look at this one!” Maria said as reached right to the bottom of the box of brand new toys Clint had sent for you “what is it?” You asked as you waddled over “it’s a doll house” Maria said “do you wanna open it up and put it together?” Your eyes lit up, you had never had your own doll house “yes please” you said. It was a challenge for Maria, this whole situation was. The agent had her walls built so high and watching over you, playing with you, it brought a lot of memories back for her. “What are you going to name this one?” Maria said as she passed you the brand new doll “I can name it anything?” You asked “of course” Maria said.

“We can’t keep her here without a guardian much longer Romanoff” Nick coughed “what does that mean? Where are you gonna send her?” The panic ran up through Natasha’s spine “we don’t want to send her anywhere, but she needs a guardian” Nats blood settled again “are you asking me to do that?” She asked “I’m not asking you to do anything, in all honesty you can’t, you haven’t been a US citizen long enough” Nick said “you need to have been here at least 12 months” Natasha sighed “that’s another 2 months away” the red head said. She would be damed if these people just shipped you off somewhere new “why can’t she just stay here until I can be her guardian” Natasha asked “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted” Nick said, falling back into his chair. Shit. She was letting her guard down again, letting some stranger see her emotions “well I don’t want her just thrown into the care of someone else” the widow said “we can take care of her, I can take care of her. Please Fury, let me help her”

“Hey y/n” Nat said as she opened the door “you wanna get some lunch?” She asked, you shrunk into yourself again, still wanting to play but not wanting to get into trouble “okay” you nodded your head. Natasha picked up on your discomfort “would you like to stay and play a bit longer?” The red head asked “yes please” you timidly said. Maria said her goodbyes and Natasha came to join you on the carpet “what’s your dolly’s name?” She asked, your cheeks grew a certain red and you giggled “Natasha” you smiled “you named her Natasha? After me?” The agent asked “yeah” you shyly said “why did you do that?” Nat asked again “because you’re my best friend” you smiled up with your y/e/c “you’re my best friend too y/n” Natasha said, feeling her heart open more than it ever had.

-6 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-

You were so exhausted. Each time you slept your mind was plagued with demons, running around and throwing very bad memory into your consciousness. Right now was no different .“Y/n?” Natasha cooed “you’re okay y/n, wake up for me sweetheart” she pleaded. You had finally settled at 6am after a night of tears and no sleep. It was 8:30 now, things were going so well, Natasha was thrilled that you were getting some rest at last. “Y/n sweetheart, it’s Natty can you hear me?” She asked. You could hear her calling you but she was too far away, your father dragging you even further and pushing you into the arms of a strange man. Natasha cradled you in her lap, wiling you to wake through her thoughts “I’ve got you darling. It’s okay you’re safe” she continued to say.

Finally the darkness had gone and the overhead light stung your eyes slightly as you rolled away from it, further into Nat’s grip “Natty” you cried out “I’m here baby, I’m here” she said as she gently stoked your hair behind your ear “d- Dreykov” you whispered “its alright y/n. I won’t let him hurt you, he can’t get to you okay” Natasha said to you, and herself. “Do you want sprinkles?” Natasha asked, you nodded your head at the mention of your beloved stuffed bunny. The widow had bought if for you after your first nightmare, she had always wanted a stuffy and she was honoured to gift your first ever one to you.

You wrapped Sprinkles arms around your own while Natasha tucked you back into the soft sheets. “Get some sleep okay sweetheart” she said, bringing her hand back to your forehead, trailing her fingertips across your hair line “okay” you yawned “Natty?” You peered up at her “yeah?” She said as she sat on the plush mattress next to you. “can you sing me a song?” You asked “a song?” Nat asked in return, slightly terrified at the prospect of singing “yeah” you said sleepily “daddy used to sing me lullabies. Be-before he turned scary” you frowned and Natasha lent down to leave a kiss on your forehead, the action taking both of you by surprise “what did daddy used to sing for you?” The widow asked. You hummed in thought for a moment “I don’t remember” you said “how about I sing you one that my mommy used to sing to me?” Natasha smiled at the brief memory “where is your mommy?” You questioned as you rubbed your sore eyes “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her in 15 years” Nat believed Melina had died many years ago but she didn’t want to put that in your head “that’s a long time” you said “it is” Nat nodded “are you going to leave me for 15 years?” You quietly asked, afraid of the answer. Natasha couldn’t promise you anything, her future was just as unclear as yours but she was sure of one thing “I’m not going anywhere y/n” she said “now you close those eyes” her Russian accent filled your ears with a beautiful tune as she began to sing. Her comforting warmth lulling you into a deep slumber.

-7 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-

“No.” Natasha firmly said “I’m not going on this mission!” she slammed her hands on the wall “Romanoff” Fury warned, Maria cutting him off “the whole point of you coming here was that you would work under S.H.I.E.L.D” she said “well things have changed!” Natasha yelled “I need you for this mission Natasha” Fury boomed “I have to be here for y/n” Natasha said, scratching at her palms to calm her anger “you can’t stay glued to her side forever” Maria sighed. “You don’t get it!” The widow screamed, loosing all control “then explain it to us!” Fury said, mirroring Nat’s anger. “This is the safest place y/n has ever been but she doesn’t feel it yet.” Natasha began “she won’t feel safe for a long time and I may not be the perfect role model but I am the only one she trusts, the only one who will ever understand the hell she has been through!” Natasha’s voice was cracking, the tears threatening to spill “you both went through it” Maria said, catching the halls attention “they need time Nick” she said looking at her superior “a month is long enough” he said “no it’s not” Maria shot back “only Natasha and y/n can tell us when they’re ready” the brunette came to stand by Nats side, a silent promise that she was there for her. “So what do you need?” Nick asked “time” Natasha said.

“Natty?” You quietly called from the bedroom door, the three adults in the corridor turned their attention to you “hey y/n, are you okay?” Nat asked “why are you shouting?” You mumbled “sorry sweetheart we were just having a little disagreement” the red head said as she came to pick you up. She stopped immediately when you backed away from her “its okay no one’s angry” she cooed coming down to your level “I don’t like it” you sniffled “you sound like daddy” Natasha’s heart sank, she wanted to make a different impact on your life. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to scare you” Nat said trying to defuse the situation. Her efforts fell short when Fury announced his exit with the slam of the corridor doors. You flinched and pushed past the red head into Maria’s legs, breaking Natasha’s heart without knowing it. She couldn’t hold it back this time, big strong Nat, the tears started to fall. She quickly stood and turned on her heels walking past you and Maria, intertwined together. “Natasha” the agent called after the widow, her sobs fading and allowing her to hear yours. “It’s alright y/n, let’s go and get a hot chocolate okay”

Natasha caught the faint red stain in the mirror as she turned on her feet, the blood beginning to seep through her pointe shoes. This was the only way to let it all out. She had cried enough, spent too long feeling sorry for herself. Now she needed to make up for her mistake, and she needed to forget the look on your little face. The balletic music filled her head enough that Natasha didn’t notice when Clint came into the studio, only realising he was there when she caught his frame landing from a leap. She continued to twirl until Clint stopped the music “that looks painful” he said as he pointed to Natasha’s shoes, she simply shrugged. “Maria called” Clint began “told me what happened earlier. Why are you punishing yourself?” He asked. There it was again, the feeling of her tears creeping up on her “because I’m a monster” she whispered “No. you’re not” the spy said as he handed his teammate a fresh water bottle. He tilted his gaze to the bench and Natasha understood the message. “You’re allowed to be hurt too you know” Clint said as he passed nat a first aid kit, understanding that she would probably want to tend to her own wounds herself. “This has been a huge scary change for you, and for y/n. It’s not always going to be easy” Clint settled on the bench close to Natasha “she got scared Nat, but she won’t stay scared. I see it in her face, she trusts you, you just reminded her of a time I’m sure she’d rather forget” Nat looked over to her fellow agent every few seconds, in between placing her sneakers back onto her bruised feet “do you remember your second week here?” Clint asked “we were training in the gym. You dodged my right hook and I took you straight to the floor, and you stayed there for an hour. You were afraid, because I reminded you of a time you would rather forget” Natasha thought about the memory in detail, imagining that’s how you must have felt today “but here you are now, sat here with me. And I know you’ll never admit it, but I see it on your face too; I see that you trust me” the two shared a glance, accompanied with a small smile. Feeling content that Natasha was safe to be on her own, Clint left her to ponder. Ponder about you.

When Natasha found you, you were watching finding nemo. You and nat had watched it together for the first time last week. Maria was close by and Natasha wished it was her next to you instead of sprinkles. “Hey y/n” she quietly said, not wanting to startle you “mind if I join you?” She asked from a safe distance, thrilled when you nodded. She sat on the armchair next to the couch and you instantly knew that she was too far away for your liking. Shuffling down of the cushions you made your way over to Natasha and slotted your hand into hers, a large smile forming on her face. You pulled her to her feet and dragged her back to your mountain of blankets, silently asking her to join you, which she of course did. After a while of content movie watching, Maria excused herself, leaving you and Natasha to talk. “Y/n” Nat said, drawing your focus to her “I’m so sorry I scared you today” you looked up to her emerald eyes and saw nothing but regret, a look your father never had. He had never told you he was sorry after shouting and he definitely didn’t after he had thrown you around the house. You knew Natasha was different, every touch to your skin was gentle and every sentence was soft. “I forgive you” you said noticing a tear forming in the corner of Natasha’s eye “don’t cry Natty” you said as you came to your knees and crawled to wipe away her stray tear. “I promise you I will never hurt you y/n, you don’t have to be scared of me” Natasha sniffled “‘M not scared of you” you sat back on your heels “but I am scared of daddy” you admitted “and I’m scared of Dreykov, and the red room. I don’t wanna go back there” Natasha broke hearing you say the very same words she had once pleaded. “You don’t ever have to go back there baby” the red head cried with you “not to the red room and not to daddy, you can stay with me forever” you collapsed into Nats arms and held on tight, you knew you were never letting go “look at me y/n” Natasha said as she lifted your chin with her pinky “it’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid too sometimes, but me and you are gonna stick together and I will always look after you” he sniffled “I’ll look after you too Natty”

-Week 8 at S.H.I.E.L.D-

Waking up next to Natasha felt safe. She was warm and always had one arm holding you close. The widow had tried to coax you into your own bed, adjacent to her own on the other side of the room. Each night, however, you would always end up cuddled together. Natasha understood it was where you felt most comfortable but still dealing with her own nightmares at the same time was hard, thankfully you were a heavy sleeper but Nat always feared she would startle you awake too.

Today was a big day. You hadn’t been outside of the S.H.I.E.L.D grounds since you arrived, the outside world seeming too scary. Natasha had seen you though, staring up at the city through the fencing. Your little mind was so curious and you had yet to explore the world outside of an abusive environment. You were excitedly nervous when Natasha told you she needed to take a trip to the store, you had never been to one of those before. The red head didn’t really need to go but it was a good excuse to get you out of HQ. She had agreed with Fury that a car of specialist agents would follow close behind, dressed in everyday clothes as to not frighten you although they were ultimately there to protect you. Fury accepted Natasha’s many requests, despite not fully understanding why he needed 10 members of his team watching the surrounding areas.

“Good morning Natty” you said as you gently laid your weight over her stomach, you were clingiest in the morning and Natasha loved it. Thinking back to the first few weeks you were here, it was remarkable that you accepted her loving touch so easily now. “Are you looking forward to our trip out today?” Nat asked “yeah. But ‘M a little nervous” you mumbled behind a yawn “that’s alright sweetheart” Natasha said as she pushed your baby hairs to the side “I’ll keep you safe y/n” she smiled, and you smiled back. The redhead considered asking you if you wanted to go to a cafe for breakfast but thought that might be too much for todays adventure.

“Okay, other foot darling” Natasha said as reached for the laces on your right shoe. “Alright, I think we’re ready to go!” She finished with a gentle pat to your shoe clad foot. You followed Natasha through the building towards the garage area, reaching for her hand every now and then but deciding against it. “Woah!” You said as you helped the redhead push open the door “would you like to pick a car? We’re allowed to take any one that we want!” She said “yes please” you excitedly giggled and instantly moved towards the convertible Volkswagen Beatle. “You wanna take the bug y/n?” Nat asked, you nodded with anticipation and the widow helped you into the car seat Maria had gotten for you.

You were amazed. The trees swaying so freely, all the colours in the bushes just filled with flowers. You couldn’t keep still the entire journey, every corner filling your little mind with wonder. As curious as you were, you failed to catch the unmarked S.H.I.E.L.D car trailing you. Natasha however, was glancing in the mirror every few moments to make sure they were still there, your safety being her number one priority. You got excited when the tall buildings of the city came into view but were immediately disappointed when Natasha took a left turn into a car park. “Ok here we are!” Nat said “do you have the list I gave you sweetheart?” You held up the notepad high to show Natasha you had taken good care of it.

When you reached for Natasha’s hand this time, just outside the shop doors, she obliged straight away. Keeping a tight grip on you and the basket in her other hand, she asked you what was the first item on the list. Natasha didn’t actually need any of the things she had written down but they were basic necessities so would one day become useful. You stayed close to your best friend the entire time, starting to feel slightly overwhelmed as the store filled up with customers. The lights were getting to bright and the mixed sent from each department was too much but as long as Natasha was beside you, you knew you would be okay. “Ok I think we’re all done darling” the redhead said “shall we double check?” She continued as she put down the heavy basket. You began to list of every item on your piece of paper “toothpaste” you said “check” Natasha answered “shampoo”

“Check”

“Soap”

“Check”

“Lotion”

“Check! I think we’re all good!” Natasha finally said after you had ticked of every item. “You’ve been so helpful y/n, how about we go and pick you out a new outfit?” Truth be told you were ready to leave but you had been eyeing up the clothes every time you wandered past “okay” you said and retook Nat’s hand.

You didn’t like this section anymore, at first it had been fun all these bright colours and pretty dresses, but each time you picked something out Natasha would let go of your hand to pull it off the rail. Eventually both your hands were so full of clothes that you had no way to connect, thankfully Natasha had suggested that it was time to leave so you followed close by to the checkout making sure you could see her red locks the entire time. A group of teenagers came charging towards you both, taking you by surprise and causing you drop your new sneakers. You quickly lent down to grab them but when you looked up again Natasha’s red hair was no where to be seen. You immediately panicked, not being able to see the widow, dropping everything in your grasp to run ahead and catch up to her. You expected she would be just around the corner but when you shuffled around on the slippery floor, she wasn’t there. A gentlemen came up behind you with your discarded items “here you go y/n” the man said, causing you to let out a squeal at the unwelcome touch “no go away!” You screamed and ran in the opposite direction.

Meanwhile, Natasha was frantically searching for you in every isle and around every bend. “Y/n?” She called at every corner. All your shopping was long gone by now, nothing mattered more to Natasha than you did. She ran through the store, halting when she saw agent Carlos holding the clothes and shoes you had picked out. She came crashing into him demanding to know where you were “she got frightened and ran off agent Romanoff” he timidly said, fearing the darkness in the red heads eyes. “Well contact everyone else! Find her!” She demanded and began to race the store in search for you again.

The toy isle seemed a great place to hide, you knocked the boxes of the bottom shelf causing quite a commotion. While pushing the remaining toys out of your way, agent Hill had caught you in the corner of her eye “Romanoff I’ve got her, the toy section” she said into the cuff of her sleeves drawing questioning looks from other customers. Just before you could climb into your hidden safe space, an arm interlocked with your own “no!” You yelled “let me go!” You kicked as Maria pulled you towards her “it’s alright y/n it’s me” she pleaded. Through your teary eyes, you couldn’t quite make out her face and although you recognised her voice she wasn’t who you wanted “no! I want mama! Where’s my mama!” You cried out.

Natasha came speeding down the shop floor, scanning every isle despite knowing where you were. A huddle of onlookers had appeared, Nat simply pushed through them ignoring their huffs of disapproval. She rounded the corner to see you backing away from Maria screaming for your mom, how Natasha’s heart broke, knowing she could never bring her back to you. “Y/n?” The widow said, your head immediately whipping to her direction, your screams stopped for a moment but your howling increased as your eyes met Natasha’s “mama!” You cried as your feet picked up and you ran straight for her. Natasha’s world fell still, you were calling for her. Calling a name she had only dreamed of one day hearing and knew she never would. “Mommy!” you cried once more as Natasha’s world came back to life, her own feet leading her towards you. “Come here baby girl!” She said, and moments later your bodies collided into the most loving embrace the two of you had ever witnessed “mommy’s here y/n” she said into your ear as you cried into her shoulder “please don’t leave me mommy!” You sobbed “I’m not going anywhere y/n, I promise” Natasha said “mama’s got you. Let’s go home baby”

That night, Natasha welcomed you into her bed, wanting to hold you close. You had spent all evening trying on your new clothes (Maria had made sure they were purchased along with the toys you had accidentally broken) you had put on a fashion show for your new mama and required her validation for every outfit, not that you needed it. You had worn yourself out before your usual bedtime and Natasha had decided the two of you would have a movie night. Your eyes had fell closed no more than 30 minutes into the first film. Nat turned off the lights, leaving just the one on her bedside table, you shifted as the redhead pulled the duvet up to cover you both “mh” you whined “mama” you huffed as you cuddled into her side “I’m here sweetheart” your mommy said, holding you tightly in her arms. You fell soundly asleep in the arms of your mom, the woman you love most in the world. As for Natasha, she fell asleep holding in her hands what had only ever been a dream. A dream the red room had tried to take away from her, yet here she was holding her daughter, holding you.

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This is the longest fic I’ve ever written so I apologise if there’s any mistakes I tried my best to get it done quickly as well and with my dyslexic ass there’s probably mistakes all over it

Happy new year guys🩷

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x little!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #clint x natasha #maria hill #nick fury #agents of shield

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ivymyers · 11 months

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Clingy (Revali x Reader)

Personal project. Enjoy! (requests are open)

Warnings: a little bit agnsty, point of view does not make sense, I wrote this kinda fast, Revali being a dick

“She’s so…goddamn clingy.”

You flinch as you hear these words uttered from Revali. It didn’t feel good, but he wasn’t finished and you could confirm who was definitely talking about.

“She always wants to spend time with me, I’m lacking in all my skills because of it. Y/n is such a distraction.”

You get that he likes to show off and brag, but saying this crap to the champions was too far. You had made such an effort to get them to like you. It hurt that Revali was killing your progress behind your back. Not to mention how absolutely hurtful this all was. All the times he wanted to hang out with you, you thought he was being sweet, different than how he was around others. It crushed your soul that he would say such hurtful things.

You ran out before you could hear the responses from the other champions.

—

All week you avoided Revali, whenever you thought of a fun idea for the pair of you, it was shot down by the neverending repetition of that phrase. Over and over it played until you couldn’t do anything but think about that.

—

You sat on the flight deck to feel the rushing wind in an attempt to drown your feelings. As the tears fell down your face you couldn’t stop thinking about what your Rito lover had said, even though a week had already passed. He called you clingy. What an awful thing to be called for trying to express your feelings. Although, you were finally beginning to see the reasoning behind it. You heard the footsteps behind you and immediately knew who it was.

“Y/n? Hey, I just wanted to see if you wanted to do somethi- are you crying?” His heart stopped when he saw tears.

“What?” you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Y/n are you ok? I’m worried. You haven’t wanted to do anything with me all week.”

“I’m fine.” You say coldly.

“Y/n what’s up?” Revali actually looks a little concerned now. “Do you want to talk somewhere?”

“No, I said I’m fine. Wouldn’t want to waste any of your precious training time.” With that you stormed off. Leaving Revali mildly confused.

—

[timeskip to later that night]

It was the middle of the night when you slipped out of the hammock. He probably thought it was annoying to have to share with you anyway. God, you were so annoying weren’t you? Once the tears started they wouldn’t stop, so instead of trying to calm yourself down, you just curled into a little ball to comfort yourself.

The sound of you in distress woke Revali. Immediately he was terrified when you were missing from the Hammock. Hearing your sniffles from the corner made him feel sick. He hated it whenever you weren’t feeling your best. Instantly he got up to go sit down next to you.

“Angel…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Revali, I’m just trying not to act so…Goddamn clingy I guess.”

The room got quiet very fast. To see you in distress made Revali anxious, but to know he was the one who caused it? He felt extremely guilty, and pissed at himself.

“Y/n…”

“No, it’s fine, you don’t need to justify yourself, I understand, I’ve been putting myself first in our relationship too much. It’s my fault you haven't been enjoying yourself. I feel so bad Revali.”

You stared at him with tears flowing down your face and he wished he could take it all back. You were his whole world and he crushed you.

“I’m sorry y/n. Those words were…god I’m such a dumbass…” he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “What I said to them last week, none of it was true. I was showing off and…it’s something I need to do less of. Please. Come back to the hammock with me, I couldn’t bear it if you left me.”

You followed him slowly and silently, thought jumbled and confused.

Revali, on the other hand, was freaking out inside. This distress he caused you, what if he messed you up permanently? He knew it would take time for you to regain his trust…but the way you feel must be ten times worse than how he does. He made a mental note to take you to your favorite spot in the morning and make your favorite meal. But for now, you were already asleep against his chest in the hammock.

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Hope you enjoyed! Sorry if it was kinda all over the place.

#botw #revali #revali x reader #fanfic #x reader #clingy #agnst #mean

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avelera · 5 months

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I think the term, “flaws” as a necessity for writing well-rounded fictional characters is often misunderstood. It can lead to new writers thinking these flaws should be in a laundry list alongside their OCs hobbies, eye color, and favorite food.

All of the above traits shouldn’t exist in a vacuum. They all need to serve the story in some way, usually by illustrating plot, character, or themes in a way that enhances the story.

Saying a character’s flaw is that they’re “clumsy” isn’t really a flaw unless this trait stands between them and what they want in a meaningful way. Being clumsy is an obstacle for a dancer, or for a teenager who will be socially judged and derided in a meaningful way to the story. Even still, it’s a somewhat shallow and overused flaw.

What got me thinking about this is the fanfic characters I tend to enjoy writing are flawed people. The more flawed, the better.

I struggled to write Nicky and Joe in The Old Guard because they don’t really have any flaws. They’re never stupid, or selfish, or awkward, or mean. I couldn’t really write them until I wrote a story where the plot is that one of them gets returned by amnesia to his pre-character development Crusader self, back when he was prejudiced, quick to anger, and provincial in his world view. Then I had somewhere to go with them.

By contrast, Newt and Hermann from Pacific Rim are riddled with flaws, and it made them not only popular characters, but a blast to write. They’re rude, loud, snarky, selfish, self-involved, self-important, arrogant, and mean. They’re also both sincerely trying to save the world and willing to sacrifice themselves to do it if necessary. It makes them a wonderful mass of contradictions and it makes them feel like real people.

And recently I wrote about my desire to write Dream and Hob from Sandman as more like their comic selves, with all the rough edges and taciturn misanthropy and selfishness and rudeness that implies. I don’t want to write perfect people.

I saw a post that imagined Hob as passionate about returning artifacts stolen by the English to their country of origin. It was a very sweet post and fun, don’t get me wrong. But as a perverse creature, my first thought was, “Ok, but what if he wasn’t? What if he, as a former bandit and soldier for the Crown, wasn’t in favor of the artifacts being returned? What if he was the opposite?”

Now to be clear, I think it’s more in character for the brief glimpse of the Teacher Hob we see for him to be more worldly, more in favor of repatriation. I genuinely think that take is probably more accurate to the character.

That’s not the point.

The point is that I think one way to avoid creating these sort of perfect shiny soft characters with all the rough edges sawed off is to ask, “Ok but what if they didn’t do the right thing here?”

What if they don’t have perfect, up to date progressive political views on all possible topics? What if they weren’t always altruistic? What if they don’t always say just the right thing to their lover when that person is feeling down? What if they have moments where they’re stupid, selfish, insensitive, prejudiced, rude, awkward, or off-putting?

Personally, I think that’s how you get more interesting characters, who are more like real people and, more importantly, have room to grow or sometimes not grow in a way that better serves your story.

#Maggie rambles #writing #sandman meta #tog meta #pacific rim meta

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daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months

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Support System pt. 5

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4

Roy Kent x Reader

I'm on a roll. Roy Kent making me feel things 🥵 This one is a bit angsty but buckle up - we're getting to the good stuff soon!

Yes, this is the second update in one day... what of it? That picture of his thighs made me do it.

Chapter 5

The rest of the week goes as you’d originally planned for the most part. Lexie was absolutely fine to go to school the next day and you’d already worked out your work plans based on when you were actively trying to avoid Roy. Now, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to do that. By Thursday, you could feel a low ache inside but couldn’t put a finger on it. Work hadn’t been happy that you’d ducked out on Monday afternoon, but you’d tried to fight your corner. It became clearer that they weren’t the business you wanted to work for.

It had left an annoying feeling behind that no matter what you did, you weren’t enough for them. So much so, that by Wednesday, you took in a letter of resignation. They made some noise about becoming more flexible but not wanting to alienate other people who worked for them - they called it ‘special treatment’. You’d argued that everyone should be given more flexibility and more support in their work-life balance - no matter what that life outside of work looked like. They’d painted you as the bad guy and made it look like Lexie was the reason for needing flexibility when, really, you wanted the same for everyone in the business. Giving two months' notice terrified you, it accelerated the need to find a new job. You had savings, but they wouldn’t cover your bills forever. Every night saw you scouring the job sites for something as close to Richmond as possible. But all of that wasn’t the cause of the ache. It was more of an anticipation. Butterflies at rest. You’re approaching the school doors on Thursday afternoon, getting ready to join the queue of people picking up, when you see both Sara and Roy. The butterflies are suddenly up in arms, and the ache explodes into something more. Oh shit.

“Hey! Has your week picked up? Roy said he had to rescue you on Monday, was Andy a total dickbag?”

“Oh god he was horrible, I have no idea looking back now why the fuck I married him. And my week is bloody terrible - I quit my job.”

“What?!”

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I couldn’t carry on the way I was, it was a nightmare. With both them and Andy not being remotely supportive it just makes life so difficult.”

“What are you gonna do?” Roy frowned.

“I’m looking for something closer to Richmond if possible. If not, then the city is fine but the company has got to be a bit more progressive than where I am now. Trouble is there’s not much call for deputy Directors.”

“What about skipping the deputy bit?” Sara asked. You shake your head,

“Don’t think it’ll work. Typically that would be too much - more hours, more demanding. I love my work and I can handle demanding - like, really demanding. But I desperately need the flexibility so I can be around for Lexie.” Sara nodded.

“I get you. You should get yourself a Roy, they’re invaluable.” She poked her brother lovingly. You ignore the comment and the fuck off he responds with. “Easter holidays next week! Are you doing anything?”

“I was going to try and go away for the day somewhere. Jump on the train down to Brighton or something?”

“That’s a great idea! I’m off for a couple of days - we should all go.” The girls pour out of school hand in hand and you agree with Sara to plan a beach day trip. In the meantime though, the girls demand another sleepover. “I’m working honey, but if Uncle Roy can take you then of course you can go. As long as it’s ok with Lexie’s mum.”

“Course it is. I’d love to have you, Phoebe. Friday or Saturday, whichever is easiest for you.” You tell Roy.

“Do Saturday and you can all come to the match on Sunday?”

“Yeah, ok, we’d like that.” You smile and the butterflies go crazy.

~~~~~~~

Lexie insists on a full on pajama party for her sleepover, she makes you bring blankets and pillows downstairs and banishes you to any other room - preferably the kitchen so you can keep them supplied with snacks. By the time Phoebe arrives at 4pm, she’s transformed the living room into some sort of Disney inspired boudoir.

“Come in.” You smile at them both, opening the door wide. Phoebe heads straight for the living room and the door is firmly closed. “Well… I guess they don’t need me.”

“What are you going to do instead?” Roy asks curiously.

“I have a book and a bottle of wine in the kitchen, that’s me all set.” Giggles and bangs sound from the next room, “Not sure I’ll be getting much sleep though. Beer? Wine?”

“Yeah go on then.” He follows you to the kitchen and picks up your book before he’s even sat down. After reading the blurb he takes a picture of the cover.

“You can have it when I’m done.” You offer, turning down the speaker which had been blasting Taylor Swift a little too loudly.

“Not you as well,” he pointed at the speaker. “This is all I get to listen to.”

“They’re 8. She’s like their queen. And yes, I can’t help listening to it as well.” You smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I can’t promise Anna and Elsa will join us, but you’re still welcome to stick around.”

“Thanks.” Watching you potter around the kitchen for a while, he picks up the book, makes sure to save your place and flips to the beginning. Assuming he’s engrossed, you concentrate on cutting bell peppers and onions for fajitas, the silence is comfortable, he’s so quiet you pretty much forget he’s there. The music still plays in the background,

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life. And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch,” you sing softly, bopping to the music. It’s not until you go into the pantry under the stairs for spices and see him at the table, watching you, that you remember he’s there. “Fajitas ok?” You stop short and clear your throat. There’s a smile just bubbling in the corner of his mouth, waiting to break free.

“Forget you had company?”

“Fuck off. Maybe.”

“Fajitas are great, thanks.” You forget shyness and awkwardness. It’s your new favourite song so despite his presence, you carry on as you were with slightly less dancing. The girls are persuaded to join you for dinner, even helping you with the homemade guacamole. Roy puts up with the three of you singing along to Taylor Swift at various pitches. “You sound like a bunch of fucking cats.” Phoebe responds by singing loudly down his ear with her wooden spoon microphone.

When the girls are settled with popcorn and a film, you see him to the door. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Last week. You called yourself stupid. Fucking repeatedly actually, and you’re wrong.”

“Oh. Umm… thanks. Felt pretty stupid. Anyway, like I said, I made a mistake.”

“Yep. Begged me to forget it.” He said quietly. The way he lingered on his words had your heart thumping and your body flooding with desire. You’re sure you must be trembling, your thighs press together and you swear you could come apart just from the way he’s looking at you. But then the girls are dancing through the hall and it’s a sharp reminder that you’re not alone. You see the disappointment flicker in his eyes right before he gives you a small smile, “goodnight. Call me if Phoebe starts playing up. Tickets are waiting for you for the match tomorrow.” You nod, not sure you can trust your voice to stay steady, not really sure you can trust yourself to put a full sentence together.

“Bye.” You whisper.

~~~~~~

“Lexie! Come on, we need to go and get the train!”

“I can’t find my goggles!”

“You don’t need goggles, darling, the sea is going to be freezing! I know it’s a heatwave but I don’t expect much swimming!” Who were you kidding, two 8 year olds in a heatwave would absolutely be getting in the sea at the first opportunity. You had a beach bag packed with suncream, towels and everything else you could possibly need. You and Sara had planned together so that you didn’t duplicate and have too much to carry. “Lexie! Let’s go!” She bounces down the stairs and straight out the door, leaving you trailing after her. At the station, Sara and Phoebe are already waiting and you're surprised to see Roy with them. “Sorry, couldn’t get Lexie out the door!” You hadn’t seen Roy since the night the girls had their sleepover, apart from seeing him down at pitchside for the football match. It was Tuesday and the last couple of days had felt like an eternity. You feel his eyes looking you up and down as you approach the platform. You get on the tube into the city and change for the train to Brighton. The Easter holidays meant everyone had a similar idea and the trains are packed and hot. Your sundress and hat are no match for the heat, you have to take your hat off and use it to fan both you and Sara. You’ve given the girls the only two seats you could find so the three of you stand to one side to keep the aisle clear.

“Fuck this. I should have driven.”

“Where’s the fun in that!” Sara laughed.

“How are you not hot?” You ask, he’s still in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thought I was?” He asked quietly while Sara was distracted looking back to check on the girls. You roll your eyes and shake your head, turning away from him to look out of the window. “You look lovely.” He adds, putting a hand on your hip as the train sways you from side to side. He doesn’t move it once the train has steadied. When you get there, you follow the crowds down to the beach, the girls running slightly ahead and Sara and Roy either side of you. As you get closer to the beach, Sara steps in between the girls and takes their hand to keep them close. You get caught up in a group of people but you can still see Sara up in front. Through the crowd, a hand takes yours and pulls you in. Roy interlinks your fingers. “Don’t get fucking lost, we’ll never find you.” He says. Sara waves that she’s found a space and you make your way in her direction, not letting go of his hand. The second you put Lexie’s hat back on her head after smothering her in suncream, she grabs Phoebe’s hand and runs to the sea.

“Stay in sight!” Sara tries shouting after them but it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve heard.

“I’ll go,” you offer with a grimace, “let’s see how fucking cold it is.” You kick off your sandals and pull your sundress over your head, revealing a royal blue swimsuit underneath.

“Aha!” Sara stops you and throws a bottle in your direction, “cream first. I’ll go and find us some drinks. Beers?”

“Ooh yes please.” She goes off in the direction of the beach vendors. You spray your shoulders and arms with the sticky cream, trying to get as much of your back as you can. Once you’ve finished, you pass the bottle to Roy, avoiding his gaze.

“Be careful,” he says softly, you can’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, fortunately. You squeal as the water hits your legs,

“It’s fucking freezing!” You shout to Sara as she returns with three bottles of beer and two of fizzy pop. She leaves everything with Roy and joins you as you watch the girls play mermaids in the cool, shallow water. “This was such a good idea. I needed this.” You hold your hat and look up to the sky, basking in the warm sunshine.

“Such a good idea,” she agrees. “Though I thought Roy’s brain was going to short circuit when you pulled that bloody dress off! God, it was bad enough when you came down onto the platform earlier - I think he stopped breathing! But then with that underneath,” she gestures up and down your body and whistled,

“Oh don’t be daft.”

“I’m not, you look great. And Roy thinks so too.”

“Hmm if you say so.”

“I’m his sister. I have met every woman he’s ever brought home. Every model, actress, singer… you name it. Back then, when he was younger, he did it because he knew it was what was expected of a hotshot footballer for Chelsea. You get the hot girls. But fuck, they were boring. He was boring when he was with them! Since he’s gotten older, he doesn’t give a shit. Dates whoever he wants. Keeley was lovely but not quite right for him. He might look and act like a grumpy fucker, but he has so much love to give and he wants to be loved. He’s intense, I know. But when he finds the right person, god she’s never going to want for anything.” You’ve both waded into the water up to your thighs, your hands drift across the top of the water.

“I’ve never been loved like that.” You admit.

“Me either. Be pretty fucking good wouldn’t it?” She laughs. "Also, we definitely deserve it."

"Oh god, we really fucking deserve it!"

~~~~~~~

You manage to persuade the girls to get out of the water for a bit so you can get food. While you've been gone, Roy has dug the girls beach towels from the bags, changed into shorts and is reading. You'd happily thank every god, deity, or lucky star for the sunglasses you're wearing because your eyes are drawn to his legs as if you haven't seen him play football for as long as you can remember. The sun dries you quickly so you pull your dress back on. "Who wants food?" You ask the girls, who are eager to agree. "I see chips. I'll be back as soon as I can, Lexie, be good for Sara and Roy please."

"I'll help." Roy's on his feet before Sara who wiggles her toes in the sand and waves you both off. It's a short walk to the beach bar, but it's busy so Roy gets you both a beer while you wait. Space is limited but there's one side of a picnic bench spare for you to share. Your knees knock together as people squeeze by and there's hardly enough room for you to sit side by side. He turns on the bench to put one leg either side of the seat and you mirror him. Your back is to his chest but you don't lean back into him. His fingertip traces the strap of your dress from the top of your shoulder down to where it joined the back of your dress, across the centre of your back and up the other strap. His touch makes you shiver, even in the heat of the sun. "You need more cream, you're going pink," he said, "and you have freckles here." His knuckle grazes a line from the back of your ear into the dip of your neck and it's all you can do to breathe normally. The waitress comes over with a tray full of food cartons which you accept, grateful to give your hands something to do. You get up from the bench and hold the tray in one hand so you can offer the other to Roy while he bears his weight on his bad knee to get up from the table. You did it with such little fuss or acknowledgement that he's left staring after you as you start back down the beach to Sara and the girls. You find shade in the afternoon and take it in turns sitting with the bags to get out of the heat while the girls barely stop for more suncream and water. By the time you all pile back into the train home, they're exhausted and you're not much more awake. The return journey is quieter so you get a table with 4 seats. The girls squeeze into one and fall asleep almost instantly. Sara curls into Phoebe and watches out the window. She smiles across at you,

"Such a fucking great idea." She repeats your comment from earlier.

"We're stopping over next time," you laugh quietly so you don't wake the kids, "I'm knackered!" She agrees and lets her eyes close. You do the same thing, your head coming to rest on Roy's shoulder. As you get back into the city, he brushes the hair from your eyes,

"Time to wake up, nearly home." Your initial reaction is to push your face further into him, but this only makes him laugh. "Come on, and you," he kicks Sara under the table. No one is happy to be woken up. You drag yourselves to the underground, into a train back to Richmond and finally into Roy's car. It's not even that late - but it's been a long day. He drops Phoebe and Sara off first and then makes his way to yours. Living between the two has been a big bonus in terms of how much they've helped out with Lexie. She's asleep in the car, so he picks her up and carries her up the path. Once you've unlocked the house, he puts her on the sofa while you dump the overflowing bags in the hallway - forgotten hats and stuffed toys from the arcade spilling out.

"Beer?" You whisper from the doorway, and he nods. You drink them standing side by side in the kitchen. You can't wait for a shower, your skin feels sticky with suncream, sea water, and the ice cream and sweets you've been eating all day. He pushes you gently with his arm,

"Today was fucking brilliant."

"It really was. You must have spent a fortune winning those toys for the girls."

"Worth it. Won one for you as well, don't forget."

"How could I? I've always wanted a neon pink rubber duck." You grin. "It can keep me company in the bath."

"You're fucking killing me." He mutters, shaking his head.

"What?"

"I've had to watch you in that swimsuit all fucking day and then you go and say shit like that?" He puts his empty bottle down and turns to stand in front of you, one hand either side of you on the kitchen counter. You're boxed in, but he's giving you enough space. You can tell he's giving you just enough time to say no, if that's what you want to do. You hold his gaze and don't say anything, the tiniest glance at his mouth is all the confirmation he needs to take the same step forward as he did a couple of weeks before. This time when his nose brushes against yours, it's less timid. He captures your mouth in a hot and fierce kiss. You turn your head just so, giving him better access and the hands that had stayed patiently on the counter were on you in half a second. One up in your hair and the other on your hip, your waist, the small of your back, bringing you as close as possible. Your hands move up his arms and around his neck, nails dragging through his hair. You've never been kissed like this before, never. It's so full of longing that it takes your breath away. His body presses against you, pushing you into the counter, his good knee between yours. Your head falls back so you can try to catch your breath but it's impossible when he moves to kiss a path down your neck. You can't help but moan as he nips at your sunburnt skin. You want more, so much more, but you know Lexie is only in the next room and the last thing you'd want is for her to wake up. The kiss has you in pieces already, it's intoxicating. He comes back to your mouth again for a slightly tamer kiss, "you taste like sunshine," he smiles. You open your eyes just to see it and it's beautiful. Both breathless, he takes the smallest step back. Somewhere in the hallway, your phone rings, bringing you both back to reality. You let it ring, reluctant to move away from his touch, eyes still only on each other, when Lexie brings the phone in with a big yawn.

"It's daddy." She says, handing it to you, and you see the defeat in Roy's eyes.

~~~~~

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent smut #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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Threadbare (2)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Two: Strain Curve (see previous or series)

IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.

Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?

Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066

You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.

“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”

In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.

“Of course, you did. How romantic.”

You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.

Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.

“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“

“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t.

Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”

“And I have three clients left…for the day.”

Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.

Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”

You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.

And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.

“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”

You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.

Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.

You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.

“So…working to live or living to work?”

You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.

“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.

In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.

Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.

You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.

Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.

You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”

Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“

“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”

“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.

“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”

Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.

“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…

“Something like that,” you shrug.

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend.

“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”

Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.

Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“

“No, you don’t.”

Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”

He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.

“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”

Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.

“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.

“Better make it look good then.”

Turns out you need tea and food.

You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.

“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.

“You wanted to leave me alone?”

He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.

He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.

You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?

“Those in your way? I can move them?”

Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”

You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.

“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.

“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”

“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…

“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”

You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.

Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.

All in all, it’s going well.

One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.

“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”

You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”

Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.

Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.

Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.

It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.

Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.

After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.

“Stuck,” you mutter.

His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”

“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.

Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.

On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.

“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.

“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.

Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”

Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.

The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit.

You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.

Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.

He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.

It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.

Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.

There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.

While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.

He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.

They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.

“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”

You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.

“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.

How horrible…

“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”

“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”

You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”

“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.

“And the buttons?” you prod.

He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.

Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.

Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.

Emergency.

He has to go.

You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.

Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.

An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.

Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.

You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.

He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.

Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’

It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.

Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.

Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.

You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.

He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.

“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”

Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.

But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.

So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia

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[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #fashion designer!reader #threadbare #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff

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sugar-omi · 9 months

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okay, so i've been doing some thinking. i've been scrolling through your blog and i stepped upon these "cheating on cove with Baxter and the other way around" scenarios. (i'm sorry, i wasn't able to read them, my heart couldn't take it ;-;) but!

what if mc was like, in a normal relationship with Baxter. you know, a couple, maybe married later and stuff, while of course still being besties with Cove. later mc and Baxter have a kid together, maybe still a small baby but! plot twist! Baxter gets into an accident or something and dies. (i'm sorry, he's my favourite man but i had to kill him for that scenario:'))

mc is completely devastated and also a little panicked, because what about the baby? and then Cove stepps in, deciding to help his best friend take care of the little one and basically becomes its father. i recently watched a video of a dog "helping" a cat take care of her kittens, and there you have it.

this one may be boring, so feel free to ignore, but i can't stop thinking about it.

ITS OK<333 I figured some ppl didn't read it bc angst n pain</3 trust me I skip over angst all the time

(I even have the tag blocked😬 sorry angst writers but I will read it and not be the same for months, I read a kiribaku angst fic years ago, and was devesated for 4 months afterwards LMAO)

okay i... I cannot expand too much on this bc OUCH

(eta now that I've finished. who am I fooling? I rlly said that like I haven't wrote a whole novel 💀 anyway <3 this clearly made me pop off more than I thought I would bc I read this at first n was devastated!!! I had no words!!!! well clearly I found them LOL)

ALSO BORING??? ANON PLEASE.. BORING WHERE<///3

n im gonna fix the format later but for now here is the bare minimum. I'm going to bed rn so nini everyone enjoy a bit of angst I promise its fluffy as well<333

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

p/n = parental name, since I wanted to leave flexibility for all the readers here <3

but anyway yeah cove would so step up for you

will follow you to the end of the earth and do whatever you need to help you work through this and to adapt to this sudden and unfortunate change

if/when your relationship starts becoming something romantic, cove would absolutely put the brakes on everything and you'd go so slow...

I imagine he'd probably move in with you or you with him, and he'd stay somewhere else (if you're living in his house he will leave anyway, he's a gentleman like that fr) so that way you can figure out if it's not just bc he's doing all these things n you're mistaking admiration for love

you'd spend the first year going super slow, as if you've never known each other before

which technically you haven't, since you've never dated before. but cove would go so far as to find out your favorite color, song, animal, food.. all over again, even though he has it memorized and knows your likes better than his own.

once cove is sure you're ready for this (after much talk between the two of you and even with your therapist that yes you've made enough progress and are emotionally ready for this) does he finally put a label on it

now if you get married...

I imagine cove won't propose at all

like I think you'd have to talk n almost beg him...

in that case he would do a small but grande gesture to propose. or he'd propose to you before you've even left the bed for the day... no inbetween

but like 8 times outta 10, you're gonna have to propose to him

he'd cry and hug you n say yes of course.

and unless you want to keep this outta your wedding, I think cove would include baxter in your wedding.

first, ofc you'd have the picture to honor his memory

but I think he'd even go so far as to have smth in his vows. but to start, he'd say smth like:

"I know the reason we became closer was unfortunate, but I'm so happy to be able to call you and [Child] my family. and I hope I can be a good father and husband"

and "baxter will always have a place in our hearts. even though he and I didn't get along at first (watery chuckle)... I'm glad he got to love you, and I hope he trusts me to love and cherish you the same way as well.."

also if you don't want to give up your wedding ring from baxter, I think cove would even go so far as to suggest combining it with his.

!!! omg I was gonna say your and baxter's wedding bands would be black, but I have another idea

okay now, for YOUR bands, I imagine they're either black or silver and yk those infinity(?) bands? that has the 2 types of metal or whatever

that's what cove would suggest doing. and if you are worried abt people asking why your bands are different, he'd get the same twisted band but silver with say a black diamond or smth. just smth to make it look like it's intentionally different colors but same design or smth

(im overthinking a bit but it's an idea right?! I'm not crazy??<////3)

or if you don't wanna do that, I imagine you can just slip it on a necklace or leave it as is, whatever you want. he wouldn't mind even if you kept wearing it, cove would never ask you to get rid of baxter's image or memory in any way, not unless it was a real problem and your attachment to him/his things was unhealthy anyway.

now for baxter's band... well if you didn't bury it with him, I imagine you'd give it to your child

another thing I think you could do w your wedding band as well, and give them both your bands to do whatever they want with. or if they don't want it of course you're not forcing them to keep it

even though they didn't get to know baxter, the way you and cove still cherish baxter's memory does help them feel something of a connection.

I also imagine baxter would take lots of photo n video w the kid, even though they're young n just a babe, theres so many videos of baxter looking n acting so loving w them

and even a couple where he's teary-eyed n all "imma do you right by you. I love you so much.."

of course, if the kid doesn't feel that connected to baxter since they were too young to know or rmbr anything, and they don't feel anything much other than sympathy and the occasional sting when they see how much baxter loved them, you don't force it.

you both know that baxter was basically a stranger to them and even though they still respect baxter and he has a place in their heart, they don't feel like they're lacking anything.

"I don't really know what to say.. or how to feel... I see how much [P/N] misses you sometimes, and we have pictures of you, and they talk about you and stuff...

but I don't feel like im missing a dad. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, I wish I knew you too. sometimes I wish you were still here, so I got to know you as well, even though I'm still happy to have dad cove for my dad.

I just wanna know what you were like. I wanna experience what you were like. I... I wanna miss you like everyone else misses you too...

anyway, just know that dad is great! he takes care of me and [P/N] really well! he makes breakfast in bed, and he does/used to do this thing where he lifts me in the air before bed! he's so cool. I see how he makes [P/N] happy as well, so don't worry. although, [P/N] said you always thought cove was reliable and a good guy so maybe you aren't worrying anyway.

well... that's it I guess. i hope ill get to know you one day, and maybe you can tell me you're glad to see dad took good care of us. goodbye,

baxter."

pa."

cove happily listens to anything they have to say on how they feel abt baxter btw. he accepts any of their feelings, be it that they don't feel anything at all, sympathy for others, or they feel sad abt losing him.

if they do say smth like how even though it's unfortunate and they feel bad for everyone who mourns baxter (for example/especially you), they see cove as their dad and don't feel like they're missing anything and they're happy to have cove for their dad.

ofc he cries n hugs them n tells them he loves em and he's happy n he comforts them if needed of course

I also think cove is very scared abt being a father

especially in this way... even if the kiddo doesn't remember anything, or it's hazy at best, he worries about replacing baxter.

he'd probably worry abt not living up to baxter

baxter was always much more mature, at least it seemed that way most times. cove just worries about if he has the backbone and the ability to parent the child well and be someone they can look up to and/or appreciate for being a good father

cries if they call him dad btw

if they do it before you start dating, I imagine it's one of the catalyst that cause you to talk abt your feelings for each other. or if it's in the early stage..

cove prbly freezes and runs away to the other room n freaks out, definitely cries. if you don't talk to him like right after he calls his dad n cries n shares his worries n fear

either way, when you do talk he's biting his nails n trying not to pace around the room and he's like "if you wanna distance yourselves so that they don't call me dad any more I totally understand, I mean idk it's prbly weird for you-"

n he just rambles. like none of it makes sense n u have to physically shut him up. kiss him, yell, throw a pillow, hit him w the child's stuffed animal, throw a single lego brick at his back and watch him fall to the floor like he just got a nuke thrown at him

if it's later on n theres nothing to worry abt bc youve talked abt this or saw it coming or its just the otherwise most natural step, he cries of course

but he doesn't fall apart from being his in the back w a single fucking Lego as if it hurt 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (I hate this man he's DRAMATIC)

well... actually no he does

hit him, kiss him, hug him, run him over w a hotel wheels truck.... he just cries harder

adopts them like immediately basically

I imagine you do it soon, like maybe before the wedding just so that way you can have a private moment (just to save him some embarrassment from ugly crying in front of your families. in fact he just might faint fr)

n you + the kiddo surprise him w adoption papers (depending on how old the babe is at this point, they have like no idea what's going on but they know that cove is now officially recognized by the whole world (even by the unicorns n wizards n warlocks) as their daddy))

imagine laying in bed w cove n the kid in between you two

and when you wake up, cove is alrdy awake and was watching you two. he was petting the kids wild hair and he had pulled the two of you in and kept you under his arm..

and the sunlight is coming in, the day is just perfect. n the look on cove's face is full of so much love but also a bit somber this time

(cove feels awkward being here like this sometimes. during times like this you have to remind him it's okay, and you pull him back in. of course he does the same for you on those days.)

"I love you two. so much..." he whispers, tears sticking to his lashes

the kid flips over, curling into cove and they stop their sleepy mumbling now that they're tucked into cove's chest, feeling warm, happy, and safe.

you whisper equally as tender. "we were meant to be like this too."

also!! smth I just thought of...

imagine the kid looks mostly/very much like baxter. they act very much like cove's kid

like you would think cove n baxter had a kid together LOL

(if the resemblance is too much, they ask if you're the step parent </3 pls Ik it may not make sm sense but I just think it'd be so fuckin funny)

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #baxter ward #baxter ward x reader #angst #baxter ward angst #cove holden angst #angst with a happy ending

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slightlyaggressiveaffirmations · 1 year

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Hey I'm having a really hard time getting out of a funk. I haven't put laundry away in weeks, and all my friends are going through things too so I can't unload on them. Not to mention my bff has a baby and now it feels like she has no time for me. I could use some positivity, thank you.

I know those feelings, frond. I had a nine-day period just recently that we all referred to as "Bed-Fest '23", cos I didn't get up or dressed or whatever.

First things first - it's OK to be in a funk. Sometimes we have one. It's totally normal. If you do absolutely nothing else, please remember to take any medication that you have - including anything for depression or other mental illness. Even if you can't shower or even eat - take your meds.

Second, prioritise those tasks that are most important and focus the energy you have on making sure that those get done. After medication, my list goes like this: dog's needs met, food/drink, safe environment, shower, tooth brush, washing clothes, clean environment.

By "safe environment" I mean keeping my kitchen clean and cleaning up after myself so food waste and such is not left lying around, which might attract mice, cockroaches, ants, mould and so on. Making sure my house isn't a health hazard, basically. Whereas "clean environment" is putting things away where they belong, like with your laundry. I also work from my bed outwards with a clean environment - if I'm spending all my time in bed, that immediate area gets cleaned first.

As for getting out of the funk - focusing on getting as much of the self care list done as you can - but not scolding yourself and engaging in negative talk when you do not, is how we start. Go to work, or school or whatever you gotta do, and then use what energy you can bear to do what you can. Then give yourself permission to just be. Do what will give you peace. Video games, reading, Netflix, extra sleep. Treat yourself and have no guilt or shame about it. This is what you NEED right now.

When you've recovered some energy by not forcing yourself to do too much, get creative. I write poetry and I draw in abstract colours. I put my emotions onto the page - whenever I'm in a depression or slump, there's a reason for it. There's emotions behind it and if you have an outlet to let those emotions out and into the world, they will start to seep out of you and ease you out of the funk. Your feelings are stuck inside you and need somewhere to go.

Get back into the swing of life slowly and as you feel up to it. Even if you don't have any friends available, it's good to talk to someone about the progress you're making - so you could even just blog about it on Tumblr. I just report in to my partner and mother. "Today I got two loads of washing done, and then I didn't really do much else, I just read a bunch of fanfic, but I left comments on it all, which is active instead of passive."

I hope that at least some of this advice is helpful. I never know if I have any advice in me until someone asks me a question. The life of an Accidental Agony Aunt.

The Slightly Aggressive Affirmer

#slightly aggressive advice #mental health saas

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cats-and-confusion · 7 months

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Ok I'm not sure how much of this makes sense/is canon but I need to put it somewhere.

The significance of fruits in Lego Monkey King's culture, featuring my headcanons.

First let's start with facts and/or fandom established hcs. Peaches = Wukong, Plums = Macaque. Wukong lives on Flower Fruit Mountain. He calls everyone 'bud', especially MK.

Ok.

Here we go.

"Bud" feels like it’s referring to a flower bud, which grows into a fruit. Everyone that doesn't have an associated fruit is "bud" because they haven't grown their fruit or flower yet, hence why Macaque is "plums" instead of "bud" to Wukong, and vice versa with peaches.

Now! I feel like the nickname will progress and change judging on a person's growth/relationship with Wukong and whether or not they have a chosen fruit.

Progression line goes "bud -> bloomer -> [fruit]" imo

I feel like as of seasons, like, 4 and 5, MK would be in "bloomer" territory, yknow?

I also feel like most people don’t know about the whole fruit nickname progression line outside of like, wukong's monkeys and macaque, which is why even close friends like DBK are still "bud".

There's more to this, I can feel it, but it’s not coming to me rn

#lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lmk hc #lmk hcs #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid hc

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beeseverywhen · 2 months

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pikmin vs pikmin 4- my thoughts on some of the changes

so i've been replaying pikmin this week after playing a lot of pikmin 4 and i had some thoguhts over the differences. i actually meant to make this post yesterday and i've now forgotten a lot of what i had to say whoops but i'll give it a shot.

so first of all. difficulty. it's a lot harder to get pikmin killed in pikmin 4. in some ways i found this a bit disappointing but playing pikmin again really put things in context lol. you can kill them so easily in the original! personally i think for me the ideal level of difficulty would be somewhere in between. the struggle to keep my pikmin alive in the first game was pretty formative for me lol. i think taking out that struggle for survival and risk of huge battle losses does lose something. i've always seen something of a commentary in pikmin that im not sure is in the newer games thanks to it being easier to keep your pikmin alive. HOWEVER i'm actually all about making games more accessible especially for kids. when games are really hard a lot of ppl just cant complete them/cant get in to them. i think what i would like to have seen from pikmin 4 was the option of different difficulty levels tbh. that way as a pikmin veteran you could pick a harder level, upskilling the monsters, while the original difficulty is still an option.

on the other hand, there are some ways that pikmin die in the first one that i'm SO glad they fixed. first of all-drowning. drowning is so annoying in the first game.m it's really really hard to get the pikmin out of the water to start with. and they drown for so long. theres a point where they are beyond saving but they keep on screaming for ages anyway. it makes me sad lol.

second. getting stuck around walls. oh my god. its so easy to lose pikmin as youre walking around. and when you call your whistle you need to show them how to actually get back to you? if you dont they dont make their way back to you. im so glad they fixed this because it was incredibly annoying tbh. theres actually a second part to this that i didnt think i liked until i replayed the original. so with nectar, you have to actually throw your pikmin at the nectar most of the time in pikmin 4. im used to just being able to walk through it with my crowd of pikmin but this didnt work so well in 4. i didnt realise till my replay of pikmin that this is actually a good thing. in pikmin you lose pikmin walking with you because they get distracted by the nectar. if youre not careful they'll fall behind and end up lost at the end of the day.

the pikmins freewill. they really do do what they want in the original. its so hard to keep them alive because they'll just start carrying things mid battle. they attack everything. they are hugely distracted by nectar. they'll wander off and start attacking pellet flowers. while to a degree they still do this in 4, its way way easier to keep a handle on it. i actually like the idea that in game this has happened because the pikmin have more experience of hanging out with olimar and being directed and have passed that knowledge on.

the whistle. ok i love the whistle upgrades. just being able to call all the pikmin back to home at the end of the day is so good. i do think its a little overpowered because pikmin are generally safer in pikmin 4? but if we had this option in the origial it would be so great. im thinking something that gets added in late game. theres still a chance theyll get distracted/attacked/drown on their way back to you but you can at least TRY to call them back. i also love the whistle that calls pikmin back to you.

enemies staying dead- i'm mixed about this. i think that i'd like them to stay dead for a few days but then when you leave the area/after you progress in the game they get replaced with harder enemies?

time rewind- i'm mixed on this. i think its a bit overpowered. it might be good if it only comes in to play during a boss fight?

the dog. look. i didnt want a dog. i was not down with oatchi to begin with. after playing pikmin 4…yeah i do kind of like it. i think i'd prefer him not to be a dog. it added another level to the universe that was never really explained and i felt like it was motivated by a 'dogs are cute' fanservice kinda thing. not really my cup of tea. one of the things i really love about pikmin is it takes cute animals and makes them terrifying. oh a little ladybird? what if it was huge and bloodthirsty. i ended up reallly liking the extra level oatchi added to puzzles. i liked that you had to do some bits with him and the other with your player, i just would have liked something that felt more fitting with the world. a tame dwarf bulborb would be hilarious tbh.

go here- when i was playing pikmin 4 i was mixed about this. i kinda thought it took some of the challenge away and didnt use it at first but then i kinda changed my mind. like the whistle, i think it becomes overpowered because theres no danger involved. you can clear out the monsters first and you know nothing is gonna happen while youre on autopilot. after playing pikmin i think i'd actually really like a go here option, i think it just needs to be balanced out by there being a bit more risk involved in using it. personally ive found myself getting really frustrated playing the original because i get lost a lot. this is in part because i generally struggle with using maps particularly in older games where you cant see what is and isnt passable as well (this is more of a personal thing as i have a condition that affects my ability to orientate/use maps efficiently tbh)

advancements/design changes- so modern tech has obviously allowed for some major improvements in how things look. going from new camera controls back to gamecube ones was…disappointing to say the least lol. i love that its easier to see what you are doing on these newer games. i love that its easier to target and actually throw the pikmin where you want them to go. its generally easier to move around and things are less clunky. i do think that a bit of the magic gets lost in some of the design changes tbh. i understand why theyve been made. the original developers probably wanted them there to start with but were restricted by the technology of the time (god. it really has been 2 decades. madness. i've been playing with these little guys for over 20 years lol).

i really liked the white hole-ey walls in the original, bring them back! i also actually liked that there were so many walls and a lot of things were more closed off. that typical pikmin feeling of 'i've got the treasure from the boss but now i cant bloody get it back' was missing a bit. i know that this is because modern games go more for that open world approach (even tho pikmin isnt) but i think it just makes sense in the story for things to be more closed off. i think bags and box ramps seem to have replaced the plentyful walls and… i would like more walls.

i also love the woven bridges where it breaks down over time and you need to get the pikmin to make it again. i just think they look cool.

i also like the little piles of bombs you can find and i like that you've got to have the yellow pikmin carry them around for you. what do you mean im just putting bombs in my pocket??! maybe there could be a function where in later game you could earn some kind of upgrade where you CAN store bombs. some kind of bomb proof container. but i still think the yellow pikmin should be in charge of bombs. they are the demolition experts.

i would like more use of climbing sticks too.

i liked that the landing spaces were kind of ringfenced off in the original. every landing space is its own little area, usually set in a depression in the land if not a little raised bit. i like that. tbh i dont really have an opinion on there being multiple homebases in 4. i know some ppl love it. im pretty neutral on it tbh. i would like the homebases to be set in some kind of depression/ have landscaping to set them aside tho. i just like the feel of it better. my pikmin feel safer lol. considering how dangerous the world is im not sure it makes sense for us to all be chill with landing out in the open like that and leaving our ship and the onion to it.

another thing that to me is huge but i do kinda get why they changed it and i think most ppl probably dont agree with me here… i miss there being seperate onions! i get why, i do. ppl probably didnt like that you couldnt get all your pikmin in one go and had to go to seperate onions. personally i loved that. i loved seeing the onions i'd collected in the landing area and i loved seeing them all fly off together at the end of the day. i loved that the landing areas were designed around the number of onions you'd have at the end of the game so that until then you'd be looking at that space like. i wonder whats going to go there. when will i find my last onion. what will it be like. i also love when the onion springs out of the ground all colourful when you find it. maybe they could be buried but when the pikmin uncovers it THEN it springs up?? i want that back. i do get that it would be annoying to have to get pikmin from each onion when there are loads of them and some ppl dont like that. i think this could be solved by you being able to access the all pikmin screen from your ship. then when you select the pikmin the ship alerts the onions and the pikmin come running out of the onions.

the centre spot for the ship and the 3 spots for red yellow and blue would be stylistic like in the original pikmin and would be there from the start even before you find the onions.

then the 6 surrounding spots would be less obvious, to the point that you dont really notice them until you find the first unusual onion. i know youre probably thinking: hold on a second 6? yeah i would give the glow pikmin a onion. maybe it only shows up at night or maybe it is there in the day but its colour is dull showing it's not avaliable.

while we're on the topic of the onions, i also prefer their original design. i'd love to see them looking the same, only more vibrant and in better definition. i particularly like the patterns round the bottom edge, the legs, and also the flowers on these ones.

edit: oh i totally forgot. the other design change im in two minds about is the sun meter. i think it looks better in the original.

also. i love that its easier to switch what colour pikmin you are holding and that charging is way easier.

im pretty neutral on the restricition of pikmin in the field. maybe i'd prefer it if you could upgrade that faster/if it had a higher starting point??? not sure yet i'll have to think. i dont like that there are more farlics avaliable even once youve reached 100 and the number of pikmin cant increase.

#pikmin 4 #pikmin

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rotating-hyperfixations · 2 months

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Not to bring up politics on my fandom blog, but I gotta let out somewhere so I’m yelling into the void on tumblr so bear with me.

I truly think the U.S needs to go back to teaching civics in schools at a higher level then they currently are; because the amount of people who seemingly can’t grasp how elections and general politics run is astounding. Like, I totally get being frustrated with the state of American politics and the amount of corruption and private equity in what’s supposed be a public entity, but yall are really starting to test my patience when it comes to election season. Because yall are being dumb with this whole “don’t vote for Biden”/vote third period campaign you’re trying to put out there.

Unfortunately America is a two party system and a lot of people fall somewhere within the political spectrum. And generally throughout history, even if you didn’t agree with a candidate you vote for the one that more aligns with your values in the hopes that you can get them to change their opinion on important matters through congress and the senate (aka state reps). However in the last three election cycles a lot of people have become one policy voters (meaning one issue makes or breaks who they’ll vote for) and now we’re on the brink of rolling back a centuries worth of progress because a bunch of far right christofacists were able to come into power by people not voting. And rather then recognize that we are legitimately headed down a very dangerous path if Trump gets elected for a second term; people have just decided to not vote or mobilize a third party candidate. Both of which unfortunately just leads to a Trump victory because republicans are far more likely to vote as a party than democrats.

While think that at some point a real effort has to be made to try and get some more younger and progressive politicians in power, the year on election is not the time to start. and that is simply because America at this point it not capable of coming to together to recognize anyone who is not a democrat or a republican and it’s not a change you can implement at the national level immediately. For these changes to occur people need to start showing up at non Presidential elections and voting progressive and third party candidates locally, so it gets on the radar and they start to take it seriously and adopt that ideology within their own parties. However, yelling on the internet that you’re not going to vote with seemingly no alternative plan isn’t going to do anything. Not to mention no politician is ever going to cater to every base within a party, it’s simply not feasible. I’m sure that there are moderates who disagree with certain aspects of Bidens politics, but they understand that Biden is a far better alternative to Trump.

And ultimately that’s what all of this boils down to, the Trump of it all. If Biden was facing back Republicans of old like Mitt Romney or John McCain, I’d say sure not voting and making a statement on the democrats not accurately representing your beliefs will make you not vote for them would be ok. Unfortunately a second term of Trump is going to have far more reaching implications than I think people realize, and don’t realize how serious it is. Out side of the fact that Trump has basically already demonstrated that if he can, he won’t peacefully transfer power to whoever succeeds him. But he will roll back a ton of civil liberties and probably do irreparable damage to certain parts of the country and branches of government. Like do you really want to get an even more conservative Supreme Court or for things like abortion bans to become national law. And I know that people think that’s fear mongering or that they don’t care about the damage it does to their community, which is fine and all I suppose. But there are a ton of kids who are powerless in this matter who don’t get a say, who may not feel the same way and saying “you don’t care” even as a minority group is still an insanely privilege take and a very short term thinking.

And finally, if you’re not voting for Biden because of his handling of the Hamas Israel war, allowing Trump into office is not going to help anyone over there. Because Trump and republicans have already stated that they are pretty much on the side of Israel and are going to probably aid them even in more in bombing the shit out of Gaza. So if that’s the hill your will to die on, don’t dilute yourself into thinking that not voting for Biden will do anything to help anyone or desecrate the situation because Trump will make it far worse and then America will be complicit and all the activism in the world won’t help.

#us politics #2024 elections #president biden #donald trump #please don’t be dumb and let a fucking idiot fascist rise to power #also stop getting your news from TikTok and Twitter #I promise 95% of those people either don’t know what they are talking about or are misinformed themselves #israel hamas conflict #israel hamas war #let’s be rational about politics and how this country works #I beg of you

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