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luveline · 11 months

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Jadeee! I had a thought reading the last zombie au story, with r taking a bath in the cold water and she was super chilly maybe she gets a tad sick (maybe just some sniffles or a stuffy nose) and Robin and Steve kind of go overboard to take care of her? (And cuddles with Robin's new cat!!)

thank you for your request angel, hope this is ok. steve zombie au —steve and robin take look after you when you get sick. fem!reader, 2k

There are better places to feel shitty. You're the kind of sick that could get dangerous —hypothermia, maybe pneumonia, you got too cold after a cold wash in the river outside of camp and didn't warm up the right way— and it would be a thousand times easier in a building with central heating. But at least you're not in a tarp anymore.

You, Steve and Robin share a real tent. It zippers closed and doesn't have any mesh, so heat brought inside of it doesn't ebb away immediately, like it had in the poorly constructed tarp tent. You pull your second blanket over your body and try to seem casually tired rather than sickbed exhausted as their footsteps return.

"Hey, killer," Robin says as soon as she sees you, ducking under the tent's opening, a box in her hands. "You're finally awake. Since when do you sleep in?"

"I'm tired from the girl's trip."

"That was nearly a week ago," Robin says.

"And yet you're still reaping the benefits," Steve says to her dryly as he follows her inside of the tent. He gets on his knees and crawls to your side. "Hello," he says, kissing your cheek. "Good morning."

"Hey."

He frowns at you. "Why do you sound like that?"

"What? I just woke up," you say.

Steve clearly doesn't believe you, and he's right not to. Sick of being a burden on him, you've stopped telling him about your aches and pains, your injuries, your worries. He absolutely hates it but no amount of begging has changed your mind. You're not interested in being his weight to carry. Love, sure, but there's no reason he should be so intrinsically responsible for your wellbeing. Or at least that's how you feel right now.

"Sarah's given Robin a present," he says, his eyes narrowed at you. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What did you get, Robs?"

Robin slides the lid off of the box eagerly to show you the contents. "It's a baby grow, only Sarah's cut off the arms and legs and sewed the hems. I'm going to put it on Stinkyboy."

"I thought his name was Shark?" you ask.

"Or something as stupendously stupid," Steve mutters. He smells like woodsmoke. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look okay." He rubs under your eye with his thumb. "You're all puffy."

"I don't think you can speak to her like that, Steve," Robin says.

Her deadpan delivery makes you laugh, and it's a perfect segue to new conversation and away from your unokay-ness. "Are you and Sarah, like… you know?"

Robin looks at you for a second. "Like what?"

"Romantic?" you whisper.

"Oh, no. She's my new Steve, I'm replacing him."

"Can't you replace him with me?" you ask.

Steve puts his hand on your forehead. "You're warm. You're warm, shithead, are you sick?"

"No?" You frown as his hand moves to the back of your neck. You're not warm there, you're a furnace.

"You're actually sick?" he asks, frowning down at you. "What, were you just not gonna say anything?"

"It's not that bad," you mumble.

Robin and Steve make simultaneous sounds of disbelief. "You really weren't gonna say anything?" Robin asks.

They talk so quickly.

"I don't know for sure if I'm sick, and neither do you guys, don't worry so much." You sit up to get away from Steve's overly cautious hands, black spots behind your eyes and a shooting pain at the back of your head. "Ew," you say, bringing your hand to your eyes, "Maybe I'm sick."

Steve puts his arm behind your shoulders. "Dummy," he says, rubbing your arm.

"What he said." Robin stands up. "I'm gonna go track down some breakfast for little miss secretive. I'll be back. Don't let her die."

"I'll try not to," Steve says.

When Robin's gone, Steve gets nicer. Which isn't to say he's mean when she's around, of course he isn't, but he's polite enough to spare her the full reality of his affection for you, and maybe slightly shy about it. He gathers you into his chest and rubs his cheek against your crown. "You're so warm, honey. I'm not fucking around, you have to tell me when you're not okay."

"You can't do anything about it, Steve, just a flu."

"Where would you have caught the flu?"

"I mean, I must've got it from the cold. It's a cold, that's all it is."

"You sure?" he asks, his hand snaking under your shirt. He takes an unabashed handful of your stomach. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Steve."

It isn't without fondness, but it's said to be simple and straight. Steve tends to catastrophize —why wouldn't he? You can't be cut, you have to be bleeding out. You can't trip, you always fall flat on your face. You have the worst luck in the entire world (or, almost, getting bit would plant you firmly in the worst luck category). And Steve's the one who pays for it, every single time.

So you assure him as best as you can and describe your symptoms honestly. "My head hurts, and I feel like I'm on fire. My hands and my legs are really hot, but I don't feel sick. It's not food poisoning, and it probably isn't, like, influenza."

"I guessed that much."

"Oh, did you?" you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him back, and better. Steve gives the best hugs for you, but you know everything that he likes down to the placement of your pinky finger. You do your own skin-searching and slide your hands under his shirt, one palm roving over each bump of his spine to the midway point. His skin is smooth as velvet under your touch here, and noticeably colder. "Stevie," you say, still murmuring as you drag your fingertips down to the base of his back, "I love you. Don't worry, okay? I caught a chill from the river."

"I do worry," he murmurs back, nuzzling your temple with his scratchy cheek.

"I know, baby."

"It's hard to be the one in charge when you speak to me like that," he says.

"Who says you're in charge?"

You snuggle like fools until Robin insists you eat your breakfast outside in the cold, which you abhor but your feverish skin appreciates. Steve sits on one side of you and Robin on the other.

You know Robin likes you, but you think she must really love you, she's so worried. She doesn't say it, but she keeps glancing your way with a pinch between her eyebrows, and she asks you twice if your breakfast, a lukewarm soup she procured from the campfire, is hot enough. You lie each time, 'cos cold soup stopped bothering you a long time ago, and she's a sweetheart for caring.

Steve suggests a group reading, as in, he grabs a book and usually you'd read, but you're sick, and they both tell you it isn't your turn. Steve reads, practised by now, more confident with each page. He even tries to follow the dialogue tags, whispering and sighing when instructed.

You start to nod off. There are things you should all be doing, but none of you move. You can't report for washing duty, you can barely stand, and Steve refuses to go without you. Robin's supposed to take baby Ada for two hours. When Robin doesn't show up, one of the other members of the camp appears and makes her take her anyway.

"You should strike," you say, woozy on Steve's arm. Your fever is getting worse. The cold breeze helps some, but eventually Steve's gonna have to dunk you in the river.

"I should." She hugs the baby on her chest. "I don't even really like babies. Like, I'd die for her, but kids aren't my thing. At least, they weren't."

"She's quiet," Steve says.��

"Why don't you hold her, Stevie?" you ask. He loves kids.

"I'm busy with my own baby."

You can't decide if it's funny or romantic. You fall asleep against his side and wake a few times throughout the evening, your face in his lap, his hand protective in your hair or against your ear. He wakes you at dusk, kissing a stripe down your cheek.

"Sorry," he says softly by your ear, "but I can't carry you."

"You would if you loved me," you tease, your eyes sticky and hard-pressed to open.

Steve helps you stand and takes more of your weight than necessary as you walk back to your tent. Robin's already inside sans baby Ada, and she has a surprise for you.

"Tada!" she says. "It's a pillow."

You rub your eyes with your fist. "Aw," you mumble, disoriented, "yis."

Steve laughs like you're the cutest thing on earth, and he helps you sit down. You're horrified that you actually need him to, almost slipping and smashing your head on the packed dirt ground as your leg buckles under your weight. Now that would've made you sick.

One fool on your left and another on the right, you rest your aching head on Robin's miraculous pillow and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Where did you get this?" you ask.

Robin taps the side of her nose. "Not saying."

You huff at being out of the know but are ultimately too tired to pioneer for your right to know —you nod off a minute later, and vaguely recollect the sound of the tent zipper.

Much later, you wake to whispers.

"He has fleas, Robin," Steve says.

A weight lands on your legs. "He doesn't anymore! And fleas don't live on people."

"But they bite. And they have diseases! Stinkyboy can't stay in here."

"Stinkyboy has just as much right to shelter as you do."

"No, he doesn't. Not if he's going to give bubonic plague to the love of my life."

You try to wake up properly. All you manage is a weak sound and a leg twitch. There's a sharp and sudden silence, disrupted only by a thwacking of skin on skin.

"Did you just hit me?" Robin whispers furiously.

"No! You tried to hit me, I was defending myself!"

"You're so done. I'm taking Stinkyboy and Y/N in the divorce."

"Idiot! Shut up, you'll wake her up. She needs to sleep to get better."

"You're the idiot, idiot. Isn't that right, Stinky? Isn't Uncle Steve just the worst?"

After a night of tossing and turning, you finally wake at daybreak. You're confused at first when you can't see Steve, until you realise he's pulled your head into his lap again, stroking the skin before your hairline. It tickles.

"I still feel awful," you say hoarsely.

"I don't think you'll recover after just one day," Steve whispers back. Robin sleeps beside you, a blanket wrapped bundle of cat at her feet.

"You let her let the cat in?" you ask.

"We actually argued about it at length." Steve's fingertips draw a heart over your temple. "She swears that flea ointment stuff worked, but I found a flea on my sock. I'm furious."

"You sound it."

"Don't worry. She has to de-flea everything, we made a contract."

"Well," you say. "It's a big tent."

It most certainly isn't. If Stinkyboy was as rife with fleas as he was when he first came along Steve would've put his foot down and so would’ve you rather than let him stay, but he only has a few stubborn ones hanging around, and Steve feels really sorry for the poor cat. Imagine how lonely he must have been, he'd said, and then coughed, like sympathy was something to be embarrassed of.

You feel very sorry for the cat, but you absolutely don't want fleas. You ask Steve to help you go down to the river so you can change your clothes and wash the ones you'd been wearing. You're still too sick to do a good job, but Steve sits half behind you and helps your aching arms scrub the fabric against the makeshift washer (corrugated metal from a shed roof).

Being sick isn't so bad when you have that much love at your back, metaphorically and physically. You lean all of your weight on him and sigh.

"Love you," you say.

"Love you," he says back. He holds your wet hands in his. "Now let's go and warm you back up, loser. You're just dying to get hypothermia."

"It's in season."

"Funny."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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talesofadragon · 10 months

Text

𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.3K

Chapter 2 - Morally Gray | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 god’s hell on earth.

Back in college, Y/N had to take a mandatory liberal arts elective. And up to this day, she still doesn’t understand why it’s called that when she didn’t elect to take it. Her professor at the time had the stupendous idea to focus on Renaissance drama as if this was the single most enthralling subject for a bunch of twenty-year-olds.

While her memory retained nothing besides the fact that most of William Shakespeare's characters were speculated to be queer and The Spanish Tragedy seldom had an interesting plotline, she now recalled one particular quote she didn't know she remembered: "Hell's empty and all the devils are here."

Oh, William. Something true did come out of his mouth.

"You look like someone murdered your cat," Yelena remarked as soon as Y/N stepped into her line of sight. The closer Y/N got to Yelena, the more prominent the scowl on the blonde’s face became.

Y/N glared at her best friend, throwing her bag harshly onto the coffee table, followed by her drenched notebook and coffee tumbler. Yelena's green eyes fixated on the chaotic mess, only momentarily straying when Y/N completed the picture with a heavy thud as she unceremoniously took a seat.

“Coffee,” she managed to let out. Yelena extended one of the cups to her side, but Y/N swatted it away in favor of the taller one. “You take the small one. I’m in urgent need of a pick-me-up.”

Yelena arched her brow, pointing at the cup inches away from Y/N’s lips. “It’s a Nitro Cold Brew.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’ve never ordered it before.”

Y/N shrugged, taking her first sip. “I’m open to trying new things.”

“Do you know how many shots of espresso are in there?” Yelena’s tone was borderline incredulous. Y/N didn’t care.

“Maybe I need the kick.”

“It’s espresso, Y/N,” Yelena grumbled. She glanced at the discarded pumpkin-spice latte she had grabbed for her best friend, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of having to drink it herself. “It’s not tequila.”

A loud huff reverberated across the back of the coffee shop they were sitting in. It was ludicrous of Y/N to think that her day would get any better with a cup of coffee when that horrendous drink made her want to empty her stomach.

Begrudgingly, she slid the drink back to Yelena and snatched her own. “I’ve had a terrible day.”

“You don’t say.”

“Scratch that. A terrible week. And a half!”

“What happened this time?” Yelena carefully asked.

Inadvertently, Y/N’s brain decided it was more than adequate to remind her about the tragedies of the past week and a half. At first, it started alright. Great even. She didn't drink much when she went to Purgatory, so she woke up the next day without a single tingle in her head. Her day went about alright, and she even told Yelena—albeit briefly, given the hangover her best friend sported—about her interaction with Steve.

That day was pretty uneventful, and so was the next one. But then, it was as though the floodgates of hell had opened, and Lucifer had prophesied her as the Chosen One, destined to endure the ultimate suffering.

Between a car splashing her with mud and having her get to her meeting looking and smelling like Ron Weasley’s great aunt Tessie, someone leaving a dent on her precious car, and a teenager in a Spider-Man mask trying to rob her only to throw her back her money and take her favorite purse... let’s just say she didn’t want to take a trek down that particular memory lane.

“An old woman stole my umbrella.”

And as if her being drenched from head to toe didn’t suffice, Yelena had to spit her espresso-loaded coffee directly on her juniper green shirt. Thank God she wasn’t wearing white this time.

“I’m sorry, птичка,” Yelena enunciated in between chuckles. “I thought you said an old woman, who is supposed to be much less nimble than yourself, stole your umbrella.”

“Laugh all you want, Yelena. But that woman was like a fucking torpedo when I told her I could only help her cross the street because the coffee shop was on the opposite side of wherever she had to go!”

“Savage,” Yelena commented. Suddenly, and in a very uncharacteristic manner, she turned quiet. As Y/N sipped on her coffee, her eyes flicked up to catch her best friend’s pensive expression. She was tapping her fingers against the plastic coffee cup with her gaze idle on the rain.

“What’s wrong?”

There was silence at first, followed by a loud exhale. Then, after ten more seconds, Yelena placed her elbows on the table, shifting her body forward. “I have to tell you something.”

“Oh no!” Y/N vigorously shook her head. “Don’t make my week even worse. Please.”

Yelena's eyes held a rare empathy, a sight that Y/N seldom witnessed. It was evident that the forthcoming words were about to unveil something dreadful. Y/N just knew it.

“Baron Zemo, the Sokovian investor I told you about, called me today. He wants to talk about the Red Room.”

Y/N blinked twice. The despair she felt evaporated, replaced by a much more joyful sensation. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed, fully aware of the immense effort her best friend had put into creating the Red Room—a local dance studio that nurtured young girls' passion for dance.

But Yelena didn't seem too enthusiastic about the prospect. Her mouth twitched, transitioning from a scowl to a thin line. "He wants us to meet in person. The day after tomorrow," she revealed. She grabbed her coffee cup and took a rather long sip of her coffee—as if it served as her liquid courage. "He's in Romania."

“Romania!” Y/N hollered. Screw joy. She was confused as hell. Because while she wasn’t the most prodigious student in the world, nor did she have a modicum of aptitude in Geography, she did know that Romania was thousands of miles away. “Why didn’t you let me know before? And do not even attempt to tell me you didn’t have these plans before, and you just had them now!”

Yelena winced. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry, okay. My team has been in contact with him for months, and we’ve heard nothing. He called this morning and said he’d like to discuss the business along with expansion prospects. But he has an opening in three days or in seven months. That guy is an important investor. I couldn’t pass up on this opportunity.”

Well, when you put it that way, Y/N thought. As much as she wanted to yell and hurl her pumpkin-spice latte at the wall, she couldn’t help but be happy for Yelena. Yes, bad news were pelting her mercilessly, but that wasn’t the case for her best friend.

“At what time is your flight?” she asked in a steady voice.

Yelena smiled appreciatively. “Midnight.”

“I’ll drive you.” She rushed out of her seat, engulfing Yelena in a warm embrace. They held each other for a few seconds, but the touching moment soon melted when Y/N shifted to the right and felt something hit the floor with a thud. “Please tell me it’s not your drink.”

“It’s not.” Y/N’s shoulders eased. “It’s yours.”

A bad week and a half, she repeated in her head.

Luckily, Lucifer had decided to move on to the next unfortunate soul, leaving Y/N with two mundane days. Apart from her supervisor, Maria, grilling her about delivering the latest interior design schemes for the Odinson project, nothing exciting happened.

On the second day, Y/N drove Yelena to the airport and only departed after receiving a promise of a nice gift. She had dropped her off at nine in the evening and made it home around an hour later.

Having nothing better to do, she changed into her pajamas, made herself some popcorn, and decided to treat herself to an episode or two of FRIENDS. Her enthusiasm was unrelenting as she continued watching episode after episode, surpassing the four-episode mark.

Little did she know that her streak of luck was finite. Just as Yelena texted that the plane was taking off and the clock struck midnight, Y/N's fairy godmother played the cruelest joke on her—the power cut off.

“Oh, come on!” Y/N whined exasperatedly. She kicked her legs against her rug, throwing a tantrum like a child who’s been denied candy. After a steady string of curses, she fished out her phone and turned on her flashlight.

Since she was living in a house rather than an apartment, she peeked through her window to check if she was the only one facing a power outage. Most of the lights were off in the houses around them—it was midnight, after all. But the street lights were, in fact, on.

Once outside, she located the panel and opened it. The switches appeared to be in the “on” position, but she noticed that some of the wires looked worse for wear.

“Seriously, Lucifer. What do you want, you bastard? My soul in exchange for some peace!” Maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to say to the devil. Next thing she knew, the wires inside the electrical panel were cackling, and sparks began to fly. The sudden noise startled her, causing her to jump back in surprise. “That was a joke! Don’t they have those in hell?”

Capriciously, the energy within the panel flared up. Y/N decided it was best to stop talking.

Nervously, she started chewing on her nails. It was already midnight, with electricians available at this hour. In a situation like this, she would have called Yelena, but Yelena was already on a lengthy 8-hour flight to Sokovia. Seeking help from neighbors at this late hour wasn't a viable option either. And though she could consider sleeping in her car, the trembling in her fingers and her foggy breath reminded her of the biting cold.

Finding herself at a crossroads, Y/N pondered going inside and waiting for tomorrow to come. In the end, it’s not like her bad luck could possibly get any worse. But the crackling electricity was intensifying her anxiety and making it difficult to make a decision. Until she was suddenly reminded of something.

Don’t hesitate to give me a call. Even if it’s at four in the morning, the voice inside her head echoed.

Was it egotistic on her part to call Steve just because she needed help? Yes. Was it completely illogical to expect him to be awake at midnight? Uh-huh. Was she going to do it anyway? Absolutely. In fact, she was on the second ring now. And she just hoped Lucifer didn’t have any more tricks planned.

"Hello?" The first thing she noticed was the skepticism evident in the voice. The second realization was that it belonged to a woman.

Lucifer, Y/N called in her head. You can kill me now.

“Uhm, good evening.” Great. Now that the easy part was out of the way, she was left with one last dilemma. This woman could potentially be Steve's wife, and she's going to confuse Y/N for the mistress. Fun-fucking-tastic. “I’m sorry, but is this Steve Rogers’ number?”

“Who is asking?” the woman fired back.

Maybe it was time to end the call. “I’m Y/N. I, uh, kind of need some help.”

"I'll inform Mr. Rogers that you called," the woman replied. A flicker of hope ignited in Y/N's chest, only to be extinguished as quickly as a discarded cigarette crushed on the pavement when the woman abruptly hung up the phone, leaving her stunned and disheartened.

Y/N clutched her phone tightly against her chest. She stomped her foot on the ground, tears of frustration beginning to well up in her eyes. These two weeks had been horrible, and there wasn’t the slightest sign that it was going to get any better.

Y/N massaged her eyes with her thumb and index fingers, feeling the strain of the cold and the situation weighing upon her. As she started mentally searching for the correct placement of her flashlights and candles, her phone began to vibrate, her ringtone reverberating through the quiet and empty street.

Biting her cheek, Y/N fished it out. To her delight, it was Steve. She immediately pressed the accept button, anticipating to hear the woman from before. But a different voice greeted her instead.

“Steve?”

“Evening, Y/N.” His tone was placid and calm. Good, so Y/N hadn’t disturbed him with her unexpected call. “Everything alright?”

“I am so sorry to call you at this hour,” she hurriedly replied. Y/N barely took a breath before she continued, “I didn’t want to bother you so late, and I didn’t want to ask for a favor either. I know this makes me sound so selfish, but believe me, Steve. I had the most horrendous two weeks of my life, which is why I never texted you—”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Y/N. I didn’t give you my number with any expectation that you might call or text me. It’s okay. And I don't think that you're selfish. You've obviously taken your time before calling me, so what's the issue? You're not in trouble, are you?"

He’s so sweet, Y/N thought. She hadn’t even realized she was smiling at his words until she had to clear her throat.

“Something’s wrong with the power at my house. My best friend is out of the country and most of my neighbors are sleeping. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it and wait till tomorrow, but my electrical panel is acting out. So, I don’t know what to do.”

“You send me your location and wait for me to come,” he replied matter-of-factly with too much confidence and little to no hesitance.

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. The gentle heat in his words dispelled the coldness that had clung to her, leaving her feeling embraced by warmth.

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re no bother at all, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for your text.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N immediately sent him her location. When she made sure he read it, she decided it was best to wait for him inside her house. It wasn’t like he was going to be there in the next twenty seconds. So, she sat by the window, grabbed a flashlight from her cupboard, and turned it on.

She felt giddy for some reason—excited to see him again. There was a certain kindness to him, she supposed. A comforting aura that told her that when he was there, there was nothing to fear. Maybe it was the fact that he towered over her, and she was sure his whole body would engulf her if she ever found herself in his arms. Or maybe it was his blue eyes that consumed her whole.

A car's headlights suddenly pierced through the darkness, grabbing Y/N's attention and pulling her out of her reverie. Startled, she glanced down at her phone, disbelief washing over her as she realized she had been lost in her thoughts for what felt like an eternity. To her surprise, only fifteen minutes had actually passed. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over her when the car parked by her house.

Y/N's heart raced with anticipation as she hastily bolted toward the door, unlocking it and eagerly stepping outside. Though her giddiness and excitement turned to confusion when she realized that Steve wasn't the one who emerged from the car.

“Miss Y/N?” a man called out. It was Sam, Steve’s best friend. When Y/N nodded, he continued, “I’m Sam Wilson, and this is Bucky Barnes. Steve sent us.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” She shook their hands. “Thank you so much for coming. I'm sorry to have bothered you this late.”

“Where’s the electrical panel?” Bucky cut to the chase. Now that he was close, he looked a bit intimidating. He stood at the same height as Steve, though slightly less physically built.

Y/N led him to the panel, taking a step back to allow him to work. He carefully examined it while she fidgeted with her hands, gazing at the car they had arrived in.

“We were in the area,” Sam’s voice cut through. Y/N’s attention turned to him. She looked like a deer in the headlights. “Steve lives upstate. He figured it was faster to send us.”

“And I really appreciate it,” Y/N responded.

After Sam joined Bucky in examining the panel, silence filled the air for a while. The sound of electricity hissing intermittently persisted until both men finally stepped back.

“The bad news is, some of the fuses seem to have melted and need replacement,” Bucky explained. “The good news is, it shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. But, it’ll have to wait until morning.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped slightly as she absorbed the information. What has she ever done to be rewarded with two terrible weeks?

“Alright. Thanks for the help. I’m sorry to have disturbed you at this hour,” she said, sounding apologetic.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Hold on a minute,” he interjected, a touch of worry in his voice. “You can’t just go back to your house like this.”

Confused, Y/N asked, “Why not?”

“Because it’s freezing outside, and you’re gonna get hypothermia without any heat in your house. Not to mention it’s not safe.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, trying to brush off the concern. “I have quilts, you know,” she reassured him. “And a lock.”

Sam shook his head. He turned to Bucky, who licked his mouth before he spoke. “If you do that, doll. I have a feeling our boss will not be too happy about it,” Bucky admitted. “Let me call him.”

Bucky stepped away from the group, pulling out his phone to make the call. As he conversed with Steve, Y/N caught fragments of their conversation before the phone was handed to her.

“You’re not seriously going to sleep in your house?” Steve’s voice sounded both worried and protective.

Y/N responded with a soft hum, trying to downplay the situation. “I have quilts and a lock.”

“And I have a perfectly fine apartment nearby that I don’t use. It’s not too far from your place.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes focused on the ground. She then looked up, biting her lower lip. “Steve,” she started, her voice wavering slightly.

He interrupted her gently, understanding the weight of the situation. “Look, I know we’ve barely met. But I can’t just let you sleep in your house under such circumstances. Especially after Bucky and Sam couldn’t help much. I don’t use that apartment, and if it makes you feel safer, you can text your friends your Live Location and take your own car there. I just want to help.”

Y/N was taken aback by Steve’s unwavering concern and kindness. She realized that his offer came from a genuine place of wanting to help, even though they were relative strangers. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded appreciatively.

“Alright, Steve. Thank you,” she finally responded, her voice filled with gratitude. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Glad to hear it, Y/N. Could you pass Bucky the phone, please? We’ll make sure you’re safe and warm tonight.”

Y/N handed Bucky the phone. She quickly explained to Sam that she would be retrieving a few belongings from her apartment. On her way inside, Y/N shot Yelena a text, including her live location and a brief explanation. Just in case.

Taking a moment to gather her essentials, including pepper spray for added security, Y/N made sure to remember to take Steve's jacket, the one he’d offered her two weeks ago. With her belongings in hand, she set off on her way. If only she knew what she had gotten herself into.

Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool @patzammit @wintasssoldier @themrsrogers

Steve seems like a knight in shining armor. Does he not?

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 3 | Star Command Blue

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #avengers #steve rogers x y/n #mafia steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x reader

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 2 months

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Rayburn Jr. Steve the Stupendous vs. LuchoLuchon

#rumble #rumble 2021 #rumble movie #rayburn jr.#lucholuchon

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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there's really no one from the older kids that wouldn't make a stupendous big sibling for El I mean-

Jonathan- already her big brother in canon, can and will lie to law enforcement for her, has proven the ability to have heartfelt conversations with his siblings, unbelievably reliable and loyal

Argyle- on board with any and all of her wants to try things that are new to her even if they're mundane to everyone else, will be just as excited about it as she is even if he's done said thing a thousand times before because he has the ability to see the experience through her eyes

Nancy- "sometimes using violence is the answer, but here's how to win with your words in the event you want to avoid everyone getting all up in arms about it"; helps El understand that she is not worse for her anger, that she's allowed to have unpleasant feelings without it making her unpleasant

Steve- style mentor of all time in that he's like "you know what I would also like to evolve from the style that was expected of me for years because I have to decide if that's what I actually like let's go thrift shopping I am going to buy us so much weird shit"

Robin- just tell me that she and El wouldn't love sharing the new facts they've learned since they last saw each other, Robin loves information so much that no matter what topic El is interested in that week Robin will sit rapt at attention and encourage her forward with relevant questions

Eddie- proof that you can be behind in school/ struggle academically and still be smart; poster boy for radical self acceptance; would literally not even have to try that hard at all to instill a love of Loud Music or an interest in tattoos she gets to choose for herself in her are you kidding

just!! the protectors and mentors she deserves!!

#dot post #stranger things #jonathan byers #argyle #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harrington #el hopper

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collectorsedtn · 2 years

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The (insane, crazy, stupid) Deal - P.1

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Series Summary: When Y/N Henderson asks her crush out in front of his girlfriend (who she didn't know about!) damage control needs to be done. In a state of panic, she asks Steve Harrington, her little brothers best friend and Mr Popular of Hawkins High, to pretend to date her for a week. In return, they hope to convince Nancy Wheeler that she made the wrong choice and to see what she's been missing. Fake dating drama ensues. ST Timeline: After Season 2, before Season 3 (but may play around with the timeline just to have Robin and their Scoops Ahoy job in here) word count: 4k a/n: Told myself I wasn't gonna start a series but I just love the fake dating trope so here we are lol Part 2

This was crazy. This was insane and stupid and dumb and crazy. You’re not sure what demon possessed you to make so many stupendously horrible mistakes, but whoever he was, he obviously had it out for you. Each decision you made was worse than the one prior, creating a domino effect where each mistake snowballed into the next, resulting in this exact moment.

The moment in question? Kissing Steve Harrington.

You could tell that Steve was still in shock, his hands barely grasping your waist and his lips pretty much unresponsive to yours. Your eyes were thankfully closed so you could spare yourself the humiliation of seeing his eyes wide open during a very public kiss at a very popular party. You don’t blame him, even you were completely mystified as to what your thought process was for this moment. You had panicked and put barely any thought into what you were doing when you ran up to him and just planted one on him in the middle of the party, simply reacting from one humiliating situation into another one. You knew that this was a huge mistake on so many different accounts. Not only was he King Steve, but he was your brother’s friend and not the boy that you’re actually crushing on, although you had just found out that that boy might just be a lost cause anyway. On that note, you start to pull away, deciding to end this torture sooner rather than later when you suddenly feel Steve’s hands finally start to grasp at your sides and a hint of reciprocity from his own lips, although you’re not even sure if it really happened or if your mind is just trying to make up for the endless rounds of humiliation you had already experienced today.

You open your eyes to see Steve’s completely bewildered expression, his eyes wide with confusion and mouth slightly agape, but his hands still holding onto your waist. You open your mouth so you can start explaining yourself before deciding against it, realising the music would be too loud for you to properly have a conversation with him. You grab his hand instead, guiding him to the closest room you could find, weaving through groups of people who openly stare at the two of you with curiosity and a few snickers, probably making wrong assumptions as to where we were going and what we were going to do. You finally reach a bathroom, quickly pulling Steve in after you and locking the door. You lean your back against the door, reaching your hand to rest over your chest and feeling your heart beating against the palm of your hand, adrenaline going through the roof.

“Okay, let me explain myself.” You begin.

“Yeah, what the hell was that, Henderson?” Steve’s slightly annoyed, this much you can gather. He’s standing across from you, leaning on the sink with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Usually I’m good at picking up signals but you got me at a complete loss this time. Where the hell did that come from?”

“Look, I panicked, okay? I just panicked. My brain imploded and I panicked and I kissed you.” You rambled, mind running a mile a minute.

“That’s not an explanation.” He retorts, shaking his head.

“It felt like I had no other choice.”

“Just what a man wants to hear.”

“I mean, I felt – I felt trapped! I thought there was only one solution to get me out of it.”

“Earth to Y/n? You’re still not making sense. Get you out of what?”

You let out a deflated sigh before answering, “Danny McCormick.” You keep your eyes trained on your shoes, avoiding eye contact as you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

There’s silence for a moment as Steve processes what you said but comes up empty. “...Danny McCormick?”

You push away from the door and start pacing the short length of the bathroom, still keeping your eyes trained to your feet. “Tonight was the night I was finally gonna make a move on Danny McCormick. And I did. Kind of.” You explain, wringing your hands. “Well, I was starting to, y’know? I asked him out.”

You finally look up at him to make sure he’s following your story to see his brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay? Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”

“Because right after I asked him out, Mandy, his apparent girlfriend who I knew nothing about, showed up right next to him, giving me the stink eye. Which, in retrospect, I totally deserved.”

Steve nods his head slowly, you can tell he’s trying to pick up the pieces. “Ah, so I’m guessing this is where the panicking starts?”

“Yup. My brain just went into fight or flight and I started improvising. But the big, huge, terrible problem is that I’m not good at improvising. I just start saying the first thing that comes to my head without even thinking about the repercussions of what I’ve just said”

“Wrap it up, Henderson, get to the explanation.” Steve says impatiently.

“So my brain kind of starts working overtime when I realise that I’ve just asked Danny out in front of his girlfriend and I’m scrambling for ideas to get me out of it, when suddenly I see you right in my line of vision. Now, this is the part where the monkey with the cymbals in my brain starts getting all erratic and giving me bad ideas.”

“The monkey with the cymbals?”

“Yeah you know the one. The monkey toy in the yellow vest that goes crazy with the cymbals? The one with the creepy eyes? That’s what I picture is driving all my common sense away in my head. Like the cymbals are just blocking and drowning all other thoughts out. Anyway, I see you, and the monkey with the cymbals goes off in my brain, and I think hey, there’s Steve, he’s a nice guy! He’s friends with my brother! And so I just tell them, Danny and Mandy, that what I meant to say was double date, not date singular, but date plural. And obviously Mandy isn't buying it so she’s all ‘Well who’s your date?’ and so I say–”

“Steve.” Steve finishes.

“Exactly!” You say, pointing your fingers at Steve. “But she can still smell the bullshit since I’m not a great actor, so she’s all ‘You’re going on a date with Steve Harrington?’ and she says it in this real condescending tone which really pisses me off. And look, I know and you know that you would never date me which I’m totally fine with because I would never date you, but who the hell is Mandy to assume that I’m not good enough for Steve Harrington? As if I’m below you or something!”

“I’m guessing the monkey cymbals came out again.”

“Oh, the monkey cymbals came out in full force when she said that because I just ran towards you in a blind, hot rage and–”

“Kissed me.”

“Yes! That’s when I kissed you and – Oh my god! I kissed you!” You gasp out, hand coming over your mouth as you realise what you had done. You had gotten so wrapped up in the explanation of it all that you had already forgotten you kissed Steve. “This is basically assault. I pretty much assaulted you. I’m an assaulter!”

“Woah woah woah let’s not go that far.” Steve stressed, pushing himself off the sink.

“No but I did Steve! I just kissed you without your consent. God, this is probably the worst thing I’ve ever done. I just forced you to kiss me!” You lean back against the wall and slide down until you’re crouched on the floor, arms resting on your knees and your head in your hands.

“I wouldn’t use the word for–”

“People get charged for doing stuff like this. People get arrested for doing stuff like this.” You exclaim, looking up at Steve who was now standing in front of you.

“Nobody is getting arrested–”

“It’s basically the same as punching someone. I’m no better than some violent, brutish–”

“You are taking this way too far.”

“ –abuser. I mean, I should really let you punch me.”

“ –what?” Steve barks, so shocked that he takes a physical step back.

You tilt your head up to look at him, sincere expression adorning your face. “I totally deserve it. An eye for an eye. I assault you, you assault me.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to punch you, are you crazy?”

“It’s only fair.”

“It’s not fair if I don’t want to punch you!” Steve scoffs.

“But I’m letting you! All I ask is anywhere but the face. I've recently grown to like my face and it’ll be harder to hide the bruise.” You commanded, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes to pretend like you were preparing yourself to get hit, hiding the smile that was tugging at your lips. You were obviously teasing Steve at this point since you knew he would never hit you, but you also weren’t close enough to him for him to know that you were joking.

“Y/n stop it. I’m not hitting you.” Steve huffed, nudging his foot with yours so you’d open your eyes again and look at him.

You give in, turning your head back and staring up at him again. “But I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

“I don’t know what type of person you think I am, but allowing me to hit you is not you making it up to me. Besides, after hearing all of that, the kiss is the last thing I’m annoyed about, the double date on the other hand–”

At this you scramble to your feet and grab Steve’s hand, remembering the stupid double date that you lied to Danny about. “Please Steve it’ll just be one date–”

“No way! I am not going to willingly spend my free time with Danny McCormick of all people.”

You pull your hand back quickly. “What’s wrong with Danny?” You question defensively.

Steve scoffs at this, shrugging slightly. “No offence to your taste or whatever, but the dude’s got the personality of a wet blanket.”

“He does not!”

“Uh, yes he does.”

“No he doesn’t! He’s kind and smart and has passion and hobbies and interests!” You defend.

“Yet he’s somehow still the most boring person I’ve ever met on the planet, and need I remind you Y/N, we live in Hawkins Indiana, we probably have the highest percentage of boring people in the world.” Steve teases with a small smile, walking over to the bathroom door and unlocking it, deciding the conversation is over.

“Please Steve, I’ll do whatever you want!” You insist, following behind him as he exits the bathroom. “I’ll take over babysitting duties! I’ll drop off and pick up Dustin from your house so you don’t have to drive him! I’ll do your trig work for you!”

Steve pauses at this,“All my trig homework?” He asks, head not even turning to look at you.

“Well, actually, probably not that since I’m morally against plagiarism and doing someone else’s work for them but I’ll tutor you in trig! I promise I’m a really great tutor!”

Steve laughs at this before shaking his head and continuing to walk away. “Yeah, no way. No deal.”

You continue to chase after him, weaving through throngs of people. Once you’re close enough again, you hold onto the bottom of his shirt between your fingers so that you don’t lose him again, trailing behind him as he makes his way past people.“C’mon Steve! It’s just one shitty double date. Honestly, tell me what you want in exchange because these are desperate times.”

“Very desperate times apparently.” Steve mused, smirking down at you and making light of your previous kiss. You bark out a laugh and hit his arm as you round a corner, bumping directly into Nancy and Jonathan, causing all four of you to jump back slightly. The air is awkward and tense around the four of you with Steve’s eyes on Nancy, Nancy’s eyes on Steve and Jonathan’s eyes on Nancy, you just there taking the whole thing in.

“Steve,” Nancy finally beamed, smiling at him sincerely, Jonathan next to her smiling politely as well. Nancy’s eyes quickly cut to your hand which was still holding onto the bottom of Steve’s shirt and up to your face, a barely noticeable furrow clouding her expression for a second before she wipes it away with a smile directed at you. “And Y/N! Hi.”

You smile politely back at her in return, making note of the expression you caught on Nancy’s face that you’re sure no one else saw.

“Hey, didn’t know you guys would be at this party.” Steve manages with a grin, you can tell that it’s forced from the way it doesn’t reach his eyes and you’re sure Nancy can tell too.

“Yeah, we kinda felt like we needed to spend some time with people our age after listening to the kids play dnd all day.” Jonathan explains casually, Nancy nodding along in agreement.

The four of you stand together in awkward silence, nodding along to the previous statement, “Oh shoot!” You pipe up, breaking the silence as you turn to face Steve, nudging his shoulder with yours. “That actually reminds me that we should probably get going. I promised Dustin I’d be home soon to help him set up the next campaign. You can still give me a ride, right Steve?” You asked, looking up at him with wide eyes which hopefully translated what you were saying but probably made you look crazy.

“Uh yeah sure…” Steve replies slowly, obviously not understanding what you’re doing but just going along with it. “Yeah, me and Henderson are gonna get going. We’ll see you guys later.”

All four of you wave your goodbyes before you start to walk away with Steve, impulsively grabbing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his, keeping a strong grip so he doesn’t pull away.

Steve nearly jumps back at the surprising contact, staring down at you with wide, dumbfounded eyes. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve questions through gritted teeth.

You lean up on your toes to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Testing out a theory.” You turn your head back just before you round the corner and see Nancy’s eyes linger on yours and Steve’s hands, causing you to break out into a mischievous smile. The second you’re out of sight of Nancy and Jonathan you wrench your hand from Steve’s and lift it for a high five, to which Steve just stares blankly at your hand.

“What am I meant to do with that?” Steve nods towards your still upraised hand, wearing an expression of mild annoyance.

“High five!” You explain, still holding your hand up.

“Why?” Steve asks, finally relenting and giving you a very lacklustre high five, although you would say it was more similar to a gentle hand nudging rather than a high five.

“Because,” you sing, “Nancy was one hundred percent staring at our hands meaning, drumroll please!” Steve stares at you blankly again, not willing to entertain you. “Wow, you’re in a mood.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “It means she’s jealous, nimrod. That’s what I can give you in exchange.” You pat Steve on the arm with a smile, walking on without him while you let him absorb your words behind you.

“You think she was jealous?” Steve calls out after you, jogging back up to you. By now the two of you were out of the house and on your way to Steve’s car, the night air so chilly that your breaths came out like puffs of smoke.

“Definitely. I noticed it when we first bumped into them so I had to test out my theory, that’s why I held your hand.” You explain, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets to bury them away from the cold. You hear Steve hum in reply as he processes this information in his own time, silently leading the both of you to his car. “So will you do it?” You ask, breaking Steve out of his thoughts as he unlocks the car.

“Do what?”Steve asks, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Go on the date with me in exchange for making Nancy jealous again.” You elaborated simply, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door.

“What? No.” Steve grumbles, frowning and shaking his head as he starts the car up and pulls away from the house, refusing to make eye contact with you. “I don’t even care if Nancy gets jealous. We’re broken up anyways.”

You whip your head around to face him and give him a look which reads ‘I can read straight through your bullshit’, smiling a little at his obvious state of denial. “Uh yeah, sure. I totally believe you.” You tease sarcastically.

“What, you don’t bel–” He stops himself when he pulls his eyes away from the road and glances your way, deciding to give up then and there when he sees the expression on your face. “Yeah alright, so I care a little bit that she got jealous, so what?”

You smile triumphantly at his admission before explaining your plan to him, “So you can go on the double date with me and then I’ll let you act all flirty with me in front of Nancy and make her jealous and see what she’s missing.”

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but I’m not going on the double date. I don’t do double dates. Especially double dates with Dann—”

“Danny McCormick, yeah I know.” You grumble out defeatedly, slumping in your passenger seat. You’re silent for a moment as you think of other options to get you out of your humiliating mess with Danny, especially since you have to see him every single day in class. “What if I cancel on the double date but you act all flirty with me in front of Danny and Mandy, just enough to prove to them that I wasn’t hitting on him.”

“But you were hitting on him.” Steve reminds you pointedly.

“Only because I didn’t know he had a girlfriend!” You defend yourself, huffing out an annoyed sigh when you see Steve’s lips quirk up at your obvious irritation. “C’mon Steve! This can be mutually beneficial. Just do your whole flirty King Steve bit with me in front of Nancy, Danny and Mandy and it’s a win-win situation.” You’re practically begging at this point, as if you hadn’t experienced enough humiliation in one night.

You watch with bated breath as Steve keeps his eyes forward on the road ahead, his one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other pulling at his lip, obviously thinking over your proposal and how it will benefit him. “If I say yes to this, and that’s if, we gotta set some ground rules.”

You practically fling your body forward so you’re turned in your chair and facing him, nodding your head vigorously and excitedly. “Yes! Ground rules. Completely agree.”

“Like, there needs to be an end date to all of this. And we need to specify what we’re allowed to do and when we’re allowed to do it.” You nod along to everything Steve says, too excited and overwhelmed to even come up with your own ground rules. “And we gotta think of an answer for when people start asking questions about what we are to each other.”

“What we are to each other?” You’re confused now, as you had just assumed that the situation would just be some light flirting in the hallway, not anything that resembled actual dating.

“Yeah, I mean, I flirt with everyone so if you want it to be believable that we’re really into each other, I kinda gotta go all in. People are gonna ask questions.” Steve shrugs, catching your eye briefly before turning away again.

“Oh… I guess I never thought about that.” You mumble out quietly.

“What? Now you’re all shy and want to back out? Aren’t you the one that kissed me?” Steve teases as he finally stops the car in front of your house, pulling his key out of the ignition.

“Shut up, I was just thinking.” You grin back, undoing your seatbelt and twisting your body so you’re fully facing him with your back to the passenger door and your legs crossed on the seat. You’re silent for a moment as you pick apart ideas in your brain, trying to come up with some ground rules that would benefit both of you in this situation. “I think we should start off with just one week of public flirting slash displays of affection, then we can reconsider if we need more time after the one week.” You finally propose.

Steve nods his head at this, mimicking your actions by sitting cross legged across from you as well. “Kissing or no kissing?” He asks.

“No kissing. Unless absolutely necessary.” You answer with the shake of your head. “And if people ask what we are to each other, we’ll say that we’ve just been on a few dates, nothing serious.”

“Yeah, I like that. Good answer.” Steve nods along before leaning over and rummaging through the centre console, finally fishing out some old receipt paper and a pen, no doubt jotting down everything you were saying. “And what do we tell Dustin?” Steve asks, not looking up as he finishes writing down his last word.

“Why does Dustin need to know?”

“Don’t you think he’s gonna hear about how one of his best friends is being seen with his sister?” Steve asks.

“This thing is gonna last a week.” You state, shaking your head dismissively. “I doubt it’ll make the gossip rounds and reach his middle school in just a week.”

“Yeah, but it might.” Steve counters.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we get there.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and sighs in defeat. “Fine, whatever.” He says, shrugging his shoulders and scooting closer to you, passing the old receipt paper which he was writing on. “Have a look at this and see if it looks alright.” You grab the paper from him and quickly skim through all the bullet points, nodding along to everything but stopping at the last point. Y/N will not fall in love with Steve.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to the last point.

“It’s a clause that says you won't fall in love with me.” Steve says matter of factly, expression dead serious.

“Yeah, right” You snort, stealing the pen out of his hand so you can cross it out.

“I’m being serious. You haven’t experienced my full charm, Y/N, the clause is completely necessary.” Steve insists with crossed arms.

You roll your eyes and laugh at him a little but decide not to fight him on this, signing your name messily at the bottom of the paper before passing it to Steve to sign as well. Once you both signed the paper, you took his hand in yours and gave it one firm shake to fully seal the deal, Steve even giving you a salute with his other hand, causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Steve jokes, giving one last shake before letting your hand go.

“I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.” You say, gathering your few belongings before stepping out of the car. You start to shut the car door but stop halfway, leaning down again to say one more thing, “Again, I am so sorry for kissing you without your permission. So sorry.” You say sheepishly, earning some surprised laughter from Steve.

“Henderson, seriously, it’s fine. Plus, I’ll get you back at some point this week so fair is fair.” Steve says, cheeky glint in his eyes.

You squint your eyes at him before slamming the door shut, walking halfway up your driveway before turning around and shouting, “You better read those terms and conditions well. It said unless absolutely necessary.” You turn back around before seeing his reaction, running up to your door and wondering what the hell you had just got yourself into.

#fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader blurb #stranger things #stranger things 4

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diceriadelluntore · 2 months

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Storia Di Musica #316 - The Black Crowes, The Southern Harmony And Musical Companion, 1992

La musica rock americana a fine anni ’80 è un calderone emozionante di vibrazioni che ribolle in continuazione. In quegli anni ci sarà una straordinaria concentrazione di visioni musicali, che a seconda della zona dell’immensa nazione prende dal passato per proiettarsi nel futuro. Se per esempio a Seattle la tradizione viene usata per fare a pezzi il vecchio e diventare occasione per buttare fuori tutta l’ansia del periodo, nel profondo Sud è il trampolino di lancio per catapultare nella contemporaneità il rock “classico”. La storia di oggi ci porta in Georgia, ad Atlanta, dove i fratelli Robinson crescono in una famiglia nella quale, nei decenni precedenti, la musica ha regalato qualche soddisfazione: infatti il padre, Dan, arrivò addirittura in classifica con un singolo, Boom-A-Dip-Dip, nel 1959. I fratelli Robinson, Chris alla voce e Rich alla chitarra, prima si avvicinano al punk, ma ben presto trovano molto più stimolante il rock anni ’60, sia quello tipico delle loro parti, il southern rock dal suono caldo e coinvolgente, sia il rock blues anni ’60 portato negli Stati Uniti dai gruppi inglesi. La prima formazione si chiama Mrs. Black Crowe’s Garden, ma nel 1988 cambiano nome in The Black Crowes: diventano localmente richiestissimi nei club di Atlanta e dintorni, dove li nota un emissario della A&M che fa registrare al gruppo dei demo. Non se ne fa nulla, ma una sera a sentirli suonati c’è George Drakoulias, famoso produttore e talent scout, che li segnala alla persona che in quel momento è il produttore più interessante del paese: Rick Rubin. Sebbene non suonino metal, la specialità della Def American di Rubin, i ragazzi suonano meravigliosamente nel loro mix di vecchio e nuovo, un rock solido e arricchito di soul, gospel e passione, e vengono messi sotto contratto. Tutta questa passione si percepisce già dalla copertina del loro primo disco, Shake Your Money Maker (1990): prodotto da George Drakoulias, si rifà nella grafica del titolo e nella foto a quelle mitiche dei gruppi british blues di 30 anni prima, fa pensare ai Faces e ai primi Rolling Stone, e il dubbio scompare sentendo con che voce si presenta Chris Robinson: un mix selvaggio di Rod Steward e di Mick Jagger, il suono potente e solido di brani come She Talks To Angels, Twice As Hard o la superlativa cover di Hard To Handle di Otis Redding. Il successo arriva quasi inaspettato: milioni di copie vendute e una fama crescente, frutto anche delle stupende esibizioni live, pirotecniche e imperdibili, che convincono pure gli spettatori delle band metal della Def American a cui sono chiamati ad aprire i concerti.

Nel 1992, in un paio di settimane, registrano il loro secondo album, chiamati all’arditissimo compito di replicare il successo del primo: ma sin dalle prime note, The Southern Harmony And Musical Companion, che prende il nome dal titolo di un inno di William Walker, un pastore battista dell’800, non delude le aspettative e sarà un disco epocale per bellezza e successo. È sempre la copertina che rivela la nuova strategia della band: i musicisti sono fotografati in bianco e nero facendo intuire che stavolta più che il rock blues inglese è la tradizione del southern rock alla Allman Brothers Band e Lynyrd Skynyrd ad essere di ispirazione. Con l’innesto di Marc Ford alla seconda chitarra (il resto vedeva Johnny Colt al basso, Steve Gorman alla batteria e Eddie Harsch alle tastiere), il suono diventa più pieno e pastoso, l’aggiunta di cori femminile rimanda alla grande tradizione Soul, l’affiatamento generale e le doti da cantante di Chris Robinson, davvero convincente, ne fanno un disco che schizza in vetta alle classifiche, con 4 singoli numero uno nella classifica di Billboard, record rimasto per anni imbattuto. La travolgente Sting Me apre il disco, seguita da Remedy dove si innalza il piano di Eddie Harsch a cadenzarne la ritmica . Thorn In My Pride, un super blues, come No Speak No Slave, ha echi zeppeliani (amore mai nascosto, dopo anni la band registrerà un live nientemeno che con Jimmy Page in persona). Bad Luck Blue Eyes, Goodbye è una ballatona ariosa e stupenda, come Sometimes Salvation, dove Robinson canta alla maniera straziante di Janis Joplin. Hotel Illness è il brano più immediato, come la bellissima My Morning Song. Chiude un omaggio a Bob Marley, Time Will Tell, che sigilla con una struggente natura gospel un disco che si ascolta tutto d’un fiato. Dopo l’ennesimo tour a mille e pieno di soddisfazioni, cambiano produttore e pubblicano nel 1994 Amorica: però più che per le canzoni è ricordato per con la famosa copertina, anche censurata, di un primo piano di un succinto slip a stelle a strisce che appena copre un pube di una donna nera. La band, dopo vari avvicendamenti (il più famoso fu l’allontanamento di Marc Ford come secondo chitarrista, per i gravi problemi di dipendenza da droghe di quest’ultimo) pubblicherà un altro grande disco, By Your Side del 1999, e continuerà una strepitosa carriera live nei più grandi festival e con collaborazioni prestigiose (oltre al già citato Page, anche i mitici Dead) ma i dissidi tra i fratelli, anche economici, porteranno ad una serie di liti e reunion, intramezzati anche da un ottimo disco, Warpaint del 2008, fino allo scioglimento del 2015.

Nel 2019 però l’inattesa svolta: prima l’annuncio di un tour celebrativo di Shake Your Money Maker, poi lo stop per la pandemia Covid-19, ma dal 2022 nuove date e addirittura un nuovo, inatteso disco, che uscirà la settimana prossima, il 15 Marzo 2024, dal titolo che è un programma: Happiness Bastards. Quando uscì, oltre 30 anni fa, Shake Your Money Maker (che è il titolo di un classico blues di Elmore James) la band era considerata la next big thing del rock a stelle e strisce, persino all’esordio musicale band dell’anno 1990 per la rivista Rolling Stone. A distanza di anni si può dire che in parte hanno disatteso quella speranza, ma hanno lasciato degli esempi di musica genuina e viscerale che sembra quasi stridere con tutto quello che in quegli anni diventerà preponderante.

#the black crowes #the southern harmony and the musical companion #1992 #recensione

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tboygareth · 1 month

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7 comfort movies (in no particular order)

tagged by the stupendous @spectrum-spectre!

this took me a million years to actually come up with a whole SEVEN MOVIES, because i'm more of a shows guy than a movies guy, but i think this... works. this is fine. i'm sure i'll think of others that would have fit better but for now!! these are great!

anyway! no pressure tags, and if you've already done it please just ignore me xo: @steves-strapcollection, @patchworkgargoyle, @sidekick-hero, @theheadlessphilosopher, @puppy-steve, @vecnuthy, @kkpwnall

#tag games #movies #bee's buzzing #there are 2 other ones that i could have included but those are ...#they're less comfort movies than they are 'please make sure bee isn't actively making plans to end it all' movies

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jgroffdaily · 4 months

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@officialdonnamurphy

Couldn’t let this year end without celebrating this experience. Seeing this extraordinary production of @merrilyonbway on a most special day in my family’s life is one of my favorite memories of 2023. Director @mariafriedman spectacularly solved what seemed for decades to be an unsolvable puzzle. And this BRILLIANT cast, led by the incomparable #JonathanGroff, the truly hilarious & truly heartbreaking @lindsaymendez & the gorgeously revelatory #danielradcliffe were unimaginable perfection. They were joined by exquisite collaborators including beautiful 🌟 @katieroseclarke , dynamic 🌟@krystaljoybrown , & wonderful @jeremykushnier as Joe, & EVERY stupendous cast member. Must also celebrate music director #joelfram & legendary orchestrator #JonathanTunick for bringing us this always amazing score in such radiant form. The scenic & costume design @soutra , @timjcreative ‘s choreography, @amith_lighting_design , @haradasound - all contributing perfectly. Sharing this with my daughter, who had never seen a previous production (I’ve seen at least 5 & auditioned for at least as many :-) , and loved it- and offered insights that only brought even more meaning to the moment. I can only imagine how #StephenSondheim is smiling . And #GeorgeFurth as well. I raise a glass to everyone involved in bringing this production to us. And to everyone who’s been part of this show’s journey since it’s original production. Thank you so much. My heart is full to bursting. 🙏💖🙌👏🌟🥂#MerrilyWeRollAlong #Steve #George #OurTime #CriedMyFaceOff 😉😭

#jonathan groff #merrily we roll along #donna murphy

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mlptmntfan2000 · 1 month

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Royburn: Playboy Bunny Monsters

Here it is, my new Easter fanart of 2024 was completed yesterday at 1 o’ clock at the morning I made. So enjoy! 😁

Roy and Rayburn Jr. (He wears his same suit in 2022, but with different bunny ear headband) wearing their Playboy Bunny suits for the Easter this year and holding their Easter baskets. They’re decided to hide the eggs so that everyone finds them at the Easter Egg hunt. So happy Easter of 2024 everyone! 🐣 🐣 🐰 🐰

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quitealotofsodapop · 2 years

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more of the Rumble Swap Au asks cus I forgot to post them

Sorry for forgetting to reply for so long Anon(s?)! XD

Im really liking this au, esp since a lot of promo material and Steve’s character writing doesnt even reference his connection to Rayburn Sr - perhaps it was only written in later on in production. This version of Steve as a random schmoe who decided to step up makes his character even more interesting. Very much more Rocky-esque.

It also makes Tentacular’s actions hurt more cus he’s in essence; the prodigal son of Stoker who abandons everyone due to his resentment of his father’s legacy - and he is right too if all he can see is his dead father’s expectations weighing him down.

I feel like Winnie and Steve’s found family dynamic is adorable in this idea, similar to say Wreck-it-Ralph and Vanellope. Giant dude who smashes things and wants to become more + a tiny ambitious fireball.

Swapau!Steve when he gets to Stoker:

#Rumble #rumble 2021 #steve the stupendous #tentacular #rumble swap au #others aus #asks

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girl-next-door-writes · 1 year

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All I Want For Christmas Is You

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Now you and Steve are officially together it’s only right that you are so adorably cute it makes people want to puke, right?

Word Count: 1026 words

Prompt: #8: A and B give each other gifts in a gift exchange

A/N: The amazing @stupendous-science science requested this prompt for the wonderful Mrs. Steve Rogers and I figured it was the perfect ending to this little series. I hope you have enjoyed my Steven’s Greetings. If you did then please reblog, if you didn’t then feel free to move on with your life and not give it a second thought.

The month of December seemed to have flown by in the blink of an eye, and part of Steve was sad to see it go. So much had happened, lots of little things that had led him right here, sat with you snuggled beside him on the sofa surrounded by your friends. The final gift exchange of the year was always a much celebrated tradition, something thoughtful that represented the past year for the person you had pulled from the hat. And by hat, that was H.A.P.P.T, Highly Accurate People Picking Technology. Tony insisted the p’s were silent.

Steve had been nervous and excited when he had picked out your name, torn between revealing his feelings for you and keeping them hidden. Now the cat was out of the bag about his deep affection for you he decided to combine the gifts he into one super soldier sized gift.

Secretly, everyone hoped that Tony had picked them. His gifts were always incredibly personal, outrageously expensive and the envy of everyone. He had a knack for gifts, despite claiming to hate the sentimentality of the season. Steve could only hope that you weren’t too disappointed.

“Okay, so this one is for Capsicle. Well done whoever bought this, you have perfectly disguised your handwriting and I have been unable to figure out who you are.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he looked at his friends, trying to see any hint of a reaction that would give them away.

“Tony, if you really wanted to know who everyone got you could just ask happt.” Scott grinned, knowing how much the mispronunciation would irritate Stark.

“Come on, punk. Open it up so we can get round to Tony’s before he has an aneurism.” Bucky chuckled, knowing full well who Steve’s ‘secret santa’ was.

Carefully, he unwrapped his gift, folding the paper and placing it to one side just as his mom had always done when he was growing up, no point wasting good paper. His brow furrowed as he revealed a box, wondering if this was one of those trick gifts from Stark that would result in him opening smaller and smaller boxes until he found a set of car keys. Removing the lid, a smile tugged at his lips when he saw it was basically a hamper of all his favourite things. There were a couple of records, new sketching pencils, a book he had mentioned wanting to read a couple of months ago, some soft, fluffy Captain America socks, some bubble bath which claimed it helped relax and sooth aching muscles, a small bottle of Asgardian mead and a sketchbook that looked somehow familiar. His fingers ran over the leather cover as his mind tried to pluck out where he had seen them. It was hand bound, filled with handmade pages, no two the same size or shade. It reminded him of his first sketchbooks made up of random pieces of paper he had shuffled together between two sheets of cardboard.

He must have been completely silent as he stared at his gift because people weren’t sure how he was feeling about it. Was he disappointed? Was he upset?

“Hey man, you okay?” Sam asked softly, bringing Steve back to the present.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I just can’t believe one of you guys put so much thought into this! This is amazing. Thank you.” He looked up and smiled at everyone before turning his attention back to the mystery of the sketchbook. He had seen it recently, seen a whole bunch of them, he just couldn’t figure out where.

He had been so preoccupied that he hadn’t realised Tony was passing a gift to you until your elbow bumped him as you pulled back the wrapping paper. Steve’s eyes flitted from the pile on your lap to your face, eager to see your reaction, hoping he had this all right.

Your heart stuttered when you saw your haul. “Looks like we had the same idea.” You looked over at your boy with a soft smile and he realised where he had seen those books! It had been at the Christmas market he’d gone to with you because Bucky bailed. You had left him standing in the crowd and must have bought it then.

Steve grinned as he watched you inspect each item. Your favourite chocolate, favourite book, favourite movie. There was a mix cd with all your favourite songs on it and you chuckled at how old school that was before making a mental note to ask Tony if he had a way to play a cd. There was one of Steve’s hoodies that you had commented on several times, a lip balm in your favourite flavour and a plushie of your favourite animal. In amongst all this was a small box, which you looked at curiously before picking it up and looking at Steve.

It was too big for a ring, but smaller than shoes. The box itself looked a little battered but that didn’t bother you. Opening the lid, your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment. Inside was a paper napkin, a golden brown leaf, some ticket stubs, a square of folded up used wrapping paper and various detritus. It took you a moment before you realised the wrapping paper was the kind you’d used to wrap the tree presents. The ticket stubs were from the Christmas market. The napkin was from the restaurant you’d had dinner with your family. Each and every little piece of tat in that box was something Steve had kept over the past year that had anything to do with you.

“Oh, Steve.” You whispered breathlessly as the full emotional weight of the gift hit you. Carefully placing everything on the ground, you climbed into his lap and wrapped your arms around him tight, whispering a million 'thank yous’ in his ear.

“Anything for my girl.” He murmured back, holding you just as tight. This was everything he had ever wished for, and he would happily give up each and every gift he’d ever got because all he wanted for Christmas was you, and you were all he needed.

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #Steven's Greetings #gndw fic

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