#but I think the general point still stands

[illuminatedferret]

"At this point, I might as well just tell it to you straight. I've got a whole bunch of opinions about you." "Uh... well... I knew that already. For ages now," Xie Lian said. "Oh really?" Mu Qing said coldly. "Then do you know that I often thought you relied on your status too much- that even though you were His Highness the Crown Prince, even though you had good fortune, your skills weren't that much better than mine?" "..." "I also thought that you probably only liked doing all those good deeds for show, because you wanted all the praise and flattery. And that you only helped me because of that- I was the perfect subject for you to demonstrate your sympathy and kindness on. To be honest, some of my opinions haven't changed, even now." (Vol. 8, pg. 54-55)

This does not sound like a guy who has/had a good opinion of Xie Lian.

This sounds like a guy who thinks Xie Lian is an arrogant nepo baby who does good deeds for the optics. And while he mentions Xie Lian's circumstances, it's all couched in what Xie Lian is doing with them. If there is a place in the novel where I'm meant to take away that Mu Qing's issues with Xie Lian were actually with his circumstances, please point it out to me. Because from where I stand, it looks like Mu Qing spends most of the novel with a pretty poor opinion of Xie Lian. He definitely feels resentment over the (original) differences in their stations, but that resentment very clearly rolls over into his resentment regarding Xie Lian and what he sees Xie Lian doing with his station.

Not only that, we see him react positively more than once to Xie Lian suffering/doing bad things. He's a little "cheered" to learn Xie Lian's living in a shack (1.219). He's in an "excellent mood" when Xie Lian is put under house arrest, and he's "uncontrollably excited" to think Xie Lian is responsible for the Gilded Banquet Massacre (2.183). He's smug and passive-aggressive when they're talking about Xie Lian's past as General Hua (1.323) He also accuses Xie Lian of only offering to help 'his general' re: the fetus spirit in hopes of sabotaging his case (5.55). All this is to say, we see throughout canon that this guy does not think highly of Xie Lian. They parted ways on bad terms, and Mu Qing spent 800 years convinced Xie Lian hated him. It took him seeing Xie Lian again after 800 years and being hit in the face again and again with how good he is to finally start admitting both his negative opinions and that despite them, he still admires Xie Lian "more often than not." (8.55)

You also mention how Xie Lian and Mu Qing might have been different if they'd swapped places. But they do swap places!. Xie Lian spends 800 years scavenging for scraps with the worst luck possible. Mu Qing spends 800 years in the heavens, one of Thee most powerful men in the Three Realms. One stays kind and generous, the other stays skeptical and paranoid. Childhoods can be formative, yes, but there comes a limit on when we can attribute everything to a difficult childhood rather than a person's character, and the feasibility gets really stretched when we're talking about characters who have been alive for over 800+ years. TGCF definitely focuses more on nature rather than nurture, for good reason. It's a central theme of the novel.

TGCF makes it clear: to change or to stay the same are both choices. Staying the same is not a default action- often, (especially under pressure) it is an active choice someone makes. Mu Qing had 800 years to unpack his issues and grow as a person. He didn't. I find it both lazy and boring to throw everything about Mu Qing under the label of 'virtually sealed' because he had a difficult childhood, especially when we see none of said childhood. On top of that, you're assuming Mu Qing likely would have been a better person had he been in Xie Lian's position, but the opposite is just as possible- who's to say being a prince wouldn't have made him worse? Look at Qi Rong. Xie Lian's parents are permissive as hell. That Xie Lian turned out how he did speaks to his character, not the people around him. And in canon Mu Qing may dislike being compared to the Crown Prince he once served, but I imagine that if their positions were swapped, he would have hated even more being outshone by a mere servant.

Also, forgive me if this is unwelcome, but I feel like your argument would be much stronger if you relied on textual evidence from the book from phases of Mu Qing's life that we actually see- for example, I do believe that watching Xie Lian crash and burn in Book 2/4 definitely discouraged him from ever sticking his neck out for someone else. It would discourage me! But talking about Mu Qing's childhood as crucial for understanding him when we get maybe a few sentences about it isn't very compelling. Mu Qing is an interesting character with a lot of depth and complexity, but reducing him down to 'he couldn't help it, and it was always about their stations anyway' does him a disservice.

There's something to be said about how Mu Qing and Jun Wu both held these ideas about Xie Lian and who he really is as a person- specifically, that his kind and forgiving nature is a lie, and deep down he's actually just like them. These are ideas Mu Qing and Jun Wu spent centuries believing, refusing to be convinced otherwise until they had no other choice.

But that's where their similarities end. Because while Mu Qing resents Xie Lian for his good character, he also honestly admires him for it. Jun Wu, on the other hand, 'loves' Xie Lian, but grows angrier each time he's reminded of how different they really are. And so I think it's very fitting that when Mu Qing finally swallows his pride and admits his preconceptions and faults to Xie Lian, it's on the Heavens-Crossing Bridge, the literal wreckage of Jun Wu's hopes and dreams.

[kinardsevan]

What do you think are the chances of Buck and Tommy getting back together at some point??

I have answered this, here. It's long-winded with specific references as to why I feel the way I do.

If you want specific odds? I still stand by my "I don't have hope, I'm hopeful" statement. I don't trust the writers, but the part of me that understands writing a story and how television works (and hello breaking up in the middle of a season that isn't a midseason finale? pfft.), that part of me feels that we're in the middle of the ride. I also contend with the fact that if this breakup hadn't come out of left field during election week, we wouldn't have reacted as wildly as we did. we put so much weight into those interviews at the time, specifically towards the one that OS and TM did together, and then the one that LFJr did, and so much on the way Fangirlish phrased things. But as I've commented on over and over, OS and LFJr can't tell us where things are going, and TM won't. One, because it wouldn't serve the story, and two, what's the fun in that? Of course they want us guessing so we'll keep watching.

Now, so much weight gets put into Tim's words about how he doesn't know what's happening in the show more than a few weeks in advance, but we also know that they have general ~ideas of character arcs, at least for the part of the season they're working on. To that end, I maintain my contention that you're not breaking them up and telling LFJr "yeah sorry we might bring you back but maybe not, we'll see". That man broke them up knowing whether or not he wanted for him to return in the spring. He may not know how the story is going to be told quite yet, but he at least knows yes or no. Moreover, if the story was well and truly over, we're not getting mentions of Tommy in 807 and 808, and Buck still hung up on him. It doesn't feed the narrative, once again. If you want Tommy done/dead/in the past, you don't continue to suggest the characters are thinking about one another. You can do Buck being sad about the breakup without that kind of storytelling (i.e., season 2 with Abby's exit).

Once again, though, I want to reference every break up that has lasted on OG: BuckAbby-110. BuckTaylor: 518. BuckNatalia: (off screen but effectively) 618/701. EddieAna: 501. EddieMarisol & EddieKim: 710 By correlation, Madney's breakups were midseason and didn't stay broken up. Bathena never really "broke up" for any period of time, but they did have their struggles... oh when? The middle of the season. The only other "break ups" you can refer to within the context of the show is Doug and Shannon's deaths, which yes were in the middle of the seasons, but they were serving the narratives (and also TM regrets killing both off as soon as he did so....). We've also seen TM pull some of these midseason breakups on LS, only to not have them last. He did an offscreen split with Tarlos that was wrapped up by the end of that season opener.

Even without all of that evidence though (I really just piece it together so y'all can follow my line of logic), at the end of the day, what I'm looking at is a story being told and figuring out how you make the right moves. Maybe LFJr was only intended to tell a small story, but you know what you don't do when a character is embraced by the audience? Send them off into the sunset because you couldn't forge a better plot for them. You go back to the drawing board and figure out how to expand their story. Shows have done it for ages, and I refuse to believe that ABC saw the reaction of people to LFJr and said "get rid of him".

At the end of the day, I stay with the fact that they have to get back together because, narratively, it's what makes the most sense with the information we've been given. I think it's messy to ask people to wait 6 months for that payoff, but I also grew up in a time when streaming wasn't the norm and we didn't wait full calendar years for TV shows to release a new season. I don't put a lot of weight in the weekly interviews at this point because it feels like they're now using those instead of real 30sec. promos the way it used to be. Granted, you can argue that they unintentionally found Buck's endgame "too early" for their own liking.... but then why have him be with someone who calls him by his first name when most people in his life don't? Why suggest that Evan sees a future with Tommy in a way that we understand as an audience isn't starry-eyed like the breakup scene portrays, but is actually out of something real (as the dispatch scene suggests)? Why EVER have Buck suggest something like marriage (which he never has, even about Abby) if we're not circling back to it?

Many have stated that these are ways to just twist the knife, make it hurt more, and I can't negate that or tell you they're wrong. Even if everything I suggest ends up being right, I still can't make the argument that some of those storytelling choices weren't just to make the breakup hurt more. At the end of the day, though, my hope is that at least some of it was done in service of the narrative instead of just callousness.

Anyway. I've rambled again, and I'm sorta not sorry about it. I hope this at least answers your question though 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[reginyani]

Late Night Case Files | s.reid x reader

you and Spencer find yourselves working late on some case files, and what starts off as a deep conversation ends in something more intimate.

category: fluff

cw: Y/N used, reader implied as a female, make out sesh (sorta), earlyseasons!spencer

wc: 811

note: please reblog if you enjoyed! reblogging is the only way to promote fics on tumblr :) this is pretty simple, but the ideas are not flowing recently💔

It was well past midnight when you and Spencer Reid found yourselves in a dimly lit conference room. Case files were scattered everywhere, but you both were too deep into this case to just take off and leave it for tomorrow. Coffee cups were carefully placed away from the stacks of papers, barely touched and cold.

Spencer looked up into the distance, muttering to himself while he processed new information. You watched him for a few moments, visibly seeing something click in his brain that hadn't before. He looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It was quite amusing, actually.

"Y/N, I think I've got it." He motioned with his hand for you to come over to his side. He held onto the file, letting you look at it for a moment before telling you. You looked at him, confused, still not understanding. He finally pointed at the paper, looking up at you. "Right here," his voice was quieter due to the darkness of the night. "This here is the connection we've all just looked over. We missed it, and there it was... in plain sight." He sighed.

You smile brightly, nodding at his connection to the case. "You're amazing, boy genius," you said softly, but not just about the case—just him in general. Spencer's usual distance from you, both emotionally and physically, was absent tonight. He was closer than normal, almost leaving no space between you two, like right now. You shifted slightly away from him, realizing how weird it was to be so close to him. It wasn’t normal.

He looked over at you, smiling at your compliment. "I'm just doing my job, Y/N." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, waiting for you to say something else.

"It's not just that, Reid. You see every little detail that others don't. It's truly something that you should give yourself more credit for." Spencer's lips parted slightly as you said this, like he was going to say something, but he hesitated. "What?" you asked.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I've missed out on the most simple things." He looked down at the files scattered on the table again before looking back up at you. "Like... really connecting with people, you know?"

You were taken aback by this. This was Dr. Spencer Reid, a man who could crack cases in seconds, decode a serial killer’s mind without any issues! But something about the atmosphere of the dark night outside the windows, the late hour, and the rhythm you shared in the work you had just done made him feel... loose.

You met his eyes, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I've just never had the opportunity to talk about this stuff with anyone before. Not in any way that feels... real," he explained, causing you to automatically nod in his direction.

"You're not alone, Spencer. I think everyone struggles with that sometimes," you said, puckering your lips with empathy. You couldn't help it, the warmth spread throughout your body as you felt the connection between you two growing by the second.

He was standing in front of you, barely any space between you two. You soon began to notice this—it was hard not to. You both stared into each other's eyes, letting the tension grow heavier.

Spencer broke the silence, sounding almost breathless as he smiled at you. "Did you know," he began, putting a hand on your cheek and drawing you closer to him, "according to studies, kissing is actually safer than shaking hands?"

You raised an eyebrow in question. "Kissing? Really?" you asked, your heart beating rapidly. He didn't answer, instead slowly closing the gap between you both.

When your lips met, it was soft at first, like a question that you had to answer. You quickly answered it, pulling your hand up and resting it on his shoulder as you deepened the kiss. Your other hand found its way to his neck, holding onto it as you pulled him in closer.

You both eventually pull away, his hand still resting on your cheek, your breaths mingling between you two. You smiled, and he sent one back. Your breath started to calm, and he opened his mouth.

"Way safer than shaking hands..." he muttered, still breathless from the previous act.

You chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. "Well, I think I can take that as a compliment."

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Kansas City - Interview Broadcast Day [9/12]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 7.6k Summary: The campaign rolls through Kansas City to make a pitstop to watch with the rest of the country as your interview with Oprah airs on Sunday night primetime television.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened. And in case you missed it, this is who I mentioned in a post that I cast to play the role of Jake, our fearless campaign manager.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The savory aroma of slow-cooked meat and smoky spices envelops you as you step out of the campaign SUV and onto the sun-baked sidewalk in front of Arthur Bryant's Barbeque. The iconic Kansas City establishment stands before you, its red brick facade and neon sign a beacon for barbecue lovers from across the nation.

Steve emerges from the vehicle behind you, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the restaurant. "I've been looking forward to this all day," he admits, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You can't help but smile back, feeling a flutter of excitement in your own stomach. You’re beginning to believe butterflies will never stop hitting you when he smiles at you like that.

After days of campaign events and press conferences, this small detour feels like a breath of fresh air. There will still be conversations, meeting strangers, taking questions, hearing from the people, and press capturing everything second of it, but part of these kinds of stops at least feel slightly more organic. You feel like the conversations, at least, are more real, and you get to know people for who they really are in the places they actually go on a regular kind of day. The fact that it involves world-famous barbecue is just a bonus.

It’s also one of the rare days you both get to be dressed down and casual. Steve even wears a dark blue baseball cap to help lower his profile of being recognized even more.

As you approach the entrance, you and Steve reach for each others hands, fingers locking, natural as anything now.

The moment you step inside Arthur Bryant's, you're hit with a wave of nostalgia. The no-frills interior, with its simple tables and chairs, feels like stepping back in time. The walls are adorned with photos of famous patrons and news clippings, a testament to the restaurant's rich history.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm smile approaches. "Captain Rogers, Mrs. Rogers, welcome to Arthur Bryant's," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Jerry, the manager. We're honored to have you here."

Steve shakes Jerry's hand firmly. "The honor is ours, Jerry. We've heard amazing things about your barbecue."

"Well, we hope to live up to the hype," Jerry chuckles. "Why don't I give you a quick tour before we get you set?"

As Jerry leads you through the restaurant, pointing out photos of past presidents and celebrities who have dined there, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you. There are whispers and a few excited waves, but for the most part, people seem content to let you enjoy your visit.

Jerry brings you to the counter where the magic happens. The smell of smoked meat is even stronger here, making your mouth water and your stomach growl audibly. Steve glances at you with an amused smile.

"Now, what can I get for you folks?" Jerry asks.

Steve's eyes light up as he scans the menu board. "I think I'll have the burnt ends sandwich and some fries," he says.

“And you, Mrs. Rogers?”

“I want a brisket sandwich,” you reply.

“Only the half?” Jerry asks.

“With sides of the cheesy corn, baked beans, onion rings, and cole slaw,” you add.

“Atta girl!” the man grins. “This one knows how to order!” he calls out to the others around. “She’s got my vote!”

You laugh at Jerry's enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy camaraderie. Steve grins and shakes his head. "I think I've been outdone," he says good-naturedly.

Jerry chuckles as he starts preparing your order. "Well, Captain, maybe I’ll swing my vote to you by the time we hit November. Now, what can I get you to drink?"

"Sweet tea for me," you say.

"Make that two," Steve adds with a smile.

As Jerry busies himself with your order, you and Steve take a moment to look around the restaurant. The dinner crowd is starting to filter in, and you can see a mix of curiosity and excitement on the faces of those who recognize you.

A young woman approaches hesitantly, her phone clutched in her hand. "Excuse me," she says, her voice slightly trembling. "I'm sorry to bother you, but would it be okay if I took a picture with you both?"

Steve responds with a warm smile. "Of course, we'd be happy to."

The young woman's face lights up. "Thank you so much! I'm Emily, by the way.” She hands her phone to a nearby friend.

You and Steve position yourselves on either side of Emily, smiling warmly as her friend snaps a few photos. As Emily checks the pictures, her excitement is palpable.

"Thank you again," she says, her eyes shining. "I've been following your campaign. It's really inspiring to see people I feel like I relate to running instead of just old white men."

“Well, technically Steve’s a very old white man,” you tease.

Steve gives you a mock glare, and Emily laughs.

“No, I guess what I mean is people who seem like people and not just politicians,” she clarifies. “I felt like that about Charlie Young before, too, and so I’m glad he’s your running mate.”

Steve's expression softens. "That means a lot, Emily. What issues are most important to you in your day to day life?"

Emily takes a deep breath, considering her answer. "I'm about to age out of my parents' insurance, and I'm worried about how I'll afford coverage on my own."

You nod sympathetically. "We'd love to hear more about your perspective if you’re willing to share."

Emily glances at her friend, who nods encouragingly. "Well," she begins, "I'm 25 and I work as a teacher's assistant. The pay isn't great, and the school district doesn't offer health insurance for part-time employees. I've been looking into private plans, but they're so expensive. I have a pre-existing condition, and I'm worried about how I'll manage my healthcare costs once I'm off my parents' plan."

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concern. "We believe that access to quality, affordable healthcare is a right, not a privilege. No one should have to choose between their health and their financial stability."

You nod in agreement. "We've been hearing similar stories across the country. It's clear that our current healthcare system isn't working for many Americans, especially young people just starting their careers."

Emily smiles gratefully. "I’m not asking for hand outs - I’m working, but it needs to not feel like it’s impossible to afford to live.”

Steve nods, his expression serious. "Absolutely, Emily. You shouldn't have to struggle to afford basic necessities like healthcare while working hard and contributing to society. I want us to implement solutions that work for all Americans, not just those at the top. I think we start by simplifying the process and expand subsidies under the Affordable Care Act to make coverage more affordable for young adults and low-income workers, but next steps will involve looking to other countries who have better healthcare systems and adopting what we see is working. Detractors say that some of those other systems don’t work for everyone or they’re not perfect, but what we’ve got here isn’t much to write home about as it stands."

"And it's voices like yours that help shape our policies and remind us why this work is so important," you add.

Emily beams, clearly touched by your words. "Thank you for listening. It means a lot when I know it must be so busy for you both. Isn’t your Oprah interview airing tonight?” she asks.

“Yes, we’re just here to grab a bite and to pick up some food to take back to the campaign staff while we watch later.”

“Well, thanks again, and good luck tonight,” she says.

As Emily rejoins her friend, Jerry calls out that your order is ready. You and Steve thank him as he hands over your loaded trays.

"Enjoy your meal, folks," Jerry says with a wink. “We’ll work with your guys to load up your catering to-go boxes, y’all just enjoy.”

You and Steve thank him and then scan the bustling restaurant, looking for an open table. The dinner rush is in full swing, and most tables are already occupied. Your eyes land on a table in the corner where four men, all appearing to be in their seventies, are engaged in animated conversation over their half-eaten meals.

Steve catches your eye and nods towards the table. You both make your way over, trays in hand.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Steve says, his voice warm and friendly. "Would you mind if we joined you? Seems like all the other tables are taken."

The men look up, their eyes widening in recognition. There's a moment of stunned silence before one of them, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes, breaks into a wide grin.

"Well, I'll be damned," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of a Southern drawl. "Sure we’ve got a space for Captain America and his peach of a wife!”

As you and Steve take your seats at the table, you can feel the energy shift. The men are clearly excited, but there's also a hint of nervousness in the air.

"I'm Bill," says the man with the Southern drawl, extending his hand to Steve. "These are my buddies Tom, Frank, and Joe. We've been coming here every Sunday for the past 20 years."

Steve shakes each of their hands in turn, his smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Steve, and this is my wife," he says, introducing you by name.

You smile and greet each of the men, feeling a sense of ease settle over the table.

"So, what brings you folks to our neck of the woods?" Frank asks, leaning forward with interest. His weathered hands cradle a half-empty glass of iced tea.

"We're just looking for the best barbecue in the country," you explain, unwrapping your brisket sandwich.

The four men all laugh heartily, and you grin before you take your first bite. Your eyes widen in appreciation. “Oh, wow. This is incredible.” The meat is tender and flavorful, practically melting in your mouth.

"Best in Kansas City," Tom nods proudly. "Been coming here since I was knee-high to a grasshopper."

As you enjoy your brisket sandwich, Steve takes a bite of his burnt ends, his eyes closing it seems to fully savor that first mouthful. "This really is something special," he agrees, reaching for a napkin.

"You've got to try this," he says, holding his sandwich across to you. You smile and lean forward for a bite, letting him feed you, hoping that not all eyes are on you.

“Mmm, that’s good, too,” you hum. “But if you offered so you could try a bite of mine in return, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

This garners another round of laughter from the men along with some hoots and some ribbing, and Steve just smirks and shakes his head at you.

“I’ll share my sides, though,” you say with a teasing smile, pushing your tray closer to the middle.

Joe, who's been quietly observing until now, clears his throat. "If you don't mind me asking, Captain, what made you decide to run for office? I mean, you've already done so much for this country."

Steve sets down his sandwich, his expression thoughtful. "Well, Joe, I've always believed in serving my country, in whatever way I can. After everything that's happened in recent years, I felt like I could do more good by working within the system, trying to bring people together and address the issues that matter most to everyday Americans."

Bill nods, a wistful look in his eyes. "It's refreshing to hear, I'll tell you that. Feels like politicians these days are more concerned with having an office than serving the people and a lot of us old-timers are worried about the direction the country's headed."

Steve’s brow furrows. "I understand those concerns," he says thoughtfully. "The world is changing rapidly, and it can be unsettling. But I believe in the resilience and spirit of the American people. We've faced challenges before, and we've always come through stronger."

Bill nods slowly, a pensive look on his face. "That's true enough - and when you say it, we can believe it because we know you’ve got old experience in those bones, too. But it feels different now, doesn't it? Like we're more divided than ever."

Steve nods solemnly, wiping his hands on a napkin. "You're right, Bill. The divisions in our country are deep, and they're not going to be healed overnight. But I believe we have more in common than what separates us. We've been crisscrossing the country, meeting people and hearing their stories. We all want safe communities, good jobs, affordable healthcare, and a bright future for our children and grandchildren."

Frank leans forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That's all well and good, Captain, but how do you plan to actually bring people together? Seems like every politician says that, but nothing ever changes. It feels like people aren't even speaking the same language anymore when it comes to politics."

You take a sip of your sweet tea, watching Steve carefully as he considers his response. You can see the determination in his eyes.

Steve leans back in his chair, his eyes scanning the faces of the men around the table. The warm glow of the restaurant's lighting casts a soft hue on their weathered features, each line and wrinkle telling a story of years lived and experiences gained.

"You're right, Frank. It does feel like we're not speaking the same language anymore. But that's exactly why I'm running as an independent candidate," Steve begins, his voice calm but filled with conviction. "I'm not beholden to either the Democratic or Republican party. This isn't just about wearing a different color tie or having a different letter next to my name on the ballot. It's about fundamentally changing from a battle for political power between red and blue to calling for consensus to see action that matters to the three hundred and thirty-four million people who live in our country."

He pauses, reaching for his sweet tea. "I believe we need to start by listening to each other again," Steve continues, his eyes meeting each of the men's gazes in turn. "Really listening, not just waiting for our turn to speak. That's why we're here, sitting with you gentlemen, sharing a meal. It's why we make these stops at local businesses and community centers across the country."

You nod in agreement, swallowing a bite of your brisket sandwich before adding, "We've found that when you sit down with people, break bread together, and have real conversations, you often discover that we're not as different as the headlines make us out to be."

Tom, speaks up. "That's all well and good, but how does that translate to actual policy? How do you bridge the gap when it comes to the big issues?"

Steve leans forward, his elbows on the table. "It starts by voting for policies, not parties. When we focus on specific issues rather than partisan loyalties, we often find more common ground than we expect. For example, take healthcare. Most Americans, regardless of political affiliation, agree that healthcare costs are too high and that something needs to be done. The disagreement is usually about how to solve the problem, not whether it exists."

He pauses to take another bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "We just spoke with a young woman over there named Emily who's worried about affording health insurance. That's not a red or blue issue - that's an American issue."

Joe nods slowly. "I can relate to that. My grandson's in the same boat."

"Exactly," Steve continues. "So instead of getting bogged down in partisan debates, we need to look at what's actually working. What can we learn from other countries? What innovative solutions are individual states implementing? We need to be willing to try new approaches and admit when something isn't working."

Frank leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That sounds good in theory, Captain, but how do you get Congress to go along with that? They seem pretty set in their ways."

Steve nods, acknowledging the challenge. "You're right, Frank. Changing the culture in Washington won't be easy. But I believe the American people are ready for a different approach. If we can build a broad coalition of voters who demand bipartisan solutions, we can put pressure on Congress to work together."

"And," you add, setting down your fork, "Steve isn't just talking about compromise for the sake of compromise. It's about finding common ground and building on it. For example, both parties agree that we need to improve our infrastructure. So let's start there and create jobs while we're at it."

Bill nods slowly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I like the sound of that.”

The conversation eases from there to the two of you learning more about the four men and the lives they’ve led in Kansas while you eat. Once you’re finished - Steve having cleared both your trays when you’d had your fill of the collection - you take a picture with these men as well, and with Jerry and some of the staff by the counter before you leave.

When you and Steve step out of Arthur Bryant's, the warm evening air envelops you. The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the city streets. You can still taste the smoky flavor of the barbecue, and your stomach feels pleasantly full.

A small crowd has gathered, word having spread of your presence at the iconic barbecue joint. There's a mix of excitement and curiosity in their faces as they call out greetings and words of encouragement.

Steve pauses to shake a few hands and exchange brief words with some of the gathered people. You follow suit, touched by the warmth and genuine interest of the Kansas City residents.

"Thank you for coming to our city," an older woman says, her eyes shining. "It means a lot that you're taking the time to visit places like this."

"We're honored to be here," you reply sincerely. "Thank you for your hospitality."

As you walk towards the waiting SUV, the ever-present security detail for your public outings moves seamlessly around you, a constant reminder of the enormity of what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Steve opens the door for you. Just before you step in, you turn back to wave at the small crowd, and Steve waves at them, as well.

Inside the SUV with the door closed, the calm quiet is nice. Steve's hand finds yours again, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. "That was something, wasn’t it," he says, a contented smile on his face.

You nod in agreement. "The food was incredible, but the conversations... that's what makes these stops so special."

"It really is," Steve replies, his voice thoughtful. "Every time we do something like this, I'm reminded of why we're doing all of it. It's about the Emilys and the Bills and the Jerrys."

As the SUV pulls away from Arthur Bryant's, you both settle into a comfortable silence, processing the events of the evening. Steve's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, a now-familiar gesture that never fails to sooth you and make you feel more connected to him. "You know," he says softly, "I was thinking about what Bill said. About how things feel different now, more divided."

You turn to face him, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face. "What are you thinking?"

Steve's brow furrows slightly. "I've seen this country go through a lot of changes, faced a lot of challenges. But there's always been this... resilience, this underlying unity that pulled us through. I wonder sometimes if we've lost sight of that."

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I don't think we've lost it completely. It's still there, just buried under a lot of noise and frustration and fear. What we saw tonight - people coming together, sharing a meal, having real conversations - that's the spirit of America that's always been there."

Steve nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're right. And that’s the job now - uncover that spirit again, remind people of what we can accomplish when we work together."

You shift back to get more comfortable in your seat again, but keep holding hands as you look out the window.

"Are you nervous about the Oprah interview airing tonight?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

Steve chuckles softly. "A little," he admits. "It's one thing to have these intimate conversations with people like we just did, but knowing millions will be watching..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “And the revelation about our marriage…”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You were amazing during the interview. Honest, authentic, just like you always are. People will respond to that."

He turns to you, his blue eyes filled with warmth. "We were amazing together," he corrects gently. "You went with me when I climbed out on that limb of truth.”

“I was feeling the need to set the record straight, too,” you reassure him. “It felt like you were reading my mind.”

He lets out a breath that apparently he was holding. “I couldn't imagine doing any of this without you now."

You feel a flutter in your chest at his words. Even after all this time, he still has that effect on you. "Well, good thing you don't have to," you reply with a soft smile.

As the SUV winds its way through the Kansas City streets, you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the city lights flicker to life as evening overtakes the afternoon.

The weight of the campaign, the responsibility you've taken on, settles over you like a familiar blanket. There’s the mantle of potential presidential job ahead, but then there’s things like the motorcade. To come on this very small outing to get food, there were three SUVs - the one the two of you are riding in, one ahead, and one behind - and eight Secret Security men and women, plus two campaign staffers who had come to make sure things went smoothly in and out, pick up the food, and pay for everything, and Steve is only a candidate.

If he becomes president, it will only grow - more security, bigger motorcade, four years of responsibilities and obligations and opportunities and being scheduled every waking hour of the day.

As you contemplate the enormity of it all, Steve's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks softly, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You turn to him with a small smile. "Just thinking about how much our lives have changed. And how much more they would change if we win."

Steve nods, understanding in his eyes. "Sometimes I still can't believe we're here, doing this."

"Do you ever regret it?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Deciding to run?"

Steve is quiet for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "No," he says finally, his voice firm. "It's not easy, and there are days when I feel the weight of it more than others. But then I think about the people we meet all day, every day.”

“Your big heart is a sucker for people,” you tease him good-naturedly. “If only you were more surly and selfish.”

Steve chuckles at your teasing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're right, I am a sucker for people. But you're no better, Mrs. Rogers."

As you continue to banter, the SUV turns onto a tree-lined street in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The sun has fully set now, and the warm glow of streetlights illuminates rows of well-maintained houses. Each home seems to tell its own story - some with Halloween decorations already adorning their porches, others with children's bicycles left haphazardly on front lawns.

The SUV slows to a stop in front of a charming two-story house with pale yellow siding and white trim. A wrap-around porch extends across the front, complete with a porch swing gently swaying in the evening breeze. The lawn is neatly manicured, with vibrant flower beds lining the walkway.

"Home sweet home, at least for tonight," Steve says with a smile as he opens the car door. “Tell me you’re just as eager as I am to meet Jake’s family.”

“I’ve been dying of curiosity ever since we found out!” You step out of the car, walking quickly up the front sidewalk.

No one knew Jake’s sister lived in Kansas with her husband and four kids until Elsa brought up whether the team should watch the interview together at the hotel or in groups in a few of the suites when Jake said that wouldn’t be necessary - that his baby sister had insisted she wanted to host the full traveling staff in her home for it.

As you approach the front door, it swings open before you can knock. A petite woman with Jake's same dark brown eyes and infectious smile emerges, her face beaming with excitement.

"Welcome! I'm Kathy, Jake's sister," she says, extending her hand. "It's such an honor to have you both here."

Steve shakes her hand warmly. "The honor is ours, Kathy. We can’t thank you for opening your home to us."

You follow suit, greeting Kathy with a smile. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Kathy ushers you inside, where the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the scent of coffee, and the rest of your team begins to file in behind you. The living room is cozy and inviting, with overstuffed couches and chairs arranged to face a large flat-screen TV. Campaign staff members are already scattered around the room, chatting animatedly and nibbling on chips and cookies.

The house is alive with domestic energy, a stark contrast to the usual hotel suites and conference rooms you've grown accustomed to. Children's laughter echoes from somewhere upstairs, and you can hear the distant chatter of voices coming from what you assume is the kitchen.

Kathy's husband, a tall man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, emerges from the dining room. "I'm Tom," he introduces himself, shaking your hands. "We've set up a spot in the dining room for the barbecue spread.”

“Sorry for descending on you with all this chaos, Tom,” Steve apologizes.

“Oh, please, we’ve got four kids from four to sixteen, this is hardly new for us. Bring this kind of feast and you’re welcome any night of the week,” he insists.

Steve heads through to the dining room with Tom, but you make your way to the kitchen instead. Your eyes land on Bucky who’s in close conversation with campaign spokesperson Lisa and one of the new speechwriters.

They look up when they notice you.

“Where’s Sophia?” you ask. You don’t need her in this moment, but you’re so used to her finding you whenever you arrive at a new location if she isn’t already with you that it’s strange you haven’t seen her yet.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Bucky informs you, “She’s out on the back porch with Sam.”

You raise an eyebrow in surprise and ask, “Alone?”

Bucky just smiles slyly and confirms your suspicions - he's trying to play matchmaker. You had wondered if you were only being hopeful at seeing signs of a potential spark between them, and now you’re glad it wasn’t only you seeing things happening there.

“Hang on,” Lisa slams her water bottle down on the counter. “Sam and Sophia?”

Bucky nods, “Mhmm.”

“No! Not yet!” she blusters. “We’re still three weeks out from election day! This is your first campaign, Barnes, so believe me when I tell you we need to avoid as many campaign crushes coming together as we can for at least another week - two if we can manage it - if we want to keep this operation running like a well-oiled machine! We want people pining as long as we can, not working through the awkward is this crush lasting after the campaign phase in the final days.” And with that, Lisa’s already rushing out of the kitchen, no doubt on her way to need something from one of them.

You shake your head, amused by Lisa’s reaction. As much as you understand her perspective from a campaign management standpoint, you can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Sam and Sophia. After all, you know exactly how difficult it is to navigate feelings in the midst of such an intense, all-consuming experience.

But you wonder how Lisa’s timeline translates to you and Steve because this isn’t a campaign crush? You’re married to the someone you’re building a relationship with on the campaign trail.

Because you have developed strong, deep feelings for Steve. You know they’re real. You know he has feelings for you. You’ve said things to each other indicating you both know this isn’t only a marriage to have a President and potential First Lady campaigning for the White House any more. But what are the next steps, and is there a too soon to take them on the campaign trail? The past week has been wonderful, spending time so effortlessly together as you can, routinely sitting right next to each other without question, holding hands, Steve’s arms often around your shoulders. There hadn’t been more kissing like your night alone in Brooklyn, but there had been more chaste kisses exchanged, and easily.

In a matter of hours things would fundamentally shift given what the rest of the world was going to learn about your marriage from the interview, so it would probably be smart to maintain whatever you were now and ride out whatever the fallout might end up being, and not add any more complexity to the situation.

“She’s right,” the other woman in the room says, bringing your attention back to the moment with Bucky and the speechwriter. “I’ve seen so many campaign crushes peak too soon, and it’s painful to watch,” she laughs - but do you detect it’s a little nervously?

Jake enters the kitchen with a broad smile.

"You made it here!" he exclaims. "I see you've met the family. What do you think of my little sister's humble abode, Mrs. Rogers?"

You return his smile warmly. "It's lovely so far. Your sister and her husband really are so great to host all of us."

Jake chuckles. "Yeah, Kathy's always been like that. Heart of gold. You should see her at Thanksgiving - she insists on inviting every stray and lonely soul in the neighborhood."

You arch an eyebrow. “Jake, I have this suspicion there’s a big softie under your campaign manager persona to rival your sister.”

“Sure, of course,” he admits, “but people can’t know I have a marshmallow heart up front. When the staff are afraid and want to impress me, they set the bar high and only keep climbing from there.” He points at the Bucky and the speechwriter, “I will deny it if you spread that nasty rumor.”

You all laugh.

“Will you two make the rounds?” Jake looks at Bucky and the speechwriter. “Let people know dinner’s up and that I need to talk to everyone about five minutes before the interview starts to air? Living room.”

Jake's request sends the other two off, leaving you alone with him in the kitchen. He turns to you with a more serious expression.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, his voice lowered. "Big night."

You take a deep breath, considering your answer. "I'm okay. A little nervous, I guess. It's one thing to do the interview, but now that it’s done but finally going to be out there for better or worse..."

Jake nods understandingly. "It's natural to feel that way. But I want you to know, you and Steve both knocked it out of the park. The footage I've seen is powerful stuff."

You feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach. "Thanks, Jake. That means a lot."

"And I do mean it," he continues, leaning against the counter. "You know I don’t get paid to bullshit anyone. The honesty, the vulnerability... it's exactly what people need to see right now.”

You smile gratefully at Jake's reassurance. "I just hope the public sees it that way."

Jake nods confidently. "They will. Look, I've been in this game a long time, and I've rarely seen candidates connect with people the way you and Steve do. This interview is just going to reinforce that."

As you're about to respond, Steve enters the kitchen, a plate of barbecue in hand. "There you are," he says, smiling warmly at you. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

Jake straightens up, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Just giving your wife a little pep talk before the big show," he says with a wink. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit. Don't forget, living room in about fifteen minutes."

As Jake exits, Steve moves closer to you, setting his plate down on the counter. You grin, familiar now with how much food the super soldier can pack away.

"You okay?" Steve asks softly, his blue eyes searching your face.

You nod, grin softening to a smaller smile. "Jake says we’ll be fine, but I can’t help a few nerves still."

Steve reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "We're in this together. Whatever happens, we face it as a team."

His touch and words calm you, as they always do now. You squeeze his hand back. "You're right."

Steve smiles, then glances at his plate of barbecue. "Want to help me out with some of this?"

You laugh, eyeing the heaping plate. "No way. I’m saving the small bit of room I’ve got for one of Kathy’s cookies."

The two of you chat with campaign staffers as they filter in and out of the kitchen and Tom and Kathy - who comes through with a plate of her cookies - until it’s time to congregate in the living room.

Once everyone is packed in on all the furniture, extra chairs that have been brought in, and even some pillows and cushions on spots of the floor, its crowded but cozy, and it seems like it would be wrong to have any of the team in the other room for a night like this.

Jake stands in front of the tv - which is already on but muted until the interview goes live - and clears his throat. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to him. The excitement in the air is palpable, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation.

"Alright, team," Jake begins, his voice carrying across the crowded living room. "Before we dive into the interview, I've got some news to share." He pauses, building the suspense, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I just got off the phone with our polling team," he continues, his eyes scanning the room. "We have official data as of an hour ago, and I've got to say, the numbers are looking good. Really good."

A murmur of excitement ripples through the group. You feel Steve's hand tighten around yours, his body tensing slightly beside you.

Jake holds up his hands, calling for quiet. "Now, I don't want anyone getting ahead of themselves, but..." he pauses again before his face breaks into a wide smile. "Our latest poll shows that Steve has gained four points in the last week alone. This puts the Rogers-Young ticket just three points behind our closest competitor."

The room erupts in cheers and applause. You see Sam clap Bucky on the back, both men grinning ear to ear. Campaign staffers high-five each other, their faces beaming with excitement. You feel a surge of elation course through you, and you turn to Steve, who's wearing an expression of disbelief and joy.

“However,” Jake cuts into the celebrations, “no one can coast, especially after tonight. In tonight’s interview, Captain and Mrs. Rogers shared some information about their relationship that is going to dramatically shift public perception of their marriage. There are about a dozen people who already know, and I’m going to tell you now so that you have the next twenty minutes or so to wrap your head around how you’re own reaction.”

The nervous excitement in the room turned to trepidation within less than a second.

Jake continues, “There’s superstitions - or expectations - that there’s always some type of news that will break weeks or days before an election that has a significant impact on the narrative of the campaigns for public perception and tip the scales for who wins - it’s called the October Surprise. This might be it.”

You hold your breath and Steve holds tightly to your hand.

“Some of you have idly asked questions or made comments about the Rogers’ quick engagement and marriage and accepted the statement that they realized if they were going to get married, they needed to do it before the filing deadline to officially get Steve on the ballot. Others have noticed and wondered why we always book them separate rooms. I said the directive to our advance coordinator came from me, that it simplified things if one of them had an earlier departure time than the other.

“The truth is,” Jake explains, “that I said Captain Rogers needed a wife if we were going to have any chance of winning with him running as a third-party candidate without a prior political career. Theirs was a politically arranged marriage, and they met the day of their wedding.”

There are gasps and murmurs immediately around the room.

“I know you will have questions. Elsa is giving the same news to our team back at campaign HQ in DC,” Jake says. “I’d like everyone to watch the interview before you ask any questions or make any statements or decisions. If you’re in this room, I’m betting you’re giving your blood, sweat, and tears for more than the semantics around their marriage, and I think what you’ll learn from their conversation with Oprah will answer most of your questions. Deal?”

There’s still some tension in the air, but the consensus is there.

“Then, here we go,” Jake says. “Remember, as with everything else on this campaign, only Lisa makes statements on behalf of the campaign, and that includes texts from your family and friends who want an inside scoop from you tonight while they watch with the rest of America.”

The television is taken off mute, and within moments, the program begins.

Watching the interview is an out of body experience. You remember every moment, reliving it as it plays out on screen. The ninety minutes seem to stretch on forever, and yet when it’s all over and done, it feels like it can’t have been more than five minutes.

Everyone says it went well. You think it went well. Steve feels like it went well. The team has a few questions - mostly for Jake about strategy and messaging moving forward. Steve says he’s more than willing to answer questions, but Mike - one of the policy advisors - seems to speak for everyone when he says, "I think we're good, Cap. We all probably need some time to fully process this, but the interview spoke for itself. You two were honest and open. I'm still 100% behind this campaign and what you stand for.”

There are nods and murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team. The tension that had filled the room earlier has dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

Jake claps his hands together. "Alright, team. Let's all get some rest and we'll regroup in the morning. Elsa and Peter have already been working on strategy ahead of tonight, and they and Lisa will already be working tonight and with the first wave of morning shows bright and early. Dump questions and thoughts into the Slack workspace to your directors as needed or straight to me. We’ll meet in the morning discuss our next phase and handling the positive and negative reactions we expect moving forward."

As the group begins to disperse, you and Steve make your way to Kathy and Tom to thank them for their hospitality.

"It was our pleasure," Kathy says warmly, pulling you both into a hug. "We're honored to have been a part of this night."

Tom nods in agreement. "You're welcome back anytime you’re in Kansas. And for what it's worth, I think you two make a great team, arranged marriage or not."

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thank you, Tom. That means a lot."

Behind them, there’s a smaller TV on behind them, muted, but showing pundits already discussing the interview.

Jake approaches. "The SUV is ready when you are," he says. "I've arranged for you to have a later start tomorrow morning. I figure you both could use some extra rest after tonight."

Steve nods gratefully. "Thanks, Jake. We appreciate it."

Sam, Bucky, and Sophia are all with you and Steve on the ride back to the hotel.

There are six or eight of your team who arrived ahead of you, and you cross paths with them on the way to the hotel bar. They invite the five of you to join them, when you meet Steve’s eyes, you can see he’s feeling as drained you, and so the two of you encourage everyone else to go and make your excuses to go upstairs.

In the elevator, Steve drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side. You melt into him, wrapping both arms around his strong chest, and inhale his scent - smiling at the tinge of barbecue smoke that mingled in and still lingers from earlier in the day.

As the elevator rises, you feel the tension of the evening finish melting away. The warmth of Steve's body against yours is comforting, and you allow yourself to fully relax into his embrace.

"What a night," Steve murmurs, his voice rumbling in his chest.

You nod against him. "I still can't believe we actually did it. Told the whole world."

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor. Steve keeps his arm around you as you walk down the hallway to your rooms. When you reach your door, you both pause, and he moves away from you just enough to clearly look at you.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his blue eyes searching your face.

You take a moment to consider the question. "Relieved, I think. And a little scared. But mostly... hopeful?"

Steve nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I feel the same way. The weight has been lifted, but now we're stepping into uncharted territory."

You lean against the door frame, looking up at him. "No more hiding, no more pretending. It's all out there now."

"For better or worse," Steve agrees, his eyes never leaving yours.

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. You move to close the gap between you, cup your hand around his neck, and press your lips to his. There’s heat in the kiss, but it’s soft, warm, promising.

The kiss deepens as Steve's arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. You sink into his embrace, fingers threading through his hair, falling further into the kiss.

When you finally part, you're both a little breathless. Steve rests his forehead against yours, a soft smile on his lips. "I've been wanting to do that all day," he murmurs.

You can't help but smile back. "Me too."

For a moment, you both just stand there, savoring the closeness. Then reality creeps back in - you're still in the hallway of a hotel, with your security details positioned nearby, trying to be as discreet as they can in a long hallway which translates to almost zero discreetness.

Steve seems to realize this too. He straightens up, though he keeps one arm around your waist. "We should both get some sleep," he says, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You nod, but don't release your hold on him. "Probably," you agree.

For another moment, neither of you moves, but then you hear the elevator ding again at the end of the hallway and break apart as it opens, a few staffers stepping out.

As the staffers approach, you and Steve exchange a look that speaks volumes. The moment has passed, but the lingering warmth remains.

You exchange a few words and offer polite nods as they pass by. Once they're out of earshot, you turn back to Steve with a small, almost shy smile.

"Goodnight, Steve," you say softly, reaching for your room key.

He catches your hand gently before you can insert the key, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Goodnight," he murmurs against your skin.

With one last lingering look, Steve reluctantly lets go of your hand and steps back. You slip into your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Leaning against it, you take a deep breath, your heart still racing from the kiss and the intensity of Steve's gaze.

You move through your nightly routine on autopilot, your mind still buzzing. As you climb into bed, you can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. The world knows the truth now, and there's no telling how they'll react.

But as you drift off to sleep, it was such a good day that you find yourself feeling more excited than anxious.

Twelve hours later, you would not believe how wrong you were.

next part: coming 12/27

I gave you a little calm before the storm.

Plus some seeds of Sam & Sophia! 🥰

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[oikarma]

left my message!

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

summary: you’ve heard about the legend but you’re not quite prepared to meet him in real life.

a/n: first part is like a smau companion i guess? but this is the actual interaction which makes the twt posts make more sense!! 

part one / two

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

two days ago

you still can’t believe it. the paddock pass is smooth under your hands, so smooth it might just slip out and away. you’ve never been so close before, despite having watched many of the races on a grainy screen or far, far up into the grandstands. it didn’t make sense, really. when you were younger, your mother disapproved of flouncing around just to go to a racetrack—she certainly wouldn’t accompany you, with the engines roaring past, when your music on 70% volume was already deafening to her. but now, early decisions had come out, very much in your favor. mother was pleased, and that left you to go wherever you wished over easter.

so you’re here, standing in the ferrari paddock. it’s a gift on both guanyu and your brother’s part, flying you out at last minute’s notice when charles’s surgery was confirmed. an extremely generous gift you’re not sure you can repay anytime soon. it makes you feel a bit guilty, until you see how happy both of them are to see you. with college applications, you haven’t had much time to facetime your brother—he was overseas working—and the same went for guanyu. late family reunion, you decide. 

lando walks pass the ferrari garage and waves at you. it turned out you had rooms on the same floor after bumping into each other in the elevator. it wasn’t the first time you’d met him: you’d been present at a few of his karting competitions when you were younger. you weren’t “friends,” you’d argue, but you’d talked enough to be good acquaintances. he was also a familiar face in the uk. that is, before he moved to monaco. 

you grin at lando and turn back to guanyu, inside the garage. he’s trembling, even though his smile is wide and back is straight. charles has done well this season, and lewis is in the other seat. of course he would be nervous. you still remember how he sobbed when sauber released the news. formula one was the pinnacle of motorsports. being there was an achievement in itself, anyone knew. but when you were constantly outperformed by other drivers in other cars, it was hard to keep track of the fact.

you place a hand on his arm. “hey, you good?”

“yeah, i’m fine.” he reaches out for a one-handed hug. “glad to see you here. just a bit different from last year.”

“hey, come on. this is for everyone here for you. seeing you race is enough.”

zhou massages his temple. “what if it’s not? i don’t want to disappoint them again.”

“you won’t. your practice times are great! and if people think they do, they should try driving themselves.” you squeeze his hand. “where’s my brother? let him talk some sense into you.”

to that, he laughs. “oh, he did. told me that i should be happy i get the opportunity to drive and i think he’s right.”

you wince. sounds a bit harsh, but you know your brother means well.

“yeah, he usually is. probably a bit salty that he’s not a driver, too. but g’luck out there, okay? don’t crash.”

“i’ll try.” 

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

one day ago

once the sprint is over, you can tell a weight has been lifted off his back. fourth is great. fourth is amazing. max leads in first, lewis in second, lando in third, and guanyu in fourth. it’s not a shabby place in a lineup like that. points have been scored for ferrari and everyone is all smiles when they come to congratulate him.

lewis pats him on the back. “good to see you out there, zhou.”

“thanks. nice work today.” his data analyst taps him on the shoulder and guanyu is being led away. he waves goodbye at you.

the brit turns to you and offers a hand. “hamilton, lewis hamilton. i don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”

lewis! hamilton! is shaking your hand! meeting lando is less crazy because you’ve seen mini him stumbling off the track. but this is seven-time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. his braids are sleek and he’s perfectly polished: glowing, even. it should be illegal to stand around in a half-zipped race suit.

you shake his hand, making sure your grip is strong because your father said that’s the way to make an impression. “i’m yn. i’m guanyu’s friend.”

“oh, i see. you watch racing, much? i suppose you do.”

“yeah. he got me into it and i never stopped.”

lewis gives you a coy smile. “tell me, who’s your favorite driver?” he leans against one of the floating tables.

“i hate to break it to you, but it’s max.” 

his eyes widen dramatically. he teases, “oh dear, we’re starting off on the wrong foot already.”

“if it makes you feel any better, i meant current driver.”

“okay, okay. no restrictions. favorite driver of all time?”

“kimi.” 

he raises a thoughtful eyebrow. “you seem to have a type.”

“so who’s yours?” and you want to hit yourself right there because you just asked lewis hamilton who his favorite driver is. stupid, stupid, stupid. it’s probably senna. he’s too polite to say himself and you think you’ve heard that somewhere before.

“senna.”

bingo! quite the genius, you are. it’s hard to think around him, so that’s practically twice the achievement.

lewis sees your smile and asks, “why, do i have something on my face?”

“oh, no. i was thinking.”

“...about? nevermind, i won’t pry. tell me, yn, what else do you like to do?”

how conversational. if he does this one more time you might be convinced you’re friends. he’s probably just bored. 

“sorry, excuse me?” you see a couple of fans outside the garage. the pit lane tour guide is surprised to see lewis still there. “could we get a few photos, please?”

lewis turns to you, surprisingly apologetic. “see you around?”

“alright.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

(a/n: 1st of the convo is post-meeting lewis & 2nd part is post-gp)

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 20)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

- - - - -

I snatch my bookbag as I hurry out of my bedroom and down the hall. If I want to avoid having this conversation, I've got to make my rush look convincing!

"Hey, sweetheart," Dad says when he sees me enter the living room. "What's the big hurry? You've got plenty of time before school starts!"

"Y-yeah, I know," I say, trying the handle to the front door of our apartment. It's locked. "I just wanted to get there early to catch up some more with Brittney."

Dad chuckles. "Well, if you leave this early, you're still going to be waiting for the school to open when you get there!"

"Not a problem! I'm fine with that," I say as I turn the lock on the door and open it.

"Kaylin, come now. It's far too early to be leaving for school. You haven't even had— Aah!" he flinches when two golden brown slices of bread arise from the toaster with a sudden pop.

I can't help but smile. Dad's generally pretty fearless, often to the point of being reckless. Seeing him get scared by some toast is so out of character that I can't help but laugh.

Dad clears his throat and pushes up his glasses. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he says, eyeing the toast, "you haven't even had any breakfast. Come on, I'll make you some toast."

I look between Dad and the door. If I stay, he's sure to want to pick up where we left off last night. Talking about school is the last thing I want to do! Yet the more I stand here, the more the emptiness in my gut begs me to eat something. Heaving a sigh, I set down my bookbag and close the door.

"So," Dad begins in a tone that can only begin to hint at all the questions he must have for me. "How are you feeling about school?"

"It's... okay," I say as I sit myself down at the kitchen table, trying to bury any complex feelings I have about the whole 'being completely blindsided by your own dad and sent to a school full of the very people you live in fear of' thing.

"Just okay?" he asks, looking back at me as he butters the toast. "You seemed pretty eager to head out the door just a second ago."

"Yeah, well... it's complicated." I say, turning my eyes to the table. "There's things I like, and... things I don't."

Dad hums in response, smothering an already buttery slice of toast with what looks to be enough raspberry jam for two separate slices. "Well, what sorts of things do you like about school?"

I move my jaw from side to side, growing more frustrated the harder I try to think of something about Pacific that I actually like that won't result in Dad bombarding me with more and more questions. I like talking with Brittney, and in spite of my fear I actually somewhat like being Derrick's deskmate— although I'd rather not be surrounded by other pertheans at school. Whenever a perthean student speaks up or even coughs in class, it sends shivers down my spine! And I really like being friends with Derrick, but I can't help but wish he was human. If he were human, I wouldn't be so terrified of him. I hate that I'm still scared of him, because I really do value the friendship we've been developing over the past few weeks.

"How about your friends?" Dad asks, setting a plate of toast in front of me. "Didn't you say you'd been hanging out with your deskmate?"

A knot forms in my core. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.

"Y-yeah," I say, hoping he'll drop the topic if I respond.

Dad pulls up a chair across from me. "Why don't you tell me about your deskmate? Darren, right?"

"D-Derrick," I correct him.

"Right. Why don't you tell me about him? What's he like?" Dad asks, propping his head onto his hands like a teenage girl at a slumber party waiting to hear the latest gossip.

I try to keep a straight face, but a chuckle escapes me. Dad never ceases to surprise me!

"U-um, well, he's... nice," I start. "We both like Aven Gem games like Flower Town, and we both have FlexPads."

Dad nods, encouraging me to continue.

"He likes to study languages, and he's really good at Koronian," I say. "I think he wants to teach English in North Eris one day."

"That's nice. He sounds like a good kid," Dad says. "So what do the two of you usually do together?"

My heart sinks, and blood drains from my face. How am I supposed to answer that? Should I tell him Derrick is helping me with my fear? No, that'll be a huge win for him for sure!

I don't know why, but when I think about Dad hearing positive things about my experience at Pacific, I can't help but imagine him giving himself a huge pat on the back. I can't let him win this one, not when he lied to me about the move and completely blindsided me by enrolling me in this school. Even if I got lucky with Derrick, sending me to Pacific was still a terrible idea, and I'm not about to let Dad take the credit for what Derrick and I have been accomplishing.

"Well, we've studied together. We also just... um... talk," I say.

"Hm. And what sorts of things do you talk about?" Dad asks.

"Uh... j-just about anything! School, video games, movies..."

"And does he know about your fear?"

Why is he cornering me like this? Why is he so desperate to pry into this area of my life?

"Does it matter?" I retort, turning my attention to the toast in front of me and taking a bite. There's too much jam, but it tastes good mixed with the butter, so I don't mind.

Dad leans back in his chair. "Whether or not you tell him about your fear is up to you, but I think it would benefit the two of you to be on the same page."

I remain silent, taking another bite of toast.

"Do you plan on telling him?" Dad asks.

My insides twist as I look down, searching for the right thing to say. I come up empty.

Dad leans forward. "Does he already know?"

"Dad, I... I don't want to talk about this anymore." I manage, setting down my toast and clenching my jaw. Why is he doing this?

Dad sighs. "I get it, I do. Being at this school isn't easy for you. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, okay?"

"But you don't get it, Dad!" I hiss, standing up and planting my hands on the table. "You've never had a fear like mine! That's why you thought you could just send me to a school like Pacific and make me get over it!"

"That's not true," Dad says, crossing his arms.

"You want a quick fix for something that's plagued me all my life, but I can't get over my fear if I'm drowning in it," I utter, my voice cracking. "If you really cared, you'd leave me alone instead of throwing me to the wolves!"

Eyes glazing over, I turn and march toward the front door, leaving Dad behind at the kitchen table.

"Kaylin," Dad says, his tone growing more serious. "I don't want a quick fix for you or to throw you to the wolves. It's because I care about you that I want you to grow!"

"Forcing me to be around pertheans isn't going to undo what I saw!" I yell, slamming the door behind me as I exit the apartment.

My vision blurs as I head down the hall, and I blink away the tears that try to form. Dad's ignorance about my fear drives me up the wall! He knows what I saw and what I had to go through because of it, and he still thinks I can just get over it like an old habit!

The elevator door opens when I press the call button, and I sigh as I step inside. What am I going to do?

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

I let out a yawn as I wander down Seren Avenue, my eyelids still drooping from a lack of sleep. Why did I have to get up so early?

I gaze at the skylights above me, hoping the undercity's artificial lighting will be enough to help keep me awake. The screens display flowering trees reaching up towards a cloudy sky. Back in Maedri, the skylights displayed cherry blossoms during the springtime. Although the trees on these skylights do have some flowers, they're mostly filled with green leaves that pale in comparison to the beautiful shades of pink I'm used to seeing at the start of each year. I miss those old skylights. I miss Maedri.

I amble through the undercity, eyes fixed on the nature scene above. That's when something bumps into me from behind.

"Ah—! I'm sorry!" the boy behind me utters. His black hair and wide green eyes are all too familiar, and I immediately recognize the green blazer he's wearing as being from Pacific.

"Oh," he says, his eyes suddenly narrowing as his voice deepens. "It's just you."

"Y-yeah. Sam, right?" I ask.

He nods.

"This is the second time you've bumped into me. Don't you usually wear glasses?" I ask. "You'd be able to see where you're going with them on."

Sam's face reddens as he turns his gaze to the floor. "I... I look cooler without them."

"You should at least wear contacts so you can—" I start, only to be cut off by Sam weaving around me and running off. "Hey!"

I run after him, and am nearly out of breath by the time I catch up with him.

"Can I help you?" he asks flatly.

"Can I ask you something?"

He sighs, not even stopping or turning to face me. "I guess."

"Why are you always speeding off? Did I do something wrong?" I ask.

"That's two questions," he states, annoyed.

"Sorry."

"Look," he says, finally turning his head back to address me. "I'm not great with people, okay? I prefer to be alone."

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" I ask, my curiosity growing.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" he stumbles over his words before letting out another sigh. "I have my own reasons for going."

I suppose Pacific looks good on university applications, being a private school and all.

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" he turns the question back to me.

"I-I... well, sort of. My dad made me go."

"Ugh. My parents made me go, too."

"I thought you had your own reasons for going," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"I—! I do! It's just... since we moved here from Erimathea, they wanted to make sure I was... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" I ask.

"You know, to the whole... different sizes thing," he states.

"I guess it's sort of the same for me," I say. "I've lived most of my life in the undercity, so I've never really been around pertheans. It's... a difficult adjustment."

"It can be hard," Sam says, focusing on the path ahead of us. "And on top of that, I can't really talk to anyone about it without looking like I have something against pertheans."

"Tell me about it," I huff. "And the weirdest part is that other humans get so defensive when you tell them you're afraid of pertheans. They act like we're making us all look bad or something."

Sam stops dead in his tracks, nearly causing me to bump into him. "What did you just say?" he asks, turning around slowly.

Wait, what did I just say?! Did I let myself carelessly spill my biggest secret to some near stranger?!

"Uh—! I—!" I stutter, backing up from the boy in front of me.

"Did you just say you have—"

"I have to go!" I blurt out before darting around Sam and continuing toward the school.

"Wait!"

Something in me gives in, and I come to a slow stop a few yards in front of Sam. What am I doing? He's just going to tell me off!

A moment of silence passes us by. It dares me to turn around and face the boy behind me, but I can't.

"I... I thought I was the only one," he finally says.

I spin around. "W-what?" I ask, confusion setting in as I ponder what he could possibly mean. "The only one who...?"

"The only one who had... a fear," he finishes.

My eyes widen, and I take a few steps toward Sam. "You mean... you have a fear, too?"

He sighs, looking off to the side before returning his gaze to me. "Didn't I just say that?"

"I've never met anyone else with a fear of pertheans," I whisper as questions begin to flood my mind.

"Neither have I," he says, shifting in place.

"Have you ever told anyone?" I ask.

Sam cranes his neck back and stares at the skylights. "My parents know... and that only resulted in some pretty useless therapy."

"Useless, huh?" I say as we continue our walk.

"Yeah, all they really tell you in therapy is to expose yourself to your fears and hope things improve."

"I guess I had the same experience. My dad always says things will improve with exposure and time. I think he stole that line from my old therapist. I was too young to remember most of what she taught me," I say, rubbing one arm.

"So you struggled as a kid?"

"Yeah... when they started mixing humans and pertheans back in stage two, I would often have panic attacks at school," I cringe as my mind fills with unwanted memories. "The others would call me 'Kaylin Flinch,' or 'Flinching Finch.'"

"Kids can be brutal," Sam sighs.

"Yeah. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you had a fear?"

Sam narrows his eyes. "Since around the time I moved here, right before stage four. I tried a few different schools to see if exposure could help. Some were mixed, some were not. But no amount of exposure ever really helped."

I shift my gaze to the floor. What if Dad is wrong? Not that I want him to have something he can gloat about, but what if exposure and time aren't the keys to getting over my fear of pertheans? What if all the time I'm spending with Derrick after school isn't going to help me after all?

Sam stops, so I stop too. I look up, and above us is the sign for Pacific, dimly lit and weathered as usual. It's odd how something can decay like that when it's underground, completely unexposed to the elements of the surface world.

I look at Sam, and immediately, something feels off. The softness in his eyes has all but disappeared, and his posture is oddly stiff. I can't quite explain it, but there seems to be some kind of odd, dark energy emanating from him. I take a step back.

"Sam?" I try.

He opens the door to the school's lobby. "I have to go," he mumbles.

"So soon? We can at least walk out to the pick-up balcony together—"

"No," he interrupts, clutching the strap of his bookbag. "I-I'll... I'll see you later."

With that, he scurries off across the room and up a creepy old stairwell. Those stairs lead to the school's human hallways just like the elevators do, but I've never seen anyone take them. I sigh and enter an opening elevator with some other students. Will I ever understand this guy?

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

Taking a deep breath, I close my locker and adjust the strap of my bookbag. I haven't seen Sam since he managed to scurry off again, and something tells me I'm not going to for a while, no matter how curious I am about what's going on in his head. I thought it'd be nice to have a friend who understands what having a fear is like, but I don't imagine this guy really wants anything to do with me.

The balcony is crowded as usual, and I'm surprised when I see Derrick standing beside it. Usually, I have to search for a while to pick him out of the perthean crowd. Kevin is standing beside him with Brittney on his shoulder. A smile spreads across my face, and I hurry over to the group.

"It's good that you came back in spite of all that," Kevin says to Derrick.

"I'll still never forgive that jerk for what he did to you, though!" Brittney huffs.

I stop. What are they talking about? My heart races as I look around me for some place to hide. I decide to hide at the end of the balcony, where there's a perthean-sized plant of some kind, with long green leaves that are tall enough to keep me hidden. I just hope nobody peers around the plant and sees me!

"I'm sure he didn't withdraw just to hurt me," Derrick whispers. "It was complicated."

Wait, is he talking about his previous deskmate? The one he said had moved away?

"Well, whatever the reason, he had no right to just abandon you," Brittney says. "You two were the talk of the school for weeks after you both left!"

Derrick shuffles. "I know, but—"

"And now that you're back, people are starting to wonder if something's going to happen to Kaylin," Brittney says.

People are talking about Derrick and I? Whatever for?! What could possibly happen to me that would cause me to withdraw?

What did Derrick do to his old deskmate?!

Before I have much of a chance to think, something pulls me up into the air by the back of my blazer! My gut twists and churns, and what little breakfast I managed to get down threatens to reappear. The room spins as I kick and scream, hoping to get away from whoever snatched me up without so much as a warning.

I gaze beside me and realize my mistake when I see that Derrick, Brittney, and Kevin are all looking in my direction with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room.

"Cherryn! Calm down! It's just me!" bellows a deep feminine voice above me as I'm placed onto a warm, leathery surface. "Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out! I won't do it again!"

My heart pounds a thousand times a minute as I look up into a pair of soft brown eyes. They widen when they meet my gaze.

"O-oh my gosh...! You're not Cherryn! I'm so sorry!" the girl apologizes as the hand beneath me begins to shake.

"Kaylin!" calls a familiar voice.

I turn around, arms glued to my trembling frame, and breathe a sigh of relief to see my deskmate approaching.

Wait, Derrick?! What if he realizes I was eavesdropping? Won't he be mad at me?

I quake like a leaf in a windstorm as I'm transferred from one pair of cupped hands to another, the muffled voices overhead conversing as I continue to worry about so many things at once. What's going to happen to me? Can I really trust Derrick?

"Hey," Derrick whispers, bringing the cupped hands I'm in closer to his face. "Are you alright?"

I stare into his eyes with uncertainty. I was starting to feel so sure around Derrick, but now? What am I supposed to think?

"I-I..." I start, reaching up to my face as warm tears begin to fall. "I don't know."

Derrick's brows turn upward, and his eyes soften. "Don't worry. You will be," he says, gently stroking my shoulder with his thumb. "Come on, let's go to class."

[eldizzle69]

“Sharing a bed with their lover”

masterlist

including :: Frostheim

—Jin Kamurai

•Jin likes having you close by, but also doesn’t like to leave his room. Therefore you basically moved into his room at this point

•Jin is actually a big softly and nice guy under his asshole exterior so I see him as a cuddler

•Be prepared to be squished against his chest all night because you’re not moving from his arms.

•Jin also sleeps a LOT so prepare to not do anything till he wakes up.

•I see him as being very warm, so you have your own personal heater basically attached to you.

A grown left Jin as he slowly opened his eyes. Only to met with the fabric of your pajamas. His arms were tightly around you, while his face was buried in your chest.

“Morning sleepy head,” you hummed carding your hands through his messy white hair. Jin only tightened his arms around you, bringing you impossibly closer.

“Should I go get us breakfast?” You hummed and Jin sent you a glare. “Shut up,” he muttered into your chest with no bite behind his words.

“Mmmm Kay,” you hummed resuming playing with his hair, while also pressing a kiss onto his head, “…you can sleep a little longer but I still have class Jin.”

“Skip it “

—Tohma Ishibashi

•I feel like Tohma has a very good sleep schedule, so prepare to conform to that.

•I don’t see him as a big cuddler, like I don’t think he minds but I also don’t see him initiating much cuddles.

•he’s gonna tease you a good bit if you’re nervous or shy so just be prepared for that.

•mature adulty mc pants isn’t nervous what so ever.

• the way he interacts you would think your a 50 year old married couple who have been sharing a bad for years.

“Tough day?” You hummed looking up from your book. You were already showered and neatly tucked into bed, while Tohma was just coming out of the shower.

“Not any tougher than the usual day,” he hummed climbing into bed next to you. “You seemed to finish early today?” He shot back and you smiled, “Romeo was feeling generous.”

He merely smiled at that. You slid your book onto the night stand and suck further into the blankets. Tohma turned the only lamp in the room off, leaving you two in pure darkness.

“Mmm night Tohma…”

“Good night dear”

—Lucas Errant

•I think Lucas would be shyer about sharing a bed with their lover.

•He’s very by the book so sharing a bed seems like a very intimate act for him so he’s a little shy about it

•he keeps his hands and limbs to himself and worries if he’ll make you uncomfortable if he’s too close

•expect apologies and awkward shifting from him.

•if there’s gonna be any cuddling it’s gonna be from you.

“S-sorry,” Luca said and quickly retracted his hand that had brushed your arm.the only sound in the room was the rustling of covers as Luca fidgets under them,

“You don’t have to be sorry Luca,” you hummed turning to face him. He fallowed your movements so you two were facing each other in his large bed.

“No, I shouldn’t have touched—“

“Luca, Relax,” you calmed him the best you could. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Slowly, you reach over and took one of his hands in your own. Luca blushed slightly but didn’t question your actions. “Let’s go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay….”



—Kaito Fuji

•mf is SO nervous.

• palm sweat, knees weak, all the above

•he tries to be chill about it but the blush on his face and the

•He’s gonna spend the entire day hyping himself up to cuddle with you just to freeze and malfunction

•take the lead and snuggle with him pls

“This has gotta be some kind of dream, there’s no way this is actually happening—“

“Kaito what.”

“I AM CALM WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Kaito yelled as he shot up in the bed. You shivered as the cold air rushed under the covers where you laid.

“S-sorry!” Kaito stumbled out noticing your shiver. He laid back down, trapping both of you in the warmth of the blanket. He stared at the ceiling, not daring to move.

“Kaito,” you called gently, and he snapped his attention to you. “YES?” He yelled but cleaned his throat, “y-yeah?”

“Can we cuddle?” You asked with a grin in your face. You watched as Kaito went through internal panic, unable to properly respond. So, taking matters into your own hands own hands, you snuggled up to his side, lead laying on his chest.

Let’s just say Kaito struggled to fall asleep,

[brainwashed-klarkstella]

I feel like saying this

I get so many posts on my tumblr feed about antis saying dumb shit and being awful and just general stuff about not liking antis because a bunch of them harass proshippers for no reason and say awful stuff. we should be angry at this people who send death threats and spread hate for no reason other than to be hateful. we don't stand for this behavior as a community, no matter who is doing it

HOWEVER

sometimes, antis put "proship dni" in their bio and the tags of all of their posts and...that's it. they don't go bother proshippers, they don't even say mean shit about us. they just make their silly posts about their favorite ships or their f/os or whatever else they post about. they are not harming us. not all antis are these awful people with a list of insults to hurl at us. I think it's so easy to say antis are bad, antis are mean, antis are this that and whatever, but...honestly like half of the anti community are actually proship and they just don't realize it because they don't know that by not wanting to harass people for their ships and personally being uncomfortable with certain stuff still fits the definition of proship

I guess my point is I wish this community didn't thrive on anti hate. It is so important to call out the bad behavior of specific users (and this goes for anyone, because some proshippers aren't good people either). It would just be nice to see more posts about positivity and just silly ship stuff get more notes than all of the shit talking about how hypocritical and dumb antis can be. They do the same thing, you know. I've seen posts by antis talking about how proshippers are bad because some of them harass people or actually support these things irl or whatever

I'd just like us to be...a bit nicer, maybe? Every time we say bad stuff about the anti community as a whole, we're giving them more fuel to antagonize us with. We should strive to educate people and be respectful, not to sit in a large internet circle with some random antis in the middle and laugh and gawk at them. Even if it sucks, even if we want to just be angry at them, we should strive to be better than them in that regard. And again, not all antis are harassers, and making these generalizations reflects badly on us, just like the harmful generalizations antis make about us that reflect badly on them

oops sorry I keep making long posts lol

[lulu-spooks]

I’ve been trying to get into Hozier lately, and seeing as you seem to be the resident expert on him, what songs would you recommend starting with?

(I know his more popular ones obviously, like Take me to church, Too sweet, and Nobody’s soldier, but I want to know about some of his secret bangers)

EEEEEEEE!!!! You’re in for a treat!

And thank you for the acknowledgment of resident expert, I have 10 years experience in hozier listening and I don’t play about it.

So the thing about hozier is that I truly believe he has a no skip discography on all of his solo works. And pretty much all of his collabs are also bangers (with the possible exception of tell it to my heart. Don’t start there)

Ok so from his first album I want to highlight a few tracks, Jackie and Wilson, from Eden, work song, like real people do, and to be alone. They are all sonically very similar (as are most of the tracks on the first album) but they all sound totally different. The instrumentation stays the same for most of the tracks but I am literally incapable of mixing them up. They all have unique sounds while still remaining cohesive in the context of the album. Expect great guitar and vocals, very little to no synths, funky beats (including some fairly cool time signatures). Excellent lyrics, definitely worth reading along. Especially cherry wine which at first glance sounds like the most beautiful love song but if you read along you’ll see how violent it is.

Wasteland baby is the second album. Standout tracks for me are Nina cried power, dinner and diatribes, would that I, shrike, be, and the title track wasteland baby. This one is definitely the sexiest album. Expect much more exploration into bluesy tunes and sound effects, the beats are getting even funkier, the lyrics are catastrophic and feature a lot of references to Greek mythology. This is the kind of album that you sit at the end of the world and listen to while everything falls apart. Wasteland baby the song epitomises this. It’s the conflict between standing up and fighting the broken systems that oppress people vs the need to give up and wash your hands of everything. Admitting we tried our best and it wasn’t enough. At least I have you. The deluxe tracks for this one are some of his best work on this project so check out why would you be loved, nfwmb and moments silence too.

Unreal unearth. This one is my favourite and my being has been altered by this album in ways I can’t even describe. Every song is a grade A hit. It’s actually my favourite album of all time I think. Honestly everything on this one is worth listening to but at some point once you’ve listened to all of the tracks individually, I cannot reccomend enough that you sit down and listen to the whole thing in order. No pauses. The whole thing with this album is that it’s a journey into the underworld inspired by Dante’s inferno. Each song occupies a different circle of hell and discusses topics surrounding the cardinal sins that are punished in each circle. It’s worth searching uk which sings belong in which circle. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a concept album but it uses the story as a great jumping point for exploring moral, political and religious topics that are not discussed in the original cantos. This album is a masterpiece and I could literally write about it for hours but my thumbs are already falling off so I’ll keep it quick. Standout tracks are Francesca, first time, eat your young, abstract psychopomp, who we are, unknown nth, all things end, first light, de selby part 1 and butchered tongue. If you want the more explicitly political tracks choose eat your young and butchered tongue and READ ALONG. I could write fucking essays just on eat your young. This album was also written in the context of covid 19 and the lockdown and songs like all things end really make a heartbreaking but uplifting anthem for this period in time. The general sound of the album is very different to the two preceding albums. Expect much more manipulation of vocals and distortion of instruments. Expect more instruments. Expect full orchestra and stripped back guitar. Expect drums that sound like thunder and lightning. And for gods sake read along with this one. Cuz it’s fucking fantastic lyric writing and a lot of it can be missed in his pronunciation. When Andrew learns to annunciate it is OVER for us all.

Extended songs from unreal unearth are numerous and you’ve said you’ve heard nobodies soldier (also very political) and too sweet. I’d also recommend wildflower and barley for a soft lockdown summer feeling tinged with hopelessness, empire now as an anthem for Irish liberation and how much it was fucking worth it despite the troubles that followed and that you are for the most year inducing love song also within the context if lockdown. Just see “that I’d be anyway that you are” which will I’m sure soon be written on my body in tattoo ink. Through the flood acts as the introduction to the full album experience, hymn to Virgil is the last one.

Anyway have fun I tried not to write a fucking essay but I did. For unreal unearth in particular I have read no less than 5 books to examine source materials for his lyricism. I also learned a fuck ton about production to understand how he gets the sounds he does in his music. All to say this guys music is my whole life. And it can be hard to tone it down. If it all sounds confusing I’m sorry I’ve been writing this for like 40 minutes and I just did a full day in the recording studio and my brain is fried and my fingers are dead and I need to sleep, where I will probably listen to ‘to someone from a warm climate’ to sleep. Bye :P

[mailrebel]

Thanks for the tag @louwhose I definitely had fun with this one hehehe. I went the Cloti route for Final Fantasy VII…even though so few people on Tumblr tend to care about this ship lol.

Tagging the Final Fantasy squad @summonerluna @daemosdaen as well as @ranjuharukareon25 (long shot) and @raccoonfiend95 (wild card). Join the mistletoe fun if you want!

Drabble under the cut. Words: 463 

The doors to the Highwind’s meeting room split open, and Cloud halted as soon as he stepped inside. “Tifa?”

The brawler paused as well, turning to him in surprise. “Cloud? What are you doing here? I thought you were helping load supplies.”

Cloud began making his way around the long oak table to join her. “I was, but then Yuffie asked if I’d run up here real quick and grab the Fire Materia she left behind.”

At this, Tifa furrowed her brow. “How odd. Cid just asked me to fetch a Fire Materia as well.”

“From the meeting room?”

“Yes.”

They both glanced down, and sure enough, a single green orb rested on the table before them. Not two, but one. Cloud simply sighed. Was this another one of Yuffie’s stupid pranks? If so, the comedy was lost on him.

“I don’t get it,” he admitted. “They both asked for the same Materia? At the same time?”

“It doesn’t make much sense,” Tifa agreed. She then glanced upwards, and immediately froze stiff. “Oh.”

Cloud turned to her, noticing that her cheeks had turned the softest shade of pink. Her ruby eyes were locked overhead. He cast his gaze upwards as well, only to feel his heart sink.

For there, resting above them, was a single branch of mistletoe.

Cloud’s eyes fell back to Tifa. By this point, her cheeks were red and he nearly choked on the spot. So this was their game. Those stupid, senseless bastards. Oh, just wait until Cloud got them alone. He’d been meaning to find someone to practice his Omnislash on-

“Um,” Tifa mumbled, her eyes darting to the floor and her hands curling behind her back. “I…suppose it’s tradition. Do you mind?”

Cloud blinked himself to life. What was he thinking? This wasn’t about those idiots who set them up. This was all about Tifa!

“No, of course not,” he insisted hastily. He then took a daring step closer, and Tifa, despite her trepidation, naturally leaned in with eyes closed.

The kiss lasted only for a second, but it was still enough to get a generous taste of her lips. Cloud had to stop his own cheeks from blazing as Tifa slowly reopened her eyes and smiled at him.

“That was nice,” she whispered.

“Y-Yeah,” he answered awkwardly, his own smile shining without remorse.

They continued to stand in close proximity: silent, soft, and content. But eventually the realization of where they were snapped Cloud out of his reverie. His mouth was dry, but he forced himself to swallow.

“I, um…I should probably get going,” he said, snatching the green orb from the table. “Those morons still need their Materia.”

Tifa giggled, her hips swaying a bit as she stepped aside. “Yes. That would probably be best.”

Can we do a thing?: Fanfic Writers, your main character and the love interest are caught under the mistletoe. What happens next? 👀

Tagging @louwhose, @coruscantiprincess, @xqueenybee, @psychicbluebirdmiracle, @precariousrelic

[sistersorrow]

I'm gonna preface this by saying that I know that Games Workshop are not fascists and that Warhammer 40k is openly intended to be a criticism and parody of fascism and other forms of authoritarianism

However, GW has still kinda stumbled into a similar issue that The New Order did, that issue being what I'm gonna call The Problem of the Reasonable Fascist because pretending I'm doing something clever makes me feel special

So, The New Order: The Last Days of Europe is a mod for Hearts of Iron 4 set in a timeline where the Axis won WW2 and things are to put it lightly not going well

Over time, the setting's lore has gone through a bunch of revisions, with a pretty big one being the removal of Esoteric Nazism as a distinct ideology group

In early versions of the mod, there was Fascism (ie. the ideologies practiced in real world Germany and Italy in during WW2) and then there was Esoteric Nazism, which was basically Batshit Insane Fascism, which takes Fascist ideology in darker or downright bizarre directions (eg. A vaguely 40k-inspired Russian Imperial Cult that believed that Alexei Romanov was still alive and would return once the country was "cleansed") and represents some of the worst possible excesses of Fascism

These ideologies still exist in TNO, but were moved into the same ideology group as the non-esoteric fascists and went through revisions because the developers concluded that when you have groups like the Order-State of Burgundy wanting to trigger global nuclear war so True Aryans will inherit the Earth (ie. the ending of the Turner Diaries), the 3rd Reich seems a bit less crazy

That's what I'm referring to as the Problem of the Reasonable Fascist, the way some anti-fascist narratives are written can create something so over the top that it accidentally makes less extreme forms fascism seem not as horrible

40k runs in to this same issue due to the way it handles characters and the pre vs post-Horus Heresy Imperium of Man

The Imperium of Man in the 40th millenium is a theofascist hellhole so incomprehensibly vast that the death of billions each day to keep the war machine running isn't even a statistic, it's a rounding error, but it's also repeatedly presented as an empire in decline whose existence is a mockery of the Emperor's vision, which runs into the exact problem I'm talking about

The pre-Heresy Imperium was authoritarian, xenophobic in multiple meanings of the word, and openly hostile to any schools of thought that wasn't their own, but in comparison to the post-Heresy Imperium, it was a golden age, and those who fought in defense of it are generally written as pretty reasonable even though they're still authoritarians

Hell, the Horus Heresy happened in part because Horus saw a vision of the 40th millenium and thought that was the Emperor's end goal

The bar is set so low in the modern Imperium that if you aren't the kind of zealot who shoots someone for stuttering during prayers, you are basically treated as a pillar of rationality by the audience

Again, GW and its writers are not Fascists, but this is an interesting phenomenon I've noticed

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[shimmershy]

Undertale Month Day 5: Ruins

[alongtidesoflight]

so here's my honest thoughts on dragon age: the veilguard, after ~40 hours of playing. i finished the main quest after having finished all companion quests and major faction quests. just to clear up what content i saw, i played as an elven transmasc rook who is a member of the lords of fortune. he romanced lucanis (although after finishing the game i'm now leaning towards taash). i don't know what's happening in playthroughs that have a different race, gender identity, romance or faction going on.

full spoilers ahead, i mean it. don't read further if you want to avoid them. i don't want complaining about it in my asks.

oh and also, if you're worried because of a few negative reviews online i can comfort you by saying don't give a fuck about a certain big name youtuber who is very much tied to bethesda franchises giving this a negative review. i'll explain why.

i'm starting off with the things i liked

the game looks really pretty. i was worried it wouldn't feel like thedas anymore (with them trying to "focus on northern thedas only" i thought they'd make a clear cut in environmental design. they do and they don't. it's complicated. i'll elaborate on it when talking about the negative stuff). anyway it does. minrathous feels like kirkwall. treviso enchanted me like the winter palace did. the hossberg wetlands reminded me of the hinterlands and a couple other inquisition maps. arlathan looked like... arlathan. the crossroads were different, but familiar. overall i like the way it looks and feels. it's thedas, with a twist. it's a good one, and gives everything a solid but unique feel.

combat is top tier. if you're a hardcore dragon age player you WILL miss the tactical aspect of it for a bit, but i promise you, once you're used to the way the combat works, you will be lapping that shit up. and once you get to ability combos you'll mourn the control you used to have over your companions in battle a bit less

the MAIN quest and its story. i expected worse, way worse. and for a while the game even had me tricked (harr harr you'll get it in a second) it is Really That Much Worse. but holy shit was it good. i walked away satisfied ngl.

your choices have SOLID weight. there's consequences, good AND bad. i got minrathous blighted, ruled over by venatori, and the leader of the shadow dragons ultimately died because of my decisions. i made those at the beginning and throughout the game. he died at the end. DAVRIN died because i didn't expect what i was saying to have that much weight. i thought i was in the clear. he had hero status. well turns out, your choices can still get your companions killed even if you do everything right. i fucking love him. he shouldn't have made that sacrifice just because i told him to do everything it takes once.

the inquisitor, morrigan and dorian being there, surprisingly. there's also negatives to this though, see below.

speaking of companions dying and the inquisitor playing a bigger role: the final quest feels like me2's suicide mission. i was blown away by it and the fact that i got to see the results of all my efforts playing out in front of me.

bioware are NOT trying to redeem solas. they love him as a character yes, but i wasn't forced to see any good in him. he betrays you. he fucked my rook over twice. he fucked him over right back, for good this time (the veil wasn't torn down, i anchored it by binding him to it, he's doomed to uphold it). but solas really lives up to his name as the trickster elven god. rip to all the people who grew really attached to him over the years.

varric died. if you like him that's probably as hard reading it as it was watching it. varric died and the game lies about it until the very end. when the realisation hits, it hurts. but in the very best way.

the amount of care they put into gender expression and trans identities this time around. (i'll add onto this with negative points as well too).

rook feels very much ingrained in the world of thedas. he doesn't ask questions that expose the player to lore through dialogue as if he's stepped foot into thedas for the first time. those conversations feel very solid and good. i hope other faction players got as much joy out of this as i did.

and the things i didn't like and boy there's a lot unfortunately

the music. let's just get that out of the way holy shit. it doesn't feel like it belongs in this universe. it gets so incredibly sci-fi-y at times you'd think it's taken straight from mass effect andromeda. there's not a single song unique to veilguard that i really enjoyed. it broke my immersion, real bad. hearing a busker play the tavern songs from inquisition on a lute right after i killed some venatori with wobbly bass songs playing in the background is just odd. weird tonal shift. don't like it. it's made for people who like flashy light-weight cinema.

tevinter nights is required reading. the podcasts are required listening exercises. the game is so fast paced, especially at the start, that there's no time to introduce you to characters and how much weight their names carry in-game. i would not have known who half these people are if i hadn't skimmed over tevinter nights. i'd care even less about them than i already did. there is no time to get properly attached to them. people will act as if you're talking to a legend personified and you'll be thinking man goddamn which chapter of tevinter night were they in again and what did they do???

there's a weird mismatch with the animations. you'll have beautifully fluid ones, like emmrich casting spells. and then you'll have rook's face animating in the most unnatural manner that's sorta reminiscent of mass effect andromeda's "my face is tired" addison, when their emotions SHOULD be landing with the player rn instead.

i'm not vibing with the art style. sometimes it works. most of the time it doesn't. at points i felt like i was watching tangled.

that also brings me to some of the dialogue. same issue. i am watching frozen. i am watching tangled. someone on the writer's team really likes the adorkable trope. bellara is its victim.

for all the talk about identity, bioware sure doesn't like theirs. the grey warden armor got a redesign again and it just makes them look like a generic army. i hate it lol

in general, i don't like the armor design. the wardrobe/appearances system is fine, but it's just not helping if all the armors are just... kinda bland or downight bad looking? and don't get me started on the lords of fortune armor. that is orientalism personified.

the world states should have been carried over, full stop. i know they said they didn't because they want to separate what happens in the north from what happens in the south, which... i could have lived with that. but the inquisitor sends you letters that keep you up to date on... the south of thedas. you learn that there's a blight again, that people are standing strong but it's difficult, denerim's fallen, the rulers are taking care of it, orlais is fighting and they're successful for a while, etc etc. what's good bioware. i thought we don't care about the south this time around. why are you feeding me so much boring generic information. if you're not gonna show any of it and just write letters, then carrying the world state over should not have been an issue. i have a game dev background. those few lines of code would not have broken your budget or pushed your engine's limits. fuck right off.

this gripe of mine carries over to all the cameos. as a lord of fortune you have to deal with isabela a lot. it's fun. i missed her. you get to go drinking with her and taash and bellara! also my hawke romanced her. she's not mentioned once. they had the opportunity to put a sentence or two about her in there with not a lot of effort, trust me.

when varric dies, all she has is a single line about it. for gold, for fortune, for varric. she only says it if you interact with her on your way to the final push. that's not mandatory.

morrigan is there. kieran isn't. the old god soul that mythal and then solas absorbed? who cares at this point, the gods are dead now and solas is locked away for eternity. i suppose? why is morrigan there. she feels unneeded. i wish they'd just left her down south, at least that way i wouldn't have had to witness her god awful redesign.

dorian at least feels as if he belongs in this story. the shadow dragons are a crucial part to protecting minrathous. he's also weirdly underutilised. isabela and morrigan had more lines than him in my playthrough.

on the topic of romance: bro that was underwhelming. no, genuinely. you know when romance picked up a bit? after the point of no return. i heard maybe two lines of companion banter about it before that. maybe i missed something which i honestly doubt, but romance did not play much of a role in lucanis's storyline. i saved his grandmother as he wished me to (and if you read tevinter nights you know she was rather abusive and their relationship not the healthiest) and told him to focus on his family. a reunified family my rook wasn't even introduced to as a partner at the end of all that.

really, do not buy this game if you're only in it for the romances. others might be better, lucanis's basically gave me nothing. except for an outing (the second coffee date i had with him, it was getting repetitive) all of it played out once i committed to the final quest. the sex scene was a fade to black. annoyingly right after davrin died. if you're looking for well paced and good spice, pick up something else. the sweet talk and the final goodbye were nice though.

for all the good the ever-presence of gender identity does, it is brought up in such a disruptive manner too. it doesn't even play out naturally if you CHOOSE the lines that are meant to be said. hearing the words trans and non-binary in this setting doesn't feel right, and i'm saying this as a trans guy. i think it could have been handled more gracefully. the amount of times my rook went "i'm a MAN" as if he's about to start drumming on his chest and roaring any second now got super nerve-grating. "i'm so glad you're into me... the me who is trans. remember?" just. tell me one trans person who'd talk like that to a person they've grown close with and are trying to romance. this game doesn't handle sexuality well, so all this hey my body might not look like the way you're expecting it to look talk amounts to nothing anyway. i feel about this the way i feel about krem: this is partial exposition to trans experiences... packaged up for cis consumption. the ONLY exception to that is interacting with taash. holy shit was all of that heartwarming and bro did it feel good and natural to talk to them about theirs and rook's gender.

rivain and nevarra are new locations added by veilguard. they're also incredibly underwhelming, small and constricted maps. rivain is a coastline with a few ruins. the hall of valor is a partial ruin nestled into a cave on a beach, with a fighting pit. isabela is there in her skimpy outfit commentating your pit fights. that's it. i'm sorry if you were looking for a bustling pirate cove or whatever. you're not gonna get it. the nevarran crypts btw are a long ass dungeon crawl. that's it.

speaking of maps. i thought people were being dramatic when they said you're gonna be fighting the same enemies on them again and again. i thought they were figure of speeching it. they're not. you WILL fight the same amount of enemies. in the same spot. every time you reload the map. best to stay on a map and clear out the enemies and do as much questing on that map as you can before leaving, because you WILL have to do it all over again once you return.

the three choices i made for my inquisitor didn't matter lol she didn't have to face solas and therefore couldn't stop him at any cost as she had sworn (maybe because my rook tricked solas into binding himself to the veil, there was also an option to fight him. would she have stepped in? who knows). blackwall wasn't mentioned. and either her using a small amount of her forces in the final fight was the reason the civilians of minrathous fared so well..... or it just didn't matter. ultimately i think she had very little impact on anything

[kjones-fandom]

I do think that Neil and Aaron would eventually get along but imagine if maybe a decade or so after the king's men Neil and Aaron get into a fight. It doesn’t matter what about but Neil runs his mouth and Aaron decks him. It doesn’t hurt that much and he doesn’t actually want to hurt Neil he was just so angry. I think Andrew wouldn’t react that much in the moment. He would assess the damage and Neil’s fine but Aaron’s busted his knuckles. So he wraps Aaron’s hand for him and doesn’t say anything for the longest time. No one knows what he’s thinking but the rest of the foxes are there (think like a reunion) and everyone kind of moves on.

Later that night while Aaron is icing his hand Andrew enters the room. Neil and Aaron already would have made up by this point. They aren’t necessarily friends but they don’t dislike each other anymore. Andrew would be silent as he had been earlier and would stare at Aaron’s hand. Aaron opens his mouth to say something- maybe to apologize or maybe to defend himself. But Andrew gets there first, he doesn’t raise his voice or become violent. Instead, he makes eye contact with Aaron and says “ This isn’t college anymore. If you ever lay a hand on my husband again I will kill you.” His voice isn’t apathetic but it isn’t very emotional.

He doesn’t break eye contact and his voice is steady and Aaron knows he’s telling the truth. Aaron doesn’t look away even after hearing the threat. He just nods his head “ I know”. And he does know because the twins are not the same men they were in college. Andrew doesn’t threaten Katelyn or speak badly about her. The twins do grow up and I think Andrew would respect and even consider Katelyn his sister-in-law first and his brother's wife second. No, this isn’t Andrew and Aaron losing their relationship or having a falling out. They’ve grown and matured and Aaron would be more pissed if Andrew stayed silent the whole time. Because he knows he would have done the same if Andrew had laid a hand on Katelyn.

TLDR: Andrew and Aaron grow after college. They respect each other's partners. Hell, they even like the other significant other. Because Andrew and Aaron love each other and after years of therapy and peace they come to terms with the fact that Katelyn and Neil are both there to stay.

Edit: Also, I am not calling Neil weak or saying he needs protection. He can absolutely defend himself but he shouldn’t have to with family. I love Aaron and Neil’s friendship and the fight doesn’t affect their relationship.

[sea-buns]

Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.

Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.

Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.

But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.

We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.

All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.

I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?

I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us