#but not really I love her but for anyone who takes this as hate and has that tag hidden

[arisewanekosuki]

travelers helper AU where is the reason why S/O is oblivious to all the men liking her is because every single time she showed an interested in a hot guy. They turned out to be gay, so she’s convinced herself that all of the men are gay and possibly even dating each other. (Couples she thinks are real are Alhaitham x Kaveh Cyno x Tinari Zongli x Childe Kaeya x Venti Nuvilet x woirthslie ) and I watched their reactions to finding out that she thinks they’re all gay

Ok this idea is funny xD But to anyone who like those ships, pls don't take it as some kind of hate towards those ships or something. --------- The guys are devastated after learning you think that they are into... each other. All of them wondering where did they make a mistake? Kaveh found it ridiculous, him and Alhaitham?! He wondered if you think so because they live in the same house? But there are many people who are friends and share homes… You even invite all your friends to live in your Teapot!! He really couldn't understand from where this idea came from… Is it because they bicker so much? But it didn't make sense to him!! Kaveh was anxious… do you not see him as a man or something? He is overthinking this whole thing. At this point he is debating whenever to show you his plans of the house he wants to make for you both in future.

Alhaitham was more clam about it, analyzing from where this idea may come. It's not like he and Kaveh were affectionate to each other and he couldn't recal any moment that could make you think like that about them. He will state that, no, he is not interested in Kaveh in such way (or anyone else, both guys and girls, that are not you) And yet you still say "That's okay! I won't judge! I will support whoever you love!" At this point Alhaitham may confess his feeling to you but the problem is that there is always someone by your side…if not Aether then other guys. And the worst thing is Kaveh always appears too, making the misunderstanding even worse.

Cyno at first thought this is some kind of joke. But after seeing that you're not joking he was bewildered. Why would you think so? "You two sometimes look like parents of Collei" Parents? But when they were in Mondstadt he was sure you heard how he and Tighnari bickered who would be the 'older brother'… right? Cyno was silent. Trying to come up with something that will make you believe him that he is interested in you. Because whenever he would say that, you would be "ah Cyno! Please don't joke like that!" he would never joke about things like this... The General Mahamatra for now tries to avoid talking to Tighnari when you are close…

Tighnari only furrowed his brows. Him and Cyno? Big nope!! Just imagining that he would hear more jokes from Cyno if they were together already gives him a headache. The Forest Ranger was getting more and more irritated that you for some reason don't want to accept when he says that there is nothing between him and Cyno. So he started to approach this in different way. Thankfully Cyno already was avoiding him when you are close. So he can now start to be even bolder with his affections towards you. If you still refuse to believe that he is attracted to you, then you may expect to hear a confession soon.

Zhongli asked you if you can repeat yourself. Oh? Him and Childe together? In romantic relationship? Zhongli was thinking where this came from…Is it because he often uses Childe's mora to buy things?But that was only that… and that Childe often bothers him so they could spar. Ah. Maybe this was the reason, maybe you think that 'sparings' are something different. Humans are truly interesting. He will ask you why you think so, patiently listening to your explanation. He is amused by this.

Childe laughed, but after seeing you are not laughing he stopped and said "Wait...are you serious?" He will say that there is nothing between them, even says that he prefers girls (to hint that he likes you) but you responded with "It's okay! You don't have to hide it! I accept you and I'm sure your family will accept this as well!" You're cute…. but why don't you want to believe him?! Should he shower you with more gifts? It would be better to invite you for a date but with Aether being around it's not that easy….

Kaeya was amused, but he didn't expect that you will think that Venti is his boyfriend. One part of him wanted to joke about it but other part was worried that you will take it too seriously and he will lose his chances with you. The cavalry captain doesn't worry about it too much. He will simply tell you that you're wrong and he will continue showering you with affections.

Venti was a bit hurt by this. Were his love songs and poems dedicated to you not enough? Or maybe this is your way to tell him that you're not interested in him? He can't really understand this… he never was affectionate to anyone else like he is towards you. But after learning he is not the only one that you think is into guys, he felt relieved. At least you didn't think that he and that block head are into each other.

Neuvillette was confused by this. There are already many things that he can't understand about humans. But he was sure that you will realize that he is trying to court you… not the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide… After that for some days it was raining in Fontaine. He decided to tell Furina about it, hoping for some advice in this situation. But she only started to laugh. After she calmed down she promised to help him to clear this misunderstanding.

Wriothesley already knew how oblivious you are but he never expected that you might be this oblivious. He will say that there is nothing like this between him and the Iudex and if you still insist about that then well…if there will be a chance for you two to be alone you can expect him to kabedon you, making you look into his eyes and he won't let you go till you stop thinking that he is interested in anyone that is not you.

[thatbitchery]

Personal finance is tied mostly to your systems as a person. You could make 6 figures a year and still be broke and in debt or you could make 20k a year and be on your way to financial freedom.I have finally achieved financial freedom, and no I do not make super much, depending on who you compare me to. Mostly it's my financial and personal habits that keep me going.

I do not consider fancy a marker of a good life, as a matter of fact I do not understand it. What do you mean a MEAL costs 1000 its never that serious please. I don't consider Givenchy to be any more elevated than what my tailor can make me for 100$. Fancy is not important to me so when I was building my one year emergency fund I did not consider fancy part of the budget. I do not try to purchase status.

And I can not stress this enough- taking risks with my money. Buying a vending machine is one of the best decisions I made this year. Buying a business, as risky as that was, turned out to be great. I have lost money, too. Like a lot. I bought stocks in a startup that crashed and lost a pretty little buck. I dipped into the VR business not too long ago and that tanked. It is not about making the right decisions- with money that is almost never possible. Its about taking risks.

My end goal is not a career its the money. Meaning? I have worked jobs odd and unclassy and not so fun. I have packaged fish at some point- hated it. I have worked as a cashier once. As the personal assistant to some pig that was always trying to get their hand up my skirt. I have done real estate. Currently doing event (wedding) Planning for my girl. I did forex, once. I have been paid to go as someone's date to some event. I am not picky with my jobs because the job is not the end goal, the money is. The goal is to retire by 30 and I will do whatever it takes to get up there. It's the getting paid part that matters the most to me.

Learning to leverage my skills and the situation plus to recognize the opportunities when they show up. My girl's last organizer canceled last minute and I offered to take it if she tops the fee up because I love her but not THAT much. In the process I have met so many people in this place and making connections in a new country will never be a bad idea. I have zero to none skills in event planning but all i hear is compliments (Pinterest the things I'd do for you) and I can add event planning to the options my future self has for careers especially given the profile of this one. A lady at church was divorced and man left her with a mortgage and a financial crisis (your daily reminder marrying rich isn't all that) and i drew up a contract to cover her mortgage and kid's education in exchange of a piece of her estate plus slowly easing my way into becoming her financial go to person and asset manager. A bargain, seriously, and I've passed it through enough lawyers to know my fancy little mortgage note will make me very very happy in a few years. Leveraging my mentorship skills to work my way into society because the way to anyone's heart is their children. Its free on paper but is it really? These are the next CEOs and I'm building my space this early. Leveraging my relationships for more relationships. Opportunities are not given they are created. 

THIS. ESPECIALLY THIS - having a value system. Knowing what is important to me and what isn't. Being a part of high society is NOT important to me so why would i buy a gala ticket the same price as my rent? Buying brands to keep up a rich girl aesthetic? Winters in Gstaad although I despise snow? Being part of high society isn't something I value at all so I don't play social games I'll just go home. Yes I'll maintain my relationships but everyone that is everyone knows it is not a race I fancy (Which, weirdly enough, has made it very easy for me to navigate it). Like I said, fancy things are not important to me so apart from an Aston Martin I don't care about the price I care about the quality. I will be at a thrift store I really don't mind. My peace is very important to me so I'll pick the fancy overpriced library fees over other libraries and I will pay a ridiculous amount in rent for an apartment in the peaceful part of town and I will splurge on a fancy cafe because I know the price range itself buys me peace. Ramit Sethi (In his book I Will Teach You To Be Rich) gives this as the core point of getting wealthy, knowing your value system. What is important to you? What isn't? If you're not for something you're for everything. 

Minimizing responsibilities. I don't have kids and I don't intend to. I don't stupidly commit to things without thinking real real hard about them. I didn't buy things that require me to keep up with paperwork, I don't take on things I need to track. My greatest responsibility in life is my three cats. 

[90shaladriel]

I'm not blaming anyone, clearly the show made it a point to pivot Sauron to unredeemable in Season 2 when I don't think that is what they showed us in Season 1. Personally that it less interesting to me for his character and also the implications that gives to Saurondriel, but I realize that's not what the show is going to be about. That is fine!

I believe me & the other person above were saying Nenya can't heal evil like that, you have to heal that evil inside you yourself.

Well this is the debate isn't it? I am saying that Nenya CAN heal evil like that, as is proved by Adar's healing, so why not? Also given the sample size is exactly 1, nobody can make broad declarative statements about what it can or cannot do in show-lore because it's up to our interpretations isn't it?

Adar on the other hand, sees their existence & suffering, knows his involvement in it & instead of hating it & them along with it he chooses to love them, fight for them & try to break the cycle of abuse that perpetuates their plight.

But he doesn't extend that love and compassion to the men and women of the Southlands or the Elves of Eregion? The stuff he does or, by inaction. allows the Uruks to do is horrendous. I think what he tried to do in the very end with Galadriel is the only way they can break the cycle, but it was too little too late. But again that only happened after he stole Nenya and in the meantime permitted his Uruks to destroy Eregion.

Sauron may not regard the Uruks with much love or dignity, hard to dispute. The only caveat would be on the raft when Galadriel spoke of her quest for vengeance against the Orcs, Sauron made a point of telling her, "if you want to murder Orcs that is your own affair, but don't dress it up as heroism" he clearly cares more about them than she did who is the hero of the story. We only really have glimpses of what he might have done after Morgoth's defeat that caused Adar and the Uruks to turn on him, we only got Adar's account of this. I guess we can assume the worst for the sake of discussion but I could imagine it was more nuanced. Perhaps Adar sought to rule himself and seeded the rebellion against Sauron? We don't see Adar giving up his rule once the Orcs have a home in Mordor, nor does he act to create a democratic order of equality among them, he very much takes charge as a "Lord".

I think in an inverse way, we see Sauron time and again appear to hold the Men of the Southlands in higher regard than the Uruks. We didn't fully get the King of the Southlands as it was cut short, but up until his wounding he was saving people's lives. He continually argued with the Elves on the necessity to aid the men that he represented in Halbrand form. I think as you said :

This doesn't erase his crimes against the southlanders but those crimes also don't erase his genuine love for his children. 2 things can be true at once, this show is beautiful in its complexity this way!

Is very much true for Sauron. They are two sides of the same coin. He is full of contradictions!

Yes. Sauron let Diarmid perish. He also chose to forsake violence and revenge by turning away from the Uruks and Adar in the Southlands and following Diarmid.

You could say that Adar did good here and there. But also Sauron saved Galadriel's life at sea when there was zero material benefit to himself and even possible risk knowing how powerful she was and that her actual mission was killing him! He purposefully gave his enemy a chance to live, nothing can take away that altruism he displayed, whether he did other rotten things or not. Going to fight in the Southlands, saving Elendil's life, sparing Adar's are all further of examples of this right up till the end of Season 1.

So by that measure, I do think even Sauron has parts of him that are good so I do believe there are things that could have brought that out externally, yes.

Clearly by the end of Season 2 they wanted to ensure that he was fully evil for whatever reason, he had plenty of opportunities to make other choices and didn't. That's all his blame. Talking about what Nenya would have done is just a fun thought experiment!

S1E1 of ROP sets up the theme of "Nothing is evil in the beginning"

This is a true to life imo & nuanced take on evil.

The show expands on it by showing us Sauron in his repentance phase where he is trying to return to his beginnings when he was still good.

S2E1 gives us the theme of the season "To be forgiven one needs to choose good everyday"

Again a very nuanced take on goodness, individual responsibility & willpower.

The show expands on it by simultaneously showing us Adar & Sauron starting on the same side & choosing different paths in the end.

This season shows us Sauron not choosing good, actively harming others and letting his decisions be based on greed & selfishness.

While Adar who's character's evil side was already established in Season 2 with the abuse of Southlanders gets his origins & motives fleshed out and then gets presented with the choice where he chooses good.

This show puts a lot of effort into nuances, complex topics like the cycle of abuse and dark characters that are very human & grounded in reality.

To imply that Magic Ring = Evil Eraser in a show like this imo diminishes the hardwork put into it & all its characters who have their own minds, motivations & challenges. (the very things we praise ROP Galadriel for having)

[oodlyenough]

continuing my arcane s2 ted talks i guess, i've been trying to decipher how i feel about the medardas' plotline in s2 and i never really land anywhere but a sort of disgruntled marge simpson groan.

i think anyone who paid any attention at the end of s1 or spent even ten seconds theorizing probably knew mel was a mage and her shield magic would protect some or all of the council. i was surprised this reveal didn't happen right away, and i liked that initially we see an overhead shot showing her totally-undamaged bubble around her seat. i could roll with jayce wondering why he survived and mel sort of shrugging it off. the black rose stuff in act 1 i also found intriuging and the action scene with amara was cool. i was excited that kino would be more relevant

but then act 2 ... it felt like we put mel in the torture labyrinth only to draw two conclusions, the first being that she's a mage (no duh; we could've revealed it in the first episode) and the second being that she's a bastard child from a secret love affair her mom had. and then we uh. didn't really explore that second part at all. we learn, sort of, that her mom has some beef with the black rose; if you don't play League you have no idea who or what they are; they claim Ambessa let Kino die and only wants Mel as a weapon; when confronted Ambessa only half-answers and seems to disdain mages; Ambessa ends up fighting Mel, gets killed by Mel's double bluff, and then Mel takes over the Medarda clan for... some reason (does she want to? does she HAVE to?)

mostly it ends up feeling like a backdoor pilot for a future noxus spinoff. and a future noxus spinoff starring mel isn't a bad idea; it's just that it feels like a lot of screentime in an already-frantic final season for arcane was then spent on a plotline that doesn't really resolve.

also in season one i thought mel and ambessa's relationship was very interesting and i looked forward to more of it. i thought the idea of ambessa sending mel away because mel's big puppy eyes made her feel guilty for doing what she felt she had to do, and mel feeling that as a rejection/banishment/lack of love fit nicely into the general themes of s1. i... just don't really know how the secret mel magic that ambessa hates and/or covets (unclear) adds to that rather than weakening it. their two conflicting worldviews alone set them up nicely to butt heads in season 2, especially with caitlyn potentially stuck in the middle, torn between both of their guidances and philosophies. instead it's like mel mostly inhabited a different show for most of her screentime.

i'm also not super convinced ambessa was written with the same level of sympathy characters like silco got in season 1. it certainly seems to me she gets less of that from fandom, anyway, who treat her like a uniquely evil character even for a major antagonist. it's hard for us to understand her motives when we don't really know what they ARE, the origin of her black rose feud, who tf the rose are to begin with, the true circumstances around kino's death and mel's banishment, etc... if this is all the unofficial pilot for a Noxus spinoff it might as well have just waited until then and let us use this screentime to expand on the other things in s2 that needed to be expanded/wrapped up in their final season.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

The thing is, Evie knows she’s a pushover.

She’s loud, sure, once she gets to know someone, and she likes to laugh and needle and tease, but she isn’t brave, not really. Last week when her chem partner hadn’t written his half of their assignment Evie had written it for him even though it took all night because she figured it was better than confronting him. When she was in second grade and Trip Lewitt stole her lunch every day for a year she never once stood up to him, and last Tuesday when Sandy had asked to borrow her lipgloss and hadn’t given it back, Evie hadn’t said a word.

So yeah, she’s a pushover and she knows it. But the thing is, she doesn’t need to be brave because she has Steve. 

Steve, who had given her his jacket and let her sleep in his car because she was nodding off in math after she was up all night writing that paper. Steve, who had pushed Trip Lewitt into the chain link fence when he caught him snatching her lunch one day and then made him eat dirt. Steve, who could tell she was put out about something last week even if he didn’t know exactly what so he’d bought her a milkshake and it meant she’d had just enough change to replace her lipgloss herself.

Steve Randle is the furthest thing from a coward Evie has ever met. He’s so brave she doesn’t need to be, but sometimes he makes her brave too. 

They’ve been friends for as long as Evie can remember. Her mom used to be friends with Steve’s mom before Steve’s mom left him behind, ensuring Evie would hate her forever even if she’ll never see her again. Evie’s been around long enough that Mr. Randle knows who she is- a rare feat from the man who goes from loving his son one day to hating him the next. Steve has slept over at her house, she’s bought him birthday gifts every year since she got her first job at twelve, and everyone always assumes they’re dating because he’s protective in a way most guys only get around their girls. 

They’re not dating though. It isn’t like that. She’s not in love with Steve, has never loved anyone that way; and Steve only has eyes for his blonde haired best friend who loves him but not enough, not like Steve loves him, in the kind of way that makes the world shake. 

Even still, she usually tells Steve everything. He’s her best friend even if she isn’t his, and she needs him more than she cares to admit. She never feels safer in the world than when she’s sitting beside him at the drive-in with his jacket around her shoulders, or throwing fries at him at the diner while they shit talk Sodapop’s latest girlfriend or scheme how to prank their horrific spanish teacher. 

Right now he’s down the hall half wrestling with Sodapop and Johnny Cade, laughing and as happy as he ever gets. She could join them if she wanted to, just walk up and say hello and she’d be safe. Steve would take one look at her and know something was wrong, even if she tried to hide it, and he’d walk her to class with an arm around her shoulders and a murderous glare on his face he’d give to anyone who dared glance in her direction.

As she watches, Sodapop ruffles Steve’s hair and he beams. It lasts half a second before it’s replaced with his usual scowl, but it’s enough for Evie to make a decision. He just looks so happy. Even on a good day Steve is probably one of the saddest people she’s ever met, and it drives her half crazy sometimes because if anybody deserves the truest happiness the world has to offer it’s stubborn, gentle, scowling, deadly kind Steve Randle. The fact that this kind of lightness in him is so rare is a travesty, and she won’t be the one to ruin it. She can’t. She won’t.

She sighs and pulls the sleeve of her shirt down further. Not that anyone would notice the bruise on her wrist anyway, but the purple is ugly and Sandy always says purple isn’t her colour. 

*********************

“I was thinkin’ we should maybe go to that drag race out by the rodeo grounds this weekend when I get off work. I heard from Cindy who’s sister is going with Two-bit Mathews that Sodapop’ll probably be there an’ I want him to see me in that new skirt I got.”

Sandy is jabbering on about her latest plan to attract the attention of one Sodapop Curtis- an unfortunate recent development that has left Evie between a rock and a hard place between trying to keep Sandy away from Soda while not spilling why she’s so against her friend pursing the blonde. Luckily, Sodapop is a typical idiotic fifteen year old, and barely has eyes for anyone longer than a week, and as such, has not yet noticed- or responded to- any of Sandy’s advances. Evie can see this, but whenever she points it out Sandy reminds her that she has an advantage other girls don’t considering Evie’s boyfriend is Sodapop’s best friend. She refuses to believe that Steve isn’t Evie’s boyfriend, and further refuses to believe that despite how close Evie is to Steve, she has little more than an acquaintance with the Curtis boy. 

It’s only a matter of time before she asks Evie to try and get Steve to convince Soda to go on a double date with them, in which case Evie will refuse without an explanation and Sandy will give her the silent treatment for a week. Evie’s trying not to think about it.

“Sure,” she agrees half heartedly, dodging the stuck out foot of some soc girl as they make their way down the hall, “I’m coverin’ the evenin’ shift for Corrin though so I might not be able to stay-”

She cuts herself off abruptly, books tumbling out of her arms as she locks eyes with him.

He’s standing in a group of football players, a junior to her sophomore, and he’s big, terrifyingly so, muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. Half the hallway had turned at the commotion of her dropping her books but he hardly spares her a glance, blue eyes glinting cruelly as he gives her an unimpressed once over and turns back to his friends. 

It’s yet another slight, another reason for her to despise him though it does nothing to assuage her fear. She still remembers the feel of him pinning her against a locker, remembers the feel of his hot breath against her ear and the way his friends had jeered and catcalled, names she was used to but that stung all the same.

She doesn’t have to remember the terror- she’s feeling it again right now.

“-vie? Evie? Hello?” Sandy is giving her an exasperated look, Evie’s discarded books are piled in her arms- when did she pick them up? “Earth to Evie! Are you back with us?”

She sounds annoyed but her eyes are dart to a group of senior soc girls who are giggling and whispering behind their hands, then to the football players and him. Sandy’s nervous, she realizes, and then realizes why. They’re already at enough of a disadvantage being greasy girls. They can’t afford to be weird too, and Evie’s already enough of a freak as it is. 

“Sorry,” she forces a smile, takes her stack of books with trembling hands, “sorry I just got a wicked headache all of a sudden.”

“You’re probably dehydrated,”  Sandy seizes her arm and practically drags her down the hallway, head high even as a wave of giggle and whispers claw at them, “it’s thirty degrees out, an’ you’re wearin’ long sleeves like you ain’t never seen Oklahoma summer before.”

“Yeah,” Evie ignores the twinge of her wrist and the pounding of her heart, “I bet that’s it.”

*****************

She spends the rest of the day jumpy and tense. Sandy tires of her newfound jitters quickly and jumps on an invitation from Kelsey Morrone to go out for a smoke a little too eagerly. Evie hardly has it in herself to mind.

She doesn’t start to calm down until last period and it’s only because Mr. Horton’s geography class is so boring it trumps all other emotions. Sandy isn’t in this class either, which means they can’t even write notes to pass the time.

Her anxiety ramps up the second the bell rings. She’s all too aware of the possibility she might run into him in the hallway, and everything in her screams that that cannot happen. She takes extra care as she packs away her things, prolonging the inevitable, and then regrets it when she realizes she has no crowd to blend into as she steps into the hallway. Luckily her locker isn’t too far from the math wing, so she keeps her head down and walks quicker than usual and makes it there without any further disaster.

It’s not until the familiar scent of motor oil and fabric softener envelops her and she feels a slight tug on her braid that she finally relaxes. 

“Hey doll.”

“Hey yourself,” she swats at Steve halfheartedly, tucking her braid back behind her ear from where he’d tossed it over her shoulder.

“Hey,” he takes her hand gently- he’s always gentle with her- and pushes her sleeve up slightly, revealing the horrible mottled purple and blue bruise, “what happened?”

All day she’d sat next to Sandy and she hadn’t noticed a thing. Not a single teacher had glanced at her twice, not even when her english teacher handed back their essays and her sleeve had slipped, and yet Steve had noticed within the first minute of being here.

She looks into his eyes, at the anger hiding beneath his concern, at the scowl twisting his face that had been so happy just this morning, and makes a decision.

Even if she’s spent most of her day waiting for a chance to talk to him, she can’t let Steve Randle fight her battles forever. 

“Nothing,” she pulls her hand away and pulls her sleeve back down, “don’t worry about it.”

“Evie-”

“Steve,” she cuts him off, “it’s fine, really. What’s up?”

“I wanted to know if you an’ Sandy wanted a ride home.” He says, eyes still locked at where her bruise is hidden away under blue fabric. She can tell he desperately wants to ask for more details, just like he knows that she won’t offer any. 

“Ain’t you playin’ chauffeur to your buddies?”

“Not today,” he shakes his head, black hair glinting in the afternoon sun as they meander out the doors. He takes her backpack without seeming to think about it, slinging over his shoulder, and Evie hides her amusement at the fact that for all he’s a tough greaser he’s secretly a gentleman, “Two-bit’s takin’ the kid and Johnny, an’ Soda’s walkin’ over to the DX for work.”

“Well Sandy’s got plans with Carmen,” Evie tells him, “But I wouldn’t say no to a ride.”

Some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders when she mentions Sandy’s busy. It’s no secret he’s not exactly a fan of her, thinks she’s sharper than she needs to be with Evie and hates her for it, the stupidly protective person that he is, not realizing that’s just who Sandy is. Still, it was nice of him to extend the invitation to her in the first place. She wonders for the millionth time how Steve got a reputation for being an asshole when he does stuff like offer a girl he hates a ride home without thinking, just because she’s a friend of Evie’s. 

“You wanna stop for a milkshake on the way home?” Steve asks, tossing their bags in the back seat, and rolling down the window. If it was hot outside, it’s a million degrees in the car, but she fights the urge to roll up her sleeves, not wanting to give him a better look at her bruise if she can help it. “I’ll pay.”

She considers his offer. First of all, damn him for knowing her so well- ice cream has always been her biggest weakness. Normally she’d say yes without hesitation, but his offer today is very obviously a ploy, a scheme, a bribe if you will, to trick her into talking about the bruise and Him, and she has decided already that she won’t. To sit across from Steve, while he looks at her with sad eyes and tries to sweet talk her into talking is not part of her plan. 

“Not today,” she shakes her head and offers him a smile, “I'm beat.”

“I can see that,” he mutters under his breath, but doesn’t protest, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

It’s a quiet ride home. Normally they’d chat and tease each other, but Steve’s mood is sour and she’s hesitant to start a conversation because she’s famously bad at keeping secrets and Steve knows that better than anyone. If he got her talking, sooner or later she’d let something slip and all bets would be off.

Fifteen minutes later he pulls up in front of her house and cuts the engine with a sigh.

“Thanks for the ride,” she presses a kiss to his cheek and goes to leave.

“Wait, Eves,” he catches her hand, the rough calluses on his skin at odds with the softness of the movement, “just- you know I got your back, right? No matter what.”

He’s so earnest, so worried. 

“Yeah,” she smiles, heart swelling with gratitude for this dumb boy who came into her life and never thought once about leaving, “I know.”

He holds her gaze a moment more and nods, clearing his throat abruptly.

“I’ll give you a ride to school tomorrow. Sandy’s welcome too if she wants.”

“Thanks.” She smiles, squeezing his hand and trying to put all her gratitude into it before she lets him go, closing the door gently behind her.

He doesn’t drive away until she’s safely inside, the door locked behind her. He never does.

***********

“Mornin’ doll.”

“Mornin’,” she hands him a piece of still warm bannock wrapped in a tea towel, and he shoves half of it into his mouth in one bite, humming appreciatively. If there’s one thing she knows Steve loves, it’s her mom’s baking.

He inhales the rest of the bread before speaking.

“Sandy comin’?” 

“Nah, she’s gettin’ a ride with Carmen.”

He nods and starts the engine, the car coming to life with a purr. It’s not as quiet as some of the socs fancy ass cars, but it’s the quietest tin can in all the east side and it’s all because of Steve’s magic with mechanics. She always feels an unearned swell of pride on his behalf whenever she sits in this car, stupid as it is.

It’s not until they’re halfway to Will Rodgers that she notices Steve’s hands are torn up and bruised, every knuckle split. 

They definitely weren’t like that yesterday.

“You get into a rumble or somethin’ last night? What happened to your hands?”

“Oh, that,” Steve waves a ruined hand dismissively, “don’t worry about it.”

“Steve-”

“Evie-” he mocks, flipping their argument from yesterday, “really. It’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine, that ain’t what I asked!”

He pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine before turning to her with a sigh, 

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I heard a rumour somewhere that some of the football team- a certain captain in particular- have started to get a bit brazen in how they’ve been treating some east side girls. And Sylvia Devares seemed to think maybe Angel had mentioned something about you showin’ up late to spanish last week and shaking like a spooked horse. So me’n the boys decided it was time to have a little talk with the dear captain and his buddies.”

“You didn’t have to do that," gratitude and shame swirl in her gut, “I can’t expect you to fight my battles forever.”

He lets out an inelegant snort.

“Of course you can,” he says, so matter-of-fact she couldn’t argue with him if she wanted to, “I meant what I said yesterday: I always got your back. Always. Even if you don’t wanna talk about things, I’m always gonna be here for you.”

Yeah, she realizes, he really is, always has been always will be. It doesn’t matter if she’s a pushover or not, he’ll always have her back.

How did she get so lucky?

[velvetvexations]

I have nothing against op but "sucks that trans women are having to support trans men :/" is just wild. When 90% of posts about transmisogyny end with "and that's why trans men suck", who is really putting the conversation about transmisogyny on hold for trans men? Probably the people who keep making transmisogyny about trans men??

Queer discourse always sucks, it sucks that members of our own community always have to defend each other against each other, but it's also kind of our responsibility to defend each other and anyone who's not a complete asshole will get that. So to be like "I'm sorry that you with your higher concerns have to debase yourselves for little ol us" is weird!!

I get your point and agree with it, but I do think you're reading a bit much into the post. I understand that they were framing it as it being a burden trans women are shouldering, taking away time and energy that could be spent on their own specific issues. You read that correctly. Nonetheless, I feel there's a broader context to take into account.

Transmascs are bombarded with messaging that makes quite a lot of them need transfems to have to tell them that no, they're not misogynistic for existing, and those transfems then have to use their relative authority in the discussion as the people claimed to be the Most Victim to shoot that shit down. I don't consider that a burden on me, but rather an exhausting and frustrating situation to be in for transmascs having to rely on the transfems vocally in their favor to tell people to knock it off because their own voices are diminished and it puts them in a very demeaning position.

So I think all that plays a part in the OP's feelings which I find understandable and coming from a place of more than just "it sucks trans women are having to show solidarity." It sucks having to go to your sister and ask her to get your bullies to leave you alone. It makes you feel guilty for relying on her and it makes you feel less powerful for not being able to do it yourself.

I think in retrospect I really regret not having added anything to it because you are right that solidarity should be the default expectation and I don't want transmascs to feel like their problems are a burden. I love my brothers and it's my sincere pleasure to advocate for them.

Truthfully, if not for this discourse I would be just about useless to the world. I can't advocate for my own issues, not only lacking the circumstances to even attempt doing anything IRL if I wanted to but also being horrifically triggered engaging with the outside world unless I ignore it as much as possible. When I used Reddit as my primary social media outlet I literally had lowkey PTSD from how many times I was accidentally exposed to news stories and had to be very careful to avoid them.

But so many people tell me I have a positive impact on them and their life. As much as I hate these circumstances, I'm happy to have found something I can do for others, and there's nothing wrong with needing your sister's help. <3

[buckets-and-trees]

I knew Amy would be kind of divisive - potentially/especially with anyone who isn't familiar with her - because she is in West Wing fandom even, but I wanted someone who is a hard ass and takes no prisoners but isn't personal about it. Fresh face consulting with them. Drilled him to get to a different level and gave him a bit of tough love follow up, and there was just a *little bit* of love. 😌 Some people have commented REALLY hating her, but I'm glad you at least don't seem to be throwing daggers at me for her, haha.

But Peter! He respects Steve and wouldn't want him to feel stupid - so yes, being able to give feedback without it being condescending! I loved writing that for them! 🥹

And.... I PROMISE that the next chapter we're going to deal with this revelation head on. So... I want to answer your questions, but they're almost all spoilers if I do! HOWEVER... I think I will say this... They don't take steps back, but they do get re-routed. Like when you make a wrong turn and your GPS has to recalculate. 👀

Red, White & True: DC, Tampa, Athens [5/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Late September means things are only accelerating as election day grows closer. Steve is picking up momentum in the polls, and things heat up on multiple fronts before you hit a bump that may shake up the progress between you and your husband.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: You get another West Wing cameo in this chapter (but totally unnecessary to have ever watched the show). This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

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

[SEPTEMBER 26 - WASHINGTON, DC]

The late September sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campaign's official DC headquarters, casting long shadows across the bustling office space. You're leaning against a desk, watching with amusement as Peter Parker, the youth outreach coordinator who's also become the campaign's unofficial creative director of the TikTok segment of the social media team, attempts to explain the concept for the video to Steve.

"Okay, Cap," Peter says, his enthusiasm palpable as he holds up his phone. "We're going to do a quick transition video. It's super easy, I promise!"

Steve stands in the middle of the room, looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a stark contrast to his usual campaign attire. The goal is to remind the voters that Steve is relatable to the everyday American at the end of the day.

Steve nods, a mixture of bemusement and determination on his face. "Alright, Peter. Walk me through it."

Peter's face lights up. "Okay, so you're going to start in your casual clothes, then you'll spin around. As you spin, we'll cut and you'll change into your suit. When you finish the spin, you'll be in full Captain America mode, then we’ll have you spin and change one more time, and we’ll end the video with you in your presidential get up."

"And this will... resonate with young voters?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's about showing your versatility, Steve. From everyday guy to national hero to the next president in the blink of an eye."

Steve shoots you a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one spinning like a top."

Peter positions Steve in front of the camera. "Okay, Cap. Just spin naturally, and we'll take care of the angles and editing.”

As Steve prepares for his first take, Bucky saunters into the room, a smirk playing on his lips. He sidles up next to you, crossing his arms as he watches his best friend awkwardly position himself in front of the camera.

"I'm sure Steve must be loving this," Bucky murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, suppressing a chuckle. "It's written all over his face."

Indeed, Steve's expression is a fascinating mix of determination and mild discomfort, his brow is furrowed in concentration.

The rapport that’s been developing with Bucky over the last few weeks has also been nice. It’s its own brand of friendship, and it’s not rock solid yet, but it’s growing.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, phone at the ready. "On three. One... two... three!"

Steve begins to spin, his movements a bit stiff in the first take.

Peter's enthusiastic voice cuts through the air. "That was great, Cap! Let's try again,” he encourages, not leaving a beat for Steve to feel awkward or like he’s done it wrong. You can tell his approach will make all the difference with Steve.

As Steve prepares for another take, you can't help but admire his willingness to step out of his comfort zone. It's one of the things that's made him such an effective candidate - his ability to adapt and connect with people across generations.

"Okay, this time, try to relax a bit more," Peter suggests. "Just have fun with it!"

Steve spares a glance at you and Bucky, then takes a deep breath, shaking out his arms. "Right. Fun. I can do fun."

Bucky snorts beside you. "This ought to be good."

As Peter counts down again, Steve starts his spin. This time, his movements are smoother, more natural.

"Perfect!" Peter exclaims. "That's the one. Now, let's get you into your tac suit for the next part."

Steve nods, heading towards the makeshift changing area set up in the corner of the room. As he disappears behind the partition, Bucky leans in closer to you.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Steve would be doing social media stunts," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "He's come a long way from the kid who could barely talk to girls in Brooklyn."

You smile, picturing a young Steve Rogers, all skinny limbs and earnest determination. "I bet he was endearing," you say.

Bucky chuckles. "Oh, he was. A real charmer. Couldn't string two words together around a pretty dame, but he had a heart of gold." He pauses, his expression growing more serious. "It's good to see him like this, you know? Engaged with the world, trying new things and connecting with people again. For a while after the Blip, I worried he’d ride off into the sunset forever before the sunset was even really here. We’re out of the century we were supposed to live in, but we’re still here, y’know? Didn’t think it would be this, but it’s not all bad. Pepper wasn’t wrong in choosing him for who he is inside.”

You nod, understanding. “When I met with her about the campaign, she’d sent me the policy materials, the plans, the opposition research detailing his strengths and weaknesses as a candidate, and I was on board to take any position she offered me on the campaign team. I never imagined working on a presidential run, but her vision, her approach? I knew I wanted to be part of it.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I thought… wait…” he’s mulling over what you said. “So, when you came in, you didn’t know she wanted you to marry Steve?”

You laugh and shake your head, “Oh, no! Because that would have been crazy! Who would agree to that?”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly at your revelation. "But you just... agreed on the spot when she proposed it?"

You pause, considering how to respond. The truth is, it had been a whirlwind decision, one that you sometimes still can't believe you made. "Not exactly on the spot," you say carefully. "But...pretty quickly, yeah. It was a lot to take in, but something about it just felt right, you know?"

Bucky nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get it. Steve has that effect on people. Makes you want to follow him into any fight, even if it's not your own."

Before you can respond, Sam walks in, eyebrows raised at the scene before him. "How’re things going here? I hear we’re starting a dance troupe?"

Bucky chuckles. "Social media campaign. Apparently, the kids these days like watching people spin around and change clothes."

Sam shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Glad I’m not going to miss it.”

“I’m suggesting you go in as back up dancer.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes! You know I’d do it!”

You laugh at the easy banter between Steve’s two best friends, but then the man himself emerges from behind the partition, now clad in his tactical suit. The sight of him in the red, white, and blue outfit isn’t new, but as it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed as Captain America in person, it unexpectedly takes your breath away a little.

Steve takes his position again, looking more at ease now in his familiar uniform. "How's this, Peter?" Steve calls out, adjusting the shield on his arm.

Peter gives him a thumbs up and starts the countdown. This time, Steve's spin is confident and fluid, ending with a slight smirk that's pure Captain America.

"Nailed it!" Peter cheers. "Okay, one more outfit change and we're done."

“Hang on!” Sam calls out. His eyes light up as he looks between you and Steve, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got a golden opportunity here."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Sam rubs his hands together. "Picture this: Captain America, in full uniform, getting a kiss from his lovely wife. It's the perfect Instagram moment!"

Steve's eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Sam, I don't think-"

"No, no, hear me out," Sam interrupts, warming to his theme. "We've been pushing the whole 'relatable Steve' angle, right? Well, what's more relatable than a guy getting a kiss from his wife? Plus, it ties in the Cap persona.”

Peter's face lights up at the suggestion. "Oh man, that's genius! The engagement would be off the charts!"

Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and you don’t know how to feel about it either. "I don't know, guys. Isn't that a bit... much?"

Bucky chimes in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, give the people what they want."

“Et tu, Brute?” you direct this to Bucky, not at all surprised at the enthusiasm from Sam and Peter, but genuinely shocked he’s jumping on board as well.

Sam turns to you, his expression a mix of excitement and mischief. "What do you say? Want to break the internet with a kiss from Captain America?"

You hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, the idea of kissing Steve - even for a staged photo - sends a flutter through your stomach. On the other, you're acutely aware of the artificiality of the situation and the potential implications for the campaign.

You glance at Steve. His expression is unreadable, but you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam, sensing your hesitation, softens his approach. "Look, I know it might seem a bit much, but think about it. We've been working so hard to show Steve as both the hero and the everyday man. This could be a perfect blend of both."

Peter nods enthusiastically. "I think a good candid shot would be a great way to humanize the campaign. Show that even Captain America has a soft side."

You look back at Steve, and he gives a small nod. You see a mix of emotions in his eyes - uncertainty, but also a hint of something else. Trust, perhaps. "If you're okay with it, I am."

"I’m good," you agree, your heart rate picking up slightly.

Sam claps his hands together. "Great! Peter, get ready with that camera."

As Peter positions himself, you step closer to Steve. He reaches out, gently placing his hands on your waist. The tactical suit feels cool under your fingertips as you place a hand on his chest. You can feel the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ready?" Steve murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, managing a small smile. "Let’s do this," you reply once more because this is its own ‘public appearance’, and so the customary exchange only seems fitting.

Steve’s hands move from your waist around to your back, and he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended there in his arms.

“Kiss her, punk!” Bucky shouts, and the electric moment is broken, but you both laugh, and then Steve dips you dramatically and kisses you soundly as you clutch his shoulders. The three men cheer enthusiastically and cat call you when the kiss goes on just another moment or two.

As Steve stands you back up, you both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissolving into genuine mirth and camaraderie. His arm is still around your waist, steadying you as you regain your balance. The warmth of his body radiates through the tactical suit, and you find yourself leaning into him slightly, your soft, round body pressing into his hard muscles.

"So, Peter," Steve calls out, his voice still tinged with amusement, "did we nail that shot, or do you need us to try again?" There's a playful glint in his eye as he says this, and you can't help but grin up at him.

Peter, looking slightly flustered but undeniably excited, nods enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, Cap! That was perfect! The internet is going to go crazy over this!"

You start to step away, ready to return to your spot by the desk, but Steve surprises you by gently pulling you back, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. The room seems to fall away as he gazes into your eyes, a softness in his expression that you've rarely seen before. Time slows as he leans in, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, his calloused thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The scent of him envelops you - a mixture of leather from the suit, a hint of aftershave, and something uniquely Steve.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

Steve's lips brush yours, soft and tentative at first. It's different from the performative kiss moments ago - this feels real, intimate. You respond instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

Suddenly, you're jolted back to reality by the sound of a throat clearing loudly.

You and Steve break apart, both slightly breathless. The room crashes back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the others watching. Sam has a knowing smirk on his face. Peter looks like he might explode from excitement.

"Well," Sam says, breaking the silence. "I think we've got more than enough material for social media now."

You step back from Steve, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Steve clears his throat, looking slightly flustered himself.

"Right," he says, his voice a bit rough. "I should, uh, go change for the final spin shot."

As Steve disappears behind the partition again, you catch Bucky's eye. He gives you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's no time to dwell on it as Peter starts setting up for the final shot.

You return to your spot by the desk and try compose yourself. Your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you can't shake the memory of Steve's touch.

Bucky sidles up next to you, his voice low as Sam and Peter talk next to you. "That was quite a show," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. "It's all part of the job, right?" you say, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Before you can say anything else, Steve emerges from behind the partition, now dressed in one of his presidential suits - a sharp navy number that accentuates his broad shoulders. You can't help but admire how he carries himself. He exudes a quiet confidence, as ever, a perfect blend of the everyday man and the leader of the free world.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, "let's nail this final spin!"

Steve takes his position, and as he begins to turn, you find yourself holding your breath. The transformation is mesmerizing - from casual Rogers to Captain America to Presidential Candidate, but all of them undeniably Steve.

[SEPTEMBER 27 - TAMPA, FLORIDA]

The campaign has rented out an entire floor of a hotel for debate prep, transforming the spacious suites into makeshift war rooms as Tampa provides some key and convenient access to key southern cities by plane. Maps, charts, and policy briefings cover every available surface, and the air hums with the energy of a team on a mission.

Jake Sullivan, Steve's chief strategist, has pulled out all the stops for this crucial phase of debate preparation. He's brought in Amy Gardner, a seasoned political operative known for her sharp wit and take-no-prisoners approach. Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy commands the room, even though she sits rather casually in an armchair ten feet from Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy paces the room, firing off rapid-fire questions at Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

"What's your plan for addressing climate change?" Jake asks, his voice stern.

Steve responds confidently, "We need to transition to clean energy sources while also supporting workers in traditional energy sectors. My plan includes..."

Amy cuts him off, her tone brusque. "Too long. You've got 60 seconds max. Hit the key points and move on."

Steve nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Clean energy transition. Support for affected workers. Immediate action on emissions reduction."

“Too succinct,” she says.

Steve frowns, clearly trying to find the right balance. Squaring his shoulders, he goes again. "Our climate plan has three key components: First, an aggressive transition to clean energy sources like wind and solar. Second, robust support and retraining for workers in affected industries. And third, immediate action to reduce emissions across all sectors. This isn't just about saving the planet - it's about creating jobs and securing America's energy independence for generations to come."

Amy nods approvingly. "Better. Now, pivot to how this contrasts with your opponent's stance."

Steve's brow furrows in concentration. "Unlike my Republican opponent, who continues to deny the reality of climate change, my plan acknowledges the crisis we face while also prioritizing American workers and innovation. We can't afford to stick our heads in the sand any longer."

"Decent," Amy says, her tone softening slightly.

“Only decent?”

“You didn’t address the Democrats’ policy. Your battle is to convince enough voters in America to break with over two hundred years of choosing between red or blue.”

You can see Steve is fighting back a sigh of frustration.

"Mr. Rogers, your opponent claims your lack of formal political experience makes you unqualified for the presidency. How do you respond?"

Steve takes a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "My experience may not be traditional, but it's been forged in the crucible of protecting this nation and its values. I've led teams through impossible situations, made tough decisions with global consequences, and always put the American people first. That's the kind of leadership experience that truly matters."

Amy nods, but doesn't let up. "Good, but tighten it up. You need to hit harder on your unique qualifications. How do you respond to critics who say your experience is outdated?"

"I'd say that my unique perspective allows me to see both where we've been and where we need to go," Steve begins, his voice steady. "I've seen this country at its best and its worst. I understand the challenges we face because I've lived through similar ones before. But I also understand the incredible potential of our future because I've seen how far we've come."

You can’t help but feel inspired by that answer, but Amy's eyes narrow, her expression sharpening. "Not bad, but you're still playing it too safe. Your opponents will come at you hard. Let's ramp this up."

She stands and begins pacing in front of Steve like a shark. "Mr. Rogers, your critics say you're nothing more than a science experiment gone right. How can you claim to represent the average American when you're literally superhuman?"

Steve's jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I may have enhanced abilities, but my values and my heart are as human as anyone's. I grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I know what it's like to struggle, to feel powerless. The serum didn't change that part of me."

Your heart swells, but again Any interjects again.

"Weak," she says, her voice cutting. "You're not connecting. Try again."

Your mouth drops open slightly. That was powerful. You know it was.

Steve takes a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he grips the podium. “I’m not a monkey on a unicycle.”

“Well, what a great start. No one wants a monkey in the White House,” she deadpans.

“I don’t need this. We did just fine in the first debate without you,” Steve nearly growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were aiming for just fine, I thought you wanted to win.”

Steve's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and frustration. The tension in the room is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. You can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I'm not here to play games or put on a show," Steve says, his voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm here because I believe in this country and what it can be. I've fought for it, bled for it, and yes, even died for it. So don't tell me I'm not connecting."

Amy opens her mouth to retort, but Steve cuts her off.

"I've seen this nation at its best and its worst," Steve goes again, his voice growing louder, more impassioned as he speaks. "I've watched it rise from the ashes of the Great Depression, triumph over fascism, and push the boundaries of human achievement. But I've also seen it torn apart by fear, prejudice, and greed."

His eyes blaze with an intensity that seems to electrify the air around him. The room falls silent, everyone transfixed by the raw emotion in his words.

"I may have been enhanced by science, but my heart, my values - they come from growing up as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn who couldn't stand by and watch bullies win. They come from the men and women I fought alongside, who gave their lives for the ideals this country stands for."

Steve's fist comes down on the podium with a resounding thud, causing several people to jump.

"I'm running for president not because I think I'm better than anyone else, but because I believe in the promise of America - a promise that's been broken too many times for too many people. I've seen what this country can do when we come together, when we fight for what's right. And I'm here to tell you, we can do it again."

Steve's voice rings out, filled with passion and conviction. The room is dead silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"So no, I'm not a traditional politician. I don't have decades of experience playing political games or making backroom deals. What I have is a lifetime of standing up for what's right, of putting others before myself, of believing that we can always be better. I'm running because I believe in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things when given the chance."

He pauses, his chest heaving slightly as he looks around the room. The silence is deafening, everyone ensnared by the raw power of his words.

"That's what this campaign is about," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "It's about reminding every American that they have the power to shape this nation's future. That their voice matters, their dreams matter, this country over politicians and political agendas. It’s not a show to me.”

Steve strides away from the podium and walks out, and no one stops him. No one even moves until the weighted door to the suite swings closed again. Jake and Elsa begin conferring. Amy seems unconcerned. You’re sitting with Bucky and Sam, who exchange a look, and Bucky moves to stand, but you’re quicker.

“Let me go after him,” you find yourself saying, surprised at how fast you were to seize this situation, almost like a natural instinct.

You hurry out of the room, scanning the hallway for any sign of Steve. You catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders disappearing around a corner and quicken your pace to catch up.

"Steve!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

He stops, his back still to you, shoulders tense. As you approach, he turns slowly to face you. The fire in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a weariness that tugs at your heart.

"Hey," you say softly, closing the distance between you. "That was... intense back there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just..." He trails off, shaking his head.

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Amy was pushing hard. Maybe too hard."

He looks down at your hand, then up to your face. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’ve told everyone you’re fine every day of your life, Steve Rogers, and no one needs to exist like that.”

Steve cocks his chin slightly. “But the President of the United States should have it together, shouldn’t they? People want a leader they can trust.”

You smile, but it’s not a happy smile, and his expression matches yours.

“Can I ask…?” you venture cautiously.

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

Wife. A flutter flares in your stomach, but you force yourself to concentrate on the moment, furiously tamping down your reaction.

He resumes walking down the hallway, but more slowly this time, and you fall into step with him as you pursue your curiosity. “A monkey on a unicycle is an oddly specific and highly uncommon comparison to bring up. Is that some reference from your time?”

Steve huffs and his eyes fill with a mix of nostalgia and resentment as he begins to speak. His voice is heavy with emotion as he remembers his past. “I used to sketch a lot when I was young. We didn't have much during the depression, but my ma always managed to scrimp and save enough to buy me a notebook for Christmas or my birthday. It stuck with me up through joining the Army.”

His expression turns somber as he continues, "And after the serum changed my body but I was put on tour to encourage people to buy bonds, it just felt...underwhelming. Discouraging. I knew I could be doing more, making a real difference. But I did what I could - I knew raising money still helped.”

You reach the end of the hallway and stand next to each other, looking out the window.

“When they sent us out to Europe to entertain the troops, it only got worse. The last day I performed, for the 107th regiment, I was heckled and booed off stage."

Steve's hands clench into fists at his sides, "I drew a silly picture of a monkey riding a unicycle; it felt like that's all I was worth to them - just another pawn in their production."

You want to reach for his hand, but it doesn’t seem like the moment. So you simply continue to listen.

“That ended up being the last day I performed a show. I found out part of the company had been captured, stuck behind enemy lines. I disobeyed direct orders, found the men, saved Bucky. After that, everything finally changed, and we got to go to work, doing good, fighting Nazis and Hydra.”

A slight smile tugs at Steve's lips as he finishes his story, "I never wanted to feel like that monkey again. But the closer we get to election day, the more this feels like just a production.”

You stay silent for a moment, mulling over the pieces of his past and the feelings he’s just shared. This isn’t an easy conversation, and it’s not the conversation you thought you would have coming out here, but you’re grateful the two of you are having it together.

You aren’t by any means a seasoned politician either, but you had seen and had to at some points play at politics in your own work. “It’s all a show, there’s no denying that. But you’re not the monkey unless you sit back and let that be the reality.”

“How do you figure that?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding. "Steve, you knew from the beginning that this campaign would be a production. You agreed to it - all of it. Including," you gesture between the two of you, your voice softening, "this arrangement. Marrying a woman you'd never even met before."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passing through them. You continue, your voice gentle but firm.

"You didn't do all this just to be a figurehead or a puppet. You did it because you want to be president. You want to be the one steering the strategy, calling the shots, making real change." You pause, making sure he's really listening. "This campaign isn't just about winning an election. It's preparation for the presidency itself."

You turn to face him fully, your eyes never leaving his. "This campaign, as frustrating and exhausting as it can be, is its own kind of preparation for the presidency. Think about it - you're dealing with conflicting advice, responding to the platforms from the candidates and how they overlap and differ from your own, connecting directly with the people across the country, making tough calls on what is and is not a priority.”

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considers your words. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, processing this perspective.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I did agree to all of this." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you've noticed he has when he's deep in thought. "I just want it to mean something. To be more than just sound bites and photo ops."

You nod, understanding his frustration. "It does mean something, Steve. Every interaction you have, every speech you give, every policy you propose - it all matters. You're not just going through the motions. You're shaping the conversation, influencing people's thoughts and beliefs about what this country can be."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper there.

"She’s right, Rogers,” a voice behind you makes you both jump and turn.

“This isn't just about winning,” Amy emphasizes. “It's about learning how to navigate the complexities of leading a nation, finding your presence as the leader of the free world, as commander in chief, winning the trust of the American people.

“The debates, the press conferences, the tough decisions you'll have to make as president - they won't always be fair or comfortable. That’s why I pushed you. You won’t answer every debate question like that, but I needed to know you could go there. That’s the kind of president America wants, but they don’t know it until they see it. If you can shake them to their bones, you’ll change hearts and minds.”

Steve smiles at her half in kindness, half in disbelief. “You say all of that pretty casually.”

Amy shrugs and returns the smile. “Because it’s true. I’m done beating you up now that I know you can go the rounds. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’m game to stay if you’re game for slightly less intense verbal sparring.”

“Oh, I can do this all day.”

[SEPTEMBER 28 - ATHENS, GEORGIA]

The campaign plane hums with activity in the minutes before take off. This cabin is filled with members of the press corps, their laptops open and fingers poised over keyboards, eager for any morsel of information they can turn into their next headlines.

Steve looks almost relaxed. His tie is loosened and sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The energy from the successful event you just wrapped up at the University of Georgia still lingers in the air. This was the fourth event of its kind - a town hall format called College Q&A limited to students and granting them access to dialogue with Steve. You can't help but feel a sense of pride as you recall how he connected with the students, his earnest answers and quick wit seeming to win over even the most skeptical audience members.

It’s become routine that Steve always takes questions from the press corps when he boards the plane before heading to the campaign team cabin, and he’s truly at ease with them in this interaction.

“We’ll take one more,” the campaign spokesperson announces to let both Steve and the reporters know it’s almost time for take off.

“Andy,” Steve calls on one of the familiar faces - the reporter from The Washington Post.

“Yes, Captain, do you have any response to Jeff Connor’s comments about your relationship with Mrs. Rogers?”

Steve's whole demeanor immediately turns serious, his jaw clenching. "I haven't heard Connor's specific comments, so I can't respond directly. My relationship with my wife is personal, and it's not up for debate or speculation."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

The press corps erupts with follow-up questions, but Jake holds up a hand. "That's all for now, folks, you know they won’t take off until we’re all seated and we don’t want to miss our take-off window. Thank you."

You, Steve, and the rest of your staff head into the first campaign cabin, and as soon as the door is shut, the atmosphere shifts. The professional masks slip away, replaced by a mix of concern, curiosity, and irritation. Jake immediately pulls out his phone, you assume to get the quote in question.

Elsa, your communications director, is already pulling out her laptop as she settles into a seat across from Steve. "That was the perfect response back there. Quick and heartfelt. It'll play well, especially given the context of Connor's comments."

Your personal aide Sophia is already handing you a tablet to read the quote. "Here, ma’am. It came out during the Q&A, and everyone got wind of it as we were boarding the plane."

You take the tablet, your eyes quickly scanning the headline: "Jeff Connor Speaks Out: 'I Hope They're Happy Together'" The article features a quote from Connor: "I wish them both the best. Marriage isn't easy, especially in the public eye. I just hope they've found happiness together."

You pass it over to Steve and then chew on your lip, pulling out your own phone.

It only takes him a moment to read as well. "Thanks,” Steve's brow furrows as he loosens his tie further and passes the tablet back to Sophia. “This seems fine, unless I’m missing something. But who is this guy, and why would we care what he thinks of our marriage more than anyone else?"

A beat of silence falls over the cabin. You can feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you, a mixture of surprise and shock in their gazes.

“Okay, I’m clearly the only one who doesn’t know,” Steve concedes, a shade of irritation bleeding through his tone, “Anyone care to enlighten me?”

You take a steadying breath, then look up at Steve and say, “Jeff Connor is my former husband.”

next part: coming 11/29

I'll just say that I've been waiting for this chapter in the story almost from the beginning. 😌

↠ 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!

[lucozaynkisses]

A guide to being the local fashion icon 🐆

1. THRIFT THRIFT THRIFT!

I am someone who lives for unique clothing. My biggest tip ever for anyone who wants to stand out and be more fashionable is to start thrifting. Not only is it beyond fun this is a place where you can get pieces no one else has for CHEAP. nothing feels better than finding ur dream clothing piece at a thrift store. And you can get high quality clothing for way cheaper than a new poor quality item you get online. I’ve thrifted since forever so I might post thrifting tips soon.

2. Do a closet cleanout

It is so important to get rid of clothes you won’t wear anymore. I struggle with this and found myself keeping clothes as “backup” so much that I ended up with filled to the brim drawers full of clothes I find extremely ugly or that I just didn’t ever wear anymore. And this caused me to forget the nice clothes I have and only wear the same outfits all the time because I couldn’t find my other clothes. So GET RID OF CLOTHES!

3. Find your staples

My staples include black boots, leather jackets, denim jackets, and a few good pairs of jeans. Now this can be completely different for you. You need to figure out what the items are most needed for the outfits that go with your style.

4. Avoid shopping on SHEIN

Hear me out. I used to be a shein addict and I know how addictive it can be to buy cute clothes for cheap. But I just don’t find it worth it at all anymore. And I don’t even own any of the hundreds of clothes I bought on Shein anymore because the ones I wore often got ugly crazy fast. I hate to be the one to say it but you can almost always tell when a clothing piece is from shein. Now you do you, but if we’re talking about being that it girl, the one who always looks so cool and stylish and somehow nobody does it like her, buying quality clothing is key. Trust me you can find a better option at the thrift for almost anything you’re buying from shein. Shein also mostly sells clothes that will go out style in a few months.

5. don’t put yourself in a box

Create your style without trapping yourself in an aesthetic. The beauty of fashion is you can always try new things and be creative and express yourself through it. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Wear something a little different every now and then if you feel like it. You don’t need to dress a specific way all the time.

6. Find inspiration

One thing I like to do is to write down the people whose style I like so that I can get inspiration from them and see what I can take away from their fashion choices. Another thing I do is making a Pinterest board for every season every year that way I can look at it when I want ideas.

7. Shop with a goal in mind

A lot of the times we end up buying things we barely wear because we bought it just for the sake of buying something. I like to keep a list of things I really want t and look for those specific things when I’m shopping to avoid buying things I don’t actually want.

8. Add a bit of color to your outfits

Look, I am someone who literally only ever wears neutral colors. But the times I choose to add a bit of color to my outfits it upgrades them so much. I mostly do this with red because it’s pretty much the only bold color I don’t despise. But a bolder color can really make ur outfits stand out so much more. This works best if it’s only 1 specific part of ur look.

9. Accessorize

I know we hear this all the time but accessories really brings an outfit together. You can have the most basic outfit, but if you add some jewelry, a bag, and a pair of sunglasses it suddenly looks not basic at all. Or maybe you add a cute belt. Accessorizing is key to spicing up your outfits.

10. Find a makeup that fits you

Recently I’ve been loving a 90’s makeup look. I think finding a makeup style that suits you changes everything. I don’t feel complete if I’m not wearing some lip combo. So try out different makeup styles and see what you like best.

11. Have one interesting factor in ur outfit

Having one thing that stands out from the rest of ur outfit makes it so much more unique. This can be anything from a pattern, to a texture, to a color etc. having only ONE is important because it makes your outfit interesting but keeps it from looking messy.

Hope this helps u become a fashion diva 🫶🏼🙂‍↔️

Xo, Ary 💋

[gamercookies]

Giving thanks for..

Genre: smut, enemies to lovers.

Word count:2.8k+

Warnings: rough!ni-ki, shy!y/n, fingering “under the table”, worshipping, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, praising, throat-fucking, hate-fuck.  Note: I love making these stories idk why but they peak my interest so much!! I know it’s not thanksgiving yet but imma be busy on those days I’m off, but plz enjoy :3 and take care of urself 💕🙏🏼

You’ve been enemies for a really long time. Ni-ki, which you couldn't stand him, had been teasing and humiliating you throughout school. But then, out of the blue, he invited you to his family's Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, there would be the usual “I‘m grateful for…” moments, so you figured nothing too surprising would unfold, right?

Today you were just chilling at home alone while your parents were at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving dinner, you felt bored, alone. Of course you didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like it. But once you finished an hour call with them, you stared up at the ceiling from the bed. 

You sigh in boredom, sitting back up from the bed. “What am I gonna do, I’m all alone.. I guess I can make dinner for myself and watch some Netflix or something.” Suddenly you receive a notification from your phone, you assume “oh! Maybe my parents sent a picture of themselves!” You check but your excited expression turns into shock and confusion.. it says: “Hey y/n, sorry to annoy you as always lol 😂, but anyways I was wondering if you’re interested in coming over to my house for thanksgiving I have no one to enjoy besides my parents.” 

“What?! Ni-ki.. he seriously invited you to his thanksgiving dinner, seriously?” You tell yourself blankly staring at the message for minutes. You roll your eyes and reply: 

“Fine. 😒Only because I also have nothing to do, fine I’ll come over. What time?” 

He types back: “Around 6PM, it will just be a normal thanksgiving, nothing out of the ordinary. 😊” 

… 

It’s 6PM and you’ve just arrived in front of his home, and you ring the doorbell. You stand there waiting for him or someone to open. You know you look stunning in that red dress, which perfectly highlights your curves without being overly short. Then Niki opens the door, “Hey y/n, come on in, I’ll introduce you to my parents.” As he gestured you to walk in. “Thank you.” You say, as he shuts the front door leading you to the dining table. You see a neatly organized dinning table, with a candle in the middle.  

Ni-ki clears this throat and speaks, “Mom, dad. This is y/n, a “friend” of mine I invited, I hope you guys don’t mind her.” His mom replies, “N-no we don’t mind! Hello, y/n. Please I don’t mind you inviting her over, please sit down and join us for dinner today.” You look at his mother and smile politely, as you take your seat. “Hello, Mrs. It’s nice to meet you, it’s kind enough of your son to invite me over, since my parents are at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving.” His father speaks behalf, “Oh no worries! That’s very nice of our son to do that, inviting someone like you over, you seem a very well polite girl so there’s no harm in that.” Ni-ki then sits down next to you, “Yeah, I felt like that’s a nice thing to do behalf that it’s thanksgiving, we should be kind to each other, right y/n?” As he says that sarcastically. 

You feel a bit nervous about meeting his parents, but you manage to smile and nod. “Of course, it's a good thing to invite friends over." You say softly, trying not to show how anxious you really feel. To pass the time waiting for the dinner his parents and especially you talk about how you’ve been, your parents, mostly about your life. But then his father asks, “Do you have a boyfriend yet, young lady?” 

You blush slightly, feeling a little embarrassed by the question. "Well, I haven't found anyone who really catches my interest yet," you admit shyly.

"Maybe one day soon though!" You add quickly, hoping to change the subject before things get too awkward. 

But it gets interrupted as soon as the food arrives. You smell all of the delicious aromas wafting from the dishes. "Wow... everything looks amazing!" You exclaim enthusiastically, trying to cover up your earlier blunder. “Who’s cutting the turkey today?” 

Niki looks around, his parents and you seem to be waiting for someone to cut into the turkey. He takes a deep breath and stands up. "I'll do it," he announces confidently. "After all, it's Thanksgiving.” With that said, he walks over to where the turkey is sitting and grabs a knife. He gives it one swift stroke, carving off a piece of meat before placing it onto a plate. You can’t help but deny the way he looks in that suit, the way he picks up that knife, it’s like you wanna touch him.

But you then take a bite of some turkey and gravy - it's even better than it smells! As you all savor the meal throughout the evening, saying what you’re grateful for, besides Niki.. and of course, remembering to keep dinner etiquette in mind, everything was smooth. But soon enough you feel ni-ki leaning against you, his hot breath in your ear. “You look damn good in this dress.. I can’t help but notice it so much.” You blush deeply at his compliment, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not used to receiving compliments like this, especially not from someone as attractive as him. “T-thanks.. I mean I have to look presentable to your parents..” After you finish your food, you place your fork down gently and lean back in your chair. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Was the food good, sweetie? I made it this morning.” His mother smiles softly at you. 

Before you could respond, you feel a hand sliding up and down your thigh making you gasp quietly. “What the..” you mutter to yourself, as Ni-ki continues doing that under the table. You try to play it cool despite losing focus on the conversation. 

"O-oh, your food was amazing!", you respond sincerely, doing your best to ignore Ni-ki’s wandering hand. "I've never had such delicious mashed potatoes before..." He then leans over you and whispers with a small smirk, “I didn’t invite you just for a normal thanksgiving, I also wanted something else.. to tease and make you feel humiliated in front of my parents.” But then, Ni-ki’s mother speaks trying to get your attention, “Sweetie? You okay..? I was asking you where do you plan to go for vacation next month with your parents?” Ni-ki then slides your panties aside and inserts 2 fingers inside you without warning.

“O-oh! I was thinking maybe Thailand-ah!” You say making you blush in embarrassment, “Sorry about that.. it’s just something accidentally hit me. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, doing your best to keep a neutral expression. 

“Thailand sounds lovely! It’s a wonderful place to travel.. when I was young..” she continues talking while you continue trying to hold your moans infront of them two. “Ni-ki.. stop that.. it’s embarrassing..” you whisper to him. “Come on~ your pussy deserves my fingers in you now, you make me crave you so much in that dress.” He says in a low, sultry voice. 

His mother notices the blush on your face and the discomfort in your voice, but assumes it's due to the heat of the room or perhaps nervousness from being in new surroundings.

"Oh dear, I apologize if we're making you uncomfortable. We just love sharing stories about our travels!", she says reassuringly. 

“N-no Mrs.. it’s not your fault it’s just it’s a bit hot right now.”, as you manage to choke out between stifled moans. Ni-Ki’s father then speaks, “We’ll clean up the mess, why don’t you show her your room.” 

Ni-Ki inserts a third finger, making you moan quietly. “Yes of course father, I’ll kindly show her my room.” And with that both of his parents head to the kitchen with the dirty plates, and utensils. You finally pull his hand away from your pussy, “What was that for Ni-ki!? You can’t just do that while I’m talking to them.. that’s embarrassing. I nearly came all over your hand.”  He winks, “Oh really? because I really wanted that pussy of yours.. I couldn’t resist.” “Now come on, let’s head to my room, shall we~?” He takes your hand to make you stand up so you can follow Ni-ki upstairs to his room. Once the door is closed behind you, he pins you against it.

"You know," he murmurs seductively, "Your little moans were music to my ears..." Before you can respond, he silences you with a passionate kiss. His tongue explores your mouth while his hands roam freely over your body. “I should worship your pussy.. eating you out, making you moan..~” 

You quickly responded blushing deep red. “N-no that’s a bad idea.. especially right now..” Hearing your protests, Ni-ki pulls away with a playful grin. "What's the fun in all this if we don't take risks?" He teases, pressing himself closer against you. “No im going home, I’m not doing your kinky ideas with you.”  Ni-ki seeing you attempt to leave, grabs your wrist tightly. "Running away so soon?" He chuckles darkly, pulling you back towards him. Without warning, he kisses you passionately once more. His other hand reaches down to cup your breast roughly through the fabric of your dress. 

“Mmph! F-fine I want it! But this is a one-time thing, we are still enemies.” You stumble to say, as he releases your wrist and moves to unzip your dress hastily. "Just remember..." he whispers into your ear, "This doesn't change anything between us..." And with that, he pushes you onto his bed and begins undressing you fully, and he kneels in front of you. “Let me worship your pussy.. I can tell it’s already wet from my fingers, naughty girl..” 

"F-fine! Go ahead," you finally relent, biting your lip nervously. “But only this once."  His tongue laps at your clit with expert precision, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body.

"Mmm...so tasty..." he murmurs against you before continuing his relentless assault on your sensitive nub. “Ah~! Fuck.. k-keep going..” you moan but you quickly cover your mouth making sure no one hears you. Ni-ki increases the pressure of his tongue on your clit. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he devours you and makes your legs tremble, "Oh God...I'm close!", you gasp out, writhing beneath him. Noticing your impending climax, Ni-ki slows his pace slightly, prolonging your torture. He looks up at you with a devilish grin.

"Not so fast, sweetheart..." he purrs, "I haven't finished yet." You whine desperately, “N-no please I’m close! I need to cum..”

"Oh, is that so?" he teases, trailing his tongue along your inner thigh. "That's the point isn't it?" he teases again, "To feel pleasure so intense that you can barely stand it?" “N-Niki!" you cry out, clenching the sheets beneath. "Please...don't tease me like this! I really need to cum.. come on.” Niki chuckles darkly, his eyes filled with mischief as he watches you squirm underneath him. He knew how to push your buttons, knew exactly what to say and do to get a rise out of you. “What's wrong, sweetness?" he purrs mockingly, "Can't handle a little teasing?" You whine again and looks at him with pleading eyes, “No! I mean yes! Just shut up and let me cum! You asshole! Please.. I need to cum so badly..!”

Niki laughs, his hot breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer. 

He takes a moment to savor the desperation lacing your words. "Fine," he concedes, sliding a finger inside of you. "But only because I want to see those pretty eyes roll back into your head." “Yes please..! I’m gonna.. fuck! Gonna..”, You quickly grab a pillow to cover your moans as you cum onto his face. Niki licks up every last drop of your sweet release, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls back slowly, standing up to look down at you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, I might just fuck you right now while we at it, how about you ride me?” 

"No way I’m not riding you! You’re an asshole!” As you stand up from his bed. “Plus your parents are washing dishes, we can’t just do that..they might hear us!” He smirks pushing you back onto the bed, “Oh come on.. we could make some noise, who cares about them..” He tries to persuade you. “You might like it when you’re handcuffed, I have them.” 

You roll your eyes and scoff at him, “Ugh.. whatever I’ll ride you while I’m handcuffed…” “Really?” Niki asks surprised, “Well alright then.” He goes to his drawer and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Put these on.” “Alright.”, you say as you hold out your wrists for him to cuff you. Once he locks them, he smirks, “Fuck, you look sexy like this, handcuffed.. I can easily do anything to you.” He reaches down and unzips his pants, freeing his thick member. It throbs slightly as it bobs free from its confines.  "Here," he says, offering you his shaft. "Why don't you start by sucking on this?"

“Alright, I’ll please you..” You say as you lean down taking his cock in your mouth. You bob your head slowly licking his tip before sliding down further, taking half of his dick in your mouth. Without warning, he thrusts deeper into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. “Mmph!~Too big and deep.!” You manage to say while he doesn't stop though; instead, he continues to fuck your face ruthlessly.

You tease him back by saying, “I’ll pull my mouth out-” “No you won’t,” he says. “Or else I will kick you outta of my house and make sure you never return.” Then he forces his way inside your mouth again, his member hitting the back of your throat, forcing another round of gags from you. As he keeps fucking your throat, you slap his leg hard, trying to signal him to stop. Ignoring your weak attempt to resist, Niki continues to thrust into your mouth. He can feel the familiar tingling at the base of his spine, signaling his imminent release.

"That's it..." he groans, "I'm gonna cum..."

Before long, he explodes inside your mouth. His hot seed fills your mouth and spills onto your chin as he rides out his orgasm.  "There..." he pants, "That wasn't so bad was it? Now why don't you get those pretty legs of yours moving and ride me like a good girl." “O-okay..” You stutter out as you position yourself to sit on his cock despite being handcuffed. With a single thrust, he buries himself deep within you. 

"Fuck..." he groans, "So tight..." As he begins to move beneath you, bucking his hips upwards to meet each of your downward thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as they make love roughy. "Ride me baby," he growls, "Show me how much of an asshole you think I am." “Fuck.. you..! Ah~!” , you moan out quietly. “J-just don’t thrust up more..” “Oh, is that what you want?" He teases, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep things gentle for you." Despite his promise, he continues to thrust up into you ruthlessly. His large member filling you over and over again until both of you are panting heavily. "You like that?" he growls quietly, "You like being fucked by an asshole like me?" 

“I hate you so much! Ahh~” you continue to moan out as you start to ride him faster, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. Niki groans deeply as you grind against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He can feel the heat building up within him again.

"Fucking hell..." he mutters, "You're such a naughty girl..." With one final thrust, he buries himself deep inside of you. His hot seed spurts inside of you as he releases inside of you. “Fuck.. I’m cumming too..!” Niki grunts as he feels you tighten around him, your own climax rippling through your body. He can feel every spasm and twitch of your pussy as you cum. "Good girl," he murmurs, "That was quite the show." As he uncuff and removes the handcuffs from your wrists, “There.. am I still an asshole to you, y/n? Despite panting you responded, “n-no.. you were good, I give you that. I guess we aren’t really enemies anymore.” 

Suddenly you both hear a knock, his father was yelling from the door while Ni-ki’s mother was standing next to him, “Ni-ki, y/n, Are you okay? I hear some noise and wanted to make sure you guys were okay!” 

Niki sighs as he hears his parent's voices, realizing that they've been too loud. He quickly pulls up his pants and straightens out his shirt. "Yeah dad, we're fine," he calls out, "Just having a little fun." He looks at you with a smirk, "Guess we better clean up real quick."

You smirk and laugh at him, “I told you this could’ve happened.” He laughs softly, "Yeah, you did." Niki gives you a playful wink, "Maybe next time we should try to be quieter especially you, y/n." As he listens to his parent's footsteps fade away, he relaxes again. Turning back to you, he grins mischievously. “One last thing.., I’m grateful today for eating your pussy today, y/n.” 

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

A small dabble of arcane headcanons while I (mourn) write my next fic. (I'm in denial that the show is over)

----

Heimerdinger spies on jayce and viktor when their in the lab because the council has a secret bet going that the two of them are dating, and when jayce goes to the council meetings it's incredibly awkward. They also probably pass around notes subtly during the meetings.

Jinx has a stack of photos of silco that she draws on, different things like a moustache or horns. Sometimes, even fake eyebrows. It's her way of accepting he's really dead.

Caitlyn sucks at yoga. Although she's tall and nimble, she's just not the most flexible. When her and vi finally begin to live together, she tries to get vi into it, and it turns out she's actually pretty good at it, and it shocks caitlyn😭😭

Ekko hates flies. Even though he's the leader of the firelights, he hates flies with a passion, and often, the people within his base catch him talking to the air and hitting around trying to get the flies away.

Viktor bakes. And he's damn good at it. Whether it's for jayce or just a small thing for him to eat while working on a new hextech project, he loves baling. he often cooks pastries and blueberry muffins. Whenever anyone in the council or just in the building smells his baking, they beg him for a cake or a cookie.

Mel owns a teddy bear. It sits on her bed, and sometimes she takes it to viktor and jayce when their in the lab to keep them company.

Vi never backs out of a dare during truth or dare. Even if it's licking the ground or doing a weird dance or even cutting off some hair, vi is not afraid to go the lengths of the dares.

Jayce's phone is always on low battery. 1%, 6%, or 15%, he's never fully charged it because he's always on it, calling or emailing. Once, viktor fell over in the town square and tried to call jayce but he didnt pick up. Safe to say, jayce got hit with a cane when viktor got home.

Sevika actually loves the colour pink. But she has not dared to tell anyone. In secret, she wears pink socks. The only person who caught her wearing them was never seen again.

Silco has a massive dog that he keeps under his desk as a guard. He's trained it to bite everyone except jinx.

Ambessa struggles with her makeup in secret, so she gets her right hand man to do it. And shockingly, he's actually good at it.

[loulougoingsolo]

"Just yourself be, if weird is you."

I don't often get annoyed by Rhett or Link, and it is probably a strong word to use even now, but...today's Ear biscuits episode kinda made me growl at Rhett a little.

I'm not going to talk about the entire episode, but the guys were answering listener questions, and the last one was about midlife crises, if they have them and how.

Now, as someone who is less than a year younger than Link, I've probably tackled a crisis of my own in the recent times. (You could say my entire adult life has been a crisis, but I won't.) But I loved Link's explanation of his midlife crisis, which was basically finding the limits of how weird he can be without making Christy scratch her head too much. Like, Link basically said he is still exploring what he is and what he wants to be (and I'm not implying he was talking about his sexual identity - I think he meant he is exploring his identity in a broader context of being human). Rhett took this as an opportunity to remind Link that when someone chooses to be "weird", they need to understand that it might impact their relationships. And at that point, I growled.

I'm a weirdo. I spent way too many years of my life trying not to be weird. The funny (not really) thing was, trying to act normal only made me sick, made me behave in a very unnatural, stiff way around other people, and I was miserable. I dare to say, nowadays, after, thanks to a lot of soul-searching, therapy and embracing my true self, I come across much more likable than before. I'm not tense, I don't need to put on a mask, and I am more comfortable with myself, which just makes me more fun to be with. Syre, there are people who think I'm too weird, don't act my age, or make strange stylistic choices. The people I love accept me as I am, and I may have infected them with dashes of self-acceptance, too. So, grrr at you, Rhett.

Seriously though, I love that Link is less tense these days. I know some people are annoyed by him, but I love how he has blossomed from an antsy guy who stuck to wearing t-shirts and jeans to an actual fashion icon. He's less afraid of showing his emotions these days (good and bad), and he's just overall more at ease. I'd hate for his loved ones to try to tame him too much, and I hated the way Rhett managed to make his advice sound like a threat that if Link gets too weird, he'll lose some of his relationships.

Maybe I heard more than was said. Maybe this rubbed me the wrong way, because I see myself in Link more than I do in Rhett, and I recognize the things Link said in myself. I hope to hear other people's thoughts on this episode, and this answer about midlife crisis in particular.

Also, for anyone planning to go hiking with a cat: I love the idea, and if I see you with your cats on the trails I take, I want to be your friend. I have been known to lightly stalk a lady who was in the library with her cat on her shoulders, just so I could coo at the furbaby.

[lillaydee]

The Arrangement Part 10

Frontier! Joel Miller / Reader

Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.

NOTE: Possible inaccuracies in baby developments, food intake and inheritance or ownership laws coming. I really know nothing, but I needed to put some stuff in for the sake of the story line, so please forgive me and take everything in the spirit of storytelling yeah?

WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 9

Your sight remained blurry all the way home, Maria immediately getting Tommy, telling him to get Will and Benny and Diana. She thanked Max for the two of you, but politely told him it would be best if he left. Max nodded and tipped his hat at you, not that you noticed.

“Make sure you don’t let Joel get anywhere near her,” she told Tommy.

Tommy was confused but did as his wife told him. Minutes later Diana came running into your house followed by the rest of the Miller men, asking Maria what happened. Liv and Diana’s faces visibly turned red, so did Tommy, Will and Benny’s. You were inconsolable, struggling to even draw breath, let alone say anything.

You couldn’t even qualify what you were feeling. Sadness? Anger? Jealousy?

No.

What felt closest to what you were feeling was simply devastation. Heartbreak. Betrayal.

Your husband, the sweetest man you had ever met, who, up until a few weeks ago was so affectionate, so loving, so romantic, making you feel all sorts of feelings that left you floating on air, went to the brothel to get his needs met.

He went to Rose. In broad daylight.

Esther was right after all.

He was so unsatisfied by you, so unaroused, so unfeeling for you, he resorted to going to working ladies, rather than try again with you.

The house was quiet. No one said anything. Everyone was quietly seething and devastated for you.

Ellie’s cries filled the house. Liv made to go get her, but you stopped her, going in to get her yourself, shutting the bedroom door behind you. You picked her up, tearfully consoling her, telling her everything will be alright.

Will it, though?

Could you live with this? Could you get past this?

A lot of men seek services at the brothel. Their wives knew. And yet they remained married, having child after child with their husbands. They look the other way, turn a blind eye. Could you?

“I know we are all angry at him,” you heard Tommy’s voice said. “But I know my brother. He is in love with Elena. You know this, Maria. He was never like this, not even with Annie.”

“As angry as I am with him, I hate to say it, but he’s right. I’ve never seen Joel this smitten with anyone,” Maria said, despite being so livid for you earlier. “If this had been idle gossip I would never have believed it, but I saw him. With my own eyes.”

“This is not like him, he would never do something this stupid. There must be an explanation.”

Tommy was doing what a good brother would do, defending his brother, the one who sacrificed a lot for him to make sure he had a good life growing up. Will and Benny didn’t say much. Liv and Diana remained quiet. To be fair, the two ladies didn’t really know Joel, having only met him when you got to Jackson.

“I cannot believe he would do this,” Benny’s voice was disbelieving. “The way he was so enamoured with Elena was something else. He’s the last man I would ever see doing this.”

“But he did. He did do this. We can all deny and question it, but he did do this. When he’s wrong, he’s wrong. No use defending him.” It was clear to everyone that Will wasn’t having any of this.

“Are we just going to throw him out because of this? He’s family,” Tommy sounded desperate. “He’s my brother.”

“And he betrayed Elena,” Maria was firm in her stand. “He promised her that he would be faithful to her. A brothel, Tommy? You expect us to let that go? Let bygones be bygones?”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t think I can ever look him in the eyes again,” Diana finally chimed in.

“ELENA!”

You froze.

“ELENA… darling, please…”

“No, he is not coming in here,” Will said, and you heard the chair scrape against the floor, followed by a rough opening of the front door. No… please don’t Will… don’t…

You opened your bedroom door, passing Ellie to Liv, running to the door, only to see the three men already outside, confronting a sweaty, panicked, out of breath Joel, who had clearly been running all the way from town. Will, leading his brother and cousin, immediately landed a punch on your husband’s face.

“No! Will! Don’t, please… don’t hurt him!”

You ran outside, trying hard to get to him, worried that the much bigger Will would kill your husband. All betrayal was lost, all anger and heartbreak and devastation disappeared at that moment.

Will managed to land another punch to a non-fighting Joel before you got to him, placing your body in front of him, begging Will to stop, to not hurt your husband. You loved him. I love him. Will, please, I love him. Please, don’t hurt him. Will seemed to snap out of his anger, looking at you in shock for a few seconds before screaming at Joel, how could you do this to her? What were you thinking? Benny and Tommy pulled him back, calming the older Miller down.

“Explain yourself, brother. What you did was inexcusable,” Tommy calmly said.

Joel placed his hand on your shoulder, quietly telling you to go inside. The left side of his face already blooming with bruises, his nose bloody. You surged to wipe the blood away, but he gently took your hand in his and told you he was alright. Please, darling, go inside. I will be right in. Please.

Benny pulled you gently by the elbow, and you reluctantly let him do so, passing you to Diana, who was giving Joel a stern look. Maria and Liv waited at your front door. If looks could kill, your husband would be long dead, thrice over. Joel kept his head down, accepting his family’s perception of him, but watched you go inside, his heart broken into pieces at the thought of you still trying to defend him despite what had happened.

And if he heard you right, even in thinking he did what you thought he did, you still told his older cousin that you loved him.

**********

You sat on your kitchen table, a cup of tea in your hands, courtesy of a very fidgety Maria. Your sisters sat with you, Liv with a protective arm around your shoulder, Diana with Ellie in her arms, all watching the Miller men through the open window.

They were all sat on the grass in a circle, a ways away from the house, Joel doing the talking while the others listened, taking in everything he was telling them. You couldn’t see their faces, only Joel’s. Joel kept stealing looks into the house, eyes searching for you, a look of worry and devastation on his face.

The three Miller men suddenly dropped their heads down, shaking them disbelievingly, making your heart drop. What? What did he say? What was happening? Joel dropped his head, too. Seemingly from shame. Liv’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and your heart dropped further, oh God, this looked bad.

Suddenly, the three men’s shoulders started shaking, even Will’s. Your husband’s head remained down, his fingers on his forehead, shaking his head too, before finally lifting it, a controlled smile on his face. The other three Miller men started howling, laughing so hard they could hardly sit up properly. Joel started laughing too, but not as much as his brothers, who by now were wiping their eyes from laughter, hands on their tummies, almost bent double from the hilarity of whatever was going on.

They eventually stopped laughing. A good ten seconds went by when Benny snorted, and off they all went again, laughing so hard, Joel now red in the face, head still down, shoulders shaking every now and again when he gave in and began giggling for a few beats before stopping again, looking so ashamed of himself.

“What on earth is going on?” Diana asked, at which point you realized that everyone was staring at their husbands, a befuddled look on their faces.

The men finally stopped laughing, breaking again every now and then, before getting up, and shaking their heads, patting Joel on his back. His head remained down, albeit with a small smile on his face. Will stood in front of him, saying something you couldn’t hear, and hugged him tight, slapping him on his back a few times, which Joel willingly accepted and returned. Tommy and Benny stayed outside, while Will and Joel walked back into the house, Will telling Liv to get Ellie, she will be spending the night with them tonight. Maria, Diana, let’s go. He came to you, apologizing for hitting your husband, telling you to hear him out, before giving you a tight side hug.

The ladies hugged you, side-eyeing Joel as they left, a grumpy Ellie in Liv’s arms. Maria closed the door behind her, leaving you and your husband alone in your living room, where the awkwardness suddenly returned, and your anger began to swell back in your chest.

He stood dumbly for a few minutes, before telling you he was going to wash first, but he will explain everything to you, alright? You kept your head down, knowing for a fact - considering that you broke when you saw Will hit him - that if you looked at him, you would give in to him. And you knew you shouldn’t. He did something wrong. He should be made to explain himself, be made to apologize.

You stayed where you were as he cleaned himself behind the house, and when he came back in, he offered you a hand, which you took, and led you into his bedroom, sitting you on his bed before joining you, sitting opposite you, your knees touching.

He took a deep breath and told you everything.

**********

Joel Miller was a gifted man. He had always known that. He had always been told that, even in his childhood. His brother, his cousins, his friends, all teased him about it. He never thought much of it, until he joined the army. His buddies would make lewd remarks about his member. It didn’t help that he was so shy about mingling with the ladies, oh… Miller’s just afraid he might end up winning the war with his weapon of mass destruction, they said. Careful where you aim that thing, Miller, the ladies may not live long to tell the tale. Oh, boy Miller, you’re gonna split some unlucky lady in half with that huge dong of yours. Watch where you’re running with that, Miller, you don’t want to trip on that third leg.

All these teasing, the lewd comments, the double meaning remarks, unbeknownst to his friends and family, made him extremely ashamed of his own body. So Joel went about his life being self-conscious of his private part. He never messed around, as he told you. He even stayed away from talks regarding that matter, knowing that the stories would inevitably lead to more teasing his way. They always did. His army buddies made a point to let him know every time he was showing through his trousers in public, particularly around the ladies.

At one point, his name became one that was always mentioned among the working ladies at the local brothel where he was stationed, all the ladies knew of him, despite never setting foot in the establishment. The ladies in the army knew of him, chasing him around, wanting a glimpse. Coupled with the fact that he was raised to be a gentleman by his Mama, his shy nature exacerbated his consciousness, and made him stay away.

He even convinced himself he wasn’t interested in such activities. When needs arise, he was mindful, settling instead for relieving himself with his own hands, pictures of ladies on flyers and magazines becoming his inspirations. It’s safe, healthy, even, and he was not in danger of getting a disease, or impregnating any ladies, let alone hurting them. He eventually got used to this, thinking that when the time comes, when he married, he will deal with the situation face on, but until then, his hands would have to do.

But then he met you, and for the first time in his life, Joel Miller really wanted to be intimate with a woman. But not just any woman, with you, his wife. Someone who he was supposed to be intimate with, encouraged, even. But at the same time, he had promised you he would be respectful. And he really was. For what felt like years to him, he did not touch himself at all after the wedding, trying to respect the fact that you were right there, sleeping in the next wagon. He refrained himself from touching you too much, but it was like an impossibility.

He didn’t even realize what he was yearning for was intimate in nature at first.

Everything was hidden behind his feelings for you, one he had never felt before. It took him by surprise. He remembered what he said to you about love on that first ride together, and at the time, what he thought was a crush and a harmless attraction to you revolved around wanting to be near you, getting to know you. He found himself smiling to sleep with the thought of you, looking forward to be alone with you, anything at all, as long as he was with you. His body magnetized towards you. In a short span of time, he found himself becoming extremely protective of you, consumed by you. You were always on his mind. Every single time he planned something in his head, you were right there. He didn’t think much of it, you were his wife, after all. Of course you would be in his plans. Right?  

Until that day he saw you bathing. The images of your body in a wet robe drove him wild. He couldn’t stop wondering what you would look like sans the material. His body responded to you in a way he had never experienced before. When the ladies he encountered during his army days tried to get close to him, all he could think of was to get away. But you… all he wanted was to hold you tight, make you feel good. His wonders about you went from how you liked your morning coffee to wondering what sounds you would make if he kissed your neck, and to his shame, how you would look like naked underneath his own naked body.

And once he realized that, as the days went by and his feelings for you got stronger and stronger, his need for you got bigger and bigger. But he had promised you. Only when you asked for it. And Joel Miller was a man who kept his promise.

He couldn’t help himself. His old habit resurfaced, only this time, his inspiration for manual relief turned from some random woman on a piece of paper to you, a real, living, breathing person, who he was married to. And to make things even more difficult, you seemed to respond to him, getting closer and closer, being more comfortable with his advances, and soon, physical touches became a norm between the two of you, not that he was complaining about it.

When the two of you moved in and got a lot more physical than usual, he found it harder and harder to stay away from you. His desire for you became unavoidable. His thoughts were full of you. So that night, when you finally asked him to take you, it was literally his dreams come true. But as he was kissing you, preparing to consummate your marriage, he came to a devastating realization. 

He had no idea what he was doing.

What did he have to do? What do people usually do? Do you just stick it in? So many thoughts went through his head in those few seconds he was on top of you. Why, oh why didn’t he talk to Tommy and his cousins about this before then? Why did he shy away when his friends talked about their experiences? Oh God, he was going to hurt you, wasn’t he? All the teasing, all the self-consciousness, all the lack of knowledge, came rushing to his head. He was so ashamed of himself he couldn’t even look at you.

But, God, he wanted you. He wanted you so badly, he was shaking with need. His head was so full of his intrusive thoughts, from things that he could no longer do anything about, to his fear of hurting you, to his selfish need and desire for you. He was so nervous, he didn’t even take your clothes off. Come to think of it, he didn’t even take his trousers off fully.

And he did the unthinkable. He did the one thing he didn’t want to do.

He hurt you. Badly.

The sounds you were making were nothing like what he had imagined you would be making, nothing like the ones he had heard when passing by the brothels or the alleys when his buddies would have a woman. There was no passionate moaning, no screams of joy and pleasure. You were obviously in pain, and he had caused that. His friends were right. His generous member would end up hurting a woman, and it did. He had hurt you, badly, with his ‘gift’.

And to his own shame, the one thing he couldn’t forgive himself for, was the fact that he didn’t stop. You were so tight he couldn’t even go in all the way. And yet, it was the best feeling he had ever felt in his life, so, while you were in excruciating pain, his own needs took over, it was like he no longer had control over his own body and he selfishly let his body continue what it was doing to you until he finished, all while you were hissing and stiff from enduring the pain that he had caused you.

Once the clouds of euphoria left him, he was horrified. He had forced himself on you, in a way. He should have stopped. But he didn’t. He promised you he would never force you to do anything. And while you didn’t tell him to stop, he should have. And he didn’t.

He couldn’t even look at you. He was so ashamed of himself, he couldn’t even be a gentleman about it all. He let you leave the room, wincing and hissing in pain and discomfort as you did so, while he just sat there in his own shame. And when he finally went to clean himself, he realized that there was blood on his member. Your blood. He had hurt you so badly you were bleeding. He caused you to bleed. His shame finally caught up to him and he sobbed uncontrollably for the pain he had caused you. He, who yelled at Esther for spilling hot stew on your hand, who worried about your hand chafing from carrying water, had hurt you to the point of bleeding.

He tried to go to you, he wanted to see if you were alright, but you had blocked the door with your own body. He eventually relented and gave you some time to yourself before going to you, but when he heard you hissing in pain as you cleaned yourself, he couldn’t do it. How could he face you again? He was a bad husband, hurting his wife like that.

The few weeks that followed were the worst moments of his life.

When he woke up the next day and found the house without your presence in it, he panicked. Did you run off? Had he scared you like that? And in his relief of seeing you walk up to the house, he couldn’t help but notice your gait was off. You were still in pain. Every time you sat down, every time you got up, the subtle wince that resulted let him know that. He had physically hurt you. Badly. It took three whole days before he couldn’t detect any discomfort from you.

Was this how it would remain? That every time he had you, every time he gave in to his needs, you would end up in three days’ worth of pain?

How could he ever endure that? Seeing you in pain hurt him. Knowing that he was the reason you were in pain? He might as well die.

Maybe this was the way things went for people of his… afflictions. This ‘gift’ he supposedly had was his biggest disadvantage. Maybe he was just not meant to have you that way, not without hurting you. And in thinking this, he realized that he would willingly find a way to be alright with that. With never having you again. He would endure it. Just so he could spend the rest of his life with you.

Because he found that he could not imagine his life without you.

He couldn’t touch you as he once did. Despite the pain he knew he caused you, his needs for you multiplied. He wanted you, now more than ever. And every single touch and kisses were temptations of the greatest proportions for him. Even bathing himself, using the same soap you did, became a hurdle. The smell, your smell, overwhelmed him. And having your soft lips on his, oh…

Eventually, things got better. The two of you were laughing again, albeit with much less physical contact. But as the days went by, his need for you increased, and soon, he wanted you so badly he couldn’t sleep. He found himself physically, consciously refraining from going into your room to just ravage you. But he knew he shouldn’t do that.

So, he went back to his old habit. Away from the house, in the safety of the outhouse, where he would be alone. But when he walked in after that rainy night, he knew you knew. You knew he had been defiling himself to take care of his selfish needs. And he knew you were offended. He knew he had hurt you beyond the physical pain he had caused you.

If he thought not being able to touch you the way he wanted was painful, it was nothing compared to the way he felt when you stopped looking at him, stopped touching him. He found himself on a constant edge of tears. To have you treating him so well still, taking care of his daughter for him, cooking and cleaning for him, keeping him company, reading to him, but without you looking at him, without him being able to see your beautiful, beautiful eyes, made him ache in a way he had never experienced before. You flinched away from his touch as if his hands were made from fire. It would have been less painful if you had just treated him badly. He deserved it. But no. You remained the angel in disguise that he didn’t even feel he deserved, all the while keeping a large chasm between you and him that he would want nothing more than to bridge.

He tried, from that day after the fateful night, to talk to his brothers. To ask them what to do. But every time he tried, the memories of them making fun of him as children came to surface, and as childish as it may seem, he balked. The possibility of them making fun of him again, as silly as it may be, scared him. He didn’t think he could take it. He also doubted that they could help anyway, none of them suffer as badly from this affliction of his. And to say they were experts on the matter, as far as he knew, they were all inexperienced up until the day they were married too, and the one who was married the longest was Tommy, and even that, he married about a month before the journey to Jackson. And his biggest doubt of all, in telling them this, he would have to indirectly divulge private information about you. He could never shame you like that. What if they told their wives?

No… he shouldn’t talk to them about this.

He was going out of his mind, when one day, as he was fixing the door to one of the rooms at Rose’s establishment, a direct result of a fight over a particular working lady the day prior, he heard Rose’s talk with a couple of the ladies.

Apparently, a certain client of hers was particularly gifted, just like him, and had hurt a young lady in acquiring her services. Rose was seething, going on and on about mindless men who took no time in preparing the ladies for their own selfish needs. Well-endowed men are the worst, she had spat out. Was it so bad to help prepare the ladies? Wouldn’t the whole experience be better if she was prepared for him? But no… leave the ladies in pain, why don’t you. Never mind that all the lady would feel was pain. Never mind that the pain caused them to clamp up. Never mind that the pain caused the ladies to limp for days. So long as your ego is stroked, so long as you finish, why bother making the ladies feel good at all?

Joel listened to Rose’s rants, feeling as if she had been right at his bedside that fateful night. What did she mean by preparing the lady? Was she implying that men like him could actually make the ladies feel good? Was there a way for him to have you without hurting you? More to the point, could he actually make you feel good?

It hit him like a wagon train on a run. She would know, wouldn’t she? She’s had enough… experience. This was her expertise. And best of all, she was discreet. As far as he knew, she had never, ever, divulged personal information about her clients to anyone.

It took everything in him to gather up the courage to walk up to her desk at the end of the job, supposedly to collect payment, for him to ask her if he could talk to her about something, discreetly. To her credit, she didn’t make fun of him at all. She listened as he told her the issue he was having, without divulging too much information, obviously, asking her if she could help him make him and his wife… happy. He made it clear, that under no circumstances was he willing to cheat on his wife. No ma’am, he was not interested in that. He was simply a desperate man who needed her help, sans the normal services she and her ladies usually provided.  

She didn’t respond for a while, causing him to hesitate and leave. He had just stepped out the front door when she called his name.

“You fix things around here for free every Saturday for a month. Come over tomorrow after lunch, and I will teach you how to please your wife. No touching.” She held out a hand for him to shake. And he gladly took it.

“Deal.”

**********

He stopped talking. His head down, looking at his fidgety hands, not daring to look at your sweet, sweet face. You hadn’t said a word to him. Hadn’t responded, hadn’t taken your eyes off him, in fact. After the past week or so, he should be thankful for it. He had missed having you look at him. But right now, he cowered under your gaze, ashamed that he had let this go on the way it did, for as long as it did.

You got off the bed and left the room. Joel found himself covering his face with his hands defeatedly, tears pouring from his eyes, disgusted with himself for even thinking that what he was doing was going to help him solve his problems. His shoulders shook, letting all his regrets and frustrations out, knowing that the marriage he had envisioned with you had effectively ended, and it was all due to his own stupidity.

A soft, gentle hand touched his shoulder. And there you were, one of his kerchiefs in your hand, a small bucket with ice-cold water in the other. You sat back down in front of him, wet the kerchief and squeezed it dry, before dabbing the bruises on his left cheek, your other hand wiping his tears off his face. Your own eyes were teary, but all anger seemed to have dissipated from them, worry, instead, took its place.

He let you fuss over him, his hands in his lap, not daring to touch you. You continued to wipe his face, icing his bruise, tears falling slowly down your cheek. And when you were done, you leaned in and gently placed a kiss on his injured cheek.

Joel felt as if he was floating on air. His wife had kissed him. He turned his head tentatively, capturing your lips in his. When you didn’t protest, he brought both hands to your cheeks, deepening the kiss, which you happily returned.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said when you pulled back, his forehead on yours, “I’m sorry for hurting you, for pulling back from you, for everything. Please, believe me. I did not betray you. I would never. My heart, my body, they’re yours. Only yours. Please, my darling wife, forgive me.”

You looked into his eyes and found no lies there. Only sincerity, honesty, yearning.

You patted his pillow, asking him to lie down. He’s injured, he should rest. He did as you asked him to, pulling your hand to join him. You laid down next to him, facing him.

“You were not lying?”

“No, darling, I am not.”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” Your eyes looked so sad he raised himself on one elbow and took your face in his hand.

The familiar shyness consumed his face. He took a deep breath, eyes looking deep into yours.

“Elena, I am so in love with you. I love you so much, my heart couldn’t take the thought of hurting you. It beats for you. I cannot imagine my life without you. You are all I think about, I lay awake at night wondering what I ever did to deserve you. I want you, all of you. I need you to be alive. I want you so badly I ache. I was going out of my mind trying to stay away from you, to not hurt you. You have no idea how much I need you, how much I want you.”

You blushed, “You love me?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head a little, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head, eyes away from him, unable to look at him without feeling like you could melt. You face felt so hot you were sure it was beet red.

He took your chin into his fingers again, “Well, now you do.”

He kissed you, passionately. And you found yourself giving him that kiss right back, pressing your own body to him, and he immediately laid you back, his body covering yours, arms tight around you, yours around his torso, fingers clutching onto his shirt. He stopped for a beat, looking at you with teary eyes, telling you he loved you again, and this time, you replied.

“I love you too.”

He nodded with a happy, teary smile, and his lips found yours again, putting all his feelings for you in that kiss, which you reciprocated, your tongue playing with his, making him groan. He let go of your lips, trailing his kisses down to your jaw before going to your neck, his scruff making you whine.

This was new. He had never done this before. Your body felt as if it was on fire. And no, you didn’t want him to stop. So when he tried to claim your lips again, you quickly asked him a very important question.

“So, Mr Miller. Are you going to show your wife what you’ve learnt today?”

Part 11

[use-yr-voice]

Oh wow. Wow. Democrats need to learn how to be more loving do we?

Like when we contend that children ought to be able to go to school safely?

Like when we insist that kids ought to have free school lunches?

Like when we propose that adults ought to be able to care for their elderly parents without an additional strain on their own finances?

Like when we refuse to villainize immigrant populations who came to this country seeking a better life for their families?

Like when we assert that all marriages are loving commitments between two consenting adults and they ought to be recognized and celebrated?

Like when we sent a message to women and girls everywhere- especially women and girls of color- that they might be the president of the United States someday?

Like when we demand policies that actually help the American people- all of the American people including republicans- and we tax greedy oligarchs who hoard their wealth?

Like when we tried to send aid to people who lost everything in two major hurricanes, only for a red congress to block it?

Like when we say we want to leave behind an inhabitable planet for future generations?

That wasn’t out of love???

I didn’t know Dr King personally. The man’s life was cut short years before I was born. I don’t know what his take on this election might have been. But well… given Dr King’s record of activism, of non-violent resistance, of his commitment to creating a better country for all Americans, especially people of color… I can reasonably surmise who he might have voted for and it wouldn’t have been Trump.

Sorry, but I’ll be saving up all of my love for the people who need it most. Turning the other cheek? Forgiveness? Yeah that’s all well and good for my actual neighbors or my co-workers or my own family. But I have no love, no affection, no sympathy, no pity, no compassion, and no tolerance for Trump or for his cronies. They forfeited that when they ran a campaign based on little more than lies, hate, and greed.

Jesus of Nazareth, much like Dr King, was a political agitator. His love was a radicalized love, meant for the poor and the destitute who rallied around him, the people who were suffering under the government of his time. Much like Dr King, his love got him killed. Jesus of Nazareth loved his people not the establishment. We don’t have to love the establishment either. Don’t ask us to love an administration based on little more than hate.

Under an administration led by Kamala Harris, America would have continued to thrive. Love would have flourished for the American people because her policies told us all that it was okay to love those who are different. I don’t hear that from her opponents. All I hear them saying is that we should fear outsiders, that we should hate those we disagree with, and that we should attack the vulnerable rather than help them. Those policies are kinda hard to love. It’s not easy to love your enemies when your enemy plans to wipe away your very existence.

I know op means well. I appreciate the sentiment. But op, you really ought to direct that meme at your fellow Republicans.

Democrats will continue to share their light. Democrats will continue to fight for the right to love and to be loved. VP Harris and Governor Walz based their platform on joy and revelry and we will reach that point again.

For now though, we grieve. It wasn’t just Kamala Harris who lost that election- it was all of us, Democrats and Republicans alike. Tariffs will hurt all Americans. Budget cuts and deregulation will hurt all Americans (it already is… listeria anyone?). Trump’s cabinet choices will hurt all Americans. Fascism will hurt all Americans. You republicans think you’ve won this election? False. We all lost. America lost. Musk won. Bezos won. Putin won. Trump’s greedy and heartless sycophants won. We all lost, even you, op. But sure, tell us that we need to shine our light when you’re blocking it with your trump signs. Tell us that we need to be more loving when you support the most hateful person in the country. Sure.

Actually, I found a much more relevant quote for you:

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly".

- Dr Martin Luther King Jr

Do not mistake our cries for justice with words of hate. We see a rapist getting elected president and appointing other sexual predators as his cabinet? We want justice. We see a convicted felon getting elected president when felons can’t even vote? We want justice. We see a spoiled brat draft dodger about to become the commander in chief of our military? We want justice. All of the people who’ve been sexually abused or assaulted, all the convicts blocked from the careers they most want even if they’ve served their time and reformed, those who fought for our country with honor… hell, all law-abiding, tax-paying, hardworking Americans? We want justice!

Even Jesus of Nazareth had to pick up a friggin rope and chase the deplorables of his day out of the temple. There’s a time for love and there’s a time to protect the ones we love. And that’s why we Democrats need to keep up the fight. It’s love we’re fighting for in the first place.

Hey Democrats?

[spywhitney]

How I sleep knowing I'll never trust anyone that hates Sydney but worships Richie:

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

the more photos of Sophie T I see the more I understand why she’s so beloved in the fandom. she’s just a whole fucking mood. like

first one she’s completely dead pan doing a perfect thumbs up

second one she’s doing an exaggerated stereotypical Italian hand gesture

and in the third one she’s just fully stanced up with her fucking coffee. what an icon.

[slutdge]

Not to get deep here or anything but i really think i dont want to have a relationship with my sister anymore and ive been reflecting on that a lot. like sure she didnt abuse me or really do anything to directly traumatize me, but she voted against me having human rights because im queer, as well as voting for a party that wants to harm first nations people despite both of us being first nations i just.... i dont think i can forgive her for that. weve had laughs and good times together but i find myself unable to forgive her for her politics. i wouldn't tolerate bigotry from anyone else, i shouldnt tolerate it from someone just cause theyre family.