#only them can i be concerned with other characters again

[senseandaccountability]

"I'm me again"

Yes well this is me getting a little sappy - again - about the spirits/demon thing as a metaphor for the human experience, must be Friday. 

(Yes, this is about Solas.)

Last night my Ingellvar was tending to the graves with Emmrich and she said “demons” and immediately corrected herself, because of course she meant spirits but people outside Nevarra so easily call them demons and Emmrich, one of the kindest and most insightful people in the entire DA verse, would of course never do that. Because he sees them all as spirits. Some of them may be twisted, embittered, furious and cruel but to him they are still, at heart, the same being as their more positive virtues. You are always you, as Solas tells Cole. 

Which is also what Solas argues for all of DAI.

Which is also what Solas personal quest actively shows us in DAI.

His friend, broken and twisted by the mages' bindings, dies a spirit of Wisdom, thanking him and telling him not to be sad. “I’m me again.”

Which is also a very strong theme in Solas entire arc. 

But it’s really not just Solas, or the elves. The eternal struggle of spirits is a reflection of the human soul and what it means to be human. What parts of you does the world let you cultivate, what parts are hidden and twisted in the dark, what virtues would you be remembered for if you died tomorrow? What sort of person have you become? What person could you be? DA is crammed with these themes.

Since the spirit reveal/confirmation, I’ve seen a lot of very detailed and very cool discussions about the specifics of spirit virtues and demon characteristics and that’s some good shit right there, but you can also be lazy like me and very much just read it as various aspects of human nature interacting with each other. We’re all so many things over our lifetime, to different people, in different contexts. We all carry such endless capacity for goodness and gentleness and we’re all so very capable of hurting each other.

In the codex entries we see Solas try over and over and over again to appeal to the better nature of the Evanuris. He is described as brilliant and wise, he is pulled out of the Fade specifically for his wisdom and he tries to get them to reflect that, to listen to his concerns, to use their powers differently. Why don’t you make creatures that can protect the People, he asks Ghilan’nain. Why do you need to push your power further, he asks Elgar’nan, the people are already submitting to your rule, why must you shackle them? War may have twisted him up already but there’s nothing he says that isn’t extremely valid and wise about the Evanuris’ approach to ruling.

But as we learn from the Spirit of Command in Crestwood in DAI, wisdom is considered a soft virtue in a world of war and hierarchy and his reasoning falls flat or gets interpreted as fear or insubordination. Unheard and undervalued, his wisdom grows sour and prideful. He isn’t wrong, he knows he isn't, and he will show them. You are not gods, I will make you see that you are not gods. I will humble you until you understand that I am right. 

This is a profoundly human experience.

The ancient elven empire ultimately falls to its own greed and hierarchies and lack of boundaries - all of which Solas pointed out, all of which he and his rebels opposed. But the Evanuris didn’t listen, they were caught in a power scheme where only individual power matters and everyone else becomes pawns. How ironic then that their empire falls to its own foolish pride and boundless cruelty against the Titans, the first children of the earth. They hurt themselves by hurting them. They wound the fabric that binds them all together. 

Solas as a character is an open, ongoing conflict between "spirit" and "demon" aspects, between light and dark, between identifying as a solitary creature or part of the whole. It’s never more visible than during the final act of DAV where he is at once Solas, standing with the Shadow Dragons against the blight. And also Fen’Harel, scheming to get there in the first place, treating people in his way like dehumanized pawns to reach his final destination, a goal that can be argued to be entirely tainted with pride at this point, a way to soothe his conscience and need to be right more than it’s a way to save the world. And he’s the Dread Wolf, physically embodying the struggle against the corrupt powers since he, unlike the Evanuris, doesn’t believe in binding creatures to fight his battles. It’s significant that while he fights alone, he cannot do it without help from Rook. Elgar’nan directs all of the blight at the Dread Wolf and it takes a sacrifice from the team to free him from its grasp. It’s a battle orchestrated by a god. 

And Solas, powerful as he may be, is not a god. 

That is why it’s so lovely to me that the ending isn’t just a matter between Solas and his conscience or between Solas and Rook or Solas and Lavellan. Because we are not single entities. We are not islands. That’s why we need each other, because we respond to each other, we affect each other, we abuse and love each other and we cannot really understand in which ways until we connect. We use each other to remind us of who we are, or who we could be. Every Benevolence needs a Wisdom, every Command needs a Compassion, every one of us needs someone else in some way, shape or form. We are not meant to be solitary. We all share Solas' deepest fear of dying alone. We all share Solas’ ongoing conflict with the better and worse parts of our nature. We all reflect each other. The ending brings in the past, the present and the person that knows Solas not as a god but as a person.

We are shattered fragments of a greater whole and it was, as Morrigan points out, Solas’s love for and loyalty to his people that set him on this course long ago. And he broke the world. He broke his people. He couldn’t save them, all the horrible things that he has done and he still couldn’t save them. Ultimately and emotionally to him, this isn’t about wisdom or pride or good or evil or any such dichotomy, this is about grief and regret and broken humanity.

That is why it’s so powerful to me that a romanced or friendly Lavellan is so kind to him in DAV. They approach him carefully, they kneel down beside him to make a connection, they are understanding and compassionate and it may not be what he deserves on some grand justice scale of things, but it is without question what he needs. Pride and regret and grief need compassion, hope and benevolence much more than it needs to be proven wrong or challenged, kindness breaks the cycle.

They reach out to him not the way one would reach out to a god, but to a person. Because that’s what Solas needs to be reminded of - his humanity. That’s what their love and friendship has always reminded him of, that's what the Inquisition taught him - that the world is worth caring about because broken as it may be, it is also full of people. 

And people matter. They might not matter to the Dread Wolf, but they have always mattered to Solas.

That's what the good ending represents.

"I'm me again." 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 7

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: my gut said go full self-indulgent so I did.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Your phone lights up again. You’ve already waited too long. You can’t avoid this any longer and in that moment, avoiding Lloyd’s family is a bigger priority. You get up, thankful to be away from Lloyd’s wandering touches, and excuse yourself to take the call. You don’t miss the scathing judgment from Gwenyth, but you don’t care either. 

You go out into the hallway and try to keep your voice down. There’s enough chatter that you’re not entirely concerned. You answer and close your eyes. 

“Hi, mom--” 

“Where are you?” She demands. “You said you would be here. I’ve been waiting. Calling. Your sister too. We’re all worried--” 

“Mom, I’m sorry. I missed my flight--” 

“Oh, yes, I couldn’t put that together,” she snaps. 

“I’m sorry, mom. Really. I know—I messed up again. I really wanted to come but that was the only flight--” 

“It’s not that you couldn’t make it, it’s that you couldn’t even let me know! I’ve been in shambles, thinking the worst. I check the flights to make sure there were no crashes, I’ve been looking through news reports.” 

She starts to devolve into breathy sobs. You feel horrible. Your guilt overwhelms your self-pity. Suddenly being stuck with these rich snobs isn’t so bad. Your mother has spent half her Christmas worrying over you, and know her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually tore some hair out. 

“I know I should have called. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” you lie, poorly since the defeat is in your voice.  

Your mother has always been your kryptonite. She’s not cruel like Gwenyth, but her disappointment is devastating and all too easy to earn. She just wants the best for you but you’ve never managed the best. 

“So you can come?” She sniffles. 

“Um, not today, but I’m looking at tomorrow.” Another frail falsehood. “I promise, I’ll let you know--” 

“Sweet pea,” Lloyd’s voice undercuts yours and you cringe. You put your finger up and turn to signal him to hush. 

“Yeah, mom, I’ll try for tomorrow and if I can’t get there--” 

“Mom?” Lloyd echoes with a smirk. 

You shake your head. 

“Who’s that?” Your mom asks. 

You grimace and glare daggers at Lloyd as he comes closer. You outstretch your arm and put your hand just below his chest.  

“Mom, it’s just--” 

Lloyd easily reaches past your resistance and swipes the phone. He puts it on speaker with a tap of his thumb as you lunge at him. He grabs your arm and forces it up. Nearly dangly you from it as you lash with the other. 

“Is this mom?” Lloyd asks brightly. 

“Um, hello? Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” 

“Mom, I’m here. Lloyd, give me the phone back--” 

“Boo, what’s going on?” She asks. 

Lloyd looks at you with a mischievous grin and mouths ‘boo?’ with a tweaked brow. You shake your head again and plead. 

“Mom, it’s nothing--” 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” he speaks over you. “We’re going to be coming tomorrow.” 

“We?” She ekes out, you hear the worry mounting in her voice. 

“Please don’t be mad at Pixie, she was just being a good girlfriend. We stopped by my family’s house and oh boy, the snow we got up this way,” he tuts in a very convincing monologue. You’re stunned into silence at his act. He sounds like a decent person but you know better. “And you know, everything was so hectic as we tried to dig out that it just got all ahead of us.” 

“I’m sorry, who are you? Boo?” She asks desperately. 

“Mom--” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with that. I’m Lloyd. Her boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” You mother breathes, “boo?” 

“Yeah, mom, er,” you wrench your hand free and smack Lloyd’s arm. “He’s um, going to come with me, so uh--” 

“I’ll be there, both of us, with bows on,” he promises. “Please, allow me to apologise from the bottom of my heart for keeping your daughter from you. You can’t blame her. It was entirely me. I am not a morning person and she can only do so much to keep me in line.” 

You grit your teeth as you squint at him. How does he sound like such a dweeb? Well, looking at him with that mustache, he kinda is one. 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, very nice,” your mother coos, “I can let everyone else know. Oh, boo, you could’ve told us--” 

“Again, that’s on me,” Lloyd preens, “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

“It is, it is,” she assures. “Oh, it will be so nice to meet you. We’ve never met any of Pixie’s men.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“We never really thought she had any. She’s always been so focused on work, and before that, it was school--” 

“Mom,” you jab Lloyd’s ribs as he smirks bigger and bigger, then snatch the phone from him. “Promise, we’ll get there but uh... gotta go. Love you.” 

“Love you too, boo. Oh and it was nice meeting you, um--” 

“Lloyd,” he supplies and sticks out his tongue. 

“Bye.” You hit end and put your phone in your pocket.  

Your agitation peaks and you can’t help from shoving Lloyd. It barely affects him which annoys you more. God, he is such a little—big turd. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“What? I just did you a favour.” 

“A favour? You just dragged my family into this bullshit--” 

“Well, hate to break it to you, boo,” he emphasizes the last word as he grabs your hands and pulls them away from his stomach, “but they’re going to have be. We promised mine a white wedding.” 

“You are so--” 

“So...?” He prompts. 

“Urgh.” 

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy. It’s a ticket out of this place. Literally. So you just let me know where I need to book tickets and I’ll pull a few strings--” 

“Strings? You couldn’t pull these earlier?” 

“On Christmas Day? Please, even I can’t do that but the day after Christmas, my guy’s getting into the punch right now, he’ll be just tipsy enough--” 

“You are torturing me,” you accuse. 

“I really can’t deny that,” he snickers as he lets you go. “Now tell me where I’m booking these tickets too and I’ll hop right on that...” he looks you up and down and bites his lip, “as much as I’d like to hop on something else.” 

You huff, “Toronto.” 

He twitches, “Toronto? As in... Canada?” 

You nod and roll your eyes. 

“Wait, Pixie puff, you’re Canadian?” 

You tilt your head and look at him. You shrug, “what does that matter?” 

“Well, I thought you type were supposed to be nice, first of all.” 

“Just make the call,” you sneer and cross your arms. “You’ve already mangled this Christmas, may as well put it out of its misery.” 

“Why don’t you do the same for me, huh? I’m suffering, Pix. Just give it a squeeze” he gets closer. You flutter your lashes then he wiggles his hips. “These pants are killing my circulation. I told you, I don’t wear underroos.” 

“Back up before I lose it,” you warn. 

“I’m close to losing it too, baby face,” he groans. 

“Make. The. Call.” You demand. “And I’ll happily break the news to your dear sweet mother that we need to go get ready to fly out.” 

His expression sobers and he exhales heavily, “Pix,” he utters quietly, “sometimes, you’re scary. Don’t... don’t piss off mom too much. Please.” 

“Book the tickets, honey poo,” you chime in an acidic tone, “and I’ll make sure mommy’s not crying into her champagne.”  

You poke centre of his chest and bounce on your heels before you spin away. Your mother’s disappointment might be like arsenic but Gwenyth’s is the exact antidote you need. 

❄️

“I know a girl in Toronto. A few actually,” Lloyd says over the steering wheel. He’s tasked with driving back to the hotel since you imposed sobriety on him as punishment for the day. “Strange, you’re nothing like them.” 

“I don’t care,” you grumble. 

“Ugh, your wheel is too low,” he mutters as he stops at a red and tries to adjust it. You don’t respond.  

You just want to lay down. Your head is pounding from the lack of sleep and Lloyd managed to book you an early morning flight which will curtail any meaningful sleep. You close your eyes and ignore his fussing. 

Finally, he steps on the gas. “So, Canada, you grew up with those geese, huh? Explains the bite--” 

“What?” 

“I read somewhere they have teeth--” 

“Why the heck are you moaning about geese for?” 

“I hear it now. Couldn’t place it before. I thought Minnesota or somewhere but when you’re angry, you get this twang--” 

“Be quiet,” you let your head drop back again. “I’m getting a migraine.” 

“Aw, baby,” he coos. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“I can make it better. I read somewhere that you can massage it better. Oh, and you know, orgasms--” 

“You read a lot of nonsense for someone who I never see reading,” you drone and prop your elbow against the door to cradle your head. 

“There’s a wealth of information on the internet when you’re not scrolling porn,” he chuckles. You let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t worry, pixie. I’m committed to this. Me and you, we’re going to get our piece of the pie and make off like bandits.

"So you let me play the loyal husband. I’ll get you all spread out and loose, I’ll rub your head and your shoulders, then my hands might wander a little bit more...” he hums. “I’ll touch the peach a bit, I just can’t help myself, but I think you’ll be ready by then.” 

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you snarl. 

“Ah, come on, flying is so stressful and after the day we had, we both need that release--” 

“How many more times do I need to tell you to stop?” 

“And how many times do I need to tell you I won’t? It’s fate now, Pixie.” He clucks and slowly turns. You lift your head and look up at the hotel sign. “Hey, if you like the long game, I can go along with it. Make it hurt so good.” 

“Do you ever think of anything else?” 

“There’s a constant undercurrent that never really leaves my mind,” he shrugs as he parks. “But I’m great at multitasking.” 

You grumble and shake your head. It sends a throbbing pulse through your skull. You undo your seatbelt and drag yourself out of the car. As the door shuts, you wince. Then Lloyd’s and you feel the nausea start to crawl through your guts. The lack of sleep, the stress, the alcohol, it’s a perfect recipe for a deadly migraine. 

You do your best to push through as you make your way up to the room silently. Lloyd is not so quiet. He’s rambling about something; a shirt? You don’t know and you don’t care.  

You take out the room and enter the hotel suite. You drop the key and your purse and shed your coat. You hang it on the hook on the back of the door and tread further in. You don’t stop until you get to the bed. You ease yourself down and bury your face in the pillow. 

“Pixie,” Lloyd’s worry puts you on edge. You raise your hand and wave him off without lifting your head. “You need some Advil?” 

You shoo him again with your fingers. You popped some with your last glass of wine. You probably should’ve opted for water. 

Your alarm is set. You will have to awake before the sky shifts that slightly lighter shade of grey and try again. You know better than to trust Lloyd, but you’re putting some faith in him to get you home. 

You feel the bed dip behind you and Lloyd’s mutters and grumbles creep into your ears. You move the pillow over your head and hug it against your ear. You tune him out as you urge your mind down to the depths. In your bouts, there is no relief, but sleep can at least dull the agony. 

Your brain turns to sludge as the steady pounding evens out to a tempo. You drift into the muddy no man’s land between waking and otherwise. You’re conscious enough to feel the pain, but you're detached enough to bear it. 

Time crumbles around like sand in a glass. Your mind swirls with churning recreations of the day behind you. Most of them fractured and nonsensical. Voices without words, faces without names. 

A shiver washes through you as a tickle flutters down the back of your thighs. The cool sensation flows over your skin. You shudder and cling to that tenuous state of dissociation. A jolt forces you out of the void. 

You roll over and throw your arm out. It bounces off of Lloyd’s shoulder as your eyes slit. You yipe as you find him tugging at your pants. You kick and amplify the siren whining in your head. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp as you flail at him. 

“Relax, pixie stick, I’m just trying to help you relax. You can’t sleep in this,” he peels your pants down your legs and you swat at him again. 

You look down and find your sweater gone, only your bra to conceal your chest. You quickly hide behind folded arms. “What the hell?” 

“Damn, Pix, you never said you had a dump truck he untangles the fabric from your ankles. 

You whimper and push yourself up on your elbows, you bareness secondary to your irritation. “Get way from me.” 

“Just let me rub you down,” he begs as he runs his hands up your calves. “Promise, I’ll be a good boy. I kept my dick strapped down, baby.” 

Your eyes flit down unthinkingly. He’s in only his briefs. The rest of him is exposed; his fur-trimmed chest, his thick but firm stomach, and his muscled legs. You look him in the face and he winks. “Made you look.” 

“Stop, please,” you flick your fingers at him. 

“You got me struggling,” he begs as his hands trail further up and he kneads your thighs. “I’m hurting like prom night and you been grinding on me in a tack ballgown all night--” 

“Ew--” 

“It’ll make you feel better--” 

You catch his fingers as he traces the edges of your underwear. As you curl up, the weight of your head thunks own at the base. Urgh. 

“No--” 

“I’m just going to rub you down like a good boy. That’s it,” pushes against your hands. “You can even keep these on.” He runs his thumbs along the front of your panties. “They look fucking delicious anyway.” 

“Lloyd.” 

“Shhh,” he hushes you and shoves your hands off of his. 

Before you can stop him, he straddles you. He puts his large hands around your skull and you whine. H works his fingers into your scalp as he continues to shush you and presses his thumbs to your temples. The warmth of his tough makes you sigh. You hate that it feels good. 

“Just like this, baby,” he purrs as he keeps you pinned under him. “Just relax.” 

Your eyes roll back as you shatter to pieces. In this state, you have no strength to fight him. Besides, why should you stop him when it feels so amazing? 

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Athens to Miami [6/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 7.5k Summary: How will finding out about Jeff affect your marriage? The situation also brings you both to consider how long you can keep going on playing Mr. and Mrs. Rogers to the public. Steve also questions whether upcoming campaign plans will help or hurt.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: I left you with a bombshell at the end of the last chapter, but FEAR NOT because I drop you in immediately where we left off. 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

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

[SEPTEMBER 28 - AFTERNOON CAMPAIGN FLIGHT FROM ATHENS TO MIAMI]

Some eyes had been on you, but now all of the staff turn to look at Steve to gage his reaction to this statement. His mouth is slightly open, a storm in his blue eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

You consider him for another moment, then pull out your phone, scroll to Jeff’s name in your contacts, and hit the call button. As the call starts to connect, Bucky leans over to whisper something in Steve’s ear. Steve frowns and shakes his head. Bucky shares a glare with him, then gets up and leaves the staff cabin.

As your call rings through to Jeff, you also stand, but you leave the staff cabin in the other direction, passing through to the private area that only you and Steve have total access to - anyone else needing to knock or be invited in.

You’re about to close the door when Steve catches it and follows in behind you.

You two exchange a look, both of you evidently trying to give nothing away about what just happened, and then you turn away to look out the window just as Jeff picks up on the other end of the line, answering with your name in an urgent and concerned tone.

"Hey, Jeff," you respond, keeping your voice neutral despite the tension you feel. You can feel Steve's presence behind you, a silent but palpable force in the small cabin.

"I'm so sorry," Jeff's voice comes through the phone, sounding genuinely distressed. "I didn't mean for any of this to get into the press. I swear I had no idea."

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. "What happened, Jeff?"

There's a sigh on the other end of the line. "I was at a barbecue at Mark and Sarah's last night. You remember them, right? From our old neighborhood?"

"Yeah, I remember," you say, a flood of memories from your previous life washing over you.

“I hadn’t heard from them in a couple of years, but they reached out, and I thought it would be nice to reconnect. Started talking to a new guy, I’d never met him before, figured it was one of their neighbors. He seemed nice enough, we got to talking about work, hobbies, life. I had no idea he was from TMZ and definitely didn’t know he was recording our conversation,” anger bleeds through the tail end of his explanation.

You sigh. You have no reason to doubt his story. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? No, I’m sorry! I was stupid saying anything to a stranger, and more stupid for even going to the party at all.”

“What? No, Jeff, I’m sorry because a choice I made is impacting your life. It’s not fair that you’re getting targeted by press, especially tabloids.”

Jeff is silent for a beat, and then he says. “He paid Mark and Sarah to get access to me.”

Your heart feels sick. “How did you-?”

“Lawyers from your campaign called me an hour and a half ago when TMZ put it up online to question me, they called back twenty minutes later with confirmation of the money trail.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again - because you are, and because you don’t know what else to say.

Jeff sighs heavily on the other end of the line. "Stop apologizing," he says, his voice soft but serious in his directive. "This isn't your fault."

You lean against the window, watching the clouds drift by below, a stark contrast to the turmoil you feel inside. "But it kind of is, Jeff. The press is only interested in you because we were married."

"That doesn't make it your fault," he insists. "The fact that some tabloid vultures want to profit off our past relationship isn't on you."

There's a moment of silence on the line, filled only by the faint hum of the plane's engines. You can feel Steve's presence behind you, a silent sentinel.

"You okay?" you ask finally.

"I'm... I'm mad. And disappointed - in myself and in them. I feel like an idiot. I should’ve known it was a weird time for them to reach out after not seeing them for so long."

"Jeff, you couldn't have known that. You assumed good intentions. It’s part of what makes you who you are.”

The words came so easily out of your mouth, but once they’ve been said, your chest aches, and part of you wishes you could take them back.

You don’t know what he’s thinking on the other end, but you know it can’t be easy for him either, because he only manages a small, “Thanks,” and then there’s another pregnant pause between you.

Jeff clears his throat, breaking the silence. "Did I mess anything up for the campaign? I know how important this is, and I'd hate to think I've caused any problems."

You shake your head, even though he can't see you. "No, Jeff. If anything, your comments were probably the best-case scenario. You were kind and respectful. It's hard for anyone to spin that negatively.”

There's a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. "Well, I guess all those years of you drilling the importance of tact into me finally paid off, huh?"

You can't help but smile. "You never needed me for that."

"You know," Jeff says, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone, "it's kind of amazing to see you in action like this. I mean, I always knew you were capable of great things, but if this works out, I can’t wait to see what you do in action as First Lady.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” you reply, a lump rising in your throat. “Listen, I better go.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he says. “Take care.”

“And you,” you reply. “Bye.”

You hang up the call, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring out the window at the clouds below. The weight of the conversation, of the past and present colliding, settles heavily on your shoulders.

Finally, you turn to face Steve. He's leaning against the cabin wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. The silence between you is thick with unspoken questions and emotions.

“You heard all of that, right?” you ask, knowing some of his senses are enhanced through the super soldier serum that changed his body eighty years ago.

He nods.

You sigh and take a seat on the arm rest of one of the chairs, no longer wanting to stand, but not wanting to be fully seated while he’s still standing. “I thought you knew about Jeff. It’s in my file.”

One of the first things meetings for you joining the campaign had been to sit down with Jake, the head of the campaign, Elsa the communications director, and your assistant Sophia, to review the opposition research file that had been compiled for you - everything that an opponent could potentially try to dig up from your past and attempt to attack you or the campaign with. Your marriage to Jeff had been part of that.

Steve's jaw clenches, and he looks away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I... I never read your file," he admits, his voice low and tinged with regret.

You had suspected as much given how he reacted to learning about Jeff, but the confession still hits you like a wave, leaving you momentarily speechless. A kaleidoscope of emotions swirls within you - surprise, confusion, a hint of hurt, and something else you can't quite name. The plane's engines hum in the background, filling the silence between you.

You study Steve's face, taking in the furrowed brow, the slight downturn of his lips. His blue eyes, usually so clear and determined, now hold a mix of guilt and uncertainty. It's a vulnerability you've rarely seen in him, and it catches you off guard.

"You never read it?" you question, your voice barely above a whisper. The implications of his admission begin to unfold in your mind, and it feels like pulling on a thread, unravelling a piece of what you thought had developed between you.”Why?”

"I trusted Pepper," he says softly.

The cabin suddenly feels smaller, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, there's a sharp knock on the cabin door.

“Come in,” Steve calls out.

The door swings open, revealing Bucky. His expression is a mix of concern and frustration as he strides into the cabin, a thick manila folder clutched in his metal hand. The soft whirring of the arm's plates adjusting is audible in the tense silence.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Bucky says, his voice a low growl as he thrusts the folder at Steve. "I can't believe you never read this."

Steve takes the folder, his fingers curling around the edges. The weight of it seems to surprise him, and he glances down at it with a furrowed brow. "Buck, I-"

"Save it," Bucky cuts him off, running a hand through his long hair in exasperation and then turning to address you. "I just found out before you made your call that this punk never bothered to look at your file. I’m sorry, I didn’t raise him to be so inconsiderate.”

Steve scoffs, “Raise me? You’re only one year older than me!”

In other circumstances, you would laugh at this exchange, but in this moment you can’t, your mind absorbing each new and shifting moment.

Bucky rounds back on his best friend. “I read it, Steve. I read every damn page because I wanted to make sure you weren't getting played or walking into a situation you’d regret. But you? You just went along with it, no questions asked?"

Steve's jaw clenches, his grip on the folder tightening. "I trusted Pepper's judgment. She wouldn't put someone in this position if she didn't think they were right for it."

"Right for what?" Bucky challenges. "The campaign? Or you?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. You feel your heart rate quicken, very aware of your presence in this conversation about you.

Steve's eyes flick to you for a moment before returning to Bucky. "Both," he says quietly.

Bucky shakes his head, looks at you and gives barely a quarter of a smile - seemingly all he can manage, and then leaves the two of you alone again.

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of emotions swirling in their blue depths. "I trusted Pepper," he says softly, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "When she told me about you, about this arrangement, I didn't want to reduce you to a file full of facts and figures. I wanted to get to know you as a person, not as a dossier."

He strides further into the cabin and takes a seat across from you. "I thought it would be more... genuine that way. To learn about you through our interactions, through the campaign, through..." he trails off, gesturing vaguely between the two of you.

“It has been. Even if we got a slow start.” Both of you know you had taken turns keeping your guards up at various points over the past four months. You slip down properly into your seat.

“We’ve been talking more with each other, about each other, though, so I have to ask… Is there a reason you’ve never brought up your divorce?”

You clasp your hands in your lap, but you continue to hold his gaze, even though your heart constricts painfully. “Aside from thinking you did know about him, it didn’t naturally come up, and I wasn’t eager to just drop one of the most painful pieces of my past into our conversations because it wasn’t a divorce.”

Steve’s brow furrows even more. It’s no wonder the man has developed so many worry lines.

“I was smitten from the moment I met him, and he loved me back the way you grow up dreaming about your future husband - only it was even better because it was real. Everything about it was so normal and real. We dated, we got married, he finished his residency and joined a good family practice. We bought a house. We stayed up late watching stupid movies or playing games or going to concerts on the weekends or just talking on the weekends. We started talking babies.”

You pause and look away.

“And then?”

You look back to Steve, and, eyes burning with tears you don’t want to cry, you say, “I didn’t exist for five years and he did.”

His face falls immediately.

You press on because this is like pressing on a wound when the skin has healed but the muscles are still sore beneath the surface.

“I reappeared in a house Jeff had sold. He was my first call, of course, and he still had the same number. He picked me upHe’d just been remarried for about a year, and they were four months along expecting their first child.”

You pause, letting the weight of your words settle in the cabin. Steve's face is a mix of shock and sympathy, his blue eyes wide as he processes what you've just revealed.

“It’s something like thirty percent of couples who were married before The Blip who have had to file for this new legal classification to end a marriage. They call it a cessation. An annulment legally voids a marriage as if it never happened, and divorce is too commonly associated with a negative ending, ergo new procedure and new language.”

Steve's face crumples with understanding and sympathy. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. "I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I had no idea."

You nod, blinking back tears. "It's okay. I mean, it's not okay, but... it's been a few years now. I've had time to process it."

Steve's eyes search your face. "But it still hurts."

You let out a shaky breath. "It was surreal. Like waking up from a dream, only to find that the nightmare was real. Jeff was devastated too, in his own way. He'd mourned me, moved on, built a new life. And then suddenly I was back, throwing everything into chaos. We both knew we couldn't just pick up where we left off, but it was hard to let go of what we'd had."

Steve nods slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like for both of you."

"It was complicated," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "We tried to be friends at first, but it was too painful. Too many memories, too much history. Eventually, we decided it was best to go our separate ways."

Steve reaches out hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours before he pulls it back. "That must have been incredibly difficult," he says softly.

You nod, swallowing hard. "It was. For a while, I felt like I was just going through the motions. Everything I had known, everything I had planned for my future, was gone in an instant."

"How did you move forward?" Steve asks, his voice gentle.

You take a deep breath. "Slowly. Day by day. I threw myself into work, into causes I cared about. I reconnected with old friends who had also returned, made new ones. And eventually," you pause, meeting Steve's eyes, "I started to feel like myself again.”

Steve nods, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's amazing how resilient we can be," he says softly. "How we can rebuild our lives from the ashes."

You smile faintly. "It's not always easy, but we find a way."

You can see how - though your experiences had been vastly different - you had each had to piece lives back together through loss and being pushed through time in ways you never could have dreamed.

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the steady hum of the plane's engines. Outside the window, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. The clouds below are bathed in golden light, creating an ethereal landscape that seems to stretch on forever.

Steve's gaze follows yours to the window, and for a moment, you both just watch the breathtaking view. When he turns back to you, his expression is thoughtful, almost hesitant.

"Can I ask you something?" he says, his voice low.

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I know this might be presumptuous of me to ask, but you'll always love Jeff, won't you?"

You take in his earnest expression, the way his brow is slightly furrowed with concern. The cabin feels both impossibly small and infinitely vast in this moment, like you're suspended in time and space, just the two of you existing in this bubble of honesty. You consider Steve's question, feeling the weight of your history with Jeff, the joy and the pain, the love and the loss.

"Love is... complicated," you begin, your voice soft but steady. "Jeff was my first real love - the love that weathers storms kind of love. For a long time, he was my whole world. But the world changed. We both changed. And while there will always be a part of me that cares deeply for Jeff, that cherishes the memories we shared and the life we built together, it's more like..." you pause, searching for the right words.

"It's like loving a chapter of a book that's already been written?” Steve offers.

You nod, and your mind clicks, putting together that the two of you share this understanding, too.

You have Jeff and he had Peggy Carter.

“You can look back on it fondly, appreciate the story,” he continues, “but you can never go back.”

"Exactly," you say softly, meeting Steve's gaze. "It's a part of my past that shaped me, but it's not my present or my future."

Steve nods, his blue eyes filled with far too much understanding. "I know that feeling," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of shared experiences hanging between you. The fading sunlight casts long shadows across the cabin, painting everything in warm, golden hues.

"Steve," you begin, your heart racing slightly, "I hope you know that despite how this arrangement started, I've come to care about you. Genuinely."

His eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and something else—hope, maybe—flickering across his face. "I care about you too," he says, his voice low and earnest, and he looks like he wants to say more, but you cut him off, knowing you need to say what’s been slowly rising to the surface in the back of your mind while the two of you have been alone in here.

“Steve, we have to tell the senior staff of the campaign about our arranged marriage. I don’t know if we go public, but we need to bring them in so it doesn’t get discovered by someone else and revealed in a blindside that no one is ready for. They were already pretty thrown off that you didn’t know about Jeff, and that’s something two people who actually dated - for any amount of time - would have known about each other before tying the knot, and we have got to be kidding ourselves if we think there aren’t other pieces that they think don’t quite fit together.”

Steve leans back fully in his seat and drops his head back, looking at the ceiling. “What, like how we didn’t sit together much before a few weeks ago? Them potentially overhearing any of our conversations where we’re clearly getting to know each other? Or, you know, not sharing a room the nights we stay in the same city and bouncing between the excuses of it being easier so we don’t wake the other one up if one of us has an earlier call time, one of us being too light of a sleeper, or that I don’t sleep as much with being a super soldier and don’t want to keep you up while I take phone calls or strategy meetings?”

You grimace. “Obviously Bucky and Sam know, but the only way the rest of them don’t already know is if they are far too busy doing their jobs from before dawn until after midnight and don’t specifically speak to anyone else on the campaign about the odd things that might raise a flag.”

Steve sighs heavily, running a hand over his beard. "You're right," he admits, his voice tinged with resignation. "We can't keep this up forever. The longer we wait, the worse it could be if it comes out."

You nod, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. "So, how do you want to do this? Call a meeting when we land in Miami?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, we need to do it now."

You raise an eyebrow. "Now? As in, on the plane?"

"Why not?" Steve says, a hint of determination creeping into his voice. "We've got the whole senior staff here. It's a controlled environment. No risk of being overheard by the wrong people."

“We should tell Jake first,” you say, standing up and smoothing down your clothes. "As campaign manager, we owe him the courtesy of finding out before the rest of the staff since he is their leader. Then we can work with him to figure out how to tell the rest of the senior staff and map strategy."

Steve nods in agreement, standing up as well. "You're right. Jake should know first." He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "Ready?"

You give a short nod, your heart racing.

Steve reaches for the cabin door, but pauses with his hand on the handle. He turns back to you, his blue eyes intense. "Whatever happens, we're in this together, okay?"

"Together," you agree softly, though there’s a piece of you that wonders how you ever thought any of this would truly work.

With that, Steve opens the door and you both step out into the main cabin. The staff members look up as you enter, curiosity and concern evident on their faces. You spot Jake near the front, poring over some documents.

"Jake," Steve calls out, his voice steady and authoritative. "We need to speak with you privately.”

Bucky glances glances at you, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You give him a small nod, and he seems to understand, settling back in his seat. Steve is already stepping back into the private cabin, Jake heading toward you, but your gaze lingers on Bucky for another moment. You never thought you would be at a point where Bucky would be supportive of your arranged marriage, let alone getting after Steve and siding with you on how things were between you.

As the three of you enter the private cabin, Jake's eyes flick between you and Steve, his expression carefully neutral. The air feels thick with tension as Steve closes the door behind you, sealing off the curious gazes of the staff outside.

Jake takes a seat, his posture relaxed but attentive. The setting sun casts long shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of experience etched there. You and Steve remain standing, unconsciously positioning yourselves as a united front.

Steve takes a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for battle. "Jake, there's something we need to tell you about our relationship," he begins, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of tension. "The story about our whirlwind engagement... it's not entirely accurate."

Jake's expression remains impassive, his eyes moving between you and Steve as he listens.

Steve’s eyes meet your breifly before he continues. "Pepper did set us up, but it wasn't a typical matchmaking situation. It was... an arrangement."

The word hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Jake's expression remains unreadable, his eyes fixed on Steve.

"An arrangement," Steve repeats, his voice low and steady, "specifically designed to provide me with a wife who could potentially serve as First Lady. We met for the first time the day we got married. Everything since then - the public appearances, the interviews, the campaign trail - it's all been part of a carefully constructed narrative."

As Steve speaks, you find yourself transported back to those first awkward days. The stilted conversations, the hesitant touches, the constant awareness of the cameras and the expectations weighing on both of your shoulders.

You watch Jake carefully, searching for any sign of surprise or disappointment, but his years of political experience have clearly honed his ability to maintain a poker face. His fingers are steepled under his chin, his eyes never leaving Steve's face as he absorbs every word.

Steve's voice grows softer as he delves into the more personal aspects of your arrangement - the initial awkwardness, the gradual building of trust, the unexpected bond that has formed between you. You feel a lump forming in your throat as you listen to him describe your journey, realizing just how far you've come.

When Steve finally gets to the end, not going into details, but going right through pieces of the conversation you had about the misunderstanding with Jeff, not reading your dossier, and then talking through it together, both of you are quiet, waiting for Jake to process and respond.

He leans back in his seat, the leather creaking softly under his weight. For a moment, he simply looks at you both, his gaze moving between you and Steve with an unreadable intensity.

Then, to your utter astonishment, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I know," he says quietly.

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Your jaw drops, your mind reeling from this revelation, and you can see Steve's eyes wide in surprise. The cabin suddenly feels smaller, more claustrophobic, as if the walls are closing in around you.

"You know?" Steve manages to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jake leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, that small smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. "I've known from the beginning," he says, his voice low and steady. "In fact, I was the one who insisted on it."

Jake continues, his eyes moving between you and Steve. "When Pepper approached me about running this campaign, I knew it would be unlike anything we've ever seen before. A man out of time, a living legend, running for the highest office in the land." He pauses, his gaze settling on Steve. "I’ve made political miracles happen. I’ve done it many times in my career. But I knew I couldn’t make multiple miracles happen. Someone with a name but without much political background? Yes. A third party candidate? Yes. An unmarried man? Yes. All three? Not taking that chance. I told her I’d only take the campaign if she got you married off.”

You blink, no words coming to you. Steve huffs and widens his stance, putting his hands on his hips. His jaw clenches as he processes Jake's words. "So this whole thing... it was your idea?"

Jake nods, his expression serious. "Not the specifics, mind you. I didn't choose who you'd marry or how it would happen. I just laid out the necessity of it. Pepper handled the rest."

You find your voice, though it comes out quieter than you intended. "Why didn't you tell us you knew?"

"I wanted to see how you two would handle it. How you'd work together, how you'd present yourselves to the public and the staff. I needed to know if this arrangement could work, if you could sell it convincingly enough."

Steve's posture stiffens, his voice taking on an edge. "So we've been what, some kind of experiment to you?”

Jake holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Not an experiment, Steve. A necessary political strategy. And I have to say, you've both exceeded my expectations."

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - relief that Jake already knew, frustration at being kept in the dark, and a strange sense of pride at his last statement. "How have we exceeded your expectations?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Jake leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "At first, I was worried. You two were clearly uncomfortable around each other, and it showed. But over time, something changed. You started to gel, to work as a unit. The way you interact now, the little touches, the shared glances - it's become genuine."

Steve's posture relaxes slightly, but his voice is still tense when he speaks. "So what happens now? Do we tell the rest of the staff? The rest of America?”

Jake shakes his head, his expression turning serious. "In an ideal world, yes. But this isn't an ideal world. This is politics. And in politics, sometimes the truth can be more damaging than a carefully crafted narrative."

Steve's jaw clenches again, his discomfort with the situation evident. "I don't like lying to the American people," he says, his voice low.

Jake stands up, moving to face both of you directly. "It's not lying, Steve. It's... selective truth-telling. You two are married. It all moved really quickly. What started as an arrangement has become something more. And that's what we'll continue to present to the world - a strong partnership, a united front."

You feel a mix of relief and unease at his words. "But what about transparency? Isn't that what this campaign is supposed to be about?"

Jake raises an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. "Transparency in governance, yes. But the intimate details of your personal life? Why should those be public knowledge if the broad strokes are there?"

He moves to the window, gazing out at the fading sunset.

"Look," Jake continues, his voice taking on a gentler tone, "nearly half of all marriages in America end in divorce. People change, circumstances change. What matters is how couples work through those changes together."

He turns back to face you and Steve, his eyes moving between you. "And let's not forget, arranged marriages are still a reality for many families in America. Immigrants from cultures where it's common, religious communities that practice it. The fact that you two have made it work, have grown together - that's actually a powerful narrative in itself."

You and Steve exchange a glance, both processing Jake's words. There's truth in what he's saying, even if it feels uncomfortable.

"So what do we tell the rest of the staff?" you ask, breaking the silence.

Jake considers for a moment. "Essential personnel only - so the directors and your right hands, though I imagine Bucky and Sam already know?” Steve nods and Jake continues. “We tell them the basics. That your relationship started unconventionally, that it was initially more of an arrangement than a romance. But we emphasize how you've grown together, how you've become a true partnership. We focus on the present and the future, not the past."

Steve nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "And the public?"

"For now, nothing changes," Jake says firmly. "We continue with the narrative we've established. If questions arise, we address them honestly but carefully. We emphasize the same message. If people want to fight that, we point out a willingness to sacrifice, an ability to build meaningful relationships, there are a lot of ways we can go with it.”

You and Steve exchange a long look, a silent conversation passing between you. You have reservations, and so does he, but what Jake is saying makes the most sense. At least for now.

Steve takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I understand the strategy," he says, his voice low and steady. "And I agree that we shouldn't disrupt the campaign or put unnecessary pressure on our relationship by going public with every detail."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I agree," you say softly. "What we have... It's complicated and it's evolving, but it's ours.”

“Good,” Jake says. Then his expression shifts, an eagerness in his eyes. "Now that we've cleared the air, I have some news for you," he says, his voice taking on a tone of barely contained enthusiasm.

You and Steve exchange a curious glance, the tension from your previous conversation slowly dissipating.

"Elsa and her team have been working on getting a high-profile interview scheduled for the two of you?" Jake begins, pacing the small cabin with an energy that seems to electrify the air around him.

Steve nods, his brow furrowing slightly. "Yes, I remember you mentioning it a few days ago."

Jake's face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with triumph. "Well, I'm pleased to announce that we've secured what might just be the most coveted interview slot in America."

[SEPTEMBER 28 - EVENING DRIVE FROM THE RALLY BACK TO THE MIAMI AIRPORT]

“I don’t like it,” Steve says as soon as the partition between the front and back of the SUV has closed and your privacy is in place. He had also quickly jumped in the vehicle after you and shut the door to prevent anyone else joining you on the way to the airport.

You let out as small of an exasperated sigh as you can manage.

“Like it or not, it’s what’s happening,” you respond.

The the ninety-minute flight time from Athens to Miami (thanks to an airliner boosted with Stark technology) had not been enough time to tell the senior staff about your marriage, do the final logistics review for Miami, and discuss a potential strategy adjustment for the coming days given the revelation about your marriage and the ramp up to the game-changing interview coming up, so while Steve had been on stage, you had been finalizing the itinerary with Jake, Elsa, Bucky, and Pepper, who weighed in over the phone.

“I don’t think it’s the right time for you to head off to the other side of the country.”

You frown at him. “Steve, we all signed off on this plan two days ago! Zoey and I are expected to show up for this string of women-targeted events from San Diego to Seattle, and it would be horrible to cancel now.”

Steve opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “Plus, Helen Santos has agreed to appear at some of those stops with us. This will be huge for the women’s vote on the West Coast.”

Steve's jaw clenches and the breaks between Miami streetlights cast intermittent shadows across his face. "I understand the political value," he says, his voice low and tense. "But after everything that's happened today, I don't think we should be apart right now."

You feel a mix of frustration and warmth in your chest at his concern. "Steve," you say, your voice softer now, "we can't change our entire campaign strategy every time something unexpected happens. That's not how this works."

“Isn’t it?” he asks. "We adjust strategy every day, and this isn't just 'something unexpected.' This is about us, about our relationship. We just told the senior staff about our arrangement. Don't you think we need some time to process that together?"

You lean back in your seat, considering his words. "I get it. Today has been intense for us both. But the West Coast tour has been planned and the advance teams have been preparing everything and rallying people to come. We’ve spent money on ad buys and billboards. Canceling now would raise more questions than we want to deal with."

He sighs heavily, running a hand over his beard. "I know you're right. I just... I worry about you being so far away, especially now."

"Maybe this is exactly what we need right now," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve's brow furrows, his blue eyes searching your face. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Think about it, Steve. Since this whole thing started, we've been living this performance, day in and day out, sometimes together, sometimes apart. You got talked into marrying me, Sam had to lecture you and Bucky to start giving me a real chance,” Steve opens his mouth but you put up a hand, “I overheard him in Cleveland. And, yes, ultimately it was good for us to talk about Jeff today, but it has me thinking about a lot of things.”

“Like what?” he asks earnestly, reaching for your hand.

You look down and squeeze it in return.

"Like why I agreed to this in the first place," you say softly. "When Pepper approached me with this idea, part of me thought it was crazy. But another part... another part of me saw it as an opportunity."

Steve's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, encouraging you to continue.

"After Jeff, after losing everything I had built and dreamed of I was terrified of caring that deeply again. Of investing so much of myself in another person, only to have it all ripped away." Your voice catches slightly, and you swallow hard before continuing. "This arrangement it felt safe, in a way. Detached. A way to move forward without risking my heart again.

“I knew you were a good guy, Steve. One of the best. Everyone knows that. Captain America, the hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. I wasn't worried about an arranged marriage with you because I knew it would be good companionship, doing important work for others. We'd be partners in a noble cause, working to make the world better."

You pause, looking out the window at the Miami streets passing by, the neon lights of the city blurring into streaks of color. When you turn back to Steve, his blue eyes are fixed on you, intense and attentive.

"But then something changed," you continue, your voice soft. "You started to open up, to let me see beyond the shield, beyond the legend. I saw your kindness, your humor, your vulnerability. The way you care so deeply about everything and everyone around you. But I don’t want either of us getting swept up into something just because we’re in this weird life that is the campaign where every minute is compressed and there are scores people around us in addition to the thousands of people we’re meeting every day and a hundred reporters and falling into each other would just be too easy while we play these parts.”

You leave off there, your heart pounding, unsure of what to say next, but sure that you said what you needed to say, even if you don’t know what is means even in your own mind and heart yet. But you know the thoughts and feelings are there.

“Where does that leave us then?” Steve questions after a few moments. “I don’t want us to take a step back.”

Your throat aches yet again with tears that want to come but that you don’t want to shed. “I don’t either,” you finally say. “I don’t feel like it’s a step back, maybe just a step sideways, needing to find more secure footing.”

The electric sound of the partition lowering a few inches interrupts the two of you.

“Captain and Mrs. Rogers, we’re about three minutes out from the airport,” the driver says, and Steve thanks him as he rolls the partition back up.

“It’s only a week,” you reassure him.

Steve sighs. “The whole point of schedule this split in our appearances together precisely at this point was to get the public primed in the idea that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’” he says. “Maybe it’ll work for us.”

You don’t need to grow fonder of him. “Maybe it will clear our hearts more than anything.”

“I guess we’ll see,” he says. Then he turns and looks out the window on his side.

You continue holding hands the last few minutes, but sit in silence.

[SEPTEMBER 28 - LATE EVENING - MIAMI AIRPORT]

The campaign staff swarms around you and Steve as soon as you exit the SUV. The private hangar buzzes with activity as luggage is loaded and last-minute preparations are made. You feel a twinge of anxiety as you realize this is where you and Steve will part ways for the next week.

"Mrs. Rogers, your flight to San Diego is on schedule. Wheels up in 30 minutes," Sophia, your assistant, informs you as she hands you a folder. "I've updated your briefing materials for tomorrow's events."

You nod, taking the folder and trying to focus on Sophia's words even as your mind lingers on the conversation with Steve in the car. The weight of your discussion, of the revelations and uncertainties, sits heavy in your chest.

As Sophia briefs you on the details, you can't help but glance over at Steve. He's surrounded by his own team, nodding seriously as they discuss something. His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel a jolt of electricity pass between you. There's so much left unsaid, so many emotions swirling just beneath the surface.

"Mrs. Rogers?" Sophia's voice snaps you back to attention. "Did you hear what I said about the event with Zoey Young and Helen Santos tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'm sorry, Sophia. Could you repeat that?" you ask, forcing yourself to focus.

As Sophia goes over the details again, you see Steve making his way over to you. Your heart rate picks up slightly as he approaches.

"Can I have a moment?" he asks, his voice low.

Sophia nods and steps away, giving you some privacy. You turn to face Steve, acutely aware of the bustling activity around you.

"I just wanted to say," Steve begins, then pauses, running a hand through his hair. "Be safe out there, okay? And if you need anything…”

“You, too,” you offer back.

Bucky approaches out of nowhere, “Sorry, wheels up in ten for us, Steve, but you can take a few more minutes if you sprint to the plane.”

Bucky squeezes your shoulder briefly. “You take care.”

You nod and smile as warmly as you can.

Alone in the sea of people again, you and Steve stall to savor a few final moments, but the uncertainty of how you’ll part is palpable.

“I meant what I said in the car about not wanting it to be a step back for us either,” you start. “I thought I’d have Sophia connect with Bucky about finding thirty minutes a day in our schedules for us to jump on a call together.”

“I think that sounds good,” Steve agrees.

Quiet falls between you two again. Your heart beats hard in your chest because now that it’s time for you to split up and board two separate planes and it was you who insisted it’s what you needed, in the final moments part of you is wavering.

Then Steve moves half a step closer and takes both of your hands in his. His touch is warm, familiar, and you feel a flutter in your chest as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that makes the bustling airport hangar fade away.

"Before you go," Steve says, his voice low and urgent, "there's something I need you to know."

You nod, your heart continuing to pound in your chest, the nearness of him both comforting and electrifying.

"I know Pepper told you I was reluctant to agree to this. She had an easier time convincing me to run than to get married. But the logical points checked out, and since I was already in, I knew I had to be all in, and I trusted Pep.”

You remember your own early conversations with Pepper, the careful way she had explained Steve's hesitation. At the time, you had assumed it was about understanding that Steve needed to become a more conventional candidate with marriage helping that.

Steve's eyes search yours, his voice softening as he continues, "But I gave her that trust because she agreed to make her choice based on the one condition I wanted her to agree to: pick someone she could see me marrying if I weren't running for President. That’s the real reason I never read your file."

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words settling over you.

"When I first met you," Steve says, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the backs of your hands, "I understood why Pepper chose you. You were kind, intelligent, passionate about making a difference. But I was still guarded, still unsure about this whole arrangement."

He takes a deep breath, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "As I got to know you, as we spent time together, I questioned myself, not knowing how to move forward since I’d faltered in the beginning, but then we started to really make something of this. I don’t know what this is yet or what will happen to us, but I think it’s something good.”

“Steve, I-”

He leans in and kisses your cheek, lingering, and your eyes flutter closed in that moment. You inhale the mix of his cologne with his natural scent, feel the warmth of his cheek against yours, the light scratch of his beard, and you want time to stop right there.

When he pulls back, there’s a serene smile on his face. “I’ll see you in Brooklyn, Mrs. Rogers.”

next part: coming 12/6

Before anyone gets carried away: THERE WILL NOT BE ANY ROMANTIC OR LUSTFUL CHAOS WITH BUCKY. Purely platonic. But now that you're one of his people, you're one of his people, and he's disappointed/annoyed with Steve, so he's in your corner on this day.

↠ 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!

[angy-grrr]

According to these "leaks":

Izuku only thinks about Shigaraki one time, leads to nowhere as there is no Plus ultra/we all can do it if we reach out to others message. The villains, society's duality, hope and dispair arent part of this chapter according to these leaks.

No All Might, the closest thing is the signed card. We also get no update on him, so we lose the plus ultra foundation of the series at the actual end.

Izuku rejects Katsuki's offer to be part of his agency, hes okay working with everyone else and being a teacher, we lose the plus ultra foundation of the series again (the other half of all might's heroism, leading to believe theres no reason to join forces like that; it goes against what Toshinori told them and the war callback).

We dont see them actually working; we know they did, but we dont know how izuku's suit works, how they all would fight together or what their role is now that there arent as many villains.

We get quick updates of many heroes.

We get a bittersweet moment from Shouto

We dont know what Ochako's program does, leaving again the conversation about society, quirks heroes and villains out of it completely.

I n another hand, Ochako keeps feeling like shit but not because she could have done something more for Himiko like last time, this time is bc she really likes Deku even more than before and wants to date him but it wouldnt be fair to Himiko. We regress her character, as she once again hides her feelings and is miserable even after working on changing the future of so many kids to be understood like Himiko deserved; even after her achievements, is not enough, because she needs to date Deku even if Himiko is an "obstacle" who needs to give her permission to live her life. There's no real full experienced life without expressing how much she wants to date Deku.

She actually expresses concern to Tsuyu, but apparently is not enough ; the only one who could help is Izuku, as the goal is to get them dating, even tho in chapter 429 it was revealed she hid from everyone including Tsuyu, not just Deku. Instead of learning about expressing your bad feelings to the ppl around you to healthily solve them, these "leaks" push a message of "telling your friend doesnt actually help, you have to date that guy".

Izuku uses Katsuki's words to understadn he should date Ochako, as he thinks shes particularly special (Izuku picks a favorite person in his life). She agress they should keep talking forever, and they dap. End of the series.

on top of that, she actually doesnt express her pain to Izuku (seeing Himiko's ghost, being conflicted about her wanting her to be free and love and the reminder of her ghost...), directly lets him talk about how shes special and wants to spend extra time with her in particular, and agrees.

This narration pushes the idea that Himiko as a ghost has been haunting Ochako for 8 years exclusively to start dating Izuku. The program and her work, her expressing her pain, etc dont matter. For her to "actually be free", she needs to date him.

Dap.

[mooniemilkieway]

Laughing Jack Headcanons Part 2

this is literally my character app lmfao I've been coming up with ideas about him since I started fangirling (badly) for him again so let's go.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

(gif/animation by @/ijustwannahavefun)

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

★。＼｜／。★

⛧ Laughing Jack is essentially corrupted by Lucifer to be used as a weapon to obtain his vengeance on God for casting him out. When an angel was traveling the Jack-in-the-Box to Isaac, Lucifer sent one of his demons to attack the angel and put a "curse" on the box. This could explain why Laughing Jack-even before Isaac abandoned him-seemed to be murderous as he mutilated a cat when him and Isaac were playing outside.

⛧ LJ does have more of an "virtuous" voice. He has a gentle, almost father like, voice. It's usually for when he wants engage with someone he genuinely likes or if he wants to calm someone down. However, don't let this deceive you as it could be because of manipulation. Once he starts showing his true motives, his voice would become more sinister.

(His "innocent" voice headcanon that being Sebastian Michaelis: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgBWOTtTp4Q)

(His "malicious" voice headcanon that being Alex Brightman's Beetlejuice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMrt9demNeA)

⛧ He takes interest in porcelain harlequin dolls. He was first introduced into making them around the late 1900s when he was targeting one of his victims and their brother was a merchant for harlequin dolls. Obviously LJ killed his victim and the brother because they were scamming and being evil by abusing their nephews and based on his new hobby, he captured their souls and sealed them in two porcelain harlequin dolls he created. They are both in a small, glass display in on of LJ's carnival tents.

⛧ Relating back to the previous one, Laughing Jack doesn't kill innocent children or people for that matter. Sure, he may scare or tease you, but he would never lay a finger on you unless if you are that of vile soul. Especially if you abuse children.

⛧ Laughing Jack loves studying astronomy. Whenever he walks outside on a full moon with stars aligned in the night sky, he would always wonder what it'll be like to travel across the galaxy. He even thought about if there's other life forms on different planets. This can explain why he is more stronger magic wise during the full moon period.

⛧ He is also a writer. When he began writing was as the same time Isaac was still being homeschooled. He learned how to do cursive writing. He would definitely write letters either warning someone about the dangers that lie ahead of them or would write a threatening one to his victim.

⛧ Laughing Jack has photophobia or has sun-sensitive eyes. This is most likely because he has been stuck in a dark, enclosed area for almost 13 years. He can technically be in sunlight but he'll have discomfort. So if you want to get away from him just shine a really bright flashlight in his eyes. One of the people Laughing Jack was protecting noticed this and offered him a pair of their old glasses because they had the same condition. LJ does wear them but only when no one can see his as he doesn't want to seem "vulnerable."

⛧ He is also very...old fashion. He prefers listening to music by a vinyl and a record player and doesn't understand the concept of technology or what the new generation is into. He is also very concerned about the "Get Alpha" slang...

⛧ If Laughing Jack gets stabbed or has one of his limbs cut off he could easily attach it back by sewing that area with just needle and thread and wrap it with his iconic bandages and it'll function like normal.

⛧ He loves the snow. Especially when it's at night. He finds it very magical and would take someone out with him to a snowy forest so they could have a walk and talk to each other about their deepest feelings.

⛧ His scent is that of a victoria sponge cake. It is actually a strong smell that you probably wouldn't even think it came from him.

⛧ For funnies, yes Laughing Jack does know all of the Sanrio characters.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜

[every-kuzu]

Please I beg you to do a character analysis on Kakuzu <3 from whichever part of him you'd like

okay. i’ve got a two hour car ride and a playlist to listen to - lets take a crack at this.

i’ve talked about this a little in response to another ask, so i’ll be bringing up stuff that i have touched on before, but first and foremost - kakuzu is a very guarded character. a lot of the time, you need to pause and really observe him, peel back the layers, which is something a lot of naruto fans don’t really do - probably because kishimoto didn’t spend a lot of time on him and hidan. hell, there are some things that even i didn’t notice until i started this blog and had to pause and observe him.

so. when you ask the average naruto fan about kakuzu, what’s the first thing they would think of? money, most likely. and his love for money is a big part of his character - but is it really the biggest? he says that the only thing you can have faith in is money, which i have no doubt is his actual philosophy, but he still backs away from asuma and his bounty (which it’s clearly been shown that he wants) when pain calls them back to ame. hidan complains and tries to bargain for more time, but kakuzu shuts him up and falls back immediately. this could’ve easily been a moment where he too tells pain that they need more time, but no.

because kakuzu is loyal. one could even be so bold as to call him loyal to a fault, especially in the past and even more especially given his past. that loyalty is what allowed takigakure to betray him in the past, yet he still shows pain that very same loyalty. he even tells hidan that the mission they were given by pain is absolute - another thing that is very unexpected, given his backstory.

so what does this tell us? that kakuzu believes in akatsuki's plans, or at the very least has a lot of respect for pain. (this plan being nagato's original, not any of the three-or-four-different-plans-in-a-trenchcoat-bullshit that showed up in the war arc.) now, kakuzu is also very obviously jaded from a long life in a world like naruto's, so i'd say it's up to interpretation how much faith he actually had in akatsuki, but do you really think he'd stay if he didn't see himself getting anything out of it in the end?

and that brings me very-much-not-seamlessly to my next point: he's not as uncaring as he acts, and this is best illustrated through his relationship with hidan.

now, when you look at their relationship, the general consensus would be that they hate each other. and once you look a little deeper, it seems like hidan cares more then kakuzu. according to some sources, he only joined the akatsuki because of kakuzu, and he openly shows concern for him in the fight versus team 10 + kakashi. but what's often overlooked here is that kakuzu does the same, and that's likely because you have to look even deeper to see it.

on the surface, kakuzu seems to be at the very least annoyed with hidan at all times. he berated him and talks down to him most of the time, and hidan retaliates. they seem to be at each other’s throats most of the time. but kakuzu has a lot of faith in hidan’s abilities. the minute hidan gets his curse on asuma, kakuzu’s thoughts are about how he’s 35 million ryo richer, which shows that he truly believed that hidan had it in the bag. the same goes for the fight with team 10 + kakashi - when they get separated, kakuzu openly expresses that he believes that hidan will kill shikamaru. he also shows concern for hidan, which is best shown, again, in the fight with team 10 + kakashi. kakuzu might not show it as openly as hidan does, but he does care about him. unfortunately, since we get to see so little of them, this is the best example i’ve got and we can only speculate how this care extended to the other members of the akatsuki.

which brings me to the next thing i want to touch upon - his anger and how it’s presented to us. or rather, not presented, because it’s an informed flaw.

the kakuzu we’re told about through other characters is apparently famous for entering a murderous rage every time something annoys him, but the kakuzu we’re shown doesn’t match this. the kakuzu we see is jaded, stoic, and grumpy, but he’s never mad. the most we get is him taking a single swipe at hidan after he griped about a bounty, but that was just in the anime. we know that he’s killed four former partners in this murderous rage of his, but he never shows a sign of being even close to snapping in the manga. and yet this “anger” is what most of the fandom chooses to cling to when it comes to him, which i think is because it’s something that can be observed from how other characters talk about him and not something that you need to observe from him. still, kakuzu’s murderous rage is an informed flaw, which i think is disconnected from how he’s presented to us, especially when we dig a little deeper.

in the end, i don’t really have a conclusion to all of this. it was mostly a way for me to point things out that most people might’ve not noticed. but in the end, this is just my personal interpretation of all these little things, and i’m not trying to claim that it’s the only correct one, but i’m just saying - i believe that there is more to him under the surface.

[kapyushonchan]

It's not the authors who write these cards about "Why should you romance character X?"? Sasha has nothing to do with this at all, she can help create a character profile, but everything else, and this card in particular, are problems you should be asking from RC management and their PR.

I realize that the last update upset a lot of people, but it bothers me that Sasha has started to be slandered because people are unhappy with her poor writing choices (As if other authors in RC don't have the same issues that Sasha does).This isn't the first such confession post. In another post, people in the comments have started making assumptions about her personality and personal life because Sasha is giving them "a bad vibe" and they don't even know her personally.

Criticizing the author for certain decisions is one thing, but going ad hominem and accusing the author of something that happens behind the scenes of development because you think she's behind it is overstepping the mark. I understand why it happens - Sasha doesn't keep social media, rarely updates her Telegram blog, comments are closed, but the desire to vent bile is very strong among some people, and that's why nitpicky drama starts.

Let me emphasize that I'm not saying that Sasha can't be criticized, she should be, her Greg and Anna routes are the weakest among favourites. Criticism helps improve the work, and Sasha always listened to criticism - added warm things to Laine's closet, added worldbuilding information when questions arose, etc. What I'm saying is that you can't criticize her like /the examples I mentioned above/. Instead, it would be better to write a detailed and constant feedback in the official RC groups with your concerns and things you find problematic, they listen to it.

And once again I remind you that you can always vote with your diamonds. If you're upset with the author, stop spending diamonds on their work, play on Diamond rush only or simply boycott their stories. And always leave feedback.

Confession:

1) "I am totally disappointed in Sasha for that absolutely poorly thought-out and borderline fetishistic Greg card. And before you say it was a joke like Cain's character profile, it wasn't funny, didn't laugh."

2) "I'm probably being overly sensitive but I don't like how Greg's character profile only says about how hot he is without taking into account his personality. Like there's no mention about his charisma, his leadership skills, his love for food, his interest in geography, etc. I know it's meant to be a joke but it feels too....fetishized?? It's even more screwed up if the one who made his profile were the author themselves."

[sobx9]

My five favourites Jiara fan fiction stories (because why not)

I would like to give the biggest kudos to fan fiction writers, especially in the Jiara fandom. Seriously, some of the works in this fandom are sooo good and we, fans, really appreciate you! Especially now, when the ship has basically ended in the show, it’s comforting to go back and read works where Jiara is happy/has a happy ending.

I envy you for being able to write that well. I have so many ideas, story lines, even dialogues for JJ and Kiara in my head but I am really struggling to write it all down. I am trying to write my first fic right now but it’s not going well at all.

Here’s my top five:

around the world - RaeOfFrickingSunshine - @rae-of-fricking-sunshine

This one is a no brainer in my head. I read so it many times. The way it portrays them falling in love over the course of their “surf” trip, there’s something so real in this about how falling in love with your best friend can look like. I also love the other topics, JJ’s strained relationship with his father, Kiara’s issue with food and body image, the bond between the Pogues. Honestly a master piece that I could talk about for hours. Only issue? There’s not more of it. Yes, there’s a part 2 which is as good as the first one, but I would honestly die to have the first part told by JJ’s perspective with more scenes from their trip.

This “rant” from Kiara is still stuck in my head, because it’s so heartbreaking and true.

“You don’t know why I’m mad? I’m mad because Pope gets concerned when I walk alone at night in Berlin – one of the safest cities in the world. I’m mad because some guy feels entitled to my body when all I’ve done is dance with him. I’m mad because whenever I say I’ve got male best friends everyone assumes I’ve fucked you all. I’m mad because everyone says be careful and oh are you wearing that out as if it’s going to be my fault that something happens to me, even if it’s someone else doing that thing. I’m mad because me changing what I wear doesn’t stop that bad thing happening, it just makes it happen to someone else. I’m mad because I’m thinking what if I did do something, did I ask for it.”

baby i'm not even in a gown (the way you want me make me want you now) - RoseofWinterfell - @whitetrashjj

Honestly, I had a hard time picking out my favourite work from this author, they are all pure gold. But at the end I decided to go with this one. It’s shorter, light hearted, smutty and so much fun. This author writes the characters so well in all of their pieces, better than the show itself in my opinion.

Firsts- piglemousse - @piglemousse

Another great one and with much better story line for them after season 3 than what we actually got. I am a sucker for stories with them travelling the world.

the benefits of being under the influence(r) - noos - @kiekiecarrera

AU one, but JJ and Kiara are so in character in this. It has the enemies to friends with benefits to lovers trope which is always fun and is just beautifully written.

Enemies with Benefits and Beach Houses - Lis4 - @lis4ux

Another enemies to lovers one that’s currently being written. Big kudos to the author for keeping up with it during the season 4 fiasco. It’s something I look forwards to reading every weekend.

There’s so many more out there and it was very hard to pick only five. Thank you again to you authors for creating beautiful works to read!

If anyone wants to share their favourites, please do not hesitate. Or come scream at me about Jiara and OBX (well maybe not scream, I am a sensitive one)

[cloudyicarus-blog]

I wanted to add to my last post about Anya and her lack of understanding as a character (since the point is that neither Curly or Jimmy see her as a person, thus, she is never known as who she is. We don't know how Anya is because they don't care about her.) But I forgot to mention how Curly romantizes Anya (not in a possible romantic interest), again, as this helpless thing that made the impulsive decision of taking a gun. Like a child who yells at an injustice that's not that deep or is being reprimanded justly.

And Jimmy objectifies her. And one could argue that it's the same thing, that both don't see her truly as a person, rather as a reflection of their own ideals and state of mind, she is the road that they use to guide their own view of the world, and women, but the difference is that, not only Jimmy has no guilt for what he's done to her, rather, he feels entitled to do what he wants with her. And maybe this is waaaay too obvious for a lot of people, but still it has been in my mind for a day, that the way he objectifies her is through envy and disgust. Jimmy doesn't like Anya, since he antagonizes her and doesn't take seriously her job as a nurse, she is this ugly thing that he can use and abuse. Since she is not a person, it doesn't matter what he does, right? Since she is just a faceless woman, among the hundreds of other women that are in the world, why should anyone care about her specifically? He is, probably unconsciously, aware of the fact that in the corporate structure that is Pony Express, they don't matter at all. They wake up, oil the machine and hope to get a smidge of money that's not going to last. So, if he doesn't matter, she doesn't matter as well.

I guess it also has to correlate with his envy towards Curly and his reluctant ascension, because Curly doesn't want to be where he is, but Jimmy does due to the empty promises that capitalism gives us as a whole. Steady job, good money, and all that. But again, he is aware that he's just the co pilot, and he's there because of Curly, not because they chose him. Rather, Curly is not totally faceless. But Anya is, and if he doesn't matter, nobody else does. Not Daisuke, not Swansea, not Anya. In the game it is stated (through Jimmy's actions) that he doesn't listen to anyone on the fucking ship. He ignores Swansea's warnings about the vent, Anya's concern about the sugar in the mouthwash that's basically useless, and Daisuke's personality overall.

They are all meaningless and stupid, and they are all in the middle of space. What's one nurse when there are thousands more? What's one little abuse of power when she is just another name in the system, because there's a lot of other Anyas. Meaning that she doesn't need any respect or any space in his head. Truly reflecting how capitalism marginalizes and encourages rape culture as well as turning a blind eye towards abuse of power. If the cargo shipment arrives, which is something so fucking ridiculous as is mouthwash, then what does it matter if somebody used a gun, or if someone was hurt? It doesn't matter. They don't matter. Nobody will look for them if no one asks. Abandoned in space, lost names and faceless beings. Their names bellow somebody else's. What's one more fired employee? Just another little cog to replace, there are thousands of people pushing each other off the ladder. So why would anyone mourn a Daisuke? Or an Anya? or a Swansea?

Anyways yeah, I just wanted to add more about Anya, because I truly do love her. She is unknown, since nobody even spared a thought for her. Her only conscious decision was to end her life, because she herself knew that in the end, nobody would care. Nobody cared in the first place, why would they do it now? What would they do? She knew that Jimmy would kill her or threaten her given that she was pregnant and that Curly would placate her, promising things that he won't do, while covering it up. She was right, always right. But she doesn't matter in the big picture. As long as she doesn't ruin it with her dullness, why would anybody listen to her?

And if they could see the dead pixel among the grainy moonlight, they would just try to erase it or lighten it up, forcing it to be a part of the bigger picture. Because your individuality doesn't matter, when you are just another one of the others that come before you and after you, who won't hesitate to take your place. It doesn't matter who you are, because everyone knows that once you enter the mouth of the beast, you are just another piece of flesh. Nobody cares about the animal that's killed, they just care about the meat they're going to put in their mouths. You don't matter when you are an amalgamation of other fish. Because there is a last day. And then another, and another, until you drop dead.

[i-love-my-dorks-and-simps]

addressing my abandoned wg comic for my wg followers:

(ty @cargoshortsenjoyer for the suggestion!)

it will likely never be completed so as a result ill be sharing the basic ideas i had planned out for it below:

it was a highschool au staring becky/wg and tobey as being in a relationship (where tobey doesnt know becky is wordgirl)

important context for this au:

after some time of their elementary shenanigans, in middle school, tobey quits being a supervillain due to his aspirations of having a normal life. he's tired of pining over someone he knows will never reciprocate, and even more so of working so hard on his inventions that go unnoticed by everyone, especially his mother. (mommy issues alert)

after tobey's disappearance from villainy, becky/wg gets concerned for his wellbeing and check up on him (as becky). after seeing hes decided to change his ways for once (given its been years since wg originally takes place) she gives him a chance at friendship from which their rivalry turns into a sweet yet playfully competitive relationship with one another by the time theyre in highschool.

au starts:

the two are roughly in junior/senior year (undecided) nearing the end of highschool by the time the au takes place as tobey sees how the stress of school has taken a toll on becky. they have a conversation about it with tobey doing his best to comfort her when she mentions how much the supervillain population in fair city has been affecting her. being a former villain himself this sparks tobeys interest and he starts to pay more attention to his surroundings.

thats when he realizes the sheer amount of villains that had come since he quit. given they only have 2.5 heroes pulling the work of a city practically run by villains, tobey notices the imbalance there is. he finds it unjust that this has to be the state becky goes through everyday. he knows how important justice is to her (she also wants to be a district attorney like her mother) and decides to take things into his own hands

he takes out his robots for the first time in years, (only bigger and better than the ones he made when he was 10 (he's had more time to hone his skills in private)) and begins to "apprehend" supervillains in town, which prompts wordgirl to swoop into his robot warehouse to see whats been going on. (where else would he store those things? his backyard?)

from here tobey tells wg all about how hes being a hero now and creating less trouble or innocent citizens out there when she tell his that this is not the world becky (herself) would have wanted at all. shes not happy to see him like this again knowing the progress hes made and she doesnt want to fight him again after all this time.

events after the existing two parts i posted:

from there on tobey enlists the help of other 'retired' supervillains to achieve his goal of making fair city a better place (for becky). the story continues on as becky/wg urge him to stop and think about what hes been doing which he stubbornly disagrees with her, putting strain on their relationship.

throughout this tobey starts to adopt a savior complex and truly thinks its his duty to cleanse the world of villainy. everyone in fair city is too dense to realize what him and becky do. the fact that just jailing the villains alone wont stop them from crime. there needs to be an end. and he's going to be the one to do it. (adding onto this, tobey will eventually start to target regular criminals without superpowers after he gets rid of the supervillains through his mandated death penalty of those with unnatural abilities. at some point he will begin to view wg as a threat despite being a hero because she stands in his view of whats just. wg tries to save as many villains as she can and tobey is on her trail. at this point its likely rose may hold a part in his investigation, wanting to get closer to the action to get a better scoop.)

the fate of this au is undecided from here on (though there would be a ton of character moments unmentioned here to keep it from getting too long. i would love to touch on how tobecky is holding up throughout this alongside other characters reacting to the scenario (ex. family, friends, villains))

[ask-codeearasure]

Been thinking about #3 a lot, since we got a lot on Stages 1 and 2 and 4 is intentionally shrouded in mystery.

Stage 3 was first introduced to me as a mindset who will try to kill all it can in sight. It presents as somewhat of a mix between Stages 1 and 2, at least on the outside, and was constantly plagued by the hallucinated faces of all the loved ones it killed before but couldn't recognize any of them. Stage 3 is a triggered stress and defensive response to grief and trauma. This was what I thought I knew about this creature for about 5 years until you showed up. And this information might still be viable to Killer, it's just that's not all what Stage 3 is.

Based on yours and your mutuals' headcanons, Stage 3 is also animalistic in behavior outside of battle and killing. It doesn't think in any way the usual sapient person would and is driven by fear and instinct. It has thoughts of its own outside of this, but isn't given credit for those thoughts by most other characters because of its behavior, and yet it is capable of speech if in the right mindset or if demanded to by Nightmare.

I think as the collective Killer heals, Stage 3's behavior will calm, but because I think it's stupid for its animalistic tendencies to wane based on that premise, I think those behaviors will persist. The only difference is it will have an easier time talking, and as the amnesia barriers between the Stages lessen, shards of Stage 3's behaviors and manner of thought will bleed into the other Stages.

Before healing, Killer as a whole loves loves LOVES animals and he can get along with, tame, and train them with little to no issues. Stage 3's knowledge and behaviors would be part of all the reasons why this improves as well, along with some bleeding insight from Stage 2 in the ability to read people, but off body language more than suspected intentions and anxieties.

Stage 3 is also the Stage that hallucinates the most and to a concerning degree. A consistent struggle it faces is the inability to tell many differences between reality and the horrors created by its mind. And while it is next to blind (#4 beats it in Level Of BlindnesS), somehow it manages and nobody has a solid clue why that is until they get the realization that all its other senses must be heightened to make up for that blindness.

This is the case for Stage 4 as well, though on top of that I headcanon Stage 4 knows echolocation on top of morse code. That is how it communicates and that is part of how it navigates with like 1% sight.

Stage 3 would also be the type with a heightened enough sense of smell that it can tell quite easily whether a substance is drugged or if the air has toxic monoxide in it.

But again, as cool as that sounds for Stage 3, it suffers from having every kind of hallucination under the sun. These hallucinations won't only stress it into reacting violently, but also mistaking its loved ones for the horrors it wants to end and intervening with its other senses, and simply touching another person to ensure they're real like Stage 2 does isn't always going to work as they can hallucinate touch that isn't there.

To calm Stage 3 down, allies might have to come up with the weirdest code phrases to get its attention, something associated with humor and comfort as a contrast against its own mind attempting to torment it.

Stage 3 requires a lot of care not for itself, but especially for the people around it.

-- Sarco

I need more Stages content ong I need to compile everything ever in my brain

[the-travelling-witch]

Every Character i ever wanted INCLUDING “FATHER” is coming back and am sobbing i need her

luckily i have scara already and could not care less for baizhu, so letting them go isn’t painful for me; lyney and arlecchino however… that’s a completely different story…

when will hoyo bring back shenhe and furina (in that order please) so i can finally think about pulling for someone else again without bad conscience

[dykedvonte]

why do you hate Joshua Graham or Honest Hearts so much?

This DLC and character represents a bigger issue with fandom spaces I have but particularly fallout fandom in general.

Fallout tends to tackle a lot of topics controversial and not. The first two games it’s heavy cause they are the most satirical and direct with how anti-war, nationalism and etc… they are. 3 loses this as it’s very clear once you play or learn about all the games that Todd and a bunch of guys at Bethesda just liked the 50s post apocalyptic aesthetic and refuse to actually critique the ideals of the time period like the earlier titles.

New Vegas is the game that really gets back into it a degree it almost seems like it’s taking too much on. There are things done exceedingly well while other things are done horribly wrong . I’ve made posts about it before and plan to make a big series of posts (it’s a lot of writing) but my biggest gripe is with Honest Hearts and all the gross and white savior esque depictions it has of indigenous peoples. The entirety if FNV does not do the injustices faced by indigenous people correctly on any count. My two biggest complaints are with the Khans and the tribes in Zion but I’ll talk about the former on a different post.

Both characters of Daniel and Joshua are the most accurate depiction of white saviors I’ve seen and I hate how the DLC tries to justify and defend them. The DLC treats Joshua like this man who has repented for his past actions when he is just retracing his steps after his cruelty bit him in the ass. He was one of the worst parts of the Legion and it is all but explicitly stated that if you don’t force him to be non-violent he will turn the tribes of Zion into the legion 2.0. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are horribly infantilized by both Daniel and Joshua who both use them for self serving purposes guised by religious duty. The White Legs are the horrible stereotype of violent and savage indigenous and I personally think a lot of their interlinking with Ulysses, his hair and Ulysses character in general are distasteful and very telling of how BIPOC or POC where involved.

But outside of the game it’s the weird obsession people have with these characters ideologies and trying to make them seem more interesting/philosophical than they are. Tumblr is an echo chamber and many fans of Fallout are not the people on this site. Many people are not educated in the issues these characters convey and how poorly they do or used these characters as a poor introduction for their takes. Contrary to what a lot of people believe in, fallout has a prediomeny white cis male fanbase. More importantly a large portion of the fanbase is white.

You can joke how FNV made you trans or see the numbers on post/fics or diverse headcanons but these are kiddy numbers compared to the millions that consume the franchise and aren’t in those more aware spaces or don’t engage in the spaces the same way someone like me does/has to. Their views shape a lot more than people realize and it’s exhausting to be in a space where people don’t correct the more subtle yet toxic aspects of it but also adopt them into some weird quirky view point on the characters or issues. Some people don’t realize and some people don’t care.

My main issue is just the idolizing of these sort of thing in this fandom space and people try to acts like a game like fallout whose tagline is “War never changes” and has never had a game not revolve around political or militaristic factions issues isn’t that deep or doesn’t relate to real issues. I think it’s mainly caused by how over powered you can become and how you can strong arm your way past these learning moments as majority of people who play this game do play it as a power fantasy where they can do so as they please (which of course, go ahead it’s fun) but never take in parallels or lessons in the story as if it was just another first person shooter.

Also like another personal gripe is Cazadores spawn like hell whenever I’m there and I have not found a mod that works to mod them out so I have to play Indigenous Racism the DLC while getting jumped by giant wasps WHILE helping Mormons. Like I cannot catch a break.

[arolesbianism]

Finallly got around to properly designing Demonstrator! She’s silly

[stairset]

Maybe it's just because of where I live, but the whole "Satine didn't like that her people were a bunch of warmongering imperialist assholes and told them to knock it off and implemented gun control and made the Jedi Torture Boxes illegal so that her people could rebuild and move on from their violent history of civil wars that reduced their planet into a nearly uninhabitable wasteland in favor of focusing on more productive things like art and education and this is literally cultural genocide and she's erasing history and she should've been a villain blah blah blah" take has always been so weird to me. Like I have absolutely seen people say things like that in real life all the time and about 90% of them have confederate flags on the back of their pickup trucks so. Yeah.

[marypsue]

not to be a horrible shipper all over your plotfic but what would the ships look like in your ageswap au?

The sample I posted does rather invite the question!

I should put out there, as a general rule, I'm not all that interested in Mike/Will and I don't have plans to write it anywhere. I don't really vibe with it, generally, and I believe I've mentioned previously (but maybe only in tags) that I really hate the way the Duffers conceived of and have been handling the possibility that Will might be gay. And many of the ways parts of the fandom have acted in response. I get that it's important to some people, and I don't want to rain on anybody's parade, but I've seen so much bad behaviour from the showrunners all the way down that it's pretty firmly put me off.

With that said, though. This fic was undertaken before I'd had much exposure to the fandom, and also, the roleswap plays...well, a role. I'm a sucker for a good triad relationship, especially the Monster Hunting Trio, and in this version of things, that's Mike and El and Will. So this is probably the only time you're ever going to see me writing reciprocated romantic feelings between Mike and Will. It's just that El is also there. And the entire context of their previous relationships with each other has changed. It feels different. I don't know. I'm operating on vibes, here.

Also because of the roleswap, this is one of those rare places where I'm not mashing Steve and Nancy and Jonathan's faces all together. Nancy and Jonathan are the Hopper and Joyce of this fic, and Steve is the Karen Wheeler. He'll be fine in his loveless marriage while the other two are off having fantastic post-saving-the-world sex. Maybe he'll have an ill-advised affair in the future. Who can say.

(Also Nancy and Barb had a brief on-again-off-again fling post-Nancy's-divorce, which has been over for some time as of the action taking place. Long enough for Barb to find a more stable relationship with the other local lesbian...)

I'm pretty sure that's it, as far as romance goes. Apart from the teen squad, it's pretty secondary to the plot in season 1, and I'm sticking with that. (Also, I need lots of time and space to fully mine the hilarity of Steve being Mike's literal actual father.)