#so after i managed to connect with them i was like ????

[stellar-solar-flare]

I’m so glad to finally be back to this story! The end of the year 2024 was a rotten cherry on top of a trash fire cake which was a drain on my energy. But I definitely haven’t forgotten about this one – especially since I have been super amazed at how quickly you’ve been able to write this story and publish it. You’re awesome! I’ve seen some light spoilers to this on my dash from people’s comments so I know it’s going to be a ride and I’m here for it!

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

Oh, interesting. So we’re seeing subtle hints that she’s a Steve girl right off the bat – but then again, like when we see her think about her friendship with Pepper, it’s clear that she’s not just starstruck or someone easily swooned by celebrity status. Are we harboring perhaps a little crush here?

Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

I always say in comments that I enjoy it when we see the little things that make the Reader similar to Steve, or qualities that I know Steve will find attractive, and I feel like working in a non-profit is definitely one of those. Doing her best to make a better world.

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in.

I don’t read a lot of post-Endgame fics / fics that deal with the Blip one way or the other, but when I do read them, I immensely enjoy writers working with all the things that the Blip would cause, and I think we’ll see a layered, deep approach on it from you in this fic! I’m definitely curious.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Oh it’s lovely to see that Peter is still around the Stark Foundation even with Tony gone, and hehehe, the little reveal of his identity. I love how competent we see Pepper be here, how she’s been so good at putting this team together.

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

I love how you wrote her shock here; it makes sense that her first reaction to this would be anger – she would feel like she’d be just a trophy wife when she’s been hoping for a big role. And while I’m certain she’ll have just that big role, it makes sense that initially a marriage of state, essentially, would sound insane in modern-day America.

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

But I really like this point. It feels very Steve – I adored all the glimpses we saw into his plans through her thoughts, as well as her note about not even being able to sleep – to create a world like this and especially lead by example.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

I really really love this, in addition to the way we see Pepper go through the strategic side of this, the polls and expectations and all this. This feels like something that Steve would agree to, in the end. After all, he is from a world where marriage wasn’t so focused on romantic love. But since he is a romantic, I’m definitely looking forward to them falling in love.

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

Hehe, more of the little things that show they’re similar.

And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

I love her your honor. I always enjoy Readers that are shown to be competent and not afraid of going after what they want. Also this is a very Steve thing again.

You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

Oh, I’m intrigued by this. Is she a widow too?

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

Oh, I wonder what came up for Steve to skip this. But aww, I hope she and Sam end up being friends, as I can definitely see that happening.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

Oh, yeah, that makes sense. It’d be very beneficial for him, and I enjoyed seeing that Reader understands. And yay, we’ll be seeing more Sam in the fic!

“I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Oh, you and me both, Sam. I really really like this Reader. I’ll nickname her the First Lady for comment purposes, since that’s easier for me. I hope you don’t mind!

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

Oh, Aspen, you’re coming straight for my heart with this. This isn’t even a thirst trap, it’s a heart trap, and that’s worse. I love how serious we see Steve be about this from the beginning, and I really like how reassuring Sam is here too.

"But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

Also this tracks, and I wonder if this is a part of Steve’s mindset too.

"Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

This makes complete sense, and I am HERE for the pining and the slow burn that’ll follow from this. It’s very compassionate of Sam to warn her about this so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about Steve’s behavior, if he’s going to be a little distant. And also this has the delightful found family vibes – which are definitely highlighting some major loss in First Lady’s background, I mean, she has to have a hint of craziness and not a lot to lose to jump into this headfirst – that I always enjoy in fic.

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

I’m definitely looking forward to all this characterization; from the (shamefully few) works that I’ve read from you so far, I know you write Steve in a very human way. And this is definitely hinting towards how he’s not just the perfect soldier or the good man but human and I am always here here for it. And we love Sam for recognizing all this in his friend.

Also as a more general note, I enjoyed Reader having these little doubts about the marriage side of it working – there is definitely hint here that while she’s not waiting to be swept off her feet, she’s certainly not going for a simple marriage of convenience. I always enjoy fics that show that wanting love and to be loved aren’t mutually exclusive with things like strength or independence.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

I love this for her. And for Steve. That she goes into the whole marriage knowing not only Cap but also Steve Rogers. I am VERY excited for the wedding, and not just because I love weddings. I know it's the delicious sort of slow burn when they don't even lay an eye on each other in the first two chapters.

I’m so glad to be back at this and I’m so looking forward to diving into the next chapter! Sorry if I got a little rambly or overexcited but I had so many thoughts. I hope you're well and the muse is behaving!

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

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

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

↠ 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!

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

[freezebobs]

DBFZ Yamcha and Ten cookies...done!!!

Soo I've been on a mission to recreate the Yamcha and Ten cookies from dragon ball fighterz because they're adorable...and they're finally real!! :'D process and info below! (kind of long lol)

I saw someone share these screencaps from the game a while ago and as someone who never played DBFZ I was so charmed at how cute these things are. I wondered if anyone had ever made cookie cutters for them, did a quick search and didn't really find anything, so just kind of moved on.

A few months later I remembered them again and was like, man, I really would love to see these brought to life lol. And I searched again and actually found someone who made them!!... But they weren't selling them anymore. 😭💔

^Reddit post from user ShadowLord898.

So in the next few days I went into the DBFZ game files, figured out how to navigate them and locate/open the proprietary file types (took...a lot of googling), and eventually found the cookie textures!!! Which I then painstakingly traced over to create vectors.

I thought once I had the vectors, it would be easy to drop them into a 3D program and extrude them to make the cookie cutters. BOY WAS I WRONG!!! It's probably just my inexperience working with vectors in 3D programs, but I tried Blender, Fusion 360, and Tinkercad and had problems in each one before finally figuring out the right approach. (I really almost gave up 🤧 but I hadn't realized that your geometry/topology don't need to be perfect when 3D modeling for print as opposed to, like, something you plan to create a texture for.)

Tinkercad and its extremely user friendly interface, plus SVG import functionality, saved me.

Oh then I realized I forgot to reverse the design, which you have to do for a cookie cutter because of how they work. I thought I would need to flip all the vectors and re-import them, recreate the models... but thankfully there's a "flip" button in Tinkercad. Fixed.

I sent the files over to my friend @.theprocrastinatingengineer on Instagram, who has a 3D printing service, and he was able to print them out for me!

While I was waiting for them to ship I downloaded Cura ("slicer" program for preparing 3D files for print) just for fun. (I was really eager...)

And here's when I finally got them!!!

Despite choosing all the dimensions carefully, I was still surprised how dainty they were when I actually held them in my hand. I wasn't sure if they would work...

So I made the dough and everything, used some 5mm thick chopsticks as guides to roll out the dough to the thickness I wanted. I put plastic wrap over the dough to prevent the cutters from directly touching the dough due to food safety concerns. Here is my first attempt to use them:

After this my mindset quickly shifted from caring about food safety to "what's a little more plastic in my system?" / "I'm here for a good time, not a long time!!" / "welll the dough gets baked anyway so that kills the germs it should be fiiine" **I Do Not recommend others to be so careless... also important note: I was the only one eating these so I didn't have to worry about others' safety 🥴

^The difference between using the cutters with and without the plastic wrap.

This first rolling out of the dough was actually a little too thick; in my design I hadn't accounted for the way the dough squishes up when you press the cutter into it. There wasn't enough vertical space at all, and the dough kept getting stuck in the cutter. It was a bad time!!! (didn't get a lot of photos of the failures here because my hands were covered in flour)

After lots of broken cookie cutouts, re-flouring the surface/cutters/rolling pin, and re-rolling the dough to be a bit thinner, I managed to get these out. I had to support Ten's head like a newborn when moving the dough onto the cookie sheet because the connection to the body was so delicate 😢

AND HERE THEY ARE...fully baked and ready 🥹

For the most part I was going to leave them undecorated like how they are in the game. But @.lamichicuenta made this really cute drawing of the cookies where Yamcha had chocolate decorations and Ten was a salty cracker, and I really wanted to try decorating some to resemble those!! Here are the photos of both versions of the cookies the next day once I was able to get some natural light for nicer pics.

(I meant to poke some holes in Ten's cookie to look more like a cracker but I forgot about it until they were already baking.)

They tasted fine...yamcha was better thanks to the chocolate. 🤭

If you read all this, thank you for following my cookie cutter journey... 😌🙏💖

Oh yeah and I made the vectors, 3D print files, and specs/info all available in a google drive folder here for anyone to use if they want! https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1hQ7uq3leYPK64pGgt3LhFw-70IZnkYzh?usp=drive_link

OH and one last thing, i ended up revising the 3D models to hopefully fix the issue of not enough vertical space. ...turns out I hit the maximum for photos and videos in this post, but you can see it on my twitter here! https://twitter.com/freezebobs/status/1875720926840680678

I didn't get to try these revised models, but they are the ones I put in the drive folder. 😊👍

[wandixx]

"There is only so much you can for the dead" part 2

continuation to this, I should probably make an original title at some point

trigger warnings: graphic describtion of Danny's death

Moments of blissed, deadly stillness felt unfairly short. It was less than blink of an eye, less than a drop of darkness after he asked Team for the last time to leave and before he woke up, in exactly same state that he was when portal spat him out. He could barely perceive his limbs, and what he could, was consumed by agonising pain.

Fuck, he hated Death Days. Absolutely horrible experience.

His nerves were on fire, electricity dancing and burning across them. His veins and lungs and nostrils and ears and stomach and eyes and mouth and every little crevice of his body was filled with ectoplasm, like liquid fire and evaporated ice, drowning him at every attempted breath. He was crushed by an unimaginable weight, at the same time as his body exploded. He was just coherent enough to feel his bones breaking, cells bursting, his very molecules being rearranged and destroyed and rebuilt but not coherent enough to tell if his scream was anything louder than a whimper.

He was in the middle of the crowd that screamed louder than he could handle, as if every person who ever got to Ghost Zone used this exact moment to let out all of their anguish, hands dragging and pulling and squeezing and brushing at every inch of his skin. He was alone like no one was ever before, in silence that was deafening. He could be stomped to death any second without anyone turning his head, and so separate from everything that he could be only existing being.

He couldn’t help but wait for Death, merciless and brutal, whose twisted children invaded his bed time stories since he could understood words, whose corrupted children he was taught to hate. She was hideous and horrifying, but against everything, she was familiar and he wanted, needed, to see one intimate face in the situation that was so wrong, wrong, wrong. He waited for her to rip his last breath away so everything would stop.

If he had a scrap of himself that could feel worse, it’d cry when he felt her getting away from him, slipping between the fingers that were both tense and limp, impossible to control but possible to feel, broken and twitching. She was getting away but pain wasn’t lessening, maybe even getting worse, to the point where it was only thing that filled his brain.

And then it all stopped. No pain, not even any left over typical to how injuries worked, just a moment of weird pressure against his palm (just like the button), that soon stopped too.

He was in his human form, but in the hazmat he wore just before the accident. Something was wrong about it all. Something in his body made it feel like not his. Something in his chest was too light and too quiet and some intrusive thought made him want to claw on his rib cage until he ripped it open and realized what was missing.

Breathing seemed to easy, enough that he got lightheaded. It got a lot harder when he realized.

He couldn’t feel his core.

Before he managed to come to terms with that, there was a gentle pressure on his hand again.

And the pain returned.

*-*-*

Danny didn't wake up abruptly, with a choked scream and phantom burns. He also didn't wake up slowly, not in the nice, relaxed way at least, when the line between dream and reality is blurred beyond recognition. He woke up in pain, feeling like he wasn't even sleeping before, just… somewhere else while his body was destroying itself again for what felt like decades.

It took some effort to connect with his body after he woke up. To be able to move even a finger. Even longer, to open his eyes. Actual ages to sit up without urge to scream.

After seeing the absolute wreckage of the room, he kinda wished it took him longer. It looked like a warzone. Electrical burns on the walls and ceiling, random puddles of bubbling ectoplasm eating away anything they touched like an acid, and what little stuff there was before, was almost all broken beyond recognition, either by whatever force was doing its thing during his death day show or ecto. When he looked at it a bit more, it seemed to go in spiral around him.

It was kinda sad that the cookies went to waste like that. He was curious who brought them in though.

Thank fucking Ancients that Team listened to him and nobody was there when the whole mess was going down. They would probably join him on the other side of the veil otherwise.

He saw it all only because of his ghost enhanced in dark vision (thank Ancients he stayed in the ghost form) because apparently his Death Day shorted out both main electrical circuit and the emergency one. Thankfully, according to his ears, it only reached this and rooms next to him, instead of the whole Mountain.

Fuck. He really hoped Robin gave him some sort of back-up back-up room because otherwise he was dead. Or well, dead-er.

He rolled out of the bed, barely catching himself from smacking on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Though some would argue he didn’t catch himself if only his face didn’t fall to the floor like the sack of potatoes.

Only then he caught sight of big, ecto-green circle that embed itself into the wall right over the bed. It had familiar vibes. Really familiar…

He had to tell the Team about it yesterday.

*-*-*

M'gann was sitting on the needles, just like everyone else. Sure, Phantom asked them to forget about him and essentially ignore whatever was happening to him, but there was no way they'd actually be able to do it. Case in point, first time alarms about shorting out of the electrical circuit in the room. They run there so fast that they had door open to see what was wrong before the absolute onslaught of electricity and ectoplasm and something else turned off the alarms thirty seconds later. Truth be told, they couldn’t do much, not without risking becoming second ghostly member of the Team, they’ve been there and ready. Conner tried to come in anyway, with his invulnerability and such, but they had to drag him out when despite extensive dodging he got hit five times by the time he got two steps into the room. Also, there wasn’t really anything he could do to help.

So they just spent last almost twenty hours alternating between different things to keep themselves occupied enough to not fall asleep and distract themselves from quilt but not enough to not be able to drop it at the moments notice if it was needed. First plan was to nap in shifts if it was necessary but it quickly became apparent that sleep was impossible with how worried everyone was and when M'gann proposed to just shut down their brains with her powers, everyone got really defensive. Well, no was no. So they just sat, at the moment in awkward silence because every topic that wasn't Phantom felt too inane and every topic that was Phantom felt too… just no. No name for why, just no.

M'gann was about to get up to make another batch of peanut butter and oatmeal snacks that took few minutes to make and could be dropped at any second, when Conner practically jumped in his seat, tilting his head to hear better. Robin perked up from whatever he was doing on his wrist computer at the same time.

"Phantom left the room!” they exclaimed at the same time, jumping out of their seats.

This head start didn’t matter by the time everyone ran or flew out to the corridor, racing against clock to the room where they left Phantom. It didn’t seems so before, but now M’gann just cursed their past selves for not waiting somewhere closer. There wasn’t really any place where they could stay instead, unless they set camp right outside his door, but it still. They should be there five minutes ago, like Wally, who obviously run off.

They heard Wally speaking before they’ve seen him.

“Hey, hey calm down. It’s fine, they’ll be there in a second, just chill. They’re right after me, whatever happened, we’ll help you in just a moment, you don’t have to run. You’re barely standing. Phantom, calm down”

M’gann barely made it around the corner and she thought she had seen Kaldur actually smacking into the wall. He brushed it off.

Phantom looked beyond rough. It seemed like Wally, who had ghost’s arm across his shoulders, was only thing holding him up. His feet were firmly on the ground, not in his usual way, when he looked just a breeze away from flying, but in this fully human way, which was unsettling. His face was gray instead of his usual almost tan, eyes wide and terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking at anyone in particular “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

“Phantom, it’s fine. It’s fine, we know about the room, it’s fine,” Robin said, trying to placate him. It didn’t quite work. Ghost was on the verge of hyperventilating, which was a bit weird to see on someone for who breathing was voluntary.

“It’s not about room”

“I’m sure it’s fine anyway”

“It’s anything but. I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and tell us what happened if you’re so sure we will be pissed”

“Artemis!”

“Portal”

“What about it?”

“Portal is what killed me.”

M’gann didn’t like how the whole situation looked before, but it suddenly became much worse.

“My Death Day made another one”

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fall??

Did you mean "fail?" Unless you meant literally falling, I will answer as if you wrote "fail." You can correct me if that is the wrong interpretation, and I could answer the question again.

Assign first-class experts to solve the world's problems... so I wouldn't have to do it all—assuming the technicality is that I start the projects, then they probably would not fail. Would that loophole work? (Realistically, if it didn't work, I don't think I'd actually be altruistic enough to do all that...) Would I have to see the projects through to completion? That's quite a lot of work. But doing this would likely mean I will probably have a clean conscience for the rest of my life, ideally, because, I know I should if I had the power to do so.

In relation to #1, even if this is non-necessary, also assign people to figure out if there's life on other planets. I just want to know. Don't need to contact whatever is out there—I don't want anything to go wrong. I'd just want to possibly spy on them for a little while. The problem is: spying is unethical, so I'd have to convince myself that I'm either doing it for cautionary reasons or as a longitudinal, naturalistic "study." This could be a pandora's jar, so I might take it off the list.

Cure stupidity and herd mentality. (Curing all physical ailments is built into no. 1 already.) Or better yet, get someone else to do it. (At the same time, we could argue that these qualities are part of being human or flawed, and that we shouldn't tamper with our human-ness. In which case, just no. Also, we would lose part of our former connection to literature, pre-cure. For instance, we would no longer comprehend the meaning of the trope: "love causes poor judgment." So, would it be worth it? Even if the world were terraformed and otherwise reshaped in more metaphorical ways to be "perfect," I think we would still manage to invent new problems because it's what we've always done as a species. Thus, there needs to be a reasonable stopping point. And, I'm not sure what that point is, meaning several other items on this list might have to be struck out.)

Have the world's politicians be... better somehow? Ensure they are sane and moral, that they trust science, are scientifically-literate... I feel, perhaps, like we might get better results if we chose science-fiction writers, particularly those who've managed to predict our present and know how to do social commentary. They seem to be aware of and actually care about the state of humanity. (I'm not really well-informed enough to make any decisions, but I know well enough that the world needs people of varied knowledge and skillsets to continue on. So, I'm not completely, intentionally trying to valorize only what I'm interested in. I'm just biased like any other human being is.)

Delegate everything I don't like doing to competent people (like cooking), and reap the benefits of the exact outcomes I'd want every time. If they were successful, I'd never have a problem with dust and no one would ever move my stacks of books and paper, which often collect dust.

Turn myself immortal and gain eternal youth. (This should probably be item no. 1 on the list, actually, to account for how long the first few tasks could potentially take.) Then use those means on others who would want it done. If it's someone I don't like, I could still let them become immortal, and would just tell them after this favor not to cross paths with me again. I would also try to convince anyone I want to keep around to stay.

No. 6 would attract too much publicity. I'd need a way to continue being relatively anonymous, except for what I would selectively want to be recognized for. (If I couldn't fail at it, I'd love to become the next "Shakespeare" or some kind of literary giant... and maybe then have the world forget about me... and be rediscovered and reinterpreted by future generations who use my original and/or revolutionary works as required reading in their syllabi. That'd be striking and cool. I'm not sure how I would stop suffering from belatedness though.)

Find a way to never sleep, never eat, never exercise, and not experience cognitive decline. I would only do the ones I like doing.

Find a way to resurrect people from the dead. (I already know this has too much margin for catastrophe, so there would have to be restrictions on what can and cannot be done. At the same time, I am also aware this would violate nature, so it might have to be removed from the list. Who am I to decree the rules?)

I haven't addressed religion yet. I'd have to find some way to alleviate my guilt, but that's more of a temporary fix and not a real solution. I'd have to find some way to remain a mostly good or at least harmless person, assuming I'm mostly one now. If there's no reason for anyone, any force, or anything to object to my existence, I would hope I would be allowed to continue on with my plans.

If there were some way to affirm what I think my personal beliefs are, that would be great. At the same time, that defeats the point of faith, and so, I'm not sure what to do about this dilemma.

Learn everything I want to learn now that I have infinite time to learn it (and infinite time to procrastinate).

Consume all the media I want to consume and also never miss new installments or works of art because I wouldn't be outlived by creators.

Become some kind of successful writer. I mentioned this before, but to specify: maybe a novelist or maybe an academic critic—why not both?! Sky's the limit!

Eventually, if I could never fail, I might wonder about whether anything could ever be a challenge or worth doing anymore. (Doubt that will happen since I have a fear of failure anyway—and being cured of it would be a wonderful reality to live in!)

And so, I could want to die eventually. (Again, highly doubt that will happen.)

In case: It's not my top priority, but: study philosophy, so I don't become corrupt, apathetic, or suicidal since I know things can happen to the human psyche after too long.

If no. 1 didn't happen, and humans were faced with climate change as well as other problems, then I would want to die before the planet were barren and ruined, so I wouldn't have to live under dystopian conditions.

Some of the above might not happen because I may procrastinate too much. That would suggest that the revised item no. 1 should be: conquer procrastination once and for all, and only then proceed in a rough order.

[sheigarche]

girl shut up

I'm going to assume this is about Life is Strange because that's what I've been talking about the most in the last 2 months and I don't think any of my other fandoms would be bother by my posts.

So here are some hot take ideas for LIS posts I've never made because I thought it might upset some fans, but maybe I shouldn't be so quiet about it after all.

Pricefield vs DE

It seems like everything in Double Exposure was deliberately written to justify Chloe breaking up with Max.

Chloe showed that she was paranoid that Max may be using her powers to manipulate the relationship to make it work and that's exactly what Max did to Amanda and got call out for it in the end.

She also expressed how Max is unable to let go of the past and is haunt by it. So most of the game we see Max (and the player) holding on to it and struggling to move on until the very end. Some fans still can't do it and doesn't want Max to do it, but that's exactly why Chloe left.

Many people didn't realize it, but Max was struggling to establish herself as a real photographer in the years she was with Chloe, but quick became famous and recognized in the years after they broke up.

To me that's the game trying to sell the idea that they are better off without each other.

Chaseprice

Victoria and Chloe's posts in DE don't show anything explicitly romantic, it could just be friendship, but the intention to make it look like something more is pretty clear to me.

The writers chose sentences like "can you handle it, Chase?" and "I'll buy you a beer" on purpose and know exactly what the players will think of it.

Besides Victoria shows a desire in going from wherever she lives to see Chloe, and then Chloe makes plans to do a little detour to go see Victoria. Whatever this relationship is, they're making it work long distance with effort on both sides. Mutual interest.

I wouldn't be surprised if in the sequel we see one post or two subtly hinting that they're actually together. A picture on Crosstalk, maybe a comment from someone else on their posts.

Hell, I can even imagine an art gallery event of some sort where Max is invited and can bring her chosen love interest and Victoria is there with Chloe as her date... And that's how the devs manage to have a natural last conversation between Max and Chloe in person to give closure to their relationship.

And I kind of expect Victoria to come to them at some point, a little jealous or just proud of her girlfriend.

Langfield

Some people keep saying that Max wouldn't be interested in Vinh... But that's wrong.

The reality is that it was the first game's choices and Max's journey is what makes them fit together so well.

Yes, okay, maybe 18-year-old Max wouldn't like this emotionally dry 28-year-old Vinh. Maybe 18-year-old Max would have liked way more to know the enthusiastic drama student 18-year-old Vinh, who dreamed of being an actor.

Now this 28-year-old Max, full of traumas and complexes knows enough about life to see through 28-year-old Vinh's walls and realize that he is not dry, but afloat and barely keeping himself together. That's why she can really connect with him, as a friend or more.

It was the traumas and secrets that made her interesting to Vinh, just like his traumas and regrets are what make Max interested in him.

They fit together because they share some similar emotional experiences and they know how the other might be feeling in certain situations. And when they are together, they can laugh about it, have fun and be themselves, even if just for a moment.

Amberprice

Honestly I left this fandom years ago without shipping Pricefield or Amberprice, because of some reservations about Chloe's character. But now I'm back because of DE and I decided to finish Before the Storm... I can't get Rachel out of my head!

Seriously, what's this magic in their scenes and why can't I stop watching them on loop?

I always thought I had a crush on Max, but I actually have a crush on Rachel Amber of all characters. Maybe I am Chloe Price all along 😂

You know a ship is good when it changes your perception of the characters.

[amy-rose-warrior]

These magic rocks have OPINIONS!!!!!

Master Emerald:

Chaos Emeralds:

I used this template! I had to manually add Trip, Dark Gaia, and Pachacamac, though.

Master Emerald notes:

The vastness of the love the Master Emerald has for Knuckles is lovecraftian in the way that it is incomprehensible to mortals and even gods. The real reason Knuckles wasn't in Unleashed is because Dark Gaia has been sharing a planet with the Master Emerald long enough to know not to fuck with that.

Originally, Rouge was nearly on par with Eggman and Pachacamac for the Master Emerald. Over time, the Master Emerald has grown to find her deeply amusing, even if it is often equally exasperated with her.

When it comes to Sonic, Amy, Tails, and Rouge, while the Master Emerald loves and respects them as individuals (it is particularly fond of Sonic), a lot of the positive feelings it harbours towards them stems from their relationship with Knuckles. It wants to set them up on playdates with him.

Tikal's feelings have rubbed off on the Master Emerald when it comes to Metal Sonic. You don't have to do this. I hope one day you realize that.

Chaos Emerald Notes:

Sonic the blorbo from their shows their funny dog their best friend they freak the fuck out whenever they see him YAHOO!!!!!!!!!!!! They have what the Master Emerald has for Knuckles for Sonic except it's parasocial as hell. Sort of. The Chaos Emeralds are very flighty but they have the deepest connection with Sonic, they just don't always know what to do with it do to their innate nature. Sonic is special enough to them that it may just change something fundamental about their existence.

Trip is their second favorite after Sonic, they just don't get to hang out as much.

Generally the Chaos Emeralds love people who try to destroy the world (or just generally cause problems like Eggman), it means they get to hang out with Sonic and have some fun. There are some exceptions like Dark Gaia, Infinite, and Perfect Chaos who they despise.

The Chaos Emeralds hate other magic rocks, especially the Master Emerald. They also get super jealous. They adore Blaze and want her to play with them instead of those icky Sol Emeralds.

On the jealousy thing, the Chaos Emeralds hate all of Sonic's friends. They humor them for Sonic. Knuckles is their biggest point of contention, but Tails is a close second. Emerl got the worst of it when he was alive, what do you mean you're just going to leave us with this guy we want torn to shreds. Part of the reason Sonic managed to beat Emerl in the end (besides being Sonic) is because the Chaos Emeralds wanted this infant dead and in the ground.

Silver keeps messing up perfectly good and fun timeliness. The Chaos Emeralds don't really comprehend death so they're mostly just waiting around for Sonic to swing by and have another adventure. Also every time Silver shows up the Chaos Emeralds barely get any action or their funny adventure is erased from the timeline.

[yichens]

edits i made in 2024 ✨

thanks for tagging me krish @i-got-the-feels [x] ♥ am also trying to incorporate the tumblr top ten posts into this bc i don't want to do that as it is, so thank you for tagging me into that antania @riggerbison [x] and zey @fadelsburger [x] ♥

Post your most popular and/or favorite edit/gifset for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)

tagging: @forcebook @thamepo @chezlalune @ruanbaijie @luna-lina @srnileforme @wanderlust-in-my-soul no pressure and if you've done this or something like this already, please send it my way or tag me into the post's replies! i'd love to look at everybody's creations and give them some love :')

JANUARY: morkday + holding hands [x]

the most popular and tbh my personal favorite was this morkday edit i made based on a quote that is from the damn city of bones (2007) by cassandra clare. i didn't know that back when this quote punched me in the face and made me think about it for a couple of days but i honestly laughed when i finally googled it... worked out very well tho! i love hand symbolism, especially in last twilight, and the golden colors are lovely for them ♥ i also ended up loving the last image in this set even if i first struggled with the composition.

this was my number 1 post on my tumblr top ten.

(also gotta add that it still feels insane that last twilight was still going on in 2024... it feels like it was ages ago. i barely remember most of it anymore, probably bc of the heartbreak and trauma. i'm a changed person in january 2025)

rest of the months under the cut bc i ramble!

FEBRUARY: valentine's day vice versa rewatch [x]

my best decision for last year was to rewatch both my school president and vice versa during the time before valentine's day. it healed me, held me gently, filled me with love and warmth. am happy that the set i made after that to show love, once again, for the romance show and soulmates couple of all time was both my most popular and personal fave ♥ i love how the set turned out and how the colors work in this. i will forever be thankful to vice versa for its colors and overall brilliance.

this was my number 8 post on my tumblr top ten.

MARCH: 23.5 episode 3 [x]

it's a close call between several of my 23.5 episode edits but this happens to be the most popular one during this month. i never finished 23.5 which somehow saddens me, but towards the end, i just lost interest, and so this edit series was also left unfinished. i liked the concept tho and loved playing with the colors each week!

tribute to mork methas [x]

personal favorite cannot be any other edit than this bc i put all my heart into creating it. i am still so angry about what last twilight did to mork as a character; how all his trauma and pain was pushed aside, how the story never gave him the space and time he needed, how on top of all else they managed to butcher this amazing man. i don't even want to look at him in episode 12 bc i cannot recognize mork there. he is no that person, at least not to me. mork my beloved, i wish the writers didn't hate you so much </3

(btw i have this whole explanation/essay written under this post in my drafts. it's mostly me sharing in detail the thought process behind me making this edit and going through the several elements in it. if anyone is curious, i can post it, just holler haha)

APRIL: us / thamepo pilot crossover [x] [x]

the most popular edit for this month deserves to be the edit i made for the us pilot that was revealed during gmmtv 2024 part 2. i am still very excited to see the show itself and follow their filming journey occasionally on twt. i am just soooo ready to break my heart over the tragic lesbians woven together with strings of comfort, self-discovery, and heart ache.

this was my number 2 post on my tumblr top ten.

i picked the thamepo sister set as my personal fave bc i cannot separate these two. it was fun to connect them together and switch around the dialogues we hear in these pilots bc they just worked. they had very similar vibes and both talked about somewhat forbidden love. no wonder am currently so into thamepo (i hope it stays that way, am done with all the disappointment i've experienced with shows lately).

this was my number 4 post on my tumblr top ten.

MAY: 23.5 episode 9 [x]

the most popular set of the month. not much else to comment. i love the shot of ciize in this one, she's so cute :(

puentalay k-i-s-s-i-n-g [x]

my favorite for this month! a very impulsive edit that happened solely bc this ear worm of a song (that puen would def listen to) wouldn't leave me alone. it's silly, it's fun, it's cute, it's sexy, it's passionate. it's everything i could ask for! i honestly had a ton of fun with this edit despite having to edit a bazillion (26) separate images for this. the fact that those images are mostly of puentalay kisses makes it worth it.

JUNE: we are episode 12 [x] / 11 [x]

during summer, i was deep in my we are era. i honestly loved each set i made for the series bc for the longest time, i've wanted to make sets like this. i had my struggles with some of them but they all worked out in the end! episode 12 was the most popular one and episode 11 is just my personal favorite bc i love the purple + hints of yellow/golden -combo.

JULY: we are final episode [x]

to honor this show and all its relationships, from romantic to platonic, i decided on a rainbow set. it worked super well and i am happy it was so popular ^^ i miss this whole bunch and the amazing summer we had together. (sorry about the quality of this screenshot, the set is too long to fit it on my screen hhh)

this was my number 10 post on my tumblr top ten.

morkday + pvris songs [x]

probably my favorite set i've made this year overall. my whole year was defined by pvris's music (my spotify top artist) and it felt appropriate to link it together with morkday (and puentalay). i love the layout of this set, the colors, the noise. getting into the lyrics and choosing fitting parts for each image was the best part. my favorite image in the set is the last one that i started from while creating this set. i love the background image for that so much. another one i like is the green one for anywhere but here, bc of the image itself but also bc of the song and its message.

AUGUST: we are couples [x]

due to traveling around a lot in august and being exhausted from that, i didn't create much. but i am extremely happy with this set that is both the most popular and my personal favorite! everything about this one just worked out. i feel like it really summarizes all of these couples and shows their different sides.

as a fun fact, i have to say that i never put too much thought into choosing the animals for each couple, other than picking the bird for chainpun (for obvious reasons). cat for phumpeem came through peem more than phum who is very dog coded to me. instead, dog (or wolf?) ended up with tanfang bc of tan's puppy-like nature. qtoey getting the bunny feels like a stroke of genius given to me during the making of this set bc looking at it now, it's perfect. they have that sweetness and energy in them i connect with rabbits.

SEPTEMBER: sanvee + moon phases [x]

ok i might have lied in the july part bc this might be my overall favorite edit i made in 2024. creating it was a battle tho, and i felt like screaming for the best part of the process bc nothing felt like it was working out and i had a ton of problems while figuring out the aesthetic and the typo and the texts. but it all came together better than i ever expected and i just love this set now. i was happy to see ppl liked this too, so this is the most popular edit of this month.

(oab)plawan + hurt by sleeping at last [x]

it's hard to pick a favorite for this month – despite the sanvee edit already being my obvious FavoriteTM – bc i also love my set for miss mhon (day's mother) [x] that let me went my frustration towards her and my puen x phum parallels set [x] that makes me feel wrong in the head. but i loved this love doesn't have long beans a crazy amount compared to how short and silly that show was. there's just something about oab and plawan - about sailub and pon. they dragged me deep into places with this show and this edit is my ode to that. it was fun to make in its simplicity, i love the colors in it, and pon as plawan is just too pretty (especially when he cries).

OCTOBER: pluto episode 1 [x]

considering how popular pluto has been and how desperate we all are for gls, am not surprised this set is the most popular one for this month. tbh all my pluto edits have been doing quite well in my standards. i love making these so am just happy you guys like looking at them ♥

pit babe pairs + cartomancy [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

never thought 2024 had a sudden pit babe obsession in its sleeve for me but i decided to embrace it. they've talked that the second season would start airing in april, after boys' journey s2 has ended most likely, and i am so very normal about all thi. i've fallen in love with all these boys, both the characters (more than i already was) and the actors, and this edit series only made everything worse. i haven't spent this much time researching things for an edit in a while and i just loved all the analysis i got to do. the process had its ups and downs but overall, i have to say i had a blast.

(picture chosen purely bc i vibed with this kim picture today, tho the kentakim edit might also be my favorite in the set bc the yellow is so good)

NOVEMBER: pluto episode 4 [x]

absolutely deserves to be the most popular set of this month! it's also my personal favorite out of all the edits i've made for pluto. the colors for this one just worked super well and the scenes are perfect, too. let's see how the series ends in two days, i hope i manage to find some fitting colors for the last episode, too :'D

this was my number 6 post on my tumblr top ten.

DECEMBER: yuanyi + you can love him, but you can't keep him [x]

the most popular set and also my favorite of this month, all bc i've gone down the rabbit hole with fangs of fortune. i spent an embarrassing amount of time making this set with all its details; starting from screenshotting the whole damn show and then picking the pictures for this edit from the over 400 images i got, to drawing the golden lines by myself on my drawing tablet so i got them just like i wanted. i shall be making so many more edits for this show, be warned.

this was my number 7 post on my tumblr top ten.

top 10 posts of 2024 then are:

morkday + hands (381 notes)

us pilot (295 notes)

last twilight episode 11 (285 notes)

thamepo pilot (283 notes)

jimmysea for starry magazine (271 notes)

pluto episode 4 (252 notes)

yuanyi + you can love him (231 notes)

vice versa rewatch 2024 (222 notes)

last twilight episode 10 (211 notes)

we are final episode (207 notes)

(you can check your top ten posts here)

it was fun to look back into my year in edits like this and see how i've gone through so many phases in 12 months. i cannot even recognize the person i was in around, let's say, last february. or during summer. it's insane how the night changes or however that thing goes.

thank you if you read this far, and if you've liked my creations or left nice tags under them, i thank you even more! it's an honor to be creating to everybody here and i am grateful that others keep enabling me even when i usually create for myself and maybe two other ppl. it is very important to me tho that i get to be part of this amazing community and don't need to just yell into the void by myself ♥

[imreidswifey]

Velvet Minds -S.Reid-

Famous Singer Reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: When the BAU is assigned a case involving murders linked to the music of the enigmatic singer Y/n, Dr. Spencer Reid is drawn into their world of haunting melodies and vintage allure.

Author’s Note: Hi, lovely readers! First, thank you for choosing to dive into Velvet Minds. This story contains mature themes and darker elements, so please read the warnings carefully. I tried to keep the balance between mystery, emotion, and romance, and I hope you find yourself immersed in their journey. Happy reading, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Your feedback means the world to me.

Warnings: Violence and Crime, Mental Health Themes, Mature Themes, Mystery and Suspense, Emotional Content

———————————————————————————-

The small Nevada town was unremarkable, a blur of cracked asphalt and sun-faded storefronts. The crime scene, however, was anything but. Reid stood in the center of the motel room, his keen eyes cataloging every detail.

The room was steeped in 1950s nostalgia: a rotary phone sat on the nightstand, a cigarette still smoldering in an ashtray. But the focal point was the record player. It sat in the corner, spinning Y/n’s “Midnight Motel” on repeat.

“Looks like our unsub has a theme,” Morgan remarked, gesturing to the décor.

Reid nodded but didn’t respond. His attention was consumed by the music. The melody was melancholic yet mesmerizing, the lyrics a tapestry of longing and despair.

“Y/n,” he murmured to himself.

“What was that?” JJ asked, glancing over.

“The artist. Y/n. They’re known for this retro aesthetic and emotionally charged music. Their songs are often about isolation and nostalgia.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t peg you as a fan of cinematic dream-pop, Spence.”

“I’m not,” he replied quickly, adjusting his tie. “But their cultural significance is undeniable.”

Unshaken by Reid’s deflection, JJ smirked. “Right.”

As the team worked, Reid couldn’t shake the feeling that the music held more than just atmospheric appeal for their unsub. It felt personal, almost like a signature.

Back at Quantico, Reid dove into research. Y/n’s career was a study in contrasts. They had skyrocketed to fame with their debut album, Echoes of Velvet Dreams, yet they remained elusive, retreating from public view between releases.

“They’re like a ghost,” Garcia said as she tapped away at her keyboard. “No scandals, no sightings outside of carefully orchestrated performances. Even their interviews are cryptic. The fans eat it up, though. They call themselves the ‘Velvet Hearts.’”

“They’ve cultivated an aura of mystery,” Reid observed. “It’s part of their appeal. People project their own emotions onto the music, creating a deeply personal connection.”

Garcia spun her chair to face him. “Sounds like you’re one of those people.”

Reid ignored her, focusing instead on the patterns emerging in the case. Each victim had been found in a space meticulously designed to mirror Y/n’s aesthetic. And always, one of their songs was playing.

The team’s investigation led them to Kansas, where Y/n was performing a rare, intimate show in a vintage lounge. Reid and Prentiss attended under the guise of being fans, blending into the crowd of retro-clad concertgoers.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation. When Y/n finally appeared, the room fell silent. Draped in a sequined gown that shimmered under the dim light, they looked like a vision from another time.

As their haunting voice filled the space, Reid felt a strange pull. He couldn’t tell if it was the music, the case, or something else entirely, but Y/n had an undeniable presence that commanded attention.

After the performance, Reid approached their manager, flashing his badge. “We need to speak with Y/n about a case we’re working on.”

Moments later, he was ushered backstage. Y/n sat at a vanity, their reflection framed by dimly glowing bulbs. When they turned to face him, their gaze was sharp, cutting through the haze of their ethereal persona.

“You’re FBI,” they said, their voice softer but no less commanding than on stage.

“Yes, Dr. Spencer Reid,” he replied, extending his hand.

Y/n studied him for a moment before shaking it. “What’s this about?”

Reid hesitated, momentarily distracted by the way the light caught on their features. “There’s a string of murders. Each scene is styled after your music, your image. We believe the unsub may be targeting people in connection to you.”

Y/n’s expression didn’t waver, but their hand gripped the edge of the vanity. “If someone’s using my art to hurt people, I want to help stop them.”

Over the next few weeks, Y/n became an unlikely collaborator. Reid found himself spending long hours with them, combing through fan letters, interviews, and obscure references in their lyrics.

Their dynamic was an odd but comfortable rhythm. Y/n’s introspective nature balanced Reid’s analytical mind, and their conversations often veered into personal territory.

One evening, while reviewing letters in a small recording studio, Y/n asked, “Do you ever feel like you don’t belong in the world you’re in?”

Reid looked up, startled by the question. “All the time,” he admitted.

Y/n smiled faintly. “That’s why I write. It’s the only way I know how to connect.”

Reid nodded, understanding more than he expected to. “For me, it’s knowledge. Facts and patterns—they make sense when nothing else does.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the case, the unsub, the danger—it all faded away.

The case reached its climax in a derelict diner on the outskirts of St. Louis. The unsub, a disillusioned fan, had recreated a scene from Y/n’s song “Midnight Motel”, complete with neon signs and half-empty coffee cups.

Reid and Morgan cornered the unsub, who ranted about preserving Y/n’s art, his obsession spilling out in fractured sentences.

“Y/n doesn’t want this,” Reid said, his voice steady. “You’re twisting their message.”

As the unsub was subdued, Reid’s thoughts drifted to Y/n. The case was over, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the connection they’d built.

Months later, Reid received an unmarked package. Inside was a vinyl record: Y/n’s latest album, Velvet Minds.

He placed it on his turntable, the familiar hum of the needle filling the room. The first track began, a delicate piano intro leading into Y/n’s unmistakable voice.

“Dedicated to Spencer,” the liner notes read.

As the music played, Reid leaned back, a rare smile tugging at his lips. Somewhere, in the vastness of their respective worlds, he and Y/n had found a melody that was uniquely theirs.

[bb-bugspot]

Almost the same.

[Part 1] (Another fic based on a few drawings of @mas-away that I absolutely loved to be based on, and my own ideas too ofc :3)

From the moment he was born, Odysseus wings were always the same color: white and the tips of the feathers a pretty purple. It was a bit surprising, not because of the fact he had little head wings at all, his maternal grandfather and mother had wings too, but theirs were a different color. His own were the exact same as his great grandfather, Hermes.

Autolycus wings, his grandfather, were more of a brown color with different tones, related to his own powers as a thief who could make the things he stole invisible. His mother’s wings, Anticlea, were less of a vibrant color, a soft baby blue, almost too pale to be noticed and quite the contrast against her own father’s and Hermes palette color.

Ctimene’s wings were a pretty light orange, almost goldish with lighter tips, going perfectly with her personality when she grew up after being born, but Odysseus were a perfect copy of Hermes, although with only a set, it was quick to show he would have a stronger connection in the future with his great grandfather, being more alike than anyone would expect.

When he grew up, those similitudes were made clearer and the way he would spend time together with Hermes only reinforced that. Two sides of the same coin, it should be ridiculous to say that about a god and a mortal, but it was true for everyone who knew and saw them whenever the god was around, not like the two of them would deny it, but it was still fun to point it out.

He took great care of them, not displaying them off too much, of course, but he was proud and liked to run his fingers through them whenever he was thinking, or even keeping them pressed against his head so they wouldn’t flutter and puff up to show how he was feeling.

When he went to war, it was difficult to take care of them and it was troublesome to even keep them safely hidden beneath the curls of his hair, but he managed. Preening was barely done, although he trusted Eurylochus and Polites for it, they had more important matters and even he forgot to do it while planning on how to infiltrate past the walls of Troy so they could rescue Helen and manage to escape without trouble.

When trying to get back home, it was better at the start, but after Polites dead he would stress out and pull a few feathers from his wings, sometimes he would grab a handful and sob his heart out. He had not only lost his best friend, but Athena, his mentor and patron goddess, had left him too after the decision of making himself known to Polyphemus after he blinded him because he had taken the life of a lot of his men and Polites too.

Foolish decision, but he had been tired and angry, he wanted it to hurt and have the cyclop suffer not being considered because of the first “name” he had given him at the start.

When he met Aelous, his wings were not the best, he was ashamed of how they looked bald on a few spots and so kept them hidden beneath the hat that Penelope had made for him. The wing god ended up finding about them either way and gave him some oil to help the growth of feathers back in an instant, although not without some itchiness that he had to stop himself from stopping.

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[darlingian]

The red and blue flashing lights are what he notices first.

Then he hears the shouting.

Mickey's hands behind his back. The cop’s hand pushing Mickey's head down and into the car. Right in front of their apartment building.

Ian blinks and he's up in their faces. Demanding to know what's going on. What they're arresting his husband for. Why they're being so fucking rough with him. Mickey is still shouting but now it's at Ian. Telling him it's okay, don't worry about him. As if that were possible. As if he doesn't know Ian better than that. Ian is this close to throwing punches.

But when Ian finally locks eyes with Mickey, he tries to quiet the rage he has thrumming through his veins.

“I'll follow you there!” He shouts to Mickey through the glass of the cop car.

Glass separating them like all those time in juive. In prison. Prison. Was that about to be their life again?

The panic is steadily rising in Ian's chest. The stupid fucking tie around his neck suddenly feels oppressively tight. The rented suit is uncomfortable on his skin now that he's all dressed up with only the cop shop to go to.

He doesn't ask the questions he really wants to know the answers to. What the fuck did Mickey do? Why would he do something that would break them apart again? Why Mickey?

Why why why why why? Running through Ian's brain on constant loop as he gets in his car and follows his husband’s legal captors down to the station. He can't let himself answer his own thoughts. If he does he knows he's going to break down. At the thought of being a prison widow. Having to visit his husband behind glass again... He thought they were beyond this…

No.

He has to stop. Otherwise he'll spiral and his husband needs him to not be spiraling right now. He presses his foot down on the gas pedal a touch harder. Not speeding. He's still in control. He takes a deep breath through his nose and let's it out slowly through his teeth. Just like he learned in therapy. In. Out. Again. Again.

—

That tenuous control slips the second the asshole cop at the station tells him he can't see Mickey. Can't even tell him why he's here or when/if they're releasing him. Ian's hands ball into fists by his sides. Seeing red like he used to, back when his knuckles were frequently bloody.

The breathing exercise shit ain't working now. So he tries the next best thing. Ian's hands, seemingly without input from the rest of him, pull out his phone and call Lip.

“Hey man, what's up?”

He takes a gasp of breath before words start spilling “They arrested Mickey. They won't let me see him. I–”

“You okay?”

“Jesus Christ, Lip. They arrested my husband and I don't know why or for what or how long they're keeping him or if I'm losing him after–”

“Which station?”

—

Lip is minimally more effective at getting some information on the situation once he arrives. He plays the homophobia, mental illness, and ex-fellon cards and manages to piss off the desk cop enough that he gives them some details. Probably just to shut Lip up.

What they learn is that Mickey has been arrested in connection with a robbery at a pawn shop on the south side. They have him on camera and when he was arrested they found one of the stolen items on his person. He's being booked and will be in county lock up by morning.

Ian can't figure out how that's even possible. Mickey wouldn't risk them getting split up again for whatever he could get from holding up a pawn shop. They're doing okay these days. There's always food in the fridge, gas in the car, toothpaste next to the bathroom sink instead of baking soda. They pay their bills on time. They're a success story according to their probation officers.

Ian has been holding his emotions in check for hours now and is starting to leak at the seams. The dam is near breaking and Ian doesn't want to let it out in this dingy police station waiting area.

But he sure as fuck isn't leaving his husband here either.

“Hey, why don't you go home and get some sleep. I'll wait here for him.”

“Lip, by the sound of it, Mick isn't just going to freely walk out of here. I can't leave him while I'm still allowed to stay.” Ian shakes his head and stares at his nervously wringing hands.

Lip sighs. “Ian, you don't know that. Have you even taken your meds today?”

Ian's internal alarm system goes off when he realizes he's actually missed two doses at this point. But he is not. Going. Home.

“Guess you gotta go get my meds for me.” Ian says wryly.

Lip rolls his eyes. He braces his hands on his knees and groans dramatically as he stands.

“Gimmie your keys, asshole.” Lip grumbles as he holds a hand out. He makes an impatient grabby motion as he waits for Ian to dig them out of his pocket.

“You didn't drive?”

“Nah, Tammy's at her sister's with the kids. I took the eL and ran the rest.”

Something twists in Ian's gut and he looks up at Lip and nods. He's grateful for his brother. It's not something he ever takes for granted that his brother comes running (sometimes literally) whenever he needs him.

“Thanks, Lip. Really.”

Lip smirks and ruffles Ian's overgrown curls. “Text me if you think of anything else you want from your place.” he says as he walks out the door.

A rush of cold air billows inside as his brother leaves. It's grounding. Ian relishes the cold air as he breathes it in. His fingers twitch for a cigarette.

Smokes -he texts Lip.

👍🏼- he receives in reply.

Ian taps his thumbs idly against his phone screen. His knee bouncing. His heart beating hard and fast inside his chest. He shimmies the suit jacket from his shoulders and starts methodically rolling up his sleeves. Just for something to do.

Undo the buttons at the wrists. Flip up the cuff. Roll it over once. Twice. Next sleeve.

Once he's done, his breathing has evened out and he's thinking a lot more clearly.

He can't handle Mickey going to prison. Fuck, Mickey can't handle Mickey going to prison.

He keeps it pretty well hidden, but Ian knows Mickey is just as scared of going back in as Ian is. Prison was hard. Sure they joke about it. And they definitely had some great moments together inside. But they have had so many more here on the outside. They've been free and relatively at ease for the first time in all the time they've been together.

No homophobic fathers, no unwanted babies, no unmedicated mental illness, no one on the lam, no prison walls.

Prison. Ian wonders if that's always been where they're meant to land.

They.

Because Ian sure as fuck isn't going to let Mickey go alone this time.

—

Ian's hand is hanging absently out the window of the car. His cigarette has almost burned down to his finger tips. He hasn't actually taken a drag in a while.

His mind is elsewhere. Focused on the man he can see manning the counter of the pawn shop through the store window ahead.

He takes a deep breath and flicks the cigarette butt away.

It's now or never.

Ian slides the balaclava over his head.

mini moodboard story challenge [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] [ more ]

[triglycercule]

what if because dust and horror wouldn't wanna be called anything aside from sans in a multiverse context and they were both good buddies they both just start calling eachother sans. i'm sans (dust) and i'm sans (horror) ahh duo

becaaause horror in his eye(s) still sees himself as sans!! he's sans!! who else is he SUPPOSED to be god 😒😒 stop attatching this stupid fake name onto him that just points out all his shortcomings in his au and also just dehumanizes him (because i get that aus are named after a key trait of something but COME ON the guy's name is HORROR it's like naming a poor person "brokie" or something,,,). horror is PROUDLY sans smh

and dust ALSO sees himself as sans!!! like,,, granted he's definitely not a better sans than he was before considering everything he did (but he still doesn't like his past self's inaction) but he's STILL SANS. nothing about him changed (really?) enough to warrant the whole identity shift. like dude dont discredit him DONT DENY HIS WHOLE LIFE!!! he IS sans no matter what,,, dust doesnt wanna think about what he became if he's not sans now anyways lul :3

now could they fight over the right to the identity of sans??? possibly,,, but also consider this: there are literally infinite numbers of sanses in the multiverse. at some point the shiny title of Sans would be something horror and dust are used to around the multiverse!!! so why fight over the name (that so many others share already so its not exactly exclusive) when they can just decide to make each other feel better!!! be delusional TOGETHER 🤞

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE

[twelvemartha]

still thinking about her (14martha)

[im-smart-i-swear]

Ok so Buddy works in space McDonalds right? Does that mean others have a job somewhere as well?

ill admit that in the comic i used space mcdonalds mostly for comedic effect........ i mean they propably worked at a space fast food restaurant at some point, but it definetely wasnt their only job!

okay so after eeneks unexpected family reunion the clones, eenek and zora all decide to stay on znahors ship for the time being(it gets a little cramped but its bearable), and they just kinda start going from place to place after that?? before picking them all up znahor already was doing essentialy that, anyway- he traveled from planet to planet, occasionally helping the locals and then fucking off elsewhere. so thats what they do! they jump from one star system to the next, never staying anywhere for long, trying to not bring any unwanted attention to themselves, and they get by mostly by doing random odd jobs(some more legal than others..) and stuff.

they all(ecept for taka bc hes like 10) get their fair share of shitty jobs, but they dont really have a choice, do they? the war is over, sure, but obviously such a long conflict leaves an impact on the world. the chaos is on one hand a blessing, bc an odd bunch like three galrans and a gaggle of humans dont bring much attention in a sea of refugees, but it also means that sometimes things get messy, and making ends meet is difficult.

out of the clones, buddy has the most experience and knowledge about how alien worlds function, so they often end up with jobs that require communication and frequent interaction with other people- basically what im trying to say is that they work customer service. a lot. they survive it by remembering how infiuriating diplomacy was and telling themselves that hey! at least them fucking something up wont put the fate of the universe into jeopardy this time!! stickbug often works alongside them, but he hates interacting with customers even more that buddy does and tries to avoid this kind of job as much as he can(my man spent too much time trying to please everyone in his childhood and is OVER IT). i mean all of them get a customer service job from time to time but bud is the one whos least terrible at it

im not sure if the others have any preferred jobs tbh, but the idea of soup trying competetive fighting at some point would be interesting to explore i think........

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I had an interview on Monday and it went really well, the hiring manager said she really wanted me on the team and I should hear back by Tuesday. Didn't hear back by Tuesday, so on Wednesday I called them. They said the hiring manager was off for the next two days, call back on Friday after 1pm. I call at 2:15pm, the hiring manager has gone to the bank, call back in 10-15 minutes. If she's gone when I call back in about 30 minutes I'm just going to think she's avoiding me. Why is getting a job literal torture? This is a job at McDonald's btw.

Update: I have orientation on Monday!!

[no1ryomafan]

Forgot to mention awhile ago I started Big O-ITS GOOD-and this is something that hasn’t been touched on yet but is that the robot is sentient, which got me thinking about why this aspect is appealing to me in mecha context pasts “already preferring robots with sentience to begin with”.

There is something both intriguing and horrifying about the idea this giant man made machine your piloting that cannot speak at all is still technically aware. It doesn’t have a free will per-say as it needs you, its pilot, to operate it, to make it move and fight, but it still has its own thoughts and feelings. And whether or not this sentience means anything to humanity-if it freaks out other people, if it means anything for the general scale of evolution and the future as technology continues to grow-you still have the duty to pilot this robot because there’s no other way to eliminate the enemies, and only you can do it. Even if you didn’t choose to, the robot needs you as much as you need it.