#this is my only post this year about it though i am

[satellite-evans]

right where you left me

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex girlfriend!reader

Summary: You're still where Max left you.

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is the first fic that I’m posting for the folkmore series, I am so excited!!! Can’t wait to hear what you guys think <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The restaurant still smells the same. The warm scent of buttered bread, the faint tang of expensive wine in the air, the subtle undertone of aged wood and candle wax melting into soft pools of gold. It’s been months—years, maybe—since the night Max walked out, yet the place feels untouched, frozen in time. Just like you.

You sit at the same table, your fingers brushing against the linen napkin, tracing invisible patterns on the surface. The same table where his laughter once curled in the air, where his hands would have reached for yours without thinking. Your glass of water remains half-full, just as it was that night. Untouched. Forgotten. A relic of a moment that still lingers in the corners of your mind like an echo you can’t quite silence.

The candlelight flickers, its glow catching the delicate ring you still wear on your right hand—the one he gave you as a promise before he decided promises were too heavy to keep. You twist it absentmindedly, the metal cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth of memory.

Outside, the city hums with life. Cars glide past, their headlights flashing like distant stars. The murmur of strangers, the clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter—all of it moves forward, untethered to the past. But here, at this table, in this restaurant where time seems to hold its breath, you sit in the hollow space he left behind.

And for the first time in a long while, you wonder if he ever comes here, too. If he ever stops just outside the door, hand hesitating on the handle, breathing in the familiar scent and remembering. Or if, like the promises he made, he’s let it all go.

“Are you ready to order?”

The waiter’s voice pulls you from your trance, gently but firmly, like a hand on your shoulder bringing you back to the present. You blink, your gaze shifting from the flickering candlelight to the young man standing beside your table, his notepad poised, his expression polite but unreadable.

You only shake your head, offering a tight smile. “Not yet,” you murmur, though you already know the answer.

He doesn’t question it. He never does. Maybe by now, he recognizes you—not just as another customer, but as a fixture of this place. The girl who always sits alone. The girl who never changes her order. The girl who lingers too long over a half-full glass of water, as if she’s waiting for it to fill itself. The girl who still waits for someone who isn’t coming back.

Does he wonder? Does he piece together the story in his mind, constructing quiet theories about why you return to the same spot, why your fingers still play absentmindedly with a ring that should’ve lost its meaning by now? Is he used to people like you—the ones who haunt old memories like ghosts who refuse to be laid to rest?

Or does he just think that you’re a girl frozen in time, that time went on for everyone else but that you wouldn’t know?

A girl that just can’t move on.

He nods, stepping away without another word, leaving you alone once more. Alone with the past. Alone with the quiet hum of the restaurant around you, the soft clatter of silverware, the muted conversations that blur together into white noise.

You exhale, glancing toward the empty chair across from you. It remains untouched, just as it was that night. Just as it has been every night since.

You wonder if Max ever thinks about this place. If he ever remembers the way your fingers used to trace lazy patterns over his knuckles while he rambled about race strategy, his voice animated, his eyes alight with passion. If he recalls how you’d bite your lip to keep from laughing when he confidently—yet disastrously—mispronounced the names of the wines on the menu, only to scowl at you in mock offense when you corrected him. If he ever sits in a quiet moment, caught off guard by a passing scent or a familiar song playing in the background, and suddenly, inexplicably, thinks of you.

If he feels even the slightest pang of nostalgia when he hears your name.

If he even knows that you come to this restaurant, even though you felt the most heart crushing pain here.

That he left you no choice but to stay here forever.

Or if he’s forgotten all of it. All of you.

You hadn’t meant to check, but old habits die hard. One second, your mind was wandering, and the next, your fingers were already scrolling, moving with a muscle memory you wished you didn’t have. Before your brain could stop them. Before your heart could brace itself.

And suddenly, there it was, a picture trending on Twitter.

Max Verstappen & Kelly Piquet expecting their first child together!

The words seem to blur for a moment, your vision tunneling, breath catching somewhere in your throat. And then, below the headline, a photo.

You wanted to say that it was irony or even faith that you found out that he was expecting a baby with another woman in the same restaurant where he would whispered sweet words about how he wanted to be father to your children so badly, but you don’t believe in faith anymore. This restaurant was just destined to haunt you forever.

At least he looks happy.

Happier than you remember. Happier than he ever was with you.

Your grip tightens on your phone, but your body remains still, frozen in place. The sounds of the restaurant fade into static, the clinking glasses and quiet laughter around you suddenly feeling like background noise to a scene you no longer belong in.

You exhale slowly, pressing your lips together as you force yourself to look away from the screen, as if that might erase the image from your mind. As if that might make it hurt less.

But it doesn’t.

The ring on your finger feels heavier. It presses into your skin like an anchor, pulling you back to a past you can’t escape, a past you’re still tethered to. You blink rapidly at the screen, hoping, praying, that the words will change. That maybe this is some cruel joke, some mistake, but they don’t. The image doesn’t blur. It’s real. It’s him.

Another picture.

Christmas. They’re spending it together.

A perfect family. The kind you used to imagine when you’d sit together, planning for the future, talking about how one day, maybe, you’d have a house full of children and laughter.

The cruelest part is how ordinary it all looks. A picture-perfect moment, the kind you once dreamed of having with him, now shared with someone else. A life you are no longer a part of.

It’s funny, really. How time moves forward for everyone but you. How the world shifts, the seasons change, new memories replace the old ones. Love finds new homes. But you? You’re still here, frozen in place, gathering dust like an abandoned photograph tucked away in a forgotten drawer, one that’s too painful to even look at anymore.

You can’t help yourself but eread the headline over and over again and look at the pictures of them spending Christmas together, as if the repetition might somehow make it easier to swallow. Your heart clenches, a familiar ache spreading through your chest. The kind of ache that never really goes away. The kind of ache that lingers, festers, and refuses to fade no matter how much time passes.

You want to scream, to throw your phone across the room, to erase the image, the words, the entire situation from existence. But you don’t. You sit still, paralyzed, watching the truth unfold in front of you, as if you’re witnessing something that’s no longer your story but someone else’s.

And maybe it is. Maybe it always was.

You think about the night he told you. The memory lingers, every detail sharp as if it just happened yesterday. The dim candlelight flickered between you, casting warm, uneven shadows on the table, making his eyes look darker than usual. Your hair was pinned up, just the way he liked it, because all you wanted was to be enough for him, to be loved and cherished by him just the way you loved him. You remember the way he fidgeted with the water glass in his hands, the way his fingers trembled slightly, betraying the calmness his voice tried to convey. He didn’t even drink from it, just held it there like it was something to anchor him. And you? You could feel it before he even spoke. The knot in your stomach, tight and twisting, the way your heart seemed to freeze in place, like it already knew what was coming before your brain would allow it to acknowledge the truth.

"I met someone."

The words barely make sense. They hang in the air between you, impossible to grasp. For a moment, it feels like the world tilts on its axis, like reality itself has cracked and this is some sort of cruel dream you’ll wake up from.

You almost laugh, bitter and disbelieving, because it doesn’t sound real. It doesn’t sound like Max. Not the Max who once whispered forever into your hair, promising you a future where nothing could tear you apart. Not the Max who swore he couldn’t imagine a life without you, who said your names together like they belonged in the same sentence, forever linked. But the words still come, and somehow, despite everything, they are his.

The restaurant around you starts to fade away, the sounds dulling to a distant hum, muffled like you’re underwater, as if the world is pulling away from you, inch by inch. Your heart races, but your body feels oddly disconnected from it all, like you're watching someone else’s life unfold before you, helpless to stop it. You take a shallow breath, but it doesn’t reach the depths of your chest, and the weight of the moment settles in there like a stone you can’t dislodge.

"What?" Your voice barely makes it past your lips, a fragile whisper, so quiet that for a second you think he won’t even hear you. But he does.

His gaze drops to the table, his eyes avoiding yours, as if he can’t bear to see you crumble, as if he’s already sorry for what he knows he’s about to do. His voice is quieter now, almost too soft to catch. "I didn’t mean for it to happen."

You shake your head, disbelief clouding your thoughts. Your hands curl into fists in your lap, nails digging painfully into your palms, trying to hold on to something, anything. The ring on your finger suddenly feels like it’s choking the life out of you. "But it did."

The words escape from your throat like shards of glass, sharp and cold, biting as they land between you. He swallows hard, and you wonder if he’s doing it to hold back tears, or if it’s just the weight of what he’s about to say.

“She has a daughter,” he adds, his voice thick, but the words hit you like a slap, sharp and unforgiving. You feel your mascara run as your eyes sting with the hot, unfamiliar ache of betrayal. But you don’t wipe the tears away. You don’t move. You just sit there, paralyzed, staring at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that could take it all back. That could prove this isn’t real. That could remind you of the love you thought was enough.

“She’s not mine,” he continues, his voice wavering, like he’s trying to make it sound better, like he’s trying to convince you this is somehow okay. “But I love her like she is.”

The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. A sudden, cold numbness spreads across your chest, a pain that feels both sharp and hollow. The space between you and him stretches, filling with the things he can’t say.

“And her mother?” You force the words out, each one heavier than the last.

His silence is loud enough to drown out everything else—the clinking of silverware, the murmur of conversations from nearby tables, the soft jazz music playing in the background. Everything around you fades into the background until all that’s left is him and you, caught in the unbearable weight of what he won’t say.

When he finally speaks again, his voice barely rises above a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth. “I love her too.”

And just like that, it’s over. The last thread of hope you had been clinging to snaps, leaving you floating in a place where nothing makes sense anymore. The ring on your finger burns, searing into your skin, but you don’t take it off. Not yet. You can’t. Because somehow, it’s the only thing left of him, of the person you thought you knew, of the future that is no longer yours.

You know where he is now. He’s winning. He’s thriving. The world sees him on podiums, champagne in hand, his new life already unfolding in the bright lights. He’s standing beside someone else now, someone who doesn’t carry the weight of the past, someone who fills the space you left behind with ease. The world loves him, adores him. And you? You’re still at the restaurant, in the ruins of what he left behind, trapped in a love story that never got its happy ending, a story that no longer belongs to you.

You press your phone to your chest, as if it could somehow stop the ache from spreading. As if holding onto the past will make the present hurt less. But it doesn’t. The weight of the truth is suffocating, a heavy fog that settles over your heart, and you realize, with painful clarity, that you were never meant to be a part of his forever. You were never meant to last.

The whispers around you grow louder, piercing through the fog of your thoughts, and it doesn’t take much to understand why. You hear his name before you see him, and when you finally do, it feels like the ground beneath you tilts ever so slightly.

Max.

He looks different—sharper, somehow. More defined, more polished by the world that shaped him after you. His eyes sweep over the restaurant, and you wonder if they’ll stop on you, if he’ll look at you and see something from the past, something worth acknowledging. But no.

He’s here’s. At the restaurant. With her.

He really brought her here.

Kelly is beside him, her laughter effortless, untouched by the weight of history, the burden of old wounds. She leans into him, her hand resting gently on her stomach, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at him with the kind of love you used to think was meant for you. She doesn’t know what it’s like to sit in this seat, to watch someone walk away, to feel the years stretch endlessly before you as you wonder if they ever think about you.

Max’s gaze flicks across the room, and for just a split second, it lands on you. It’s so brief that you almost convince yourself it didn’t happen. But it did. His steps falter for a fraction of a second, his fingers tightening around Kelly’s hand before he looks away, as if something inside him is trying to hold onto a memory that’s already slipping through his fingers.

And that’s it. No smile. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just a glance, a flash of something unspoken, and then—nothing.

You knew that he didn’t care about you but, facing with that reality hurt you more than you thought. Here you were, coming to the same place a man hurt you because you loved him so much, only for the same man to come too because he didn’t love you at all.

What a shame.

Maybe it is true. Maybe you really are unawarely frozen in time. Maybe that would explain why you still feel the same pain now as on the day he left you.

You swallow hard, blinking away the burning in your eyes. The candle on the table flickers, casting long shadows that seem to stretch endlessly across the walls. The world outside moves forward, time marching on relentlessly, but you remain frozen in place, clutching onto the past like it’s the only thing that hasn’t slipped away.

The moment passes, and Max moves on, just like he always does.

But you? You’re still right where he left you.

[rainbowsky]

Anonymous asked:

Big fan of your posts! What do you think of Huang Ziteng's [redacted]

Love to hear your thoughts!

Hi Anon. Thanks so much for your kind words, I am glad you're enjoying my blog! ☺️

I suppose you must be a bit surprised to see your name come up as anonymous, since your question was not submitted anonymously. It is because this particular ask put me in a bit of a dilemma and I decided to err on the side of caution. I don't want anyone getting offended by what I have to say about things like this.

The material in question

The content that you shared with me was indeed video footage of Huang Ziteng speaking on a livestream about GG and DD. I asked a dear friend who is fluent in Chinese to give me a rough overview since there was no translation, and this is what Shufu is saying:

They've been together for 6 years.

DD was the one who was more outward in the pursuit, but GG was expressing his love with his eyes, and it's impossible to say who was attracted first.

A bit of background about The Untamed, saying that an actor with the last name of Ma was already cast as Wei WuXian and only needed to sign the contract, but Ma was in a series that was popular at the time and decided he wanted more compensation. The production couldn't afford it, and switched to GG.

Turtles will have a lifetime of candies.

This video is also not new (based on other copies found online, it's at least as old as October of last year), and apparently this isn't the first time he's spoken fairly openly about them in a livestream.

My thoughts

I have somewhat mixed feelings about this, and I want to dig into a couple of issues because this really touches upon some of the core considerations of being a turtle.

1 ] Supporting closeted couples

GG and DD are closeted, at least when it comes to being in the public eye*. This isn't just because of their queerness, but it is also because they are celebrities and as such they're required to appear single.

*It is obvious they are out among their friends and close colleagues, but that is very different from being publicly out.

We need to consider audience expectations and the pressures of investors, brands and productions to be able to market stars on the perception of romantic availability. This is why stars in that industry tend to hide their relationships and even families and children.

As celebrities GG and DD are not able to be publicly out.

Being queer is undoubtedly also a complication. Even though many Chinese citizens are tolerant of homosexuality, especially the younger generation, many are only tolerant of it as long as it is not seen or discussed. It's highly likely coming out would result in a lot of backlash among audiences, even from people who aren't fans that dream of one day marrying them.

Chinese audiences can be absolutely savage towards anyone who takes up a certain type of public airspace. Anyone who sticks their head up too far for any reason stands a chance of having it chewed off.

That's quite apart from the political implications for them. The current government has had a very anti LGBTQ approach. GG and DD are not at liberty to be open about their sexual orientation if they want to be able to continue to enjoy a top spot in this heavily government-regulated industry, where they are frequently put in the position of being role models and ambassadors.

If they were to come out publicly about their relationship, or even just about being queer, it's very likely that a lot of queer people and queer allies would be inspired and emboldened by them.

While that might sound like a good thing to our Western ears, it's likely not so in the eyes of the government. This government treats LGBTQ people as potential political dissidents, which is why they crack down so much on opportunities for queer people to gather. Night clubs are shut down, queer organizations and agencies are shut down, Pride marches are no longer allowed.

The last thing they would want is for two of the top celebrities in the country to become poster boys for the queer rights movement. And this could easily happen whether GG and DD wanted it or not.

If they were seen as in any way leading or even just inspiring a politically subversive movement (as any movement that is critical of government policy is treated), it would not be good for them.

There is another, in some ways potentially more serious issue. This government has repeatedly characterized queer people as having a corrupting influence on youth. GG, and especially DD, are extremely popular among young people. If they were to come out about their relationship or about being queer, there is a possibility that in the eyes of the government they would instantly become 'corruptors of the youth', with all of the outcomes that one can imagine for such a corrupter.

In other words, it could be very unpleasant indeed.

Make no mistake about it, the government knows they are a couple. This government knows. But GG and DD are allowed to play the roles they play in the industry because they are useful to the government, because they are mouthpieces for political messaging, and because they keep a low profile with regard to their personal lives.

There's also the personal side to this.

As queer people, our identities and our personal lives frequently become a source of controversy and friction. Therefore our personal stories absolutely must be under our own control. We must always be the ones deciding how much about us is known, and who knows it.

All of this to say, this is not Huang Ziteng's story to tell, and as somebody who knows them personally and is publicly associated with them - having worked with them in the past - outing them like this to fans is extremely not okay. Unless he has their permission, he is seriously violating their privacy and potentially putting them at risk.

For this reason, I find it extremely difficult to imagine that GG in particular would have given him permission to speak openly about their relationship. He would have understood that it could make Huang Ziteng look bad, as there's no way for him to say or prove that he has their permission to discuss these things.

All other considerations aside, I just don't see GG being okay with that.

2 ] The issue of veracity

Turtles love Shufu. Of course we do. He gives us candy, and we all love candy. There are many turtles who starve and suffer without candy. Some of our favorite candies came directly from him. What's not to love?

The problem here is, there's absolutely no evidence or proof of anything that he says beyond what we already know as turtles. He isn't giving us any new evidence or proof of their relationship (and that's probably really good thing given what I just talked at length about above), and most crucially he has not given any fresh insight into them as a couple. Nothing that might show he really has an inside perspective on them.

There's absolutely nothing to say that he isn't simply parroting everything we say back to us, telling us what we want to hear.

For what purpose? Well, people can be a bit strange, especially when it comes to fame and attention and popularity. I've actually seen this with my own eyes IRL. Humans can behave in puzzling ways when in the proximity of people who are very famous and popular.

Personal opportunism aside, the world can be very cold and lonely, and people will often go to great lengths to feel special, to feel powerful and to feel loved.

I just finished talking about how much turtles tend to love Shufu. That alone is something that should give all of us pause when it comes to a situation like this. We are vulnerable to being taken advantage of by somebody in his position. We need to proceed with caution and understand the possibility that he could be just saying these things for his own purposes.

This actually happened with Cheng Yi. Remember she used to share a lot of cartoons and candies and other things related to GG and DD. It turns out that she tried to profit from impressionable c-turtles a while back, in ways that made them uncomfortable. We all need to be very careful who we trust. And I say this as someone who has a chronic problem with being too trusting and naive.

I am by no means saying that Huang Ziteng is lying, or that he is setting out to take advantage of turtles, I'm simply pointing out that we do not know where he's coming from or why he's doing what he's doing, and there are a lot of legitimate reasons to be concerned. We don't even know what his current relationship with them is, or if he actually has any recent information about them.

So I know a lot of turtles are going to be extremely excited about the idea that someone who knows them personally is openly confirming their relationship. However, I would urge caution on this.

The way I see it there are three possibilities:

He is directly aware of their relationship, and was sharing this information with their permission. Of course anything is possible, but given all of the issues I just discussed above, I find it highly, highly unlikely. They already have the fake rumor house and their own social media accounts and various other ways of feeding us. I find it unlikely that they would authorize friends and colleagues to out them publicly.

He is saying all of this without their permission, and doing so for his own reasons, whether that be emotional validation or personal gain or some other purpose. Unfortunately we have to accept that this is a very real possibility.

He is a turtle himself, whether he has direct knowledge about their relationship or not, and is excited to talk about them with other turtles, and everything he is saying is just the ramblings of any turtle - without any actual validation, just like any other turtle.

Which of these possibilities am I leaning toward? For now I'm sitting somewhere between option two and option three - much more leaning to two. I'm going to reserve judgment for now, but I'm starting to look a little bit more carefully at past candies from him and thinking they might need to be reevaluated.

In other words, I'm starting to have doubts about him and his motives, although I am keeping an open mind. I will need more information before I can really make a decision on where I stand.

I would like to conclude by saying to everyone - don't be cynical, don't view everyone as a grifter or an opportunist, but also don't be naive and gullible. Things are rarely what we assume, whether we are assuming well or ill.

The truth usually falls somewhere between, in the grey area between the extremes.

Maybe one day we will get the answers to some of these questions, but for now we really don't have much information to go on. It's up to each turtle to chart their own path, I just hope we will all exercise critical thinking and discernment.

Final thoughts

Someone like this coming along and saying a bunch of stuff does not change a single thing for me as a turtle. I have no way of knowing whether he is speaking based on his own personal experience and close relationship with them, or whether he is speaking as a turtle who has been at some remove from them since filming.

I long ago stopped needing any validation of GG and DD's relationship. I trust my own judgment, so this kind of confirmation isn't really something I seek out or feel any kind of way about at all. I already believe BJYXSZD.

I feel like that insulates me somewhat from being swept away by something like this, and makes it possible for me to look at it with a skeptical eye.

If we analyze what he's saying, he sounds like somebody who has been watching the BTS. This is exactly the sort of thing I've seen many turtles say over the years. And if you examine his statements, for example, "It's impossible to say who was attracted first," a comment like that makes my spidey senses tingle.

If he was close enough to them to know the details of their relationship, and especially if he was close enough to be given permission to share those details, surely he would have some insight into such things, or at least some personal flourish to add.

So for reasons I already stated, I'm not able to take this at face value and just trust he is acting in good faith and out of complete honesty as someone who is in their close inner circle. If anything this throws everything he's previously shared into doubt for me, and makes me wary of his motives.

Like I said, every turtle has to chart their own path, and develop our own perspectives based on the available information.

It's not like we have to decide one way or the other, either. It's always an interesting thought exercise to explore a variety of different perspectives and possibilities, and keep our minds open. Since we are unlikely to ever get confirmation one way or the other, there's no point in jumping to conclusions.

In any case, I will be keeping my eye on him.

My friend said the most interesting thing about this livestream is what he says about GG and the role of WWX. I have to agree. Production talked during promo about GG being first choice for WWX, so this statement from Huang Ziteng is very interesting (and likely impossible to verify).

Standard disclaimer: this is my personal opinion based on my own experience and perspective. There may be people who will disagree with what I have to say and that is their right, but I won't tolerate any hostility. We can agree or disagree on friendly terms. Anyone who is unable to be friendly and civil in their disagreement is asked not to respond to this post.

[chaaistained]

☕︎ my marauders dr; intro •°

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🗝️ you’ve now unlocked the recipe to my marauders dr ≈

name : julia ephemeri potter

age (when i shift) : 15 — i’m experiencing the whole slow burn.. and i just know it’s gonna be torture . but we persevere

— (when i post about my script) : most of the time, i’ll be talking about me from the ages of 16-21 onwards

occupation : student of witchcraft at hogwarts

+ (eventually) some form of adult occupation . i’ll edit this later i genuinely don’t know and i don’t need to know for good few years at least so..

details :

— house : gryffindor

— wand : sandalwood with a mermaid hair core , 9.5”

+ wand breakdown tbd

— patronus : brown bear / sable (undecided, i love both.. help)

— amortentia : ocean air , candle wax , musty paper

+ amortentia breakdown tbd

— fav subject : alchemy

— top subjects : (+ alchemy) ancient runes , charms , muggle studies

— pets : sadie / sadie sue (ginger tabby cat) , barnaby (brown barn owl , shared with james..)

side hobbies/hustles : gryffindor quidditch team seeker

+ (eventually) editorial team of the hogwarts herald

+ (eventually) prefect

s/o : regulus arcturus black ৻ꪆ

౨ৎ meet miss juju berry

an incandescence, forged of tart blood and a permeating sense of melancholy — she finds herself in a constant search, an unsolvable quest for meaning, latching onto anything that can define her identity and yet feeling irrevocably lost to herself — she is only the light, not the sun . she is only the shell, not the pearl . she is only the stain , not the blackberry

i unfurl into this reality with the kind of effervescence found in firewhiskey, a bubbling surprise of sorts, one that my own parents weren’t expecting. my mum calls me a gift, she calls my brother a blessing . i don’t know if the difference in term denotes a difference in how we’re perceived, and truth be told it drove me crazy as a kid and sometimes it still does but for whatever purpose or prosperity, the fates resolved that i was meant to be born and here i am

a toppling fire cracker of a girl, or so i’m told, i’m one of the rambunctious gryffindors that barrel down the marble hallways of hogwarts castle. i bunk with seven other girls, one of whom is my best friend — mary macdonald. along with the charming ravenclaw — emmeline vance — and a snark of a hufflepuff — hestia jones — the four of us can be found in various locations around the school campus; passed out in a heap on the softest patch of grass near the black lake , shooting pine cones over the whomping willow and keeping score of who gets the most over without the tree smacking them away , secluded in the third booth on the second floor of the library . our quills drying out while we distractedly ignore our transfiguration homework in favour of finding the right spell to conceal our carved names on the bottom of the booth’s oakwood table (the result of emmeline sneaking alcoholic butterbeer into the school, and a series of bad decisions later, we’d all drunkenly vandalised the furniture.. thankfully mcgonagall doesn’t know or i might lose my prefect badge)

with small flowers in my braid and golden earrings that shimmer as i shake my head, i slip between the sea of students with an ease that can only be spotted in the agile gait of a seeker. though, nothing about my speed on the ground can compare to that which i showcase when i’m hundreds of feet in the air, my broomstick being an extension of me, something i trust to a concerning degree, coming up with the sorts of tricks and techniques that would land me in the hospital wing if i wasn’t as good as i am. that attention to detail, the pedantic precision of my sight is also what makes me a renowned editor of the student body’s newsletter — a semi-professional scrapbook of a weekly issue, a holistic voice of all students from all houses . honestly it can be hard to maintain that harmony but perhaps that’s why dumbledore sanctioned the club, a forceful hand at coexisting

regardless, it’s the least of my worries, a pastime really, my main focus being the exceedingly irritating presence of a certain slytherin seeker, who grows more and more unbearable by the day, not to mention he’s constantly around, in almost all my classes, assigned to same hours of prefect patrol, not a moment of peace . and yet paired with that bothersome nuisance brews the burning desire to find out more

and if you want to know why, then i suppose you should keep reading

(merlin’s name, i can write intrigue splendidly, they should assign me as the journalist not just the bloody editor)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ my black bird

a rising tide in his own right, he is determined to maintain what is deemed to be perfection, unwilling to admit that no two waves ever look the same, no two stars ever shine alike, there is no apex . and yet he tries. haunted by ancestry, rippling currents that pull him into the ravine of his family’s legacy, it’s a future he wishes to inherit whilst believing it impossible. until his brother abandoned his birthright and that status, that title, that name he always wanted to earn yet never actually trained for, was now his

that unassuming final breath before striking a curse, the calm interwoven with calamity, that’s what regulus feels in every waking moment .

there is a blurry haze of memories when he tries to decipher where it all began — did envy bleed out of him every time sirius entered the room and commanded attention with his mere presence? or was it admiration? did he love his brother or loath him? maybe neither, maybe both, maybe everything in between and nothing at all, it never made sense and it probably never will.

so then leaves the question of his own significance — fostered from birth? or handed down simply because he is the spare to the heir? in this instance both made sense but neither option would ever be clarified.

and so regulus chooses to not feel anything, reserve all emotions to be shared with a few select friends — evan and barty had a way about them, his laughter was not something he could hold back in their presence . dorcas founded a semblance of solitude even though the space was shared, as if their silence was a mutual understanding, a shorthand of sorts . pandora had the gift of gracing their group with his smile, he considered it a curse that she had such a superpower, to bring out these genuine joys in other people, but he knew she wouldn’t see it that way — those were his people

not his brother . who he shifted his eyes to look away from whenever they passed each other .. only to turn back and glance over his shoulder, observing the elder son’s movements, wishing he’d turn back too, and then hurriedly clenching his fist, squashing the thought before it even had the chance to breathe

not his parents . who stood tall yet hollow, ghosts of who they were before their family was “torn apart” according to them, holding metaphorical goal posts only to keep moving them higher and higher every time regulus attempted to score, before tutting as he slipped and fell, unable to maintain the impossible altitude of their expectations

no. his people were his friends, the people who could mellow out his misgivings, erode his stone walls

and yet, those stone walls remain intact, erosion takes time.

unless of course someone me shattered the very structure of his world view, erupting his life into firework flurries of emotions, clandestine nights, musty sunrises drenched in dew drops and fog, leaving a wafting air about the world, scented jasmine and blackberry, amber gold flecks embedded inside twin irises . the kind of beauty that haunts his dreams and burns fire in his heart

he really should not be giving in to such a tragically stupid connection, not when majority of the time is spent bickering amongst dusty textbooks, whispering shouts bouncing off cold castle walls in the middle of the night, hexes spewing back and forth before finally forfeiting from fear of being caught .. that isn’t what he should want

he shouldn’t want anything

and yet he does

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ candlelit hearts

sinking into an unknown abyss, falling from the sky with a smile on your face while the halo around your head crackles, wax dripping down the curve of your back, you were destined to fall, that’s what you are meant to do, that’s who you are meant to be — a tidal wave tore through your heart, engulfing you entirely and yet you let yourself descend deeper and deeper — for reasons unknown, you found a companion in the darkness, a fire in the flesh, a home between interlaced fingers, foreheads pressed together and a single flickering candle flame that burns bright from the magic of your shared love

it’s funny, when i look back at it. because i suppose we always knew the other existed, but i only really met him when i was 13..

whatever classes we shared before, whatever moments were missed where we walked past each other through hallways or on moving staircases, those never really registered.

i just remember the cold, the prickly sensation of snow on my bare fingertips, crunching under my feet, glittering from the shy slithers of sunlight that flitted through the bleak grey sky. the constant dinging bells, the sound of students exploring all that hogsmeade had to offer, and yet there we stood, facing each other in an alley between shops, frowning in a way that would become all too familiar in the years to come

for what it’s worth, it’s easy to dislike the guy — almost always beating me by a few marks, his facial expression was more than enough of a gloat in itself . creating nicknames for whatever trick i use in a quidditch match and always coming up with a counter move (he can’t ever let me win. personally speaking, of course, i win plenty of matches) . it’s always something with him, and whatever quick bursts of emotion i bring out are hurriedly buried under a blank expression and a tired, almost uninterested visage that boils my blood in a way i cannot possibly describe . and yet i find myself thinking about it, about him, in the ungodly hours of the night.. only to get back at him of course

and it isn’t as if i can speak for him, for the longest time i had no clue what he’d be thinking no matter how long i stared, trying to decipher his thoughts.. but i’d be an idiot to have not noticed a change — the way he would walk through life with a strive to prove himself and yet constantly controlling how much of that ambition he could show.. living each day almost half present, half minded, elsewhere entirely, focused on a far reaching future as if it was right around the corner

he wasn’t like that anymore, he seemed to flourish, to spark, to appear alive . but only when teetering on the tightrope of an improbable partnership, an impossible romance, a strange little love story written between the aged cushions of an abandoned couch, in a hidden lounge, behind an old potions classroom — we found it together . or, more so, we argued and raced to unlock the door first, but regardless, it was our space . a space in which the kindling fire of an unlikely friendship would blossom into something greater than i could ever hope for

and when the mysteries within the castle walls start to crack through, when the secrets between the students stir the cauldron of rumours, and the history of influential families begins to pull itself up from the grave .. i guess it’s not so surprising to admit, but someone as curious as me, paired with someone as persistent as regulus? it’s no big shock that we find ourselves in the middle of such a storm

one transmutation away from uncovering the truth, waking up old bones, and burying the new ones

don’t swallow the tea leaves ! for they leave you a message 🍂

the people have spoken (i’m referring to the poll) and so i post ^this .. it did take a while bcs of numerous reasons that i don’t want to go into but anyway, i adore this dr so so much and i’ve worked so hard on the fic version of it T^T however it is a bit too traumatic for me to actually live out so .. this dr is slightly more tame — i just want to relive high school in hogwarts with the people that helped me through a lot of the shit i faced when i was in high school and they were merely characters on a screen — although, i can’t help myself, there are a few mysteries and bouts of intrigue to keep me entertained, i just .need to figure out what.. i could leave it up to my subconscious but . i don’t wanna do that ≈

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

[partoffantasy]

Fool's Heart - Liam Mairi

summary: reader has always brushed off Liam’s flirting, knowing he never stays with one girl for long—but when she finally admits to herself that she wants more, she finds him with someone else. Heartbroken, she avoids him until he confronts her.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: angst word count: 1.8k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Y/N sat on her bed, staring blankly at the stone wall across from her, her mind a tangled mess of emotions. She hadn't meant for this to happen. Falling for Liam Mairi was never part of the plan. He was a flirt, a charmer, someone who never stuck with one girl for long. And yet, here she was, her chest tightening at the thought of him with someone else.

Y/N had never cared about Liam’s reputation. At least, that’s what she told herself. He was the golden boy of their squad—brilliant in battle, effortlessly charming, and infuriatingly attractive. But he was also a flirt, one who never lacked new romances. Twice a week, without fail, another girl would slip into his room, and twice a week, Y/N would bury herself under her blanket, pretending she couldn’t hear the muffled giggles or the sound of a door shutting a room away.

Earlier that day, they had been in the training yard, catching their breath after sparring. Liam leaned against the wooden post, his shirt damp with sweat, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "You know, Y/N, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you like what you see." Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Liam, I could be blindfolded and still land a hit on you. Maybe focus on your footwork instead of flirting?"

Liam let out a dramatic sigh, pushing off the post to step closer. "You wound me, truly. Here I am, offering you the privilege of my undivided attention, and you just throw it away." She smirked, shaking her head. "Undivided? You were flirting with that second-year cadet not even five minutes ago." Liam chuckled. "Jealous?" Y/N scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Please. I just think it’s funny that you recycle the same lines. You should at least try to be original."

His grin widened. "Oh, but I am. See, the thing is, none of them get the same treatment as you.” She felt her stomach flip at his words but masked it with an unimpressed expression. "So, what you’re saying is, I’m special?" Liam leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "Very." Y/N stared at him for a beat before shoving him again. "Go shower, Mairi. You stink." His laughter echoed as she turned on her heel and walked away, but she couldn’t shake the warmth spreading in her chest.

A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. "Y/N? You in there?" Violet’s voice was gentle, but firm. Y/N hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, come in." Violet stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She took one look at Y/N’s expression and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, spill." Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face. "It’s nothing." Violet snorted. "Bullshit. You've been weird around Liam for weeks. And before you say anything, I've seen the way you look at him. What’s going on?"

Y/N bit her lip, hesitating. Then, before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out. "I think—I know—I have feelings for him. And it’s driving me insane because he’s Liam. He’s never serious about anyone." Violet nodded slowly, as if she had already known. "What changed? You guys have always been close, but something’s different now." Y/N exhaled sharply, her mind flooding with memories. "It’s always been there, I think, but I just ignored it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it because I knew it wouldn’t matter. He flirts with everyone. But lately... lately it’s been different."

Violet crossed her arms. "How so?" Y/N let out a humorless laugh. "It’s the little things. The way he always makes sure I have my favorite seat at the table. How he somehow remembers the exact way I take my tea, even though I only drink it when I’m sick. The way he teases me, but it’s never too much. He always knows when to stop, when to be serious."

She swallowed hard before continuing. "A few weeks ago, I was freezing after drills, and he just—he just wrapped his jacket around me without saying a word. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, didn’t expect anything in return. And then there was that night after sparring when I was exhausted, and he just sat with me in the common room, letting me rant about how much I sucked. He told me I was strong, that I was getting better. He said he believed in me." Y/N let out a shaky breath. "It’s stupid. I’m being stupid. He is just a friend."

Violet shook her head. "It’s not stupid, Y/N." "It is," Y/N insisted. "Because at the end of the day, he still has a different girl in his bed every other night. And I’m just another cadet in his squad." Violet studied her best friend for a moment before sighing. "Look, I won’t pretend to know exactly what’s going on in Liam’s head, but I do know one thing—he cares about you. I see it. We all see it. And maybe, just maybe, he’s been waiting for you to see it, too."

Y/N shook her head. "And what if he hasn’t? What if I go to him and he laughs in my face? Or worse, what if he doesn’t even care?" Violet grabbed Y/N’s hand, squeezing it. "You’ll never know unless you try." Y/N hesitated, her heart hammering in her chest. And then, with a deep breath, she stood. "Okay. I’m going to talk to him."

By talking to Violet, she had found the courage to do something about it. To go to him. To knock on his door and tell him that she—The sight of him stopped her cold. Liam was leaning against his doorway, shirtless, his pale skin illuminated by the flickering hallway torches. And in front of him, pressed against his chest, was a girl.

Blonde, beautiful, draped in nothing but one of his shirts. His hands rested on her waist, his head dipping close as he whispered something that made her giggle softly. Y/N’s stomach twisted violently. She should move. She should run. But her legs refused to work. All she could do was stand there, helpless, as Liam’s lips found the girl’s neck, as she curled into him, as his door clicked shut behind them. And just like that, everything shattered.

A sharp inhale burned her lungs. She pressed her fingers against the cold stone wall, willing herself to breathe, to stay upright. But it was impossible, because the truth had never been clearer. It had never been her. Not really. She had let herself believe in something that was never hers to have. That she was somehow different. That the way he looked at her meant something. That she wasn’t just another girl who could be so easily forgotten in the morning.

Gods, she was an idiot. A broken laugh escaped her lips, bitter and self-deprecating. Of course this was how it would end. Of course she would be the fool who thought Liam Mairi could be anything other than what he was. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned on her heel, her vision blurring as she walked away. She would be fine. Eventually. But tonight, she let herself grieve the fantasy she had so stupidly let herself believe in.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Y/N spent the next week and a half avoiding Liam like the plague. She skipped meals when she knew he’d be in the dining hall, trained at odd hours to avoid crossing paths, and stuck close to Violet or Rhi whenever she had to be in the same room as him. But it was impossible to avoid him forever, especially when they were in the same squad. 

Liam noticed. At first, she thought he might not. He had enough distractions—flirtations, fights, responsibilities—to keep him occupied. But by the end of the second week, it was clear he had run out of patience. His stares had become more pointed, his usual teasing remarks absent, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

That evening, as she tried to slip out of the training hall before he could catch her, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, but she forced herself to stay rigid, unreadable. “Alright,” Liam’s voice was low, rough, tinged with irritation. “What the hell is going on?” Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she turned to face him. His piercing blue eyes bore into hers, full of confusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t name. Her pulse pounded, her instincts screaming at her to run, but his grip on her wrist—firm, steady—held her in place.

“Nothing,” she muttered, attempting to tug her hand away. He didn’t let go. “Bullshit.” His voice sharpened, his brows drawing together. “You’ve been avoiding me for days—weeks, actually. You barely look at me, you leave the second I walk into a room, and don’t even try to deny it because I see it every damn time. You won’t even spar with me anymore. What did I do?” His voice softened just slightly at the end, the frustration laced with something dangerously close to hurt, and that nearly broke her. But she refused to let him see how much this was tearing her apart.

Y/N clenched her jaw, anger bubbling up—not at him, but at herself. Anger for feeling this way. Anger for thinking she had been special. Anger for hoping. “You didn’t do anything, Liam,” she snapped, her own voice betraying the turmoil inside her. “That’s the problem.” His brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly as he tried to piece her words together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head. “It means I’m an idiot,” she bit out, her chest tightening with every word. “It means I let myself think—just for a second—that maybe you were different with me. That maybe I actually meant something to you.” Liam’s grip on her wrist slackened slightly, his expression shifting from frustration to something raw—something she couldn’t bear to see.

“Y/N—” “I saw you,” she cut him off, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. “That night. With that girl. And I felt like a fucking idiot because I actually thought—” She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head at herself. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Liam’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. And that silence, that hesitation, was worse than anything he could have said.

Her throat burned as she swallowed against the lump forming there. “I have feelings for you, Liam,” she admitted, the words barely more than a whisper. “And I hate myself for it.” Then, before he could say anything, before he could see the tears welling in her eyes, she yanked her wrist free and turned away, walking off before the weight of her own words could crush her completely.

[macknshift]

sophia jean "junior" lawrence . . . cobra kai.

THERE ARE SEVERAL UNIVERSAL TRUTHS. ONE IS THAT JUNIOR LAWRENCE IS UNLUCKY.

if she was lucky, she wouldn’t be living her life stressed out of her tiny little mind. she would be living life like sam larusso. she would be happy and functional and normal. instead, her dad is trying to live out his karate dreams with this guy that she met at school, (that she may or may not have a crush on,) and she feels this unease about all of it. she knows she’s not a fighter, but her dad really, really wants her to be. she’s a runner, and she’s damn good at it. it’s almost like it’s her dad’s fault.

2 YEARS LATER . . . and she’s still running. she hasn't picked up a lick of courage in her two years training in karate, and now her dad’s weirdo old sensei is back, and she feels like she’s literally spinning every time she sees miguel diaz. she’s not cobra kai. she never was, even with the championship title, and now she doesn’t feel like an ‘eagle fang’ either. it leaves her with a pain in her gut knowing that she’s not what anyone around her wants. she knows what she is, and her dad won't like it. noone will.

cobra kai → eagle fang → miyagi do. born 02/04/02. 5 foot 9. high school senior. twin of robby keene, daughter of johnny lawrence. 2019 all-valley girls champ. aquarius, infp, 6w5. best friend of demetri alexopoulos, "rival" of sam larusso.

soundtrack of my life . . . orange juice , noah kahan. nobody's soldier , hozier. idfc , blackbear. honest , the neighbourhood. come back for me , jaymes young. i bet on losing dogs , mitski.

SOME HOUSEKEEPING!

⤿ johnny is not an alcoholic idc. he took one look at himself when he started to drink and knew he didn't want to be like that for me. so u know. he was at one point (around the time i was born) but he got his shit in check when he remembered he had a kid to feed.

⤿ shannon took robby & johnny took me in this weird, fucked-up little "well we have two kids so one of us gets one and one gets the other" agreement. robby & i are aware of the others' existence but don't know any actual details about each other (like name, where they live, etc.)

⤿ i have to be very aware when i say that i made this dr when i was 18. i still choose to shift to it now as a 21 year old bc i want to, and i know ppl might have strong opinions on that, esp bc i do have miguel as my love interest, but i've been watching the show since i was 17, almost wrote a fanfic before discovering shifting (i might still write that fanfic!!) but you are open to feel any way about this. so. yeah. rlly only writing this bc shifttok has had fits w me in the past but whatever.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ posting this today bc it is robby and i's 23rd (crazy work) birthday!!! this is one of like. 4 drs my birthday isn't 1/29 so. had to post this in honor 😁😁 i looove this dr so dearly (and miguel, he's been my man since 2021...xolo maridueña HMU!!!!!) even though it's lowkey the most . . . complicated of my drs (aka i deal with a lot of shit & happen to be lowkey v unhappy for a bit of it LMFAOOOO) but i made it at 18 and i was not in a good place but i'm too attached to change anything ab it lol 😭😭 also i am lowkey serving lizzie young but that's beside the point

[winterzebra]

Yesss. I've been chewing on this constantly since the game release. And I bring up the game, because not a single character says a good thing to lllario's face! Which is wild. Teia opposed Lucanis with her - "he is a good assassin" - in one and only specific dialogue option, and when Illario has already left.

And if you don't romance Lucanis, he says - "my cousin got all the charm" - in a pie for Neve scene. But Rook's default response is something like - "did he though?". I wanted to smack my own character for the first time. WTF??? Please shut up maybe? Illario is a charming person just not in a sweet way, if that makes any sense.

Well, Viago said - "forget revenge, we need you" - looking at Rook and Illario. Lucanis was more to the right in the scene, so Vi wasn't talking to him at the moment in my opinion. That's why I am always so confused when I see posts about Teia and Viago hating Illario. Like what do you mean? Viago was so pissed because - "antaam on the one side and the venatori on the other" - which he said loud and clear early in the game. Did you know that Treviso would be free btw? It was the worst timing for a power grabbing shenanigans. And Teia clearly spent a lot of time thinking about Caterina's death. She was her nonna! Of course, Teia was mad and called Illario a traitor during the fight.

The storyline where Lucanis thinks a lot about Illario, but doesn't show it to him, made it to the game straight from the TWJ. I agree. It is so painful. I hate it and love it at the same time.

Illario put his hand on Lucanis's shoulder as a greeting after a YEAR apart. What did Lucanis do? Put his hand away after touching it for a mere second, he was focused on Caterina, on the job. I almost cried. Although I understand that it was enough from Lucanis's point of view, that he showed his affection.

I can see this rivalry sibling energy thing. I'm just hurt on Illario's behalf. And I believe that this betrayal was inevitable. Illario was just strong enough to delay it for so long.

Damn, Lucanis admitted that Illario was his only friend only when Rook said it out loud and only if Illario was forgiven. I mean, was it the first time he said something like that? I think so.

And the fight banter? The "you used to be somebody" and "and you never were". Boys, why do you want me to die from a heartbreak?

I shutter into a million pieces when I think about all this.

looking back through my notes on the wigmaker job (TWJ) and if im gonna be so honest, i would've crashed out way harder than illario. the disparity between what lucanis thinks of his cousin and how he talks to him is INSANE. lucanis speaks to him with this cutting back-and-forth that you see in those sibling rivalry dynamics, but he thinks of illario so fondly! never says it! (he does this in veilguard too; the way lucanis speaks about illario to the team is CRAZY.)

and, i'll be honest, never shows it. the disregard he gives illario throughout TWJ is... astounding. he appreciates illario's skill and their relationship but consistently undermines him, leaves him out of the plan, and expects him to roll with it without complaint. lucanis gets away with changing the contracts, being a revolutionary in his own way, doing all of this because he is caterina's favorite--and they both know it. illario would not be able to get away with half of the things that lucanis does.

and they both know caterina want him as the first talon! i just... there's such a lack of respect and a disregard for illario despite the deep-running family ties between them. if lucanis had been able to be open with illario or say no to caterina... but he couldn't, and he wouldn't, and now look at where they are. idk. illario loved him and wanted to get him out in his own way (if you believe he was being honest about that). idk if lucanis would ever be able to bring himself to say the same. for all the freedom he was delusionally trying to offer others he seems very content denying it to those already in the system.

[makeyoumine69]

Hello dear people in my beloved American Psycho fandom! I couldn't force myself to write this post because I didn't know how to do it, but I think now is the right time. I promised myself not to bring personal stuff into my writing, but since one thing affects another, I think I should finally speak up.

This year started pretty bad for me, I was suffering from a huge apathy and my mental health was probably in the worst state in the last few years. I had to cut ties with a lot of people and distance myself, and I'm really sorry for doing that, but I had no choice because I was literally dying from the inside. When I came back to Tumblr in 2022, I was absolutely alone and I had no friends, no followers and in some ways I felt calm and peaceful. I always thought and probably still think that I should be alone and isolated from everyone, like a soulless writing machine just producing fanfictions for people to consume. Maybe this is not a bad thing, because interacting with people always carries the risk of getting bruised?

Anyway, the thing that broke me completely was the news I received in the last days of January that I would be fired in February because my company decided to close the project I was working on due to the high inflation and bad economic situation in Russia. So now I have to find a job within February because I have a lot of financial responsobilities like paying for the medical treatment my family is getting. My grandmother was diagnosed with kidney cancer and her surgery was paid for by me and my fiancé, but the medicine costs a lot, so… after I told my mom about my news, she blamed me for everything. I was not really surprised though, considering that I have been having fights with my whole family for the past few months over different topics, but mostly they hate me for my political opinions. Whenever I say that I am tired of the war, sanctions and all the other stuff that 2022 has brought, they call me a fucking traitor. My family is ready to cancel me just because I told them I was tired of living in isolation, that I had even forgotten what my life was like before the war. My fiancé is literally the only person in my family who supports me, and even though I'm going to lose my job, he told me he would do anything for me, for us, but I don't want to be a burden. I'm really scared about the future, I think I really am now.

So, I'm sorry for not finishing the Christmas fics I promised to post, I'll try to finish them soon. Also, I'm sorry for not being active with fulfilling the requests and replying to your asks. I'm really sorry. And I know some of you might think that why I keep writing new series and working on different stuff while I have WIPs I need to finish—I'm just trying to follow my muse and I can say that it's really unstable these days, but I'm really trying to do my best and deliver something good for all of you!

I also want to thank all of you who have supported me with your donations! It means the world to me! Unfortunately, my account on the platform I was using for donations has been suspended because of… DOLLARS! They think I'm a scammer or something because the dollar is such a cursed currency in Russia right now, so I don't know if they'll unban my account, I hope they will.

Okay, that was longer than I thought it would be. To end this crazy rant, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with me no matter how fucked up I might be! I believe that one day I will find my way back to myself so that I can come back strong and refreshed!

[haithhegimp]

Jason Todd is Mentally Sixteen During Under The Red Hood*

(The overly long introduction is all in brackets! You will not experience too much confusion should you choose to skip, so feel free to skip. The content of the post will be under the cut.

*As always with the DCU, consistency is far more dead than the Waynes could ever be. This post is about Jason's timeline from UTRH, and only UTRH. I will use a couple of sources from other places for information we cannot confirm from UTRH, but can vaguely be assume are true there. However I will not be talking about the timelines from other media, and especially not other continuities, in this post. I will also be interpreting certain scenes, and that ultimately makes this post somewhat subjective.

I love UTRH a lot, and I found that most other Jason fans love it too. We often use it as a major content source and base a lot of our opinions and feelings surrounding Jason on it. However, in hyperfixating and re-reading it several times over, I have realised that a lot of us miss a major detail that gets exposition-ed to us in Chapter 14/[Batman(1940) Annual #25]!

Of course, if you've come to the same conclusions as I have, and choose to ignore them, then absolutely more power to you. I'm not here to police which canon you folks choose to stitch together and treat as your own, if you choose to interact with canon at all. These are all just comics, have fun!

On top of that, it sometimes gets vague and up to interpretation (which is honestly an aspect I kind of like) so this can all be considered my own opinion if you personally disagree with an interpretation I make <3

Anyways, a lot of us enjoy the angst factor that comes out of Jason being young, but not many of us realise exactly how young he is. This is something I wish to explain to you folks for your content consumption pleasure ^^

Overly long introduction done, yo!)

1. Jason dies at 15 years old.

I am so sorry, I could not find a primary source for this.

Secondary Source A- Word of mouth. Various different Tumblr and Reddit posts I have found when looking this up have listed Jason as being 15 when he dies. Including this post from @thebatmanfiles-blog, this post from @fuckyeahjasontodd, this post from @oh-mother-of-darkness, and these posts from u/GooderCand and u/InDarknessOftFindI

Secondary Source B- Jason's death certificate from [The Batman Files]

Not to be mistaken for [Batman Secret Files], Matthew K. Manning's [The Batman Files] is not a canon DC property work, to my knowledge. (It's honestly kind of confusing, but I'm listing this as a secondary source because I am... pretty sure that [The Batman Files] is not a canon DC property, it is not available on the DC Database Fanwiki or the Official DC Website).

2. Jason Is Revived Six Months After His Death

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25] *(This is just a fun fact, feel free to skip. The page of Jason being alive is taken directly from the, at the time unreleased, [Batman #428: Robin Lives!], with only being slightly recoloured. Due to the gimmick of Jason's death, [Batman (1940) #428] had two different versions drawn out, and though I wasn't able to find any interviews or comments about this on shallow research, it's nice to imagine that the producers of UTRH wanted to showcase Aparo and DeCarlo's unseen efforts ^^)

Jason was originally supposed to live (according to the narration)-- we can use this to say that his injuries (by comic book logic) were non-fatal.

Jason, in his coffin, is shown with the same injuries as his dying-but-not-supposed-to-die-body-- we can use this to say he is biologically 15 when revived.

After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 15.5 Jason's Biological Age- 15 Jason's Mental Age- 15

3. Jason Gets Into A Coma For One Year

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]

After digging himself out of the grave, Jason is hit by a car (man, he cannot catch a break)

He is hospitalized and operated on, before going into a coma for One Year

General-Comic-Book-Logic and Actual Research (I sincerely apologize but I'm not looking through genuine medical documents to verify this one, I'm just gonna trust the basic google search) both agree that coma patients do not mentally age

This means Jason's mental age stagnates for One Year

One Year After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 16.5 Jason's Biological Age- 16 Jason's Mental Age- 15

4. Jason Spends Two Years Catatonic*

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25] *The original describes this state as Jason being run by his instincts, without reason, clarity, or memory. Fans have labeled this as catatonia. I will be referring to this state as catatonia for convenience sake.

Jason wakes up from his coma, but is catatonic

He spends One Year being homeless and living off of instincts (man, he CANNOT catch a break)

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]

An international game of telephone occurs when a thug sees Jason doing some Robin moves

The Al Ghul's are at the end of the line and kidnap Jason

They keep him, in his catatonic state, for One Year

It is unclear, at this point, whether Jason's catatonia has impaired his mental aging

Three Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 18.5 Jason's Biological Age- 18 Jason's Mental Age- ???

5. Jason Gets Dunked Into The Lazarus Pit

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]

Here is where my interpretation comes in,

Jason's first words upon leaving the Pit are ["What!? What is happening to me!?"]

Jason, while running away with Talia asks, ["Talia?! What the hell do you-- Where was--!"]

Both of these show Jason being confused about his situation, and unsure of his surroundings. Especially the confusion in ["Talia?!"] means that he is surprised/confused to see her.

All of this goes to say-- he doesn't have any memory of how he came to be in this situation, and he doesn't have any memory of his time being catatonic.

HOWEVER!!! The possible counter-argument is that during his remembering sequence, Talia is a figure on screen, which has the mild implication that she is something he remembers?? This contradicts my interpretation but also has less evidence.

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]

Jason remembers his death and the events leading up to it, but there is no mention of whether or not he remembers his years being catatonic.

I interpret this as him not remembering.

With My Interpretations, Three Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 18.5 Jason's Biological Age- 18 Jason's Mental Age- 15

6. Jason Prepares For Being Red Hood

[Under The Red Hood #14] / [Batman (1940) Annual #25]

We get that... and then the BTS of Hush. That's literally all we get.

It's so unclear, I'm sorry it's really sort of impossible to give you even a vague estimate of how much time passes.

I've been trying to comb through the rest of UTRH to find things but we only get clear time stamps after Jason's debut as Red Hood. (i may have missed something, though! feel free to lmk if youve found a time stamp in UTRH before Jason's debut)

I only have my personal thoughts that it was probably a year or less between this and Jason's debut.

For the purposes of this post, we'll just say that roughly a year passes with training and preparation.

7. Jason Debuts As Red Hood

[Under The Red Hood #1] / [Batman (1940) #635]

So, at the start of Under The Red Hood, Four-ish Years After Revival Jason's Chronological Age- 19 - 20 Jason's Biological Age- 19 Jason's Mental Age- 16

And alternatively, if you mentally age him during his catatonic era, Jason's (alt) Mental Age- 18

(Now it is time for the Overly Long Conclusion! These will just be more of my personal thoughts and comments, and will be within brackets as well ^^

Honestly, despite me piecing this version of canon together, I don't usually subscribe to it lol. I find UTRH Jason attractive, and canon is what you choose to Frankenstein together, so I usually place him as actually around 19.

But if you consider the events of UTRH through the lense of a deeply traumatized and angsty teenager, that happens to have way too much power? It feels... oddly logical? Like, through this perspective, I look at Jason telling Bruce that he's the better Batman in quite possibly the most dramatic way ever and I go, "Oh of course he would, he's sixteen. I would say shit like that at sixteen if I had even half the baggage."

TBH, I don't think that Winnick actually considered this timeline when writing UTRH Jason, but it fits together really funnily well with his character.

It also makes everything quite a lot more tragic. With this perspective, its more than just losing his teenagehood to shitty circumstances. He is actively and presently still a teenager, a child, when in shitty circumstances. Jason is a sixteen year old child when his father slits his throat.

Actual For Realsies Not Just By Technicality Teenage Crime Lord is absolutely insane, deeply tragic, and more than a little bit funny to me.

If you read through all of this, I'd absolutely love to hear your thoughts and perspectives. Whether you see where I'm coming from, whether you have a completely different perspective, or whether you like thinking of this only sometimes! Hell, even if it's just to cry with me over The Tragedy of Jason Todd, I'd love to chat.

Thank you for your time, if you made it all the way through! Overly Long Conclusion done, yo!)

[My Drawing, lol]

[ai-art-thieves]

they're calling us ableist for pointing out ai art XD

Ok. Let me understand what's going on here

You try to alert someone about this, but it didn't go too well and now rjalker is demanding for a witchhunt for anyone that goes against crippled-peeper.

And I thought shit like this only happens on twitter....

Might as well clear my name and debunk the claims present here.

To clarify, transmisic is not a misspelling of transmisogynic. It is another word for "transphobic".

First of all, I had never interacted with crippled-peeper before I got the tip from anon. At all.

I never even heard of that user before in my life.

I probably bet that the users that rjalker claim to be ableist or transmisic have never heard of or interacted with crippled-peeper either.

Next point:

Let me answer rjalker's question with a question. Have you ever seen JPEG artifacts before?

And, more specifically, do you know the difference between ai pixel art and regular pixel art?

The fact that it don't show evidence/proof that the icon is not ai generated and shows examples of jpeg artifacting clearly shows that its post is a reactionary response. (I know this sentence structure sounds kind of weird, but I'm trying my best with the pronouns that I have been provided.)

Luckily, I can debunk that claim right away because I am quite familiar with pixel art myself.

I have done my fair share of sprite edits.

And before this user claims that I'm stealing another person's art, no. I am not. My main account is @magicalmysteryperson, and here is the proof.

Here's links to the pieces as well.

Now, with that out of the way, allow me to prove why rjalker's claims make no sense.

By redrawing the image from scratch. Here's the image.

here's the original, for reference

Already something is amiss.

There are a whole bunch of varying line weights and splotches that are considered by most sprite artists as serious faux pas.

Some parts of the image are blending with each other.

The gradients with both the floor and the wall are way too smooth for an image like this.

And the small leaves on the soil are an extremely big give away that the image was ai generated.

I am not demonizing the person for ai generating their icon.

Yes, ai art is bad, but some people do use it, even disabled artists.

I'm not going to demonize someone just because they play with that tool.

It's the dishonesty that is the main issue here.

Remember: their story behind this icon was that they made it over three years ago.

And their stance on AI on September 25th, 2024:

However, the claim that they made the image over three years ago is put into question when in 2021, 2022, and 2023, they had various other icons... as well as using ai art constantly.

The images in the latter two screenshots have not been archived by the wayback machine, and these posts have been scrubbed by the user. Again, everything prior to 2023 is scrubbed from the account.

I will also do what rjalker did and provide wayback machine links. here, and here, and here, and especially here.

Now, let's tackle the second claim: "It's JPEG compression".

Here's both the png and the jpeg files of the plant I drew.

Note that with the jpeg compression, you can also see that even though the image looks softer, there is still a form of pixelation. It's still made up of little squares, not rounded splotches.

You can simply look up "compression artifacts" and find that what's going on in crippled-peeper's image is not the result of jpeg compression artifacting.

If you want to see what my image looks like in a bigger form, here you go.

I have also did numerous forms of jpeg compression to see if I could replicate what crippled-peeper did.

I wasn't able to.

I just got more cronch and more pixels.

And before rjalker claims that the icon was an ai upscale of a jpeg...

I upscaled my own images on various sites to check if that claim even had any legs to stand on.

While some of the effects were present, it wasn't enough for me to replicate what crippled-peeper did unless I made the same thing with an ai image generator.

Until crippled-peeper has proof that the image was made over three years ago and made on a tablet in the hospital, the allegations presented here stand.

And please, do not harass rjalker.

I get that it made a post that, while it had the best intentions, was poorly researched and reactionary.

But I don't want that post to ruin its life.

I want that post to be used as a teachable moment.

To think before you type or post.

Don't let your gut control you. Just stop and think.

You don't want to post a call out post that completely backfires and hits you instead.

Not that it matters, they already blocked me.

[mrs-starkgaryen]

Well, well, well, dissecting time just so I can remind Maggie that I am in her walls (thanks you've passed your illness onto me)

1. "Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado."

A) Even at home, she's dreaming/ thinking about the stars (Hollywood stars)

2. "It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone."

A) Don't worry baby girl, Aegon is gonna make you finish in front of him and I'll you'll love it

3. Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”

A) we all are Mason, shut up

4. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”

A) well I didn't like that foreshadowing

B) she's gonna get close to Aegon and we know he's a messed up man 😭

C) I'll she'll still love him though

5. “And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies."

A) Or when Aegon dies...

B) Maggie, are you in my walls? This is my family 😭

6. “Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless."

A) mother? What you doing here, loca?

B) how Sunshine is so sunny, idk. I guess you have to have rain to appreciate the sun

C) no wonder she think she needs plastic surgery- not just for Hollywood but she probably feels like she needs to live up to her parents expectations somehow (cuz she feels like she is disappointing them with her choice of job?)

7. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.

A) Sunshines reminder that social media is fake lmao

B) but this is a mood- it gives crying whilst doing a thumbs up picture 😭👍🤳

Also those dogs? I love dogs but these ones are scary! The family and the dogs seem to hate her?! My God. Are they picking up on the family hostility to her?

If they don't shape up, unlike the bats- I won't mind if Jace steps on one of these.. (jk)

8. A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy

A) Aegon ever heard of playing it cool?

B) damn he's down bad

9. You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you."

A) oh an old man, imagine if he meant Aegon-

B) HE DID! Mf ain't old

C) I also squealed like she did when I recognised the shoes 🥰

10. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.

A) and if I say 👀

B) foreshadowing...

C) also hello Simon Bassett from Bridgerton?

11. “Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”

A) for now Aegon...

B) He will show her the different flavours

C) also could symbolise that she is kinda naive and then as the story progresses- she's not so sweet anymore 😀

13. “It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”

A) said every man ever 😉😂

B) ooh will she be in season 56, episode 28?

14. “Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—..... that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”

A) did he have to do something to make people (or him) like himself more?

B) omg did his dad make or encourage his siblings/ family to change to become more famous, to carry on his legacy in Hollywood? Did Aemond try and change himself and now he's took a step back into scriptwriting cuz atleast then he can control his own story?

C) she's gonna lose or nearly lose her humanity in this industry, I can see it. It's gonna break her down and then Aegon and her have feel better sex..

15. “Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.

A).... need I say more

16. “The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”

A) you're killing me

B) she's gonna like riding this horse 😭 (I'll let myself out)

17. His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”

A) either becca is crazy

B) or his family are and they'll update becca

C) or both. Like I said before- maybe they set him up wirh becca to calm him down, to make him (the targaryens) look good in the papers

18. “I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”

A) a possible other nickname?

B) all her nicknames are cute and sunny, like her until this industry snuffs it out 😀

19. Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.

A) This whole thing felt like a summary for the story

B) at first she's whisked away in a world of Hollywood: glitter and glammer. She's "full of blind naive surety"..

C) Then it's she's less so but she still tries to be optimistic? As she realises this is not what she signed up for

D) husband is dead, Aegon is dead? Then she's full of rage

E) under artificial light? The Hollywood spotlight..

F) she starts to give them her body (plastic surgery), her mind (she starts to doubt and panic in fame) and then her soul (Hollywood kills her optimism and dream)

Also- Are the eyeshadows representing things?

A) In the first chapter she had shimmery, pink, warm brown eyeshadow (showing that she is warm, positive and sparkling with a dream, it's all new).

B) when she's with Mason, it's sparkly black. Like she's not 100% with him but that's okay because she still has her dream that she's gonna be able to be an actress and subconsciously be with someone better...

C) in the ice cream shop, she has bright pink- so bright in optimism still and pink meaning flirtatious feelings for Aegon?

Idk, all this is my crazy mind and I love whatever you come out with!

A Curse [Chapter 2: Harbor Gateway]

A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome you have given this series!!! I am sick with bronchitis currently so this has been a big bright spot in an otherwise miserable week 😅 I can't wait to show you where this story is going, I hope you're ready for it 🥰💜

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, a tiny bit of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, ice cream, judgmental parents, aggressive Akitas, we're literally in Minnesota!!!

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado. On the other side of the glass is inky Minnesota night, a full moon dissolving away, glowing freckles of constellations. You’re staying with your parents and Mason has roommates, so the truck was the expedient choice. It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone.

Mason glances down at the used condom on the floor of his Silverado, hastily discarded, viscerally slick in a way that becomes sickening in the letdown, as the endorphins and the adrenaline slip away and the blood pumps slow and unclouded. He smirks as he asks: “You sure you don’t want to get back on the pill?”

You sigh, drawing another star. You are still naked and sprawled across the back seat, glistening with sweat in the moonlight. “Well I tried three different prescriptions and had three miserable experiences, and I’m really not interested in playing side effect roulette again. And I can’t risk my skin going insane and random bleeding when I’m running around all over L.A. trying to get parts.”

“What about that little sperm assassin T-shaped thing?”

You look at him. “An IUD?”

“Yeah.”

You wince, engraving another star into the steam on the window. “I don’t think I like the idea of having a piece of metal shoved up inside me.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get silicone implants?”

You shrug; you can’t deny the irony. “I don’t need an IUD to be an actress.”

“Look, I’m not complaining about the tits thing,” Mason says, holding up his hands. “Obviously I’d enjoy them too. And you’d still have them when you move home, so it’s not a waste even if the acting thing doesn’t work out.”

You already know he feels this way, and yet still, it hurts. “When I move home?”

He smiles and crawls back on top of you, his Carleton College hoodie whispering against your belly and chest, soft royal blue cotton on damp skin. He had been a Political Science and International Relations major who took Theater Arts 195: Acting Shakespeare for an arts credit. He was beyond terrible and had no appreciation for the field whatsoever, but he was tall and strong and jolly, an earnest corn-fed Midwestern boy, and when one day after class he’d asked if he could take you to Culver’s for a burger and frozen custard, you’d said yes.

Here and now, in the back seat of his Chevy Silverado, Mason kisses your forehead. Then he ghosts his thumb over the ridge of your orbital socket and cheekbone, where your dark glittery eyeshadow has smudged like a spreading bruise: Galaxy by Anastasia Beverly Hills, Elysian by Natasha Denona. “I’m not saying you aren’t good. But how many people on this planet get to be movie stars? It’s just not realistic. And it’s about so much more than talent. It’s about who you know, and luck, and chemistry, and looks, and a bunch of other things that are mostly out of your control. You’re never going to be the type of girl who’s an influencer or winning Miss America, you’re just not. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t very, very pretty. And I loved you anyway.”

Loved, past tense. You and Mason stopped using that word a year ago; now the nostalgia is painting memories like the walls of an old house. His memories, anyway. You sit up and start yanking on your clothes: oversized yellow Santa Monica crewneck, black sweatpants with elastic cuffs at the ankles. “I think I’m going to get the gummy bear implants.”

Mason licks his lips. “Yum.”

“They’re a type of silicone, but they’re supposed to feel more natural and be less dangerous if they rupture.”

“Will you have scars?” he says as if the notion has just occurred to him, troubled, perhaps a little revolted.

“Well yeah, they have to end up under my skin somehow.”

Mason shudders, then he has another thought. “Who’s going to take care of you after surgery when you’re all sore and zonked out on opioids?”

“My roommate Baela said she would. She’s had friends who have gone through it already.”

“Okay, good. I wouldn’t want you to be alone out there.” Mason touches the back of your head, a quick fond gesture. He’s the only man you’ve ever been with, and even that took a while, months of trying to envision him undressing you before you were sure you could do it without flinching, without being afraid or shy or bewildered. But in the end it had been easy, always easy, which is why you keep coming back to him like a comet. Your elliptical orbit takes you far away and then close again, and such natural patterns are effortless to keep.

You say, the edges of your lips curling into a furtive smile: “I’m definitely not alone.”

Mason groans. “You’re going to hook up with that new agent guy, aren’t you?”

“What? No! No way, he has a fiancée.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s more amused than annoyed. “Okay, whatever.”

“You know I don’t date anyone.” Which is why each time you’re home visiting, Mason gets a text: Want to get lunch at Culver’s? or Can you drive me to Target? or Pick me up around 9 p.m.?

Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”

“I’m just grateful. Someone finally gave me a chance.” You look to the window; the steam and your hand-drawn stars have evaporated away. “And yeah, he’s interesting and he’s cute, and he’s kind of mean but then unexpectedly caring sometimes, and I think he’s one of those people who are really good at what they do but only when they’re inspired…but that doesn’t mean I’m into him romantically.” A pause. “And even if I was, there’s no harm in a super-secret, one-sided crush.”

“Okay. Have fun with all the adulterous sex.”

You chuckle. “Thanks, but that is not the plan.” You slip on your flip-flops, shimmy out of the back seat, and trot around the Silverado to the passenger’s door. Mason climbs into the driver’s seat and turns his key in the ignition. You ask: “What happened to that ballerina girl who was in your Instagram stories for a while?”

“Had to ghost her, she got super clingy and controlling. She was texting me at work all the time and got pissed off when I was putting a ton of hours into that election thing for CNN.” Mason is a political analyst. He turns to you. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”

“I think people are wonderful. You just have to find the ones you click with.”

“I should have figured you’d say something like that.” He steers his truck out of the otherwise empty parking lot in Lac Lavon Park. “I’m looking forward to you being home again.”

“I’m not.”

You both laugh, and then Mason drives you to your parents’ house.

At the dining room table, Mom and Clara are researching wedding venues, vast countryside estates and metropolitan historic hotels. Clara got engaged two weeks ago during a vacation to Turks and Caicos. In the living room, Dad and Tripp are watching commentary on the NBA Finals. Tripp’s name isn’t really Tripp; he is the third James in a row, named after your father and grandfather, and Tripp is short for triple. All over the house, there are Akitas lolling in plush dog beds and clicking around on Brazilian Cherry hardwood floors. They have faces like teddy bears, but their dark eyes track you mistrustfully, as if you are an intruder.

No one asks where you have been. They barely acknowledge that you are back. “Hello, dear,” your mother calls distractedly from the dining room, and that’s all. You jog upstairs to the bathroom you share with Clara before anyone can notice your smeared makeup and the unsavory post-car-sex sweat gleaming on your skin. You get into the shower, turn on water so hot it is nearly scalding, and close your eyes. With your back pressed to the jade green tiles, your hand wanders down over your belly and stops between your legs. Your mind cycles through fantasies, but nothing seems to be working.

It’s not real. It can’t hurt anybody.

You imagine that Aegon is the one touching you, and in under a minute it’s over.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I want there to be horses,” Clara says, scrolling through her phone and ignoring the food on her plate: roast chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans sauteed in garlic and olive oil, panzanella salad. Mom prepared it all herself, not because there was no help available—your parents have a housekeeper named Angela who comes by several days per week—but to prove she could. In the living room are shelves heavy with books by Martha Stewart, Ina Garten, Cat Cora, Julia Child, Nigella Lawson. You hear echoes of ambient clicking, Akitas meandering down hallways and staircases.

“Horses?!” Tripp replies with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Don’t you get enough horses in your everyday life? Don’t you have like five right out there?” Your parents’ house sits on ten acres of land, including a barn and several paddocks for Clara’s rescued Thoroughbreds.

“I want beautiful horses,” Clara insists. “Unusual, photogenic, so they can be in the background of all the photos. Maybe Friesians or Haflingers?”

“I’m not sure we can sort the venues by types of horses available, dear,” Mom says. All that’s on her own plate is a heap of green beans and a few pieces of skinless white meat chicken.

Clara moans and drops her face into her hands. “It’s so overwhelming!”

“You’ll find a place you like, Clara Bear,” Dad says mildly, painstakingly slicing meat off a drumstick with his fork and knife.

“And Owen is no help at all. Every time I ask for his opinion he just tells me to do whatever I think is best, but I don’t know what’s best, that’s why I’m asking him!”

Your mother pats Clara’s shoulder reassuringly. “Guys don’t care about weddings,” Tripp says, twisting around in his chair to see the television in the living room. On a rerun of E! News, the hosts are discussing Chris Hemsworth’s rigorous fitness regime and Meghan Trainor’s “mommy makeover.” You peek under the tablecloth. One of the Akitas, Yuki, is glaring as she waits for you to drop something for her to eat.

“You could do something like that,” Mom says to you, and you realize you haven’t been listening to the conversation.

“Sorry, do what?”

“You could be a wedding planner or a real estate agent. Those are actual careers, but there’s more creativity involved, isn’t there? And didn’t you take a design class in college? That would certainly come in handy.”

“Hm,” your father says with a frown, still dissecting his chicken. He would rather you go to law school like Tripp. You would rather lie down in traffic.

“I took a set design class, Mom. Because I was studying how to be an actress. And that’s what I’m doing right now in Los Angeles, trying to be an actress.”

“You could become an architect!” Mom bursts out with sudden enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You titter evasively. “I can’t draw, Mom. Or use the modeling software, or do math.”

“You know, you don’t need any specific degree to get into law school,” Tripp says, and your father gives him a nod of approval. “You could have majored in dance or bagpiping or Egyptology, it doesn’t matter. All they want is a high undergrad GPA and a 168+ LSAT score, and I bet you could get that if you studied. You can even retake the test a few times if you need to.”

“Why do you do that?” Clara snaps at him. You eat your panzanella salad and pretend not to be listening. Beneath the tablecloth, Yuki growls. You toss her a few cubes of Italian bread so she won’t bite you.

Tripp shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Do what?”

“Why are you always wasting your time trying to convince her to grow up and get a real job? If she wants to embarrass herself, let her. I have problems that I’m trying to solve, so how about applying yourself to those instead?”

“Are you serious? You think I should be calling around to wedding venues asking about their selection of exotic draft horses?”

Clara aggressively stabs at her green beans with her fork. “Fuck off, Tripp.”

“Hey, hey, kids, no swearing,” your mother says. “It’s Father’s Day. Be respectful.”

Dad turns to you. “You could be an entertainment lawyer, how about that? You could work in intellectual property or negotiating contracts.”

You smile warily. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”

Clara says to your parents: “Well I hope all the money you’re throwing out the window to support her in California isn’t coming out of my wedding fund.”

You close your eyes and think: I can’t spend my life in a cubical. I can’t spend every minute of every day trying to forget who I am.

“Shh, shh,” your mother pleads, rubbing the back of Clara’s clenched hand. “You will get exactly what we promised you, that amount is still set aside for your wedding. Nothing she does affects you.”

“And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies.

Your father is now asking Tripp about his summer associate position at Latham & Watkins in Chicago. Your mother is advising Clara to get a wedding dress with a corset back so it can be adjusted in the event she gains or loses weight at the last minute. Underneath the table, Yuki is growling again; she noses your knees threateningly.

“I got an agent,” you say, and everyone looks at you.

“Really?” Mom asks, sounding a little perplexed.

“Who is it?” Dad says.

“Aegon Targaryen. He has a small office in Elysian Park.”

“Oh, I think I recognize the last name.”

“His family is in the industry.” You are beaming; you can feel the heat rising in your face. “But Aegon kind of does his own thing and tries to stay out of the limelight. He was an actor when he was my age. And I guess he thinks I can get roles, so that’s really exciting.”

Your mother seems concerned as she nibbles at a shred of white meat. “Is he an older man?”

“Not that much older. He’s thirty-five.”

“Well, be careful, darling,” your father says gravely. “Who knows what his intentions are.”

Clara evidently agrees. “Men can be so creepy. I had this one professor in pharmacy school who cheated on his wife with one student, then cheated on her six months later with a different student. And then he retired to Boca Raton and was never heard from again.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Tripp says to your father. “We read about Clinton v. Jones in torts class, it was wild, I didn’t know he was such a freak even before the Monica Lewinsky thing…”

After dinner, while your father and Tripp are flipping through television channels in the living room and Clara is upstairs on the phone with Owen, you go to the kitchen where your mother is washing dishes in a bubble-filled sink. Again, she doesn’t have to do this; Angela will be here to clean the house tomorrow. But it’s part of being a perfect homemaker, and if she’s not good at this then she’s not good at anything.

She glances over when she hears you come in. “Did you get an appointment with one of the doctors your father recommended?”

“I did, yeah. I have a consultation on Friday.” You lean against the marble countertop and cross your arms so you don’t fidget nervously. From a dog bed on the floor, Mochi glowers at you. “Do you think I should get the surgery?”

She shrugs; you’re not certain if she is more indecisive or apathetic. “Your cousin Madison had a nose job the summer before college. Your old classmate Emma got a blepharoplasty and then met her husband three months later. Practically all of my friends have had breast augmentations, and I’ve certainly never regretted mine. I think if you’re going to get anything fixed, it makes sense to pick that.”

You try again to elicit a strong opinion, whether an endorsement or objection. “I don’t think I’d want to do it if I didn’t feel like it was necessary to be an actress.”

“Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless.”

You stare at Mochi distractedly. The dog huffs, unwelcoming. “What was the recovery like?”

“Oh, hell,” your mother says. “But once you heal up it’s worth it. I can wear square necklines and strapless dresses again.”

“Technically, you could have worn whatever you wanted.”

She gives you an impatient look, a you’re too old for that sort of frustration. “No one wants to see some sad flabby woman.” She is including your father in this statement. You remember being home for Thanksgiving Break during your freshman year at Carleton and inadvertently stumbling upon emails from one of the hospital interns when you used his laptop to buy movie tickets: indecent inuendoes, flirtatious photos, no smoking gun but certainly more than was appropriate between colleagues. You had tried to tell your mother, and she had deflected over and over again until you realized that she didn’t want to know; it was easier to be carried by the currents of momentum than to rock the boat until it sank. “This agent of yours…is he celebrating Father’s Day with his family?”

“No, Aegon lost his dad when he was in college.”

“That must have been difficult,” she says vaguely as she scrubs a pot with a green Scotch-Brite dish wand. Your parents are now at the age when their friends have begun to succumb to strokes and heart disease and cancers, and the lurking specter of mortality both horrifies and fascinates them. “What did he die of?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Mom?!” Clara shouts from upstairs. “Osaka is puking in the hallway!”

Your mother sighs and dries her hands on a dish towel, then leaves you alone in the kitchen. You linger there for a while, listening to the faint drone of CNN from the living room television, then leave the house through the sliding glass door in the dining room. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.

A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy

You laugh and respond: They belong to my sister, I am personally very anti-horse

You hope he’ll continue the conversation. You don’t have to wait long. How’s Minnesota? Aegon asks.

You stop and consider how to answer, then decide not to overshare. Devoid of palm trees…but good!

There is a pause—perhaps thirty seconds—and then Aegon types: How’s the ex-boyfriend?

Is he curious or jealous? You smile. Still not standing in the way of anything :)

Aegon reacts with a heart emoji, then immediately switches it to a thumbs-up. You cannot ignore the wave of warmth and fondness and exhilaration that overwhelms you. Logically, you know he’s engaged to another woman. Emotionally, it doesn’t seem relevant.

You think: It’s just a crush. It can’t hurt anybody.

Then you remember what your mother asked, and as you stand outside in the fading dusk light you Google Aegon’s father Viserys Targaryen. He has his own Wikipedia page. You scroll to the bottom, where it reads in nondescript black letters: On October 27, 2009, Targaryen passed away at his Malibu residence after a long illness.

~~~~~~~~~~

You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you.”

“What?” You look towards the ice cream freezer and there he is, dark jeans, green Nike Killshots, a yellow Hawaiian shirt that’s too big for him. “It’s my agent!” you shout as you rush over to meet him, loud enough that everyone in the shop turns to stare.

“Shh,” Aegon says, but he’s laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you ask from behind the counter.

“I got some good news, and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Cool! Should I make you ice cream first?”

“Um, sure.” Aegon surveys the menu of Signature Creations. He seems overwhelmed; he actually looks a little panicked.

“Are you usually a chocolate or vanilla person? Or peanut butter, or coffee? Or mint?”

“Strawberry,” Aegon says.

“Strawberry,” you echo, surprised. “Okay, I think you’ll like Our Strawberry Blonde.”

“Neat.”

“Because, you know, it has strawberries and you’re blonde.”

“Sounds literally perfect for me,” Aegon says, smiling.

“What size?”

“Uh…” He reads the labels on the cups in the display case. “The big one.”

“No, you have to say the real name.”

He chuckles. His cheeks are pink, his turbulent blue eyes sparkling. “I’m not saying that.”

“Then I’m not making you ice cream!”

He groans. “I want an Our Strawberry Blonde in the size Gotta Have It.”

“Cup, cone, or waffle cone bowl?”

“Stop asking me questions or you’re fired.”

“Waffle cone bowl,” you decide. Aegon studies you as you work, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side: scraping a mound of strawberry ice cream out of the freezer with your metal spatulas, taking it to the cold countertop, and smashing in graham cracker pie crust, caramel, fluffy whipped topping, and fresh strawberries. You use one of the spatulas to expertly scoop the mixture into a waffle cone bowl, not spilling a drop. Then you hand Aegon his ice cream and ring him up at the cash register. He pays in cash.

You ask Josh, the manager on duty, if you can take your fifteen-minute break now. He frowns. “I thought you were going to refill the yellow cake and Oreo cookie mix-ins first.”

“Hey,” Aegon says. He waves a ten-dollar bill in the air to show it to Josh and then dunks it in the tip jar. “Do it yourself.”

“Fine,” Josh mutters to you. “But you don’t get a second over fifteen minutes.”

There’s no time to waste. You hurry to a small table by the window. It’s 8:30 p.m., and outside the world is indigo-dark and threaded with inorganic sparks of headlights, streetlights, kaleidoscopic neon signs. Your eyeshadow is vibrant and pink, because no one cares about that when you work at an ice cream shop: Push by Natasha Denona, Coax by Urban Decay.

Aegon takes his first taste of his ice cream as he sits down in the chair across from you. “You were right, this is delicious. A bop, not a flop.” Then he notices the bruise on your right wrist. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

“Oh. One of the Akitas bit me. Don’t worry, I can cover it up with concealer.”

Aegon is irritated. “Why is your mother letting her Akitas bite you?”

“It was my fault. I forgot that Oni doesn’t like when people pet his feet.”

Aegon sighs, stirring his Our Strawberry Blonde. “You want some of this?”

“I can’t,” you say reluctantly.

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I already had a little cup when I got here this afternoon so I have regrettably hit my ice cream quota for the day.” And then, when Aegon clearly does not approve: “I try not to restrict too much but obviously staying the same size takes effort. That’s not a disorder, it’s just reality.”

Aegon seems to debate arguing, then instead scoops up a heaping spoonful of ice cream and holds it out across the table. “Come on. It doesn’t count if it’s on my spoon.”

You smile sheepishly and open your mouth for him. Your lips close around the plastic spoon: coldness, sweetness, the grit of pulverized graham cracker pie crust, the infinitesimal black seeds of strawberries that catch between your teeth. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”

“I am,” you confess. “I know the joke. But I really do always get the vanilla-adjacent flavors. Cookie dough, French vanilla, sweet cream, cheesecake…”

Aegon smirks playfully. “Pathetic.”

“So you’re an enlightened being because you eat strawberry ice cream.”

“Boring people like vanilla. Kids like chocolate. Interesting adults like strawberry.”

“Do you actually have good news for me or did you just come here to be a ghoul?”

“I got you a part.”

“What?!” you squeal, and people are gawking again. This time, Aegon doesn’t tell you to be quiet. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies, grinning like he can’t help it.

“A part in what?”

“It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”

You scream; Josh scowls at you from behind the counter. “Oh my God, no way, no way!”

“You’re going to be the wife of a guy the doctors kill with negligence. Three scenes, two are pretty short and unremarkable but then you get to yell at the surgeon in the last one. Gives you the opportunity to show some range and make an impression.”

You can’t believe this is happening. “They aren’t going to make me audition first?”

“Well…it’s very last-minute,” Aegon says. “The actress who was supposed to do it has a drug problem or something, I guess, so she ghosted and they were scrambling for a replacement. And I completely fabricated your credentials.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I typed up a resume and sent it over and they loved it. So try not to talk about your actual experience because none of it will match.”

You shake your head, stunned, amazed. “What if they try to contact one of my alleged former employers?”

“Then they’ll be talking to Aemond, and he will lie and say you were an absolute pleasure to work with.”

Aemond Targaryen: Aegon’s younger brother, a screenwriter, a philanthropist, a well-respected entity in Hollywood, and you know this from the Googling that preceded your first meeting with Aegon last week. “And Aemond doesn’t mind helping you commit fraud?”

“It’s not a favor I call in very often.” Aegon finishes his ice cream, then begins breaking apart the waffle cone bowl and shoving shard-like pieces into his mouth.

“When’s the shoot?”

“Very very early on Thursday, that’s the bad news.” Thursday is two days from now. “So I’ll have to pick you up at your apartment at like 5 a.m.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be ready.”

He smiles, gnawing on a chunk of his waffle cone bowl. “I figured.”

“You’re going too?” The hope is unmistakable in your voice.

“Of course I’m going.”

“I didn’t think agents usually went to film shoots.”

“Well, fortunately for you, your agent is imminently fleeing Los Angeles and has already parted ways with most of his clients and really has nothing else going on besides hiding in his office and playing a Nintendo 64, so I figured I could make it. And also if I’m going to be enthusiastically recommending you to people, I should probably see you work at some point.”

You wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. “Do I get to make out with my fake husband?”

Aegon is amused. “From what I understand, you get to chastely kiss him once. They’re sending the script over to my office first thing in the morning, so you’ll only have a day to learn your lines.”

“That’s enough time. I’ll make it work.”

“Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.

Thursday. “Is the shoot just one day?”

“Yeah, they should be able to get everything they need from you on Thursday morning. Why?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday and I was just wondering if I’d have to reschedule it.”

Aegon is immediately vigilant. “What kind of appointment?”

“Uh…” You smirk guiltily. “It’s just a consultation. No slicing yet.”

“And you’re going to cancel that,” Aegon says flatly.

“Seriously?”

“Do you want implants because you want them or because you think other people want you to have them?”

You hesitate. “Both.” That’s probably a lie.

Aegon leans back in his chair and studies you. “Yeah, you’re cancelling that appointment.”

“Why?”

“Because when I agreed to sign you, you told me that you’d do anything I say. And I’m telling you to cancel it.”

“But why don’t you want me to get implants? Everyone gets implants.”

“Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—it’s very difficult to stop. First it’s your tits, then it’s your eyes and your nose, then it’s your chin and your cheeks and your neck and your ass, and it’s just this revolving door of painful, dangerous, unnecessary procedures that are condemning you for being mortal, that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”

You smile, then reply quietly: “You’ve never seen me.”

Aegon grins. “I don’t care if you have twelve nipples under there like a fucking beagle, you don’t need plastic surgery.”

You both laugh, and the tension evaporates, and even if you don’t cancel the appointment—Aegon is one person, the entertainment industry is omnipotent and eternal—you are glad he seems to like you the way you are. Behind the counter, Josh is waving manically to get your attention and summon you to return to work. You pretend not to see him.

Aegon asks: “Why don’t you like horses?”

“They freak me out. They’re all teeth and legs and they’re huge, I’m always scared they’ll step on me.”

“Your dad’s a doctor, right? I thought all rich girls had horses.”

“Where I’m from, a lot of women ride horses to distract themselves from the fact that their husbands are riding their receptionists or interns. I’d rather have no horse and no awful cheating husband.” And Aegon stares at you and turns serious, because perhaps you’ve inadvertently addressed the elephant in the room: he has a fiancée, and neither of you are acting like she exists. You swiftly pivot. “I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

He appears startled. “What?”

“The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Aegon chuckles uneasily and gets up to throw his trash away, then stands under the florescent lights with his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair falling out of its gel and hanging over his forehead. He gazes down at you pensively; you are still seated at the table. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m closing tonight, so I’ll be done around 10:30 or 11.”

“Okay. Can I come back to pick you up and drive you home?”

You are puzzled. “Why?”

He gestures to the inky dark window, incredulous. “Because obviously you shouldn’t be walking alone in Harbor Gateway at midnight? You know there was a shooting a block from here last week. I looked it up.”

“I walk home all the time.”

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“You are being very dramatic for a non-actor.”

“Listen, I can’t go to my house and try to fall asleep while I’m wondering if you’re getting mugged or murdered.”

You look at Aegon. He does seem genuinely worried. “You can drive me home.”

“Great. See you in two hours.” He strides away and shoves open the glass door; the little metal bells hanging there jingle.

“Aegon?”

He halts mid-step and turns around. “Yeah?”

“Does Becca know where you are right now?”

His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”

And before you can reply, he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

On Thursday, June 19th, Aegon picks you up in his white Chrysler Sebring convertible while the city is still asleep. The sky is dark, the streetlights passing by overhead, infinite pinpoint supernovas. There are hardly any other cars on the road. Aegon’s hair is a mess and his eyes are bleary; he’s sipping a Starbucks coffee with one hand and holding the steering wheel with the other. He is wearing a suit, but he still manages to look unpolished, his white shirt half-untucked and his black tie too skinny. He sets his coffee down in one of the cup holders and passes you something venti-sized and iced.

“I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”

“Aw, thanks! Skim milk?”

“Nope,” he says, smiling. You smile back and take a gulp of it, cold and sweet and bracing. “What’s your hype song?”

“I can’t tell you,” you say, embarrassed.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to terrorize me.”

“Don’t Stop Believing? Don’t Stop Me Now? I Gotta Feeling?”

“Lose Yourself.”

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, his hair flying in the wind. “That’s definitely a fireable offense. I’m ditching you the second we finish this shoot.” But he taps around on his phone and plugs in the aux, and then Eminem is thudding through the speakers as the Sebring sails north and the red-gold dawn rises on the horizon, a celestial message from the East Coast, an omen from the future.

Aegon drives you to Prospect Studios in Los Feliz, just east of Hollywood. Filming will be indoors on a soundstage. You spend what feels like forever in hair and makeup, and the costume designer—who had prepared for a different actress—dresses and redresses you over and over again, frowning at your chest and waist and thighs, and you have a sudden pang of nauseating panic and dread: I don’t belong here. What the fuck was I thinking?

Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.

But when it’s over, while you are still standing on the soundstage with the other actors, Aegon puts on his sunglasses and smiles at you from across the room; and you remember what he said outside his office on the day you first met—you are so bright, sunshine—and you know you’ve done a good job.

[maukree]

Link to part 1 Yay, here we are. Part 2 of my *not quite Civil War (616)—The Messiest Divorce in Superhero History specifically (or Civil War, which is mostly actual Civil War just for this part, with very little winteriron)—where everything gets dark, painful, and incredibly shippable for so many ships. Not gonna lie, the whole point of these posts is for me to catch up before I start working on my MTH fill for the 616-canon-heavy winteriron fic, and also to have a convenient resource to link to if MCU-only fans actually choose to read it and want to know what happened in canon versus what is complete bullshit for my writing pleasure. That said—this event is a goldmine for all kinds of ships. So I’ve snagged the juiciest bits for your reading (and thirsting) pleasure because every ship is valid, and I don’t discriminate. (Though, I have my favorites, so they’re gonna stand out.) Now—Tumblr has a 30-image limit per post, and I am not about to split Civil War into multiple parts here, so there is a lot of ground to cover in this. There will be more parts after this, so you get one post for Civil War specially, with as much crammed into it as I can, laid out as simply as possible—for me, and hopefully for you too. P.S. While my cover image lists the overall timeline and which series I discuss in terms of winteriron, Civil War and this part here hits the fan right smack in the middle of Captain America and The Invincible Iron Man (they each get a few issues inside), but there’s a lot of other crap happening too elsewhere. I’m not about to unpack every superhero’s massive tie-in series here in equal detail, but I will mention others before the first BIG fight and how they pertain to Tony, Bucky, Steve and Peter—because, obviously, that’s who we’re here for, and Peter is in the middle... 'cause he is kind of important here. If you want the full, issue-by-issue breakdown of every tie-in, crossover, and emotional kick in the nuts that happened, and you didn’t like the five-hour video I sent you to in Part 1, Marvel’s got you covered with their Complete Guide to the Civil War Event (or which order to read it at, which I am following here, sort of.) *visuals are after each arc/issue covered. Fair warning: this has a lot of food for irondad or starker, but this is canon, so just deal with it. K, click that Read More button, and let’s goooo into “holy shit, why are they like this?”

If you read this part you will know where Tony, Bucky and Steve are just after 616 Civil War is won by one side.

What triggered Civil War for real / Was used as an excuse for registration? Basically, the U.S. government has been side-eyeing caped vigilantes for years—tolerating their sometimes helpful, sometimes catastrophic crime-fighting because, well, they weren’t technically employees. Things had been escalating for a while, but the final straw was when a group of young, reality-TV-era superheroes (The New Warriors) tried to do their thing, and—shocker—it went terribly. Some guy called Nitro (not part of the New Warriors, just a villain doing villain things) exploded next to an elementary school during a fight with that chirpy young group, killing over 600 people, including a lot of kids. There was a national outrage, and nothing gets the government’s attention quite like untrained superhumans causing massive collateral damage in broad daylight that people complain about. Suddenly, Congress, the media, and your grandma had an opinion on whether superheroes should be running around unchecked, which has resulted in the Superhuman Registration Act (SRA or, sometimes SHRA)—which most people are probably more familiar with from the X-Men movies and whatnot (where it was basically “Mutants, go register”), or as the comic book equivalent of the Sokovia Accords in the MCU. The SRA demanded that all superheroes:

Register with the government.

Reveal their identities.

Undergo training.

Operate under official oversight.

Which… totally sounded reasonable to some people. But only some people. Sure, about half of the superhero community saw it as necessary law and order, but the other half saw it as the death of personal freedom. And that is how this Marvel Civil War came about in the comics. (They did have a second one waaaay later, but I am not getting into that.) The easy comparison with MCU here is:

Team Pro-Registration (led by Tony).

Team Anti-Registration (led by Steve).

Where it gets VERY different:

It has very little (nothing, but he's around) to do with Bucky.

It's long.

A lot of people are involved.

Fighters on each side die.

It gets twisted and very much downhill from here as far as Tony's bromance with Steve goes (or on the up, depends on how much you like your angst). And, yes, there is a possibility some of the characters would've remained alive (but, like, a lot of Marvel characters die and come back even more often in the comic books) if Tony and Steve had just fucked it out, honestly. The Amazing Spider-Man (1999): Mr. Parker Goes to Washington (#529-531) (Not actually released in 1999—the series itself started in 1999. Marvel’s way of naming shit and constantly renaming it will break your head, I swear.) This specific three-parter covers Tony dragging Peter into the most emotional relationship drama to ever drama. For clarity (and because I think I’m too funny and can’t resist commenting along), while Civil War is gearing up, Tony starts making deeply emotional decisions under the guise of strategy, and his first move is to recruit Peter and make sure he is on his side. Because obviously, if you’re about to start a massively controversial government-backed superhero initiative, the first person you want in your corner is the kid with no money, another tragic backstory, the worst luck in the history of caped crusading, but a very good sense of right and wrong. At this point in the timeline, Peter is living with Tony in the Avenger's tower, Tony is already acting like his chaotic billionaire stepdad while Peter is hitting it off with the Avengers on the daily. For real, Peter even calls him “Dad” once or twice, although mostly, he calls him “boss” and, what, do you know, he is actually his intern. MJ is staying with Peter, but you can ignore that. So what actually happens here relevant to Civil War beginnings: Tony takes Peter to Washington, D.C., where he’s testifying before Congress about superhero accountability. While in D.C., Tony gives Peter a new version of the Iron Spider suit (like two days after another new version ’cause he can’t stop spoiling him or, like, gearing him up for war or something, idk...) and starts laying the groundwork for making him his right-hand. There are a lot of father/son vibes, mentor/protégé vibes, and if you’re reading this through a Starker lens, well—Tony spends a lot of time complimenting Peter, and putting a hell of a lot of emotional weight on his presence.

Fact: Tony genuinely cares about Peter in here (not looking at it through starker lens right now, trying to think winteriron long game here), but he’s also desperate for allies as the political pressure builds. Because Peter is not just a good boy for Tony but good in general, he is clearly conflicted from the beginning about the government stepping in to control superheroes, but Tony reassures him that it’s the right thing to do and that he is actually working on stalling it and making sure it stays under control (he is being hella shady). Peter also trusts Tony implicitly (big mistake, buddy), and because this is the road to Civil War and not just Fun Congressional Trips With Tony and Pete, we also get some early signs of how badly this is going to go for everyone involved. So, Peter backs Tony up (as Peter, hiding his identity and later as Spider-Man, refusing to reveal his identity at the meeting), showing loyalty to Tony despite his own lingering doubts. This whole arc is really about Tony starting to make moves to secure the Pro-Registration side, and Peter—bless him—doesn’t fully grasp what he’s getting into yet. This is an awesome arc to read for anyone who likes Tony and Peter in any capacity, but it’s so clear that Tony doesn’t just care about Peter here—he needs him. He is also the guy who will, very soon, break Peter’s heart, and it’s very gutting. Like, they kick the whole event off with this, and you can feel your heart bleed in advance. Why this Matters for Civil War: Tony starts Civil War with Peter at his side, which will make it all the more painful when it inevitably falls apart. Peter’s trust in Tony is absolute at this point, and that will change—violently. Tony also secretly hires a bad guy to attack them in D.C. to make a point, and this should really be one of the many signs on how seriously Tony's starting here from the very beginning.

In Fantastic Four #536-537, Thor’s hammer crash-lands on Earth. This is a big deal because, at this point, Thor is 'not around', but everyone is trying to get their hands on his nutcracker. Naturally, Doctor Doom shows up, because if something cool falls from the sky, he’s contractually obligated to try and steal it. The reason the hammer is important is because Reed Richards is around for this, so while he’s not fully immersed in Civil War beginnings yet, he’s about to be. Also, Thor and his hammer specifically play a massive part in Civil War (stick a pin in that mental note). Doom doesn’t get the hammer, obviously, it just chills there because nobody can lift it. Following the Fantastic Four issues (but also technically happening before them—just go with it), we have New Avengers: Illuminati (2006) #1, which is basically a bunch of rich, powerful men sitting in a room and making decisions that will screw over everyone else. This issue gives us the Illuminati’s response to the SRA, aka a lot of self-important posturing. The Illuminati (Tony, Reed Richards, Namor, Doctor Strange, Black Bolt, and Charles Xavier) gather to discuss how this whole registration thing is about to go down. And—shocker—they do not agree. Everyone except Reed and Tony, who tend to agree on more things than people give them credit for, thinks that the SRA is a massive disaster waiting to happen. T'Challa is there too, and while he loves being complemented on how pretty his country is, he still tells them to fuck off. Politely. Namor flips off Tony too and nearly drowns him. It's a cool action sequence. So, nothing too exciting, but good to know. That said, this is side content I don’t personally care about, but will splash in here and there for basic understanding as needed, and not spend image limit on it (unless it extra cool).

Civil War (2006) #1 This is where things aren’t just leading to the breakup of Tony and Steve—this is where everything fully hits the fan. I’ve already covered the tragedy and the public outrage/last trigger for SRA, but let’s talk about a lovely parallel happening in the aftermath. During the funeral for the folks who died, Tony gets spit on. A grieving mother blames him personally for the deaths of all those children, since he's kinda bankrolling Avengers and stuff, and while Tony was not even remotely involved in this paticular Nitro-exploding and killing kids mess—just the cleanup—he takes it HARD. (Yeah, remember how badly he took everything in the movies? It's worse in the comics, and the woman is aggressive about it.) And regardless of whether it’s comic books or movies, if there’s one thing Tony cannot handle, it’s being told that his inaction led to innocent people dying. This is where his shady, kind-of-sorta “leaning” into supporting registration cements itself into a full send. Unfortunately for both sides of this war, Fury is nowhere to be found to smack some sense into people, because he pissed off the U.S. government (again) and is currently persona non grata. So instead, Maria Hill is running S.H.I.E.L.D, calls in Steve for a little chat, while a bunch of other heroes are off in various places having their “Should we let the government own our asses?” powwows. Hill, naturally, expects Steve to be the poster boy for the Superhuman Registration Act, because, you know, Captain America = America, right? Big mistake. Huge. I don’t know if it’s the way she talks to him in her “I’m in charge now, shut up and do what I say” tone, or the fact that she basically says, “Hey, so here’s the deal—there’s a new law coming down. You’re going to help us enforce it, and we’re going to use S.H.I.E.L.D. to make sure every superhero signs up. Cool? Cool.” Either way, Steve's response is HELL NO. Hill, in her usual charming manner, reacts to being blown off by trying to arrest him. Which is hilarious. Steve then proceeds to beat the crap out of some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, escape the Helicarrier, and go underground. But not to hang out with Fury who pops up at a later stage. Just underground, officially becoming the face of the Anti-Registration movement. Now, I’m probably not being fair to Hill (I actually do like her), but I am also Switzerland when it comes to comic book Civil War (and MCU Civil War), because both Tony and Steve are being absolute fucking idiots about literally everything in either canon. Frankly, Bucky is the only smart one when this takes place, and mostly 'cause he’s nowhere to be seen yet after ghosting Steve in London. He’s out there somewhere, probably drinking whiskey in a safe house, brooding about his past crimes, cleaning his guns, and for now busy NOT giving a single fuck about what's going on. While the love of his life that he hasn’t met yet (reminder: this is a winteriron timeline) is going out of his way to become the most hated man in the superhero community. Sad.

She-Hulk (2005) #8 is mostly a pointless tie-in to Civil War in the context of what I am trying to do here, but we do get a peek at Tony’s methods and how he’s running his “Collect ’Em All” campaign for Pro-Registration allies. Jennifer Walters (She-Hulk), has a bunch of things going on somewhat related to the main event, but the only one you need to know here is that Tony makes an appearance to give her information she needs for a case she is working on—“for free, not asking for anything, no strings attached” of course (which, lol, sure, Tony). This is a good look at how Tony operates. He’s not exactly strong-arming people right away, but you’d have to be blind not to pick up on the “Pick a side or get picked for one” vibes. In general, his methods vary through the Civil War, but you have to give it to him, he is very creative and approaches each person in a wickedly unique way. Crafty. He's crafty. In Wolverine (2003) #42, Logan is seen catching some heat and getting the “You’re not welcome here anymore” treatment from randoms, demonstrating how the baseline folks are reacting to what’s going on (although, when does he not get this heat, honestly?). He gets into a few debates with fellow supers about how the SRA is giving Nazi vibes, all while side-eyeing the Sentinel parked outside the X-Mansion pretending to be a lawn ornament and suspecting it’s not actually there for their “safety”. Wolverine isn’t my favorite in general, but he slaps in this, because instead of sitting around and yapping about whose side he’s on, he’s one of the few people actually making sense and decides that Nitro—the asshole who kickstarted this and exploded all over the place, killing all the people—hasn’t been rolled over by an avenging tank yet and it should probably be done. Right? The man has a point. Avengers. Tony tells him to drop it because “we have bigger problems”, but Logan is like “Yeah, nah” and sets off on a mission to gut Nitro with a fork (or, well, six of them), since someone here has priorities and actually takes being an Avenger (which he has been for a few months only tbh) seriously. I am not gonna talk about Wolverine much after this, so feel free to hunt down his issues on your own.

Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #532 This is one of my favorite issues, honestly, because this is the moment Tony asks Peter for everything, and Peter realizes what his loyalty to Tony actually means. In short, they visit the White House together (Tony brings him along to all the cool places, as you can see), and Peter’s life as he knows it gets irreversibly fed. This issue is a massive turning point because Tony wants a lot. And I mean, a lot. Up until this point, every time Spider-Man’s identity has been revealed, it’s been because a villain unmasked him—never voluntarily. But now, with the SRA officially getting signed by the president, the rules are clear: If you don’t register, you and your entire family become fugitives. Your assets will be confiscated, your safety will be gone, your life will be over, etc. AND if you do sign up, you might also have to snitch on others and hunt them down. Like… tough. Very tough. Tony, being the dramatic bastard that he is, casually admits to the President that he is Iron Man right there in the Oval Office, while Peter is completely missing this historic moment because he’s looking for a bathroom, checking out Secret Service agents, and admiring priceless art. (I respect his priorities.) Then comes the Big Ask. Tony wants Peter to do the same—to stand beside him and publicly reveal that he is Spider-Man to the world. Peter, reasonably, is not down for this plan at all initially, but Tony, ever the master manipulator with a heart, leaves Peter with a choice. (Sort of. Which is really no choice at all, if you think about it, since, if Peter refuses, his entire life crumbles.) MJ and Aunt May (especially May) help him process the decision, and while they ultimately support him, Peter himself is still torn right up until the last second. Even when he’s about to go to Tony with a YES, he still considers running. He even makes the arrangements to run, but doesn’t. The issue ends with Tony and Peter standing side by side at a podium, about to make this announcement. This issue slaps for both irondad and starker, honestly.

Civil War: Front Line (2006) #1 While superheroes are busy picking sides, Front Line follows the journalists stuck in the middle, trying to cover this mess—specifically Ben Urich (Daily Bugle, professional shit-stirrer) and Sally Floyd (indie journalist, professional snarker). The two of them are trying to make sense of the SRA fallout, tracking how the government is spinning the Stamford disaster (all those dead kids). In the same issue, Speedball—one of the good guys who accidentally got a school full of kids blown up when he was fighting Nitro—gets arrested, which is awkward as hell and also the first time on the page where someone flashes their S.H.I.E.L.D. badge to start arrests, signaling that things are starting to get really serious. Speedball has a VERY bad time after his arrest and is often used to remind us all that the places where supers who didn't fall in line go are not a spa. At all. Since this is essentially a press room issue, it ends with the reveal of Tony’s identity—that same press conference where we last left him with Peter. And LOL, DUDE, you do not begin this shit with “Hello. I am Tony Stark, and I am an alcoholic.” This. Is. What. He. Says. YES. While Peter is next to him, shaking in his boots and waiting for his very private life get gutted into pieces to support Tony's agenda.

Civil War (2006) #2 Following the first arrest, things are properly rolling downhill now. More arrests, the first betrayals, and the first real punches are about to happen. Tony, still fully committed to the government’s golden boy arc, is working with S.H.I.E.L.D. to form his superhero task force to hunt down the noncompliant capes. Steve has been AWOL since flipping off Hill but there is a resistance going on. I mean… it sounds good, right? For now, Tony looks like a total dick, and Steve is the hero. As a note, however, Tony is not being a complete blind asshole here, and does struggle with hoping they are doing the right thing just before SRA officially becomes law. Because comics don’t release in a neat timeline, the end of this issue is also where we get some lovely art of Peter unmasking during that press conference (the art shifts between comics, enjoy it and deal with it).

At this point, Civil War is fully spiraling, and the “oh shit, this is getting worse” moments are stacking up. In Thunderbolts (2006) #103, Tony and his team sign up the Thunderbolts—a group of villains-turned-government-enforcers (not to be confused with the MCU version, and no, Bucky is not here yet). And what is their job is to hunt down villain holdouts and then recruiting them to hunt down more holdouts. Yes, the plan is literally “let’s get criminals to enforce the law.” Things are just getting plain weird and scary and in Civil War: Front Line (2006) #2, the press and civilians are starting to get real nervous about how Tony is taking down people who used to be on the side of good with very little prejudice for not complying. Essentially, the whole “this is about protecting people” argument is starting to look flimsy AF when actual normal people are watching buildings collapse and their heroes get thrown into Superhero Guantanamo. Nobody is having a good time at this stage, but, to lighten the mood, Peter gets fired from the Daily Bugle via headline: “YOU’RE FIRED!”

New Avengers (2004) #21 is where we properly get into Steve’s headspace, and IT IS HILARIOUS. This issue is basically Steve being alone and sad after flipping off Maria Hill and instantly regretting everything, including his own existence. He angsts for most of it, because of course he does, and at some point, Bucky makes a 0.5-second flashback appearance, because it wouldn’t be a Steve issue if he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself and reminiscing about people he’s lost. The vibe here is “I should draw my feelings or write a book” (multiple panels on him trying to do that), but instead of actually dealing with his trauma of being a fugitive, which he is very upset about, he just… keeps brooding. Then S.H.I.E.L.D. sends Dum Dum Dugan to bring Steve in, and that’s when the paranoia kicks in. Suddenly, Steve is feeling betrayal from all angles (fair), and even Falcon catches some suspicion, even though they are best buds in this, since Bucky is out there gallivanting somewhere, not getting involved yet. After Steve and Falcon reunite, they set off on a noble quest titled: “Let’s Make Civil War About Peter Parker, Because He’s the First Pick for Everyone.” They gently stalk Peter to see if he’d be down to join Team Cap, but they are very late. Steve is devastated, because Peter once called him cute, and now Peter is already firmly on Tony’s side, kinda-sorta-but-actually-yes. And if that wasn’t enough betrayal for one issue, Hank Pym tries to help S.H.I.E.L.D. to arrest Cap, which really just solidifies the whole “Steve is having the worst week of his life” situation. Maybe if Steve had actually talked to Peter instead of stalking him, Peter would have called him cute again, and Civil War would have ended right there, since our sunshine babydoll can make everyone see light. But alas.

As you probably picked up on already, Peter is right smack in the middle of this, as mentioned about 10,000 times. In Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #533, they fully cover how much his life went to absolute shit after that press conference. It wasn’t just getting fired. Everyone wants a piece of him now. Some people want to kill him, a lot of people want to fuck him, and the internet is absolutely losing its collective mind. (For real—his unmasking breaks the internet, including the porn sites. FACTS.) At the same time, Peter is deeply uneasy about everything, and Tony is “comforting” him while simultaneously sharpening his betrayal knife. The same knife where Tony does not ASK Peter if he wants to be part of his superhero-hunting strike force and instead, he just signs him up publicly without permission. Peter, already on his WTF is going on subplot, doesn’t even get time to process any of this properly before Tony cranks the drama to 11, piling on on top of his little 'favor' to reveal his identity and says: “Hold my beer, meet your new teammates, and get ready—because the dying is about to fucking start tomorrow.” Whelp.

Things don’t actually escalate to full-on hero-on-hero-we-give-a-crap-about murder aka THE BIG WTF MOMENT just yet (patience), but people are getting hurt just for trying to not pick a side, and crime is skyrocketing because, shockingly, when heroes are too busy planning on punching each other, villains thrive. In Fantastic Four (1998) #538 Johnny is in a coma because a mob beat him within an inch of his life just for existing as a super, the Fantastic Four are already crumbling and even Reed’s own family thinks he’s being a dick. (And they are correct.) He is so firmly on Tony’s side that it’s almost embarrassing, and I suspect some consensual touching is involved to be this stupidly on board with Tony, but I digress here too, since I don’t even know if this is a ship. There’s some setup happening for later events, but we’re not going Mariana Trench deep here, so let’s move on. Oh, someone does pick up Thor’s hammer. I wonder who that is. Over in Civil War: Front Line (2006) #3, the press is still deep in the trenches, and there is a lot of talking happening. Everyone is talking. Some folks are being interviewed. Nobody is doing shit. It's getting... boring. It's also getting very confusing.

BUT.

We are FINALLY, at least in this ‘brief’ (ah, who the fuck am I kidding here) recap, at the stage where I am mentally prepared to talk about The Great Civil War Standoff (aka, Please, Just Start Punching Already) and promptly skip to HOLY FUCK NOT THIS MUCH PUNCHING, boooooys, what are you doing??? (I rock myself in the corner.) As mentioned, the whole thing sorta stalls while each side is staring at each other with deep, unspoken yearning, waiting for the BIG fight, while smaller fights start breaking out all over the place. And because event comics are an actual nightmare, I am going to stop talking about the tie-ins here. I’ve set the scene, now just assume there’s a TON of random skirmishes happening, Cap and Spider-Man have already thrown hands (yo, this pretends to be a winteriron timeline, go look for your shippy business elsewhere, I am hungry), a bunch of unimportant extras are getting hurt or worse, and at this point, it’s just Tony vs. Steve and their twisted moral compasses playing an extremely violent game of chicken. I know, I know—I am taking a big skip after I just dropped an obscene amount of lore on you. But listen. Event tie-ins, and I cannot state it enough, are so messy and out of order while… being in order, sorta. You get to one good bit, and then Marvel chucks another 2,000 issues between you and the next good bit, and suddenly, you’re sitting there, waiting for the cliffhanger to be explained while trying to remember why the hell you should care what Quicksilver was doing five minutes before it happened and why you can’t just skip ahead to the yummy shit. Headache material, honestly. So, anyway. The scene has been set. Yay. Civil War is in progress. What we know now and what I am desperately trying to remember here:

Bucky is still in the wind.

Steve’s resistance is being annoying and resisting, but occasionally making sense, gaining traction, and also getting innocent people hurt left and right.

Tony is entering his “I am a very scary man” era and is also getting people hurt left and right, both physically and emotionally.

Peter is still with Tony but is having a minor existential crisis every five minutes on the account of emotional hurt, and barely any other Marvel issue in this timeline doesn't have an opinion on why he is still with Tony, is he sucking his dick or what, 'thought he was the good guy'/'ah yeah, this is why Tony needed him', etc.

The X-Men are staying out of it, mostly, because they’ve seen this movie before.

Deadpool and Cable, as well as about a gazillion other supers, have their own shit going on, but I refuse to get into that.

The Thunderbolts are being shady, surprise surprise, and they only get an honorable mention here ‘cause I’ve mentioned them earlier to demonstrate Tony’s spiral into being not just a bit of an asshole but very much an asshole.

Reed is so into Tony that he’s about to do something crazy. (I don’t even know if the touching is consensual at this point, since he is absolutely whipped by Tony, and it stinks of Stockholm syndrome.) So, now that we have decided on where we are and had a cup of tea/smoke, let’s have a look at the actual Civil War issues as they proceed, Captain America Civil War issues and Iron Man issues, skip a bunch of other important shit after, but ultimately, get to where we need to be before Part 3 of me posting (some other day) because I want to talk about Tony and Bucky and not about Civil War.

Civil War (2006) #3 Alright, we are finally here, because Civil War #3 is where shit gets real. Tony, being the tactical genius and emotionally constipated mess that he is, decides that it’s time to spring a trap on Team Cap. He and his Pro-Reg team set up a fake distress call because Steve is Steve, and if there’s even the slightest chance someone needs saving, he’s gonna show up. Boom. Steve does, of course, and Steve and his Underground Resistance walk straight into it. This finally gives us the most tense superhero standoff so far, with S.H.I.E.L.D. hovering overhead, a ton of supers on both sides locked, loaded, and ready to throw hands, and Peter right in the middle, not knowing how the fuck he got stuck with this lot. Tony, to his credit, tries to be the adult here. He actually reaches out, extends an olive branch, and tries to talk some sense into Steve before this escalates into full-out war (okay, okay, he tells him to chill the fuck out and comply, in slightly different words, but there is an actual amnesty Tony has worked out if Steve goes willingly, so he did try). Steve, being the absolute icon of stubbornness that he is, nods. Agrees to talk, at least. And immediately tries to take Tony down using some sneaky tech. Which gives us Tony vs. Steve, and it is GLORIOUS. These two beat the absolute crap out of each other, while everyone else on their respective teams also starts brawling (dozens/hundreds), with caped bodies flying, punches being thrown, and Peter still mostly blinking, but also fighting, while being upset that he failed to mediate between his two extremely stupid super dads and is not enjoying the whole “exhausted child of divorce” role they’ve been trying to pin on him. The fight between Tony and Steve is brutal, but Tony actually has an edge, since he’s Extremis-enhanced, a tech genius, years ahead in strategy, bla-bla-bla—so Steve is struggling. It goes on for a while, this fight, and then, the cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers. Because Thor (codename “Lightning”—this is important) shows up to backup Team Tony. Which shouldn’t be a big deal, right? We suspected it, since hammer and all, but... christ.

Civil War #4 is where we go from “Oh shit” to “OH FUCK NO.” The Thor that shows up at the end of Civil War #3 is not… actually Thor? Only in comic books, folks, since he’s a clone that Tony, Reed, and Hank Pym cooked up in a lab. While Team Cap is a bit shook, (they take Thor being a god of thunder seriously, he’s also been presumed dead for ages), Tony is trying to get Steve to give up, but Steve is having none of it. It seems largely (ha!) in favor of Team Tony right now, until Goliath (a massive giant person, can shrink down, used to be buddies with Thor, actually) shows up for Team Cap and Thor… kills the fuck out of his nice buddy, making everyone, Tony included, freeze in a “what the actual fuck just happened?” terror, since innocents getting hurt and extras getting hurt are sorta… whatever, but this is one of their own, technically, biting it. Team Cap calls for a retreat, very shook, and Reed’s Sue Storm is the first important superhero to straight-up bail on the Pro-Registration side right this moment because she is DONE with this bullshit and with Reed, who has been such an asshole to Fantastic Four, honestly—not giving a crap about Johnny being in a coma and possibly (at the very least emotionally) cheating on her with Tony. Sue is so done that she shields Team Cap long enough for them to get away, and after the fight writes Reed a dramatic “I’m leaving you, please feed yourself, there’s oily fish” note, and takes Johnny (who is no longer in a coma, yay!) with her to fight the good fight, or a fight, as long as it's not on Reed's side. And on both sides, folks on the sideline are starting to really question leadership and what kind of fight it really is. Peter is actually asking, “Wait… are we the baddies?” having massive doubts about Tony, and Steve doesn’t seem to give a shit how many of his friends get hurt, and it’s all very fucking gutting and not even a little funny. In general, this looks bad for both Steve and Tony, because Steve is throwing his side against Tony’s like cannon fodder and doesn’t seem to listen to anyone’s opinions on the fact that amnesty is at least worth discussing at this point, and Tony is after causing massive (ha!) death with a faulty clone, so a lot of superheroes are—if not outright bailing and changing sides now—at least considering it. Tony actually pays for Goliath’s funeral, since he was a cool guy and didn’t shrink down after dying. Had to buy him a massive amount of plots because, well… giant. Has a gutting interaction with his widow that tries to remind him what Tony is doing this for to begin with. For me this is a very important issue for Tony's character in this. He pays for Goliath’s funeral, because that’s who Tony is—he genuinely does care. But instead of acknowledging that this is the moment to stop, to rethink, to pull back, he keeps going, because, sadly, caring doesn’t stop him from marching forward and getting deeper and deeper into this.

Captain America (2004) #22 – The One Where Steve Gets Laid (and Sharon Gets Therapy for related reasons)

While Tony and Steve are busy emotionally wrecking each other on a public stage, we take a brief (very) detour into the mess that is Steve Rogers’ love life. Hill, who has been on a power trip ever since Fury went underground, decides that since Steve is still out there resisting like a stubborn bastard, someone needs to bring him in. And who better than his kinda-ex, kinda-current, definitely-in-love-with-him S.H.I.E.L.D. agent girlfriend?

Sharon is not thrilled because she’s really not here for the double standards. Like, Tony liaises (👀) with half of the superhero community, according to her, and the better half of S.H.I.E.L.D and nobody gives him shit, but the moment she has a little love crisis and starts questioning where her loyalty actually lies, suddenly, it’s a whole thing.

But fine. Mission accepted.

Sharon sets out to “bring Steve in”—by which I mean she tracks him down, immediately bangs him, and then quotes dead presidents at him in the post-coital glow. And because it's also Steve's love language, he also starts quoting dead presidents back. (If you’ve ever wondered what Steve’s pillow talk is like, now you know.)

Now, in case you were still wondering whether Sharon is truly down bad for Steve, let’s talk about how she sabotaged her own mission by giving the strike team (cape-killers) the wrong address. On purpose. So she could a) bang Steve and b) display her undying passion for those dead president quotes.

And this is why Sharon is in therapy. Because, as it turns out, this is how S.H.I.E.L.D. traditionally deals with traitors.

For those who remember what I talked about in Part 1 of this pre-civil war, here is something: Red Skull and Lukin are still out there, watching all of this unfold like it’s their personal Netflix binge, and they are THRIVING. They love that the heroes who should be stopping them are too busy punching each other instead. And because they are absolute dickheads, they are also actively manipulating Sharon’s emotions to make her feelings for Steve even stronger.

(Which explains the banging. Though, let’s be honest—she was into it.)

Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #535 (and half of the next Spider-Man-specific issue, sorta) – The One Where Tony Officially Breaks Peter’s Heart (And Ours) Alright, kids, this is it, and you should be thankful I made you crack a smile over dead presidents (hopefully), because this is crying-level shit.

This is where Peter starts realizing that maybe, just maybe, signing up with Tony was a colossal fucking mistake— and not just sorta feeling it.

Tony, still deeply entrenched in his “I Am the Government Now” phase, still has a soft spot for Peter (awww, tragic) and when Peter demands to see where the prisoners he is bringing in and not loving it are kept, Tony decides that it’s time to give Peter the full tour of the Negative Zone prison (a very dodgy place, tbh).

And our science nerd, all-around good guy, man with a conscience—takes one look at the absolute nightmare Tony has built and goes, “Wait. What the actual fuck is this? You can't be serious.” Tony: “Oh, yeah, this? This is where we’re locking up heroes who don’t register. Indefinitely. Without trial. In a literal alternate dimension, so no lawyer can ever get them out.” Peter, blinking hard, possibly resisting the urge to throw up: “…Excuse me?” Peter tries to confront Tony about it, he does, but very quickly catches on that Tony is not above implying he can do the same to him. Which is… whelp.

The whole conversation goes something like this, if you want a slightly longer version (see visuals for the full one): Peter: “Hey, Tony, quick question—what the fuck?” Tony: “Ah, Peter, my boy, don’t worry about it, this is for the greater good.” Peter: “The greater good? Again, what the fuck?” Tony: “You’re being dramatic.” Peter: “Am I? Am I though?” Tony: “Peter…” Peter: “Dad?” (happens) Tony promptly tries to ship Peter off on some other business to get him to cool off, but Peter is finally on board with the fact that this man has cracked, and he no longer feels safe around him. He doesn't even trusts MJ and Aunt May with Tony anymore (threats have been made) and tries to take them and go on the run. And then… He and Tony end up exchanging punches. God, it’s so bad and upsetting, you have no idea. I have no jokes for this, and ship it, don’t ship it, but this is the ultimate betrayal on Tony’s part. Peter is falling apart after, barely escaping, not knowing where to go, and Tony… is also feeling heartbroken, equally as gutted. I’m gonna leave this here for now, since we need to go into some other issues before we continue with this plotline. But you get me, yes? I need tissues when I think about this.

Captain America (2004) #23 - BUCKY!

Alright, everyone, take a deep breath. We are finally getting to the Bucky part of this winteriron timeline.

Bucky is officially entering the chat, and he is looking DAMN FINE while doing it, got a new hair-dew + arm and everything. He also has a lot of feelings while breaking into a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility to pull some spy shit for Fury, because of course he is, and I am devastated I am running out of image limit here soon.

He’s absolutely judging Steve for leading a resistance movement and somehow not inviting him... and sorta doing it the way he's doing it.

He’s also side-eyeing Tony for being a government stooge, even though that’s neither here nor there, since they don’t actually know each other at all (yet), but awareness is awareness, and it still doesn’t stop him from forming an opinion.

Bucky is, in fact, just generally pissed. And sexy. Always sexy. But the best part—and why Bucky really should be shaking hands with Peter here (another shoutout to winterspider)—is that Bucky is watching Steve and Tony’s breakup in real-time and judging both of them.

His basic thoughts on the matter boil down to “Wow, I left you two alone for five minutes, and this is what happens?” since while Steve and Tony are out here making Civil War everyone’s problem, Bucky is off-screen, forced into being hot and competent, actually doing something productive by hunting real villains.

He has zero actual desire to get involved in the war itself, though he does seem to be more pro-Steve, obviously, and is way more concerned about Red Skull and Lukin than he is about whatever the hell Steve and Tony are doing.

Speaking of villains, Red Skull, who we find out is using Doom’s tech but not actually working with him, is under the impression that the whole Civil War was his big, evil, successful plan. (It wasn’t, everyone contributed, but let’s humor him.)

On the slightly more angsty side—because Bucky never misses an opportunity for angst, picked it up from Steve—he does blame himself a little bit for Civil War, since some of the shit he did when he first got defrosted was cited as part of the long-ass list of “Why the SRA Needs to Exist.” Not that he’s spiraling over it, but he’s self-aware enough to recognize he helped fuel the fire. But mostly, he’s doing what Bucky kicks ass at—being hot in shadows, judging everyone, avoiding Steve’s nonsense, avoiding Tony’s nonsense, and handling actual problems. God, I want his babies.

Civil War (2006) #5

Where we swing back to Tony being a massive dick about almost everything—except for the fact that he loves Peter, one way or another.

At this point, they are sorta in the process of arguing/fighting (there is some timeline overlap), Peter is trying to run away from him, and when S.H.I.E.L.D. is about to take it too far, Tony absolutely panics because he cannot see Peter hurt.

But Peter is now technically a fugitive, and Tony’s side has recruited some deeply unhinged people, so it’s open season on Spidey, with very specific instructions that Peter is to be brought in alive and unharmed—no matter what.

That would have been great… except Peter is now running on pure panic and heartbreak, immediately realizes he is completely fucked, ends up in a stinky sewer, and gets his ass kicked into next week.

He almost dies but gets saved by Punisher of all people, who promptly brings him to Steve and the Resistance (where Sue and Johnny are pretending to be a married couple for a mission, which is weird—let’s not talk about it).

Meanwhile, Tony is spiraling. Again.

His entire strategy is falling apart, Sue Storm has already dumped Reed over this bullshit war, Steve is still out there leading his resistance, and now his own protégé—his son in all but name—has turned against him.

Tony is visibly wrecked over Peter’s defection, but since he has the emotional processing skills of a brick, he just channels all that heartbreak into “fine, let’s get Daredevil arrested next” energy, which he does—for which he is given a piece of silver and called Judas. (Brutal.)

That’s not to say Tony doesn’t care. He very clearly does, and this issue makes it obvious that he still sees Peter as a kid who needs protection, even when Peter himself doesn’t want it. But his way of showing it is, unfortunately, locking up Peter’s friends in a pocket dimension and putting a hit out on him (technically), so, uh… yeah.

Meanwhile, Steve is also getting more extreme, starting to questionably recruit people he normally wouldn’t, and letting Punisher into his little rebellion. (Which is definitely going to end well. Totally.) He is also over the moon Peter is on his side now and announces it to the others while... Peter is still unconscious. Now tell me both Steve and Tony are not simply fighting here over who gets to read him a bedtime story? Come on.

The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #13 & Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #536: (Tony’s Possible Career Change & Peter’s “Fuck You” Tour)

Alright, so The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #13 is technically Tony’s first solo Civil War issue, but fuck all actually happens.

It’s mostly a lot of “Tony, what the fuck are we doing?” meetings, brooding with some old friends, chatting to Happy while being deeply unhappy, and simultaneously spiraling, yet still, and committing war crimes in the name of national security. (Multitasking, sure.)

But one major thing does happen here, and while it’s just an offer at this point, it’s HUGE:

They start floating the idea of Tony taking over as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

At this point, S.H.I.E.L.D. is still running itself into the ground under Maria Hill’s special brand of leadership, but someone suggests that maybe, just maybe, the guy who is single-handedly running the actual show anyway should just be in charge of the whole thing.

And while that doesn’t happen just yet, it changes EVERYTHING for what happens post-Civil War. When it finally comes, is going to be a game-changer for his relationship with Bucky later on. (Yes, we are keeping our winteriron priorities straight, thank you.)

So, while this is happening and I am yawning 'cause Tony's first issue is so fucking underwhelming, in the Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #536, we pick up from Peter’s dramatic escape and near-death sewer experience, and things are finally coming to a head.

Peter, now officially 100% done with Tony’s bullshit, does something that could not be a bigger middle finger if he tried.

He digs out his old, classic Spider-Man suit (because fuck the Iron Spider, fuck you, Tony, I called you Dad unironically, you were my family, WTF), goes on national TV, and gives a full speech dragging the entire SRA, the Civil War, and Tony himself.

And as a helpful reminder here… Peter is not a “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man” in these comic books—he is a fucking legend, a bright, shining beacon of good for so many people (while still a menace to others, of course), and what he says actually matters.

For all of my shippy jokes and the subtext, there is a real reason why both sides want him. And it’s not just because he’s hella adorable and can kick things really hard.

When he talks, people listen. And when he does start talking, he absolutely obliterates the SRA, calls it unconstitutional, publicly calls out the people supporting it, and tells the world that he refuses to be part of it anymore. Tony loses his shit.

Okay, okay, some food for thought here, for once not related to ships I see everywhere (I have a sick mind and you are somehow still reading this, so don't ask me what's wrong with me and I will not ask you what's wrong with you).

Now, before anyone grabs their pitchforks, this is not me defending Tony’s actions (man makes a LOT of mistakes, obviously), but it is also worth remembering that he’s not a total monster here. He genuinely believes that what he’s doing is necessary, and unlike in the MCU where it’s all “let’s get a leash because one building blew up and we might have destroyed a country” the 616 version of Tony actually has a more thought-out (if deeply flawed) reason for being on the Pro-Reg side.

So, what is Tony trying to sell people on here?

Superheroes need to be trained. The trigger event for the SRA was a bunch of untrained, reality-TV-era heroes going up against a villain way out of their league, and as a result, a school full of children exploded. From Tony’s perspective, this was preventable. If these heroes had been properly trained, those kids (and some other people, but I mostly say kids, this is me not being nitty-gritty accurate about everything) wouldn’t be dead. This is not entirely wrong, but his method of fixing it is basically turning superheroes into government employees and locking up anyone who doesn’t comply, which is… less great.

The public has lost trust in superheroes. And Tony, unlike Steve, actually cares about public perception, comes with his brand and all. He sees this as a way to restore faith in the superhero community by offering transparency and accountability. The problem is obviously the way it’s being enforced is, again, deeply flawed and increasingly authoritarian.

The alternative, in his mind, is worse. He is absolutely cracked as far as Peter is concerned (fair), but here’s where Tony’s futurist brain actually screws him over—because he is not wrong when he says that if the superheroes don’t regulate themselves, the government will do it for them, and it’ll be worse. He thinks he’s getting ahead of the inevitable, but instead of negotiating and making sure the law is fair, he enforces it like an actual jackbooted stormtrooper.

So yeah, Tony is still a mess, and he’s still doing a lot of fucked-up things, but his core reasoning isn’t as evil as some people paint it in here and maybe even not as bad as I paint it overall in this recap.

He truly thinks he’s saving lives and making the world safer. He’s just doing it in the most morally questionable, emotionally compromised way possible, and at some point, even he knows it’s spiraling. That doesn’t excuse the Negative Zone prison or bounty hunting his own allies, engaging in shady business and, Jesus Fuck, cloning Thor, but it does explain why he started down this path in the first place. Tony is also on the side of the law and, for the most part, public opinion here (mostly, since actual normal public is scared AF right now). The problem is, the law isn’t always right, and Tony, in all his genius, somehow keeps forgetting that.

Now let’s hop over to Steve (“Oh No, Babe, What Are You Doing?” should be the title of his entire movement) and talk about how his ideals are great but his execution is a trainwreck. Look, Steve is not wrong—but he’s also not right in the way he thinks he is. And the biggest issue with Steve in Civil War is that his entire approach boils down to “Fuck No.” That’s it. No. No compromise. No alternative plan. Just hardcore, unwavering, freedom-loving NO. Steve’s Core Beliefs in Civil War:

"This is about freedom." Steve believes heroes should have the right to make their own choices about when and how they act, and he fundamentally rejects the idea that they should be forced to register. (Fair point, buddy, but maybe think of a Plan B? No? Cool, cool.)

"If the government can force us to do this, what’s next?” Steve has read a history book before and is fully aware that government overreach never stops at just one bad idea. And considering how mutants have already been treated (X-men and mutants are a very persecuted group here), he is not about to wait around and find out what comes next.

“I will not be controlled.” Instead of seeing if there’s a way to meet halfway or at least slow things down, Steve immediately goes, “Fuck this,” ditches his government job, and starts an underground resistance movement.

Which brings us to Steve’s biggest flaw in Civil War. Where Steve Screws Up:

Steve doesn’t even TRY to negotiate. Tony, for all his shady billionaire manipulation tactics, at least pretended to be open to discussion. Steve refused outright. Instead of using his influence to propose a better system when he still absolutely can, he straight-up vanishes into the night like Batman with extra patriotism.

His resistance is a mess. Unlike Tony, who is (somewhat) organizing a structured system, Steve’s team is basically “whoever wants to punch the government in the face” with no real plan beyond “resist.” He takes Punisher in, for crying out loud. There are no rules, no real discussions about alternatives, and no clear path forward with Steve's movement at all. This means his resistance is a bunch of scared, desperate heroes who are putting civilians in danger while trying to evade capture and kinda... all want to go home.

He is willing to let people get hurt for his cause. People are getting hurt left and right, not just his own team but also civilians caught in the crossfire. Instead of adapting or trying to find a smarter way forward, Steve just keeps doubling down, because this man went all-in on a bad bet and refuses to walk away from the table.

He does not listen. To anyone. A lot of people would have been on his side if he had actually tried to talk about a solution instead of running headfirst into a guerrilla war. Even when his own people start to question him, he digs his heels in and refuses to budge. Fuck them and the horse they rode in on is basic response to any "Emm... dude?"

Steve vs. Tony: The Real Tragedy

Steve sees Tony as a sellout, Tony sees Steve as reckless and the reality here is that they’re both kind of right.

Steve is fighting for freedom, but his method is chaotic and ultimately very dangerous. Tony is trying to prevent chaos, but his method is authoritarian, ruthless, and deeply problematic. And this is why Civil War is what it is. And why it is a lot more fun than the MCU one, if you properly get into it. At the end of the day, comic book Civil War isn’t just about laws and the SRA—it’s about two men who genuinely believe they’re doing the right thing, both completely incapable of seeing the middle ground. And, well… it all ends in disaster, obviously.

Captain America (2004) #24: In which Steve takes a page out of Bucky's book and punches the right people (for, like, 5 whole seconds) for a change. Finally! A break from all the Civil War emotional trauma to remind us that, yeah, Steve is a hero first, war criminal second. I am gonna guess it’s because we’re getting close to the finish line here (you are nearly free, yay!), so they just had to show Steve fighting someone other than his own friends for once. Progress. For… reasons.

He’s still knee-deep in Civil War Resistance mode, but he remembers for one night that there are actual bad guys in the world and focuses on a real threat: Hydra. (Or Hydra-adjacent assholes. And explosions. Lots of explosions.)

So, in this quick issue, Steve teams up with Sharon, who is now secretly working with Fury (who is still underground being an off-brand James Bond with a cigar budget, doing his own resistance thing much better), and together, they take on some good ol’ Hydra goons. Well, Steve takes on Hydra goons by blowing them up (probably killing them, but let’s just say “off-screen unconsciousness” for the sake of the PG-13 rating), and Sharon rolls in with her flying car to rescue him from S.H.I.E.L.D.

And, oh yeah, Red Skull is still lurking in the background, thriving on the fact that the Civil War is keeping everyone too distracted to stop him. He’s over here cackling like a Scooby-Doo villain, making sure Steve and Tony stay too busy ruining each other’s lives to notice he’s playing puppet master behind the scenes. (Smart move, honestly. Props to him for being the one guy who actually planned his shit out properly.)

Look, the details might be fuzzy (it’s getting late for me here), but the core takeaway is this: Cap is actually being Captain America again for an entire issue—stopping real threats, foiling evil plans, and protecting people instead of just yeeting his side at Tony’s.

The Invincible Iron Man (2004) #14

A good Tony issue following a good Steve issue… I wonder why that is. Not a good issue in the sense that Tony’s thriving—oh no, this man is drowning in consequences—but good in the sense that we finally get a proper deep dive into the emotional wreckage that is Tony Stark, destroyer of friendships, king of bad decisions, and certified government tool (actual fucking tool, honestly, but I love him and he can have Bucky’s babies, though I am not into mpreg).

This issue is actually packed.

Happy is dying in a hospital bed, Steve is still actively resisting arrest, Peter is on a fugitive road trip, and Sue Storm is ready to rip Tony’s head off for ruining her marriage. The government is still offering him more power, because sure, let’s give the stressed-out man on the verge of a breakdown full control over the most powerful intelligence agency on Earth.

Anyhow… not to go into too much detail here, but Tony cannot resist one last chance to talk things out with Steve and arranges a stadium meeting with Cap. You might think, “Oh, good, they’re going to try reasoning with each other like adults!” HAHAHA, NOPE.

The meeting lasts about five seconds before it devolves into a fight, which Steve… starts again. The emotional tension is through the roof, Peter is there too (aww, hurts), and they’re not just fighting over the SRA, they’re fighting over their entire broken relationship. If someone played “It’s Time to Go” by Taylor Swift over this sequence, it would fit perfectly.

Though Tony actually mostly fights with Peter here and still manages to pay him a compliment in the process, giving us hope that not all is lost, which we desperately need. But overall, the whole thing is still a disaster. Life is fully kicking Tony's ass from all directions, the temptation to drown it in whiskey is creeping back in, he is considering hitting the bottle, and… Tony is at a crossroads. He’s losing everyone who ever mattered to him, his side is looking increasingly shady, and the weight of everything is crashing down on him. We actually get some raw, human, vulnerable Tony, instead of just “mustache-twirling villain” Tony. So yeah, finally, a good Tony issue.

In case you were wondering, Peter is in fact fully on team Cap now, not just for the stadium fight, and in the Amazing Spider-Man (1999) #537 still has his morals intact (bless him), and this issue is about reinforcing that.

So, Steve—who is now basically Peter’s new/old father figure, 'sits' him down and hits him with the big speech.

And, my GOD, does he deliver it.

He drops one of the most iconic Captain America monologues in all of comic book history:

“Doesn’t matter what the press says. Doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mob say. Doesn’t matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences.”

And you just know this wrecks Peter emotionally, because this is exactly the kind of moral backbone that made him idolize heroes in the first place. This is the moment where Peter fully solidifies his stance. He’s not just on Team Cap because he got burned by Tony—he believes in what Steve is saying. Tony is having an emotional crisis over Peter leaving, which I completely understand, and... Peter also throws some flirty one-liners at the Cap, since our babe can't help it.

Civil War (2006) #6 and we are at maximum endgame (ugh, still hurts) mode now.

At this point in the war, neither side is even pretending to be civil despite moments of personal growth, slash remembering who they are, and both Steve and Tony have fully committed to their respective roles as Head of the Underground Resistance (Steve) and CEO of Government Overreach Inc. (Tony).

We start off with Tony and Reed in full villain arc, sipping coffee and talking about how crime rates are dropping (I have no idea how, since all the superheroes are busy beating the shit out of each other instead of fighting crime, but never mind me), and immediately move on to the Punisher deciding today is the day for homicide.

He sneaks into the Baxter Building (as one does) to steal information on “Number 42” which is not Tony’s latest suit model but instead the name for his prison in the Negative Zone where they’re throwing unregistered heroes indefinitely and that caused Peter and Tony to block each other on Facebook.

Totally normal, non-dystopian behavior, nothing to see here.

Sue Storm is out here making power moves too, pulling up to Atlantis and trying to convince Namor to get off his fishy ass and help Team Cap. Namor, in true “I am too sexy to care” fashion, basically shrugs and says, “Surface problems? Sounds like a you problem,” before dramatically flipping his cape and walking away. (Sue, girl, I admire the effort and only mention it, cause you are one of the very few truly likable characters in this Event.)

Back at Team Cap’s HQ, Steve unveils his master plan: an all-out raid on the Negative Zone prison to free their captured allies. The team is hyped, ready for action—until Punisher casually murders two villains in cold blood right in front of everyone because they dared to ask if they could help. Steve, who may be a war criminal but still has standards, absolutely loses it and beats the hell out of Frank before throwing him out of the rebellion.

Tony on his end is having an emotional meeting with Miriam Sharpe (aka, “Tony’s #1 Fan Who Also Made Him Feel Like Shit at That Funeral”). He throws some cash at a pretty garden with angels for the dead kids, she thanks him for all his hard work but also makes it clear that, yeah, this war is costing him everything. (Gee, thanks for the reminder, Miriam, I’m sure Tony didn’t notice he’s lost literally all of his friends by now.)

The issue ends with Steve pulling a classic Uno Reverse Card on Tony. The Pro-Reg forces think they’re about to stomp the rebellion once and for all, but—surprise, bitches!—Team Cap knew there was a mole in their ranks (Ragnarök, I’m looking at you, you Dollar Store Thor knockoff), and they had Hulkling impersonate Hank Pym to sneak in and free all the captured heroes before the fight even starts. So, yeah. Big-ass battle incoming, and I can nearly go to sleep.

Civil War (2006) #7 You’ve made it! (I low-key question if anyone actually did make it this far, but I am very into this now, so…)

This is the big one. The final battle. The moment where all this superhero divorce drama comes to a head, and oh my God, it is so much.

So, after about a million issues of emotional devastation, betrayal, and Peter collecting father figures like infinity stones, we finally get the massive all-out brawl between Team Cap and Team Tony. And when I say massive, I mean half the Marvel Universe is throwing hands in the middle of New York City. Superpowered beings are crashing through buildings, explosions are going off everywhere, and don't ask me why they thought “protecting civilians” and “obliterating the city” were compatible ideas.

Steve and Tony really do go at it like two exes who just found out they were sleeping with the same person (Peter, doll, what are you doing? Kidding, kidding).

Steve is beating the absolute shit out of Tony, and Tony—who is running on the fumes of guilt and exhaustion—lets him.

Because Tony is ready to die. That’s right. Tony, who has been holding onto control like his life depends on it (because it literally does), just gives up, drops the metaphorical gloves, and basically tells Steve: “Go ahead, finish it.”

And Steve almost does.

(Not to draw parallels here, but Bucky tried to pull the same move with him and proceed with murder-kill when he was brainwashed. What's Steve's excuse here?)

Like, Steve almost wins. The Resistance might not have, but Steve does. He is seconds away from beating Tony to actual death in the middle of the nightmare they’ve caused—but then. Civilians. Regular-ass, non-superpowered, completely terrified people tackle Steve to the ground.

They’re not protecting Tony (maybe a little, it's up for debate, see the panels)—they’re stopping Steve. Because holy shit, Steve. Look at what you’ve done. Steve does. Look. And finally sees it.

The destruction, the sheer chaos, the city that’s half in ruins because of this war. He sees the fear in their eyes and realizes that this isn’t about freedom anymore. He’s lost the plot. They’ve all kind of lost the plot, and someone has to give up, and he will not let Tony beat him to it.

So, Steve. Fucking. Stops.

He takes off his mask, drops his shield, and says, “It’s over.” He turns himself in. He turns Steve Rogers in specifically, essentially following the law, and Team Cap officially loses the war.

At the end of this, Tony—bruised, in desperate need of a good fuck (hey, Bucky, where you at?), and still internally monologuing about how the fuck his life turned into this—is appointed Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. And this is how, after so many words, christ, the Civil War officially, techically ends, and the winteriron timeline can properly begin. Happy tears, I am crying happy tears right now.

So, Part 3 of this ‘brief’ (lol) timeline is coming ASAP, and it does deliver on some juicy Bucky and Tony interactions—actual on-page moments, not just me connecting the angst dots with wishful thinking, promise.

And if you’re thinking things might slow down now—oh, my sweet summer child. We are only just getting to the fun part, since Captain America essentially becomes Bucky’s comic book. The stakes are different, the players have shifted, but Tony and Bucky finally start existing in the same space.

If Civil War was crazy, what happens next is the part where we go off the rails entirely in the best possible way.

To confirm, where we are:

Bucky is in the wind but possibly smoking cigars with Fury.

Bad guys who were ignored for this Event do have some plotty evil planned.

Tony is in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D. and he still has to keep hunting down anti-registration supers.

Steve is alive and in jail. For now.

And Peter—oh God, I have to mention this, because I must, and this just further confirms that some of the editors were shipping Peter with someone other than MJ.

So, Peter is an absolute disaster, thanks for asking. And if you know comic books and reading this just to laugh at me getting shit wrong and are wondering, “Wow, does she about to mention One More Day?”—yes. Yes, I am. And I don’t want to talk about it. But I will, just for a second.

One More Day (2007) is Marvel committing a crime against humanity.

It’s a four-issue arc where Marvel editorial decided Peter was too happy and needed to suffer more, so they erased his marriage to MJ from existence. (Ah, yeah, he was married to her this whole time, in case I didn’t mention it, but I was too busy pushing Starker on people if the winteriron angle didn’t work out.)

Basically, after Civil War, Peter’s life goes to absolute hell. He unmasked, so every villain with a grudge is coming for him, Kingpin puts out a hit, and Aunt May gets shot.

Peter, being the absolute hero of a man that he is, tries everything to save her. He begs Tony for help (doesn’t work). He tries to make a deal with Doctor Strange (doesn’t work). And just when it looks like May is going to die, the literal devil (Mephisto) shows up and is like, “Hey, Pete, what if I saved your aunt, but in exchange, I erased your marriage to MJ from existence so you two never got married and will never be happy together?”

And Peter and MJ actually say yes. BOOM. Years of character development and one of Marvel’s most iconic relationships is GONE, conveniently removing all that pesky guilt when Peter flirts with older men.

So, Aunt May lives, but now Peter and MJ were never married, and no one remembers he unmasked during Civil War. The comic book fandom hates it. The writers regret it. Everyone pretends it didn’t happen. Marvel did make a movie about this though, kinda. Also kidding. But for real, it’s one of the most infamous and universally despised retcons in Marvel history.

And on that cheerful and very nerdy note, thank you for reading.

[eli-alys]

(my main blog is @elialys, currently using this sideblog to post my newsreader feels/gifs because tumblr shadowbanned me on sunday for sending s3 to people 💀 anyway, this post was written a few days ago)

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I took notes on my immediate feelings after watching each episode of season 3 of The Newsreader, it’s helped with the “AAAAAAH” emotions that binging such an intense show cause, plus I figured quite a few of you might share my feels. It’s mostly me screaming, and it’s a tad disjointed as you can imagine, but blame the show for breaking my brain.

SPOILERS UNDER THE READ MORE!!

3.01 Night of Nights

I’ve honestly watched the first two seasons so many times in the past year that I forgot all about that HEAVY DREAD FEELING NEW EPISODES OF THIS SHOW MAKE ME FEEL. And I’m guessing it’s not going to get any better as the season progresses 😭 They truly are so good at creating the scenes with high energy, feeling so IMMEDIATE, and Helen’s anxiety never fails to trigger mine, so 🥲

Speaking of Helen, I’m going to need to rewatch the season a second time fairly fast because as always whenever I watch something new with Anna, I am too busy thinking “SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL” in a loop to pay attention to most of what she’s saying. But she is, I absolutely LOVE the new look in season 3, the shorter hair is perfect, her logie look was gorgeous, she looked so beautiful, and then she looked even better at the end when she was all casual at her house, in jeans and with barely any make up ❤️ ANYWAY, that’s my initial, mandatory gushing about the “Anna is gorgeous” aspect of things.

This episode was a whirlwind honestly, so many things to take in already, many many emotions were felt. I love how they are setting up the pieces for the rest of the season, the way they always do. I already want to slap Rob and protect Noelene at all costs from all those men. Lindsay needs to DIE ALREADY, I swear to god if he’s not run over by a bus by the end of this show 😡

Okay let me gush over Helen a bit more substantially. I love how FAST she was hit in the face by the reality of being back in Australia, with all the network bullshit. This poor woman has so much fucking trauma associated with this industry and the way they treated her, even at the height of her career, being offered this prime time show, she still doubts herself and the legitimacy of it. The way her anxiety took over, her fighting it, I know these are just the first cracks of the season 😭 PLEASE let our girl get a proper diagnosis and proper help by the end of this I BEG YOU SHOW. Needless to say I still absolutely adore the way Anna portrays her, always saying so much in all those moments she has zero lines of dialogue.

Dale. Dale Dale Dale. DALE IS DEAD INSIDE. Him saying he felt NOTHING standing there receiving his award? Him clearly being dead inside while having a man stripping in front of him, at his request? MY SWEET WET NOODLE, WHERE IS YOUR SOUL? I love the fact that I *know* they’re setting him up to being BROKEN this season, and I cannot wait. BREAK HIM. LET HIM FEEL THINGS AGAIN. I AM READY TO HURT WITH HIM.

Serious talk though, THE HELEN x DALE CONTENT IN THIS EPISODE???? 😭😭😭😭 Minute one in the restaurant, you can tell the love is still there. Minute two you can also tell they’re still shit at communicating so hahaha joke is on us as much as on them. Helen saying he was her only non-disaster yet they were pretty disastrous and him just…“I don’t think we were” DALE MY MAN YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME.

Don’t get me started on Helen losing her shit at the logies realizing she was going to “betray” Dale. Her trying NOT TO SAY IT. DALE’S SPEECH 30 SECONDS LATER THANKING HELEN FOR SEEING THE NEWSREADER IN HIM????? 😭😭😭

You know last year I loved talking about how Noelene and Rob’s relationship acted as a foil to Helen and Dale’s (as did Gerry and Carla’s), with them actually talking things through when Helen and Dale did not. This episode was another beautiful example of this, with the focus being put on Noelene being (RIGHTFULLY) upset that Rob just threw the “oh, and my wife” line in his speech when she fucking produced that show, and HERE IS DALE JENNINGS, on stage, thanking Helen for seeing him and making this possible for him, WHEN THEY ARE BROKEN UP AND ESTRANGED.

ALSO, talking of parallels, the hotel scene KILLED ME. I believe it was a VERY DELIBERATED CHOICE by Emma to frame Dale and that man the way she did, because that’s basically how Dale and Helen were framed in that hotel scene at the end of 2x01.

And Helen hoping so hard that they can remain “friends” despite the competition, when everything on Dale’s face tells you “naaaaah not gonna happen” but he smiles his empty smile and says “yeaaah sure” 😭 HE’S GONNA TAPE ALL OF HER SHOWS THOUGH BECAUSE HE’S DALE.

Anyway so much more to say, but I still want to watch another episode before attempting sleep, I need to find myself a paper bag to breathe in.

(just realized I didn’t mention the Dale and Kay thing once, but I think that says a lot in itself, no offence to Kay but NO THANK YOU)

(((Also, I hate the wig. I hate it so much)))

3.02 A New Era

(This ended up being me live commenting this episode because I kept getting so anxious/upset that I had to take breaks)

“Human conversations are not this boy’s strong suit” Lindsay, I hate you, but this does describe Dale a little too well.

Evelyn butting in and listening in to her daughter’s phone conversation with Dale is such an Evelyn thing to do. Also, look, I am aware that Kay and Dale are unsubstantial at this stage of the show and they’re only doing this to get us riled up, but guess what? IT IS WORKING.

Currently taking a pause from the episode because Lindsay is being a fucking ass and trying to feed Helen’s team fake news for her to read on her first show is STRESSING ME OUT I CANNOT DO THIS.

Ugh, the “HELEN’S MENTAL HEALTH” MUSICAL THEME KICKING OFF IN THE BACKGROUND FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS SEASON I AM NOT READY.

Aaaand indeed, I was not ready, crying actual tears at Helen losing her shit at work in front of everyone, this is going to be a long season I AM FINE 😭

GUYS EVERYONE IS SCREAMING IN THIS EPISODE WHAT THE HELL I LOVE IT BUT I CAN’T TAKE IT

God Vincent’s comment about how she’s the first woman on a prime time show and we “can’t even see her tits” I want to kill all those men I SWEAR TO GOD

I am dying inside at the PARALLELS of Helen and Dale watching a tape of Helen’s first show, which was shit, while Dale kicked ass, like THIS IS HOW THE SHOW STARTED BUT WITH THEIR PLACES SWITCHED.

I keep having to pause this episode, I’m so upset at Helen being told off by her new boss for having mental health issues that interfere with her work, I clearly did not buy enough tissues for this season. I mean, it HAS to be addressed, she does have to seek PROPER help, but the way it’s just…thrown at her, always, it’s too real and heartbreaking. THE PATRONIZING!!!

Not gonna lie, kinda loving the fact that Dale is learning to assert himself with his man friend he pays for sex and that he’s learning to use those skills with Lindsay. Somehow it’s unsettling and awkward and very Dale and I’m thriving.

I wanted to talk a little about Noelene and baby Hana (and Rob lol) because CONGRATS NOELENE, but right now I’m too busy ugly crying over that scene of Helen admitting to the psychiatrist that she’s been struggling her whole life. Oh this punched me in the GUTS.

That’s my cue to take a break and get some sleep, dear lord, my own mental health is not equipped for this.

~~

Alright, back at at it after less than 5h of sleep, I don’t foresee myself crying less. I’ve been thinking about the first couple episodes over and over, and I’ve realized the start of this season feels skewed. And a big part of it is because of Dale.

In those first two episodes, Helen is more alive than ever, full of emotions that overwhelm her, and you FEEL for her. Usually, I feel that for Dale, too, with his big wet eyes and the constant panic in 2/3 of the scenes he’s in. But so far this season? I feel nothing, except concern for him. He’s just empty, he’s pretending with everyone, at work, with Kay, with Helen. He’s struggling to be in control in any way he can, paying for what I can’t really describe as intimacy, since he’s using those moments to try asserting any kind of control.

Plus, he’s got a terrible wig, but I’m aware that’s mostly me overfixating on it.

I also know something’s gotta give. I’m suspecting episode 3 will do that, one way or another.

It's 6am, let’s gooooo

3.03 Behind the Front Line

HOLY HELL, this episode came for me!!! My favorite one of the season so far, shockingly I know haha, with it containing Helen’s long awaited diagnosis and that famous improv scene at her house.

Let me say it again: HOLY HELL 😭😭😭

I seriously love the way they handled Helen learning what her diagnosis is, from her figuring it out on her own by doing research, to her losing her shit as a result of her psychiatrist confirming it. I’ve figured it was borderline personality disorder a long time ago when I first watched the show and did research before starting to write fanfic about her, because I wanted to understand her better and be mindful in the way I wrote her, and like her doctor said, she ticked so many of those boxes.

Don’t get me started on how Dale reassures her with “All I see is you” to counter her saying he must have seen it, must have known. He’s not brushing off or denying the messiest parts of her, he’s acknowledging them, basically saying it’s always been part of her, and he’s loved her as she was and as she is. Beautiful, beautiful scene, Anna’s acting was insane, absolutely insane, cannot wait to rewatch it in a loop until every frame is carved in my neurodivergent brain.

I am so worried for my boy Dale though, he’s so fucking dead inside. Still practicing sounding normal in front of mirrors, like the beautiful neurospicy human that he is. Helen being surprised that he’s throwing himself a birthday party and him being literally “it’s a social event, it’s a normal thing to do” DALE MY LOVE YOU ARE ALLOWED NOT TO FIT IN.

I do not trust whatever is going on between him and Kay. I don’t understand how anyone can fall for Dale *right now*. Like I get why both Helen and Tim were swooning over Dale in s1 because he was so squishy and nerdy and sweet and full of tears, but THIS Dale Kay is interacting with? HE’S A SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING. He’s just as much of a lifeless husk on the desk as he is away from it and IT HURTS MY SOUL. So yeah, Kay saying “I love the way you make me feel” I’m just??? Also, the fact that she keeps comparing him to her dad, haha. Anyway, I don’t sense this ‘relationship’ going anywhere healthy given the state of things.

Also, LINDSAY???? He didn’t actually give Noelene her maternity leave, at all???? Being a fucking racist???? Crashing the party and having a temper tantrum???? I am not surprised by any of this but god this man deserves a heart attack or a stroke for fuck’s sake.

Noelene is absolutely fabulous, LOVE the way she just said fuck it and gave the story to Helen, then JOINED Helen, like YES QUEEEEEEENS.

I have no idea what to expect for the second half of the season, although I suspect since the first half was more about Helen’s mental health and job, the second half will focus more on Dale’s mental health and job, as in, I’m waiting for him to break. Guessing the 6th and final episode titled “The Fall” might feature a bit of that. Our boy is drinking a lot. Like, A LOT.

3.04 One Team, All Brothers

Ugh. UGH.

I always loved how this show handles complex topics, and this episode was as strong as ever. I’m GLAD Rob’s attitude toward racism was brought to light, Noelene absolutely killed it. Rob’s scene with Deano…man 😭

Equally loved Helen’s journey through this episode, how she’s trying to help but as always she’s confronted to people around her not wanting to stir the pot, and how in the end, she is just another “white woman” because, well, she is. LYNUS THOUGH, so so glad to have more of him, he’s so wonderful ❤️

I am so so in love with the way they show Helen working so hard on not losing it at work, using strategies and calling her therapist like, I can’t remember seeing this side of mental health portrayed on tv like this before, it is so validating. And watching it WORK, watching how it allows her to ground herself. And sure it might not always work, but at least she’s being given the tools to handle those overwhelming emotions, and I’m so proud of her.

Talking of in love, I did not see the “I’m in love with you” from Bill thing coming, but I am here for the drama. I don’t even blame this man, he spent months with her overseas where she was clearly thriving, he got to see the best side of her, and yeah, we’ve all been there, Bill. Curious to see how that’s going to impact the next two episodes because talk about awkward, he’s executive producer 💀

NERVOUS about the Kay and Dale thing. They make me uncomfortable, as stated in my previous comments for episode 3, this is not love, this is them using each other for very different reasons. Nervous about Dale’s escort not being as discreet in the future as Dale hopes he’ll be. Also, EVELYN?? I get that she’s “looking out for her daughter” but what a fucking bitch, as Helen would say.

Also I just gotta say, that bit at the start, with Helen and Dale watching those parodies of themselves :’)) How Helen is just finding it all so hilarious, including the parody of her (which is so funny honestly), while Dale is just…well, dead inside, BECAUSE THAT IS JUST DALE’S DEFAULT MODE THIS SEASON.

God I do hope we start seeing him crack soon, I am so desperate for some EMOTIONS FROM HIM. And I gotta say, this show as always is great at surprising me. 4 episodes out of 6, and so far, none of the ‘ugly competition’ between Helen and Dale I was expecting/fearing from the promo and season synopsis. Yes their shows are against one another, timewise, and yes, there’s competition between networks, but it’s like, in the background, and it’s not seemed to have impacted whatever version of ‘friendship’ they both have at the moment. I put ‘friendship’ in quotes because well, see my “DALE IS DEAD INSIDE” comments. This poor man is just existing right now.

I’m wondering if Helen is so focused on her show and working on herself (as she should ❤️) and just happy that Dale is still part of her life in some capacity, that she’s not yet gone “hey honey, you look and sound a little like a fucking zombie, let’s talk about this”. I’m also thinking, between their schedules and him dating Kay, they don’t actually see each other that often, and never for long. I’m just…I want someone to ACKNOWLEDGE that Dale is not doing well, and I would 1000% appreciate it most if it was Helen 😭

3.05 On the Brink

There is something incredibly sad in the fact that Helen’s comments on air, about how shame and isolation are what makes having mental health issues so unbearable, are being said on a show that takes place in 1989, yet are still extremely relevant to this day, 35 years later. There has been great progress, but not enough. It’s 2025 and struggling with anxiety or depression, or anything of the sort, is STILL so misunderstood by most people, still hush hush.

That being said, I am so incredibly moved, so so grateful, that the show has chosen to bring so much light on mental health through Helen. I’m going to need to process everything in this episode but that was beautifully cathartic, can’t quite talk about it properly yet.

Also, absolutely heartbroken about Dale completely spiraling, between the drinking and the drugs, while being fucking blackmailed. The final episode clearly is called “The Fall” for a very good reason 😭 A little terrified to watch it, as it will be THE END, so I’m going to make myself some lunch instead. But given how beautifully they’ve handled Helen’s story in those last 5 episodes, I absolutely trust that they put just as much care in Dale’s breaking point. I also trust the fact that in the past, whenever one of them broke, the other was there to catch them. And I cannot wait for that.

One last thing about this episode, I feel like Helen turning down Bill is another proof of the progress she’s made. She has a fear of abandonment, she latches on to people who are showing her the slightest bit of love, of attention, even when it’s the toxic kind, and she’s not been shy about seeking pleasure. And here you have this man who’s telling her he loves her, who’s her boss (another pattern in her previous lifestyle), and she says no.

I am so proud of her 😭

3.06 The Fall

This was so fucking hard to watch. The first part of it with Dale’s breakdown, absolutely heartbreaking, I was literally clutching at my face and hiding my eyes at times. The self-loathing was difficult to WATCH, I just…Sam Reid, what the fuck, his performance. It WAS like watching a trainwreck in real time. The part with him hitting himself, and listening to those awful audience comments over and over and over again 😭 This man was in so much pain, and SO touch-starved, needing real connection but not finding it 😭

It did bother me that they made the plot decision to just....let Dale sit on that desk, CLEARLY DRUNK and looking the way he did, when a few episodes ago, Helen was sent home straight away when she tried doing her show while drunk/high. If they couldn’t keep him off the desk at least don’t go live and put the “technical issues” screen on, and DON’T LEAVE HIM ON AIR FOR SO LONG.

God Lindsay really is a fucking villain, him looming over Dale, just…the psychological abuse was so so hard to watch.

He didn’t just deserve to be sacked, HE DESERVED TO BE RUN OVER BY A BUS. That being said I’m extremely glad the show ended with him gone, and Dennis stepping in.

Ugh I absolutely love Noelene telling Helen exactly what she thinks. Not only did she stand up for herself, she also gave Helen the last push she needed to call the shots for HER show.

The image of her being the lone woman at that table full of men once again berating her, was so damn powerful, ESPECIALLY the way she just let them have their trantrum, only to calmly tell them “No” and step away like, QUEEN.

Oh and Helen's "I'm not gonna be punished because I didn't want to fuck you" to Bill?

The Helen x Dale content was so scarce this season, but I don’t actually mind it? Like, the shipper in me mourns the fact that we didn’t get more and will never get more, but I’m a fic writer, I’ll make more 😏 I am 150% happy with the fact that they focused so much more on Helen’s journey through taking care of her mental health, and Dale stepping away from this toxic, TOXIC environment.

Also all the call backs to season 1 guys, I cannot 😭 Her ‘rescuing’ him, the dialogue being almost exactly the same from the pilot 😭😭😭 Not gonna lie the fact that it’s basically how I started my own “helen x dale post s2 fix it fic” over a year ago gives me warm feelings. Also, I am terrible person for thinking this but when Dale told his mum that what was in the paper was true (about him being with men) and he said “I love you, I hope you can still love me” and she said NOTHING? I thought “well I’m not so sorry I killed you off in my fic now” because?!!! 🙃 I’m sure she’ll come around and everything, she STAYED with him, but it's still a gut punch compared to Helen’s “I love you just the way you are” in season 1 after he told her the truth.

Honestly, I didn’t know what kind of ending I wanted for these two as a pair, except that this is what I was hoping for, since I figured there wouldn’t me any romantic ending. Them CLEARLY in each other’s lives, clearly better when they have each other, with me free to imagine that when Dale comes home from Germany, he smooches the hell out of Helen and they get acquainted with her couch again :’))

(you know she's thinking about that couch)

(can we blame her? LOOK AT HIM)

I’m going to need to rewatch this season at least once or twice in the next week to really take it all in. I am so sad that it’s over, overwhelmed with so many emotions after taking it all in so fast, but also very content. I feel they wrapped everyone’s storyline beautifully, and left us on a GOOD, positive note, full of hope.

And again, so beyond grateful for how truly Helen focused this last season was.

God that was so beautiful.

[psychagoguedigitalmusical]

Epic: The Musical - Lyric Textual Analysis 2 - Just a Man

(Skip to the end if you want to just see my analysis of The Infant and the Horse.)

Part 2 in my series of basic textual analysis of every song from Epic: The Musical. In this entry, I'm looking at Just a Man. Go look at part 1 for my approach for this post series, but TL;DR I am going through the exercise of looking closely at each song to see what information is explicitly and implicitly conveyed to the audience through the lyrics alone.

Just a Man is definitely up there in terms of my favorites from Epic. I'm a sucker for a good character study, and I gotta say that this is a strong way to establish a character and his moral character right out of the gate so have definitive traits to build on over the course of his journey. Also that one part of the music (you know which one) is just completely captivating.

This song is shorter than The Infant and the Horse, so there's not as much here to analyze, just from a "quantity of text" perspective. Also, as you'll see, pretty much nothing actually happens plotwise. Explicitly, he only looks at the baby. That's it lol. Considering that the first song had a higher proportion of explicit plot information, and this one is almost entirely implicit characterization, I think that does make sense. Establish and introduce first, characterize second, and then bam, you've set up your foundation to tell the rest of your story with. Makes sense to me.

With that all being said, here's the link to the spreadsheet. It's in View-Only mode and I'll be adding new tabs over the course of this analysis series. As always, supporting quotes and additional notes on each of these points are contained within.

Without further ado:

Epic: The Musical - Lyric Textual Analysis 2 - Just a Man

Central Conflict:

"How could I hurt you?"

Odysseus struggles with the moral implications of needing to kill a defenseless child in order to make it home and keep his family safe.

Resolution:

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home"

Odysseus ultimately decides to kill the child, though it weighs on his conscious.

Thesis Quote (Fundamental question or philosophy):

"When does a man become a monster?"

What factual information do we explicitly learn about the situation?

Odysseus looks into the infant son of Hector's eyes and contemplates the choice he was faced with of whether to kill him.

What factual information do we implicitly learn about the situation?

Odysseus kills the child.

What factual information do we explicitly learn about a character?

Odysseus has a son at home who was a baby when he left for war 10 years ago.

Odysseus has killed many people before.

Odysseus has been away from home for many years. (Was previously established)

What factual information do we implicitly learn about a character?

Telemachus is Odysseus' son, and he is approximately 10 years old.

What information do we explicitly learn about a character's relationships, perspectives, or philosophies?

Odysseus is strongly motivated by a desire to go home. (Was previously established)

Odysseus feels as though he is fighting for his life.

Odysseus would sacrifice a lot if it led to him being able to return home to his family.

Odysseus seeks forgiveness for his actions.

What information do we implicitly learn about a character's relationships, perspectives, or philosophies?

Odysseus and Telemachus do not know each other well.

Odysseus worries about the guilt he will carry from killing. He already carries at least some guilt from his actions that he believes might never go away.

Odysseus is capable of committing an action that will cause him guilt and shame while still going through with it, albeit reluctantly.

When faced with guilt and shame over his actions, one of Odysseus' coping mechanisms is to try to justify it.

Odysseus accepts that he is not perfect and is subject to selfishness just like other people.

Odysseus wants to live by his morals. Odysseus does not want to become a monster. Odysseus considers a "monster" to commit immoral acts.

Odysseus worries that continual actions against his morals will erode his humanity and he fears that he may be on a slippery slope to become a monster without realizing it.

Odysseus knows that his justification of "I'm just a man" is ultimately an excuse for his selfish decision.

I don't know about you, but I see a lot about Odysseus' characterization that is established here, just in song 2/40 that gets revisited, challenged, and transformed over the course of Epic. I think it will be an interesting exercise later down the line to group together characterizations that are either re-established or intentionally contradictory and plot them over the course of his journey to track the overall character arc and pinpoint exactly how certain events change him.

Anyways, my brain's fried, so I'm gonna log off for now and go touch some grass or something. Next post might not be for a little while since it's back to work tomorrow (garfieldMondays.jpg), and then I'll be out of town for some family stuff for a few days. But I will consistently return with more Epic analysis and Psychagogue development posts. On that topic, go check out my Psychagogue concepts post if you haven't already. It's still quite rough, but we're still at the beginning of the journey, all things considered.

That's all for now. I'll leave you with this quote from Arin "Egoraptor "Game Grumps"" Hanson.

[lokis-coconut28]

Unbound - Chapter 1: The Keeper's Bond

(Loki x Magic Female Reader)

(A/N) : Hi my lovelies! Apologies for my absence, I appreciate your patience with me...

*The last month has been particularly challenging. I continue to recover from surgery, I turned a year older, and I ended a near decade long relationship. As I continue navigating these emotions, I find comfort here, among you all, my friends 💚*

(I am hesitant to post this fic, it has lived in my drafts for quite some time. As a new writer, I'm scared to take on a multi-chapter fic! But - I hope that you enjoy where I'm going with it!) (It's not as elegantly written as I'd like, but indulge me...) & I am happy to be back! You all inspire me so much!

I appreciate your support and comfort now more than ever. Please have grace with any errors - I forgot how to write amidst the chaos and heartbreak...

Please feel free to drop me a message about anything/a pic of Loki or David Bowie (I'm currently chokeheld by Jareth)

Summary: Loki has been watching over you from his new throne... With his feelings on the line, he makes a bold decision to bond to your mind.

Word Count : 2.5k

Warnings: Slight touch of NSFW/Voyeurism in Ch 1

Happy Reading my Loves! 🖤

A throne, buried in the infinite void of space and time, was not what Loki had expected for his life’s purpose. Never truly wanting the throne, yet in a twist of fate, finding himself tethered to it for eternity, was an irony that laughed at him in an endless echo throughout the multiverses. 

Exploring realities in the palms of his hands was a delicate craft. The responsibility, accepting the intricacies of overseeing an incalculable amount of timelines without interference or interjection was no small task. Observation had become a makeshift game to Loki, honing in on a multitude of lifeforms, seeking out what connection he could from afar, cherishing emotions of plenty in the vast cosmos which thrummed through his hands. 

A new desolate reality, ever flowing, impalpable, washed through Loki. A sobering wave crashed into him over and over again, reminding him that this was life now.

In the darkest of hours, he allowed his head to lower and rest, obsidian horns digging deep into his temples, a torment unlike any Loki had endured before. Despite the stillness around him, an unrelenting gravitational pressure crawled around his head, eerily creeping into a chokehold around his neck. A force strong enough to extract tears from a god. 

The weight of the crown had proven to be heavy, in more ways than one. 

The pull of the timelines forged on, wrapping serpent-like, circling Loki’s wrists; binding him to the seated throne. 

The intensity of holding limitless lives extracted a toll on Loki’s physical form. In secret, he wished he could put the weight down - if only for a moment. Knowing he could not, knowing he was destined to this role for eternity - these thoughts spiraled in his mind, plaguing his thoughts like a broken record with every passing second. 

Attempting to shake the burden of eternal responsibility, Loki let his eyes fall shut, concentrating on the only thing that brought the god solace in his isolation. Locating you. 

Loki had observed millions of souls in his quest to pass time. Asgardians, Midgardians, creatures from planets and realms that in all of his centuries he had never once discovered. He found comfort in busying himself with watching the lives of beings across the galaxies, across time, into the promise of forever. 

Yet, in his observation of the entirety of space and time, Loki had never encountered a living soul quite like yours. There was something particularly special about you, a unique aura standing out as a bright star in the atramentous eternal sky. Loki felt an unexplainable pull to your life force - a pulsing chemistry, as though you were two magnets coming together in an unyielding draw. 

Curiosity propelled Loki’s focus to you, solely. You were a powerful enchantress, a formidable force to be sure. Intrigue, he decided, was the proper feeling he had for you… at first. It did not go unnoticed, the way you effortlessly wielded your own powers, harmonious with the mysterious magic you possessed. Unlike himself, unlike most everyone in the multiverses, Loki could find no other variants of you. Scanning all of the timelines, he quickly realized you were a one of a kind entity - a rare anomaly that captured the attention of the God of Stories. 

Loki shifted in the throne, straining his forearms as he found you within the malachite cordage that resided in his grasp. Using all of his might, he concentrated on your energy, barely able to locate you through a thick veil of unfamiliar magic. Adjusting his grip on the timeline, the veins in his arm thrummed, focusing deeply, eyes finally landing upon your form.

For the first time, he could see your face clearly as you walked alone, your breath puffing into a small cloud of moisture as you exhaled into the cold night. Your hair softly fell around your face, bouncing delicately in tandem with each footstep. The clang of your black leather boots echoed with each hurried stride as you made your way across the damp cobblestone street. Your beauty was so effortless & charming, Loki found it hard to pull his gaze from you. Though out of reach, you were absolutely enchanting. 

To be near you - Loki imagined, slowly drawing in deep breath, inhaling at the sudden fluttering that had manifested in his core.

Abruptly, a frigid gust of wind commanded the hair on the back of your neck to raise, causing you to fuss with the herringbone scarf that stylishly looped around your collar. You took a moment to peer up at the night sky as you raised the hood of your coat to rest upon the crown of your head. The dazzling beauty of the stars twinkling above forced you to stop and appreciate the divine display. A brilliant wave of emerald light appeared overhead, dancing elegantly in a private show, eliciting a shy smile from your lips. 

Your eyes creased, squinting at a particularly bright star. Your gaze lingered on it with a subconscious level of expectancy.

“I’m not sure I’ve seen you before”, you remarked at the unfamiliar celestial orb, as if it would answer back if you asked it their name. 

Loki stilled as you tilted your head in wonderment, imagining you could somehow see him through the vastness of space, somehow sense his presence. He wanted to believe you could. 

“Stunning” you whispered quietly, letting out a contented sigh as you continued on your path into the darkness.

As time went on, your voice became a symphony in the silence. Your expressions became their own motion pictures that played in an endless loop within Loki’s mind. Watching you cast your spells as deliberately and cautiously as a painter stroking a canvas, Loki never tired of watching you. He admired your skill, your intelligence, as you worked with magic that was foreign to him. Somehow, these stolen glances and sacred moments seemed like a secret kept between the two of you. 

Loki let out a disgruntled sigh, reminding himself once more that you did not, and you would not ever know him. He silently cursed, knowing he could never interfere. Yet, perhaps… 

It had started as a simple trial, a test spell easily woven and rooted to your mind. A small magical connection tethering his mind to yours. Nothing more than to ensure your protection, to ensure your safety.

The moment that Loki had cast this spell upon you, practicing his illusionary craft became somewhat of a game, hiding himself from your mind, blending in with the shadows of your thoughts. 

Ilusion - an art form that Loki had mastered over centuries. Invisibility he found easy, but ignoring the intoxicating pull of the spellbound bond he had formed…This was much more difficult. 

He had not intended for the bond to grow so strong. At first, it was a fleeting trick, a slow dancing flame, a soft whisper that lived on the edge of his consciousness. Only a way to ensure your safety, a way to pass time. 

Yet each time he sensed your own mind within his, something inside of him tightened, even yearned for you. An undeniable ache that he refused to put a name to. 

As months time passed, the bond strengthened greatly. The lie that he told himself - of safety and precaution - seemingly dissolved, transforming into something…more. The sense of nobility, of being your protector from afar, alarmingly shifted to a forbidding feeling. Longing. 

The forged connection had become an addiction. Each night, Loki would find himself utterly intoxicated in your mind; voyeuristically watching you in your realm. Inhaling a breath of your conciousness and warmth. He let his eyes flutter shut, mesmerised by the comfort of your dreams. He would allow the sensation - of your joy and laughter - to quell a pain deeply buried inside of him.

While the burdened promise of protecting the timelines echoed throughout his mind, his focus was no longer entirely occupied by the task at hand - by the mission of being on the throne - but by you. Stolen glances into your reality, physical proximity cradled if only by illusion in his dreams and waking fantasies, lit a wick in his core - promising an explosion in his heart if he did not start to take precautions with his feelings. But... with your presence in front of him, his mind could rest, and he could be at ease. 

Loki often found himself wondering what it would feel like to hear your soothing voice call his name. He longed to be seen, not just by anyone—by you. It was a laborious struggle, this mix of euphoria and sorrow - wanting nothing but happiness for you, no matter which timeline you were in… yet.. still, in his quietest moments, he would let himself dream, selfishly wishing it was him you’d say goodnight to, if only just once.

When hope slipped away, time and time again, he would lower his gaze, seeking refuge from the relentless thoughts. But…he knew he would always come back to you.

‘How could I not?’...  

This particular night, when the weight of your own day had been laid to rest, Loki sought out your mind in the dark. An intense wave of sensual indulgence erupted through his body as he allowed himself to siphon the sensation of your solitary pleasure. Pleasure. A feeling that had been lost in the spacial abyss for quite some time. He would not turn his gaze upon you, as you allowed yourself to be consumed by self gratification... your most intimate moments. Closing his eyes, as if to give you privacy, he tried to remember how long it had been since he himself had had an intimate moment. He could only imagine the pleasure of being able to truly hold you, gently kissing your lips, moving together in perfect harmony. A passionate embrace, bodies gently entwining in the most sacred of acts, whispering promises of love to you between soft moans.

Love. Love?

Loki suddenly froze, eyes snapping open at the realization of the emotion he had nonverbally named. He slowly straightened his posture against the back of the cold seat, timelines clawing heavily at the lines in his palms. Feeling a heated dagger in his heart, ignoring the way his anatomy had betrayed him having been lost in the forbidden sensation of your reality, he scolded himself for imagining something so real. His throat bobbed as he inhaled a breath of the emptiness surrounding him, immediately reprimanding himself once more for indulging in your pleasure, and crossing the boundary he swore he would not. 

Love. 

Loki scoffed defensively, bringing himself back to reality. No longer did he get the privilege of feeling love, care, companionship. Sacrifice - a heavier toll than he ever would have imagined. A familiar sadness wrapped around his throat, threatening to extract tears.

The reality was, no matter what realm you were in, no matter what he felt, how much he wished he could speak to you, just once - it was impossible now - given his choice and commitment to guard the timelines, for freedom. 

For them. For you. 

Loki repeated this mantra to himself, a reminder of his motives, remembering the god he wanted to be. 

The chokehold of grief elicited a small sob from the deepest shadows of his soul, in part from the guilt of using his own power to feel companionship, to feel love, under the guise of protection, and in part from the sorrow of never being able to return back to life in the timelines. Never getting a chance to be near you, even if only as a stranger passing by in the bustle of your daily life.

Purpose. A heavier burden than he ever knew to be possible. 

On a particularly quiet night, lost in a deep slumber, you dreamt of a distant soul, calling to you in a soft, fleeting whisper. The stranger seemed gentle, but their voice was heavily laced with pain and agony as they cried out to you, calling your name, in a desperate plea to be heard.

You were abruptly jolted awake by a searing burn on your skin, branching through your hands like lightning, leaving a scorching imprint in the flesh of your trembling palms. You inhaled sharply as you inspected the marks that remained. 

“Magic.” You whispered, quickly swinging your legs to the side of your bed, sitting upright as you studied the light coursing through your hands.  

A power unfamiliar to you, almost alive, flared from the tips of your fingers to your wrist. A bright green rope-like illumination emanated from your upturned palms.

The magic throbbed, as if fueled by someone else’s spark. Your hands ached as the heat ripped through your skin, sinking deeper into your flesh. In the silence of the night, the foreign magic coursed through your veins, the power pulsing in a heartbeat that was not your own. 

You willed your own frost-blue glow to spill from your fingertips. Shimmering wisps curled around each digit, delicately twisting around the emerald that had been etched onto your body. Instinctively, you closed your eyes and willed your own strands of magic to reach out to the power that had called to you in your sleep.

Then you sensed him. A stranger's soul, ethereal, almost faint. With forceful intention, you strengthened the bond to his magic. His presence was a distant echo, lingering in the air around you, but veiled in the mist of time and space. The presence was elusive and fleeting, barely detectable in your mind and senses. Persisting, you extended your power, finally reaching the source you had been searching for. 

A smoldering silence lingered in the air for a moment. You felt the unmistakable weight of eyes upon you. With a swift motion, you spread your hands, lighting the room, your gaze searching for the shadowed figure watching you.

“I know you’re here,” You cautiously broke silence, your words bouncing off of the walls in the empty room. “Physically or not.” 

Another empty moment passed. 

“Please, say something…” Your words brushed against the air like a feather, soft and pleading, a hushed request that somehow seemed to carry more weight than any shout ever could. 

Rippling through the silence, his voice reached you. Soft, low, coming from nowhere yet surrounding you everywhere at once. Time stood still as a hum so low and delicate found you.

“I... am not supposed to be here..." 

“Please, don’t leave...” you pleaded gently, your voice laced with a quiet reassurance. “You don’t have to say a word… just stay, if only for a moment.”

The silence was suffocating, thick enough to feel, as if the air itself had frozen in place. It pressed against your ears, louder than any noise, almost deafening in its stillness.

“You don’t understand what this means…”

The voice pressed through the hushed air. Your heart ached at the way his voice cracked with desperation. His emotion was raw, the mix of regret and longing, the weight of the forbidden moments spilling in a tremble from his lips like honey.

“For either of us.” 

The room grew colder, yet your blood coursed with a fierce heat through your veins at the intensity of the unspoken warning. Whatever this connection was, you knew it was not meant to exist. But now... it did. 

And there was no turning back.

Taggies as requested : @mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl

Divider Credit : cafekitsune

Xoxo - L 🖤

Masterlist

[loresung]

breaking my no commentary rule real quick to say, i love that odysseus became every monster he fought except for calypso. he asked penelope if she would fall in love with him again. he waited for her response. he was willing to accept a rejection. even when she provoked him, he was accepting the rejection but not the destruction of the symbol of their past love.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In Regards To Your 2024 Summary:

Holy shit it’s been another year????? The hell?????

Also! Your art style is gorgeous and that being found in 2023 and then refined throughout late 2023 and the entirety of 2024 really shows, as does your growth in panel layouts, perspective, and — as you said — experimentation. If you ever post your animation or video game art I’m looking forward to it.

As cheesy as it sounds, being able to laugh at funny comics and look at all the details of your art really made my 2024 brighter, even when things were hard. Including looking at your older art— it doesn’t need to be new to be enjoyable! I’m glad your art is well loved and it’s a privilege to have been here since the (near) beginning. I hope you take care of yourself in 2025 and beyond!

You and your art bring a lot of people a lot of joy never forget that <3

Thank you so much for keeping up with my art journey throughout these last two years! Two years!!! I am baffled at how that feels both too long and too short!

Admittedly, my art summary didn't manage to capture the fact that I did a lot of comic layouts that I'm really proud of. I also drew more backgrounds and made some very detailed works (*Dungeon Meshi spoilers for these examples*).

The growth is lot more evident when comparing my 'best' comics of 2023 to 2024:

Sometimes the growth is vertical, sometimes it is horizontal - and damn, sometimes it goes out of sight into the Z-plane. But it is always happening!