hello vonnie
shark vs the universe
@theartofmadeline
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever
taylor price
Misplaced Lens Cap
ellievsbear
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#extradirty
KIROKAZE
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle
Color Me Curious
tannertan36
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
roma★
untitled
noise dept.
seen from United States
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@akajustjessicajones
@ofscottlang “I’m not straight, please never say that again. I’m insulted.”
Jessica arched a brow. “If I was trying to insult you, you’d know it,” she said simply. She bit her lip for a moment and hesitated, but then she sat down next to him at the bar. “Sorry,” she muttered, motioning to the bartender for her usual. “For... flying off the handle. I messed up -- my trainer would say I let my emotion cloud my judgement,” she said, shaking her head. “And she would be right.”
@kunlunsironfist “Bring it on, I have a fork and very little will to live!”
“I have superstrength and half a bottle of whiskey in my gut,” Jessica replied. “And I’ve never had a will to live, so you really wanna play this game, Iron Clad?” she asked, arching a brow. She set her glass down and leaned over the bar table. “You touch that last piece of cheesecake, and I’ll punch you so hard you’ll see little spinning dragons.”
@ghcstsoldier “She could come to my house and give me broccoli and I would be like thanks ma'am for this broccoli.”
“That’s super fascinating,” Jessica deadpanned. Her apartment was too damn quiet now without the baby and the barely-not-a-baby Morales, so she was working on her SHIELD paperwork at the Tower, even though Tony was out of town. She hadn’t really expected to run into Barnes, or to find out he was chatty, which would’ve been fine about pretty much any other goddamn topic. “You know Sharon thinks I’m about as appealing as broccoli, right? Without the added health benefits,” she added, glancing up at him. “But jesus, you’re goddamn gone for her, aren’t you?”
@handassassin “Stabbing is so intimate.”
Daisy was working late, a more and more common occurrence, and Jessica didn’t feel like babysitting her little ward. So she went back to her own apartment, quieter now that Miles wasn’t around. His desk was still set up, but empty except for a few stray pieces of paper and the nameplate he’d made himself. Jessica’s fingers brushed against it, and she sighed lightly. She pulled her hand back, and went to her own desk. She had just reached for the half-empty bottle when she felt something press into her back. Something sharp. And words spoken by a very familiar voice. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered, inhaling sharply. “Get your goddamn sword away from me before I shove it up your ass. Then we’ll be real goddamn intimate”
Sentence Me Part I || The Aftermath GC Meme
@awclintbartonno @blueroboticbitch @mynameiscaroldanvers @supersoldierwithashield @wildheartsarah @leangreenbeastmachine
kunlunsironfist:
(✉️ ➡️ Jessica J.): I said I was kidding! I thought you liked jokes. (✉️ ➡️ Jessica J.): Okay, that’s fair. (✉️ ➡️ Jessica J.): Thanks, Jess. It really means a lot to know you think that. (✉️ ➡️ Jessica J.): And you’re right. I think I can probably do better than people like the ones who raised you us. (✉️ ➡️ Jessica J.): Starting with not teaching kung fu to babies.
(✉ → iron clad): i like /funny/ jokes (✉ → iron clad): it’s very fair (✉ → iron clad): i’ll deny it in person, for the record. (✉ → iron clad): yeah, u can. but lets not put the dragon in front of the fist just yet (✉ → iron clad): that’s usually the first bit of advice in every baby book out there
dogcfwar:
(✉ → Jones): The most delicate flower I know, truly. (✉ → Jones): Let’s take it back a step. Don’t really want to see what happens when we go across it. (✉ → Jones): But /dragons/, Jones. Dragons? (✉ → Jones): Had it a few times. Doesn’t get any easier. (✉ → Jones): Not that weird. Plenty of people have it. (✉ → Jones): Fair enough. (✉ → Jones): You’d be surprised. Got some cash from the gangs I bust up. Took what I needed to live, burned the rest. Money’s never really mattered. (✉ → Jones): Technically /was/ one, for a bit. CIA mandated, but same thing.
(✉ → bullets and baby): ugh god, even as a joke that’s nauseating (✉ → bullets and baby): yeah, fair. good to know where the line is though. (✉ → bullets and baby): dragons. im with you, it’s ten kinds of bullshit. it’s /real/ bullshit that happens to be real (✉ → bullets and baby): no surprise there. (✉ → bullets and baby): i dont think they act on it the way u do (✉ → bullets and baby): sappy (✉ → bullets and baby): u /burned/ cash?? seriously?? u couldve donated it or some shit. (✉ → bullets and baby): thats a little different, dont u think?
ironiccrus:
(✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): it was never the shrapnel that did this to my cardiac output. it was that damn sentiment, hacking its way through. i don’t know what they taught in kindergarten, i skipped (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): i try to, most of the time (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): if you’re soft about it, i could try talking to her, but it might backfire (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): i’m only just realizing. i’ve never really compared you and barnes in my head (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): you + dresses makes me a little nauseous, which is against my usual reaction (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): still feel like i’m being selfish /asking/ for anything (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): you (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): you can get suits for under $40????
(✉ → barnacle brain): we shouldve known. its probably not cancer in ur head either, just some sentiment that got stuck. ofc u did, what grades /didnt/ u skip? (✉ → barnacle brain): yeah, i know u do. appreciate that. (✉ → barnacle brain): do /not/ do that. she’ll start locking the landing pad doors on me. besides, im not soft about goddamn anything. (✉ → barnacle brain): seriously? bc ive been doing it for years (✉ → barnacle brain): baby dresses, they barely count. none of them were yellow or purple thank god. (✉ → barnacle brain): yeah, you are. love is a seflish goddamn thing, ok? thats just how it is. (✉ → barnacle brain): jesus (✉ → barnacle brain): i didnt think id BSOD u with /that/ (✉ → barnacle brain): how do u think teenagers go to the prom, numbskull?
vengeancedemon:
(✉️ ➡️ dos por cuatro): not a kid. and that’s how it works for me.
(✉ → flaming asshole): could’ve fooled me. (✉ → flaming asshole): so ur just, above the rules?
daisycjohnson:
(✉️ ➡️ ❤ my fiancee😍): You know, everyone thought the same thing when Coulson took me in. Things turned out just fine there. (✉️ ➡️ ❤ my fiancee😍): Not if I take it over. It’ll be a blast.
(✉ → my fiance flower♥): not everyone is like you though. and they didnt find you in the middle of an enemy base. (✉ → my fiance flower♥): ok, /that/ i want to see
dogcfwar:
(✉ → Jones): Because you’re so goddamn sensitive with me, I forgot. (✉ → Jones): We’re skirting a real fine line here, Jones. (✉ → Jones): I’m slightly convinced he’s lost his goddamn mind about the dragon, but there were aliens in New York seven years back, so. (✉ → Jones): Guess every team has growing pains. Least you didn’t get popped. Wouldn’t really want to explain that to your fiancee and my boss, gotta admit. (✉ → Jones): God, what gave you that impression? I’m not talking about what turns me on with anyone but my wife Karen. (✉ → Jones): You’d probably call me sappy again, so no. (✉ → Jones): Don’t know how you did it. Know I did something else, but I feel like shooting is easier than listening to people bullshit each other. (✉ → Jones): Oh Christ. You have experience with those too?
(✉ → bullets and baby): thats me. super sensitive (✉ → bullets and baby): we’re not over it yet, just toeing it (✉ → bullets and baby): seriously, just dont ever question anything that happens in this goddamn city. it’ll save u some time. (✉ → bullets and baby): yeah that is a conversation that would not have been pleasant (✉ → bullets and baby): im used to picking up on weird kinks, what can i say? the pi business ruined me (✉ → bullets and baby): im still gonna call you sappy again (✉ → bullets and baby): only thing i was good at, and gotta pay for booze somehow. guessing what u did doesnt really cover expenses (✉ → bullets and baby): yeah. one. not eager to repeat it. you?
vengeancedemon:
(✉️ ➡️ dos por cuatro): wouldn’t murder people on the street if people didn’t suck
(✉ → flaming asshole): i dont think thats how it works, kid
vengeancedemon:
She was funny in a dry kind of way that Robbie could appreciate, and it was enough to set his mind at ease. He wasn’t exactly comfortable in this universe, but he figured no one expected him to be. “I’m great at bingo,” he replied with a grin. “I win every time.” He’d never actually played bingo, but it couldn’t be hard, right?
Of course, it was hard to keep up the dry humor and easy quips when they both knew what he’d come here to do. When she replied, it was enough to make Robbie wonder just how different this version of him was. Did he go by Ghost Rider when the other guy took over, too? Maybe not, since she seemed surprised at the name. “In my universe, yeah. There’s a few of them there, too, but… Mine’s different.” Johnny Blaze had made it clear that the spirit in Robbie’s head wasn’t a proper Ghost Rider, and Robbie knew it wasn’t just because Johnny was a dick.
The more she spoke, though, the more Robbie began to realize that this universe’s version of himself was… also kind of a dick. She made it seem like this world’s Robbie enjoyed killing people, and it was enough to make Robbie a little queasy. His uncle had liked killing people, too. Was there a chance Robbie ended up like Eli once he’d had him in his head for a few years? “I’ve been talking to him,” he admitted quietly. “He’s not great at listening. He doesn’t care what universe we’re in or whether or not we get back, he just… wants to do what he does.” And he understood that that was shitty. Robbie knew he shouldn’t let Eli loose in a universe that wasn’t theirs, but he didn’t always get a say. And he’d much rather Eli kill someone bad than risk him forcing his way out on his own and killing someone decent.
Glancing back to his companion, he furrowed his brow uncertainly. “I don’t think he cares about souls,” he replied, sounding a little confused. The more he learned, the more he realized that this world’s Robbie Reyes might have a very different Ghost Rider in his head. “My… passenger isn’t a demon. The other Ghost Riders in my universe, they have spirits of vengeance in their heads, but mine… He was a guy. Eli Morrow.”
“No one wins every time, numbskull,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s luck, and you’re a kid with a demonic presence in your head. You’re not lucky.” Ghost Rider. It was the most goddamn ridiculous name she’d ever goddamn heard, but he said it completely straight-faced. God, when she saw this universe’s Reyes, she was going to give him ten kinds of shit about it. Mostly because it’d be funny to watch.
Jessica sighed at his reply. “Thought you said yours was different? So far I’m getting the same obstinate bullshit vibe.” Actually, Reye’s demon had been more reasonable, if you considered the fact it changed its mind about Daisy. (Though not wanting to take a bite out of her might’ve meant it was insane.)
She bit her lip, and studied him carefully. This Reyes couldn’t lie for shit, so she knew he wasn’t trying to pull one over on her. But when he explained, when he said the name, Jessica blinked at him. “The uncle?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “Jesus -- that’s.... That’s messed up, kid.”
She felt for him, she really goddamn did. Her demon wasn’t a literal voice in her head, she could escape it sometimes. He didn’t have that option. And that limited her options. “I can’t just let you go after people,” she said, shaking her head. “Maybe we should take you somewhere neither of you can hurt anyone.”
ironiccrus:
(✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): too late, i’ve already thought it on multiple occasions, so it’s now law. the fuzzies are in my chest now, jones, so explain that. caring and sharing is part of friendship (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): just a little maybe (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): if it makes you feel any better, she’s taken a dislike to barnes too. i think she just flips a coin, because you two … (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): oh my god. FRIDAY has a type to hate (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): i’m not going to say anything about my potential uses of these privileges, because i like my teeth (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): jessica jones and khakis does not compute. if i photoshopped you into them, would the world implode? (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): oh. that makes more sense. pretty sure i have more experience getting dicks than hearts though, but thanks (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): emfnao;sf (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): DON’T DO THAT (✉ → The Rock Not Johnson): you /know/ i get precious about italian designers. i can’t hear that question in my hOME
(✉ → barnacle brain): ur gross. probably all those fuzzies in your chest. yeah, i dont think this what they meant back in kindergarten (✉ → barnacle brain): exactly, u understand (✉ → barnacle brain): yeah, FRIDAY has a type to hate (✉ → barnacle brain): r u just now realizing this (✉ → barnacle brain): good call (✉ → barnacle brain): likely. i haven owned a pair of khakis... ever. ever, in my entire life. when i was a toddler, it was dresses, then jeans (✉ → barnacle brain): pretty sure u wont need to buy either (✉ → barnacle brain): so it’d be bad if i came to the workshop (✉ → barnacle brain): and googled (✉ → barnacle brain): ‘what is the point of a suit more than $40?’
kunlunsironfist:
In moments like this, Danny couldn’t help but remember Ward’s words, biting and angry, when they’d discovered Harold’s penthouse empty and covered in blood. Danny knew now, of course, that things hadn’t been as they appeared in the moment. He’d thought the Hand got to Harold, thought his presence in the Meachums’ lives had gotten Ward’s father killed, but it hadn’t been true. Ward had been the one to coat that penthouse floor in blood, and the words he’d snapped at Danny upon his discovery had been meant to keep him from figuring that out, but they still rung through his head at times like this, still echoed through his mind at the thought of Colleen laying in a hospital bed with a new scar on her body that had been put there because of him.
You’re a cancer, Danny, Ward had told him, and it was true. Danny knew it was true. He ate away at everyone who got close, killed them slowly through his presence alone. Jessica had already suffered it to a certain extent, had been a part of the shitshow at Midland Circle that never would have happened if Danny had been a better Iron Fist, a better weapon, if he’d never left K’un Lun at all. Her life, like Colleen’s, was worse with him in it. And, like Colleen, she was here anyways. She was standing at the door of his hospital room, she was looking at him with an expression that would have looked hard on anyone else but was soft on her. She was offering reassurance he wasn’t sure he deserved, and Danny loved her. He didn’t know how to say it, but he knew it was true. He loved Jessica just like he loved Luke and Sharon and Tony and Ward and Karen. And maybe it was selfish, feeling that way when he knew what Ward said about him was the truth, but he didn’t know how not to. “Do you think she’d be better off without me?” The question was quiet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Jessica, he knew, would tell the truth. She always did.
She proved as much just a moment later by agreeing with him, by saying that he was right, that the people they loved were often the ones who hurt them the most. But… She was right, too. You got to choose whether or not to keep someone in your life, and Colleen chose him. For whatever reason, regardless of what might have been best for her, she chose him. Danny couldn’t take that choice away from her. “Thanks,” he said quietly, and he hoped she’d ignore the thickness of his voice because they both knew he couldn’t blame it on the drugs when he was refusing to take them.
The world felt a little lighter when she spoke again, because he knew she was right. If he’d killed Davos, if he’d killed his brother, there wouldn’t have been any coming back from it. He’d struggled enough to cope with killing a stranger who’d tormented him for months — killing the only person he’d been able to depend on for years of his life? Danny wouldn’t have been able to cope with that any more than he would have been able to live with himself if he’d let Davos kill Colleen, any more than Colleen would have been able to forgive him if he’d gotten himself killed to take Davos down. He’d made the choice he could live with. He didn’t know if it was the right choice, didn’t know if he’d ever be sure of that, but it worked. He was here, he was alive, Colleen was alive. That had to count for something. “I guess I’m glad, too,” he admitted quietly. “And — And I’m really glad you came.”
Toxic.
That’s what morphine was. It was meant to relieve pain, but too much would kill you. Wasn’t that the definition of a poison? No wonder Danny wouldn’t take it. Not when he already felt poisonous enough. The pain he caused spread through the people he cared about like an infection, and every time someone else got hurt, it reminded him. It reminded him that he shouldn’t have people. Not many, and not for very long. He was toxic.
She was toxic too. And sometimes, toxins cancelled each other out, and sometimes they made things worse. She wondered what Matt would say, about their mixture. She wondered what Colleen thought about her poison stirring into Danny’s. There was no getting around it, no really denying it. The trick was, to make it worth it.
“Probably,” she answered. “But she wouldn’t be as happy. And that matters.”
Even if you didn’t feel worth it.
“No problem,” she murmured, pointedly ignoring the emotion in his voice. He wouldn’t have been able to, if the roles were switched, that was just a part of him. Sometimes she needed a person like that. And sometimes he needed a person like her. Maybe they were both toxic -- but there was a balance here that was worth it.
She squeezed his shoulder gently. The world wasn’t, as it would’ve been so easy to believe, black and white. There was a spectrum, a grey area, a ghostly limbo where sometimes you found yourself. They said everyone was born a hero. But sometimes, life pushed you over the line, until you were the villain. But sometimes, you could stop yourself, before that line was behind you. Sometimes, the line moved, kept moving. The more it moved, the more you knew the world wasn’t as simple and stable as you’d been told. But the more it moved, the more you found your feet. Until life couldn’t push you any farther, and instead you stood your ground. Because you knew what you were, and how far you’d come, and you refused to step back again. Danny was there. He just didn’t know it yet.
guardiansgamora:
Gamora never thought she’d ever talk about what had happened. Nebula had lived it with her – though Nebula’s experience with Thanos was far different than her own. They had both been tortured and abused, but Gamora… she had always been Thanos’s favorite, and Gamora wasn’t sure if that started when he first picked her out of the crowd or if he saw her strength – or if he just looked at Nebula and decided all she was, was spare parts. But he never let Nebula forget how little she meant to him (killing her was a waste of parts). Nebula would understand the wrath of their father, but she and this woman had found common ground in their horrors. And Gamora had never expected to have a moment like this. Sitting with a stranger with an air of understanding between them. “Not sure if answers will even help,” Gamora admitted before downing the rest of her drink. Pulling the cup away from her lips, Gamora looked at the liquid for a long moment – she wasn’t even feeling a buzz. “Stopping him would help.” If that were a real option.
How could she explain how she didn’t have words for the things that she was feeling? She didn’t know what she was feeling was fear until Mantis’s hand as wrapped around her wrist and she was told that she was afraid. Just like Gamora didn’t understand that feeling in the pit of her stomach was guilt – survivors guilt – until Jessica put words to that too.
Looking at Jessica, Gamora’s mouth fell open, like suddenly everything made sense. This feeling… that must have been what Nebula felt. Why Nebula jumped to a new universe to find her. Maybe that was why Gamora couldn’t understand why Nebula had gone so far to find her after everything between them was in different stages of broken. Nebula felt guilty because she had survived where the Gamora in her universe had died. “If you go looking for answers, or he comes back, I’ll help you. If you want. I know my monster is coming eventually… but if I can help you with yours, I will.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said, and she almost laughed. “Yeah -- stopping him, it.... It helps.” It was an undeniable fact. For all the nightmares she had of the docks, for all the times his voice whispered through her ears, or his face showed up in her reflection, whispering murderer -- for all of that, stopping him still helped. At least for a time, she had been certain he was dead. She had been positive there was no one out there suffering at his hands. Because of her. It didn’t erase the guilt, didn’t make the shame go away. It just made her feel strong enough to carry it.
She watched Gamora’s mouth fall open, as the feeling rocked her, and Jessica knew what that was like. To feel the world shift into place beneath your feet, because finally you spoke and someone heard you. Someone understood, without having to explain. Someone gave you the words and the sentiment you didn’t even realize you’d been searching for. It knocked the wind out of you, that feeling. Left you lightheaded because suddenly, there was enough air to breathe and you had been so used to suffocating without anyone noticing.
She gave Gamora a minute.
It didn’t surprise her, the offer. Feeling this way, it made you stupidly grateful, left you desperate to return the favor. She had felt it with Tony, right before she laid him out on his worktable. She felt it with Daisy before pulling her into that hotel room, and every night since then. It was staggering. “Now you’ve made me look like an asshole if I don’t agree to the same,” she quipped. She filled their glasses once more with the last of the whiskey. “Here’s to slaying monsters together, I guess.”
ironiccrus:
If anyone else asked him to do this, Tony would’ve said no. He wasn’t good at that – saying no when it counted, saying no when he really meant it. How many board meetings had he sat in on, biting his tongue even as he watched the images flicker across the screen, eyes boring a hole through Obie’s head? How many times afterwards had he pulled the man to the side and said something felt wrong, only to be told that he was weak, he was sensitive, that his father would be disappointed to hear you talk this way, Anthony, after all he did for you … But Jessica wasn’t doing this to gain anything. She was doing this for him, opening herself up to the worst possible memories because she wanted to reach for him across the darkness.
Trish was his friend. He’d known her for twenty years, maybe more than that. Jessica was indefinable. She was a friend. She was family. She was someone he loved. And to have this secret sitting between them … it wasn’t something that even Tony Stark could imagine. “She…” Tony fell silent, listening to Jessica as she explained. She said it so matter of fact, so detached, that Tony knew this was weighing on her. Jessica was a lot of things, but she was never emotionless. When she moved to sit beside him, Tony finally let out a long, shuddered breath, lost for words for one of the few times in his life.
“I don’t blame you,” he said, finally. There was nothing he could say to make this better, no outline for how to help Jessica through this (there was no through), so he went with what he felt in his heart, what he knew was right. “Being a parent … it has to be a the hardest thing you can do, right? I mean, you make this person, and you’re their first introduction to people, to the world. I know how much I screw up just by being myself, so mistakes when you have this person, they have to mean more, they have to carry that weight.” He would question where he was going with this, but then he looked at Jessica, and he knew.
He knew.
“Dad hit me,” he said, and he felt tears burning in his eyes, felt his hands shake. He wasn’t good at detachment. “He did that, but he also founded SHIELD. He gave his life trying to protect people. He … he left a message for me, a message that saved my life. So your mom, she fucked up, but I get it. I don’t blame you for protecting her.” Trish wouldn’t either, but Tony couldn’t speak on her behalf. He wouldn’t get in the middle of sisters, wouldn’t try to fight against that connection. But he wanted Jessica to know he understood. He understood that burning desire to protect, to defend the person who brought you into the world.
His thoughts were disjointed, jumping from place to place, but Jessica, as per usual, was straight to the point. Every sentence led to the next, every word kept Tony in the here and now, beside her, listening to her. This night … it felt like down in that tunnel. It felt like the moment Jessica told him about the baby, or he uttered Yinsen’s name for the first time. It felt important, and he had so little of those moments left. He needed to make the best of them, needed to stop holding back.
“I know,” he said finally, wiping harshly at his face with the palm of his hand, not caring if he smeared motor oil over his cheek so long as the salt was gone. “It was him, but it wasn’t. I know that. I … I knew it then, too. But it’s still just-” He coughed, suddenly choking on the thick lump in his throat. “Sometimes it’s impossible to look at him. We’re on the same team. I know he was forced to do it. But his hand … it was around Mom’s throat, Jones. And I can’t forget that.” Sometimes, Tony wished he could. He really wished he could pretend none of his memories remained for years at a time, that even alcohol couldn’t block them out. But he couldn’t. Pretending was avoiding what was real. Jessica taught him to stop doing that.
Things have a way of coming back from the dead. Tony had to huff a laugh at that, he had to. “Make sure I don’t,” he said, jaw clenching, staring at his trembling hands. “I … I wasted so much time.” Time with Pepper and Rhodes, when he was drinking himself into a stupor. Time with Jones, when he was in space, running from his past. Time with Steve, because he didn’t pick up the damn phone. Because at the end of the day, Tony didn’t deserve any of them, not really. But there was another truth, undeniable. “He fucked up,” Tony said, because that was undeniable (almost reassuring, too, to know that Steve was a man, to see him more clearly than ever before). “But I went there to help him. The only thing I ever wanted to do was-” Tony turned, then, to meet Jessica’s gaze. “It comes to him, I’ve always been way off shore. Middle of the Indian Ocean, in fact. And that was fine, before.” Tony was well accustomed to loving and not being loved in return, well used to his heart acting on its own accord. “Before, the only one getting hurt by this thing was me and now … You know how much I hurt people, Jones.”
She wasn’t looking for comfort. Or advice, or sage words of wisdom that he was sometimes capable of. She didn’t really know what she was hoping for from him. Maybe nothing at all. He had given too much already, to her, to everyone else. Maybe she just didn’t want there to be any secrets left between them, maybe she had just gotten used to knowing there was someone who would listen to every single screwed up thing in her head.
She hadn’t expected him to understand so easily. Which was stupid. She should’ve known better by now.
“Don’t hold it against her,” Jessica whispered. “Trish was -- it was a goddamn complicated situation, and I hate her for it, but I don’t... And you don’t have the time to work through that,” she said simply, bluntly. The truth was always blunt with her, and she couldn’t stop now. That would mean treating him like he was made of glass, and he wasn’t. Even if he shattered so easily. “You would’ve liked her,” she added after a moment. “My mom. Screwed up as she was, you would’ve --” She sighed lightly, shaking her head. “This is why I never became a mom.” Because it was too complicated, too dangerous, too much. Too heavy a responsibility, even superstrength wouldn’t touch it.
Her eyes snapped up. It wasn’t a revelation -- she had known the kind of man Howard Stark was from the second she laid eyes on his portrait, from the minute Tony started talking about him. He hinted at it, in BARF, in flashes of memory and cruel sharp gazes from the man. But Tony had never said it before, and sure as hell not like this. Matter-of-fact, but choked up with pain. With tears in his eyes, and shame heavy on his shoulders.
He was saying the same sort of thing Trish had tried to -- you couldn’t see it, because she’s your mom. But Tony knew better. He knew that she did see it, and saw more than that. Just like she looked at him and saw more than Iron Man, more than the Merchant of Death. She looked at Trish and saw more than her mother’s murderer. She looked at Daisy and saw beyond her mistakes, and when she looked at her own reflection -- sometimes she could see past her sins too.
Jessica reached out. Wrapped his hand in hers, squeezing gently. She didn’t say anything about his confession. She couldn’t. She wasn’t a priest, she couldn’t forgive him for his confessions. All she could do was reach out, hold his hand, and let him know he wasn’t alone. Neither of them were.
But Tony kept talking, even as choked up as he was, even with that thick lump she could feel in her own throat too. Dum-E rolled over with a glass of water, and Jessica took it, setting it beside him. His choice to take it or not. His choice to forgive Barnes or not wasn’t as simple. “You shouldn’t,” she said quietly. “Forgetting it is like it never happened, and it did. I still go to Reva’s grave every year, and I’ve got my mom in a box in my closet. You don’t have to forget it,” she insisted, her other hand moving in slow circles against his back. “But you can remember them, and move forward too. You know that, you’ve always known that.” After all, it wasn’t until he was free of them that he really got to stretch his wings and fly towards the sun.
“Oh trust me,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve had enough resurrections for one lifetime.” She would probably regret saying those words, the universe would make her eat them. But Tony... Tony deserved to rest. He deserved to be done for a while, and he’d never stop until the world made him. “You didn’t. You were just... getting ready,” she said softly. He wasn’t ready to say I love you, when she demanded it of him. He wasn’t ready to be the man he was today. It took time and heartbreak and pain and success, and it was cruel that he finally got there only to have it ripped away from him. Tragic, like so many of those greek stories he loved.
“You wanted to help him,” Jessica finished for him. Because maybe he wasn’t ready to say that yet, but he was out of time. “All you’ve ever wanted to do was help people.” His eyes were locked on hers, like he might drown if she looked away, so she didn’t. She squeezed his hand tighter. “Everyone hurts everyone,” she said firmly. “We both know that. But why and how you hurt them -- that matters. You’re not like your dad, you don’t hit people because you’re angry and frustrated. You’ve made mistakes, Tony, but loving people.... loving me, loving him, that’s not one of them. I don’t regret it, got me? And I don’t think Steve will either.” She paused for a minute, breathing heavily, feeling her own tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “It’s different, getting hurt because you let yourself love someone. It hurts like hell, it burns you up, but -- it’s worth it.” Her eyes were still locked on his. “You’re worth it, Tony.”