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skalfy · 7 months ago

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Misunderstandings

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.1k words, part 1/2 - Part 2 here

angst in this part, but planning for a happy ending.

Hi! for people waiting for part 3 of the Misa story I promise I am working on it, just been busy and got caught with some other ideas, including this one. Hope y'all enjoy this in the meantime!

Also please feel free to send me requests, I am not very quick, but would love to take on some ideas. I don't really have a complete list of players I will/won't write for, but if you send me one for someone I won't, I'll reply and let you know so you can send it elsewhere :)

You had no idea how you had gotten off on the complete wrong foot with Alexia Putellas.

It had only been a month since you joined Barcelona on a three year deal, fulfilling a lifelong dream while launching you far out of your comfort zone. You were shy, and coming from Tigres, and before that, college football in America, you hardly even had a former opponent to befriend. All of your new teammates were strangers, and in some cases, even strangers you’d looked up to for years. All of your teammates except one, that was.

In a strange twist of fate, you had met Ingrid Engen almost a decade prior, when the two of you were both 17. You had an aunt--not a real one, but one of your father’s old friends from college-- who had moved to Norway a few years before you were born. Your family had gone to visit Aunt Anna every couple summers, spending a week or two seeing the fjords and the beautiful traveling the countryside. The summer you were 17, Aunt Anna had invited you to stay for a whole month. It was meant to be a sort of final hurrah before you started college in the fall, and your parents agreed without much debate.

Your second night at Aunt Anna’s house in Melhus, you had headed to the football pitch down the street with the intent to complete your assigned summer workout, and instead you had met Ingrid. That evening on the pitch was the start of a whirlwind month-long friendship as the two of you bonded over your love of the sport, then grew to find you had much more in common beyond that. One night as you sat on your bed in Anna’s house, Ingrid had told you that she was gay, opening up about the feelings she had for one of her U-19 national teammates. She held you in a tight hug as, for the first time, you said out loud that you thought you might be gay too.

You had said a tearful goodbye at the end of the month, but stayed in touch with Ingrid somewhat throughout the years, exchanging infrequent texts congratulating each other on football achievements or to check in on life. You had been pleased to hear that things worked out with her national team crush, Marie, though sorry to hear it ended a few years later. She had cheered you on in turn when you had your first serious relationship with a girl at college. When you first arrived at Barça, the two of you hadn’t seen each other since that month in Melhus, even with your respective places on your senior national teams, but you still considered her a trusted friend.

During the your first month with the Blaugrana, you had gravitated immediately toward Ingrid. You were delighted to fall back into the easy friendship you had shared so many years ago, and it helped that you were nervous to attempt to befriend your other teammates. You worried that you were monopolizing Ingrid’s time, but she easily assuaged your concerns, telling you that she was happy to spend the time together and that she would be there to support you as you took opening up to the team at your own pace. She offered you an open invite to have dinner with her and Mapi whenever you were ready to branch out.

Though you mostly kept to yourself and Ingrid, the rest of the team seemed friendly and open for the most part. Pina and Patri didn’t seem to mind your shyness and often chattered happily to you, managing to include you as a third member of their two person conversations in the changing room. Your spanish wasn’t perfect, but three years playing in Mexico had brought you up to a passable level.

Keira and Lucy, often accompanied by Ona, would also frequently bring you into conversations. You got the sense that it was as much for Keira’s sake as yours, she seemed more than pleased to have another native english speaker to chat to. You appreciated their dynamics, full of biting wit and teasing that reminded you of time with your national teammates.

The one person who seemed to hold nothing but animosity towards you was the one who you had been most excited to play with. You racked your brain, but couldn’t place any reason why you so often seemed to be at the receiving end of Alexia’s ire, but it was unmistakeable. At best, she ignored you-- the few mornings you had arrived early enough for the two of you to be the only ones in the changing room, she remained stubbornly silent, hardly acknowledging you at all besides a flat look as you entered. At worst, she singled you out in training, barking critique after critique. You had a relatively thick skin, but the captain’s intense disapproval wore on you as it never seemed to relent.

The obvious explanations that you could think of for her behavior were out. You were a forward, used to playing out and out striker or tucked under as a false 9, but you hadn’t played midfield since a few times in a pinch in college, so even setting aside her unmatched abilities, she couldn’t possibly think you were threatening her place. You had hardly ever played against her, coming off the bench late in a game once against Spain, and playing most of a friendly with Tigres. You had certainly never put in a risky tackle against her, you didn’t think you had even made any impact on her. Certainly nothing she might hold a grudge for-- you hadn’t, say, nabbed a winning goal.

As far as you could tell, it seemed like it was something you had done since joining Barça, because she hadn’t seemed so frosty on your first meeting. The captain had been quiet but polite as she welcomed you to the team, even returning the shy smile you had given her when you were introduced, but by the end of the first week it became clear that you had drawn her ire.

You had asked Ingrid for her opinion, and, while she agreed that Alexia did seem to be especially critical of you, she couldn’t come up with an explanation. After thinking through it, she optimistically suggested that it could be a misguided attempt to help you adjust to the Barcelona playstyle. At the skeptical wince you gave her in response, she offered to ask Mapi to weigh in. You thanked her, but declined. Alexia’s best friend’s opinion would likely be your best chance to understand, but you were wary of putting either Ingrid or her girlfriend in an awkward position.

A few days after that conversation with Ingrid, a particularly bad day of practice with Alexia all over your every move had you feeling desperate. You had stuck it out to the end of the session, but raced away as soon as you could, eyes hot with unshed tears and face red with embarrassment and exertion. You passed through the changing room only long enough to kick off your boots and grab your keys and phone. Jana was inside and changed already, on a slightly shortened training plan as she returned from injury, and she called out in concern as she saw you dart for the exit.

“¿Estás bien, Y/N? ¿Qué pasó?” You shook your head as the younger player stepped toward you, not sure whether you were answering no to the first question or trying to deny anything was wrong. Either way, Jana took matters into her own hands, grabbing you gently by the elbow and guiding you to face her. “Let me drive you home, vale?” you choked back a sob and let the defender walk you towards her car.

You told Jana which apartment building you were in and she didn’t bother to plug it into the GPS, navigating the short drive easily. She had turned on some music and you were grateful that she let it play quietly without asking you any more questions. When you reached your building, she turned the car off and climbed out, circling around to meet you at the passenger side door, clearly intent on seeing you all the way in. You let her walk you through your apartment door, sinking onto one of your kitchen chairs once you were in. The defender stood at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little uncertain.

“¿Quieres que llame a alguien? Call someone?” she asked.

“Voy a llamar a Jenni. Gracias por todo. Puedes quedarte si quieres.” you replied, managing a genuine smile at the young defender. She smiled back, pulling out the chair nearest you to sit.

Jenni had been one of your closest friends at Tigres, and she was eagerly checking in on your move to Barcelona every day, but you had held back about the challenges you were having with Alexia. You were afraid to gossip about the captain, especially with Jenni, and you weren’t entirely sure what kind of reaction to expect. But after the day you had, you craved Jenni’s support and guidance too much to keep holding back.

The phone only rang twice before Jenni picked up, greeting you with a cheery “¡hola, cariño!” you tried to answer her in return, but you were caught off guard by the wave of tears that surged back at the sound of her voice. All you managed was an urgent sniffle as you fought to hold the tears at bay.

“¿Cari? ¿Qué pasa?” Jenni’s voice, now concerned, crackled through your phone’s speakers again. After a moment, you felt Jana’s hand slide onto your knee comfortingly. You turned to her and saw that she had reached her other hand out, palm up. You handed the phone to her and watched as she immediately brought it to her ear.

“Hola, Jenni. Es Jana.” she greeted her former teammate before launching into a stream of spanish too quick for you to try to follow. You zoned out to the sound of Jana’s voice, focusing on deep breaths to unclench the tight knot of tears high in your throat.

You had managed to relax yourself considerably by the time Jana brought your attention back with a light squeeze to your knee where her hand still rested. You looked up to see her holding the phone between the two of you, an expectant look on her face.

“Jenni asked if you are ready to tell what’s wrong.” You nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alexia hates me. I don’t know what I did, but she hates me and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How do you know, what is she doing? Cari, Alexia is shy and competetivo. Maybe she doesn’t know she is hurting you.”

“No, Jen.” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “She knows. If it’s just the two us she will ignore me, she can’t even look at me. When we are with the team she tells me everything I do is wrong, my touch, my passes, my shots. I know I am not as good as everyone else here, but I’m trying and none of it is enough for her. I can see how she is patient and kind with the young ones, so I know it is about me.”

“Es verdad, I haven’t been in the practices, but the others have been worried about it. I didn’t know it was so bad, but Ale has been muy dura.” Jana chimed in, and you were a little surprised to hear her mention the team was concerned.

“I thought I wanted to play here, but I can’t do this for three years. I just want to be back at Tigres.” you admitted.

“Lo siento, Y/n. Lo siento mucho. I wish I was there to hug you.” you could tell she meant it by the waver in her voice, and it made you miss her even more fiercely.

You talked through everything you could think of, all your interactions with Alexia, every idea you had eliminated for what went wrong. Jenni and Jana alternated between outrage and murmured words of comfort, but mostly just listened as you vented everything you had been holding in for weeks. By the end, you actually felt better. Whether it was the release of finally letting everything go, or the relief of hearing two people who knew Alexia agree that something wasn’t right, a weight was definitely lifted from your chest.

“So what should I do?” You finally asked Jenni. “How can I fix whatever this is?”

“Oh, nena, you shouldn’t fix this, it’s Alexia who needs to. Quandó ella escuche lo que tengo--”

“Jenni, no porfa! You can’t talk to her about this.” You loved Jenni, hot head and all, but you couldn’t let her go off on Alexia about this. “Thank you, I know you would do that for me, but I need to do this. I don’t want her to think-- I can’t ruin—”

“Vale, I understand, cari. I won’t say anything, prometo.” Jenni saved you from struggling to explain further. In the pause that followed, Jana spoke suddenly from next to you.

“I think you need to talk to Ale. O sea, if you want to understand what is in her head. Maybe Mapi knows, but,” she stopped with a shrug, and Jenni finished for her,

“Only Ale knows what Ale is thinking. Jana is right.” You nodded, even though Jenni couldn’t see you. She sighed over the phone, then continued. “It might be easier if you are gentle. Even if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Gracias, Jenni.” You were suddenly very tired. “Te amo mucho. I wish I was back with you.”

“Yo también, nena. Te amo mucho. I am here if you need me.”

“I know. Good night.”

“Good night.” You hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

Jana stood from the chair next to you and held a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you gently to your feet, then wrapped you in a hug. You immediately softened into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She held you close for a long moment, then released you into a light hold.

“I know you have Ingrid, but I’m here for you too, Y/n. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’m glad you are at Barça and I want to be your friend.” The earnest look in her eyes as she spoke nearly had your own tearing up again. You tugged her back into a hug, squeezing her fiercely before you let go.

“Gracias, Jana. I want to be your friend too. Thank you.” You could feel a smile break across your face, and she grinned in return. “I should let you go home before it is too late. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yes, gracias. It is a short drive, we are almost neighbors. You can visit me soon and I will show you!”

You walked Jana back down to her car, exchanging numbers before you said your goodbyes. Despite everything, you felt a glow of hope for your future at Barcelona. At least you had a new friend and some kind of plan.

You were halfway through your pre-practice routine the following morning when your phone chimed with a message. It was Jana.

Jana: ¡Hola! Do you need a ride this morning?

Jana: Because I made you leave your car

Jana: Not sorry for that 😋🚙

You had completely forgotten about your car, so you were grateful for both the reminder and the offer.

You: Yes, thank you! I can walk to you if that is easier.

Jana: Do not worry, I will pick you up. 20 minutes?

You: Perfect

True to her word, Jana picked you up outside 20 minutes later. The drive was much more lighthearted than the previous night. You asked about Jana’s english, curious about why it was so good when she had spent her whole career in Spain. She started to explain that it was part of the curriculum at La Masia, but then cracked a smile and confessed that it was mostly because she was dating Jill and it was much easier than learning Dutch.

You had been curious about the rumors around the two, and seeing the way Jana lit up made you glad to hear they were true. You said as much to the defender, which led to her telling the story of how they met during the rest of the drive. The sweet story left you both in a good mood as you pulled up to the training center.

You climbed out of the car and grabbed your bag, laughing with Jana as she came up next to you and bumped into your shoulder as you started to walk together. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dread at the thought of walking into training, and you weren’t desperately searching for any sight of Ingrid. Jana seemed to be noticing the same thing.

“You will have to let me take you home more often if it puts you in this good of a mood!” She said, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.

You were about to respond when another voice beat you to it.

“Jana. Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see Alexia approaching. Jana squeezed your shoulder where her hand rested. The captain had an unreadable expression on her face, eyes darting from you to Jana, then back to you.

“Hola, Capitana.” You said, lowering your gaze as her eyes met yours.

“Can I talk to you?” It was clear that the question was directed at you. When you didn’t immediately respond, she spoke again, voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Jana, vé sin nosotros. Iremos pronto.”

Jana caught your eye and you nodded slightly. You appreciated her willingness to look out for you, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble, not to mention you wanted to speak to Alexia anyway. The defender gave you a final squeeze to your arm before walking past Alexia toward the training center.

The two of you stood in silence. For a moment, your mind raced to guess what she had stopped you to say, but you pushed the worry down. With the way your relationship was going, it hardly seemed worth predicting what her latest criticism would be. You stared over Alexia’s shoulder, waiting.

“Jana has a girlfriend.” It was maybe the last thing you expected the midfielder to say, and you were caught completely off guard.

“What? I—I know.” You sputtered out. Jana’s last comment jumped into your mind, and when Alexia didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to continue and clarify. “What Jana said… She didn’t mean what it sounded like. She gave me a ride home last night and then this morning.”

“Bueno.” Alexia finally said, quieter than before.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, voice flat.

“Ah...” she hesitated. “No.”

The blonde turned and walked away as you watched. The good mood you had only a few minutes earlier was gone, leaving behind a sort of hollow feeling. Jana had been the one to drive you, the one with her arm around your shoulders, and the one to make a silly joke about taking you home, but still, Alexia assumed the worst of you and you only. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot for thinking you could talk anything out with the captain. A surge of hopelessness washed over you as you imagined her scrutinizing every interaction you had with your teammates in addition to your skills on the pitch, and you felt sick. You walked to where you left your car last night, pulling out your phone to text Jonatan.

You: Lo siento, estoy enferma y no puedo ir a practicar.

Once at home, you buried yourself under the covers on your bed. You still felt awful from the interaction with Alexia, but you were overwhelmed by a wave of other emotions-- guilt for missing practice, anger at yourself for letting a personal issue get in the way of your career, and a deep fear that things were not going to get better.

Your phone was vibrating in the other room, but you ignored it, certain it wasn’t anyone you wanted to talk to right now. Ingrid was at the practice you just left, and it was far too early for Jenni or your family to be awake in their timezones.

As you lay bundled in your bed, the adrenaline from your high emotions faded, and you found yourself suddenly fighting heavy eyelids. Slowly, you faded into sleep.

You awoke to a loud pounding on your apartment door. Disoriented, you dragged yourself out of bed, padding out into the living room as the noise continued. You flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open, coming suddenly face to face with your insistent visitor.

“Alexia?”

The blonde shouldered her way past you without a word, marching into your living room and looking wildly around. You closed the door and locked it before turning back to see Alexia peering into your bedroom. You snapped.

“Alexia! What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for Ingrid!” She turned to snarl at you, eyes cold.

“What? Ingrid’s not here, what are you talking about?” You were genuinely confused, and Alexia barreling her way through your apartment wasn’t helping. You reached out and caught her by the elbow as she made to walk into your bedroom. “Stop, please! Can you just explain what’s going on?”

Alexia shook your hand off her arm, but stayed put.

“I’m not stupid. You show up here while Mapi is injured and try to steal her girlfriend. I see you every day at practice all over Ingrid. You don’t talk to anyone except her, you follow her around, you take her out for coffee, all while my best friend isn’t there to see. At first I thought you were just friendly, but it’s only with her.” Her chest heaved as she paused to take a breath. “Then I realized today you skipped practice and convinced Ingrid to join you and I knew.”

Your head was spinning and you were certain your jaw was nearly on the floor. You understood Alexia’s words, but struggled to comprehend what she was saying. As it finally clicked, a burst of laughter rose up in your chest. Alexia looked on, eyes narrowed, as you found yourself almost giggling.

“I’m, I’m sorry. It’s not funny!” You managed, pulling yourself together with a deep breath. “It’s just… you’ve been making me feel awful for weeks now because you think I’m trying to steal Ingrid from your friend? Did you even think to bring it up to Mapi herself?”

The blonde made no move to respond.

“I’ve been friends with Ingrid since we were 17. Mapi knows that. If we had any interest in each other we would have sorted it out long before now. You’re completely right that I’ve been following her around and sticking by her side, but you’re completely wrong about why. God, Alexia, I just came from halfway across the world to play for a team full of people I’ve looked up to for years. I miss my family and Jenni and the rest of my old teammates. A month ago, Ingrid was the only person I knew in this entire stupid country!”

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying to calm your racing heart. Your body felt like you had just played 90 minutes of a championship final. When you eventually opened your eyes again, it was to the sight of Alexia still rooted to the same spot. She had hardly moved a muscle other than to drop her gaze to the floor, back and shoulders. rigid with tension. You left her in the bedroom doorway and walked over to sink into the same kitchen chair Jana had occupied last night.

“Y/n, I—” she started, but paused at the sound of the lock, then the knob turning on the door. It swung open.

“Y/n! Sorry to use your spare key, but you weren’t answering my texts! I would have come sooner, but I had a dentist’s appointment I had to leave practice for. Are you okay? Are you sick? Jana said you seemed fine until you talked to Alexia this morning, did she say something?”

“I’m okay.” Ingrid’s gaze caught you when you spoke, then rose to look past you as she responded.

“Good, I-- Alexia?”

“Alexia was just leaving.” You spoke before the blonde could. “Are you okay to drive home, Capitana?”

“Sí. Yes.” She answered quietly, finally moving away from your bedroom and towards the door to leave. Before she stepped out, she paused to turn your way. “Lo siento, Y/n. I will fix this.”

When the door shut behind her, you dropped your head into your arms on the table.

Part 2

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months ago

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John Pavlovitz at The Beautiful Mess:

Wake up, White Liberals, Progressives, and Moderates. It's morning in America. A lot happened while we were sleeping. This is not the nation we thought existed back on January 20th of 2009: likely the last time many of us were fully awake. Back then, we basked in the warm glow of the arrival of a Black President and we grew comfortable, nestling down into a complacency that only the blind spots of privilege and false information provide. The joy of that moment, and the recent civil and human rights wins became a slow-acting emotional sedative that slowly squeezed out the urgency from us; one that gradually dulled our senses.

The visible victories numbed our minds into imagining we had arrived together at Dr. King’s glorious mountaintop. If we had taken the time to ask vulnerable, oppressed people, they'd have warned us not to fall asleep. Believing that the aspirational "we shall overcomes" that once rang out were now a fixed and unchangeable present, we settled cozily into that place where the heart rate slows and the limbs and eyelids grow heavy—and where without realizing it, slumber suddenly overtakes you: One blink awake, the next blink asleep. And for eight years we began to sleepwalk through the world, physically here and moving through daylight but not fully present, not totally seeing—caught between the actual and the unreal world, between the true nightmare and the imagined dream. Yes, we still talked and marched and campaigned and worked, but we did so slightly sedated in the haze of bad stories, willful ignorance, and wishful thinking. Meanwhile, the bigots woke up.

Shaken violently from sleep on that same January morning in 2009 by the reality of what decades of fear and terrible theology taught them was the absolute worst place they could find themselves—they began to mount a fierce counterattack. They infiltrated local politics and school boards and state election positions. They created news outlets and social media platforms designed to filter out everything except that which would fully trigger terror within the hearts of their intended targets and would-be allies: fantastical stories of a pervasive and coordinated Gay Agenda coming to convert their children; of violent, heavily armed, brown-skinned drug gangs overrunning our borders; of godless, abortion-mad progressives having indiscriminate sex without fear or care; of Muslim terrorist hordes infiltrating our neighborhoods and bodegas; of America-hating Democrats coming for their jobs and flags and prayers and guns. And we were still sleepwalking...

They leveraged thousands of Christian pulpits, where every seven days they'd wildly stoke the fires of people's phobias and fears, weaponize the Scriptures against gays and migrants and Muslims, pervert the expansive Gospel of Jesus into rabid nationalism—and sermon by sermon, enlist them all into service as passionate soldiers in the Army of the straight, white, American, male Lord.

And we were still sleepwalking... Then, to inculcate the terror fully, they propped up a sideshow carnival barker as their chosen one; a barren, empty husk of a man with no discernible moral convictions beyond wealth accumulation—who they could use as a flesh and blood avatar to embody and perpetuate themselves. They fashioned a vile, blustery orange idol to rally the fearful and the angry and the callous hearts around; one who would daily dig into the stinking muck to find a deeper bottom—and in the sleep-induced state we were in we thought it was a joke. We laughed ourselves back into a dreamworld where everything would be fine and where decency would prevail and where the system would work; so much so that one hundred million of us slept all the way through an election cycle. And here we are, a hair’s breadth from fascism.

John Pavlovitz says it best in regards to White Liberals, Progressives, and Moderates of all stripes: stay awake and don’t sleepwalk like what happened during Obama’s term.

#John Pavlovitz #White Privilege #Barack Obama #Joe Biden #Kamala Harris #Racism #Donald Trump

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ohhh-n00oo · 3 months ago

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#Every Americas gay dream

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jockwrites · 2 months ago

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LUST - p.b

warnings: angst, cursing, straight people

part: 1

a/n: if u can’t tell i love chase atlantic and i love to base writing off of music so..hehe

this will have smut.. but that’s a few chapters down hehe anyway i’m gonna post the second chapter like 10mins after this hahhahaha ok bye

today was the day. the day you’ve been dreading, but you know it’s for the best regardless.

you’re breaking up with your boyfriend.

for 3 months, you’ve been cheating on him. not only are you fucking another person, that person is a girl.

you’ve never called yourself gay, ever. you wouldn’t even consider the term bisexual.

but after you met paige bueckers, your whole world flipped upside down.

she was perfect, in every way. the way she touches you, looks at you, cares for you, every. little. thing.

she made you feel the way a man never has, or could.

but this wasn’t just hooking up to you, even if it was. to you, it felt like love.

the late night drives, long walks, beach trips, she even took you to disney world, a place you’ve been dreaming of since a child.

the first time you two hooked up was at a party. you didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.

you exchanged glances from time to time, she walked up, complimented your outfit, told you to meet her in the bathroom, & the rest is history.

it all happened way to fast. but it was like a fever dream. and you didn’t even care about the fact she was one of the biggest basketball players in America.

now the main reason you’re breaking up with your boyfriend? it’s because of paige.

she’s hated him since the beginning.

the night after the first hookup, you got her number. she shot you a text, but you told her it’s not something that can be continued because of your boyfriend.

God she hates that word.

you’d vent to her about him a lot. you’d mention his late texts, the constant back and forth between you and work. it was like he never made time for you.

but paige, oh paige. she always had time for you.

between water breaks at practice she’d text or facetime, when at events she calls, even in the locker room before games she sneaks to send you a little heart emoji or an “i’m gonna win for u. love you”

you loved it. actually, you love everything about her.

but the sad part is, your boyfriend is a good guy.

he doesn’t deserve this, and you know it. he can’t help it that he has a tight schedule. but it all feels so right.

as of right now, you’re driving to your boyfriends apartment. alongside the teary eyes and hurting heart, you can’t help but rethink for a minute.

is this what i want? is this what he would want? or is this just what paige wants?

but then again, you realized you want it. you want paige, you want every part of that woman. you love her.

as your car slowly approaches the building, you wipe your tears. you’re ready to face whatever he has to say to you. but the thing is, you have no excuse.

you don’t know what to say to him. you can’t just throw it on him that you’ve been cheating, with a woman.

you sit in the driver seat, thinking about the memories you’ve had with him. all of the good, the bad, it’s all to much for you.

but you have to keep in mind, you want this.

you regain you slowly regain composure, getting out of your car.

you walk into the building, getting on the elevator to go to his apartment.

as you approach the door, you take a few deep breaths. your thoughts are taking over, and that isn’t something you need right about now.

you knock twice, waiting for a response, or any type of noise that signifies he’s here.

as you hear the door knob unlock, you quickly put on a nervous smile.

“hi, jacob!” you exulted nervously.

“hey, what’re you doing here? i was just finishing up some work, so if you wanna come inside, you can.” he smiled, motioning for you to step in.

you walk in, hating this already.

as he closes the door, you turn around toward him.

“jacob, i need to talk to you about something.”

“what is it baby?” he said. “are you okay?”

“no, jacob. i’m not okay. that’s exactly why we need to talk..”

“okay well, sit down baby. you can talk to me about anything.” he smiled.

you sit down, tears ready to flow any second.

you hate this. you hate everything about this.

“jacob, first off, i just wanna say i love you. i love you so so much, and i hope this won’t change anything between us. i know it will, but i can only hope.” you cried.

“baby, baby.” he walked toward you, crouching down to your level to comfort you. “what’s wrong? why’re you crying baby? you can talk to me about anything.”

the problem is you can’t talk to him about anything. not after what you’ve done, or what you’re doing.

“i just want you to know it isn’t you, it’s me. it’s all my fault, and i don’t know what to do.” you whimpered

“what are you talking about?” he worried.

“i wanna end things. im so sorry.” you choked out.

“what? what do you mean? what’s happened?” you can hear the pain in his voice.

God make it stop.

“i cheated. i cheated and i don’t know how to make it up to you. im so sorry jacob, i didn’t mean for it to happen like this. one thing led to another and.. i don’t know how to explain it. but please believe me, i love you.” you rambled, tears streaming like a waterfall.

he sat there and stared at you. the look in his eyes, it hurts you. he seems so angry, hurt, disgusted.

you did this to yourself.

“are you serious? with who? i genuinely cannot believe this.. i love you. and you do this to me?” he rasped.

“i know, i know.” you whined, “im so ashamed. but i just feel happier with her.. i can’t help it.”

as soon as that word left your mouth you immediately back tracked.

“i mean- him. i feel happier with him.” you sobbed.

“her? are you serious? are you actually leaving me for a woman?” he fumed.

“how? how could you do this to me? after everything i’ve done for you. the things i’ve put to risk for you?!” the pain in his voice makes you want to kill your self.

you feel like a horrible person.

you are a horrible person.

“jacob. please hear me out-”

“no,” he cut off. “if she’s better than me then go be with her. i tried my best, and if it wasn’t enough then i hope she is. i hope she treats you better than i did.”

the problem is, that’s the truth.

she does treat you better, and it hurts you.

he’s not her.

“i’m sorry jacob. that’s all i can say.” you cried.

“she can take my place. she might appreciate your sense of humor, and she might just be as equally insane.” he huffed.

“i’m gonna go now. im sorry, i really am. and i love you.”

“i loved you too.”

loved.

you walk out, not looking back. the regret you’re feeling is heavy. but you have to keep reminding yourself,

you wanted this.

after a few minutes you make it back to your car. you get inside, and the first thing you decide to do is call paige.

“i did it.” you sniffle over the phone.

“i’m sorry, it’s gonna be okay. if you want, you can come over baby.” she spoke over the phone, her sympathy showing.

“on my way.”

_______________________________________________

“he didn’t deserve you. you know that.” paige says, comforting you softly.

for about a half hour, you’ve been laying in paige’s arms, pouring your heart out.

“i just feel like- like i made the wrong decision. but at the same time i love you paige.” you sob, your words muffled as your head lays in the crook of her neck.

“look at me. it’s not your fault. after everything you’ve told me, he was not the fit for you. i don’t wanna see you hurt by that moron, you don’t deserve it.” she expressed.

“you really care about me that much paige?”

“what? of course i do. you mean the world to me. i’ll love you forever and always.” she promised.

a/n: ok so this is bad lol but if u enjoyed read the next chap plz lol bye

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers angst #angst #wlw post #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

Text

I Do

Part 2 of Marry Me

Summary: It's your wedding day and as you are getting ready you can't help but remember how you got to this point. But sometimes even on the happiest days, anxiety can be the biggest enemy.

Note: italicized sections are flashbacks

Warning: Angst with Fluff, dirty talk, almost office sex but getting caught, mention of death, toxic past relationships, panic attacks, drinking

Word count: 8.8k

“I can’t believe you're getting married!” Tony exclaimed probably for the hundredth time during this whole process. “I’m more nervous than I was for Vision’s wedding,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes as you sat in front of the makeup artist. You felt bad for the poor woman who had to endure your family’s antics.

“Honey, have a drink,” Maria pushed a glass of whiskey into Tony’s hand. “You are going to stress out the bride.” You weren’t stressed. You were 100% content and ready to marry the woman of your dreams. All you had to do was get through a silly little ceremony and it would be official. You told Yelena that you would settle for getting married in a courtroom but she wanted a wedding. So you gave her a wedding.

“You look like the day you told me you had a crush on her,” Howard said, coming from the balcony with a cigar in his mouth. “All flustered and nervous. If I knew any better I’d say you were getting married.” You chuckled slightly at the light blush creeping up Tony’s face.

“Well then I learned that she was gay,” he pointed at you. “You were my first heartbreak.” You chuckled.

“I think you did well for yourself,” you smiled.

“Damn, right he did!” Pepper said and your bridal party cheered. This was the only thing you cared about, having your family together. Well, not everyone. Damn, you missed your parents.

God, you had to have a long talk with Natasha about your last drink. Your head was throbbing. At least the newlyweds had the forethought to book a place with continental breakfast so everyone could nurse their hangovers. “Someone got laid last night,” Tony said, slamming down a cup of coffee and sitting in the chair next to you. The sound echoed in your head.

“Fuck Stark,” you groaned. “Why are you always so loud?” He chuckled at your expense. The man was never hungover, it was annoying.

“So are you going to tell me who it was?” He took a piece of toast off your plate. “Because I’m all your boss so I will find out,” you kept your mouth shut, sipping on your coffee. “I bet it was with Carol. She eyefucks you at every gala,” you smirked. You knew the former Air Force pilot was with Val, maybe they were looking for a third. “Monica is attractive, was it her? Please don’t tell me you joined Romanoff and Barnes.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. You sighed. “Fine I’ll tell you but you have to keep it quiet. Can you do that?” He nodded. You glared at him.

“Scouts honor. Now come on tell me,” he whined. You smiled, biting your lip as you remembered lasted night.

“It was Yelena,” Tony stared at you, mouth slightly open, and blinked a few times at you.

“Romanoff is going to kill you,” he deadpanned. “At least leave me something nice in your will.” You rolled your eyes, smacking the man slightly on the chest.

“She knows,” his face scrunched in disgust. “Oh my god, ew, not like that,” Laughing pulled your attention away from Tony and you watched as Yelena walked into the dining room with Kate and America. She was still wearing the long-sleeved shirt that you let her burrow. It made you smile. Tony hit your leg. “Sorry,” you snapped out of it. “Natasha gave her stamp of approval for me to pursue a relationship with her.”

“Why did you make it sound like a business proposition?” He asked. You huffed out a sigh, crossing your arms. “I’m kidding,” he laughed. “She’s the one that has put a smile back on your face,” you nodded. Yelena sat down at a table with her sister and her green eyes found yours, a playful smirk on her lips. You wanted to go over and kiss her again. “Well, I’m glad she’s making you happy.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Maria and Howard asked you to join them when your hair and makeup were done. It was a light look as you didn’t wear makeup in your normal day-to-day life. So you stood with them on the balcony that overlooked the winery. “You are making me kind of nervous,” you chuckled. It reminded you of when you and Tony ‘burrowed’ Howard’s 1960 red Mustang. He wasn’t happy.

“There is nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Maria said, sitting down at the small patio set. Her husband remained standing behind her. You sat down in front of her.

“We have a small gift for you,” you groaned. “Hey, lose the attitude squirt,” You fought the couple tooth and nail during this process. They wanted to help pay for the wedding or gift you something extravagant, but you declined both.

“It’s tradition for the bride to have something old, new, burrowed, and blue on their wedding day,” Maria explained. You and Yelena weren’t having a traditional American wedding with her being Russian and both members of the LGBTQ community but there were some things you were doing. You weren’t seeing each other until Yelena walked down the aisle, Yelena would be throwing her bouquet (you were hopping Natasha would catch it), and you had two flower girls (Lila and Morgan), and Nate and Cooper were your ring bearers.

“For your something burrowed,” Howard took off his cufflinks and handed them to you. “I expect those back in perfect condition.” he teased. You rolled your eyes but took them.

“For your something old,” Maria handed you a pin. “And it counts for your blue.” It was a blue jay pin that your mother gave her. She never took it off. You felt tears form in your eyes. “So they can be there with you while you walk down the aisle.”

“Your father gave me those,” Howard added. You choose Howard and Maria to walk you down the aisle in place of your parents. “They would be proud of you, kid,” you cleared your throat, trying to push down your emotions not wanting to ruin your makeup.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Both you. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It has been a pleasure to watch you grow up,” Maria stood up and kissed the top of your head. “Here is something new,” she pulled out a small box and a letter. “From your soon-to-be wife. We’ll let you open it in private.” You thanked the couple and they returned to the suite as you opened the box. Inside was a new pair of earrings. They were simple golden studs with a small diamond. You smiled and put them in, now you understood why Pepper told you not to wear earrings. You opened the letter.

‘Darling, There are so many things I wish to write in this letter but I’ll keep it brief and save it for my vows. I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together. As for the earrings, Maria told me a story of a family vacation you took with the Starks around the time of your parent's passing to Cape Code. You wore a pair of earrings that your mother gave you into the ocean and unfortunately lost them. I know these won’t be able to replace the ones you lost. But I hope they provide you with a sense of comfort along with the mementos Maria and Howard gave you. I love you and see you soon.’

You reread the letter a few more times before folding it nicely. You fiddled with the earrings. You were a mess that trip even more so when you lost your earrings. You missed them so deeply and you wished they were here with you.

“Are you sure they want me here?” Yelena asked, anxiously twisting the rings on her fingers. You were sitting in the driveway of the Stark Family Home. It was Maria’s birthday. Tonight was the small gathering for family and a few close friends and tomorrow was the bigger party. The Starks never needed a reason to party. You took her hand in yours, bringing it to your lips.

“They asked for you specifically,” it was true. When you told Tony about your new relationship, he couldn’t wait to tell his parents. They’ve met the blonde but you knew it was at a work event when you were introducing the new group of entrepreneurs. It was different now. She was just another Stark employee now she was a Stark employee and your girlfriend. “If you don’t want to go we can turn around and we can hang out at my place.” Yelena shook her head.

“Is Wanda going to be there?” You sighed.

“Yes,” the blonde tensed up. “But I don’t care about her. I’m with you and she made her choice.” You haven’t run into your ex-girlfriend since her wedding and your new relationship with Yelena. But you knew she knew. Vision seemed quite interested in your relationship, especially with how it would affect the workplace. It wasn’t a coincidence that an email from HR was in your inbox regarding relationships with coworkers.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you turned off the car and walked over to Yelena’s side to open the door for her. “My knight in shining armor,” she said, kissing your cheek. She had the small gift bag in her hand, that you knew Maria was going to be livid about. You held onto her hand as you led her up to the massive doorway. “I sometimes forget how much money the Starks have,” Yelena mumbled, looking at the house. “Tony is so..”

“Stupid, cocky, a pain in my ass,” the blonde laughed, pinching your sides. “Ouch, rude.”

“Don’t talk about our boss like that,” she teased. You rolled your eyes, ringing the doorbell.

“He was a brother to me long before he was chairman of Stark Industries.” It wasn’t long before the door swung open.

“There she is!” Howard said, pulling you in a hug. Your hand was ripped out of Yelena’s hold. “I guess you only come around when you know we’ll have food.” He teased.

“Let me go, old man,” you pushed him off of you as he messed with your hair.

“You did not just call me old,” he gasped. You stepped into the house and Yelena closed the door behind you. “It ain’t my birthday, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m telling your wife you said,” you smiled, fixing your hair and polo. “Howard, I would like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Yelena-”

“Yelena Belova,” the man cut you off, extending his hand for her to shake. “I know all about you. You are the reason Stark Industries is branching overseas to work with the Wakandans,” Yelena shook his hand. You saw the tension leave her body. “It has always been my dream for the company to expand so we can help more people. I’d love to hear all about it.”

“Darling,” you saw Maria walk over. “You promised there would be no talking about work.” She scolded her husband. “Hello, Yelena it’s wonderful to meet you.” The matriarch hugged your girlfriend. Over his wife’s shoulder, Howard mouthed, ‘We’ll talk later.’

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Yelena smiled. “And Happy Birthday.” She handed Maria the gift bag. The woman glared at you but you held up your hands.

“Wasn’t me,” you defended. “That was all her.” You were throwing your girlfriend to the wolves but when it came to Mama Stark it was for the best. Inside were two stained glass blue jays that she could hang in the window.

“Oh, I love them. Thank you,” she hugged your girlfriend again. Your mouth hung open slightly.

“How come when I get you a gift you threaten to kick me out of the will.”

“Hush you,” Maria teased, lopping her arm with Yelena. “Come. Dinner is almost ready so we are having drinks in the sitting room.” Maria dragged Yelena in the direction of the room, leaving you alone with Howard.

“Women,” he said, hitting you with his elbow. “Am I right?” You rolled your eyes.

“You always are,” You grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on let’s not keep everyone waiting.” When you joined the rest of the guests, Yelena was standing with Tony and Pepper. You excused yourself and joined the trio.

“About time you showed up,” Tony teased, as he leaned closer to you. “Someone has been sending dirty looks to your girlfriend.” You saw Wanda standing with Vision and Bruce, another close friend of the Stark Family. You chuckled.

“Maybe she’s upset I got lucky on her wedding night and she didn’t,” Tony gagged, punching you in the shoulder.

“Children,” Maria warned and Tony mumbled a ‘sorry mom’ under his breath. “Dinner is ready.” The group filled into the dining room, and each person had a personalized name plate to designate where everyone was sitting. You pulled out Yelena’s chair for her.

“Why don’t you do that for me anymore?” Pepper teased as she sat next to you. Tony huffed.

“They are in the honeymoon phase,” he said. “They’ll grow out of it.” You smiled, placing your hand on Yelena’s thigh.

“How are you doing?” You whispered.

“Good,” she smiled. “Really good.”

Once dinner was over, you joined Tony, Vision, and Howard for a glass of whiskey on the balcony. The Elder Stark would pass out cigars but you refused one. It was tradition. You remembered begging your father to join because you wanted to be with him and Tony instead of your mother. You haven’t been on this balcony since you broke up with Wanda. You missed it. Sitting back in your chair, you sipped on your drink and listened to the three Starks talk with one another. Your mind wandered to Yelena. You knew Wanda wouldn’t try to do anything to save face with Maria but you were worried nonetheless. “So,” Howard said, looking at you. Oh boy. “You’ve been oddly quiet. Most nights we can’t get you to shut up.”

“Cool thanks,” you smiled, wrapping your hands around the glass. “I liked listening to you guys talk,” you admitted. “It reminded me of when we were younger and my father was here to join us.” That shifted the conversation and you were grateful until Vision directed it back to you.

“How are you and Miss. Belova?” He asked. You almost choked on your drink.

“We are good,” you smiled. “Just taking it slow and learning more about each other.” You were not giving this man more information to feed to his wife.

“That girl is smart,” Howard praised. “She is going to go far in that company.” Oh, you knew that. She was helping you, Sharon, and Natasha create a branch in California. You were waiting on approval to go ahead with the project.

“Is your relationship affecting your workplace dynamic?” Vision questioned. “You are technically her superior.” Your jaw clenched. You heard Tony shift in his seat, ready to defend you but you held up your hand.

“It has not,” you answered. “If she has any issues, she reports it to Sharon, and then Sharon reports it to me so there is a non-biased party in the middle,” you sat up in your chair. “Now I have a question for you, Viz. Did you have these same levels of concern with Pepper and your brother’s relationship? Or do you just have a problem with it because it’s me?” You smiled. “Excuse me gentlemen but I need a refill.” You stood up and walked back into the house. Walking into the empty kitchen, you dumped your drink in the sink and washed the glass.

“I’m guessing my son said something to upset you.” You chuckled at Maria’s statement.

“He didn’t upset me,” you said. Besides you knew Tony was giving him an earful. “Are you getting a cup of tea? I can make you some.” She nodded and sat down. You began to prepare it. Your mother and Maria were the ones that taught you how to make it. Maria said you could win anyone over with the perfect cup of tea.

“I like her,” Maria broke the silence. You looked at the matriarch. “I like the smile you get when you look at her.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she’s great,” you leaned on the counter as you waited for the water to boil. “Do you think my parents would have liked her?” You asked Maria the same question about Wanda.

“Take my hand,” you did. “As long as you were happy they would have loved whoever you brought home,” the kettle began to whistle. It was the same answer she had given before. You turned around to pour the water into the mug. “But yes, they would have loved her.” That was new. You smiled, loving the warm feeling that covered you.

“Let’s have a toast!” Sarah said, pushing an empty champagne glass in your hand. Laura came up behind her to fill it with a smile.

“She’s been waiting for this moment all day,” you chuckled and thanked the mother of 3. You became close to the Barton Family because of Yelena, you loved going to their house in Iowa. Once everyone had a drink and Lila and Morgan were given apple juice, Tony raised his glass.

“To a beautiful ceremony and a reception we’ll all forget.” You rolled your eyes. Sarah raised her glass next, and you gave her a pointed look to be nice.

“To picking someone that loves you as hard as you love them.” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend.

“To looking hot and feeling hot.” Pepper cheered.

“To a long and happy life to the beautiful bride-to-be,” Laura added.

“Cheers!”

It was the Gala of the year, the anniversary of the day Stark Industries was founded. Everyone would be dressed to the nines, the best catering company would be hired and paired with the right drinks. At the end of the night, awards would be given, and there would be dancing, laughing, and sharing stories. Most importantly the press would be there. So much press. Everything had a place and a reason behind it. The type of food, the partners and competitors that were invited, and the way people arrived. It was the biggest headache for those who planned the party but when you stepped out of the car with flashing lights it was worth it. You arrived third to last, in front of Tony and Pepper and Maria and Howard. You rested your hand on Yelena’s thigh. It was the first big event you two were attending as a couple. She was wearing a high slight, dark blue dress with spaghetti straps. You were dressed in a black suit with a dark blue pocket square. Before you left, you gifted your girlfriend a diamond necklace which she was wearing. “Are you excited, sweetheart?” You asked, glancing at her.

“Fuck yeah. I’m ready to eat until I burst and drink alcohol I didn’t pay for,” you rolled your eyes, stopping the car and putting it in the park. A valet attendant would park it for you. You could hear the paparazzi and see the lights from their cameras.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Yelena smiled before capturing her lips with yours. It was a slow kiss and she pulled away before you could ruin her makeup. You could kiss her for hours if she let you. Every time you kissed her your stomach flipped.

“About 100 times, darling,” she said.

“Well I’ll tell you 100 more,” you kissed her again. “Let’s go woo the crowd, baby.” You got out first, waving to the crowd before running over to the passenger side. You opened the door and held out your hand. Yelena took it and you helped her out. The camera lights began to go crazy but your eyes were only on your girlfriend. You stared at each other for a moment before heading to the entrance. Then the questions started. ‘Y/n, how long have you been dating Yelena Belova?’ ‘Is this why you pushed so hard for the Wakanda Project?’ ‘Has this affected your working relationship?’ ‘Can you comment on Wanda and Vision’s relationship?’ But you paid no mind to them.

Oh, you remembered the headlines from the first event after your break up with Wanda and she attended it with Vision. ‘Maximoff is after a REAL Stark.’ ‘Y/n loses to the Starks again.’ It was brutal. Maria, the company’s PR, had to put out a lot of fires. You made it your mission to make her job as easy as possible. So you ignored the questions and you had a statement ready to go live tomorrow. You and Yelena stopped for one more picture before entering the venue. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, feeling safe within the building. Only selective reporters were allowed during the actual event. “I hate the press,” you mumbled, holding onto Yelena’s hand. She chuckled as her sister and Bucky walked over. The redhead was wearing a floor-length black strapless dress and Bucky wore a suit with his tie red that matched Natasha’s lipstick.

“I see you both made it through alive,” Natasha said.

“Barely,” Yelena teased.

“I don’t know how you deal with them all the time,” Bucky mumbled.

“With a lot of alcohol,” you smiled. “Let’s go drink.”

You were at the founder's table with the Starks plus Wanda, Pepper, Natasha, and Bucky. It was…special to say the least. You kept your hand on Yelena’s thigh while Wanda kept sending daggers your way. It was amazing to see how jealous she was as her new husband ignored her. You noticed Yelena’s drink was getting low as she was in a deep conversation with Pepper. You stood up and took her drink, whispering, ‘I’ll be right back,’ to your girlfriend. Before you could leave the table, Yelena turned to kiss you. You smiled and walked over to the bar. As you waited for the bartender, you heard a set of footsteps approaching you. You knew it was Wanda without having to turn around. You sighed. “What do you want Wanda?” You asked. “You’ve been starring daggers at me all night.”

“I don’t think Yelena is good for you,” She said, standing next to you. You gave yourself whiplash on how fast you turned to look at her, not hiding the shock by her blunt comment. “You both are in different stages of life. You are well established in your career and she’s just getting her footing. It’s not fair to you that she’s using you to get ahead.” Your jaw clenched. Oh, you were so close to losing your cool.

“It’s so nice that Vision looks like a loving and doting husband,” you deadpanned as the bartender put your drinks down. “Oh, I’m sorry I thought were saying things that aren’t true. Stay out of my relationship and I’ll stay out of yours.” As you grew into your career you learned to ignore what people said around you. It was damaging to your mental health to follow every rumor or lie spread about you. Even though your relationship wasn’t out to the public those you worked with knew. They were respectful at face value but you heard their whispers. They questioned the validity of your relationship with Yelena and you were only together to benefit the company or each other. It was ridiculous but your anxiety-induced brain made you question everything. Yelena was so far out of your league, that you wondered why she picked you.

You sat back down with your and Yelena’s drink. “Thank you, dorogoy (sweetheart),” she smiled but frowned suddenly. “What’s wrong?” She asked. You forced a smile and shook your head.

“Nothing,” you said, putting your arm behind her chair. “Don’t worry about it.” Yelena watched as Wanda returned to her seat, you could see the gears turning in her head. “Don’t,” you whispered in her ear and kissed her neck. “She’s not worth it.” She looked at you, her lips were inches from yours.

“Come with me,” she said. You knew there was no room for argument. You both excused yourself from the table as Tony cat-called you both. You fought the urge to flip him off as Yelena dragged you to a hallway. “What did she do?” She asked once you were alone.

“Nothing important,” you said, leaning against the wall. “Nothing that I know that isn’t true,” you looked away from the blonde. She sighed, closing the space, and used her finger to force you to look back at her.

“It’s bothering you. So I want to know how to help,” she smirked. “Or I can go over there and force her to tell me, you know I’ve been looking for a reason to kick her ass,” you chuckled. That would be a sight to see. You hated the idea of keeping stuff from her but you didn’t want to upset her. You sighed.

“She said you aren’t good for me,” you told her. “That you are just using me to advance your career.” Her green eyes went wide.

“You know that isn’t true, right?” She whispered. “I-I would never do that.” Tears began to swell in her eyes.

“Hey,” you brought her in for a hug. “I know you wouldn’t. No tears, okay? Don’t let that bitch ruin your makeup,” she laughed against your chest but you kept her in your arms when she didn’t pull away. “Sometimes,” you continued. “I can’t believe that I get to call you mine. You are so far out of my league that my mind likes to be my biggest enemy.” Yelena looked up at you.

“Have you looked in a mirror, detka (babe)?” She questioned. “Or hear what some of the newer associates say about you or read what the press writes?” You remembered the article that Tony joked about. You were New York City’s most eligible bachelorette for a while. “You have the looks, power, and money, and I’m out of your league.”

“Yes because you see as me and not as a Stark without the last name.”

“And I love you with or without the responsibility that comes with that name.” You stared at her.

“I love you too,” you said without hesitation and captured her lips. Someone coughing broke you both apart. It was Maria.

“As cute and disgusting as this is,” she smirked. “The award ceremony is about to start.” Ugh, that meant it was time for your speech.

“Thank you, Maria,” Yelena smiled. “We’ll be right out,” the brunette left, playfully pointing to her watch. “Ready?” You weren’t. You were dreading to go back to that table. As your girlfriend turned to leave, you pulled her back towards you. “What-?” you kissed her.

“Tell me again,” you whispered against her lips. She looked confused. “Please baby girl,” you pleaded. “Tell me again.” Her confusion disappeared and she smiled.

“I love you,” the blonde said. “I am yours and you are mine.” Your heart fluttered.

“I’m yours.”

“Are you excited?” Pepper asked, helping you put on Howard’s cufflinks. You waited for the click of the camera to go off before answering.

“I am,” you smiled. “I think I’m more excited for the reception than the ceremony.” Another photo. Pepper laughed.

“I was the same way,” she moved behind you to fix your collar and lay your bow tie flat. “I want you to know Yelena has helped you a lot but you’ve done amazing as well.” If Tony was the brother you never had, Pepper was the sister. You smiled. “It wasn’t easy but you opened up your heart again.”

“It was worth it,” you told her. “It was worth all the growing pains and hurdles we went through,” Pepper hummed. “And thank you for being there when I wasn’t. You have a lot on your plate and I’m sorry I added onto it.”

“Never apologize,” she placed your hands on your shoulders. “You are family,” you watched her smile through the mirror. “Now you are wedding ready.” You were wearing a cream three-piece suit. The blue jay pin was attached to your breast pocket and the color of your bow tie matched the sage green of the bridal party. You smiled back at her.

You loved your job. Loved it so much. But there were moments that you hated it. You figured that was common for any job. There was a pile of new hires, project requests, and yearly reviews that needed to be done. It seemed to be never-ending as the company continued to grow. You sighed, rolling your neck to release some of the tension, and got back to work. The hours seemed to keep passing but the piles of paper were never ending. A gentle knock on your office caused you to look up as Yelena walked in. “Hi,” you said. She looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” She countered. “We were supposed to meet at Kumos and you weren’t answering your phone. I was worried,” you glanced at the clock.

“Shit,” you stood up suddenly, knocking against your desk. The lamp rattled from the impact. “I’m so sorry. I lost track of time.” You rushed out. Your hands shook as you began to organize the papers on your desk.

“Hey, it’s okay.” But you shook your head.

“I should have been paying attention to the time,” you said. You felt the panic build in your chest. “I got busy with all this,” you gestured to the mess on your desk. “I’m not creating excuses,” you added on. “I-”

“Dorogoy (sweetheart),” she cut you off, raising her hands to stop you. You flinched from the sudden action. Yelena frowned, the worry evident on her face. “Baby,” she said slowly.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. You needed to get out of here. Quickly, you ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and slid down the wall until you hit the ground. It felt like there was a thousand pounds of pressure resting on your chest. Every breath you tried to take got caught in your lungs. Everything felt too small and too big at once like you were sinking and couldn’t get out.

Yelena watched as you quickly ran into the small bathroom and slammed the door shut. The sound caused the blonde to snap out of her haze and rush to the door but she heard the door lock. “Fuck,” she mumbled. She knew banging on the door and pleading for you to come out would send you deeper into a panic attack. She’s had to calm her sister down from them. Fishing her phone out of her pocket she scrolled through her contacts. Tony was out of town. She wasn’t sure if she could get her sister involved and she sure wasn’t hell going to call Wanda. That left Pepper. The Russian has texted the CEO a handful of times, mostly regarding takeout when they were at the office late. She was running out of options and hit call. The CEO picked up on the second ring.

“Yelena,” she said slowly. “What’s wrong?” The blonde sighed and began to pace in front of your bathroom.

“I’m in Y/n’s office and she had a panic attack and locked herself in the bathroom. I didn’t know who to call or what to do,” Yelena rattled off. Pepper was silent on the other end.

“I’ll be right down,” she sighed in relief.

“Thank you. I owe you one,” Pepper chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the CEO said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

You were still on the floor, back against the wall, and knees to your chest. Everything you tried to calm your breathing down didn’t work and you felt yourself panic all over again. “Hey, it’s me,” you heard Pepper say. “Can you open the door for me?” You couldn’t move. “Or do you want me to use Tony’s spare key?”

“Key,” you said. The door unlocked and Pepper slowly opened it. You watched with tears in your eyes as she closed it behind her and sat down next to you.

“When was the last time you washed this floor?” She joked. You laughed as the dam finally broke. “Come here,” she pulled in a side hug as you cried against her.

“Is-is she mad at me?” You asked.

“No, she’s just worried but we aren’t going to talk about that right now. I just need you to breathe.” You’ve been plagued by panic attacks all of your life and you were prescribed medication at 10 years old. Sometimes the pill didn’t help and your anxiety got the better of you. But this helped, being fully hugged by another person grounded you. You focused on the way Pepper slowed down her breathing and the scent of her floral perfume. “Tell me,” she finally said, drawing circles on your back. “What’s going through your head?” You let out a shaky breath.

“I got caught up in work,” you told her. “And I missed a date with Yelena. I panicked.”

“Why did you panic? Yelena told me you flinched when she raised her hands.” You did?

“I thought she was going to be mad at me,” you said slowly. Pepper pulled away from you to sit in front of you. She pulled your legs down so you could get more air in your lungs.

“Can you be honest with me for one question?” You nodded. “Did Wanda hit you?” Your eyes widened at the accusation.

“What? No, never,” Pepper didn’t look convinced. “I promise. Sometimes she would get upset if she thought I was prioritizing work over our relationship. It was my fault,” you defended. “I should have done better. I should have been better.” Pepper sighed.

“Honey, you and Tony are so much alike I have to remind myself you aren’t a full-blood Stark,” you smiled, wiping away some of your tears. “Do you know how many times he has missed a date because he was too busy? I’ll answer, a lot,” you chuckled. Half the time you were in the lab when Pepper came looking. She never got angry with him, a simple roll of her eyes and she asked what he was working on. You would order pizza or Chinese and the three of you would sit and talk and laugh. It was some of your favorite memories. “I knew he didn’t love me any less. His brain is just a little scattered just like yours.” That was an underestimate, you had so many thoughts and ideas running through your head it was a little overwhelming. “My guess is when you missed a date with Wanda you made it up to her an extravagant way the next day.” You nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want her to be upset with me. I-” You cleared your throat. “I sometimes flinch when someone raises their voice or moves their hands quickly. I love my parents but they argued a lot.”

“Have you told Yelena this?” You shook your head, looking down at your hands. “Why?”

“Wanda didn’t seem interested in helping me through it,” you shrugged. “I learned to manage it by myself.” Wanda was your first real girlfriend. You didn’t count quick flings in high school and college or random hookups here and there. You were too busy with work or school or managing your public image.

“Look at me,” you did. She was pissed. You’ve seen her with this dark look in her eyes when she was speaking to Stark’s competitors or dealing with the press. “I need you to listen to me, okay?” You nodded. “Yelena is not Wanda and I know it’s gonna take time for you to trust her with this part of you but doesn’t seem better to have some help with this,” you nodded. It was lonely, swimming in the dark cavern looking for a way out. Pepper smiled. “Do you want to speak with Yelena?”

“Yes, please,” you were surprised that she was still here. “Thank you, Pepper. I appreciate it.” The CEO stood up and walked over to the door.

“We are family, always have been, and always will be, got it?” You nodded. “Now follow up question, do you want me to kill Wanda?” Your jaw dropped but soon your laugh echoed against the bathroom walls. “I’m serious. I don’t care if she’s my sister-in-law or whatever.”

“No need,” you smiled. “Besides I think that list is pretty long.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Pepper winked at you before exiting that bathroom.

The door wasn’t closed for long as it reopened and Yelena walked in, taking the spot where Pepper sat. “Hi baby,” you whispered, holding out your hand. She took it. “First, I’m sorry I hid from you. I was just scared and stressed with work. Second, thank you for calling Pepper.” She nodded as she stared at your connected hands.

“What can I do to help?” She questioned. You raised your eyebrows in question. “Your panic attacks. What do you need?” Oh. Wanda never asked. “For me, I don’t like to be touched and the 5 senses counting down works best for me,” you frowned.

“I don’t know you got panic attacks.” Yelena chuckled.

“I bounced around Russian and American foster homes of course I have panic attacks.”

“Why haven’t you told me about them?”

“Why haven’t you told me about yours?” She countered. You sighed, looking away from her. “Not sure when the best time to talk about my past.” She squeezed your hand.

“Wanda didn’t bother to help me,” you admitted. “So I’ve learned to keep it to myself.”

“Hey,” she said softly. You looked at her. “I’m not Wanda. I’m here for the good and the bad, okay?” You nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You were sitting on the couch while you listened to Sarah and Tony bicker back and forth. According to Maria, you were ahead of schedule so you had a few moments of peace before it got crazy again. “Knock, knock,” the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in wearing a sage green dress.

“Looking good, Romanoff,” Tony whistled. The redhead rolled her eyes.

“You clean up nice, Stark,” she looked at you. “Can we talk?” You hated the way your stomach dropped.

“Yeah, of course,” you stood up and walked over to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you gave her a pointed look. “Okay, Yelena had a small panic attack and locked herself in the bathroom. She’s refusing to come out.”

“Take me to her.” You said to her without hesitation.

“I can’t,” she sighed. “She doesn’t want you to see her.”

“I can speak to her through the door,” you reasoned with her. “Natasha, please.”

“Come on,” Natasha gave in. You left your suite without a word to your bridal party and followed her to her room where Yelena was getting ready. You were grateful for Natasha. If it wasn’t for her gentle push you knew you would have danced around your feelings for her sister, too scared to mess up your friendship with her.

“Just send it over to me,” you said, pacing behind your desk. “No, I trust you completely but you have your hands full and I can help,” the door to your office quietly opened. You smiled at your girlfriend and put your finger up to tell her you would be done in a minute. “Hope, I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” Yelena pushed your chair out of the way and sat on top of your desk. You smiled. “I know the next time I’m in California we'll get drinks. Give my love to Scott and Cassie. Bye,” you hung up. Yelena spread her legs to make space for you. You through your phone onto the chair and placed your hands on her thighs. “What are you doing, baby?” You asked. She placed her arms around your neck.

“I was missing you,” you smirked.

“You saw me at the all-company meeting.” She huffed.

“Not the same and you know it,” she pouted. You chuckled, kissing her shoulder and up to her neck. She pulled you closer.

“You can’t stay long,” you mumbled inches away from her lips. “I have a meeting with your sister.” The blonde rolled her eyes, groaning slightly.

“Please never mention my sister and kiss me.” You obeyed because you could never deny her. You kept the kiss slow, not trusting yourself to get carried away. Yelena was intoxicating, that was the best way to describe her. You could get lost in the way she kissed and touched you.

“Yelena,” you warned when you felt her tug your hair slightly. “We can’t do this here.” You wanted to push all your work off your desk and take her right here but you couldn’t. The morning wasn’t enough for you.

“Your meeting with your Chief of Staff isn’t for another 45 minutes,” Yelena mumbled. “You can make me cum before then.” You groaned, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Baby girl,” you whispered, kissing her neck. “You can’t say stuff like that.” You heard her breathing hitch when your lips grazed a sensitive spot on her neck.

“Clocks a ticking, moya lyubov’ (my love),” the last of your restrain flew out of the window and you crashed your lips against hers. She smiled, grabbing onto you tightly as your fingers fiddled with the belt of her pants and unzipped the zipper.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” You asked, hands skimming underneath her shirt and goosebumps erupted on her skin. “It’s so hard to keep my hands off of you.”

“Pozhaluysta (please), don’t tease me.” You chuckled, nipping at the skin underneath her ear. You were careful to not leave any visible marks.

“I got you, sweetheart,” you promised. “I’ll always have you.” You trailed your hand down her chest and trailed your finger underneath her pants, the door of your office opened. Yelena jumped, zipping up her pants.

“Ugh,” Natasha groaned. “Not you two too,” she walked over to your desk with the paperwork for your meeting. “I already have to worry about walking in on Carol and Val.” Yelena burrowed her face in the crook of your neck unable to look at her sister. You chuckled.

“Please, I’ve walked in on you and Bucky so many times,” Natasha smirked.

“A little tip, lock the door,” she hit Yelena on the shoulder. “Come on sestra you can get laid on company time after our meeting.” You felt the blonde let out a small huff and jump off your desk, kissing you softly. Your girlfriend flipped her sister off before leaving your office and closed the door behind her.

“Shut up,” you said, sitting down in your chair.

“I have to go bleach my eyes after this meeting,” you rolled your eyes as Natasha sat down. But that smirk was still on her face. “Or drink it so I can forget the image of you having your hand down my sister’s pants.”

“My hand was not down her pants,” you deadpanned. Natasha glared at you. “Whatever, let’s get this meeting going.” Natasha chuckled.

“Of course, someone has a meeting to have an orgasm.”

Natasha opened the door to the suite and it was empty of Yelena’s bridal party. She opened the closed door. “Thank you.”

“I’ll give you space. Call me if you need anything,” you nodded and walked over to the bathroom door, gently knocking on the door.

“Go away,” her voice shook. You fought every nerve in your body to break down the door and wrap her in your arms.

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” She was silent on the other side.

“You're not supposed to see me.” You smiled.

“I’m behind the door, my love. I can’t see you, I promise. Can you tell me what’s going on?” You could hear her breathing begin to pick up. “Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Count for me, baby. 5 things you can see.” You wondered if she heard you as she was so quiet.

“Natasha’s makeup bag, a hair dryer, my towel, Melina’s robe,” she laughed. “And a bottle of vodka Alexei left.” You laughed along with her. You loved Melina and Alexei, the odd couple who always made you laugh.

“Good job sweetheart. 4 things you can touch.”

“Bathroom mat, the door, the tile floor, and the silk of my robe.” You praised her each time she counted something in the bathroom that went along with her senses until her breathing slowed down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this,” you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. You sat down with your back against the door.

“Nonsense,” you said. “You will always be my number one priority. So why did you lock yourself in the bathroom?” You asked. You heard her sigh.

“People are going to be looking at me,” she finally said. You kept the snarky comment at bay; ‘Well it is your wedding.’ You knew there was more. “And I started to panic because what if I fall or mess up my vows or Alexei embarrasses me.” You smiled.

“Well, he’s already going to do that so that’s a given,” she chuckled. “Do you want to call off the wedding?” Yelena gasped.

“No, no. I think Natasha would kill me,” You knew she would never do that. “And I’m not doubting I want to marry you,” well that was a relief. “I just panicked.” You hummed. “You must think I’m stupid.”

“Never, baby, I understand anxiety better than most people. There are going to be a lot of eyes on both of us but do you know where my eyes will be?”

“Where?” Yelena questioned.

“On you. I don’t care about anybody else,” you truthfully said. “And you just have to keep your eyes on me. Nobody else matters,” she was quiet as you brought one leg up to your chest and chuckled. “Do you remember when I asked you to marry me?”

“Before or after I punched you,” she deadpanned. You laughed which caused Yelena to laugh along with you. You asked her to marry her on parent’s farm. She was in disbelief at the question her instinct was to punch you. It got a laugh out of everyone that was there to witness it but she said yes.

“Happiest day of my life,” you admitted. “Well, that is a lie, every day spent with is the happiest day of my life.”

“That was disgustingly cute,” you rolled your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “So are we going to get married today?” You heard rustling on the other side of the door, you figured she was standing up. You mirrored her actions. The clicking of the door unlocked and it opened slightly. She brought out her hand and you took it.

“See you are the alter,” you kissed her hand.

“See you there.”

Oh, you were going to throw up. You wanted to take back everything you said. You were nervous as Maria kissed your cheek and Howard hugged you, and they left you at the altar. They took their seats next to the empty ones you left for your parents. Next was the wedding party and you felt Tony grab onto your shoulder. “You are going to cause an earthquake for how much you are shaking,” he mumbled. “Breathe.” You nodded as Cooper and Nate walked down the aisle followed by Lila and Morgan. The music changed, the crowd stood up, and there she was.

“Holy shit,” you said, smiling. You heard Tony and Pepper chuckle at your reaction. It was the first time you saw the dress. Yelena went dress shopping with Melina, Natasha, Laura, and Pepper when you were on a work trip. The dress had a lace top and the style hugged every curve. It had a beautiful train behind her. Every guest's eyes were on her, she was the star of the show but her green eyes were only on you. Alexei kissed Yelena on the top of her head when they stopped in front of you and he turned to face you.

“You hurt, my little girl, I will kill you,” he deadpanned but you saw the joke in his eyes. “I have the skills to do it.” You rolled your eyes at the man.

“Dad,” Yelena warned but Alexei ignored his daughter and hugged you tight.

“You are good for her,” he whispered. “You keep her heart good.” He let you go and joined Melina at his seat. You took her hands and smiled.

“Hi,” you said. “You didn’t fall.” Yelena chuckled softly.

“No,” she whispered. “My eyes were only on you.”

With the ceremony over, changed into your reception suit, and a plate full of food, you made your way back to the sweetheart's table. You stopped as you saw Wanda walking with Carol. You knew she RSVP you still weren’t sure if she’d come. Placing your bowl of mac and cheese down and took a sip of your drink. Damn your wife for getting you addicted to the cheesy pasta. Wife. Yelena was your wife. You loved the sound of that. You walked over to your ex. To your surprise, she smiled when she saw you. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” You admitted.

“You are the one that invited me.”

“Well, you invited me to yours. I was just returning the favor,” You looked around the venue. “Where’s the hubby?” You questioned.

“Watching the twins,” you raised your eyebrow.

“He doesn’t like me very much does he?” You asked. She didn’t answer but her smile told you everything. There was a time you hated the man too but you learned to let that emotion go. It was better to move forward and not get stuck in the past.

“I wanted to apologize to you and at some point Yelena.” That was odd. “Natasha knocked some sense into me.” You chuckled. “So I’m sorry.” You crossed your arms.

“For what exactly?” There was a lot she needed to apologize and you wondered what she was going to pick. Wanda sighed.

“I have a lot to apologize for but I’m sorry for everything I said about you and Yelena. It was done in poor taste and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“I’m not giving it to you,” her face showed the shock she was in. “I don’t think you realize how damaging your actions and words hurt me and the person I love.”

“Why did you invite my family?” She asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” You moved to stand next to her to overlook the party. Yelena was doing a shot with Natasha, Bucky, and Alexei. She changed out of her wedding dress into a white jumpsuit. You loved the way she was smiling. “I don’t like how things ended between us,” you stated. “At one point you were my best friend but it got us to where we needed to be. You with Vision and me with Yelena. I guess it counts for something,” You looked at Wanda, who was frowning. “You aren’t happy with Vision, are you?” Wanda sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Not as happy as I thought I’d be.” You wondered what was going on behind closed doors. You hummed.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Wanda. The talent behind happiness is appreciating and liking what you have, instead of what you don’t have.” You walked over to Yelena, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Having fun?” You asked. She excitedly nodded her head.

“I beat Bucky at Pennies,” she said, smiling at you sheepishly. You squeezed her waist to get her to tell you what she was hiding. “You are going to need more mac and cheese, I ate yours.” You gasped.

“Baby!” You spun her around in your arms as she laughed. “We have an all-you-can-eat mac and cheese bar and you eat mine.” Her laughter continued as she rested her chin on your chest. “Why did you eat mine?”

“Because it was just sitting there and I like how you make yours and I couldn’t let it get cold so I ate it.” She giggled.

“God, I fucking love you,” you mumbled, kissing her.

“ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, moya zhena (I love you too, my wife)”

“Moya zhena (my wife),” you repeated and kissed her again.

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#yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female!reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fanfiction #marvel au #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction

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contemplatingoutlander · 11 days ago

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RFK Jr. to head newly formed Department of Disease Efficiency

We mistakenly thought that finding a dead mouse in your frozen ravioli dinner was a failure.

WaPo satirist Alexandra Petri slices and dices Trump's new HHS appointment of RFK, Jr. This is a gift🎁link, so you can read the entire article. I suppose it is better to laugh at the absurdity of it all than to cry.🤷🏻‍♀️ Below are some excerpts. Enjoy! 😁

Well, President-elect Donald Trump has picked Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as the new head of the Department of Health and Human Services. “He wants to do some things and we’re going to let him go to it,” Trump said. “Go have a good time, Bobby.” Everyone who is an HHS employee and is not the measles virus: You are on notice! We’re taking this department in a new direction! Measles, stand back and stand by. It’s about to be your time. We’re doing our best to give the people what they want. For many years we thought what they wanted was clean drinking water, safe and tested vaccines to drive down deaths from childhood diseases, and food that is produced in sanitary conditions so the people who eat it don’t get sick. But we were wrong, and the change starts now. Similarly, we mistakenly thought that finding a dead mouse in your frozen ravioli dinner was a shock. Now, we know better. It’s a surprise! People love surprises. People love danger! Our ancestors didn’t stare down death every time they went out to hunt and eat food that had not been subject to Food and Drug Administration inspection so we wouldn’t have to stare down death every day as we went out to buy food that has not been subject to FDA inspection. You want to consume a can of beans and live? TOUGH LUCK! THIS IS DONALD TRUMP’S AMERICA! In light of this, and of the nomination of RFK Jr. as our leader, we at the Department of Health and Human Services are announcing a rebrand as the Department of Disease Efficiency. Given our new mandate to root out expertise wherever it might lurk and replace it with Something That Came To RFK Jr. In A Dream Once, we felt it was proper to release “Health” and “Human Services” back into the wild, where maybe RFK Jr. can hunt them down with his falcon and eat them before they have undergone an FDA inspection. Look, most Americans are not equipped to test food safety or vaccine safety on their own. And that’s because, unwisely, we have delegated these tasks to the FDA. It’s time we gave them back to the people. Every citizen should learn to inspect his own meat, like the Founders did. George Washington (who apparently only had one real tooth left at the end of his life) did not drink fluoridated water. Abraham Lincoln (one of whose children actually made it to adulthood!) never gave his children safe, routine childhood vaccinations. Franklin D. Roosevelt (who had polio) had polio. It’s time we went back to that. Now is not the time to rest on our laurels. Now is the time to throw our laurels away. We’re going to think outside the box. For too long, our ideas have been limited to “things medical professionals recommend” and we have mistakenly viewed each death as a disgrace and failure. Now, it’s time to abandon that hidebound, old-fashioned thinking. Maybe disease is an ally, not an enemy! Maybe we can attract a new consumer, someone who is as excited as RFK Jr. is to wonder if water is turning children gay. [...] Finally, we can declare victory in the long, bitter war against lifesaving human innovations like pasteurization and the polio vaccine! I don’t know why we want to declare victory in this war, but I guess it’s what we’re doing.

#rfk jr #trump #health and human services #food and drug safety #vaccines #satire #alexandra petri #the washington post #gift link

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misfitwashere · 22 days ago

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We the People will succeed

A note of reassurance on election eve.

ROBERT REICH

NOV 4

Friends,

These are the most stressful and nerve-wracking days I can recall. I vacillate between optimism and fear, hope and dread.

You?

I don’t recall an election in which the two candidates represent such opposite poles of the American character.

Harris is the rule of law; Trump, lawlessness. Harris, inclusion; Trump, exclusion. Harris, decency; Trump, loathsomeness. Harris, the American Dream; Trump, the American nightmare.

Harris wants the best for the country; Trump wants the best only for himself.

I don’t need to go on. You know all this. The question is why doesn’t everyone else? That almost half of America appears willing to vote for Trump is itself shocking.

I write this short missive to you every day (sometimes more than once a day) because I want to fortify you. Not just with facts, analysis, and logic, but also with reminders of our shared morality.

I want to reassure you about the common good.

A large part of that common good consists of our concern for something larger than personal wealth, power, or advantage over others — in other words, the opposite of Trump.

The common good is what we owe one another as members of the same society. These duties create a set of relationships that give us a civilized way of living together.

But the common good has been under assault in two ways.

First, it’s been under assault by people with great wealth who have been using their wealth to corrupt our democracy and spew cynicism about the whole project of self-government.

These people include Elon Musk, Rupert Murdoch, Peter Thiel, and Tim Mellon.

Let me also add two powerful people whose cowardice has been reprehensible: Jeff Bezos, who won’t allow his Washington Post to endorse Kamala Harris because he’s afraid of angering Donald Trump. And Jamie Dimon, chair and CEO of JPMorgan Chase, America’s largest bank, who never misses an opportunity to comment on public issues but has gone silent when it comes to the dangers posed by Trump.

Worse yet, hugely wealthy people like them have rigged the American political and economic system to their own benefit. They have siphoned off a significant part of the gains of the economy.

The median wage for the bottom 90 percent of Americans has risen just 15 percent in real terms over the last forty years. Over the same years, the stock market has risen 5000 percent. In the 1960s, CEO pay was 20 times the typical worker’s pay. Today, it’s 320 times.

Second, the common good has been under assault by people who have been exploiting Americans’ fears of others to build their political power. The “others” include immigrants, people of color, gay people, trans people, secularists, even women.

The perpetrators include Donald Trump, JD Vance, and much of the current Republican Party, which has become a cesspool of bigotry and lies.

There’s an important relationship between these two threats to the common good.

A major reason so many Americans are willing to follow Trump and blow up the system is they feel they have nothing to lose.

For years they’ve worked hard and followed the rules but have gotten nowhere. They’ve become frustrated, anxious, and angry. Trump, Vance, and the Republican Party have tapped into these feelings and channeled them into hate of “them” — as if immigrants, people of color, gay and trans people, secularists, and women are responsible for what has happened to white working class men.

Both threats to the common good are inviting brutality. They are undermining decency. They are corroding our shared morality.

In these ways, Trump and his sycophants and funders have elevated the dark side of the American psyche. They have normalized viciousness in America.

Since Trump came on the scene in 2015, hate crimes have soared. America has become even more polarized. Average Americans say and do things to people they disagree with that in a different time would have been unthinkable.

Defeating Trump and Vance tomorrow (or however long it takes for the election to be decided) is only the first step.

The next step is to hold Trump accountable for his criminality.

Third, we must contain the billionaires who are undermining American democracy. We must demand a tax on great wealth, more vigorous antitrust enforcement to break up monopolies, and true campaign finance reform.

Fourth, and hardest of all: We must ensure that Americans who have voted for Trump — whether out of anger, despair, bigotry, or delusion — are brought back into the realm of rationality and included in the nation’s future prosperity.

We must create means to achieve the American Dream that do not require a four-year college degree. We have to get big money out of our politics. Social media must filter out hateful disinformation.

The preamble to the Constitution of the United States opens with the phrase “We the people,” conveying a sense of shared interest and a desire “to promote the general welfare,” as the preamble goes on to say.

Which brings me back to tomorrow’s election.

I know you’re scared and stressed. So am I. Some of you may feel quite alone right now. You are not.

All I can say to reassure you is that time and again, Americans have opted for the common good.

We supported one another during the Great Depression. We were victorious over Hitler’s fascism and Soviet communism. We survived Joe McCarthy’s communist witch hunts, Richard Nixon’s crimes, Lyndon Johnson’s Vietnam War, the horrors of 9/11, and George W. Bush’s wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. So far, we have survived Donald Trump’s malignant narcissism.

The common good in America is still alive.

If we are true to our history and ideals, Kamala Harris will win, and we’ll get through the destruction Trump will again try to wreak on our democracy in the wake of his defeat, as we did before. And we will get on with the work of achieving broadly-shared prosperity and strengthening our democracy.

We the people will succeed.

#robert reich

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eye-in-hand · 1 month ago

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I think a lot of the American rad-left support of the USSR stems from the radical left of the mid century; a time where America was fighting the cold war via propping up the "American Dream", one that is very heteronormative, patriarchal and of course, capitalistic. Because being gay, non-christian, against marriage, etc was labeled communist. So of course to be against the American propaganda you had to be communist right? To be pro-lgbt, women and racial rights, etc you were labeled a communist here.

The issue is of course, that this idea of communism is not rooted in how communism has ever played out, actually living under communism, or being affected as millions of people die of starvation around you. American radical leftism is still American. You are still viewing the world as an American, no matter how much you denounce your ties to the country you live in. Until you can acknowledge the evils, and listen to the people that were oppressed under the USSR or CCP, you will never actually understand communism. You understand the big boogie man America made up. You are playing McCarthyism even if you're on "the other side" of it.

Like cultural christian atheists who treat every religion like Christianity, you're still looking at the world through a christian lens even if you aren't christian anymore, until you self reflect and branch out of what you consider normal.

American "communists" are not communists, and they never will be until they actually look past their American idea of communism.

It's more important to be pro-human rights (LGBT, womens, racial, etc) than it is to be communist or capitalist. The economy will always favor those who created it, otherwise they wouldn't have created it. But human rights and having values is more important than what those values make other people label you as.

I've been called a communist, I've been called McCarthy, etc. At the end of the day what I stand for is human rights. Capitalism and Communism are economic systems, tools for the economy and the work force/production of labor. Not for human beings.

And if you actually think the USSR or places like that stand for human rights just because they're anti-west? You're painfully American.

#politics//

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comfycuddles · 6 months ago

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Some more quotes of my dumbass friends that I think fit supernatural characters

Gaberiël: Zeus, make Switzerland number 1, and my life is yours!

Bobby: I don't get this whole racist/sexism thing. I mean. Black people are shit, white people are shit, men are shit, women are shit, straight people are shit, gay people are shit. Everyone is equally shit. Deal with it.

Jack: My parents took my phone, and now all my snap-streaks are ruined. Now I feel like curling up in a little ball and cry.

Sam: Hey, remember when we had hopes and dreams and shit?

Dean: No...

Garth: I'm listening to my chicken nuggets in the fryer.

Kevin: School will start at 7:55. Somebody please end my life so I can die well-rested.

Dean: So what are we going to do?

Cas: *eating a gummybear* Drugs, like the bad bitches we are.

Claire: *Looking stressed*

Jody: What's wrong?

Claire: I fucked up.

Jody: What did you fuck up?

Claire: Life.

Dean: Which chipmunk do you think fits my personality?

Crowley: Theodore.

Dean: Why?

Crowley: Because you're always stuffing your fucking face. Which one am I?

Dean: Alvin.

Crowley: Why?

Dean: Because you can't shut the fuck up.

Sam: You still sleep with stuffed animals?

Charlie: I don't want them to be lonely...

Sam: So today, my hallway crush joined our table because there were no more seats left. I didn't realize this. So the first words my hallway crush has heard me say were: "No, I'm telling you. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson are superduperfuckingmegajumbo gay for each other. Unrelated note: Who wants to set me on fire?

Meg: People who commit murders really have no brain whatsoever. Use gloves people, they can detect fingerprints now!

Charlie: Every day you find out new stuff about yourself. Today I discovered my love for Winnie The Pooh.

Kevin: Don't you have like 40 teddy's of the Winnie The Pooh gang?

Charlie: Well America was always there as well, that still doesn't mean they didn't discover it!

Charlie: No, you don't understand. I NEED a big, floppy coat so that when I run it flaps behind me like a superhero cape.

Lucifer: I hate coffee, It's too bitter.

Balthazar: So? Fits with your personality.

#supernatural #castiel #charlie #crowley #dean winchester #kevin tran #sam winchester #garth fitzgerald iv #archangel gabriel #meg #Balthazar #bobby singer #jack kline #claire novak #jody mills #lucifer #supernatural incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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sowritten · 4 months ago

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TO WONG FOO, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING! JULIE NEWMAR

feel free to edit pronouns, etc. as needed

If we're going to be friends, there really is something I should tell you.

I can tell you one thing about them founding fathers of America; they sure had fabulous wigs.

Your approval is not needed.

I've waited my whole life to hear those words. And I'm very, very, very happy that you're the one to say them.

Nothin' this pretty could be real.

What in gay hell?

Looks like it's the age-old dilemma: style, or substance?

I think of you as an angel.

I think that's healthy!

Do you ever, like, not cry in this room?

Baby, you can have him.

I got a million dream lovers, alright?

I've got a broken heart for every light on Broadway. And when one of them goes out, I just screw in another one, okay, hello good-bye.

I'm the Latina Marilyn Monroe. I've got more legs than a bucket of chicken!

I didn't ask to come on this trip, did I? No, I don't think so!

As soon as we get to the next town I am jumping on the first man and riding him all the way to New York City and away from you 'cause this trip sucks! It sucks!

How do I look?

I don't know who he is, but if there's a snowstorm tonight, he's going on my tires.

Since you have obviously learned nothing, I am hereby stripping you of all your princess points.

I don't need a dream. I have a plan.

That might be all fine and dandy but you still have a lot more to learn.

Does everything have to be a joke with you?

This is not a masquerade! This is real life!

Oh, my God, I'm like a compass near north.

You have the potential of a lifetime and you are squandering it.

I want you to turn your swayback little self around on those Robert Clergerie Knockoffs and get back in this car.

Larger than life is just the right size.

No one is so rich as to throw away a friend.

I'll bet you were the brightest in your class, weren't you?

I feel like Miss Jayne Mansfield in this car.

You gotta take chances, because you never know, you know what I mean?

I'm not gonna worry about if people accept me or not.

I'm gonna make Hollywood wherever I am at.

I want you to believe in yourself, imagine good things and moisturize, I cannot stress this enough.

There are times when you help people, and then there are times when if you help people, you end up being killed.

Go on and talk to him, you speak honky!

This America does not respond kindly to our sort of person.

No one say anything frivolous for the next few moments.

I am having a significant experience.

Try to describe her and not use the word "statuesque".

I've had enough of this conversation, I'm hungry.

Let's just relax. It's gonna be alright.

A car? Mary Alice Louise, no. This is a land yacht.

How you gonna hitchhike if there are no cars, stupid?

I'm not rich, my parents are.

It's like living in a Tex Avery cartoon.

Live life before it lives you.

If you want them to know there is steak for dinner, you got to let them hear it sizzle! Understand?

You ruin my language and I still love you.

I think I'm gonna black out.

Why is he on the ground?

I am not going upstairs with you.

If you were my girl, you'd never cry for anything, except maybe for happiness.

I think tomorrow is a "Say Something" hat day.

Lets throw you a pity party.

You're gonna be second class and you're gonna be second rate your whole life.

Don't quote me but I think this one is decease-ed.

Actin' real proud of yourself just like a New York City girl.

I tell you where I'm going, I ain't going nowhere.

If I was your bread, would you be my butter?

#roleplay meme #rp meme #roleplay starters #sentence meme #sentence starters #rp starters #to wong foo thanks for everything julie newmar #starters: to wong foo

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hajimedics · 1 year ago

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On Puppets, Agency, and Fate

I’ve been writing this thinkpiece for around a week while looking further into Welcome Home’s symbolism through queer/neurodivergent lenses; strengthening my belief that its themes of freedom and fate cannot be separated from the struggles the characters face as queer/neurodivergent folks.

This writing is going to be a mix of canonical content and my personal interpretation as I make many connections to various readings. Not to mention that the story is very far from done according to the words of the creator himself, so please take the things I say with a grain of salt.

You can view this thinkpiece in Google Docs format here.

CW: mentions/discussions of homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and abuse

I've always adored explorations of humanity and their deteriorating, fluctuating psyche through characters constantly challenged by the narrative (example: Phos from Land of the L*strous, Kris from D*ltarune, Guts from B*rserk, Mae from N*ght in the W*ods) and how they struggle to find their place in the world and freedom. To progress, humanity has always desire freedom. Freedom of expression. Freedom to think. Freedom to honestly, unapologetically be who one wants to be. Humans and humanity are not always synonymous. Welcome Home is a case of this too, its ensemble cast consisting of puppets.

Clown has stated that themes of being queer/neurodivergent are very integral to the story in many aspects, from the characters to the metanarrative. I want to talk about the things I've noticed, the analogies they carry, and how every character's identity contributes to the themes or the story.

First off, the neighborhood.

The neighborhood in general

From the perspective of Welcome Home Puppet Show’s creators, the neighborhood is the idea of a perfect, idyllic community through the lens of cisheteronormavity from the 70s. It is something out of a children’s dream with the colorful imagery, the peaceful yet eventful neighborhood filled with fun activities where everyone in the neighborhood is happy and there are no realistic problems like capitalism, oppression, relationship problems, sickness, and death. Of course, it’s the given obvious because this is a puppet show we’re talking about. A show aimed at kids.

Everyone has a role to play in the neighborhood – the shopkeeper, the mailman, the baker, the bug nerd – they all fit the traditional, stereotypical, cartoonish American mold of what the dream urban life is like in the 70s (and it still is in my small hometown, in Indonesia! We’re quite traditional in a sense) especially with the lack of serious overarching threats of aforementioned human problems.

Welcome Home first aired on 1969 and abruptly ended on 1974. A possible theory is that they cannot keep up with the competitor shows at the time (Sesame Street started on 1969 and The Muppet Show started on 1974, fun fact!), but seeing the amount of merchandise they put out and the way it stood out from various angles, this theory can be thrown out the window. The “about” page for WHPS also describes the show as well acclaimed and doing well during its runtime.

Another one is that the sentience of the puppets (and their desire to have autonomy over their own lives) have possibly impacted the writing of the story, given how they have their own identity outside of the one given by WHPS’s writers to them. Even more when you take into consideration that WHPS is produced during the era when LGBT history in America is at a major turning point. As cited from The Atlantic:

“Those years that followed, the decade of the 1970s, represent a remarkable period of transformation for gays and lesbians, particularly those living in America's coastal cities. At its core, that transformation was about visibility. During those years, there was the first gay television movie (That Certain Summer); a sexy on-screen kiss between two men in Sunday, Blood Sunday; and the release of Cabaret, which has been hailed as the first movie that "really celebrated homosexuality.

There were gains in politics too: Edward Koch, then serving in Congress, "became one of the first elected officials to publicly lobby on behalf of the homosexuals of Greenwich Village," Kaiser writes. Gay Pride Week was established. Perhaps most significantly: In December of 1973, the board of the American Psychiatric Association* voted 13-0 "to remove homosexuality from its list of psychiatric disorders."

The laws that no longer criminalizes or dehumanizes queer folks are being written. Changes are made. Even when LGBT movement was going on a fairly optimistic path, oppression and bigotry towards the community was still rampant. After all, oppressors just can’t change their views in a whim! Their hatred comes from their own thoughts and not because the higher ups told them so.

I won’t turn this into a writing about queer history instead of focusing on Welcome Home. Though, I think it's all worth mentioning given the things I'm going to discuss here and how Clown stated that these themes will become prevalent throughout the story. I decide to write this thinkpiece as an outlet for my thoughts and how I connected many of the story's aspects to the themes of freedom – both from their status as puppets and their identity.

Now that the overview is out of the way, time to bring in the big guns.

The neighborhood and Playfellow Workshop

If we take Playfellow Workshop's involvement in the characters' lives outside of episode recordings, Welcome Home becomes a huge transgender allegory, wrapped in a neat colorful package called "being puppets whose view on the world is much more narrow and simple in which they are controlled by beings above their comprehension".

Playfellow Workshop is the company that creates WHPS and owns its characters. They act as the "parents" to the "children" – WHPS' characters – in this comparison. They house the characters, have them as their responsibilities and assets, and, as any show production goes, they most definitely have staff that takes care of the puppets to see if there are any rips or tears in their bodies, making sure they are fit for the show production. It's just like how parents house their children when they cannot afford housing or live on their own, taking care of (or rather monitor) them, giving them shelter and food.

They are controlled both literally and figuratively by Playfellow Workshop – former because they're hand puppets made for children's entertainment and latter because of their status binding them to their duties. Just like how a parent has authority over their children under the guise of “you live under my roof, you live under my rules.” The rules in questions are the episodes which are produced on story scripts, and the puppets follow said scripts.

Playfellow Workshop is extremely important to the puppets, whether the company is taking a positive role, a neutral role, or an antagonistic role. If the puppets were to break free from their grasp, who would take care of them? Who will place them onto their cases, or fix their rips and tears, or make sure they're in good shape? Playfellow Workshop may have taken a toll on the puppets, but no one can take care of the puppets better than Playfellow Workshop.

You might be wondering, “But Senja, this can be read as a typical controlling parent and clueless children dynamic. Why so specific about it being a trans experience?”

It can be read like the former! I made more connections and thus thought "Hm. This is so true to my trans experience".

There are multiple transgender characters in the story such as Frank, Poppy, and Julie. I was struggling on how to put my thoughts into words about the ways the producers of WHPS (could it be that they thought about the puppets not being cis?) can write in trans characters in WHPS, but I believe Clown himself and the wikipedia page for Gonzo from The Muppets said it best.

A similar case for the puppets can be applied to the trans characters of Welcome Home! Still, the way the puppets present themselves to the audience is also ultimately a decision made by Playfellow Workshop, especially during episode recordings. Clown also said that they won’t reveal much about it since he doesn’t want to give out spoilers. Perhaps regarding to the nature of Playfellow Workshop, too?

The puppets and the scripts can also be a stand-in for how trans folks who still live with authoritative adult figures (especially those that don't accept them or begrudgingly does) are handling autonomy over their own bodies and actions. Although not shown for now, I predict there’s going to be an eventual identity dissonance between who the puppets truly are and who the puppets are according to WHPS’ writers. It reminds me of my experience of when I was much younger, being a closeted trans person who often struggles with disassociation, looking into the mirror and feeling like me and my body are not one. Not myself. It's like they're two separate beings, "me" who is what I truly am, and "my body" that is dictated and dressed up by my parents. As much as I love my body, little me wanted to claw out and break free if it means I can have a semblance of independence over my life. (Things are much better these past few years, though!)

Again, I don’t like accusing Playfellow Workshop of purposefully mistreating the puppets or even taking pleasure in hurting them because we are just getting started; getting to know the personalities and character dynamics between each character. Authoritative parents won't exactly be abusive to their children. Maybe Playfellow Workshop is just doing their job. They take care of the puppets because if they're damaged, the show won't go on. They act indifferent towards the puppets because well, they're just puppets. No personal feelings. That's just how business goes.

We do know that Playfellow Workshop is a big problem regarding the WHPS’ cancellation and the puppets’ worrying fates.

Playfellow Workshop aside, what about the community regarding the puppets?

The neighborhood is a small town consisting of nine residents. Everyone knows each other, and it’s hard to keep secrets from one another with just how tight-knit everyone is; the experience of living in a small town rings true to mine. Almost everyone in my quaint hometown knows many details about each other and their families because our community strongly believes in the importance of bonds and our culture is built on the word "family".

The neighborhood is a family that does not fit the general criteria of what the traditional structure of a family is. There is no concrete "father" or "mother" or "siblings" assigned here – they're also not the typical found family where they meet one another by chance. They are placed inside the set by the creators of the WHPS, lives already decided by its writers (like a traditional family), but they find solace in each other, having their lives intertwined with one another through bonds that they also take part in building, even outside of the show's production (like a found family, as seen in the "answer" pages). They are friends. They are family. Not to mention how the neighborhood is called "Home", a place where a family lives.

But they also cannot get out – as in get out of WHPS instead of just the neighborhood. I will be covering connections to freedom for each character later on (Sally falling from the sky, Poppy as a flightless bird, Howdy as an adult caterpillar) but the way their existence is bound by the colorful stage sets and rainbow props can also be seen as a small analogy that traditional families are expected to always stick with each other no matter how bad things are.

Themes of family aside, I’ll talk about how the so-called “long lost and unknown of number” episodes. WHPS’ episodes start with Wally leading the viewers through the cacophony of the neighborhood. Then other characters join in, with many of them having notable activity segments. The episodes then end with Wally, who has finished journeying with the viewer, when the day has ended. It is most peculiar and harrowing that the agency of the puppets regarding the show is dependent on Wally and the time of the day. Wally plays the central figure of the story, first being placed in the position as the protagonist and most important character in WHPS, then having to act as their savior because he is the only puppet thus far that has contact with the restoration team and you, the viewer. He is akin to a child who has to take the lead as the head of the family even though he is not prepared for it.

Nobody remembers Welcome Home. Nobody remembers who the puppets are. At the time, the puppets only have themselves and each other to rely on for support. Then again, it’s not even clear if they are with each other when they went missing or scattered around.

Now that I've covered the connections I've made regarding the neighborhood as a whole, I’d like to analyze its residences one by one.

Wally Darling

Wally is a very complex character and by far the most – ironically – human out of everyone in the cast. The word "freedom" is written all over him and the word "love" is sewn into every inch of his body.

Wally is shown to show little to no interest in romance or dating. He allowed his friends to get touchy-feely with him (examples being sleeping with Barnaby and getting hugged by Eddie) and doesn’t hesitate to show his affections to them, but it’s been said that he never found them romantic. Wally’s lack of interest in romance gives me the impression that he is in the AroAce spectrum. Clown even mentioned that he doesn’t know what to do if someone confesses their love to him. Wally knows what romance is, he knows what romantic love is, he just doesn't see himself finding a partner anytime soon.

Wally's view on love not only ties into his queerness, but also his neurodiversity – his autism. He is not good at reading social cues or acting "as accordingly" to the situations presented to him. Clown also suggested that Wally cannot process emotions “the way humans do”. They also entertain the idea that Wally is “emotionless”; but I’d rather interpret it as Wally having low empathy and possibly alexithymia, traits shared by many autistic folks (including me).

He expresses his love in a way that accommodates his neurodiversity: real actions.

Wally has been shown from time to time as someone who absolutely, truly loves his friends. The way he loves others cannot be categorized into simple boxes such as “romantic” or “platonic” or “familial”. Wally loves his friends dearly and it is deep and true, simple as that. He also loves you, the viewer, and a hidden page in the Welcome Home page says that "Wally is your best friend". When he was communicating with you, it read to me more like fascination, curiosity, and cries of help instead of macabre obsession as I normally would expect in psychological stories such as Welcome Home.

All of this makes the struggles he faced after WHPS' cancellation and getting separated from his friends more tragic.

Having the world that he knows ripped away from him must've been traumatizing to him. The world that he has always known is gone. The people that he knew and met everyday are scattered everywhere. Although there are many image file names that suggest he has contact with some of his friends, he doesn’t know if everyone is fine. He’s now left to pick up the pieces and try to stick them back together. He has so much to think about, too much to think about, and so he decides to reach out to you.

When you take into consideration that autistic folks often rely on self-made sets of rules, Wally's situation turns from sad to depressing. Autistic folks rely on schedules and routines (also seen through Frank) to give them a sense of control over their lives and help them ground themselves in reality. When Wally's "routine" is ripped away from him, he has to immediately make sense of his situation and make himself accustomed to a life full of uncertainty. His adaptation to change isn't simply about comfort – it's about surviving. His struggles don't only stop there.

Wally's intentions are read wrongly, some people interpreting him as "creepy" or "malicious" instead of just "awkward" or "desperate". Interestingly, this flanderization and misconception of his character comes from the internet's view on him instead of from the audience/staff in-universe. His autistic traits that cannot be deemed "cute" enough (the way he stares, his mannerism, how he talks slowly, or his fixation on the viewer) is considered creepy in a way that appeals to the fandom and thus extrapolated into something more extreme; him being a lovesick obsessive love interest, him being a religious cult leader, or him being the overarching villain of the story. The way that people outside his universe are the ones demonizing him is poetic in a way – reflective of the world that we live in where ableism towards autistics are so embedded even in the way we view tragic characters with low empathy.

Maybe Wally’s mannerisms are written that way because it’s to add more mystery, but knowing that Clown likes to play with secrets and says that neurodivergency plays a huge part in the story makes me think it’s also the other way around. His behavior as an autistic and traumatized character is what makes people believe that he's the villain. It’s unintentional on his part, but people who fail to read between the lines can think otherwise. It reminds me that when autistic folks cannot express emotions "correctly” or act a certain way that is expected regarding certain social situations, neurotypicals immediately jump into bad, unsavory conclusions about their intentions.

In reality, Wally is a desperate person who just wants the viewer to know and realize his presence and (assumedly) save his friends. Sure, he isn't straightforward in his words when communicating to us through hidden audio files, but his intentions are getting more clear to me. He’s thrust into a situation where he now acts as the guardian for his friends instead of Playfellow Workshop. He wants to get in. He's not a saint. He's not a villain. He's a struggler.

Sally Starlet

Sally! Her name is a fun one. She’s a star. She’s also an actress/play writer, related to the phrase “star of the show”.

So far, Clown hasn’t confirmed anything regarding her sexuality or gender identity, but the interactions she has with other characters from various audio files gave me some clues.

Her interactions with male characters are comedic or bossy in a comical sense, definitely stays true to her bombastic personality. She's not particularly fond of having Barnaby or Howdy star in her plays – the former not taking it seriously while the latter advertising his products in the middle of her plays. She also likes bossing Eddie around as shown in Eddie's Big Lift and is entertained by his antics, from him calling her "ma'am" to him not being able to refuse any of her commands.

Sally is noticeably more mellow around women like Julie and Poppy, notably the latter. Despite getting tired of Julie messing up the script of her plays, she isn’t annoyed with her and thinks of her antics as amusing rather than annoying. She is also patient with Poppy, not getting deterred by her always worrying nature and talks to her calmly. She encourages her ideas, help her to be more confident in herself and is very supportive of her! Their personalities bounce off one another really well, and she is just so sweet. Sally also endearingly calls Julie “Juliet” and Poppy “dear” and “darling”, something she doesn’t do with the male characters.

She gives me the impression of being a lesbian. She reminds me a lot of Lady D from RE VIII who’s a canon lesbian, calls Evan “manthing”, and speaks/acts in the same sophisticated manner as Sally, haha!

Besides her queerness, I found an interesting connection to freedom from her backstory. Sally was originally a star from space that falls to earth in order to pursue her interest in acting. She fell from a place that is vast and endless to a place surrounded by trees and predetermined fates. Also her working with play scripts… the show running on episode scripts… hm…

A falling star has a close definition to a meteor, burning brightly due to the pressure but then losing its spark and mass during its journey, ultimately burning into nothingness. Possibly just a coincidence, but the symbolism when related to Sally is sad.

Frank Frankly

Amidst the cheerful technicolor citizens of the neighborhood, Frank stood out the most by having grey skin and a constant frown on his face. He’s the bookworm character archetype of the show and is described as “arguably the smartest person in the neighborhood”. He’s also one of the handful characters that doesn’t have any information regarding where he was before he came to the neighborhood.

Frank is autistic. As I’ve mentioned in Wally’s part of this thinkpiece, Frank relies on routines and familiarity to give himself a sense of agency and control over his life. He likes arranging things in the order they’re supposed to go, he has a keen eye on organization and structure, and he wants things to be done right in his own ways. “This is the way things should be done, not that way.”

There are drawings Clown made depicting him stimming and infodumping about his special interests, those being entomology and insects.

Frank and Julie are paired together in many Welcome Home-related content. They are best friends who does things together and spends time playing together. They perform a comedy duo; Frank is the "straight man" to Julie's "funny man". His friendship with Julie is very important to both the show and the overarching story. They are something more than simple friends, something less than lovers, and something just right and deep for the both of them. Not that Playfellow Workshop thinks much about that.

The animation cells for “Julie-rella” has given me a very thin theory that themes of cisheteronormavity will be at play as the story goes. Frank is the prince charming, while Julie is Cinderella – fated to be together when the story ends. Well, maybe it’s just Sally, being her over-the-top self and her reenacting a classic fairy tale with her personal spin, but I just can’t help but think harder about the implications of it. Frank is not a cishet man, and Julie is not a cishet woman. I have talked about it in this short writing I made about Eddie and Frank.

Frank is canonically nonbinary and gay. He and Eddie are each other's love interests, something that isn’t outright shown. One can argue that they don’t exactly “act” like a typical couple from what we’ve seen, and their interactions in WHPS’ audios and merchandises gives off the feeling that they’re amicable at best (referring to the link I embedded above). They are noticeably closer in the “answer” page, though. It is not certain that their relationship at the time WHPS was still going and before Welcome Home Restoration Project’s involvement was already established or they’re just starting to get to know each other – though many audios in the WHRP website leans more towards the latter. Either way, it reminds me of the way some queer people have to hide their relationships in public to avoid getting hate or persecution.

You know that one art of a terrified Frank with a bright red rectangle and many appendages surrounding him that can be found in the staff-only page? Regarding his status as the bookworm character, I have a feeling that the phrase “ignorance is bliss” will come at play here, subverting his character.

Poppy Partridge

This sweet, poor bird who is always shaken by everything around her. Poppy grew up in a nest with her family, though growing up to become the biggest bird out of everyone, eventually leaving the nest and moving into the neighborhood, living inside a barn and rarely leaving it because of her anxiety. Poppy is described to not be based on just one bird, as Clown said. She is said to be a mix of “flamingo from father’s side, hen from mother’s side”, fitting with how unique everyone is in the neighborhood.

It is heartwarming that she is surrounded by people who are understanding of her anxiety. Nobody makes fun of her fretfulness or forces her to be “more social”, Howdy brings her groceries to her barn, and she even has her own baking business! She’s not the greatest at the things she likes doing, but it’s nice to see that she founds joy in them.

Poppy is canonically a trans lesbian. She’s very close with Sally, whose personality is a stark contrast to hers. Poppy feels like she can trust Sally with handling the jobs she’s supposed to do and Sally encourages her to be more true to herself. Poppy feels at ease whenever she’s around Sally and even seems to act more flustered around her – a possible love interest between the two. It’s also cute that Sally likes to drag Poppy in her antics, with the latter not being too bothered about it. They trust each other very much. Also their dynamic is also just really good, y’know?

Connected to themes of freedom in this story, Poppy is a flightless bird, yet another symbol of her state of freedom as a puppet to Playfellow Workshop. Many birds have the ability to spread their wings and fly away to the places that they desire while Poppy cannot. Like the rest of the cast, her world is limited by the trees around the neighborhood. She also left her nest not because she has big dreams like Sally or ambitions like Howdy, but because of the circumstances she cannot control on her own.

As I’ve mentioned earlier, Poppy grew up to be the biggest bird out of her family and it became the reason why she left for the neighborhood. And when she got there, she prefers being inside her own barn instead of going around and socializing with everyone.

Howdy Pillar

Ohhh my god. This guy. He originates from an apple as a teensy little caterpillar, then leaving the place where he was raised in because of his dreams (similar to Sally, different to Poppy). He is shown to be very proud and confident in himself, having a clear ambition on opening his very own shop and takes great pride in what he does. He’s a great talker and can easily convince even the proudest people in the neighborhood to purchase his wares, and his character gives me the impression that he prefers being around people that understands his dreams.

I cannot find any notable queer readings regarding Howdy, but his interactions with Barnaby gives me the impression that they’re close to one another. Howdy considers Barnaby his favorite customer, and is seemingly happy that Barnaby is willing to listen to him ramble about his family gossips.

I do find connections between his physical appearance and the story’s themes of freedom.

In a caterpillar’s life, when they’re about to reach their adult stage and move on from their juvenile stage, they turn into butterflies. Not the case with Howdy. He’s an adult caterpillar whose family are a bunch of butterflies. Like Poppy, whose symbolism of lack of freedom is the same as Howdy's, he cannot turn into a butterfly and fly away from the grasp of Playfellow Workshop – outside the neighborhood, outside the town surrounded by colorful trees and dictated by scripts.

Unlike Poppy however, Clown mentioned that Howdy has the possibility of turning into a butterfly someday. Poppy is also an adult bird, the last stage of her life cycle, while Howdy is an adult caterpillar, the beginning stage of his life cycle. A possible foreshadowing for his fate regarding freedom later on…? Or maybe just a fun little trivia.

Barnaby B. Beagle

Barnaby, the comedic relief who's the most emotionally intelligent. The jokester who knows that something is amiss when the situation calls for it, the comedian who can be honest and straightforward in what he finds amusing and not, the humorist whose appearance is always met with cheers, claps, and boos, as if he’s the main character of a very long winded sitcom.

As far as I’ve noticed, there aren’t as many connections to themes of freedom regarding Barnaby as there is on other characters. Though I can say that Barnaby can stand his ground more than Eddie, another character who is usually put in situations where he gets the boot to the head and usually lets people do as they please. I cannot put these into concrete words, but Barnaby has an air of professionalism to him despite his character archetype being the comedic relief.

Barnaby is close with Howdy (see the writing regarding his character above!), sharing jokes and puns with him. Barnaby is also considered Howdy’s greatest customer, always making the latter crack up and their personalities bounce off one another really well.

Another resident that Barnaby shares a close bond with – closer even – is Wally. Barnaby is very close to Wally. They are best friends, and many art for Welcome Home depicts them together a lot of the time. Barnaby includes Wally in the things he does like getting hotdogs together or sharing jokes. Besides Home, Barnaby knows Wally the best. He is also quick to notice changes in Wally’s demeanor, getting concerned about him when he doesn’t react to his words the way Wally always does in the last “answer audio”.

Clown also said that in any universe, Barnaby and Wally will always become best friends. They are the definition of soulmates. Platonic, romantic, whatever you call it – but like I’ve said earlier, the puppets’ view on love are not as complicated as humans’, and I can say that they love each other deeply, simple and true as that. Like someone once said, they’ll find each other in any universe. This makes me fear for their relationship even more, given that Wally and Barnaby are most likely not near each other when WHPS ended.

Eddie Dear

Eddie! Neighborhood’s creative, kind, and hardworking mailman. He has a good eye on arts and craft, and is more than delighted to lead the viewers of the show with the things he wants to create.

As Clown have stated, Eddie is a gay man. I’ve covered most of the things I’ve said regarding their (blooming) romantic relationship in Frank’s section of this thinkpiece however, so I implore you to go back there if you don’t want me to rewrite the whole thing all over again here, haha!

A recurring trope with him is that despite his adherence to work ethics and schedules, Eddie tends to forget a lot of things. The Welcome Home website says that he hails from a town far away from the neighborhood, but he always gets the name of the town wrong and oftentimes mentions names of places that doesn’t exist. He talks to inanimate objects to aid his forgetfulness (also for endearing character traits) and Frank once suggested that he ties strings to the things he doesn’t want to forget, but this doesn’t always work. Eddie also doesn’t remember where he came from and his character profile says that he and the post office appeared out of nowhere one day.

Eddie is also accident-prone, always getting himself into situations (a bug landing on his paper chains, getting chased by Barnaby) and is mainly depicted as the unwilling comedian. Many of his character aspects are depicted as a source of comedy, even by himself. Eddie also has tendencies of prioritizing what others want before himself because of his even-tempered nature. So far, Eddie doesn’t express any serious frustration over this, but with the themes of agency recurring in this story, I’m afraid that it’s going to be a matter of time before we see Eddie express discomfort over this.

Throwback to what I have said: Frank is a smart person who constantly searches for logical answers to things, while Eddie is more laid back and isn’t very focused on finding the right answer and just wanting problems to be handled. This contrast on their personalities and how their backstories are foils of each other (Frank coming from unclear origins, Eddie not knowing the name of the place he’s from) make me think: Is ignorance bliss to Eddie?

Julie Joyful

The sunshine of the neighborhood! The bringer of rainbows in Welcome Home! Julie stays true to her surname, always depicted with a bright smile on her face. She is the one that can turn Frank’s frown upside down. She is the one that can bring a tinge of comedy in Sally’s tragic dramas.

Julie joins the side of the neighborhood that has clear origins. She once lived inside a cave with her siblings, but ultimately leaves under her own volition to find life for herself. Regardless, she is a character that is known for her constant interactions with other neighbors, notably Frank, her best friend.

Her friendship with Frank is extremely special for both of them – if you want to read about it, you should go to Frank's section of this thinkpiece as I've covered most of my thoughts about Frank and Julie's friendship there, but I want to add a few more things.

She is the "funny man" to Frank's "straight man", forming the neighborhood’s comedic duo. She drags him into her shenanigans, like the time they played “Business Woman In The Big City”. They’re also quite competitive when participating in the games that Julie conducts. She brings out the best in Frank, always making sure he feels included and happy in any activity they do. Julie is the “spontaneity” to Frank’s “routinity”. Julie is the “fun” to Frank’s “frown”. They’re inseparable from one another, like Barnaby with Wally.

As stated by Clown, Julie is genderfluid and bisexual. She doesn’t have a love interest set for her, but what’s important is that her character is emphasized with her connections with others. When Frank couldn’t play with her, she plays with Sally and enjoys spending time with her and even stars as the main character in many of the latter’s plays. There are lots of love inside her, after all! She is also said to be quite touchy with her friends, often hugging them and encouraging them to go through with the things they want to do. It doesn’t always have to be seen as “romantic”, like I’ve said before.

Onto her status as a puppet for Playfellow Workshop. Something funny is that Julie has a tendency to go off-script as shown from her interaction with Sally while practicing for a play. She has issues getting into the mood of her plays, making scenes that are supposed to be emotional… comedical, instead.

Is this supposed to symbolize something further? Is this habit of hers pointing towards how she’s going to express her unwillingness to be a mere cog in the big machine? The puppets are very much sentient, but I am not sure if they are aware if their actions in the WHPS episodes are controlled by the script. Time will tell, and perhaps, Julie too.

Home

Finally, we get to the last but one of the most important characters in this story – Home.

Home is the ninth residence of the neighborhood, though it’s not a puppet but a stationery character. It houses Wally, the main character of this story. Unlike the rest of the cast, Home talks in onomatopeias, like creaking its doors or opening its windows to produce sound as means of communication. Its eyes are very expressive and is constantly moving. Unlike other houses in the neighborhood, they’re very expressive.

Their importance isn’t only limited to being Wally’s house or being the only character in Welcome Home that cannot walk or talk.

The mobile characters of Welcome Home never expressed annoyance for Home’s non-verbal trait and instead put in effort to understand them and include them in their activities. They accommodate for Home, making sure they feel comfortable, wanted, and not left out. Home feels… at home around them.

Wally writes for Home to help it communicate and makes his canvas face Home whenever he’s painting, Julie teaches it how to hula hoop, Eddie makes small talk with Home, Barnaby makes jokes and laughs with Home, Frank tries to include home in games of chess, and so on! Home isn’t just a building like the rest of the cast’s houses. They are part of the family. It makes me so happy to see that their existence isn’t considered a burden or an annoyance or have their traits be seen as sources of comedy. It hits close to home for me as a physically disabled person.

Regarding the overarching story outside of WHPS, Home is a character that plays a significant part in Wally's journey. Wally loves Home dearly. He takes care of Home and makes sure he is in great condition. He is the caretaker for Home and becomes its communicator when the situation calls for it. In return, Home makes sure Wally is safe and sound inside their cavity and expresses their love for Wally through communication from creaking noises and even lightly squishing him between their door and door frame. Home is also quick to notice changes in Wally’s behavior and shows their concern for him, signifying just how deep their relationship is.

As I’ve mentioned many times before, their closeness cannot be boxed into the usual types of love humans are used to. You just know they are extremely linked to one another and that their relationship is not only important in WHPS, but also the story as a whole.

Home and Wally are inseparable from one another. They have their separate personalities and are distinguishable from one another, but ultimately they will always be one. Home is Wally’s fortress. Home is the shield to Wally’s sword. Home is the pericardium to Wally’s heart. After all, “Home is where the heart is”, right?

Afterwords

Yay! Whew! Congrats on making it to the afterwords! I’ve spent more than a week writing this whole thing and having my friend @rxveriecaeli proofread this thinkpiece (Morfe if you’re reading this I love you bestie). Huge HUGE shoutout to them because I’d be lost without them giving the finishing touches!

I know, some people will say that I’m reaching or thinking too much about this story, but hey! That’s why it’s called a thinkpiece and not a theory or concrete proof of X or Y. I cannot say that I’m 100% sure about where the story is heading or what Clown has in mind for certain characters, but I just want to think and love making connections and my brain just keeps producing questions after questions after questions. Are the feelings they have with each other theirs and not the byproduct of the script commanding them? I believe so.

What if Poppy is a flightless bird because she's based on Big Bird and not because it's an analogy for her not being able to fly freely away? What if Howdy is an adult caterpillar because he just IS and not because it's an analogy for not being able to turn into a butterfly that can fly? These options might be so, but even if Clown someday confirm that their design choices are simply because they're inspired by other puppet characters, I'm just happy that I manage to find symbolism that I can connect to their character designs.

I think it's too early to assume that the puppets are surely seeking freedom. At most, they just want to be saved from the tragic states they’re in, and Wally is on the lead. I mean, the show's canceled and they no longer live by following the scripts made for them! We don't even know the true fates of them aside from being nearly forgotten to time. And even if the puppets do achieve freedom, what will be of them? The producers aren't around anymore, the employees that treat them as toys but also take care of them aren't there anymore, and they have to fend for themselves in the big world.

I am not a native English speaker and I cannot put some of my thoughts into words both because of my language barrier and my ADHD. I do not intend on expressing malicious or harmful subtext through this writing, but do tell me if I had worded anything incorrectly and I will fix it. I would love to hear your thoughts about this thinkpiece too, so don’t hesitate to leave comments or tags in the reblogs (though please be patient with me!). Not that I will tolerate hateful or bigoted comments, however!

Please do not start accusing me of spreading the rhetoric that “being queer/neurodivergent is painful and constantly suffering and if you don’t suffer you are not part of those groups”! Being queer is fun and liberating. Being neurodivergent or disabled is something to take pride in. I’m proud of who I am and I encourage others to be so too. The experiences of queer/neurodivergent won’t always be easy, though, and I made this analysis and the correlating connections based on my own experience as a queer, autistic, and physically disabled person.

That being said, thank you for reading!

Fun little trivia! The characters' favorite colors form a rainbow when put in respective order, just like the colors of the original pride flag :]

#LONG POST AHEAD!!!#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #wally darling #sally starlet #frank frankly #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #barnaby b beagle #eddie dear #julie joyful #home #senja writing

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