#expect more of these in the future i have

[bananayuyu]

Come to Mine

Pairing: idol!Yunho x backup dancer!reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 6.3k

Summary: You didn't plan for it to be this way. You just couldn't help being attracted to each other.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, safe sex (condom woo), it's very sweet and clumsy

A/n: This was such self indulgence, I hope you enjoy if you read <3 I can't believe the comeback is tonight! I hope everyone is having a good day <33 (sorry for any typos, I didn't feel like editing today)

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You couldn't believe your eyes when you received the email.

Congratulations, you've been selected as one of the dancers for Ateez's upcoming comeback. Rehearsals start next Monday, August 2nd. Please look out for our next message, which will contain the full schedule with dates and locations. We look forward to working with you!

You'd worked with several other Kpop groups over the last few years. You'd actually made it as a dancer, much to the surprise of your family. You'd like to say you were surprised too, but in truth you weren't. You had felt it in your bones that this is what you were meant to do and would be doing, ever since you first watched a Girl's Generation MV on your shitty middle school laptop.

Working with Ateez felt like the absolute pinnacle. You were only several years in, but you knew from hearing the chatter, from watching their performances, that backup dancing for them was a true honor, and a challenge. You'd gone to the audition with an open mind, not riding on the fact that you'd be selected. They told you all they wanted twelve girls total, a smaller number than you'd expected. And most of the girls you went with were more experienced, or had major connections within the industry, so it really was a shock you were selected. It made your whole body buzz, your confidence skyrocketing. If they believed you could hang with the best of the best, you'd do everything you could to prove them right.

Sitting on the hardwood floor at the end of your first rehearsal, it all just felt right. The group was working together so well already; most of these girls you'd danced with before, and you realized looking around that if you'd ever had the chance to select a dance team yourself, you would have made almost the same selections they did. Everyone was a dance nerd, a true artist, focused, dedicated. Everyone took good care of themselves, was smart, driven, and so hardworking. You all spoke amongst yourselves after rehearsal, anticipating your first rehearsal with the boys, wondering what they'd really be like in person. You'd all followed them closely for years, and were all big fans. You couldn't not be, given just how talented they were, just how dedicated to their craft, the same way you were. But you all vowed to be as respectful as possible, and keep the giggling and ogling to yourselves when the time came.

It was comeback season for them, their schedules incredibly full. The next album was almost entirely finished already though, and you had no doubt they were already beginning work on songs that would make future albums too. It was still six months until the comeback you'd be performing in, the time feeling indescribably far away. Many of the other girls, like you, still had smaller projects to work on in the meantime. This was the beginning of a long journey, one that would begin slowly. It was high pressure, you could feel it. You needed your absolute best to show here, for the sake of your career.

You'd never have guessed how it would feel finally meeting them all.

Sweaty and exhausted, they all came in after their final music show performance. They'd been up since the early hours of the morning to film, and now it was closer to midday. You'd slept in, spending the morning stretching and readying your body for this important rehearsal. In hindsight you hadn't needed to, the first day with the members being more of a meeting, followed by an attempt to brainstorm what formations would be possible with the twenty of you. Then you each had to introduce yourselves, going down the line of twelve, each repeating your names and where you were from.

After saying your name, after bowing, your eyes caught on Yunho's. And in that moment you knew it was all over.

All you could think in that moment was, 'fuck, I don't need this.' Truly, you didn't. There was too much else to focus on. Life had been hectic for so many reasons, but now you were just trying to focus on being present, there for your friends and family, focused on your work. You'd been single for almost two years now, and it had been the best time of your life. The time with your friends had been beautiful, fulfilling, peaceful. The success you'd had with dancing had been all you could have dreamed of. But you knew in that moment that something was about to change, something you doubted you could put any stop to. It felt written in the stars, like it was meant to happen. It had to. You could tell.

He'd noticed you right away. You were the shortest of the girls selected; they'd skewed more towards choosing taller girls, so that the height differences wouldn't be too severe. You weren't tiny, but still he'd noticed right away that you were shorter than everyone else. Your big glasses, your messy wavy hair, your baggy sweat pants. You stood out amongst the rest of the girls, but not because you were flashy. You were almost too relaxed in your appearance. He loved it instantly. And he could tell it affected you when he looked your way, your eyes darting fast to the floor when he pierced you with his gaze.

He watched you intently over the next few rehearsals, seeing immediately how talented you were. You picked up everything with such ease; but you weren't cocky, weren't throwing it in anyone's face. You helped other girls when they needed it, and you spoke up when an instruction wasn't clear, helping the main choreographer realize their mistake. You were quiet, mostly, except when you needed to be loud. You seemed so put together, almost boringly so. Some of the other girls were chaotic, which made the boys or other dancers gossip. But as Yunho listened to it all he realized none of them really mentioned you. From the outside in you seemed unassuming, and he knew people thought the same thing about him. So he knew that just like him, there was something more under the surface. Something juicier, freakier, stranger. Every time he looked you right in the eyes, the few times you'd let him, he could see it written in your pupils. And the way you always looked way, like you'd just had the wind knocked out of you, made him think he was probably right.

It really didn't help that he was such a good dancer, so confident and technically gifted, with a certain quality to his movement that you could not put into words. You became mesmerized from the first moment you saw it in person. You'd been impressed with his dancing abilities for a while, but seeing it in person in front of you, seeing his massive tall body move with a level of control that should not have been possible, had you completely entranced. You couldn't help the giddiness you felt when heading to work, the excited texts sent to your best friend. Your crush was forming fast, threatening to inflate inside of you and make you float away. He was all you could think about when you laid in bed at night, awaiting the next time you'd get to be in his presence, and say the few words you did to each other.

Then one day, it changed.

"Y/n, could I go over the middle section with you?"

His voice came from behind you, as you carefully retied your shoes during a break in rehearsal.

"With me?" you asked, turning around to find him standing behind you.

"Yeah, I've been watching everyone in the mirror and you seem to know that section best. I missed that rehearsal where we first learned it, so I think I'm missing the timing a bit." He reached out a hand to help you up, and you took it automatically, the touch between you sending adrenaline through your heart and making you shiver.

"I think you've been doing it just fine. What part is confusing?" you asked.

"I'm wondering when the arms come up, when we're turning around. Is it on one, or the and of one?"

"It's on the and. Here, do you want to do it slowly together?" You couldn't believe the words were tumbling out of your mouth, so naturally from your years of helping assist dance classes at your high school.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Yunho replied, getting in position beside you. You began counting slowly, you both dancing crudely through the counts, reaching the confusing section with hesitation. "See, one and," you threw your arms up, spinning around and turning your back to the mirror, your hands coming out beside you. "They're not back down until the and of 2."

"Ah, that makes sense. So they're delayed compared to the shifting of our feet there," he said, and you nodded in agreement, watching him step through the moves himself, flawlessly.

"Yeah, that's perfect," you smiled at him.

"Thank you, that was really helpful. I'm worried I'm messing things up cause I missed that rehearsal," he smiled back, arms locked behind his back. It looked like he was nervous, to you, which endeared you even more to him.

"Your dancing looks perfect to me," you said, standing still and awkward, your nervousness also showing.

You both stood staring at each other, and this time you didn't flick your eyes away. It all felt like things were clicking into place, and any feeling you had to resist this little thing was all gone. Not that there really was much to begin with. But you were nervous at first, so unsure of his interest. You couldn't bring yourself to assume that someone like him would want to be friends with someone like you. You had to wait for the confirmation from him.

Easy conversation followed the next few rehearsals. Talking about the choreography was always an easy in, and Yunho took to using it as much as he pleased. He complimented your dance skills more than you thought he should, because you worried the other dancers would find it strange or have something to say about it. But no one said a word to you. You felt this thing happening, the two of you magnets pulled together, but it seemed like no one around you had any clue. It was normal enough for him to want to talk to a dancer about the routine, and so what if in those conversations things turned more personal, more jokey, more flirtatious. He complimented your glasses early on, you remember that, and it stuck with you for weeks. You couldn't get it out of your head, the way his head tilted to the side when he said it. His tone of voice, the look in his eye.

Then there was the rehearsal in the gymnasium. You were all sectioned off, the main focus of the day being how the background sets for the MV would fit around the group of you dancing. The director was there, talking with all of ateez and the head choreographer, as they all stood around on the floor. The rest of you were told to wait in the stands, as they set the exact measurements of the set pieces, needing you all on stand-by at a moments notice. It was times like this you realized just how big the budget they had was; they were paying you all to be here today, even though most of the day you spent just sitting there, your fellow dancer sitting next to you almost falling asleep on your shoulder three separate times.

He saw you as soon as you came in, your hair up in a messy bun, your hoodie swallowing you. Your socks didn't match, your shoe laces partially untied. You pushed your glasses up your nose as you stepped inside, nearly bumping into the girl in front of you. Unassuming. Clumsy. For some reason, everything he wanted.

He craned his neck to watch you sit down, waving when you finally looked in his direction. You waved back, the sleeve of your hoodie pulled over your hand. He stood amongst his members, wishing he could somehow say something to you. Everyone was discussing the slight differences in the placement of something, but he'd stopped listening as soon as he saw you enter, so he really wasn't sure what it was. He reached for his phone, wanting to shoot you off a quick text. But then he remembered, the managers had taken them today so the boys would be focused. Also, he still didn't have your number. He knew he needed to remedy that problem as quickly as he could.

You zoned out for a moment, everyone around you buried deep in their phones as soon as they realized they'd be stuck in the bleachers for a bit. But it didn't take long for your gaze to sweep back down, settling on the person you couldn't keep your mind off of. You were met with a surprise, holding a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

Yunho was holding up a piece of paper in your direction, the word HI written in big bold letters. You weren't even sure where he got the paper from, much less the marker, but god did it make your heart constrict. How fucking adorable, how totally and completely cheesy. You were like Taylor Swift and her crush in 'You Belong With Me,' holding out written signs to each other and reading them through the window. Well, you could have been, if you had any paper of your own. You smiled, his action absolutely heartwarming, but you couldn't help feeling terribly disappointed that you couldn't reciprocate the gesture. That was until you remembered the back of your hoodie had the word HELLO written across it, right above the smiling sunflower. You held your hand out to him, beckoning him to wait a moment, as you turned and lifted up the hood to make sure he could see the white letters, that you hoped contrasted enough against the blue fabric that he could see them from so far away.

You turned to find him smiling, his shoulders jumping for a moment like he was laughing. It was just far enough away that you couldn't hear well, so you had no idea if he really was. The moment passed, and your heart was beating remarkably fast, but yet again it seemed like no one around you noticed. You blinked around, looking over your shoulder at your fellow dancers. Right then it hit you, that maybe you shouldn't be so openly doing this, whatever this was. You'd been warned time and time again that being involved with an idol was bad news, that plenty of dancers had done it and payed the price. One of your favorite fellow dancers had dated an idol, and you'd heard her horror story before over drinks one night. You knew people had complicated feelings on the subject.

But you also knew your own feelings weren't so complicated, at least when it came to him. Finally you all were beckoned down to the floor, the sets put in place. You all danced in front of them, the director trying out his camera movements, asking you to repeat certain sections so he could try different angles, see how the composition would look with so many bodies in the shot. You'd said hello to each other when you came down, but quickly you had to get to work, everyone's focus held on your dancing. It wasn't until you all wrapped up for the day that he said anything else.

"Hey, I've been meaning to get your number so we can text if we need to, like today," he said. Your stomach dropped; you couldn't believe the words you were hearing. Was he really asking for your number, here in front of everyone?

"Yeah, that would be great," you smiled, waiting for him to pull out his phone and hand it to you.

"My manager has my phone, do you have yours?" he asked.

"Uh, it's up in stands with the rest of my stuff. I'll have to go grab it," you responded, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah, no worries-"

"Everyone we need to clear out, we're supposed to be gone in five minutes! Let's get going!" the lead choreographer cut him off, calling out to the whole room.

"Yunho, I've got your bag, and the car is out front, we need to leave now," his manager came running up, placing a hand on his shoulder. You didn't know where he was headed, but it was probably another rehearsal, or interview, or photoshoot. One of the thousands of things they all had scheduled every week.

In the chaos you scrambled up the stairs, grabbing your stuff before dashing out the door, not wanting to get in trouble. Yunho waved to you from the car, it pulling away as soon as you exited the building and started your walk to the subway station. It had all happened so fast, and you hoped he didn't think that you'd forgotten. His question stuck in your mind over the next three days, until you had rehearsal again. And that time you walked in with your phone already open, pulled up to a new contact entry. You didn't even greet him that day; you just placed your phone in his hands, and looked up at him with big eyes. He blinked a moment, but it wasn't hard for him to know what you were asking. He put in his number, handing the phone back to you, and you sent off your first text of many.

🌸: hello :)

You waited that night after rehearsal, meeting up with your best friend for dinner. You could just feel it again, you knew he'd say something, if you had just a little patience.

🐶: I hope rehearsal didn't kill you today. They really didn't give you guys any breaks :(

Immediately you squealed, shoving your phone into your friend's face.

"How cute, he's so concerned for you," she laughed, poking your cheek.

"I can't believe he already texted," you sighed, grabbing another bite.

"He obviously likes you," she said, making your mind spin.

"Don't say that, you're getting my hopes up," you replied, shaking your head.

"Why else would he ask for your number?" she asked.

"To talk to me about work stuff, dance stuff, I don't know?" you replied.

"Did he ask for anyone else's number?" she asked.

"I don't know, he could have," you said, raising your shoulders.

"I doubt it," she smiled. "Look at you, you've caught yourself an idol. Better be careful, my girl," she joked, finishing off her drink.

"I wonder if this is a bad idea," you pondered, staring off into space and letting your mind wander.

"Don't overthink it. How often do you come across people you like? If he likes you two, you should go for it. You don't have any reason to hold yourself back from this. I mean, be careful of course. I don't want any death threats coming your way," she chuckled, reaching over the table and grabbing your hand. "Connecting with another person is a special thing, and it sounds like you two really have. Don't under sell that."

You left the restaurant and wandered home, a warm feeling in your chest. Hugging your friend goodbye you thanked her, so grateful to have someone you know you can tell anything to. As soon as you made it home, you pulled out your phone and responded to him.

🌸: It was fine, I just got very sweaty. my hair was a frizzy mess 🐶: you still looked so pretty 🌸: you are very sweet to me 🌸: why is that 🐶: I like you, that's why 🌸: you like me? 🐶: I want to see you outside of work 🌸: I want that too

You breath caught in your throat. It was everything you could have hoped to hear and more.

🌸: how can we do that tho 🐶: we'll find a way 🌸: you could come to my place. it's very small. I live alone

He could have guessed that was the case. You never mentioned having roommates, or parents, or anyone else you lived with in the brief conversations you'd had.

🐶: can I come this Saturday? 🌸: okay :) 🐶: are you sure? 🌸: be here at 7 🐶: will do

You had two days of filming for a different group's music video, a huge group dance with nearly fifty dancers. You be finishing it up Saturday morning, and hoped that things ran on time. You wanted to have the time to get yourself ready, take a shower, pick out your clothes. Even though you'd just be at home, surely just lounging around. You wanted to wear your favorite sweats, and the black tank top you had that sat perfectly over your figure. You two wouldn't be going on dinner dates out, or to the bar for drinks, or to the cafe or farmer's market or any other place where Yunho could be spotted. He didn't have to explain that to you; you'd worked in this industry long enough to understand. He'd have to do everything he could to avoid being seen entering your building. If this did become a romance, it would be one conducted in the privacy of bedrooms, apartments, hotels. You couldn't walk out on the street holding hands, or even just walk down the street side by side. But then you reminded yourself of the if. You still didn't know what he wanted, exactly. You'd still never been in the same room just the two of you. The nerves gnawed at you as you showered, as you carefully set out the clothes you would wear as you dried your hair. You'd wear no bra with your tank top, you decided, and you'd wear your favorite bikini cut black underwear. You didn't like lacy thongs, you didn't like most women's clothing period. But you wanted to feel sexy when he arrived, wanted it to be clear to him what you were after.

🐶: I'm heading out now, I should be there in 17 minutes, according to google maps 🌸: see you soon :)

Your adrenaline surged, your body sweating despite the cool temperature of your tiny apartment. You scrambled around, cleaning every surface one time over again, making sure your dirty clothes were tucked away in your closet and not strewn about anywhere. You gave yourself a final look in the mirror, your glasses looking comically huge on your face. Your hair was a mess, but it always was. You'd never learned how to properly take care of your waves. The black tank top looked as good as you'd hoped though, so you shrugged. It was good enough.

You'd only sat on your couch for about thirty seconds when the doorbell rang, and you physically jumped. Opening your door you found him in a loose button up shirt, casual baggy pants, a baseball cap covering his nut brown hair, and a mask.

"Hi, come in," you said, your heart beating faster than it did even during your most difficult dance numbers.

"Thank you," he said, stepping inside, his jacket held over his arm. He pulled off his mask, folding it and shoving it in his pocket.

"Would you like some water?" you asked, awkwardly. You didn't know what to say, the two of you standing feet apart in your tiny living room.

"Sure, that'd be great," he said, looking around, taking everything in.

"You can sit on my couch, or on the floor, if you'd like. Sorry there aren't more options, my apartment is tiny," you said as you filled his glass. You decided to fill one for yourself, realizing now that you'd completely forgotten to eat dinner or drink any water this afternoon because of your nerves.

"It's perfect. I really like it," he said, sitting himself down cross legged on the floor, on the small rug that surrounded your coffee table. It was the only table you had here, the one you always ate your meals at. "Is this the rug you always lay on at night?" he asked as you came and set his water in front of him.

"Oh, no, that one's in my room," you smiled, sitting opposite him on your couch, cross legged too.

"I was gonna say, this is pretty small for laying on," he laughed.

"My other one is small too, I guess," you laugh in response.

"Can I see it?" His eyes have a mischievous glint to them as they meet yours.

"Sure," you say, smirking back at him. You're trying to put on a confident front, because you swear you keep seeing his eyes trail down your body hungrily, but as soon as you start walking towards your room your legs are shaky. Yunho reaches out and grabs your shoulder from behind, steadying you for a moment.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, just tired. Filming ran long this morning, we had to go over this one section like fifty times. I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you say.

"Do you have a foam roller? It's helps me a lot when my legs are cramping up on me," he says, as you open your bedroom door, revealing the tiny room to him. It only has room for your full bed, your dresser shoved into your closet.

"I should really get one," you say, turning to face him. "There's the rug," you smile, watching intently to see his reaction.

"That's the one you lay on every night?" he asks. You nod your head, chuckling. "That's even smaller than the one out there," he laughs, pointing in the direction of your living room.

"I wonder if you'd even fit," you laugh, looking down at the small strip of floor that isn't taken up by your bed frame.

"Let me try," he says, kicking off his shoes and setting them on your shoe rack outside your door. He crouches down, settling himself on his side, his legs bent up to make it possible for him to fit.

"Wow, so comfortable," he quips, sarcastically.

"It is if your my size," you pout, looking down at him with your arms crossed.

"You really lay here every night before bed?" he asks.

"It's my favorite spot in the world," you nod.

"You think we could both fit?" he asks, pulling off his hat and tossing it on your bed, holding out an arm to you.

"Maybe..." you trail off, stepping over towards him, carefully setting yourself down in front of him. You're on you side too, your face maybe a foot from his, your back shoved up against your closet door. You stare into each other's eyes, still not having touched, the whole scene potentially still friendly and innocent.

A yawn hits you, a wave of exhaustion washing over your whole body. You really should have remembered to eat a good meal before this.

"Tired?" Yunho asks, you his eyes not leaving yours.

"I guess so. Sorry for yawning," you say.

"Am I boring you?" he jokes.

"No, not at all," you shake your head, smiling back at him. And then you both just stare, a good minute passing, your heart racing and racing in your chest, your body aching for something, anything.

"Can I kiss you now?" he asks, but still doesn't move. So you do instead, pulling yourself closet to him, your legs entangling as your lips finally meet, the first moments of the kiss awkward and stilted in that way it always is with a new person. But soon enough you've found each other's rhythm; you can tell he likes sucking on your bottom lip, and likes it when you open your mouth and let out those breathy moans, allowing him to dive his tongue inside, feeling over the plush softness of your tongue. It's heated so quickly, your arms desperately grabbing at each other, a sexual excitement awakened in you in a way it hadn't been in so many years. You got lost in it; you couldn't have even remembered your own name in that moment, because all you knew was his mouth and his hands, his tongue on your neck, the way your clit felt rubbing hard against his thigh, your climax reaching you so fast you don't even realize it until your hands are cramping up. They do that when you're too stimulated, when your whole nervous system has too much input and can't process it all. He senses a change in you, pulling back to see you holding your hands, trying desperately to calm the spasming muscles.

"What's wrong?" he asks, gently holding your hands in his own.

"It just happens sometimes, when I come," you whisper into the cool air of your bedroom. "My hands lock up like this." You start to giggle, a blush creeping over your face at the look he's giving you.

"You came?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm insanely sensitive," you laugh, still rubbing at your hands.

"Fuck," he groans, shaking his head back and forth, and you laugh again at how affected he is. "Are your hands going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just give them a moment. They'll be fine," you say, putting your face up to his again, your lips connecting and fire shooting through you once again.

Before you know it he's on top of you, kissing you hard, his hands snaking underneath your top to feel over your hard nipples, grabbing hungrily at your body. "Can I taste you?" he whispers through ragged breaths, and you nod into him, whispering yes on his lips. He moves down, pulling at the waistband of your sweatpants, and you lips your hips to help him. When he grabs at your panties he drags them off slowly, shoving them in the pocket of his jeans, moving his mouth down your thighs and licking up to your core. He swipes his tongue up your slit slowly, giving firm pressure to his movement, making you moan and arch your back in response, your knees falling wide and hitting the wall and bed you're caged between. Yunho hums at the taste of you, the heady sweetness better than he could have even imagined, his tongue swiping again and again up your entire slit, taking in as much of you as he can.

"Fuck you taste good," he whispers, before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking gently and making you squirm, your knees jumping up to cage in his head. Then he's adding a finger, and then another, slowly pumping them into you while he keeps sucking on your sensitive bud, ripping another orgasm out of you in seconds. He keeps touching you through your after shocks, making your moans high pitched and sharp as you feel overstimulated, but then as he keeps going you slip back into pleasure, and another orgasm builds faster than the first.

"Fuck, fuck," you scream, your hand in his hair, snaking through and grabbing hard onto it. It makes Yunho moan, the vibrations radiating through your core and sending you over the edge once again, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. This time you push him up, your body wracked from coming so hard and fast.

"You can come multiple times," he states, his lips and chin glistening from your slick. You just nod coyly, breathing hard, trying to regain your sanity as he moves on top of you again, kissing you hard. You moan at the taste of yourself, and at the way he's smothering you so entirely. "You like how you taste?" he asks, smiling into you as you nod your head yes, your lips not able to leave each other for more than a few seconds.

"Can I fuck you?" he asks into your ear, his low voice shuddering through you.

"Please," you whisper, grabbing at his pants to help push them down, laughing as he tries to stand and bumps his head on the door handle to your closet.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, holding his head for a moment, scrambling still to pull of his pants and finally get to what he's wanted all night. "You're making me so desperate that I'm hurting myself," he jokes, slipping a condom over himself with finesse, finally collapsing back onto you, rubbing his hard dick up and down your slit, attaching his lips to yours once again. Slowly he pushes in, testing the waters, watching your face as he stretches you out. He's loving your reaction, the way that just him putting his cock in you is making you so overwhelmed with feelings and pleasure.

"You're so big," you cry into his shoulder, grasping onto him for dear life.

"I know," he chuckles, his face in your hair, taking in the scent of you.

"Shut up," you giggle, hitting his shoulder playfully, holding back a moan from ripping out of you. He's just barely bottomed out, holding tight onto your hips to anchor himself.

"You okay?" he whispers, placing gentle kisses on your forehead temple, keeping himself still until you give him the okay. You nod against him, your face still buried in his shoulder, holding him to you.

"Please move Yunho," you beg, your body needing more from him now, even if the stretch is hurting. He slowly pulls himself out, pushing back in with care, the wet sounds loud and embarrassing. You're so wet it's starting to drip down your leg, and he slides in so easily, even though you're tight against him.

"Does that feel good?" he asks you, setting a slow pace, watching your body intently. You babble and nod against him, and he picks his pace up, hitting something so deep inside of you that it makes you head fly back against the ground again. Thankfully your rug is there on the floor, but it isn't the thickest, and the actions till hurts.

"Ow," you mutter, your eyebrows scrunching up in pain.

"Careful, careful," he coos, grabbing the back of your head in his large palm, slowing his movements. "Why are we on the floor when your bed is right there?"

You chuckle, blinking up at him with blown pupils, your walls still clenching hard around him.

"Let's move up there," he smiles, slowly pulling out of you, standing gingerly and helping you up carefully, too. You pull at his shirt, unbuttoning some of his buttons, making him pull if off over his head. He's completely revealed to you now, and he grabs at your top too, pulling it over your head and throwing it over the side of the bed.

"Your head okay?" he asks, moving on top of you again, cradling it in his hand.

"Yeah, it's okay," you laugh, staring up at him. "How's yours?"

"It's fine," he chuckles, kissing you deeply and grabbing at you, unable to stop himself. "You're driving me crazy," he whispers, and in a moment he's sheathed himself inside of you again, resting your head against your pillows as he starts fucking you hard, his mouth on yours as your tongues swirl around each other's mouths. He's hitting that spot inside you again, over and over sending waves of pleasure through your abdomen. You feel like you're being split open, like your entire body is filled by him, by everything he's meaning to you. The care, the attention, the perfect angle of his hips as they snap against yours, has your mind floating on a cloud of pure joy. God, it's never felt this good, and you don't want it to stop, don't ever want this feeling to end. You know you're stuck now, you're addicted, you've had one taste of him and you'll never want anyone else.

"Yunho," you whine against his lips, as you feel another orgasm building.

"Fuck, don't say my name like that, you're gonna make me come," he groans, lifting his head up to deepen his angle even further, fucking you even harder. "Are you close?" he asks, and you whimper in response, moaning high pitched and holding tight onto his biceps. "You're so fucking perfect," he says, his upper body falling down on top of yours again, as he holds you close. You come, the warmth and safety his body is giving you making you release, every part of your being comforted by the man above you.

"Yes, fuck that feels good," he groans into your ear, feeling the way you're squeezing so hard down onto him, your moans like screams again, stroking his ego in such an addicting way. "I'm never gonna get enough of you," he groans, finally releasing his load, his orgasm washing over him hard as his hips stutter, his face scrunching up in pleasure as he finally comes. He collapses on top of you, holding you close as you both come down from your highs, your breaths hard and fast and totally in sync.

"You're amazing," he mumbles, stroking a hand through your hair.

"No, you're amazing," you giggle, your head floaty and calm in your post orgasmic state. You poke his side, giggling into him when his body jumps.

"Don't you dare do that right now," he grumbles, tickling you back and twice as hard, making you shriek and laugh beneath him.

You stay cuddled up all night, not able to sleep cause you keep kissing, Yunho's large warm body making you feel safe in a way you didn't know you were missing.

"I should have taken these off before I fucked you," he laughs as he pulls of you glasses, placing them gingerly on your side table.

"Eh, it's okay," you laugh, snuggling into him closer. "They're always on, I'm used to it. I keep them on even when I dance most of the time, which is weird."

"I noticed," he said. "They're so fucking cute."

"You really like them?"

"Y/n, you're fucking perfect. Every thing about you."

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[blackkatdraws2]

[Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint] 5 years of waiting for Han Myungoh to reappear in the manhwa only for him to be changed into a completely new person. Disappointment.

[NOTE: I don't have anything against people who like Han Myungoh's Demon Earl design.] This will be me ranting/venting about Han Myungoh's new design. Don't get me wrong, I still like Han Myungoh. I love him a lot, I'm just letting out my frustration.

-------

"There were many small wrinkles on Han Myungoh’s face. Moreover, his whole skin was blackened. Putting aside the wrinkles, the skin discoloration was a sign of a species variation. The longer I looked, the more I could see the old face. Still, many human traces were missing and it was hard to know without looking closely." - chapter 204, Unidentified Wall

-------

Getting this out of the way before I start: I know that the manhwa design is accurate to the novel description, I know that there are many technical reasons why his design in the manhwa differs from merch/official art/etc., and I'M NOT HATING ON HAN MYUNGOH'S NEW DESIGN.

Okay.

I'm sad at the manhwa version of Han Myungoh's demon form.

Particularly, I'm upset since I doubt they'd make such a drastic change with any of the other KDJ Co. members. [There's Kim Dokja's demon form, but even then I could still tell that it's Kim Dokja, unlike with Han Myungoh.]

I knew he was gonna look different but something this drastic makes me feel distressed. Han Myungoh was the first, and currently still the only comfort character I have in my life, which is surprising since I never expected to even have a comfort character. Loved him in the novel, loved him even more when he was finally drawn by artists, then the manhwa adaptation trailer dropped and I was PUMPED.

I think what really pisses me off even more is that there's barely anything about him in the first place. I live off of scraps. I really only read the manhwa for him if I'm being honest, I prefer the novel ORV. I've waited for so long for him to finally appear in future chapters again, and when he does come back, he's completely unrecognizable!

It's not even the fact that HMO got redesigned, it's the fact that he looks like a completely different character! What happened?! That's not him, who is that?!

Like, just put yourself in my shoes for a second. Imagine Yoo Joonhyuk disappearing for the entirety of the manhwa adaptation and then when his long awaited comeback is here, he suddenly has long white hair, blue eyes, a chiseled jawline and a completely different outfit, like- you see where I'm coming from, right?!

I'm genuinely so distraught over this lmao, like /gen /extremely neg.

With that out of the way, I've processed this loss for a long time now and I've accepted the fact that I'll never see "Han Myungoh" in the manhwa ever again. I will love both designs even if I favor one more than the other, because it's Han Myungoh and I love Han Myungoh. I'll love him even if he was a worm.

[throesofincreasingwonder]

Actually OP's advice is very helpful, and I genuinely think it's worth considering. I get how it could be interpreted the way you describe, but I think it's a bad faith argument to say that OP is 'telling disable people to concede that they suck and are wrong all the time.' Instead, we could think of it more like an "I feel" statement. By reframing your apology as 'action → feeling → action' the way OP did, you take ownership of what you did while also helping the other person avoid triggering that response again. This is a lot more helpful than saying 'I have x, so y.'

They also aren't mutually exclusive! If you think that someone being aware of your specific issue would be helpful to you or them in the future, you can make them aware of that without just offloading your apology onto your disorder or disability.

To use the example above, you could easily reframe "Sorry I snapped when you and your friend spoke at the same time, I actually have sensory issues." as "Hey, sorry I snapped at you earlier. I have sensory issues, and when two people are talking to me at once I can get really overwhelmed, which sometimes makes it hard to regulate my feelings. I'm not mad at you, and I'll try to make you aware earlier or remove myself from the situation if I'm getting to that point of overwhelm in the future."

The latter makes for a better apology (the specific situation OP is trying to give advice about—sometimes you may not need to apologize, but this post is about when you feel the need to do so) for several reasons. Firstly, it gives a specific triggering action to the other person. You included this in the above example, which is great, but took it out of the revision ("I just hate the sound of your voice"). It's important to recognize that first revision is not including the technique OP is employing here.

Second, it takes ownership over your actions. There are obviously some symptoms of disability that you cannot control, and therefore should not need to apologize for (or at least apologize for in the same way as other actions). That mention of convulsing is a great example, because it's and involuntary physical response. You shouldn't apologize for convulsing unless it hurt the other person, because generally apologies cover actions you intend to do differently from here on out.

But there are other actions that you are responsible for, and that you need to take ownership over. Yelling at someone in OP's post is a great example; RSD may mean you can't control feeling of betrayed or hurt, but it doesn't make you yell at anyone. That is an action you have control over and can change in the future. You have every right to have that feeling but not to attack others, which is what the apology is for.

The reason OP's apology structure is more useful than just explaining symptoms is because it focuses directly on the action you're apologizing for. When you apologize only by telling someone your behavior is a result of your disability, it can make it hard for the other person to respond and shut down further conversation. An apology that focuses on actions instead sets clear expectations for both yourself and the other person going forward, and opens a dialogue about what you can both do to avoid that situation in the future.

Sick list of symptoms bro. Now try humanizing your behavior instead of pathologizing it.

[celestialtarot11]

Future Spouse PAC—

Hi friends! Highly requested—a future pick a spouse reading. I appreciate all of you for being here <3 please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow! Your presence means the world. It’s also 11:11 as I type this so for anyone who needs this here you go.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Hope all is well in your world. For you I see a lot of prominence in your future spouse. They are physically well dressed, put together and appear luxurious. They can invest in quality brands and wear clothing that makes them feel good. I’m seeing someone wear a long tail coat and it emphasizes their height, because it’s slender and yet angular. This person has a great sense of fashion! I heard fashion icon. Some people may look to your future spouse for inspiration, and I heard designer. So perhaps they work closely with others in a artistic sense! They could be a Leo, Taurus or Capricorn. This is also someone who is generous with their energy and resources so if someone needs help they will offer it! Humble, has humility and carries themselves well. I have a feeling this is someone slightly older than you! They could have a pet as well, maybe a parrot for someone or a budgie. Cute! But back to their generosity I feel they give back to their community a lot, and may donate, raise funds for charity! There’s this soothing angelicness to them which people are drawn to, and their smile is also soft and beautiful! It’s something you’ll really like! I also see boyish rugged features for those who are interested in men. And for women I see chubby cheeks, fuller lips and lighter eyes! Your person can be on the taller side :) As for their hobbies may include hiking, skiing, camping! They may go with family as well. They could also be into religious studies like studying different religions, cultures and traditions. They may not necessarily be religious, but study the bible or Quran for example. They just love to learn. Thank you pile 1 for being here! Means a lot to me. Hope you like comment and reblog <3

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Haha for you I got a very elusive slippery energy from your future spouse. I feel as though in their younger years they were really hot. They were a know it all. They were charming, devious and funny. And they still are! They’ve certainly still got it going. I do feel as though when you meet them you might pick up on those traits from their past and stay away—but this person has identified that they want a deeper commitment here with you. They have grown a lot and instead of chasing cat and mouse, they are confident in attracting the right person. They don’t want games anymore, I’m hearing they don’t have time for it. So your person could be very busy and on the go often, like traveling to other states or places for work. It requires them to constantly be moving. I feel as though there is an element of long distance here but not necessarily forever! They can be foreign, as well. Different culture, values, traditions. But I think this’ll draw them in even more to you and vice versa. I feel this person has worked their way up to developing self respect and esteem, so they may be a bit intimidating at first. I see honey blonde hair, fair to tan skin, and tall figure. They can have toned figures and look as if they work out. They may be into sports of some kind that challenges their body. They need to get that energy out, i feel as though they’re like electricity, constantly sparking and looking to connect to a source. They can be scattered and flighty because their job is demanding of them, but they mean well. They’re funny, confident, boisterous, and charming! Very smooth with their word so expect them to charm your pants off ;) They may have black hair and keep it neatly trimmed! For men I see a neat beard and it isn’t long, it’s not a stubble either. It defines their face very well and I feel they have intense eyes. For women I see brown hair, thinner lips and green eyes! Or just lighter eyes in general. I feel they’re known as muscle mommy 😭 because their body is toned. Thank you pile 2 for being here! Any likes comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Pile 3: Okay right away pile 3 Electric by Alina Baraz began to play! Lol hope your day has been well. I feel as though this person is intense, stern and firm at first. I heard CEO. What kind of wattpad love story is this? Lmfao im hooked. Anyway, this person could have a higher position in your job and I do feel how you meet is they help you out. They may offer you a position, or talk to you, and somehow it slips out that you’re struggling. Im seeing two people meet for coffee in the lounge room and hitting it off, and its unexpected. I feel you two may expect a purely professional relationship but no—this is something deeper. There’s this feeling of intimacy and closeness with you two, like you two saw each other a long time ago and now you’re meeting again. Very familiar and comforting. Feels like 4h synastry! I love that. I do feel as though your future spouse is a provider and doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns in bed too ;) they are skilled I should mention. I also feel they are someone who tries to understand what their emotions are and what its telling them. So you can help them, maybe you understand emotional processing better and can guide them. They’ll guide you through the material world and offer insights, and help you feel stable financially. I almost feel as though you’re the spiritual one and they are in touch with the material realm. So they are stunned when they hear of your spiritual journey and not only that but attracted. They feel tempted by what they don’t understand. Speaking of temptation—theres a lot. Psychologically it’s tempting to fall into old patterns and I feel as though this connection is helping you release that, but also intimately the temptation is there! Very strong. “Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea.” I keep hearing that from the song and it describes the depth of your connection when you two meet. I also hear, “touch me, your electric baby.” So you two will definitely feel it. Its unmistakable! A little work romance never hurt anyone LOL that’s what I heard. Someone is saying it like a hushed whisper so I feel ya’ll will physically get closer to talk to one another—it’s an unconscious action yet so intimate. There’s a lot of unspoken tension here between you two. Anyways pile 3 enjoy <3 I hope this helped you! And please don’t forget to like comment and reblog to share the love.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[love-takes-work]

Streamily.com Presents: The Steven Universe Cast Reunion Q&A Part 1

Here's a complete overview of the Q&A that was put on by Streamily, hosted by Elijah ("Not-So-Average Fangirl"), featuring Rebecca Sugar as the showrunner/creator, Deedee Magno Hall as Pearl, Lo (formerly known as Charlyne Yi) as Ruby, Estelle as Garnet, Susan Egan as Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond, Tom Scharpling as Greg Universe, Michaela Dietz as Amethyst/Famesthyst, and Larissa Gallagher as Bluebird Azurite. Read below to find out about a secret scrapped episode, Rebecca's comment on how to look at Rose Quartz, and lots of hilarious commentary from the cast about the experience of voicing characters on Steven Universe.

When the stream opened, everyone did their introductions:

Rebecca said they created the show.

Deedee said she played Pear. LOL, then said Pearl.

Lo said they played Ruby.

Susan said I play Rose . . . (with a cringe) and Pink.

Tom said "I was Greg, and I still am Greg, I guess."

Michaela: "Famethyst for life baby!"

Larissa played Bluebird, and a little bit like the character, she pops up when you don't expect it!

Estelle was not on the call at the very beginning but joined shortly after the questions began.

Here are the questions and the participants' answers!

Q: There were so many messages in SU. Which one do you hope viewers keep with them the most?

A (Rebecca): Rebecca learned to trust themself in being the authority about who they are. They were a bit rocky on this issue when the show began in their twenties, and learned they needed to be true to the art they made. That was reflected in the characters too. They hope people watching will learn to trust in themselves too, in the face of other people trying to tell you who you are.

Q: For Deedee Magno Hall: Pearl grew and changed in the show. How did it feel playing her in the first few episodes vs. the last few?

A (Deedee): There was no way for Deedee to know Pearl's journey when she started voicing her. She relied on Rebecca and the Crew to learn how to voice Pearl. The group had been talking about the pilot before they jumped onto the call, and Deedee says if she had listened side by side to what Pearl sounded like in the Pilot and what she ended up sounding like at the end, Pearl (along with character growth), vocally got exaggerated--it was Deedee's voice but really "went there"! Pearl felt so many feels. Deedee hopes she executed it well direction-wise. What a blast to play Pearl! And to see the growth in her character! It was fun and a challenge, and Deedee was grateful!

Q: For Michaela Dietz: Amethyst is silly and chaotic usually--what did Michaela pull from for the more emotional and serious moments?

A (Michaela): Many of the more emotional moments are about figuring out origins (the Kindergarten, etc.). Michaela is a transracial / transnational adoptee, so she pulled from that and was looking for her birth family while they were recording the Kindergarten episode. That was an easy well to tap. The growth that Amethyst had over the course of the series and movie and Future, Michaela feels like it parallels her relationship with the other actors and their characters. She's grateful to have made so many friends and is so happy to have learned so much from Rebecca (she joked about calling Rebecca "Reba").

Q: Question for all: If you could hang out with your character for one day, what would you do?

A (Rebecca): Steven is based on their brother, so they would love to spend time with Steven. It was challenging through Covid to not spend time with Steven. They always make time for Steven. They love spending time with people who played the characters! They never got to have a wrap party because of Covid! They were together for 8 years and they still want to have a belated wrap party. They would also love to spend time with Ruby (the self-insert character) and they love spending time with Lo too. Then they said "I need to be stopped because I'll go through every person."

Announcement: Estelle just joined!

Belatedly, the mod asks Estelle's question: Garnet is such an iconic character. Did Estelle know she was a Fusion from the beginning?

A (Estelle): No. She was the big grown Gem who took care of the others. She found out in real time with the cast when she did the recording. She was surprised by the lines in real time and had to calm herself down to record each line. She felt it was an honor.

Back to the "all: question of what each would do if they could hang out with their character.

A (Deedee), misunderstanding the question: If she could hang out with characters, would do tae bo with Garnet, get french fries with Steven, and have a karaoke and dance party with Amethyst.

A (Lo): When they were in kindergarten they would spit all over a tree and try to cover it with their spit. If they hung out with Ruby, they would ask for Ruby's help spitting on trees. There would be lots of hugging, punching pillows, etc. The moderator Elijah thinks fan artists will have fun with that.

A (Estelle): If she hung out with Garnet, she would ask Garnet to give her all the future information. She would want to borrow her "future vision goggles" too and want to know the future.

A (Tom): He would just drive around with Greg and listen to records. Go eat more. And end up going bowling.

A (Michaela): She would eat trash with Amethyst (and also some quality food?). They would mess around the San Gabriel Valley, get meal after meal, maybe buy an illegal turtle? No, that's not funny. They might hit up Ruby and spit on trees. Take in some underground wrestling. Amethyst is very intensely chill, and Michaela thinks they could do a great many things together.

A (Larissa): Going from intensely chill to intensely chaotic. She wants to bring it down from chaos and go ride Lion on the beach, with Bluebird carrying swords.

A (Susan): She wants to go into Rose's room to unpack. Pearl would need to be with her to Marie Kondo the situation. Then she would throw on a Universe shirt and hit music festivals.

Deedee realizes she misunderstood the question and wants to add: if she hung out with Pearl they would do laundry and some spring, summer, winter, and fall cleaning. Definitely Marie Kondo-ing the whole universe together.

Q for Susan Egan: Rose turned out to be a very complex character. As the story progressed and more about her was revealed, did Susan's approach to voicing her change?

A (Susan): She can't sing the praises of Rebecca enough: Susan didn't know at all what Rose's deal was. She got some hate comments when it was revealed that she was Pink, and she LOVED that because it meant the fans were invested. She was as shocked as everyone else. Pink was aging in reverse; Rose was wise and flawed, and then Susan would be voicing Pink and had to be petulant and immature, and she's thankful for Rebecca's direction in getting that right.

Q for Lo: Ruby is adorable. We got to meet so many versions of her. Other than Garnet's Ruby, which Ruby was Lo's favorite to play, and why?

A (Lo): They loved playing Navy. They got to be hammy. They ask if you know how when you order stuff at the drive-thru and you become that? They don't know why. It felt good. While voicing Ruby, they got to get in touch with how angry they were. Being seen as an Asian woman, it was nice to have a spot to channel that anger, and being Navy is like making fun of who you have to become when you're a people-pleaser. "I LOVE DIRT!"

Q for Tom Scharpling: Greg is an eccentric but loving father. What was Tom's favorite part of playing him and does he have a favorite scene?

A (Tom): Doing Greg was so fun. It's not Tom but it's more him than he thought all along. He had never done voice stuff before this, so he went in completely new. A script would say "walla walla" but he thought he was supposed to say "walla walla." Everybody laughed at him. He knew literally nothing about proper voice acting. So he got to really try and work at it. It was so satisfying to get to better at it. Anything from "Mr. Greg" was the big one in terms of a memorable episode. It was the best time.

Q for Larissa Gallagher: Bluebird Azurite is quite a menace. Did she listen to the individual Ruby and Aquamarine voice acting for inspiration?

A (Larissa): Yes. The script said Bluebird was Cockney, so she already knew what to aim for, but it turned out that taking those inspirations from the two characters she's made of would have led to this kind of voice naturally.

Q for All: Where do you each of the participants think their character is now and what are they doing?

A (Rebecca): To the cast, they know what the characters are up to post-show, but they can't say, it's too canonical.

A (Deedee): Says she doesn't know what canonical means. Pearl is probably doing more laundry and working on an album.

A (Lo): They guess they're just . . . fused. (Perhaps separating for scouting?) They might play Ruby Rider but not alone anymore. Interdependence, learning how to ground; Lo is not really sure how to answer since they feel like Ruby would spend most of her time as Garnet.

A (Estelle): She doesn't know. She figures Garnet sees what was gonna happen and just said "mmm." Just chilling. Even when she's fighting she has to be chill with the fighting-related grunting. She got direction to "flatline" her acting. She found it pretty natural though.

A (Tom): Greg is probably right where everything started again. Maybe working at a GameStop. Maybe he owns a bowling alley now. When asked what Greg would name it, he replies "Strikes and Spares."

A (Michaela): Amethyst would randomly get rich with Bitcoin and is retired. Maybe she would play Taiwanese Mahjong. Living a great retired life.

A (Larissa): Bluebird would be plotting and scheming and planning. Probably on a big planning board.

A (Susan): If Rose and/or Pink exists on any level, the only appropriate thing for her to be up to is community service. Like cleaning up trash at the bowling alley? Susan thinks it's time to start having a positive impact.

Q for Rebecca Sugar: Were there any scenes that ended up on the cutting room floor that you wish you could have included?

A (Rebecca): There was a bunker episode that they spent weeks on trying to crack; they wish they'd finished it. Ronaldo had a doomsday bunker. Sadie and Lars were trapped in it (with Steven). There's no way to leave. They were working on it so long and just couldn't make it work but they were determined to (maybe a little bit of the sunk cost fallacy!).

But usually the things that got left on the floor ended up evolving and changing into something different, even if they were really attached to the original idea. The idea for "Barn Mates" was originally that Sadie and Lapis would be the roommates with Sadie going to college. They feel that the Sadie story they ended up actually using was great. They love what they ended up doing with Lapis too.

In the very earliest version of "Giant Woman," Steven was going to unfuse into the two parts of him. And his "perfect" form, the big glowing muscular adult-looking Steven, was a Season 1 idea, and they didn't use him until Future. (After all, our roly-poly Steven is perfect!)

Now there are some fan-submitted questions. Their usernames are included.

Q for Deedee Magno Hall, from Makittuu: In what ways is Pearl special to you?

A (Deedee): She feels like a broken record, but she says again she was grateful to be voicing someone with the same natural voice as she had, and she had always wanted to be able to sing in a cartoon. She loves that she got to sing in the show. Pearl was the first major voice acting role that she had ever done and there's no way she would have known what the show was going to become and how successful it would be. She was auditioning for everything and was new to voice acting at the time. But one thing that she loved about voicing Pearl is that she got to share the experience with her kids. She connected the love Pearl had for Steven with the love she had for her sons. When she started voicing Pearl her kids were 2 and 8. For them to be able to watch Steven Universe on TV and hear Mommy's voice was so cool to share with her family. Now her kids are 13 and 19!

Q for Estelle, from Gonosoi: Do you have any fun stories from recording your lines on the show?

A (Estelle): When she was going through things in her life--and she thinks this is true no matter where you are or how you identify--the show somehow could speak to whatever she was going through. The lines would often be relevant. She'd come in with sunglasses on because it was early for her and her voice would be low. She'd be crying behind her glasses in difficult moments. She liked a fresh first take instead of knowing ahead of time what she'd be reading, so she didn't read the script ahead of time. She was surprised by needing to do the "ugh" and "ah" noises in different ways. It'd be difficult vocally. With Michaela, Zach, and Deedee, in between the lines and reading things together, hearing them switch back and forth between talking about life and then doing their recordings, it was so cool to see them do their work.

Q for Michaela Dietz, from Mal: Which one of your other characters would get along well with Amethyst?

A (Michaela): Definitely Vee from The Owl House. Maybe Maj'el from Star Trek Prodigy. She would be so "What is this purple being? Why do you eat? Where does the food go?" She'd be fascinated with Amethyst. And Michaela feels like Amethyst would thrive and try to do weird stuff in response. The shapeshifting she has in common with Vee. They'd get up to some trouble. Fun trouble. Harmless trouble. (Another fanart cue!)

Q for Susan Egan, from Gladde: Does Susan feel that Rose forgot about Spinel? Does she think she wanted to go back?

A (Susan): Susan thinks a lot was forgotten in her mind when she became Rose. Rose was so enamored of what's in front of her in every moment; she lives in the moment and can be a good quality but obviously Susan didn't know all of that when she was recording! Steven Universe is her kids' favorite thing she's done. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): So much of the show is about how--something that was ultimately captured in the end credits song-- when you don't think of yourself as someone with power, Pink had less power than everyone around her, and she didn't know how much she mattered to others. She did things to them that she didn't think twice about because her importance to others didn't register. Feeling that she didn't matter, it radiated out. To her--her relationship with Spinel, Spinel was a toy to her. When she got a chance to grow up, she thought it made sense to leave Spinel behind. Pink is actually a softened version of what she was originally planned to be like. The sympathetic side of that and her self deprecation grew as they developed Pink over time. In aspiring to be a better person than she thought she was, that became who she was.

A (Susan): Rebecca brought all these characters' complexity to the table. It's easy to make things two-dimensional but people are complicated and we need to look at that in context. Good and bad can exist in the same person. She doesn't want Rose to always want to think about being Pink, but she thinks it helped her want to save more characters as Rose.

A (Rebecca): Rebecca likes to think of the Pink Diamond / Rose character as a cautionary tale.

Q for Lo, from stiffcorpse00: What kind of dates would Ruby and Sapphire go on?

A (Lo): Axe-throwing. They reference walking through doors and accidentally crashing into the frame, and they say "That's me." So they wouldn't do axe-throwing personally. Maybe Ruby and Sapphire would get some boba. Go walking. Teach Ruby how to float in water back because anger makes Ruby sink. Helping Ruby get anger out by screaming into pillows. Swinging one way and the other way.

Michaela suggests they could go to a rage room.

Lo objects that they're so expensive, and that they could just break stuff without needing to pay for it.

Susan suggests it'd be a writeoff because it's for work.

Lo says they'll go there and take a date.

Michaela says the experience is exhausting and therefore you don't need much time there.

Lo says a Ruby and Sapphire date involving paintball would be great, but everyone would run from Sapphire. Ruby's rage would get in the way. Sapphire would coldly get everyone.

There is more discussion of smashing fax machines and glass etc. in a rage room. Deedee asks "What is a fax machine?"

Q for Tom Scharpling, from GalixyYouniverse: What was his reaction to Greg getting his hair cut and was he upset?

A (Tom): He was fine with it. He was always coming from a different place than everyone else. His change would be getting rich or getting a haircut. Everyone else's was huge and cosmic. Anything with Greg, he related to Greg more than he should admit to.

Rebecca points out they have like drawings from 2013 with Greg with short hair. Sacrificing hair in a battle is something they always wanted to do.

Q for Larissa Gallagher from 1F4cnt4ND: How does she think Aquamarine and Ruby met and what was it like when they fused?

A (Larissa): She says it was a little bit mean to put her after Tom answering about the hair cut! But she doesn't know. If she had to say anything, it'd be existential. When you meet someone and you get that ball of energy inside you and you don't know whether it's good or bad--you don't know what's going to happen but something will happen. She likes to think that's the kind of energy that evolved. It didn't go in the most helpful emotional way but it was that moment attraction that no one can explain. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): They had discussed in the writers room what Steven's influence is on Homeworld, how there'd be all these Gems on the wrong side of history, whether they were high status like Aquamarine or low like Eyeball, they'd pool into an out-group and meet to be frustrated about it. They'd been working on something that made sense before Steven changed the rules. Different types of fusions / collaborations and one born out of frustration and spite was one they wanted on the show.

Q for all participants, from trynottohappen: What was the hardest scene to record?

A (Susan): The first thing she did as Rose was the VHS tape. The monologue was her first time playing a mother, and it spoke to her heart. Like Michaela looking for her biological parents, there's something the character can teach you. Susan had to pull herself together after reading it--she needed to be joyful about her progeny coming. It makes her weep even today. It was one of her favorite things. She loved recorded with Deedee, and loved the love between them, the betrayal of Rose to Pearl, when we finally get to know what was really going on between them.

A (Larissa): The scene where Bluebird revealed her backstory of why they felt the way they felt. The complexity of the characters in the show, the hate isn't just "I hate because someone did this and said that." It's grounded, a real space of hurt that can never be fixed. Having to recreate that and not hate the character but love the character because of how much pain they were in. That was difficult but incredible.

A (Michaela): The hardest scenes were toward the end because she knew the show was ending. They were cherishing every moment together. In 2016, the day after the election, that was a hard day. Everybody was really distraught. There was a group hug at the end. In a time of such uncertainty, it gave her so much solace to know they had each other and they had art, they had ways of expressing themselves, that day sticks out.

A (Tom): For him, the songs were difficult. He would get sent a demo Rebecca recorded the night before, he's driving into NYC from New Jersey and listening to the song for hours all morning so he'd have it in his head, and then would be so nervous doing the songs because he didn't want the whole recording to be just him going word by word, line by line. The songs were the big thing he was hung up on. He'd try to do the songs first, then the spoken lines, and then the things where he yelled--he'd end up screaming sometimes and he'd not have a voice left. He wanted to do right by these very special songs. He jokes that Rebecca said he let them down over and over. (Rebecca denies.)

A (Estelle): She doesn't remember many hard moments. She'd attribute that to Rebecca's direction. She took a laid-back approach. The grunts and noises weren't familiar but also weren't difficult for her. She'd drink tea after. Real life would be happening but they always had each other in their bubble.

A (Lo): The Ruby Rider episode was the most fun and the hardest. They always wanted to play a cowboy! They were also going through a divorce during the recording. It was tough leading up to marrying Sapphire, delivering the lines, and they started crying because the opposite was happening in their life. And then they got direction to be more emotional even though they were crying. They said their voice was dead inside even though they were quite emotional. They're shy in the booth. Lo felt sweaty and weird doing the acting in front of other people, feeling awkward, and this is the first time they had to be a voice actor. This was THE WORST playing multiple characters during the baseball episode.

Michaela was so impressed with Lo having to be "like 800 characters."

Lo comments that doing 5 voices around other people as a neurodivergent person was so difficult.

A (Deedee): She loved receiving the demo recordings before having to sing a song. One of her favorite things was the singing. She wants the album of all Rebecca's demos. She remembers getting a script Monday to prepare and record on Wednesday. She heavily depended on the voice director and Rebecca. The really wordy scripts were difficult for Deedee with "ten-dollar words." The screaming was also really difficult. (She'd also do singing at the beginning, speaking in the middle, screaming at the end.)

A (Rebecca): Instead answering what scene was the hardest to write, they say there are so many. Because it was storyboard-driven, the script was in flux until it was animated, and they'd still be working with dialogue. With the potluck, when Lars doesn't show, Sadie has dialogue as she's walking down the street talking about Lars. They did a thousand drafts of it. With Sadie's story, there's a matryoshka of struggling with self-esteem while commenting on other people's self-esteem. There was a long path to get Steven to step into his mom's shoes. The biggest thing was tracking the ongoing storyline in a storyboard-driven show. Rose's speech was pored over as well. They wanted it to be layered and make more sense as you learn more about her. Does this line encapsulate everything you're going to learn about this character 60 episodes from now?

Q from CaughtMoonlight: If each of them could play any other Gem, who would it be?

A (Susan): Everyone wants to be Garnet, but could never!

A (Larissa): Ditto. 100%. Also, not a Gem, but she wants to be Lion.

A (Michaela): Peridot. All the way.

A (Tom): He says he can't do that and he's just a slob doing the voice of a slob. These things are all out of his reach.

A (Estelle): She'd go with turbocharged Peridot. She says the things that are in Garnet's brain. She'd get spicy with it.

A (Lo): Lo would choose Greg. They say he's not a slob. The world should be more relaxed and accessible.

Tom says he doesn't mean slob in a bad way. But he owns his slobbiness.

A (Deedee): Hard question! She loved voicing Pearl and all the Pearls. Everybody else, it would be so hard to voice. No comment.

A (Rebecca): Early on they decided to take a back seat and not cast themself. They loved being in the director role. They put a lot of themself into SO many characters. That let them have a presence in everyone. One thing they're really grateful for, but their former boarder Adam Muto on Adventure Time, they got to voice Marceline's mother. The composers aivi and surasshu asked them to sing "Love Like You" because it's really a reflection of so many characters that they got to write.

Q for All: They are asked to share their projects and socials.

A (Rebecca): Working on things they can't talk about yet. Last year they released an independent album. Years ago Estelle said Rebecca should tour. Susan said kind things. Lo texts songs back and forth. They would not have been able to make that album without that encouraging. Tom had them on the radio show. So humbling. Spiral Bound is a little EP and they're so grateful. They'd love to do more stuff like that.

A (Deedee): She loves the album. She is doing some recurring voices for Kiff on the Disney channel, and singing praise and worship at church.

A (Lo): They're playing Larry in StuGo who's shirtless and gender fluid on Disney. They want everyone to know sunsets are awesome. Catch them while you can to chase away depression.

A (Estelle): She has a new album coming out early next year, with two singles out now. The music is uplifting. And there's the Estelle Show (on Apple radio!). She's just living her best life.

A (Tom): The Best Show/podcast is still on every week. He started writing a new book--he wrote one a few years ago and thinks the one he's writing now will be done in maybe 11 years, so check it out in 2038. Just working on TV stuff and dealing with whatever happens.

A (Michaela): Exciting stuff we can't talk about. It's tangerine season! Trees going off! Been harvesting.

A (Larissa): Just got back from Japan. Trying to get back there. Video games are coming out but she can't talk about it. She is working on a startup called Ethovox, trying to protect voice actors int he age of AI. Larissa got so much fandom just from doing Bluebird for two minutes! She's so grateful for that.

A (Susan): She produces live concert content for Disney worldwide. She loves being behind the scenes and creating jobs for others and bringing joy. They've been in 18 countries! She wrote shows for the Hollywood Bowl.

Part Two comes out November 18, 2024! You can get signed prints at Streamily!

[tzyunaes]

❝ EVENING GLOW 𓂃 wherein, you're stressed about your finals and your boyfriend’s got you

박성훈   𖹭    𝑓𝖾𝗆 — reader      𓂃  g. comfort, fluff, est. relationship  && cw. mentions of low self-esteem, stress and anxiety (  555  )   ✦        ARCHiVE

note : revamped version, hope you enjoy ♥︎

the yellowed evening light drifted through the curtains, highlighting everything in an unnatural way. you were back at your desk, stressed once again, this time even more than before. the next few days seemed like a lifetime away, and your stress-induced anxiety continued to grow. your mind slowly started to spin out of control, making you feel worse and worse. it's as if all hope just seemed…lost.

you felt a presence at your side. you looked over, expecting to see nothing, but apparently, sunghoon was there before you, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

you turned to face him, his presence was enough to make you feel the warmth of comfort, you found yourself melting in his arms,

“babe, do you even remember when you started studying for your finals?” his voice broke the well-established silence of the room, hands finding its way to stroke your hair gently. “i...don't even want to know, why do i feel like a failure who can't even get everything straight…”

“no y/n, shh, you know that's not true. you aren’t a failure at anything. i promise you, it’s all going to be okay.” he wraps you up even closer in his warm embrace, making you feel completely sheltered by his presence. his voice is reassuring and calming, instantly bringing peace to your mind.

“i know how hard you’ve been studying, how hard you’ve been trying. and i promise you, you’ll do just fine. uou always do,” quick sobs left your chest, the tears you've been holding back rolled down your face, he softly patted your head.

“i know it all is gonna be alright,” he whispered, brushing a lock of your hair out of your face, looking straight at your eyes, “i know you’ve been studying so hard, for so long. you’ve been putting in your best effort, and i’m so, so proud of you.”

more tears rushed down your cheeks, and he simply held you even tighter, rubbing your back and hair to keep you comfortable.

“you have nothing to worry about. things never go perfectly, they almost always have bumps and hiccups and things like that. but that’s okay. it doesn’t mean you’re a failure. it means you’re a normal person. and remember that i am here for you, and everything’s going to be okay, i promise you,” with that, he pressed a small kiss on top of your head.

his presence, his warmth, his words were always like a warm, cozy blanket that covers you, calming all the worries and stresses and fears of the past and future that have been eating away at your mind.

he wrapped you up in his arms again, and you melted once more, this time finally feeling at ease, confident, and free of the stresses that have been plaguing you. cause, you know that he's right. everything is going to be okay. you'll do fine, everything is going to work out.

you sniffled in his embrace, nodding in acknowledgement. with a subtle smile, he ruffled your hair affectionately, making you giggle, “alright, princess. let's ditch the worries of your damn finals for this evening and get you some dinner, hmm?”

a soft smile curled through your tear-stained face as you nodded, “mhm...homemade tonight.”

( ✉️ ) @flwrstqr @dioll @mioons @onlyjjong @junislqve

[choochooboss]

Coach acquired! This was probably not what you expected, but this keeps the possibilities for further interactions open!

Let me know your opinion! Would you like to see more of these two interacting in the future (like becoming gym bros)? Or rather see submas getting bullied more?

I have a couple more fun ideas on my mind but I also got a pretty long list of WIPs waiting ahah!

[wstviewvidal]

goodbye- w. maximoff

pairing: fwb!wanda x reader

summary: wanda tries to mend what was broken

a/n: here is the last installment of my first story, breakfast birthday goodbye! thank you all so much for the support you’ve shown the first two parts as well as the hc’s! it means the world to meeeeeee i love u guys soooo much!

minors do not interact

wanda never meant for everything to go down the way it did. scratch that, she never wanted any of this to happen. the ignored calls, the short texts, you avoiding her at your group’s weekly dinner.

she didn’t want that at all, and it was eating at her insides knowing that you are out there somewhere thinking that she wanted nothing to do with you, that she wasn’t serious about you.

it was the exact opposite, actually. you never leave her mind and she often finds herself texting you with random updates throughout her day just so she can end up calling you and hearing about whatever you have to say.

but now it’s been a week since the party and you’ve yet to actually have a full conversation with her. you don’t text her, only replying to her with a short and simple response when she sends you a message first.

she’s lost countless hours of sleep and finds it hard to make herself eat normal meals. the bags under her eyes have darkened and she’s become a hollow shell of herself, one she can’t even recognize in the mirror. everyone’s noticed it too, and it’s getting hard to ignore.

wanda prides herself on her incredible work ethic and her ability to do her job well beyond expectations, but for the past week even her team at work has noticed that she’s been off her a-game.

wanda hasn’t slept, and you could tell. she’s avoided every every attempt to rest or eat. only throwing herself into her work, which was futile because in the back of her mind was you. the ache of losing you and know you were out there hating her.

it’s gotten to the point where her boss has offered her to take the rest of the week off to recuperate over whatever happened that pushed her down. bad thing is, wanda said no and now she’s stuck thinking about you at her desk.

she turned down the offer, ignoring how badly her body is begging her to take the rest. work is the only thing keeping her mind off of you— or at least trying to.

she can’t get the look on your face out of her mind. the look at showed everything. the way your body looks exhausted, as if it had been fighting. worst of all, she saw every ounce of hurt in your eyes— it confirmed everything.

the look in your eyes, the hurt in your voice, the way you avoided her for the rest of the night at the party.

that’s how she knew you loved her back. and that was meant to be your final act of love— leaving her.

but wanda wouldn’t accept that.

wanda thinks of her future often. how she wants to open up her own firm, how she wants to have a decent sized house— no more than twenty minutes away from the city, the amount of kids she wants to have, you, you, you.

in every different imaginable scenario she’s imagined for herself, in every different future she’s envisioned, you’re always there. there’s no version of herself she can imagine without you.

which is why she’s suddenly found herself outside of your house in the middle of a thunderstorm at 8 at night.

she knew this was inappropriate and a setup for failure but she couldn’t go another hour not at least trying. she’s gone too many days with her anxiety eating away at her.

she knew that you loved her— hell, you basically confessed it to her the night you were drunk in her car. it’s been so long since then and she’s had to watch you date other people despite having confessed your true feelings.

so, logically, wanda had to force herself to ignore the confession and start to date other people as well.

but wanda knew they could never be you. no matter how hard she tried to make herself like the other girls, she always wished it was you she was holding at night— not them

as wanda stood outside your gate, she couldn’t help but recall when she went to go see you at work after you broke up with a fling.

and unfortunately for wanda, this was after you confessed. she had to sit there and console your crying eyes all while knowing the both of you had reciprocating feelings for the other.

wanda parked her car a few spots away from the main entrance and fixed her appearance before grabbing the takeout food she had brought for the two of you to share.

she sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to focus on her breathing and calming the nerves in her body. trying to rehearse things to say to say to you in front of her mirror, she looks over her appearance and fixes her makeup slightly.

i mean, what is she supposed to say to the girl she’s in love with who just broke up with someone she was dating? yay, now let’s get together? no. wanda had to be a supportive friend— no matter how badly she ached for more.

getting out of her car, she slowly walks up to the main entrance. as she walks in, she’s hit with the familiar smell of the air freshener the company uses and it gives her a small boost of confidence.

stopping to say hi to natasha before going into your office, she greets her.

“hey nat,” wanda says softly while peering into natasha’s office.

both wanda and natasha were familiar with each other through you and had no issue having conversations without your company, they were comfortable with each other.

natasha looks up from her work and up to wanda, a slight surprised smile on her face. she had a feeling wanda would show up for you, just unsure of when.

“hey,” she replies, “she’s in her office. she could really use the pick me up.”

wanda nods in understanding, “i know, she’s been down recently. brought her some food in case she needed it.”

natasha smirks softly and whispers lowly, “if you’re going to continue being a girlfriend to her, you need to make it official before somebody else does.”

wanda freezes. did natasha know about you two? surely you wouldn’t tell her anything, but why else would she say that?

wanda gives an awkward chuckle and walks off in the direction of your office, replaying natasha’s words and how she had a knowing look on her face as she said that.

slowly peering into your office, she knocks softly, “hey, pretty girl”

looking away from your desktop, you see wanda dressed in your college t-shirt and a pair of jeans while holding a takeout box from one of your favorite restaurants.

your heart swoons at the pet name, as well as the smile on her face. this isn’t the first time wanda’s shown up to your job unannounced. in fact, she does this at least a few times out of the month.

she insisted that it was her biggest priority to make sure you were taken care of.

she walks over to your desk and gives you a small kiss on the forehead and a rub on the back.

“you feeling okay?” wanda’s voice is laced with concern and love. it filled your stomach with butterflies.

truth is, you were actually feeling content after the break up. you constantly felt a weight on your chest while you were in that relationship. really, you could hardly call it a relationship. it lasted less than a month and you were happy it was over.

everytime you two went out, you always thought about how wanda would be acting if if was her you went out with instead. no matter what, you always had her in the back of your mind and you felt guilty for it.

shrugging softly, you lean into wanda’s side, enjoying how she’s giving you this soft attention. you really should be honest with her and tell her you’re fine but the fact that she’s being so sweet and attentive, it really makes you want to play into this facade just so she can continue being sweet to you. wanda tightened her hold on you and cooed softly.

wanda knew though. normally when you’re down and out of it, you hardly ever do your makeup. the way you speak is a bit more dragged out, the way you even look at her is different when you’re down.

wanda knew you were okay the second she got close to you, but how could she pass up an opportunity like this to hold you? she would take any excuse to touch you and make you feel happy. she knew she was in love with you, has known it for quite some time now. however, acting on it is a whole other story.

“i got you some food,” wanda runs her fingers through your hair softly, “i want to make sure you eat.”

wanda watches you as you nod softly and look up at her with a happy look on your face. yeah, she’s in love with you. no doubt about it.

you can’t help but immediately let out a soft giggle as you see how she looks at you. you two have known each other for years and she never fails to make you feel cared for.

what would it be like if you two stopped dancing around your feelings for each other?

wanda pulls out the food and you can’t help but swoon all over again. wanda knew your order, down to what you want put on the side instead of in the dish, even the sauces and other condiments. no one has ever known you like this.

the two of you ate for the next hour and a half. you asked her how work was going, her brother, what she’s doing for the holidays. the rest of the world ceased to exist for that hour and a half, and it didn’t feel like a lunch break. it felt like something you could get used to doing at home together.

the two of you existed in each others presence for that lunch break. maybe that was when you realized you truly were in love with her. or maybe it was an accumulation of things, but after that day you knew for a fact that wanda could be the one for you.

wanda walked slowly to your front door, her feet feeling heavy. she could hear her heartbeat, she could feel the blood moving around in her body. hell, she swears she can even feel her white blood cells. for the first time since she’s known you, she was terrified of speaking to you.

the rain soaked through her clothes and clung to her body. her usual soft brown hair was now black and matted with all of the rain water in it. she was freezing, but she didn’t care. each drop that fell onto her body only served as a reminder of all the things she’d never said to you.

every instinct in her was telling her to turn around and bolt, to run and not look back.

but the rational side of her told her that it was now or never. this was her last chance. if she ran, she’d never see you again.

she knew that the longer you two went without talking, the more likely it is that you’ll shut down and block out every memory with wanda from your mind. she knew that she needed to talk to you— and it had to be now.

before getting to your house, she stopped by a near by store to get you flowers. this wasn’t the first time she’d done so. in fact, the florist practically knew all about her love for you since it was all wanda could talk about when she went to go pick up your customized bouquet.

this time, however, it was terrifying knowing that there was a chance that this could be the last time she’d be giving you flowers. she knew you were stubborn and once you sat in your thoughts for too long, there was no way of getting you to turn back on it.

had wanda waited too long to speak to you? are you going to turn her away once she gets to your front door? is this going to be the last time she would see you again?

wanda stands in front of your door way, looking disheveled and drenched in rain. the roses she bought for you look worse for wear, but she couldn’t imagine coming to you empty handed. she needed to have something in her hand to help calm her nerves at least.

by the time she’d reached your door, she was shaking. but not out of cold, out of fear and desperation.

knocking on your door, wanda’s heartbeat quickens and for a split second she considers bolting and never coming back.

but the door opens.

and there you are, and somehow in the midst of all the chaos between you two, wanda thinks you look as beautiful as ever.

you look at wanda with an incredulous look, almost telling yourself you’re imagining her here at your doorstep.

you start, “wanda, i don’t think th-“

“no,” wanda says sharply, almost too firm and pushes past you and into your house. her breathing is shallow. it wasn’t from the rain though, it was from the years of unspoken truths, missed opportunities. she needed it out in the air.

wanda’s tone and demeanor momentarily stun you. she has always bent on anything you say and rarely interrupted you when you spoke.

after slowly closing the door behind her, you follow her further into your house. your heart is beating and you can’t help that worry she may get sick being drenched in all the rain.

wanda now is in the middle of your living pacing from one end of the room to the other, clutching drenched and withered red roses in her hands. she looks like she’s on the verge of passing out and you’re immediately worried that she very well could drop on your floor.

“wanda, i think you need to sit down.. let be get you a towel,” you say softly while waking towards her slowly, like she was a cat that could run off at any second.

“no,” she says quickly, now stopping and facing you, “you don’t get to kick me out or walk away this time. you can’t shut me out, not after everything. i know i hurt you— us, but i can’t just walk away without telling you everything.”

wanda rushes her words out, but not faltering once in her firm presence. her voice is laced with desperation and you can literally see her hands shaking.

you can hear a small waver in her voice, one youre not used to. wanda’s body language screams terrified and anxious, but her eyes scream with something much louder: resolve.

you can’t help try to hold back a smile at how you can see the emotion in her eyes. wanda’s eyes speak so much louder than her voice could ever, and you have always loved it so much. it’s how you two could communicate with one another from across the room.

you stand silent and nod, unsure of what to do.

“i understand how it looked. at the party, i mean. the girl there wasn’t anyone i knew, or even want to get to know for that matter. it was just a way to help me pass the time at the party, no matter how nasty that sounds,” wanda begins rambling and you can slowly see the confidence wear off. she pinches the bridge of her nose. this was already off to a bad start.

she had practiced this so many times over the past three hours and none of it was coming out how she wanted it to.

“she wasn’t you,” her voice breaks softly and her words make you freeze.

your heart beat quickens. what does she mean? maybe she’s just trying to make nice and keep the agreement going, it can’t mean that you think it means.

you try to interrupt her, “wanda-“

“i said let me ta-“

you raise your voice and look at her pointedly, “you are in my home and i will speak if i choose.”

wanda feels like a child being scolded.

with a soft and gentle voice, you apologize, “that night, my birthday. seeing you with that girl made me realize we’ve had this whole friends with benefits thing go on too long. it’s gotten in the way of our personal lives and for the sake of our future partners, we need to cut it off.”

you force it out, not sounding confident at all. although you had put much thought into it, it pained you to say it aloud to her. to watch her face drop, to actually see how your words affected her.

tears well in wanda’s eyes, spilling over with a soft, heartbroken cry. this wasn’t what she came here for. she didn’t come here so you could shut her down before even trying to tell you she loved you.

shaking her head and clearing her throat, wanda walks closer to you.

“you don’t get to cut this off without at least having a proper conversation with me,” wanda chokes out through sobs, wiping her tears angrily, “you can’t just throw me away like that.. please”

the silence between the two of you causes the atmosphere in the room to thicken.

hearing her pleading voice, the way she’s gripping onto your shoulders tightly as it’s the last time she’ll touch or see you again— you can’t help but try to fight tears.

in fact, it very well may be the last.

you shake your head, you had thought this over and realized that if wanda didn’t reciprocate the same feelings for you— it’s best if you let her go.

it had become a never ending cycle of stringing you along with no end in sight.

but if it meant nothing to wanda, why would she be here begging and crying for you?

haphazardly, you throw caution to the wind and decide that if this is the last night you’ll see wanda, you may as well lay it all on the table.

you pull away from wanda, raising your voice slightly, “do you have any idea what it took for me to finally accept that this, us, would be a never ending cycle? that it’s only a game of almost? i can’t keep waiting for you, for someone who’s just going to treat me like a place holder for another girl who won’t even last a month and a half?!”

you swallow tears and try your best to sound as firm as possible, “i sat around for all this time just watching you be with other people. giving them the affection i so badly wish you would reserve only for me.”

wanda’s eyebrows furrow at your insinuation that she only every treated you like a pit stop.

anger builds inside and she can’t help but scoff, “are you fucking kidding me? i treated you like a place holder? there’s no way you’re being serious right now.”

her scoff and rough voice cause you to turn back on your heel, defensiveness and frustration seeping through your veins.

“yeah, a goddamn pit stop, wanda. you came around, got me fucking wrapped around your finger and made me fa-,” you almost said it, “you had me wrapped around your finger. i was always there when you called, like a damn fool!”

wanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. you were acting like she was some kind of person who viewed you as a fool. she was helplessly in love with you, and this is what you saw her as.

running a hand through her hair in hopes of helping herself calm down, she exclaims, “do you really think this was one sided?! i had to watch you date other people too! i wasn’t the only one who dated! after that time you got drunk and i had to take care of you, i couldn’t stop thinking about you saying you wished we could be more! and then i had to carry on with my life like you hadn’t told me you wanted something more with me.”

wanda swallows hard before the words spill out—the night you told her you wanted more. she never wanted to tell you about that night, for fear of running you off.

it was now or never, she had to tell you.

you freeze, what night is she talking about? the weight of her words finally hit you, and it feels like the world has shifted. you search her face, like the answer you’re searching for is written on her forehead.

wanda sighs and rubs her face, “i’m sorry. you got drunk a while back and told me you wanted more. i never told you because i knew it would send you running off, and i couldn’t bare the thought of losing you. it was better to have you like this, no matter how much it hurt, than to not have you at all.”

the rain seemed to be the only sound in the house. the soft thuds of the branches outside hitting the side of the roof are all you two can hear. you stare at each other, for the first time with uncertainty as to what’s next for you two.

wanda walks slowly closer, stopping a few feet in front of you, “do you really think i wanted this to be one sided? i thought that by holding back and keeping my feelings to myself, it was the only way i’d still be able to have you in my life.”

you stare at her as you slowly understand what she’s trying to say. she loved you back.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” barely above a whisper, “and i’m so sorry that i made you feel that way. it was never my intention to make you feel like you were anything other than my first priority. i only every wanted you, only you. i found myself looking for you in every person i met because i was afraid that if i told you i loved you, you’d run away. if having you meant keeping my feelings to myself, i would make that sacrifice because i couldn’t fathom the thought of you. no longer being in my life.”

you stay silent, her words echoing in your head. wanda loved you back? you can see her hands shaking and the insecurity in her eyes. her hands are shaking and the petals on the roses are falling off slowly with the weight of the water droplets on them.

following your eyes, wanda remembers she got you roses.

she speaks softly, almost afraid to speak to you, “i brought you these. i’m sorry they’re not that pretty, they got kind of messed up with the rain and me squeezing them so tight.”

wanda speaks nervously, shyly and you can’t help but frown at her demeanor. she’s no longer the confident person you know. right now she looks like an insecure woman who’s been rejected by someone she’s been in love with for years.

you gently reach out for the flowers, still shocked by the revelation wanda’s revealed to you in the matter of fifteen minutes.

you hardly register that she’s leaving your home with a new weight on her chest and an empty feeling in her heart.

wanda took your silence as the final answer she’d been dreading. rejection. wanda thinks you don’t love her back. the silence in the room weighed on her like a death sentence and she was forced to walk away— heartbroken and alone.

the sound of her car door being shut pulls you out of your stupor and you realize what this means— what wanda’s departure means.

this can’t be the end.

with adrenaline coursing through you, you throw the door open. you rush out of your house and just before she leaves your drive way, you call out for her.

wanda, as if hoping you’d chase her, drives her car back into your drive way and parks. wanda looks anywhere but you, as if afraid the next thing you’ll tell her is to never come back. her hands grip at her steering wheel tight enough to the point her knuckles turned white. she’s terrified.

stepping outside of her car, she walks up to you. her hands are shaking and you can see that her eyes are red rimmed from all the crying she’s done tonight.

your voice is hoarse from the yelling and crying as well, “i’m sorry. i’m sorry it took this long to tell you and im sorry for accusing you of treating me like nothing. wanda, i love you too— i always have. i was terrified of you not feeling the same way so i forced myself to ignore it. i was wrong, i was wrong about everything.”

wanda’s breath stops and her eyes well up with tears again, “please don’t lie to me just for the sake of my emotions.”

you shake your head insistently, “i’m being honest, i swear on everything i love. i love you, i have for a while. i was just scared and i didn’t know you felt the same way.”

“you love me?” wanda’s voice is shaking and she can’t tell if she’s dreaming or already getting sick from standing in the rain for too long.

nodding with a nervous smile, you don’t care about the rain soaking your clothes or the lighting in the sky. all that matters is that you tell wanda how you feel. before time runs out and you lose her for good.

wanda inhales sharply, a look of relief washing over and she lets out a soft laugh. a trembling hand cautiously reaches for your face as her eyes flooded with relief.

“i was scared,” she says through a wet laugh, “i thought that you would run if i told you i was in love with you.. but if you’ll let me, i swear i won’t ever make you feel like a second priority again. you’ve always been the most important thing in my life and i never want you to feel like anything else.”

her words hit you like a rush of warmth, contrasting against the cold rain surrounding you two. you smile widely, your heart overjoyed with the fact that wanda did love you as you did her.

you laugh— a genuine laugh, and before she can get another word out, you pull her into you. you couldn’t waste another second before connecting your lips.

when you two meet, it’s like everything clicked. all the chaos, all the flings, every person annoying you two about getting together, it meant nothing now that you two expressed what you’d been hiding.

you rest your forehead against wanda’s and whisper softly, “we’ve got a lot to figure out now, but this means we’ll do it together.”

wanda nods with a small smile as she looks at you, “yeah, together.”

as you two stand there, both laughing at the dramatics of it all, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, one you’ve held for years. wanda was finally yours and you knew then and there that all of the missed opportunities and lack of truths only led you to her.

ignoring the messiness and the lack of perfection, it was real.

[starcurtain]

I know I've talked a lot about Alhaitham actually being one of the funniest characters in Genshin Impact, but every time I think about him, I find something new to laugh at.

Alhaitham's character stories and personal criticisms of Kaveh largely hinge on one specific point: That Kaveh's genius intellect and artistic abilities are incongruous with his idealism. Kaveh possesses more talent than a selfless person should reasonably have, leaving him vulnerable to constantly being taken advantage of.

However, Alhaitham states these complaints about Kaveh's personality while having the exact same problem himself.

Alhaitham is literally the definition of "personality and talents do not match." Sir, you are the pot calling the kettle black.

It's a given: Alhaitham is exceedingly competent. He is intelligent, rational, and capable of being impartial when needed. Despite being a slacker as the Akademiya's scribe, during his stint as the Acting Grand Sage, the game goes out of its way to note--in several places--that Alhaitham was actually going above and beyond what was expected of him, taking the position very seriously, uncovering and fixing major issues in the Akademiya, and demonstrating a deep care for the sanctity and future of the Akademiya as a whole when Sumeru's people's will to research and learn declined after the collapse of the Akasha.

By all accounts, Alhaitham is (was) a fantastic Grand Sage. Compared to Azar, who is shown as inherently self-aggrandizing and unconcerned with Sumeru's well-being, Alhaitham genuinely did his best during his brief time as Sumeru's leader, protecting students' research, concerning himself with how to address the people's problems, and even diving in to solve mysteries that normally would have been left for the matra. As Acting Grand Sage, we're told his behavior and judgments were fair, and he addressed problems immediately and with his full effort.

In short, there is literally no one else more qualified to be Grand Sage than Alhaitham.

And yet, despite possessing every talent needed to be the leader of a nation, Alhaitham doesn't have the personality for it. He has every single trait a good leader requires... And yet he refuses to be a leader. His own talent vastly exceeds the slow-paced life his personality leads him to seek, making his particular abilities more incongruous with his values than Kaveh's--by a mile. People keep trying to promote him into positions of leadership because his talents are so obvious, and yet he does everything in his power to deny his own abilities and instead fly under the radar--and under the level of his full potential too.

Awful hypocritical for you to claim Kaveh's talents don't match his personality when yours match even less, Alhaitham...

[inawickedlittletown]

From Loaves to Love -BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: Set during 8x07, Eddie sends Tommy a picture of Buck's baked good filled fridge. Fix-it fic. A continuation for the snippet I posted this morning. Words: 2.9k Read on Ao3

-

Tommy receives a picture of a fridge full of baked goods. Mostly, from what he can tell, loaves. The picture comes from Eddie without a caption. It takes a while for him to realize that the fridge is familiar because it belongs to Evan.

Eddie texts him a few minutes later:

Every time he thinks about calling you, he bakes something instead.

Tommy has a little bit of a breakdown about that because maybe in his mind he'd thought that Evan would already be over it, over them. He'd been not hoping for it, but expecting it, even while he knew that he would probably have a few more cries about it and that any reminder of Evan was enough to make his heart hurt.

The thing is that Evan isn’t really a baker. Or at least, he hadn’t been in the six months that they were dating. He’d been busy from the looks of it. He’s still looking at the picture when Lucy plops down next to him. 

“What’s happening there?” 

Baked every time he thought about calling Tommy. He doesn’t even fight when Lucy grabs the phone out of his hand and scrolls back on his texts with Eddie. 

It’s been the only form of communication he’s had with anyone from the 118. He was thankful for Eddie and for the way that he’d reached out the day after the break up not to demand anything of Tommy, but to ask how he was doing. 

Tommy had texted him back after some consideration. In all their back and forth, they hadn’t discussed it or Evan. Tommy hadn’t allowed himself to ask, not sure if he wanted an answer. 

“What are you going to do?” Lucy asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

Lucy fixed him with a look. “Tommy, you’ve been moping for days. Clearly he is too. Neither of you wants this.” 

“It’s for the best,” Tommy said and he didn’t even know if he believed that anymore. 

He’d believed it in the moment, had been so absolutely sure that it was the right move for both of their sakes and yet…

“You’re running,” Lucy said. “I know…I know you’ve been hurt before, but this time you’re not just hurting yourself. You’re hurting Buck too.”

“He’ll get over it. I’ll…I’ll get over it.” 

Her eyes bore into him even as she handed him his phone back. “Thomas, you’re in love with him.” 

—

Buck had bought all the baking supplies when he’d decided he’d take a stab at making Tommy a birthday cake. That had been before his heart was wrenched out of his chest and given a few stomps for good measure. That was before Buck decided to Buck things up by pushing for more too quickly and before Tommy decided that it was better if they ended things before Buck could end it in the future.

He didn’t bake a birthday cake. 

Instead, he baked a banana bread with the bananas that were going spotty. He discovered that being busy and having to pay attention to something like the recipe kept his mind off Tommy. Except that Tommy came rushing back into his head afterwards. 

Buck almost called him. Wanted to. Wished he could hear his voice and his laugh and that they could fix it. 

Fear stopped him. Fear that Tommy had blocked his number. Fear that he wouldn’t pick up. Fear that he would and that he’d tell Buck not to call. Fear that he would call him Buck again instead of Evan. Fear that Buck would be sent to voicemail and that he would say something he couldn’t take back. 

So, he didn’t call. 

Instead, Buck baked a pumpkin loaf. Then an apple loaf. Then a walnut and date loaf. That was when he realized he was out of flour and also that hand mixing was not ideal. 

He called Eddie. 

It had taken him hours before he told Eddie what happened. Eddie hadn’t said much, but he’d offered Buck the couch and then went out and got them breakfast the next morning. Eddie was the one to tell the rest of the 118 and when Buck begged for Eddie to check on Tommy, Eddie just hit his shoulder. 

“I already did,” he’d said. 

Buck didn’t talk about Tommy again. 

“What’s going on, Buck?” Eddie asked over the phone. 

“I need you to come to Costco with me.”

“Costco?” Eddie asked and after a pause. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll even drive.” 

Eddie didn’t say anything when Buck bought the twenty-five pound bag of flour or the bottle of vanilla extract, or the sugar, or the bags of nuts. He did raise his eyebrow when Buck picked up a Kitchen-Aid mixer. 

“What is all this, Buck?” 

“I just…I need to do something.” 

“So you’re starting your own bakery?” 

After they got everything up to his apartment, Buck sent Eddie home with all the bread he’d made the night before. Eddie didn’t say a word, but he did look like he wanted to say something. A few days later, Buck thought that he’d gotten quite good at making different types of loaves. He’d even branched out and found more interesting and complicated recipes. 

He did have to take a second trip to Costco to get more eggs when he got it in his head that he should attempt a baked alaska.

Buck did think he saw Eddie take a picture of the contents of his fridge the night he came over to play video games. 

Maddie and Chim both didn’t seem to get it. When she said the universe would give him someone special, did she not realize that it had already happened? That Buck had somehow still managed to blow it and that Tommy wasn’t leaving his heart anytime soon? That not calling him was Buck trying not to push where he wasn’t wanted? That not calling was Buck letting Tommy have what he wanted. 

And yeah, Buck had been thinking about what Tommy said after Buck not being his last and how he needed to explore. It was bullshit, but if that was what it took…if he could prove to Tommy he’d tried to find whatever it was he was supposed to find with other people then…

The logic was dumb. 

After they left, making him promise he’d cut back on the baking, Buck went back to baking. He made brownies and took them right into work the next day alongside a banana bread, a walnut loaf, a zucchini bread, and a pumpkin spice loaf. 

—

The knock on his door was in a quick rhythm and Tommy almost didn’t answer. He’d been wallowing a bit because they’d had plans for tonight. Plans to celebrate his birthday, no less. 

Tommy hadn’t celebrated many birthdays in his adulthood. There had never been much of a point, but Evan had wanted to plan out a date for them and now…now Tommy was all alone in his house wallowing. Moping. Rethinking his whole life. 

“Coming,” he called out when the knocking started again. 

He was not expecting Hen and Karen. No kiddos in sight to see the state of him at least. Tommy was a mess. He’d changed into sweats and a tank the moment he got home. His hair was a mess. His eyes probably looked red rimmed and exhausted. 

“Hi,” he said. “What are you—”

“Happy Birthday,” Karen said. 

“Oh? Uh, come in.” 

Tommy didn’t even realize they had a small box with them until Hen plopped it on his kitchen counter. 

“What is that?” 

“You broke it, and suddenly we’re all on the verge of becoming diabetics and it was just Halloween so we’ve all had more than enough sugar. But it’s your birthday and we figured you should get a taste of what you’re created.” 

“What?” 

Out of the box came bread loaves. Muffins. Cookies. Brownies. Hand pies. Were those meringues? No cake, though. 

“He bought a Kitchen Aid. He’s becoming some sort of baking machine,” Hen said. “All because he can’t bear to think about you.” 

That went right to his chest. Lucy wasn’t wrong. Tommy did love him. Tommy was in love with him. 

Looking at Karen and Hen, he wondered if they would understand where he was coming from. 

“I was his first boyfriend,” he said. 

“We’re aware,” Karen said. 

“So, then…then you know what that means. He’s been out for…for six months and he doesn’t have any other experience except for with me. How is that fair to him? To me? One day he’ll realize and then that’ll be that.”

“You’re a dumbass for thinking that,” Karen said. 

“My wife is usually right about things,” Hen said. 

Tommy groaned. “He put me on a pedestal. He doesn’t know it, but he sees me as his gay mentor and he’s confusing that with…with, I don’t even know. I just — I had to put a stop to it before—”

“Before you got hurt,” Hen finished for him. 

“Looks like you didn’t avoid that,” Karen offered. “Did you talk to him about any of this? You guys were together for six months, what was the point if you were always going to just leave in the end?” 

Tommy hadn’t even realized he was crying, but he was. “It’s not like I planned it. It was…it surprised me too. He asked me to move in with him and he was talking getting engaged and married and—”

“Wait…wait, he asked you to move in? How do you go from that to breaking up?” 

Tommy couldn’t explain about the Abby thing and he couldn’t explain about how he wasn’t the guy that got forever and how he wasn’t the guy that deserved someone like Evan. He couldn’t explain about how much it freaked him out to think that Evan could jump right to moving in together before they had even said that they loved each other as if Tommy were just some kind of place holder until Evan found someone else. Someone better. Explaining that would make him be seen and Tommy…he didn’t know that he wanted to be seen even if Hen and Karen could understand where he was coming from. 

“Look, talk to him. Please,” Hen said. 

“This is just a bump in the road. The two of you, you’d never looked happier than you have in the last six months,” Karen added. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

—

Buck ran out of sugar. 

Jee was partially to blame because she’d spilled some the night he had her as a helper. It was 3am and Buck supposed that there was probably somewhere open that he could get some sugar, but he was down to just his underwear and the plaid shirt Tommy had left behind that didn’t even smell like Tommy anymore and wasn’t that just unfair. Plus, his oven was on and Buck didn’t want to leave it on while he went out to get sugar. It would be just his luck that he’d be back and his apartment was one fire. 

Eddie probably had sugar. Buck didn’t want to bother him. 

Chim and Maddie would judge. 

Bobby might bring some over or he might just tell Buck to go to sleep. 

He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy. Missed him. Wanted him. 

Buck grabbed his phone and he went right to messages and typed:

Ran out of sugar. Do you have any? 

Sent it to Eddie. 

No response. 

He wandered over to his couch and…Tommy had slept there just a few weeks ago because he didn’t want to leave Buck on his own. No one had ever done that for him before, cared enough to stay and cared enough to give a damn. Buck wiped at his eyes. It wasn’t fair. 

When he broke up with Natalia he had felt free. When he broke up with Taylor he’d felt like he was finally choosing himself. Ali leaving had been clouded with so much else that Buck had hardly been able to think about the break up because his leg was in a cast and his future was in question. Abby…well that had been devastating and yet this…this was worse. So much worse. 

His phone pinged. 

He fished it out of his pocket and oh no…he…the text hadn’t been sent to Eddie. He’d sent it to Tommy. 

Yes. 

Oh no. And he was typing. And not typing. Typing. Then…nothing. No message. No more typing. No call. Tommy was bubbling him again. 

Buck dropped onto the couch with a groan. At least Hen and Eddie weren’t there to try and steal his phone again. This time, Buck didn’t even want to call. 

After all the times he stopped himself from reaching out, that was what he sent? A text asking for sugar? 

When the knock came at his door, he went to open the door, reluctantly. A part of him almost didn’t even expect it to be Tommy but of course…of course it was Tommy standing there in his pajamas with just one of his flannels open over it all, in each hand a container of sugar. Brown and white. 

“You didn’t have to,” Buck began. 

“It sounded desperate,” Tommy said. “Hi, Evan.”

“Come in,” Buck said. 

Tommy stepped inside and Buck closed the door, trying to gather himself. In the light of his kitchen, he could see that Tommy looked if nothing else tired. The skin under his eyes was dark, like he hadn’t been able to sleep. Buck could relate. Tommy was taking him in too and that made him feel the tiniest bit self conscious about his lack of pants. 

“So, you’ve taken up baking.” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s not a normal response to a break up.”

Buck laughed. He laughed because he might cry if he didn’t. 

“Do you want me to be like you, then? All unbothered at the end of the best six months of my life? Is that it? Oh, wait…no, you want me to go find myself or something? Sleep around and what, go back to being the himbo that Abby dated after you left her? Except I guess now I can sleep with men and women, somehow I don’t think it will go any differently.” 

“Evan,” Tommy said and his voice was gentle and sad and there were tears in his eyes. 

“I can’t do that,” Buck said and his voice broke. “I can’t. I can’t. I miss you. I want you. I wanted to bake you a birthday cake and since I couldn’t do that I baked everything else and it still isn’t enough.”

“Oh, Evan,” Tommy said and he set down the sugar and opened his arms, giving Buck the option. 

—

Evan rushed into his arms, burying his head in Tommy’s shoulder, tears and all. His arms clutched at him and Tommy didn’t think that Evan was likely to let him go any time soon. It didn’t matter, because Tommy wanted to hold onto him too. 

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “I’m so sorry. I did this to us.” 

Evan nodded against him. “I didn’t help,” he muttered. 

“When you texted me tonight…the thought of you up at this hour baking, I got worried and I’ve been literally doing anything possible to stop myself from driving over since that night. I had to come. I had to see you.” He took a breath and couldn’t hold it in any more. “I love you, Evan.” 

“You love me,” Evan said back, pulling back, staring at him with that amazed look in his eyes like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

His hands reached for Tommy’s face. “I guess it’s a good thing I love you too. And I am never letting you go, again.” 

Their kiss was reminiscent of the first. It was even happening near where that kiss had happened. It was gentle, soft, full of so much wonderment and feeling. Neither of them willing to push it into more because this was what they needed. There was so much to talk about and so much to consider and work on and yet, Tommy wasn’t afraid of that as much as he was afraid of giving up on this. On them. On Evan. 

He’d lived a little over a week without Evan and even that was too much. 

“I’m still not moving in with you,” Tommy informed Evan after a few more shared kisses.

“Oh. Yeah, I jumped the shark on that a little.” 

“You also forgot to consider that I own my house and you rent,” Tommy said. 

“So, how about this, nothing changes and we communicate more. You decide when you want us to move in together because we will. One day. You may be the first dude I’ve ever dated, but I think you can be the last too.” 

He kissed Evan again and Evan moaned into the kiss. They were interrupted when the oven timer went off. 

“I thought you ran out of sugar?” Tommy asked. 

“I was going to make apple pie,” Evan said. “That’s cupcakes.” 

He let Evan go take them out of the oven and out of curiosity began to look around. Opened the fridge. He couldn’t even begin to count how much Evan had managed to bake. 

“What are you planning on doing with all of this?” 

“I have no idea,” Evan said. “Donate it?”  

Tommy just laughed. “Yeah, Evan, I’m sure someone will appreciate it. Those cupcakes are mine, though.” 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Happy birthday, by the way,”

Tommy ate the first cupcake before it had cooled and without any frosting. “Hmmm. Delicious.” 

[space-blue]

Disappointed in the Vander backstory

I fully expected that it was coming, but I'm disappointed in the timeline all the same.

The "Vander got upset because a fight against Piltover Silco instigated killed the woman he loved" was literally my first draft for my longfic Fathers and Daughters, and I ended up scrapping it because I felt it was too cheap and wouldn't justify the violence of his actions against Silco.

"When she died I lost my head" he says in the letter.

But when she died you actually dropped your gauntlets and picked up the girls and everyone has been assuming this was the moment you swore off violence...

The fact she goes on to let Vander name her kid, and seems to be thick as thieves with them, and ALSO tells them of the pregnancy before she builds up the courage to tell her partner... Tells me that surely... SURELY by the time Vi is 10-11, whatever she is on the bridge in season 1, she would KNOW SILCO as her mom's bestie, no??? Not just Vander.

It feels like this entire angle is pulled under the rug to simplify the conflict in act 1.

I do appreciate being right on the money with Silco knowing and being friends with the mom, and having known Vi as a baby. I think it makes sense, especially if he was an important community leader.

I just hate her death being the catalyst of Vander's actions against Silco. It means that the timeline actually like this:

Mom-Silco-Vander are best friends. Silco is "Bozo 1" and has been leading the transformation of the Lanes with Vander's help. He's already planning his nation of Zaun. His notebook is literally saying "NZ" for Nation of Zaun.

At an ONGOING confrontation with enforcers, Silco throws a molotov cocktails that doesn't seem to even kill an enforcer (Powder and her innefectual bombs parallel? The entire scene is intercut with the monkey bomb clapping so... The scene leading to a friend's death also parallels the events of Jinx's birth.)

As the smoke clears/the POV looks down, we have the reveal that the girls' Mom is dead.

Vander admits the blood was on his hands as well, meaning he either started this confrontation with Silco, or fought just as badly/increased the violence (and we see him murder enforcers later on). Anyway he admits to carrying the blame, and apologized in person to Silco for the dubbed "betrayal".

Then he went home, shaved, dragged Silco into the Pilt, and tried to drown him *because their common friend died at the failed uprising*.

He's then haunted, seemingly, by visions of Silco being dead:

To me it's sort of weaker and sadder, as it establishes Vander as someone more flawed and less ruthless. It's not that he wanted the Lanes, it's not that Silco was getting in the way of what he wanted.

Vander was out there happy with everything they were dishing out, right until their actions cost the life of a friend, and he broke, emotionally, and BLAMED it on Silco, going so far as to kill him (or try).

He surrendered his gauntlets, picked the children up, tucked them in at home, shaved (I cannot stress this enough), then took Silco into the fucking river and brutally attempted to murder him.

Then he massively regretted it and left little breadcrumbs of apologies in case Silco found them and returned to him.

So, canon couple, first off lol

Fellas, is it gay to hang your jackets inside each other's in your secret hideout? Is it gay that all your core hidden memories begin with your mate smiling at you?

Yes, yes it is. Zaundad is canon and I'm not taking commentary.

Secondly, that means Vander was an emotional ticking time bomb who wasn't ready for the price to sacrifice in order to gain their freedom. I really wonder what the alternative reality would have been like, were Silco the one dying on that bridge.

Anyway, it brings some twisted sadness to the situation, because the mom wanted Zaun "no matter what" for Vi's sake, her child's future. But Vander decided that lives weren't worth spilling over that dream and tried to kill Silco over it, before teaming up with Grayson to continue enforcing a status quo.

So that means that Silco, even as he raises Jinx, is continuing her mother's dream, of building Zaun, a country that's safe for her children, "no matter what".

But very sadly the show also acts like Silco doesn't know the kids, and like the kids don't know him. Powder, sure, but Vi not knowing Silco is just downright stupid. Not even knowing him by name? When her mom was out fighting alongside him??? The mom is ALSO a miner, very clearly working with Silco and Vander, alongside the nameless poor husband.

I feel like this doesn't really solve the issues that were already raised when we speculated about act 1. It just clarifies that Vander was truly, willfully a force of oppression inside the fissures, working against the revolution necessary for Zaun becoming possible.

But it implies Silco didn't recognise Powder and Vi, and that Vi didn't recognise him or understand how he knew Vander. It's a disservice to the story, because that tie, that old bond, could really have worked to dramatize the sacrifices Silco is ready to make, as well as the depth of Vi's hatred for him.

But the show acts like they're strangers and that Vander's death is the core beef between them until Jinx enters the picture.

And then there's the Benzo scene, when Vander holds his wound from Silco's knife, and says "we both know there's worse than enforcers out there" WHO ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT??? Yourself? You seem to be the worst thing around here! It seems clear he knew Silco was alive but had nothing to blame him for by then.

I'm left with holes that take the shape of "shock value" and "plot twist".

"Ooooh Silco knew the mom, twiiiist, but please don't think about the implications, because we wrote season 1 without taking this in consideration."

Feels like another job for fic writers, but IDK if I have the strength for it. I just like my own version better.

At least now we know that Silco did not IN FACT DO anything to "deserve" what he got. I'm sorry, but throwing a molotov at enforcers when fighting for your freedom is based and Vander was dishing death right there next to him.

The base violence necessary for change, eh? Vander just delayed the price being paid for Zaun's creation.

[goat-among-cycads]

My final for my drawing class! My teacher approved my idea so now big Nuzi screenshot redraw exists and I am happier for it

Close ups and original image under cut

[seitmai]

She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

I 100% believe this, I feel like Pepper would be a great friend (even though she's always busy)

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

Whatever Pepper does, she does it right and all in

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

Already an iconic team

“Put me to work wherever you need me!” “I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.” “Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!” Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs. “Future First Lady.”

Well that's certainly a special role 😅

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?" Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

She's like: I already thought this all through, no worries

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

But she certainly does have great arguments 🤷🏻‍♀️ if someone would get me, a person that doesn't believe to much into marriage, to marry a person for strategic purposes it would certainly be Pepper 😅

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?” Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

Hahahah😂

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.” “I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.” His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

Meeting Sam first is probably even better, he is a great wingman 😉

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

This is good sign

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

🥹🥹🥹

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

Well, fair 😅

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?" "Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.” You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

🤭🤭🤭

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

Getting a pep talk by Sam Wilson, the Captain America does just that 👏🏻

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

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

Content/Warnings: none

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

Prologue | Series

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

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

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

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

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

“Future First Lady.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

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

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

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

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

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

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

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

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

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

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

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

[jesswritesthat]

can i request a kuroo x reader where reader is bokuto’s sib? that would be so funny and how would he act towards them? and HOW BOKUTO WOULD REACT AT THIS😭😭 love yaa

A/N: omg I love this idea!!!

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Dating Bokutos’ Sibling Headcanons:

• Ironically Bokuto was the one to introduce you to Kuroo, and he would never have shown you off so proudly if he could predict the future.

Alas - you walked into a busy Fukurōdani Group Training Camp during their second year equipped with a bento box and a string of curses.

“See how amazing my family is Rooster hair? My biggest fan brings me lunch!” Bokuto slings an arm around your shoulder beaming with grateful pride.

“Ugh, yeah yeah. I figured you’d need energy and I wanted to see Akaashi too…” You retort, looking for your fellow first year in the gym.

• Bokuto issued you an expression of feigned hurt, hand on his chest and putting you at arms length as he hunched over.

“You wound me!”

“If that’s all it takes, I need to take notes.” The Nekoma player commented, this leaving Bokuto barking back at him before returning to ‘normalcy’.

“Anyway, this is my wonderful sibling (Y/n) and this is Kuroo Tetsurō. A middle blocker for Nekoma.”

“Nice to meet you Kuroo.”

“Likewise.”

• It was meant to be left at that, and each of you involved in that situation would’ve agreed too. Except, you found that the way he matched your wit magnetic, and how he’d join you when teasing Bokuto became a highlight of your time spent at the camp.

• Akaashi had noticed it too, addressing it rather bluntly since he was the one you lingered around most often.

“You and Kuroo-san get along well.”

“I know, he’s kinda cool. I’m glad I got to met players from other teams, no wonder Kōtarō likes these training camps so much.”

“You’re right, they are fun.” He’d dismissed is as friendly acquaintances. For now.

• It wasn’t until the next practice match between Fukurōdani and Nekoma that you saw Kuroo again (and you’d ensured to come by the gym before the match to see them). This time warmly greeting each other like friends rather than strangers. A ritual that continued very time Nekoma were involved in Volleyball events.

• It’s near the end of second year that Bokuto finally started to notice, this wasn’t how ‘just friends’ acted. Your brother was oblivious to this stuff usually, which is why it had taken an interaction longer to catch on, but when it came to you he was more observant with such things.

• It’s written in the way Kuroo leans in to listen to you; how you refill his and Kenmas bottles; that you seem to be laughing together more often than not; and in the way you look at each other. It incurs a narrowed analytic gaze from the Fukurōdani Ace.

• When you felt hands clasp your shoulders and steeer you away with an intimidating undertone to his upbeat voice, you figured he was on to your little crush.

“I’m taking (Y/n) away rooster hair, my sibling and I have things to discuss. Don’t we?”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah, you’re damn right.”

• Golden eyes boared into you intently as if expecting you to spill all your secrets, Akaashi also present to such painful tactics.

“This isn’t going to work Bokuto-san.”

“Give it time Akaashi! I‘ve been unbeatable since we were kids.” The Ace dismissed, not breaking stern eye contact with you.

“Kōtarō, you’re an idiot.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Oh nothing about Kuroo hm? That scheming bastard not charming enough huh?”

“Yes he— I mean no— argh this is so unfair!”

“HAHA! See, told you I’d get ‘em.” Bokuto smugly nudged Akaashi who looked far too tired for your sibling antics right now.

• Well at least you’ll only see each other at volleyball events, which aren’t too frequent to build on. Especially a long as Bokuto lives and breathes.

“I got his number.”

“YOU WHAT?!” He’s dramatically shaking your shoulders as of its going to realign your senses.

“He — gave — number — in touch.”

“I’ll spike his stupid face!”

“You’d do that anyway.”

“Not the point (N/n)! I’ll do it 100x harder now!” It was rather eccentric, but you’d like to think he would actually commit to such a thing ‘purposefully’.

• So your secrets out. Bokuto isn’t happy about it. And Akaashi is the embodiment of Switzerland but with more conspiracy.

Oh you want a moment to talk to Kuroo without Bokuto knowing? He’ll distract him. Bokuto can’t supervise all the time? Akaashi is monitoring Kuroos interactions.

• However you manage to meet up in Tokyo without the pretences of volleyball games or training camps. It’s purely to see one another and through this developing friendship, and with each outing creating a level of comfort, it was natural for the flirty banter to start.

• Such a tiptoe game preceded to their third year, and it became dangerously obvious that the pair of you had a thing for each other but neither of you had acted on it. At first Bokuto was relieved and eager to pettily drag you away whenever the opportunity arose. But now he’d kind of understood that the growing feelings were more genuine than he’d originally assumed.

• It’s still a surprise when Kuroo charismatically pulls him away to an empty gymnasium after training, only to take a more awkward and serious tone when the nerves set in.

“Bokuto, you know you’re one of my best friends right?”

“Yeah man, but I’m not into you that way.”

“Woah, you wish frosty tips.” Kuroo breathed out with a smirk, more at ease thanks to that remark. “I was gonna ask for you blessing as lame as that sounds.”

“Eh? What for?”

“To ask (Y/n) on a date…”

That’s when the humour tainting his expression fades, when the amber in his eyes burn, and the muscles of his crossed arms tense up.

“I see.”

• It takes you a moment to grasp the situation too, of Tetsurō actually asking you to hang out with him after the camp ends - with the specificity of it being a date this time. It doesn’t take long for you to accept, even if you did tease him a little.

“Has becoming Captain made you braver?”

“Oya, I asked before you did (Y/n). Let alone the fact you couldn’t resist my offer~”

• Kuroo finds the situation the easiest to deal with you think, he acts natural even if he is a bundle of nerves underneath it all. His existing relationship with Bokuto and teasing personality make it easier to adjust to. Although sometimes you’ll over hear conversations between the two.

“Thanks for asking rooster hair. Anyway… how’s (Y/n)?” Bokuto asks, slightly more apprehensive than their previous conversation about teams.

“Happy I hope, though I annoyed them the other day - ate the last snack from the packet.” Kuroo snickered, only for Kōtarō to cut in.

“Yeah? You should try taking a bunch of photos, that really gets to (Y/n).”

“Hey?! Don’t help him!” You shout down.

• It amused you in the beginning, one specific time when Kuroo came to your door to pick you up only to find an expectant Bokuto.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. I can’t possibly allow my beloved sibling—”

“I have fried chicken.” Kuroo held up a warm takeout bag, conniving smirk in place.

“Deal, take ‘em wherever you want.”

“Kōtarō?!” You explained, your brother accepting the food without a second thought and ushering you toward the door.

“Eh? You haven’t bribed me in a while, rooster hair is my favourite right now. Out you go, don’t keep the man waiting.”

• They also go shopping together whenever it’s a celebration that involves you. They gladly put yen together for a big gift, or give one another recommendations - yet act completely innocent about it when you call them out on it.

• Sometimes you even feel like you’re third wheeling if Tetsurō visits the Bokuto household, their bromance truly was one of a kind. Though you didn’t mind, grateful that your brother and boyfriend got along so well.

• Bokuto still had that big brother protectiveness though and Kuroo was a scheming bastard when exploiting it. He’d playfully kiss you or show affection in front him - Kōtarō immediately pulling you into him with a look of utter disgust.

“How dare you lay your hands on (Y/n)?”

“Kou, he’s my boyfrie—“

“He knows what he did!”

• Overall it’s a positive experience, and it feels like Kuroo is already apart of the family due to the connections you each already share. They both make the effort to ensure you are happy when they can, and keep in touch fairly often. To be honest your certain they let the other know if your in a bad mood… so much for loyalty y’know?

• However, one thing you haven’t discovered yet, is that when Kuroo asked for Bokutos’ blessing, he readily accepted.

“I see.”

A look of contemplation, and then a beaming smile.

“Finally man! Course you have my blessing bedhead, I can tell you care about (Y/n) and would protect them like I would. Plus I know they’d be happy.”

“Thanks Bokuto, I’ll give it my best if they accept.”

“You better. Else I’ll kill you.” This was sinister, it was that deranged look he got when lost in a match, the one before the most earsplitting spikes - suddenly replaced with his usual carefree grin.

“Whatcha waiting for huh? Get out there and ask (Y/n)!”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[pomefioredove]

wait wait wait, your requests are open for noble bell for this weekend only? (if i got that right?!) sound perfect gimme 14 of em. anywhos if i did not getting the date wrong i have one! and if i i did please just let me shrivel up and die, thank you.

post college rollo and reader who live together as “roommates.” they’re 100% more than roommates and everyone can see it but them. rollo is probably some senator or something and insisted reader moves in with him cause he insists that since he’s making laws more just for magicless people there’s literally no where safer for them to be. just basically some domestic fluff with two people who act like they’re married and don’t even realize it. i personally think it would be way cuter to read from the perspective of a third party but if you’re willing to write this you can do it anyway anyhow and i’ll still be happy. thank you! <3

(if i got the weekend wrong i will absolutely die so please let me down gently, i am accoustic so i no no understand very basic things such as “this weekend” or “next saturday” if the day of the week is before a saturday)

oooh a bit of a future au... this is cute

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ and they were roommates

type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda written from a 3rd perspective

Rollo Flamme's favoritism had never been a secret.

He might have been quiet, reserved, repressed beyond all reason, but there were some things even he couldn't hide behind his star-spotted handkerchief.

The very moment you arrived at Noble Bell College, you were his.

Rollo Flamme beheld you with a sort of reverence that could be called sacrilegious. That is to say, one had never seen idolatry until one had seen the way he looked at you, the way he touched you as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he could break you with an unclean hand and a breath.

His coldness and cordiality towards the others never changed.

For all your kindness, your smiles, your gentle touches upon his cheek that he would never have let anyone else give, you could not change him. And you did not try.

It was a tragedy in two parts.

Not that it mattered, of course. Not to you.

As far as you were concerned, the world began and end with each other. In a room full of people, mages and scholars and royalty, Rollo Flamme would still only look at you.

Nothing was confirmed. Your affection for one another was kept to lingering touches and burning glances across the long, morose hallways of Noble Bell.

If anyone had asked, and they certainly did, Rollo's handkerchief would come to sit over his mouth and he would remind them that gossip is unbecoming.

And to be decent, thank you.

Yet the rumors could never be smothered, and they lingered after Rollo's first graduation, and another, and to his seat on the Fleur City Council.

You lived with him.

You lived with him, in his family home.

And he would continue to deny anything romantic, giving the same excuse that he had since Noble Bell, that you simply had no one else to look after you, and it was his duty as a civil servant to see to your care.

Which was utter bullshit.

But, perhaps, bullshit that you both believed.

Outside of the council, it was rare to see him alone. When he went out, he went out with you. When he attended public events, you walked by his side. When he worked at home, you sat in his study, by the fireplace, as if you had always belonged there. With him.

Rollo would excuse himself from small talk and after-hour business like so:

"It's been lovely talking to you, Senator, but I'll be late for dinner,"

"Please, come by my office first thing tomorrow morning. I'm expected at home,"

"I'll have to be going, now. I have an excursion on the town tonight. With whom? Well, whom else?"

It became widely accepted, amongst his colleagues and the public, that Rollo Flamme was married. One might not have guessed, of course, from his cold demeanor, but rumors of the magicless alumni from Noble Bell that he so adored smoldered.

Rollo did not concern himself with the whispers or the knowing looks his colleagues gave each other, until a warm day in late March where a well-meaning secretary from another branch asked if he had any children.

"Children?" he had scoffed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

The poor secretary looked like he had seen a ghost. "Well... you're married, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not. What gave you such an idea?"

And he seemed reluctant to answer.

Rollo had gone home that night with much on his mind. When you asked him if anything had happened at the council, he said "Nothing eventful".

To Rollo, who had lived in Fleur City, lonely yet not alone, for so many years without a kindling of friendship and not a thought on romance, he had never once questioned your relationship. You were his companion. His first, and last. That's all that matters.

Isn't it?

He could ask for nothing more than you. Your voice, your smile, your hands and warmth mingling with his. He was happy with you. Your friendship is enough for him.

Isn't it?

Despite what he tells himself, that night, when you sit close to him in front of the fire, reading a book he recommended simply because he recommended it, Rollo finds himself looking at you twice as much as usual.

He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, and you stay there, as if you had always belonged there. With him.