#i feel like this would reveal a lot about them

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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[stellar-solar-flare]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Content/Warnings: none

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

Prologue | Series

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

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

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

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

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

“Future First Lady.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

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

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

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

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

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

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

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

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

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

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

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

[choccy-zefirka]

Emergency Follow-Up Book Club Meeting

[Won't really make sense if you don't read Part 1 first, but Tumblr will hide this post if I add a link, so search "book club" on my blog]

Attending: Bellara, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Davrin, Taash, Emmrich, Rook

Book: Adventures of Dolor the Daring, Volume 49, by I. L. Literatus Evaraas Mercar (Rook)

Notes taken by: Neve (Bellara was too overexcited to hold a quill)

Notes:

Important preface: This will likely be the serial’s last volume ever to be published. According to the paper sellers and my own sources, there is currently a lot of public outrage around the scene where Dolor gets hit by an enemy mage’s ice spike and, aside from wounding them for dramatic suspense, it also shatters a glamor amulet around their neck, revealing that they were not a human, but a Qunari all along. Reactions from (human) readers have included, to my knowledge: verbose letters to the publisher decrying the serial’s “forced diversity” in character backgrounds, as apparently it was already bad enough that the supporting cast is “teeming” with elves and dwarves; threats to the author as an “agent of the Qun” trying to “falsely paint their kind in a positive light”; laments from anguished mothers that their children will now think that the “oxmen” are all friendly heroes (I would point out that children have no business reading crime serials in the first place, but we know there’s no stopping a particularly determined twelve-year-old with a yearning to see a throat slit); and even high-brow critical essays insisting that Dolor has so far proven themselves to be far too quick-witted and intelligent to be a Qunari.

Rook opened the meeting by going over all of the above; which, according to them, was precisely what they feared when they picked up writing as a hobby. “It didn’t take you too long to figure out that Dolor’s adventures are based on my own,” they said, looking at me specifically (they did not seem angry, at least; though I suspect that Rook has trained their facial muscles not to betray them when they are angry, to put humans at ease). “But do I look like someone these adventures might happen to? In most people’s eyes, at least?”

Bellara and Harding disrupted the meeting to give Rook a hug.

Taash further disrupted the meeting with an offer to beat up every qalaba that made them feel like this. Lucanis supported them and volunteered his services to do it “more elegantly but also more permanently”. The offer was appreciated, but graciously declined.

Davrin asked if Rook regretted revealing Dolor’s true identity. Rook said they did not, and added that it was not a revelation, but a last-minute twist, which never would have happened if it were not for us. “I have been avoiding your book clubs because I was so embarrassed about my little secret… But it turns out I never had to hide it. Not from you.”

BEL, I CAN SEE YOU LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER. I AM NOT GETTING SENTIMENTAL. I AM JUST KEEPING AN ACCURATE RECORD!

Harding said that she found Dolor’s sendoff to be “quite lovely”, and in her mind, they are still out there, fighting evil mages on the streets of Tevinter as their true self, with their friends by their side.

Bellara stopped trying to contain herself and erupted into enthusiastic gushing about the final scene, where the heroes get a moment to breathe as the villain is dragged away by a very Rana-like templar, and the mage Flosculus gently tends to Dolor’s wounds. In the previous volume, Dolor assumed that their feelings for Flosculus were not reciprocated, and decided to bottle them up. This volume still ends before the two can have an open conversation — but the delicate touches of the healer’s glow-infused hands all across Dolor’s bandaged torso, and the soft whispers asking them to tell him where it hurts “had more spice than the one romance we read that made Lucanis walk out of the room in a straight line”.

I am inclined to agree.

Emmrich laughed at no, that would be too mean-spirited; let’s say, was very amused by Bellara’s stumbling over the word “spice” and told her, “You can say eroticism, dear. That was the intent, after all.”

Rook has quite a few vitiligo spots on their otherwise slate-grey face, and that makes it a little more obvious when blood rushes to their cheeks. Which it certainly did in that moment — as they admitted the healing scene was Emmrich’s idea, and they merely “did their best” to commit it to paper.

To which Emmrich said, “And you described everything marvelously, my darling. I hope you know that all of us in this room are deeply grateful to you for sharing your work with us”.

I am also inclined to agree with that last part. But also, let it go on record that Emmrich held Rook’s hand while talking. If he ever blinks those big eyes at me again and claims that he had “no idea” everyone in the Lighthouse knew about him and Rook, I will just point to the evidence.

The meeting concluded with everyone reassuring Rook that, despite what happened to the Dolor serial, they should never stop writing. Harding even said, tearing up a little, that Varric would be proud. That made Rook blush again; are they finally beginning to process what happened? I cannot be certain.

Once we settled down, dice were rolled to choose the next book. It is Emmrich’s turn now.

Taash begged him, with a groan, not to choose any of the “thousand-page academic shit”. He protested that he has amassed “quite a collection of enjoyable romance stories” over the years — and took Rook’s hand in his again.

I see you, old man.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I ran here after your response to that musical!reader headcanon and the mention of Jekyll and Hyde has me SWOONING.

I saw a local production where the woman playing Lucy went out into the audience during "Bring On The Men" and flirted with people, she even sat down on her friend's lap!

What if musical!reader did that to Viktor 🤭

OH MY G O D THATS SO COOL???

Viktor would DIE. Like actually just pass way. Stop breathing and ascend to the next plane of existence. Glorious Evolution TM.

Viktor is usually very appreciative of music. It's similar to mathematics, in many ways, equations of numbers and notes put together for a new and unique sounding result. He does enjoy theater as well from time to time: it requires a lot of practice, experience, trial and error... by that logic, musical theater should be an art form just as objectively interesting in his eyes.

If what you're doing on stage right now is musical theater, though, he's having a VERY hard time staying objective about it.

It's nothing short of dirty. From the corset that hugs your waist and reveals way too much of your generous chest, to the way you're spreading your legs invitingly for the entire audience to see, everything about you screams sex. He's absolutely transfixed, incapable of looking away from the way your hands touch your own body to the beat of the invisible orchestra.

He's only pulled away from the moment when some students a few seats away start loudly whistling and whooping for your attention, like this is a strip club and not a college play.

THAT'S when he starts to get mad.

He's suddenly very aware of the fact that there's about a hundred other people in the room, students and faculty members, watching the same performance he is. How many of them will imagine you in their bed tonight? How many of them are imagining you in their lap right now?

The smile on your lips speak louder than a thousand words: you're enjoying this, the thrill of the stage, the eyes undressing you while you sing your pretty little song about getting fucked by nameless strangers. Even worse, he's certain you're taking pleasure in knowing he's got front row seats for it, that you've effectively got him powerless and chained down while you're giving a show he should be the only one witnessing.

You've flipped over your roles as student and teacher, and now, he's the one who has to sit silently and drink every word from your lips. It's devilishly clever.

He would be genuinely impressed if he wasn't burying his nails into his cane with one hand and trying to cover the tent in his dress pants with the other.

The projector suddenly moves; it follows you as you're going down the few stairs from the stage to the floor, heels sharp against the concrete floor.

So lets bring on the men

And let the fun begin

Your eyes finally meet his. They're filled with bright sparkles from the stage lights, teasing and provoking. Tauntingly asking if he's ready for what's next, when you both know he doesn't have a say in the matter. The show must go on.

'Ah, shit' is the only thing that comes across his mind before you sit on his lap, the spotlight blinding him.

A little touch of sin

Why wait another minute?

Your movements are calculated and precise, applying just enough pressure on his clothed cock for you to feel how hard he is, without granting him any relief. The audience cheers; he thinks he's having an aneurism.

You bat your mascara heavy eyelashes at him, abandoning the play for a triumphant instant. 'See?' he can almost hear you say. 'I knew I'd get your attention eventually. What's your next move, professor?'

Oh, he is going to make you regret this.

[emmebearpaw]

I love coming up with ideas for AUs and even love thinking about writing them. Got an idea for a fake genshin major event, you know, like the big story event of a version, and I want it to be a sequel to Roses and Muskets, where now Inazuma is having a film festival. I don’t have the cast 100% shaken out, but I know the genres for the, get this, not one but Two movies we hear about during the event.

Kaiju. Specifically in the sense that Kaiju are a great way to talk about a cultural anxiety. The thought of this event came from talking with @awellreadmannequin about another idea for a new world boss quest, so the kaiju in this event are both based on world bosses.

To start the event the traveler would get a letter from Xavier saying he’s filming a new movie in tandem with the Kamisato clan in Inazuma for Inazuma’s upcoming cross cultural film festival and he want to know if the traveler would like to help out on set again. He has an actual budget this time, and a full crew and actors and there is no murder investigation on. And I want the film to feature the Maguu Kenki as a representation of the shogunate during the events of the AQ (hereby referred to as the civil war). The Maguu Kenki is a good representation of what I described as the “upending sense of stability” I think occurred during the war, a desperate, forceful attempt to make everything stay still. I don’t know the full cast for this movie but Gorou/Miss Hina should be in it because Xavier thought it relevant to include someone from Watatsumi to play the stand in character represented them and Kokomi is not available to go act in a movie.

while Xavier feels he’s doing a good job at including Watatsumi, however, I think the script should reveal something different. Because the character Gorou/Miss Hina plays is honestly more of a hindrance to the protagonists (who are stand ins for the yashiro backed Narukami based resistance movement or stand ins for the yashiro commission themself), and, really, there is a vibe that if totally not Watatsumi had not been attempting to “politically maneuver” their way to an advantageous end state for peace negotiations and instead just worked as another arm of the Narukami resistance the civil war would have ended way faster. They don’t even seem that instrumental to the resolution. More a noisy, and unruly distraction that does ultimately help the protagonists.

“This seems like a biased retelling of the archon quest”

Yes. It is. For you see, I mentioned at the very beginning that the Kamisato clan themselves are funding this movie. Of course it’s going to paint them in a better light. It would be more subtle in a full movie than in a highlight summary, but, the movie portrays the Yashiro commission as the ultimate good guys.

And with this, Gorou/Miss Hina should get into an argument with Xavier and ultimately walk off the production. Potentially with other people, obviously I need to add some Fontaine characters to this plot but like I said I don’t have a full cast list.

But I think he’s not done with movies, I think Watatsumi island should in turn sponsor a Kaiju movie of their own. This one less about gross abuses of power and the military government of war time Inazuma and more about cultural assimilation. I’m going to be honest what you are about to read is going to be a lot of straight copy pasted from the conversation I had with Claire earlier.

I want the movie to start with a game of chess to represent the war. Like. A whole game of chess. I don’t know how to play chess, and it should be chess and not go.

the kokomi stand in should be playing against the sara stand in and then sara should suddenly be switched to the ayato stand in. watatsumi is playing white and is playing trying to take minimal casualties, trying to protect pawns and knights and other expendable pieces. Narukami's side should seemingly be able to bring out pieces that were already taken down, they have the supplies to field more troops, they don't have to play as cautious with them. When the king is taken the kokomi stand in should be removed from the scene. the camera pans up from the board and they are just not there. they aren't in the movie again. the ayato stand in shakes the air's hand and congratulates nobody on how well they played.

during the game, they should be doing the exposition / negotiations that explain how the new Orobashi ends up on Watatsumi. Because that’s the bulk of the film, in a world where Watatsumi lost the war and entered into a less favorable agreement with the Narukami government, they are given a baby Ruin Serpent as prize for their cooperation. This Ruin Serpent is posed as a new Orobashi, given so that the people know their new government cares about their culture and beliefs. And I think the Orobashi is hungry, and at first watatsumi is also showered with other gifts for accepting their prize (why are they given gifts for that, you may ask), and those gifts make it easy to take care of the Orobashi, but its hungry and it has specific requests and people to take care of it (these people tend to disappear) and slowly, slowly they come to realize that while Watatsumi island is fixed and repaired from the war (at the beginning the island should be shown in ruin), there isn't a single person left on Watatsumi anymore. Which is supposed to represent how physically the people of Watatsumi island may benefit from a merge, culturally they would disappear.

or at least that’s my first draft of the plot. Anyways, traveler and paimon are recruited to work on the new play because they will work for peanuts. Paimon gets to be cameraman and the traveler is constructing/operating the ruin serpent puppet/body suit.

they should take this film to the festival and lose. With audiences stating it lacks action, the end is unsatisfying or they just don’t get it.

Xavier’s film should win the festival.

I have a few more thoughts on this but it’s very late and I can include them in the morning.

[shiraoyagi]

just to give my 2 cents (not that it particularly matters), but i honestly disagree with this because it requires a hierarchical view of relationships which i don't think applies well to vbs (and is frankly, amatonormative, but that's a whole other tangent i won't go on here)

they do all care about each other equally. they just care about their partners in a different way from their teammates. the relationships are different, but one is not more significant than the other; especially when we get into specifics.

(event spoilers below, i labeled them in the tags)

for example, you made the statement that only an's singing will make kohane's heart pound, but this is not true. in fact, during kohane5, we are treated to this scene:

(tls by lozy bug, this is from chapter 6 of over rad squad)

there's also the fact that in main story, kohane showed incredible amounts of concern for akito and touya and did everything she could to help them even when she was under the impression that they sabotaged her and an. there's also akito supporting an in various events, the fact that in akito3, she was the one to give him the dream of "surpassing rad weekend" rather than just "i want to put on a good event like that", and the implication he wanted to team up with her during vbs main story. there's also touya seeing himself in kohane in main story and touya1, and her hard work trying to compose in touya3 giving him the boost he needed to continue composing. there's akito going from making jabs at kohane early on to wholeheartedly supporting her in kohane3; when an barely could— and he noticed that in resonant town and was still there to support her through her insecurities. there's even an4, where akito made it blatantly clear he trusted an to keep singing with them— where it was made clear that all of vbs trusted an to keep fighting, no matter what. there's kohane4, where touya was pulling the rest of them along in spite of all the backlash they faced. there's an5, where both akito and touya did everything they could to help her with her feelings towards kohane; and especially touya, who couldn't bear to see an repeat the same mistakes he did in main story— not just because their team relies on it, but because he undeniably cares about her.

this doesn't even account for earlier events, like akito1, where everyone was concerned for akito (not just touya), and i failed to mention that kohane's main conflict in kohane3 is the fact that she doesn't want to hurt akito by messing up a solo at crawl green, the livehouse he has trauma at (and even if she never learned the specifics, she clearly can empathize with it, especially with what happened to her in main story). i can list a lot more examples (like touya's an2 card story revealing that he has been worried about an this whole time up until an5, but akito wouldn't tell him anything because an was only comfortable coming to him and not touya or things like akito fes, an fes, mixed events, and other card stories) but we'd be here forever.

vbs does have two duos, yes. their partnerships are very important to their lore, and i don't think they should be undermined (and frankly i hate when people do that).

HOWEVER, i also don't think it's fair to treat the friendships they've made with their teammates as something "less important" to these characters just because the partners tend to be more openly affectionate with each other. all of them would be miserable if they weren't a team and were just still duos, if you think about it rationally. kohane would have no one to challenge her as an equal, an wouldn't have anyone to comfort her and then push her into talking with kohane, while akito and touya would likely be permanently broken up without the interference of a sekai (which only exists BECAUSE vbs are meant to be a team; that's their true feelings), and none of them would surpass rad weekend; because they'd never get the growth that they needed from each other.

anyways please don't take my argument personally, i just wanted to add my own thoughts, so i'm sorry in advance if this makes you uncomfortable

Each time someone claims that *insert VBS character* cares about their team the same as their partner, I explode. Yes, they are not *just* two duos, they're a team, but they're still two duos. Akito will care more about Toya than both Kohane and An. Only An's singing will make Kohane's heart pound. Toya won't sing without Akito. Only Kohane will be able to make An feel such strong feelings of both adoration and inferiority.

They can care about their teammates but value their partner more.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I think WME will keep her until she finally releases the ARO products and see if some brands are interested to partner with her, that’s why I think they are helping her with the ‘positive’ bots and lots of likes in some posts (the full PR). I think they believe the show can be life-opportunity changers. Do I believe it will be very successful!? Nop, but I think it can open some doors at least with mid-brands. But it has been very curious to see that she signed with them almost 2 years ago, and nothing BIG has arrived to her, so maybe this is the new strategy from them: gashlight people how adorable she is and she isn’t attacking people anymore and to show they brands she left the toxicity behind. I doubt they can achieve much (since many are calling her out for being fake and not being able to read the room since are accusing her of making her target audience other rich people)

But it’s honestly so funny how they went from: we made deals with Netflix and Spotify because we needed money to pay security and we will be producing content that inspire and help the voiceless people to Polo and MM’s narc content.

See, I think the full IG and show on Netflix was expected, but it’s so hilarious that they stop pretending that they would be doing humanitarian content. They only do some ‘engagements’ here and there for their Archewell nonsense and for their ‘office website’ but most of the time it’s about Netflix and their self serving stupidity.

This was always Meghan's goal - to highlight herself and promote herself. Everything that has been "made" (The Bench, Archetypes, Harry & Meghan, the new show, her "official" return to social media, exclusive interviews to Oprah and The Cut, the awards they've bought, the NYT editorial, 40x40) has been about her and promoted her, front and center.

Any content that doesn't feature her, she makes it about her - Invictus Games, red carpet galas, secret birthday parties/vow renewals for friends, Spare. And any content where she can't make it about her? She pulls her support and launches a very heavy-handed tactical "poor me" defense that inserts her into the public narrative - Harry's lawsuits and the BRF, for example.

So the new Netflix show is nothing more than yet another entry in Meghan's narcissistic "it's all about me" show. She's just finally revealed the curtain obscuring the second half of her "it's about being in service to others" statement to reveal: it's about being in service to others because it makes me money and I look good.

Also, I can't believe I didn't pick up on this sooner but Meghan's new commentary that her show is about bringing joy back and making joy again? It's very reminiscent of Kamala Harris's/the Democratic Party's "politics of joy" strategy for the 2024 election. Now I'm not getting into politics and this is NOT inviting political commentary, but Meghan has never once spoken about "this is my era of joy" until after the Democratic Party coalesced around Harris's strategy of joy in late July.

And when did Meghan start talking about "her joy"? August 19, 2024, on her final day of Colombia. Almost a month after "joy" galvanized American social media trends and mainstream press. So putting on my tinhat, Meghan's new campaign for joy feels very much like her usual 'day late and a dollar short' crash onto the bandwagon.

But will it work for her? I don't think so. Because Meghan's joy comes from ego and narcissism. Not the actual enjoyment of things.

Look, I have no problem if Meghan finds joy in pretty flowers or baking cakes or hosting friends for special lunches. My problem is that she demands to be lauded for being kind enough to share that with us...which makes me wonder if she really finds joy in pretty flowers, baking cakes, and hosting friends for special lunches or if she finds joy in commercializing that for money, attenton, and headlines.

Because if she truly found joy in these things...it wouldn't be a Netflix show. She'd just be living her best life out there in Montecito, not caring a single thing about everything and anything else, and she certainly wouldn't be cosplaying British Duchesses in long floral dresses.

[aychama]

I really can't wait for more of this story to come. The direction it's taking is interseting so far and especially the rival spouses- THE JEALOUSY. I enjoy reading your comic and the angst that's coming towards us like freaking tsunami at some point.

Im really curious about few things tho:

1- Since some animals show instincts (Narinder purring / Lambert's bull anger), do some people hibernate/sleep in winter? Do bat-folk sleep during night and wake up during morning?

2- Does your world has those lesbian lizards? Like, the female only species?

3- Who is Mystic Seller in your au?

4- Will we see Forneus at some point? 👀

5- Your characters are mostly anthropomorphic but how does fish folk work?

Sorry if i asked too many. I'm just curious :^ Hope you have a great day :D

(Bide sey, dipnot gibi, bazen buraya daha fazla yazmak istiyorum çünkü gercekten hikayeni severek takip ediyorum ama bokunu çıkartmakta istemiyorum. Acaba sürekli yazsam rahatsız mı olursun diye :p)

Thank you so much!!! Eheh boy do I have things planned with Chelsea and Theo...

I reveal a lot of my plot on my twitch streams btw :3c

Anyways lets answer!

1- Since they are all really human looking (although i should design more animal-folk) I think giving them animal like behaviours would balance some stuff right? But lets add human elements to it!

So only the wealthy or people with relaxed jobs (like artists, musicians etc.) would get to hibernate, while the common folk needs to work. But I feel like most would be understanding of certain speacies becoming less active during those times!

2- All kinds of animal folk could exist in this world. But those from the arctic and the desert only live in Kallamar's kingdom because they come from outside the 5 kingdoms with ships.

3- Havent thought about mystic seller yet

4- Yes! Forneus is the duchess of the strongest family in Narinder's kingdom and she fully supports Narinder.

5- Aquatic-folk and flying-folk would have like diffrent and stronger lungs.

Aquatic-folk can always live in both the land and in the water (most prefer land)

Flying-folk, depending on the speacies, have wings for arms (birds) or wings on their back (bees).

All of the animal-folk can cross breed and the child would strongly result with the look of one parent while having some little aspects of the other parent. (Lets think it like a beetle x dog = a fluffy beetle or a dog with beetle fangs or horns)

Even tho it is not forbidden to cross-breed, its mostly looked down upon so they arent that common.

(Hiç rahatsız olmuyorum merak etme 😌)

[infiniteeight8]

Okay, two feels like a reasonable number of prompts to start with. (Right? Right.) Another continuation... this one was angst, but while it may be too quick to make it to fluff it could at least start healing? Maybe?

Continuation to Stephen disappearing on Tony and Tony tracking him down. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55451326)

Tony doesn’t exactly rush back to his hotel. Now that he’s confronted Stephen, he’s got nothing to do but sit there and obsess over what might happen next. So he takes his time, wanders Kathmandu for a while. He’s never actually been here before. There aren’t too many places he can say that about, these days. 

When he does finally return to his room, Stephen is waiting for him.

The rush of relief he feels damn near makes him dizzy. As angry as he is—the yelling he’d done hadn’t relieved much of his anger—Tony still loves Stephen. He suspects he always will. Tony is prepared to leave, but he doesn’t want to.

He’s sure as hell going to make Stephen work for it, though.

Closing the door behind himself, Tony waits silently. Stephen looks up at him from where he’s sitting on the bed. “I used to think I understood, you know,” Stephen says. “How you felt after Afghanistan, I mean. I thought I understood.” He shakes his head. “I was wrong. I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to understand what it’s like to have one of the foundations on which they’ve built their entire personality ripped away until it happens.” 

Stephen looks down at his hands, stretching out his fingers and examining them for a minute before meeting Tony’s gaze again. “I didn’t intend to leave you. I didn’t think about you at all. I was only thinking about myself.”

“Not making a great case for yourself, here,” Tony says, throat tight.

“I could give you pretty words,” Stephen replies. “I thought the truth would serve us better.”

If he’s telling the truth, there’s one Tony wants most of all: “Why hide?”

“I thought you’d drag me home.” Stephen snorts. “How could I tell you I was chasing a literal miracle cure? I assumed once I knew if it was a sham or not, you’d be waiting.”

“And I assumed that you’d never abandon me,” Tony says. “I guess we were both wrong.”

“This place tore apart a lot of my assumptions,” Stephen stands and crosses the space between them, “and revealed something remarkable on the other side. Maybe the same can be true for us.”

Tony swallows hard. “You’ve got a lot of trust to rebuild.”

“I know.” Stephen holds out a hand, scarred and trembling. He hasn’t let Tony touch his hands even once since his accident. “Come with me? I think I have to start with showing you Kamar-Taj properly.”

Tony takes his hand very carefully. 

For both their sakes.

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

The boy was busy trying to get the attention of even more Chocobos – and somehow that worked without him waving some treats over the fence. He was in bliss.

All while the Princess revealed part of her family story that probably was an open secret in the farmlands. But Somnus did not know about. He knew about the horrible killing of a former king of the farmlands, but he had not been privy to the details of it. It had been shrouded in mystery by the lands reaction – erecting walls not only around their castle but seemingly around everything that concerned their home.

There were details in Aerith’s telling that Somnus noted down in quiet surprise.

She and the boy were not full siblings. That blond king was not her biological father. There were a lot more complicated matters in that family than they let on. Well. It seemed like both Cetra and Lucii families had their more or less hidden secrets…

That fact did not matter, what mattered was the fact that it sounded like Aerith and Roran led a life in a gilded cage. Locked up and hidden behind walls. Because there were evil people. Because healers were too valuable… Something that Somnus had scoffed at yesterday – but now he realized that his actions by the cliffs… had been less than optimal in this case.

Now it made more sense… and he could feel a bit of shame bubbling in his chest.

Bowing his head down for a moment, he had to haggle with how he was supposed to react to this revelation. Pity? Ridicule? Ignorance? No... because as it seemed in some cases they had more in common than either of them expected. And Somnus would not want any of these reactions for himself.

His fingers dug into Alba’s white feathers and when Somnus looked to Aerith again, he had the hint of a smile playing around his lips.

“Do you want to go for a ride now? I count as a shield wall.”, he suggested. And it was not even a lie. He could procure a shield from thin air. He carried an arsenal of weapons at his beck and call, procuring them from thin air. He fought like a small army all on his own. And he had experience.

“You can have Alba, she seems to like you and… well, your brother can pick whichever of the flock, as it seems.”

Aerith didn't know what she anticipated, but the gentle fussing made laughter bubble up from her chest. She would happily be regarded like a chocobo chick by such a sweet lady. Straightening her posture, she offered her hand for Alba to consider, and only when she had permission did she reach to sweetly fuss at the feathers beneath her beak.

If there's one lesson she remembered from her Uncle, it was the lesson on how to make a chocobo practically purr.

Blinking, her attention was stolen back to Prince Somnus who seemed to be having a crisis. It made her lips part a little — and she listened as he continued on, unable to grasp how they lived their lives or why.

By the end her lips pursed into a sympathetic kind of smile. She wasn't looking down her nose at him, not in the slightest. But clearly he was a man who lived with many freedoms in his life. It was like watching him as a bird but his wings were clipped. He simply couldn't understand what life would be.

"When I was born, something happened in our kingdom. You would have heard about it." Aerith hinted, not going into great detail with Roran in earshot. "Afterwards, my mother became extremely protective. That actually marks when the walls around our palace were erected. We used to only have the old wall, you can see it -" not everyone cared for architecture. She had to shake her head to rattle those thoughts out. "Anyway, somehow our father did the impossible. He met our mother, they fell in love, against all the odds they came together, and with him there is some calming when it comes to... all of the rules."

Honestly, the first time she stepped outside the palace walls had been when she was 7-years-old. "We don't step outside those walls unless we have enough guards to form a shield wall." That was not an exaggeration. "There have been too many attempts... I don't know if it's because people hate Cetra, or they have a weird obsession with what we could do for them. It doesn't matter really. The end result is the same. We don't take rides, we don't take walks, we don't get our heads free of rules and responsibilities because it's too dangerous."

[waitineedaname]

there is so much comedic potential for cumplane making modern references only they understand. I want sqh to make a homestuck reference, and sqq lunges across the table to strangle him

[juney-blues]

meat roxy is so funny because that whole thing is indicative of how homestuck is such a deeply transfem story that if you try picking a random character out of a hat to make transmasculine it's basically a coin flip as to whether you're overwriting a transfem narrative of some kind (and it's extra funny because the writers just so happened to roll Snake Eyes, Two Ones, critical failure, and did it to the character with perhaps the most blatant transfem coding of all time that just so happens to beautifully enhance her entire arc)

[skrunksthatwunk]

actually i'm still thinking about the moral orel finale.

he has a cross on his wall. do you know how much i think about that bc it's a lot.

a lot of stories ((auto)biographical or fictional) centering escape from abusive/fundamentalist christianity result in the lead characters leaving behind christianity entirely. and that makes complete sense! people often grow disillusioned with the associated systems and beliefs, and when it was something used to hurt them or something so inseparable from their abuse that they can't engage with it without hurting, it makes total sense that they would disengage entirely. and sometimes they just figure out that they don't really believe in god/a christian god/etc. a healthy deconstruction process can sometimes look like becoming an atheist or converting to another religion. it's all case by case. (note: i'm sure this happens with other religions as well, i'm just most familiar with christian versions of this phenomenon).

but in orel's case, his faith was one of the few things that actually brought him comfort and joy. he loved god, y'know? genuinely. and he felt loved by god and supported by him when he had no one else. and the abuses he faced were in how the people in his life twisted religion to control others, to run away from themselves, to shield them from others, etc. and often, orel's conflicts with how they acted out christianity come as a direct result of his purer understanding of god/jesus/whatever ("aren't we supposed to be like this/do that?" met with an adult's excuse for their own behavior or the fastest way they could think of to get orel to leave them alone (i.e. orel saying i thought we weren't supposed to lie? and clay saying uhhh it doesn't count if you're lying to yourself)). the little guy played catch with god instead of his dad, like.. his faith was real, and his love was real. and i think it's a good choice to have orel maintain something that was so important to him and such a grounding, comforting force in the midst of. All That Stuff Moralton Was Up To/Put Him Through. being all about jesus was not the problem, in orel's case.

and i know i'm mostly assuming that orel ended up in a healthier, less rigid version of christianity, but i feel like that's something that was hinted at a lot through the series, that that's the direction he'd go. when he meditates during the prayer bee and accepts stephanie's different way to communicate, incorporating elements of buddhism into his faith; when he has his I AM A CHURCH breakdown (removing himself from the institution and realizing he can be like,, the center of his own faith? taking a more individualistic approach? but Truly Going Through It at the same time), his acceptance (...sometimes) of those who are different from him and condemned by the adults of moralton (stephanie (lesbian icon stephanie my beloved), christina (who's like. just a slightly different form of fundie protestant from him), dr chosenberg (the jewish doctor from otherton in holy visage)). his track record on this isn't perfect, but it gets better as orel starts maturing and picking up on what an absolute shitfest moralton is. it's all ways of questioning the things he's been taught, and it makes sense that it would lead to a bigger questioning as he puts those pieces together more. anyway i think part of his growth is weeding out all the lost commandments of his upbringing and focusing on what faith means to him, and what he thinks it should mean. how he wants to see the world and how he wants to treat people and what he thinks is okay and right, and looking to religion for guidance in that, not as like. a way to justify hurting those he's afraid or resentful of, as his role models did.

he's coming to his own conclusions rather than obediently, unquestioningly taking in what others say. but he's still listening to pick out the parts that make sense to him. (edit/note: and it's his compassion and his faith that are the primary motivations for this questioning and revisal process, both of individual cases and, eventually, the final boss that is christianity.) it makes perfect sense as the conclusion to his character arc and it fits the overall approach of the show far better. it's good is what i'm saying.

and i think it's important to show that kind of ending, because that's a pretty common and equally valid result of deconstruction. and i think it cements the show's treatment of christianity as something that's often (and maybe even easily) exploited, but not something inherently bad. something that can be very positive, even. guys he even has a dog he's not afraid of loving anymore. he's not afraid of loving anyone more than jesus and i don't think it's because he loves this dog less than bartholomew (though he was probably far more desperate for healthy affection and companionship when he was younger). i think it's because he figures god would want him to love that dog. he's choosing to believe that god would want him to love and to be happy and to be kind. he's not afraid of loving in the wrong way do you know how cool that is he's taking back control he's taking back something he loves from his abusers im so normal

[fandom-only]

That part I mentioned is just one of the sub things about her character. Deep in the crevices that stuck with me after kick it up a notch. Just a little interesting footnote in her character that I cannot get rid of. (I've tried)

Also like, yeah, I think people focus on the inherit act of love that making shows and music have while a rap battle is more emotional and raw and less gentle in showing it. So they both have merits. But since VBS runs on more shonen logic in an idol game, I don't think people catch it as much.

If this was a duel match between the mentor who turned his back on the mentee, then people would see it differently. Which I won't say it is, but there are some similarities.

Actually the whole proseka has shonen tropes in some places, VBS just feels more apparent. There are legit rivals to allies stuff that's going on there.

Anyways back to the rap battle thing. There's less thought of love there compared to Niigo's making of music to save and WxS's making shows to spread joy to others and them raising their talents to achieve that.

This is absolutely a beat down they need so they need to get better. People can hate it all they want, but narratively they needed this. In story and out, they needed Taiga to break it down into this battle. So there's less act of love and more despair since a death just got revealed.

An actual death

Like I don't know dude, they made us attached to Nagi and then killed her off for plot reasons of course that's gonna stick more even if batshit insane stuff happens after. Either that's a good sign of story writing or a sign that the people that stick to it just has a thing about it.

Lutf just sticks to people for a lot of reasons. The reveal, the battle that breaks near everyone's motivation, fucking Caucasian destination. But I don't think VBS should be facing any scorn. It's damn good writing if the reveal is that impactful.

Also now that I think about it, I have to think about the classification that the other units should be put on. Uh, it's in tags

Sorry, I'm horrid at rambling

I've decided I'm gatekeeping Light Up the Fire from all the people who don't understand what Fiction means

[hylianane]

A big part of the Haikyuu rewatch is watching the characters interact and worrying that I fandomized their relationships too much in my head, particularly with the Karasuno first years because Hinata and Kags keep Yamaguchi and Tsukishima at arm’s length for so long. But then I remember. Oh wait the squad is literally Hinata’s phone background by the end of the story. You don’t put a picture of just some dudes in your after school club as your phone background.

[distractionpie]

So my personal feeling about BuckTommy fixit possibilities is that in an interesting repetition of BuckTaylor their last conflict is essentially a repeat of their first: they experience a moment where they aren't on the same page/going the same speed about the relationship and Tommy deals with that by walking away.

The first time, Buck resolves it by asking Tommy back out for coffee, explaining his feelings, and positioning himself as being caught up to where Tommy is at (the conflict was he wasn't out/didn't want to share the relationship before they'd even had one successful date, but now he's come out to Maddie and is willing to have Tommy as his wedding date in front of the rest of his social circle).

And to me that's why even though I do think Buck asking Tommy to move in was premature and poorly thought out, I think for a satisfying resolution it would have to be initiated by Tommy and show him actively wanting to discuss and work on the problem instead of giving up on Buck/the relationship as soon as things aren't running smooth. It's not about who is right or wrong, it's about if they can have a relationship they are both putting effort into and willing to make themselves vulnerable for, not just Buck once again trying to chase after and change himself for someone who won't meet him partway.