#been using this one as a warmup for several weeks before working on other stuff

[scienceviewscreen]

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Emoji, questionmark

Katya receives a special text from Natasha, who is very... appreciative of her muscles.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 3.1k • Warnings: suggestive • A/N: thank you so much for your patience as I took a bit of a break from writing! I hope to post more now :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

"Thanks again, Kat!"

The last of Katya's students left the training room, taking their water bottles and positive energy with them. 

It had been another good day at the women-only gym, and Katya lingered around to clean up, in no rush to get home. She looked up and smiled at the goodbye, giving a small wave to Sandra, who got more confident in her own skin every week. 

"Till next week!"

When the room was empty, Katya did a small lap around to look for any forgotten items or water spills, ending up where she started; at the portable speaker nestled in the corner. Her phone lay next to it, connected to the bluetooth device. 

Pulling the hair tie from her sweaty, oily hair, Katya picked it up. It unlocked to several missed messages from the last two hours—she rarely checked messages between classes, and not at all in classes. That's not the type of vibe she wanted to give off.

There were some notifications from her social media, a text from Laura thanking her for the flowers she sent for her and Clint's wedding anniversary, one from Maya saying she picked up cat food. 

And, of course, a text from her wife.

They were so… pathetically connected that they missed the other instantly when they were apart. 

Natasha had some errands to run in the city? Katya sat on the couch, sulking, anticipating her return. Katya was at work all day? Natasha texted her more often than usual about stuff that didn't matter in the slightest just because she was thinking about her the whole time. 

The only time they were ever fully at ease was when they were together. Maya made fun of them for it, but Katya was quick to point out that the past had given them enough reason to feel that way. Unexpectant time apart, years where they thought the other was dead. It left deep scars in their fragile hearts and separation anxiety in their stomachs.

For obvious reasons, Katya had message previews for Natasha's chats off, in case anyone needed to use her phone. She only saw what her wife texted her when she opened the chat. 

Katya snorted out loud in the empty room. Caught off guard by the embarrassed sound that came out of her own mouth, she quickly looked around, but the only one staring at her was the reflection of herself in the large mirror wall.

Smugness drew a smirk across her mouth, ego puffing out her chest. Natasha was the best hypewoman, even when her reasons were entirely selfish. Nobody loved Katya's physique more than her, and she made sure to let her know every chance she got, both verbal and non-verbal. The non-verbal worshipping was both their favorite. 

Natasha's message consisted of one emoji and one punctuation mark. Not an uncommon thing in itself. A food item with a question mark meant; can you pick this up, or can we have this for dinner? A cat or a ginger-haired girl with a question mark meant; where is the cat, and where is Maya? Any of those things with an exclamation mark meant; don't forget to pick it up. 

It was an important distinction. 

But there were no doubts on what Natasha meant this time. It was very, very clear what she wanted. Shamelessly too.

The flexed arm emoji combined with the question mark meant she was most probably horny, and most definitely mentally drifting.

Katya snickered as she locked and pocketed her phone, collecting the last of her stuff before closing the door of the training room behind her. Usually, she would head straight for the office or to the car, but now she took a detour to the machines. 

Smiling and greeting people, she did a few quick stretches before grabbing a set of weights. With no pre-workout taken, no warmup of any kind, she sat down and started a quick bicep and shoulder routine. 

The goal today wasn't to get a correct workout in. The goal was to pump her muscles so her wife could get her fix. 

She was barely sweaty by the time she stopped, but she had no patience to continue. By now, Natasha would have seen that she'd been left on delivered and would be waiting on what she asked for. The woman was a lot of things, but patient wasn't high up in that list. 

Katya was in and out of the machine room within fifteen minutes, hurrying to find a mirror before her hard work was lost. Luckily, there was another pro to an all-women gym: incredible bathroom lighting. None of that dark, mysterious stuff where you feel like you're in a cave. No, the mirrors on the walls were huge and lined with lights. 

Katya made sure the stalls were empty before propping her phone up on the sink, next to the gym-provided perfumes and deodorant. Quickly, she took her hoodie off and turned with her back to the camera, redoing her ponytail to ensure a maximal view of her shoulders and back.

It felt odd in the beginning to take pics like these, when Natasha first started asking for them. But Katya quickly found out that it wasn't very different from the nudes she sent her. Natasha found her sexy and hot no matter what pose or position she was in, as long as she could see what she wanted to see. Don't overthink it.

She snapped some pictures from different angles, capturing different muscle groups, and tried some new poses she found online from the fitgirls she followed. They didn't turn out amazing, but they would satiate Natasha for now. When footsteps approached the bathroom door, Katya hid the evidence of her activities by snatching her phone off the sink, but Brianna took one look at her and smiled knowingly.

"Documenting your progress?" She asked, picking the sink next to Katya's to wash her hands. Her hair wasn't in box braids this time, instead in a bun on the back of her head. She looked gorgeous whatever way she wore it. 

"They're not for me," Katya answered distractedly, flipping through the photos to pick the best ones, deleting some that were too mediocre. She had to admit, her body looked good.

"Ah." Brianna smirked, taking a quick peek at the phone screen. "What the wife wants, the wife gets."

"Exactly." Katya mirrored her expression and sent the three best pics off to Natasha without any context, then she pocketed her phone and turned to her boss. "I think this means I have to get home ASAP."

"Get some."

Katya snickered. "I think I will."

Natasha

Natasha had been feeling like this all day; clingy, needy. Usually, she was the first one out of bed in the mornings. Today, she wouldn't let Katya get up to go to work. It almost made her late.

These phases of hers came and went. One week, she followed Katya everywhere like a baby duck. The next, she sought out solitude in her office upstairs. 

They made it work no matter what mood she was in, but Natasha couldn't help but dread the moments she was alone when she felt clingy. With Maya at school, and no distractions, she started to think about stupid stuff, like if this was how it felt to be on your period. Emotional and needy. 

She just missed Katya. Like a dog misses its owner. She wanted hugs; a warm, strong body to nestle into. She wanted to be taken care of; for Katya to bring her tea and wrap a blanket around her. 

She would tell her all of this, but Natasha didn't like to bother her too much when she was at work. It was only eight hours, and she was a big girl. 

Nevertheless, after trying everything to put her mind off it, Natasha wound up looking through her camera roll for pictures of her wife. If anyone ever found or hacked her phone, they'd think she was a stalker. She had folders for everything, sorted alphabetically, and filled to the brim with pictures of Katya.

'Kat on holiday'. 'Family'. 'Kat doing stuff'. 'Kat candid pics'. Natasha even had a 'this is my wife'-folder, because she always managed to work Katya into any conversation and would then proudly show her off to anyone. This folder was filled with Katya's prettiest pictures. 

Natasha paused with her thumb hovering above the last folder, hidden at the bottom of the screen. Going into her camera roll, her goal was simply to daydream innocently and to fill that Katya-shaped hole in her day. But if she clicked on that folder, her brain was going to take a very aggressive U-turn onto a road that steered straight off a cliff.

Oh well, it'd give her something to do.

'Kat's muscle pics', was, obviously, filled with pictures of Katya's muscles; ones the brunette sent herself, posed, or quick snaps Natasha took. Most of them were lucky shots. Candid pics turned muscle pics. Katya's strong legs in shorts, her arms in a tank top, her abs in a bikini, her back in a strapless dress. Anything where her incredible muscles were highlighted.

If Maya didn't have the code to her phone, Natasha would have named the folder something more worthy. 'Muscle mommy', maybe. 

But the mediocre name didn't stop Natasha from enjoying the content thoroughly. She stopped at every pic, took her time, zoomed in, shifted in her seat if one really got to her. But they didn't seem to be hitting like they usually did. With a frown, she scrolled back to the most recent picture, finding the date to confirm her thoughts. 

It dated back 3 weeks. 3 weeks! Way too long. 

Upset—and a bit pissed—she backed out of the app and found her chat with Katya. It was truly outrageous that she hadn't been supplied with fresh content for twenty-one whole days. Shocking that she had to ask for it herself. Part of her was too proud to, but the bigger part needed new pics right now. 

Quickly, she found the arm emoji—which wasn't even in her recents anymore, unlike the peach and the scissors—and threw a big, fat question mark behind it. Only one, because she wanted to tell Katya in person how pissed she was. Then she sent the text.

Waiting was torture. Natasha even went on a run to pass the time, music blasting in her eardrums instead of the usual audiobook or podcast. But there were no notifications when she came back home, or showered, or made herself a snack. 

She was ready to throw her phone across the room and roll up into a blanket ball on the couch when the status of her text changed from 'delivered' to 'seen'. Hopeful and excited, Natasha sat up, intently staring at the screen. She wasn't disheartened when Katya went offline again without replying. Her wife never ignored her, so something must be coming soon.

She fumbled for her phone when it chimed, her heart racing as she opened the pictures Katya finally sent her. It wasn't just one. It wasn't two. It was three.

Saliva pooled in her mouth as she studied them. Closely. Every ridge, every rounding, every curve of Katya's upper body. Her phone was only inches away from her face, too scared to miss anything like she didn't have free access to those muscles 24/7.

The pictures were perfect. They were sexy, so sexy. They were feminine yet masculine. Elegant yet tough. The perfect combination. A woman who could rock a dress and be a gentlewoman, and strangle a man to protect her. 

The need to feel the muscles underneath her fingertips slowly grew. It was a weird mix of horniness and loneliness. To have those strong arms around her in a hug, or to desperately hold them as Katya ruined her? 

Liho meowed as she jumped on the couch, sniffing Natasha's phone as if she wanted a piece of Katya too.

"Look at your other mom," Natasha said to her in her baby-voice full of awe, showing the cat the pictures like Liho had any clue what she should be looking at. The animal just meowed again. "I agree, baby. So gorgeous. So sexy. And all mine."

Natasha's thumb drifted towards the call-button—she needed to hear Katya's voice. She couldn't keep staring at the pictures that were sent without any context. She needed more. Anything. But right before she tapped, three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen. 

Kat: Leaving now. See you soon x.

Katya

Katya walked into the house with caution like the spy she once was, dropping her shoes and bag along the way. 

When Natasha didn't reply to the pictures, she knew what time it was. Actually, she knew what time it was when she asked for muscle pictures. Only a needy Natasha would do that. And Katya knew, based on the millions of Instagram Reels her wife had also sent her today, that it wasn't just a regular horny episode either. Natasha was lonely.

The thought made her heart swell. They'd been together for most of their lives, yet Natasha still wanted to spend all of their time together if they could. Only then did she feel completely content and happy. She wasn't very good at verbally telling Katya that, but there were huge signs if you knew where to look. Like her behavior today.

Just in time, Katya stopped herself from chuckling when she stepped into the living room. Natasha sat on the couch like an angry child, scowling pettily and refusing to look away from the TV. She clearly wasn't happy with Katya's lack of attention today and wanted to teach her a lesson for it. Silent treatment was therein her lesson of choice.

"Привет, милая (Hello, honey)," Katya said slowly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorpost. The Russian was on purpose and came as a complete surprise to Natasha, who stiffened slightly. The words always hit just a little deeper if Katya switched back to their first language. "Почему ты дуешься (Why are you pouting)?"

Natasha looked conflicted, not sure what emotion to act on. One, anger; two, horniness; three, clinginess. She thought long and hard about her answer, not moving an inch as she did, pretending her wife was air. 

"I've been neglected," she accused Katya coldly. A good answer. It covered all three of her emotions.

Katya pushed away from the doorpost, slowly approaching her frozen wife. Like one would a scared cat. "I'm sorry, baby. That was never my intention." If Natasha listened closely—and Katya knew she did—then she could hear the amusement in her voice. That's probably the reason for the side-eye Natasha gave her when she sat down next to her. "How can I make it up to you?"

It didn't appear as if Natasha was going to answer. She stayed silent for so long, her steel expression directed at the TV, that Katya nearly gave up. A minute longer and she'd have stood up to prepare some sweet gesture. But then Natasha slowly leaned into her. 

It was barely noticeable if Katya wasn't hyper aware of her to begin with. But slowly, very slowly, her wife's body tilted her way. When Katya opened her arms, it went faster, until Natasha was fully resting against her chest. Eagerly, Katya wrapped her arms around her body. Natasha didn't fully relax; silent protest.

"For now," she said warningly, before Katya got too happy.

The brunette frowned. She was still happy, don't get her wrong, but hugs weren't exactly what she expected when she drove home. "Does—"

"Sex later."

Of course, Natasha read her mind. 

Katya hummed in acknowledgement, like it didn't make her incredibly excited. Natasha would push her off the couch if she set one foot wrong. Instead, she rubbed her shoulder carefully while Natasha kept pretending to watch the TV. If the redhead wanted to be stubborn a little longer, then Katya was going to let her. She could contain her own neediness for a long, long time.

Natasha's phone was safely tucked between her thighs, anxiously. How big were the chances that Katya's pictures would pop up if she unlocked it? She was too scared for her hand to find out. 

"Did you like them?" She asked, failing to hide the smugness in her voice. The thin ice she tread on cracked beneath her feet.

"They'll do," Natasha answered, uninterested.

Katya nearly snorted, but she settled for a half smirk Natasha couldn't even see. "You know, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you like them.''

"I said, they'll do," the redhead corrected sharply.

"Okay."

Natasha's scowl deepened when she heard how sarcastic that answer was. Anyone walking in would think the TV personally offended her. "Stop being so cocky."

"You don't think I have a reason to be?"

"I didn't say that."

"You don't like it?"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"I wish I was putting something else in—" Natasha's death glare cut her off. It was brief, but powerful, and the woman settled right back into Katya's chest afterwards.

"You have the right to be cocky, but you still irritate me," Natasha mumbled through gritted teeth. 

Katya dared to smile after the fear left her system. "Why?"

"Because you know damn well what it does to me, and it's unfair to have so much power over me."

It took all her willpower not to chuckle. Katya magically managed to keep her body still too. But it was going to be her words that would trigger Natasha. "Aw, is this your power struggle-struggle again?"

It was finally too much. With an angry huff, the woman pushed away from her, a dangerous fire flickering behind her eyes that matched the fiery color of her hair. She was absolutely stunning. "I would be very careful if I were you. What you say or do next could determine your near future and if you'll still have one."

This would be terrifying for anybody else in Katya's position. Even Clint would think this was a good time to shut up, but it was Katya's goal to rile her up as much as she could. Because the only way Natasha was going to let it out was by destroying her later. In a good way. Upstairs. 

She shrugged indifferently, scooting to the edge of her seat. "You want to live the rest of your life alone? Okay.'' Before she could lift her butt off the couch, she was yanked down by the front of her shirt. One blink of her eyes and Natasha was on top of her, her fingers digging into the tight muscles of her arms. Katya bit back a smirk. She knew the pictures hit her hard.

''You're not going anywhere.''

[fruitcoops]

Hello! I truly love your writing! Would you consider a continuation of that piece where Jules stays with coops for a week? Or just some snippets of what they get up to?

Here’s part 1, folks! It’s about 3k words and I’m thinking there will be three or four parts total, released over the next couple days. I hope you enjoy it!

Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Jules.” A series of gentle knocks echoed down the stairs and Sirius smiled into his coffee cup. “Jules, it’s time to wake up.”

Regulus snorted. “Bet you five bucks he has to drag the kid down.”

“Deal.”

“Jules.” Remus knocked again, sounding more exasperated. There was a heavy sigh and the door clicked open; after a moment of quiet, someone yelped. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Go away!” Jules groaned. “An’ give it back!”

“It’s time for breakfast, get a wiggle on. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“I’m cold.” More rustling noises followed before Jules appeared at the top of the staircase, bundled in Remus’ sweatshirt—which was really Sirius’, but it didn’t matter—and scowling. His bedhead was outstanding.

“Bon matin,” Sirius said with a smile when Jules sat heavily in the chair next to him and put his forehead on his arms. “How’d you sleep?”

“I don’t like your fiancé.”

“Oh?”

“He’s mean.”

Sirius winked at Remus as he rolled his eyes and pulled a cereal box out of the pantry. “What did he do?”

“He stole my blankets with no warning.”

“That is such a lie,” Remus scoffed. “I knocked on your door for five whole minutes before I came in!”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Sirius said, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Reg owes me five bucks now.”

“Sweet, we can get more Oreos.”

“Oreos aren’t on your diet plan,” Jules sulked as Remus passed him a bowl of cereal and milk.

“How do you know?”

Jules mumbled something and shoved his spoon into his mouth. The night before had been hectic, with Sirius driving the Hope and Lyall to the airport while Remus helped set Jules up for the night. Regulus came back from hanging out with Leo around ten pm; by that time, Jules was still wired for sound at the idea of a week-long sleepover. He finally went to sleep around eleven thirty and Sirius and Remus crash-landed into bed, exhausted.

Practice was going to be hell.

“Why do we have to wake up early, again?” Jules asked around a yawn.

Sirius ruffled his hair as he sat down again. “Practice starts at ten. Eight o’clock is not early at all.”

He squinted at him, confused. “How early do you usually wake up?”

“Seven, seven-thirty.”

Jules shuddered and turned back to his cereal while Remus plonked himself down in Sirius’ lap with a coffee cup, looking moments away from falling asleep again. “Children are exhausting. Why did we get two of them?”

“Hey!” Jules and Regulus said in unison, clearly offended.

“We’ve got terrible judgement,” Sirius laughed.

“Older brothers are the worst, right Jules?”

“Totally. Are you coming to the rink with us?”

Regulus shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, I’ve got college stuff to work on. Want to help me with paperwork?”

Jules made a face. “I’ll pass.”

“We’re leaving in forty minutes, okay?” Remus said, stretching his back as he stood up and left Sirius’ lap cold and empty. “Jules, please take a shower.”

“I smell fine!”

“You didn’t take one yesterday or the day before. Scoot.” Jules rolled his eyes and got up. “Don’t give me that look! And put your bowl in the sink.”

Sirius and Regulus shared a glance as Jules put his stuff away and trooped up the stairs. “Hi, Hope,” Regulus snickered.

Resignation overtook Remus’ face and he sighed. “Fuck. I’m turning into my mother already. Reg, you should take a shower, too.”

“I smell fine!” The withering look from both Sirius and Remus made him raise his hands in surrender and wander off to his bedroom. “I’m nineteen, not nine!”

”And yet we still need to babysit you,” Sirius called back. Finally, they were alone. He hopped up to sit on the counter and grabbed Remus around the waist as he passed by, pulling him back for a hug. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning.” Remus kissed him gently, bracketing his hips with his hands. He looked tired, but happy. “I’m actually pretty excited to have Jules stay with us. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Ne rien. It’s good to have people here.” They kissed for a moment longer, listening to the shower running upstairs and Regulus’ rummaging noises down the hall. “I swear to God, he’s like a raccoon.”

Remus laughed and leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder. “He definitely sounds like one.”

“At least his room’s clean.”

“Cheers to that. He’s heading back tomorrow, right?”

“Mhmm. Dumo’s been bugging me for, like, three days.”

Remus hummed, wrapping his arms around Sirius and snuggling into him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ve only got a little bit of time before Jules is out, so we should get dressed.”

Remus groaned, but released his limpet hold. “That was so close to a perfect sentence.”

Sirius paused just before hopping off the counter and raised his eyebrows. “If we have extra time…”

“Come on, you,” Remus laughed, tugging him off the counter by the hand and hurrying toward the stairs.

---------------------

They arrived at the rink at 10:05, and Sirius began bracing himself for the inevitable chirping as soon as he stepped out of the car. Jules bounced on his toes in excitement as they walked toward the building, laden with their hockey gear and still a bit frazzled from the mad dash out of the house.

“Is this the munchkin?” Moody asked when Remus knocked on the door to the PT office.

“Yep.” Remus looked down at Jules, whose eyes were wide and more than a little nervous as his grip tightened on Remus’ jacket hem.

“Alastor Moody,” he grunted, holding a hand out that Jules tentatively shook.

“Jules.”

“Wanna see how bones work, kid?”

Instantly, his nerves disappeared. “Yeah!”

Moody winked at them as he led Jules toward the joint models on the far wall and Sirius let out a slow breath. “He’ll be fine.”

“God, I hope so. If anyone can drive Moody off the wall, it’ll be my little brother,” Remus murmured as they headed off down the hall.

The yelling started the second Sirius opened the locker room door. “You’re LATE!” James shouted, grinning from ear to ear. “Hand over the badge, Captain.”

“We still have fifty minutes until practice starts, shut your face.” Sirius socked him on the shoulder and set his bag in the stall.

“What, pray tell, was the reason for this tardiness?” James leaned over and batted his eyelashes.

Remus rolled up a towel and smacked him on the ass with it. “My little brother.”

“Jules is here?” Leo perked up on the other side of the room, and Sirius saw several of the guys look over in excitement, as if they were hiding him in one of their bags.

“He’s staying with us for the week since my great-aunt passed away.”

“Shit, Loops, I’m sorry.”

Remus shrugged. “I never met her, but my folks went back for the funeral. Moody said he’d keep an eye on Jules during practice.”

“Lupin, Black, you’re late,” Coach Weasley said from the doorway, giving them a look over his glasses. “Do we need to have a conversation?”

“No, Coach,” Sirius said as he pulled his pads over his chest.

“I hear you’ve commandeered my head PT for the day.”

Remus shook his head. “If Jules starts bugging him—”

“I’m kidding, Loops.” Arthur’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Moody loves kids. This’ll be good for his disposition.”

Finn snorted. “Can’t get any worse.”

“I expect all of you on the ice in twenty. Any stragglers are doing laps outside!” Arthur slapped the edge of the doorway before ducking out into the hall again; his sneakers squeaked on the freshly-washed floor and Sirius stifled a laugh as he finished buckling up.

The five minute delay did not have a terrible impact on his pre-practice rituals, which he took a  moment to be grateful for—they had a scrimmage planned, and he didn’t intend to lose. Once warmups were over, they moved into running plays, until finally the whistle blew and Coach called out the teams. Remus ended up on the other side and he slapped Sirius’ ass with his stick as he passed him, grinning over his shoulder before stopping next to Dumo.

Jules and Moody came out to watch a few minutes in; Sirius caught a glimpse of his wide eyes when he saw the speed of the game and smiled to himself. Everyone else seemed to notice the new arrivals as well, because their effort doubled and suddenly the plays were running smoother than ever.

Showing off for a ten-year-old, he thought with a shake of his head. Talk about baby fever.

Remus sped through the defense, weaving back and forth until he was nearly face-to-face with Sirius. His whole face lit up and he braced; when Sirius went to check him, he dipped sideways at the last second and slipped the puck right through his skates, catching it on the other side and zipping toward the goal at top speed. The goal light went off and Talker whooped, checking him in celebration.

“Lupin! Where’s that been all season?” Arthur demanded, though he was laughing. “Christ, guys, thanks for finally waking up!”

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” Sirius asked as they headed back for the face-off.

“You think you’re the only one who skates in the basement?” Remus said with a cheeky grin.

The whole rink buzzed with energy throughout the rest of the scrimmage—once or twice, Sirius realized even he was showing off a little for Jules, who cheered louder than fifteen thousand fans whenever someone scored.

Arthur shook his head when the final whistle went off. “Everyone say ‘thank you’ to Julian.”

“Thank you, Jules,” they chorused. Jules looked like he was about to die of happiness.

“I need to get him in here more often,” Arthur muttered as they headed to the locker room to change into their gym gear. “Let’s get that energy for every practice, okay? Not just the ones with Little Loops.”

“What are you talking about?” Kasey laughed.

Arthur fixed him with a look. “Don’t bullshit me, Winter, all of you were showing off for the kid.”

Remus blushed all the way to his ears, and the rest of them mumbled some half-assed excuses until they were shooed away. “I put the new schedule on the mirror,” Sirius called over the noise. “Try to pay attention to it for once.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Logan reached up and patted him on the shoulder as he passed; Sirius dragged him back into a headlock to ruffle his hair. “Ow, fuck, okay!”

Logan did not, in fact, stick to the schedule. He was far too busy tossing the lightest medicine ball they had with Jules, who staggered slightly whenever he caught it. Both looked absolutely thrilled.

Sirius, on the other hand, was glad for the opportunity to do a fair bit of ogling while he spotted Remus—who stuck to the schedule, Sirius had never loved him more—until he finished his bench-pressing rotation. He was strong before being a player, but now…well, it was safe to say he could sweep Sirius off his feet literally and figuratively.

“Re, Re!” Jules ran over when Remus finally sat up, then paused and made a face. “You’re sweaty.”

Remus pulled him in for a hug, making him shriek and wiggle to get out. “I am, yeah! Isn’t it great? Here, lemme just—”

Jules flailed, but he couldn’t get out of Remus’ hold in time to avoid the head nuzzle that plastered his hair up on one side with sweat as the guys laughed. “Ewww!”

“Did you need something, buddy?” Remus asked at last.

“Well, now I need a shower.” Jules grimaced. “I was going to ask if you guys actually do ice baths.”

“Of course we do!” Kasey cut in before Remus could quickly divert the topic. “And your brother loves them.”

Sirius had to turn around to muffle his laughter as interest lit on Jules’ face. “Really? Can I see?”

Kasey opened the door dramatically. “Right this way, Little Loops.”

Two of the ice baths were full when they arrived and Sirius did not miss the pained look on Remus’ face at the sight, nor did he miss the devious smile on Kasey’s. Jules hurried over to one and looked over the end, practically sticking his whole face in. “Woah.”

“Pretty cool, huh? You want to know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“Oh, Christ,” Remus muttered.

“Loops, will you do the honors and make sure your darling little brother has a good time?” Kasey asked, the picture of innocence. Remus sighed and stood next to the ice bath, silently begging Sirius for help with his eyes as Kasey motioned Jules over. “Alright, so you take one of these, and then you have to be super careful as you aim. Lucky for you, you’re learning from the best.”

Remus winced as the first ice cube smacked him in the side of the head and gritted his teeth as the second went down the neck of his t-shirt. Sirius schooled his expression into the mildest, sweetest smile he could muster. “He’s not doing anything,” Jules whispered. Remus began taking deep breaths.

“He will.”

“Try me, Wint—oh, sh—” Remus muffled a squeak as ice went directly down his spine. “Hoo, boy, that’s cold.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you censor yourself,” Kasey said, amazed. “It’s uncanny.”

“Are you done?”

“I could do this all day, but it’s my turn to make dinner tonight and Nat gets hangry if I’m late. Good game, Little Loops.” Kasey and Jules high-fived and Remus shook his shirt out; no less than four ice cubes clattered to the ground.

“Young man, you are in such big trouble,” Remus growled playfully as he swept Jules over his shoulder and began tickling his knees. Sirius dodged the squirming legs and held the door open for them as they walked back into the hallway. “You’re okay hanging out with Moody while we get our stuff together, right?”

“Yeah! He’s got the coolest knee statues.”

----------------------------------

Dinner was anything but a quiet affair; all three of them had taken a nap when they got home, then had a dance party in the kitchen while Remus taught Jules how to actually cook chicken so nobody got food poisoning. Sirius was torn between begging them for the details of that particular story and wanting to stay as far away from it as possible.

Regulus and Jules got into a fierce game of footsie under the table that only ended when a small foot—he still didn’t know which one it was—slammed into the base of Sirius’ knee, hard enough that it would certainly leave a bruise. “Ow.”

They both froze, shared a look, then silently went back to eating. “Practice starts at nine tomorrow,” Remus said around a bite of broccoli. “That means wake up time is six thirty, okay? We’ve got a game on Thursday and it’s super important that we’re not late again. Reg, what time are you heading out?”

“I was thinking noon-ish? That way I can get my stuff set up while Dumo’s still at practice. Don’t want to bother him.”

Jules turned to him with the biggest, saddest eyes Sirius had ever seen. “You’re leaving?”

“I live with Dumo, remember?” Regulus hesitated. “I’ll be at the game, though.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Absolutely.”

That seemed to placate him, and he turned back to his chicken happily. Sirius nudged his brother, giving him a significant look, which was met with an eye roll that couldn’t quite cover the fond flush on his face.

Jules and Regulus took care of the dishes after dinner and Sirius stretched out on the couch to the sounds of the kid’s excited chatter as he recounted the day’s events. Remus flopped down on top of him, settling between his thighs with a contented smile. “Today went well.”

“Yeah, it did.” Sirius began running his fingers through Remus’ soft hair. “I think Moody is about thirty seconds away from adopting him.”

Remus laughed against his chest. “I think so. It’s pretty cool seeing him so excited about PT stuff.”

“It is.” There was a slow sigh and Sirius raised his eyebrows. “What was that about?”

“I just realized that even though Reg is leaving tomorrow, we won’t have the house to ourselves for six more days. It’s been two weeks.”

Sirius closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the armrest. “Fuck. I didn’t even think about that. Think we can dump him on Dumo for a night?”

“We can handle six days, right?”

“Yeah, totally.”

There was a beat of silence. “This is going to be difficult.”

“If we make it to the three-day mark, I say we break open the Oreos as a reward.”

“Sounds good to me—oof.”

They both groaned as an extra hundred pounds of person squished on top of them. “Dishes are done!” Jules chirped.

“Did you wash your hands?” Sirius wheezed, blinking the dark spots out of his vision. Remus’ chin was digging into his upper ribs.

“Yep! Regulus wants to watch a movie. I think we should watch Jurassic Park, but he says it’s terrible—”

“He what?” Remus raised his head slightly and craned his neck to look back at the kitchen. “Regulus!”

“What?”

“You don’t like Jurassic Park? I thought you had taste!” Remus pushed off the couch and Jules wrapped all his limbs around him like an oversized koala. “We’re watching it tonight and you’re going to like it. Come on, baby, we need to make sure your brother has culture.”

Two hours later, as the credits rolled and three people snored gently, Sirius smiled to himself. He could handle a week of this.

[sanstropfremir]

kingdom episode 5 review!!! lets fucking go!!!!!

 look. was i insanely hyped for this episode? yes. was my hype justified? also yes. holy FUCKING SHIT. you’ll have to forgive me for going off the rails at some points because ateez and btob directly tapped into something primal in my brain and i am obsessed. i'm obsessed. there’s no other word for it I’m obsessed. 

 ok ok ok i'll focus. i'm focused. i'll do the stage breakdown first and then do my personal ranking at the end. i might do a quick runup comparison of the self and expert rankings for funsies but i'll see how i feel when i get there. instead of going in airing order i’m gonna reverse it, since that was the order i actually watched them in and also i will run out of brains if i talk about rhythm ta first.

skz

i feel for skz. i don't think this show is going to be as much of learning curve as it needs to be for them because the fan voting skews the rankings so much. I’ve said it so many times before, but letting something flop or getting a bad ranking is actually good, because it shows you that you need to improve. because skz keeps getting validated by the fan rankings and placing first in the last two stages, they aren't actually taking the time to evaluate what about their stages is or isn't working. and besides, we’ve now seen two very similar concepts in a row from them, just one is on a grander scale than the other. what they should be doing is what both ateez and btob did for this round, which was scale up production value, but scale down concept. i know this sounds weird but i'll explain. skz has done two very abstract and ‘grand’ concepts. first round we had ghosts/good self vs evil self, and this stage they just went straight for the throat with a deal with the devil type stage. now when you combine these very abstract concepts with an unclear narrative arc, you lose clarity of intent in the performance because there are no specifics that you’re playing off of. there’s a lot more places left up to personal interpretation and this is where people can get lost. btob and ateez both narrowed down their concepts to hyperspecific scenarios where they very clearly showing the audience the arc the stage is taking. audiences can be smart but also if you can lead them by the hand they like not thinking about highly conceptual ideas, and especially not so much in a pop song competition show.

 costume

this is so rare because generally stylists are pretty careful about this, but i genuinely think they got outshone by the backup dancers, especially in the ‘heaven’ sequence. those sash and skirt combos with the strapped white tops that look like straitjackets? the fucking angel wings?! these are some thematically fun costume designs and because they’re white they stand out so much more when skz are wearing black. i also think i've seen these tops on backup dancers before? i thought it was on the last stage but i might be going insane.

i am a sucker for beaded embroidery and the combined dyework on some of their sashes is beautiful. but again, thematically irrelevant? at least you can see the greco-roman inspiration in the backup dancers’ costumes. all this is telling me is that whoever the stitchers are at jype, they are fucking incredible, but they don’t actually have a good designer because the main costumes for all their stages have been both aesthetically similar and thematically irrelevant.

again, i applaud skz for trying more experimental makeup, but boys you have to go bigger, it has no impact right now.

set

well, i did ask for them to commit to the western art bit and they sort of delivered? the first space is not planned very well and combined with the wide wide camera shots instead of making the space seem grand and sweeping it just seems bare. the ‘heaven’ side was excellent though, there was much better control of the camera and the columns and altar scaled the space down so it was more believable. also the breakable columns were fun and corny and i love it when stuff gets destroyed onstage.

the child statue transformation into actual child was a neat trick that i think landed really well. i wish they had given that concept a little more grounding other than the flashback bit but it was still very readable.

i know using rodin's gates of hell is the easiest way to shortcut saying that like, “you are now entering hell,” but them being used SO literally feels a bit blunt when the last time we saw them used in kpop was by original blasphemous catholic lee taemin, who used them with such nuance and intelligence that i'm a bit put off by skz’s literalism.

on that note, i find it very interesting the conflation that happens between greco-roman/”classical” aesthetics and catholicism, because ideologically the two are opposed (see: the bible) and historically, they didn't exist at the same time. now i'm not going to go off on a tangent about neoclassicism because you are not here for an art history lecture but i thought i would make the observation about how catholics continued appropriation of greco-roman aesthetics without complete understanding or context of those aesthetics is as pervasive as it ever has been in the last several hundred years. 

lighting

generally the lighting is pretty good, but there’s an over-reliance on projections that cheapens the look of the stage but also devalues the intentions as well. at the core of it there’s a profound statement being made about trading away your innocence, but when you underscore that with like, clock graphics and a WoW looking demon, it loses that simplicity of message.

the thing about using this particular type of projection, which are actually screens and not typical projectors, is that screens always throw light. and due to where they are situated, this basically means that if you're using the screens at full capacity with a cool colour range, we are going to be able to see everything. this is another contributing factor to why the stage looks so empty; they’re lighting up everything and it exposes where the gaps are.

now i fully acknowledge that this possibly could have been a deliberate choice, since they do actually use some spot lighting at the beginning and end. however, if it was it did not land for me. 

i loved the intro of demon felix done in blue, that was a nice switchup from what we would usually see, but i wish there was more of a coherent colour arc. like the narrative it stutters around a bit.

sound

the arrangement was a miss for me. i found it a bit dissonant again, like their last stage, since the original i'll be your man has obvious lyrics about a good christian boy being sad about a girl. this gets a bit wonky conceptually as soon as you add a child self into it. i don’t know if they changed any of the lyrics in the singing to match this a little more because i don't speak korean, so i'll have to wait for episode subs for verification. 

i really applaud them for trying, and overall they didn't actually do that bad, but skz is not a vocal group. the most i'm going to say about it is that these boys don’t have the breath support. this is likely because they're trying to do choreographically complex movements, but also it's a training thing. you can hear the difference even just between eunkwang’s ‘vocal warmup’ at the beginning of back door, he’s not projecting full voice but he still has the breath support for his voice to sound full, whereas all skz boys sound thin in comparison, even when at full volume, because they’re trying to project from the throat and not the chest. that's all i'm gonna say about that. i don't think the cracked note was bad, i didn’t really clock it on first listen.

staging

thematically they could have had something really interesting here if they stuck to a more simple narrative arc. the genesis (i’m very funny) of the idea here is good, the whole mephistopheles deal with a devil + regret/loss of innocence is clear, but the arc isn't really an arc, and the colour story doesn't help. it kind of goes earth (green/blue) -> the gates of hell are opening (red) -> oh it's heaven now (blue) -> oh just kidding it's hell/lets destroy heaven (red) -> back to earth (blue). not necessarily a bad arc, just a bit complex for four minutes.

the choreo was a lot better this time, there was a lot more intention and relevance to theme and i didn’t feel like they were flailing for the sake of flailing as much as i have in their other stages. there was also a clarity in the overall blocking and movement patterns that was missing from their other stages. this stage has a really great handoff of each member playing the ‘main’ character, especially in the beginning. i especially liked the cut from falling off the stairs to laying centre stage. 

i think I’m right in assuming that it was a choice that the members were all playing the same character and demon felix was that character possessed rather than the actual devil, but personally i think it would have been a lot more fun if they had straight up just made him be the actual devil. there’s a bit of dissonance when you have a performer with such a specialized skillset that gets used in very specific instances, but then he shows up in the regular group choreo like any ol’ guy. they always put such emphasis on felix (as they should, he’s their most charismatic performer), but they never go the distance. i would have loved it if they had committed to the bit like TOO did in their magnolia stage from rtk, where they had a member just be blinded justice. that was literally the only thing he did and it worked so well. could have done the same here with felix and it would have been fun. that being said the felix parts were SO good. love love love him getting dragging in chains.

 btob

this hit every little one of the buttons in my tiny backstage crew brain. i'm in love with this stage. there’s so many true to life little details here that on repeat viewings you're still finding new things. i know i rag on and on about narrative every week but here is a good example of what i've been trying to get at this whole time: the stage needs a shape. an a to b. you don't need a whole pirates spiel or a game of thrones theme extended universe; all you need is a clear setting and a point a to point b. this stage has both those things perfectly. we have a hyperspecific setting, (american rockstars) and a basic arc (getting ready to perform -> performing). even though back door is outside of btob’s wheelhouse, they spun it in a way that played to their strengths and did a bit braggadocio, which is rightfully earned. i'm gonna be saying it every time but the experience shows!!!

 costume

good contemporary costume is SO difficult, i want to impress that here. because it's the the time period that we are currently living and seeing every day it's so easy for the audience to spot mistakes. although yes it's easier to source/shop for, to get it good enough that it doesn't pull people out of the immersion is surprisingly more difficult than you think. their stylists did an excellent job here. the backup dancers and btob are all in monochrome plus one and it adds a very clean unity to everything without visual clutter.

each of btob’s costumes have enough to give indication of character, along with the member’s acting, which i'll get more into in the staging section. regardless, never underestimate the power of a good fitting shirt and statement belt. oh and minhyuk in the stirrup motorcycle boots with the skinny jeans and the supreme boxers and the red satin robe? good bye.

i love love love a dyed buzz this was such a good aesthetic choice for peniel, 10/10 i have no complaints about the costumes.

set

oh my god i’m gonna french kiss this set designer. this is such a simple set but it’s executed so well. there’s the ‘backstage’ area, the corridor with four dressing rooms, and then the ‘stage’ that’s pretty much just velvet ropes. so simple, but all the detail is in the set decoration and props. the road cases, the monitor, the subtle flex of the posters of them on the walls, the clothing racks, all the booze. although this is not the actual layout of any theatre (they're normally much weirder than this), there’s so many little details here that really make the experience.

there’s a very straightforward path here and it works so well. i think this might be the best use of the gates so far? it appropriately suited the drama of the moment and they didn't have to do anything to them because they're already in a theatre. bada bing bada boom.

lighting

love the setup and continuation through the amber ‘BRRRMM.’ like with sf9 it gives a smooth transition into the stage. also loved no blackout. it's a general rule in current theatrical practice that you only use blackouts when they are absolutely necessary, because they can stop the pacing of a play dead in the water. so the lack of one here at the start of the stage was a really smart choice and makes the transition feel less jarring.

i will say that actual backstage areas are very rarely lit with amber because it travels far and it's bright. it's much more common to see running lights (the lights on during a performance) to be deep red or blue.

those blasting wash lights as the gates open? the DRAMA. such a seemingly innocuous choice that really cements the atmosphere of ‘we are about to perform.’

really smart use of the projections to accentuate the already existing stage facilities. it's pretty much unnoticable because it's very well done but i appreciate it.

sound

this ARRANGEMENT!!!! it's so good!!! back door has this premise essentially built into the song so it was so smart of them to put this gimmicky spin on it. loved the literal interpretation of the knocks into the structure of the stage, it makes the blend between the sound design and the staging that much more effective.

more rock versions of everything please and thank you. 

btob is just stunting at this point and i love it. i'll have to wait for subs but judging by the hands in front of the camera bit and the ‘your super high note’ i’m pretty confident the added rap lyrics are full of shots at the other groups and honestly? valid.

staging

there's some really sharp camera control here with the one take first half. It’s up very close and personal because there’s a lack of space but it really works for the ‘intimacy’ of seeing backstage at a venue. also this is such a simple movement track but it’s so effective. it backs over a couple spots but it doesn't feel repetitive because there’s a sense of urgency and drive.

there are so many good little details in here that are true to life and unnecessary to include but sell the performance as a whole. peniel flinging water onstage, minhyuk stripping down twice and flinging his clothes around, minhyuk closing the door on the standby’s face, the backup dancer as a dresser with the laundry basket, peniel stealing the hat off her but then not going on stage with it these are all things that I’ve either had directly happen to me or something very similar has happened. but the best one and the one that sets off the tone amazingly for the whole stage is eunkwang’s intro. that ‘vocal warmup’ with the quiet okay at the end? with the little jump? i see that moment of vulnerability before the transition between person and actor every time i watch someone go onstage for the first time and there’s no way to describe it other than magic. 

the luxury of only having four members, there was actually time in this stage to establish character. it also speaks to the performing strength of btob that they can establish clear character in this short amount of time. obviously it’s pretty one dimensional; there’s serious eunkwang, typical rocker minhyuk, fuckboy peniel (how many licks does it take to make your tootsie pop, anyone?), and comedian changsub. i’ve seen and met and worked with these exact dudes many, many times. ugh i love this stage

 ateez

the utter euphoria i felt at the proof that last round’s stage wasn't a fluke. this stage is so good. it's so good. i'm obsessed with how good this stage. as an unreformed pop punk teen who played a LOT of latin jazz i am LIVING. if you’ve only seen the episode cut and not the full version here i'll make it easy and link it for you because oh my GOD mnet destroyed the pacing by cutting in a full minute and a half of reaction shots. actually mnet fucked up the pacing for all of these stages but this one was the worst. and look. i know this is the closest these boys are going to get to being real punks and this is a carefully curated and artificial facade for narrative purposes only but oh the pandering tastes so sweet. regardless of that, i am IN AWE of the level of storytelling happening here. the narrative is so clear on just the first viewing even though there is so much going on and they use every possible element they can to further enhance that narrative. repeat viewings just add more and more little details. i’ll probably miss some things because there's so much but i'll try my best.

 costume

look, hanya and i were joking that my notes for this stage were just gonna be ‘san dog collar’ for a thousand words and i was so tempted to just leave it at that because.....woof. so here is a short list of things i am the most obsessed with:

san dog collar

san smeared lipstick

wooyoung cruella deville ponytail

hongjoong terrible blond crewcut

san crushed velvet cargo pants?!

seonghwa cropped fur jacket

yunho arm sleeve

hongjoong sockless in red derbys

but in all seriousness the costumes are so good. none of these are truly authentic punk looks but they capture the spirit right and that's what matters. all the right trappings are there; safety pins, patches, plaid, leather, and a lot of diy type looks. i love the painted masks, especially as a callback to the comedy/tragedy theatre masks. it was a thematic choice to have the backup dancers in black and the tac vests are a super simple contextual device.

also hongjoong’s quickchange hat/jacket combo is super fun and i hope that’s intentionally a preview of the next stage.

set

if you weren't convinced before that whoever is designing the ateez stages is a stage designer, i don't know what to tell you. it's hard to tell because there is so much environmental storytelling happening, but there is NO large scale set here. like with their last stage, kq smartly put money into two highlight pieces; the anarchist blimp and the van/wall, and the rest of the stage atmosphere is established solely through propwork and lighting. just think about that for a bit. every other group has some kind of large scale room or wall build. ateez has a bunch of tables, flyers, and a podium. i don’t know if i can accurately communicate just how difficult this kind of coordination is to pull off but holy fucking shit this is so hard to pull off. these are theatre people i see you and i see your work and i love you!!!

they fully used the gilt mnet stage as their pseudo government building and it works. everything about this (lack of) set is so smart i wish i could be more articulate about it but there’s so only so many ways i can say the same thing over and over again. 

lighting

the laser scopes. the LASER SCOPES!!! god this lighting designer is so good. whoever you are, i'm acknowledging your effort because you deserve it. there’s some really wonderful contrast and directional lighting: the van light, the pinlights/lasers/smoke as searchlights. a lot of atmospheric red lighting but it makes sense for the theme (alarm lights) and they offset it well (unlike in the other two predominantly red stages we’ve seen) by fill lighting the faces with blue or amber; this is what actually makes us able to see what’s happening on stage

the projections are used to augment the stage action in without being overpowering, they're at relatively low tonal value so they aren't lighting up the stage at full brightness like in the skz stage. 

the big brother eye on the tv screens (it's just a projection, not actual screens) combined with the government ban notice and the broadcast has to be the record for fastest visual explanation of fascist totalitarian state. 

sound

i love it. they really successfully made rhythm ta into an ateez song and it’s cool as fuck. i love that it isn't sonically very loud. a lot of the chorus is actually quite level tone and quiet, which is a bold choice and they pull it off. this is very comfortably in their range (excluding jongho) and they went more for style than range and that's exactly what every group should be doing. singing high does not equal singing good. yes i am looking at you jongho you should have stopped at that penultimate note, it was fine!!

using rhythm ta as a pseudo protest song against a fascist government that’s banned all music and art? galaxy brain. that intro of hongjoong whispering “hey hey hey hey, this is just a song so get on the rhythm” after gunning down military police/guards? king fucking shit.

staging

i will eat all five pairs of my fluevog boots if kq hasn't hired a bunch of theatre professionals to direct and design these stages because now it's been proven that last stage wasn't a fluke. the level of execution at work here is absolutely incredible. oh the gesamtkunstwerk of it all!!!  there is SO much happening so quickly in this four minute stage and it still manages to convey exactly the correct amount of information that it needs to on the first go round, and it only gets better on repeat viewings.

they use a really classic theatre perspective trick with san climbing the rope, and they absolutely didn’t have to do that. san probably could have actually climbed that himself, but here they made a choice for aesthetic artistry over tricking/other feats of skills we’ve seen the 4th gen groups do. instead of going with the more technically difficult and ‘impressive’ option, they chose the simple way that allows for more character to shine through. there’s actually very little tricking in this stage as whole, they're putting trust in the design of the stage and the raw performance abilities of the members to carry the stage and they stick the landing again. san has some breakdancing and so do the backup dancers, but it’s window dressing in the same way that the flyers are window dressing.

there’s a lot of really good little moments of acting that really sell the performance and dedication of the group as a whole to giving their all. hongjoong overall in his cocky aspirational leader role, seonghwa’s first verse and malfunctioning earpiece bit, san’s falsetto hostage interrogation bit. also i'm obsessed with how far yunho just hucks that mask. he gets like fifteen feet of air with that thing. also props to hongjoong barehanding that glass break.

the paper props are impeccable. the first notice sets up the situation right away, and then we get some further exposition with the newspaper wooyoung is holding (which says ‘the central government has defined the black pirates as a terrorist’ but honestly you don't really need to know what it says to get the point), and then we have raining anarchist flyers from the anarchist blimp. great atmospheric touches.

the blackout crash-to-mask transition is just so good. this is an example of a good use of a blackout. nothing else to add i just thought i would point it out because it's dope.

like with btob there's some really tight camera control here, that along with the lighting and the way they've laid out the space make it easy to follow the trajectory of where they're going and also make the space seem smaller than it is. this is a really big stage and if you don't control how you want it to be seen you end up like with what happened to the first part of skz’s stage. i wish they had tracked some of the one takes a bit better, but the end of that take where the camera followed the group movement laterally and then the formation swung around to face front? sexy. surprisingly the editing is pretty ok.

there’s probably still so much i could talk about but this is already so long so if i missed something just let me know.

ok finally lets do some rankings

personal ranking

this round wasn't as tough to rank because there were two clear top tier stages for me. i actually went back and looked at my ranking from last round and this is identical except the top two spots are switched, which i find extremely funny. however in contrast to last round, these stages were all leagues better than their predecessors. all the groups are improving, just some at greater speed than others.

ateez - i'm not even gonna explain this one.

btob - i won't explain this one either since i just did that.

sf9 - this would have been first if ateez and btob hadnt blow everyone out of the water.i still think they made all the right choices and played to their strengths.

ikon - this stage is so fun to watch but the others offer me more. that’s it.

skz - i like the idea behind it and i loved felix; i'm always down for some good catholic fuckery but like last round it just wasn't played out far enough.

tbz - double ding on the moulin rouge and the continued game of thrones references for me. there were a lot of strong elements here but when compared to every other stage it just doesn't have the same gravitas.

the self rankings i thought were fairly accurate, but again, what the fuck is up with these expert rankings? who are these experts? what stages are they watching?? i won't go more into it than that because then you'll be here even longer but i don't trust these experts who consistently rank btob at the bottom, do you have eyes??? ears????

 ok i'm done for real now im so sorry this 4.6k words......if you make it this far do something nice for yourself like eat a cookie or something. this is way too long you deserve a reward for making it through my nonsense. as always if you’ve got questions or want to share your opinions feel free to send me an ask!

[daveyjacobss]

meant to be made into art

jack kelly x davey jacobs (freshman college roommates au)

summary: davey might like his new roommate more than he was expecting to.

a/n: hi @faded-dragon-flys !! i’m your secrect santa for @newsies-secret-santa !! this is being posted a little later than i wanted so i’m really sorry about that but i hope you like it!! i hope you’ve had a happy holidays and that you have a wonderful new years :)

masterlist

_________

College was....okay. It wasn't that Davey wasn't excited to have more freedom and to finally be able to pursue his interests, but the entire experience was incredibly nerve-wracking. Classes and coursework were enough stress on their own, but the addition of living away from home for the first time in a new place with a stranger for a roommate wasn't exactly ideal. Not that his roommate wasn't fine, he was —mostly. He had a horrible sleep schedule and he was a little messy and he sometimes listened to his music too loud, but Davey had many of the same flaws. So, yeah, Davey could mostly handle Jack.

It had been a bit of a shock the second week when he had been up at an ungodly hour writing for one of his classes and Jack, who he had assumed was sleeping somewhere else for the night, had returned from one of the school's art studios splattered with paint. From the look on Jack's face, it had been a bit of a shock for him, too. But after the initial surprise had passed Jack had laughed quietly and Davey's cheeks had flushed the lightest of pinks because, oh, Jack had a really nice laugh. Davey had laughed a little, too, once he got his faint blush under control, and they had stayed up a little longer to talk before going to sleep. There were plenty of late night encounters in the following weeks, but that first one lingered in Davey's mind — the way the paint on Jack's face had accentuated his jawline, the way his smile had spread across his face so easily. His laughter had been soft but, with the quiet of the room, the sound of it had wrapped itself around Davey so firmly that he had felt it in his chest.

That happened a lot — more than he would have liked to admit. Jack would laugh, or he would sing along with his music, or he would just talk, and Davey would feel it reverberating in his chest and quickening the pace of his heart. Though, to be fair, the sped up heart rate also happened whenever Jack changed his shirt in front of Davey or walked into the room after a shower in only a towel.

So, maybe he couldn't actually handle Jack that well. Or, rather, he couldn't handle the way his face warmed every time Jack looked at him and his heart jumped in his chest anytime Jack touched him. Every time he talked to Sarah on the phone she would ask about his cute roommate, and every time without fail Davey would make a little choking noise and, if Jack was there, a swift exit. She had seen him when she was helping Davey move into his dorm, and he spent every day grateful that she hadn't gotten the chance to actually talk to him.

Sarah was better at making friends than Davey was, she always had been. Where she blossomed in social situations and could easily command a room, Davey floundered for what to say and criticized every word that came out of his own mouth. He was awkward, and people tended to give him strange looks rather than friendly smiles. Jack was the same way as Sarah, from what Davey could gather. He had plenty of friends back home and he had had no trouble making friends at their university, never eating alone in the dining hall and always having someone in each of his classes to text about assignments. Davey could understand it, the way people seemed to fawn over Jack and melt at his smile — after all, he did the same things. Jack never really brought his friends back to their dorm, though, and it warmed Davey's heart to think it was out of consideration for him.

The only real friends Davey had made since arriving on campus were Jack and a girl in his english class named Katherine, who sometimes scared him but he still adored all the same. Katherine had caught onto his growing feelings for his roommate so fast Davey had briefly wondered if she was psychic. Jack had seen them sitting together while they ate dinner and came to say hi, and Katherine had clearly not missed the way Davey had simultaneously brightened out of excitement and shrunk down out of nervousness. Thankfully, she didn't say anything until Jack had left, but then a teasing smile had spread across her face and Davey knew he was a goner.

"Don't think I didn't see that," she had said, nonchalantly flipping her hair behind her shoulder. Her eyes were twinkling with mischief as she looked at him.

"See what?" He had asked, trying to appear as unbothered as she was. He failed miserably.

She hadn't responded, only going back to eating her salad, but she had been poking fun at him about it ever since. It didn't help that she insisted Jack had a crush on Davey, too. She would tell him about how Jack's smile was different for him and he rarely looked away from Davey when they were in the same room — but Davey just couldn't bring himself to believe it. Believing it would let in too much hope, and with too much hope came the inevitable bone crushing weight of heartbreak.

Even just the little bit of hope that had crept into his chest after Katherine's constant reassurances of Jack liking him as well left him stealing glances at his roommate while perched on his own bed and making half-assed annotations in his textbook. Sometimes he felt creepy, always watching Jack when he wasn't looking (thought he probably spent an equal amount of time averting his eyes for his own sanity), but every once in a while Jack would catch him and he would just smile — so Davey never felt too bad about it.

He watched as Jack hunched over his sketchbook, his lip between his teeth and his brow furrowed. Jack always looked breathtaking when he was concentrating on his artwork. He ended up in strange positions that looked like there was no way they could ever be comfortable, but his body was as relaxed as it was tense. Sometimes his tongue would slip out between his teeth if he got really into it, and it always made Davey smile. Jack's control over his face in general seemed to disappear when he was working on his art, every emotion clearly written in his expressions as he cycled through them. Once, Jack had brought Davey to the art studio with him so he could have company while he painted. It had been one of the smaller rooms in the art building, and they were the only ones in there. The way Jack had loosened and opened up was incredible to watch, it was like as soon as he picked up his paintbrush his whole being clicked into place and was brought into focus. The painting was beautiful, as was every piece of Jack's, but it was the painter who Davey had watched come alive in vibrant colors.

"What are you working on?" He blurted out, startling even himself as Jack looked up from his sketchbook. His roommate's face relaxed a little as his eyes fell on Davey.

"Just some warmup sketches," he answered easily. Everything Jack did seemed to come easily.

"Any particular subject?" Davey pushed his textbook off his lap, his notes forgotten in lieu of a much more important subject (Jack, of course). For a split second, he swore he saw panic flash across his friend's face.

"Not really, I just like to make sure I draw a bit everyday." He smiled at Davey, closing his sketchbook. "What class are you working on?"

"Oh, this?" Davey gestured to the several colors of highlighters and pens scattered across his bed with his textbook. "It's just stuff for my intro to philosophy course. The professor gives us, like, never-ending readings. It's nowhere near as interesting as your art." He was blushing by the time he finished talking, not having expected himself to turn his answer into praise for Jack (...again). But Jack scoffed, bringing himself and his sketchbook over to Davey's bed. He plopped down next to him and their knees knocked into each other, Davey's heart missing a beat.

"Nah, if it's interesting to you than it's cool. You don't have to downplay it or justify it to me." Jack caught Davey's eyes while he was talking, locking in so that Davey couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to (he didn't). There was something so simultaneously comforting and exposing about Jack looking right at him, all of his attention focused on Davey. He was so caught up it in that it took a second for his words to register. But, when they did, he found his chest warming and the butterflies in his stomach fluttering their wings — not the harsh, violent flapping that happened when he got anxious, but a gentle soothing rhythm that could have lulled him to sleep. Not knowing how to respond to such a warm act of reassurance, he tried to redirect the conversation.

"Can I see what you were drawing?"

It was Jack who finally broke their staring contest, dragging his eyes down to look at his sketchbook resting in his lap. He glanced between it and Davey, biting his lip.

"Tell you what, I'll show you some of these sketches if you finally let me read one of those short stories of yours for your fiction writing class, deal?"

Davey's eyes widened, feeling himself shrinking back without actually moving. He was retreating from the warmth Jack was radiating and it left him cold and regretful, but he didn't know if he could do it. He didn't know if he could let Jack read one his stories, let him look that deeply in Davey's mind. Sure, his professor and his classmates would read his stories for workshops to help him revise it, but this felt different. They were reading it for the sake of constructive criticism and helping him improve it, Jack would be reading it just to read it. Jack would be reading it and in doing so he'd get the biggest peek into who Davey was that he would probably ever get. Even Sarah hadn't been allowed to read his stories yet. But —

But Jack was there. Jack was sitting there in front of him on Davey's bed, offering up a part of himself, too. Davey had watched Jack paint, but he had never had the privilege to look into Jack's sketchbook. Even when he asked he had been expecting a playful dismissal, a kind brush off. Jack's other friends, Davey knew, weren't allowed to look at his sketchbook. He had confided with Davey that even his foster brother back home had only been allowed to glimpse a few pages. And if Jack was willing to show that part of himself, to reveal that to Davey, how couldn't he offer up the same in return?

"Okay," he said, looking Jack right in the eye again and watching as his lips turned upward. "Deal."

Jack grinned fully before spitting on his hand and holding it out as if for a handshake. Davey scrunched his nose as he looked down at it. "That's disgusting."

Jack laughed, pulling hand back to wipe it on his pants. "Sorry, force of habit."

Davey's phone vibrated on the bed beside him as he was giving Jack a slightly bewildered stare. He picked it up without really looking, pulling up the text notification from Sarah. His face flushed at her message, quickly putting his phone face down on the bed to make sure Jack couldn't see it. It was Jack's turn to give Davey a bewildered stare.

"You alright there?"

Davey laughed nervously. "Yeah, uh, I'm good. Sorry, it's my sister. She won't stop asking me about my cute roommate." He froze as he realized what he had said. "Uh! Her words, not mine. She won't shut up about it."

"That so?" Jack asked, smirking. He was so smug and so boyishly attractive that Davey's brain didn't even give him a second to think before he was talking again.

"Well, you know, you are." And holy shit he did not just say that. Holy shit he did not just say that. Jack's jaw dropped just slightly, but Davey was more focused on the panic making its way through his entire body and forcing even more words up his throat. "I mean—like, uh, objectively, ya know? Like, your face is, uh — it's, like, aesthetically.... pleasing?"

He wanted to die. He wanted to throw himself out the window and die. He could not believe all of that had just come out of his mouth. He continued to stutter for a few more seconds without any real words coming out, Jack's eyes still fixated on him as he blushed and fidgeted. Then, suddenly, he turned away as if to hide his face — but he didn't turn enough. Davey watched in muted shock as Jack lips spread into a broad grin.

"For what it's worth," Jack's voice was soft and gentle, slipping out from behind his smile, "I think your face is pretty aesthetically pleasing, too."

Davey's entire body shut down. Oh. Jack thought he had a nice face. Okay. Yeah, definitely not something he could handle — definitely something he would need to deal with and process when he was alone and could express the proper amount of freaking out over it.

"I actually, um—" Jack was turning back to him, opening his sketchbook to his most recent pages. "I think you have a really nice face, Davey." He held the book out to Davey and he took it with slightly trembling his hands. In front of him were two full pages populated entirely by sketches of Davey. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at them, at Jack's beautiful handiwork. He made Davey seem more breathtaking than he was, than he could ever dream of being. And, more than that, he made Davey seem like the kind of person worth paying attention to.

When he turned to look back at Jack, his gaze was softened and his mouth was stilling hanging open slightly. Jack looked like he was holding his breath, his eyes hopeful as they met Davey's.

Oh, Davey thought again. Oh.

While he had been sneaking glances at Jack, Jack had been doing the same. While he had been romanticizing every detail of Jack, Jack had been doing the exact same thing to Davey in his artwork. He made Davey feel like he was the kind of person who deserved to be romanticized, like he was the kind of person who was meant to made into art.

Oh.

Davey gently placed the sketchbook down on the bed, feeling more calm than he had since he moved into their dorm. The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering, his heart was beating out his chest, his face was practically burning, and yet everything felt peaceful. Jack's eyes widened as Davey reached for him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

But he melted into it when Davey kissed him. He grabbed at Davey, his hands scrunching up the fabric of Davey's shirt as he pulled him closer, smiling into the kiss. Davey felt like he had literally ascended to heaven, curling his fingers in Jack's hair.

When they eventually pulled away Davey's nerves returned in full force, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain himself. But Jack just smiled at him and kissed his forehead before lacing their hands together. And, yeah, Davey could make do with that.

"What do you say we go grab some dinner and I read one of your stories when we get back? Then we can have a movie night or something," Jack offered, standing up from the bed and pulling Davey with him.

No fear came with the idea of Jack reading his story that time, not after having seen Jack's sketchbook. Not after Jack had revealed himself so openly to Davey — it was only fair he do the same. Plus, he found that he wanted Jack to see that part of him. He wanted to know what Jack thought of his writing.

"Yeah," he smiled, squeezing Jack's hand. "That sounds good."

_________

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[everybodyscupoftea]

don’t forget gloves

jj x unc women’s soccer reader

jj agrees to a pickup game during winter break

(warnings: cursing, severe lack of editing)

JJ agreed, a little to your surprise, to come play in a pickup game with you and some of your teammates and their partners. You knew he typically didn’t like doing stuff like that because he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about soccer, but since hit had been over a year, you guessed he felt confident enough in his abilities.

“Babe,” he held his hand up when you made a surprised noise, “I’ve been practicing for months now.”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “Sure thing. It’s later this afternoon, but I’m gonna go early and stretch if you want to come.”

“Do I have time to take a nap?”

Humming, you glanced at your watch, “Sure. I’ll come pick you up in an hour and a half.”

“You don’t want to stay?”

“Not if you’re sleeping, I’ll just go home and watch some TV.”

JJ shrugged and handed you your keys, “Suit yourself.”

-

You ended up walking home and jogging back to JJ’s apartment as a sort of warmup. The sun was getting low, would probably start setting in the next hour, and you didn’t want to get hurt. You texted him and within a few minutes, he was opening the passenger door and climbing in.

“Hey, how was the nap?” you asked, turning the heat up a little.

JJ looked at you suspiciously, “Did you just run here?”

“Maybe.”

He snorted, “You baffle me sometimes. The nap was great, feeling rested and ready to kick some ass.”

“Glad to hear,” you answered, backing out of your spot to head to the practice field. 

When you got there, JJ helped you drag the goals into place, and you helped him stretch out. After tying his shoe, he stood up, “Who all is coming?”

“Not too many people, a couple teammates and some significant others.”

He nodded, “What time?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Will you pass with me a little bit?”

“Sure.”

He moved back about ten feet, and the two of you knocked it back and forth steadily and in silence. You were actually really impressed at how much he’d improved, even when you hit one at him more firmly than you intended.

Grinning, he passed it back easily, “I’ve been using a wall at my complex. This is so easy compared.”

Which reminded you of when you were younger, using the wall as a passer to work on control and staying on your toes to move quicker. You nodded, “The wall is a great way to build skill.”

“I read it online,” he admitted, “there was one week that I walked around my house with a soccer ball at my feet at all times, but my roommate got annoyed so I quit.”

Yet another thing you’d done as a child, and you raised your eyebrows, “My parents got annoyed when I did that as a kid too.”

He laughed, “Even your dad?”

“Especially my dad. He was all for improving until he tripped over it carrying food.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, Thanksgiving food to be exact. Thankfully it wasn’t the turkey, but we had no dressing that year.”

“Damn,” he whistled lowly as a car pulled in and parked next to yours. A few of your teammates that carpooled climbed out, one of them carrying a bag full of pennies she’d grabbed from the locker room.

A few of them spread out to kick around while a few of you waited to the side.

“Girls versus boys?” your teammate, Alexis, asked.

You shook your head, “Nah, I think Payton is bringing her girlfriend so it’d be uneven.”

“Wait have we met Payton’s girlfriend before?”

“Not this one,” you mused, “I think the one we met during the season broke up with her.”

“Oh shit,” Alexis muttered, “you know why?”

“Traveling killed her. She wanted weekends together that Pay just didn’t have during the season.”

Alexis sighed, “That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, but this girl, Emma, plays volleyball, so she gets it.”

“How do you know?”

“I talk to her regularly,” you answered, amused.

“You’ve met Emma?”

“Only on FaceTime. I think she’s pretty nervous to meet us.”

Alexis smirked, “Good.”

Mack was the next to join the group, dragging her boyfriend behind her with a grin, “Can’t believe we’re all matching!”

You glanced down, all three of you wearing the same hoodie and shorts combo, “Wow, so cute,” you deadpanned.

She reached forward to flick your nose, “Fuck off, give our brains some credit.”

“Our brains,” Alexis snorted, “we just share a single fucking braincell.”

Payton was the last to show up, sitting in the car a few seconds after turning it off, talking to the girl in the passenger seat. 

“Think she’s giving a pep talk?” Mack mused, holding a ball she’d been juggling against her hip.

“Probably.”

The other two girls joined the group a few minutes later, and Alexis started handing out pennies to assign teams. You and JJ ended up on the same team, and he looked relieved. You held your fist out to him to bump, and when he did, you told him, “Partner in crime, we got this.”

And when JJ slid across the ground to tap the ball in off your pass, you yelled, jumping into his arms in excitement.

-

The game finally ended at 8:00 when the practice field lights automatically shut off. Mack suggested everyone turning their brights on to shine over the field, but it was getting obnoxiously cold, and had been raining for a good 40 minutes, so most of you bowed out.

“You only want to keep going because you’re losing,” Payton yelled from across the field.

JJ had his hands on his hips, one of the only ones smart enough to wear gloves. His cheeks were bright pink, and you smiled at him, “Great game.”

“You too, obviously.”

“Weee are the champions, my friends,” Alexis crooned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You snorted and Mack flipped her off, “Fuck off, it was just for fun anyway.”

Payton smirked, “Would you be saying that if you won?”

Before Mack could say anything, her boyfriend grabbed her elbow, “Alright, babe, let’s go.”

“You’re lucky,” she called over her shoulder.

JJ laughed and picked up both of your bags on the sideline. You laced your fingers together, walking next to him, trying to regain feeling back in them. When you got to the car, JJ tugged on the door handle until you managed to unlock it.

You sighed, and tried to crank up the car, but you couldn’t get your fingers to cooperate, too frozen and stiff to wrap fully around the keys.

JJ spoke, not looking at you, “Damn, I took that one to the thigh, never been more grateful to be wearing leggings.” Then he seemed to realize the car was still cold and still off, “You good?”

“I can’t get it.”

He’d pulled his gloves off, and he reached over with his hands to grab yours, almost jerking away when they made contact, “Fuck, your hands are freezing. Why no gloves?”

“Forgot.”

Shaking his head, fondly, JJ asked, “Want me to drive home. Let your fingers defrost.”

“That’d be great,” you answered, relieved.

JJ leaned across the console to press a kiss to your forehead before opening the door and getting out quickly. Instead of getting out, you slid across to the passenger seat in maybe the most ungraceful way.

He got into the driver's seat, cranked up the car, and pulled out of the parking lot all within a few seconds while you held your fingers up to the heat blowing out of the vents.

When the two of you got to his apartment, you glanced over at the counter where your discarded gloves were sitting. 

Smiling wryly, you told him, “Won’t be forgetting those again.”

“Bet not,” he laughed.

“Wish we had a fireplace,” you sighed, moving toward the bathroom to get your wet clothes off.

A few seconds later, JJ called out, “I can light a bunch of candles for you instead.”

~

day 12 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: your hands are freezing

[pi-cat000]

Girl who made the night sky: p5

NOTE: so I started writing this again this year but didn’t get very far. Here’s what I wrote if anyone was interested. I might post it on ao3 as well, not sure.

Summery: To return home Shikako splits herself infinitely across dimensions. A fault in one of the splits results in a discorporated Shikako stranded in the Naruto canon-verse.

Part 3, Part 4

Her alarm goes off just as the sun begins to peak between the buildings opposite her apartment block.  Sakura roles over to glare at the thin beam of light filtering through her window, catching in floating dust particles. Somewhere in the dark of her mind Kako shifts with amusement, prodding at her sluggish thoughts, pushing them into a state of awareness.

/Morning./ The word is said slowly, echoing with a lazy laughter. Sakura scowls, flopping over to hit the snooze on her alarm, yawning. She is still getting used to waking up at dawn and is thus completely reliant on her alarm to shake her from her sleep. A real shinobi would have enough control to wake up whenever they desired.

/Practise makes perfect,/ Kako says as if guessing the direction of her thoughts.

“Easy for you to say,” Sakura mutters, dragging herself up and yawning again. There is more idle amusement from Kako.

/Have a good day./

Slowly, the impression of Kako fades into the neutral baseline of just-Sakura, signalling that the other was asleep.

“I will,” Sakura comments in her renewed alone-ness.

Kako now slept during the day, leaving Sakura to her own devices. Whatever that not-dream had been, it had disturbed Kako enough that she now spent most of her ‘awake’ time watching over Sakura while she slept. This left only a few scant hours in the evening for discussion, conversation and hanging out together. Despite only having Kako around for a few months, Sakura already misses the other’s presence. Though their interactions had always been limited, reduced to scattered sentences and the occasional emotion, just having Kako listen to her ramblings or watch as she walked to and from the academy, studied or completed whatever other task she had set herself. Funny how much of a difference just having someone around and interested made even the most mundane parts of life. 

Discouraged by her own solitary thoughts, Sakura contemplates returning to bed and sleeping an extra hour. Not like Kako would know if she did. The notion passes quickly. Kako would be disappointed and the thought of disappointing Kako make her sad. Also, she was pretty sure it was dangerous for her and Kako to sleep at the same time. Sakura’s not an idiot. Even if Kako had yet to outright say it, she could put two and two together. Something bad had happened during the nightmare other than just giving them a fright. 

...

The rest of the morning progresses according to her new schedule. She dresses and packs her bag. With her collection of notebooks steadily increasing, it was starting bulge in the middle. The sooner she figured out how to properly make storage scrolls the better.

Next, she shuffles down to the kitchen, pulling together a meal with the correct amount of nutrients. Now Sakura is waking up before her mom, she has been forced to plan her own meals. Kako had been very helpful in that department, pushing her towards the type of diet she would need to help with muscle growth and keep her energy levels high throughout the day. It didn’t taste particularly nice, but it was functional, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the other non-clan kids knew about this sort of stuff. Meal planning was something they’d touched on in class but not something Sakura had bothered applying to her day-to-day life. Sure, she’d always tried to eat healthy but, like most things ninja related, there was a lot more to physical conditioning than just that being healthy.  It had only been a week but she has already noticed a marked improvement in her daily energy levels.

...

Sakura closes the door her apartment just as she begins to hear her parents start to shuffle around, preparing for their own workday. She takes a second to breath in the cool morning air before heading towards the old academy training grounds.

When she arrives the training area is empty like it usually is. Not a lot of academy students bothered coming out so early, especially not to this training spot which was in an awkward location. She hadn’t even known it existed till Kako pointed it out.

Another yawn.

A long sigh.

Sakura begins her warmup stretches, trying not to let the silence of her own mind bother her too much.

She is maybe halfway through the revised exorcize routine that Kako put together for her, when movement at the edge of the training field catches her attention.

It startles her enough that she almost trips through the final set. If Kako were awake Sakura might have had some warning as Kako was usually the one to sense and alert her to people approaching unexpectedly. Maybe she should work on her spatial awareness or lack thereof. She’ll add it to the list.

As it is, she thankfully doesn’t trip and embarrass herself because the person approaching is very familiar.

“Sasuke-kun!” She can’t help but call an enthusiastic greeting, waving. Sasuke freezes on approach, staring his usual blank stare. He blinks, expression shifting ever so slightly to surprise. Well, as surprised as someone as cool as Sasuke can be.

“Hello!” What were the chances of running into Sasuke outside of school hours? Practically zero. Ino would have a fit.

Saskue about-faces and walks in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” She starts to follow as the other quickly disappears into the trees encircling the training grounds.

“Do you want to train…” She hesitates, slowing, “with me…?”

Does she want Sasuke to see her huffing and puffing as she tries to make it past her tenth lap of the field? Her stamina is less than impressive and Sasuke always placed in her class’s top three when it came to combat and physical ability. She stops following. No way was she letting Sasuke see her like this.

If Kako was right, and she usually was, she would start seeing a physical improvement in another weeks time.

She pouts, trying not to feel too unmotivated.  Maybe…hopefully, she’ll see Sasuke out here again and ask to train then? Then she wouldn’t be a total embarrassment. Yes, a prefect plan. She resumes her exercises. Before Kako had come along, catching up to Sasuke would have seemed like an insurmountable task. Now Sakura’s seen what a real shinobi is capable of and said shinobi believes she is capable of the same things, it doesn’t seem as impossible. Goal reaffirmed, she tackles the rest of the morning with renewed energy.

...

Her day progresses as per usual. Sakura sits in class, takes notes, and revises on past topics when Iruka deviates between teaching and crowd control. When lunch break starts, she takes it as an opportunity to sit around the side of the building and examine her sealing notes. Away from her noisy peers, she has a chance to sort through all the stuff she’s been learning and figure out what questions she wants to ask Kako in those few hours they have together in the afternoon.

“Why do these seals use a bunch of descriptive kanji while this one is just a collection of stylistic lines?”

She mutters to herself, scanning the copies of Kako’s seal and her copies of Iruka’s notes on storage scrolls. The storage scrolls are easy enough to understand. The symbols and lines follow a logical progression, building on the basics she’d learnt while studying explosive tags. Kako’s seal is different…very different. Instead of easy to follow connections between the function and kanji, Kako’s seal is a simple circle, spiral and tomoki. Nothing else…No hint at what the lines might mean.

….

...

/Seal is collapsed…simplified. Needs expanding./

Is Kako’s somewhat confusing answer. After spending most of her lunch, then the following lesson mulling the question over, this is less than satisfying.

“What do you mean by needs expanding?” There is a long pause and Sakura waits for Kako to find the right words and energy to talk. Kako could almost communicate in full sentences now but it was still somewhat stilted.

/Not the full seal…simplified…smaller./

Sakura frowns, staring at her desk. Strewn across it are piles of notes, several bottles of ink she’s been infusing with charkha, and blank sealing paper. She had been half asleep at the time but she vaguely recalls how, on the night of Kako’s arrival, the seal had been a lot bigger, stretching across almost all her visible skin. 

“You mean this is only a small part of the seal and there’s more that I can’t see.” A wave of warm encouragement has Sakura continuing, “No, it’s more than that…all the seal is here it’s just…. just smaller…symbolic of the larger seal.”

/Compressed./ There’s a warm swell of pride like she’s just understood some tricky concept Kako’s been trying to impart

“Well …then how do I study it? How do I un-compress it?”

/An expansion seal./

She groans, “So…I need another seal to look at this seal.”

/Hmmm./

“Let me guess: That’s complicated as well.”

/Basics first./

Sakura rests her head on the desk, sighing.

[dkscribe88]

Tavronica Week Prompt 7: AU

And now, for my final entry for this year’s first annual Tavronica week. I decided to set it in modern times. They’re still on Thra and still Gelfling, but they’ve adopted a way of life similar to humans, including going to college and playing sports, such as ice hockey. Tavra is team captain, single, and focused on helping her team win the final game of a tournament against their rivals, lead by Tolyn. Onica is a Psychology student who recently became single and is dragged to the game by her best friend, Tae. Tavra always seemed like she would be a jock if she were real, and the only sport I really ever played was ice hockey, so I decided to write her playing it. I hope you like this last fic. It’s been a blast writing for this event, and I’m proud to say I met my challenge of 7 prompts for 7 days. Can’t wait to do it all again next year! So now, sit back and enjoy my final entry for this year. Beware, it’s the longest one yet.

The roar of the crowd was deafeningly loud throughout the halls of Ha’rar State University’s hockey stadium. Flooded with fans of both the home team, the Ha’rar State University Fighting Paladins, and visiting rivals, the Sami Thicket University Landstriders; the atmosphere was tense. It was the finals of a two-day tournament. Both top seeded teams played two games the day before, easily routing their opponents. Their head-to-head battle had always been assured, the latter two games merely a formality. Both teams stared daggers at each other whenever the Paladins locked eyes with a Landstrider. There’s bad blood between these rivals, the wound freshly opened after what had transpired a few hours before…

-------

Earlier in the day, the home team had arrived two hours before they were to hit the ice, hoping to do some warmup exercises in their locker room before suiting up, only to discover that the whole place had been destroyed. Bags had been dumped out, equipment strewn randomly throughout the room, and jerseys were being soaked by the showers. Their hockey sticks were no longer in the racks, and no one would have found them, had the team not experienced this sort of attack before. The Paladin’s team captain, defenseman Tavra just sighed before casting her gaze upwards, confirming that the sticks were indeed glued to ceiling.

“Sheesh, they could’ve at least come up with a more original way of wrecking our stuff. C’mon guys, cleanup positions. Ready? Go!” The team quickly got to work straightening things, accomplishing their tasks efficiently, having done so many times before. They kept a scraper and a bottle of nail polish remover taped under one of the benches for occasions such as this, which easily dissolved the super glue. It took a little longer to get everything back in order this time though, as the Landstriders had taken the time to remove the tape from their sticks before gluing them. It was a tedious task, retaping everything, but Tavra and her crew knew everything needed to be perfect, or they wouldn’t stand a chance. STU’s captain, Tolyn the Terrible, did his best to crush anyone that stood in his way, using any means necessary. The Landstriders led the league in both penalties and player ejections. They’d already given four different Gelfling concussions, ending the player’s seasons early, and in one case, ending it for good, the injury so severe it caused brain damage, forcing the player off the team and out of school altogether.

Forty minutes later, the locker room was back in usable condition. Tavra took her place in front of her team.

“Alright! Everyone get in line for warmups. First, we stretch, then after that 20 jumping jacks. When I say go. Ready? GO!”

-------

Meanwhile, at the campus dorm rooms…

“C’mon, Onica! It’ll be fun, I promise. The game is going to be great and there’s gonna be a sick afterparty, with lots of hot gelfs for us to hit on, so let’s go, please? You need a new girlfriend, or at least someone to take your mind off Effiny and I need to get my flirt on. It’ll be good for you to get out.” Tae had been trying to convince her friend to attend the game with her for the last few hours, not wanting to go by herself.

“But I’ve got that test coming up for my Developmental Psychology class and I haven’t even studied for it yet.” Tae rolled her eyes.

“You’ve never had to study for any of your Psych classes before. You know every bit of that material frontwards and backwards, sideways, diagonal and upside down. If that’s your best excuse my victory is assured.”

“But I won’t even be able to get into the afterparty. You have to know someone on the team to attend and I don’t, so I see no reason to go.” Tae refused to give up.

“That doesn’t matter! I told you, I know the goalie. Zili promised that if we showed up, she’d get us in. Zili’s a bit weird, which she claims is a common trait amongst goalies, but she’s also true to her word. Please, I don’t want to go alone.” Tae had been nice so far, but it was time to pull out her secret weapon. She kneeled down next to Onica’s chair, lower lip jutting out in a pout, eyes turned up in a begging fashion, glistening with small tears in their corners. Onica had to give her style points for being able to cry on demand. She tried to turn away, but there was no escaping the power of the fizzgig pout. Unable to fend off the adorably cute assault any further, Onica let out a groan.

“Ugghhh! Okay, fine! I’ll go. But you owe me. More than one.”

“Yes!” Tae jumped up, giving her roommate and best friend a hug. “Thank you so much, Oni! There’s this new guy on the team, Galen, and Zili’s promised to help me get a chance to talk to him. Oh, I can’t wait for you to see him, he’s so dreamy. He’s tall, and Sifa, like us, with some Spriton and Vapra mixed in. He’s got beautiful tanned skin and dark hair with little bits of silver here and there, ooh-hoo-hoo just the thought of him makes me quiver!” Onica gave her friend a look of disbelief and slight disgust.

“Sounds like a creep if you ask me.”

“No! No, he’s not, actually. Zili said he’s really kind and soft spoken most of the time. When he does talk, he’s so deep, and he’s got a great sense of humor, too.” Onica smiled at her then, reassured of Tae’s choice to pursue this guy.

“I can’t wait to meet him, then. I hope you find happiness this time Tae. I’d hate for you to be stuck with someone who doesn’t appreciate you.” Onica’s face turned slightly sullen, then. Tae put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you talking about Effiny? Onica, that girl has serious issues with where her priorities lie. She didn’t know what she had, being with you. But soon, Onica, someone will come along who loves you for you, I’m sure of it. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet them tonight. So, come on. To the game!” Tae jumped into a pose, pointing dramatically towards the door. Onica gave a small laugh, before getting up and ready for the night’s activities.

The two young women made it to their seats as the two teams warmed up on the ice, each circling around their zone, while some fired pucks at the goalie, who easily blocked them all, giving Zili a confidence boost to start off with. Tavra was gliding along on her skate’s edges, keeping an eye on her own players, looking for signs that each was ready, and smirking when she found they were. She got in line to shoot then, firing right from the line in a slapshot, typical of her defensive position. She’d placed a spin on the puck, causing it to look as if it were warping in the air as it curved toward Zili’s glove side. Tavra nearly got it in, but at the last second, Zili’s eagle eyes tracked it and she caught it neatly in her mitt.

“Nice try, Captain! Maybe next time, yeah?” Zili teased her. Tavra smacked her stick against the goalie’s pads affectionately before gliding off to the back of the line, only to freeze as a sinister gaze met her own.

“Tolyn,” she whispered bitterly. The big jerk was Spriton, tall and strong, or in Tolyn’s case brutish. The sound of ice being carved sounded from behind her, letting Tavra know her two assistant captains had her back.

“That guy almost makes me ashamed to be Spriton.” Kylan muttered, glaring with all he had at the man, who only sneered back.

“Don’t let him get to you Kylan. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you this time. I’d never hear the end of it from my brother if I did.”

“You’re damn right about that, Naia.” Another player had joined the assistant captains.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Gurjin. You ready to rumble?” Naia asked her brother.

“Oh, you know it. Gotta get revenge for them breaking my poor Ky Guy’s arm.” Suddenly, the scoring siren went off, signaling the players to leave the ice as it’s resurfaced in preparation for the game’s start. The Paladin’s gathered once more into their locker room. Tavra, Kylan and Naia stood up front as everyone else kneeled, waiting to hear some inspiring words from their captain.

“Ok, we’ve got a tough game ahead of ourselves here, people. We know just as much as anyone else that the Landstriders don’t fight fair. Expect attacks from all sides and keep your guard up. Their goalie is weak on their stick side, so do your best to aim at the space between the arm and torso, as well as high on her right side. Stay away from that glove hand, it’s too good. Now raise your swords, gelfs…” Everyone’s sticks rose in the air. “Brave paladins of HSU, are you ready to defend yourselves, your honor, and your school?” The team let out their best roars of approval. “Are we ready to face the beasts in battle, skate blades sharpened, sticks taped?” Another roar resounded throughout the room. The coach signaled for the group to head out for introductions.

“Ok gelfs, charge!” The Paladins stormed out of the locker room, cheering wildly, though it was completely drowned out by the outrageously raucous crowd. The visiting team was just getting finished with their introduction.

“And, at center, the Landstrider’s leading scorer and captain of the team, number 66, Tolyn!” Loud boos overwhelmed any cheers there might have been for the Spriton center, causing him to shake his stick angrily at his many detractors.

“And now, the roster of our very own home team, the Ha’rar State University Fighting Paladins!” The crowd cheered loudly in response. “For the tertiary line, at left wing it’s number 86, Mira!” A thin Vapra girl quickly skated out on the ice, waving to her fans. “On right wing we’ve got number 18, Deet!” A Grottan girl and Rian’s girlfriend skated over to bump gloves with Mira. “And at center, number 8, the incomparable Rian!” The Stonewood skated out strong, charming all the ladies as he waved to the crowd. “For our secondary offensive line, we’ve got our newest player, number 45, Galen!” A Spriton, taller than both Kylan and Tolyn skated reservedly onto the ice. “Coming in on right wing like a thief in the night, it’s number 13, Periss!” The youngest of the team, a Dousan boy with a rakish attitude glided out, taking bows and throwing kisses as he went. “And, at center, number 7, Bold Gurjin!” The great oaf was light as a feather as he slid past his teammates, giving Kylan’s helmet an affectionate smack as he passed him. “And now for our secondary defenseman. On the right, give it up for number 3, Brea!” Tavra’s younger, bookish sister skated calmly into place, absorbing any information she could about her enemies. “And on the left, it’s number 69, ladies let out a cheer for Rek’yr!” The tattoo-faced man skated grandly into place, blowing kisses to his many lady followers, who screamed in response, one of them fainting.

“And now, everybody give it up for our starting roster. On left wing, we’ve got number 4, the mysterious and shadowy Amri!” Amri had already snuck into his place in line at this point. “On right wing, number 32, our ever-melodious Kylan!” The lanky Spriton skated calmly into place, doing his best not to be intimidated at the sight of Tolyn pretending to slash his throat, the universal bully sign for ‘you’re dead meat’. “And at center, number 17, it’s Fierce Naia!” Naia charged onto the ice, letting out a growling war cry as she bumped gloves with all her teammates, nearly knocking some of them over in her zeal. “And starting for the defense, we’ve got number 49, Ellis!” A Vapra senior a few years older than Tavra skated out. “And don’t forget his partner, your favorite player and mine, that devastating lavender tornado, the Tremendous Tavra!” The crowd got even louder somehow as Tavra regally entered the rink, smiling at her comrades and looking disdainfully over at her opponents. “And last, but certainly not least, that eccentric and crazy girl you know and love, the goalie, number 00, Zili!” Zili skated out powerfully in her heavy goalie pads, ready to protect and defend her net with all she had.

“Whoo! Yeaaayuhh, let’s do this!” Zili riled up the crowd even more, forcing the officials to wait several minutes until things died down to start. The Skarith Land’s flag was lowered down over the rink by wires, as the country’s national anthem played. Once it was over, the teams headed for their respective benches while the captains of each team came and shook hands. Tavra took her hand out of her glove, offering it to Tolyn, who merely scoffed at it and took off to his own bench. Tavra looked at Kylan and Naia.

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.” The three skated over to their team, who were being given a last-minute pep talk by Coach Madso.

“Alright, lads and lassies, get out there and follow the plan. Don’t let them goad you into penalties we can’t afford. Stay onside, and for Thra’s sake, protect each other. We don’t need anymore broken arms, right Kylan?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

“OK!” Tavra barked. “Sticks in!” Everyone gathered in a circle, sticks placed in the middle, pointed downward. “Paladins on three! One, two, three-”

“PALADINS!” With that, the other lines went to the bench and the starters to their places. The referee checked to make sure each goalie was ready, and the centers faced off. The puck is dropped, and the game begins!

-------

It’s late in the third period. Both teams are exhausted from holding each other to a standstill. Neither had scored so far, and the crowd was getting restless with tension. Back and forth across the ice they raced. Naia had the puck on a small breakaway, Kylan assisting her as they passed the flat black object between each other, desperate to keep it away from the Landstriders. Suddenly, Kylan got pinned to the boards as he tried to dig the puck out from the edge of the rink. The enemy player’s skate kept blocking his stick and he couldn’t twist his body the right way to get it. What Kylan didn’t see was that across the rink, Tolyn had locked onto him. He charged, barreling straight at the unwary Spriton. But just as he was about to slam the music major into the boards, something tripped him from behind. He landed flat on his face, sliding hard into the boards from his momentum. A whistle was sounded, stopping play.

“Number 17, Paladins, two minutes, tripping.” It didn’t matter that Naia had stopped Tolyn from breaking Kylan’s clavicle, she got stuck with the penalty. Now they were one gelf down, on a powerplay in the Landstrider’s favor, at the very end of the game. They only needed to last two minutes, but with Tolyn lurking out on the ice, it might as well have been two trine. Coach Madso called timeout, gathering his brave Paladins to his benchside.

“Alright my soldiers, this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna hold the line as best we can. I need Gurjin on right, Deet, you’re on center. Use any tricks you’ve got to be in front of that net. Tavra, Brea, you’re in at D. Tavra, you’ve got the fast slapshot. Everyone else, get the puck into the Landstrider zone, and then get it to Tavra. She and Deet will do the rest. Are we clear?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Paladins on three. One, two, three-”

“PALADINS!” The selected players went to their spots. Deet took the faceoff. When the puck dropped, Tolyn made to tackle the small Grottan to the ground, but when he aimed high, she went low, ducking beneath his arms and skating away with the puck. Gurjin plowed through his opponent, flanking Deet on the right. Tavra and Brea trailed behind, stopping just inside the Landstrider blue line. They skated circles in place, watching the puck bounce back and forth between Gurjin and Deet, trying to thwart their attackers and draw them away from the net so Tavra could get a clear shot. The clock began to wind down. The two-minute penalty passed and Naia quickly skated to the bench, where she was replaced by Amri, who drove hard into the occupied zone to help Gurjin and Deet. Deet passed to Gurjin, who was immediately dogged by Tolyn and his right wing, Lun. Pinned against the boards, all Gurjin could do was kick his leg, which he did, successfully knocking the puck along the boards and over to Amri, who slipped and slid around his attacker like a snake through wet grass. His ears perked as he heard Coach Madso cry out.

“Hey! Get it to Tavra! She’s open! Ten seconds left! Make the pass, Amri!” Amri whipped around, searching for his teammate. Tavra was in shotgun position, ready to take aim as soon as she’s given ammo. Amri flicked the puck over to her. She barely stopped it before pulling her stick back and firing it hard through the air and over the center of the ice. The goalie reached for it…It’s…It’s…CLANG! It’s deflected! But what’s this? SMACK!

The crowd waited with bated breath. Tavra stared forward, dropping to her knees.

Wee-Ooh! The scoring siren finally sounded. It’s good! Deet had indeed been waiting, and when the puck glanced off the post, she was right there with the rebound. Her teammates suddenly surrounded her, giving a group hug and patting her hard on the back, screaming they’d won. Tavra, still on her knees, looked upward, not trusting the scoreboard. It was 1-0 Home, and the clock had one tenth of a second left. The following faceoff was just a formality, as the clock ran out and the siren sounded once more, signaling the end of the game, and of the tournament. Trophies were handed out in a ceremony before everyone started to head home. But, just before the team left the ice, Gurjin shouted to the crowd:

“Victory party at Gyr Hall!” Cheers were heard as they departed to the locker room to shower and change before heading to the party. Tavra took her time cleaning up, in no rush for the festivities. All she wanted was to enjoy the energy rush she’d gotten from a game well-played. But, as team captain, she was obligated to go, at least, that’s what Naia and Gurjin said. Kylan gave her an out, but he was quickly overruled by Rian and Deet, so Tavra had no choice. She would socialize, whether she wanted to or not.

-------

“Tae, do we have to go to this thing? All that crowd noise gave me a headache.” It was Onica’s last-ditch effort to escape the party. Tae just rolled her eyes.

“You’re fine. Don’t be such a drama queen. Besides, Zili knows we’re here, we can’t just walk out on her. There she is, Zili! Over here, girl!” After meeting up with the goaltender, who was just as weird as Onica had heard, Zili escorted them over to Gyr Hall and the party held within. The voices of others were all that was heard within the crowded dorm hall. The music was still being set up, but Gurjin kept interfering to flirt with Kylan, who was in charge of tunes. Zili moved passed them, searching for the boy Tae wanted to meet with. Galen was finally spotted talking to Amri, joining them when Zili called him away.

“Alrighty. Galen, this is Tae. Tae, Galen. Ok, let’s see some love sparks fly. Go on, you two. Scoot!” The two walked off, Tae apologizing to Onica for leaving her there with her eyes. Onica sighed lightly, she knew this would happen. She opted to plop down on a vacant couch, people watching to pass the time. Twenty minutes went by, during which Onica grabbed herself a beer from a nearby cooler. She sipped the bitter liquid slowly, not desiring a buzz, but merely drinking it as something to do. Just as she’d talked herself into grabbing one more, there was shouting coming from the front street. Changing her mind on the drink, the redhead decided to see what was going on.

A tall Gelfling of Spriton descent stood in front of a group of students, some of which Onica recognized as being part of the Landstrider’s roster. They’d had their helmets off when receiving their second-place trophy.

I guess that means the one in front is Tolyn. Not the most attractive of team captains, is he…Onica thought, watching the scene unfold. More shouting was then heard coming from the dorm’s side entrance, before a group of Paladins emerged, a beautiful silver and lavender haired woman at their head. And that must be Tavra. What an attractive Silverling. Perhaps Tae was right. Maybe I should find someone else. Tavra stepped right up in Tolyn’s face, not backing down.

“This is a private engagement, my good Landstriders. Please leave, before things get ugly.” The cracking of knuckles reinforced her words, Naia’s fists providing the sound effect. Tolyn just gave a cocky grin.

“Aww…is the big, brave Paladin afraid one of us Landstriders are gonna hurt one of her friends again? By the way, Ky, how’s the arm?” Kylan grabbed his forearm, defensively pulling it to his chest.

“I-It’s fine.” Gurjin stepped in front of his boyfriend.

“Leave him be, Tolyn. You touch him, and I won’t stop at just your arm.” Kylan grabbed Gurjin before he did something foolish, attempting to calm him down. Tolyn just scoffed.

“Tch! You need to keep a better leash on your Drenchen mutt, Tavra. Kylan betrayed his own, so he’s fair game to us.”

“Oh, my Thra, he changed schools! There’s no betrayal in that. STU didn’t have a music program, so he switched. You can’t fault him for that.” Naia jumped in, standing next to her brother and further blocking Kylan from Tolyn’s wrath.

“I take back what I said,” Tolyn paused. “It looks like you’ve got two Drenchen dogs you need to teach discipline to. You really got your work cut out for you, don’t ya, Katavra.” Tavra flinched at the use of her full name. Only her mother called her that, and when it happened, it wasn’t going to be good. Tavra stared at Tolyn coldly.

“Just leave, Tolyn. You’ve had your fun. Enough is enough.” Tavra turned, attempting to end the incident, but Tolyn wasn’t of the mind to leave. Onica watched as he snuck up behind her back.

“Oh, no. H-Hey! Tavra, look out!” Onica’s warning came too little too late, as Tolyn turned Tavra by her shoulder, only to haul back and hit her right on the jaw with a sickening crack. The poor woman was knocked off her feet, saved from hitting the ground by Gurjin, as Naia charged forward with the rest of the team in retaliation. A fight broke out, the Paladins easily outwitting and out-brawling their opponents, only to chase after them as they tried to retreat. Gurjin had left Tavra with Onica, who had approached to see if she could help. The Drenchen charged into the melee, flinging Landstriders left and right. Brea came over to where her sister lay with a washcloth and ice, handing them to Onica before grabbing her phone to call campus police. The Sifa placed the ice gently to Tavra’s already swelling jaw. The dazed Silverling gazed up at her, a strange smile spread across her face.

“Hmm…I must be dead…” Onica looked at her oddly.

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve got a beautiful, red-haired angel taking care of me. If this isn’t paradise, I don’t know what is.” Onica chuckled at the rather forward-speaking Vapra.

“Well, I’m afraid this isn’t paradise, but if you’d like, I can care for you a little while longer.” Tavra smiled at her, before suddenly pulling her in for a dazed and clumsy kiss. Onica pulled back, blushing wildly.

“I’d really like that. My name is Tavra. And what is the name of the gorgeous angel that’s caring for me, if you don’t mind my asking.” Onica blushed even further, beguiled by the Vapra girl’s charms.

“I’m-uh…I-I’m Onica.” Tavra took her hand, holding it up to her lips for a kiss nearly missing it because of her dizziness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear lady Onica. I hope we can get to know each other better, that is, once my jaw stops hurting so much. *Groan* Coach is going to be so mad at me if I can’t practice tomorrow.” Onica placed a gentle hand to the uninjured side of Tavra’s face.

“Lucky for you, my hobbies include learning traditional Sifa herbal Less side effects than regular medications. And I guarantee you’ll be up and skating by tomorrow. Now, let’s get you up and into bed.” Onica helped Tavra to her feet, the Vapra swinging an arm around the other girl’s shoulders.

“You’ve known me less than ten minutes, and already you’re trying to get me into bed. My, my, don’t you work fast.” Onica rolled her eyes, but still laughed quietly.

I think I’m beginning to like this girl. With that last, lingering thought, the two walked unsteadily into the dorm, and into a wonderful new relationship.

-DK

[nickelkeep]

Twas the Night

Pairing: Dean/Cas - Timestamp to Like the Angel Rating: Teen, to be on the safe side. Word Count: 3500 Warnings: Tooth. Rotting. Fluff. Written For: @notfunnydean​‘s 2019 SPN Advent Calendar Day 11 - Christmas Story On Ao3

Quick Side Note - I’ve been sick, which is why you haven’t seen one of these in a while. I missed days 12 through 15, which I have made reference to in the fic. There’s a better explanation if you follow the Ao3 Link. 😘

---

“Daddy?”

Dean shook his head as Emma called him from down the hallway. Sixteen years old, and she knew that she could get just about anything she wanted by singsonging ‘daddy’ instead of just calling him Dad. “What’s up, Em?”

“It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean got up from his bed and walked down the hallway to Emma’s room and leaned against her doorframe. “You gonna tell me something I don’t know, Kiddo?”

“We need to get started!” Emma was sitting on her floor with her back to the door. “It’s Cas’ first Christmas with us, and I want to make sure he enjoys it.”

Dean smiled. “Whatcha got there?”

“It’s uh, it’s a part of his Christmas present.” Emma looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“You’re not going to tell me what it is?” Dean stepped closer to look over Emma and see what she was making or doing. “You know I can keep a secret, Em.”

Emma blushed bright red. “I was gonna, you know, that thing we talked about a week ago.”

“Say no more, Kiddo.” Dean squatted down next to Emma and pulled her into a hug. “Cas is gonna love it.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad one of us is sure of it.”

Dean stood back up and rested his hands on his lower back. “You gonna come help me make breakfast?”

“Cinnamon Rolls? Or are you going to try that new recipe you found?” Emma gathered the items that had been spread out on the floor around her and stacked them neatly in a pile before standing up. “I’m okay with trying something new for breakfast.”

“Is this that new tradition thing you’ve been pushing?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and smiled fondly at his daughter. “I love how much you want to make sure Cas is included.” He started backing up towards the door. “Come help me make the Honey Bread?”

Emma returned the smile and followed down to the kitchen.

---

Cas made it downstairs to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something baked or baking in the oven. Emma was sitting at the kitchen island drawing while Dean was standing over the stove dancing and singing along to some Christmas song. “You still working on that drawing, Em?

Emma looked up and shook her head. “Nope, these are just some warmup sketches. Wanna see?”

“Of course.” Cas stopped and gave Dean a kiss before sitting on the stool next to Emma’s. “Looks like you’re in the Christmas spirit.” Cas pointed to one of the figures. “Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Be?”

“Yep! I really liked Mr. Roche’s lesson on A Christmas Carol.” Emma smiled. “Did you check to see if I get to be in your class next semester, Cas?”

“Which one?”

Emma shot one of her Uncle Sam’s bitchfaces at Cas. “Really, Cas?”

“Yes, you are in my Mythology in Modern Literature class.” Cas chuckled. “But, remember, Ms. Milton wasn’t really sure that with your dad and I dating that it would be a good idea. We gotta prove that this will work.” Dean set a mug of coffee in front of Cas, and Cas immediately picked it up to drink. “I know that we’ll be fine, but we have to make sure I’m not showing favoritism.”

“I didn’t slack last year.” Emma pouted.

Cas tucked a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. “Which is why Ms. Milton said it was okay for you to be in the class and for me to teach it.”

“Coming in!” Dean placed a plate in front of Cas and waited as Emma moved her drawing stuff before setting hers breakfast down. “Sorry to interrupt serious school talk.”

“Dean, you told me you guys do cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning.” Cas tilted his head. “What’s this?”

“Em and I found the recipe online and thought it might be something you would like.” Dean set some sort of spread on the table. “It’s a honey bread, with cinnamon sugar butter. And of course, bacon, because God forbid I don’t ever make you two bacon.”

Dean’s quip earned a chuckle from both Emma and Cas. Cas watched as Dean finished putting together his own plate and sat down with them before taking a bite of the bread. “Wow,” Cas replied with food in his mouth, causing Dean to roll his eyes. Cas swallowed his food before speaking again. “I’m serious, this is really good.” He reached for the butter and started spreading it on.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Cas.” Dean popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“I am.” Cas took a bite of the bread with the butter and moaned happily. “So good.”

“Cas, you’d think you never had food before.” Emma snarked.

“I’m always a sucker for new foods that are delicious.” Cas winked at her. “So, you two haven’t told me what you all do on Christmas Eve, besides breakfast, of course.”

Emma looked at Dean, who nodded in approval. “Well, after breakfast, we usually go and get any last-minute gifts and pick up anything that Gramma Ellen might need for dinner.”

“Ma feeds us at the Roadhouse,” Dean elaborated, “She won’t know for certain what she needs for dinner tonight until she does a quick inventory check after closing. She’ll probably be calling in the next…” Dean looked at the clock on the microwave. “Ten to fifteen minutes.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” Cas propped his chin on his hand. “So should we get dressed?”

Dean shrugged. “Not to sound apathetic, but while it sounds like a day of adventure, we’re still kinda lazy. Usually, Ma calls, then we get dressed. But, if you’re raring to go.”

“Sorry, just looking to spending this Christmas with my…” Cas looked back and forth between Dean and Emma. “With my family.”

“Well, Cas. We want to celebrate it with you too.” Dean stood up and grabbed the empty plates, taking them over to the sink and rinsing them off.

“We want to know your traditions too. We don’t want to force you into a mold. We’ve grown as a family, so we have room to take in and make new traditions.” Emma took Cas’ mug and took a drink from it. “You really need coffee with your cream, Cas.”

Cas laughed and ruffled Emma’s hair. “Let’s go get dressed then, and your dad can follow suit. I’ll show you two what I do on Christmas Eve.”

“Do we need to get fancy-dressed?” Emma raised her eyebrow.

“No, Emma, jeans are fine.” Emma did a little happy dance and headed off to her room. Cas looked at Dean. “‘Fancy-dressed’ is your phrase, isn’t it?”

“What can I say, Angel? Emma and I are simple creatures.” Dean closed the dishwasher and started it before crossing over to Cas. He pressed his lips against Cas’ temple, leaving a soft kiss. “Let’s go get changed.”

---

As Dean had promised, Ellen called with a list of groceries for their dinner. After stopping to pick up their last-minute Christmas Gifts, Dean, Cas, and Emma stopped by the grocery store to grab the items for dinner. They swung by the Roadhouse and dropped them off, asking if there’s anything they could do to help with dinner. Ellen playfully swatted at Dean with a towel and promised that Jo and Charlie already claimed the elf honors for the year.

After joking about food poisoning - “Did they forget that Charlie could burn water?” Dean complained in jest - Cas took Dean’s phone and plugged in an address in the maps app.

The location Dean pulled the Impala in front of turned out to be a homeless shelter. “What’s all this, Cas?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Cas explained, but he continued when Emma leaned over the front seat. “I haven’t told you much about when I was in college, Emma. But I didn’t go for what my parents wanted me to go for. It was bad enough that I was gay, but to completely misuse their gift of college was the last straw. I was just short of disowned. So, my first year after I graduated college, I was completely alone on Christmas Eve.” Cas paused and ran his fingers through Emma’s hair. “It’s okay. I’m okay, as you can see now. But then, I was a new teacher, I didn’t know anyone well enough, and I had nowhere to go. 

“Instead of moping around my empty apartment watching TV by myself with just Chinese food to keep me company, I pulled out my laptop. I found the closest LGBT friendly shelter.” He gestured to the building they were parked next to. “I called and asked if they did any kind of dinner, and the rest is history. I felt loved, I felt safe, and I felt good giving to people who didn’t have even the little bit I had. So, every Christmas Eve I come here. To thank them for taking me and accepting me when my own family wouldn’t. Some years I even join in for Christmas, even though they don’t necessarily need me on that day.” Cas turned to face Dean. “Remember, you asked where I sometimes go when I don’t come home right away?” Dean nodded. “It’s here.”

Cas patted the back of the seat and smiled. “Let’s get you two inside and introduce you both to the people who run the shelter and those in charge of the kitchen.”

“That sounds great, Cas.” Dean beamed at him.

Once inside, Cas was greeted by several members of the staff with whom he was familiar. They were excited to meet Dean and Emma. They had heard so much about them over the past several months. Cas had bragged about Dean’s skills in the kitchen, and he was quickly got roped into helping cook. Cas took his usual spot on the serving line. Emma was a little too young to help with the food– “I just turned sixteen!” She complained. –but they asked her to play with the younger kids and watch over them.

They stuck around for as long as they could. Dean had to literally pull Emma away from the younger kids, and Cas bribed her with the promise they would come back sooner than next Christmas. She spent the entire drive to the Roadhouse recounting her stories of playing with the kids, bringing smiles to Dean’s and Cas’ face.

Once they pulled into a spot, Emma practically leaped out of the car and ran inside. Dean and Cas took a moment to look at each other and revel in her enthusiasm before getting out themselves and grabbing presents out of the back of the car.

“You think she would have helped us.” Dean smiled at Cas, kissing him on the corner of his mouth before heading inside. “Oh, by the way. Ma has probably hung up at least a dozen sprigs of mistletoe.”

Cas laughed and looked up. “Looks like we hit the first one.” He leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek.

---

After dinner and introducing Cas to their Christmas Eve Present tradition, Dean excused the three of them from the drinking games portion of the evening. There was no argument from any member of his family, which Dean was grateful for. He walked behind Cas and Emma, watching as Cas wrapped his arm around Emma and hugged her tightly. Warmth flowed through him, and he silently kicked himself for not having his phone out to snap a photo.

Emma curled up with a new blanket that Charlie made her, while Cas admired a first edition copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that Sam gave him. Dean snuck glances at them both on the ride home, excited for what was next.

As he pulled into the driveway, Dean looked at Emma. “You wanna tell Cas about our last tradition, Kiddo?”

“Cas, do you know The Tailor of Gloucester?” Emma yawned and slid out of the backseat before Cas could answer.

“I do,” Cas replied, getting out of the car right behind Emma. “Beatrix Potter. It’s a Christmas story of hers. Why?”

“Dad tucks me in and reads it to me.” Emma blushed. “I know I’m probably too old for that now.”

Cas pulled Emma into another hug. “You’re never too old to enjoy having someone read to you. Your dad bugs me to read to him occasionally.”

“Will you read it tonight?” Emma asked.

“But, you just said it’s you and your dad’s thing.” Cas looked at Dean with a look that Dean was pretty sure equated to asking for help.

“It’s fine, Cas. I already knew Em was going to ask.” Dean winked and walked to the front door. “Let’s get inside, so we don’t freeze, and then we can all curl up in Emma’s bed and enjoy the story.”

The suggestion appeared to calm Cas down, and the trio entered the house to warm up. Emma ran ahead upstairs, while Cas and Dean took their time climbing the stairs.

“Dean, I don’t want to step on your toes,” Cas commented, concern still in his voice.

They entered their room, and Dean cupped Cas’ face in his hands. “I promise that you’re not. Do it this year, and next year we can do it together, or we can take turns to who does it.” Dean ran his thumb over Cas’ cheek before crossing to their dresser. He grabbed a pair of Cas’ pajama pants and tossed them to him. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

Cas and Dean finished changing and walked down to Emma’s room. She had left the door open for them to come in. 

“Hop under the blanket, Kiddo.” Dean pointed at the bed, and Emma obliged him, quickly scrambling to climb under the covers. She grabbed the book off of her nightstand and waited until Cas was sitting next to her.

“Last call, Emma. Are you sure you want me to read it?” Cas hesitated as he took the book and opened the cover.

“Yes, Cas, I’m sure. I’m positive. I’m 16, not six.” She stuck her tongue out at Cas and was bopped on the nose playfully.

“I hear you. Just…” Cas took a deep breath and relaxed, leaning back against her headboard. “Thank you, Emma.” He shot a warm look at Dean, which Dean responded to with a hair ruffle. “‘In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets—when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta—there lived a tailor in Gloucester…’”

As the story continued, Dean would occasionally poke Emma to keep her awake, knowing how she was prone to fall asleep when being read to. He smiled as he watched Cas animate the story with his body and his voice. Even Dean could admit to finding a new love for the story, with Cas reading it in his own way.

“‘He made the most wonderful waistcoats for all the rich merchants of Gloucester, and for all the fine gentlemen of the country round.

“‘Never were seen such ruffles, or such embroidered cuffs and lappets! But his button-holes were the greatest triumph of it all.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so neat—so neat—I wonder how they could be stitched by an old man in spectacles, with crooked old fingers, and a tailor’s thimble.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so small—so small—they looked as if they had been made by little mice!” 

Cas turned the page to get to “The End,” but found in its place a sticky note. “What’s this, Emma?” He pulled it off and read it. “‘Ask Emma for your card.’ What card would that be?”

Emma reached under her pillow and pulled out a card. “Merry Christmas, Cas.” She handed it to him and smiled, cuddling up against Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

“Thank you?” Cas tilted his head and opened the envelope. “Oh, good, no glitter.”

“Glitter is the herpes of the craft world, Cas.” Emma laughed.

“Is that your Dad or your Aunt Charlie?” Cas pulled out the card. On the front was a stylized picture of two dads and a daughter. “‘Your art only gets better and better, Emma.” He opened the card and started reading it to himself. Cas smiled until he got to a particular spot and froze. He looked back and forth between Emma and Dean, tears building up in his eyes. “Emma?”

Dean had pulled out his phone and set it to record. “What’s it say, Cas?”

“You knew.” Cas pointed at Dean and sniffled, fighting to hold back his tears. “Dear Cas. I want to thank you for so many things. First, for being my teacher. You have taught me so much, and not just from the books you share. I’ve learned about caring and compassion.” Cas smiled at Emma, “Your dad has taught you a lot of that too.”

“Hush, Cas, keep reading.” Dean smiled.

“Thank you for making Dad happy and becoming apart of our family. While we were content, you brought a new kind of happiness to our lives.” Cas reached forward and tucked Emma’s hair behind her ear. “You two have brought such joy to my life.”

Emma leaned into Cas’ touch, smiling.

“Since I’m running out of the room on this card, let me thank you for being my other Dad. I never knew I was missing a second parent until you became mine.” Cas sobbed softly. “Merry Christmas, Papa. I love you, Em.” Cas pulled Emma into his arms. “I love you too, Emma.”

“If you don’t like Papa, we can pick something else.” Emma looked up. “Or I can keep calling you Cas.”

Cas wiped away a tear from Dean’s face, and then one from Emma’s. “Emma, I am proud to be your Papa. Thank you for letting me.”

Emma surged forward and wrapped her arms around Cas’ neck. “Love you, Papa.” Dean wrapped his arms around both of them, causing Emma to giggle. “You know I love you, Dad.”

“Of course I do, Kiddo. I just needed to hug my two favorite people.” Dean planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Time for bed, though.” Dean stood up and walked to the other side of Emma’s bed and offered his hand to Cas, helping him to his feet. “If you don’t go to sleep, Santa won’t come.”

“Really, Dad?”

“Yep. No presents for daughters who remind their Dads of their age, either.” Dean pointed at Emma, winking as Cas dragged him out of the room. Dean quietly closed the door behind them and turned to smile at his partner. He gently cupped Cas’ cheek and rested their foreheads together. “Can I give you your present now?”

Cas smirked as they walked to their room. “Did you get me the nutcracker I asked for?”

“You were serious about that?” Dean laughed, entering their room, and heading to the closet. “I thought you were just a Grinch when I asked what you wanted.”

“I was a little facetious.” Dean handed Cas a few presents as he continued. “Remember what I said at the shelter earlier?”

“Of course, Angel.” Dean loaded up his own arms and gestured to the door. “I knew about your family, that was one of the first things I learned about you. I want to give you the holiday that you haven’t been able to experience in years.”

Cas led the way downstairs to the Christmas Tree. “You’ve already done so much, Dean. You and Emma both. I haven’t had a Christmas this memorable since my first one after graduating college.” He set the boxes down and turned to look at Dean. “I love that you want to do this for me, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean set the presents under the tree and took the ones out of Cas’ arms. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I did, I asked if you got me a nutcracker.” Cas crossed his arms. “None of those boxes look like they could be a nutcracker.”

“Cas.” Dean rotated toward Cas while dropping to one knee. He pulled a box out of his pocket. “I know this is probably a little soon, but when you know something is right, you shouldn’t let it go.”

Dean watched as Cas’ face twisted in confusion before brightening in understanding. “Dean, is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean swallowed and nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he cracked the box open. “Emma said it best: We were happy, but you brought us something we didn’t know we were missing.” Dean paused and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Marry me, Cas?”

Cas broke out into a brilliant smile and reached to the Christmas tree, pulling off an ornament. “I lied about this one.” Cas fell to one knee in front of Dean, putting them at the same level. “I’ll marry you on one condition.” He twisted the ornament and took the top off, revealing his own ring. “You say yes, also.”

“Hell, yes.” Dean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Cas’ - his fiance’s - neck, and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.10, “The Quacks”

The episode picks up not long after the last episode ended, with Buffy asking her friends just what in the hell that Secret Society scheme was all about.

Her friends, who were super excited to help Walker out last week, waste no time throwing him under the bus now.

Jonah didn’t like the Secret Society stuff.

Cyrus didn’t like the robes.

Andi thinks it was kind of a sick way to ask someone to a dance.

Walker watch out for the bus oh my god he has airpods in he can’t hear us! oh my god!

Buffy reels off a list of the things she didn’t like about what happened: no to surprises, no to being put on the spot, and no to predictability. The candles were cool though.

Andi asks if Buffy still likes Walker and she gives a resounding ehh. Buffy explains that Walker made her shoes like how he made Andi shoes once, a long time ago. Andi thinks that is so wrong. Buffy says it’s his “signature move.” Andi and Buffy imagine Walker’s given shoes to every girl in town.

Am I going crazy here? He’s an artist? He makes artsy gifts for people? This would be like getting mad at Andi for making you a craft gift. It’s what she does! It’s not like Walker’s going around giving everyone cheap store-bought gifts like horrible little gnomes or neon green shoelaces. As long as he didn’t copy the exact mural he made with Andi that one time, what’s the problem? It’s a homemade gift. He had to spend time working on it. It’s still really nice. By this standard, would he have also not been allowed to make a drawing of Buffy as a gift? He’s already done that for Andi so that’s off the table. Find a new way to be creative, Walker. Make a necklace out of discarded soda can tabs or make a headband out of an old belt or something. I know art is your thing, but, sorry, you’ve played that card. It’s over now. Move on.

By the way, Andi and Buffy assume, with zero evidence, that Walker is going around town giving shoes to every girl like an unfixed cobbler in heat. Why?

They also assume all those girls would wear those shoes he gave them as gifts to public places like the school dance, despite not being in a relationship with him. I do feel like most people wouldn’t wear something an ex gave them while currently being in a relationship with another person. That’s so thoughtless. Wear shoes Walker gave you as a romantic gift while hanging out around your current boyfriend? Who in the world would behave like that? That would be crazy. A monument to poor decision making. I simply can’t imagine.

Aaaaaanyway, Cyrus assumes that’s it then. Buffy’s breaking up with Walker. And Buffy’s like, yeah, we’re done. I’m ghosting him. Cyrus tells her that’s not good enough. Talk to him. Break up with him in person.

Feels like Cyrus could save himself a lot of energy by recording a voice memo on his phone that says “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” and just playing it for his friends over and over again.

Buffy thinks Walker knows, but Jonah assures her he doesn’t because: “He’s a guy.”

The pinpoint accuracy of those three words rattles Buffy to her core.

At the dance studio, Cyrus... dances?

...has a seizure?

...gets attacked by a swarm of gnats?

...reenacts the Ides of March?

...is possessed by the spirit of an evil marionette?

I’m just not sure.

Amber shows up and asks if he’s rehearsing being electrocuted.

Ah. Damn. That’s a good one.

Cyrus tells her he has to come up with an original dance for his choreography final and perform it. Wild that he’s already got a final exam. His dance class was like a month long. No wonder it seems like all he’s learned to do is flail his arms about. Amber volunteers to tutor him in the art of dance choreography.

Wait, does Amber know how to dance? I mean, I guess she did at the house party that one time. But can she really teach Cyrus to capture the raw, super strange energy of this performance?

I have my doubts.

Over at Bex’s, Bowie presents Andi and Bex with a surprise.

That’s right! A plank!

Andi wants to know who the Quinns are. Bowie thinks they all will be, after the marriage. Bex isn’t so sure. (Maybe hyphenate?) Bowie thinks it’s important, bonding them all together as a tribe, but Bex also thinks it’s important for everyone to choose their own identity. (Hyphenate?) Mack is part of who Bex is. For example, it’s on her bowling shirt. (Hyphenate. Stitch “-Quinn” right on to the end of that bad boy.)

Andi proposes they mash up their names but they realize that would make them the Quacks and abandon that idea so quickly they never even consider they could also become the Mann family, which is pretty sweet.

Back at the dance studio, Amber asks Cyrus to touch his toes. He can’t, but in fairness, he’s only been at this dance thing for like two weeks.

Amber tries to get him to do some moves but Cyrus says it’s too hard, so Amber hair-slaps some sense into him.

At the gym for the first Spikes game, Buffy watches the opposing team warmup and settles into some depressing fatalism.

Her teammate, who the end credits tell me was named Kaitlin, says the team is well-aware of that because Buffy’s been saying it all week. Kaitlin tries to get Buffy to say something that builds confidence in the team but Buffy’s not interested.

The team’s coach shows up.

Her name is Mrs. Deborah Mendenhall. She’s the guidance counselor. She’s also late to the game, knows nothing about basketball, has the gait and posture of an elderly woman, and is dressed like a flight attendant for some reason.

On the bright side, she brought orange slices.

So at least no one will get scurvy.

Kaitlin points out that the good news is they don’t have enough girls to even play. Buffy’s shocked no one else is coming and wants to know why. Kaitlin tells her it’s probably because Buffy’s spent the entire week telling everyone they were going to lose and be humiliated.

Look, say what you will about TJ as a team captain, but he only went after one player on his team. Buffy recruited this girls’ team, then spent several weeks alienating and insulting them and eventually got 2/3s of her team to quit before they even got to play their first game.

I hope she’s cleared her calendar for a ton of redemption arcs.

Buffy says the loss would have been really embarrassing, but now they’re going to have to forfeit, which she feels is way worse.

I disagree. You can forfeit with some dignity. Floundering around the court while the other team beats you down leaves barely any room for that.

It’s like this. Say you’re going to a party, but right before you get there, you get mud all over the back of your pants. Huge stain. Can’t get it out. Just go home, right? Forfeit the evening. You walk into that party and everyone’s going to think you had a horrible accident. You can desperately try to explain it’s mud, or you can try to own it in some weird way I can’t even imagine, but let’s be honest, all you’re going to get is a mean nickname and an unflattering reputation about town.

The lesson, kids, is if you have a chance to forfeit, forfeit.

Buffy decides, instead, she’s going to try calling the team.

Up in the stands, Andi asks Libby if she’s still planning on breaking up with Jonah. Libby is. She then points at Jonah and mimics him texting like a dope. Jonah, who is good at picking up subtle hints, wonders if these two are talking about him.

Buffy has no luck convincing anyone from the team to come get publicly humiliated. I say call TJ. Tell him to grab a wig and race down to the gym. Worth a shot.

Instead Buffy looks into the stands to try and find a replacement. She spots her artsy friend who’s shown almost zero athletic ability over the years...

...and thinks, yep, there’s the ticket.

So, Buffy drags Andi out of the bleachers and to the locker room to change as Jonah and Cyrus head up to sit next to Libby.

Cyrus greets Libby with sign language.

Oh, by the way, Cyrus also knows sign language now. Where did he find the time? I can barely commit to the 10 minute Duolingo Spanish lessons on my phone.

Jonah asks Cyrus to do some translating. He wants to know if Libby is mad at him. Libby wants him to learn sign language. Jonah apologizes through Cyrus, but Libby walks away.

Cyrus tells Jonah texting Libby used to be an okay way to communicate, but now the two have been going out for a while. Perfect opportunity for him to pull out his phone and play the “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” message.

Also, a while? It’s not been like, a couple weeks? Cyrus’s dance class is over already, Buffy’s team is just now having their first game of the season, Jonah and Libby have been dating two years and I’ve lost complete understanding of the timeline again.

Jonah says he hasn’t learned because he’s afraid he’ll be bad at it.

Cyrus says it’ll be enough if he’s making the effort, but I just want to put this back on the table: forfeit the relationship. Take your mud-stained pants and go home.

At Bex’s, Bex approaches Bowie to do some compatibility testing of their relationship by asking some big questions and jotting down some answers to compare.

Bowie asks her about calzones. I’ll take this one, Bex. It’s pizza with excess bread. It’s hard to get a good cook on the stuffing. The toppings are rarely dispersed in a satisfying way. Not worth it.

Oh? Guess Bex and I are more compatible than I thought.

Bex wants to play seriously though, so they jump in. Bex asks if Bowie would ever want to have more kids, to which Bowie is like...

I mean, why not? If it all goes wrong, Celia’s still around, right?

Buffy brings her newest basketball recruit out to the gym so the game can finally begin. Things don’t start so hot.

Andi gets a pass and then takes off running with the ball like a halfback on a football team.

She forgot about dribbling. Bad sign. Dribbling is probably the second rule almost all people know about basketball behind knowing that the ball has to go into the basket to score points. God, I hope she remembers that at least.

Things don’t get much better from there. The public humiliation of the basketball team happens just as it was foretold.

Mrs. Mendenhall, meanwhile, spends time handing out snacks to the opposing team.

I’d normally be mad about this but she clearly has too many oranges. There’s only five people on Buffy’s team. Might as well not let them go to waste.

Andi gets the ball again and immediately turns it over.

Buffy was worried about being embarrassed, but honestly, Andi’s taking the brunt of it here. Maybe stop giving her the ball? Save her from herself.

Buffy mercifully calls a timeout to think things over.

She pulls the team into a huddle. They think she’s going to chew them out, but instead, she thanks them for showing up. She apologizes for being a bad captain and says she’s realized losing is not the worst thing ever. It’s great that those who showed up are there and that they’re in the game.

Or, basically, isn’t it nice to just be alive and doing stuff? Which is a decent message for life but a really low bar to hurdle for team sports. Congrats to us all on not dying.

They start playing again with a newfound, joyous outlook. I’m glad they’re happy with this, but their play is hurting me physically.

Kaitlin catches a pass and goes up for a lay-up from about a foot away from the basket and nearly misses not just the hoop, but the entire backboard.

It thuds off the side of the backboard and makes a noise that’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. This should be a wake up call for Kaitlin to get her vision checked. Or some kind of medical checkup. Something’s wrong.

Andi gets a pass, then, for some reason, spins, runs the wrong way, and hucks a wild shot up from half-court at the wrong basket.

It goes in as the game ends. Everyone celebrates for different reasons. I’m light headed.

Are we really sure that wasn’t worse than just leaving early? Are we really going with the lesson here of: “Kids, it doesn’t matter how terrible you do, as long as you do.” I hope no one growing up to be a doctor or pilot feels that way. Please, do those jobs well or don’t do them at all. No one’s gonna cheer you if you put the wrong organ inside your surgery patient or get lost and crash land into the ocean.

At Bex’s, Bex and Bowie review their answers and find themselves to be really compatible.

I think the biggest sign of their compatibility was that neither of them thought to ask the other any of these big, important life questions before agreeing to get married.

Lack of forethought and an improvisational approach to life problems suits them well, I guess.

Jonah meets Libby outside the school. He asks her to teach him sign language in sign language.

If he really wants to learn, he should hunt down the 5th grade teacher who made everyone else so fluent.

Libby agrees to. She tells Jonah she likes him.

Jonah says he likes her, 2. They seem to have reached a good level of understanding in their relationship. Amazing what COMMUNICATION! can do.

At Cyrus’s dance class, Cyrus prepares to deliver his final. Amber psyches him up, he heads out onto the floor, and...

Guys. It’s no good.

I mean, he’s doing this march walk thing.

And this scuba move like he’s dancing at a party from some 1960s beach movie.

And the robot.

His big finale is the sprinkler, of all things...

...followed by the Glee throw-your-fist-up-and-look-to-the-sky move.

I just don’t see how Cyrus passes this.

How do you watch that as a dance teacher and not go, “That was the laziest collection of basic, stock dance moves I’ve ever seen. Did you learn nothing? Did you even practice?”

Is this all another lesson about just showing up and doing a terrible job and being happy with that? Again, it’s good to have a positive attitude, but that’s not going to save your GPA.

At Bex’s, Bowie sits Andi and Bex down for a new surprise.

That’s right. Another plank!

Bowie probably should’ve learned to get everyone on board with his decision first before committing to a plank. That “The Quinns” plank is basically expensive firewood at this point.

But Bowie wins Andi and Bex over with this one.

And the news that he intends to take the Mack last name. It really was a foregone conclusion. Doesn’t he know what show he’s on? It’s called Andi Mack, not Andi Quinn. There’s already all tons of merchandise. What are you going to do, render that stuff worthless? Pfft. Good luck going up against the Disney Corporation’s profits, bud.

Bex wants to know if he’s sure he wants to be a Mack, and deal with all of the things that come with being a Mack. But Bowie’s in.

So, the Quinn names dies with Cookie. Long live the Quinns.

At school, Buffy takes out her phone and makes a call. The person on the other end of the line picks up. Buffy’s like, hey, last time I saw you, I don’t think I handled things very well and can we please meet up to talk?

And who’s on the other end of the call?

This guy!

Oh, who is this guy again? God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. It was a weird name. The kind of name they stopped giving babies in the 1950s.

I wanna say Harry? Ronny? Ralph? Was it Ralph? I feel like there was a Y in there.

Let’s just call him Not Walker for now until I can dig through the Andi Mack wiki for answers.

[soysaucevictim]

Last week of current things. Still on shaky ground.

-

Feb. 1

I woke up a bit after 11AM.

After a bit of the usual, and ruminating on a lot of the shit that’s been happening...  did some exercise.

First, today’s DD. 40 reverse lunges with EC. Winding and not a personal favorite but mission accomplished. :P

Second, Day 25 of the BLP. Level 3, one superset. Enough leg work for warm-up, I decided.

Third, Day 31 of the KCP. Active day. Same way as the last week’s active days.

The uncle wasn’t around pretty much all day, coming back around midnight. Slept at our place, I think?

Anyways, made some dinner and showed dad some videos before clocking out (rather late again).

-

Feb. 2

I woke up a bit closer to 11AM.

Watched some videos and picked up my meds before getting in my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2′ sitting punches with EC. This took a bit of willpower to maintain the hold, but it was pretty enjoyable work. I counted 283 punches thrown in the time given.

Second, Day 26 of the BLP. Level Level 3, one superset. Yeah. Warmup.

Last, Day 32 of the KCP. Active day. Don’t feel like saying much about it - other than it was pretty straightforward.

Did spend time getting some oven racks soaking in the tub and light scrubbing of the oven. But didn’t do a whole lot else and got to bed too late again..

-

Feb. 3

I woke up a bit before noon.

The first thing I attempted to do today was begin cleaning the oven proper.

Until I had a damaging argument with the uncle, he crossed the line. It really fucked me up. One reason why I lapsed on recording the fitness stuff in much detail, for several days...

But I did make myself get through my exercises...

First, today’s DD. 2′ raised leg hold with EC (frontal). After a crummy day and trying to  get the oven clean, I'm just happy I managed to do this in first try. The hard part was the building muscle fatigue. :P

Second, Day 27 of the BLP. Level 3, one superset. Solely upperbody work, this time. Manageable, despite fatigued arm muscles from the oven stuff.

Third, 5′ warmup. March steps.

Last, Day 33 of the KCP. Active day. Yeah. I’m not sure if I’ve always been on top of my rep/set counts at times. If I lost track and dropped some... I don’t really care at this point. I did something.

Taking a shower and finishing cleaning the oven to the best of my ability were the last things I did that were actually productive.

-

Feb. 4

I woke up a bit after 8AM.

Ran into probs getting transit this morning. LogistiCare tried to get Lyft to pick me up instead of the usual local service (”GR”). Lyft probably never picked me up and still counted me as a no show. :/

Had to ask bro if he was willing to take me to the facility, even though I missed Seeking Safety at that point, mostly so that I could touch base with my case manager. Also worked a bit on some art, while I was there.

Had an awkward/painful trip home... but I don’t feel like getting into that here.

Once home, I spent a few hours archiving and building a timeline back to Jan. 18. It was exhausting, but I felt it necessary, before getting in my exercise again.

First, today’s DD. 60 leg extensions with EC (AKA donkey kicks). This was reasonably fun for a day that could be best defined as a mixed bag. :P

Second, Day 28 of the BLP. Level 3, one superset. Enough legwork for it to count as warmup.

Last, Day 34 of the KCP. Rest day. For rest days, I’ve not been modifying things (read: no weights while doing the calf raises).

I had kind of a bad night, Dad got drunk and I stayed up way too late playing solitaire. :/

-

Feb. 5

I woke up a bit after noon.

Did a bit of the usual before starting on some exercise.

First, today’s DD. 40 raised leg circles with EC. Not much to say other than I found it just manageable. :P

Second, Day 29 of the BLP. Level 3, one superset. Another day I considered this for warmup.

Third, Day 35 of the KCP. Active day, final one. I’ve run out of stuff to say, at this point.

(After making dinner, feeling exasperation while doing it, and the usual noise...)

Last, Day 16 of the G2BC.  Yeah, remembered how I wanted to do this challenge? Yellow zone, anyways.

-

Feb. 6

I woke up a bit after 8AM.

Didn’t have transit trouble this time around. Happy about that.

Got to facility, went to diner, did some art, attended WRAP Group, and played some solitaire.

Got home and anxiously waiting for my case manager’s home visit today. The meeting went pretty well. Mostly because the uncle stayed outside while me, dad, and CM talked. I mostly shared the timeline and we both related the situation to the CM. He's going to make weekly home visits to check our collective pulse.

Did some dishes and some more of the usual before getting in today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 60 climbers with EC. Still in a relatively fragile state - but I did get a morale boost earlier today. Happy I could manage this one, despite a bit of indigestion and sleep deprivation. :P

Second, Day 30 of the Baseline Program. Level 3, one superset. Good enough for warmup. Just happy I completed this program

Third, Day 36 of the Knee Conditioning Program. Rest day. Ditto on the completion thing.

Last, Day 17 of the G2BC. Yellow zone.

-

Feb. 7

I woke up a bit before 11AM

One of the first things I did today was the DD. 40 glute flexes with EC. This was a bit of a challenge - but still manageable. That Knee Conditioning Program I just finished did have some glute work, which I did think helped. :P

Then played some rummy with grandma and Dad, before and after my psych appt. Which went better than I was anticipated. Doctor was pretty understanding and apologetic. One of the things I liked was getting the mood lightened up in thinking about what I could do on my birthday.

Partly because of overeating and it being a rest day - I didn’t do a lot else, today.

Didn’t manage to get to bed on time.

-

Summary:

I finished my programs in Feb. 6.

They were going pretty okay, for the first 2-3 weeks, until family issues arose. My enthusiasm waned afterwards, even though I stayed on schedule.

The Baseline Program was pretty breezy and I was happy I could accomplish Level 3 and in single sets every day. I kind of wish I was in a better headspace to appreciate this experience.

The Knee Conditioning Program did get a bit tedious - for want of variety. Assigned Sat-Mon & Wed as active days (all 12 exercises), Tues & Thurs as rest days (just heel cord stretches + calf raise; because I go to groups those days).

I shaved down my rest periods and probably rushed through the reps as I went along. For the leg presses: 3 lbs resistance for weeks 1&2, 3.7 lbs for 3&4, and 4.6 for 5&6. I started without additional weight - then used them for every active day in the schedule.

I was a lot less consistent with trying to rerun the Get to Bed on Time Challenge... but I’m just going to give myself some grace, given everything.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Somebody to love pt.2 ; Queen x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Okay people we have unfortunately reached the last update for the day. Now again I hope to have the next chapter up by my bday hopefully but I can’t make any promises cause I’ve got papers due in all my classes in the upcoming weeks all this month.

Now after the emotional roller coaster that I put you all through the last chapter, I bring you a FLUFFY fic. But I want you all to do something for me. I have linked in the fic the Queen concert from Montreal 1981 the full length version of the song Somebody to love, I want you ALL TO watch and listen to it if you can cause it will help with what I had in mind, especially towards the end of the fic. TRUST ME YOU’LL THANK ME LATER. Thank you all for that and I hope you all have enjoyed the binge reading that I have given you guys my lovely readers, followers and tagged people. Hope it lighten ups your day like Queen themselves.

Taglist (as usual open)

@onebigfangirlworld

@mr-badguymercury

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

@5sos-wdw

________________________________________________

*February 14th, 1984*

I woke up in my hotel room to feel arms wrapped around my waist.  I moaned tiredly until I felt those arms wrap around me tighter bringing me closer to the person’s chest before I felt a series of delicate and gentle kisses go up my neck.  I smiled which in turned woke me up as I turned to see Jack.

The sun peeking through the white curtains made him look like an angel sent from heaven.

“G’morning.” He said with a smile.

“Morning,” he kissed my temple and I moaned out. “Ohh I can’t believe I still get to wake up next to you.”

“I hope you mean that as a compliment otherwise I’m offended.”

“Of course it’s a compliment you rotter! In fact that’s the highest compliment you will ever get from me.” I teased as I turned around and faced him.

God I can’t believe its been six months since we started dating each other and nine months since we first met at that bar.  I can’t believe that I managed to snag me a really great guy who has made me feel so much love in just one look than Adam ever did in the first three months.

“How did I ever get so lucky to get you as mine?” I said as I cupped his face in my hand.

“Just right place right time, I’m really glad I went into that bar that day. Literally the best night of my life.” I awed at him as our foreheads touched then just before we were about to kiss, the door knocked loudly and I heard Freddie’s voice say.

“You two better not be fucking in there!”

“Fuck off Fred!” I yelled at him.

“Naughty, naughty language darling, whatever happened to my sweet little Rock angel?” I rolled my eyes and got up.  I was wearing Jack’s Led Zeppelin shirt and nothing else, I went ahead and unlocked the door and opened it just a crack as I said.

“What do you want Fred? It’s 9am and not even you are up this early?”

“Remember darling we have an early sound check to get to because apparently new management for Madison Square Garden fucked up the last show and I don’t want a repeat of the Rainbow 74 concert regarding power failure, less we get a temperamental Roger on our hands.”

“Alright let us get ready and we’ll meet you boys down in the lobby.” I shut the door and I turned back towards Jack and said. “You heard the hysterical queen, so I shower first then you?”

“Why not shower together? We’d save water that way.” Jack said with a suggestive smirk.  I playfully tossed my pillow at him.

“You’re even dirtier than Roger.” I laughed as I headed into the bathroom and proceeded to get myself cleaned up before the concert tonight.

Later that day we arrived at Madison Square Garden and the minute I walked on stage, it felt like I was transported back in time to just 3 years ago when Freddie brought me up on stage to perform my first song.  God I can’t believe it was just 3 years, it felt longer than that but I am so grateful to once again grace this stage once more as a popular Rockstar instead of a new star.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” I turned around to see Freddie standing behind me.

“I still can’t believe it’s only been three years, it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You’ve come such a long way since then darling, and the boys and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” I smiled as I felt Fred’s arms wrap around me and he gave me a quick kiss at the top of my head as he swayed me gently from side to side.

Later on in the day, Fred and I were doing some vocal warmups together while the rest of the boys were finishing up getting dressed and ready for the concert.  Jack was sitting on the couch right beside Deacy as he was giving him another tutoring tip on the bass guitar.

Soon one of the stage handlers told us that we had five minutes left till the show began.  Deacy and Jack cut the tutoring short and the boys and I left our dressing room and as we hung out backstage I got myself pumped up and ready for the show, holding my gifted red special that Brian gave me in Japan ready to go on first.

As the lights went off and the crowd cheered loudly, I began playing my first song “Who I am” and the concert officially began.

The concert went on successfully and now I had come up along with the boys as well as Jack to do a combine duet of singing “Somebody to love”.

“Thank you everyone, this next song is our Rock Angel’s favorite and we’re so proud to welcome a new bassist. He’s been a couple of the shows already and he’s very special to our little angel, please give it up for Mr. Jack Kline!” Jack soon came out onto the stage and waved to the crowd. I smiled at him and we both hugged each other as Freddie sat down at the piano and began to start the song.

Play concert *REQUIRED*

*Freddie*

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Each morning I get up I die a little Can barely stand on my feet

Take a look in the mirror and cry

Lord, what you're doing to me I have spent all my years in believing you I just can't get no relief, Lord! Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

        I then came up to the microphone and I began singing while my boys backed me up.

*Me*

I work hard (she works hard) every day of my life I work 'til I ache in my bones At the end (at the end of the day) I take home my hard earned pay all on my own I get down (down) on my knees (knees) And I start to pray 'Til the tears run down from my eyes Lord, somebody (somebody), ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

        I held the note and gave it a nice vibrato as Roger pounded the drums and at the next verse I gave it a little more soul as I put my body more into the song as I strutted across the stage.  At the ‘yeah, yeah’ part I pounded my fist in the air and could see from the lights people following my lead.

*Me*

(She works hard every day) Every day

I try and I try and I try But everybody wants to put me down They say I'm going crazy They say I got a lot of water in my brain Ah, got no common sense I got nobody left to believe in Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Brian then began the guitar solo coming up front of the stage.  I smiled and joined along side him, the two of us keeping eye contact with each other occasionally smiling at each other as Fred soon came up and sang the next part while we backed him up.

*Freddie*

Oh, Lord Ooh somebody, ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Got no feel, I got no rhythm I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing) I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright) I ain't gonna face no defeat I just gotta get out of this prison cell One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!

        Roger pounded the drums in a steady beat as I raised my hands in the air and began clapping to the rhythm of Rog’s drumbeats.  The crowd echoed me back and Fred soon said in the mic.

        “Alright New York we want to see all those hands. Every single person clapping along. Three. Four!” At the bridge we all sang along and I could hear the crowd singing back to us.

        I would look towards Jack and he’d wink at me and I’d do the same by blowing him a quick kiss as I went back to singing getting ready for my solo.

Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love love love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Somebody somebody

Somebody somebody Somebody find me Somebody find me somebody to love

Can anybody find me

*Me*

Somebody to

I felt Jack’s hand then take mine and when I turned to face him, I noticed that he now had the bass guitar behind him and he was down on one knee.  Deacy then quickly gave him his microphone and Jack said into the microphone as the song suddenly stopped.

“(Y/n), words cannot describe what being with you these past several months have been like. But the one thing I knew that mattered was that you have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And—and if you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way,” it was then Jack pulled out from his pocket a small black box.

The crowd all gasped and cheered as Jack opened the box and inside of it was a beautiful sterling silver engagement ring. I held my hands to my mouth as he finally finished.

“(Y/n) (l/n) my Rock Angel, will you marry me?”

*Jack’s POV*

I finally did it, I finally worked up the courage to finally propose to (y/n).  I can still remember back to when I first asked each member of Queen for their blessing before I did this, wanting to do this properly.  And thanks to the guys, this wouldn’t even be happening.

~Flashback to 2 weeks ago in Seattle, Washington~

We had just gotten done with the Seattle concert.  God I was so nervous but I knew I had to tell them, it’d be wrong not to ask them, they’re practically her family since she’s told me her parents are gone and her aunt and uncle disowned her for pursuing a music career in college.

I found Deacy cleaning up his bass guitar when I approached him.

“Hey Deacy,” he looked up and said.

“Ahh Jack come in, come in I was just cleaning up my bass before I packed her up. Hey great job out there on your first performance, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, hey John can I—can I ask you something?”

“Sure what is it?” My heart pounded and I was just about to race out of that room faster than a cheetah but I couldn’t back out of this, otherwise I may not get another ounce of courage to ask them again.

“Actually it’s something the rest of the guys need to hear, but not (y/n).”

“Of course, come on let’s head into the dressing room, they’re all probably still in there.” He set his bass guitar into its case and he lead me down the hallways towards the Queen dressing room.  Once we got there, Freddie and Roger were in their bathrobes and Brian was wiping his head with a towel of the sweat from the show.

“Ahh there he is. Jackie darling you and (y/n) were amazing up there!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Thanks Freddie.” I said with a smile.

“So you got the adrenaline rush yet kid?” asked Roger.

“A bit, is that what it’s like after you play for thousands of people?” I asked.

“Every night, your lovely lady can tell it better after her first performance.” Said Brian.

“Lads, Jack has something he’d like to tell us.” With that the boys of Queen gave me their full attention as they all sat down and looked right at me.

“Okay well……umm ehehe, well I know it hasn’t been a long time since we’ve been dating and hell it’s barely been a year since we’ve known each other but. I really, really care about (y/n) and….with each of your blessings. I would…..I want to ask (y/n) to marry me.”  They each looked at me intensely.

Ahh shit, I guess I should’ve waited.

The boys were silent as they each looked at me with either stoic faces, or wide eyes.  Brian who was one of the stoic ones said as he inhaled a breath of air.

“Could you give us a moment, please Jack?” I looked at him and he did his usual quick eyebrow quirk as a way to emphasize his point. Without saying another word, I got up from my seat and left their dressing room shutting the door behind me and waited.

*3rd Person POV*

The second Jack shut the door, Deacy turned to Brian and said.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I just wanted to see if he’d do it.” Brian joked. Roger scoffed out a chuckle. “So…..what do you guys think?”

“I honestly hoped this day wouldn’t come.” Said Roger.

“But it was inevitable Roger dear, we knew this day had to come.” Stated Freddie.

“But why did it have to come so soon?” Roger whined out. The boys then looked at each other in silent deliberation.

*Jack’s POV*

It felt like an eternity had passed by but when I looked down at my watch it was just ten minutes.  I sat beside the dressing room along the wall when I heard the door open. I quickly stood up and straightened myself out and Deacy soon came out, his hands in the pocket of his jacket.

“Will the defendant please reenter the court room? We the jury have reached our final decision.” I swallowed heavily but followed him back inside.  Deacy set me back down at the chair that now stood in front of the couch where Brian and Deacy took his seat beside him, Roger sat at my right while Freddie was to my left.

“We’ve decided…..” Roger started. I turned towards him anticipating what would happen, “What did we decide?” he questioned as he turned to Deacy.

“Jack; you know that (y/n) has no other family member living or accepting of her choices. We the band members of Queen came to look at her as either a daughter, niece or sister the first day she came to us as an intern. And out of any boy in the world she could’ve chosen, any guy who would come to us to ask her for her hand in marriage…..we’re glad that it’s you.” Deacy said.  I looked at my mentor to see a smile spread across his face as he said, “It’s a yes from me.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“You’ve made her happier than we’ve ever seen her Jack. You both clearly belong together. You have my approval.” Brian stated with a gentle smile as well.  A smile soon came across my face and I felt a hand at my shoulder.  I turned to see Freddie standing over me and he said.

“It’s obvious our little Rock Angel loves you, and you clearly love her. Just make sure you give her the ring she deserves when you tell her.” I nodded and that’s when all of our attention turned to Roger.

Out of the four members of Queen, it was Roger’s approval I was seeking for the most.  He’s acted like a father to (y/n), and I knew that if I didn’t win his approval, then this proposal wouldn’t happen until he said he accepted me. Because I could never make her choose between the guys and me.

“Oh it’s my turn now?”

“Come of it Roger and just say it! You’re leaving the poor boy in suspense!” Freddie groaned out.  Roger sighed heavily and he said.

“(Y/n) has been my partner in crime, my sidekick, my best girl. I’ve seen her as my daughter and yet I share no blood ties with her whatsoever. I’ve looked after her for what feels like her entire life even though it’s only been 4 years. And I almost can’t bear to let her go so soon.” He stopped right there leaving me in anticipation.

Silence rang throughout the dressing room except for the light hums of the AC.  That’s when Roger looked me dead in the eye and said.

“But I think it’s time for me to finally step down, and let a new man take my place.”

At that moment, I knew what he meant.

Roger may not be the sentimental type, except towards (y/n) but hearing him call me a man instead of kid like he’s had since the beginning, I knew I had his acceptance.

I breathed out so much air, I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn’t believe it.  I had gotten Queen’s approval, (y/n)’s brother, uncles and father figures approval to marry her.

“Welcome to the family Jack!” Freddie cheered as he picked me up and immediately embraced me.  I let out a soft laugh as I hugged him back and that’s when Brian came up to me and the two of us hugged it out.  He patted my back and I did the same to him when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to come face to face with Deacy.

Brian stepped back and Deacy shook my shoulder before bringing me into a hug as he said in my ear.

“I told you, bass players always get the girl.” As we separated he gave me a quick wink and a grin telling me that he somehow knew this would all happen.  It was then Roger and I now stood face to face with each other.

Roger extended his hand out to me and I accepted what he wanted. I took his hand and the two of us shook on it, but suddenly I felt his arm wrap around me and was actually being hugged my Roger Taylor.

“Look after her for the both of us, promise me you’ll do that.” I heard his whisper to me.

“I promise.” I vowed.

It was after that they helped me with the best way to propose and that would be at the very first show (y/n) performed at, Madison Square Garden and since they were performing on Valentines day, it would be twice as romantic just like in a fairytale according to Freddie.  

They also helped me pick out the perfect ring by going in disguise to the jewelers with me to pick out the perfect ring and I managed to get me a sterling silver engagement ring with a big sized diamond ring at the center and engraved at the sides were mini diamonds with an intertwined band.

~End of Flashback 1st POV~

I couldn’t believe it.  Jack was proposing to me right here, right now.  Tears spilled down my face as smiled widely and I nodded not trusting my voice.

At my answer, the entire stadium went wild as Jack took the ring out and placed it on my left ring finger.  Once it was on, he stood up and I wrapped my arms around him kissing him with as much passion as I could before embracing him as the two of us swayed and the boys went straight to the last verse of the song.

Both Roger and Freddie alternating between the lead vocals.  Freddie would scatter some parts of the lyrics while Roger kept on beat with the amazing background vocals.

*Roger (Fred)*

Find me (find me)

Somebody to love (somebody to love) Find me

Somebody to love (To love, to love, to love)

Find me somebody to love (Ooh)

Find me somebody to love

(Can you find me, find me, find me, find me)

Find me somebody to love

Somebody to love (Ooh, somebody to love) *Fred (Roger)*

Somebody to love (Yeah) Find me, find me, (Yeah, yeah)

Find me somebody to love *Roger*

Yeah, yeah

By the end of the song, the boys rocked out hard. Roger played a long ending solo, Brian had his guitar carry the rift of the last part of the song for what felt like forever, Freddie banged on the piano with his forearm before leaving it and going towards Roger and doing their little stage acts they always do toward each other as Roger kept hitting the cymbals rapidly.

Once the song ended, people were roaring with applause, cameras were flashing and Freddie soon gestured towards Jack and me.

“Ladies and gentlemen give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Kline!”

After the concert was over, there was a small celebration for the engagement, Freddie giving out a small toast to Jack and I at a nearby bar.  And after the celebration, Jack had a mixtape playing on the stereo and for the rest of the night we swayed in a gentle dancing holding onto each other before ending it cuddling together in the bed.

[ja9doeswhole30]

Before-Whole30 Baseline

One of the reasons I kept putting off committing to a firm eating plan like Whole30 is that I consider myself a pretty healthy eater. I’ve always anticipated that forcing myself to be 100% compliant with a strict plan would send me into a deprivation mentality, and that being a ~90% whole-food eater with a little wiggle room for other stuff wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

Nonetheless, here we are. I’ve bought into the idea of a 30-day reset of eating only the “right” foods. As my start date approaches, I wanted to focus on the ways in which I’ve been eating well and can build on during Whole30. 

I cook at home. A lot. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved to cook. Eating is awesome, so why wouldn’t someone want to participate in the creation of the food and make it exactly to spec?! My early attempts as a teen mostly consisted of eggs, pancakes, certain traditional Jewish holiday foods, and cookies. I also messed around with salads, sandwiches, smoothies, etc. (more “food assemblage” than actual “cooking,” if we’re being technical). Then during college I graduated to vegetable stir-fries and sauteed pasta dishes, and I made a lot of marinated chicken breast on my Foreman grill. When the hubs and I moved in together we started incorporated baked salmon once a week along with the grilled chicken, turkey sausage, and turkey meatloaf that became our staples. 

Still, I didn’t realize just how much we ate out in NYC until we moved to the suburbs. Pre-kids, we’d pick something up from the pizza place one night during the week, and perhaps another weeknight we’d meet friends or coworkers for dinner and drinks. And the weekends inevitably involved eating out in some fashion or another. These days I cook dinner every weeknight pretty religiously, and that way weekend restaurant visits and take-out meals really are a special treat for everyone. 

I’m also kind of grumpy and cheap when it comes to grocery store shortcut foods - no cooked rotisserie chickens or other prepared foods from the deli counter for us. That said, I understand that this is often an optimal alternative to true take-out food for people who are too busy to cook. But it’s not like I’m relying on them and need to cut them out now, which is good. 

Finally, I’ve almost always packed and brought my own lunch. Occasionally I’ll treat myself to some sushi (since no one else in my family likes it) as a special Friday lunch, but otherwise I eat a homemade salad or leftovers from the night before. 

Hence, I’m intimidated by the menu requirements of the Whole30, and the prospect of making sure my meals are compliant while also satisfying for my family of picky eaters, but it’s not like this is my first rodeo in the kitchen. 

When I do eat outside food, I don’t go overboard. The sushi aside, when eating in a restaurant I usually pick something sensible like a salad with lean protein. If I indulge in a sandwich, I make sure to stop when I’m full (usually eating around half & saving the other half for the next day). In my youth I was a total glutton whose brain used the “oh, we’re eating out!” signal as an excuse to stuff myself, since it was a “treat”. 

I guess it’s also worth mentioning here that when we eat out, it’s pretty strictly Greek diner, Italian, Thai, or Chinese - i.e. somewhere I can eek out a decent meal (even if it means ordering steamed veggies and tofu with brown rice while everyone else has saucy deliciousness). The only time we even consider a typical “fast food” joint is on road trips, and even there you can always get a salad. 

Obviously, I’m not perfect. My willpower is shit when it comes to a nice diner bread basket or a steaming tray of garlic knots. But, in contrast to my youth, I’m able to have half a slice of challah, or one garlic knot, and stop there. This doesn’t really help with Whole30 since all that stuff is off-limits, but if I used to eat a lot of something, and trained myself to eat just a little, by extension eating none of it isn’t such a big stretch. 

I don’t eat after dinner (anymore). Because I have small children, we eat dinner around 6:30, finish by 7:00, and have them in bed by 8:00. A few months ago, I found myself picking at randomness in the kitchen during the evening cleanup. I realized that I was rushing through dinner, too distracted facilitating everyone else’s eating to slow down and feel myself to satiety. Thus, a few hours later I was either still hungry, or just antsy and unsatisfied enough to pick at nonsense. For the last several weeks, though, I’ve been more strict about dinner being the time to eat the good foods that’ll keep me full until the morning. (I say those exact words to my kids every single night; may as well take my own advice, right?)

I only booze occasionally. Last January I basically gave up drinking alcohol. Every once in a while I’ll have a glass of wine or a beer at a party, but between the negative effect on my triglycerides, the extra calories I don’t need, and the fact that I have small children who wake up me at the asscrack of dawn even if I have a headache, these occasions have been fewer and farther between. The logic also falls somewhere along the lines of “what’s the point of having just one drink?”  The other night I drank (a whole beer!) for the first time in over 2 months, and while it was delicious the buzz kept me up too late and I spent all of yesterday feeling sluggish and exhausted. Not worth it. So I know I can go 30 days without booze, no problem. 

I exercise almost every day. I know there’s a lot of speculation about whether exercise is actually good for weight loss - you burn a lot of calories but that just makes you hungrier, or you pat yourself on the back and take more liberties with crappy food choices, blah blah blah. All I know is that I got into the habit of working out every morning and I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I gave that up. My usual routine is 20-30 minutes on my elliptical, plus some strength exercises from a 30-day challenge chosen by my sister-in-law and her friends. It might be psychosomatic but I’m convinced the endorphins help me manage stress and have energy throughout the day. Plus, knowing I have to get up early to get the workout in before the kids get up is usually enough motivation to get into bed at a decent hour at night. 

The Whole30 book warns that adjusting to the program may affect athletic performance, so I’m going to proceed with caution the first few days. It so happens that we’re almost at the end of a thigh challenge, so the first day of Whole30 I’ll need to do 40 leg swings, 45 side leg lifts, and 45 side lunges (per leg). The next day it’s 50 side lunges, 55 plie squats, and 45 inner thigh pulses. So maybe I’ll skip the elliptical one of those days, or do it as a quick 10-15 minute warmup instead of a full cardio session. Regardless, according to the book exercising means you need to eat an extra (small) meal, and for my money that’s enough reason in and of itself to keep exercising. 

So there you have it. Stay tuned for my next post in which I bitch about all the reasons Whole30 is going to be insanely hard. D:

[welovekpopscenarios]

Trust No One (Yugyeom x Reader)

Admin: Candi Request/Idea: It was like Bonnie and Clyde or Harley and Joker, two corrupted souls that took pleasure from violence but loved each other unconditionally and worked together as a team to get what they wanted, that was until one of them didn’t want to share the spotlight anymore. Fandom: Got7 Member/reader: Yugyeom x Reader Genre: Angst, Purge AU Warnings: Trigger warning, violence, death, mention of rape, strong language Words: 3.6k Authors note: This fic is very graphic, please read at your own risk. Since it’s the month of Halloween I thought it would be cool to step away from the requests for now and write my own Halloween inspired stories. The plan is to write 3 stories, fluff, angst and smut. Hopefully I’ll get them done and you will enjoy them.

"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S Government.

Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning, until 7 a.m., when the Purge concludes. Blessed by our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.

May God be with you all."

And so, the sirens go off, the screams begin and the terror rises. This was your favourite time of year, you never failed to go out and purge and always made it back alive. You trained martial arts and practiced shooting every week and you were one of the most feared people in your city, when you went out to purge people moved out of your way, they knew who you were and they weren’t going to mess with you.

The only person that didn’t fear you was Yugyeom, he was nearly as good as you and that’s what made you such a perfect team, you two could achieve anything you desired, you could do anything you wanted, no one was going to try to stop you. You both met during a purge three years ago, he didn’t get out of your way when you went to rob a shop so naturally you went to kill him but he swerved out of the way and locked you against the wall. He was new in town and after that stunt you immediately wanted him on your team and your wish was his command, he joined you and you two have been together since.

“These sirens are like music to my ears.” You stand up from the couch and have a lengthy stretch.

“The screams are what gets me off.” Yugyeom says while taking a long drag of his cigarette and exhaling it followed by him throwing his head back and closing his eyes to prepare for today’s purge. You grabbed your favourite gun and put it into your thigh holster while Yugyeom threw on his leather jacket. You locked your whole house and activated your security system which closed off the whole house with metal barriers. After that was done you quickly made your way to the van and checked that all the ammunition, shotguns, grenades and knives were there.

“Let the show begin.” You said while you took off into the city. You gripped the steering wheel tightly and sped up, a crazy look overshadowed your face and the craziness in your eyes began to show. Yugyeom was sitting back with one foot resting where the airbag was, his hand in his hair, fingers curling it ever so slightly, his face was calm and bored, unlike yours. You were ready to murder, you missed the smell of fresh blood pouring out of people, the sound of glass breaking while you stepped into the shop and took anything you wanted, the cries and pleas of the people who were seconds away from dying.

On the way to town you got glimpses of the attractions that the city had to offer at this time. People were getting murdered by saws, they were getting raped by gangs of convicted felons that were in jail purely because they couldn’t wait until the purge to get their fix. The convicts made you laugh, such foolish people, getting arrested when they know this is legal once a year. You were different, you waited patiently, you were such a good and helpful citizen for the whole year but the purge was your time to shine, it was your chance to let every horrible thought come alive and fill the empty void inside you that got deeper the longer you waited for this thrilling event.

When you finally made it in you quickly crawled to the back of the van to get ready for what was about to happen. The gun shots, screams and hysteria were in full swing by the time you got into the city. You got your stuff ready while Yugyeom got his. He specialized in knives, he could do anything with them, he never missed a victim, if he wanted to kill some poor innocent soul that was a block away you can bet he’d succeed by throwing his knife in such a way it would sink into the persons throat and cut it like butter.

The dirty doors of the van swung open and it felt like the world stood still, it was like the purge stopped and everything was over.

“But we just got here.” You said with a mocking tone and a small pout. Everyone stared at you and Yugyeom, they tried to swallow down their fear and look away but it seemed damn near impossible. “Looks like I have to break the fucking ice.” And you fired your gun at everyone in sight, the people you missed on the first go ran towards you with their weapons but were soon defeated by Yugyeoms flying daggers. Most people were dead but some were severely injured, those people got tied up and thrown into your van because they might come useful later on.

This was just a small warmup before the big dreams became reality. Your objective for today was to set off a bomb in the building that the president was staying and bring the whole thing down. You planned this for so long, Yugyeoms brains and skills combined with yours made this possible. You knew exactly what you were doing and how you’d go about it, the security system would be a piece of cake to disassemble, the guards would be a bigger pain in the ass.

After the massacre, you collected ammo from the lifeless bodies on the ground and headed into your van to get your thoughts together.

“Fuck, are we ready to do this?” You ask Yugyeom with a hint of doubt.

“Y/N we’ve been planning this ever since we met each other.” He comes closer and presses your body against yours. His hand comes up to your cheek and caresses it. “We’re going to do this and we’re going to pull it off.” He kisses you and lets his tongue invade your mouth. You wrap your leg around his and press yourself against him.

“Come on, let’s not get sidetracked.” He breaks the kiss and goes to the front of the van, leaving you breathless.

As you made your way to the building you noticed something was off, Yugyeom was constantly on his phone and that was a rare occurrence especially during a purge, he was fidgety and there were drops of sweat forming on his forehead. You brushed it off seeing as you thought it was just nerves from the events that were about to take place but it still made you feel uneasy.

“Are you okay?” You decide to break the silence and ask. He doesn’t answer, he rubs his palm on his mouth and takes a deeper breath. “Yugyeom, you’re scaring me.”

“Just drive okay?!” He lashed out and you brought the car to a halt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Listen, this is huge okay? We’re about to do something that everyone tries during every purge and I know for a fact this is going to work.”

“So why are you so fucking nervous?”

“I just… I don’t know Y/N. Just drive.”

You pressed on and drove in silence up until you reached the destination. You didn’t need additional stress on top of everything that was happening and Yugyeoms bullshit wasn’t something you wanted to deal with right now. You needed to stay focused and driven, you were going to do this, no matter what, you were going to do this.

After an hour of driving and avoiding trouble you were finally at the building. Everything seemed so overwhelming, it’s like every emotion that you had came crashing down on top of you and you couldn’t breathe. You stayed in the driver’s seat and tried to clear your mind. Yugyeom got out and was on his phone to someone but you were too busy to care about his shit.

“I can do this, I can fucking do this.” You tell yourself. “You’re not a little bitch, you’re able to do this. If I do this it will guarantee me safety for life. I will finally be able to move on and live in peace.”

“What’s the hold up?” Yugyeom opens the door and hurries you up.

You walk to the back of the van and open the door with Yugyeom standing behind you. You stand still for a second before grabbing any equipment to really think about what you need.

“Yugyeom what do you think you’ll ne-” Your question got cut off. All you could feel was pain, burning in your lungs, tears coming down your cheeks. The grip around your throat got tighter and tighter. Was this it? The one person you trusted and gave your heart to would be the person to put an end to your life? Ever since the incident that happened when you were younger you didn’t trust anyone until Yugyeom came around. You didn’t know what felt worse, the betrayal or the lack of oxygen. He released you just as you lost consciousness.

You open your eyes and everything looks foggy, your head still dizzy and your throat sore and dry. It takes you a while to snap out of it, you look around with a faded look on your face, being able to only make out silhouettes and different colours around you. Everything was silver and orange from the rust, there was a musky smell and you heard drips in the background.

           “W-what happened? Where am I?” You ask delicately. A familiar face stands in front of you and looks at you, it was Yugyeom with a devilish smirk on his face. He shakes his head and starts laughing, you were becoming more aware of your surroundings. You were tied to a chair in what looked like a basement of an old hospital, everything was old and it smelled awful. You shook your hands and realized you were tied to the chair and there was no way out.

           “As much as I’d love to share the spotlight with you I simply cannot do that.” He begins. “Imagine what people will think of me when I say I killed the president and you. I’m going to be seen as a hero.” He continued but you weren’t stupid, you saw where this was going so instead of feeling sorry for yourself you started thinking of ways to get out, still looking like your undivided attention was on him. “You might say I can’t do it without you but… I already have. See, we had a whole plan, I know exactly what to do step by step to not fuck up, all I did was take one person out of the picture.” Your eyes wandering around, looking for things to use to defend yourself. “I never needed you. I could have killed you the day we met but because I was new in town I had to make a reputation for myself, no? And the new guy going out with the biggest, bloodthirsty purger in town surely gave me one hell of a rep.” Yugyeoms habit was talking too much, in the time he was talking you already came up with a plan of how to get out. Funnily enough, him and his beefy minions didn’t do a very good job at tying you up, your legs were free and the more you pulled on the rope around your wrists the more it loosened.

           “Shut up already, fuck!” Yugyeoms eyes widened at your remark. “I honestly couldn’t give a shit about your stupid plan.”

           “Excuse me?” He started to walk towards you with his pocket knife in his hand.

           “You think you’re so smart?” You waited for him to get close enough to you.

           “I don’t see how you can be so confident when you’re obviously going to die in a second.” His pocket knife made its way to your mouth and lightly brushed off your lips.

           “In the time your gob wouldn’t shut up I managed to think of something.” Before giving him the chance to react you kicked him between his legs so he’d go down to your level and you pulled your hands apart as hard as you could and with the adrenaline that was rushing through you it didn’t prove to be hard. You grabbed his head and kneed his straight in the nose. You got up and noticed his guards coming towards you, they seemed very hesitant but you didn’t want to risk it so you grabbed the knives that were laid out on the table and legged it. The guards picked up the pace and you decided to test out your knife throwing skills, surely you learned something from that lowlife during the two years you were together. To your surprise you ended up killing two out of five guards that were after you.

           You ran through the long corridors of the building with no idea on how to get out of this, you didn’t even know where you were but your main focus was surviving right now. As you made your way through the corridors it became more like a maze, the corridors divided into four different sections sometimes, with doors leading to other mazes and rooms. You got lost as much as you possibly could in order to lose the running pieces of meat that were after you. After a few minutes of going from room to room, turning corners and locking doors behind you, you finally felt safe. You stumbled into a room that had a computer and a bunch of shelves with a lot of files on them, it was dark and you couldn’t make out what they were.

           The computer looked old, you weren’t sure if it would work but you were willing to chance it anyway. After turning it on you noticed a lot of folders with different names on the desktop, your instinct was to click into them and watch them but what if you regretted that decision.

           “Fuck it. There isn’t a lot of things that surprise me anymore.” And so, you clicked into the first name ‘Carolina’, there was a word document, a couple of picture files and a video. The word document seemed the safest to look at for now. All it appeared to be was the girl’s details and finger prints, that didn’t raise suspicions in you so you continued to snoop through the documents. Bravery took over you and you clicked into the pictures which proved to be normal enough, just shots of the girl which looked like a paparazzi took them, maybe she was famous? The last thing to look at in the folder titled ‘Carolina’ was the video, before double clicking into it you took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. The video started off with an unknown person holding the camera walking through some rooms that looked abandoned, making their way through different doors, walking endlessly. You got impatient so you skipped onto the part in the middle and what came after that terrified you, it was Yugyeom and his gang torturing and slowly killing the woman in the pictures.

           “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You exit out of the video and click into all of the different folders on the screen, names of men and women, same format, same type of photos, same videos. You stood up from the chair and walked around the room shaking off all the fear that was in you.

           Upon further research, you noticed a folder with your name on it and your heart stood still, maybe it was coincidence? Maybe this wasn’t planned? You open it without giving it further thought and to your horror, it was you. There was a whole file on you, describing every single detail, all of your past was noted in that document. How did he know so much? How did he get all of this information? The only thing that differed from your folder was that there was no video, but there was far more pictures in your folder than the others. A lot of them were taken by Yugyeom, pictures of dates, pictures of your naked body, pictures of you sleeping.

           “Tut, tut, tut. Did a little too much snooping, did we?” You shoot up from your seat and turn around to face Yugyeom, thankfully his brainless dogs were still lost in the building so he was alone.

           “What the fuck is this? Who are you?”

           “While you were busy trusting me, and thinking about our future together I was busy thinking of how to get rid of you.”

           “That doesn’t explain all the people you have killed!”

           “If you haven’t picked up on it yet, I do this for fun. I kill the most dangerous people in different towns each year and move on to the next one. Sometimes I even managed to kill three different people during just one purge and they were all so attached to me.”

           “That’s so fucked up.” A nervous laugh leaves your throat.

           “It’s a shame I have to kill you, you were my favourite out of all of them.”

           You couldn’t hide the fact that what Yugyeom did hurt you, the feeling worsened in the pit of your stomach and you thought you were going to vomit. When you were a child someone extremely close to you hurt you so bad you never recovered from it, he knew about it and he chose to do the same thing but in a different manner. You felt weak, showing emotions in front of a detached asshole that only wanted to add you to his collection.

           “Baby, don’t cry. It’s just how it is. I honestly thought you’d be smarter than this, I mean, you are the biggest killer in this city, shouldn’t you know not to trust anyone?” Once again, he caressed your cheek and made you feel all warm, as if he cared again. You couldn’t let him fool you like this, you are smart and the objective changed from the president to Yugyeom.

           “Listen cunt.” You grab his wrist and squeeze so hard he squeals. “Don’t touch me. I want to make you suffer so bad, I want to literally rip into your chest and pull out your heart in front of your eyes just so you can get a taste of what I feel right now but quite frankly, I don’t have time for that right now.” You look up at him and you sense panic in his eyes, you smile at him and release the switchblade that you placed at his chest while you were talking. He shrieks from pain and falls to the ground.

           You squat down to his level and you look at him mockingly while you pouted and he cried from pain.

           “Aw, does it hurt? Are you scared you’re going to die?”

           “Y/N, please, help me.”

           Your face went from mocking to disgusted, you grabbed his hair and brought his head up. “No one is going to help you sweetheart.” You press your knife into his throat. “You should have known better.” And you slit through it like butter, just like he taught you. You dropped his lifeless head on the ground and walked out of the room only to meet his guards finally finding you.

           “You’re a little bit late fellas.” You point in the direction of the dead body and the guards don’t even touch you. “Could you show me the way out? I swear I’ll spare your life, the purge is nearly over and I got what I wanted.”

           The three guys took you outside and thanked you for sparing their lives. It was already bright outside so you were expecting the sirens to come back on signaling the end of this year’s purge any moment now. You saw your van parked right outside the building so you ran towards it like your life depended on it, all of your guns were still there, nothing was stolen and you felt crazy for being so overjoyed at being reunited with your van.

           You sat back in your seat, Yugyeoms cigarettes still on the seat next to you. You decided to light one and enjoy it while you watched the purge come to an end. You never thought you would be in a situation like this, everything always went so smoothly for you but there was bound to be a bump on the road along the way, you just didn’t think the bump was going to be that big.

[itscooltobefanficy]

Feeling Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Slow Hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 2/?: Slow Hands

Word count: 3999

Love to @systemfailuresunshine for her endless patience. See bottom for author notes!

You dash into the studio with your bag held over your head and rainwater soaking your shoes.

“Hey, Y/N!” Wanda theatrically raises her eyebrows as you shut the door behind you. “Is it raining out there?”

You pull a face at her.

“I’m fu-fricking drenched,” You say, vehemently. “As soon as I left work, boom! The heavens opened!”

Pepper, poised and polished in the middle of the space, pulls a sympathetic face. “Do you want to borrow some spare socks? I’ve brought a pair?”

You hesitate, then nod gratefully. You’re practically squelching with every step you take. At least you’d had the sense not to put on your trainers when you left work. Pepper fishes in her bag for the socks as you cross to where Clint is stood and shuck your way out of your coat (dripping water everywhere).

“Good week?” Clint asks, even as he dodges the spray. You tilt your head in a so-so gesture.

“Not bad. Had one-” You get stuck on the sign for ‘crying’ and have to mime, “-Crying jag today- not me,” You add hastily, noting Clint’s concerned expression, “One of the students. Exams are getting to them.”

Clint shakes his head and sketches out his reply with his fingers. “And I thought libraries were boring.”

You give a small smile. Clint’s deaf- or, as he says, as near to it as it makes no matter- and although he does have hearing aids, he tends to leave them out around people he knows can sign. You’re not totally fluent, but you can get by just fine. You frame your next question with a hook of the fingers. “You?”

He nods. “Not bad. I took Laura to the restaurant you mentioned, she seemed to really like it.”

You grin at that, holding up your hand for a high-five before showing your reply. “What did I tell you? Glad you had fun.”

Clint looks a little bashful, but pleased at the same time. He and Laura have been tentatively dating for nearly two months now, and things seem to be going well. Pepper gently taps you on the shoulder and offers you a clean pair of socks.

“Thanks, Pepper. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” She says, sweetly. “Are you alright for getting home?”

You shrug. “If it’s still raining that hard I can get a bus. And a bit of water never killed anyone.” You struggle with the sign for ‘kill’: not one you use very often.

Clint raises his hand. “Objection.”

You roll your eyes. “Nobody ever drowned in rainwater. Happy?”

“I’ll be happier when you get your ass in gear, Y/N!” Wanda calls. “We’re all waiting for you!”

Oops. You quickly slide off your over-trousers to reveal your workout leggings, pull off your jumper and swap your sodden shoes and socks for dry trainers. Clint slides in his hearing aids, offers you a hand up, and together you walk out onto the floor.

“Sorry, Wanda,” You apologise sheepishly, but she just smiles. You’ve known her for years now, ever since you started taking classes at Scarlet Studios as part of a New Years’ Resolution that, astonishingly, you had actually managed to keep. Over that time, you’ve become close friends with both her and your classmates. You often think of the Wednesday class as a little family: small, weird, and weirdly comfortable with each other.

But before Wanda can start the class, there’s a knock at the door. Wanda looks at you all, before shrugging and walking over to answer it. Two strange guys are standing outside.

“Can I help you?” Wanda asks.

“Sorry to bother you,” The blonde one says, immediately, “But we’re looking for the advanced commercial dance class?”

You look at Pepper, stood beside you. Her expression mirrors yours: bemusement. It’s not like anyone can just walk into the advanced class- dancers are expected to work their way up Wanda’s program until she decides you’re capable of coping with Wednesday nights. It’s that process that gives them all such a feeling of camaraderie. Plus there’s no room for awkwardness when you’ve all been through a routine that involved fifteen solid seconds (Clint had timed it) of grinding up on your partner. New people would just throw a wrench in the dynamics of the troupe. But, to your astonishment, Wanda steps aside, nodding.

“You’re the pupils from the Academy, right?”

“Right.” He holds out his hand to shake. “Steve Rogers.”

It makes for an interesting visual: Wanda in her bright red sports bra and skin-tight leggings, faced with this huge guy in a long-sleeved t-shirt and baggy trousers. Wanda takes his hand, looking as though she’s fighting back a smile. “Please, join the rest of the class. And you must be James?”

The other guy steps into the room. One look and you can tell he has none of the easy charm of his friend. His expression is set in something approaching distaste, and he only nods at Wanda’s address. You can feel your expression creasing up into a frown. Dammit. And he was so good-looking. Still, you suppose, it’s better to know he’s a jerk now, rather than make an effort for no reason. You turn back to the front as the newcomers slope to the back and Wanda takes her customary position.

“Right, warmups! We’ll start off going through last weeks’ routine in half-time and solo, before partnering up. Ready?”

“Born ready,” Clint quips, and you laugh. Wanda smirks.

“We’ll see if you’re still saying that in five minutes! A five, six, a seven and eight!”

The routine Wanda had begun teaching you last week was set to an extract from Stay, and it was one of your favourites. It might not have the punchiness of some of the faster songs, but you liked the soft, almost melancholy build. Wanda had accentuated that with loose, even drapes of the arms and level changes that now make your legs shake when going through them at half-speed; then came a series of isolations that increased in rapidity until the chorus kicked in. You moved through them easily, enjoying the feeling of your body loosening and your mind tuning in with the rhythm, even though no music was playing yet.

“Good! Steve, James, you can join in this time.” You spare a look over your shoulder to see the two strangers looking lost, and try not to feel too smug.

Wanda counts you all in once more and again the moves flow out easily, right up to the point where you join with your partner.

The only problem with the Wednesday class was that because it was so small, it was very rare that there were enough dancers to pair up, particularly when there were separate moves for the lead and follow. These past few weeks you’d been dancing with Wanda: which was no great hardship, given that she knew the motions inside out. Now you looked at her expectantly as she walked over and raised her voice so the rest of the class could hear.

“Partner work begins now! Steve, James, you can observe and learn the moves for next week. The rest of you, start a couple of feet apart: I don’t want to have to sign off the paperwork for any injuries.”

There’s a general chuckle, and you face off to Wanda.

“Five, six, a seven and eight!”

And you start the next section.

By the time you’ve completed the warmup, you’re already in need of a drink and you can feel sweat beginning to bead at the small of your back. Wanda calls for a five-minute break and everyone disperses to their water bottles. You take a swig from yours and gratefully accept the towel Clint tosses your way. Pepper shakes her head. “That backbend section is going to kill me!”

“Nah,” You crack a smile, “Not unless Clint drops you.” They both laugh. “Anyway, Pepper, you’re way more flexible than I am.”

Pepper waves that away. Then her gaze settles on something beyond Clint; you turn to look, and see the two gate-crashers stood together, looking (to your private satisfaction) incredibly uncomfortable.

“Hey!” Clint calls, before you can shush him, “You guys are from Fury’s Academy?”

The blonde one, Steve, looks up, then steps closer, his expression a weird blend of guarded and friendly. “Yeah, that’s right.” Then, he frowns. “Sorry, I don’t know a lot of sign.”

Clint waves him away. “Don’t worry about it. Not many people do.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” You cut in, eyeing Steve’s sullen friend, “But what’s Fury’s Academy?”

Steve looks surprised, as though everyone knows about Fury’s Academy; his friend, James, makes a quiet huff of disbelief. You try not to bristle too obviously.

“Ah, it’s a ballet school. On the other side of town.” Pepper covers the awkward moment. “Pretty near your place, actually.”

“Well, yeah.” Steve seems to have recovered somewhat. “It’s not just ballet, they do performing arts degrees and other stuff. But Buck and I are ballet students.”

That was not what you were expecting- although, thinking about it, all that muscle had to come from somewhere.

“Alright, playtime’s over!” Wanda calls over the general chitchat. “Get back here, unless you want Clint to sit on you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Has that actually happened?”

“Yes,” You tell him, straight-faced, “More than once.” Then you stride off as Pepper and Clint dissolve into snickers behind you.

The class is always better when Wanda starts the music. Somehow you never get tired of the songs, even though you listen to them repeatedly when you’re practicing. There’s something about dancing that lends a different quality to a tune, a kind of addictive thrill. Plus, it’s a lot easier to do those squats when you’re dancing at proper speed. Wanda runs through the solo section several times before partnering up, and then she insists they practice with a space between them until she’s sure there will be no accidental punching or kicking. Or dropping, as you had teased Pepper about earlier.

The backbend is hard, you have to admit. Starting with your hand on Wanda’s opposite shoulder, you’re supposed to slide your hand down her arm in one fluid movement, gripping her wrist on the beat then dipping backwards (“Gracefully!” You can hear Wanda shouting) for the count of four, then rising up again without apparent effort. It’s actually harder practicing the move in isolation- when you’re carried forward by the beat, it’s more obvious how the lines should flow. Still, after what feels like endless repetition, Wanda is finally satisfied. Then they run through the whole routine from the top.

“Excellent!” She calls, stepping back. “Hand-in to finish?”

You instantly perk up: hand-in is one of your favourite exercises, and you step forward eagerly as the rest of the class automatically drift into a loose circle. To your consternation, you end up stood next to Steve. He clears his throat conspiratorially and looks down at you.

“Ah, what’s hand-in?”

For an instant, a small, nasty voice in your head says, doesn’t everyone know about hand-in? But you squash it down. He (and his surly friend) might have rubbed you up the wrong way, but there’s no need to be rude.

“It’s an improvisation exercise,” You tell him, “For solo dance. If you want to have a go, you put your hand into the circle, and whoever’s dancing at the time hands-off to you. Like a relay.”

From Steve’s other side comes a quiet, sarcastic voice. “And what’s the point of that?”

You gape in astonishment; but before you can say anything, Wanda starts the music, and Pepper steps into the circle. Wanda’s chosen the slow, thumping beat of Slow Hands; one of your favourites, and Pepper settles into the rhythm with a small smile. On the other side of the circle, Clint already has his hand in.

“I’ve been thinking ‘bout it all day,

And I hope you feel the same way…”

Pepper finishes the phrase then touches Clint’s palm as they trade places.

“Slow hands, like sweat dripping out of my dirty laundry…”

Clint is one of the few strong enough to do the acrobatic tricks Wanda has tried to teach you all, and the surrounding crowd whoop as he drops to the floor then springs upright. Impulsively you thrust out your hand. Unfortunately, both Anna and Dylan have got there first: you’ll have to wait your turn.

“Can’t you tell that I want you, baby?”

And finally, finally, Dylan gives your wrist a tug to signal that you have the floor. You turn your entrance into a series of spins, just to show off, then immediately drop into a wide squat and rocking your hips in a manner that Wanda had once delightedly described as sinful. What’s the point? You think, pulling up and adding in a body roll, to whoops from your classmates, the point is that it’s fun, and sexy, and it’s about letting go and having a good time. You throw in a few isolations, but mostly, you dance like you’re up on a burlesque stage. Down and dirty, teasing and brazen all at once.

“No chance that I’m leaving here without you on me,

I know, yeah I already know that there ain’t no stopping,

Your plans and those,

Slow hands.”

Somebody (Clint) wolf-whistles as the music dies away, and you drop into a graceless bow with a grin.

“Somebody went for it!” Pepper laughs, and you shrug, smiling widely.

“Wanted to have fun,” You say, perhaps a little louder than necessary, as Wanda raises her hand in the air.

“Thanks for coming tonight, everyone! I’ll see you next week. Practice, please!”

There are a chorus of thank-yous, then everyone traipses off to collect their belongings.

“Anyone doing anything exciting tonight?” Pepper asks, as she tugs her jacket back on. You shake your head.

“Vacuuming, probably. Or making soup. One of those two very thrilling options.” You sit down and pull off your trainers. “I’ll wash the socks and bring them back next week, Pepper?”

“That would be perfect. I’ll see you next week, then! Bye!” She picks up her bag and heads for the door. This is normal procedure: for some reason, you’re always the slowest to pack up your things and change back into civilian clothes. Clint gives you a mock salute.

“See you around, Y/N.”

You wave, then yell, “Are you going on another date this Friday?”

Clint nods. “Crazy golf, as per your suggestion.”

“Have fun!” You tell him, grinning widely, and he rolls his eyes before pushing through the exit.

It’s only with the other two gone that you realise that Wanda is talking to Steve and James over by the speakers. You don’t intentionally mean to listen, but they aren’t exactly talking quietly.

“-I have several people in need of partners,” Wanda’s saying. “Particularly in my intermediate class, you might feel more comfortable there-”

“Sorry,” Steve says, and his reflection in the mirror really does look apologetic, “But Wednesdays are the only day we can do.”

“Well…” Wanda appears to be thinking hard. “I think Dylan’s going back to the states in two weeks, so Anna will be without a partner. And Y/N could dance with one of you.”

Your heart drops in horror. Partnered with the condescending blonde or the sulky model? No, no, no! You grab your bag and walk, as quickly and quietly as possible, to the exit. Wanda’s voice fades as the door swings shut behind you.

You know that Wanda is only partnering you because they don’t have any more leads, but it still stings a bit that she’s offering you up to somebody else. There’s a reason you enjoy partner work so much: because Wanda is a good partner. Obviously. She’s the teacher. You stride across the lobby, resolving to put it behind you, then stop dead in your tracks. Because this day couldn’t get any better.

Five minutes later, and the rain is still pouring down. You sit on the trestle table that serves as a registration desk for the beginner and intermediate classes and watch the water splashing on the pavement. You hadn’t exactly been fibbing when you told Pepper you could get a bus, but the bus-stop is a ten-minute walk in the wrong direction, and home is only a twenty-minute walk as it is. Surely the rain can’t last forever.

Behind you, the studio door opens and closes, and your shoulders tense instinctively.

“Oh, great. When’s the next bus, Buck?”

You keep your eyes fixed on the window.

“Not ‘til nine thirty. What’s the matter, Stevie, scared of a bit of rain?”

“That,” Steve says, crossing to the window and peering out, “Is a biblical flood. But OK, if you want to go out and get drowned-”

“Steve,” Despite your irritation, you can hear the eye-roll implicit in the word, “We have an umbrella.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs, but his expression is fond, “Let’s go out into the river- oh, sorry, the street.” He turns back, and his gaze fixes on you. “Excuse me? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

You sit up a little straighter, feeling guarded. “It’s Y/N.”

Steve nods, maybe to show that he’s got it. “Didn’t- your friend-”

“Pepper,” You help him out reluctantly, suddenly realising what he’s going to say with a sinking sensation in your stomach.

“Pepper, didn’t she say you lived near the Academy? Do you want to walk with us?”

“I don’t actually know,” You answer, carefully, “Where is the Academy?”

“Blackhill Road,” James answers, to your surprise. Which is actually only two streets away from you. Internally, you give a deep, heartfelt sigh. Then you get to your feet.

“Sure. Why not.”

“Alright then.” Steve doesn’t seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm. “Umbrella up, Buck!”

“Sorry,” You say, reluctantly going over to stand beside them, “Buck?”

James’ expression shifts one degree warmer. “Bucky. It’s what my friends call me.”

“Guess I’d better call you James, then.” As soon as the words pop out, you suck your lips over your teeth in shock. You can’t believe you’ve just said that.

James- Bucky- raises his eyebrows. You’d almost go so far as to say he looked mildly amused. Steve certainly seems to be holding back a laugh.

“Well,” You say, attempting to salvage some dignity, “I barely know you. And you can’t expect to insult my dance style and have me immediately enjoy your company.” Your voice is taut with irritation and forced humour. “What don’t you like about commercial dance, anyway? In fact,” An even more important question occurs to you, “If you hate it so much, why are you here in the first place?”

“I personally don’t hate it,” Steve says, mildly, holding the door open. “But we took a module that requires twelve hours of broadening our dance experience.”

“Ah,” You say, stepping outside, “You were forced here. That makes a lot more sense.”

Behind you, there’s the rustle of an umbrella opening. Steve takes the handle and James puts himself on the other side of his friend. You can’t say you’re disappointed. Like an uncomfortable three-legged race, you begin to walk carefully down the pavement.

“It’s more that there’s no depth to it,” James says, after a while, raising his voice over the sound of the rain and cars swooshing past. It’s nearly dark, even though summer is around the corner.

For a moment, you’re speechless. Then you recover your voice, even if it nearly cracks with incredulity. “No depth.”

“You heard me.” It sounds like there might be smile behind those words, but you can’t see. You can, however, see Steve raising his eyes to the sky.

“And I suppose ballet has depth?” You fire back. “Because it’s all about discipline and tragedy?”

Steve snorts. “She has a point, Buck.” Then he bobbles to one side as James presumably shoves him. You squeak and dodge a large puddle.

“Think carefully about who’s side you’re on, Stevie. I’m the one with the power to put a spider in your bed.”

Steve shudders, and, despite yourself, you laugh.

“You’re roommates?”

“For my sins,” James answers, like he can’t help himself. Then he gets shoved into a puddle.

“I think Steve is probably the one suffering,” You say, mildly, “If he has to live with a dance hipster.”

“Dance hipster?”

You throw his own reply back at him. “You heard me.”

A lorry comes charging down the road and all three of you flinch away from the spray of water it’s throwing up from its wheels.

“Anyway,” You continue, “There is depth to commercial dancing. It’s about having fun, and creating a spectacle. And take Stay! That’s a deep song right there.”

“The song we were dancing to earlier?” James sounds so incredibly sceptical that you have to hold back a laugh.

“Yes! It’s about nostalgia for a lost youth and craving for love that no longer exists.”

Even Steve now looks sceptical. “Seriously?”

You sing the lyrics softly. “Waiting for the time to pass you by, hope the winds of change will change your mind… All you have to do is stay, a minute, just take your time, the clock is ticking, so stay…” You break off. “See? If that were sung half-time by a gentle voice and a ukulele it would be playing in every Starbucks before the month was out. And, finally,” You say, with some feeling, “Something doesn’t have to be deep to be good.”

Neither James nor Steve can come up with a rebuttal, and you can’t help but feel smug.

“So, what do you do at ballet school?” You ask, deciding to quit the previous topic of conversation whilst you’re winning. “Dance from dawn ‘til dusk?”

“No,” James answers, his voice dry, “We have stretching classes.”

“But apart from that, you’re dancing all the time,” You say, with a touch of disbelieving humour.

“Well, there’s our compulsory modules,” Steve says, and you nod.

“Like the one that’s forced you here tonight.”

Steve inclines his head. “We have a couple of others- analysis, choreography, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds interesting.”

James snorts. “Are you just saying that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “No. Unlike some, I don’t have ridiculous prejudices against entire genres.” Which is a damn-good comeback, though you say so yourself. The moment is slightly ruined, however, by you stepping into a puddle that sloshes over the top of your shoes. “God- gosh-darn it!”

“Gosh-darn it?” There’s entirely too much teasing in Steve’s tone. You glare at the floor.

“My colleagues have bet me that I can’t stop swearing for a whole month. It’s much harder than I thought it would be.”

To your surprise, both Steve and James laugh.

“Where do you work?” Steve asks.

“The university library. I’m always telling people it’s not as boring as it sounds.”

In fact, you adore your job at the library, but you always end up gushing if you open up about it. However, casual conversation about that very topic is what carries you and Steve (and occasionally James chipping in) all the way back to the turn-off for your street.

“This is where I leave you,” You say, glancing grimly out from under the umbrella at the rain still insistently falling. “Thanks for sharing your umbrella, I guess?”

Steve nods politely. “Sure you don’t want us to walk you to your door?”

It’s your turn to snort. “Do you they teach you 1950s manners in that Academy? Thanks for the offer, but I’m OK. It’s literally just down this road.” You know it’s probably ridiculous, but the idea of people you’ve just met knowing exactly where you live is also a little bit creepy. Steve smiles but accepts your refusal.

“OK, if you say so. We’ll see you next week?”

You duck out from under the umbrella and make a dash up the pavement.

“See you next week!”

Behind you, you can hear them laughing.

AN: This was long. Also, there are a handful of people who liked the introduction then followed me, so I took the liberty of assuming you enjoyed the story and added you to the tag list. If it turns out to be not to your taste, then just drop me a message and I’ll remove you :) Anyways thank you so? Much? for the response to the introduction! And I hope you enjoy this part!

P.S. This is the first time I’ve written a partially deaf character, so if I get something wrong or you feel something is offensive, please please let me know so I can fix it <3

Tag list: @debzybrazy @underneath-the-nightsky @blonde0n

Part 2

[highschoolharrier]

Mark Lahaye is the cross country coach at St. Joseph’s Academy in Baton Rouge and has coached his team to two 5A state titles the past three years.  He is a multi-time state coach of the year.

High School Harrier: Your program has won two of the last three state titles in Louisiana 5A and looks as a top contender for this year as well. Entering the season, does the make-up of your current squad resemble those teams that have won in the past?

Mark Lahaye: Not at all. Our 2017 team is extremely young and inexperienced compared to any of our earlier teams. It is also our smallest team in terms of numbers. Last season we had nine seniors, three of which ran in our top-7 for the bulk of the season. Plus, we had three juniors with experience running in our top-7. This season we are down to only two seniors with varsity experience. And of our 23 runners, eleven are new to the team. So I can’t say this team resembles anything close to any of my four previous teams. But, I must say, I really like what I’ve seen this summer. This group of girls really push each other every day. Our top returners are coming off a great track season and did not waste their summer. This may sound overly optimistic, but I really believe this young inexperienced team has the potential to be our best team yet. There is just a great chemistry with this team.

HSH: You've had several girls compete at the Nike Cross Regional in the Woodlands recently. Has that experience helped the girls learn that there is much greater level of competitiveness they can rise to?

ML: I definitely think so. At last year’s NXS, we arrived early to the Park and set up our team area in a corner of the parking lot. Minutes later we were descended upon by this huge team. It had to be at least 100 runners. They just surrounded us. But you could see and feel their confidence. It was awesome. It turned out to be South Lake Carroll HS. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to visit with one of their coaches for a short time during the day. I think they may have had teams entered in every race. And as you know, they won both the Girls and Boys Championship Division races that day. When I told my girls who they were and what they did before we left the Park, it gave them chills. They are really excited to return and compete against the level of competition that NXS provides.

HSH: What about your program do you think is the reason for your recent success?

ML: I think a lot of it is simply a culture change. I make sure the girls, especially the incoming freshmen, understand from day-1 that the expectations for them at SJA, and for our XC team are very high. At the very beginning of our introductory meeting held before the beginning of summer training, I tell them with all the passion, confidence, and enthusiasm I can show that we ARE going to win State. That it IS going to happen. And if they want to be a part of this state champion team they are going to have to earn their spot. That it’s going to be the hardest and most enjoyable experience they are going to have during their 4-years of high school. For many of the freshmen that’s their first time meeting me, and I’m right up in front of them loud and excited speaking directly to them. It just sets the tone for the rest of our discussion and I have their total attention from that point on. Another thing I do, it may be minor, but it’s in keeping with maintaining expectations. At the close of every email I use a quote from Vince Lombardi that reads, “Winning means you are willing to go longer, work harder, and do more than anyone else.”  I let my girls know that this is what we do. That we show up every day with a positive attitude, with unbridled enthusiasm, and we give 100% effort.

HSH: Does your program have any traditions that the girls like to do on a yearly basis?

ML: Well this is only my fifth season here at SJA so I guess you could say that’s evolving. The team does have its daily practice traditions, like where we “rock-up” to pray, and do our “energy-check” at the end of every practice. We also have our race-day traditions, like the “braiding of the hair” and doing our “go-cheer” on the line. One tradition we do now, which is related to our culture change, is each season I choose a one-word mantra that will define the character, direction, and vision for the team and we put it on the back of our warmup t-shirt. It usually takes me through the summer watching the girls interact with each through our practices to make the right choice. I get all kinds of suggestions all summer long from everyone, including my wife. By the end of the summer the girls are genuinely excited to find out what the “word” will be before we start the season. I now make this “big reveal” at our end-of-summer camp. This year our word is “Trust”. I believe that’s going to fit us well this season. But, I think our newfound annual tradition that the girls get most excited for is our end-of-summer running camp. We spend four days at a little B&B on Lake Rosemound north of St. Francisville running the hills of Tunica, setting our goals for the season, electing our team council, playing competitive games, revealing our “word”, and bonding as a team. And of course, we’re working hard to establish a tradition of winning. Winning the state championship each year seems like a pretty good tradition to strive for.

HSH: What do you do as a coach to build the community/camaraderie of your program?

ML: Good question. First, I’m very fortunate to be associated with a great group of girls and great families each year, and the staff at SJA is unbelievably supportive from top to bottom. It makes coaching these girls a blessing. I believe changing the culture of our program as I mentioned earlier was key. Immediately after my first season at SJA, the school media department interviewed two of our top runners for a video they were doing for school about our fall sports. It occurred maybe a week or two after the State Meet where we had placed third. One of my runners, Sarah Catherine LeBlanc, finished her interview stating, “People are going to recognize us. We are going to be the team that everyone wants to beat. Believe it.” It was awesome hearing those words from one of my runners, and after only my first year at SJA. The following season, with SCL as our senior captain, and most fittingly, “Believe” as our “word”, we won State. We now have total buy-in from everyone and SCL was instrumental in that effort. I use this video interview with SCL every year in our team introductory meeting. Another thing I might add, as a non-faculty coach, I’m unable to see my girls during the day as I would if I was teaching there at SJA. The only times I see them are at our practices, workouts, and our Meets. So to add more quality time with my girls, I began hosting weekly breakfast meetings during the XC season with a few team members (by grade, team council, top-7) every Wednesday morning before school at a local coffee shop. I treat the girls to coffee and beignets and we talk about school, family activities and team stuff. It gives me a little bit extra face time with them and gives them the opportunity to share something with me that they might not be able to at practice. They love it.

HSH: Does the recent rivalries between your girls, Mandeville and Lafayette motivate them, or are they mainly an intrinsically motivated group?

ML: A little of both. We love our rivalry with Mandeville in XC. They definitely motivate us. We know that each and every season they are the team to beat. And if you want to be the best, you have to beat the best, and that’s been Mandeville. Now with Lafayette, it’s been more of a track rivalry so far. They are so awesome on the track. But this XC season, look out. We know they are going to be strong competition. But we also sort of compete with the other fall sports at SJA. Our school is known most for being a powerhouse in volleyball and swimming. Our volleyball team has won numerous state titles and is literally in the state finals every year. Same with our swimming team, which is on a winning streak of six straight state titles. Our XC team is extremely motivated to match these high standards set by their SJA sisters in these other sports.

HSH: Do you have any girls you think are ready to have a breakout season?

ML: I think so. Junior Lauren Hendry is coming off a strong track season being the 5A state champion in the 3200, and she just finished an awesome summer of training. Junior Taylor Winters and sophomore Virginia Dirks both had strong outdoor track seasons, and also had great summers. One of our two seniors, Jennifer Bennett, should be up there as well. We do have some juniors and sophomores, and maybe a freshman or two that could be the difference maker for us this season, as Virginia was last season. We’re going to be a fun team to watch.

HSH: Do you have any regular season meets that your team is looking forward to (besides the big SJA meet)?

ML: Personally, I get pumped for our opening inter-school scrimmage. We treat it like the first Meet. I want to see how well our summer training paid off, and compare it to prior years. Plus, it’s really our first time to see what our freshmen and other newbies can do at the 3M distance in a race environment. As for real Meets, definitely the Christian Brothers Invitational at Money Hill. We’ll line up against Mandeville on their home turf. That’s always fun. And this season, we’re travelling up to north LA to compete in the Airline HS XC Festival at Oakland Plantation. It’s a 5K single loop course. That’s an addition to our schedule that the team is really excited about. And of course, the Catholic High Invitational. That’s typically the largest race of the season with the most quality competition. All the top Girls teams compete in this Meet.

HSH: What does the average week for a varsity level runner look like?

ML: Good question. We’re going through some changes in our in-season training routines right now. “Change” has been the operative word for me since January. I feel like Coach O this season, changing everything. We began instituting a portion of it last January during the Indoor track season, and continued tweaking it during the Outdoor track season. It’s still a work in progress, but now that school has started we’re settling into a consistent weekly routine. Our typical training week begins with a long run day, followed by a tempo run day, and finishes with a pace-interval day. We mix in steady-state runs and recovery days in between. I really measure our run times in minutes, but all in all a varsity runner will average between 28 to 35 miles per week.

HSH: I'm an incoming freshman. What does my training and racing look like for the fall?

ML: It’s really a continuance to the last question. Many of the changes we’re making are to better acclimate our freshmen to the program. I preach ‘patience’ to all of them, and to their parents for that matter. We’re very fortunate that most all of our freshmen have run XC at their middle school. But they now must get used to not being the top runner on the team as they may have been in middle school. Plus, they have likely never experienced training on a daily basis. Once school starts, daily practice is mandatory, so that’s something very new for all of them, and their parents. I coached middle school XC for 12-years prior to taking this position at SJA so I have a good feel for the training that most of the girls have received coming in. They must quickly learn and perform the same warmups and drills, the same strength and mobility routines, core exercises, and everything else as the rest of the team. They will experience the same workout sessions, but always at a lesser volume and a bit less intensity. A freshman runner will average between 20 to 24 miles per week. In addition to patience, injury prevention is another key for them. I let my parents know that they have to have their eyes and ears open for me and be on the lookout that their daughters are not trying to hide an injury. We want to identify it and address it immediately so they can have a full, fun, exciting XC season their freshman year. As for racing, since we don’t have the numbers to have a competitive freshman team, I tell them that they can expect to start competing at the 2M distance and we will work up to the 3M distance over the course of the season. But, if they show me they can be a top runner, and they break into our top-7 sooner rather than later…well then woohoo, baby let’s go!

HSH: What is your favorite workout for cross country and why do you do it?

ML: Ha. When I ask my girls this question, the answer is split between “400’s” and our “adventure run”. No matter if it’s on the track or on the grass at Highland, or whether we do them as repeats, or follow the 3M course and do them as cruise intervals, they all love running short and fast stuff. Now the “adventure run” is something I started doing with them during my second season. It’s really just a recovery run, but the rule is they have to follow me wherever I go and in single file. I take them off the 3M course at Highland down the trails used by the frisbee-golfers, through the ditches, and all around the park, but off the course. We even went through the cemetery once. I may throw in a bear crawl, a cartwheel or a barrel-roll, or just something odd and unexpected during the run, which they then have to copy. It’s just a fun off-beat recovery day for us. They really enjoy this run the most after the time changes and it gets dark earlier. That’s when it becomes our “glow-stick run”.

HSH: What part of training do you think is the most important for the high school athlete?

ML: I think first and foremost it’s the balance between academics and athletics. St. Joseph’s Academy is a Blue-Ribbon school with very high academic standards. SJA also has high expectations with their athletic program. They want to be competitive in every sport. Of our nine seniors on the team last season, eight earned Academic All-State honors. On our XC team this season, we have multiple student-athletes in every grade taking Honors or AP classes, and quite a few of them carry a 4.0 GPA. I asked our incoming freshmen about their grades in middle school and most all of them told me they made “straight-A’s”. It’s incredible. Our girls are involved in Beta Club, Latin Club, Spanish Club, Student Ministry, Student Council, and so many other extra-curricular activities. You name it our girls are in it. On top of that, all of them are volunteering throughout the summer and the school year to earn their 50-hours of community service. They are definitely over-achievers. All four of my children ran XC and track during their four years of high school. I watched as they spent numerous hours at practices, races, service projects, and other school activities, and then came home to spend twice as many hours studying and doing homework. As a parent, I expected my children’s coaches to understand and respect that. Now as a coach, I really take that to heart. I do everything I can to help my student-athletes achieve that balance so that they can excel in both their academics and their sport.

HSH: If you could spend more time developing one aspect of your program, what would it be?

ML: I think we’re heading in the right direction with our training and our team culture, but if I could add another component I think that would be to take it to a true year-round program. We’re moving that way, and we’re getting closer every year, but we’re just not there yet. Building more consistency in our training program, while still maintaining a healthy balance between school, family, and team is the goal.

HSH: How big is your program and how do you determine who makes the squad?

ML: I think we’re really small compared to most 5A teams. We only have 23 girls on the roster this season, and we had only 26 last season. We have over 1,100 girls at SJA yet less than 40 come out for XC each summer. We have made a name for ourselves at school these past four years as a serious team that trains just as hard as the volleyball, basketball, soccer and swimming teams. We’re not a running club. We have minimum attendance requirements over the course of our summer training program with minimum performance standards that they have to meet by the end of the summer. Nothing too difficult, just something to separate the serious runners from the non-serious runners. The non-serious part-time runners figure out quickly whether or not they have what it takes to be part of our team. Those are typically the ones that drop out over the course of summer training. The ones that survive the summer, the serious runners, take great pride in knowing that they earned their spot on the team.

HSH: Do you have any rags to riches stories of girls who were average at the start but ended up being a big part of your team success?

ML: The runner that comes first to mind is Jennifer Bennett. She’s a senior for us this season. She was a so-so runner in middle school who ran because her mom and older sister and her cousins ran. She began her freshman summer of training as a back of the pack runner who was satisfied being there. One day during the summer her older cousin told her she had no business being in the back of the pack and that she needed to move up. With what seemed like no added effort Jenn moved up from our group-4 to group-3. She started her freshman fall season as a mid-pack runner and slowly but surely continued to improve. She actually PR’d every single race her freshman season moving from the #15 position to #10 and finally to our #5 spot. She ran in the State Meet for us that first season finishing as our #4 runner and 12th overall. She continued improving her sophomore year running in our top-5 all season and finishing the year as our #3 runner and 14th overall at State. And last season, she continued running in our top-5 and again finished the year as our #3 runner with a 6th place finish at State. Jenn is a quiet leader who leads by example. She’s a real goofball at times, but she’s also a fierce competitor. I’m looking forward to watching her continue to grow her senior season.

Photo courtesy of Tina Lahaye