#and they never really split up champs like they do classics

[an-apple-a-day-or2]

just saw US champs has 42!!!!! senior gymnasts qualified

Genuinely how are they going to manage that with tv / timing / etc. Like even last year was ~30ish and that was a lot

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I��”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[giggleeclown]

Laughust day 11: Magic Trick

(Disclaimer! The other clown in this fic is Bigtop’s mentor, Macintosh! He is not Bigtop’s father, but acts like a father figure to him! Any implication that they are father and son in this fanfiction isn’t familial by biological standards! Also… I know this fanfiction centers on foot tickling. Obviously this is all sfw. No fetish implied!)

The old ‘saw your partner in half’ trick is a famous classic. As much as you know about the old trick, there’s still a little anticipation when it comes to someone being seemingly split down the middle.

That’s why Bigtop was determined to learn how to perfect it. Excited to pull it off, Bigtop asked his mentor, Macintosh, for help. Macintosh, however, was not so eager. Despite being a toon and not being able to get too terribly hurt without bouncing back, it was in his nature to be scared. But even so, Mac didn’t want to restrict Bigtop’s performance skills. He was just as eager when he was his age. Reluctantly, the veteran clown anxiously got into the magic box.

“Hmmm… now let’s see here.” Bigtop whistled and began to flip through the pages of his magicians book. Finally, he came to the page with the instructions on sawing. “PUR-FECTION!” He cheered. Placing his finger on the lesson in question, he began to read.

“Ooookie dokie, step one.”

Suddenly, Bigtop heard a quick clicking noise. He looked down to see his own mentor looking anxious and failing to stop the chattering of his teeth. “Oh, Mac,” Bigtop frowned. “I’m sorry… Havin’ second thoughts?”

Macintosh frowned more. “No, no, sport, I’m sorry. I wanted to teach yah everything you needed to know about performing. I shouldn’t be scared of this old trick.”

Bigtop went silent for a moment. He felt guilty watching Macintosh uncomfortably tense in his restraints, but he knew that Mac wanted to stay devoted. That’s why Bigtop chuckled when he realized his restraints were just too convenient for his idea of ‘stress relief.’

“Y’know, Mac, there’s only one thing you should be scared of right now.”

“H-huh?”

With a swift movement, Bigtop sneakily glided his finger down the sole of his mentor’s left foot. He yelped out in surprise as he felt his face and ears tingle with a familiar warmth.

“N-now, son, there’s no need for tha-hA-HAHAHAT!”

There was no need for hesitation in Bigtop’s mind. He playfully teased Macintosh’s heels, switching up the sensation by tickling the top of his feet.

“Aww, gitchy gitchy! Yer just the silliest clown in the whole circus, ain’tcha? I got ya! I got ya!” He giggled.

“N-NONONOHOHO! CUT THAHAT OUT KIDDOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAH!”

“Aww, sorry, Maccie! No can do! It ain’t all the time when I’ve gotcha all restrained like this. Ya AAALWAYS have to win these fights, and I’m finally doin somethin’ about it!” The grin that Bigtop grinned was genuinely sweet despite the mischief hinted in it. He grinned even harder when he heard the honk emit from Mac the moment he pinched his toes.

“P-PLEHEHE- AHAHA! KIDDO, STAHAHA!” Poor Macintosh couldn’t do anything more than wiggle- or… at least try to. Bigtop knew that the old master was durable, but he did have his limits when it was unexpected.

“Ohh, all right, old man. You got off easy this time!” But before poor Macintosh could heave out even a small ‘thank you’, Bigtop clawed and scribbled his fingers all over Mac’s feet. But evertheless, just as quickly as he had begun to laugh did the latch to the magic box pop open.

“Y..yeheheh… Wahahait, kiddo, didn’t you want me to, uhm, practice with ya?”

“Are you kiddin’, old timer? I’d never make ya scared on purpose, or make ya go through somethin’ ya don’t really want to! No good comes from all’at!” He smiled, this time gently, patting his mentor on the shoulder. What he didn’t expect was for Mac to pull him into a hug.

“You sure are somethin’, champ.” Mac chuckled. Bigtop resisted the urge to melt into the hug as he rolled his eyes endearingly.

“Where do ya think I got it from?”

[amanda-teaches]

Prove It

Summary: A friendly competition between you and Dean escalates just a little too far.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Laser Tag for @spnfluffbingo​ and Play Fighting for @spndeanbingo​

Word Count: 960

Warnings: Competitive Dean, playful fighting, use of the word swindler, general fluff

A/N: Here’s some fun fluff to hold you all over until the next chapter of Til Death Do Us Part? this weekend. It was written based on a request by @spngeek7983​ for my 2k challenge.

The competition had been going on for three grueling days and nights.

It started off innocently enough. Sunday night, you’d volunteered to cook dinner for the boys, running to the store for all the ingredients you needed for beef bolognese. When you got back to the bunker, you kicked Dean and Sam out of the kitchen, getting straight to work. A few hours later, a piping hot meal was sitting on the table.

“Wow, Y/N, this looks amazing,” Sam said with a warm smile, folding his tall, lanky frame into one of the chairs. Dean followed suit, breathing the smell in.

“Yeah, babe. Smells fantastic.”

Sam tasted the dish first, sighing softly with pleasure. “Wow…Y/N, this is delicious. Honestly, I think this may be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Dean scoffed in offense. “Hey! Who’s been cooking for you since you were in diapers?”

Sam made eye contact with you and grinned conspiratorially. “Sorry, Dean. I guess Y/N’s just better.”

“Pshh,” he huffed. “I bet if I cooked this thing, it’d come out ten times better.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed, more amused than insulted. “Prove it.”

And, that’s how the war started. A simple little cook-off that snowballed into so much more. Soon, it was who could down a glass of whiskey the fastest, who was the better shot, who knew more of the lore books by memory.

Very quickly, you ran out of legitimate things to compete over, so you moved on to ridiculous contests. Tonight’s was a classic: Mario Kart.

“VICTORY!” Dean shouted, throwing down his controller and tossing his hands up into the air as his car crossed the finish line. “Take that!”

“Not fair! You got to pick Yoshi first. We all know he’s the best.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, like you didn’t cheat in the marshmallow contest? I saw you squishing them together.”

You gasped, jumping up. “I did not!”

He mirrored you, jumping up and smirking as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yeah? I guess it’s just too bad there weren’t any marshmallows here, huh?”

“Oh, you, you...swindler!” you yelled, frustration boiling over. “Maybe you should just sleep out here with your victory then.”

“Wait a second,” Dean sputtered, his smirk fading. “I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”

“Exactly,” you avowed, spinning around to leave, but Dean grabbed your elbow.

“Y/N, baby, come on, it’s just a game.”

You laughed. “Oh, now it’s just a game when you’re sleeping on the couch, but when you were winning...”

 “I’m sorry, okay,” Dean pleaded, his voice as smooth as honey. He put on his most charming smile and pulled you closer to him. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He pulled his tongue between his teeth, his eyes darkening. “I’ll make it up to you, huh?”

“Hmm…” you hummed for a second, closing your eyes as you pretended to consider it. You quickly made your decision, opened your eyes, and grinned, knowing you had him now. “How about no, champ.”

His mouth fell open in astonishment. “Okay, okay.” Dean dropped his hand, changing tactics. “I know when I’m beat. How ‘bout this? One more game, no cheating, no tricks. No matter who wins, we accept it and move on with our lives, no more competition, no more grudges, and no hard feelings.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, suspecting some kind of hidden agenda after the past three days of ruthless competition and bragging. “What game?”

“Something we’re both good at.” He thought for a second before his face split into a grin. “I have just the thing.”

You cocked your gun, bracing yourself in a wide, open stance. Holding the gun to your chest, you peered around the corner, scanning from side to side.

You didn’t see Dean anywhere, but that didn’t mean a thing. He was an expert at this, and you knew he could camouflage pretty much anywhere. That was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place, the jerk.

Taking a deep breath, you moved around the corner, keeping your back to the wall as you walked. You held your gun up high, staying alert as your eyes scanned every darkened corner for any sign of your boyfriend.

You’d almost made it to the next area of cover when Dean dropped out of nowhere, raising his gun up high with a shout. You kicked your leg out, sweeping his before he could shoot. As he fell to the ground, you raised your gun to his chest, firing a laser stream until all of the lights on his vest began to flash red.

“HA! I did it! I beat the great Dean Winchester at laser tag. Yes!!!!” You threw your hands up in the air and spun around, doing a little victory dance.

Dean chuckled, holding his hand out for you to help him up. “Yeah, you did, but you think you could’ve been any gentler with the take-down? I think you broke me…”

“Aw, sorry, honey,” you apologized, wrapping your arms so your hands were resting on his back. You began to massage his muscles, slowly moving lower. “I’ll make it up to you, huh?”

He grinned as your hands landed on his ass. “Mmm, good idea. You know, I think I’m getting a little too old for this play fighting stuff.”

“Oh, you’ll never be too old for me,” you breathed out, your voice turning seductive as your hands gripped him even tighter. “Want a chance to prove it?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he exclaimed excitedly, grabbing you and lifting you up, throwing you over his shoulder. “I think this is one competition I’m definitely gonna win.”

Forevers- @atc74​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @be-amaziing​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @deanwanddamons​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @dolphincliffs​ @edgeofreality35​ @emoryhemsworth​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @heyitscam99​ @impala-dreamer​ @impandagrl​ @karikatz12481​ @katymacsupernatural​ @maddiepants​ @masksandtruths​ @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester​ @mysterious-398​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @pinknerdpanda​ @roxyspearing​ @spnbaby-67​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @wi-deangirl77​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​

Dean Tags - @adoptdontshoppets​ @akshi8278​ @alexwinchester23​  @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @flamencodiva​ @squirrelnotsam​

[shreddedparchment]

Heavy is the Hand You’re Dealt

Part 1

08/24/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader, Steve x Reader     Word Count: 10,081

Prompt: Imposter - Bearson            Masterpost

What you see could be fire burning bright into the sky/What you see could be strength that leads to victory /And I, all I am is an imposter…who’s trying to forget.

Warnings: Eventual smut, language, angst, pining, violence, blood, the Snap

A/N: This piece is for @youngmoneymilla ‘s 5K Writing Challenge. I TRIED to make this a one shot. I really did. But I failed. It’ll be two parts. The prompt will influence the second part more than the first but small bits of it can be seen in this first part. I am exhausted! lol this piece really took it out of me. xoxo

There will be NO tags for this story as it is only two parts. Thank you.

Beginnings are important. They are your base. From the beginning you are shaped and molded by your future. So, this is your beginning. This is where you start. This is how you got where you are. Steve was your beginning.

~~~~~

You know those sweet, dizzying, bitter butterflies that you get when you look at that one special person? Or that weightless sensation you get when that one person takes your breath away? Or the hope and promise of tomorrow when you stay up for hours, daydreaming about how nice it would be if they told you they like you back?

Steve Rogers makes you feel like that.

Steve Rogers makes you feel many things.

Hopelessly smitten being the most prevalent.

It happens during one short workout session. You’re punching a bag, struggling to keep your fist from sliding off the side.

The old boxing gym smells of mold and sweat, an ancient building with smokestack gray walls, dingy mats that used to be white, a creaking old boxing ring, and over worn wood both splintered in places and smooth as silk. The overhead lights cast sporadic spotlights, yellow shine against the faded brown floors.

Pictures of boxing champs from the days before color photographs are set on display around the room, brightening the atmosphere with immortalized victories and the smiles of strong young men who have now withered and weakened.

You’ve chosen this place, this aged spot, because it’s cheap and it’s what you can afford but you’ve warmed to its charms.

The old man who owns it gave you a fair deal and a locker to boot. You come and go often but always after dark, when your days at the academy are over.

Today is no different and you race for the door as the storm clouds overhead swirl and weigh heavy on the city. The breeze twists around your bare arms, kissing it warm with car exhaust and then thunder rumbles and the sky flashes and is then split open with a crackling boom.

The incessant honking of the cars in the city do little to drown out the coming storm. As the rain stutters into a pour, you reach the unassuming doorway. You hear the click as it locks and you gasp, desperate to get in.

“Mr. Davis!” You plead, knowing that he might not hear you.

As the hiss of the rain grows louder, the door is unlocked and pushed open. You sigh with relief, stepping back a bit and search slightly above your eye line for Mr. Davis’s withered face. Instead you find one broad shoulder, a baby blue button up underneath a brown leather bomber.

You follow the smooth curve of hard and toned muscle to a thick muscular neck.

Do models come to this gym? It’s the only explanation that you can come up with at the utter beauty that you find yourself looking at.

He’s tall, soft storm blue eyes, perfect, classical features, topped with a soft yet carefully styled head of corn husk yellow hair.

“Sorry, ma’am, the gym’s closed.” He tells you, smooth even voice deep and curious.

Ma’am?!

“I-I know.” You stutter stupidly, completely taken aback by this extremely gorgeous guy. “I…Mr. Davis lets me come in after the gym closes. I just…I forgot my key.”

The blonde considers you for a moment then looks out at the rain. His eyes zero in on your right shoulder before throwing the door open suddenly.

“Hurry.”

You scramble inside, grateful for the warmer air of the gym.

“Don’t you hate how you get cold if you get wet when it rains? Even if it’s burning hot outside?” You turn to look at the tall blonde and he gives you a polite smile.

“Yes.” He answers simply. “Excuse me.”

“Of course.” You reply, rubbing your arms for friction. “Don’t mind me.”

He nods at you and leaves you in your slightly damp state.

“Right…” You say to yourself as you head towards the much smaller female locker room. “Don’t mind me.”

You throw your punch, twisting your arm like you’re supposed to, aiming to hit with your fist. Focused. Dedicated. Completely sucking.

“You’re too loose.” The blonde says from behind you.

You only just manage not to gasp as you’re startled into turning around. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He says, “Hold your arms up, I’ll show you.”

You watch him approach then turn to face the punching bag, raising your fists carefully and desperately trying to keep from thinking about how good this stranger looks in his off-white t-shirt and soft gray jersey sweats.

“Your stance is off too.” He says then stands behind you, hesitating. “May I?”

The nervous look in his eyes makes your heart flutter. Where is this guy from?

He exudes gentility and respect. Mostly respect. The fact that he’s asking to move closer to you, to even check if it’s okay, who does that now-a-days?

“Of course.” You smile at him. “Yes. Please.”

His shy half smile makes your heartbeat stutter and you turn away from him so that he can’t see the crush you have on him already so firmly set in your eyes.

The heat of his body envelops you as he stands with his chest to your back. It’s only a moment of contact as he reaches out to wrap your fists in each of his hands, adjusting the angle of your arms before he stands up straight again and then taps the insides of your feet, moving them until your stance is more open and centered.

“You feel that?” He asks, voice seductive but you’re sure that’s just you. God, he sounds like ice cream tastes.

“Er…yeah.” You mutter.

“Keep your arms hard. And follow through with your punch. Move your whole shoulder with it. Punching is not something you do with only your arms. You use your whole body to push that power through. It also helps keep it straight when you follow through with your shoulder.” He looks down at you, his breath tickling your left earlobe, and your neck, cheeks, chest, arms, legs, thighs especially, your pussy too…they all just flame up.

You’re suddenly very aware of how long exactly it’s been since you’ve had sex and damn it if this is not just the most awful form of torture because the perfect blonde man steps back, releasing you.

If you weren’t so embarrassed by the pool of lust in your panties, you would have probably melted to the floor the moment he released you.

Lucky you, there’s a reason you’re even in the academy and you seem to keep your wits about you and manage to hold the stance he’s put you in.

“Like this?” You check.

“Yeah. Go ahead, give it a punch.” He says, indicating the bag.

Every bit of yearning you’re suddenly swamped with you channel into your hit and with a resounding SMACK, the bag swings away from you as you hit it dead center.

You laugh, forgetting your flustered state, clapping your wrapped hands as you jump twice.

“Oh my God!” You gasp, laughing some more.

A small chuckle behind you makes you turn. He’s laughing. The beautiful stranger is chuckling with you.

“Thank you, so much!” You gush, eyes pouring gratitude.

“No problem, Miss.” He makes to leave you, headed back to his own corner but you take a step towards him.

“Y/N.” You tell him, reaching over to massage the top of your left forearm with your right hand. “My name is Y/N. You make me feel ancient calling me ma’am and miss.”

The blonde smiles wider, looking down at his feet before meeting you with that devastatingly gorgeous half smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” And he moves towards you, taped hand held out towards you.

You take it, eager to touch him and greet him properly.

“I’m Steve.” He tells you, shaking your much smaller hand gently but you already know it’s not because he thinks you’re weak but because he’s just polite that way. “Steve Rogers.”

“It’s nice to meet-” You blink, your own hand gripping his even tighter as the name registers. “Did you just say Steve Rogers?”

Steve blinks nervously, licking his lips and suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“As in Captain America, Steve Rogers?” You clarify, eyes wide, heart pounding.

“Um…” He looks around nervously for a second before meeting your eyes again and trying to pull his hand from your grip, but you tighten it more. “Yes.”

“I…” Your surprised expression gives way for genuine excitement. “It’s…It’s so great to meet you! I don’t—I don’t wanna sound like some fangirl or anything but we’re actually studying you in the academy right now. I’m so honored to meet you.”

You laugh once but Steve still seems slightly tense, you keep shaking his hand, laughing a bit more until you gasp.

“Holy shit! Captain America just taught me how to throw a punch!” And you really double over in a fit of laughter.

The odds of this happening, the likelihood that you would have ever met Captain America at this point in your life much less interacted with him, is so slim that you can’t believe your absolute luck.

Mid-laugh you get a look at Steve and find him a bit more relaxed, lips curved into a smile.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp, “I’m so sorry. I just, I’m so—thank you for being so nice. They tell you never to meet your heroes, but you’ve been great so far.”

Laughter subsiding, you finally release Steve’s hand, massaging your own as you cherish the memory of him holding it.

“I’m glad I haven’t disappointed.” Steve says, blushing but you’re pretty sure it’s just from having you gushing over him about being Captain America.

“Definitely not.” You chuckle again and shake your head. “Wow. Captain America.”

How had you not recognized him from those old photos you’d seen? He looks exactly the same now that you consider his face, just in color instead of black and white.

“What academy are you training at?” Steve asks, curious but you can see that he’s itching to ask something else.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. I’m…I’m trying to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. We’ll see how that goes. As you can see, I can’t even punch without help.” You chuckle at yourself and your lack of athletic ability.

Steve smiles at your laugh then his expression falls, and you know it’s coming, the real question he’d wanted to ask.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to tell the other cadets about me?” Steve wonders, an anxious hitch in his words that expose the oddly sensitive and fearful inner turmoil he’s feeling.

“No way.” You assure him, taking a step closer. “I’m keeping you all to myself.”

You chuckle again, the ludicrous idea of you actually possessing Steve Rogers in any way is unbearably hilarious. Look at him!

Steve’s expression softens, his worry fading as his smile returns. “Good. Thank you.”

“In exchange,” You begin, smiling at him innocently, the face of a deceptive angel. “Do you think maybe you could help me some more? I-I honestly really suck at all this fighting stuff and I’m not expecting to be a field agent at the end of the day. They’ll probably stick me in some office or comms room, but I still need to be able to pass my trials.”

Steve narrows his eyes at you, considering you.

“Please?” You beg, bobbing on your feet and then he smiles.

“Sure, kid.” He huffs a small laugh as you smile wide, your excitement making you almost dance before you turn to hug the punching bag because as much as you want to wrap your arms around Steve’s wide chest, he’s Captain America. You don’t want to embarrass yourself. “I’ll help you. On one condition.”

“Anything.” You chuckle, turning to look at him again, absolutely beaming.

“Let’s keep this little arrangement between us, okay? From everyone.” He asks.

Keeping Captain America as your trainer a secret? How hard can it be?

Hard. Things get very, very hard with Steve. The least of it being because you’re hopelessly in love with him.

It happened that night. That first night when he taught you to punch and after that you spiraled faster and harder. Falling more and more in love with him every single day. Now, you’re a mess of putty and affection and all you want is to love him but…he’s Steve Rogers. He’s Captain America.

He’s freedom and justice and truth and honor and kindness and loyalty and he proves it when he fights for New York. He proves it when he fights for the world.

You fall in love with him when he catches you to keep you from falling and when he gets annoyed with you because you struggle to hit your target.

You fall in love with him when he sits beside you and wraps a loose arm around your shoulders, comforting you because this is so hard and you’re so tired and you want to give up but he doesn’t let you.

You fall in love with him when he tells you old jokes that you’ve never heard before so that you’ll forget your worries and smile. He chuckles with you.

You fall in love with him when he brings you a stainless-steel water bottle with the Avengers A on it that matches the one he’s been using.

You fall in love with him when you hurt your ankle and he fusses, forcing you to sit despite your protests because your tests are only a few weeks out and you can’t take breaks because then you won’t pass!

You fall in love with him when he takes your shoe off to wrap up your ankle but then frowns when he sees the six Band-Aids you’ve placed over all your busted blisters, and the small bit of blood on your sock makes him hiss.

You fall in love with him because he takes you out to dinner even if it’s in a small hole in the wall restaurant where no one you know will see you.

You fall in love with him because he brings you a cupcake on your birthday with a single candle and waits as you struggle not to cry for you to blow it out.

You fall in love with him because Steve Rogers makes himself irresistible.

Because of Steve, you pass your trials.

You fall in love with him because he’s waiting in the alley outside of the academy, nearly bouncing with nervous energy as he waits with bated breath for you to tell him that you’ve passed. He picks you up. Hugging you tight. Twirling you once before putting you back on your feet.

You fall in love with him because he takes you to that restaurant again and he makes you feel like your success is his success and you hope that maybe while you’ve been falling for him, Steve has also been falling for you.

It’s a slim chance. Impossible really. But you hope.

You’re assigned to S.T.R.I.K.E. reporting to Agent Sitwell directly. You’re excited because it means that you’re with Steve. You’re going to work with him…but you didn’t think it through and it isn’t until you’re on mission number who the fuck knows, that you begin to see the hazards of working so close with the man you love but who doesn’t feel the same.

Sitwell has you watch Steve. “You’re his backup.” He says but it doesn’t sound like what he wants you to do is backup. It sounds wrong.

He has you reporting on everything Steve does on his missions but because it’s Steve and there’s nothing out of the ordinary to report. After two missions you get moved to comms and just as you’d assumed, you’re kept out of the fight but kept close for grunt work.

You get to know the team and they know you as the girl behind the monitor. Steve doesn’t look at you when you’re all in the debrief room or when you share the same elevator or even on the jet. Rumlow does. He greets you when you walk into the debrief room. He holds the elevator door for you—maybe he even beats Steve to it and that’s why Steve never does it? He smiles at you when you board the jet and you return his attentions without any agenda.

Your eyes are always on Steve anyway.

You’re almost sure that Natasha of all people will sense it. That she’ll just know that you and Steve aren’t simply coworkers and that there’s a friendship between you…but you’re on the jet as it flies over the Indian Ocean and nothing seems amiss.

Natasha is listening to Rumlow’s debrief without paying you any mind.

The Lemurian Star is hijacked and S.T.R.I.K.E. has been dispatched to take it back.

Sitwell is on it. You find this strange. So does Steve.

As they ready for their descent, you patch through to all of their earpieces, trackers set in place in case of accident. While you work, Natasha and Steve chat casually.

“Secure channel seven.” Steve says.

Speaking to you but…

“Seven secure.” Natasha affirms, before you can give him his assurance. “You do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead so, no, not really.” Steve jokes.

You smile, keep your head down so that no one will see. He’s told you that one before.

The pilot speaks, “Coming up on the drop zone, Cap.”

“You know, if you ask Kristen out-” Nat begins and your hands freeze over your keyboard, smile wiped clean off of your face as your body goes dangerously numb. “-from Statistics, she’d probably say yes.”

“That’s why I don’t ask.” Steve says more loudly as the ramp at the back of the jet begins to drop.

Does he mean that? He doesn’t know how you feel. He has no reason to lie. Maybe he really doesn’t want to be with anyone? He is always working.

“Too shy or too scared?” Nat asks, also at a higher volume.

“Too busy.” Steve says, matter of fact, then dives from the jet.

The mission goes through without too much trouble and you focus because you need to, but your mind has taken notice of the possibility that Steve might very well start dating and you don’t like it one bit.

After the mission, Rumlow asks you out. You say yes.

A few days later, at training, you tell Steve. Curious as to his own reaction when the tables are reversed. Not that he knows that hearing Nat had bothered you.

“Who?” He asks, breathing heavily as he lands another punch.

“Brock.” You repeat, licking your lips as you search for the smallest sign that this matters. That you matter. “Rumlow?”

“Oh.” Steve nods. “He’s…he’s dedicated.”

“Yeah.” You frown. “He is.”

Well, that didn’t give you much.

“Have you two gone out yet?” He asks, reaching up to scratch his forehead, avoiding your gaze in favor of cracking his neck and stretching his arms.

“Mm-hmm. Night before last. He took me out to dinner and then we went back to his place.” You explain, trying to remember the night with anything but regret. But you’d needed to get some, and Brock had offered. He hadn’t been so bad.

He’s nice for the most part. His politeness only a little forced. Nothing to Steve…but he asked you out.

Unfortunately, fucking Brock Rumlow isn’t exactly the highlight of your dating career and he’d been an impatient lover. It hadn’t been good; despite his size and the way his hands seem to know what to do, he’d finished before you and you hadn’t had your turn. You didn’t get it either.

Your itch still hasn’t been scratched. Damn it.

“You went back to his place?” Steve asks, stopping his neck cracking to look at you properly.

You nod, chewing on your lip, fiercely trying not to look at Steve in his thermal wear. It hugs his muscles, skintight. Delicious. “He asked me out again but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not feeling it.” You admit, pushing the itch away successfully.

“Then don’t go out with him. I mean…if you’re not feeling it, why should you?” Steve offers, quickly averting his gaze to the bag he’d been pummeling only to hit it harder.

Things change out of the blue. Director Fury is attacked. Steve is chased out of S.H.I.E.L.D. and you’re so confused and torn, and you know that Steve is a good man so how can anything S.H.I.E.L.D. says be true?

Steve and Nat disappear and you’re an anxious mess. No one looks twice at you because you’re no one. Steve had never spoken to you in front of the team other than to give you orders so they have no reason to suspect you. You’re the girl behind the monitor. Nothing more.

You hate to admit to yourself that they’re right to ignore you. Steve hasn’t contacted you since his escape and you’re beginning to realize that maybe this friendship had all just been in your head.

Maybe all you’ve been this entire time is a workout buddy?

With a more flexible schedule, you’re finally able to go to the gym during the day. That’s where you are when your phone suddenly rings. The musk of your place…yours and Steve’s…is comforting.

You sit on a wooden bench, the phone buzzing in your hand as an unknown number flashes up at you.

Something tells you to answer it, like the call of destiny, and you slide your thumb along the bottom, wiping at the sweat on your forehead with your forearm.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“S-?!” You drop your voice down to a harsh whisper, hesitating before you spring to your feet, bag grabbed as you worm your way into the deepest, most secluded room of the gym leaving the din of the daytime regulars behind. You find a storage cupboard full of sweat wreaking mats and cleaning supplies, shut the door, and lock it.

“Is this line secure?” He asks, deep voice shaking as if he’s in pain.

“Steve, what-?”

“I need your help.” He interrupts, and he explains what’s happened. Hydra in S.H.I.E.L.D. Nat’s unconscious. They’re after him. This you already knew.

“What can I do?” You ask, desperate to help. Worried to the brim.

“I need an address.” He says. “In Washington. Man named Sam Wilson.”

“Sam Wilson?” You delve into your bag and pull out your tablet, swiping your thumb along the reader before you’re on your own VPN searching for what Steve needs. “I found it!”

You give him the address and feel a wave of relief to have assisted him in this small way.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.” He sounds exhausted.

“Don’t be stupid, Steve.” You hesitate. “And…please, be careful. If something were to happen to you I…”

“I’ll be alright. It might be best if you stayed off the grid. Keep out of sight.” He suggests, sounding genuine, as if he might really truly care.

Still, you can’t help but scoff. “What for? I’m the last person they’re going to suspect. You’ve been very thorough in ignoring me at work.”

The seconds of silence that follow feel heavy. Scary.

“Y/N…” His voice full of trepidation, of remorse.

It had all come out of nowhere. This too had surprised you. One day you’d been working quietly at your workstation when Nat and Steve had stopped by to drop off their reports with you.

They’re always perfect and you rarely if ever need to correct anything on them, but they do it because it’s protocol.

~~~~~

Nat asks Steve about the nurse in his building and Steve’s cheeks flush. His eyes meet yours and you turn away quickly before he can see the agony ripping through you, fingers fumbling on your keyboard as you key in their report numbers.

Turns out the nurse is not a nurse. Agent 13. Sharon Carter. Skilled combatant. Full-fledged spy.

How can you, Agent 34, compare?

Steve had even asked her out for coffee…

“I don’t need that right now.” Steve had quickly said to Nat, eyes scanning the area. Fury had just been attacked and he’s on edge. “Thank you, Agent thirty-four.”

Nat scoffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Steve asks, exasperated and irritable.

“She has a name.” Nat says, gesturing at you as they wait for their confirmation page.

“I know her name.” Steve assures her, sounding more defensive than normal.

“Hey…” Nat says slowly, turning to give you a long hard look. “Why don’t you ask her out? She’s already seen you in a bad mood. No fear that she’s going to run because of that.”

Steve looks at you, stealing quick sidelong glances at you as you shift in your seat, heart pounding, papers printing.

It gets so awkward that the air around you three begins to change. It’s like someone’s filled the room with fog as thick as Jell-O and you can’t move, much less breathe.

“Very funny.” Steve suddenly says, leaning against the higher platform of your desk with his elbow, “She’s not my type.”

Can you die from figurative pain? The knife Steve just sunk into your gut he twists as he turns to you and those storm blue eyes shimmer in the too white fluorescent light.

“No offense.” He offers.

“No offense?!” Nat asks, slapping his arm.

You plaster on a pained smile, wishing you could hide this better, but you shake your head at him, pretending as if you don’t see him almost every day at the gym. Pretending that he hadn’t bought you a cupcake on your birthday or fussed when he saw how you’d been walking around with open wounds on your feet.

Steve continues to stare at you, face stoic, eyes shifting nervously from your hands as you wait for the stupid papers to print back up to your own poorly guarded expression.

“Here.” You snatch the papers as they slide out of the printer and place them by his hand. “I’ll file these for you.”

“Thanks.” Nat tells you; her phone goes off. She pulls it out of her pocket and reaches over to grab Steve’s elbow. “Fury’s in surgery. We gotta go.”

She turns and leaves with Steve hesitating for a moment as you avoid looking at him, eyes glued to your computer screen, then he’s gone.

~~~~~

That was the last time you saw him.

“Do you like Sharon?” It’s a stupid thing to ask in such a dire situation. He’s busy. He’s running for his life and you’re worried about who he’s shacking up with? “Never mind. Forget I asked that. This isn’t the time. Steve, they’re watching all of the safe houses and all of the old facilities, so make sure you get to this Sam’s place and you lay low for a while.”

“I wish you’d get outta there.” Steve frets.

“Trust me. You’re gonna want a man on the inside.”

“Keep your phone with you. Just in case.” In case he wants to get a hold of you? “Stay safe, Y/N.”

“You too.”

The next time you see Steve he’s on the mend and you’re out of a job.

This is the first time you tell Steve goodbye.

He leaves you to go search for a friend…no, he doesn’t leave you. He’d have to be with you in order to leave you. And before he goes you never get the chance to ask him about Sharon.

Thanks to your resume and Steve’s relentless training, you’re hired by the C.I.A. and surprise, surprise, you’re given desk duty.

You find a sense of normalcy here at the C.I.A. Monitoring foreign affiliates and keeping your ear to the ground, it’s a nine to five gig and it gives you the life you thought you’d always wanted.

Only one thing is missing.

Another dull afternoon. Another report. Another bunch of nothing that threatens to drive you insane.

You slump back into your chair, stretching your arms overhead when your cell phone begins to buzz, skidding across your desk in short trembling intervals. It’s laying faceup and the Unknown Number that flashes across it reminds you of the call in the gym.

You don’t know why you think it might be him. He hasn’t called you in years, and yet here is your heart, beating wildly against your ribcage.

With a hard swallow, you answer your cell and know instantly that it isn’t him. When the voice that speaks is female, your heart fully falls into the pit of your stomach.

For a while you’d thought you were getting over Steve. But here you are, in agony all over again.

“Y/N?” The voice is hushed, urgent, but sweet.

“Sharon?” You hear this voice weekly. As part of the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, she’s often your liaison with the European branch.

“Hey, do you remember that one time we went drinking in Wyoming and you got so drunk that you slept with the bartender?” Sharon laughs, a perfect fake.

“Oh, yeah.” You lie, getting up and making your way to the door. “And you got locked out of our room because I had the key, so you had to sneak in and found the bartender asleep in the tub?”

“Yeah. That was so much fun. We should do that again some time.”

“Yeah.” You agree, moving for the nearest utility closet and turn into it at the very last second. Quickly you reach into your black pants pocket and pull out a small silver cube. It shines with a soft blue light and you know that you shouldn’t have kept any Hydra tech but this one was just so useful!

You place the square on the floor and press the top down. It clicks and then beeps as the radio wave scrambler powers on.

“Okay. We’re good.” You tell her. “What’s going on?”

You and Sharon have never shared drinks much less traveled together. Not that there was anything wrong with her. In fact, Sharon was downright admirable.

Not only was she the sweetest, nicest, most intelligent person in the organization but she’s also one hell of a shot. Weapons training hadn’t been your best subject in the academy, but you’d done well enough to pass.

“I’m with Steve.” She states and just like that you hate her again.

What is it about Sharon? What? Why Sharon? Why not you?

You hate the way it makes you feel. The yearning. The desperate feeling of loneliness as all of those soft moments with Steve in the gym replay in your mind’s eye as clearly as if they had happened yesterday and not two years ago.

He’d smiled at you so often, touched your shoulders and hips—of course he’d been positioning you but even when the two of you had been joking and laughing, he’d reached out and grabbed your arm or your shoulder.

“H-How is he?” You wish you were there. You wish you could see him too. You miss him so much.

“Not great. He’s looking for Bucky Barnes.” She explains and your mind is flooded with news coverage of the bombing in Vienna.

“He’s going after him to save him.” You realize.

Steve had never talked about Bucky or his past all that much. Most of what you know, you learned through reading. You don’t need him to tell you about Bucky to know that he’s important.

“Yes. There’s a file that we’ve kept under wraps. Known sightings. Location possibilities. Hideouts. And all of the new tips coming in. I need you to get me that file, Y/N.” Sharon’s voice drops lower. “I can’t talk long. You’ll find it on the seventh floor. Watch your back. Call me when you have it.”

The line goes dead and you’re not surprised that Sharon somehow knows that you’ll do whatever you can to get that file, to get those tips.

It’s easier than you thought. You go in under the pretense of helping them field calls. They welcome the help.

It’s a lot of noise. A lot of crazies and paranoid people calling with ridiculous or impossible tips. Although getting the information you need is easy, it takes about an hour.

When you have it, you pass it along to Sharon.

“Sharon? Is Steve okay?” You wish you could be there, see the expression on his face.

If there’s one thing you know, it’s how to know if Steve is really alright or not.

You’ve seen him struggle through his rage. Struggle to pull himself out of the past and into the present. You know what he looks like when it’s all too much and the smile that can come afterwards. You’ve helped him find that smile before.

“He will be.” She tells you. “Thanks, Y/N. This means a lot to me.”

To her? Why does it sound like she likes him? How can you still be this into him after so long?!

“Sure, but Sharon-” The line goes dead again. “Fuck!”

You look at it, your hand curled around the sleek phone eyes prickling at the corners and your chest hollower than you’ve felt it in a long time. Heartbreak feels like knives scraping along the bones of your chest leaving shards and caustic bone dust.

You’ve inhaled it and the pain is so precise that it takes your breath away, making you gasp and gape like a fish out of water.

For Steve, everything goes to shit.

You monitor everything and wait with bated breath as he fights his friends. The Avengers fight each other, torn apart by the accords first and Bucky second.

From this side of things, it looks so bad. Very bad. But you know that if Steve is doing this, if he’s planting himself in front of Bucky despite all the laws he’s breaking, there must be a reason. Steve doesn’t do anything without a reason.

The last you hear he’s run off from Germany. After he and the Avengers destroy an airport, he and Bucky escape, assisted by Nat. Tony pursues. Then there’s excited whispers as a new truth is passed around.

Helmut Zemo. It’s a name that echoes around you off the lips of other agents.

Bucky Barnes, framed. Avengers arrested anyway. Wrongly imprisoned, most think. But the accords were violated, others say. The world is split.

They’re heroes. But they’re scary.

You bury your face in your hands, lean your elbows against your desk, wanting nothing more than to know that Steve’s okay.

Your phone buzzes. Absentmindedly, you reach for it and answer, too worried to care who’s calling.

“Y/N?”

You shoot to your feet, heart in your throat, skin erupting into goosebumps.

“S-” Shit! “Hold on.”

You make a beeline for that utility closet, making no attempt to be sneaky about hiding in there this time.

Placing down your scrambler, you wait for the lights to indicate that it’s on before you speak again.

“Steve?” You ask breathless.

“Hey.” And his voice rises and falls, a sound of relief at the sound of your voice? No. But you are certainly happy to hear him.

“Hey, yourself, jerk. You’re a fugitive.” You tell him.

He huffs a laugh and you can almost see that beautiful half smile.

“Couldn’t have dreamt this mess up in our gym days, huh?” He sounds like he’s smiling.

You shut your eyes, fighting the tears that burn, the ache in your chest strong and demanding.

“Where are you?” You gasp.

“…Wakanda.”

You wait, thinking, your mind racing because he’s not just calling. He’s never just calling.

“What do you need?” You lean back against the door, pushing as much of the pining you’re feeling away so that you can focus on what Steve will no doubt need.

“It’s dangerous.” He warns.

“Steve…”

“I need you to break onto the Avengers Compound.”

“Hey!” You freeze, halfway to the jet, adrenaline racing.

So close. You’re so close! It’s right there. Maybe you can make a run for it? You suck as a spy!

“Don’t even try it.” The familiar voice warns. “Hey, I know you.”

Slowly you turn, face slightly shamed. Natasha looks as beautiful as she did two years ago. Her hair is different. A little more free-flowing.

“Agent 34…Y/N, right? What are you doing here? You don’t have clearance for this facility.” The corner of her lip curves up in a snarky smile. She’s all seduction and fun but there’s a weight on her shoulders that darkens her eyes.

“I…” You hesitate, but you can trust Natasha. You know that.

“You’re here for him, aren’t you?” Her smile falls, brow drawn together in a searching look of concern.

“Yes.”

She looks behind her, contemplating her options it looks like. With a part of her lips and a deep sigh of decision she moves for the jet.

“They won’t miss it.” She says, teasing smirk back in place. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

The jet is fast. You miss travelling in them. This one’s better than the ones you’d been on in your S.T.R.I.K.E. days. It’s sleeker and quieter.

“So, you and Rogers…” Nat begins, swiveling in the pilot’s chair to face you where you sit a few feet from her. “There’s more there, right?”

You swallow hard, the painful feeling of rejection flooding back only it’s a ghost and it doesn’t hurt as much as it did once.

“She’s not my type.” Steve’s voice echoes in your head. He’d said it so long ago, but it lingers, saved away because it had broken your heart to hear it.

“Not what you’re thinking.” You tell her, sitting up too straight from nerves. “Steve trained me. We met at his gym. My gym, when I was training at the academy. We…we were workout buddies, I guess.”

You sound unsure and Nat quirks a brow at you, hearing the uncertainty. “It sounds like more.”

Sitting in silence for a moment, you ponder what it sounds like and she’s right, it had been more. For you.

“It was. For me. Not for Steve.” You smile at her, melancholic and exhausted.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell him?” She wonders, brow furrowed again.

“I-” Everything until that day in the jet when Nat had told him to ask out the girl from Statistics had made you think that you and Steve might be more.

It had all felt like it was moving in that direction. Until it wasn’t. And you weren’t his type.

“I didn’t think I had to. And then I wasn’t his type so…” You shrug, finding her jade green eyes piercing. She can see right through you.

When you pick up Steve, he hugs you. No hesitation. He pulls you in for a brief squeeze and your heart stammers and stutters before it finds its rhythm once again.

“It’s so good to see you.” He smiles, the very faint bloom of an old bruise is on his right cheekbone. You touch it and he lets you.

“This was worse.” You state.

“Yeah.”

“Where are we going?” Nat asks, turning away from the two of you to look at the nav.

Steve moves around you as you shut the back ramp.

“Here.” He tells her, an input of coordinates placed into the nav. “We’ll stop off in London and send Y/N home.”

“What?” You demand, shocked by your dismissal.

“You can’t come.” Steve tells you.

“Like hell I can’t. I’m already here. I stole the jet!” You argue, moving towards them.

“Technically I stole it. You’re just along for the ride.” Nat argues, turning to give you a smile.

“I’m not going to turn you into a criminal too.” He tells you, reaching out to grab your right shoulder.

“Steve…”

“I’m gonna need an inside woman anyway.” Nat cuts in. “If you’re willing to help us out?”

The argument to stay beside Steve now that you’re once again in his intoxicating presence begins to dull in comparison to your need to help. If you can offer them any kind of assistance, isn’t it your duty to do it?

“What do you need me to do?” You wonder, seduced by the promise of a mission.

You’ve sat behind a desk for too many years. You’ll need to train hard again, and it’ll suck without your gym buddy, but you can do it. For Steve. For Nat.

Nat smiles, Steve relaxes.

They drop you off on an abandoned carpark. The structure is crumbling and chipped, dusted cement flying up into the air as the jet lands. It’s close enough to the heart of the city that you can easily find a cab but secluded enough that their presence doesn’t raise an alarm.

Both Nat and Steve walk you down the ramp, stopping when their feet hit pavement.

The night is almost over and the in an hour the sun will begin to rise.

Steve’s second goodbye looms over you and it saps you of all previous determination to help them from a distance.

“So, I just go back to the Compound in three days and they’ll have me on file?” You keep your eyes on Nat because the pain of looking at Steve is too great.

“Yep. Just go to the front desk and tell them it’s your first day and they’ll get you upstairs. I’m not sure what Tony will have you doing but they’re going to need to fill our vacancies. I’m sure he’ll find use for you.” She nods.

“Okay.” You lick your lips, hesitating, biting into the soft flesh of your lower lip to give you the courage to look at Steve again and after only a few hours of sitting beside him, you have to tell him goodbye once more.

When you look at him, he’s got his eyes on the ground.

“Why did you have to wait until you were on the run to call me?” You ask him, hating him just a little bit but not enough to matter.

Your tone brings his eyes up and his storm blues search for reproach.

“I’ll be inside.” Nat tells him, then heads back up.

“I’m sorry, I know that I should have-” He begins, looking genuinely apologetic.

“You never answered my question.” You cut in, moving so that only a foot of space stands between the two of you.

“What question?”

“Do you like Sharon?” It almost kills you to repeat the question. All the oxygen in the world seems to have vanished as you see the confusion mar Steve’s handsome face.

Even after two years, you’re afraid of his answer.

“What? I-”

And because you know that if you don’t take the chance to tell him now, to make him see, you’ll never get this chance again. Whatever it is he has with Sharon, whether it’s real or fleeting or if it’s something that’s been going on for a long time—you should feel bad about doing it but you don’t because he was yours first you just hadn’t had the guts to tell him so—you push all your guilt away, fist the collar of his black jacket and pull him down until your lips meet his.

You feel him pull back for a split second, the unexpectedness of your kiss surprises him but then his lips pucker back, but only just. It’s as if he’s still uncertain as to whether it should be happening. Large tentative hands slide along your hips, strong fingers pressing into the womanly soft barely maintained muscle.

The kiss ends quickly. It’s burning and has your heart pounding but it’s meek. He’s not sure if he should be kissing you and still, he pulls back to look into your face.

“Why-?”

“Because you said I wasn’t your type. And you had asked Sharon out for coffee so I…I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to lose your friendship and I ended up losing it anyway.” You lament. “Things are different now. You’re on the run and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, so I just wanted to—I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you. I’ve been dreaming about it since the day I met you.”

You have nothing else to lose. Why not go all in?

“I love you, Steve.” You let that stand, wallowing in his stunned silence as the jet behind him whirs to life.

“Steve, we gotta go.” Nat calls back, sounding sorry.

“It’s okay if you don’t love me. I just…I needed you to know. Maybe now that you know, I can move on?” You shrug and offer a small smile.

Steve frowns, hesitating once again before he leans down to kiss you again, lips open, the softest caress of his tongue before he’s pulling your bottom lip as he ends the kiss. Too quick. Too fast.

There’s no time.

“I wish you’d said something ages ago.” He tells you.

“You should have said something when I told you about Rumlow.” You counter.

He makes a face, looking of your heard as he licks his lips. He leans back down to meet your gaze. “Did you really sleep with that guy?”

“Yes.” You admit. “He came before I did and then fell asleep.”

Steve growls, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Did you and Sharon-?” You begin.

“I kissed her.” Steve admits.

It hurts and you tear your eyes down to his chest. You have nothing to say however, you slept with Rumlow.

“There was nothing there, kid.” Steve assures you, trying to get you to look at him again. “I mean there was something but…it wasn’t this.”

You still can’t look at him.

“It wasn’t us.” He clarifies.

Chest warming, your heart begins to flutter, stomach all a-tumble as you meet those bright storm blue eyes of his.

“We’re both stupid.” You tell him.

“Steve…” Nat repeats, a little firmer.

“I have to go.” He says forlornly. “I don’t know if I’ll-”

“No, Steve. Just…stay safe. Keep moving. Don’t stop. No matter what happens, you cannot let them catch you. We’ll figure things out.” You know that it’s very possible that this, tonight, is all you’ll ever have.

He could be on the run for the rest of his life or he might fall in love with Nat? Or someone else on his journey to outrun the law. He could very well change his name and settle down somewhere with some French woman in some cottage in the countryside and have kids and never think about you again.

“I’m sorry.” He says, reaching up to trace the shape of your cheekbone.

“Me too.” You sigh, rubbing slow circles along the hard planes of his chest. “Go.”

He leans down one last time and this time you’re both on the same page.

He kisses you with feeling, lips parting, tongue confidently tasting you as you kiss him back, hands worming their way into his sunshine hair.

It’s another quick kiss. Too fast. Over too quickly. He presses his forehead to your own, lingering there for a moment too short.

“Please be safe.” You beg him.

He pulls away, hurrying up the ramp before turning to wave at you as the jet lifts off and disappears into the expanse of velvet black. That is Steve’s second goodbye.

When you come to, the world is different.

You can feel it in the air. Too quiet. The world has gone too quiet.

The compound is almost completely silent. You can hear screaming outside but you’re not sure why.

As you stumble for the door, you’ve been sleeping in Steve’s room because Tony had told you that this is your home now and that Captain No Shame doesn’t deserve a room so you should take it, you stop by the mirror and look at the bright red pinprick on the side of your neck.

You hiss, sucking in air as you stare at the injection site.

“Fucking, Nat.”

~~~~~

“Hey, there stranger.” She greets you with ease, all ethereal beauty with pale blonde tresses and the same if not sharper glass edges. Her on-the-run lifestyle has only enhanced Nat’s naturally assertive demeanor, but she looks relaxed in your doorway.

“Nat!” You’re up in an instant, gliding towards her with your arms wide open. She smiles fondly and greets you with a hug.

“Hey, Y/N.” She greets lovingly. “How’ve you been?”

“Me?” You chuckle. “How are you? Where’s-?”

“He’s coming. Running late.” She nods as you pull back and then gestures at your desk. “What are you working on?”

“Oh.” You turn back to your desk and hurry to pull the charts open, spreading them out on the sleek wooden desk.

You bite your lip, trying to focus on what you’d just been so invested in, but knowing that Steve is coming…after years of waiting of wanting and loving from a distance with only a handful of phone calls to keep you going…

“I…I’m getting these weird readings. Or Bruce’s equipment was. Tony and I have been mapping the spikes in energy and we’re not exactly sure what they mean but they’re getting close.” You explain, and as you do you find yourself able to focus.

“Tony, he’s-?”

“Gone.” You sigh. “He and Pepper went jogging with Happy in the morning but…then that thing…”

“He didn’t send any distress calls?” Nat wonders.

“No. Pepper said that he was…was on that ship.” Your voice gets tight, worry and grief because what if he never comes back?

“Tony’s a fighter.” Nat’s hand finds its way onto the back of your right shoulder. “He’ll be back in no time.”

You smile at her words, staring at your charts. “Yeah.”

Because you can’t help it, your mind drifts back to Steve.

“Nat, when you said he was on his way-?” You gasp, Nat’s other hand shooting up to your neck as a piercing pinch stings your neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. We both know you and you’ll never stay behind willingly.” She explains, her brow drawn close as she frowns at her own actions.

“N-Nat…” You whisper, trying to grab her wrist but you’re already so weak.

You lean into her.

“S-Steve…” You mutter.

“He wants you safe.” Nat explains, just as your vision blacks out.

~~~~~

It takes you too long to make your way down to the first floor of the Compound. People are still rushing about, panicked looks on their faces. Some of them are crying or huddled in corners of the large lobby.

One girl is simply standing, staring out at the front lawn.

There are too few people. That you know.

Where is everyone?

“Hey.” You call to the girl standing by the window. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“They disappeared. They…they just fell…like dust. Like paper…they’re gone.”

“What do you mean they’re gone?” You demand, staring around at the panic before you move around her to plant yourself in front of her. “Hey, what do you mean?”

She looks at you, almost as if she’s seeing you for the first time. Her eyes spill over with tears as she begins to smile then she suddenly realizes something. “I…I need to call my mom.”

She hurries off, and you move outside, staring across the lawn at strange patches of dark ash. There’s so many of them.

As you turn to look back inside, you see the same strange patches around the floor inside the lobby. At the receptionist’s desk, there’s a smattering of the same ash on part of the floor but then the rest is over the desk.

Fear turns your ice into lead. You fist your pockets for your phone, breathing faster and faster until you’re sobbing as you realize that the patches of ash were people. All you can think about is Steve. Nat. Vision. Rhodey.

When you finally manage to pull it out, you dial Steve’s number and wait as the phone rings and rings and rings.

Night comes. People leave the compound. It’s you and your panic and you don’t know how to fly the jet so you can’t take one to Wakanda because you know now that’s where they went.

You fall to pieces on the lawn. Like the ash that surrounds you, you very nearly crumble into nothing as you wait and wait and know that the longer you wait and hear nothing that it’s more and more likely that Steve is gone. Steve has vanished like the rest of these poor souls.

You’re curled up on the ground, clinging to the sanity in you that remains, when the hum of the jet overhead pulls you up.

You jump to your feet, searching the black for the lights, the tiny twinkles of hazards in the night.

When you spot it, your body freezes and you follow its descent with wary eyes. You’re too scared to hope. Too fragile to think that he’s in there only to find out that he’s not.

The ramp slowly descends and he moves towards you, bearded and sweaty and his old uniform is in near tatters and discolored but there’s pink on his cheeks despite the white of his lips and his hair is grimy but long and he looks so perfect that your legs give out on you.

You fall to the ground with relief and you’re sobbing harder than before as Steve runs towards you.

“You’re still here.” He gasps, his voice strained as if he were trying not to fall to pieces like you have.

You know why. The team, what’s left—Nat, Rhodey, Bruce, Thor?, a raccoon?—need him. They need Captain America right now, more than they need Steve Rogers. But as he looks down at you, when you meet his gaze full of relief and gratitude, you know that it’s Steve looking down at you.

“I thought you were gone.” You cry, gasping as you reach up to cling to him.

He wraps you up, hold you tight, and kisses your head as he helps you to your feet.

The next few days pass in a blur of discovery. So many people are gone. The count is endless.

Fury is gone. Maria, who you’d only met a handful of times during your time at S.H.I.E.L.D. is also gone. Pepper comes to stay on the compound, missing Tony so much it breaks her heart every time she looks at his armor.

You try to comfort her as best as you can but you know that until she knows for certain where he is, if he made it, or if he’s gone…nothing will help.

Bruce, Nat, and Steve find a beeper. They don’t know what it does, but Fury had it and it’s sending a signal, so they keep a close eye on it.

The next day it shuts off. Then she shows up. Carol. She brings back Tony and you’re crying again. You’re a mess. Pepper is ecstatic even thought Tony looks like he’s dying.

Carol is strange, but kind mostly. Powerful. You can feel it radiating off her.

Together with Carol they find the guy responsible for the Snap. Thanos.

You want to go with them. You get dressed in your uniform, lightweight deep plum Kevlar, a vest to match. Guns already holstered at your hips.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, moving to you.

“I’m coming with you.” You stand up.

“No.” He says gently, “Kid…I…”

He takes hold of your biceps and slowly pushes you back down to sit on the end of his bed. He kneels in front of you, settling between your knees. His hands trace the constricted sinew of your arms, squeezing a few times in his need to feel you.

“I need you to stay.” His eyes are imploringly cruel.

“I’m not leaving your side again, Steve.” You argue, the devastation from before beginning to take hold.

“And I can’t take you out there knowing that something might go wrong. You’re too important, Y/N.” He reaches up, cupping the sides of your face as his thumb traces the soft plush of your lips. “I need to know that you’re here, waiting for me. If I have that then I know that I can concentrate on getting back here. To you. To us.”

“Steve…” You beg, knowing that he can’t stay.

It’s not even a question you’re tempted to ask. He must go. You want to go with him.

“When I come back, we’ll really do this. Us. I’m ready for you, kid. Finally.” He smiles, trying to ease the tension but your face is a grimace of heartache. How many times will Steve Rogers tell you goodbye?

“I can’t lose you.” You whisper, desperate to keep from crying.

“You won’t.” He promises. “We’ll get the stones from him, we’ll get everyone back. I’ll come home and you and I…we’ll move out. We’ll get a little apartment and—”

For some reason he hesitates, swallowing hard while bringing his hands down to the soft flesh of your thighs. He squeezes them, sliding his thumbs closer and closer to your core.

“I wanna make love to you and make you mine.” He whispers shyly.

Suddenly nervous but oh, so excited, you slide closer to him.

“Do it now.” You plead, hoping that maybe it’ll keep him here. Keep him home. “Fuck me, Steve. Love me. I want you.”

You’re not playing fair and you don’t care. He also seems to know that you’re highly aware of how cruel this is of you because he huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he slides those large hands back along your hips to rest on your bum.

“I should have known when you coerced me into training you that you’d try and do it again at some point.”

“I had to try.” You shrug.

“Why did it have to take so long for us to get here?” He asks, not really asking you, just wondering.

“Because you’re an idiot.” You remind him. “And I didn’t think you’d want me.”

“I want you.” He assures you, sending your heart into a barrage of flutters, stomach wheeling. “Trust me. But I have to go.”

You lean forward, burying your face against his shoulder.

“And I need you to stay.” He finishes, and you’ll do it. For him. Because he’s so much more broken than he’s let anyone see. Even you.

“Fine.” You pull back. “But hurry back to me, Steve. Because I’ve been waiting almost ten years to have you inside me.”

His cheeks flame but his eyes darken. He leans into you, catching your lips in a searing kiss.

You reach for his waist, fingers knocking into the tools on his belt. One falls, clinks and clatters on the floor.

Pulling back, both of you look down at the small round metallic item.

“What’s that?”

“My compass.” He tells you, reaching down to grab it.

“Can I see it?” You ask him, curious because of the clear shade of age bronzing the metal.

Steve quickly slides it into his pocket. “When I come back, I’ll show it to you.”

“It looks old.”

“It is.” He states simply but rises, pulling you to your feet with him.

“Keep an eye on Tony.” He tells you when you’ve reached the front lawn, the rest of the team already aboard the Benatar.

“Of course.” You nod, giving him a smile instead of the tears you really want to shed.

He leans in towards you one last time, nose to nose, eyes shut. “I love you.”

Just like that, you want to chain him to a chair and keep him here where he can repeat those three words over and over until you die of old age.

“I love you.” You gasp. “So much.”

He pulls away, gives you that signature half smile of his, and for the third time, Steve tells you goodbye.

~~~~~

They come home empty handed. Defeated. Broken. Thor disappears shortly after they come home. Tony and Pepper leave. Bruce does too.

Nat, Carol, Nebula, Rhodey, and Rocket start having meetings, discussing the problems the world is facing. They’ve accepted the truth…no one is coming back.

They’re gone.

Forever.

Steve walks into your shared room. He stops in the doorway, stares at you as you wait for it to hit him. For him to give way and finally shed the weight on his shoulders.

He meets your eyes.

“Steve?”

He smiles, holds his hand out for you, and nods towards the hallway.

“Come on, baby. I need some air.”

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[hollerace]

Mrs. Wahlstrom--Feb 5, 2021

How do you get into a fight the first time you see someone? When you’re the ripe old age of six? That’s the way it happened with Lloyd Tichey and me. We had just moved in to Midfield Avenue. I saw a kid across the street, playing between the two garages that took up the block. I crossed the street to inspect and got pelted with a clod of dirt for my trouble. I found a hiding spot and armed myself. After a brief fusillade, I poked my head out; so did Lloyd, who said, “My mom’s got iced tea.” Within first sips, our friendship was cemented. Lloyd was younger than I, not by much. He was a bit taller (who wasn't?) and better at sports and games. The surrounding streets were our arena, with plenty of kids and fewer cars. Were moms really allowed to drive? Not in our neighborhood. It didn’t take us long to confront a common enemy. Mrs. Wahlstrom lived next to me and anointed herself the personal enemy of kids having fun. She appeared regularly in attempts to quelch our enjoyment. Some of the games could attain high volume levels, particularly kickball. The sport was similar to baseball. An inflated ball would be rolled to the “batter.” You can figure out the rest. Four bases, hits, runs, enjoyment. Wacky Wahlstrom, as we called her, used her porch as her pulpit. Fortunately for us, she was a native Swedish (we guessed) speaker. Diatribes, accompanied by boney, croney finger-points, began with, “You keeds,” followed by screechy, unintelligible syllables, accented with various avian screeches, hoots and gabbling. Since she was a grownup, we didn’t sass her back, nor did we listen to her admonitions. Occasionally, a ball would find its way onto her porch. The nearest kid would race up there to retrieve the precious piece before she could confiscate it. Lloyd Tichey (pronounced “Ticky”) feared her least. He would march right up to Mrs. Wahlstrom and face her down until she surrendered whatever she had just nicked from us. One time, during a game break, I opined, “I wonder if there was ever a Mister Wahlstrom?” Several theories ensued. Lloyd’s stance was, “There was a guy, once. He musta killed himself.” We howled. Lloyd had an older brother, Barry, who was in my grade. He was quiet, virtually tacit, forever riding his bike down to Birch Creek to fish. An even older brother (Jimmy, I think) lived elsewhere. He was wild-eyed with bushy uneven hair and given to loud forms of addressing anyone. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, TIMMY?” he would shriek as he raced from his car to the house. I never knew how to answer him. Mr. Tichey was a dapper, tanned, mustachioed man who travelled for work. His wife always looked furrowed; she seemed to worry a weathered washcloth in her hands as she walked about the neighborhood. She was followed everywhere by Baby Myra, a rotund little girl whose face needed constant swipes by her mom’s accessory. Their house smelled of cabbage. All the kids looked to Lloyd for leadership. He was a skilled organizer of games--a natural arbiter. If there was ever a problem, Lloyd seemed to rule. For a time, Dark Mark Longuiel, who lived down by The Field, started hanging around our street. He readily disagreed with anyone, and always seemed champing for a dispute. He even got mad at Ellen Botsford, who was far and away the prettiest girl who played with us. (Yes, we needed no Title IX; we just naturally went co-ed.). Lloyd Tichey got in his face. Harsh words, no blows, no Mark. As we grew, street play lost its popularity. We rarely saw Mrs. Wahlstrom. Once, when she was inching her ancient DeSoto down the driveway at a glacier’s pace, little Martin Botsford yelled, “Hey, Wacky Wahlstrom!” Lloyd immediately shut him down. “Leave her be,” he said sharply. Little Martin was already growing into quite the pain. But the little old lady seemed to fade into her dun, once-burgundy house. “She must have eighty Wiffle Balls in there,” remarked Lloyd one time. He remained an untitled leader in the ‘hood, but I was his consigliere, so to speak. Lloyd would ask me Big Questions. Many of these were about the aforementioned Ellen Botsford.

We were approaching the age where kickball dimmed in intergender activities. Most summer evenings, we played a game of Chase. This was a sort of an offshoot of the classic pastime, but much more hiding was effected as opposed to any seeking. I was just emerging from one of my favorite lairs, behind Crabby Creiner’s shed. I just happened to spy Lloyd Tichey and Ellen Botsford sneaking out of Muldoon’s lot, which provided excellent leafy cover. They were holding hands.

Wait! What? Suddenly, the rules of every game changed. Such manual interlocking was a brave, new world to a pre-shaving Catholic boy, at once exciting and terrifying. But Lloyd and Ellen? No way! No wonder all the questions.

I guess I liked some girls. There was a brief crush on Lisa Longborg, who was our eighth-grade lunch monitor. A veritable amazon at five-seven, she would camp at Sister’s desk while we ate on days too wet for recess. I would invent reasons to approach the desk while she sat there, imperious over her bologna-on-Wonder (pencil-sharpening was a good one), managing to sneak glances at her ever-burgeoning mammarial development. I wasn’t the only boy to attempt this ruse.

There was also the exotic, raven-tressed Ann Marie Pandolfo, whose glamour faded for me when she ironed a Paul Anka image on the back of her coat. This also garnered the disapproval of The Good Sisters.

I barely had the chance to recover from this tectonic shift in my life-views when another tremor hit. Lloyd announced that his family was moving up to Northfield, a suburb some ten miles north of town.

It seems Mr. Tichey had earned some sort of promotion at work, enabling his brood to improve their lifestyles. I was forlorn at first, then resigned.

The school year was bearable (Lloyd went to the public school), but that first summer loomed dusty, empty and stifling. There was the LAG (Lark Avenue Gang) for fun, just a couple of blocks away. Games of Chase still took place. Again I hid alone, noticing that more and more couples were pairing off.

My father even drove me up to Northford once to visit. The streets had no sidewalks or phone poles, with names like Chipshot Road or Rolling Mews Lane.

The Ticheys had a big, split-level ranch, a bigger yard. As neat as it was to see Lloyd, the entire scenario loomed disjoint, foreign. Even Baby Myra seemed clean, and the  house didn’t smell of cabbage

.I didn’t realize our city was slowly draining. People, stores and services were migrating. And a friendship faded, tattered pages of memories from a book hidden away on a musty shelf.

Not long after, I went off to Campion Prep; Lloyd ended up at Northfield High. I found the drums and Lloyd did the same for basketball. Our teams never played each other, for my school kept  an urban schedule. But the Despatch would cover Lloyd’s games, where his star would shine brighter as we neared graduation.

No sports legend, I even took Ellen Botsford to the movies once. She later ditched me for a Campion U. guy who had a sleek Honda bike. Who could blame her?

When I returned home after my freshman year at Sacre Coeur College, I fielded an odd phone call. It was from Mrs. Tichey. Her voice trembled as she told me how Lloyd had joined the Marines right after graduation. This unnerved me. I had thought for sure that a hoops scholarship awaited him. I asked for a way to get in touch. She gave me an FPO address. I wrote to him in vain.

Two summers later, I was rehearsing nightly with a local band, awaiting our maiden visit to a recording studio. One evening, a long Cadillac convertible pulled up to the house. Inside was Lloyd Tichey, in civilian clothes, but looking every bit the cut-and-pressed Marine.

Surprised, I hopped in, and we drove down to Lady’s, the seawall where Park Terrace met the Sound. It was his father’s ride, but Lloyd produced some cold Schaefers.

“I’m sick of this Honor Guard, shit, Timmy,” he began. An influential state senator from Northfield had arranged for Lloyd to secure this light-duty post at the governor’s mansion in Hartford.

“But, Lloyd,” I said, “this keeps you out of the war. Easy going.”

“Bullshit. Anyone can carry a flag. I’m a Marine; I want to fight.” I saw this was no time to voice my concerns over the Viet mess we had gotten into. His anger blossomed: sharp eyes, tightened features. I felt the tension.

We drank in silence. We both knew an argument was futile. As he dropped me off, we shared a brief hug, something we had never done as kids.

Our lives, like two opposing streams, changed courses, each divining its own path, surging forward in separate worlds.The ne

xt May, I read in the paper about Operation Georgia in Viet Nam. What made me notice was that the 9th Marines were involved. Lloyd’s unit.

I didn’t get a phone call. Reading the article in the Despatch galvanized my spine. I didn’t care about the heroes in Quang Nam province. But the article did include that a Lloyd Tichey of Northford wouldn’t be returning home. His remains, however, would.

I gleaned that there would be full military honors at Quantico, but not until a viewing was scheduled here in the city.My mom had sold the house by then, but on the day of the wake, I drove down Midfield Avenue. Why? An unseen force directed me down our old street. Maybe I wasn’t that surprised to see a cab pulled up next door to my old house.

I parked and walked over to the cabbie. “What’s the fare?”

“Some Mrs. Wallstorm. Goin’ ta Wolke’s funeral parlor. Sposta wait.”

I tipped him and told him to grab a better fare. Soon, she appeared on her porch. Hunched over like a question mark, she made for the stairs. I hustled over to help her. How old could she be? She seemed ancient when we were kids. I cradled her elbow as she descended.

“I gotcha, Mrs. Wahlstrom,” I said. She finally looked up, peering at me through veiled, powdery crinkles. I was afraid her arm, impossibly frail, would collapse under my grip.

“Oh,” she said, “leetle Teemy. We go see Lloyd, no?”

We drove the mile or so in silence. Every other time I had listened to her, she was yelling at me. This, somehow, seemed more appropriate.

My buddy, Juice Staley, worked at Wolke’s, so he procured a wheelchair for my passenger, who seemed grateful. We briefly stood beside the closed casket, bedecked with Old Glory. We were greeted by a forlorn Mrs. Tichey, looking uncomfortable in a dress. No husband in sight. She was propped up by Myra, now a young woman. I could see Mrs. Tichey’s washcloth lingering on a nearby chair. Jimmy, no longer wild-eyed, comforted Barry. The scene was fraught with an uncomfortable confusion.

 No one seemed to recognize Mrs. Whalstrom, and I saw no fruit in explaining who she was. Some folks, obviously from the suburbs, entered to pay respects. This eased my tautness. Mrs. Wahlstrom gave me a look that said, “Enough,” and we made our way out.

We passed a Marine officer, all gussied up in his dress blues. He said, “Folks, you might want to stay. We are having a color guard, and an armed salute…”

Mrs. Wahlstrom, still in her wheelchair, was having none of this. “YOU GO TO HELL, MEESTER! ALL YOU KNOW IS FIGHT! FOR WHAT? TO KEEL YOUNG BOYS LIKE LLOYD!”

The man bristled and said, “You best get her out of here, you damned hippie,” he said. I answered with a mock, left-handed salute.

All Mrs. W. could manage on the drive home was, “I guess I told heem!”

At her house, she said, “You come in for tea, Teemy. You must.” How could I refuse this?I had never dared to venture through the door before this moment. I was a bit frightened as I did so. “You seet, Teemy,” she said, leading me into a living room. I rested, cradled in comfy cushions bedecked with lace antimacassars. I could smell the furniture polish and soak in the patina of age that seemed to settle on everything.

Then, I shot out of my seat, drawn to an opposite wall. It was covered with decorations, almost a shrine. There were dreamed newspaper clippings (“Tichey Scores 38 in Tourney Win”); pictures of Lloyd as an All-Stater. Handshakes, trophies: a celebration of Lloyd’s career. Looking further, I could see clips from my Who’s Who in American Colleges honors. Even that shot from an old Billboard when they handed out those Sesame Street gold records.

I stood there, in awe (was it joy? terror?) as she brought in the tea. She sensed my questions as we sat.“

I had no keeds, Teemy. You and Lloyd--good boys. Noisy but good. So I follow you, like you was my own boys.”

As the murky, late-afternoon sun slithered through the blinds, I could hear the thump of a ball and the shouts of youth. I fought tears mightily.

Somehow, it all made sense.

[placetobenation]

Holy WarGames Batman!

You can never say that you don’t get your money’s worth when it comes to a NXT:TakeOver PPV and WarGames was no exception!

Whether it be Io Shirai flying off the top of the cage with a garbage can over her head or Pat McAfee doing a swanton bomb from the heavens, this one was another classic from NXT. Plus, Tommaso Ciampa and Timothy Thatcher put together one brutal war for themselves too. Johnny Gargano became the first 3-time North American Champion, uncovering his new Scream partner in Austin Theory. You know it’s a really good PPV when an above average strap match between Dexter Lumis and Cameron Grimes is probably the low man on the totem pole. Grimes continues to get better each and every week with his versatility and strange personality. He reminds me of a bigger Buzz Sawyer.

Injuries? Sure, got them too! Candice LeRae’s broken wrist and Gargano’s split mouth complete with stitches top the charts.

At the end of the day, Raquel Gonzalez gets elevated into the NXT Women’s Championship picture by pinning Shirai. The Undisputed Era remain kings of the WarGames cage. McAfee proves he’s one tough SOB too!

In the end, WarGames is your Star of the Week!

LET THE PARAMEDICS SORT EM OUT #WarGames #NXTTakeOver pic.twitter.com/XTCAwmXZVo

— Pat McAfee (@PatMcAfeeShow) December 7, 2020

NXT: TakeOver WarGames

WarGames: The Undisputed Era defeated The Kings of NXT

WarGames: Candice LeRae, Toni Storm, Raquel Gonzalez, Dakota Kai defeated Ember Moon, Shotzi Blackheart, Rhea Ripley & Io Shirai

NXT North American Championship Triple Threat Match: Johnny Gargano defeated Damian Priest & Leon Ruff to win the title

Strap Match: Dexter Lumis defeated Cameron Grimes

Tommaso Ciampa defeated Dexter Lumis

RAW

RESULTS

RAW Women’s Non-Title Championship Match: Asuka defeated Shayna Baszler

Ricochet & Dana Brooke defeated SLAPJACK & RECKONING

Kofi Kingston defeated Shelton Benjamin

Cedric Alexander defeated Kofi Kingston

3-on-2 Handicap Match: AJ Styles, The Miz & John Morrison defeated Drew McIntyre & Sheamus

United State Non-Title Championship Match: Bobby Lashley defeated Jeff Hardy

Bray Wyatt vs. Randy Orton ends in no-contest

Some quick hits for RAW this week:

It’s only a matter of time before we get two-straps Asuka!

"Imagine: Jeff Hardy teams with Riddle, and we become The Hardy Bros!" — @SuperKingofBros #WWERaw @JEFFHARDYBRAND pic.twitter.com/DtSVNnzERB

— WWE (@WWE) December 8, 2020

The Hardy Bros? Hilarious! Riddle’s growing on me. His in-ring work is unquestioned. His antics outside it are becoming funnier each week.

The only RECKONING in RETRIBUTION should be taking the masks off and clearing them of the silly names. It’s Mia Yim. It’s Mia Yim. It’s Mia Yim already!

And like that, business is back in motion! @CedricAlexander picks up the win, and leaves #TheNewDay with a statement. #WWERaw pic.twitter.com/tCPwbwufIJ

— WWE (@WWE) December 8, 2020

Cedric Alexander is playing The Hurt Business perfectly. He’s a main event player and is proving it each and every week with back-to-back singles victories over The New Day. How long is it before he says I want a shot at Bobby Lashley’s US Title too?

Is it me or are we headed for a screwjob by The Miz and Morrison on AJ Styles in his upcoming WWE Championship match with Drew McIntyre? Just a gut feeling here.

Things have EXPLODED backstage between @DMcIntyreWWE & @WWESheamus on #WWERaw!!! … Or have they? pic.twitter.com/Kkvj1NBR6N

— WWE (@WWE) December 8, 2020

Having Drew McIntyre and Sheamus fight it out in the back after an inadvertent brogue kick to the WWE Champion led to a loss in the ring was beautiful. Fight each other. Beat up an unsuspecting bystander. Go get a pint.

Really missed Alexa Bliss this week. Sure, Bray Wyatt, it’s for her own safety. But it’s definitely not as much fun without Miss Bliss.

𝐻𝐸's here… #WWERaw #TheFiend @WWEBrayWyatt @RandyOrton pic.twitter.com/phjY9qI9Du

— WWE (@WWE) December 8, 2020

Didn’t love the no-contest ending with Wyatt and Randy Orton. We get it, The Fiend is different but the ending just fell flat for me.

NXT

RESULTS

Jake Atlas defeated Isaiah “Swerve” Scott

Triple Threat Match: Grizzled Young Veterans defeated Imperium & Ever-Rise

Tommaso Ciampa defeated Cameron Grimes

Pete Dunne defeated Killian Dain

Raquel Gonzalez defeated Ember Moon

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒐𝒇 #𝑾𝑾𝑬𝑵𝑿𝑻 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕.@WWEKarrionKross & @Lady_Scarlett13 are here! pic.twitter.com/bUpujMXGrI

— WWE (@WWE) December 10, 2020

It’s a week of returns for NXT. And that’s bad news (sorry Wade Barrett) for the men’s roster as Karrion Kross leads the list of returning superstars. I give credit to Damian Priest for stepping up to the challenge, but that’s a challenge with Kross and Scarlett that he’s going to lose. Kross and his NXT Championship that he gave up due to injury will meet again soon I’m sure.

Back too is Drake Maverick, Malcolm Bivens with Tyler Rust, Isaiah “Swerve” Scott, Austin Theory and the NXT Champion Finn Balor. It remains to be seen who will face Balor at New Year’s Evil on January 6th, but it seems everyone from Pete Dunne to Kross to Priest to a whole host of others are in the mix.

“The Way” in-ring promo just went on too long and was too forced I thought. Theory and Indie Hartwell just felt like 3rd and 4th wheels out there as they just can’t match LeRae and Gargano on the mic.

Sunday, she pins #WWENXT #WomensChampion @shirai_io to win #WarGames for her team. Wednesday, she defeats @WWEEmberMoon in the main event on @WWENXT.@RaquelWWE is UNSTOPPABLE! pic.twitter.com/LBZpJhXPD4

— WWE (@WWE) December 10, 2020

Raquel Gonzalez looks the part of a big-time player and is finding her way into the spotlight. Funny that just one year ago, we were saying the same things about Rhea Ripley and then the pandemic hit. I’m not sure if Gonzalez is ready for the NXT Women’s Title just yet, but it would be intriguing to see her as champ and how LeRae would react to it.

"Toni, I don't have problem with you. I just don't like you." – #WWENXT #WomensChampion @shirai_io pic.twitter.com/cpP9DBL0nk

— WWE (@WWE) December 10, 2020

Anytime Toni Storm is near a ring, it’s a win for us. Whether it be taking on Io Shirai for the title or Ember Moon to continue their feud, I’m all in.

WHAT…did we just witness? 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵.#WWENXT pic.twitter.com/880LZBNuD0

— WWE (@WWE) December 10, 2020

Speaking of all in, holy *$#& Xia Li and Boa! I have NO CLUE where it’s going and I don’t care that I don’t know. I am absolutely loving it! Give me more! NOW!

Suddenly, the tag team division is very competive and we haven’t seen Breezango lately. Kudos to the Grizzled Young Veterans and Imperium for stepping it up a notch.

SMACKDOWN

RESULTS

Dolph Ziggler defeated Montez Ford

Non-title Intercontinental Championship Match: Sami Zayn defeated Big E by countout

Liv Morgan & Ruby Riott defeated Billie Kay & Natalya

Cesaro & Shinsuke Nakamura defeated Chad Gable & Otis

SmackDown Championship Match: Carmella defeated Sasha Banks by DQ

It's official. It's @CarmellaWWE vs. @SashaBanksWWE for the SmackDown Women's Championship TONIGHT on FOX! pic.twitter.com/k9mp3SuP8C

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) December 12, 2020

Loved that the contract signing between Sasha Banks and Carmella to open the show DIDN’T take place in the ring. Something a little different was a bit refreshing having Carmella backstage. Plus, we get a main event title match out of it too! Poor Sommelier!

No surprise that we’re getting a tag team title defense for The Street Profits against Dolph Ziggler & Robert Roode after Ziggler pinned Montez Ford Friday night. Good match to advance the feud and set up the title match coming up this Friday night.

Hated the countout victory by Sami Zayn over Big E in a non-title Intercontinental Championship Match. It did nothing for either guy. I like Zayn but here’s hoping this is the start of something big for Big E, pun intended. If you’re going to break him away from The New Day, there has to be a point. First, the I-C Title? Then, maybe a challenge for the Universal Championship down the road too?

.@BiancaBelairWWE brought the *literal* receipts! #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/SKtCTajPkK

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) December 12, 2020

Check the receipts! LOL! Well played Bianca Belair!

An ode to #WWETLC by @FightOwensFight pic.twitter.com/hsAGYn2Lae

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) December 12, 2020

"Kids, If you don't talk some sense into daddy, I am going to be the guy that takes the food off the table." – @WWERomanReigns to @FightOwensFight's family.#SmackDown pic.twitter.com/jHK6MM2LEm

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) December 12, 2020

Kevin Owens vs. Roman Reigns is going to be one insane TLC match. Owens promo was one of his best. Surrounded by his “friends” chair, table and ladder, KO hit hard on his family and just how good Reigns is but that he still vows to get back his Universal Championship. Reigns is so good, just being backstage looking so smug while Jey Uso attacks Owens is priceless. Having Paul Heyman remind him that everything is done on his time instead of running into the ring to fight KO reminds us that less is more. Then, it all turns personal when Reigns finds Owens in the back, beats him down and reminds the Owens family that he’s the one that puts food on the table and that he could take it off theirs. Delicious and well placed right in the middle of the show while the ladies take the main event.

Natalya & Billie Kay. What a waste! We will, though, take a Riott Squad victory anytime we can get it.

Chad Gable is sounding more and more like Kurt Angle and I dig it! I’m hoping Otis is not the only one to join Gable’s training group. Not a bad first pairing either, even in defeat to Cesaro & Shinsuke Nakamura.

𝒰 𝒩 𝒯 𝒪 𝒰 𝒞 𝐻 𝒜 𝐵 𝐿 𝐸 #SmackDown @CarmellaWWE pic.twitter.com/IKLtCXFLOJ

— WWE (@WWE) December 12, 2020

Carmella’s entrance – absolute smoke show! WOW! The trash talk during the match brought back a little old school feel to it. Carmella was pretty good before but she’s taking it to another level with this latest reincarnation. That was a really good match before the DQ ending. The WWE is relying too much on the DQ finish these days. The aftermath of the match – OMG! Smashing bottles over Banks while sipping champagne – very heelish! Looks like we’ll get round 2 at TLC as scheduled.

#SmackDown @CarmellaWWE @SashaBanksWWE pic.twitter.com/CPDLEMUjgU

— WWE (@WWE) December 12, 2020

SmackDown hands down with the best show of the week!

Parting shots:

Having the WWE ThunderDome travel from Orlando to Tampa had little effect on SmackDown. Moving from the basketball arena to the spacious home of the Tampa Bay Rays, I thought the WWE would use some of that space to its advantage. There may be more screens, but maybe down the road we’ll see some additions but it’s first show in Tampa didn’t look a whole lot different than the last show in Orlando.

TLC PPV – Updated Card

WWE Championship: Drew McIntyre vs. AJ Styles

Universal Championship TLC Match: Roman Reigns vs. Kevin Owens

SmackDown Women’s Championship Match: Sasha Banks vs. Carmella

The Fiend vs. Randy Orton

WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship: Nia Jax & Shayna Baszler vs. Asuka & Lana

RAW Tag Team Championship Match: The New Day vs. Cedric Alexander & Shelton Benjamin

Coming up this week:

RAW: Firefly Fun House at WWE ThunderDome

NXT: KUSHIDA & Leon Ruff vs. Johnny Gargano & Austin Theory

SMACKDOWN (on FS1): SmackDown Tag Team Championship Match: The Street Profits vs. Dolph Ziggler & Robert Roode Bianca Belair vs. Bayley

Thanks for letting us share our thoughts! Shoot me an email at jcrowe567@gmail.com. We’d love to hear your comments and suggestions! You can also check out my blog, The Crowe’s Nest as we delve into more pro wrestling, sports entertainment and the World of Sports. My apologies ahead of time – I AM a Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins fan! If you’re not down with that, I’ve got TWO WORDS for you… NEW ENGLAND

[snarkwrites]

FFT: gingerbread family; sam and dean winchester

Notes:

So, uh.. Idk where this came from but.. It was fun to write. And maybe one day, I’ll go further with it, idk. I just really wanted to make sure it wound up on here when I started moving fics.

Summary:

What if Sam and Dean woke up one morning and their lives were.. Semi normal? Or as close to normal as it can reasonably get for the two of them? What would they do? Obviously, here, they rolled with it. 

Pairing:

Sam Winchester x OFC, Raine, Dean Winchester x OFC, Jenn

Warnings:

total au - not even a little bit canon compliant here, tbh. mentions of alcohol, angst, fluff... a groundhog day but make it christmas plot?

The bleak sunshine beamed through the window right into Sam Winchester’s eyes. His response was to shove his head beneath the pillow and try to burrow deeper down into the bed.

From somewhere nearby, the television turned on. He could hear the opening strands of a cartoon theme song and he grumbled to himself sleepily. “Dean, turn it off, man. It’s too early.” he mumbled.

He realized that he wasn’t at a hotel or the bunker around the same time that an arm slipped over him and the soft warmth of another body pressed against his bare back from behind. Sam’s eyes popped open wide and he felt himself starting to go into fight or flight mode, but from behind him, lips brushed against his shoulder.

“Will you be still, Sam?”

Sam sucked in a breath and after a count to 3, he rolled over, preparing himself for what he might be about to come face to face with.

… The blonde from that bar?…. He remembered Dean sending him into the bar in town to pick up these subs they started selling… And to hang around, make sure that the blonde bartender was okay.

Which had lead to Sam talking to said bartender… And realizing that it was Raine, a girl he’d met a few years back.

He tried to push himself to remember more, but nothing came for a second or two.. And then suddenly, it all came in a rush, memories that didn’t make any sense, things he knew couldn’t possibly have happened were bombarding him. As he tried to pick through what he knew and what he was ‘remembering’ as he lie there on his back with her draped over his body, the bedroom door swung open.

“Daddy, Uncle Dean’s on the phone. Are you and mommy gettin up?”

Sam swallowed hard as his eyes fixed on the 6 year old in the doorway, clutching a galaxy colored unicorn against her as she stared at him.

Her eyes were the exact shade of his own.

“Yeah, I’m getting up.”

Beside him, the blonde stirred. “Bed is warm. You’re warm. If you get up… It’ll be cold.”

And then he caught sight of her finger when he went to raise her arm so he could slip out of bed.

And he saw an engagement ring and a wedding band.

His eyes darted around the room as he rose to a sitting position, making a show of stretching and waking up.

Something in this room had to spark some shred of memory. Real memory. Not whatever those memories were earlier.

On the other end of the phone line, Dean sat at a kitchen table that apparently, he’d built with his own hands. In the background, a woman named Jenn that he remembered Sam telling him about while he was talking to Sam on the phone, who was apparently now his wife was in the kitchen with their son, making dinosaur shaped pancakes and laughing. It’s A Wonderful Life was playing on tv and the irony in the movie’s plot and it’s similarity to what Dean Winchester woke up smack in the middle of was not lost on him, either.

Dean would never admit it, but deep down, he wasn’t even sure why he was calling Sam about this. Every part of him wanted to hang up, go into the kitchen and just… Enjoy whatever this was.

But he had to know if he was the only one.. He had to know if Sam was alright, if this was happening to him too.

“ Hey, darlin?” Dean called out. The red head peered out of the kitchen, flour on the bridge of her nose. “You rang, grinch?”

“Oh haha.. What are you makin in there?” - it wasn’t what Dean was wanting to ask, but it was just a question to distract his racing mind. He was currently in problem solver mode on his end, wondering if Sam were ever going to pick up the damned phone.

“Dinos and snakes.”

Dean’s brow raised and Jenn laughed, shaking her head. “Not literally, Winchester. Pancake form. Our son and his thing with dinosaurs, remember?”

“Ah, oh yeah.” Dean cleared his throat because fuck no, he did not remember. And the sooner he got to the bottom of this, the better. Jenn eyed him. He’d been acting plain weird since they woke up this morning.

Almost like he was out of it, like that one time he tangled with a pack of shapeshifters in New Mexico and wound up with a bit of a concussion.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“You’re good, right?”

“I’m fine. Promise.”

Jenn stared at him a few seconds and then nodded to the tv. “No football?”

“Nah, this is kinda… Amusing to me.”

“Okay then.” Jenn lingered a few seconds, the back of her hand on his forehead.

“I mean it, darlin. Totally fine. Is there any chance we’re gonna have pie today?”

His statement about pie seemed to convince her. She smiled and leaned in, brushing her lips to his forehead. “Possibly… If you’re gonna save some of that whipped cream spray for a little later?” she met his gaze with an intent and hungry look in his eyes and he gulped, nodding.

“Definitely.”

… okay, Sammy, c’mon, pick up the damned phone…. He thought to himself as Jenn disappeared back into the kitchen and his son ran out, climbing up into the chair with him, chewing noisily.

…. Okay, so maybe… he thought to himself, stifling the urge to grin as he watched what was apparently his kid, take a bite of food similar to the way he tended to chow down when food was nearby.

“Hey, whoa, champ… You’re gonna choke.”

“But daddy, you eat like this.”

“I’m big, little guy. You’re not.”

On Sam’s end of things, Sam was getting out of bed. His daughter climbed onto his back, talking a mile a minute about how excited she was that it was Christmas and wondering if Grandma and Grandpa were going to come by later.

When she mentioned that, Sam stopped for a split second and tried to search his mind… She had to be talking about Raine’s parents.

Both of his were dead.

They got to the cordless phone in the hallway and Sam picked it up, all the while, preparing him for what version of Dean he might be getting. Dean spoke up quickly.

“Hey, yo… Sammy.. Everything okay?”

Sam hugged the little girl and told her with a smile, “Go in and sit by the tree. Don’t start opening presents yet, princess.”

“I promise, daddy. Oh, I hope one of ‘em is the unicorn I wanted! Or the chemistry set!”

Sam picked up the phone again, peering out to make sure no one could overhear. He hadn’t… Exactly been able to bring himself to tell Raine that he didn’t exactly.. Remember the last decade they’d apparently been together.

“Dean? Is that really you?”

“ Oh thank God, Sammy.. You’re good, right? Nothing wrong?”

“I mean aside from the fact that oh, apparently, I have a wife and daughter that I didn’t have last night?”

“Oh thank god. I thought it was just me.”

“Wait, you too.. Right?” Sam caught sight of a photo sitting on the console table next to the phone’s base. He picked it up, snickering.

“Your wife is familiar….” Sam trailed off and Dean muttered mostly to himself, “Well, that makes one of us because I haven’t seen her before.. I mean… that red head you mentioned on the phone last night… But I didn’t see her….”

“That’s right, she worked at the bar too. Remember? She was the feisty one, the one who twisted that drunk frat boy’s arm behind his back when he tried to grab her ass as she walked by.. I did tell you about it when you called to tell me you changed your mind on the sub…”

“Yeah, now how’d I wind up the lucky bastard married to her, because damn…” Dean cleared his throat and peered around, closing the bathroom door behind him as he stepped inside. “That still doesn’t explain any of this. Think, Sammy… Did you come in contact with anything weird? I know I didn’t.”

“I don’t think I did.. I mean.. Raine and I were talking before I took her home and we were talking about where we thought our lives might be if things worked out differently.” Sam watched Raine and their daughter as they flipped through the tv set, stopping on the Christmas Parade. The little girl’s joyous laugh had a smile tugging at Sam’s lips and he sighed.

“Oh… Oh hell.” Dean finally managed to snag one solid memory of the night before that didn’t feel false.

He was sitting in the bunker, about an hour before Sam finally made it in from his ‘mission’ down at the bar. The bottle of Jim Beam was sitting in front of him and he’d had some classic rock station playing.

He’d just been sitting there, drinking. Trying to imagine what their lives would be like if they weren’t always in danger. He couldn’t see himself ever not hunting, but maybe on a lesser extreme basis.

Only taking cases he was sought out for or something like that.

He’d just talked to Sam on the phone - Sam had been telling him about the red head he suspected was currently in the kitchen right now.

Dean rubbed the back of his head.

“What do we do?” Sam’s question broke through Dean attempting to piece together what might be going on.

Dean rubbed his chin and took a deep breath. “I’ll stumble through the whole present opening thing and then I’m comin over. We’ll try to figure out something then.”

Just as Sam hung up, he felt a gentle tug at the leg of his plaid pajama bottoms. “Daddy?”

Sam knelt down to her level. “Yeah?”

“Can we please, please please open presents now? I really wanna give you yours.”

Sam smiled and even though he was half afraid he’d wake up at any second and discover this was some kind of dream or something, he pulled her into a hug. “Yeah, let’s go, princess.”

She grabbed hold of his hand, attempting to drag him into the living room and Raine eyed him.

“Everything alright? You seemed kind of out of it earlier.”

“Huh? Yeah. It’s good, everything is good. Dean was just calling to let me know he made it back and that they were gonna come over later.”

God he hoped that in whatever version of reality this was, Dean just popping in was a normal thing, he thought to himself, otherwise, he was not going to just be able to explain it without raising any concerns.

Raine eyed him and leaned in, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. “Your brother and Jenn and our nephew come over all the time.. What’s going on, Sam?”

“Nothing.”

Raine eyed him. He almost acted like the time he got hexxed by a witch in Vegas.. When the witch tried to make him forget he already had a wife and tried to lure him to a 24 hour wedding chapel to marry her instead. She bit her lip, opened her mouth to say something, but something in her kept quiet.

She closed her mouth and leaned against him, grabbing for a box. “Oh here. This is yours, daddy..”

Sam eyed her, then the box, biting his lip as he caught on to the special emphasis on the word Daddy.

“Well? Are you gonna open that or not?” Raine was fidgeting, heart racing a little bit. Having another kid wasn’t really something she and Sam talked about. They had both mentioned at odd and off hand times that they wanted another kid, but they never actually sat down and talked it over or planned it out.

Which worked better in Raine’s opinion. Happy accidents were better than planning and stress and frustration when things started to prevent what they wanted to happen from happening.

Sam tore open the box and as soon as he saw the EPT sitting there, he tried to pull himself together.

Parts of him were really really wishing this was real and parts of him were waiting on the other shoe to drop, waiting on demons to burst in or Chuck to show his snivelling face.

“Okay, you’re freaking me out here, Sam.” Raine was sitting next to him, taking shaky breaths as she stared at him waiting on some kind of reaction.

Sam pulled her into his lap and hugged her. “When did you find out?”

“ Earlier this week..” Raine pulled him closer and eyed him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is great.”

…. Maybe I can just sort of go with it.. Until something happens.. And I know it will, it always does… Just once… Sam’s mind was racing as he tried again to pick out anything tangible in his mind that might indicate what was going on or when the other shoe was going to drop.

“ Layla, why don’t you bring daddy what you got him?” Raine told their daughter. She leapt off the floor and went racing out of the room, coming back with a book that looked almost as heavy as her.

Sam chuckled. “What’s this, hmm?”

“Just look!”

Sam chuckled as he took the book, opening it to the first page. He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her close. “I love it, sweetie.”

“You’ll read it to me, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam promised as he reached for a box nearby, recognizing his own handwriting immediately. He held it out to Raine, giving his best smile because he had not one single clue what was actually inside the box.

“Sam, I told you…” Raine took the box and bit her lip as she unwrapped it carefully, bursting into laughter.

“You seriously… went and bought the matches to my purposely mismatched socks.” Raine was about to put the box away, but she caught sight of something silver in the bottom and when she pulled it out, she gasped.

“Oh.. Oh… Sam.” Raine moved to sit in his lap, cupping his jawline with her hand, pulling him into a deep kiss. “How in the hell did you get a picture of me that night?”

Sam coughed, raking his hands through his hair. He knew she was waiting for an answer but honestly, given the situation, he didn’t really have one..

“I took it earlier in the night and I kind of… I’ve kept it all this time. Then I saw that locket.”

“I helped, Mommy!”

“And she helped.” Sam added quickly, praying to fuck that Raine didn’t question it. He let out a breath when she did nothing beyond snuggle even closer to him.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, Sam. It’s.. I… I’m gonna cry now, damn it.” Raine giggled as she wiped at her eyes.

XXX

He couldn’t get over it. Every look around the place revealed something totally new. Dean wasn’t very good at hiding it, either. Jenn eyed him as she saw him standing there, holding their first “family photo” in his hands. She made her way over, leaning against him.

“You know I told you not to get him that dirtbike, right?”

“Yeah, well…” Dean shrugged, chuckling. It was a little too easy to just go with the situation he found himself in. Every part of him really did believe that had he chosen… Had he been able to choose.

He would have definitely chosen Jenn.

His arm slid around her and he admitted quietly, “Just kept thinkin about how Dad, he… He kept saying we’d get one, but we never really got around to it.”

Jenn sighed, nodding as she stared up at her husband. “I know. It’s okay. We’ll just have to teach him how to be careful on it. I knew you were going to go back and get it.”

Even as she said it, while she watched their son sitting on the orange and black dirt bike replica, she still got this feeling that something was off with Dean today. She tucked her fingers beneath his jaw, guiding his gaze down to her own.

“Level with me, Dean.. Are you really okay? Because you’ve acted a little off since we got back last night.”

Dean took a deep breath. He was just about to tell her the truth, all of it, but when he opened his mouth to do so, it just wouldn’t come out.

The song on the radio had him kind of biting his lip and thinking real long and hard about what the song suggested, ‘Let It Be’.

Maybe until he and Sam figured things out, letting it go -and going along with it wasn’t too bad, right?

He just had to hope this didn’t come around and bite him right in the ass like so much other stuff in the past had. Jenn was eyeing him again with that look. Dean put his arms around her, hands slipping down and squeezing her ass. “I’m fine, Jenn. I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean couldn’t help but relax a little when she seemed to believe him.

“Let’s go finish opening presents, hmm darlin?” he muttered the words against her mouth and she playfully walked her fingertips up the front of his tee shirt. “And then maybe I can open up a little somethin else, hmm?”

Dean swallowed hard, coughing a little, but he gave a wink and smirk in response. “Maybe so.”

XXX

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Raine asked the question and Sam nodded. Raine eyed him suspiciously, but she shook her head and muttered something about horomones and past close calls he’d had.

It hit him then. He knew by now that he still hunted. That Dean still hunted. So, it went without saying, he’d most likely kept hunting throughout the beginning stages of their relationship.

But did she hunt now too?

After a few seconds of watching her watch their daughter through the bay windows in the living room, he made his way over, standing behind her, his hands at her hips. He turned her around. “I’m fine, Raine.”

“ Okay.” she seemed a little more convinced. The Impala came to a stop in their driveway and Sam chuckled as he watched his daughter dart straight for it. He honestly thought it’d be Dean and his wife and their child getting out.

He swallowed hard, mouth opening and closing when his mom and dad got out instead, his dad with a pile of presents so high that the man couldn’t really see over them and as a result, was having to look around.

“Daddy! Grandpa and Grandma are here! They did come! I told you they’d make it back from Arizona!”

Sam walked to the door, leaning in it’s frame, rubbing his hand over his hair. A red Impala similar to their father’s pulled to a stop behind where John parked and then with a squeal, Sam’s daughter took off at a run for Dean’s legs.

“Oh! Uncle Dean, did you get those bad wolves? When you went huntin?” his niece was looking up at him, that same look in her eyes that Sam used to get whenever Dean told him the plot to some movie as a bedtime story when they were kids and left behind in the hotel.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to take everything in. Apparently, his parents were still alive in this alternate universe. And apparently, hunting truly was a family affair, because on the way over, he’d gotten into a conversation with his son about his last hunt.

All he could think at the moment was that at least he was doing it right. From what he gathered from Jenn and his son, he and Jenn and Sam and Raine alternated. Whoever wasn’t on the case stayed by phones and kept in touch. And kept the kids safe.

It wasn’t the way his father had done things when he took it up, not at all.

And then it really hit him.

His parents were still alive here. He had his whole family.

They finally had their entire family.

Sam made his way over, laughing when his daughter climbed up and into his arms. He leaned in and whispered to Dean, “What’s the verdict?”

“Remember the last time this happened, right?”

Sam nodded. They’d all been together in the bunker. But everything around them had been totally different.

This time, aside from their own personal lives… Nothing really had been so far. Nothing so catastrophic that they’d want to just keep poking around for answers.

“Yeah.. You don’t think?” Sam asked, staring at his brother intently. Dean eyed everyone and green eyes darted around the cul de sac his brother lived on. “No.. I mean, nothin’s obviously wrong.”

Kids across the street were outside throwing a football back and forth. Further down the street, a few older kids and one or two teenagers were heading towards the diner a few blocks away.

Everything felt okay. There wasn’t this air of something horrible waiting to happen. Despite that being the case, both Sam and Dean had their guard up. And things got even further interesting when John and Mary wandered over, talking quietly amongst themselves.

“Okay, now you both know how I feel about makin deals..” John started, with Mary nodding in agreement, glancing back and forth from son to son. Dean and Sam shared a look and shook their heads, raising their hands.

“I swear neither of us did.”

“I know neither of us did. We were just going about Christmas eve normally… Workin a case here in town.. I ran into Raine at the bar and I was actually telling Dean about his wife Jenn when we talked on the phone.” Sam was quick to say it and John rubbed his hand over the back of his head.

“They all think everything is fine. But we all know there’s somethin at play here..”

“John, it doesn’t feel off like last time.” Mary’s hand closed around her husband’s arm as she took a deep breath and watched their grandchildren running through the yard.

Dean chuckled, nodding to his son. “He’s got a pet snake.”

Sam nodded to his daughter. “She pouted a little earlier because we didn’t get her an exact ‘big girl’ chemistry set. Raine said something about her last experiment and the way it exploded on the kitchen ceiling..” and he took a deep breath. “And Raine is pregnant.”

Dean chuckled, nodding to Jenn. “We were talkin about that on the way over here. You took it okay, right?”

“Considering I literally just woke up in the middle of all this today? I hope I did. I tried to.. I just…”

The four of them muttered at the same time, “Don’t wanna leave this all behind.” as Mary hugged her sons. “ I know. I definitely know that feeling.”

“So what do we do?”

“Keep our eyes open. Let all of this ride it’s course. See what tomorrow brings.” John said it quietly and all eyes shifted to him.

“This is all I wanted, from the start. Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m gonna roll with it. Everything I’ve seen so far indicates that we’re still in the game, we’re still doin what we’ve always done. Maybe this is finally a reward for all of that.”

“Careful Dad.. you sounded kinda optimistic just then.” Dean watched the kids and called out to his son, “Hey, whoa buddy… Slow down and don’t go so close to the street.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“In the meantime, let’s just get inside. I’m freezing my tits off standing out here. And this cold can’t be good for the kids.” Mary smiled at her sons and made her way over to where her granddaughter sat on the edge of Sam’s porch, hugging herself.

“You cold, sweetie?”

“Mhm. Is everything gonna be okay?” the little girl asked, the question catching Mary off guard for a split second.

Remembering the situation, she plastered on a reassuring smile and hugged the little girl tight. “It is, sweetie. C’mon little man!” she called out to Dean’s son who ran over, grabbing hold of her hand.

“I’m starvin. Can’t wait to get inside and eat.”

Mary laughed softly.

John caught up to her, laughing as he told the kids, “So… who wants more presents, huh?”

“I do!”

“I DO!”

Sam and Dean lingered outside for a little while and Dean finally cleared his throat.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Dean?”

“Don’t do that thing you do where you overthink. I’m tryin not to myself.”

“Careful, Dean, you almost sound like you want things to stay this way…” Sam chuckled and Dean mulled it over, waving at Jenn, who came to the doorway with Raine in tow. “Will you two hurry? A Christmas Story is on and the turkey is almost done.”

“Comin darlin!”

“I’ll be right in, sweetheart.”

The brothers shared a look and took a deep breath.

“I think maybe Dad is right… I mean stoppin for gas on the way over here and there were no weird headlines…” Dean said it, Sam letting out a ragged breath as he pointed out also, “Look… We’ve both always wanted this exact thing.. So the way I see it? If it works and nothing is broken, we don’t try to fix it.”

“We just be really careful.”

“Super careful.” Sam echoed, chuckling as he saw Raine and Jenn waiting on them to come in. “I mean… we’ve always said we can’t have both.. And… we have that here. I want it, Dean.”

“So do I. Let’s just roll with it and see what happens.”

And on that note, the brothers made their way into the house just as Raine and Jenn and their mother were starting to put food out on the dining table.

And as they sat around, laughing and talking and eating, they both felt genuinely happy for once.

A true Christmas miracle, if you will…. Now, they both just had to hope that this miracle extended beyond Christmas… That somehow, this was their life.

[stevecanmakeanythingnerdy]

Battle #23

Gaunt: Kryptonite ( Side Gene )

Vs.

The Wipers: Youth of America ( Side One )

Gaunt: Kryptonite ( Side Gene )

Gaunt was a pop punk band formed in Columbus, Ohio, in 1991. The band released five albums and a crap ton of singles before splitting in 1998. Actually 5 albums is a bit of a stretch. Sob Story is really more of an extended EP and clocks in Around 20 minutes, but anyway... yeah the 90s Ohio scene was pretty rock and punk and roll. But at the top of that list was New Bomb Turks and these guys. Really almost compliments to each other. NBT was down and dirty, and Gaunt filled in for the poppier and peppier parts. In fact in the earliest days, they shared members with NBT, but it was short lived. They bounced around a few independent labels and one last album was recorded for Thrill Jockey, entitled Kryptonite, and released in 1996. Kryptonite was released with a metallic lime green cover and contained lyrics about Superman, Lois Lane, and lost love. Over the course of the next year, the band began to drift apart, with Wick recording solo material. The band managed to scrape together one more album for record giant Warner Bros when they came sniffing around after Green Day had made it evident that punk rock sells, but they broke up soon after due to little to no support of it. So in the grand scheme of things, their time was brief, but powerful. And in true punk rock fashion, I don’t think the band really gave a crap about any of it. They just played music and had fun. Unfortunately in 2001, lead singer Jerry Wick was hit and killed by a car while bicycling home. It’s sad too, because he was a great songwriter. “Kryptonite” is the lead tune of course. Blast off into the rock and roll Metropolis of garage punk rock and roll. The very thing that made this band cool is that they weren’t afraid to try different things. This one features piano. “Savior Breath” is not only a great pun but another great song as well. That catchy 3 chord stuff lo-fi blast off! Hell yeah! Certainly not gaunt on the rock (#seewhatididthere). “Hope You’re Happy “ is about as punk rock as you can expect to get. This is what it would sound like if NBT did less yelling and sang more harmonies. Horns and $#!t on this number, again utilizing some new tricks with the old. Not immune to the catchy AF pop punk vibe that Green Day had a stranglehold on in the mid 90s comes “Transistor Sister”. It’s a no brainer but a head banger too. There’s even a video for it! “Bust” follows with the breakneck speedy Gonzalez “bust you in your head!” It’s perfectly placed pauses and fuzzed out guitar will leave you wanting more. The last fast track is “Hand in Pants”. Gaunt never lets up and the backing harmonies prevail. This band had something special. They were a band you could respect. Quick, catchy and no frills. Serious but fun all at once. Hook laden and made to order madness. This and Bricks and Blackouts may be one of their most experimental albums. It’s damn good though. R. I. P. Gaunt. Oh! And Of course there’s a “side Gene”. You have to get a Kiss reference in. (The other side is Paul, duh)

The Wipers: Youth of America ( Side One )

Technically just Wipers, but “The” is often attached. Wipers was a punk rock band formed in Portland, Oregon in 1977 by guitarist Greg Sage, along with drummer Sam Henry and bassist Dave Koupal. The group's tight song structure and use of heavy distortion were hailed as extremely influential by numerous critics and musicians. The band is considered the first Pacific Northwest punk band. Possibly most famous for being both influential to and covered by Nirvana. Greg was interested in music at an early age and has a rather unique perspective on music. His father worked in the broadcast industry so he had access at an early age to a record lathe. He would often study music under the microscope and loved the way it was produced from the record. This gave him a very deep understanding of the way the sound was reproduced. That and Hendrix inspired him to pick up a guitar and the rest is history. Originally they formed just as a recording project. The plan was to record 15 albums in 10 years without touring or promotion. Sage thought that the mystique built from the lack of playing traditional rock 'n' roll would make people listen to their recordings much deeper with only their imagination to go by. He thought it would be easy to avoid press, shows, pictures and interviews. He looked at music as art rather than entertainment; he thought music was personal to the listener rather than a commodity. He is not wrong, but soon shows and touring did happen. Sage has been quoted and remarked on their initial reception: "We weren't even really a punk band. See, we were even farther out in left field than the punk movement because we didn't even wish to be classified, and that was kind of a new territory. ... When we put out Is This Real? ... it definitely did not fit in; none of our records did. Then nine, ten years later people are saying: 'Yeah, it's the punk classic of the '80s'". So this is their second album, and it’s a reaction to the quick short burst of songs all the punk bands were doing in the early 80s. In fact the title track is nearly 10 minutes long! But that’s on the other side. This side contains “Taking too Long” which has highly advanced guitar for a 2nd LP. It’s a serene and peaceful song. Not the BEST Wipers song but still pleasing. “Can This Be” is more the rocking style Wipers fans are used to. Punk elements but wrapped in rock with those fuzz crunch guitars the6 helped stylize. Like a grunge burrito! The dropout bridge and energy are worth the listen alone. For me, the best tune on this side has got to be “Pushing The Extreme”. The Wipers are good at that “haunted melody” sound. You know, kind of creepy sounding but low frequency and underscored by punching bass lines. Accentuated really. I also like the weird phrasing of the word Extreme, it’s partly why Wipers stand out so much. A very loooooooong song though. “When it’s Over” sees Sage showcasing his guitar prowess. Very surfy (another signature of the Wipers sound) and with all of the builds it’s a pretty great piece. Some spoken word but it’s essentially instrumental. These early records have a great cohesion and consistency in their cyclical riffs. Not bad for one of the Northwest’s most influential acts and precursors to the “Seattle sound”.

So it was a real epic battle today of old vs new punk. Well, I guess they’re both old. More like old vs really old? Anyway. Gaunt had a secret weapon on hand, Kryptonite...but will it weaken The Wipers? Gaunt burned 99 calories over 15 minutes and 6 songs. They averaged 16.50 calories burned per song and 6.60 calories burned per minute. They earned 15 out of 18 possible stars. The Wipers tried to engage the youth of America. The Wipers burned 105 calories over 4 songs and 16 minutes. They averaged 26.25 calories burned per song and 6.56 calories burned per minute. They earned 10 out of 12 possible stars. Looks like Gaunt’s Kryptonite worked! They walk away champs today!

Gaunt: “Transistor Sister” (sorry for the piss poor quality but it was the 90s)

https://youtu.be/T7GTSYz1Bmw

#Randomrecordworkoutseasonseven

#Randomrecordworkout

[icedanceupstarts]

Assorted Senior Dance Musings

1. What even is a score anyway?: Scores are made up of numbers that we're apparently just putting where the hell ever this year. At this rate, anyone who wants to make the FD cut at worlds will need to aim to break 70 at a minimum. Curiously enough, this so far extends more to the RD than the FD, where not only do we seem less at risk of maxing out the scoring system before the second half of the season but also where the teams putting up big leads in the RD are losing some of their edge over the next tier of teams.

2. Papadakis/Cizeron: Because when you're a four time world champ you get your own bullet point. P/C have gone for an entirely new look in their rhythm dance, taking us to a campy aerobics class that miiight slightly overstay its welcome. An entire half a Finnstep of 123 dance?? This may not be the aerobics class we’re personally rushing to sign up for, but we certainly appreciate they’ve gone for something fun here. It's kind of refreshing seeing them go for something so unabashedly silly and campy. Their spoken word FD was possibly scientifically engineered in a lab to be the most Not Our Thing program conceivable, but surprisingly there's a fair amount to like. Hearing that they were skating to a spoken word poem made your mods go blue screen of death for a bit, but the program wouldn't stand up without it, and it's a well conceived program that clearly comes from a specific vision they have for their skating. Is it a vision that we, personally, need or want to see more of? Not really, but the wonderful thing about ice dance is that there's something for everyone.

3. Assorted Front Runners: Hubbell/Donohue and Stepanova/Bukin won't be debuting until Skate America, but the other major medal contenders have shown up in some capacity already. Sinitsina/Katsalapov are continuing their highly classical approach, with a particularly charming Singing in the Rain RD(version linked from the Test skates because the Ondrej Nepela videos are barely half a step above a fancam). Their free dance is all classic Russian ice dance like last year's, if mostly more cohesive although that ending does seem to come a little out of nowhere. They actually have the lowest scores of the top teams thus far by a few points, although the jury is very much out on whether that's going to mean anything or not. In sharp contrast you have Guignard/Fabbri doing a David Bowie free dance that has a bit too much going on musically and needs another pass with the music editor, but is a really strong program for them, despite or possibly because it's such a strong stylistic departure for them. They have generally tended towards more classic programs, so this is definitely an attempt to make waves. They've got some great elements like their stationary lift, and just generally unique, interesting choreo that stands apart from any of the other top teams. In that same vein, Chock/Bates have also picked something outside of their previous wheelhouse, a somewhat controversial snake charmer FD, not linked because NBC hates us. We're going to punt to people more qualified to talk about whether it's cultural appropriation or not and focus on what we are qualified to talk about, namely that Evan needs a snazzier shirt. Regardless of anything else, we don't love this free dance, and most of the things we do like come from Chock/Bates themselves. Their lifts and expressiveness, obviously, that's just a built in feature of any C/B program, and this year's free features some of the best use of body shaping we've ever seen, culminating in a truly amazing end pose. Gilles/Poirier have followed up on their acclaimed Vincent program to deliver another highly emotional, artsy free dance as part of their #programsforthepeople. Unfortunately we are not in the segment of the population that this Joni Mitchell FD is targeting, but it's a great vehicle for them anyway. Their programs are always so intricately choreographed and feature innovations that other teams adopt years later. After Weaver/Poje announced that they would not be competing this season, Gilles/Poirier seemed to have a free pass to the national title, but...

4. Rise of the Canadanes: There have been a number of unexpected occurrences already, but one of the most notable has been the rise of Fournier-Beaudry/Sorensen to seemingly major medal contention status. The former Danes are one of surprisingly many teams to have chosen Bonnie and Clyde, and they show great style and flair in this program. They always have such a sleekness to their skating, and they even found a third song in this musical that no one else seems to have discovered. We're a bit torn on the twizzles-- we admire the commitment to theme, but the placement in the middle of This World Will Remember Us is pretty jarring. We see what they're going for, but it would be smoother if those twizzles were at the top of the program. Their free dance, courtesy of Mr. Buble’s Cry Me A River, is as Canadian as their teammates Gilles/ Poirier's free dance, but far more dynamic. That extra energy and drama may help them challenge G/P for the national title, and at least help Canada keep three spots in ice dance for next season, a slightly tricky prospect. Keep watch on their marks at Skate America, where they'll face Hubbell/Donohue and Stepanova/Bukin, the two top teams from last season that haven't shown their programs yet.

5. American Bronze Battle: the lower ranks of American ice dance were tight last season, and have only gotten more so. We've already had a number of matchups, and will have a few more as the season progresses. Carreira/Ponomarenko have split placements with both McNamara/Carpenter and Hawayek/Baker, and beat the former while losing to the latter due to a twizzle error. McNamara/Carpenter are lagging behind in scores internationally thus far, but who the fuck knows what that means or if it means anything at all. Green/Parsons have also shown up extremely strongly with great matching skating technique and truly who knows at this point. Their scores have not yet been on par with the other on the Challenger series, but scores are just a collection of numbers in various orders, eliciting sound and fury from the fanbase but signifying nothing.

6. No, but really, what IS score?: It’s been frustrating watching the Challenger series and seeing scores fluctuate week to week knowing that it all counts for Season’s Bests, but this year has outsold in not a good way to the point it’s felt like even within the same competition scores aren’t reflecting decent margins or comparisons. Orihara/Pirinen made their team debut at Lombardia with decent performances, a few small bobbles, for a total score of 148.48. Just one week later they competed again at Nepela, cleaned up the bobbles and scored 166.93, an almost twenty point increase in a week. Across both programs that was a more than six point increase in PCS alone! Now don’t get us wrong, they are off to an outstanding start as a team and Finland could wind up with their own version of an ice dance battle here very soon, but just ????? We genuinely don't know how people are making predictions on how the season will go based on these early scores because we can't even tell you how the Challengers are going to go while they're underway, much less several months in the future. Nine teams broke 100 in the free dance at Nebelhorn alone, which we're pretty sure meant more just last year?

7. Why @ music editors: It's only September but look, we need to have A Talk. The music edits and overall construction of programs is already driving us to madness. We've brought up several teams already, and yet there are still more questions. Both of Smart/Diaz's programs suffer from this, with their super fun Grease RD for some reason having a final music cut after all the elements have been completed, and their Free Dance being made up of two extremely separate programs uneasily sandwiched together. Wang/Liu, for reasons we cannot yet grasp, opted to to put the Swan Lake finale in the middle of their free dance instead of at the end. We are no purists, we're all for shifting musical selections around to best fit the program, but it very much sounds like The End and then the programs keep going with a much lighter selection and it's very confusing? We can appreciate the choice to put their twizzles to the part where Odile famously does her 32 fouettes, but not where in the program they put those twizzles. Lauriault/Le Gac just have a massive shift in mood and style in the last 45 seconds. While further development of their free dance in addition to her cheery yellow dress has answered the question of whether it was a happy or sad program that troubled us so over the summer, it just changes into a completely different program right at the end without warning, and we're never prepared for it.

8. The rest of the Russians: There are just so many teams right now. And thank goodness for that third spot at Worlds but So. Many. Teams. You’ve got a seemingly clear top two and then... everyone else. Due to a combination of injuries, late changes to RD music, and Russia not sending any dance teams to Autumn Classic, US Classic OR Nebelhorn, we don’t have many competition results to discuss at this point but then again, see points #1 and #6 above. Shpilevaya/Smirnov and Popova/Mozgov both finished fourth at their respective Challenger assignments, the former with good season opener performances and the latter with an untied boot and an unexpected double splat at the end, and will be up against each other at Finlandia. Skate America will be a big event for Russian dance season debuts with Zagorski/Guerreiro putting their own unfortunate boot lace incident at Nationals last season behind them and Shevchenko/Eremenko making their senior debut.

[hazyheel]

Clash of Champions 2019 Predictions

Clash of Champions is WWE’s last pay per view before the wrestling landscape undergoes a massive overhaul. NXT is getting TV time, Smackdown is moving to fox and Fridays, and of course, we have the Wednesday Night Wars starting up. NXT vs. AEW. Right now, WWE really needs their pay per view to impress to get some good buzz going around them, because AEW has been really outperforming WWE pay per views that happened around the same time. So this is a big show for WWE, and they have packed it full of matches as such. The King of the Ring final was bumped to Raw, but other than that there are plenty of big matches. And here are my predictions as to who will win.

Roman Reigns vs. Rowan in a No Disqualifications Match: This is the only non-title match that is scheduled for the show, and the story is so weak that it hurts. Reigns was attacked several times before Summerslam, but no one knew who did it. So, we had a whodunnit storyline that was very promising. Samoa Joe was the first suspect, but he was quickly proven innocent. Then Reigns interrogated Buddy Murphy, who said that it was Rowan who was responsible. Daniel Bryan and Rowan both denied it, and at Summerslam, Rowan attacked Murphy during his match and called him a liar. He and Bryan attacked Murphy again backstage on Smackdown to force him to take his claim back, which he did. The two bearded men then said that the real culprit was a guy who looked exactly like Rowan. That was around the time that this all fell apart, not only because it is a bad plot point, but they also ignored the doppleganger for the rest of the story. But eventually, Reigns somehow got security footage of Rowan walking away from the forklift incident, and Rowan admitted it was him. Remember, he easily could’ve said it was the other guy, but he just confessed. Rowan then beat down Roman and Bryan, and eventually this match was scheduled. Bad story, real bad. Hopefully there is a swerve coming, because Rowan is not the guy for this spot. I think Roman will win here, but I hope to God that someone else is actually behind the attack. I think that the No DQ stip should make this match more fun, but I doubt it’ll be one of the highlighted matches of the night. I think this match will be pretty good, but not a classic or anything.

Drew Gulak vs. Humberto Carrillo vs. Lince Dorado for the WWE Crusierweight Championship: This is a pretty simple match. A few weeks ago on 205 Live, we had a Captains challenge match: 5 on 5 tag, elimination rules. The only two survivors of that match were Oney Lorcan and Humberto Carrillo. The two then faced off in a #1 contenders match the next week, with Carrillo winning. However, Lince Dorado and Carrillo had been having some problems for the past few weeks, with Dorado being pissed about Carrillo scoring a win on him. Dorado went as far as to say that he wasn’t a real luchadore, and while Carrillo seemed to keep taking it in stride, the tension was building. Underneath all of this, Ariya Daivari was trying to sow insurrection in the Lucha House Party by telling Dorado that he could and should be the breakout star, so Dorado is slowly turning heel. Carrillo and Dorado had a singles match eventually on 205 Live, with Dorado winning and being inserted into the match. I think that Carrillo should win here, and lead the Cruiserweight division as it moves down to NXT. I think that he should pin Gulak, his old nemisis and mentor, and start to feud with Dorado in a one on one scenario. He deserves to be champion, and I think it is time for that face to be leading the division. I think Gulak could win as well, as his time doesn’t really need to be over. This should be a pretty good match. Lots of high fliers in here, and the Gulak will have to work hard to keep them grounded. I think this is one of the matches that I am more looking forward to, even if it’ll end up on the pre-show.

Alexa Bliss & Nikki Cross vs. Fire and Desire for the WWE Women’s Tag Team Championships: This one was built in a pretty simple way. Fire and Desire just pinned the champions in a non title match recently. Beyond that, the only story is really between Cross and Mandy Rose, because Rose keeps telling Cross that she is ugly. Ouch. This pains me to say it, but Bliss and Cross are probably gonna win here. They haven’t held the belts for very long, and they need some wins under their belts before the two split up. I really don’t know how good this match will be, because Rose and Deville are great together, but Bliss and Cross haven’t really impressed me just yet. This could be their breakout match as a team, and I hope it will be, but I won’t get my hopes up.

The New Day vs. The Revival for the WWE Smackdown Tag Team Championships: The brunt of this feud will be explained later on when I talk about the WWE Championship match, but there are some small things to go over. While Orton feuded with Kingston, Orton decided to get some help on his side in the form of the Revival. The Revival then assisted Orton in dismantling the New Day, and they put both Big E and Xavier Woods out of action for a while. So now that Woods and Big E are back, the two want revenge. So that is the origin of this match, and it is actually one I’m looking forward to. We’ve been robbed of this match in the past, and now we can get it on a proper pay per view. I think that the Revival will win here, because I don’t think that this feud will be over, and the heels being able to take the title off of the faces is a good way to keep things exciting. I am looking forward to this match a lot, and I think it has the potential to be one of the best on the card.

Braun Strowman and Seth Rollins vs. Bobby Roode & Dolph Ziggler for the WWE Raw Tag Team Championships: This match is only happening because they needed an extra bit of intrigue to add to the Universal Championship match. So Strowman and Rollins both had problems with the OC, so despite the fact that they were basically feuding over the Universal Championship they decided to challenge for the Tag Team Championships, and they ended up winning. So Seth is a double champ, and Strowman made it no secret that he wanted the Universal Championship as well. To decide a #1 contender, there was a tag team turmoil match, where Roode and Ziggler were thrown together randomly but ended up winning after beating four other teams. So I think that due to the tension between Strowman and Rollins, they will choke this match and Roode and Ziggler will get the win. The tag team belts should be contested in the midcard, and Roode and Ziggler have the name value and talent to elevate them a bit. I think this could be an exciting match, but I’m pretty unsure. If they don’t overbook this match to all hell, then I bet it’ll be good or even great. But if the only thing that is important to the writers is the World Championship match, then this will probably suffer. I’ll choose to be optimistic though, and look forward to this match.

Shinsuke Nakamura vs. the Miz for the WWE Intercontinental Championship: this match sorta arose from a feud between the Miz and Sami Zayn. The two argued on Miz TV about how Zayn hasn’t been performing very well, and Zayn announced that he’d be taking time away from being in the ring to start managing. His first client is Nakamura, who immediately attacked Miz. Miz received another couple of beatdowns over the course of a few weeks, until Miz decided to challenge for the belt. I think that Shinsuke wins this match, because the pairing of him and Zayn is working out really well. They need to go on a bit of a win streak, because this pairing is a breath of fresh air into both of them. I think that this could be a secret good match, because Miz can really turn it up when he wants to. I have high hopes for this, and I hope that I’m not disappointed.

AJ Styles vs. Cedric Alexander for the WWE United States Championship: this match started off in an odd way, with Styles and the OC attacking Alexander backstage one week in a seemingly random way. A few weeks later, Alexander and Styles fought in a singles match that ended in a DQ, and then Alexander pinned Styles in a 10 man tag later that night, scoring him this opportunity. I think that Alexander is going to pick up the win, just because I think AJ needs to be elevated into the main event scene. Alexander deserves a midcard run with the title, and he can put on some great matches. That belt needs to be used to elevate people again, and to make more main event stars. Hopefully this is a way to do it. This is the match that I am most looking forward to given how great these two guys are, and it’s a match I haven’t seen before. I bet this one will steal the show, and I can’t wait to see it.

Bayley vs. Charlotte Flair for the WWE Smackdown Women’s Championship: originally, this match was made because Charlotte was being incredibly cocky, to the point that Bayley had to challenge her to a match. But since Bayley turned heel alongside Sasha Banks, it has now become an interesting heel on heel battle. Bayley still feels like Charlotte is too entitled and wants to put her in her place, while Charlotte says that Bayley is a snake, and wants to expose her. For a heel on heel match, I’m into this. I still think Bayley should win, especially now that she’s turned heel. She wants some momentum coming out of the heel turn, and this is how you do it. This could be a great match, and I think given the story, it just might be.

Becky Lynch vs. Sasha Banks for the WWE Raw Women’s Championship: this match started with Banks’ return. She came back and immediately turned heel and attacked Natalya in order to get Lynch’s attention, and she certainly did. Since then, the two have dueled on the mic, with Banks saying that Lynch was gifted her success by having her face broken, and Lynch saying that Banks was the greatest wrestler to have never been great. I’m really excited for this, because this is Lynch’s first challenger that feels like has a chance against her, and I actually think Banks will win. Banks will win this match, and then her and Lynch can feud a bit more and have Lynch win it back in a few months. There is money to be made with Banks and Bayley at the top of the women’s division as heels, and I think that is the story they should go with. I also think this will be a great match, because these two have put on awesome matches in NXT, and I suspect they can do it again.

Kofi Kingston vs. Randy Orton for the WWE Championship: This match definitely goes back far. Orton challenged Kingston for the Championship at Summerslam, and in the lead up to the match, they referenced how Orton actively held Kingston back from the main event ten years ago. However, at Summerslam, the match ended in a double count out when Orton started to taunt Kingston’s family, and the two brawled. Those attacks on Kingstons family have continued, with Orton and the Revival constantly ambushing the New Day, even taking Big E and Woods out for a time. Now things have become more and more personal over the course of the feud, with things climaxing here. I think this match will have some sort of screwy finish once again, like maybe with Orton winning by DQ. So that will be my pick, and they will probably go on to have a match at Hell in a Cell. I don’t expect much out of this match, but maybe the actual blowofff will be good.

Seth Rollins vs. Braun Strowman for the WWE Universal Championship: this match doesn’t have the strongest story, but a lot of intrigue. Strowman made his intentions known for the WWE Universal Championship, but he and Rollins continued to have problems with the OC, so they teamed up and won the belts from Anderson and Gallows. Now, their Universal Championship match is still on, but they are partners as well, very exciting. I think Rollins will win here, because he is more than likely going to take on Bray Wyatt at Hell in a Cell, and that is a match that I need to see. So Rollins will more than likely retain here, because this just isn’t the time for Strowman. Maybe this will be a good match, but I’m not looking forward to it beyond the tension that this match will cause during the tag match earlier.

[breeeliss]

If you're Still taking alluralance ideas, I'd love a laundry Room au. Like One of those ones where A thought they were alone So they Were Dancing around while they Fold and makeout with fresh out of the dryer Clothes and then they hear laughter, And it Turns out that B was Just folding in the Shadows and now it's Awkward

allurance

ao3 + masterpost 

//

the laundry room in lance’s apartment was, to put it quite frankly, fucking horrific. he was pretty positive is used to be a torture chamber in the past, but maybe that was the marathoned hours of american horror story talking. 

either way, it wasn’t uncommon for lance to put off his laundry for a couple of days because he was terrified of going down into the basement by himself. people could make fun of him all they wanted, the place looked like something out of a saw movie. 

the fluorescent lights always flickered, the floors were disgusting, the boiler made the most horrendous noises, and the gaping, dark storage room pressed to the back of the room was currently without a door and left plenty of room for lance to imagine what kind of monster or murderer was hiding in the shadows. 

he really needed to cool it on the true crime podcasts. 

but there was no excuse today. lance was officially out of underwear so he needed to stay down there and get at least one load done. so lance plopped his speakers on top of his laundry basket, plugged in his phone, and played the only song he knew that could fill him with a sufficient enough amount of courage to plunge into the depths of the basement. 

“be a man” from the mulan soundtrack. 

once the drum line got started and li shang’s voice echoed through the room, lance immediately got pumped. yes, he was gonna fucking get down to business. this laundry was gonna get done and he was gonna make mulan proud. it’s not like he had anything else to do on a saturday night. might as well twerk it out to disney songs while his boxers dried. 

he was sorting through his clothes as he sung rather loudly along to the lyrics. he threw a glare over to that hellishly dark storage room while he worked as if that was going to stick it to whatever was hiding in there. 

“not today, satan,” lance called out. “i’m about to hit this chorus and your demonic ass is about to be shook.” 

lance was measuring out the detergent the minute the chorus dropped, and he really went in and stretched out those sixth grade glee club muscles. he had this song memorized for years – as every respectable millennial disney baby should – and he couldn’t help but start dancing around the room as he poured in his soap, danced over to his basket, and started throwing clothes in. 

“you’re a spineless, pale, pathetic, lot,” lance sang, really getting into character. “and you haaaaaven’t got a cluuuuuue – woah!” 

lance turned around to grab from the basket, and for a moment he thought it was a ghost standing in the doorway of the laundry room. but he realized it was just a girl – one he recognized, maybe from four doors down, he’s mad he can’t put a name to that head of dyed grey hair. she was holding her own laundry basket under her arm as she laughed at the performance he was unintentionally putting on for her. lance coughed into his arm and tried to play it off like he wasn’t totally making a damn fool of himself, but then the next verse of the song came on and the girl in front of him thoroughly surprised him. 

“i’m never gonna catch my breath,” she smirked. 

lance’s eyes widened. “say goodbye to those who knew me.” 

she dropped her basket on the laundry machine next to him. “boy was i a fool in school for cutting gym.” 

“this guy’s got ‘em scared to death!” 

“hope he doesn’t see right through me!” 

“boy i really wish that i knew how to swiiiiiiiim!” 

“BE A MAN!!!” 

they both roared into the chorus with so much overdramatic vigor that lance was sure people on the first floor could hear them. but who cares, this was a classic. and this super cute girl was seriously giving him a run for his money with how well she knew these lyrics. god, she even held that long note at the end of the chorus like a total champ. they let the song keep going on without them as they collapsed into laughter against the dryers. 

“oh god, i haven’t heard that song in a long while,” the girl laughed. 

“seriously?” lance gasped. “i watched mulan like…last week.” 

“it’s one of my favorite disney movies. well, that and aladdin. you can’t forget aladdin.” 

lance pounded on his chest. “princesses of color. represent.” 

the girl snorted into her hand and started to throw some of her sweaters into the washing machine. “sorry to interrupt you, but i had to jump in.” 

“oh please, you did me a favor. that harmonizing we had going on was…” lance pressed his fingers to his lips and made a loud chef’s kiss to the air, “perfecto.”

“well, singing is always better when you have company,” she said. “besides, i was sort of hoping there was someone else down here. this laundry room always creeps me out.”

“doesn’t it? i feel like someone is gonna pop out the shadows and kill me.” 

“i had a bloody nightmare about this basement the first time i came down here! swear on my life!” 

“well, if you ever need back up and a bomb ass disney playlist when you’re doing laundry, i’m your dude. that stuff helps.” 

allura grinned and shook her head at him as if she was surprised to see him suddenly standing in front of her. “i didn’t catch your name…” 

“lance,” he said, holding out his hand. “i feel like i’ve seen you before. i’m in 507 if that helps.” 

“allura,” she supplied. “and yes, i’ve definitely seen you going out for jogs early in the morning. i’m in 501.”

lance winked. “oh, well, hello neighbor. it was a pleasure dorking out to disney soundtracks with you.” 

allura bowed dramatically. “likewise. have you got anymore queued up?” 

“let’s see. i’ve got ‘be our guest,’ ‘friend like me,’ ‘let it go,’ and ‘i just can’t wait to be king.’ pick your poison.” 

“‘friend like me’ obviously,” allura scoffed. 

“right, right, aladdin junkie. why didn’t i realize sooner?” 

“jasmine was my spirit animal. i dressed up as her for halloween three years in a row back when my hair was still black. i was the splitting image of her.” 

“wait that’s so adorable. i’m so basic, i think i reused the same pirate costume for like five years.” 

“you were a pirate for five years?” 

“well, for the first year. next year i was a ghost pirate. then a zombie pirate. demon pirate. and a cuban pirate.” 

allura chuckled. “what on earth is a cuban pirate?” 

“a pirate with a cuban flag wrapped around his head that says truco o trato to all the gringos that answer the door.” 

he left her laughing so hard that she stumbled back a couple of steps and had to catch herself against the machine behind her. “are you like this all the time?” 

“please. this isn’t even me trying. you should wait until i really get the jokes going. you won’t survive.” 

allura shrugged. “i mean, i have to stay here until my clothes are done washing. so i’ve got nothing but time.” 

lance smiled. “alright. but remember. you asked.” 

“listen, if it keeps me occupied on a saturday night, i promise i won’t mind.” 

“well, if you eventually get tired of my jokes, i have aladdin on dvd back at my place. i could pop some popcorn and throw it on for us. i was getting kind of bored sitting in my apartment all day and laundry can only get so exciting.” 

allura bit her lip, distracting herself with loading the rest of her clothes. “i’d like that. i’ll bring blankets and some sweets i brought back from work.” 

“yes! sleepover! haven’t had one of those in a while.” 

“hm?” allura smirked, raising a brow. “want me to sleepover, do you? you ought to ask me to dinner first.” 

lance sputtered. “w-wha? no! no no. no, that’s not what i meant, no. totally platonic, buds being buds, watching a movie, five feet apart ‘cause we’re not gay.” 

“that’s a shame,” allura shrugged. “if you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask.” 

lance leaned into the start button on the washer at the same time she did and tried to play off the fervent jolt of excitement that lit up the length of his spine. “that was really smooth, allura.” 

she giggled. “why thank you.” 

“do you like takeout?” he offered. “i was thinking thai food.” 

“i’ll pay if you show me pictures of all of those pirate halloween costumes. i feel like i’m only going to believe this cuban pirate story if i see it for myself.” 

[sapphiretrams]

Get to Know Me Tag

I was kind of tagged by @intricately-silly? Like, I have a notification that I was mentioned??? Idk, but thanks if you did!

Rules: Post a pic of your simself with your traits and answer the questions!

Traits:  creative + good + music lover

1. What is your full name? Riley, and that’s all I’m gonna say

2. What is your nickname? I kinda gave myself the nickname RPS? You can also call me Trams cause of my url, I don’t mind.

3. When is your birthday? September 5

4. What is your favorite book series? Favorite book series... probably Harry Potter. I’m not obsessed with it (cause J.K. is kinda not a good person) but it’s one of the few series I remember reading.

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? Sure. I’m not a hardcore believer, and when I watch Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, I’m DEFINITELY a Shaniac, but I’m definitely not closed to the idea.

6. Who is your favorite author? Probably Charles Dickens or Shakespeare. I’m a sucker for that classic literature stuff.

7. What is your favorite radio station? Eh, I don’t really listen to the radio.

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? Lemon! It’s just SO good in all candy flavors, and I love it so much.

9. What word do you often use to describe something great or wonderful? Rad, awesome, cool, the usuals and occasionally terms that are super dated like tubular.

10. What is your favorite song currently? God that’s hard cause I love music so much... maybe Planetary (GO!) or Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) by MCR.

11. What is your favorite word? Petrichor

12. What is the last song you listened to? The Cage by Genesis

13. What TV show would you recommend everyone to watch? Forensic Files, it’s fascinating to me

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? I haven’t been one to watch movies when down so I don’t really have one

15. Do you play video games? Yep! I’ve been playing them a lot

16. What is your biggest fear? Being abandoned. It’s happened to me so often by friends that it’s just sort of become common place and I’m terrified of it.

17. What is your best quality in your opinion? My optimism!

18. What is your worst quality in your opinion? My inability to talk alshdafsdf I’m such a klutz at speaking

19. Do you like cats or dogs better? Dogs, though I do love cats.

20. What is your favorite season? Spring! Everything is turning green and flowering and it’s so refreshing to feel the rain on your face!

21. Are you in a relationship? Nope, I am tragically single

22. What is something you miss from your childhood? Having my parents read stories to me and my brothers, it was such a fun time in my childhood.

23. Who is your best friend? My friend Elli, a super cool nb person who’s been my friend for around 2 years now.

24. What is your eye color? Hazel

25. What is your hair color? Dark brown, though it’s been bleached and I would love to have green hair again.

26. Who is someone you love? Myself 💕

27. Who is someone you trust? My mom. She’s on my side no matter what, and she’s the first family member I told about my sexual and gender identity.

28. Who is someone you think about often? My ocs

29. Are you currently excited about something? Not really, I’m just kinda drifting atm

30. What is your biggest obsession? The Adventure Zone. It is SO. GOOD. I love the McElroys, and they mean a lot to me.

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child? The 1994 Spider-Man series. That SM has always been my favorite and he always will be.

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to? What’s a gender?

33. Are you superstitious? Sorta I guess

34. Do you have an unusual phobias? I HATE arteries and tendons. HATE HATE HATE them. They freak me out and I have to cover them up when I start getting freaked out by them. I’ve had this fear since I was a child.

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? Both baby!

36. What is your favorite hobby? Drawing!!!

37. What is the last book you read? Pieces of Happiness by Anne Ostby

38. What was the last movie you watched? Thor: Ragnorak

39. What musical instruments do you play? Violin, a little guitar, some piano?

40. What is your favorite animal? It’s hard for me to pick, but my favorite since I was a baby is a tiger.

41. What are your top five favorite Tumblr blogs? @viper-fish @berrybloomsims @lunacysims @mellindi @sim-borg

42. What super power do you wish you had? The power to refill stuff.

43. When and where do you feel most at peace? When I’m driving. There’s something about the freedom that just makes me feel so at peace, and I love feeling like I’m not restrained by anything.

44. What makes you smile? My dog. Everything about him just makes my heart swell

45. What sports do you play? I used to be a soccer champ when I was young.

46. What is your favorite drink? Diet Peach Snapple or Dr Pepper

47. When was the last time you wrote a handwritten letter or note to someone? When I was in like, 8th grade

48. Are you afraid of heights? Not really, though I was when I was younger.

49. What is your biggest pet peeve? I’m a very patient person, so probably when people talk to me when I wanna be left alone tbh.

50. Have you ever been to a concert? Yep. Maroon 5 was the last one. I hope to go to more too.

51. Are you vegetarian or vegan? Nah

52. When you were little what did you want to be when you grew up? A wild life veterinarian. I would throw my stuffed tiger down the stairs and “rescue” her.

53. What fictional world would you like to live in? The Adventure Zone: Balance world.

54. What is something you worry about? My dog since he’s getting up their in years, finding a college to go to and what I want to major in college, my bf’s safety, occasionally my parents when I’m paranoid and worried something might happen.

55. Are you scared of the dark? Nah. It’s nice. I’m more paranoid something might be in the dark, but,

56. Do you like to sing? Yes! I’m pretty decent at it, too, so I love it.

57. Have you ever skipped school? Yeah. I got really depressed when I was in high school and I stayed at home, calling in sick. Which I was, but it wasn’t entirely honest.

58. What is your favorite place on the planet? My desk, it has all my stuff on it and it’s cluttered to my liking.

59. Where would you like to live? Germany, or maybe France if I can learn the language. Maybe split the difference and move to Switzerland.

60. Do you have any pets? Just my baby boy TJ whom I adore.

61. Are you an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, though I’ve been making more of an effort to wake up early. I also get more done when I wake up early, cause it feels like I have more time to do things before noon.

62. Do you like sunrise or sunsets better? Sunsets, mostly cause I’m able to see them from my house.

63. Do you know how to drive? Yep!

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. I have headphones, but you can’t really wear them in public cause they get in the way.

65. Have you ever had braces? No, though I did have a chin strap when I was younger cause I had (and still have) an underbite.

66. What is your favorite genre of music? My music goes all over the place, but showtunes are my jam.

67. Who is your hero? 1994 Spider-Man. I specify because he’s really different from other versions, and he’s so smart and such a klutz and I grew up with him. I’ve been playing the new Spider-Man game for PS4 and I almost started crying from how close he is to MY SM, and he just reminds me of my morals.

68. Do you read comic books? Nah

69. What makes you the most angry? Politics atm. Don’t even talk to me about them. I don’t like being angry and any talk about the current political situation is just infuriating. 

70. Do you prefer to read real books or on an electric device? Either, though real books hold a special aesthetic to them.

71. What is your favorite subject in school? English. Like I said, I’m a literary nerd.

72. Do you have any siblings? Two, an older and a younger brother.

73. What was the last thing you bought? Ariana Grande’s song No Tears Left to Cry

74. How tall are you? 5′ 7″, perfectly average

75. Can you cook? Eh, I can do the basic stuff, and if I have a recipe in front of me then sure, but otherwise? Don’t ask.

76. What are three things that you love? My dog, myself, my mom.

77. What are three things that you hate? Politics, White™ people, being expected to know things I was never told about (cough cough @ my boss)

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? Honestly, I have more nb friends than either

79. What is your sexual orientation? Pansexual

80. Where do you currently live? The Midwest

81. Who was the last person you texted? My mom

82. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday because I was laughing so goddamn hard

83. Who is your favorite youtuber? Game Grumps and you can fight me on that

84. Do you like to take selfies? Yep! I’m hot and I know it. I’ve hated myself for 5 years, I deserve to be infatuated with myself.

85. What is your favorite app? Monster Girl Creator. It’s so fun.

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? My mom and I are super close, but my dad and I... eh. It’s kinda damaged, though it’s better than it was when I was in high school. He doesn’t understand LGBT stuff or depression so he was just... awful.

87. What is your favorite foreign accent? Probably French, but the funniest to try and do is Russian. I suck at it and it turns into Italian after a while.

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to but want to visit? God I want to travel so bad. I’d love to go to Puerto Rico, France, Germany, Italy, Brazil, Vietnam... so many beautiful places.

89. What is your favorite number? Three

90. Can you juggle? Not for my life

91. Are you religious? I’ve kinda been burned out of religion cause my childhood church was really just... bad. I came out as bi to them when I was a sophomore and it caused a HUGE scene with the church. I was called ‘a slap to the face,’ people left the church, it was just bad. I’m spiritual, but not religious, though my life’s not over yet, so who knows.

92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? Space. Space space space. Do you know how badly I want to go to space? I almost became an engineer just so I could go to space.

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? I’m pretty tame, in all honesty, though I do some stupid shit every now and then.

94. Are you allergic to anything? Bullshit, any and every kind of body soap known to man kind, and pollen.

95. Can you curl your tongue? Yes! I can do the double fold think with your tongue where it looks like a scoop chip, you know what I mean?

96. Can you wiggle your ears? Nah

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? I come from a really stubborn household, though lately I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to be humble and just admit I’m wrong. It’s hard.

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? Forest. I’ve only been to the beach twice in my life so it’s not really my scene.

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? Do what makes you happy

100. Are you a good liar? I’ve gotten very good at it. I’m not proud of that fact, but I’ve gotten very very good at it.

101. What is your Hogwarts house? Slyterin. No, I’m not joking.

102. Do you talk to yourself? All the time.

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? I’m an introvert, though I think I’m more of an ambivert.

104. Do you keep a journal or a diary? Nah.

105. Do you believe in second chances? Yes, but you really can’t give them out really freely. You have to judge who you want to give them to.

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? Check for an ID and try to contact the person it belongs to. But if there’s no ID, probably give it to the nearest business or police station.

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? With most things. If they really wanted to.

108. Are you ticklish? Ye

109. Have you ever been on a plane? Yeah, but not many times. My first time on a plane was 4 years ago.

110. Do you have any piercings? Just the basic earlobe pierecings, but I really really want more.

111. What fictional character do you wish was real? Shiro from Voltron, aka my husband. 

112. Do you have any tattoos? No but I want so many

113. What is the best decision that you have made so far? Learning to love myself. It took a lot of time, but I’m so happy I did it

114. Do you believe in karma? Not entirely, but I think there’s some truth to it.

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? I  have bad eyes, so yeah, I wear glasses. I tried contacts, but they got irritating to put in after a while.

116. Do you want children? SO badly. I want a little girl so fucking bad

117. Who is the smartest person you know? My little brother. He wants to be a freaking accountant when he’s older.

118. What is your most embarrassing memory? I went to a museum one time, and they had a cool dinosaur tour or whatever, and I wanted to know what the dinosaur Parasaurolophus was called, but I forgot the name and only remebered like, Ducky from Land Before Time, and Phineas and Ferb had just started airing, so I asked the guy if a platypus was a dinosaur and that haunts me to this day

119. Have you ever pulled an all nighter? Yes. Don’t do it.

120. What color are most of your clothes? Blue cause it’s always looked good on me, but now any color looks good on me cause I know how to own it.

121. Do you like adventures? Yeah man! I love them!

122. Have you ever been on TV? Not that I know of

123. How old are you? 20

124. What is your favorite quote?  “When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” -Griffin Mcelroy

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? Sweeeets!

I tag @viper-fish @berrybloomsims and @lunacysims

[highschoolharrier]

Justin Wrigley is the coach of St. Thomas Aquinas High School in Kansas who currently is riding an impressive state championship win streak and looks to be in contention for a bid to NXN via the Heartland region.

High School Harrier: Your teams are entering the year with recent state championship winning streaks there in Kansas. Can you say a little about how your team has attained that level of excellence?

Justin Wrigley: Our boys team has won four straight state titles and the girls finished third last year which ended a streak of five straight state titles. I definitely believe that the biggest factor for our success is the team culture. There are no magic workouts and there is no magic mileage that guarantees success. Every program is somewhat different in those areas but what has been working the best for us is the team culture.  We have had an incredible level of buy-in from the kids over the years and that has helped us achieve many of our goals. We've been blessed with large numbers of kids that are fun, positive and hard working. Because of that, Saints cross country has become a really great place to be. The cross country kids really like being around each other and even though all of the training is a great commitment of time and effort, I think that they just really like doing it together and so we are seeing the benefit of that when we race. It's really awesome that there are so many kids with the same attitude about the sport and the training process. The key is keeping it fun and positive because negativity can tear the whole thing down really fast. We are just like every other high school in the country, we have to always be on the lookout for negativity and try to change those types of behaviors before it does damage to our culture. It is a never-ending process but it's the true key to success in cross country.

HSH: State is 2 weeks before the NXR Heartland meet.  Do you think this is too far away, not far enough away or a good amount of time between the two?

JW: I think two weeks is just about perfect! I think that period of time allows kids to celebrate state and also sharpen back up physically and emotionally for NXR. When we first started making the trip to NXR, I don't think that anyone on our team managed the post-state emotions really well. We'd get too up for state and had nothing left in the emotional tank up at NXR despite being physically ready. When we started taking larger groups up to NXR and changed some of the ways we thought about the postseason, we saw our teams improve dramatically at the Heartland meet. Putting NXR on the calendar and planning to attend well before the season even starts has really helped the way our kids prepare emotionally and psychologically and that has really helped. I also think it's really important to get your sub varsity kids to the NXR open races. Those open races are more competitive than almost any state meet and so you're giving sub varsity kids a championship caliber meet to shoot for while also extending their training season by several weeks and getting them experience for when they become your varsity in the NXR championship race. I can't see any negative side to getting as many kids as possible to the NXR meet.

HSH: Do your boys and girls train together?

JW: Yes, we usually have 80-100 kids on our team in any given year and we do everything together. We split up into training groups for workouts but we'll often have girls and boys training together if they are similar in fitness and ability. Our top girl, Olivia Sovereign, trains with the boys. She has a little brother on the team and they push each other really hard in workouts. It is pretty awesome.

HSH: How does your team set their goals each year?

JW: We start each summer with goal meetings. We vote for the captains for the next season at the end of the current season and oftentimes the first official duty of the new captains is to schedule and organize our goal meetings in early June. We have separate meetings for the boys and girls teams even though we do most stuff together.  At that meeting we sit around for about an hour and try to have an open conversation about the types of things we want to accomplish. We have a follow up meeting with our kids at our team camp in mid-July. Recently, we've made our goals more about team culture rather than race outcomes and I feel like that is taking the program in a really cool direction. This season we're trying to make our season focus on being selfless in everything we do.

HSH: Is there anyone on your team that you feel is ready to have a breakout year?

JW: I sure hope so, hahaha!  We have had the type of summer that makes a coach really excited about the upcoming season. We have seen a lot of kids running very consistently and so I'm feeling pretty confident that some guys and girls will be stepping up and making a big impact this fall.  I'd love to name some names but I'd probably end up upsetting anyone I did not mention so I better just keep quiet and we will have to wait and see who goes out there and proves themselves this fall!

HSH: What regular season meet are you most looking forward to and why?

JW: The Rim Rock Classic is always one of the highlights of our season. It's a huge meet on the state meet course and in addition to most of the Kansas teams attending, we will also get to see many of the teams from around the heartland and midwest regions. We also get some teams from Colorado and Texas most years. Unfortunately, Kansas has a rule that nobody from outside of 500 miles of our border can attend our events but maybe someday that will change.  In the meantime, this meet is the biggest draw in Kansas every year and I love to get varsity, jv and c-team kids experience on our state meet course so when their time comes, they know the course very well. This year we will also be traveling up to Roy Griak in Minnesota. Usually that meet falls on Rim Rock weekend and we don't go because we don't want to pass up the chance to race on our state meet course but this year the schedule lined up a little different so we'll be going there to get a little preview of the Heartland region. There are so many good teams at Griak and it will be a great mid-season check up on how we're progressing towards our postseason goals. My buddy, Jason Druten of West Torrance, California is bringing his boys to Griak so it will be really fun to hang out with him and go toe to toe with his guys. They were the CIF D3 champs last year and we have a strong bond with their team.

HSH: For us who are not from Kansas, what is the qualifying process for state?

JW: The Kansas qualifying process is about as simple as it gets. For each classification (we have 6 of them in KS) there are four regional meets, geographically separated and the top three teams from each region qualify for state.  Classes 3A, 5A and 6A compete at Rim Rock Farm, one of the nation's most beautiful courses and classes 1A, 2A and 4A compete at the Wamego golf course. Both courses have their share of challenging hills at critical points of the race. Don't let anyone tell you that Kansas doesn't have any hills!

HSH: Do you have a motto or mantra for your program?

JW: We have two and we use them all of the time! Our cultural motto is, "Take care of each other" and our training and racing motto is, "B.A.U.," which simply means, "business as usual."  Both mottos are pretty simple but they both accomplish a great amount of good when people actually live the mottos.  Culturally, we want cross country to be something that everyone enjoys and feels good about. Running is hard and so is high school. Every day is not going to be your best day. We want people to be there for each other and help them get through the tough times. In doing so, we will all make each other better and then we'll have people with us to also celebrate the good times.  When we speak about B.A.U., we're talking about doing things the right way, every day. We want our process to become a habit. If we can accomplish that, then when we get to the postseason we can take a lot of the pressure off by reminding the kids that all they have to do is simply keep doing things the way they always have. There is no pressure to do anything special in the postseason and because of that we tend to run really well because our kids are not pressing to do anything more than usual. Both mottos are lifestyle goals and I think they are very helpful in how we approach things.  

HSH: What component of your program do you think is the biggest factor in the success of your team?

JW: Every coach probably says this but I believe that the biggest factor in our success has to be team culture. Getting the athletes to buy in to what we are trying to accomplish and how we need to go about our business is so important. On top of that, the even bigger factor is easily how much the kids grow to care about each other through the process. When we get a lot of kids sharing in the experience and working together, they develop this unbreakable bond that just seems to work wonders when they get to the toughest part of their races. They want so badly to contribute to the shared success that they'll do anything for each other.  Although only 7 boys and 7 girls get to race at the state meet, we take the entire team to the meet (usually 80-100 kids).  We bus them out to Rim Rock and they cover the course in blue and gold and give us an enormous advantage. Matt Hallauer, one of our assistant coaches, organizes that group to be the best state meet support crew around. He has laminated maps for every kid and details on the best places to cheer and how to navigate the farm so you can get to as many places as possible. We have people cheering for our kids on every step of the course and right now no one else in Kansas can match that. When we finish the state meet, we share that moment with every single kid on our team. Everyone that has worn the blue and gold in competition that year can proudly say that they helped contribute to our success. We wait until the awards ceremony is over and then we put our entire team on the podium. Kids that can't yet break 25 minutes get to stand on the podium and hold the state trophy. That's pretty powerful and I think that kind of experience for a high school cross country runner is priceless.

HSH: What was your biggest learning moment as a coach, pertaining to how you coach or the way you train your athletes?

JW: I can actually pinpoint this moment to the winter of 2011. I had been the head cross country coach for five years and finally decided to do an exact study of how much we were running in the off season. At the time we had not started logging our training yet so after investigating, it turned out that even our most dedicated athletes were only running about 55% of the days in the winter. This came as a big shock to me as I assumed the number would be much higher. So we started logging our training and pushing for greater accountability and consistency. The biggest change we had to make was getting kids to run over the weekends and switch to taking days off only when needed rather than automatically putting them on the calendar every week for no reason at all. This increase in consistency had a huge payoff for us. Starting in 2012, we won five girls team titles and four boys team titles with five girls and three boys individual champions. That winter was an epiphany that has changed our program in a major way. Consistency is the key!

HSH: What steps do you take to ensure your top athletes progress each year?

JW: I think being present and available for all of our athletes all year long is probably the most important thing I can do as a coach. Consistency and accountability are critical to progressing as a runner so if I want the kids to train with any level of consistency then I better show up as well.  For Saint Thomas Aquinas, that means having a regular off season training program for both the summer and the winter, showing up on weekends and coaching track & field in the spring. On top of that, logging our training and keeping an eye on the training logs to make sure each kid is progressing at the proper rate is also important. And finally, just planning sound training progressions for each kid based on age and experience so you can gradually push them more as they get more experience.

HSH: How much volume does your team get during the summer?

JW: We build up very gradually, perhaps too gradually compared to some but by the end of the summer we like to have our upperclassmen in the 50-70 miles per week range. Sophomores could be anywhere from 30-60 depending on the kid and freshmen are all over the place but the really dedicated ones might be in the 30-45 range. All of this, of course, depends greatly on training age and experience of the individuals. Like I said, we're just like every other team so we're also going to have our share of kids that show up on day one that have not run a step all summer.  Managing all these kids is important and you can't just expect any single kid to fit to a broad training scheme.

HSH: What do you feel helps your program buy into the team concept so effectively?

JW: That is a great question. Sometimes I wonder why all of these kids are doing this because it is hard. Cross country is simple, but it is hard. Anyone that thinks cross country is easy is doing it wrong.  My very best guess at what helps kids buy in is simply other kids.  I think that once some kids take that leap of faith with us and then they not only see some success but experience a lot of fun, then they become our best sales-people. They are the ones that go out and convince other kids to do the same. People want to have fun and they want to succeed, those are both basic ideas that appeal to all humans. So if kids see a bunch of kids doing those things, they become intrigued in doing so too, even though it require so much hard work and sacrifice of time and effort.

HSH: I am a freshman joining your cross country program.  What will my training and racing look like this fall?

JW: As a freshman, the top focus of our coaching staff would be to ensure that you are having fun and enjoying the sport. We're going to be real cautious with what we throw at you in terms of volume and intensity. The first thing we'll do when the season starts is analyze your summer and plan out the progression of the season based on what you did or did not do in the summer.  Freshmen typically race every weekend because we want to gain experience at running 5k and because most kids join a team to participate. The freshmen won't take any bye weeks like the varsity kids.  

HSH: What is your favorite workout to have your runners perform and why?

JW: Are you ready for the most boring answer of all time? Because my favorite workout to do with our runners is threshold intervals, or what Jack Daniels calls "cruise intervals."  And this is something we do almost weekly all year long with our distance runners. We create variety by adjusting the length of the intervals but we typically do a total of 20-30 minutes of total volume and always at what Daniels defines as threshold pace. I just feel really good about the adaptation that comes from this level of stress on a consistent basis. Of course, a close runner up would be regular tempo and progressive runs.  We're working really hard at improving our progressive runs and the kids are really starting to enjoy them more now.  We were pretty bad at starting too fast or progressing too much, too soon when we first started doing these runs. Now that the kids have a better handle on the pacing, they really enjoy them and gain a great deal of confidence.

Photo courtesy of Justin Wrigley.

[placetobenation]

So, the WWE Draft has now come and gone for 2020. The rosters of RAW and SmackDown have been reset for another year. Yeah, I know what you’re all thinking though. For how long? How long will it be until we get our first Brand Invitational Visit? It won’t be long as we all know that whatever rules the WWE sets, they’re only a day or two away from breaking them.

On the whole, it looks like SmackDown is set to continue as the best show in the WWE. The major champions stay the same with Drew McIntyre on RAW and Roman Reigns on SmackDown. The tag team champions just change places but keep their title belts. Most feuds stay intact too, something we’ll get into more in our show recaps. So, with SmackDown being the hot “it” show going into the Draft, it stays that way heading out of the Draft.

Now, it’ll be nice to see Charlotte Flair back on Monday nights after her vacation ends. Not nice to see The New Day get split up. That’s no Bueno, IMHO! I hope there’s a trade in the near future to put Big E back with the new RAW Tag Team Champions.

I am VERY excited to see the Draft now be put in the rear-view mirror so we can go full steam into the Hell In A Cell PPV with three gigantic main event-like matches inside Hell In A Cell, highlighted Bayley vs. Sasha Banks in what should tear the house down to close out the night. It’s time to turn up the turbo and get to the task at hand.

Star of the Week: WWE Draft, night 2

Round 1⃣. In the books.#WWERaw #WWEDraft pic.twitter.com/GFAZrTuVtg

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

#WWEDraft Round 2⃣:#WWERaw: @BraunStrowman @SuperKingOfBros @JEFFHARDYBRAND #SmackDown: @WWEDanielBryan @FightOwensFight pic.twitter.com/zEnsrASCf3

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

#RETRIBUTION is #WWERaw.@RealKeithLee is #WWERaw.@AlexaBliss_WWE is #WWERaw!@LarsSWWE is #SmackDown. King @BaronCorbinWWE is #SmackDown! #WWEDraft pic.twitter.com/UK60DwMgby

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

Round 4⃣ complete. What has been the biggest #WWEDraft shocker of the night so far? #WWERaw pic.twitter.com/7TcCdUScvg

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

ROUND 5 of the #WWEDraft is complete. #WWERaw pic.twitter.com/1IhYEkUYbV

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) October 13, 2020

6⃣ rounds done. Tune into the Free Version of @WWENetwork after #WWERaw for additional #WWEDraft picks to be made on #RAWTalk! pic.twitter.com/iQSsMXnVCt

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

RAW

RESULTS

No Disqualification Match: Kevin Owens defeated Aleister Black

Triple Threat Match: AJ Styles defeated Jeff Hardy & Seth Rollins

Dana Brooke & Mandy Rose defeated Natalya & Lana

Angel Garza defeated Andrade

RAW Tag Team Championship Match: The New Day defeated Bobby Roode & Dolph Ziggler

Ricochet defeated Cedric Alexander by DQ

Dual Brand Battle Royale for #1 Contender to RAW Women’s Championship Match: Lana eliminates Natalya

Overall:

The exchange is official:@TrueKofi & @AustinCreedWins are now your #WWERaw #TagTeamChampions, and The #StreetProfits @AngeloDawkins & @MontezFordWWE are your #SmackDown #TagTeamChampions! pic.twitter.com/54A2g8X3fw

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

A decent show that’s always somewhat off-kilter when it’s a Draft Night. In-ring, the triple threat with AJ Styles, Jeff Hardy and Seth Rollins was cool to say with Rollins giving the Styles/Hardy feud get a little life. Ricochet vs. Alexander, albeit short, is always good stuff. The same can be said for Owens vs. Black. BTW: like the KUSHIDA-like jeans look for Owens too. But there were enough things that didn’t make enough sense that brought the show down. In addition, it seems like the thinking going into the draft is to just shift storylines in their entirety to another night. In addition to Styles & Hardy going to Monday, Rollins vs. Murphy vs. the Mysterios move to SmackDown. Aleister Black vs. Kevin Owens heads to Friday night. Alexa Bliss & The Fiend are now a pair on Monday night. 

LOVED IT:

So this is love, mmm mmmm.#WWERaw @WWEBrayWyatt @AlexaBliss_WWE pic.twitter.com/qsyDhRkHoY

— WWE (@WWE) October 13, 2020

The Fiend & Alexa – Does anything really need to be said?

No sense at all:

Same tbh #WWERAW pic.twitter.com/OKcBkjSUBN

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) October 13, 2020

Lana – So, Lana gets left by Natalya and then wins the Dual Brand Battle Royal to win a title shot against Asuka?! Huh, WTF. She got put through a table and then comes back at the end? She hasn’t won in forever and now is the #1 Contender? Yikes! No one, I repeat, NO ONE wants to see that. Knowing the WWE and their wacky booking on Monday night, she’ll win.

CLASSIC! #WWERaw (via @WWE)pic.twitter.com/ZwkstZLzea

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) October 13, 2020

Cedric vs. Ricochet – A DQ finish to a match that already didn’t make sense was absurd. So, now The Hurt Business can’t touch Ricochet now because of a DQ finish? I did like the nod to Eddie Guerrero and the fake chair shot though.

RETRIBUTION – They get drafted? Seriously? They vow to destroy the place, get contracts and then get drafted but don’t appear on the show at all even though they advertised Mustafa Ali telling us all why he formed RETRIBUTION. To make things more absure, they get drafter on RAW before Keith Lee, the returning Elias, Alexa Bliss, Lacey Evans, Lars Sullivan, King Corbin, Cesaro, Shinsuke Nakamura, Sheamus among others. No. Sense. At. All!

How long?

Drew vs. Randy – Are these going to be fighting every segment from now until the PPV?

NXT

RESULTS

NXT Tag Team Championship #1 Contender Tag Match: The Undisputed Era (Roderick Strong & Bobby Fish) defeated Oney Lorcan & Danny Burch

Jake Atlas defeated Ashante “Thee” Adonis

Johnny Gargano defeated Austin Theory

NXT Women’s Championship #1 Contender Match: Candice LeRae defeated Shotzi Blackheart

Toni Storm defeated Aliyah

Imperium defeated Killian Dain & Drake Maverick

NXT Championship Match: Damian Priest defeated Dexter Lumis

LOVED IT:

.@JohnnyGargano: I HATE WHEELS!@ShotziWWE:

Trick or treat, Mr. & Mrs. Wrestling. #WWENXT #HalloweenHavoc pic.twitter.com/dBKjPTzu6m

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) October 15, 2020

Halloween Havoc – Loved that Spin The Wheel, Make The Deal is coming back with Halloween Havoc on October 28th. Shotzi Blackheart is a great choice as host too. Perfect fit!

Every single emotion was felt in that

match! #WWENXT @CandiceLeRae @ShotziWWE pic.twitter.com/g1B7rWTSMj

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) October 15, 2020

Candice vs. Shotzi – What’s not too like? Plus, Indi Hartwell is getting closer to Candice with a nifty brass knuckles assistance to hand LeRae the victory over Shotzi (see what I did there!). It’s going to be delicious months from now when Hartwell turns on LeRae too!

SOLID:

Overall – Week in and week out, I give credit to NXT for consistently being the best wrestling show on Wednesday nights. For example, The Undisputed ERA vs. Lorcan/Burch was an effective way to start the night. Good match and moved the storyline ahead. Sometimes, NXT can be a bit formulaic and sometimes, there are a few too many short matches for my taste, but it’s getting better and better showcasing some new names every week. Think about it, on Wednesday night there was no Adam Cole, Finn Balor, Io Shirai, Rhea Ripley, KUSHIDA, The Velveteen Dream, Tommaso Ciampa and of course, Karrion Kross & Scarlett. Yet, Priest, the Garganos and others are taking up the spotlight to make it an entertaining show, Kudos to them. BTW: Priest reminds me of a young Roman Reigns.

KICKSTART OUR

! Toni Storm is VICTORIOUS in her #WWENXT return against the #RobertStoneBrand's @WWE_Aliyah! @RobertStoneWWE pic.twitter.com/PCRb129o2q

— WWE (@WWE) October 15, 2020

Women’s Division – The best division on the WWE only gets stronger with Toni Storm! Her match was short but impressive and re-starts her in-ring journey with NXT on a positive note.

Question:

William Regal – How come Regal is the only authority figure on WWE Programming? And no, I’m not counting Adam Pearce who’s never been formally introduced in any formal capacity on TV. He’s just there all the time butting into things.

"Nobody hits YOU but ME." – @KillianDain to @WWEMaverick Awwwwww.

#WWENXT pic.twitter.com/4Q5APX7eCg

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) October 15, 2020

Drake & Killian – If they don’t ultimately end up with the tag team titles, what is all this worth? Unusual tandems can work (Booker T/Goldust, Rock & Sock Connection, Kane & Daniel Bryan, etc), but it’s best when they are leading to something. I’m not quite sure where this team is going.

SMACKDOWN

RESULTS

Lars Sullivan defeated Jeff Hardy

The New Day defeated Cesaro, Shinsuke Nakamura & Sheamus

SmackDown Tag Team Title Match: The Street Profits defeated Dolph Ziggler & Robert Roode

Universal Championship Match: Roman Reigns defeated Braun Strowman

Heelish:

"YOU LOVE ME? I LOVE YOU TOO!" – Jey @WWEUSOs #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/2FdbtFiNeI

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) October 17, 2020

Roman Reigns – It’s all about the little things. Reigns with another low blow Friday night against Braun Strowman, much like he did to cousin Jey Uso a few weeks back. A submission guillotine to beat Braun ties in nicely to the I Quit Match for Hell In A Cell. “If I can do this to him (Strowman), imagine what I can do to you.” Frightening! It’s so personal. It’s so terrific. In one breathe, Reigns says he loves Uso and in the other he vows to destroy him. “You love me? I love you too” from Jey before a resonating chair shot to the Champ ends the show. This storyline is the best thing going and gets better week by week.  

Sad:

One last time…

#ThankYouNewDay #SmackDown @TrueKofi @WWEBigE @AustinCreedWins pic.twitter.com/33mXYpgl8t

— WWE (@WWE) October 17, 2020

.@WWEBige after tonight. #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/O0TyRexRsr

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) October 17, 2020

The New Day – There was no reason to break up the funniest trio going in the biz. It was touching to see them talk about their friendship, the journey and their time together. It didn’t need to end and I hope the right the wrong soon. As for Friday night, they go out the right way, on top over Cesaro, Sheamus and Shinsuke Nakamura.

Give Me More:

HERE WE GO!!!#SmackDown @WWEDanielBryan @WWERollins pic.twitter.com/V0YeenVTql

— WWE (@WWE) October 17, 2020

Seth Rollins vs. Daniel Bryan – This one could be very good if they let. The goodness of Bryan vs. the diabolical nature of Rollins. The in-ring action alone could be off the charts! Sign me up! And who knows, maybe sometime next year, we could get a mixed tag-team match of Rollins & Becky vs. Bryan & Brie!

Fighting Words:

"At Hell in a Cell, I'm going to end you!" The tension between @itsBayleyWWE and @SashaBanksWWE is at an all-time high. #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/LLWP6TTtkn

— WWE (@WWE) October 17, 2020

Sasha vs. Bayley – Loved. Loved. Loved the raw emotion and heat between Sasha Banks and Bayley. The killer line from Banks – “My name is bigger than your title.” Classic and true! There was no need to end this contract signing with fisticuffs. KISS! Plus, Bayley didn’t sign the contract yet. We know she will, but it adds some intrigue for the moment. BTW: when did Adam Pearce become America’s host to everything WWE? At some point, they should actually introduce who he is to the audience.

Celebrities:

Season premiere night – Nice touch having all the FOX Sports personalities like Terry Bradshaw, Tony Gonzalez, Jay Glazer, Curt Menefee, Rob Stone and more be part of the broadcast. Plus, Ken Jeong, Joel McHale and 49ers tight end George Kittle brought a little star power too. Finally, the addition of Goldberg, Keith Lee, Mark Henry, Brie Bella and others as part of the ThunderDome crowd makes it special. TV Production 101 kids.

Remember when?

Triple H and Stephanie – Remember when The Authority were such awesome characters? Remember when Triple H and Stephanie were two of the most despised people on WWE TV? Remember when they weren’t just pitch-people? I miss those days.

Parting shots:

Hell In A Cell PPV – Updated Card

WWE Championship Hell In A Cell Match: Drew McIntyre vs Randy Orton

Universal Championship Hell In A Cell I Quit Match: Roman Reigns vs. Jey Uso

SmackDown Women’s Championship Hell In A Cell Match: Bayley vs. Sasha Banks

NXT Halloween Havoc – Updated Card:

NXT Women’s Championship Spin The Wheel, Make The Deal Match: Io Shirai vs. Candice LeRae

NXT North American Championship Spin The Wheel, Make The Deal Match: Damian Priest vs. Johnny Gargano

Rhea Ripley vs. Raquel Gonzalez

Coming up this week:

RAW: Season Premiere: Braun Strowman vs. Keith Lee RAW Women’s Championship Match: Asuka vs. Lana Firefly Fun House Drew McIntyre & Randy Orton

NXT: NXT Tag Team Championship Match: Breezango vs. The Undisputed Era

SMACKDOWN: Moves to FS1 due to World Series Go Home Show for Hell In A Cell PPV

Thanks for letting us share our thoughts! Shoot me an email at jcrowe567@gmail.com. We’d love to hear your comments and suggestions! You can also check out my blog, The Crowe’s Nest as we delve into more pro wrestling, sports entertainment and the World of Sports. My apologies ahead of time – I AM a Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins fan! If you’re not down with that, I’ve got TWO WORDS for you… NEW ENGLAND

[auburnfamilynews]

John Reed-USA TODAY Sports

Is this going to be a typical Auburn year? They’re all typical Auburn years!

Things are shaping up this offseason for Auburn to have the kind of year that we all felt in our hearts, but never expected in our brains. What are the biggest questions that fans around the country might have about our beloved Tigers on the eve of College Football’s Week Zero?

1. HOW WILL BO NIX HANDLE THE PRESSURE OF BEING A TRUE FRESHMAN STARTING QUARTERBACK IN THE SEC?

This is the moment that Bo Nix has been waiting for his entire life. He grew up in a household led by a former Auburn quarterback, and a (at the time) current college football coordinator. Bo’s been groomed by his father to take the reins in the backfield at Auburn since the moment he was born. It’s true that there may be some pressure because this will very well be the end-all, be-all of his adolescent mind’s eye, but he looks to be unflappable.

We’ve heard in practice that he’s a bit of a gunslinger, but that he’s got all the tools to make the plays necessary to let the rest of the team thrive. He can move, and I think he’ll surprise the rest of the country when he takes off for the first time. There’s no throw on the field he can’t make, and once he takes that first hit, the pressure will be gone and he’s just playing football.

Count me in as one of those who think that the quarterback play won’t be what holds Auburn back this year, but as one element of the team that’ll elevate the success of the Tigers in 2019.

2. CAN THE OFFENSIVE LINE IMPROVE ENOUGH TO GIVE AUBURN A SHOT AT THE SEC WEST?

The evidence would say “yes”.

When Auburn won the West in 2017, 2013, 2010, and 2004, it was largely because of a superbly-experienced offensive line. Think juniors and seniors across the board. Think hundreds of combined starts for the group paving the way. We may all be a little gun-shy after what we saw last season, but that’s happened before. The offensive line struggled in 2003, 2009, 2012, and 2016 at times, but it came together enough with another year as a unit to turn into a strength for the team. With five starters back, and a couple of guys that could end up being drafted, this is a talented and cohesive unit now. If practice gossip is to be believed, then they’ve held their own against the Auburn defensive front, which is no small task. We’ll need them to be good to keep Bo’s jersey clean in his first season under center.

3. WHY IS THIS THE BEST DEFENSIVE LINE IN THE COUNTRY

Talent, experience, hunger.

First of all, this ain’t your Tuberville diamond-in-the-rough group of guys. Derrick Brown, Marlon Davidson, and T.D. Moultry were all five-star players out of high school by one publication or another. Nick Coe and Big Kat Bryant weren’t scrubs either. Only Tyrone Truesdell stands alone as an unheralded recruit, but he’s turned into a favorite of Rodney Garner and he’s shown that he can work with the best of them to earn a spot.

This is also a group that’s seen it all. Marlon Davidson started as a true freshman against eventual national champ Clemson in 2016, while Derrick Brown really became a key piece the next season. Nick Coe’s been around for years, and Moultry/Bryant have a year under their belts and plenty of knowledge as a part of the best group in the land.

Furthermore, there’s no offensive line that can stand up to winning one-on-one battles with each of these guys every snap. You can’t double Brown, because then someone else is a spin move away from the sack. You can’t try to slide in front of Nick Coe, because then you’re leaving Davidson to slash inside.

And lastly, these guys all came back. They could be in the NFL right now, but they knew there were special things going on at Auburn right now. This is a chance for a championship, and they made an executive decision to forego immediate money and make history on the Plains. You don’t come back to suck.

4. HOW WILL THIS YEAR TURN INTO A CLASSIC AUBURN OUT-OF-NOWHERE CHAMPIONSHIP CAMPAIGN?

We’ve touched on a few of these reasons above, but the last three times Auburn won the West, it was with a first-year starter at quarterback (Cam, Nick Marshall, Jarrett Stidham), an offensive line with a ton of combined starts, and a defense that had leadership and experience. Couple that with the fact that we get our two biggest games at home and you’ve got the recipe for what we saw in November 2017.

Auburn will almost assuredly have a crazy game or two (how could road trips to College Station, Gainesville, and Baton Rouge not produce drama?), but we had nail-biters every week in 2010 and won it all.

Also, the Tigers do have history of performing well when the expectations are down. Starting the season ranked 16th puts them right into that sweet spot where you’re not showin’ off, not fallin’ behind. It all depends on a few key developments, but if those happen, we’re getting a bananas year. On the other hand...

5. HOW SUCCESSFUL MUST AUBURN BE TO RETAIN GUS MALZAHN IN 2020?

It could all fall apart. The schedule’s among the toughest in the country, and we don’t give ourselves much time to figure it out since we open with Oregon. If injuries occur, of if certain players play like freshmen, then it could turn into a long year. Gus seems to think that he’s got something he likes, though, and he’s calling plays again, so he wants to make this year all his own.

Still, Auburn likely has to be 9-3 for people to be satisfied. However, if those three losses are @ LSU, Georgia, and Alabama, then the restlessness still comes. If Gus wants to fully secure himself a spot at Auburn in 2020, he needs to go at least 10-2 in the regular season to quiet all critics. That means he needs to win in Baton Rouge and break that bad voodoo streak, split Georgia and Alabama, and only have one loss to either Oregon, A&M, or Florida.

Anything less and you’ll hear the grumbling begin.

Overall, this is going to be a classic Auburn year. It’s going to be wild. It starts eight days from now, so enjoy it when it’s here! War Eagle!

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/8/23/20830125/five-big-questions-for-auburn-football-in-2019