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callsign-magnolia · 2 years

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I Hope You Dance // Ch. 43

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss. VIOLENCE this chapter is especially violent so please be cautious when reading!

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 6.2k

Chapter 42 | Masterlist

After a few minutes of him holding me, I pulled back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? Especially early.” He sighed, leaning down to grab his bag. “We had to go dark after our last call. But Mav found out we were coming back early and sent Bob to get me.” I smiled. “That’s why he sprinted out the door without an explanation.” He nodded. “Well I’m making lunch right now, fried chicken salads with homemade ranch.” He hummed, resting his forehead on mine. “That sounds like heaven.” I nodded, reaching for the bag strap but he stopped me. “Come on. I’ll toss this in the washer while you go shower.” He shook his head. “Showered before I got off the ship earlier, so I just need to change clothes. How about you make lunch while I toss this in the washer, then I’ll change and we can eat.” I nodded, smiling widely. “Okay.” He went to walk by me when I stopped him, grabbing his glove clad hand. “Damn, you really do look good in your dress whites.” I said as I ran my hand down his chest. “Just a few minutes, pretty girl and I’ll give you all the attention you want.” He said before placing a kiss to my forehead. I held his hand as we walked into the kitchen, not letting go when he made the turn to go into the laundry room.

“Mags?” I hummed as he looked down at me. “You have to let go of my hand.” He said as a grin threatened to split his face in two. “Hm, but I really don’t want to.” He just chuckled, gently kissing my forehead before dropping my hand. I went back to the counter, chopping veggies while Bradley went upstairs to change. He looked absolutely dreamy in his dress whites; it made me giddy to think that’s what he’ll be wearing as we stood on opposite ends of the aisle. I was startled by arms wrapping around my waist, a bare chest pressed against my back. “Looks delicious.” He whispered in my ear, pressing a kiss to the back of my head. He pulled away and I felt his fingers in my hair. I cringed and pulled away. “Please don’t.” He pulled his fingers from my hair, wrapping it back around my waist. “I’m sorry, I just forgot you had some hair pulled out.” I nodded with a sigh. “I just hope it grows back in time for the wedding.” He pressed his lips to the back of my head and I could feel the smile on his face. “I’m sure it will, and if not, you’ll still look beautiful.” I couldn’t hold back the grin on my face. “Thank you, honey.” He squeezed me one more time before the oven beeped and Rooster pulled the croutons from the oven. “Homemade?” I nodded. “Yeah, in order to save money for the wedding I changed up the grocery list a little. So the bread is homemade, I buy our eggs from one of the guys on base. Him and his wife have a shit ton of chickens. Um, I try to buy as much as possible on sale. I stock up on veggies, slice them and freeze them.”

He smiled at me as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest. I finished chopping everything and placed it in bowls before turning to him. “You hit the gym more often?” I noticed his arms were a little bigger and his abs more defined. “It was the only thing that kept my mind busy when I wasn’t doing paper work.” I nodded, admiring him. He was shirtless with a pair of basketball shorts on. I met his eyes to see he was staring at the right side of my face, my stomach rolling. “Come here.” He grabbed my hips, lifting me onto the counter. He spread my legs to stand between them, his hands creeping up the side of my ribs. “I missed you so much, pretty girl.” He said as his nose nudged mine. “Oh, I missed you too, Roo.” He smiled, his lips molding against mine. My arms wrapped around his neck as his crept up my back. I knew I missed him, but now, with his lips against mine it was like the other half of my heart had come home. His tongue licked my bottom lip, coercing me to open my mouth. Our tongues clashed as a sigh escaped me. He moved from my lips, opting to kiss across my right cheek, his lips ghosting over the bruises before he leaned down to my neck, licking it. “Bradley.” I sighed as I pulled him closer if possible. “Fuck, I’ve missed those little noises you make for me.” I smiled as one of my hands found its way into his hair. Soon he pulled away and kissed me one more time. “I see your hair got a little longer.” He said as he twirled some of it. “Yeah, I’m trying to grow it out.” He grinned at me, kissing my nose. “Short or long, I think you look beautiful.” A blush crept up my cheeks as I giggled.

“I can’t wait to see the venue.” I gasped in excitement. “Yeah? We can go tomorrow! I can call Margaret and let her know!” He smiled at me as his grip around me tightened. “Mm, We both have some time off work for a few weeks. Let’s hold off till Monday. I just wanna keep you in my arms for the weekend.” He whispered as he rested his forehead on mine. “I like the sound of that.” He smiled, kissing me again. “Alright, I’m hungry and you know what? It’s nice outside so let’s go sit on the deck.” He said as he clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “Well, you might wanna go see your girls first. They’re out back.” He smiled, stepping away and helping me off the counter. I swung the back door open to see both dogs sunbathing on their backs. “Girls.” I called and no one moved. “Daddy’s home.” Immediately they both flipped over, looking at us almost to see if I was lying. But as soon as they caught sight of him, they were off. They rushed over as he sat on the floor, Sadie leaping into his lap as Dahlia all but tackled him. “Hi girls!” He cooed, pulling them both close. Kissing their heads as they licked his face, “Okay, gross! Stop!” He laughed out. They backed up just enough for him to give them love individually. “And you.” He said as he grabbed Dahlia’s collar, pulling her closer. “I owe you a lot big girl.” He said as he pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “She is missing a tooth but that’s okay.” I said as I crouched down next to him.

Loud barking from Bradley’s lap caught my attention. “Yes, little girl. You did good too!” I said as I picked her up, nuzzling her fur. “She laid in front of me after he ran out. I thought she was gonna take down the officer when he rushed in.” Bradley chuckled, petting her. I put Sadie down and we went back inside to finish the food. We grabbed our plates going outside, he took one side of the small table and as I walked past him, “Oh no.” He said before wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me down into his lap. “Want you as close as possible.” He said before pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. So, I stayed in his lap, relishing in this peaceful moment. Soon the wind picked up and dark clouds rolled in. “Come on, we’ll clean up the kitchen and then snuggle on the couch.” I nodded, following him inside and bringing the dogs with. We cleaned up before he headed for the living room when I stopped him. “Wait! Close your eyes!” He grinned, doing as I asked. If he had seen the piano, he didn’t react any way. I led him out to the living room, placing my hands over his eyes. “Okay and open them!” I let go, stepping to the side to see his reaction. For a second there was nothing, he just stared at it. “Roo? Do you not like it?” What if he didn’t? Did I cross a boundary? Maybe it brought up old memories that upset him.

He walked over to it, a blank expression on his face. He sat on the bench, running his hands over the keys. “My parents had a piano exactly like this.” “That’s why I got it.” I said as I walked over, crouching down next to him. “Hey, if you don’t want it, I-“ He gently grabbed my hand, pulling me up and into his lap, straddling him on the bench. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back. I noticed his breathing get deeper and deeper before feeling tears running down my shoulder. “Oh, Roo.” I cooed as one hand went into his hair, scratching his scalp. I gently pressed my lips to his hair as I held him. After a few minutes he picked his head up, looking at me, his eyes red and cheeks puffy. “I love this. You have no idea how much it means to me that you went through the trouble of finding this and bringing it home.” I smiled down at him, holding his face in my hands as I rested my forehead on his. “No trouble at all. I made Hangman, Bob and Coyote do it.” He laughed loudly, quickly standing with me in his arms. “Ooh, you have been working out.” We laughed as he walked us over to the couch, flopping down, landing us on our sides. I yelped as I landed on my right side. “Oh shit!” Rooster jumped up, helping me sit up. “Honey, I’m so sorry. You know I’d never do anything like that on purpose.” I nodded, wanting to cradle my cheek but I know that would make it worse. “I know, Roo.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” I nodded. “Can you grab me an ice pack from the freezer and wrap it in a rag?” He nodded, launching out of his seat and rushing into the kitchen. As quick as he went, he came back, gently pressing the ice pack to my face. I hummed in relief, placing my hand over his. “Here.” He laid on the couch, opening his arms. I smiled, laying in his arms, the ice pack resting on the right side of my face. “I meant to ask, what’s growing in front of the porch?” I giggled. “I clipped some of the roses you sent me for Valentine’s Day and planted them.” He pulled me closer, grinning against my hair. “Really?” I nodded, intertwining my fingers with the hand that’s splayed across my belly. “Yeah.” “You are one amazing woman.” Soon his breathing evened out, and I smiled, his heart beat against my back lulling me to sleep. This nap was one of the best I had ever had, being wrapped in his arms was soothing, not only for my anxieties but for my soul. I felt safe with him, safer than I ever had in my adult life.

I woke up to rain pattering against the windows, my eyes slowly opening as thunder rolled. I looked towards the front of the house and jumped up when I remembered that all the windows in the house were open. I rushed to the one by the front door, closing it quickly. “Everything okay?” I turned to see Rooster sitting up on the couch, the blanket he pulled over us, pooling around his waist. “Yeah, I accidently left the windows open and it’s raining cats and dogs outside.” I said as I rushed past him, trying to get all the windows closed before the floors got soaked. “Are the ones upstairs open?” He asked as I rushed into the kitchen. “Yeah!” I yelled out and heard his feet stomping up the stairs. Once I got all the windows closed and cleaned up what little water poured in, I leaned against the counter to grab my phone, shooting a text to my mom.

Just wanted to let you know, Rooster’s home.

I still think I should come see you.

No. I’m okay, just focus on riding out this tour and I’ll see you for the engagement party.

I’ll still check in. Give Bradley my love.

I will. Love you.

Mom has been freaking out about me being here without Rooster. Even though the team has been here, she still would’ve preferred Bradley. “What’s got you so focused in your phone, huh? A boyfriend I should know about?” Bradley said as he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling my neck, his mustache tickling me. “No!” I giggled as I tried to get away from him. “It’s my mom. I told her you were home and she wanted me to give her love.” He smiled, rocking us back and forth. “Well, what does my fiancé want for dinner?” He asked, making me giggle. “You just got home. What do you want?” I asked as I leaned back, cradling his face in my hands. “Mm, I’m feeling like Italian.” I rolled my eyes. “Really or are you choosing that just because you know I love Italian?” He hummed, kissing the back of my head. “No, I really want pasta.” I smiled, grabbing the menu for the Italian place we like and handing it to him. “Go ahead, order dinner.” He smiled, kissing my cheek before dialing the number on the menu.

A while later the food was delivered and we set up on the couch, plates in hand as we curled up together. Tremors was on tv, so we turned it on, laughing occasionally until suddenly the power went out. “Son of a bitch!” I cursed. I groaned, leaning my head back onto the couch. It was still a little daylight outside, so it wasn’t too dark in the house. “I’ll go check the breaker.” I nodded as he got up, setting his food on the end table and heading for the laundry room. I heard him flip the switch a few times before he huffed. “Nothing. That wind is harsh so it’s probably down lines, or a transformer.” I nodded as I finished my food. “Want a beer?” I shook my head. “We don’t have any. If I had known you were coming home, I would’ve bought some.” He chuckled, sitting next to me. “Wine?” I shook my head “I can’t have it with the pain meds I’m taking.” He furrowed his brows. “What are you taking?” “Hydrocodone. I only take it when needed, which is mainly at night.” He nodded, finishing his own food. “Well it’s gonna get dark soon.” I nodded. “I’ll pull out some candles so we aren’t shrouded in darkness.” I said as I dropped my voice down an octave.

I went into the guest room, pulling down a bunch of unscented candles, lining them up throughout the living room. “Ooh, romantic.” He said as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I giggled as he buried his face in my neck, his mustache tickled as he left kisses. “Stop!” I giggled as he turned me around, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Fuck. I’m so happy to be home with you.” I cradled his face in my hands before placing another kiss to his lips. “I’m so happy to have you home too.” I looked outside, seeing the rain had slowed drastically. “Come on girls!” Both dogs jumped up, rushing to the back door as I let them out. “Hurry!” We laughed as both dogs tiptoed through the wet yard, Sadie doing a better job than Dahlia. Soon they came in and we had to dry them off, drying off Sadie before I turned to Dahlia. She looked at me with her big eyes. “Don’t you dare.” She dropped her head, and I held up the towel as she shook the water off of her. I looked over at Rooster who stood there, eyes closed, arms out, covered in water droplets. I couldn’t help but laugh, my head thrown back as a loud laugh escaped my throat. “You think it’s funny?” I squealed, attempting to get away when he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back flush against his soaking wet chest. He swung me around for a second before setting me back on my feet.

“Oh no, now we need a shower.” He said sarcastically. “Let’s just get the dogs dry first.” We got them dry before Bradley was lifting me into his arms bridal style. “Let’s get naked!” He said a little too enthusiastically before carrying me upstairs. Stripping was quick, clothing discarded in all different directions before I pulled him into the shower. He pinned me against the wall as the water cascaded over us, his lips molding against mine. All the hunger we’ve had for each other in our separation pouring out, almost suffocating us. We didn’t want to pull away, even to breathe, but we eventually had to. I smiled up at him as I reached between us, my hand wrapping around his cock. “Fuck.” He muttered as his nose brushed my cheek. “Are you that needy?” He moaned as I nodded. I smirked at him before sinking to my knees. “Ooh, what are you up to sweet girl?” I opened my mouth, the swollen head of his cock resting on my tongue as I gave it a kitten lick, his head falling back against the shower wall. “Just trying to please my fiancé.” I said before sucking gently on the head, precum leaking down my throat. “You just have to smile, and it pleases me sweet girl.”

I took him a little farther back in my mouth, but not too far since my jaw was still sore. I ran my tongue along the vein on the underside, causing a shiver to run up his spine and a heat to pool between my legs. “Mags, you don’t have to do this.” He said as one hand buried itself in my hair, gently gathering. I hummed as I pulled him out, my lips popping around the head of my cock. “Mm, just wanna please my man.” I went back to licking the head, using my hand to pump him. “Fuck, Mags. I’m not gonna last long.” I hummed, sucking on him as I rolled his balls in my hand. “Then cum for me.” He groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck, honey. That’s it. Haven’t cum since Valentine’s Day.” I smirked knowing he was waiting till he came home. It wasn’t the reunion either of us were expecting with my injuries but I’m always happy to get on my knees for him. Since Bradley and I have started having sex I will happily give him head. With Aaron, I hated it because he would fuck my face till my jaw was bruised to hell. Rooster appreciates it and makes it enjoyable for me as well. “Mags.” His chest was heaving as I looked up at him, he was looking down at me, his brown eyes a shade darker than usual.

“Yes?” I asked as I pulled him from my mouth, working my hand around him. “That’s it, pretty girl. Yes.” I watched as his abdominal muscles rippled, balls tightening as his release covered my face. “Oh, fuck.” He moaned, looking down at my now cum covered face. He ran his thumb along my cheek, gathering his release before slipping his thumb between my lips. I licked it clean before standing, his thumb and pointer finger gripping my chin and tilting my head to kiss me as his other hand reached around grabbing a handful of my ass. “Let’s finish our shower, we have all night to finish this.” I said as we pulled away and he grinned at me. “Oh, you’re in for a long night pretty girl.” Oh, I was anticipating it. The rest of our shower was soft touches, washing each other’s bodies, longing kisses that showed how much we truly missed each other. Once we got out, he slipped into some boxer briefs, and I slid on a black lacy thong and one of his Phillies shirts. By now it was dark outside, so we lit all the candles that we had downstairs, a soft glow filling the room. “Now we just need entertainment.” I said as I lit the last candle. “Oh, I got that covered.” Rooster sauntered over to the piano, looking like a literal Adonis as he did so. He worked out a lot onboard and it shows. His abs were more prominent, his arms were bigger, and his thighs were thick. Even his ass had a little more curve to it.

I smiled, walking over and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “What are you gonna play?” I asked, nipping at his ear lobe. He hit some familiar keys, making me giggle. “You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain.” I laughed loudly, dancing around him as he sang. Ending with me falling into his lap. “Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” Once he finished, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a kiss. “Can you play?” He asked as we pulled away. “I tried learning while I was recovering, but I only learned a few notes to one song.” He smiled, resting his forehead on mine. “Play for me?” I smiled, turning to the keys as I stayed perched in his lap. “Don’t judge me for my lack of skill.” I said and he chuckled. “I could never judge you, sweet girl.” He pressed a kiss to my temple as I situated my hands on the keys. I slowly played the first few keys, the only ones I knew before turning back to him. “What song is that?” He asked, brows furrowed. “It’s familiar but I can’t place it.” He was so cute when he looked confused. “Love is Gone. It’s by Dylan Matthew and Slander.” He still seemed confused. “Sing it?” I nodded, tapping the keys again. I sang through the first verse, but his memory seemed to click when I sang the chorus.

“I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me I know that your love is gone I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy Don't tell me that your love is gone That your love is gone.”

I finished out the song, turning back to him. “Recognize it?” He had a glassy look in his eyes, as if tears were forming. “Yeah.” It was a whisper, nothing more. “You okay?” With that he sniffled, leaning his head down to wipe his eyes. “Roo? Hey, honey.” I turned in his lap to straddle him, taking his face in my hands and gently lifting it so he would meet my eyes. “Talk to me? You know you can tell me anything.” He knew he could, but he also knew I would never push him to talk if he didn’t want to. “After that huge fight we had at your mom’s concert, this song played in the car on the ride home.” I pursed my lips, not really knowing how to respond. “Every station I flipped to, that song was on. It was like a torturing reminder that you didn’t love me, and I couldn’t escape it.” Tears of my own spilled over as he hung his head, laying it on my collar bone as I wrapped my arms around him. “I do love you. I wish things played out differently for us. But we’re on the other side.” I gently lifted his head, smiling at him, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I love you, and only you. You are way too good for me and to me, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m never running from you again, I promise.” He had no response, nothing other than squeezing my waist and burying his face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again, rocking us side to side. My hand found its way into his curls, scratching his head as I hummed quietly.

We sat there for what felt like hours, but in reality, was probably twenty minutes. It gave me time to think, too much time. My biggest fear was him getting hurt because of me, and his biggest fear was me running. It still hurts to know that I hurt him the way I did, even if it was to protect him. And honestly, I still don’t think I’ve forgiven myself. That was something I definitely needed to bring up in therapy. We sat there for a few more minutes before he lifted his head. “I’m sorry.” I said, wiping his cheeks free of tears. “For what?” He asked. “For hurting you.” He just smiled at me through glassy eyes. “You did. But I forgave you a long time ago, pretty girl.” He said as he rested his forehead on mine. I had a deep appreciation for his honesty. He could’ve looked at me and said, ‘No, you didn’t hurt me.’ Which I would’ve known was a lie. But it made me feel better knowing he acknowledged it and forgave me for it anyway. “I love you, Mags.” I smiled as he gently kissed me. “I love you too, Roo.” He grabbed my left hand, pulling it up to his lips for a kiss before running his finger over the ring. “She’d be so happy that you have this.” I smiled at him. “This means more to me than any ring you could’ve bought me.”

We sat there for a few more minutes before thunder hit, rattling the house. I looked over to see poor Dahlia shaking like a leaf. “Oh, baby. Come on.” I slid off Bradley’s lap, grabbing Dahlia’s blanket and her favorite stuffy. “Come on.” I encouraged her to follow me, Sadie following closely. I walked her into the bedroom, opening the closet door for her. She rushed in, seeking solace in the dark and quiet that the closet offers. I laid her blanket down, allowing her to lay down before laying her stuffy under her chin. Sadie crawled over, curling up next to her. “Alexa, play music.” The Alexa turned on, playing the country station I last had it on. I made sure it was loud enough to drown out the thunder and I cracked the closet door so the lightning wouldn’t scare her. After that I went back downstairs to see Rooster playing a few keys on the piano. “She okay?” I nodded. “Sometimes storms scare her, I find putting her somewhere like a closet where it’s dark and quiet soothes her. That and Sadie curled up with her.” He chuckled. “Your guard dog has an emotional support dog.” I giggled at his observation. “So, what do we do now?” The storm was still raging outside, and we had no power. “Ever play poker?” I asked, smirking at him as I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I like that look in your eye.” He walked over, reaching into the entertainment center and puling out a deck of cards. He slid the coffee table away so we could sit in the floor. He shuffled and dealt me mine and his before we set the stack in the middle. “Strip poker. Loser takes off an article of clothing.” I giggled. “There’s three pieces of clothing between us.” He nodded. “Shouldn’t take long.” We both threw in some chips, staring at our decks intensely. “Flush.” I huffed, laying down my cards. “Three of a kind.” He cheered, fist pumping. He quickly got on his knees, leaning over to grab the bottom of the Phillies shirt I had on, yanking it over my head. “That’s better.” He said before one hand wrapped around the back of my neck, yanking me into a searing kiss. It caused heat to pool in my belly. His free hand reached up, grabbing my breast, causing me to moan. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, opting to pinch my nipple before leaning down, taking it into his mouth. His tongue swirled around my nipple, making a loud gasp escaped me. “Roo.” I whined and just as my hand found it’s way into his hair, he pulled away, sitting back down across from me as I whined. “That was mean.” He just smirked at me, dealing another hand.

We watched each other carefully before he smugly laid down his hand. “Full house.” He smirked at me, raising his brows. “Royal Flush.” His smile fell as I reached across, flicking his waist band. “Get ‘em off.” He quickly stripped his boxers off, tossing them behind him. I decided to return the favor, leaning forward and grabbing his semi hard cock, licking a stripe along the vein on the underside. He threw his head back, moaning before I pulled away, sitting back in my spot. “You’re a fucking tease.” I smirked, opting to sit on my knees when I sat back down. “Best two out of three?” I nodded. Either way my panties would come off, but I knew he wanted that moment to rip them off of me. It was a short round him laying down a royal flush when I had nothing. The second I threw down my cards, he was on me. He tackled me to the floor, his lips smashing against mine. My legs wrapped around his waist, his cock resting heavy against my pelvis. “Fuck.” He muttered as he pulled away, grabbing my hands and pulling me up. He grabbed my thighs, lifting me before dropping me down onto my back on the lounge part of the couch. He kissed me before standing, grabbing my underwear, he lifted my legs in the air, sliding them off before chucking them somewhere before he smirked at me.

He kneeled on the lounge, placing kisses on my ankles before slowly working his way up my leg. I shivered as he placed a kiss to the back of my knee. He kissed my inner though, his nose brushing just next to my clit. “Roo.” I moaned, taking deeper breaths so I didn’t jump his bones. “Just hang on, pretty girl. I got you.” He laid down on the lounge, positioning himself perfectly between my legs. He pushed my thighs apart, giving him better access. I moaned loudly as the tip of his tongue circled my clit. “God I’ve missed the sounds you make.” He said before diving his tongue into my entrance. I gasped, my hands finding their way into his hair. “Oh yes.” I moaned out. His nose brushed my clit as he continued to lick into me. He kept a grip on my legs, keeping them pushed back against my shoulders as he sloppily ate me out. The sounds he was making as he sucked on my clit were obscene, and it made heat pool in my belly. That tightening sensation had me moaning loudly. “Bradley. God, don’t stop.” I begged sitting up just enough to watch him. I could see his tongue flicking against my clit as his eyes met mine, but I also noticed he was grinding into the end of the couch. “Yeah, Rooster.” I encouraged, my hand holding his curls in a vice like grip.

I couldn’t resist grinding against his tongue, watching his hips roll down into the couch. “Come on. Roo, I’m so close!” I called, waves of pleasure hitting soon after. I froze as he pulled my pelvis flush against his mouth. I cried out, attempting to pull away but the grip he had on my legs wasn’t allowing it. I practically had to push him away, the over stimulation being too much. He smirked as he rose onto all fours, leaning over me to place a kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his tongue, a moan escaping me. “You need a little attention?” I asked, gripping his cock, making his breath catch in his throat. “I saw you grinding into the couch Roo.” He groaned, grabbing my leg again, lifting it up to my shoulder. “I can’t help it, watching you cum on my tongue drives me crazy.” He said as he placed one more kiss to my lips, before lining himself up. I ran my nails down his abs as he slowly slipped in. I hissed in pain, having to get used to the stretch again.

“You can take it, pretty girl.” He always knew the right things to get me going. Inch by inch he buried himself inside me until he was buried to the hilt. “See, I told you you could take it. You always do.” My eyes could’ve rolled back in my head. I never knew you could miss such a sensation, he was sitting still, not moving at all and yet it still felt almost euphoric. He trailed his hands from my thighs to my ribs, holding me tightly there. I met his gaze, his eyes seeming to be a few shades darker as he stared down at me. “Rooster.” I said as I wrapped my hands around his forearms. “Fuck me, Roo. Please.” I could hardly stand it, this long without him and I already felt my mind going hazy. He obliged, slowly pulling out before slipping back in. It was all slow thrusts and sensual kisses but soon I needed more. I sat up and he pulled out, his smirk growing wide as I braced myself against the back of the couch. I arched my back, my ass sticking in the air as Rooster took the sign to stand. He gathered my hair in his hands, slipping back in. “Oh.” I moaned loudly. He pulled my hair, tilting my head back, meeting my gaze as he fucked me. “God, you feel like heaven around me.” He let go of my hair, wrapping his hands around my neck as he railed me. “Did you miss me? Huh? Miss the way I fuck you?” My only response were loud moans. Between his hands around my neck and the fact I felt like my brain was in a haze, I couldn’t say anything. “Words, Mags. Wanna hear you speak.” He said as his pace picked up. “Yes.” I moaned out as the sound of skin clapping became louder than the rain.

He let go of my neck, placing kisses down my back as he fucked me. I felt stupid at this point, barely able to hold myself up. If I wasn’t leaning against the back of the couch, I would’ve been face down ass up. “Come here.” He slipped out, pulling me into his arms before laying me on my back on the floor. He slid back inside, intertwining his fingers with mine as he held them next to my head. He had changed his pace, being slow and gentle as he fucked me. “Fuck, you’re on the pill, right?” I nodded, realizing we hadn’t grabbed a condom. “Don’t pull out.” I said as I pressed my heel into the small of his back. That seemed to drive him crazy. “You want it, honey? Want me to fill you up?” I nodded as he let go of my hands, opting to wrap his arms around me as I dragged my nails down the back of his shoulders. I felt another orgasm building, loud moans filling the room from both of us. “That’s it, Roo. Yes!” I cried as my orgasm washed over me, my dripping cunt pulsing around his cock, causing his own orgasm to hit. “Oh fuck. That’s it, Mags.” He moaned out as he stilled inside me, his cum filling me as my head fell back. “I love you, pretty girl. More than anything.” I smiled as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I love you too, Rooster.”

There was no point in cleaning ourselves up after that, seeing as once we hit the bedroom I straddled him, riding his cock. Needing my fill one more time before we laid down in bed. We laid there, his head on my chest as his arms were wrapped around my waist. My hands were in his hair and rubbing his arm. “Do you think we could bring the dogs to the wedding?” I raised a brow, shrugging. “We can talk to Margaret at the venue. I’m sure we could.” He smiled, watching as Dahlia was still curled up in the closet. “I’d like that.” I smiled down at him, placing a kiss on his head. “Get some sleep Roo, we have plenty of time together.” He tried shaking his head, but he was already halfway asleep. It wasn’t long before he completely knocked out, my hands still threading through his hair. It felt good to have him home, it helped to put my mind at ease a little. But I still worried. They haven’t caught Daniel yet, and I was worried he would come back, and now with Rooster home, I worried even more. I looked down at him, peaceful as ever in his sleep. I looked back to the bedroom door, deciding I would stay up tonight to make sure nothing happened. “We’ll be okay.” I muttered as I sat back against the headboard. “It’ll all be okay.”

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Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @dhwanishah09

#i hope you dance #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #natasha trace #phoenix #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick

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romancomicsnews · 1 year

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Who should play Booster Gold in the DCU?

One of my favorite characters recently announced to debut in the upcoming DCU is Booster Gold.

Booster Gold is a time-traveling idiot from the future who is pretending to be a superhero for personal gain. He is not an inherently heroic character. "The superhero story of imposter syndrome" is how the character and television show is described by James Gunn, and I am beyond excited to see what this take can be.

While I think there are a number of different ways you can go with the character, I have had a couple of ideas swirling in my head forever as to how cast him, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

I love my number one pick, but I think I have two guys who could also get the job done very well.

So as always, let's start by answering a few questions:

Are there any live action past Booster Golds we can pull from?

Surprisingly, yes.

There are two live action Boosters to my knowledge, and neither is half bad.

Eric Martsolf portrayed the character in the tenth season of Smallville. He was cocky, impulsive, and was always looking to the camera. While he was a little on the nose, it was a fun take making a pretty fun episode in my opinion.

I think Martsolf playing of the hero is key. We need someone who almost feels like a classic hero but not quite. Something needs to be a little off, like Mysterio in Far From Home.

Donald Faison appeared in the final episode of Legends of Tomorrow as Booster Gold. While we don't get a lot of him, he's silly, sketchy, and having a lot of fun. Faison does not play Booster as an idiot, more of an on the fly fixer intelligence, like Star-Lord.

I think having somewhere inbetween bumbling idiot and competent is where Booster can shine. While both play into the charm and goofiness, neither of these play into the self-loathing this character can and should be able to get to.

Any other stipulations?

I'd like the DCU Booster Gold to be able to team up with Jaime, our Blue Beetle, to make up the team Blue and Gold. Someone who can play on a team well would be good.

I'd like him to feel a little older than Superman but not by much. 30s-40s is good by me.

Actors known for playing losers and comedic side characters is essential, but also who can lead a franchise and go to sad vulnerable places.

While Booster is often portrayed as white, anyone can be able to take on the role I believe.

Blonde would be great but we can always dye it.

As always, not looking for people who have played or are known for playing superheroes already, at least in live action.

Let's get into it:

3. Darren Criss

Known for roles in Glee, American Crime Story, and Hollywood, Darren Criss is phenomenal.

While he can be the smoothest guy in the room, charming and talented, in American Crime Story he did play a pathetic liar who spirals from his lies that get too out of control.

You can throw a stone and find a fan of Darren Criss. It also helps that he is not a stranger to the DCU. He currently voices Superman in the Tomorrowverse, and he was the villain of one of the best Arrowverse crossovers as the Music Meister.

Criss also starred in Hollywood with the DCUs Superman, David Corenswet, which means they already have chemistry.

I think Darren has all the right tools for the job and can make an excellent Booster. My main concern with him is that he may be too likable. We want someone who can be a little sleazy. Even when Darren is a psychopath, it's hard not to like him. But I think he'd have it in the bag.

2. Josh Hutcherson

The more I think about this one, the more I like it.

Known for roles in Hunger Games, Future Man, and The Disaster Artist, Hutcherson has the type of career I really want from a Booster.

In Future Man he plays a time traveling loser who needs to save the world, check.

In Hunger Games, he plays an emotional sad sack who really isn't that great at saving the world so he needs to depend on and learn from others, check check.

In Disaster Artist he plays a goofy side character, check check check.

It's Golden! (get it?)

Hutcherson also has a genuineness that the others don't, which could make for an excellent reveal when he isn't the hero everyone thinks he is.

Hutcherson also is built and looks like a normal dude, which really is a draw for me for Booster. I don't think Booster should be a chiseled god, he should feel like a guy playing dress up who learns the game.

I think this role is Hutchersons to lose and would love to see him do it. But my last pick is a dream that while likely never happen.

1. Bo Burnham

Okay hold on a second. What?

While Burnham is known for his various amazing stand-up specials, Burnham is a very accomplished actor and writer.

Known for roles in Promising Young Woman, Zach Stone is Gonna Be Famous and The Big Sick, Burnham gonna do anything from sinister, leading man, love interest, and comedic side character. All aspects of Booster we need.

In Zach Stone, he plays a loser wanting desperately to be famous, Booster to a T. He can do charming, comedy, and drama. This is most apparent in his comedy specials but I think those aspects of his specials, specifically Inside, can transfer perfectly to Booster.

Burnham also has written and directed Eight Grade, a phenomenal directorial debut. The film tackles an awkward girls last year before freshman year. It is a funny, honest, and at times cringey film with heart to spare.

Burnham knows how to write, direct, and act an amazing mix of comedy, heart, and pain. So I am not only pitching Bo Burnham star in this show.

Burnham should write and direct as well.

I think Burnham could write an amazing story about Booster Gold while simultaneously dissecting superhero media and our attachment to it. I know he is also frustrated with the slew of Marvel films coming out, and perhaps him writing and starring in one where he has creative control could get those problems with it off his chest.

Or maybe he doesn't want to do any superhero movies, which is kind of understandable.

I know its a very out there dream, but Bo Burnham writing, directing and starring as Booster Gold would be my dream project.

Let's just hope he's not too busy with Girl Socko to do it.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support me, you can:

Follow me at www.facebook.com/romancomicsnews

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alice-angel12x · 2 years

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Take To The Sky

Summary: The Celestial Atlas, the high blue heavens above the earth. For the longest time, only the birds could claim the sky. Until one day, some humans and beastmen grew winds and fell to the sky, becoming the Avian People. But as Time went on they soon built a society with them on the top and everyone else as dirt. Yet, Y/n refuses to remain chained to the ground and oppressed.

______________________________

Want to read the previous chapter or the rest of the chapter. Check out my A03.

Ch. 2

Day-to-day life as a servant at NRC is terrible, most of the students were arrogant a-holes who called on us for almost everything. If they forgot their textbook, they would order someone to run to their dorm to look for it. And if we can't find it, it would be somehow our fault.

Pomfiore is one of the worst dorms to serve. They are so prideful and demanding, that those who are permanently stationed at that dorm practically follow the students around. As those Pomfiore students squawked out orders and demands. I remembered the times I would be temporarily stationed at Pomfiore, and it was rough.

I was often assigned to an Avian named Vil Schoenheit, who by all accounts comes from some pretty well-known parents. Both are famous actors, and even if the father was a human, he is a very treasured talent. And his mother was said to be the most Beautiful Avian. So as expected he was difficult.

Of course, each dorm had its issues, some more than others. Those stationed toSavanaclaw, a dorm mostly filled with beastman, always come back with a bruise or two. The only saving grace there is the Dorm leader Leona king scholar if he’s around and you happen to be female, harassment will not fly here. Sadly the same can’t be said if you were a guy.

Heartslabyul is very strict, at least depending on the current Dorm head. But all servants are required to follow all the crazy and strict rules of the dorm, from painting the roses to wearing pink while feeding the flamingos, On days that hedgehog sneezes, all card soldiers & servants must sing a song together, or even have the rose white and red when throwing a party for a new friend. Though Trey is in that dorm, and his friend Cater is nice enough if not a bit flirty.

Octavinelle is interesting, A dorm mostly dominated by merpeople. You are either working in the Octavinelle cafe or performing the cleaning chores in the back. Most of the servants are just kept out of sight unless they are there waiting on tables.

Scarabia is a dorm in a desert, so that is hard. The Scaribian Dorm much like Pomfiore was very demanding. While they don’t spend their day fussing over makeup and beauty products. The Scarabia students would always demand to have everything served to them from bringing their food, to entertaining them.

Diasomnia was something else, a Dorm mostly with Fea students. It was usually dark and gloomy and even though they weren't brutes like savanaclaw, they were certainly vocal about how they thought most beastman and humans were lesser beings. But they would practically kiss the ground Prince malleus steps upon. As for the prince himself, most were too scared to approach him, and he seemed to only want to be in the company of a few. So I never really bothered him much.

If you want my opinion, Ignyhide is the best dorm. The residents there are primarily independent and shy and they hardly ask anything of the servants. And usually, the servants just gather in the lounge and chat while the students mind their own business. But it was also their I meet Idia Shroud.

_____________________________

Inspired by @tallyanimatez "Twisted wonderland Feather AU". Check out their stories about our winged NRC boys.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #feathers au #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x mc #wing au #Twst wing Au #trey clover x reader

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mrtoadthetoad · 5 days

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Hey you are cared about and loved

Doesn’t matter if it’s across the internet

🫵 get platonically loved, b—ch

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oliviahallwriting · 1 month

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Chapter 4

When Tom had applied to Loftman State the year before, he’d glanced at the graduation requirements. For some reason he needed at least one introductory humanities course to get a degree, even in landscape architecture. Kind of bullshit, he’d thought. Just a ploy to keep students paying for longer than they needed. It wasn’t like the classes were generally useful, either. Most of the classes in the category looked like one-way tickets to becoming the most obnoxious kind of person imaginable.

There had also been a few “history and culture” classes in the list, which were also niche, but definitely a better choice. He’d decided to take one of the Hispanic cultural classes in his winter term to get it out of the way. It’d be a breeze. His mom would have taught him some of it already, and besides, it’d be nice to get to his roots.

That had been the plan, until he’d discovered, with only minutes to spare on the class-application site, that every Hispanic-culture class was across campus. More damningly, all of them met before nine in the morning. So he’d resigned himself to “Intro to Gender.” A lame and unnecessary subject, according to the pundits his abuelo watched, but at least it met at 11 and was only halfway across the school.

He’d been prepared to hate the class. But now, a few days into the course, Tom admitted to himself that he kind of…didn’t. Not that he’d say so to his family, of course. It was just that the subject was a little weirder than he’d expected. Sure, some of the vocabulary was clunky, and he’d had to tell himself that apparently internet teenagers hadn’t made it all up, but he powered through it. Soon enough, he’d started to save his gender readings for last, as a treat.

A few days before the party, Tom had raised his hand for the first time in the connected discussion section. The instructor had given a prompt about masculinity in Latin communities.

“So, my mom’s Colombian, and my dad’s white,” he’d started. “A few years ago, a lot of people on her side of the family were over for Christmas. It was a full house. It was also the first time my dad had met most of them. He got along okay, but he’s always been quiet, and I could tell he wasn’t super comfortable. A lot of people in the house, over for several days. It was kind of a lot; I don’t blame him. Anyway, one of those days, me and most of the guys were hanging out in the garage. We were talking about sports and shit. Cars, too, at least they were, and Colombian politics. Talking pretty crudely about ch—about women, I mean. And my dad was keeping up great. He was shooting the shit about all of it. Except for the sports, I’d never heard him talk that way. He’d only talked to me about girls, like, once. Later I caught him reading a website, some political site, and he confessed to me that he’d researched a lot of it the day before my mom’s family had arrived. He’d asked my mom what her family liked to talk about, and how. Regional Spanish slang and whatever. Even the stuff about the differences between Colombian and American girls, he’d apparently looked up on forums.”

The discussion lecturer had taken a moment before replying, and pointed to a phrase on the blackboard. Decades into the twenty-first century, and the discussion classes still used blackboards.

“So, you think your dad was code-switching?”

“I guess, sure, but he didn’t know the code already. Even some of the stuff he thinks is natural, like how to interact with women. He wasn’t confident enough to learn it on the fly. I don’t know, maybe he had to gas himself up to talk like they did. There were a few drinks involved.”

“Huh, interesting,” the lecturer replied. “Thanks for your contribution.”

That had all been the week before. Now it was the third Tuesday of the semester, and nine days to Thanksgiving. Tom swore he could feel it in the student body as he walked to his gender-studies lecture.

The professor strode back and forth on the stage, chatting to the front row of the lecture hall. The subject of the day had to be a personal favorite.

The professor went by “Dr. Espinoza” and used “they” as a pronoun. It had taken several days for Tom to get the hang of it. For a while he’d had to imagine a class where he couldn’t see the professor, and imagined them as someone in a crowd who he couldn’t quite make out. But it had worked, and now he was reasonably confident that he wouldn’t insult them if he went to their office hours.

A slideshow projected on two screens on the back of the stage read “Gender Expression.” Tom looked at it blankly, having struggled through the material the night before. Not every reading for the class was interesting. After the third page describing gender identity and expression, he’d given up. At least his landscape-architecture readings had pictures and charts to break up the prose.

It hadn’t helped that he’d been distracted. Why would Vanessa think he was gay? Why would there have been an FBI agent around Ashman? And, if there was nothing to the email, why did Dr. Florence look startled when he read it, and why did those two girls in the lounge run away from him?

Dr. Espinoza started their lecture. Tom knew it was rude, but he took out his phone to read the email’s wording again. His mind was racing enough that there was no way he could focus anyway. It was either look at the probably-nothing email or deliberate on what Vanessa had gestured towards at the party, and that wasn’t happening.

“Find aid,” the message read. Tom hadn’t tried to find Kiyana since the office hour he’d had with his grandma. After class, he’d check out some science clubs. Social media, too. Basically all college chicks—women—were online somewhere.

Dr. Espinoza’s voice lilted into a question, and they called on someone near the back to answer.

The student cleared their throat. “Well, as a trans guy,” he started.

There weren’t many men in the class, trans or no. Unless that wasn’t what the guy had meant. Tom hadn’t ever understood where the phrase “trans man” meant someone was a man or woman or whatever.

Tom looked behind him, curious, and heard a few of his classmates follow suit.

The student who replied definitely came across as a man, at least, with his style and haircut. He “performed” as a man, Tom supposed, trying to remember any of the lecture from the past ninety minutes.

“Gender performativity is an okay idea, and it’s fine that people have a broader idea than the hegemonic binary model,” the student started.

He looked decent, Tom decided. Had a charismatic way of speaking, too. If Tom were gayer he’d have called him a “twink”. Then the student paused, and looked down at a few of the students who’d turned around. His eyes briefly met Tom’s before moving on to the rest of the crowd. He kept talking, like he was giving a speech.

“But even gender spectrums shouldn’t be the end point in the conversation. It still leans into the idea that people are a combination of masculine and feminine, but we don’t even need to give them that much. Why call different facets masculine? Feminine? If gender abolition is our goal, we need to commit to it.”

Another student raised her hand, so Dr. Espinoza called on her to respond.

“Should it be our goal?” The girl asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” the dude said. “I don’t think dissolving the legal distinction to gender means people’s individual identities will change. All I’m saying is we don’t need to frame anything in gendered terms.”

“Some would say that this kind of thinking allows patriarchy to thrive.”

“I, uh,” the guy started, and faltered a little. “I’d imagine we can tackle that separately. Or maybe a broader view of gender would make it easier to oppose oppressive structures.”

“And if we can’t? If it doesn’t?”

“Then you’re implying that, what, men are biologically predisposed to oppress themselves and others? That’s wrong.”

There was a little murmur in the room. The girl who’d been arguing with the guy behind him sat down.

Dr. Espinoza nodded and turned to the student who’d been speaking.

“So, without taking too much more time, because I know we’re almost done with class, what would you be proposing?”

“I, um, I’m not sure. It’s a hell of a battle, right? All I know is what a better world could look like, at the end of it. I guess we could start with education. Abolishing conversion therapy, too. Whatever supports fluid modes of being.”

With that, the guy sat down. The lecture ended, and students filed out from Tom’s row. He kept sitting, trying to parse what the student had talked about. He’d definitely sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

Probably a humanities major, Tom thought, amused. How else would someone be that pretentious without having actual policy solutions?

The student who’d spoken left his row and walked down the column. Tom followed him out the building. The guy was pretentious, sure, but also kind of interesting, and Tom wasn’t about to let him escape.

Tom caught the guy in the hall.

“Hey,” he started.

The other one looked up. He had intense, dark eyes, otherwise gentle features, and came across as simultaneously intense and gentle. It had to take a lot of effort to pull off both simultaneously, Tom thought, a little impressed in spite of himself. Just because he didn’t care much about appearances didn’t mean it wasn’t its own art.

And then he felt a little stupid, because he’d just had a class on gender performativity, and he was talking to someone who was trans. There might have been more at play than simple aesthetics.

“Hi, what’s up?” The guy said. “I think I’ve seen you in class before.”

Tom hadn’t, until a few minutes ago. It was a class of at least one hundred and fifty, and the lecture hall had balcony seating.

“I liked your answer,” Tom said. “Kinda profound or some…uh, something.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I don’t know. I just kept saying words.” He looked at Tom and cocked his head a little. “My name’s Jun, by the way.”

“Tom.”

They shook hands. It wasn’t that formal of a gesture, more of a sidelong, small motion from Jun as they walked down the hall. But Tom fumbled it a little; he hadn’t done the whole shake-hands-and-make-eye-contact thing since his job interviews the previous summer. To his knowledge, he’d never formally introduced himself to his high school friends.”

“You want to have lunch or something?” Tom asked. “I have an hour.”

Jun smiled. His eyes crinkled a little bit. “Yeah, totally. Have you tried the chili fries at the SIC?”

The SIC was the Student Information Complex. Tom had visited it only twice, once as a touring high schooler. The complex had several centers for various types of students, like those looking for scholarships, and those in work-study. He would’ve forgotten about the place after the tour, had his mom not pestered him to check it out a week into the school year. It had been a hassle, but he’d wrung a whole fifty dollars from admin for two hours of his time.

There might’ve been a few other rooms. No chili fries, though; he’d have remembered that.

“I didn’t know the SIC had chili fries.”

“Yeah, there’s a cafe next to the Quirby.”

Tom looked at him blankly.

“You know, the Queer and Intersectional Resources building.”

“That’s the Quirby?” Tom would’ve bet money that “queer” was a little too loaded to use in a building’s title.

“Yeah. It’s shorthand. For the acronym.”

“No, I get that. Never mind.”

“Because it’s inclusive.”

Tom didn’t reply for a bit, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of another. It was getting a little strange.

“Tom? You do know that that word ‘queer’ is inclusive, right?”

“I, uh, I guess.” At the least, his gender-studies professor was comfortable enough with using it. “Can we drop it?”

“Because it’s mostly considered an insult because of the trans-exclusionary movement and its adoption by well-meaning liberals. Oh, uh, sure, yeah, I’ll drop it.”

“Thanks.”

Jun changed the conversation to food and hobbies.. Tom enjoyed the lighter topics. Apparently Jun was one of the founders of the Audio/Visual club on campus, and sometimes studied at the Quirby between classes.

“My next class is anthro,” Jun said.

“Furry shit? God, I’ll walk away right now.” Tom gave him a friendly little smack on the shoulder. Or, he was trying to, but Jun frowned, and rubbed his shoulder a little. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Jun said, but he was still frowning. “I mean, anthropology and anthropomorphic share a root word.”

“Anthropologists go to Somalia or whatever, right?”

Jun nodded. “Or wherever they can find some human-interest story. There was a pretty famous study some guy did where he became a crime lord for a couple days in a major city. Forgot which one. Philadelphia, maybe, or L.A. The devil in the city of angels.”

“Wow. Was that the title, or was the dude just that pretentious?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I made that up. So the latter. The book was kind of interesting, though they couldn’t use it as a true study.”

Tom mumbled acknowledgement and they kept walking. The Student Information Complex turned out to be far from both his gender-studies class and his next lecture. Not too bad; he could probably skip the next class anyway. He knew enough about basic math from high school. Maybe Jun’s anthro class was closer.

Tom looked over to find Jun staring at him. He was a little startled at the directness of the eye contact—the guy had quite a stare.

“You wouldn’t actually walk away from me if I were a furry, right? Fursona, fursuit, everything?”

“What? I don’t know. Probably.”

“Yeah? Because there are better reasons than that.”

“I guess it depends how embarrassing you were about it,” Tom said. He felt like he was at a job interview.

“That’s what matters to you? How embarrassing something is?”

“I don’t, uh, I haven’t thought about it, I guess. Why? Are you?”

Jun shook his head.

Tom let out a nervous chuckle. Who talked like this when meeting someone? Furries were like politics; you didn’t bring them up on a first date. Not that this was a date, obviously.

He actually had talked politics on a first date before. One of his girlfriends had brought up her supposedly-hot takes about welfare, but it had been a pretty boring conversation, as he remembered. Most politics were, but that might be because his own politics weren’t that weird or radical or anything. Maybe Jun’s were; he seemed like the type.

Jun was continuing his little rant, for some reason.

“It’s just that they get a lot of hate online for doing basically nothing, and it’s a red flag to me when someone hates them for no reason other than that they’re embarrassed. Shows me they haven’t thought about it at all.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” Tom couldn’t imagine reading this much into other people’s opinions.

Jun laughed. “Sorry, I know I can get kind of intense. I basically only talk to comms and social sciences majors.”

At least he was different from the people in the residence hall, Tom thought, as they ordered fries. Tom’s were chili, Jun’s were garlic-parmesan.

“The Quirby has the best seats on campus,” Jun said, and gestured to one of the doorways in the building. “ Honestly. I’m not saying that to trick you to go inside.”

Tom hesitated. He wasn’t about to insult the guy again, but he wasn’t entirely comfortable with sitting there. He didn’t belong, not really. Not that anyone would ask. He just wouldn’t want to take a seat from a lesbian or something.

“If they ask, say you’re dating me,” Jun said. “We’d be like one of those romance webcomics. The ol’ fake-relationship schtick.”

Tom laughed. “You read those?”

“Maybe,” Jun dragged out the word, a smile creasing his eyes.

They walked into the Quirby, which was much larger than Tom had thought, comprising several rooms connected by open archways. Sofas, padded chairs, and beanbags took up the corners of the main sitting area. Another room had a built-in closet, which had a bunch of different dresses and suits. A different area held a bookshelf and a serve-yourself tea stand, complete with a pot of loose-leaf tea and a coffee machine. It was impressive that the space didn’t look cramped.

The successes of the Quirby’s interior design didn’t carry over to its embellishments, though. An array of different palettes clashed on the wall, drawing Tom’s gaze too rapidly and to too many different areas. He supposed that was inescapable, a consequence of the many different groups his gender professor had relayed to the class all having their own flag. His favorite one was the “ace” flag, a term for a community he’d only learned about that day. The splash of purple against monochrome was relatively minimal, even classy.

Tom had his doubts whether such a group really existed. Or, at least, in high enough numbers to be worth treating as more than some obscure Internet group. Supposedly they were only a few percentage points of the population, but even that felt high. To his knowledge, he’d never seen an ace person in the wild. More of the inverse, really. Increasingly he felt like no one around him shut up about their own desires, though, admittedly, they might have been faking.

According to an announcement board on one of the walls, the aces had a dedicated club, which couldn’t have gathered more than a few people. Ironically, the board stood next to a pamphlet about STD prevention and an open package of condoms, which was almost empty.

A few other club listings were posted. Several STEM clubs were hosting a combined party the week after Thanksgiving, and, in two months’ time, there was some kind of engineering showcase. The deaf and hearing-impaired students had their own club, too, which wasn’t surprising. Loftman himself had been deaf, and made sure the university was accommodating. As a result the university drew in a sizable contingent of hearing-impaired people. Tom occasionally saw people signing to each other on campus. More importantly, it meant that almost every lecture was transcribed, available online, and skippable.

Only two other people were in the Quirby, enjoying the tea station, so Tom and Jun were alone in the main sitting room. The seats were, in fact, more comfortable than the other chairs on campus. Definitely more so than the main library; beautiful as the building was, the wooden benches were insulting.

“You have more classes today?” Tom asked, munching on a fry, which was delicious. Not too crispy or greasy, and with properly-seasoned chili, which wasn’t that common. “Besides the furry one.”

“Yeah, I have Comms this evening, for my major.”

“Communications?”

“Yeah, I know. You can make fun of me. But I swear I took it because I liked the subject.”

“It’s fine. You could go to five ragers a week and I wouldn’t knock you for it.”

“Doubtful. But parties aren’t really my scene.”

Made sense enough. The Venn diagram between people who knew about the Quirby and people who went to Comms parties had to be two circles.

“What do you even learn in Comms?”

Jun shot him a look.

Tom shrugged. “Sorry, I’m sure you learn things or whatever. I’m just curious.”

“You have a way with words,” Jun said.

“Thanks.”

“We learn media literacy and training so we don’t get, you know, destroyed in the marketplace of ideas.”

“Sure,” Tom said, though he wasn’t sure what Jun was talking about. He ate the last few fries. A shame; it meant that he’d lose his excuse to postpone his next class. According to the pink, white, and blue-striped clock on the wall, it was one-ten. He was already late. More importantly, he couldn’t continue the conversation, which he was warming to.

“Wait a minute,” Tom continued. “So you aren’t specializing in gender studies. Did you already know it? That shit in class, I mean.”

“Glad you liked it. And yeah, some of it comes with the territory,” Jun said, gesturing broadly to himself. “Out of the required classes I could take, this was the easiest.

Tom finished his fries.

Jun continued. “So, I’m guessing you’re in business?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m in landscape architecture.”

Jun’s eyes shot up. “Really? Huh.”

“Yeah. What, ‘cuz I’m Hispanic?”

“What? No, no, I guess I made a few assumptions. Didn’t know you’re Hispanic, though.”

“Mixed,” Tom said. “My mom’s Colombian.”

“And it’s only that I thought you were the business type.”

“Because I want power?”

“No, no,” Jun stammered.

“Because I’m a cold-hearted asshole?”

“Uh, a little. You sounded kind of arrogant.”

“I’m fuckin’ with you,” Tom said, before processing the words. “Fair. You’re too sensitive.”

“Yeah? Maybe it’s because I care about other people,” Jun said, but he smiled. There was something in his eyes, something competitive. It stopped Tom’s breath for a moment.

He recovered. “Try giving them space, snowflake.”

Jun turned back to his fries and muttered something before biting into a few at once. It wasn’t that intelligible. Something like “straight dudes, I swear to God”.

Tomtried to keep up the nonchalance, but nerves thrummed in his chest. “I never said anything.”

Jun looked back at him quickly, clearly surprised. Maybe it was Tom’s answer, or maybe he didn’t expect the little quip to be overheard. His eyes flickered up and down. “Oh, no? Could’ve fooled me.”

“I mean, I am, but I never said I was.”

Tom wished he’d sounded more confident. In truth the “ace” poster made him a little unsteady.

“Oh,” Jun said. “Straight enough to sit next to me in the Quirby fifteen minutes after your class started.”

“Yeah. I’m an ally.”

“Okay,” Jun said. He sounded doubtful.

“What?”

“It’s uh, I don’t know. I shouldn’t pry, but, um, I’m gay, and I thought I was okay at catching these kinds of things, but you have kind of weird vibes.”

“I’m glad you have such an airtight, scientific approach.”

“Well, I don’t know. I would’ve assumed you were bi, maybe pan.”

“I didn’t know there was a difference.”

“Yep.”

“I also didn’t know you could be gay and trans.”

“Well, sure. I’m a guy, and I like guys, so, yeah.”

Tom gazed at the visually-crowded wall in front of him. At least this confirmed the “trans man” question he’d been stuck on for a while.

Another minute of two passed before Jun stood up.

“Hate to leave you, but I feel sort of bad for costing you twenty minutes of lecture. See you, uh, next week, I guess?”

“Oh, before then, hopefully,” Tom said. “Let me give you my number.”

Jun inputted his contact info into Tom’s phone and sent a sample text.

It’s me, Jun. ;)

Jun

#writing #novel

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rieguns · 2 months

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#nom nom -> like an npc that won't stfu... #om nom -> asks

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valwentinefics · 3 years

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Altruism Ch. 3 - Zemo x F!reader x Bucky

A/n: So this chapter isn’t the best but I thought I’d give you Bucky fans something. I am benevolent. I can’t wait till I don’t have to type out what the characters say word for word in the show, its torture.

Warnings: Cannon typical violence

Translations: Liebling (Darling)

Series Masterlist

Madripoor - 2024

Y/n’s mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as the group walked down the hall, her hand still intertwined with Zemo’s. She longed to go to Bucky, to ask if he was okay and help him through whatever thoughts were bound to be swirling through his head right now, but she knew she couldn’t, it would jeopardize the whole mission. She was grateful to at least have Zemo to cling onto, despite her feelings about the man. His cool, confident demeanor was comforting to her during this time and his warm hand wasn’t that unpleasant to hold.

“You should know Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Stated a short white haired woman who lounged on a snakeskin patterned couch. Her presence was intimidating, Y/n felt uncomfortable being around her.

“Not a demand, an offer.” Zemo stated, sitting down in a chair and pulling Y/n into his lap which startled her. “Keep with the act Liebling.” He mumbled into Y/n’s ear. She wasn’t sure what he had called her, she had to remember to ask him what it meant later.

“A lot has changed since you were last here.” Selby glanced over to Bucky who was doing his best stoic stare. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” He paused, looking smug. “I’m sure you already know what I’m here for.”

Selby seemed to be stalling, pointing to Sam. “You’re taller than I’ve heard, Smiling tiger.” Sam replied with a nod as always. Y/n considered herself lucky, unlike Bucky and Sam, attention was never on her, she just had to sit there and look pretty. However, that thought jinxed her.

“And who’s the girl? Never thought you were the meek and pretty type Baron.” She commented on Y/n’s frightened demeanor.

Zemo’s arm wrapped tighter around Y/n’s waist “I just call her my little bunny. But Selby, to what we were discussing.” Zemo said, putting the conversation back on track.

“Right then, what’s the offer?” She asked, looking around the room, her eyes lingering on Bucky.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo gestured to Bucky. “Along with the code words to control him of course.”

A mischievous grin spread on her face, sending a chill down Y/n’s spine. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. The serum is here in Madripoor, Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you’d want to thank, or condemn. He was working on it for the power broker but things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Asked Zemo. Somehow his confident and cool demeanor never faltered. Y/n had to admit, in a way the man was quite attractive with the way he managed to navigate the criminal underworld without batting an eye.

“Oh” she said with mock sadness “The breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost ya’ Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” She got up and began to approach Y/n and Zemo. The tense moment was interrupted by the ringing of Sam’s phone. “Answer it.”

Sam tapped on his phone, a woman's voice coming out of it, the words she spoke making Y/n’s blood run cold. “Hey Sam-” Quickly Sam hung up, but not before the damage had been done.

“Sam? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby commanded, that same instant a bullet came flying through the window and into her chest, a choked noise coming from her as she collapsed to the floor.

Y/n sprung up as Sam and Bucky fought the guards, swiftly disarming them with precision. Bucky looked through the scope of the gun he had taken, looking around with the precise caution of a hawk. Y/n moved closer to him, not wanting to be near Zemo any longer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being around him, it was the opposite. She found his touch comforting, and she knew she had to stay away for that reason.

“They’re gonna pin this on us!” Sam worried, standing by the door and gripping his gun.

Zemo only sighed. “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Y/n was confused. Leave their weapons? How would they defend themselves? Nonetheless Sam and Bucky did as they were told.

The sound of cellphones chiming rang out all around them as they quickly walked down the street. Y/n’s nerves were acting up, her whole body feeling as if it was in fight or flight mode. She was scared of what would happen next, never before had she been the target in a battle. They had just crossed under a bridge when a few lights went out without warning. Y/n looked at her comrades with a panicked look, moments before gunshots rang throughout the area.

Zemo grabbed Y/n’s hand, pulling her away from the others. She stumbled after him as fast as she could, lucky she was somewhat adept at running in heels. Her breath was heavy as she resisted the urge to look back, her body aching to run after wherever Bucky and Sam went. Roughly Y/n was pushed against a wall in an alley, Zemo’s warm body flesh against her own. His breath was hot against her neck as they hid in the shadows until a set of headlights passed by. She barely had time to catch her breath before she was pulled away again. Zemo pulled a gun out of his coat as Sam and Bucky grew closer, shooting a man who was approaching them. Y/n watched in shock as he slumped to the ground. Two more men approached from the shadows, Y/n ran over to Bucky and tucked herself behind him, squeezing her eyes shut in fear before the sound of two more gunshots rang out. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, seeing the two men now dead.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Said Zemo, alarm showing on his face.

“Well this is too perfect!” A feminine voice stated, Y/n’s eyes widening as she realized it was Sharon Carter.

Sharon Carter was kind of awful now, but Y/n couldn’t complain as the woman agreed to help them out after she had the situation explained to her. Now Y/n and Bucky were alone in her apartment above her art gallery as a party raged downstairs. Zemo and Sam had been happy for the chance to let loose after everything that had happened and opted to join the party while Sharon looked for information. Y/n was glad to be out of that godforsaken dress and instead in an outfit of her choosing, no longer feeling like she was flashing someone every time she moved.

Y/n sat down next to Bucky on the green couch, leaning into him slightly. He didn’t seem to mind it, his arm resting around her body comfortably. Unlike Sam and Zemo, Bucky didn’t want to indulge himself in a fun night after the events that had happened earlier, and so as a good friend Y/n decided to stay with him to make sure he was okay.

“Bucky, how are you feeling?” Y/n broke the silence between the two, angling her body to face him.

“Fine… I’m fine.” He smiled at her, although Y/n could see through his façade.

“You don’t need to lie. What you had to do must have brought up a lot of feelings. You don't need to explain them to me, I just want to check up on you.” She looked at the man who’s steely blue eyes were filled with a deep sorrow she couldn’t even imagine feeling. Part of her wanted to hold him close, to let him know he’s loved and cared for, but she didn’t want to overstep right now.

Bucky exhaled, looking away. “I think Steve was wrong about me. Maybe I am just a monster.” His voice cracked as he explained, holding back tears. Bucky’s fear of being nothing but a coldblooded killer was a frequent discussion between the two during late night talks where they poured their hearts out to each other in Y/n’s apartment. So although this thought came as no surprise to Y/n, it still hurt her to see her friend and slight crush feel that way. “It was so easy to fall back into being the Winter Soldier… maybe it's because even after all this time that's who I still am. A killer.” He looked at his gloved metal hand with a sorrowful glare.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his thigh, moving his gaze from his hand to Y/n, his eyes searching her face for comfort. “Bucky, that’s not who you are. You call yourself a monster but you’re the most caring and kind man I know.”

“I saw how you looked at me Y/n, you were terrified. You were clinging onto Zemo as if you were scared I lost control.” He looked away from her and down at the floor. “You’re the person I care for most now that Steve’s gone, and you were scared of me. I never wanted you to have to see me like that.”

Guilt bit at Y/n, blaming herself for her friend's state. “Yes I was scared. I was scared you would lose control, that you would revert back to the Winter Soldier. My fear was for you, not of you.” She explained. “Bucky, I could never truly be scared of you. Those late nights where we would watch movies or listen to music and just talk about our lives mean so much to me. I know you’re good in your heart, remember when I healed the wounds the Wakandans couldn’t fully fix before you went under again? If I thought you were a monster I wouldn’t have done that, I wouldn’t have wanted to handle your pain for you. But I knew you weren’t a monster, nothing you did was your fault. I know it, Sam knows it, hell even Zemo knows it! And Bucky, I’ll be here for you until you realize it too.” She held his hand between hers, her eyes studying the side of his face.

“Y/n.. I need to tell you something. I-” Bucky began hesitantly, only to pause when Sharon entered the room looking proud.

“Guys we’ve got to go, I found some information about the serum.” She said. The pair stood up, following her to find Zemo and Sam.

The question of what Bucky was going to say hung in Y/n’s mind as she navigated through the crowd of people, her hand reaching for Bucky’s to ensure she wouldn’t get lost. His hand firmly wrapped around hers, giving it a small squeeze as to let her know he would always be there for her. Through the security and safety she felt just by holding his hand, Y/n realized she didn’t need to find out what he was going to say right away. The two would have all the time in the world to tell each other things, because she knew Bucky would never let go, and she never wanted him to.

@yaskna @noavengers @lostghostgirl94 @whatawildone @lady-latte @chipster-21 @viviace @writeroutoftime @spookycereal-s @nadder37 @ajeff855 @safiakillspop @thiccmemechicc @sgold If I missed you, added you on accident, or you would like to be added/removed let me know!

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws x reader #tfatws

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian - ch. 2

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Chapters: 2/2

Read chapter one on Tumblr.

Chapter two summary: Sam and Bucky talk after their date op in Germany.

“Four,” Bucky says.

Sam, plodding down the road beside him, turns to stare. His sidekick (and fuck him if Bucky’s thinking of Sam in the same terms) has his chin lifted, moving his gaze back and forth across the horizon in a slow sweep. With the lines of trees planted as windbreaks around the fields, they can’t see the highway from here. It could be nice, without the rushing noise of cars and trucks, if Bucky knew how to shut up. That sorta pout his mouth does when his face is in its sour resting position—that’s what Sam wants to see. Only because it means Bucky wouldn’t be talking and Sam could maybe find a few minutes of peace, some quiet in which to consider the Flag-Smashers they just fought.

“Four what?” he demands when Bucky doesn’t continue.

Can’t be hostiles. If Bucky had spotted anybody, he wouldn’t still be striding along, looking unconcerned. No, he’d be running flat-out towards their adversaries like the rash moron he’s always accusing Steve of having been. Trying to leave Sam in the dust until Sam kicked off and spread his wings.

“Four stars,” Bucky says, carefully, clearly, like that clears anything up.

“What are you doing? Rating our trip down the highway? That was a transport truck full of medicine and super-soldiers, not an Uber.”

Sam’s grinning to himself when Bucky turns his head to glare. Ah. So gratifying. Amends sound good in theory, but Bucky’s irritation is so much simpler in practice. Sam knows how to handle that. He’ll take the grouchy stewing post-mission over having to meet Bucky’s eyes across a table, the promised snapper dinner laid out in front of them. They haven’t gotten around to that yet.

“I’m not rating the ride,” Bucky says, “I’m rating our date.”

That trips Sam up, but just for a second.

“No, no, no, dates don’t end with me rescuing you from the underside of a truck.”

“You didn’t rescue me.”

“Man, those wheels would’ve turned you into ground beef,” Sam says with a snort.

“I doubt it. Fell two hundred feet without a parachute today and I’m fine.”

“You want a second opinion on that?”

Instead of watching Bucky’s scowl deepen at the joke, Sam sees his expression flatten out. It makes Sam narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What?” he prompts.

“You’re wrong,” Bucky states plainly.

“About what those wheels would do to you? We can test it when we’re back stateside if you want. I’ll requisition a truck.”

“Not about that.”

Sam’s looking closely, so he spots the smile. A curl at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. He hopes, secretly, that Bucky is scanning the surroundings well enough for both of them, because Sam’s attention is homed in on this little sign of Bucky’s amusement.

“About the end of the date,” Bucky finally clarifies.

“Mission. The end of the mission, when I rescued you.”

“The end of the date, when I was on top of you.”

Something to throw with all his strength, that’s what Sam needs right now. Some physical outlet for how badly he wants to fling the creeping, seeking, aching things he’s feeling very far away from himself. He wonders if Steve ever just whipped the shield as hard as he could to vent his frustrations. It’s hot as hell out here under the sun and Sam can feel the dampness of his chest inside his suit, the sweat riding his spine.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, fine with the scent of manure and getting nothing but grass instead. Like inhaling the colour green. Smells like the field they landed in. Landed in and went barreling across until, yeah, Sam wound up on his back with Bucky above him, their arms fastened around each other like life preservers or umbilical cords or anything else tight and necessary for keeping people alive. Goddamn nose-to-nose. Over the phone, Sam could brush Bucky off. When he says this shit in person, Sam has nowhere to go, besides extending the wings and launching himself into the sky. But he doesn’t want to overreact (doesn’t want Bucky to see him overreact).

“You just calling it a date because you don’t have rules for those?” Sam asks, deflecting.

“My three rules, you mean?” Bucky asks. He loses the smile.

“Right.”

“They’re for… everything. Supposed to be a blanket rollout, not doing anything illegal or that’ll hurt anybody in any aspect of my life. I’m sure the rules go for dating too, though Dr. Raynor and I didn’t really talk about those specific circumstances.”

“I think you might’ve mostly stuck to those rules today. I don’t think we hurt those guys.”

“Maybe you didn’t—”

“Get over yourself.”

“You’re a rude date,” Bucky notes. He’s looking straight ahead. No, not looking, staring. Like he does.

“I didn’t even invite you,” Sam says, refusing to correct this bonehead again about what kind of outing this was. “You walked onto that plane.”

“You wanted me to come.”

“Didn’t need you.”

“Oh really?” Bucky challenges. Sam clenches his jaw as he avoids meeting Bucky’s gaze.

“Hey, I was still in the air while you were clinging to that truck like a toddler to their dad’s leg.”

“You were in the air, but for how long?” Bucky asks, halting and grabbing Sam’s arm. Sam shakes him off in annoyance but stops too. “Until the Flag-Smashers knocked you out or broke your wings like they broke Redwing. They were mopping the floor with you.”

“And it was so damn useful to have you there to be the other mop,” Sam says sarcastically.

“If you’d put me back on the truck instead of in the field, we mighta had a shot at them.”

Bucky’s hands go to his hips, his Vibranium arm gleaming in the sun. He’s going to have to say more about that White Wolf thing. Wondering where the hell Bucky’s sleeve went and refusing to ask, Sam crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“We had no shot. Not today, not without more information.”

“Information takes too long.”

“That’s what a successful op is,” Sam stresses, chopping the side of one hand into his opposite palm. “Intelligence gathering, corroboration, planning, execution. Information is what tells you to hang back instead of throwing yourself into a fight you’re not prepared enough to win.”

“We were already here. We couldn’t just let them leave.”

“Don’t worry about the hypotheticals now; them leaving is exactly what happened.”

“Unless Captain America has ’em on the ropes,” Bucky says deadpan.

“I hope they pushed him off the back of one of those trucks.”

“Were you thinking about that while we were up there with him?”

“At the time, I was thinking about pushing you off the back of the truck for getting us into that situation,” Sam explains, “that’s why I can picture it so clearly. See, Buck? I always have a plan.”

“Just like Steve.”

“No, not just like Steve.”

Sam pushes past Bucky to start walking again. After a couple steps, Bucky’s back at his side.

“You think the new guy had a plan?” he asks. “I don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Sure you do.”

“Are you trying to get me to talk now? Mr. ‘I’m not a words guy’? Fine,” Sam huffs, tired from everything inside him that’s pushing to get out rather than their leisurely walk down a country road. Even so, he walks faster, almost stomping, and Bucky has to lope up next to him to stay in step. “I don’t think he had a plan. I don’t think he could fasten that dumb helmet on his head without a direct order. I don’t think he and his partner found us on their own initiative.”

“They work pretty smoothly as a team though,” Bucky tosses out.

“That looked like familiarity, not the result of inspiring leadership on the part of the Captain.”

“And not as good as us.”

Sam sends Bucky poisonous side-eye.

“I’m not trying to lead you.”

“I don’t wanna be led,” Bucky replies. “We fight together better than they do and that’s with you pretending you hate me.”

“Oh, I don’t need to pretend.” The comment is habit.

“All I’m saying is that it’s better. The two of us being out here doing this stuff together.”

“Especially with that dick waiting in the wings.”

Bucky stares at him long enough that Sam turns his head to stare back. When he does, Bucky glances away, but Sam knows where he was looking—at his back, where his wings are folded away.

“Waiting in the wings is a figure of speech,” he tells Bucky angrily.

“It’s perfect though. I always think of you as that dick in the wings.”

Sam exhales hard through his nose.

“I hope you don’t always think of me as anything.”

“I do. I always think of you.”

Freefall doesn’t jar Sam, no more than what he can remember it feeling like when he was a little kid and his dad would toss him into the air before catching him again. But what Bucky says changes the physics of his insides, the gravity all wrong with his organs. Heart plummeting then trying to sail straight up his throat like a balloon somebody just let go of.

Then Bucky adds, “You and that shield.”

“Drop it.”

He could just fly to the airport, leave Bucky here with plenty of time to think his stupid, shield-related thoughts. Maybe this smartass would have all the answers by the time he reached the plane, or Munich, if they went wheels-up without him. The truth is that the shield—and the Captain America persona—are on Sam’s mind just as much as they’re on Bucky’s, only he manages to keep those thoughts locked up tight. He has to make sure that shit’s contained, particularly if the new poster boy’s going to turn up like this. Sam doesn’t need that in his face.

As they walk, he glances at Bucky, who’s probably as aware of it as Sam is when Bucky gives him that stare. Blue as the sky overhead and heavy as a boulder. The realization that, although he didn’t mean to lead, Bucky followed him here, and continues to stick with him, is staggering. The pages of his mental photo album flip and he sees Steve crack a grin. It’s not like that, Sam tells that blond do-gooder, young in his memories. The only blond do-gooder who ever has or ever will look right with his arm threaded through the straps of the shield.

Maybe, maybe, this thing could work. Him and Bucky running ops, doing better at not getting their asses kicked in front of the government’s hand-picked hero. But Bucky’s gotta let that shit go. Since the Blip, Sam’s been trying to fly under the radar and that’s what he wants to continue doing. He doesn’t need to be showy, just effective; he doesn’t want to get dragged into some Cap vs. Cap contest, the inheritor against the upstart. If Bucky would take the time to think and listen, they could figure this out and be good. And do good. Understanding each other the way Sam wanted when he called Bucky up and they talked about Tunisia and rules and fish dinners. Bucky could make his jokes and, the next time, Sam could call his bluff. Show that gruff, rusty motherfucker what a real date looks like. What kind of team could they be? All kinds.

“Are we even going the right way?” Bucky asks after a half-hour of silence.

“Yes,” Sam says firmly.

He actually hasn’t checked. After they untangled themselves in that field, he just started walking, too keyed up to establish their position. He wonders if the grass still shows their path, crushed where they rolled to a stop.

“You sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Got any thoughts you wanna share?” Bucky asks. Sam frowns and steals a glance at him. “What? I told you I’ve been going to therapy. I know the importance of a healthy dialogue.”

Sam tries to force his mouth to keep curving down, but he really wants to smile. Bucky’s not the worst company and he is obviously capable of growth.

“A question,” he says.

“If it’s sarcastic, I’m not—”

“Four outta what?”

“What?”

“You said four stars,” Sam reminds him. “Is that four outta five or four outta ten?”

Bucky’s smile spreads slowly, smugly, and Sam rolls his eyes hard. He’s no more aggravated by Bucky than he is by his own need to know. ‘Four stars’ was an incomplete assessment! Typical.

“I hate you,” he says.

Still smiling away, Bucky sways into Sam as he walks, their arms brushing. Could be an accident.

But probably not.

#my writing #story update #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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tothemaxie · 3 months

Link

Fandom: New X-Men: Academy X, X-Men (Comicverse) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Josh Foley/Julian Keller Characters: Josh Foley, Julian Keller, Cessily Kincaid, David Alleyne, Ashida Noriko Summary:

Julian has a bad (and expensive) habit of visiting cam sites, but he only realises quite how bad this habit is when one of the thumbnails that pops up in his search is Joshua Foley...

BABE WAKE UP CAMBOY ELIXIR FIC DROPPED AFTER FIVE YEARS OF WRITING IT LOL

#josh foley #julian keller #elixir #hellion #new x men #academy x #fanfic #hellixir #x men comics #otp; no homo #ch; sparkle sparkle #ch; pretty white for a fly guy

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

Lockscreens (ch.10)

tw: insecurities, minor anger-driven violence

Word count: 3.85k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch. 10: All Caught Up (Present)

Present, the day after the game

“Bokuto-sehsu, that was a fantastic match last night! How are you feeling today?”

“Thank you so much Au-san! We worked really hard, and we’re so happy for a MSBY Jackal victory,” he beamed, crossing his legs and leaning forward slightly. “I’m feeling great.”

“How do you guys normally celebrate after a win?”

“Well, we’ll normally go out for a bite to eat or something.” He adjusted his sports jacket, hands fiddling with the zipper. “If we’d just flown in that night though, we’d normally head off to bed after eating something in the hotel restaurant.”

“You guys must be hungry after all that running and jumping!” She laughed. “You’re from Tokyo right? What’s the best place for a post-game meal?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, I was actually the ace at Fukurodani Academy when I was in high-school. We normally go to Gyu-Kaku by the stadium after a hard-fought game, win or lose. I actually took the team there last night.”

“Gyu-Kaku? That’s actually one of my favourites!” They both laughed. “Now, obviously you’ve been involved with volleyball for a good majority of your life. I gotta ask, is there anything you regret about it?” Bokuto froze, his mind running this way and that.

He wasn’t sure why this question was always asked, and he swallowed the weight of the lies on his tongue as he repeated the same lies he had lived and breathed for the past four years. Bokuto forced a grin, “No, not at all. I love volleyball, it’s always been there for me. I’m so happy that I have a chance to continue with it as my career.”

“Speaking of love, any special lady in your life?”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he forced out a laugh, his heart shattering. Of course. Just another bachelor on the MSBY team. “Not at this time,” he acknowledged, knuckles whitening. Bokuto could almost feel the jagged edges of the pieces of his heart that he’d clumsily tried to reassemble. “It’s hard balancing all the travel and practice with a dating life.”

“Well hopefully you’ll find someone willing to do that for you.” Au smiled. “Well folks, that’s all the time we have today. Thank you for coming out!”

As Bokuto left the studio from his live interview, he let out an extensive sigh. It wasn’t often that interviewers asked him about his past, but he supposed it was expected considering he was local to Tokyo. He turned down the street, letting his music fade in the background as he remembered his past. Bokuto still couldn’t believe that he had run into (Name) yesterday, let alone that she was married to Kuroo for gods’ sake. He sighed, face darkening. Kuroo had been the one to introduce them after all.

“Hey Bokuto, I want you to meet someone. Come to Gym 3 later for extra practice!” A hand clapped onto his back, sending the wing-spiker lurching forward. Glancing up, he nodded at the other first-year male.

“Who else will be there?”

Kuroo shrugged, grinning. “You’ll just have to come and see, won’t you?”

After all the practices, Bokuto entered Gym 3 to find it empty. He picked a corner, placing his bag and stuff down before taking a sip from his water bottle. “You’re Bokuto right?” The spiker jumped, dropping his bottle. He cursed, bending down as he picked it up. A soft giggle had him looking up. “I’m (L.Name, Name),” she introduced, bending beside him as she began to towel up the split water. Bokuto stared at her, open-mouthed. “You were really good today!” She beamed, standing up with the soiled towels.

“Thank you,” he stammered, moving to stand beside her. “What school are you from?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, “Nekoma.”

“Oh! You must be Kuroo’s friend?”

(Name) laughed, eyes sparkling. “You can say that. We've been friends since grade school.”

Golden eyes widened. “He mentioned wanting to introduce me to someone. That must be you.”

“Funny, Kuroo said the same thing about you.” She bowed. “I’ll be in your care, Bokuto-san.” His cheeks glowed as he pulled her up from her bow.

Bokuto frowned, arriving at his temporary lodging. Under different circumstances, he would’ve asked to stay with (Name) after reconnecting, but the circumstances being what they were, he figured renting out a place for the month would be better. He sat on his couch, lips pursed. Bokuto’s phone vibrated against his thigh. “Hello?”

“Bokuto-san.”

“Akaashi!”

“I heard that you were back in Tokyo?”

Bokuto stood, his bitter expression lightening up just enough for a smile. He stood up, making his way to his kitchen. “Yes, I am! I’ll be here for a month.”

“How exciting,” Bokuto could hear the smile in Akaashi’s voice. “If you’re free, let’s meet up? I haven’t seen you in quite a while.” Bokuto filled up a glass of water, sipping it.

“I always have time for you, Akaashi!” Bokuto boomed, causing Akaashi to chuckle.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san. I have to go now. I hope you’re doing well.”

“See you soon, Akaashi.”

Bokuto stood in the deafening silence of his kitchen. A heavy sigh left him, shoulders sagging. Akaashi’s calming presence had soothed some of his anxiety about being alone, but it was also a stark reminder that he was alone. Weary golden eyes scanned the kitchen.

“Kou! You’re making a mess,” she squealed, grabbing at his hands. He had been frantically whipping the bowl of cookie dough, causing it to splatter everywhere.

“No, I’m not!” He argued.

She pulled it away, wiping a bit of the splatter off of her cheek. “You sure about that?”

“Okay, maybe.” Bokuto sighed, grabbing a towel to try and wipe down the counter. He was startled when cold liquid landed on his cheek. “Huh?” He whirled around, wiping at his cheek to find a splatter of the dough on his cheeks. “Oh you’re gonna get it,” he grinned. A handful of flour went flying at her as she attempted to run around the island.

“Kou!” She shrieked, the flour landing all over her face. (Name) lunged for an egg, smashing it on top of his head. She froze, eyes widening at the silly sight. “Oh my god, you look ridiculous!”

“You’ve got three seconds.” Bokuto wiped the dripping egg whites off of his forehead.

She backed up, tripping over her own feet. “You wouldn’t do anything drastic, right Kou?” She cooed, panic rising in her voice.

“Of course not, love. I just wanna hug you!” With that, he lunged and cracked an egg down her shirt. Laughter filled the air as they chased each other around, their plan to make cookies long-forgotten.

He sighed. If only he could turn back time. Maybe he’d have this taste of domesticity for the rest of his life. A home instead of a temporary apartment. Someone who would come rushing to greet him once he came home instead of the void left in his heart and bed. Bokuto sighed just before his phone vibrated in his hand.

Future wifey: When did you want to meet?

****

The next day...

“So, Bokuto is back in town? And (Name) is meeting him right now?” Kenma had Hikori on his lap, showing him how to play Minecraft. Kuroo was lounging on the bean-bag, alternating between watching his son and staring at his phone.

“Pretty much.” Kuroo sighed.

“How are you feeling about it?” Kenma patted Hikori’s head, pointing at something on the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t be sitting there sulking.” Kenma eyed his best friend disdainfully. “Not that I’m complaining, you know I enjoy Hikori’s company.” His yellow eyes surveyed the screen. “You can mine those blocks, Hiki.”

“Ok, Ken-san!” Hikori’s pink tongue stuck out as he examined the keyboard to press the right buttons.

“Fine, you’re right. I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“What if she still wants Bokuto?” Kuroo hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. “I mean, they were together for almost four years.” Hazel eyes gazed with affection and a glimmer of resignation at his son. Turmoil overwhelmed him. Would Hikori prefer his biological father over him? Would she prefer Bokuto? No matter what, it had always felt that Bokuto was her first love, not him. “And they have something...permanently tying them together.”

“You’ve also been with her for the same amount of time.” Kenma cleared his throat, shifting his sharp gaze away from Kuroo. “I think that connection is more-so between you and her,” Kenma shrugged. “It’s not like he was involved other than genetically.”

“That wasn’t his fault though,” Kuroo argued. “If he hadn’t gotten the deal that day, he would’ve known and it would be him here instead of me.”

“But he did and it is you, not him.” Kenma looked down at his friend. “You’ve known each other for almost fifteen years. You’ve loved her for a majority of that time, whether you knew it or not.” He took control of the mouse, helping Hikori fight off a zombie. “She’s loved you for just as long. It doesn’t matter what they had together. You’ve already beat him in every possible way.” A smirk made its way onto his face as he watched Hikori play. “You’ve maxed your friendship levels. He’d have to start over at this point.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “You’re such a gamer.”

“A rich one.”

Kuroo’s face brightened as he cackled. “Thanks Kenma. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Our friendship points are maxed out too, Kuro.”

“Ken-san!” Hikori pointed at the screen excitedly. “I just caught this!”

“Good job, Hiki.” Kenma patted the boy’s head affectionately.

****

A few days later...

“Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“Can we meet up?”

“Of course. I’ll text you the address of a pearl drink place, okay?”

Akaashi hung up, sighing. It had been years since he heard Bokuto so...depressed. The wing-spiker had worked hard to overcome his “emo” modes from high school, and it no longer affected him during games, but apparently something brought it back and Akaashi had an idea of what that it might be…

“So you met (Name)?”

Bokuto nodded, chewing on the tapioca balls. “Yeah, we ran into each other at the game a few days ago.”

Akaashi hesitated. “How was that?”

“S’okay, I guess.” Bokuto shrugged, spinning in the raised chair. The two sat in bar-stools at Akaashi’s favorite pearl tea shop. Though, it was only his favorite since it was so close to his work-place. “We met up to talk the other day and caught up. I didn’t know she and Kuroo got married.”

The former setter hummed. “Yeah, they got married before Hikori was born.”

Bokuto threw his arms up. “That’s the thing! I didn’t even know they were talking together. Let alone that they were interested in each other like that.” Bokuto sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I can’t believe I came back to find my best friend having a baby with my ex-girlfriend.”

Akaashi tilted his head, twisting the straw wrapper. “I’m more surprised you didn’t come back sooner with all things considered.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Akaashi cleared his throat, “I figured you would visit more after finding out that Hikori is your son.”

Bokuto froze, short-circuiting. “He’s what?”

Akaashi paused, looking up from his pearl drink. “She didn’t tell you?” His eyebrows furrowed. “They promised that they would.”

“Congratulations, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi nodded at Kuroo and (Name). They were at (Name)’s house as she hosted Hikori’s ‘Sip and See’ party and Aya’s baby shower. The coworkers had become exceptionally close after being joined together by parenthood. The expecting mother was entertaining other guests in the living room while (Name) and Kuroo entertained their guests in the backyard.

“Do you want to hold him, Akaashi?” (Name) offered, arms cradling a bundle of blankets.

Akaashi smiled, bowing slightly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I trust you.” She giggled, gently placing Hikori into Akaashi’s arms.

“I’ll be back, love.” Kuroo kissed (Name)’s head, nodding at Akaashi before heading over to greet his coworkers.

Akaashi rocked Hikori slightly, a gentle smile on his face. “He has his eyes, y’know.” (Name) murmured, looking down at her son and carding through his soft locks.

“Does he now?” Akaashi hummed. Hikori yawned, opening up his eyes as he woke up from his nap. With wide golden eyes, Hikori reached for Akaashi’s face. Akaashi chuckled, bringing his finger to Hikori’s small chubby hands. The baby squealed with laughter as he grabbed onto Akaashi’s index finger. “Does Bokuto-san know?” Akaashi peeked up at (Name).

“Not yet.”

Kuroo returned, catching their conversation. Akaashi kept his attention on (Name). “Will you tell him?”

“Of course Akaashi.” Akaashi fixed her with a hard stare, raising an eyebrow. “I promise, we’ll tell him.”

“Akaashi.” Gunmetal eyes slid to look over at Kuroo who grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “We promise, Bokuto will know.”

“I have to go.”

“Good luck, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi called after him as Bokuto sprinted out of the store.

****

“Thanks for coming in! Be sure to keep doing those stretches at home, okay?” She instructed, waving her client out. She stepped out of the hall, leaving one of the dance studios.

“Hey (Name)?” The receptionist called urgently, waving at the female.

“Yes? Is everything okay?” (Name) walked forward. Rei approached her, bending to whisper into her ear.

“There’s someone here for you. He’s been pacing the lobby for quite some time now.”

“Who is it?” Her eyes widened, brows furrowing. She didn’t have any more clients that day. (Name) glanced at her watch, it was almost time to pick up Hikori from the on-site day-care center.

“He said his name was Bokuto?” (Name)’s jaw clenched, fingers twitching in agitation. “Oh, do you know him?” Rei asked, cocking her head. She could only nod, a million thoughts running through her mind.

“Yeah, thanks for telling me Rei. I’ll go see him right now.” She smoothed out her clothes, taking a deep breath before she stepped into the lobby. “Bokuto?” True to Rei’s words, Bokuto was anxiously pacing up and down the lobby, looking over his shoulder at the double doors every few steps. Bokuto looked like a mess. His hair was all-over the place, golden eyes red. At the sound of her voice, Bokuto whipped around. His lip was swollen and bruised, no doubt from apprehensive chewing.

“(Name)!” Bokuto sprinted towards her. “We need to talk.”

“It appears we do.” She looked around the lobby. “C’mon, let’s go to my office.”

Silence clung to them as they took the stairs up to her office, which had been moved to a different wing. As soon as she shut the door, Bokuto whirled on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That Hikori is my son!” He slammed his palm onto her desk, startling her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I...we...I was going to tell you,” she whispered. “When Hikori was older.”

Name let out a sigh of relief, tugging the blanket under Hikori’s chin. Muscular arms snaked around her waist as the couple stood staring down at their baby. “Let him sleep,” Kuroo whispered into her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and gently tugging her towards the door. Kuroo slipped out first while she paused to turn on some classical music. Her husband was bustling around the kitchen, pouring them mugs of warmed milk. “Is everything okay?” He asked, glancing up at her.

“Do you think we should tell Bokuto?”

Kuroo’s hands froze as he stopped mixing honey in, eyes focused on the mug with an unreadable expression. “Bokuto?”

She hummed in response. (Name) stepped in between his arms, wrapping her arms around his chest. “I mean, biologically that’s his child.” Kuroo hesitated as a hand reassuringly rubbed his back. “Hikori is still your son,” she clarified, “and he always will be.” (Name) pulled back, looking up at Kuroo, her lips brushing his cheek. ‘But I think he’d want to know. Heavens knows you would want to if the situation was reversed.” She shrugged as she bit her bottom lip. “Bokuto doesn’t need to know any time soon.”

Kuroo nodded reluctantly, resting his forehead on hers. “Why don’t we wait until Hikori is old enough to decide whether or not he wants to meet Bokuto?” he suggested, closing his eyes. “Introducing Bokuto too soon might cause confusion or unnecessary stress to Hiki.”

A puff of warm air blew across his face as she contemplated his offer. “That’s fair. He isn’t missing a father figure and he might get confused.” Her eyes glowed with determination. “Alright. Let’s hold off on telling him until he’s old enough to understand.” Kuroo pressed a kiss first to her forehead then her lips. “Thank you for being so understanding, love.”

Kuroo let out a soft laugh. “Anything for you, my love.”

“Don’t you think I had a right to know?” Bokuto was pacing around her office, aggravation evident in all of his movements. Fear locked her jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me when we met up the other day?” He snarled, running his hand through his hair again. The knock at her door shook her out of her reverie.

She cleared her throat, glancing at the door. “Yes?”

“(Nickname)? Are you ok?”

She swallowed, steadying her voice and steeling her nerves. “Yeah, Iwaizumi. I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Alright then. I’m next door if you need anything!”

“Thank you!” She pinched her nose, taking more deep breaths. “Look, Bokuto. You left.” She hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Years ago. I didn’t hear from you until. This. Week.”

“That’s not my fault!” Bokuto argued, grabbing her wrist. “You told me to go!” He threw her hand away from him, golden eyes narrowed.

“I did.” She nodded, closing her eyes. Her nostrils flared as she took deep breaths. “I wanted you to be happy and to be the pro-player you always wanted to be.”

“Babe, guess what?” She looked up from the tea-cup that sat in front of her, over the pastries as (e/c) eyes made contact with gold. Her eyebrows quirked up as she took a sip. Bokuto could hardly contain his own excitement as he blurted out, “I just got scouted!”

Her eyes widened, choking slightly on the hot beverage. “Really? That’s great!”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it’s a two-year contract for now. They want to send me to their training camp starting next week and I’ll be gone for the next six months. After that, I’m going to officially join the team and everything!” A soft pout made its way to his face as he played with his fingers. He didn’t want to leave her - not when she was so close to finishing up school. “That means I have to leave this weekend.”

Delicately placing the tea-cup down, a soft hand reached out for his. “Kou, it’s okay. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for all of your life.” (Name) swallowed thickly, causing him to tilt his head at her. What was the matter? But his worries were quelled with her next words. “I’m not going to keep you here. Please, go live your life and you better be the best ace out there, okay?”

Apprehension bubbled in his stomach, something didn’t feel right. He grasped her hand harder, fixing her with a paralysing golden stare. “We can make this work! I’ll come home to visit, and we’ll call every day, I promise.” Silently, he promised to himself, ‘And when you’re finished with school, I will come back and bring you with me.’

The corner of her lips graced him with a timid smile. “I’m sure we can.”

“I love you.” Bokuto’s plush lips caressed her hand, squeezing it tightly once more. His heart felt warm knowing that he had her support. Knowing that he had a plan for their future now. Excitement filled him once more as he imagined it. Him, established in his professional volleyball career. Her, joining him in Osaka and building her own future as they joined their lives together as full-fledged adults.

She squeezed back, looking at their intertwined hands. “I love you too.”

His eyes widened, the memory hitting him out of nowhere sending a surge of fury through him. Bokuto lunged towards her, both hands now clasped onto her wrists. “Does Hikori know?” Bokuto demanded.

Her eyes widened. “Kou, that hurts,” she whimpered, trying to tug out of his grip.

“Does Hikori know?” Bokuto trembled like a leaf during the season's change.

“No, he doesn’t.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “We were going to wait until he was older so that he would understand.”

“So you hid it from both of us?” Bokuto scoffed. Hurt and anger crossed his expression. “Why would you lie?”

(Name) yanked her arms away, rage surging through her. Red marks were left on her arms and were rubbed furiously. “Bokuto, you left me. You ghosted me. You have absolutely no right to come in here demanding jack-shit from me after that.” She let out a deep laugh, eyes glinting dangerously. “Why would I tell my son that his father abandoned his mother especially when there was already someone else there to love and raise him?”

At her words, Bokuto deflated, anger dissipating completely. “I’m...I’m sorry, (Name). I didn’t…I.” Bokuto collapsed onto her patient table, face buried into his palms. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or to abandon you. It was just so hard, I didn’t want to hold you back.” Hot tears dripped down his face and splattered onto the ground. “Fuck, (Name). I was in so much pain when I left. I didn’t…I couldn’t…Not like this.” Bokuto’s body shook in sobs. Her anger faded as she watched him. Pity overwhelmed her, causing her throat to tighten.

She stepped closer, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his quivering form. Bokuto stiffened before burying his face into her shoulder. “It’s okay, Kou. I know,” she cooed softly.

His body trembled as he clung onto her, struggling to breath. “I know I don’t deserve it but I...I wanna try again. Can I just try to be a part of Hikori’s life? We don’t even need to get back together,” he rambled in sheer desperation, tears soaking into her shirt. How could they? He had been replaced long ago and he hadn’t even realised it. “He doesn’t need to know that I’m his dad. Not yet.” Another sob tore through his body as his grip tightened. “I just want to be a part of his life. Is that okay?”

(Name) bit her lip, glancing at the picture frame on her desk. Hikori and Kuroo stared back at her. Hikori was perched on Kuroo’s shoulders as they wandered the festival streets waiting for the firework show.

“Please.” He whispered hoarsely, pulling back to reveal golden eyes that glistened with pain. “I know I don’t deserve your kindness. But please.” Bokuto took a shaky breath only to break out into harsher sobs. “Please (Name).”

*****

Fun Facts

💟 “Au” means ‘meeting’

💟 Though he was used to answering the ‘regrets’ question, it never not easier for Bokuto

💟 Bokuto had planned on renting the apartment for only a week - enough time to meet up with (Name) and then ask to stay with her, but ultimately extended his reservation in order to recuperate

💟 Kuroo had never really gotten over his insecurities about Hikori’s birth

💟 Kenma loved showing Hikori how to play games, and they would often meet up monthly for game nights. (Name) refused to put Hikori in the spotlight though so Kenma wasn’t allowed to stream whenever Hikori was over

💟 Bokuto was overwhelmed with his own emotions and insecurities regarding Kuroo’s relationship with (Name) [more on this next chapter]

💟 Japanese people call milk-tea/boba/bubble tea drinks ‘tapoica juice’

💟 Akaashi never brought it up to Bokuto because he assumed that Bokuto would have mentioned it to him if he wanted to talk about it. Unfortunately, Akaashi was not surprised about how things ended up happening

💟 (Name) was surprised that Bokuto remembered where she worked. When they had met-up, Bokuto had seemed zoned out for a majority of it.

💟 (Name)’s office was moved closer to Iwaizumi’s office due to reasons

💟 (Name) isn’t the type to get angry. But when Bokuto started making demands while getting angry and violent, she couldn’t help but lash out. She had been suppressing her own rage at him for years

*****

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

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Let’s Go wlw! (Lin Beifong x fem! reader)

A/N: I promise this story is more serious than the title makes it out to be lmao. Re watching LOK and seeing Lin and her character makes me go awooga. This is my first LOK fic and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Warnings: some sad thoughts but it gets fluffy!

The light hurt. Its rays blinded you as you fell. The warmth kissed your skin but it sunk its teeth and that’s when it burned. When you dreamt of flying, this wasn’t what you had in mind. A flightless bird soaring through the clouds was the idea. Hell, that’s what everyone thought right? Smoke flew after you; the tendrils leaving your pure white dress. Your hair was burnt as you fell from the sky. You wondered if this was a punishment. Fate and the gods had to be laughing as their angel plummeted to her death. It was a cruel way to die, but it’s what you deserved right?

Katara had tried to help recover your memories. Once you recovered from crashing into the water and almost drowning, you had been brought to her. Apparently the sky had opened up and spat you out. The white dress you wore had been scavenged and hung on the wall next to your hospital bed. It looked weightless; it was strapless and every time you walked it flowed after you. A symbol was embroidered on it. A symbol from the heavens. Though, you couldn’t remember a single thing. Just what was I sent here for?

The fire crackled around the group. Korra and her friends set marshmallows over sticks, cooking them with its flames. The flames felt familiar somehow. Tenzin and his family were there, too. Tonight was a celebration. Amon had escaped but at least the city was safe. For now, anyway. There was a bad feeling in your gut, one you couldn’t shake away. Chief Beifong sat next to you. She looked pleased as she sat there with the rest of you. Her bending was back again thanks to Korra. Chief Beifong wasn’t one to seem pleased let alone happy, but tonight she seemed contempt. The thought made you chuckle. Her gray brow raised in your direction almost as if she were prompting you to speak your mind. For once, she seemed at peace. With herself and the people around you. A vast difference from the first time you met her.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The room you sat in was cold and dark. The table was metal and your wrists were cuffed to it. An older woman stood before you. Her hair was gray and her face strong. Her green eyes were cold as her gaze sharpened into you. There were two small scars on the side of her face. God, she was pretty. Next to her was a man. He was peculiar;a light blue arrow facing downward on his forehead and a brown pointy beard on his chin. He wore orange robes with a red looking shaw pinned over it. He was bald and at first glance looked pretty scary. But compared to the woman’s cold eyes and hard demeanor, there was a soft gaze in his eyes. Patience and kindness radiated from him. “I-I don’t know,” you sputtered, trying not to shrink away from her gaze. You felt like an animal being prodded and examined at. The woman sighed and her lips set into a frown. She seemed tired from the dark circles around her eyes and the paleness of her skin. You had the urge to reach out and touch her. The urge was strong but you didn’t understand. You didn’t know this woman. “I’ll ask again and one more time,” she hissed. You jumped as her palms slammed down onto the table. The woman’s green eyes turned into slits as she glared at you. “Who are you?” You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this dangy dark room. For the past few days you’d been in a hospital bed scared out of your mind. The looks of disgust and the distrustful glares sent your way hurt. Your eyesight started to go blurry. A tear fell from your eye and you sniffled. Lip quivered and the lump in your throat wanted to claw its way out. “Chief Beifong,” a voice said softly. The man beside her finally spoke. The woman’s gaze seemed to soften ever so slightly at your distress. Only for a second before her face turned blank. It was better than a death glare though. “I-I don’t know who I am,” you replied softly. “I’m sorry if I hurt anyone. I don’t remember anything at all. Just t-the light.” They stared at you. The man seemed more concerned while the woman mulled over your answer. “You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” The man’s voice was careful, almost like he was afraid you’d break. You shook your head. Your fists clenched and unclenched as you tried steading yourself. “I think I was supposed to die.”

You felt like an outcast. Tenzin had his family, Korra had Tenzin and her friends. Bolin had Mako and Mako had Asami. It was a circle of one big family, one you didn’t feel a part of. Tenzin tried to make you feel welcome as you worked to recover your memories. You could only gather bits and pieces but never the full picture. Everytime you tried you’d hear chanting and this big bright light. One time, you did see thousands of eyes all different shapes and sizes staring back at you. You woke up in Tenzin’s arms with light shooting out of your body. You stopped trying after that.

Bolin and the kids had sticky marshmallow pieces on their lips. Chief Beifong looked disgusted at the sight. You quietly giggled to yourself. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips at your amusement. Chief Beifong was known for being stern and harsh. Her cold demeanor had struck you at first. After the interrogation, you stayed out of her way. Though, she seemed softer with you than the others. Sure, she was still cold and distant but the little things Chief Beifong did for you didn’t go unnoticed. The soft gazes and the patience she held for you spoke louder. Even though she wasn’t chief anymore it still felt wrong to address her by her first name. You felt like you hadn’t earned it yet. Names have power, especially Chief Beifong’s. Being a respected figure and a good bender helped with the power she held. But it was the way she stayed strong throughout the bad and the good that made you admire her. Chief Beifong didn’t take shit from anybody, not even Tenzin. But, she still cared. She still cared about the city and its people. The past few months had been insane because of Amon but you and Chief Beifong’s relationship seemed stronger. “A budding friendship,” Tenzin remarked one night after the kids were asleep. It was raining that night; you couldn’t sleep from the visions of eyes peering down at you. The both of you shared a pot of tea. If it was a friendship, then what were these new feelings?

Everyone was asleep. The grass crunched softly underneath your sandals as you stood outside. Korra threw a concerned glance at you before she went to bed. You were always timid and well reserved, but she could tell there was something going on. You shook her off and gave her a reassuring smile before you snuck out. The grass felt soft as you sat in it. Your white dress pooled around you and the gold arm bracelets on both of your arms glimmered in the moon. The quiet night felt peaceful and comforting. The feelings you had for the older woman seemed to be getting stronger. Your heart fluttered and your tongue became tied every time you saw Chief Beifong. Sometimes the two of you would run into each other and have a morning chat. But lately, you have been avoiding her. She didn’t seem to care;if she did you knew she would’ve said something by now. “I take it you couldn’t sleep.” Speak of the devil. Chief Beifong stood behind you. She looked tired; the dark bags under her eyes were more prominent now. She wore a white tank top and some black harem pants. It was weird to see Chief Beifong in something so casual. “Something like that,” you replied, softly. The grass spot beside you flattened as she sat down next to you. The pace of your heart quickened. She was sitting so close that her warmth radiated off of her. “Are you alright, Chief Beifong?” She scoffed, “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Lin.” You froze; she sounded annoyed with you. Dread tore at your gut at the thought of her being upset with you. “Sorry L-lin,” you whispered, eyes down trying to avert her gaze. The woman beside you let out a sigh. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have sounded so harsh.” Looking up at her, you tilted your head.

The sight made your heart flutter. The moon’s soft ray’s shone lightly on her skin. Her green eyes twinkled as she sat there. You began to love the moon and its presence more than the sun and under it, Lin looked beautiful. Her eyes moved to the corner of her eye. Your cheeks flushed once she caught you staring. The corner of Lin’s lips quivered a bit, almost as if she were fighting a smile. “It’s alright,” you replied softly. Your hands were folded into your lap. Lin thought the dress always looked great on you but now did you look like an angel. It billowed and laid around you as you kneeled there. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Ch-, Lin,” you said sternly, correcting yourself. “It wasn’t my intention. I felt like I hadn’t earned the sentiment of calling you by your first name.” Lin’s brow arched, out of interest of surprise, she didn’t know. After everything the both of you and the rest of the group had been through, she had thought you knew. You were always soft spoken and rather timid, but she realized now you felt like an outcast. Even with Tenzin, who treated you like his own daughter. Lin had always appreciated your soft nature and your respect to everyone around you. But now, Lin finally understood. You felt just like her. An outcast, the black sheep.“Don’t apologize,” Lin said after collecting your thoughts, “You meant no harm. I appreciate the thought.” Your heart warmed at her words. Lin was a strong woman. She was confrontational which scared the shit out of you but you also admired her for her bravery. Her courage to protect those she cared about. Even now Lin still cared about Tenzin and his family after they split up. The tips of your brows furrowed in irritation and a surge of anger spread through you. The snide looks and sometimes remarks Pema gave Lin had always stood out to you. Lin seemed to brush them off with a stone cold look but you wondered if even she had her breaking points. Even shields break.

“Can I ask you something,” Lin asked as the two of you stared at the moon together. Normally people didn’t come to you for advice or ask anything personal about you but you agreed nonetheless. You were a bit surprised, in fact. “Every time someone asks about your past or the things that you know you dodge the question. You isolate yourself from the rest of the group and put everyone’s weight on your shoulders. Why?” Silence. Lin watched you from her peripheral view. Your brows furrowed together as you mulled over her question. Why? “I’m not sure,” you whispered. The sadness and the loss you felt was evident in your tone. “I don’t know who I am. I still don’t. I have hints and clues but...they’re not a solid answer.” Lin hummed, “So you’ve given up?” Her questions were ones you asked yourself. They taunted you at every corner and their laughter was loud. Sometimes it was too much. The silence. It felt like you had sunken into the depths of the cold water around Republic city again. Every answer tried to scream at you but they were muffled by the water. The slowness of it all made you tired as you tried dragging yourself out of it. “In a way I suppose. Last time I tried I almost hurt Tenzin,” you muttered. “After that I didn’t feel useful anymore. I can’t do anything but put up a force field. The least I can do is try to take on the weight others can’t carry.”

Your brightness reminded Lin of an angel. Even with her harshness and her steel cutting words you always treated her kindly. An angel sent from heaven. She looked over when she heard you steady yourself from the ground. The tall and strong stance you held never wavered. “It was nice talking to you Lin,” you smiled softly at her. “I hope you can rest soon.” The underlying message made Lin feel calm. Even if she wasn’t strong enough to pull herself out of the powerful tides of her mind you’d be there watching over her. Just like a guardian angel. The thought made her chuckle. Her eyes widened at the soft feeling of your lips on her cheek. Lin’s pale cheeks turned pink and her heart pounded wildly. You smelt like roses and your hand was soft as you steadied yourself on her shoulder. A wave of disappointment washed over her once your soft lips pulled away from her cold cheek. The loving warmth you gave left her quickly and the cold swept over her instead. As quickly as you came, all your warmth left with it. She was up on her feet quickly. Before she could stop herself, her hands encircled your wrist. Lin’s hand tugged, making your figure turn to her. The concern in your eyes wavered as you looked into her strong gaze. The vulnerability in them was bare. You liked her. God, how did she not notice. Lin was sharp and observant but for some reason you fell through the cracks. You had hidden yourself from her view; the shadows of your affections were clever. They hid will and stayed that way. You shifted your feet at her stare. She snapped out of it and pulled you to her. The tips of your ears and cheeks burned red as her chest brushed against yours. Lin felt something she didn’t think she’d feel again. A want, the need to be surrounded by your presence. She ached for your comfort and your love. She wanted you.

You gulped nervously. Lin’s piercing green eyes searched for something. But what was she searching for? Weren’t your intentions obvious? A little squeak left your lips as her pink ones touched yours. A huff of laughter escaped her lips. Lin was soft; her hands calloused from years of work and bending. You liked them. They were a bit tough but still soft like her. Your eyes fluttered shut as you placed her hands on your shoulder lightly. Lin’s hands were gentle as they cradled your face. Both of your hearts were pounding fast. You sighed, allowing Lin to swipe her tongue gently across yours. A soft smack left both of your lips once she pulled away. Lin smelt like leather and earth. You couldn’t get enough of it.

Lin pulled away quickly. You swallowed nervously and your heart sank. Did I do something wrong? As if reading your thoughts, Lin reached her hand to stroke your cheek. Her thumb brushed across it gently. You nuzzled her palm and gave it a soft kiss. She hummed. “Make sure to be ready by nine,” Lin said, a rare smile gracing her lips. Your brows furrowed, confusion evident on your face. “Do we have a mission?” She chuckled, “No we don’t. Tomorrow I’m taking you out to breakfast.” You lit up, a grin stretched across your face. “Alright,” you responded enthusiastically. Lin laughed, intertwining her hand with yours. Things started to look better. Finally, she had you.

#legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra x reader #legend of korra #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong #x reader #reader insert #fluff

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silverwhiteraven · 3 years

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Wings of Broken White - Ch.8

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 7 ] [ Chapter 9 ]

Marinette and Chat Blanc continued to see each other sporadically after their midnight meeting full of emotional rollercoastering and winged secrets. He had told Ladybug about it a few days after, leaving out the part about Marinette’s revealing of having wings. It made her heart skip to know that he would keep a secret that wasn’t his to tell even if he didn’t have to. Ladybug thanked him for being honest with her and told him to be careful, but she was happy he got the chance to spread his wings around another friend.

Ladybug also offered to increase their patrols together if he ever wanted to practice flying with her. She even teasingly said something along the lines of them both needing the benefit of practicing with each other, just in case they ever had to have each other’s backs during a fight in the skies. He accepted, looking giddy to get even more opportunities to fly with another. She also found it unfairly adorable when he joked that he wouldn't get jealous if she wanted to fly around with one of her own civilian friends.

The two even thought about the possibility of some day both flying with their civilian friends together. Ladybug had to hide her giggle at the thought that she might have to break the news that Ladybug and Marinette could never fly together, if this proposed group flight practice were to ever take place.

But Ladybug did confess to Chat Blanc, that if she were to ever choose a civilian to fly with, it would be either Nino Lahiffe or Alya Césaire, because if there was anyone besides Marinette Dupain-Cheng that was trustable, it had to be the people Marinette herself trusted most. Chat hardly held back on his approval of the choices, and it made her laugh to see his bright antics.

After that, several more months passed by the duo, and the world. School was nearing the end of another year. Akuma’s were just as rare and random as ever. Best of all, Chloé had continued to be reprimanded by an ever vigilant Adrien. She was starting to almost mellow out as the fact slowly sunk in that someone she cared about and who cared about her, too, was actually willing to go against her, and even leave her, because she was in the wrong.

All of this led up to an end of school project for their class.

The students were to work together in equal shares to put on a play, telling either one of the fairy tale stories they had studied in class, or one they made up on their own. Nino had proposed that they make a short movie out of the project so that the fruit of their joint efforts could be shared outside of class. The teacher thought the idea was brilliant, and gave them extra time and afterschool privileges to help them set up.

Marinette had been a little tired the day the class was assigning the roles. Her mind only half paid attention, causing her replies to be badly timed and delayed. Because of it, an interesting selection of character parts were assigned.

“Now, I know we’ve been delaying assigning the lead roles,” Nini spoke from where he stood at the front of the room, acting as one of the movie’s directors, “ but I wanted to make sure everyone knew what the other options were before a bunch of people tried to jump at being the Knight of the Princess. So let’s start. Any volunteers or votes for the Knight’s Princess?”

There was various various calls of names and a few ‘me!’s, and most of it all went over Marinette’s head. The only part that really registered was ‘votes for the Knight’, so Marinette half-heartedly pipped in, “Adrien could do it.”

The room went quiet and all eyes turned to her like she had just declared herself to be an Akuma or something. She blinked, wondering what she said.

Nino was the one to break the silence with a crooked and amused smile. “Marinette, you want Adrien to be the Princess?”

She gaped like a fish, realizing she had heard his earlier question completely and utterly wrong. She waved her arms around and she stuttered, trying, and failing, to clear away her mistake. She froze when Adrien burst out laughing, clearly not offended or even upset.

“Why not?” Adrien chuckled as he calmed. “Not the first time I’ve been told I’m pretty enough to be royalty. It would be a nice break from the cool-guy look I’ve been doing at photoshoots lately, too.”

The room started to buzz again with noise. It seemed everyone was considering it, liking the idea of breaking away from assigning a girl to be the Princess.

Alya pipped up above the others mischievously. “So if Adrien get’s to be the Princess, who’s taking the role of Knight? Another of the boys, or one of the girls? At this point, anyone can take the spot since we’ve decided to ignore traditional gender roles. Any volunteers?”

There was more discussion filling the room at that declaration, and a few people glanced at Chloé. She had probably been gunning for the role of Princess, but now she seemed to be pouting. “If Adrien is taking the lead role, then I still want a good one. But I refuse to be a smelly Knight! I’d rather be the King.” She stated decidedly, and the class chuckled and murmured their acceptance of her decision. They were happy to have her not throwing a fuss. It was rather refreshing, actually, to see her still being dramatic but cooperative with the class.

Murmurs continued as the class discussed the role of Knight. Marinette stayed out of it, too embarrassed that she might mess up again. It wasn’t long before Adrien hummed to himself and turned to her.

“Marinette? Would you like to be the Knight to my Princess?” She squeaked at the sudden proposal, and the class hushed. Adrien turned to the others, a small but confident smile on his lips. “She’s helped all of us in Akuma attacks before, right? Marinette acts the part of a Knight saving dames and damsels in distress naturally. I think she could do this, if she wants to, that is,” he adds with a reassuring glance. There wasa round of agreements from the others, before all eyes turned to her, breaths held in anticipation of her answer.

Retreating into the neckline of her oversized shirt to hide a fluster, she nodded her acceptance. There were a few excited woops, and Kim even whistled.

After that, all the roles and assignments for the project were set.

Marinette and Adrien were to be Knight and Princess. Chloé and Juleka took to the King and Queen. Kim and Ivan claimed a joint role of the Dragon for themselves. Rose volunteered to be the Evil Sorceress. Mylène wanted the role as the Knight’s Fairy Guide. Alix was to make props and set backgrounds in the art room. Nathaniel and Alya were the script-writers for the story. Max and Nino were on camera duty with the help of Markov. Sabrina was put in charge of coordinating, scheduling, and final edits.

Lastly, everyone was given two tasks as a group: First, if they had nothing to, they were to help their fellow classmates who were still working. And second, everyone pitches in for the costumes if they can.

Everything went surprisingly smoothly for their project once everything was divided up. Adrien got Chloé to pitch in for the costumes with him, both allowing their immense closets to be raided. Alya and Nino were able to check out cameras from the yearbook and photography clubs. Props became a group-effort when most of the class rather enjoyed, and got carried away with, the art room’s free to use supplies. Some of the musically inclined were putting together a playlist for mood and background music. Kim helped the cast members practice their lines, even standing in for a partner if someone wasn’t there.

It was fun, Marinette had to admit. Up until the inevitable hitch caught up to them, though.

The days of filming their project were upon them. The school’s courtyard had been commandeered for the majority of their sets, empty due to it being a weekend. Large green rolls of poster paper had been used like wallpaper, hung from the second floor banisters to act as a greenscreen. The stairs got covered in painted cardboard so they would look like castle walls and towers from the side.

The entrance to the school was left clear, since the class had deemed it worthy to be its own set background twice over. The first was to act as the front gate to the King and Queen’s castle for the opening scene outside. The second would be from the inside, doors closed and covered with curtains to make it look like the inside of a Great Hall. To give the makeshift Great Hall its finishing touch, Chloé had ‘borrowed’ the fancy chair from her Father’s office to act as a throne.

All in all, things went great. The story and filming opened with the Knight, Marinette, decked out in painted cardboard and foam armor, returning from a mission in another country. He was summoned by the King and Queen immediately upon arrival, to be told that the Princess, Adrien, had been cursed and kidnapped by the Evil Sorceress. To their credit, Juleka and Chloé actually did an amazing job of acting and looking like emotionally distressed parents who just lost their daughter. And when they did a flashback scene in one of the classrooms, Rose proved to be one scary Evil Sorceress with Adrien a perfect damsel in distress. They did have to redo the scene several times, though, because the Queen, Juleka, was having trouble not looking like she wished she was being kidnapped by a very pretty girl instead.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, was then called forth to help assist the Knight in tracking down the Evil Sorceress and navigate through the Magic Woods. This part took a mix of walking along the makeshift greenscreen wall multiple times and actually going out to a few of the parks around Paris. They had to admit to themselves, though, that they mostly just wanted to run around in-costume and have fun, as well as eat a picnic that Alya’s mother and Marinette’s father had both contributed to after hearing about the project.

It was the pre-rescue battle scene that caused the hiccup. The class artists had done a too-good job on the two-person costume of their Dragon. Kim sat upon Ivan’s shoulders, allowing the Dragon to have an impressive two and a half metre height from head to ground. Kim was also very set on being very animated and expressive with the Dragon, so the mouth, full of sharp paper mache fangs, opened and closed at his command while he threw glitter out like it was fire. Ivan controlled the legs, wings, and body, which all had moving parts for mobility. The legs were strapped to his own, so they walked and stepped when he did. The wings were controlled by Ivan’s Raven wings, allowing them to move realistically. Kim, acting as the neck, would twist around, and Ivan, needing to keep balance, would follow his movements, causing the whole dragon to lumber around and sway like it was alive.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, couldn't bring herself to face the Dragon at all, let alone appear on set with it. What really took them off guard, however, was the Akuma that came along as the class was gathered around Mylène.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml wing au #wing-binding #chat blanc #willowbendt

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education-and-sadness · 3 years

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February 9, 2022

Today was an Anthropology heavy day. I decided to try that thing where you listen to one song for each subject, so that way you remember it better. So our anthropology song is “Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)”

EES-105 2/9 notes

HST-102 2/9 discussion

ANT-102 2/9 notes

ANT-102 Ch. 4 vocab

ANT-102 Ch. 3 & Ch. 4 videos

ANT-102 Ch. 1-4 vocab review quizzes

ANT-102 Ch. 1-3 review quizzes

Busy day. Tomorrow, I’m hoping to focus on Computers & Applications.

#studyblr #college #student

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wheresmynaya · 4 years

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Lost in the Lights Ch.1 | Brittana

Looks like I’m back at it again! Honestly it’s only because it’s currently (American) football season and I’ve been wanting to write QB!Britt for SO LONG and Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince gave me lots of feelings about it.

Also the Steelers are still undefeated so I’ve been in a good mood.

Summary: Brittany S. Pierce is new to WMHS and quickly finds that the students there aren't as open-minded as the ones she's used to, especially when she takes over as the Titans' starting quarterback. Many heads are turned including Cheerios Co-Captain Santana Lopez who has some obstacles of her own to tackle.

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x)

Once Brittany taped up the last box and set it aside for the movers to take, she took the rare moment she had alone and reminisced. She knew this day was bound to come. Since her father’s passing earlier in the year, Brittany’s mother – Whitney – had begun making the arrangements to move closer to Brittany’s grandparents in Ohio. Aside from a handful of friends, they didn’t really have anyone else close by and with Brittany’s little brother – Pete – still too young to stay home alone and Brittany busy with school, Whitney needed the extra help.

The move made sense, but Brittany dreaded it in silence. She was going into her Senior year and being the new kid at school wasn’t how she planned on spending it. She kept her feelings in check though as she boxed up her whole life and said goodbye.

Brittany didn’t want to make things harder by digging in her heels, so she put on a brave face for the sake of her family and finished her Junior year without making any complaints. Instead, Brittany did everything she could to help make the transition a little easier.

With a light knock on Brittany’s door, Whitney made her presence known.

“You ready to go, Britt?” Whitney asked gently.

Brittany could feel her throat tightening. Was she ready? The answer was obvious and deep down, Whitney knew that. She closed the distance and gave her daughter a hug.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Whitney whispered.

Brittany just nodded and held on tighter.

It had been a long drive and it seemed like everything started to look a little greener the further they got from the coast. Even the trees changed from the bushy palms Brittany grew up with to tall oaks, but after what felt like a million hours the Pierce Family finally made it to their destination.

“It’s a good looking house, right kids?” Whitney asked cheerfully as the family stretched their achy limbs in front of their new home.

It wasn’t anything special, just a typical three bedroom, two bath. The siding was white, the shutters were blue and the wooden fence looked relatively knew. At a quick glance, the house looked like any other on the block. Brittany didn’t have any complaints though and when she glanced down at Pete, neither did he.

“It’s cute,” Brittany agreed with a smile then nudged her brother, “What do you think, Petey?”

“I like the windows,” Pete pointed up at the shutters, “Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Mine too,” Brittany winked.

“Well, go pick your rooms,” Whitney instructed.

She didn’t get a chance to tell them that they were the exact same size, one just faces the backyard and the other faces the front. The two took off towards the house giggling the whole way while Whitney just shook her head and trailed after them.

It took them a couple weeks to settle into their new place with the help of Brittany’s grandparents, but it was finally starting to feel like home even if she felt like something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

Some nights she could hear the soft whimpers coming from her mother’s room and some nights Petey makes his way into Brittany’s bed because the dreams keep him up at night. Everyone misses him and that makes the transition a little harder. The nights are usually hard for everyone, but they manage to get by together.

It’s better during the day when it’s light out and there’s less time to overthink things. An Ohio summer has nothing on a Florida one, but Brittany doesn’t complain about that either. She can catch a tan wherever the sun shines, so she does just that.

She and Pete find a park within walking distance of their house and visit often while Whitney is out job hunting. Most days, Pete has more energy than Brittany can keep up with so the park really comes in handy. On the rare occasion, Pete sometimes would rather sit with Brittany on a blanket under one of the big trees there and color.

Sometimes, Brittany joins him because as Pete would say, “You’re never too old for coloring.”

One day while they’re at the park, Brittany spots a couple of guys that look to be around her age. They’re a little ways away, tossing a football back and forth. She can just barely hear their voices, but they’re muffled and mix with the sound of her music playing from her phone.

“How’s this look, Britt?” Pete asks as he holds up his coloring book.

Brittany nods, “Excellent color choice for the hair.”

“I thought so too,” Pete grins and goes back to his scribbling while Brittany lazily flips through the latest issue of Sports Illustrated.

She switches from reading articles to watching the guys play. She notes their form and posture and she can’t help but critique them. Their throws are pretty average, but they aren’t too bad and she goes back to reading.

“Watch out!” Brittany hears one of the guys yell. She braces herself and holds out a protective arm over Pete’s head. Soon a football bounces down just a couple feet away from her blanket and rolls to a wobbly stop beside her.

“Way to go, Sam! You almost hit them,” The lean guy yells back to the shaggy-haired blonde.

“I thought you had that!”

“It was overthrown! Do you think I’m seven feet tall?”

“You could’ve jumped.”

“This is why you’re third string when we don’t even have a second.”

“Whatever Mike, I’m just having an off day,” The blonde grumbles as he trails his friend.

“You always say that,” Mike shakes his head and starts to jog over to Brittany and Pete, “Sorry about that!”

“That’s alright,” Brittany smiles as she reaches for the ball and pushes to stand. The leather feels familiar in her hands and it’s just now that she realizes she hasn’t picked up a ball in so long. Her fingers automatically slide into position between the laces though like they’re magnets being drawn together.

Brittany sets her eyes on Mike and draws her arm back to throw a perfect spiral.

The pass connects with the intended target – obviously – but the looks on both of the guys’ faces is priceless. Brittany smiles proudly as they whoop and holler. She didn’t realize she kind of misses that.

“Show off,” Pete teases though he matches her proud smile.

“That was an awesome throw!” Mike applauds as he rushes over, “Like Woah! Sorry, I’m Mike. That’s my friend, Sam.”

Sam’s still a little ways away but he waves as he jogs over, his blonde shaggy hair bouncing with every step. He kind of reminds Brittany of a golden retriever, eager and a little dorky.

“I’m Brittany,” Brittany greets and pats Pete’s head, “This is my brother, Pete. We just moved here.”

“Oh, I think we’re neighbors!” Mike grins, “The house with the blue shutters?”

“Yeah, that’s us.”

Sam finally joins the group, “Great throw! Can you do that again?”

Brittany shrugs casually, “Yeah. Probably.”

Mike and Sam drop their jaws in disbelief.

“My sister’s a quarterback,” Pete informs them, “She’s the best at school.”

“I was the best at our old school,” Brittany corrects and ruffles up his blonde hair.

“You were a,” Sam blinks, “I’ve never met a girl quarterback.”

Brittany tries to keep from gritting her teeth at the way he says girl. She knows he didn’t mean any disrespect, but it still makes her skin crawl. She forgets that some places aren’t as progressive as her old school, so she keeps the polite smile on her face.

“You have to try out,” Sam insists, “You’re better than half of those guys and no girl has ever tried out before. It would be so cool!”

“You saw me throw one time,” Brittany chuckles.

“Exactly, that’s how much we suck!”

“Hey!” Mike shakes his head and gives Brittany an encouraging smile, “You’d be great on the team.”

Mike seems genuine enough, they both do, but Brittany’s unsure of how she’ll be received here. She’s already going to be the new kid in school, she didn’t really want to add on to that by being the first girl to try out for the team.

“I don’t know,” Brittany looks unsure and glances down at Pete, “I wasn’t planning on playing this year.”

“You’ve got to,” Mike adds, “You have a killer arm.”

“Would totally bench Hudson,” Sam jokes with Mike.

Mike nods, “Without a doubt.”

“Is Hudson your current QB?” Brittany wonders.

“Yeah, for three years and we haven’t made a single playoffs appearance,” Sam answers with the shake of his head.

“Sam was going to try and play him for the starting position,” Mike explains, “Clearly he needs some work though.”

Sam scoffs and punches at Mike’s shoulder.

“Clearly,” Brittany chuckled. She liked these guys. They were kind of dorks but harmless and they seemed friendly.

“Well, we don’t want to pressure you if you don’t want to play,” Mike says a little more seriously, “But if you change your mind, try-outs are next Tuesday at William McKinley High at noon. See Coach Beiste.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brittany replies, “Thanks.”

“Cool. Well, how about one more for the road?” Mike suggests and holds out the ball to Brittany.

Brittany was happy to oblige and slaps her palm against the leather, “Go long.”

The guys took off running, playfully shoving at each other as Brittany took her stance and got into position. She let them get a few more yards further before drawing back and letting the ball fly.

Again, it was a perfect throw.

When Sam caught it this time, Mike cheered while Sam did a celebratory dance. It wasn’t the smoothest thing Brittany had ever seen, but it was the funniest and it had her and Pete laughing harder than they had in awhile.

That night at the dinner table with Whitney, Pete talked animatedly about his and Brittany’s day. Brittany always loved how excited he got about the smallest things and he always told stories with so much detail. They were worried that it would fade with their dad’s passing but Pete was still so full of love and light.

“We made friends at the park today too!” Pete said which piqued Whitney’s interest.

“Oh really?” Whitney smiled and looked to Brittany, “Making friends already?”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” Brittany chuckled as she picked mindlessly at her plate, “A couple guys from the high school here were playing catch. Apparently one of them is our neighbor too.”

“Mike!” Pete clarified.

“Yeah, Mike and Sam. They tried talking me into trying out for the football team,” Brittany explained, “I don’t think I’m going to play this year though.”

“What? Why not?” Whitney asked worriedly, “You’ve played every year since middle school.”

“I know, but I want to be able to help out here if you need me to,” Brittany reasons and glances over at Pete, “I don’t want to get stuck with football like I always do.”

“You love it, Britt, and you’re good at it,” Whitney tells her, “You should try out.”

“What about Pete?” Brittany questions, “No one will be home when he finishes school.”

“Gran will pick him up,” Whitney suggests easily.

“But – “

“No buts,” Whitney gives her a stern look, “It’s your Senior year and you love the game. If you want to play, you should. Isn’t that what your dad always said?”

Brittany feels something clench in the pit of her stomach and she isn’t sure if it’s a good feeling or a bad one. She can still hear her dad’s voice gently guiding her and maybe that’s what helps her decide this time too.

“Okay yeah, I’ll try out,” Brittany announces and it’s the first time she finally feels like herself again since moving to Ohio.

It’s a muggy Summer’s day when Brittany arrives at her new school for try-outs. She can already feel all eyes on her as she walks through the gate and joins the others on the field. She spots Mike and Sam with a few others and they wave at her while the others give her curious looks. Brittany gives them a nod but stays focused. It feels like it’s a hundred degrees there, but she’s use to the heat after growing up in Florida. She stands tall with her chin held high as she makes her way over to the Coach.

She’s pleasantly surprised when she finds that the Coach is also a woman.

“Coach Beiste?”

“Cheerios try-outs are held in the gym,” The woman tells her without a second glance.

Brittany bites her lip and tries to shake the nerves, “I’m not here for a cereal ad, Coach. I want to try-out for the team.”

The woman pauses and eyes Brittany curiously as she says, “This is football try-outs.”

“I know,” Brittany nods resolutely, “I’ve played before.”

“Position?”

“Quarterback.”

Coach looks impressed, “What string?”

Brittany smirks, “I was the starter.”

The woman blinks and it’s similar to the look Sam gave her.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Brittany. Brittany S. Pierce.”

“You just move here or something?” Beiste asks as she jots down Brittany’s name on the clipboard, “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yes,” Brittany nods, “I just moved here from Florida.”

“Alright. Well, you won’t get any special treatment on my field,” Beiste tells her sternly, “You’ll run the drills, same as everyone else and I’ll see how you go. You throw up, it’s an automatic out.”

“Of course,” Brittany grins, “I don’t want it any other way.”

It’s no surprise to Brittany when she aces try-outs. She’s always been pretty athletic and she starts every morning with a run so she’s in tip-top shape and breezes through the drills. Even the team’s resident quarterback – Finn Hudson – struggles to keep up with the others. Brittany notes how uncoordinated his movements are and starts to understand why the team hasn’t made a playoff appearance.

Finn’s saving grace though is that he has a pretty good arm, but Brittany is confident that hers is better. Actually, she knows it is. If they’re going to compare stats, Brittany has him beat in every category but she lets her talent speak for itself. No one likes a cocky new kid on the block.

“You’re promising, Pierce,” Coach Beiste tells her after the third day of try-outs, “Between you and me, you can run circles around Hudson and I have no doubt you can outshine him.”

“I appreciate that, Coach.”

“But, he’s been our starter for nearly three years now. He’s got the team’s respect and trust,” Coach Beiste reasons.

Brittany nods. She hates how she has to start from scratch here. At her old school, she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, they just knew she was talented because they grew up with her. Here, they don’t know anything about her and that puts her at a real disadvantage.

“You can’t just come in like a bat outta hell and snatch it from him,” Coach continues, “You’re going to have to play for it; prove yourself to me and the team that you can do a better job. You’ve got to really earn this.”

Brittany saw that coming too so she nods, “I understand.”

“I took a look at your record. I hope you don’t mind,” Coach Beiste says, “It’s very impressive, Pierce. I haven’t seen talent like yours in awhile around here. I almost forgot what it was like to see stats like yours.”

“Thank you. I’ve been playing for a long time.”

“I can tell, so this is what I’m going to do. There’s a pre-season game coming up,” Beiste tells her, “I want to put you in, see what you can do. If I like what I see, you might just be able to nudge Hudson out. There are a lot of Seniors on this team, I know they’d love to see the Championships and I think you can get them there.”

“I know I can,” Brittany says without a second thought.

Coach pats her hard on the shoulder pad, “That’s what I like to hear. Go get cleaned up.”

While Brittany gets packed up a little while later, she feels someone standing close by. She waits for some off-handed comment – she’s heard a few of the guys mumble them under their breath – but it never comes. She figures it’s either Mike or Sam but when she turns, it’s neither of them.

“Hi,” The guy greets. His voice is meek, almost angelic and it takes Brittany by surprise.

“Hi,” Brittany smiles back though as she stands.

“I’m Kurt,” He says and does a showy kick, “I’m the kicker.”

Brittany notes his small stature compared to the other guys. There’s not an ounce of muscle on him it looks like, typical for someone on special teams.

“I’m Brittany,” She replies, “Not sure what I am just yet.”

“I hope you’re going to be our knew QB,” Kurt grins and takes a seat next to Brittany’s duffle as she continues packing up, “I’m rooting for you. I know there are a few others that are too, they just don’t want you to know about it. I don’t really understand the point, we all want to win.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure,” Kurt nods and starts to admire Brittany’s keychain, “Oh! We play for the same team.”

“Obviously or this would be pretty embarrassing,” Brittany says with a straight face.

“No, I meant – “

Brittany grins slyly as she watches his face turn red. She glances down at her rainbow unicorn keychain in his hand and meets his gaze, “I know what you meant.”

Kurt laughs it off awkwardly and tries to recover, “It’s nice to finally have someone to talk to on the team.”

Brittany can hear just a hint of sadness in his tone and looks up, “They don’t talk to you?”

“They do, but it’s not the same. We don’t have much in common. All they want to talk about are video games and hot chicks,” Kurt scrunches his nose like there’s a bad taste in his mouth but then he looks at Brittany and relaxes, “Then again, you might be able to relate with that last one.”

Brittany chuckles as she reties up her hair, “You think so?”

Kurt eyes her and nods to the keychain again, “I don’t know many female quarterbacks that are straight. Actually, I don’t know any female quarterbacks.” Kurt ponders for a moment then looks to Brittany apologetically, “I’m sorry, that was intrusive. I apologize.”

Brittany gives him a pat on the knee as she stands. She pulls up her heavy duffle and adjusts the strap on her shoulder, “You’re not wrong, but I’m here to play football. Not drool over girls, no matter how pretty they are.”

Kurt smiles, “Good to hear. It would be nice to win for a change.”

“I’ll do my best,” Brittany tells him, “I’ll see you at practice.”

Whitney and Pete are in the stands along with Brittany’s grandparents on the day of the game against Crawford County Day. Brittany’s been sitting on the bench for a whole quarter and her knees are bouncing at the opportunity to get on the field.

She watches her team in action and it’s almost embarrassing how ununified they are. It’s like no one’s taking charge – no one’s leading – and it hurts to watch.

“Blitz! Blitz!” Coach yells, “Watch the blitz!”

Brittany can see it coming, but Finn doesn’t change plays.

The ball is hiked and Finn hands it off to their Running Back – Noah Puckerman – but the defense slips through from all sides. Puckerman is swallowed up in an instant.

It’s a loss of three yards, third down.

Brittany glances over at Coach and her face is beet red.

The next play is even worse. It’s meant to be a simple slant pass, but the lack of communication between Finn and the receivers – Mike and Sam – has everyone on different pages. When Finn drops back, no one is open and the pocket collapses in on him for a sack.

Brittany cringes at the hard hit and shakes her head.

“Damn it, Hudson!” Coach snaps and throws her hat on the ground.

The Titans finish the half down by 13 points.

It’s the longest twenty-minute halftime Brittany has ever endured. Coach just tears into the team for being so sloppy. Apparently Crawford County Day is meant to be one of the easiest teams on their roster so the fact that the Titans are behind already isn’t really a good sign.

“Good thing this is just a scrimmage!” Beiste yells, “I’ve never seen so many poorly executed plays in my entire career. What the hell was that out there?”

“They’ve gotten better, Coach.”

Brittany presses her lips tight together to keep from laughing at Finn’s excuse.

“I am captain of the U.S.S. Kick Ass, not the U.S.S. Back Talk,” Beiste said pointedly and looked at Brittany, “Pierce, your starting.”

“Wait, Coach!” Finn argued, “You can’t start her, she’s…she’s –“

Brittany arched her brow at him, waiting for a lame insult to come tumbling out.

“She’s gunning for your job, Hudson,” Beiste cut in.

“You can’t be serious!” Finn crossed his arms, “We don’t even know if she can play.”

“You just keep your eyes on me then,” Brittany smirked as she pulled on her helmet, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Woah!” Sam cheered and high fived Mike.

“Shut up,” Puck shoved at them both, “Have some respect.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kurt replied meekly.

Puck rounded on him, “What was that, Hummel?”

Kurt just lifted a dainty hand and admired his nails quietly.

Brittany just smirked. Maybe she didn’t have the entire team on her side yet, but she liked her odds so far.

At first, things were a little rocky. It seemed that the offense wasn’t use to someone taking charge – they weren’t use to her taking charge – but Brittany kept at it and it started to pay off.

Once she got into her groove, she could read the defense so easily and adjust accordingly. She’d hear the grunts of disbelief whenever she’d call an audible, but by the last quarter she felt like she had finally made ground and gained some of the team’s trust.

Because by the last quarter, the Titans were up by 3 points.

She could play it safe with just seconds to go, but this was just a scrimmage and she wanted to make a lasting impression. She didn’t just want to win with a field goal attempt, she was confident that she could put more points on the board before the final.

Brittany straightened up and motioned for a timeout. The ref blew the whistle and Brittany gathered the team for a huddle. She took out her mouthguard and looked around at her teammates.

“I want to try Blue 80,” Brittany tells them.

“You’re ballsy, Pierce!” Matt Rutherford – the Tight End – said but it came out as a compliment.

Mike and Sam looked between each other before Mike spoke up, “We’ve never made a completion with this play.”

“Guess we should change that,” Brittany shrugged.

“You really want to blow the lead?” Dave Karofsky – the Right Guard – mocked.

“It’s the last play of the game,” Sam defended, “The worse that could happen is it gets intercepted and they run it all the way –“

“Shut up, Evans!” Azimio – the Left Guard – snapped, “Don’t jinx us.”

“It’s all or nothing,” Brittany reasoned, “Scared QBs don’t make plays and I think we can put more points on the board. You with me?”

She held out her gloved fist and waited for the other’s to join her.

Puck was the first to hold out his fist, “You pull this off, Pierce, and I’ll tell Finn myself that you’re the better QB.”

“You’re on,” Brittany smirked and watched as the rest of the team joined her, “Titans on three. One…two…three!”

“Titans!” They yelled out in unison. Brittany was impressed, she was already making them a more cohesive team.

Everyone got into their positions, what looked to be a simple running play. The defense fell right for it and adjusted accordingly. When the ball was snapped, Brittany faked the hand off to Puck and swiftly dropped back, watching as the other team went after him instead of realizing she still had the ball in her possession.

Meanwhile, Mike and Sam broke away from their defenders and jetted up the field. Both were wide open, but Mike crossed into the endzone just before Sam did. While the pocket still held, Brittany made her decision and let the ball fly before it could collapse in on her.

She hoped and wished and prayed to anyone who was listening that Mike would catch this thing. So much was riding on this; the team’s trust, their respect, solidifying her position as the new quarterback. Mike needed to catch this.

The relief she felt when he did was unmatched!

The crowd roared and Brittany’s chest swelled with pride. She glanced up at the sky and smiled, her dad would’ve loved that play.

Soon she was swarmed by her new team and they hoisted her up on their shoulders as they chanted her name, “Pierce! Pierce! Pierce!”

“Hate to say it, bro,” Puck said as they carried Brittany off to the sideline where Finn was close to throwing a tantrum, “But the girl’s got mad skill. She’s got my vote.”

“Who cares about a vote. That’s not how we do things,” Finn scoffs, “It’s up to Coach.”

“Easy, Hudson, you could learn a lot from her. Kid’s on fire,” Coach Beiste smiled proudly and patted Brittany on her helmet, “You got the job, Pierce. Titans, your new quarterback.”

“Thanks, Coach!” Brittany grinned while most of the team cheered.

After the game once everyone had changed out of their uniforms, Brittany was surprised to see Puck approach her with an interesting offer.

“Yo Pierce! Wait up,” He called after her.

“Hey,” Brittany nodded.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend before school starts up again,” He says, “I wasn’t going to invite you because didn’t know if you were cool yet.”

Brittany gives him an unbelieving look but it goes over his head.

“The whole team’s going and considering you’re our QB now I figured it was only right that I let you in on it,” Puck then gave her a sly grin, “Lots of hot babes will be there if that’s your thing. Is it your thing?”

Brittany chose to ignore the question, “Thanks for the invite. I’ll try to swing by if I can.”

“Not to brag, but my parties are usually pretty awesome,” Puck flaunted, “If you want to start off on the right foot at this school – being the new kid and all – you’re gonna want to show up.”

She couldn’t decide if that was meant to be a threat or that he just sucks at persuading, but Brittany shrugged it off. She was beginning to get the impression that Lima might live up to the stereotype of being a small town.

Brittany didn’t waver though, “I’ll keep that in mind, Puck. I’ll see you around.”

\\\\\

As a Cheerios Co-Captain, Santana Lopez knew that there were certain social obligations that she had to keep up with. One of those obligations being the End of Summer party Puck always threw. Only the top dogs of McKinley were allowed to attend and if you didn’t it was basically social suicide.

With everything that happened last year, Santana couldn’t afford to miss it no matter how much she hated going. It was like her reputation had been in freefall and she was barely holding on. She couldn’t have that – not for her Senior year – so she sucked it up and told her parents she was sleeping over her best friend’s house.

Quinn Fabray – the other Co-Captain of the Cheerios – was the only person it seemed like that kept Santana sane. They considered themselves the hottest bitches McKinley had to offer and most of the student body couldn’t help but agree. They had the looks, the smarts, the snark; they were the perfect duo and were set on ruling the school.

Santana hoped that last year was just a minor blip in their legacy. She had high hopes coming into Senior year, she already felt like she had hit rock bottom and she was over feeling sorry for herself.

The best way to feel on top again? Attend Puck’s party.

Of course, it was easier said than done.

The music is loud and there are people everywhere. Honestly, Santana has no idea how these things have never been shut down. She thinks maybe the dopes down at the Lima Police Department are just too swamped with real crime-fighting to deal with Puck and his shenanigans for the millionth time.

That’s obviously a joke. Nothing interesting ever happens in Lima, the LPD are just a bunch of lazy fucks who apparently don’t care about a couple dozen kids drinking underage.

Santana sits with Quinn at the edge of Puck’s pool and they just people-watch as they dangle their feet in the cool water. It’s a hot night and there are already a couple drunken idiots wading in the shallow end, singing along to the music at the top of their lungs.

She looks down at her red solo cup and swirls the amber liquid. She barely has a buzz so she takes another gulp in hopes that she’ll catch up and finally start enjoying the party.

Quinn watches her wearily but does the same. Neither of them want to be there but appearances are important, especially to them.

Speaking of appearances, Santana spots a leggy blonde across the way through the glass double-doors. She’s dressed casually in cut-off jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Santana raises her brow; she wishes she could show up to a party looking like that. It took her an hour alone to do her make up, let alone pick out the right outfit.

Santana continues to watch her – though she feels a little weird for it. She’s never seen the girl around here before and decides that’s the reason why she can’t take her eyes off of her – she’s just curious. A little piece of her deep down inside calls her out for lying.

Still, Santana just assumes the blonde came with one of the football players since that’s who she seems to gravitate to. She notices the familiar faces from the football team – Sam Evans in particular – and watches as he hands the blonde a red cup.

The girl smiles in return and wow, Santana’s a little star-struck by its brilliance. Sam must’ve said something dorky because now the girl’s laughing and shaking her head at him. Santana’s never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful and she has to bite her cheek to keep from smiling too. This girl, she has one of those infection kind of smiles and it’s trouble.

Mike Chang walks up next and clinks his cup against the girl’s and together they begin to chat.

Santana quickly glances to Quinn to catch her reaction. Mike and Quinn aren’t exactly official, but it’s obvious they have a thing for each other.

Quinn’s not looking though and Santana feels a little relief. She can’t deal with a jealous Quinn tonight, and a little part of her doesn’t want this new girl to have to deal with that either.

When Santana glances back, she recognizes Sugar Motta – McKinley’s resident Richie Bitch – pulling the blonde girl in to dance and suddenly Santana’s watching a little too closely.

This girl can clearly dance and the way she moves with Sugar is so graceful. Sugar on the other hand isn’t as fluid, but their hands smooth over each other teasingly. When the blonde’s hands land on Sugar’s hips, they start to sway together and Santana can just tell that the blonde’s the one leading now.

Santana can feel this coil within her tightening the longer she watches, her mouth getting drier at the way she takes control.

Then the song changes and the two laugh and carry on so carefreely as if nothing happened. Their moves mimic the steady rhythm and they start to bounce with their fists pumping at the air in time to the pounding bass.

Santana frowns at the slight pang of jealousy; she used to be like that, so uncaring and full of life. She danced with whoever she wanted – boy or girl – and it didn’t matter, but now…now it does.

“Who’s she?” Quinn asks, her gazing lining up with the blonde talking to Sugar.

“No idea.”

“Should I ask around?”

“No!” Santana blurts and Quinn eyes her suspiciously. Santana adjusts, “No. I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later. She’s hanging around Sugar and you know she can’t keep her mouth shut for more than two seconds.”

Quinn smirks, “True.”

When Puck finally rears his ugly mug, Santana’s surprised they were able to dodge him for so long.

“Hey ladies,” He greets with his signature smirk, “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

There are beer stains on his open button-down and Santana can smell the tanning oil on him from where she sits. He’s got a nice body or whatever, but that doesn’t mean he needs to strut around basted in Hawaiian Tropic. She can’t really talk though, she and Quinn have both made out with him at some point in time.

“Scram, Puckerman,” Santana replies with a roll of her eyes, “I’m not drunk enough to deal with your lame ass.”

“Is that any way to talk to the host?” Puck mocks and squeezes in to sit between the Co-Captains.

Santana groans and shuffles away from him, but he throws a heavy arm around her and Quinn’s shoulders. She can smell something stronger than beer on his breath and scoffs as she gets out from underneath his arm, “You’re gross.”

“Whatever. I’m not here for you anyway,” Puck brushes off and leans heavily against Quinn instead, “I know you’re not on the menu anymore or has that changed?”

Santana’s taken aback but her heart begins to pound wildly at the accusation.

“Choose your next words carefully,” Santana warns.

“What?” Puck laughs, “You still trying to hold out on me?”

“Puck,” Quinn snaps and shrugs out from under him too.

He’s too drunk and wrapped up in his own bullshit to notice that he’s crossed a line, but his voice grabs the attention of those surrounding them.

Santana suddenly feels small, trapped even. It feels like everyone’s staring now and listening to Puck’s drunken words.

“All I wanna know is if that phase is over with now?” He says and it’s like the final blow for Santana.

She shrinks back and her vicious words that use to come so easily for her die on her tongue. There’s a crowd gathering now and she notices the blonde girl from before eyeing them too.

“It’s not a phase, asshole,” Quinn snaps and surprises everyone watching by pushing him into the pool.

Santana’s eyes go wide as she sees the big splash. She’s never been so thankful to have Quinn as her best friend.

“What the hell, Quinn!” Puck grumbles as he resurfaces, “I had my phone on me still!”

“Shouldn’t have been a dick then,” Quinn shrugs and hooks her arm with Santana’s, “Let’s go, the beer’s flat here anyway.”

Santana finally kicks into gear and nods, “Yeah. I’m not trying to be hungover for practice tomorrow.”

Santana doesn’t know why, but as they turn to leave she looks around for the mysterious blonde. To her disappointment, she’s nowhere to be found.

They make their way to the street and begin the short walk home in silence. Santana’s heart is still racing even though they’re so far away now that she can’t even hear the low thrum of the music emanating from Puck’s place. She hopes that no one saw her choke on her words, maybe they’ll be too distracted by Quinn’s actions to remember.

It’s not until another ten minutes later when they’ve arrived at Quinn’s house that Santana finally finds her voice again.

“Thanks Q,” She says quietly. She knows she doesn’t need to elaborate and she’s thankful for that too.

Quinn only lifts her shoulder in a lazy shrug, “You would’ve done the same for me.”

\\\\\

The first day of school rolls around quickly for Brittany, but despite being the new kid she makes friends relatively easy. Kurt’s in her first class and she’s honestly so relieved to see a familiar face.

He takes it upon himself to show her around and introduce Brittany to his friends. So far, Brittany’s met a Tonya or Taylor – she’s not very good with names – but she’s nice. There’s also Mercedes – she remembers that name – who Brittany met in her Astronomy class and alongside Kurt guide, they guide Brittany through McKinley High.

It’s a total Mean Girls moment and Brittany finds herself laughing at how eager they are to show her around.

When they get to lunch, she notices that everyone is pretty cliquey which is something she isn’t use to. At her old school, everyone mingled with everyone. It didn’t matter if you played sports or if you were considered cool, people just hung out with whoever they wanted.

At McKinley High, that’s clearly not the case.

All the football players sit together but instead of joining them, Kurt leads Brittany and Mercedes to a different table close by. They get a couple of curious looks, but all Brittany can focus on is what they’re wearing.

“Why have they got on their letterman jackets?” Brittany questions with a laugh, “It’s so hot outside, they have to be melting.”

“How else do expect them to establish dominance?” Kurt says sarcastically, “I only wear mine on game days. You don’t have one yet, right?”

“No,” Brittany answers, “But I do have my own number now.”

“Oh good,” Kurt grins, “It’s official now.”

Kurt and Mercedes are still trying to give her the rundown, but Brittany’s starting to reach her peak when it comes to taking in all the new info. Whatever they’re saying now is kind of going in one ear and out the other, the only thing that brings her back is spotting the familiar brunette she saw at Puck’s party.

Even if Brittany drank a little more than she anticipated, she was still sober enough to remember the saddest looking girl at the party.

“And those are the Cheerios,” Mercedes tells Brittany as if she could read her mind, “McKinley’s cheerleading squad and top of the social food chain.”

“I haven’t seen them at any of the games,” Brittany looks to Kurt for an explanation.

“They don’t bother with pre-season,” Kurt answers, “They’re basically the only ones here winning any titles. Coach Sylvester practically lets them get away with murder.”

Brittany notes all the high ponies and uniforms, everyone’s make up is on point and there’s not a single hair out of place. They all look immaculate, but Brittany focuses on the two that she’s most familiar with.

“Who are they?” She asks.

“The blonde one is Quinn Fabray,” Kurt informs her in a hushed tone, “She’s Co-Captain along with the brunette – Santana Lopez – and both of their families are loaded. They’ve been best friends since ever, you rarely see one without the other. Quinn’s kind of a prude and Santana’s – “

“A complete bitch for no reason most of the time,” Mercedes finishes for him.

Kurt shakes his head, “She has a reason.”

His cryptic words interest Brittany. Hell, she’s been interested ever since she saw Quinn push Puckerman into the pool.

“Doesn’t give her an excuse to terrorize us,” Mercedes reasons, “The girl is trouble.”

Kurt bobbles his head from side to side and looks back at Brittany, “It’s best if you stay out of her way, Brittany. It’ll make your life a whole lot easier.”

“You think?” Mercedes asks, “She’s on the football team, the quarterback even. You think Santana will mess with her?”

Kurt shrugs, “She still messes with me doesn’t, she?”

“That’s true,” Mercedes frowns.

Brittany just nods, but that doesn’t extinguish the curiosity that has blossomed within her.

And maybe someone above is testing her, because when Brittany arrives to her final class of the day she finds the exact person Kurt and Mercedes have been warning her against interacting with: Santana Lopez.

And to make matters even worse, the only available seat left in the room just so happens to be the one right next to her. Brittany shakes her head and glances at the board to double check she’s in the right place.

Creative Writing – Miss Holliday Room 215

Brittany’s definitely in the right place and lets out a sigh.

Might as well bite the bullet, Brittany thinks as musters all the confidence she has left and she approaches the table. She’s been rushed at by guys ten times the brunette’s size moving at full speed on the football field and yet, she can’t help but feel a little nervous when she comes to stand before the Co-Captain.

“Hi,” Brittany greets with a polite smile, “Can I sit here?”

Santana glances up at her like she can’t believe the audacity Brittany has. She eyes her up and down then goes back to filing her nails, “No.”

Brittany nods, so Kurt and Mercedes might’ve been right.

“There aren’t any other seats left,” Brittany adds.

Santana doesn’t even look up this time, “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Brittany has to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. This girl is something else but Brittany’s never been one to back down.

Unfortunately her teacher – Miss Holliday – approaches, “Are you seriously starting off the year by being a pain in my ass, Lopez? Don’t give the new kid a hard time. Move over.”

“Fine,” Santana rolls her eyes and slides her books closer to her side of the table.

Brittany looks back at the teacher and smiles, “Thanks.”

“All good,” The woman says casually. She’s young and reminds Brittany of one of her favorite teachers at her old school, “Have a seat, Sweet Cheeks.”

Brittany does as she’s told and gets settled next to Santana. She can feel the tension radiating off the Cheerio, but tries to ease it by introducing herself.

“I’m Brittany,” She tells the brunette and adds a friendly smile for emphasis. If she’s going to be stuck sitting next to her for the rest of the year, they can at least be civil. Right?

Wrong.

“I didn’t ask,” Santana retorts and spends the rest of class giving Brittany the cold shoulder.

For some reason though, that only makes Brittany want to get to know Santana even more.

Afterall, she loves a challenge.

\\\\\

It’s the last Cheerios practice indoors and Santana and Quinn soak up the privilege of conditioning in a space with A.C. There are many reasons why Santana dreads having to join football team outdoors for practice, one being that it’s hot as hell still during this time of year and also she can’t stand the cat-calling.

With Coach Beiste as the acting head coach now, the guys are a lot more tame but Santana still hates how she feels like she’s being watched all the time. Some of the other girls on the squad don’t mind it too much though, they’re all about teasing and the pleasing apparently.

“How’s your schedule this year?” Quinn asks between stretches.

“It’s alright,” Santana shrugs, “Super easy. I got Holliday and Schuester again.”

“Lucky!” Quinn says, “I got Hagberg. I wish she would just retire already.”

Santana agrees then she remembers her last class of the day and how the mysterious blonde from Puck’s party now has a name, “Hey. Remember that girl we saw at Puck’s?”

“The blonde one?”

“Yeah, her. Brittany,” Santana murmurs the name, “I have a class with her.”

“Oh! Is she cool or something?” Quinn’s intrigued, “She’s pretty and she’s got some moves. We could get her on the squad?”

Pretty, Santana thinks it’s an understatement now that she’s seen her up close. She’s never seen eyes so damn blue and that smile – again, wow.

Quinn catches her swept up in her thoughts and quickly plays it off, “Hell no.”

“Really? Why not?”

“She’s just…,” Santana racks her brain for an excuse but she’s blanking, “She’s just not Cheerios material.”

Quinn calls her bluff, “How would you know?”

“I just do,” Santana scoffs and continues to struggle for a reason, “There’s something different about her, okay?”

“Different is good though, right? We could use that.”

“God Quinn, just drop it alright?” Santana snaps and walks off.

Quinn just laughs in disbelief, “You’re the one that brought her up!”

The rest of the week is a little of the same. Santana goes through the motions of her day although a hidden piece of her longs for her last class with Brittany. She still ignores the blonde’s attempts to make conversation, but it doesn’t seem like the girl is giving up anytime soon.

Quinn still presses for Brittany to join the squad, but Santana’s not having any of that either.

Quinn can’t understand why Santana’s being so adamant about the decision. Santana doesn’t know why either. In fact, there are a lot of things Santana doesn’t understand when it comes to Brittany, but she’s not exactly ready to unpack any of that.

If anything, she’s afraid of what it all could mean.

It isn’t until Friday night that things begin to get a little clearer for them all.

It’s the first regular season game which means it’s the first game the Cheerios make an appearance in. The Titans are pumped but Santana isn’t sure what’s gotten into them, they never win so cheering for them always feels like a waste of time. There’s a different air about the team this year though, but Santana doesn’t think much of it as the game kicks off.

Santana and Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios do what they do best and breathe life into the crowd like always, but they find that they don’t need to work as hard to keep morale up because the Titans are actually winning for a change.

In fact, Santana has to check the score twice to make sure she’s reading it correctly.

Home: 9 Away: 0

“What the hell?” Santana bumps Quinn with her pompom, “We’re winning?”

“Weird, right?” Quinn replies and nods over to the Titans’ bench, “Wonder if it has anything to do with that?”

Santana blinks, “Is that Finnocence?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Santana snaps back to the field, “Then who’s out there?”

“Sam?” Quinn questions but they know he’s #6 and #6 is on the other side of the field catching a perfectly thrown pass.

They both look to the quarterback and Santana asks, “Who’s #12?”

“No idea,” Quinn shrugs, “But he’s killing it!”

Santana doesn’t know much about football but she does know a lot about winning and whatever this guy is doing seems to be working.

Santana and Quinn spend the rest of the game trying to figure out who’s beneath #12’s helmet, but decide that someone already on the team must’ve been given a new number with the promotion to quarterback.

There’s really no other explanation.

All that though is quickly forgotten as the game ends and the Titans come away with their first win of the regular season. It’s practically unheard of considering their losing streak. The stands erupt in applause and Santana watches as the Titans go wild too. Sam and Mike hoist #12 onto their shoulders as the quarterback pulls of his helmet.

When Santana sees long blonde hair cascade out from underneath it, she just about faints because the Titans’ new quarterback isn’t some random guy: it’s Brittany.

“Well,” Quinn’s equally surprised and bumps Santana with her shoulder, “Looks like you were right about her being different.”

#cant stop wont stop lol #no really its bc im still unemployed and writing is the only thing that makes me feel like i'm doing something productive while i job hunt #Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction

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