#either i need to go to bed or this is the funniest joke i’ve ever made in my life

[hedghost]

english woso commentators asking a spanish full back if she’s ever tripped over:

[alittletaste]

SKIN CARE & AWARD SHOWS

↳ In which Harry uses a face mask before the Brits and has a deep conversation with y/n

Warning: sweet sweet fluff and a little article at the end! Please reblog and show some love if you enjoyed, i appreciate it! Anyways, have fun reading :)

-

It was no secret that Harry took care of his skin, from the very get-go, the first concert he ever had to perform, the night before, he stood in front of his mirror applying his face mask. And now ten years on, he was sitting on his bed, his beautiful wife sat opposite him, slathering his soft skin with a layer of creamy goodness.

“Harry, stop wiggling!” She whined, trying her best to smooth out the cream all over his perfect face. Harry smiles, listening to his wife, but not before cheekily sticking his tongue out and licking her hand that was hovering over his lips as she applied the mask to his nose.

“Oi!” She giggled, playfully slapping her annoyingly handsome husband on his thigh causing him to let out a belly laugh. “God, you’re so annoying”

“You love it though” he smiles, “it’s why you married me” Y/n rolls her eye, as she works on applying the face mask onto his forehead. She appreciates the headband Harry put on earlier, to keep his unruly locks out of her way.

“Is this the pore cleanser one?” Harry asked, looking at his wife, he was in awe of her. To him, his wife was the most beautiful person to ever grace the earth. To him, she was his everything. Harry often finds himself saying that he would be lost without her, he wouldn’t know what to do. Apparently, y/n keeps his head screwed on, she grounds him and sometimes humbles him. It’s what a man needs, he says, someone to not only love you but to keep you sane and make sure your ego doesn’t inflate too much.

“Mhm, it also calms the skin, helps any breakouts. I know you get some before a show, so this is perfect” y/n says as she finally applies the mask to his chin. She knew it’d be a good time to bring this mask out seeing as the Brits were approaching. The Brits meant a lot to Harry, his whole family would be watching and as he was opening the show, y/n knew he’d hate for a breakout to start right before.

“So thoughtful” Harry hums softly and a smile tugs on his face as his wife pulls back, inspecting her work. “Done?” He questions, earning a nod from his partner.

“All done” she smiles. “Just got to wait until it hardens now” she says.

“Whilst the mask hardens, I’ve got something else for you that I’m sure would harden up in a second” he smirks, eyeing his own junk, and y/n rolls her eyes as she realises what he’s referring to

“God, you just had to go and ruin the moment, didn't you? You can’t help yourself mister” she giggles and Harry laughs.

“It’s hard to contain myself around you, you’re m’everything. Y’know that, right?” Harry smiles, tucking y/ns hair behind her ear as he tugs her over towards himself.

“Be careful!” She warns as Harry ends up on his back, y/n now straddling him. “Don’t want to ruin my masterpiece” she spoke, referring to the face mask.

“Oh no! Would never want to do that, what a tragedy that would be” sarcasm thick in Harry’s voice. It was one of the many things y/n loved about him; his humour. It was very British, but also very funny. To y/n, Harry was the funniest man on the planet, but she didn’t dare tell him that, why boost the ego of a man who had millions of people going crazy over him any more than it already was? To y/n, Harry was also the sweetest, the best thing to happen to her. He came into her life and made it so much better, God what would she do without him and his humour to get her through the day?

“You’re so adorable” y/n speaks, her hands on Harry’s chest as she took him in, some parts of the facemask were now hardening, like the part around his nose and beneath his eyes.

“That should be my line” Harry jokes, “but thank you, baby. You’re not too bad either”

“You’re such a meanie” she pouts and Harry reaches up to carefully pull her lips towards his own, there was no doubt that some of his face mask had transferred onto y/ns face but she didn’t mind.

“I’m only kidding baby” he says, pulling back, “I was serious before y’know that? You’re my everything, my most favourite person. Sometimes, it blows my mind, like I actually found my person you know?” He ponders.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it? I’m glad to be your person, I love you so much” smiling, she leans in for another kiss.

“I love you so much too, I’m happy to call you my person” Harry says, gently squeezing his wife’s side, happy that he found his lifelong companion and soulmate, happy that he knew he’d wake up to the same person by his side every day for the rest of his life, something he thought would once be impossible. You proved all his inner thoughts wrong and he couldn’t be happier.

And he certainly showed his appreciation when he won his four Brit awards, thanking you in each and every speech.

-

A CLEAN SWEEP FOR STYLES! HARRY STEALS THE SHOW WITH HIS BIG FOUR WINS

The former one direction star won all four Brits he was nominated for, including best album and best artist.

It was no surprise when Harry opened the show with his hit song, As it was, which later went on to win song of the year. Fans were, as expected, chanting the anthem back at him.

Styles looked absolutely amazing tonight, sporting four different looks for this occasion. Onlookers went on to say that although he looked absolutely stunning tonight and did have his fair share of jokes with the crowd, he made it quiet obvious that he is a happily married man.

During his acceptance speeches, Harry didn’t fail to recognise and shout out his wife, Y/n Styles, going on to say that she was his “forever muse” and that he would be “no where without her”

He also thanked his mum for pushing him to audition at x-factor, claiming that he “wouldn’t be standing here” if it weren’t for her. One thing we all know for certain is that Harry is a family man and we love him for that.

Even during his post award show interview, Harry was seen thanking his wife with a kiss on her lips before talking about how she was “always there for him” and this “album would be impossible to make without her” so cheers to y/n for these bangers.

He also mentioned how he was planning on “having a drink” so we hope he has a great rest of the night! A true champion like him deserves that.

[brightlotusmoon]

I'm going through the document @remmushound and I have been transferring our RP to, and I found a really sweet scene between Rise Donatello and Bayverse Donnie. Rise Donatello has constructed a brand new body for Shelldon and is proudly showing Bay Donnie. In this context, the Shredder's attack on the lair resulted in Oroku Saki and Karai both being brought into the physical lair after Bay Mikey did an astral plane energy thing.

-

Donnie was attentive as ever, but really all he could do was coo and trill happily, and with each listed benefit he looked it over carefully.

“What do you think?” Donatello asked, hands clasped as he gave a nervous whine.

Donnie took one last thorough look, then sat back on his heels. "I'm in awe. This is incredibly advanced robotics. You're amazing, Don."

Donatello looked almost ready to cry, bouncing with the praise before he was able to contain himself and try to play it cool.

“Yeh, I knew I was good. Totally didn’t need affirmation or whatever. Psshh.”

"Awww. C'mere." Donnie held out an arm.

Donatello immediately dropped the facade and did a trust-fall into Donnie’s arm.

Donnie brought him close to his body and squished him. "Yeah you did. You deserve affirmation. You always have."

Donatello squinted his eyes closed and practically melted into the hold. “I was starting to think it was stupid…”

"No!" Genuine shock colored Donnie's mournful tone. "What? No! Never!"

“I’m not usually… really good with robotics. Sheldon’s the only thing I’ve made that hasn’t constantly fallen apart.”

"Really? I wouldn't have thought that at all."

“Well it's true. I couldn’t even fix a performance robot without messing it up." Donatello frowned.

"Heck, my drone isn't perfect, either," Donnie admitted. "Shelldon is a marvel of engineering."

“I mean— when he started out, he was just a head. Then he turned out… you know, sapient, and I felt bad for not giving him more.” More frowning.

Donnie stared at Donatello with glittering eyes. "Donnie... that's extraordinary. Do you realize that?"

“What?” Donatello looked back up at him finally.

Donnie engulfed the smaller turtle, murmuring, "You're extraordinary. I'm going to keep telling you that."

“Good, cause I love hearing it.”

Donnie pulled back to gaze at him. "Good. I need to hear you say that."

“That.” Donatello echoed. “There, it is said.”

Donnie grinned, then laughed. "Fantastic.

“Yes! Yes I am!”

"Yes you are!"

“Yeee!” Donatello gave a happy wiggle. “I still wanna do some final touches and double check the wires before I show it to Shelldon though.”

"I'd love to help!"

“Yaaay!" Donatello cackled "The first phase of world Don-Mination!”

"Say that around my Raph, he'll take it seriously. Mikey and I joke about it enough."

“Wanna try and convince him it’s real?”

"Hmmm." Donnie slowly tapped his chin. "Yes. I'm just immediately going through potential funniest scenarios."

“We’ll share with the class, don’t be stingy!”

Donnie rattled off ideas on all his fingers. "...although, no zombies, he hates that."

“Darn. What about skeletons? Do those count as zombies?”

"Hmmno. Because they're bones. No flesh to fall off."

“Great. I love loopholes!” Donatello spun a few times and then fell backward onto his bed.

-

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD Imajin Webshop Tokuten Drama CD “Delicious Pasta and Macaroons”

Original title: 美味しいパストとマカロン

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS Imajin Tokuten Drama CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi, Hirakawa Daisuke & Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: While this is not the funniest tokuten I’ve ever listened to, I still did enjoy it quite a bit. I was mostly just captivated by Reiji’s voice, especially during the begnning of the CD. I don’t know why, but he sounds kind of different in this one? His voice is just so calm and soothing, I love listening to it. ;w; Meanwhile Laito and Kou are a troublesome combination so I felt bad for Reiji for having to keep up with their selfish tantrums. xD

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*Cling*

Reiji: Nn...Haahー Nothing like a good cup of tea. I suppose this is what one would call true bliss. This teacup I ordered as well - while brand-new- seems to fit perfectly in my hand, it is only enhancing the flavor of the tea.

Laito: Heya~ Re・i・ji・kun~!

Reiji: ...What do you want, Laito? Why are you grinning like that? Furthermore, that nickname makes me want to gag. I am not in the mood for your mischief.

Laito: Nfu~ Who cares what I call you? More importantly...Say, I have this little request~?

Reiji: The answer is no.

Laito: Eeeehー!? How rude! You haven’t even heard it yet!

Reiji: A request from you could only mean trouble. There is no point in listening to it. 

*Cling*

Laito: Wow, talk about mean. At least hear me out first! I wasn’t going to ask you to join Bitch-chan and I in our SM adventures or anything!

Reiji: Please do no spout such vile things, even if only meant as a joke. If you were to suggest such a thing, you better believe I am mixing poison in your meal at the next banquet.

Laito: Nfu~ I wouldn’t want that either. ...Anyway, right now I’m just dying toーー!`

Reiji: Dying to...?

Laito: Dying to...eat macarons! ...For some reason, I always get really bad cravings for them at this time of day. But you see, I already finished all of them ones I bought yesterday.

Reiji: So? Are you perhaps telling me I should make you some macarons?

Laito: Exactly! I expected no less from you, Reiji! Seems like you know me very well! You’re my onii-chan after all~

Reiji: No. Cut it out. You are giving me goosebumps.

Laito: Eeeh~!? Cruel! Is it really that much trouble to make me a few macarons real quick? 

Reiji: Why must I feel obligated to make them only for you? Make them yourself if you wish to eat them so badly.

Laito: Eeh~? Too much trouble! Besides, there’s no way I could actually pull that off. 

Reiji: Then...Simply wait until the stores open again. It’s almost morning so I’m sure you’ll manage. You’re not a child after all.

Laito: ...That’s easy for you to say. I can already taste the macarons on the tip of my tongue though~

Reiji: ...What do you mean? Good grief. 

*Ding dong ・ ding dong*

Reiji: ...?

Laito: Oh? A guest at this hour? That’s uncommon.

Reiji: Who could it be? ...I suppose I’ll go have a look. 

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji opens the door.

*Creaaak*

Kou: Good evening, yahoo~!

Reiji: You are...

Kou: Geez! No need to make it so obvious that I’m not welcome here! Reiji-kun and...Oh, you’re here as well. 

Laito: This is my house after all. Should I not be? If I recall correctly, you’re Mukami...Kou-kun, right?

Kou: Bingo~! The one and only! Fufu~

Reiji: What brings you here at this time of day? I was going to head to bed soon, you see...

Kou: Oh, I see. Guess I’ll cut straight to the chase then! To put it shortly, there’s something I’d like to ask you, Reiji-kun.

Reiji: Me? ...I do not believe I am in any position to listen to your request.

Kou: Oh come on, don’t say that~ Reiji-kun...you’re a really skilled cook, aren’t you~? 

Reiji: I’ve heard that your own elder brother’s culinary skills are nothing to scoff at either, though?

Kou: Ahー I can’t ask Ruki-kun anymore. He finally snapped after I kept on pestering him to make me vongole bianco every single day so he lashed out at me and told me he’ll never make it again.

Laito: Don’t tell me you’re...hoping that Reiji will make you some instead? 

Kou: Yup, yup, exactly! Vongole bianco is basically my life energy, you see! I just can’t go a single day without it! In other words, I need to have it practically every day!

Reiji: I decline. 

Kou: Eeeh, why!? I promise I’ll pay for the ingredients!

Reiji: That is not the issue. Or rather, I thought the four of you held a grudge against our family? 

You sure have some audicity to come here waltzing in late at night and demand food. 

Kou: Eeeeh...!?

Laito: My thoughts exactly! Besides, Reiji was just about to make my macarons so...sorry~?

Reiji: Laito. I will not make any macarons.

Kou: There! Did you hear him? He won’t make any macarons. So instead, make some vongole bianco for me!

Laito: Not a chance! He will make my macarons first!

Kou: No, no, he literally just said he won’t. 

Laito: You say that, but your request got turned down straight away as well. He ‘s barely even willing to listen to what you have to say, so don’t make me laugh,

Kou: Haah...!? ...Ahー This is kind of making me feel irritated. Or rather, this guy pisses me off. For starters, macarons don’t even count as a proper do they? In that regard, my request is an actual main dish. ーー REAL FOOD. DO YOU GET WHAT I’M SAYING!? 

Laito: Hah!? Don’t talk as if you know how important macarons are to mーー

Reiji: SILENCE! 

*THUD*

Laito & Kou: ...!? 

Reiji: ...You lot. Who exactly do you think I am? As a simple Four-eyes who happens to enjoy cooking?

Kou: ...That’s exactly what you are, no? 

Reiji: ...!

Laito: Nfu~ Well...I’ll agree with you on that. Reiji is a bespectacled amateur chef~!

Reiji: ...!? Ah-aah...Fine! I understand! If you choose to be that persistent, I will play your game! I happen to have a great plan.

Kou: Ah! Now we’re talking! As fellow Vampires living in the same area, we have to show our charity every now and then~

Reiji: Allow me to make both the macarons and the vongole bianco the two of you requested. However!

Laito: ...However?

Reiji: You have to promise that you will clean your plate. Understood? 

Laito: Of course! I love the macarons you make after all! Nfu~

Kou: You really think I would leave a single bite of vongole bianco? It’s my favorite food!

Reiji: Very well. I will make sure you keep that promise. 

Reiji walks away.

*TIMESKIP*

*THUD*

Reiji: Voila! No more complaints, I assume? 

Laito: Uu...! This... Reiji...What on earth is this?

Kou: It looks like a plate of pasta but...what are these strange, colorful things on top? 

Reiji: ‘Reiji’s special vongole bianco, topped with seasonal macarons in various colors.’

Laito: Eeh...!? Don’t tell me...you mixed macarons with pasta? 

Reiji: I did not mix them. I simply put the macarons on top. As a result, they have been soaking up the sauce from the vongole bianco. Just take a look. Fufufu...

Kou: Eeeh...~? There’s just no way...The flavors of macaron and clams? ...That’s a match made in hell. Poor little Vongole Bianco-chan...

Laito: It looks awful as well...This garish color...This is the very definition of a forbidden relation, made up of two things which should have never been put together...

Aah~ When I think of it like that, it’s making me a little excited...Nfu~

Reiji: The two of you made a promise, did you not? To clean your plate. 

Kou: ...

Kou tries to run but Reiji quickly catches him.

*Rustle rustle*

*THUD*

Kou: ...!?

Laito: R-Reiji...!? 

Reiji: You will eat it, no? 

Kou: I-I will...I promise! ーー I shouldn’t leave any food. Food is valuable...Food is precious...

Laito: I don’t want to but...I’m scared of Reiji, so I will. ーー Kou-kun, please have the honor of taking the first bite! I mean, this dish is obviously more pasta than macaron. Nfu~

Kou: Oh no no! I’m fine! You can go first! 

Laito & Kou: ...

Reiji: ...Heh. I suggest you hurry up or the pasta will go cold, you know? Oh dear? Or perhaps I should say the macarons will?

Laito: Say...I don’t think we’ll ever come to an agreement as to who will take the first bite. 

Kou: Good point...

Laito: Haah...I would love to do this with a girl instead but let’s make an exception today and feed each other.

Kou: Feed...? Why? 

Laito: Then we’d be forced to eat it, right? I just can’t see myself willingly putting this unidentified pasta-and-macaron fusion inside my own mouth...

Kou: Aah...I see. I agree with that. It can’t be helped. I’m not too thrilled about doing this with another guy but...I guess at least I’ll have no trouble forcing this horrible concoction down the throat of someone I don’t give a damn about.

Reiji: How rude. Watch your words. Might I remind you that my culinary skills rival those of even a professional chef.

Laito: Don’t get upset, Reiji. We’ll actually eat it!

Kou: ...Ready. Here it comes...

*Cling* 

Laito: Ah-aah~ This is the first time I’ve felt so disappointed while having someone feed me. 

*Cling*

Reiji: Fufufu...Come on, hurry up and take a bite.

Kou: ...A-Aaahn...

Laito: Ugh...Aaahnー...

Kou: Mmh...Mmpph...Hm? 

Laito: ...Mmh? ...Mmhー!!

Kou: ...Nnh! Dewiwious...!! (1)

Reiji: Excuse me!? Swallow before you speak! Do you have no manners? 

Kou: Argh...Swowwy, swowwy!

Laito: ...It’s good! Amazing! Why!? How!? I would have never thought the combination of vongole bianco and macarons could be this delicious...!! Reiji, could you be...!?

Kou: ーー A genius!?

Reiji: Hah! Did I not tell you? ...For one, I would never waste precious ingredients. Well then, you two, is there not something you should say to me? 

Laito: Sorry...! For calling you a bespectacled amateur chef. ...You’re a bespectacled PROFESSIONAL chef. Right~?

Kou: Yeah, yeah! I feel bad too! From here on out, you’ll be a Four-eyes who is REALLY good at cooking inside my head!

Reiji: Ugh...You can drop the part referring to my glasses, honestly. Good grief...Oh well, I suppose it is fine as long as you realize how amazing I am. 

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji: Haah...

*Rustle*

Reiji: Good grief...I have finished all preparations for dinner, so I suppose I should call it a day soーー

*Ding ・ dong*

Reiji: Hm? Who could that be at this time of day? 

Reiji walks over to the door.

*Creaaak*

Reiji: Who is there?

Kou: Hey there~! Thank you so much for the delicious pasta you made the other day!

Reiji: ...!? Kou...! You haven’t learn from your past mistakes and are here to beg for food again, aren’t you!? 

Kou: Mm~ That too but...

*Rustle rustle*

Kou: Here, carry this!

Reiji: Wha...!? What is this!? 

*Thud* 

Reiji: Would you care explain what this mountain of luggage is about?

Kou: It’s all my stuff. 

Reiji: Hah...? 

Kou: I figured I would move into this house for a few days and indulge in all of the delicious food! Thanks for having me!

Reiji: W-What are you saying...!? No. 

Kou: Fufu~ Don’t worry! ...Pardon the intrusion!

Kou walks inside.

Kou: Phew~ I totally get why people assume this place is haunted! It’s super old...but I don’t mind, no worries! The food’s great after all~ 

Reiji: ...!! H-Hold up! Ah, you shouldn’t go there! That’sーー!

*Thud*

Reiji: I would have made that pasta disgusting if I had known this would happen...! Good grief...! Ah, hey! Halt!!

Reiji chases after him.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Kou talks with his mouth full of food here, so this isn’t a typo but actually an intended misspelling of the word ‘delicious’. 

[dollslayer]

Okie I’m not sure if you are taking requests or not, but I’m throwing my towel in the ring. Idk if you watched Scandal or not but the scene where Liv tells Fitz “if you want me earn me” I think would be great for one of CE’s characters, I’m personally leaning towards either SR where it’s an AU and Peggy is still in the picture or Andy where he’s not fully divorced from Laurie but getting there and he’s already started an affair with reader and this is the ultimatum he needed to fully finalize the divorce.

A/N: I've actually never received a request before!! So I'm down! I don't write for Andy bc I haven't seen DJ so I went with Steve and Peggy. I spun it a little bit differently but hopefully you enjoy it! Thank you for the prompt and stopping by my inbox! 💖

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warnings: Angst, secret relationship, love triangles

You sat in the corner of the pub, simmering behind your bottle of beer. Everyone else was leaning against the bar, laughing and joking. A successful break for the Commandos and SSR called for a night of celebration.

But you were in no mood to celebrate, it was your code breaking that ended up saving the day but no one paid you any thanks. Festivities went on around you but you sat still at a dusty table and picked at the label of your beer. Your thoughts were consumed entirely by the jealousy and hurt you felt watching his hands slip around her waist. Whatever she must’ve said just now had to have been the funniest thing on Earth because that’s how Steve reacted. His eyes crinkled in the corners and his grip on her tightened. He looked warm and comfortable and she looked right at home in his arms.

Peggy Carter was sexy and confident, she was a symbol of hope and ambition and she was the perfect compliment to Steve. Steve had insisted that their relationship was ‘just for show’ and that they needed to keep appearances, people expected a certain image from Steve Rogers and they needed morale to stay high if they wanted to keep defeating Hydra.

He insists time and again that he doesn’t love her, but it’s something he has to do for the good of the group. He insists that you don’t understand, but that he loves you very much and when all this is over you’ll be together in Brooklyn.

That dream feels a million miles away right now as you witness her place a kiss on his cheek. With that you’ve had enough for one night. You’re hurt and humiliated and you can’t even tell anyone why. You leave the pub for your quarters before anyone can see you cry. Steve doesn’t even notice you’ve left.

Your walk back to your quarters is brisk, bitter tears making their way down your cheeks. You had told yourself at the beginning of all this that you could live with it. Steve was yours in private and he did love you, that’s what mattered, right?

The relationship between them feels too real for them to just be putting on airs. He respected Peggy, respected her opinion. He always wanted to hear what she had to say and he listened deeply with intent every time she did. Any time you tried to contribute you were bowled over in an instant and never once had he stood up for you.

It felt like Peggy was everything you’re not in his eyes, afterall she was the ‘image’ he was going for. So what did that make you? Would you ever be enough? If you made it back to Brooklyn would he hold your hand in the street? Would he kiss your cheek and laugh at your jokes? Would he love you like he says he does?

Your mind was trapped in this downward spiral of thoughts and you hadn’t heard Steve enter the room. He came up behind you and kissed your cheek but it felt cold and mechanical. You didn’t turn to face him, you couldn’t.

“Fun night, huh?”

You don’t respond, you feign indifference as you slowly rise from your chair. You realize you hadn’t even removed your jacket or shoes so you shrug off the sleeves slowly. You feel like your heart is in your throat, tight and dry. You can feel yourself working up the nerve to confront him, you just need a little push.

You can���t let yourself back down from this again. Can’t let him talk you down again. It’s you or her. If he loves you like he says he does, why are you consumed by a feeling of imminent dread?

“What’s wrong, doll? You feeling okay? Peggy said you were looking a little tired, figured you’d gone to bed. I hadn’t even realized you dipped out, wanted to check in.”

Your sadness turned to anger at that point. Was he really so daft to have no idea what was going on or was he choosing to? You almost didn’t want the answer.

“Didn’t want to ruin your good time. Not when you were so… cozy” You finish bitterly.

Steve sighs and begins to pace the room.

“Sweetheart, not this conversation again”

“No! I’m sick of this, I’m tired of being treated like a doll, you think you can just pick me up to play with whenever you want and I’ll just be there waiting for you. Meanwhile you don’t even pay me one bit of your attention when we’re out there. You can’t keep stringing me along like this, Steve.”

You’re talking with your hands and getting angrier by the second, you can’t stop yourself now.

“Look, you know if things were different-”

“Things? You mean me? If I was different? If I was her? I’m so sick of never being enough for you. God forbid anyone ever gets the idea that we’re together in any sense. Do you know how humiliating it is? How much it hurts?”

You angrily wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. Your whole head is throbbing but if you don’t say this now you might never.

“It’s me or her, your image be damned.” You grab your jacket and head for the door. “I’m worth so much more than you think I am. If you want me then earn me, Steve.”

With that you close the door behind you and leave Steve to mull over your words. The streets are damp and cold but you don’t care. A part of you can’t believe you finally said it but another part reassures you it was the right thing to do. You are worth more than being someone’s backup plan. It’s up to Steve to realize that.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Aarakocra Boyfriend: Enzo

This is for 2,000 of you lovely people following me. Thank you all so much! <3 This took more than a week to write, all thanks to writer’s block and burnout, so I’m thankful that I somehow managed to get this out lol. 

Also, may or may not have gotten inspiration from Revali-- anyway, enjoy!

Part 2

Relationship: male monster x female reader

Burning Heart

Fresh snow. Fresh snow that had fallen a hundred-foot deep, cleansing the land for eternity.

"The last time I saw snow this deep, I was just a little boy, still clutched to my mother, unaware of how big the world was." Your companion marvelled. "My father was smart enough to never go further up north—he reminded me. I did not gain his intellect."

Calder was a man who came from the nearby town of Ravensfell, a few days out from Briar, but he had been more of a cold type when it came to first-time introductions. Eventually, you got to open up more of him, little by little. His olive skin, chiselled features and rugged beard made him every female's focus, but the poor man was either too oblivious or polite to acknowledge their flirtations. You couldn't help but laugh at the failed interactions. Poor man, too preoccupied in his own toil.

He became a well-appreciated acquaintance for you on your long travels from town to town, east to west then south to north, but his company was all good experience. After all, he was the best sellsword for the job, merely a guard for you whilst you continued your researches; the sight you needed when you turned your back.

Your team's campaign had led you and your small faction to head further up north, to a small village of Oakendenn full of proud and efficient warriors, the bird folk that had carried the same customs for centuries, evoking both fear and wonder into those who bumped into them. Granted, their seclusion from the world had been brought down quickly when travellers and researchers intent on learning about them came rushing at the chance, ruining their solitude for good.

Stepping foot into their quaint town was certainly a spectacle, having to meet your guide to finding such remains high up in the mountains of Fallde Slopes– if the slopes didn't kill you, the snowstorms could freeze the group within hours if they didn't take the right precautions or clothing.

"You say there is a guide who will help us?" The small dirk in your hand was smooth and unused, still brand new as the day you had gotten it. You were situated in the town itself, in a cramped yet warm inn that was all opened up to the elements, trying to remain unaware of the cold stares of the innkeepers.

"He's one of the finest warriors, apparently. Familiar to the lands and every speck of snow that litters this land," Calder's laugh was hearty. "Must pity us for our lack of feathers and wings."

"The Aarakocras are fierce, brutal they are with fighting as they are as with foreigners." If there was one thing you learnt, it was that not all the people you ran into would be so welcoming. "Careful you don't offend them. We need their apparent aid."

Calder grumbled something as he tended to the flames of the room, poking them occasionally. "Sooner to be done with this job and we can get out of their feathers, huh?"

"That's it, just think of it like that. And soon, you can be back to the warmth of the south."

"Thank the Gods," Calder smiled sadly. "I don't think I could spend another day away from my little Zerlina." You remembered the girl when you were riding out: a sad, tearful girl the spitting image of her father, tight dark hair so wild and knotted. You had remembered the night before the trip you had brushed them out gently for her the way your mother used to do for you. Just to help Calder out.

The poor man is a good father overall. Even if he doesn't see it.

"She'll be so happy to see you again, Calder. She misses her father dearly." You reassured quietly, watching the man again. He was worn and beaten, littered with scars and thick, burly arms. He longed for home too.

"I hope so too." He stretched, saying his goodnights to you and the others before heading to his cot to sleep. You followed, heading to your own bed before you couldn't find sleep, wishing you had someone to wait for you too.

Even when you remained aloof, you still tried to remain somewhat friendly to strangers, even to the guide who had gone out of his way into helping you. But they certainly what you had been expected.

"It seems I have to be a tour guide for your pesky expedition, hmm?"

The smile from nerves of introducing yourself to him had fallen from your face after hearing the words so sourly come from him. It didn't take much for you to build up the walls high again.

Your hand faltered, just in reach for him to shake, awkwardly pulling away. "So, you're the Enzo we were expecting?"

The first thing you noticed about him was how vivid his feathers were: the brightest compared to his countrymen. Many of reds, oranges and yellows, like red sands of the far south of your home; beaten and threaded like a thousand coppers. It made the winter sun far in the north much more lively. By far the prettiest of the others. You admitted, but only could you wish his personality was as lovely as his appearance.

Another thing you noticed about him was his wings: they were separate from his body, large and tucked behind his back, his hands similar to any humans but with long and curled nails for fingers. His bird body was dressed in what looked like traditional garbs: leather and a basic tunic and pants, his taloned feet poking out and tapping against the ground.

"Your boss was the one who called for me, asking if someone capable of knowing their way around these parts, clearly, you humans don't know much about us Aarakocras," he jeered, eyes a lovely golden colour even when they were staring intimidatingly down at you. "So, you're the one they call the Doctor?"

Clearly too prideful, I've noticed. You scoffed. All too stubborn like the snowstorms. "That is correct."

"So I've noticed," Enzo crossed his arms around his broad chest, the amusement was pooled in those eyes as if he was in on the funniest joke around. "Clearly all of your studies have gone to a degree than in common sense."

You pondered whether it would've been ideal to punch the bird square in the face, or whether provoking him would end with your untimely demise.

Instead, you squared your shoulders, straightening your posture as you pointed just behind him. "You see Fallde Slopes over there? Its hills have been receding in the last 100 years, meaning any day now, your village could be woken up buried under layers and layers of snow. The snow stops here, meaning you and your people could be facing the demolition of this region and its inhabitants." You crossed your arms too, copying him. "I'm just trying to help unless you think my studies had gone elsewhere?"

Enzo scoffed, a puff of feathers that ruffled up. "Let's just resume to what we're good at, hmm?"

-

If travelling anywhere had taught you anything, it was that you shouldn't trust any higher-ups, believing everything will be smooth sailing.

The reports and samples scattered across the slopes, dancing dangerously too low to the cliff edges, some succumbing more than others, and those in your group scrambled to save them. Enzo remained arrogant as ever, doing little to help and rather smugly watching the ordeal, complaining often that your group were "walking too slow" and "we were running out of time for sunlight".

You were situated in the corner, silently taking note of what was around of little life preserved, before the beating of wings perked your ears. Snow crunched delicately when the Aarakocra stooped beside you, watching with soundless intent.

"So, this is what you do?" He grazed at a small patch of dirt you had brought up beneath the heavy snow. "Looking at dirt and grass?"

"All of this hold important information for us to understand how the landscape is changing," Enzo couldn't help but to have his attention piqued when he heard how almost automatic your response was, informing rather than belittling him. When you looked up to meet his eyes, it was hard to gauge his reaction: head tilted, seemingly drawn in from how far leant to you he was beside you.

He quickly dismissed it, pulling back from the noticeable closeness, and the burning feeling in your chest fluttered too quickly for your liking. "Whatever keeps us alive, I suppose."

Another presence came over to the two of you, heavier than of the Aarakocra. "You think you could help me with this?" Calder was looking over at Enzo, who, also was staring with narrowed eyes at the bearded man.

"Yeah sure," you gave an awkward glance to both men, realising something was piercing the silent air. "Is something going on?"

"No," Enzo, puffed his chest out, giving Calder little regard as he turned his head. "You go off with your dog, I'm needed elsewhere."

You watched him walk away before turning back to Calder, head tilted. "I'm going to pretend nothing happened there."

"Agreed," Calder affirmed, pointing you towards the deeper parts of the woods where the treelines met and increased in sizes and numbers. "I think I might've found something."

"Lead the way." You gestured for him to take the lead, directing you through the trees. The snow was freshest in these parts, untouched and light, airy. A wonderland was discovered in a small corner forgotten from the world. Beautiful. You marvelled. I will never get bored of seeing this.

"What's wrong, Calder?" He stopped you when the two of you reached the middle of the area, overwatching the large view, the mountains dipped and the view from the top pointed directing to the Oakendenn, situated right in the opening of the valley. "It's right in target," Calder addressed, thick eyebrows knitted. "And that means a direct hit for the snow to collapse in on it all."

"We could have a day, week or years before this region is completely smothered." You noted wretchedly. All these reports, research and hypothesis, yet you felt like it all went to no use. It seemed like everything was too late, that hard work going down the drain. "I wish we could've done more."

"And we have, do not fret," Calder reassured, patting your shoulder that you needed from a comforting friend. "And we will do so much more. Let's head back to the others, keep all together."

Right, but still, I feel useless. You dusted the remaining snow off your warm clothes, trying to remind yourself of the crunching snow below, your foot sinking with every few steps. Like everyone relies on you all the time. The only sounds that were heard were the distinct soft crunches of the two of you heading back, before one wretched and horrid resounded, echoing along with the trees, some birds fleeing from their branches of homes.

You looked back to Calder, who looked back in confusion, listening closely to the cracking of the earth as if it had split open. Your right felt for a second as if it was sinking lower, taking your body with you as all your body weight brought you down so suddenly, snow following too, making your body crash into it with force as you waded chest-deep through it.

Your voice was sudden and nervous, watching the ledge you once stood at grow taller and taller above you, a weightless feeling take over your body, the scream of your name as unknown darkness settled around you before you could hit the ground.

-

The first time you had seen snow, you had been seven, marvelling in wonder with friends at how magical it all seemed. Never did you worry about the eternal cold, of it encasing your entire body and leaving you worthless and alone. You always had the warmth to rely on: warm blankets and hot cocoa and fire to share stories around. The cold was sore and biting, an eternity of nothingness but yourself.

You didn't know how long you had been trapped in darkness: how long you had gone unnoticed or remembered. Maybe this was it... just oblivion and emptiness. You tried to invasion your limbs, your fingers trying to tread through the snow like it was water; too thick to even pass through, but trying and trying to feel your fingers and toes wiggle again.

You clawed and clawed slowly until the darkness lightened and that bleakness turned to hope. You kicked your body out as you breached the surface, coughing and spluttering weakly, an invasion of pure cold and ice felt trapped in your throat.

You laid there with your head against a block of solid ice and snow, trying to steady your breathing, the cold and winds were never-ending, never giving your body a break as all felt numb.

I'm going to die out here. You thought. Will my story be told again? You wanted to laugh, to call for help, but your throat was stinging from its frostiness.

There was a distant, soft sound of tree branches moving and swaying, how the dead leaves swayed and moved with long, drawn moans, wings of small birds flying off from the abrupt noises. The flapping of wings never ceased, ringing in your ears, reminding you didn't have wings yourself to fly off from this nightmare. It was only when you could open your eyes was when you saw the blurred large figure descend in front of you, all feathers and intimidating, you wished to cry out in pain for your misery, but once your eyes focused, did you noticed something familiar about it all.

A rush of feathers, brown and red, as pretty as coppers.

"So, there you are." Enzo's voice was merely a whisper among the howling winds, flapping slowly to the snowy plains in front of you, his body inches from you towering easily over your small frame. You made no noise or voiced your frustration for his words, weakly looking up at him as best as you could.

The blowing winds cast a glow behind his silhouette, watching the Aarakocra bend to kneel in front of you. "Hey," his voice surprised you, a feathered hand on your shoulder, shaking you with almost impatience. "Don't die on me, you hear?"

"Shut up," the words came weakly from you, luring you to sleep, his figure blurring again until you saw three of him, vision dotted. "Enzo..."

"Hush." He wasted no time in collecting you in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he carried you. What shocked you most was how incredibly warm he was, unaffected by the vast cold. You instinctively snuggled closer into his chest, shutting your eyes and shuddering. "Let's get you out of here."

You didn't respond, feeling how there was a surge of air moving around you both, your body growing lighter and head more lightheaded as he flapped his wings, the winds more biting against your exposed face and neck.

The harsh winds or the cold went straight to your head, pulling you in and out of consciousness, wrapped tightly in the arms that allowed you to feel a sense of safety to slip beyond the darkness, to rest your eyes for a moment.

-

There was an aching drive for warmth that slowly spread through you, taking over your body, making you want to drink it in greedily. When your eyes opened once more to a flickering flame, dancing and roaring, filling its beauty in the room. Just opposite you in the small room, knelt Enzo, tending to something he was pouring into a bowl.

"Where are we?" Your voice felt worse with wear, hoarse and not tended to. Enzo flinched, his feathers bright and shimmering against the colour of the flames, making him seem like a risen phoenix, an enigma in your eyes.

In his hands, the bowl was passed to you, his own in hand as he watched you gauge your reaction, before answering, "A cave I found, a few days out from Oakendenn."

"And the others? And Calder-"

"For the love of the Gods, can you for once think about yourself?" His words weren't snappy or aloof, more full of weary and strain. He laughed tiredly. "Honestly, little doctor, do you think before you go out so recklessly?"

Your cheeks rouged at the little nickname, ignoring it for the time being until it would nag the part of your brain for answers. "All in the name of science."

"Yes, well there won't be any science if you're frozen to death." He hesitated momentarily, before slipping a warm blanket around your shoulders, securing it carefully. "You're still a valuable asset."

To who exactly though? You questioned, silently snuggling into the blanket further. There was a strong smell of mint that was strong in your nostrils, pleasant and warm, luring you to tranquillity. It smelt a lot like him somehow, and your heartbeat raced with bashfulness.

You watched from your peripheral, the Aarakocra shuffling to sit beside you properly, his gaze never seeming to leave yours. “You’re doing an awful lot for me, Enzo.” For someone who dislikes me, and I, supposedly too.

But even that seemed like a lie. Enzo scoffed, his laugh light and airy like the frozen air. “Seems to me someone is just enjoying the company.” He shuffled closer to you, awkwardly throwing an arm around you for further comfort. “If you manage to not become a human popsicle, maybe—just maybe, will I show you around my hometown.”

Not only had his soft words thrown you off, but the feeling of his arm around you seemed not to be of great surprise. “What do you mean?” You scrambled for the right words.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of humans in my time, taking them up and down these mountains,” he said. “Not one of them had wildly gone down one of the slopes. You think that can go so smoothly with me and my reputation?”

“Your reputation, huh?” You laughed, spluttering into it when it tickled the back of your throat harshly. Enzo had placed a cup of water on your lips hastily, eyeing you with fake disdain you hoped. “You have a great reputation for the ladies or something?”

“Hmph, if that’s what humans like to think of it, then no.” He snorted, his eyes shifting. In this low, dim light, they seemed to be practically glowing. “Gods, that sounds terrible.”

There was a laugh shared between the two of you for a moment, onlooking the fire soundlessly, an unexpectedly calm atmosphere settling. You sighed, resting against his shoulder, resting your head into the bed of warm feathers, the smell of mint intense. “I’ll take that promise if you’re keeping with it.”

Enzo laughed warmly, shutting his eyes, the body growing slack as he hummed quietly to himself. “That’s good to hear.”

-

Support me on Ko-fi!~    -   Patreon

[supercorpkid]

You’re going to wish you were dead, instead.

Part 4 of T is for Trauma - The Series

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2370.

Warnings: kidnapping. Injuries. Next level angst.

Previously on the series – part 1, part 2, part 3

You open your eyes when someone kicks your stomach twice. You can’t control the vomit that comes right after, when your body finally understands that you’re up.

“Gross! Boss! The child threw up on my feet.” He walks away from you.

You want to appreciate that fact that you just did something to one of them, but everything hurts so much, like your skin is being peeled off of your body, that right now your only wish is that you could just die already so you don’t have to feel this unbearable pain anymore. Never in your worst nightmares, you’ve imagined you could feel so much pain you would wish you were dead instead.

“Stupid shit doesn’t die of over-exposure. It’s been hours! Maybe we should just shoot her, so she can bleed out to death.” One of them says and you pray they’re being serious.

“Please.” You plead. “End this.”

The boss kneels in front of you, with a creepy satisfied smile on his face. He looks behind him, to the other guys, and starts laughing like you just told the funniest joke in the world. His goons start laughing with him.

“I’m not going to end this. I wouldn’t want to stop all this fun you’re having!” He stands up, the same creepy smile still on his lips. “You know, you Kryptonians are funny. You act like Gods deciding everyone’s fate with some kind of morality no one even knows if you actually have. So, you’re ok with putting us through pain, but you can’t take any?”

“They are some weak Gods.” One of his henchmen says, and he looks back like he is telling him to shut up.

“Your world exploded for a reason. No kryptonian was supposed to survive. But then Supergirl and Superman came to Earth. Now, they are here dictating rules, expecting everyone to follow them. Who do they think they are? Those cockroaches.” He spits on the floor next to you, and you feel saliva hitting your face. “They’re not even supposed to exist, let alone procreate.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You whimper, and he gives his maniac laughter again.

“I’ll do you a solid though, just because you’re just a little kid.” He raises a hand and quickly one of his goons puts a gun in his hand. He points at your leg. “I’ll make a little hole, to accelerate your dying process, ‘kay?” And he shoots your leg.

You scream as loud as you can, with all the strength still left in you. You thought you were already in so much pain because of the kryptonite, that this wouldn’t add up and you wouldn’t feel any more. You were wrong. The pain piled up on top of each other. So right now, the inside of your body is agonizing, your leg is burning and you’re bleeding out. Is this pain going to go on forever? It sure feels like it, because no matter how much you pray for it, you’re still not dead.

No, you’re not dead. You’re just lying there in your own vomit and blood, thinking about how much you want this nightmare to end, one way or another, when you hear gunshots. You close your eyes, thinking they’ve changed their minds and decided to shoot you multiple times to end your pain, but you don’t feel anything.

“Supergirl, I’ve been expecting you.” What? You open your eyes when you hear that. You can’t see her, the boss is in front of you with his body, but you get a glimpse of red and your heart beats faster. “As you can see, I have kryptonite and your daughter. Now, would you-”

“FUCK YOU!” She flies towards him with her closed fist, throwing him to the other side of the room. You can’t see him, but you know there’s no way he can recover fast from that. Kara kneels before you, and rips the chains with her hands, tossing the kryptonite to the other side of the room, like it doesn’t even affect her anymore. And if it does, it’s not as painful as seeing your situation.

You thought that once you were free of kryptonite, the pain would go away. It didn’t. Your body still feels like it is up in flames. Kara touches your face, you whimper. You can’t barely make up her face with your one functioning eye, but you see your pain reflected on her face.

She is still kneeling next to you, when she hears a noise coming from where she threw the guy. She blows her freeze breath, holding him back a little. Kara looks around, like she’s looking for something.

“I’ll be right back, my love. Ok? Momma is here.” She disappears right after, but comes back a few seconds later, hair blowing, and even though you didn’t see a thing, you know she just used her super speed.

“Mommy. I’m dying.” You whisper and Kara holds you up, carrying you in the most protective way she can.

“Shhh. You’re ok. Mommy is here. You’re ok.” Kara looks around again and you see aunt Alex going inside the room with the biggest gun you’ve ever seen. “He’s tied up in the corner.”

“J’onn and I got this. Take her to the DEO and put her under the sun light lamp, I’ll be there in a few.” Alex goes to the other side of the room, but you still can hear her. “Oh, you thought it was funny shooting my niece? I’ll show you funny!”

You don’t hear anything else. Kara is flying with you back to National City, and you look up to her. Hair flying in the wind, tears dropping from her eyes, she can’t take her eyes off you.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe, baby.” She gives you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Mommy, I’m dying.” You repeat very slowly, because you don’t have any strength left to speak, and you know Kara can hear you either way. And you need her to know. She needs to know you’re probably not going to make it.

“No, you’re not. You’re ok. We’re going home, ok? We’re almost there. Mommy is here with you and your mom is waiting for you. You’re ok, baby.” Kara is crying so hard you barely make out what she’s saying.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I love you.”

“I love you, little one. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry.” She keeps repeating that until you close your eyes. You can finally let go, you said everything. She knows you’re sorry, she knows you love her. So, you stop fighting the inevitable.

You thought you would die. You wished you had died. But you’re still here. You hear voices and you feel hands on your body. Someone’s touching your leg, it hurts like a bitch. Someone is squeezing your hand, it’s reassuring. Someone’s kissing your forehead over and over again, it’s calming.

You keep waking up and blacking out. But you don’t think they know this, because you can’t talk, can’t open your eyes, can’t move your body. All you can do is feel pain.

“Baby, my baby. I know you can do this. You can come back to us, please, please. I love you so much, babygirl. You’re my everything.”

“Mom, why isn’t she up yet? It’s been days! You said she would be awake by now.”

“Jamie, I-I don’t… She will wake up, honey. Just give her time, she needs to rest.”

“No. No, mom. She’s supposed to be up by now! Bring her back! Do something!”

“I’ve done everything I can, Jam. Come on, honey. Let’s go. Come.”

“Alex, there must be something else we can do.”

“Kara, you know how much I want her back too, I just- I’m sorry, it’s out of my hands now.”

“I wish I could switch places with her.”

“I know, Kar. I know. Go home, you’ve been in here for days. Go see Lena. Go be with your wife.”

You keep wishing you were dead. But you don’t die, and you also don’t come back to life. You’re half alive, and that’s not enough for anyone.

“Hey, little one.” You hear softly, and your heart beats fast. For the first time you feel you have enough strength to do something. You need to let her know you’re still alive. “I brought donuts, and your homework again.”

You try to ask for food, because you’re starving, but you can’t talk.

“I’ve been doing your homework for the past two weeks, and I have to say, I don’t know how you do this. It’s so much stuff, and you still find time to work on your inventions, and go to trainings…”

Yep, your life’s not as easy as it seems.

“Oooh, want to have a laugh? Your teacher sent me your physics homework yesterday and I obviously didn’t know anything, so I asked your mom for help and guess what? Apparently, Lena doesn’t know everything. It took her ten minutes to solve a problem. It was freaking hilarious.”

It sounds hilarious. You wish you were there.

“Hey. Was that a little laugh?” Kara asks and you try to smile again so she can see it. “I’ll tell Lena you laughed at her. Wait, no. I can’t do that, she’ll have hope.” She breathes heavily and your heart shrinks. “Shoot, I’m crying on your homework again. Your teacher will start wondering.”

You want to wake up so badly. You don’t know why your body doesn’t obey you. You’ve been in this bed under the sun for two weeks apparently. Is your body ever going to respond?

“Hold me.” You beg, trying to make your voice come out. It feels like you’re stuck in those nightmares where you feel like you’re screaming, but no one around hears anything. “Please.”

“Alex said we can take you home, with the lights and all. I’m scared, because I know that here, you’re being watched by doctors, but-” You feel her hand stroking your face gently. “I want you to be comfortable, and I want to lay in bed with you all day. So, should I? Should I take you home?”

YES. Please. Do it. Please. All you want is to go home.

“Yeah. I know. We shouldn’t move you too much. We don’t know what’s going on inside you, right? Besides-” You feel Kara’s warmth next to you. “I can lay in here with you, even though Alex tells me not to. We don’t have to tell her, right?” You feel Kara’s arms around and your eyes water immediately. “Baby, are you crying? Did I- Did I hurt you?” She moves away. “ALEX! ALEX! SHE���S CRYING. DO SOMETHING.”

There’s a weird taste on your mouth. Metallic and bitter. You need to get out of this bed, you need to go back to your life. And you feel it has to be now, or it will be never.

You open your eyes, slowly. It’s hard, it’s like they were glued together. It’s all blurry and undefined. You just see bright yellow, but it’s the first time you’re seeing some color in a while so you can’t complain about it.

“Baby! Kara, Alex! She’s awake!” You hear Lena’s voice and you see black and white mixed with the yellow. It’s probably her hair and face, but you can’t know for sure. There are no shapes, just colors. “Baby, baby, it’s ok. Mom is here.” Lena kisses your face and you feel hands on your body. There’s a very strong hand holding yours, and you know it’s Kara, because she is holding so hard it hurts. And you feel Alex’s hands touching your pulsing points.

“Hey, little one. Can you say something?” Kara asks and you open your mouth.

“My bones.” You whisper so slowly it’s pretty much inaudible; you’re sure only Kara can hear you, and only because of her super hearing.

“Oh, oh, sorry.” She stops squeezing your hand and kisses it, gently. “I forgot about the loss of powers.”

Wait, what?

“Ok, you two move away, please.” Now you see red, mixed with the yellow. “Hey kiddo, this is aunt Alex. Listen I have to do a few tests with you, ok? If you can hear me perfectly, blink once.” You blink once. “Perfect. You’re doing really well. Now, if you can see me perfectly, blink once.” You don’t blink. “Oh, ok. Is it blurry?” You blink once. “Ok, don’t worry, it will go back to normal with time. Now, I want you to move your left leg, just a little. Can you do that for me?” You do it.

She then makes you move every part of your body, and slowly but surely you do all that she asks. You hear Kara and Lena’s celebrations next to you and you smile proud of yourself.

“Hey kiddo, that was perfect! Next time you wake up, you will feel a lot better. I promise you.” You feel a squeeze in your hand, and you give her a little smile. “I don’t want you to get tired, so you can go back to sleep now, and we’ll work more later ok?”

“Wait.” You whisper and she puts her ear close to your mouth so she can hear you. “Lena.”

“She wants you.”

Lena takes Alex’ spot, holding your hand and putting her ear close to your face so she can hear you better.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no baby, you don’t have anything to feel sorry for. Everything is alright. Listen.” You feel Lena wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You were right. I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re not the most important thing in the world for me, because you are. You are. Stop-stop worrying about it. Just use everything you have to recover, ok?” You nod weakly. “I love you.”

“We love you.” You hear Kara’s voice and you breathe deep.

“Mommy.” Your voice comes out a little stronger, but it is still just a whisper.

“Mommy is here, little one. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.” Kara says and you close your eyes again. Your body might still ache, but your heart doesn’t ache anymore.

[onceupona-chaos]

Belladonna Noctunis

Notes: One-shot, because spy Elain is living in mind rent free and I needed to get this out of my system 😂 As usual, forgive me for any English mistakes, it's not my first language. I just wanted to have some fun and try something new. Be kind!

Warnings: Language, violence and NSFW (mention).

After three days traveling without so much stop to sleep, the gloomy, seedy tavern looked like Flynn's particular paradise. Even with the dirty, wooden floor and the cobwebs on the corners, he'd never been happier whilst he took a long drink from his cheap beer.

Flynn had never been to Night Court territory before and although he found the rumours about the unparalleled night sky to be true, it was difficult to admire anything when you were too busy trying to not get caught. Either by guards or by the evil, bloodthirsty creatures that lived in that area.

But The Night Court was the perfect place for someone who didn't want to be found. The vast land had miles and miles of forests dangerous enough to make the bravest warriors hesitate. Even the Lord of Bloodshed would think twice before stepping into those places. Of course, the border shared with Day Court made it all easier as well.

Flynn let out a long sigh. Two more days in the back of a horse was all that separated him from his payer. The job hadn't been easy. It was the most challenging he'd done so far. But he and Akir had managed just fine.

Since Akir was the one who got the short stick, therefore the messy part of the job, it was only fair Flynn received the money. Still… whatever the prick was doing right now, it was better than being in this hellhole.

Most of the customers had already headed upstairs, the lucky ones with some company. Only a few other males remained in the tavern, sleeping miserably in their chairs, probably too drunk to even take a step, when exhaustion began to settle over Flynn, heavy like a blanket.

He was finishing his third beer, about to raise his hand to call the bartender to ask for one of the rooms upstairs, when a flash of purple and gold caught his attention.

He didn't hear her enter the room. But right there, taking a seat at the other side of the bar, was undoubtedly the most stunning female he'd ever seen.

In a lilac gown that did nothing to hide her curves, especially her backside, her golden-brown hair braided was thrown over one shoulder, exposing her pointy ears, a five petal withe flower behind the left one.

Beautiful, with pink lips that were begging to be kissed… She was every male's dream. Flynn didn't try to hide his eyes glued to her, scanning slowly that perfect face and traveling through the delicious curves of her body. She would be even more beautiful between his sheets, that was for sure.

Given that the bartender was almost drooling when he served her a glass of wine on the house, he probably was thinking the same thing.

Under the scarce faelights, she glowed so at odds with the dark tavern. It was strange, he admitted, that a stunning lady like her frequented such a place. But Flynn didn't pay so much attention to that. Not when doe-brown eyes found him already staring and a little, sweet smile curved her lips before she sipped from her glass.

It was everything he needed to approach her.

He made a point of lowering his voice before saying, "If I knew I would find the most beautiful female I've ever seen in the Night Court, I would have visited these lands sooner."

If it was possible, she was even more stunning from up close, with her soft, creamy skin and large eyes. And her scent… almost made him dizzy.

Her face remained neutral though, as if she had heard that many times before. Which probably she had. "A traveler, are you?"

He smirked, "I'm whatever you wish me to be, gorgeous."

At that, she let out a low laugh. Totally unimpressed as if he had told her the funniest joke she'd ever heard. And strangely that only made him want her more. He wanted to know what would take to make a classy lady like her give in, to make her crawl into his bed.

Every ounce of tiredness suddenly gone.

"If this is how you approach someone where you came from, I have pity on those females," she remarked.

"No one has ever complained. Maybe you just need to try something new." The words left his mouth before he even realized.

Flynn didn't know if it was the stress of the last days or the two months since he had sex. But he could already imagine every filthy thing he would do to her, every place he would fill her.

She didn't respond, only raised her eyebrows in disbelief. It was the sweetest thing that look on her face.

His voice dropped an octave, "Maybe you need an actual male to treat you the way you deserve."

A small blush stained her cheeks, but she just crooked her head and studied him. Her eyes assessing him from head to toe in a way that made him feel bare.

The female narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed her glass, standing from her seat, "What makes you think you are an actual male that can give me what I want?"

Her tone was quiet and low as if she was telling him all of her secrets. And damn him if he didn't want to know them all.

She moved toward a table in the corner, her hips swaying in a way that he couldn't help but watch.

A heartbeat later he joined her.

They talked for a while. The flirting, the innuendos slowly blending into meaningless conversation.

Usually Flinn wasn't one who would talk to get someone into his bed. He would rather pay to have what he wanted than having the job of talking nonsense. But for her… well, it wasn't everyday a pretty thing like that crossed his path. And he doubted she would appreciate it if he offered her money in exchange for a good time.

But also... maybe it was her easy smiles or her open expression, but she did have something that made him want to keep talking, keep the conversation alive.

The fact that she wasn't boring also helped to ease his impatience.

So there he was, talking about a particularly charming incident that happened to him at Solstice when he was younger. It had ended with him lost in the middle of a deserted beach named Prateada, completely naked.

He hoped she would get intrigued as to why he was naked in the first place, the perfect cue to smoothly shift the conversation to a more heated direction.

But the female tilted her head back and laughed. Strangely, he took satisfaction from it. Everything about her was sexy and lovely in the same, perfect measure. Gods, she was killing him. He wished things could go a little faster.

"So you're from Summer, then." She mused, propping her chin over her first.

He shaked his head, "My friend is from Summer, gorgeous. Actually he lives close to that beach, but he didn't come to rescue me, the little shit." Her laugh was a song to his ears and hopefully a promise of what it would come next. "But I'm from Day."

She asked, "Oh? And where is this friend of yours?"

Flynn didn't miss the suggestive edge hidden in her tone."Why? Interesting?"

She bit her bottom lip, and a delicious, deep pink colored her cheeks as she whispered, "You know what they say... three is a party."

Gods above.

His blood heated and his cock ached in his pants.

She was really just sitting there, pouring sweet nothings into the conversation, batting her eyelashes and making his head spin.

The delicate flared of her nostrils told him she smelled it, too. His arousal.

Flynn locked his gaze with hers and drained his drink to the edges, her eyes tracked every bob of his throat.

"Unfortunately for you, my friend had an urgent matter and had to head home. But two can make a party just fine."

She merely hummed and took a sip of her wine. "Sure about that? You do look tired."

"My journey has been tough." He added after a heartbeat, his words full of promise, "It takes more than that to make me tired, don't worry."

She nodded to herself before grabbing their glasses. He made to help her, but one look from her froze him in place. "Sit. I'll take care of you, tonight." And with that, she was gone.

Cauldron boil him alive.

His pants were getting tighter by the second. Flynn took a deep breath, shaking slightly in anticipation.

A beer was placed before him a few moments later and this time she didn't bother to sit across the table, pulling a chair to sit by his side. Her sweet scent hit him hard and he tried not to look too much at her cleavage as he drank his beer, but failed spectacularly.

"I heard the people in Day are very… concerned." She started, her delicate scent enveloping him. "After what happened in the High Lord's palace."

His eyes shot to hers, meeting those doe eyes of hers. Flynn kept his face careful blank, even though a wave of smugness went through his body. It wasn't everyday a plan was executed with such perfection - and right under the High Lord's nose. He knew he shouldn't be talking about it. But changing the subject would only make things more suspicious so he had to play along. "They have reason to be. No one saw who did it."

Flynn took another long sip from his beer, eyes still fixed on her. He didn't know if that scent of hers were messing with his senses, but we could swear even his drink was sweeter, his head lighter.

She inclined her body a little, getting closer to him as if she was about to reveal even The Mother's secrets. Her eyes flickered in a way that should be forbidden.

He felt chills going down his spine.

"It is disturbing, though." She went on, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, careful to not mess with the flower. "They say the palace wing where one of his lovers was killed is the most guarded one."

He chuckled, too lightheaded. "Perhaps the west wing guards were off duty that day."

Her grin turned wilder as she nodded. "Well… maybe they should be fired, don't you think?"

With that gods' damn scent of hers filling his nose, he couldn't take it anymore. He was too drunk in desire, the corner of his visions turning black. He couldn't even breathe right anymore.

He murmured, "Here I was, thinking you were a good girl."

His heart was beating fast when he dropped his head, aiming at last for those plumb, pink lips.

He wouldn't even make it to the room. No, he would exposed that beautiful backside right there, bent her over the table and fuck her hard, just the way he liked it.

Flynn was already sweating, his mouth was inches from hers - when he felt the air get caught in his throat.

Frowning, he pulled back and gasped slightly at first, swallowing hard as he tried to pull air into his lungs. But it was like his throat had become too tight all of the sudden.

Still trying to ease that feeling, he undid the first bottoms of his tunic.

But it was like there wasn't enough air in the world anymore.

The female didn't show a hint of concern as she stood just to sit on the table before him. Wine in hand, she just observed.

Sweat was pooling in his forehead, his own hands and feet going numb.

"You proved yourself to be a better company than I've imagined, Flynn," she said.

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

He knew he hadn't given her his name. His guard was down, but he wasn't so careless, so stupid. Or so he thought. A small, secret smile bloomed on her face. "Although I do think it's interesting that you know in which palace wing his lover was killed when this is private information of the High Lord."

His eyes went wild. Shit.

"You-", he gasped, looking between her and his drink as his numbed hands covered his throat. His vision darkened further, but he still looked at her, at that adorable, fucking flower behind her ear. And utter panic almost made his blood stop cold in his veins.

Only four petals remained.

"Belladonna Noctunis, in case you're wondering. I grow it myself." Her face was harder, any trace of amusement gone. "It wasn't enough to kill you."

The world got darker around them and Flynn noticed it wasn't only because of that damn flower she'd put in his drink. He tried to look around, but he couldn't see past that darkness, that veil of swirling shadows. Where the hell were the bartender or the drunks, he had no idea.

He was still gasping for air, his throat almost completely closed, when a male stepped from a shadow behind her as if he was hidden somewhere in between them. Enormous wings peeking over his shoulders. Ilyrian.

A shiver shook his body as shadows curled around the male, his eyes blazing between them. His voice was deep, but soft as he asked, "Are you ready to go, El?"

That wasn't a common power, Flynn knew that much. He had heard stories about it for centuries, but it was like his brain was as numb as his entire arm now. He couldn't quite place who those people were, not when he was in desperate need of air, his legs getting too heavy to even lift a foot.

A smile bloomed in her face at the sound of the male's midnight voice. "Yes."

Flynn's eyelashes were becoming heavy, sweat running down his face as he still tried to make sense.

The male walked toward them. "Do I need to make him speak more?"

She shook her head. "No, I already have our confirmation. And you owe me fifty golden marks, by the way. I know where the other one is, too."

Shit. Flynn tried to stand at Akir's mention, but his own body wouldn't obey him.

The male gave her a smile as well. "Of course you do," he murmured, chuckling. "You are the sweetest little minx."

She turned to the male, something sparkling in her eyes before asking, "Will you take care of him?"

The male stared at Flynn, his hazel eyes cold. No softness in his voice, no amusement curving his lips. No trace of any emotion now. "He will be our personal present to Helion. They both will."

Fuck. Fuck.

"Generous of you, my love." She was still smiling at the male when she took his scarred hand in hers.

But the way he'd say the High Lord's name, with such casualness as if he knew him… even with his mind and body almost giving up, Flynn saw through his panic, the pieces of a puzzle clicking slowly into place.

That remarkable, perfect face of her… and those shadows… They actually knew the High Lord of The Day Court, because they were members of the… what was the name, again? Inner Circle.

He had heard the tales that travelled through Prythian of how the powers of fate united three brothers and three sisters, including the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. And the Generals.

Which means… if the male was the Shadowsinger, if they were the High Lord and Lady of The Night Court personals spies...

The last thing Flynn saw was the face of the Kingslayer herself looking down at him - and then the Shadowsinger touched his arm and the world vanished into shadow.

[tastyykpop]

Will you do a dating headcanons for WayV? I love the 127 one!

Yayy I'm so happy you loved that one😌 its honestly one of my favs that I've written on this blog :)

ᴡᴀʏᴠ ʙғ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ

Kun

Possibly the only normal boyfriend in wayv

He actually treats you like the members because he's just so used to it

But he's nicer and more lenient

Though if you start acting up he just stares at you until youre like 'lmao jk~"

Everyone sees how whipped he is and are always making fun of him as he tries to ignore it

"Kuns a whore for y/n!!!"

"Shut the fUCK UP LUCAS!!"

Kuns always babying you too >:(

Just loves to spoil his baby for no reason

Would actually get the most expensive clothing for you just because you stared at it longer than 5 seconds

Aways says he can get you anything since he has the money and you're like "baby, no save up😀✋"

And hes like "baby, yes heres some clothes😀✋"

Kuns the type to actually bring you onto his insta lives whenever he's bored

So hes like "y/ns here again!"

But the thing is people watch his lives for you😐

Jk jk

Nah most fans are super supportive though

Hes only once called someone out for being rude and until then, no ones messed with you

Kuns lowkey scary

He can be very assertive when he needs to with you but its nothing too serious

You find it hot dont lie

Ten

Hes like a mix of haechan and jaehyun (if yall have read the 127 one)

Hes very touchy but won't hesitate to bully you

In a nice way shh

He wouldn't actually be mean :)

Buttt like if you did something embarrassing, hes gonna bring it up everyday up until you die

"This bitch knocked over a vending machine rip" hed say at you're funeral when yall are like 94

No but he's kind

And so cute around you

Calls you baby all the time

Thats like his thing

Imagine how he calls yangyang baby yangyang, now its baby y/n

Some members find his cuteness disgusting but you're like 😍🥰😘

Teaches you some dances no matter if you're good or bad

He'll also praise you for trying and doing a good job

Also sneaks in some touches because, like I said hes touchy

And clingy cuz why not

Hes always on top of you, kissing you, or just playing with your hair for the fun of it

If a member says something to him about it, he goes "ok and ? you jealous i don't kiss you like I kiss y/n?"

Just give him lots of attention cuz he's like a cat

Catboy ten is vibing

Winwin

Since he doesn't like pda too much, hes not going to do it a lot

He doesn't care if you initiate it though, in fact, he thinks its very cute

Sicheng knows its because you're a bit needy for his touch since he doesn't do it so he won't mind

Once in a blue moon he'll just walk over to you and kiss you suddenly

Then he steps away, blushing cuz he doesn't know what came over him

"Why did you get a kiss from him?? What the fuck!?"

"Because I'm his girlfriend, yuta🧍‍♂️"

"But did you marry him like I did? Didn't think so."

The amount of times his members actually glared at you because yall kissed is immaculate

But its funny cuz you made them jelly

Sichengs easily embarrassed by little acts of kindness or if you give him a small compliment

He laughs it off and puts his head down as he blushes but its cute asf

Bruh pinch his cheeks, like sometimes he's like 'oh fuck off' but most of the time he's like scrunching his face so adorably.

His patience is also pretty low so listen to him

Hes not afraid of showing hes angry or annoyed with you

His face just goes stone cold and you know your fucked up

Like wtf happened to the cutie that let you punch his cheeks

Other than that though hes a big baby boy

Lucas

Oh this goofy ass would be fun to date

Its just a bunch of laughing and giggling

You cannot even sleep in the same bed without wanting to either punch him or laugh

And though yall do laugh a lot, you're actually very madly in love with each other

Lucas is very nice and will not stand for anyone messing with his girlfriend

Hes possessive but not in a toxic way

Its more of him wanting to keep you safe

He'll also makes sure you both are happy all the time and if you guys need a break then you'll take a break for a bit

Moving on to some fun stuff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You and him have like daily rap battles

It goes back and forth in different languages and its funny hearing it

Members laugh every time Lucas goes "y/n...rap time!!!"

Another thing is Lucas can't keep his hands off you in anyway

Your hips? Free real estate

Your ass? His hands go there

The back of your neck? Seems like a nice place to grab every so often

Like he has so many places that he holds you by and its completely normal

Hes always saying stuff like "God, im so handsome." Then says "and you're so hot, no wonder why we are dating."

And you kinda just sit there like "yeah sure go off king🧎‍♀️"

There's no way he can go a day without complimenting you once

Its either your face, legs, ass, boobs, arms, hands, hair, this bitch could go off

And of course he expects it back, dont make him sad

"I complimented you twenty times today and I didn't get a compliment back what the fuck y/n😐"

".....you're hair looked really good today, I love the color."

"Oh my God really😳!? Thanks babe🥰, at first I wasn't sure i was gonna li-"

Just compliment him, it'll be ok

Xiaojun

The nicest person ever istg

Hes not normal in any way though but he's just really sweet

Will definitely make fun of you but not as bad as ten

Is such a bitch sometimes in a funny way

Just feels like complaining for no reason and you're like "i'm tryna watch a movie luv...."

Nah but he's amazing

Gets you a bunch of gifts whenever he feels like it

Sings for you if you ask

Jokingly says no sometimes just to see you pout but he'll do it regardless

Get him a gift and hes gonna refuse with the cutest smile while your just forcing it into his hands

Anything you give him is the most precious thing to him even if its stupid

Hes so in love omg

Bruh you guys in public is just adorable because this kid is shy but wants to hold your hand so bad

So hes like hesitating and so are you

Then bitch ass hendery comes in and grabs both of your hands and places it in each other's before he walks away with a smile

So now you're both walking with flushed cheeks but at least yall are holding hands

You can thank hendery for that

Hendery

My guy is a mix of loving, funny, and stupid

Hes so fun to be around though like there's never a dry conversation with him

Unless the room in awkwardly quiet or something

But then again you'd probably start laughing because he's so uncomfortable in silence

Is always lowkey judging you if you do something cute

Even though he asked you to do it

So you just glare at him after

Ask him to act cute and he'll do it without hesitation but its so funny

His eyes scream help but the rest of his face is normal

Omg yall compliment and roast each other on a daily

Its nothing too bad like how otherd would be but its something

You and hendery go shopping almost all the time even though yall don't get anything

You just kinda stare at the things saying "thats cute" then walk away, never batting an eyelash at it again

Some members would even say that henderys the same as he is with them, with you

Just more lovey

And more kisses

Ooo and hes also gentle

Especially if your just going for a kiss, hes always softly holding your hips or cheeks

Holding hands is an absolute must in public too or he fake crys

Actually let him cry cuz its hilarious to the rest of wayv and you

Jk no hold his hand cuz they're warm <3

Hes gonna swing his and your arm back and forth too while skipping because ✨priorities✨

You better skip along

Yangyang

Haechan but make him chinese

No seriously, go back to what I wrote in 127's headcannon and thats basically what's gonna be here

Except yangyangs less bratty

Don't get me wrong hes still a brat but not haechan level of brat

He'll dead ass let you sleep with him just to push you off and laugh at you after

Would go for a kiss then blow in your face

You guys are more of bffs though but not because you kiss and do other shit together

Pranks!!

Omg

Always pranking the members with him

Its the funniest thing if its on kun and no one knows why

Sometimes ten joins and its ten times better

Wait did I accidentally just make a ten joke-

Anyways

Yangyang loves holding you

But at the same time doesn't because too much pda

Don't worry doe you can always just catch him off guard and sneak some kisses to make him blush😗✌

Then let him tackle you afterwards because you did it in front of everyone

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Hours Ago // Ashton Irwin

Here we are at the final installment! This section was honestly the driving force behind me deciding to write this whole thing - the night of the album release I was so inspired I told a handful of people about both this section and the fic as a whole, without knowing if I would ever follow through on it. I ended up writing it just to see if I could, unsure if I would even end up posting it. I’m glad I did and I hope you are too!

Thank you to everyone who has read and/or given feedback on the first two chapters - it really does mean a lot. Thank you to @ashtonangst for the real time reaction messages that are as equally entertaining as they are helpful. And like basically all of my work, this entire 10k+ monster of self-indulgence wouldn’t have been possible without the guidance, cheerleading and wisdom of @cal-puddies

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash in fluffy, contemplative (and obviously smutty) situations. Weed smoking, oral sex performed on both a male and a female (perhaps simultaneously oop), unprotected sex within an established relationship

Word Count: 3534

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You knew Ashton had been wanting to do something to commemorate the album release but you were still shocked to wake up to the sound of him hauling your suitcase out of the closet.

“Oh good, you’re up!” He giggles. “Think you can be ready to take off for a few days by the time I’m done with my interviews?”

You stare blankly at him for a moment or two and he offers another round of giggles before quickly explaining the arrangements he’d made for a desert retreat to thank everyone who helped him put his album together; he’s talking a mile a minute, describing the Airbnb he’d booked, the safety precautions he’d asked everyone to take, the plans he had for activities once everyone got there.

It’d be a lot to take in even if you hadn’t just woken up but you love when he’s excited like this, so animated and bright, you can practically feel the joy radiating from him. You promise to be ready after lunch and with a quick kiss, he’s rushing downstairs for a Zoom appointment.

The drive to Joshua Tree flies by, the two of you singing, chatting and generally thrilled to get out of town for the first time since lockdown started. Once you arrive at the rental, he practically yanks you out of the car to enthusiastically show you around the expansive property.

After briefly teasing him that of course he chose a getaway destination that offers a ‘hammock circle’ as an amenity, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. “It’s perfect, babe. I’m glad you’re gonna get a chance to unwind after all this, you deserve it.” You tilt up and he pecks your lips. “When do the others get here?” You ask, starting to pull him back towards the house.

Ash grins and pulls on your arm, bringing you back into him. “Friday.” For the second time today, you look at him in utter bafflement. He kisses your knuckles and earnestly explains, “I know I haven’t been very present for you and this whole thing couldn’t have been easy for you to deal with so I thought we could use a couple days together to kind of reset and reconnect.”

“Ash,” you pout, unsure of what to say. You’re overwhelmingly touched and all you can think to do is to throw your arms around his neck and hold him tight. He chuckles and wraps around you as well, the two of you swaying together for a moment.

The next couple hours are spent exploring the grounds, arranging for grocery delivery and unpacking your bags. After a quiet dinner, you follow him out to the patio to relax and enjoy the idyllic desert landscape. He pulls his long hair back into a bun as he settles in on a couch.

You get comfortable, sitting cross-legged next to him, while he unzips his backpack at the foot of the couch and retrieves a glass stash jar, a small grinder and a pack of rolling papers; he turns to you, raising his eyebrows and you nod enthusiastically.

He grabs the acoustic guitar sitting by the couch, flipping it over to lay in his lap as a makeshift table. You realize for a relaxing retreat, he hasn’t really sat still since you arrived and you decide to check in.

“So,” you start, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “Couple days from now, people everywhere are gonna get to enjoy all your hard work. Hear everything you poured yourself into. How are you feeling?”

Ashton is focused on grinding the weed and his reply is brief and distracted. "I feel good, I feel ready. Probably the best I’ve felt about a release."

You’re unsatisfied with his easy answer so you press further. “Why’s that? Because there’s less pressure without the label? Or because it all belongs to just you?” You twirl your finger in the curls at the base of his neck, the ones he missed scooping into his bun.

He pauses, contemplating this time. “I mean, all of that feels great but I think I’m really just pleased with it because it was made with pure artistic intent… like, I’m not gonna gain anything from this. I didn’t have to make it but I needed to, you know?” He looks over at you expectantly to see if his point was made.

You nod and smile softly at him. Happy to be understood, he turns back to his task. You watch intently as he sprinkles the weed onto the paper, brow furrowing as he meticulously loads it with just the right amount. You always love watching him work and this was no different.

"I get what you're saying, babe… and I’m happy you’re feeling good about it,” you beam. “I’m so proud of you, Ash.”

He looks over and shoots you a toothy grin. You intended to continue, to keep him talking but you've become distracted by the way his long fingers look as he rolls the newly forming joint back and forth between them. When his tongue darts out to drag across the paper to seal it, you find yourself biting your lip, fascinated.

His voice interrupts your enraptured silence. “We can talk about something else if you want, you’ve been hearing about this non-stop for months now," he laughs, feeling around his pockets for a lighter.

“I like hearing your thoughts on things you’re passionate about,” you shrug, handing him the lighter off the coffee table. "Plus, it’s the reason why we’re here.”

Ash shakes his head as he turns the stick over the lighter's flame. “No, the album is the reason why everyone else is going to be here,” he insists. “The reason we’re here is different.” He lifts the lit joint to his mouth and takes a long drag.

“Right. Reconnecting. Resetting,” you parrot his earlier words breezily, watching the smoke pour from his mouth.

He scowls at your tone of voice. “I’m serious,” he says firmly, passing it to you. “This year has obviously been a lot but you really got the short end of the stick, having to deal with me.”

You look at him, puzzled. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” you comment, taking a couple hits. “Parts of the year have been good, parts have been shit but the silver lining to it all is that I’ve gotten to spend so much of it with you.”

He reaches over and rubs your thigh. “I invited you to live with me for the lockdown and then barricaded myself in a studio all day everyday. Going to bed by yourself every night, waking up alone, seeing me at meals only if Matt forced me to take a break that day. And you also had to put up with me during the CALM disaster and the tour getting cancelled… it’s been me, me, me. All the time,” he points out.

“Oh, you don’t think I’m used to that by now?” You joke, giggling at his mock-offended gasp. He lightly smacks your thigh in protest and snatches the joint back. “Seriously, babe. I didn’t put up with those things, I went through them with you. It’s hard for me to see you frustrated or upset about situations that can’t be changed. When you’re disappointed, I’m disappointed. So to see you be so excited about something? Your joy brings me joy. I wouldn’t trade that for all the late night cuddles in the world.”

“Baby,” he breathes quietly, pulling you in to rest at his side. You’re both quiet for a few moments, thinking about each other’s words, feeling each other’s presence. “I hope you know how sincerely I mean it when I say I would not have been able to do this without you. This album belongs to you too.”

“Oh yeah?” You look up at him with a twinkle in your eye. “So what’s my percentage, how much of a cut am I getting, Mr. Label Man?” You laugh at your joke, pulling from the joint he’s just handed back to you.

Ashton laughs heartily and scoffs, “Why do you think I started growing my own vegetables? We’re fuckin’ broke now, sweetheart.” He giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

“Well, you’re broke and out of work, I am currently still employed,” you playfully boast, gesturing with the cigarette for emphasis.

“Ohhh, that’s how it’s gonna be now?” He jabs over and over at your side and you dramatically yelp. “Do I gotta start calling you ‘Daddy’ now?”

You offer him a devilish smile and carefully get on your knees to straddle him. “Do you prefer the term ‘sugar baby’ or ‘kept man’?” You tease, placing the joint in his mouth before he can reply.

He runs his hands over your ass while he puffs away; holding the hit in his mouth, he moves a hand up to guide your face towards his. He presses his lips against yours and you open your mouth, allowing the smoke to transfer from his mouth to yours. You grind in his lap a little and he groans as he watches you tilt your head back and slowly let the smoke trickle out of your mouth.

After a few more shotguns back and forth, Ash quickly sets what’s left in the ashtray on the coffee table and buries his hands in your hair, crashing his lips into yours. You moan as he kisses you with an almost unreal intensity; his tongue feels like it’s melting into yours, his lips have never tasted softer or sweeter. His hands have slipped under the back of your shirt and his fingers are either icy cold or burning hot - you’re undecided but it feels incredible - as they trace tantalizing designs on your skin.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out - it could’ve been 10 minutes, it could’ve been 40 - when he states in a gravelly voice, “We need to get you inside and naked for me.”

You reply with a pleased sigh and attach your lips to his jaw, just below his ear; your face bumping against the coolness of his earring both distracts and delights you. You don’t realize you’ve been rocking relentlessly against his growing hardness until he firmly grabs your hips and rasps your name as a stern warning.

He lifts you off his lap and stands up from the couch. You don’t know whether to laugh or moan at the spectacle: eyes glassy from both arousal and blazing, lips swollen from slotting with yours, skin littered with your bitemarks. His hair is pulled halfway out of the bun, his shirt is unbuttoned all the way and the silk pants he’s wearing aren’t even trying to hide the tent that’s formed in them.

He pulls you up from the couch and right back onto his lips; you stand there on the patio for several more minutes, slightly swaying as you devour each other. You can’t remember the last time you felt this hungry for him; smoking together usually gets you both hot but this is next level.

By the time you finally pull away and breathlessly declare, “God, I swear I could fuckin’ cum like this right here,” he's got you down to your bra and panties and you’ve got one hand in his hair and one down his pants.

He nips at your neck a bit longer before separating from you and turning you towards the house. “Bed,” he commands, starting to gather up his things. You continue to linger and he swats at your ass to get you moving.

You set the mood when you get to the bedroom: opening the windows to bring in the cool night air, dimming the lamps, lighting some candles. You know he brought incense but you’re not sure where he unpacked it. Ashton slinks up behind you while you’re digging through a drawer and wraps himself around you.

“Why. Aren’t. You. Naked. Yet.” He complains, leaving wet kisses across your neck. You shiver as his fingers trail down your back before unhooking your bra and pushing it down your arms. You giggle as he tugs your panties down your legs right where you stand.

You step out of the underwear and let the bra fall from your arms, turning to him completely bare. “Your turn,” you lilt, lightly backing him up towards the bed, incense quest long forgotten. You laugh at how quickly he whips off his shirt before he lets himself fall onto his back on the mattress. You crawl next to him and as soon as you’re near enough, his hands are instantly playing with your tits; you take his pants down, licking your lips as his hard cock springs up against his stomach with a satisfying smack.

You stroke it where it lays, using just your thumb and index finger, finding yourself hypnotized as you watch your hand move, hear his breath get heavier, watch the first drops of precum appear at the head. His hand has made its way between your spread knees and he lazily drags his fingers through your folds, occasionally tapping against your clit; he’s barely using any pressure but in this moment, it feels incredible and you rock against him.

After a few minutes of mindlessly playing with each other, he reaches for your arm and gently pulls, wanting you to come closer to him; you lean in and even with his eyes half-closed, you note the fondness swimming in them. He cups your face with his hands and murmurs, “Love you,” just before he presses your lips to his. The noise of your sloppy kisses sounds almost musical to your stoned mind.

Ash moves his hand back to your center as you lean to peck down his chest, relishing the feeling of his skin shivering underneath you as you move down his torso. Again, you leave his cock on his stomach, giving the shaft a few sloppy kisses before taking his balls in your mouth.

“Baby… here,” he breathily directs you, gesturing for you to lay on your side while he turns onto his. He lifts your outer leg and rests his head on your other one; he sets your leg back down on the bed, bent at the knee, effectively creating a triangle of space allowing him access to your pussy. He moves closer and licks a stripe through your wetness to test, the resulting moan from you letting him know he’s spot on with his positioning.

You scoot closer to his crotch, reaching for his cock that’s now facing you, giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your mouth. You’re now deep in your weed and lust fueled haze so it takes you a few moments to wrap your head around giving a blowjob at this angle. The work he’s doing between your legs isn’t doing your concentration any favors so you buy yourself some time and stick your tongue out, tapping his cock on it before kitten licking over the head; you suckle at the tip while your fingers tease his shaft and you moan when you taste precum.

Ashton’s tongue darts in and out of your folds and he thinks to himself he should tell you that you’ve never tasted better but decides not to because he doesn’t want you off his mouth for even a second. He teases the tip of his tongue at your entrance and the way you jerk against him leaves him groaning; the vibration against you feels like tiny electric sparks shooting through your pussy.

You grip his ass, using it for leverage as you start to bob your head up and down on his cock; you move cautiously at first, still trying to navigate the position, but as you continue taking him, you realize how much you’re enjoying the slow pace. You swirl your tongue around him as you move, your heightened state making you appreciate every detail: the weight of him, the details of the veins and ridges on his skin.

You pull off with a pop and rub the tip over your lips before doing the same down his shaft; when you come back up, your tongue’s attention focuses on fluttering around the underside of the head. You feel Ash pull away from you and hear a “Just like that, baby,” muffled against your thigh as you take him down again.

He collects himself and dives back in, promptly sucking your clit between his lips. You whimper around his cock a few times before you have to let him slip out. Your brain tells you that you should let him know you’re getting close but your senses are so overwhelmed, you can’t find the words.

Ash knows your body and even his foggy mind can read the signs that you’re nearly there. He wraps his arm around your hip, trying to steady your unruly movements as he slows his work on your clit, edging you slightly.

You whine his name and even your own ears are surprised by how needy it sounds. You try to resume sucking him but your pleasure center feels like it’s in overdrive and you can’t make yourself focus. You rock your hips against his mouth, breathlessly conceding, “Gotta cum, babe… oh god, Ash, please."

His fingers dig into your thigh as he holds on while you writhe against him; his tongue ramps up on your clit, skillfully fluttering back and forth with voracity. Your legs shake around his head and your breath comes out in labored gasps as you climax; your pre-existing high melts into your orgasmic high and you lose yourself in it, unable to believe how many waves of sensation you’re feeling.

He licks at you until your tremors stop and then he’s carefully untangling himself and turning around so he can lay facing you. Your eyes flutter open when you feel him stroking your hair and you giggle at how adorably sinful he looks: curls askew, goofy yet lusty smile curling at his lips, face damp and shiny from your release.

You give him a soft kiss and then in what feels like one swift motion, you push him onto his back, lay yourself on top of him and slip him inside you. You unhurriedly move yourself on him, chest pressed against his, alternately pecking at or mumbling sweet nothings into his skin.

Ashton pulls you into a deep kiss and hugs you tightly to him, arms wrapping around you. He runs his hands over any skin he can reach, taking advantage of your closeness to create a tactile heaven for himself. He wonders if your pussy has ever felt so tight or warm around him; as if you can read his mind, you clench and he groans loud and long, hands moving to your ass.

His large hands grip your cheeks and you rhythmically rock against him as he lazily fucks up into you. The two of you murmur and moan at each other, neither of you particularly trying to express anything other than the total pleasure you’re feeling. Finally, his noises take on a different, more urgent tone, his hips begin to stutter and he whines your name as he cums inside you.

You lay in silence for what feels like hours but in reality can’t be more than a minute. He kisses the top of your head and carefully moves you to the side of him; he reaches over to the bedside table for some tissues and you watch reverently as he cleans the both of you up.

“I fucking love you,” you dreamily state, unprompted.

He giggles blissfully at your outburst as he settles back on the bed, opting to lay perpendicular, resting his head on your stomach. “Well, I fucking love you,” he beams, closing his eyes as you finger brush his hair. “You know, this is exactly what I pictured when I planned this whole thing.”

“The trip or the album?” You joke, stifling a laugh. “You know you didn’t have to make a whole ass album if you wanted to take me to the desert for a nice stone and bone, you could’ve just asked.”

Ash snorts and sits up to blow a raspberry on your bare skin. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeahhhh, I guess,” you tease. There’s a long silence before you muse, “I feel incredibly lucky to be with you during all this.”

“The trip or the album?” He laughs hard at his quip, crawling up your body once he sees the amused pout on your face. “Aww, baby, I’m the lucky one. Thank you for being here with me. For everything this year, not just the stuff worth celebrating.”

You offer a satisfied hum as he kisses you sweetly. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow to ask, “Have I made up for all those nights you were sleepin’ on the couch yet?”

"God… my back hurts just thinking about it,” you exaggeratedly grumble. He pokes at you and you snuggle into him. "Maybe you should light up the rest of that joint and persuade me a little more."

Ashton looks at you, eyes gleaming with admiration and amusement. "Deal."

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower​ @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal  

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @youngbloodchild  @irwinsbetch @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands​  @realisticnotes​  @makeamovehemmings​ @golden166​ @burstintocolor​ 

@mfartzzz​ @babyoria​ @petunias-pet​ @youngblood199456​ @notinthesameguey​ @seanna313​  @zhangyixingxing1​ @stardust-galaxies​  @zackoid​

@lovelybonesetc​ @xsongxbirdx​ @justhereforcalum​

@laura66sos​ @calumrose​ @karajaynetoday​  @pilunb​ @jazzyangel242​ @babylon-corgis​  @heyheyhaleyd​ @calmsweetcreature​ 

@spicycal​ @talkfastromance4​  @holystxne​ 

@meetmedowntown​ @myloverboyash​

@irwindoll​ @cheekysos​ @carrielfisher​ @lukedorkyhemmings​ @creampiecashton​ @lovelywordsblog​

@trix-arent-for-kids​ @uh-huhh-honey​ @tobefalling​ @aladyofalbion​ @likehuhdude​

@curlycalums​  @cxddlyash​  @reddesert-healourblues​

@fedorable-killjoys​  @iamcalumswhore​   @i-like-5sos​   @Too-et-moi215

@photochic18  @kouska901 @Indermeow

[tma-thoughts]

I wrote s5 Jon going back in time to s1 and smiting Elias, told from the perspective of s1 Jon. Also I couldn't be bothered to write the beginning or a sound ending so take this I guess

"Do you think you can beat me, Archivist?" Elias asks, a smile tugging at his thin lips. He steps forward, his eyes glowing bright green in the dim light of the Archives. "I know everything you don't."

At this, the Archivist huffs out a laugh, chuckling until it sounds more like a strained cry. "Is that supposed to scare me, Jonah?" He asks smugly. An eye opens on his forehead, then another on his cheek, then a cluster on the back of his neck, and others, surely, beneath his clothes. They all glow a bright, piercing green. Jon takes a cautious step back.

"I see you've learned some fancy tricks," Elias says, "Is that all?"

"Hardly."

"What do you think you can really do to me?"

Elias' words are heavy on Jon's ears. His voice resonates in the room, bouncing through his mind. The Archivist seems unfazed, though, and starts laughing again. It takes him a good couple of seconds to gather himself, like Elias had just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"Did you just try to compel me, Jonah?" He asks, his chuckle still laced throughout his words. "You should know better than that. You don't have power over power itself."

There's a shocked look on Elias's face, but his eyebrows furrow as it's clear he tries to hide it. He takes a protective step back.

"Do you think you can actually scare me?" The Archivist asks, "I've seen horrors unknown to even the Eye itself. You simply serve fear, allow it a vessel through which to feed. I am fear. I am the monster under your bed, I am the thing that goes bump in the night, I am the thing that watches you as you sleep. I plunge fear into the very hearts of innocent people while you are simply a leech, watching--always watching."

He steps closer to Elias, and Jon can see Elias' face begin to sweat. He'd only ever seen the man as cool and professional--if not incredibly boring. To think that Jon from approximately five years down the line could do something like this is almost too much.

"You strike fear by telling people what they refuse to believe. You make them See their mistakes, their pasts, their hidden truths. All you do is suck Knowledge like a vampiric leech and throw it back at your unsuspecting victims. But it wont work on me. I know the fear I cause. I know it more than anyone else, and it is the thing I understand most of all. You cannot surprise me with something I already know.

"You think you know the fear you cause, but all you can comprehend is the tip of the iceberg. I can make you understand. I can instill so much terror into your heart that your physical form cannot take it. I did it to the thing that stole Sasha, I did it to the goddamn Distortion, and I can do it to you.

"The Ceaseless Watcher is on my side. You feed it and feed it and yet it has never liked you. Not when you were Jonah, not now that you wear the face of Elias Bouchard. The Watcher obeys my every command, it Knows I am on it's level. Every fear knows I am on it's level, and they cower before my wrath.

"So do you want to go the easy way, or the hard way?"

Elias looks actually scared now, but if he's anything it's incredibly stubborn. "And what do those options consist of?" He asks.

"Oh come on, Jonah, do I need to spell everything out for you?" The Archivist replies, rolling his eyes (all of them). "Either I smite you off the face of the Earth or I grab the knife in the bottom drawer and stab you until you've properly bled out. Both, I can assure you, are extremely painful. Or, well, I can't really speak for the smiting as I've personally never been killed that way before, but I can infer from the screaming."

"What!" Jon exclaims, unable to keep his confusion inaudible. The Archivist doesn't answer him, though, and keeps himself focused on Elias.

"If I stab you with Gertrude's old knife in the desk drawer, it's almost like she's getting her revenge, but if I smite you, you'll be killed by the one thing you ever pledged loyalty to. Oh, the choices, the choices. What do you think, Jon?"

Jon jumps in surprise. "Uh, well, I-uh, I suppose that, um... the knife might be a bit bloody?"

"Ah, you're right," the Archivist says, "It'd be a pain to get blood out of the carpet."

He turns to Elias, who's sweating bullets. "Are you ready, Jonah?" The Archivist says with a sick smile.

"Now, c'mon Jon, this is crazy," Elias says, "You wouldn't actually kill me, would you? Of course not! Spare me, spare me, please!"

The Archivist doesn't listen to him, and instead all his eyes glow brightly as he lifts slightly off the ground.  "Feel the horror you cause, the feelings you plunge into the hearts of others. Feel it. Suffer it," he says, spitting venom from his words, "Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this putrid excuse for a servant and drink your fill."

The room seems to warp and bounce around Jon, and he feels like he's going through a bad high. Elias is screaming, but his voice is distorted in his ears. He might be screaming, he doesn't know. There's a loud ringing following everything, until finally, the world seems to come to a halt.

"Holy shit," Jon whispers, seeing the scorch mark burnt into the carpet where Elias once stood. He feels the Archivist's eyes on him, and whips his head around to look at him. The extra eyes are closing and fading into faint scars and stretch marks.

"I'm not smiting you, Jon, I'm not an idiot," the Archivist says, "If I kill you, I cease to exist. And I'd really rather find my Martin before that happens."

With that, he walks out of the Archives.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: I’d love literally anything Flarrie, but I’d really like to see some Nick/Carrie friendship as well (I feel like however she’d come out, he’d be surprised but support her 1000000% and I never see fics featuring their friendship)

Anon, I’m not even joking, you might be my favourite person literally ever. Flarrie with a side of Carrie and Nick being best friends? Sign me the fuck up. I’ve had a serious case of writer’s block, so I can’t promise this is the best thing I’ve ever written, but I still love it. Also this is the first time I’ve ever written Nick, so it might be out of character, but I think I did pretty well. Thank you so much for suggesting this!

Title is from the Masterplan by Oasis because that song fits this fic beautifully.

Say It Loud and Sing It Proud

Carrie looked herself up and down in the mirror, certain she would find something amiss. Her hair was elegantly twirled into a braided crown, her makeup was all soft pinks and subtle glitter, and her dress fit her like a glove. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her appearance, and as far as she could think of there was nothing to be worried about for the night ahead at all, which made the hammering of her heart and the watering of her eyes all the more frustrating.

She had been so excited about tonight. It was Los Feliz’s school dance and everyone had been buzzing about it for weeks. Initially Carrie hadn’t been too bothered – just another party, just another dance, she had been to plenty of those in her lifetime. But then one thing had happened and Carrie had found herself more excited about the dance than she had ever thought possible. Now that same thing had her hands shaking and her breath hitching in her throat.

“Carrie?” Nick called from her bedroom. She had almost forgotten he was there. “Are you almost ready?”

She looked up into the mirror of her ensuite again, head tilted so that she could see the reflection of her bedroom behind her, the door thrown open wide between the two rooms. Nick was lying on her bed in his suave white suit, his shoes placed neatly at the end of the bed, scrolling through his phone in boredom. She didn’t blame him – he had been waiting for her to get ready for going on two hours and there were only so many apps a person could mindlessly switch between for hours on end.

She almost envied his boredom. She would have felt exactly the same had it not been for that one perfect, terrifying thing.

Carrie shook her head, steeled herself, took a deep breath. “Yeah, just give me another minute.”

There was nothing to worry about. There was nothing to worry about. There was nothing to worry about. She repeated it in her head, a harsh mantra, one last desperate attempt to calm herself down. And with a final deep breath and glance in the mirror, she left the ensuite and perched herself primly on the end of her bed just beside Nick.

He looked up from his phone, sat up a little straighter and smiled at her. “You look great.”

Absently, Carrie remembered the days he used to say things like that in a romantic way. Compliments peppered here and there, usually followed by a kiss on the cheek or a gentle hug. She almost laughed – those days, thankfully, were far behind them and she was more happy being friends with Nick than she had ever been when they were dating.

“Thanks,” she said, trying for a smile. She wasn’t quite sure if she achieved one, but Nick made no comment so she took it as a win.

“So,” he said, sitting cross-legged in front of her. “Are you ever going to tell me who your date is for tonight?”

Carrie looked anywhere but at Nick. Ever since she had told him she had a date for the dance, he had been enthusiastically trying to guess who it was or trying to wheedle the information out of her himself. It would have been fine, a fun little bit of banter between the two of them, and eventually she would have told him – it was just that she and her date had agreed not to tell anyone until they arrived at the dance, that way they could let everyone know together. No awkward one-on-one conversations, no hurt feelings because one person knew before somebody else. It would be simpler that way.

Simple, Carrie thought, but absolutely petrifying.

“Nope,” she said brightly, forcing a giggle. “I told you, you’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Can I keep guessing then?” Nick asked.

Ah. That was the worst of it. Again, Carrie wouldn’t have minded Nick guessing. A little bit of light-hearted conversation to pass the time, an inside joke to laugh over. But there was just one problem that made Carrie endlessly uncomfortable.

All of Nick’s guesses so far had been boys.

Her date was most certainly not one of those.

It had all started about ten months ago, late August or early September, the very beginning of the school year. Carrie had turned up to her science class and had seen, to her utter dismay, a new seating plan displayed on the board. Teacher-made seating plans never worked out; Carrie would always end up sat next to someone she either hated or never spoke to. In this case, it had been the first option.

She had stalked over to her seat at the back of the classroom, already furious, and slammed her things down on the table. Sitting down, she scooted her chair as far away from the person beside her as possible, glowering all the while. The person had sighed loudly and Carrie heard shuffling as they turned to face her.

“Look,” Flynn had said, voice flat and clearly unhappy. “I’m not exactly thrilled about this either. But it’s one class and if we refuse to even try and get along with each other we’re just going to make it worse for both of us. So stop glaring at the seating plan like it killed your whole family and grow up.”

Carrie had blinked and slowly turned to look at Flynn. Her expression was as empty as her tone of voice. In a weird sort of way, it was intimidating – Carrie felt her insides squirm. There had been nothing she could have said in response (in fact she wasn’t sure she could have spoken even if she tried) so she just nodded and sat up straight primly, attention focused on their teacher.

She had never liked Flynn. There was just something about her that didn’t sit right. Maybe it was how bold and loud she was all the time, how she was so free and comfortable with herself. Maybe it was how she had become friends with Julie Molina and ever since then Carrie and Julie had drifted apart. Maybe it was how every time Carrie looked at Flynn her breath caught in her throat and her mind wandered and her heart beat faster and she wanted so desperately just to smile, which she didn’t understand at all.

Carrie had not liked Flynn, but she couldn’t deny that she was right about the seating plan. It was better to try and get on than to simply simmer in stony silence.

So they had tried. And to Carrie’s surprise, they hadn’t even had to try very hard. Their first conversations started off awkward and forced as they tried to unnaturally spark some kind of civility between them. After about a month, they had found themselves talking a lot more freely to one another, less effort needed, and silences became more comfortable.

But it wasn’t until an experiment went wrong one lesson and Carrie had ended up drenched from head to toe in water, Flynn crying with laughter like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen, that Carrie realised that maybe they had finally become friends. Ordinarily she would have been furious at Flynn (or anyone for that matter) for laughing at her when she was embarrassed, but as Flynn howled, breathless and giddy, Carrie found herself beginning to laugh too.

Since that day it had become easy. Carrie had started hanging out with Flynn’s friends more, reigniting her friendship with Julie, and soon enough Nick had joined their group as well. Carrie found herself and Flynn sharing inside jokes, texting each other all night long, meeting up on weekends just for the sake of seeing each other. Flynn even gave Carrie a nickname, only used on rare occasion – Care Bear. It was ironic, made because Carrie’s response to one too many things had been ‘I don’t care’.

For a while, they had been friends and happy that way. Every time Carrie saw Flynn, she thought her heart might burst with the giddy joy that only Flynn could instil in her. She had let herself smile that wide and bright smile she always wanted to when Flynn was around because it was allowed now. So many things were allowed now that they were friends, things Carrie had hardly even realised she wanted to do – she could hug Flynn, link arms with her, hold her hand, fall asleep on her shoulder during their sleepovers.

In fact, it was on one of those sleepovers that Carrie realised that those things she wanted to do might not have been purely friendly.

She had woken up before Flynn, sprawled on the sofa in the fort they had built (as had become a tradition for their sleepovers – who didn’t love building pillow forts?). She had stretched and rolled over, burrowing a little further into the covers, and caught sight of Flynn fast asleep on the air mattress on the floor. She looked so peaceful, wrapped in two blankets, her chest gently rising and falling as she breathed, her hair spilled over her face. Carrie had smiled and tenderly reached down to move a braid away from Flynn’s face.

Without thinking, she gently ran her thumb along Flynn’s cheek, still smiling to herself. Then she had stopped because what on Earth was she doing? And in that one moment she re-evaluated every interaction she’d ever had with Flynn, played out every moment in her head over and over again and realised in no uncertain terms that–

“I’m in love with you,” she had whispered dumbfoundedly. She didn’t think, just shook Flynn awake, more forcefully than was probably necessary. Flynn grumbled, but sat up, probably thinking there was an emergency. Carrie didn’t let her ask whatever question she probably had lined up, just repeated again so that Flynn could hear her this time, “I’m in love with you.”

Flynn’s expression had morphed from sleepy urgency to utter bewilderment to dawning realisation to pure elation.

“Really?” she had said, wide awake all of a sudden.

Carrie had just nodded – she had used up all her words.

Flynn beamed and launched herself forward, wrapping Carrie in a tight hug that she responded to as if it was the most natural thing in the world, all the both of them had been born to do.

Flynn spoke in tandem with the rising sun as its light streamed through the window and illuminated the two of them, holding onto each other, just four simple words: “I love you too.”

That had been three months ago. They had done a lot since then – officially labelled themselves girlfriends, gone on their first dates, had their first kiss. But one thing they hadn’t done was tell anyone they were together. At first it was because they had wanted to wait and see it they ‘worked’. After that, the time had never felt right, and as time went on the whole prospect had become more and more daunting.

Which was where the school dance came in. Flynn had been disappointed when Carrie had told her that she wasn’t planning on going.

“Oh, come on,” Flynn had whined, her fingers trailing through Carrie’s hair, sending shivers down her spine, “it’ll be fun! We’ll get to spend the whole night dancing and hanging out with our friends! Plus, I’m DJing for about an hour near the start so you’ve got to come and watch me.”

Carrie had remained unconvinced. “It’s just a dance. There’ll be one next year and the year after, it’s not like I’ll be missing much.”

“I want you to be there with me,” Flynn had said.

That in itself had almost been enough for Carrie – she turned to face her Flynn, whose expression was open and honest and adoring. She realised in that moment how lucky she was to have Flynn, this beautiful girl who loved and understood her and wanted her to see her doing something she was proud of. Someone who wanted to spend time with her because she couldn’t imagine anything better. Flynn was a stroke of luck, more valuable and more rare than a lottery win, and Carrie had the privilege of calling herself her girlfriend.

But nobody else knew.

“Okay,” Carrie had said, “but we’ve got to make it worthwhile.”

“It will be,” Flynn insisted, beaming. “Julie and the guys are performing as well, so that’ll be great, and I’m pretty su–”

“No,” Carrie interrupted, “I mean I have something specific in mind.”

Flynn went quiet, said nothing, nodded encouragingly.

Carrie had taken a deep breath and said, “What if we told everyone about us? Just show up and tell our friends and dance together and spend the night as Carrie-and-Flynn rather than just Carrie and Flynn?”

“Woah,” Flynn had breathed. Carrie had instantly regretted saying anything at all – was it too soon still? Did Flynn not want to move that fast? Did she not want to tell their friends at all? “Really?”

“We don’t have to,” Carrie said, turning away. She felt Flynn link their fingers together but still didn’t look back at her. “If you don’t want to then I get it.”

“I do want to,” Flynn said. Carrie turned to face her then and saw that her eyes were bright with tears. “Of course I want to. As long as you’re ready then I think we should go for it.”

Everything in Carrie had screamed at her to backtrack, to wait a little longer, that this was a mistake. But she had gripped Flynn’s hand tighter, pressed a kiss to her lips, and smiled.

“I’m ready.”

Just like that, she had gone from indifferent about the dance, to ecstatic, and now – sat on her bed beside Nick, watching him expectantly wait for her to reply – she was utterly dreading it.

“Sure,” she said now, voice thick, “you can keep guessing.”

Nick frowned and leaned back, propping himself up with his hands behind his back. “It doesn’t sound like you want me to.”

Carrie tried to look him in the eye, but just couldn’t manage it. She felt like her chest was going to burst, like her head was full of TV static. She heard Nick sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “if you don’t want me to pry then I won’t.”

“It’s not that,” Carrie assured him, quiet. She took her time as she spoke, grasping for the words – all of them felt out of her reach. “I don’t mind the guessing.”

“Then what is it?”

She looked at him. She knew Nick, she’d known him practically her entire life, ever since they were toddlers. She had dated him for two years and now considered him her closest friend. His expression now was kind, gently nudging her to say what was on her mind.

Carrie and Flynn had agreed not to tell anyone at all before the dance, but if anyone could ease Carrie’s mind it was Nick, and if she didn’t calm down soon then she wouldn’t be going to the dance at all.

So she chose to tell him.

“Flynn and I are dating,” she said, looking at her duvet instead of at him, throwing the words out in one breath so she couldn’t hesitate or stop herself. “We have been for three months and we’re supposed to be telling everyone tonight, but I just feel so nervous about it and I don’t even know why. And I wasn’t meant to tell you because we said we’d tell everyone together, but at this rate I don’t even think I can make it out of this room.”

Nick was silent for a moment. All he did was reach out and take Carrie’s hand, stilling its movement – she hadn’t realised, but she had been restlessly picking at her duvet cover and had almost worn a hole in it. He held her hand softly in his and squeezed it ever so slightly, just enough to give Carrie the courage to meet his eye.

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling. “I promise you. Everything is okay.”

Somehow she believed it. She nodded mutedly.

“There’s nothing to worry about, right?” Nick continued, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on the back of her hand. The ticklish feeling was oddly grounding. “Are you and Flynn happy together?”

“Yes,” Carrie breathed.

“Does it matter what anyone else thinks of it?”

Carrie shrugged. “You. And the rest of our friends.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, so you don’t need to worry about that. And none of our friends have a problem with Alex and Willie – why would they have a problem with you and Flynn?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. A single tear slipped down her cheek and Nick pulled a fresh pack of tissues from his pocket. Gratefully, she took one and dabbed it away.

“It’s scary,” he said. “Of course it’s scary. But at the end of the day, it’s just you and the girl you care about being who you are. And that’s such a great thing. I guarantee that once you see Flynn tonight you’ll forget you were nervous at all in the first place.”

“You think so?” she asked weakly.

“I know so,” he replied, smiling.

There was a quiet pause in which Carrie wondered how she’d ever got lucky enough to have such wonderful people in her life.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

Nick playfully punched her arm, lightening the mood just like that. “Don’t even mention it. And hey – thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I’m always here for you, you know that, right?”

She nodded. Of course she knew that.

“So,” Nick continued, “you like girls?”

Carrie giggled, still dabbing at her eyes, now more focused on not ruining her makeup than not crying. “Yes, I like girls.”

“And boys?” Nick asked hesitantly. Carrie shook her head. “Did you know that when we were dating?”

“No,” Carrie said. “I only figured it out a few months ago. Because of Flynn.”

To Carrie’s surprise, Nick beamed. She had expected him to be a little put out for reasons she couldn’t quite place, but if anything he looked happy.

“I’m glad you get to be yourself now,” he said.

Carrie pushed him playfully because her two options were joke about the situation or burst into tears, and she knew which one she would rather do.

She checked the time and realised that they definitely needed to leave sooner rather than later, so stood up and slipped her shoes on, putting the final touches to her outfit as Nick asked careful questions about her and Flynn. It was nice, finally being able to gush about her girlfriend without the fear of accidentally outing herself. As she was talking to Nick, she realised she should probably have told Flynn that Nick knew.

She sent her a quick text: I was nervous so I told Nick about us, sorry if that ruins things? Xx

To her relief, Flynn replied almost instantly with: lol it’s fine, I told Julie xx

Carrie couldn’t help but laugh to herself, mingled with a sigh of relief. At least Flynn was seemingly nervous too.

Luckily, Carrie’s house wasn’t too far away from Los Feliz. She and Nick took the short walk there, easy banter flowing between them – most of Carrie’s nerves had subsided, but there was still a nagging doubt at the back of her mind that maybe this was all a mistake. She tried to distract from it by focusing on her chat with Nick, making herself laugh a little louder than was perhaps natural, forcing smiles too wide. As they neared the entrance to the school, she couldn’t keep the act up anymore and let her smile fall.

Nick softly laid his hand on her back and Carrie took a deep breath.

“You got this,” he said encouragingly, smiling gently. “You’re Carrie Wilson – you can do anything you put your mind to.”

Hardly realising she was doing it, Carrie slipped her hand into Nick’s, some old comforting reminder of the unbreakable bond they had. It grounded her, even if it didn’t still her nerves.

Together they entered the school and made their way towards the hall where the pulsing music rocked the building’s foundations, blue and pink lights streaked into the hallway, and the vibrant cheers and chatter from the students of Los Feliz echoed like thunder. In some last-ditch grab for calm, Carrie stepped in ahead of Nick.

The hall had been decorated marvellously, but Carrie hardly saw it. The second she had walked in, her eyes had trained on the stage where Flynn was stood behind the DJ set. She looked radiant, her hair pulled away from her face with butterfly clips, her dress every shade of the sunset glowing in the fluorescent lights, her smile bright and gleeful. She looked distracted though – Carrie watched as Flynn’s eyes scanned the room, searching for something.

Or someone.

Searching for Carrie.

Her nerves were suddenly long gone. Her hand fell from Nick’s and she pushed her way through the crowd, ending up in front of the stage, directly in front of Flynn. Their eyes met, and Carrie knew that the happiness in Flynn’s eyes was mirrored in her own. Nick had been right; just seeing Flynn being her beautiful self had melted Carrie’s worries away.

“You made it!” Flynn called, moving her headphones away from her ears, yelling over the music. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now I’m with you,” Carrie called back. She was aware of how soppy the line was, how cheesy and predictable, but it was true. Seeing Flynn had made everything feel alright.

“I’ll come and catch up with you after I finish my set,” Flynn told her. “The others are sat over there, I’ll be as quick as I can!”

Waving goodbye, Carrie hurried over to where Flynn had pointed. Julie and Luke were sat close beside each other in their matching outfits, Luke talking Julie’s ear off as she watched him with a fond expression; Alex and Willie were with each other, hands clasped firmly together, heads bowed in private conversation; Nick had joined Reggie and the two were already wrapped up in an animated conversation. Carrie smiled to herself and sat down beside Julie.

Julie turned away from Luke momentarily, just long enough to give Carrie a smile that said a thousand things in just one second. There was one overwhelming message in it though: I’m happy for you both.

Carrie gave a tiny smile back, then turned to watch as Flynn wrapped up her set and left the stage empty, bounding over to the group. It was at that moment that Carrie realised they hadn’t exactly worked out how they were going to reveal to their friends that they were an item – this whole thing could turn incredibly awkward very quickly if neither of them knew what they were doing.

Thankfully, it seemed Flynn wasn’t as worried.

She reached the group, ignored their friends exclamations of, “Nice job, Flynn,” and, “You killed it,” in favour of cupping Carrie’s face in her hands and pressing a firm but loving kiss to her lips. Out of surprise, Carrie didn’t react, but Flynn pulled away quickly anyway, an ecstatic smile on her face. She pulled a chair up, sat beside Carrie, and gripped her hand tightly.

“Did you like my set?” Flynn asked, clearly knowing the answer.

“It was amazing,” Carrie gushed, fiddling with Flynn’s fingers between her own. “You were amazing.”

Flynn smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder, proud of herself.

“Is this a thing now?”

Luke had interrupted their moment without a moment’s hesitation. He was leaned over the table past Julie (who was smirking knowingly), and it was only then that Carrie noticed she and Flynn had Alex, Willie, Reggie, and Nick’s eyes on them too. She looked in the only direction that felt safe – towards Flynn. Flynn smiled, pulled Carrie closer by her hand, and shrugged.

“Of course it’s a thing,” she said like it was obvious, like it was common knowledge.

There was no awkward pause, no judgemental looks, no hint that anyone might not have reacted positively. In fact, it was quite the opposite – Alex was out of his seat in a moment, catching Carrie in a hug and telling her in no uncertain terms that he was proud of her; Willie and Reggie reached over to Flynn and the three of them quickly performed the secret handshake they’d made a few months prior; Luke looked utterly dumbfounded, like he hadn’t seen this coming in the slightest, but he was grinning; and Julie and Nick were both watching Flynn and Carrie with private, kind smiles.

Carrie had never felt so loved.

The night flew past. It was a whirlwind of colour and smiles and laughter and dancing and food and drink and joy and love. Carrie had howled with laughter as Alex, Luke, and Reggie had attempted the lift from Dirty Dancing but failed miserably; she had danced along with Flynn, Willie, and Nick as Julie and the Phantoms performed their set; she pulled Flynn to sit in her lap when they both got too tired to carry on dancing.

Eventually, Carrie and Nick broke away from the group to get everyone drinks. While they were over at the refreshment table, Nick nudged Carrie with his shoulder.

“What?” she said.

He smiled and threw an arm around her shoulders. “I’m proud of you. And I love you.”

She rolled her eyes, supressing a smile. “Shut up.”

A moment later though, she added a quiet, “I love you too.”

The night began to draw to a close and the final songs started playing. Carrie was brimming with giddy excitement still, but it had dulled as exhaustion began to weigh her down. The room felt hazy and dizzy as everyone grew tired, but still Carrie wanted to stay there forever, beside Flynn (who somehow still looked full of energy), holding her hand and simply existing with her.

Until a slow song began to play and couples flooded the dance floor.

Julie and Luke were the first of their group to gravitate towards the gathering crowd, Alex and Willie hot on their heels. Reggie tugged Nick to the dance floor, telling him he didn’t want to be left out and they could dance together even if they weren’t a couple. So Flynn and Carrie were left together, hand in hand by the edge of the dance floor.

Flynn looked to Carrie, something sentimental and sweet in her depthless brown eyes. Carrie thought that if she looked into them for too long she’d never be able to look away – Flynn had that effect on her, always pulling her closer, drawing her in. She loved it more than words could say.

“May I have this dance?” Flynn offered, tone light and joking. It didn’t mean that Carrie missed the underlying nerves – it seemed that this was the first thing all night to really rattle Flynn. Something as simple as a slow dance.

So Carrie decided to be brave.

“You never have to ask to dance with me,” she said, beaming, and pulled Flynn onto the dance floor.

They fell into a soft rhythm naturally, in the centre of the floor, swaying in tandem with each other. Flynn’s arms were linked around Carrie’s neck, and Carrie planted her hands gently on Flynn’s waist. For a while, they simply looked at each other, the silence between them too meaningful to be broken by anything other than the slow song that played in the background. But after a while, Flynn rested her head on Carrie’s shoulder. Carrie felt Flynn’s eyes flutter shut against her skin, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m glad we did this,” she whispered, her own eyes falling shut as they swayed together. She wasn’t taking any notice of what she was saying, but she knew she meant every word. “This feels right. I’m so happy I get to be with you – you mean everything to me.”

“I love you,” Flynn said, her breath warm on Carrie’s neck and collarbone.

“I love you too,” she breathed.

That night, Flynn stayed at Carrie’s house because it was just that little bit closer to school than her own. By the time they arrived there, Carrie’s dad had gone to bed and the house was quiet and calm, only lit by the light of the moon, washing in through the large windows. Carrie led Flynn upstairs to her bedroom – both of them were so tired that they fell into Carrie’s bed without bothering to put their pyjamas on or get ready for bed in any way.

Carrie shuffled about, folding herself around Flynn, her face tucked into Flynn’s hair. Not for the first time, she thought about how lucky she was to have Flynn, this wonderful girl who was all hers, who loved her and was loved by her in return.

“Hey,” she whispered, half asleep already, “thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you,” Flynn yawned, eyes opening just enough to look at Carrie, a small smile on her face. “You’re the one who made it special, Care Bear. I’m proud of us.”

Carrie kissed her, just once, gently. It was the kind of soft kiss that felt like it would shatter the Earth if it ever stopped, or like Carrie’s heart would stop beating if Flynn ever stopped touching her.

“I’m proud of us too,” she whispered.

It was impossible to imagine that it was in this very room just hours before that Carrie had been dreading going to the dance. Now she was glad she had gone because it hadn’t been just another party, just another dance, and there certainly wouldn’t be another one like it for as long as she lived.

[omgkalyppso]

2, 4 and 5 for the fae poly for the otp ask thing? :D

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ Thank you so much for the ask! I can't shut up about Claude x Hilda x Lorenz x Fae again.

2. How do they wake up next to each other? Ex - Tangled in each other’s arms? Is one falling off the bed? ECT.

I've written so much sleeping that there are a few examples, but to speak Generally:

Claude makes jokes about being kicked off the bed for three reasons: 1. He expects rejection, especially from people's subconscious (in this case unconscious) selves. It takes a lot of time for him to feel settled in a relationship, and that includes sleeping arrangements. 2. He's hopeful about love, and willing to demonstrate things he'll tolerate to earn it and keep it. 3. He usually cannot sleep if he's in physical contact with another person. The idea of someone touching him while he's unconscious makes him nervous; more trust issues.

So Claude might wake half off the bed for preference and because of little movements, but in a setting that allows it he's just on his belly on one side of the bed, in the comfort of his own space. Far prefers being little spoon when he's just looking to be in bed.

Lorenz is near the opposite. Having romanticized near every aspect of a long term relationship, there are a lot of bits that he has to adjust his expectations of, but the satisfaction of being big or little spoon isn't one of them. The friendly weight of someone he loves, and who loves him, sleeping on an arm or his chest or belly is worth any pins and needles.

I love Hilda's dislike of extreme heat or cold. It's so fun to play with. In warmer temperatures, she starfishes across her partners, and in colder ones she'll cling to Fae or Claude who are more prone to excess body heat. Side sleeper. Prefers to be little spoon, but also likes to hold people now and again.

Fae will usually sleep like a log. However they fell asleep, they will wake up that way (unless they've had unpleasant dreams). This might mean sleeping separate to Claude, on their belly, facing his direction, or on their side, around Hilda or tucked into Lorenz's side.

4. Who picks something up, says a pun with the object then laughs as if it’s the funniest thing they ever heard?

Of the four of them, it would have to be Claude. I still think puns are neither his preferred form of humor nor his forte, but, if it'll get a groan out of his audience (probably worse after he's had children) then he's going for it.

5. How do they hype one another up?

I imagine that it's early in their relationship that Claude realized that Hilda cannot be hyped up the same way as another person, because she'll just sink into her shell and talk louder about her exhaustion and inadequacies. However, indirect compliments only take her motivation so far, and don't suit either of them. Anyway. To hype Hilda up, her partners focus on compliments and reassurances of a safety net of emotion. If she's feeling apprehensive about something, they don't want to trivialize her worries, and instead reminder her of their support.

For small challenges, Lorenz doesn't mind, and actively enjoys being goaded. His pomp has matured, but it hasn't expired. For larger insecurities, his partners would check in and talk about the things they have done or could do to support him in measurable ways, which would include emotional labor. It's just that saying "I care about you," can fall a little flat when his father said the same. He needs to hear where you care, how you care, to be able to point at a thing and know that this is love without them telling him so.

If you try to hype Claude up in the company of others, he's going to either be stony or laugh it off. He has to be brought aside, somewhere private, and he's patient for it. He's a deeply caring person, but he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve when he can help it. To hype him up through challenges and decisions he needs to have the security of a space where he can talk things through, even if his partners can't always contribute, he needs to feel heard and cared for. He has to learn how to ask for reassurance, but often he doesn't have to, they're vocal and it's there. If there's failure, they fail together, and they can come through it after.

In the same way that Fae is impulsive, they aren't presented with a lot of circumstances to dwell on prospective challenges and opportunities. When these moments do arise, their partners manage their insecurities by assuring them of past accomplishments, and with declarations of all they'll do to ensure the reason they need to be hyped up is looked back on just another moment in their storied past. Fae can lose sight of the past otherwise, and have everything feel like one long moment that would naturally end in their failure. They need to be reminded that things were real, and that they're happy now and will be again in the future, regardless of any challenges between these moments.

[yikeswtfmate]

Puzzle

previous part // It’s All Fun and Games Series Masterlist // main masterlist

Summary: Bucky and Y/N answer one question.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: might it be...spring? 👀

A cherry blossom petal falls and slides over a bare shoulder, golden flowers inlaid into a loose braid glimmer in the light of the sun, and two wide eyes – incredulous, delighted, in love – shift every few seconds, trying to imprint every single moment of this day. There are birds chirping in the distance, muffled by the steady flow of soft conversations just feet away from her. The crisp white curtains float behind her, on a dance played by the breeze – lilac in nature, a soft undertone of water, where frogs sing their song.

There’s a flurry of hair and dresses around her, and the only constant is her father – misty eyed, although he promised he won’t cry. They both knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his word, especially when their eyes lock above three little giggling girls with baskets of flowers dangling from their tiny hands. She shakes her head once at him, he smiles, but covers his mouth with a trembling hand.

Her mother places a hand on his forearm, whispering words of encouragement, a wink in her direction. She might be the tougher one between them both, yet her mascara is already smudged. A grunt from her sister, and their mother is ushered out, complaints and mumbles ignored. A last unspoken conversation, fingers squeezed tightly, and her sister follows the path laid by the distinct chords of the music.

Two redheads in front of her now, and she might just crumble, if it weren’t for their arms around her bare back. Flowers to the side – don’t crush them, be careful – and two distinct pecks on her cheeks, a nudge and a pinch on her arm and she giggles through the tears before they’re also gone.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Her father asks, and she can’t say it, she’s choked up, she’s barely holding it all together, because yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

Her hand looped around his arm, she takes a step – one, two, three, careful now, do not trip, and she’s temporarily blinded by the sudden sunlight. She blinks a few times, trying to get used to it, her father’s presence a monolith beside her, steeling her against the tears that have tried to spill for the past week.

She’s sure this might do it – the sudden hush, the music caressing her ears, her pounding heart; she could just fall to the ground, in a white cloud of lace and organza. Until she opens her eyes and there it is. The reason behind her tears, her smiles, her trembling hands, her happiness, her love, her I love you more every day.

He’s mesmerised, words and thoughts abandoning him, because there’s nothing else he sees but her, her, her. He can only see years of laughter, dancing fingers, tugging lips, and crinkled noses; of good morning, you big dummy, of I don’t want to go out, let’s just spend the day in bed, of I can’t believe we didn’t realise it sooner.

He can only say I promise, I promise, I promise until the end of time – you. Only you, forever. And there’s a battle of smiles and tears, but they can’t do anything more than squeeze each other’s hands, promising, promising, promising. She says I love you – only you, forever, but that’s an old one, lost in the fabric of time, feeling like forever ago, yet it’s the only answer in their universe, the one constant truth.

Rings slipping on fingers, fitting into place like missing pieces in a game of an unknown jigsaw puzzle – never to be moved again. Two whispers – I do, and then. And then, and then, and then forever.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

It’s darker now, sky set ablaze until the stars blinked open their eyes, competing with the lanterns hanging above laughter, whispers, shouts and giggles. Their heads are pressed together, breaths mingling and she can taste the sweet tang of champagne on his lips. His arm is draped over the back of her chair, her knees between his, face to face, crinkled eyes and still staring in wander.

“Baby.” He murmurs, because he doesn’t want the spell to break – this precious gift he’s been given, that he’s still afraid might run away. “We’ve done it. We’re married. I can call you my wife now.”

“Isn’t it great?” She giggles. “Bucky, my husband. You’re James, my husband, now.”

A knife tapped on a glass and slowly the chatter dies down, guests turn in their seats and Steve is suddenly looking flustered. He might be a great lawyer, but this might be one of the most important speeches he’ll ever have to utter. He clears his throat, tugs at his collar and looks at Peggy for a second, asking for silent support. She smiles and nods, waiting for him to start.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, then you’ve probably only met the groom today as well. Bucky and I have been inseparable for nearly 30 years and I’d like to thank him for finally confirming that I am indeed his best friend after all this time of having to listen to him berate me for every single thing.

“Today I am supposed to say a few words about the main man – about whom I can honestly say that he’s the most handsome, most intelligent and funniest man you’ll ever meet and I am so proud of calling him my friend. So if you bump into him today – where’s Tony? Today is his birthday so please let him know that we haven’t forgotten about him, he’ll have his party after this wedding is done – happy birthday, Tony!”

A ripple of laughter, followed by a wave of “happy birthday, Tony!” and Steve shakes his head, getting into his element. Bucky chuckles when Y/N whistles next to him, whooping in delight.

“In all seriousness now, I’ve also known Y/N for almost 12 years now, when this little Tasmanian devil showed up with 50 balloons at a bar, letting us all know that – hey, did you know it takes 364 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?” His voice turns a few notes higher, until it’s only a squeak, earning another wave of laughter.

“I’m so happy for both of you that Bucky is also a weirdo and instead of hitting on you like a normal person, he just let you know that the blob of toothpaste that sits on your toothbrush is called a nurdle. It was meant to be, wasn’t it?

“You’d think so, but we all have to remember that these two are two complete and utter dumbasses. It only took them ten years of friendship – which mind you, that is not how friends act, ok? I’m sorry to the parents that are here tonight, but your children think they can regularly have sleepovers and only be friends? You’ve raised two dense kids, and you can’t get mad at me, because I’m part of both your families, ok?

“It only took them ten years of friendship to realise the utter love and adoration they have for each other. I’ve never seen Bucky happier than when he’s with Y/N and I think I speak for everyone here tonight who knows you two how excited and proud we all are to finally be able to call you Mr and Mrs Barnes.

“Now Bucky has been with me through thick and thin and I can hand to heart say he’s the most loyal, genuine gentleman I’ve ever known. But you also have to remember that Buck here doesn’t like to be the center of attention, so I was more than certain that today he’d be a nervous wreck. This morning, however, he was the calmest I’ve ever seen him. I asked him ‘Buck, this is the most important day of your life and you’re not nervous?’ and you know what he said?

“He said ‘Steve, when you know you’ve made the best decision of your life, when you know you get to spend the rest of your life with the person who’s made you the happiest you’ve ever been, what the hell is there to be nervous about?’ This perfectly sums up the love this man has for his wife. I couldn’t have hoped for anyone better for either of you.

“I wish you both a long and happy marriage together. I know that you always said you’re soulmates, but I didn’t believe it until I’ve seen you two today. You were truly meant to love each other. So, everyone, please raise your glasses to the bride and groom, Y/N and Bucky! Congratulations!”

The cheers and applause die down long after Steve’s downed his glass of champagne. A long hug between the boys, Bucky might be in tears, but he’ll be damned if he lets Sam see it. Y/N is crying, it’s their big day and she’ll ruin her make-up, they have enough photos, who cares anymore, because she’s feeling too deeply, too many emotions that could never be bottled up. Steve laughs at her, a giggle on her lips and they sway from side to side in a tight hug – “you two made us all believe in true love,” he whispers and she might need that tissue Bucky is holding out for her.

She pulls herself together, takes in a deep breath and looks at Bucky, her Bucky, like he’s hung the moon – now and forever. His gaze follows her as she stands up again, clearing her throat and shaking her shoulders. Someone hands her a microphone. He has no idea what she has planned, but he’ll sit there and listen to her all his life as if her words are nectar and he’s a starved man.

“Hi. I haven’t done anything to prepare for this speech and if you know me at all, you wouldn’t be surprised about this in the least.” He laughs together with the rest, and Nat shouts an encouragement from somewhere down the table.

“I just wanted to stand up and thank you all for being here with us today, on what must be one of the happiest days of my life yet. I cannot express in words how much this man means to me, or the love I hold for him, but I’ll try.” Y/N says and her fingers find his, a glint in her eyes.

“Bucky has been my best friend for twelve years now, and although Steve would never admit it, I love him more than anyone else in this entire world. Also, I’m sorry, Mrs Barnes, move over, there’s a new Mrs Barnes in town! I’m joking, I love you, please don’t take me off the Christmas list.

She fully turns to him now, tears in her eyes, and Bucky knows in that moment that he could die right there and he’d have been the happiest man alive.

“As I was saying, this gorgeous man has been my rock, my anchor, my pillar in times of happiness and sadness. He’s the most kind, most loving, and most generous person I’ve ever met. He’s been there for me when I was at my worst and at my best. He’s seen me with bangs, and he’s seen me crying at 3 in the morning because we didn’t have any ice cream left.

“James Barnes is my soulmate. We’ve admitted this many times before, we’ve shouted it on top of our lungs, we’ve tattooed it on our bodies. I’m not joking, mom, I’m sorry, that is a J, not just half of a heart; which you should’ve known couldn’t be possible because he holds my entire heart, not just half of it. I love this man with my entire being, I’ve never been happier than when you hold my hand. You bring order to my chaos, you bring out all that’s best in me, you bring me sunshine and laughter and all that’s sweet in life just by looking at me.

“I’m so grateful that I’ve met you and I never could have imagined that I will ever know a love so deep. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, because I know each day will be a new adventure. You’re my soulmate and I love you, James Barnes.”

There’s a ruckus as each person stands up, clapping, shouting, whistling and whooping – a clamour of noise that gets drowned out the second Bucky’s arms circle around her waist. He’s crying now – fully and unabashed. He loves this woman more than he’ll ever love anyone else, and it’s in the way her fingers brush across the hair at his nape, the way her body aligns so perfectly with his, the way her mouth curves in the softest smile when he kisses her lips, the way her eyes will always tell him I love you, I love you, I love you. You, only you, for the rest of my life.

“I love you too, baby.”

***

The End.

A/N: It’s been a true rollercoaster and I loved every minute of it. IAFAG has been my first baby, and the first actual series that I’ve written. I’ve never attempted anything on this scale, but I can only say that I definitely don’t regret it, it’s been fun, it’s been great and these Bonky & Reader will always always always will have a special place in my heart.

I would like to thank all of you for reading and loving this series. The positive feedback, love and the overflow of support has been not only unexpected, but I couldn’t have even hoped for something like this! I love all of you, thank you!

Lastly, thank you to @the-chocolate-moose​ for supporting me along every single step of this, for listening to me spewing bullshit on a daily basis, reading said bullshit at 2 in the fucking morning bc I cannot function like a normal human being, letting me know when I’m losing the characters and all in all for being a wonderful person! I love you, this whole series is yours as much as it’s mine!

[wheresmynaya]

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.”