#like you can’t just go work with another qb after that?? what will he even say during press about some other random dude??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohpretty-baby · 4 years ago

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my babysitter’s a quarterback • jjk

⇥ pairing: qb!jungkook x cheerleader!reader

⇥ side pairing: namseok

⇥ synopsis: after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age.

⇥ genre: fluff, crackfic, angst, e2l, jungkook is stupid, jimin’s an asshole, hoseok’s a sweetie, namjoon is also a sweetie, reader is Stressed, pining, mutual pining

⇥ warnings: cursing, crude humor, mentions of cheating, divorce

⇥ word count: 30.0k

based off a request for @fan-ati--c (i hope you like it dear!)

a/n: hi everyone!!! this is my first ever lengthy fic, so pls have mercy on me. i had a lotta fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy!!!! much much much much MUCH love <333 (feel free to give feedback and your opinions!)

“Y/N, what has gotten into you?” Your mom gently places the tip of her fork on her plate, folding her hands together. Her words are stern, but she doesn’t raise her voice in order to save face. The air at the dinner table is dense and heavy on you, and the fact that your father and your little sister, Clementine, seem to have their eyes glued on you doesn’t help either. Clementine sniffles and the sound makes your blood boil.

You sigh, looking up from your phone to shoot a glare to your mother. You also send a glance of distaste towards your sister, which allows you to get a quick sight of her puffy eyes and runny nose. The prongs of your fork are poking your lips while you lazily chew the spaghetti stuffed in your mouth. Shrugging, you place your phone and the fork down, folding your hands in order to mirror your mom seated in front of you.

You stay silent, lips pressed tightly into a thin line, because you know she has more to say.

“Darling, you’re being extremely immature,” Your mom always had to give it to you straight, “You know that Clementine didn’t mean to upset you.”

As always, your mother is articulate and sharp when she speaks. Not once does she stutter, and after being her daughter for 17 years, you’re not entirely sure if she’s ever stumbled on her words before in her entire life. It’s indicative of her personality: intelligent, quick-witted, skilled, yet unbelievably blunt. From the way her patients praise her for constantly being compassionate and kind, you often wonder if your mom really is a psychiatrist or if she’s hired a clone to work in her stead.

It’s not that you hated your mom. You loved her dearly, as you did with the rest of your family. The reason why you seemed to always butt heads with her, though, is simply because you have a little too much in common with her (personality-wise). Your dad’s always said that you were a carbon copy of your mother, after all.

“All I’m asking is that Clem asks me if she can use my makeup,” You cough, a few bits of the noodles going down the wrong pipe, “You, of all people, mom, know how expensive lipstick can be. I need that for football games.”

It’s not a clear statistic, but it is a pretty solid fact. You always use facts in order to back up your arguments, just so that your parents can’t say anything in response. Sometimes it works. You’re still waiting for the day when you have something impactful to use.

“Well, you know that when she sees you getting all pretty,” She taps her fingers on the wooden table, “She wants to do the same, and as the-“

“As the older sister, I have to share,” You roll your eyes, and you shift your focus on Clementine, “Sorry, ok? I won’t get so mad next time.”

“Clementine, what do you say?”

“It’s ok,” She sniffles, wiping her eyes.

“No, dear. What do you say?”

“I forgive you, Y/N.”

You bite back the sarcastic comments you’re dying to say, opting to stuff your mouth with spaghetti instead. The rest of your family starts eating as well, and you keep your head low to avoid making eye contact with your sister. You love her with almost every bone in your body, but right now, you can’t tell if you want to throw your food at her or slap her with your ceramic plate.

Today, she took it upon herself to go through your makeup bag and steal one of your (again, highly expensive) lipsticks so she could slice it with a butterknife purely out of boredom. This all happened while you were taking a bath, and when you got into your room, you saw her sitting at your desk, lipstick chunks spread all over one of your old math notebooks. So of course, you yelled at her.

Then she cried. Then your mom made you apologize because you were upset that she wrongfully went through your stuff without permission. But that’s really how things have always been, ever since you were 5 years old and Clementine was just born. You’ve grown up constantly taking the blame for Clementine’s wrongdoings. It’s just how things work in your household, because your parents genuinely believe that she could do no wrong.

Apparently, being 12 gave you lots of perks.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, listen to me when I speak to you.”

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You don’t care about matching your mom’s formality anymore, your cheek puffed up with more food.

“I was asking you how your day was.”

“Oh, just wonderful. Fantastic. Dandy,” You snap back, not really aware of what you’re saying as your words fly out of your mouth.

“What’s with your attitude, young lady?” She scoffs, then pauses a bit before speaking again, “Listen, I know that it’s tough, having to see Jimin-“

You slam your hands on the table, standing up. Your chair screeches awkwardly against the wood flooring of the dining room. Swallowing down the rest of your food, you try to soothe the hard lump forming in your throat.

“Do not try to analyze me. I’m not one of your patients. There’s nothing you need to fix about me, got it?” You raise your voice, staring her dead in the eye, “I just had a shit week and I very much do not need you to try and pinpoint whatever’s going on in my head.”

Your mother gasps, and only now does your dad decide to speak.

“Young lady, go to your room right now,” His words fall flat, and you scoff at him.

Your parents were complete opposites. If your mother was over analytical, your father could never read the room. Not because he was dumb, per say, but because he was always in his own little world. He always responded a little too late, felt things a second after they should be felt. That’s just how your dad thinks. He doesn’t mean to be mentally absent when all of you were at home, but he’s always been preoccupied with his work. That’s a big thing you’ve admired about your dad, how easily he can focus on one thing and ignore the rest. It’s one of the main reasons why he was so successful as an architect. Growing up, you would stay up past your bedtime just so you could be with him in his office. You’d watch how he could just sit down and create a multitude of building designs without getting distracted.

By the way he looks at you with a flash of guilt in his eyes, you can tell that he’s the only one that gets your reasoning. You can also tell that he knows how wrong it is for your mom to bring up your ex-boyfriend during dinner.

But because he wants to uphold his “authoritative” figure, he needs to “put his foot down”.

“I was planning on it anyway, thanks,” You grumble, storming off.

Once you reach your room, you slam the door—purely for dramatic effect. You throw yourself on the bed, getting out your phone and doing the first thing that pops into your head. You call Hoseok and he answers right away. A smile flashes on your face as you feel some relief from your anger.

“Hello?”

Jung Hoseok has been your best friend ever since you first stepped into your hellhole of a high school building. He was your saving grace. The only thing that kept you sane.

When you joined the Monarchs, the cheerleading squad of your school, Hoseok was the only person who talked to you during practice, even if he was a year older than you. An infamous characteristic of his is his big smile. His lips always resembled a widened heart, and he showed off his pearly whites wherever he went, exuding happiness that was extremely contagious. And if his smile was big, his heart was even bigger.

You know this because Hoseok immediately asks you “Is everything okay?” when he hears your shaky breath over the line.

You explain to him what had happened seconds prior to this phone call. Then your conversation spirals into you ranting about how your parents have been telling you that you’ve been a terrible sibling. It’s something insulting to hear, knowing that they’ve always made you take the blame for everything your sister does. It hurts even more that they can’t acknowledge the fact that getting through a breakup is hard for a 17 year old girl. They couldn’t even cut you some slack.

A pang of guilt hits you when you relay everything you’ve said to your sister over to Hoseok. Maybe you were somewhat in the wrong here. But could you blame yourself? You were going through a hard time, and it’s not unusual for someone who’s stressed to act out. Not to mention when the stressor is heartbreak.

During the beginning of September, you found Park Jimin, your past boyfriend of one year, and some other Sophomore on the cheer team making out in his car afterschool. It was now the end of October, but the memory haunts you in your every waking moment. The image of another girl pressed up on him, her skirt hiked up high enough so that you could see her spandex, flashes in your mind. In your head, you see Jimin running her hands all over the girl’s skin, purple splotches blooming on her neck and on his.

You shut your eyes, rubbing them violently as you try to ignore the painful truth: If you hadn’t decided to surprise him with some brownies you made for him that day, they would’ve done a lot more than just making out.

The notion makes tears prick your eyes, the familiar sting returning. You had been crying almost every night. Everytime you close your eyes, the same image of him and that girl appears and you can’t get rid of it at all.

You’re about to break down again, and Hoseok talks you through it. He allows you to vent, to let everything out, and he promises that the two of you will hang out after tomorrow’s practice. It gives you relief, something to look forward to at the end of the next school day. Tomorrow was Friday after all, and like you said before to your mom, your week was shit.

There had to be at least one good thing you could have this week.

That statement is short lived, however, because instead of sitting with Hoseok at your favorite diner with a strawberry milkshake in front of you, you’re sitting at your dinner table yet again, poking at pizza with a plastic fork. You stare at the grease stains on your paper plate in disgust, as the dining room is so silent you can practically hear the small ticks of the red second hand of the clock on the wall.

What a great way to start the weekend. Friendless, boyfriend-less, and miserable. You look up from the greasy mess before you to shoot a glare to the person in front of you.

“Why the hell are you here?” are your first words to the boy.

“Your parents called me?” He responds, mimicking your questioning tone. You scoff at him.

Jeon Jungkook. The cocky, annoying as fuck quarterback on the football team who coincidentally sits behind you in Pre-Calc everyday is now sitting across from you at your dinner table. The boy who breaks off pieces of eraser chunks and throws them at your head just to annoy you while the teacher is giving a lesson. The kid who kicks your chair at least five times every single day just because he has fun getting a rise out of you.

You don’t know how exactly your hatred for him began, but it definitely started when you first became a cheerleader.

Popularity was never something that came easily to you. Many people don’t remember, but in Freshman year, the only time your class knew of you was when your name was called for attendance. You didn’t play any sports, nor did you participate in theatre or had any musical talents whatsoever. You were simply just, there.

This all changed when your mom suggested cheerleading. You did have a few years of solid gymnastic experience and you really had nothing better to do, so you decided to take the opportunity to sign up for tryouts.

It was hard, and you slipped up a lot of times, but the coaches saw potential in you. They told you that you’ve really got drive, and they praised you for continuing to get up and perfectly following directions when they asked you to execute an especially hard move. Eventually, you were accepted and once you had more time to practice, you had gotten the hang of cheerleading quite quickly. You ended up falling in love with the sport, working hard both on and off the field. You always got constant praise for your willingness to learn new things.

And with your new success on the team, you gained a reputation for yourself.

When, exactly, did Jungkook join the picture?

You’re not sure. He kind of forced himself in.

One day, you weren’t at your usual best. The sun was beating down on you harshly, which didn’t make things any better. The football team had been practicing with you guys, and it was obvious that many of the boys were ogling at the cheerleaders. They would nudge each, looking suggestively at the girls while whispering crude comments about them.

Jungkook, being the youngest and most energetic one on the team, had other ideas in mind. You see, he lived quite loudly and he was… Eccentric, to say the least.

His eyes were focused on the cheerleaders, pinpointing at anything that would be of use to him. He peered around intently, looking for any mess ups or mistakes that they had made. He would have made fun of anyone, really. Jungkook didn’t know much about the girls on the squad, so he really had no problem using their flaws to his benefits. He wanted to make his own team laugh, and that in itself was justification enough for Jungkook.

It was just unfortunate that you were his target.

Once he saw you topple over on the ground, he was ready.

“Hey, thunder thighs! Be careful out there!”

After that, you heard nothing but boisterous laughter from the football players. It was an immature insult, one ridiculous enough to enrage you. You wished you could’ve ran over to the other side of the field and just punched him the gut, right then and there. But his own coach and grabbed him by the ear, dragging him towards you so he could apologize.

It was a lame apology, and you could tell that he was trying everything in his absolute power to bite back the laugh he was holding in. You would've said something about it, but since Jungkook was more built than you and there were authorities present, you reluctantly accepted the apology, choosing to go on with your practice instead of letting it get to you.

And after that day, Jungkook has made it his goal to torment you whenever he sees you. Since he sits behind you in Pre-Calc now, that’s become his job every day.

Jungkook was taller than Jimin. He was a pretty attractive football player, too. You would give him at least that. But he was meaner than Jimin. A bigger asshole than Jimin. More annoying than Jimin could ever be.

Literally any good quality that you thought you could find in a guy, Jeon Jungkook did not possess it. Any kindness, sympathy, or even general decency in his heart was nowhere to be found.

He had messy brown hair, a smug grin on his face that you’d love to punch, and a lean body that you wish had gone cripple. Confidence wasn’t something that he had a lack of. In fact, Jungkook’s cup overfloweth with so much confidence to the point where describing him as merely confident would be a misdeed.

Narcissistic was the word. He was extremely narcissistic and obsessed with himself, which was indicative of the daily gym snaps he’d post on his Snapchat story. He was everything that disgusted you about guys combined and turned human.

Jungkook’s very presence could set you off, and you know that he lives off of that.

This is no different from your Friday night, as he’s gnawing on pizza right in your own damn house. He’s scrolling through his phone and you’re staring at him in disgust, while Clementine has already eaten and is now sitting on the couch, curled up with some sci-fi book she got from the store last week. Taking in his appearance, you inwardly cringe when you notice him lick the oil that has found itself on his fingers.

“There’s a napkin right next to you.”

“That would be a waste of paper,” Jungkook responds, licking away the last remnant of oil and marinara sauce on his thumb, “Gotta be eco-friendly, y’know?”

He wiggles his fingers at you, his infamous shit-eating grin appearing yet again. You hate the way his mouth tugs up to the right a little bit, how his eyes gleam mischievously since he’s so full of himself. If Clementine wasn’t in the house right now, you’re certain that Jungkook would’ve been on the floor, knocked out. You would’ve hit him with a frying pan, like in that one Disney movie Clementine loved so much. Or you would’ve hit him with your Pre-Calc textbook. That shit was heavy. You could knock him out cold with that. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

You roll your eyes at him, saying nothing and eating the rest of your pizza. You make a mental note to ask your parents why the fuck they thought it was a good idea to call over Jungkook on a Friday night.

But you know the answer to that already. They seem to believe that you haven’t been “responsible” enough for Clementine, which is weird, knowing that you’ve practically raised her all her life. Your parents have always been too busy to spend enough quality time with her, save for when they defend her at dinnertime.

So instead of having a civil conversation with you—or even asking if you were doing alright—they decided (without your permission) that a babysitter would be the best option for your little sister. And you still had to stay at home tonight because your mom asked you to “see if the babysitter is okay for Clementine”.

You’re not sure where the logic was in your parents’ thought process, but you did feel bad about your sister. She had warmed up to you a little bit after yesterday, but you know that she’ll stay closed off for a while. Not only to you, but to everyone else. You wish that your parents had known that. If they did, they’d be able to get that you’re probably the best babysitter for her. But no, they had to invite Jungkook over, someone who’s boisterous and annoying, and they probably expect Clementine to get along with him just fine. (And also, what had even compelled him to start a career in babysitting?)

So you decide to stay, just so she won’t be scared of being in her own house. You have been hard on her for a little bit after all, getting irrational and moody whenever she talks to you. It’s the least you could do for her. Despite everything, you still did really love her.

She was your sister, for goodness sake!

“Hey, just a reminder,” Jungkook’s at your trash can, throwing away his plate, “Your bedtime’s at 10 tonight.”

It’s a stupid statement, and both of you are aware that the rules are for your sister. You can’t help but feel yourself heat up, though, when he sends a wink your way.

“That’s for my sister, you dumb fu-“

Your obvious response and insult combo is interrupted when you find Clementine standing in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Her voice is timid, shy, and her head hangs low when she speaks. She doesn’t like how there’s some random stranger in the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Can we play Telestrations?” She keeps her eyes on you, and you feel yourself soften. It’s been a little bit since the two of you played anything together.

“Mind if I join in?” Jungkook says before you can actually respond to her. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and Clementine blinks at him, stunned. All she does is nod, too afraid to verbally respond to your classmate.

You’re also stunned by his sudden change in demeanor. His cocky aura is replaced with a soft tone, smiling brightly at Clementine instead of smirking at you. He walks over to her, asking her where the board game is. She mumbles something quietly, something only Jungkook can hear, and he responds with an even more enthusiastic grin. He turns to you before they make their way back to the living room.

“You coming, or…?”

So that’s how you find yourself at your coffee table with your little sister and the most annoying person you’ve met in your entire life, getting ready to play a round of Telestrations.

All you can say is that your night definitely isn’t going the way you planned at all.

He’s sitting criss cross applesauce on the carpet, extremely relaxed as you pass out the cards, the drawing pads, and the dry erase markers. You try to hide the scowl you oh so desperately want to show, but if Clementine sees you upset with him, she’ll definitely feel less safe with him.

You don’t know why you’re defending him, but here you are, attempting to be civil with him just to make sure your sister doesn’t feel as threatened as you do. You try your best not to start any fights with him, either. You’ve heard enough about people calling you a bitch at school. Ever since you broke up with Jimin, you’ve somehow been deemed the psychotic ex by all of your peers, because how could Jimin possibly do anything wrong?

You can’t tell what’s worse: the fact that everyone says you’re a bitch, or the fact that girls come up to you now, asking you for advice on your ex-boyfriend.

Sighing, you watch as Clementine rolls a four and chooses “This Side” of the cards. You internally groan when you look at the yellow side of the card. The glossy square seems to laugh at you, presenting what your subject would be.

How the hell were you supposed to draw “tunnel vision”?

Writing your name and the word on the first page, you mentally prepare for the challenge heading your way.

“Y/N,” Clementine calls for you, “Mine isn’t working…”

Jungkook hands his marker to her before you can, and he’s testing all the other markers in the box to see if they’ll work for him. You look at him accusingly, eyes asking him: “What the hell are you trying to gain?” He shrugs at you, a simple action that tells you:

“Sorry, I’m just a great babysitter.”

He quickly goes back to his own card, copying down the words with his new marker. You return your attention to your pad, figuring out how you were going to draw your word.

“Are you gonna set the timer, Clementine?” Jungkook asks, and she shakes her head.

“We don’t use it,” She responds in a mere whisper, and Jungkook can’t hear her.

“Huh?”

“We don’t use the timer,” You answer for her, “It’s more fun that way. You can take your time.”

He nods, and the three of you flip to the first page so you can start.

You draw—well, attempt to draw—a pair of glasses facing two strange rods. You squint at the doodle, examining it as if you had to guess what the answer was. The only possible answers you’ve come up with are that A.) You’re terrible at drawing, B.) Art is definitely not your future career, and C.) No one is going to be able to figure out your drawing, not even yourself.

“So, Clementine,” Jungkook starts, catching both you and your sister’s attention, “That’s a pretty cool name.”

“Thank you,” She doesn’t look up from her pad, too focused on her drawing.

“Do people call you anything else?” He prompts, going to work on his own pad as well.

“What do you mean?” “Like, nicknames.”

“Oh. My friends call me Tina,” She says, “Y/N calls me Clem, though.”

“That’s dope,” He pops the “p”, and the way his mouth moves is enough to annoy you.

“Yeah,” Is all your sister says, and it’s obvious that both of them are determined in making their drawings look good. You, on the other hand, are already done with your sad chicken scratch of a drawing, and you take the time to watch Clementine as she leans close to her pad, right hand clutching the marker tightly.

Like your dad, Clementine was able to immerse herself in a single task, but unlike him, she was incredibly skilled in multitasking. Sometimes, she’d read a book while having a full conversation with you, and she’d still remember the content of the chapter she was reading. It was a skill that you both envied and admired about her, how she could easily redirect her attention to one task while also still performing the second task flawlessly.

“You done already, Y/N?” Jungkook quirks a brow while he looks up from his drawing. You sneak a glance at your sister, who’s immersed in her drawing, before responding.

“Don’t push it,” You mouth out, folding your hands together on your lap while you wait for the other two to finish. Jungkook flashes an obnoxious smirk your way, and it takes everything in you to not kick him in the balls right now.

“I’m done,” Clementine announces, passing her pad to you. You pass yours to Jungkook, praying that he doesn’t say anything too terrible to you. He then passes his to Clementine, completing the circle.

“W-What?” Jungkook mumbles to himself, biting back a laugh while he examines your drawing. You internally groan. There was no use in hoping that he’d have mercy on you.

In an attempt to block out his bothersome snickering, you try to guess what Clementine’s word was. You feel part of yourself die inside, as you can already tell what she’s drawn. You write the word “deer” on the third page, after looking at the drawing one more time. In the short amount of time Clementine had given herself, her depiction of a deer was scarily accurate.

“Are you guys done?”

She has her pad lying on the coffee table while she drums her fingers on the surface. You nod, while Jungkook has his hand covering his mouth. He shakes his head, still trying to decipher your sad, sad drawing. Instead of making fun of you, he’s actually making an effort to figure out what your word was, eyebrows deeply furrowed while his eyes run across your pad multiple times.

You’d feel bad because you truly don’t have an artistic bone in your body, but seeing him frustrated by your doing slightly amuses you.

Jungkook takes a few seconds before taking a deep sigh and quickly scrawling something on your pad. You can’t tell if you’re excited or dreading what he put down for your word, but that doesn’t matter because now you have to draw Clementine’s guess of what Jungkook’s word is.

A frog?

How come everyone else’s words were so easy? And how are you supposed to remember what a frog looks like?

Biting your lip, you hesitantly put the dry erase marker on the pad. You stop when it makes the initial hit, a small dot appearing on the laminated surface. This is because Jungkook’s leaning over to watch you draw, his hair mere centimeters away from tickling your skin. When you freeze, Jungkook finally moves away, turning to face you.

“You need something?” You ask in an accusatory tone. He shrugs.

“I dunno. You look constipated, so I was curious,” He says, working on a new drawing. It’s another dumb yet excruciatingly annoying jab at you, and you’re baffled at how anyone could think that that was something of use to say.

Clementine giggles, and both you and Jungkook gawk at her in surprise. You feel a sense of betrayal, seeing as your own sister finds someone like Jeon Jungkook humorous. But she’s having fun, so maybe your dignity would have to be something to sacrifice tonight.

And your parents wonder whether or not you’re a good older sister for Clementine, as if you weren’t literally tolerating the person you hate most right now just for her. You steady yourself, being proud of your kindness to him so far. The fact that you’ve actually restrained yourself from knocking Jungkook out in itself is a surprise. You’ll be sure to reward yourself with something later.

You go back to your drawing, working on the small bumps for the eye sockets and the wide almond shape of the frog’s mouth. The frog looks incredibly awkward, its eyes a little too close for your liking. Did frogs have nostrils? Obviously, right? You draw two thin slits on top of its long line of a mouth, hoping that that’s what a frog’s nose looks like. It resembles a frog, and honestly you’re willing to take whatever you can get, so you close the pad, waiting for the other two to finish.

When everyone is done and all of the pads have returned to their respective owners, you get ready to present the devolution of your prompts. Clementine’s eager to go first, which puts a soft smile on your face.

She shows off her deer, and then your correct guess, and then Jungkook’s drawing. Quite frankly, you’re quite amazed at Jungkook’s depiction of the prompt.

There’s a cute deer standing on some grass with a few random flowers around it. Like Clementine’s, it’s quite realistic, keeping in mind of the limited time and resources you’ve all had. Jungkook’s chest swells in pride when the two of you stare at his drawing for a few more seconds, secretly admiring his handiwork.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Clementine’s indirect praises increase his ego but you stay quiet, not willing to say anything too positive around him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Jungkook responds, pointing out how good her deer is.

Jungkook takes his turn to present, and even his frog is amazing. Then, he flips to your drawing, a failed imitation of a frog compared to Jungkook’s accurate one a few seconds ago.

“Tina,” The sudden use of the nickname confuses you. Since when did he think he could be this informal?

“Yeah?”

“Your sister’s not really the creative one in the family,” The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, “Don’t you think?”

Clementine thinks about what to say while Jungkook watches the steam coming out of your ears in pure delight. No matter how good of an artist Jungkook is, or how good of a babysitter he could be, nothing would ever make you want to be acquaintances with him, let alone being just civil with him. What makes matters worse is that Jungkook can easily get away with making infuriating jabs at you since your sister is here with you.

You also try not to think about how Jungkook is getting paid for tormenting you outside of school, because if you dwell on it for far too long, you don’t know what you’d do.

“Y/N doesn’t have to be good at that kinda stuff,” Clementine turns to you happily, “She’s already cool.”

You sheepishly smile back at her, and then she asks you to show your drawing pad now.

“Okay, so,” You clear your throat, “Uh, my word was tunnel vision.”

“...That actually makes sense now,” Jungkook nods, stroking his chin dramatically. He squints at the drawing as if he was in an art gallery.

“This is my drawing,” You flip the page, revealing your chicken scratch from before. Clementine bursts out laughing, and you can’t help but become a little annoyed at her reaction.

“How did you not get that?” She asks Jungkook, and you feel the anger bubble away and instead become replaced with smugness. Your sister still had your back after all.

“Hey!” He points at your drawing, baffled at your sister, “Look at that and tell me that you’d guess it correctly!”

“Um, yeah,” Clementine snickers.

“How?”

“It’s glasses. Vision,” You chime in, “Then those are tunnels. Tunnel vision, right, Clem?”

“Yeah!”

“What?!” Jungkook gawks while you give your sister a triumphant high five.

“What could you have possibly guessed?” You chuckle, turning the page out of curiosity.

Before you can see the word, however, Jungkook forcibly snatches the pad out of your hands. He’s no match to your quick reflexes, though, because you’re pouncing onto him, pinning him to the carpet so you can retrieve your stolen drawing pad.

You’re about to grab it, but then he grins at you, making you stop in your tracks.

Your eyes widen, realizing how you’re in an extremely close vicinity to him, his face inches away from yours. The two of you make unnerving, silent eye contact, each of you staring at each other’s face from time to time. It’s during this that you notice how big his eyes are, resembling Clementine’s drawing of the deer from before. You also notice the mole under his bottom lip and how his lips are naturally tinted a pleasant pink. Jungkook chuckles tauntingly at you and you come back to your senses. You’ve been staring at his lips far longer than you’d like to admit.

“Can’t get your hands off me, huh?” He whispers, winking at you. The pizza you had eaten 20 minutes ago crawls up your throat right away, and you immediately peel yourself off of him. Jungkook still has the pad in his hands, signalling a victory for him.

You cough awkwardly, returning to your seat and wiping away imaginary dust on your lap. You claw at some loose fabric of your sweatpants, balling up the material in your hands. Jungkook sits up as well, nonchalantly fixing his now messy hair. He remains unphased, even though you were literally on top of him a few seconds ago.

“He put Harry Potter and taquitos,” Clementine says, breaking the silence. Jungkook’s eyes shoot up to send her a glare with feigned annoyance, while you end up laughing a bit louder than you’d like to. Then again, anything to relieve the uncomfortable tension would work.

Jungkook’s cheeks are tinted a shy, light pink, while embarrassment is painted all over his face. It’s a lame situation to laugh at, one that you probably would never admit to anyone that you find it humorous, but seeing Jungkook flustered makes you the happiest girl in the world.

The night continues with Clementine bringing out all of the board games your parents bought you over the years. It’s fun yet unbelievably painful, having to cooperate with Jungkook just for the sake of Clementine. When you played Monopoly with them, you were always reluctant to give Jungkook money, even if it was fake. You were also reluctant to receive money from him, even if the action was beneficial for you and not the other way around.

He spends the night still making stupid jabs at you, some of them earning laughs from your sister. You suck it up and deal with it, because this is the happiest you’ve seen Clementine in a long time, so you just strain a smile and move on.

When it’s about 9:45 PM, the three of you stop playing board games since Clementine has to get ready for bed. You come up to her room so that you can say goodnight and tuck her in.

“Today was fun, Y/N,” She giggles while you pull the covers over to her.

“That’s good to hear, Clemmie,” You respond, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Before you shut off her light, Clementine grabs the bottom hem of your shirt.

“Y/N?”

“What’s up?” The scared look in her eyes tells you that you’re gonna have to stay for a little longer, so you sit down on the bed.

“Are mom and dad gonna be okay?”

At first, you’re shocked that Clementine had even noticed, but then again, she’s always been this observant. And she was 12 already. She wasn’t dumb. It was also obvious that the reason why your parents randomly decided to go to dinner tonight was because they were trying to iron out some issues that they’ve been having.

All you do is nod and ruffle her hair playfully. Another smile appears on her face when you kiss her cheek.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” You say, although you’re not so sure yourself.

Recently, you’ve been having trouble sleeping as well. This was because your parents always start fighting whenever they see that Clementine is asleep. You don’t know what exactly they’re arguing about every night, but you’ve assumed that it must be money issues or something along the lines of that. Real adult stuff that they want to keep you two out of, but it’s so hard to ignore when they’re yelling at each other so loudly.

Clementine’s room is closer to the stairs. Of course it’s not a surprise that she’d notice there was something wrong with your parents.

“Do you think I…?” She mumbles out the question, but you don’t need her to finish the rest of it because you’re wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close to you.

“Don’t ever think that,” You say, sighing, “You didn’t do anything, ok? Mom n’ Dad are just fixing things between themselves.”

She nods, hugging you back.

“You should go to sleep,” You pull yourself off of her, placing yet another kiss on her head before tucking her in under the covers, “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Promise?” She sticks out her pinky finger and you chuckle, sticking out yours and looping it around hers.

“I promise.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You say goodnight to her, turning off her lamp and shutting the door. Now that she was attended to, you had to start cleaning up. You walk downstairs to see Jungkook sprawled out over your couch, lazily scrolling through his phone. You wish that the saying “Make yourself at home” never existed, since your parents have an affinity for using it, which in turn forces you to deal with Jungkook laying on your couch like a complete slob.

The first job you assign yourself is to tidy up the living room, and you stack up all of the board games together so you can put it in the random storage closet your house has. Jungkook, of course, doesn’t bat an eye at the fact that you’re cleaning up the house all by yourself.

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. You walk over to the kitchen to have another slice of pizza while Jungkook acts like you don’t exist in your own house. Your stomach grumbles obscenely, even though you had a slice a few hours earlier.

It must be the stress. You do tend to be hungrier when you’re under a lot of stress, and today threw many annoyances your way.

You check your phone and you realize that Hoseok texted you an hour ago.

[October 9, 7:30 PM] Hobi: Y/N i honestly think i’m gonna lose my mind?????????? Y/N? Y/N where tf are u i’m going insane holy shit text me when u get this PLEASE

Right away, your fingers move at the speed of light

[October 9, 10:30 PM] Y/N: omfg hobs you have no idea the shit i just went thru think i got three years taken off of my life anyways sry for the late reply what happened?

The iconic three dots and text bubble show up. You stifle a laugh. Hoseok must’ve been waiting by his phone for your text.

Hobi: i think i may have gotten myself into a date???

Y/N: a WHAT with WHO Hobi: yknow like mymanwhosnotreallymanbutheis yeah him Y/N: ur joking SPILL

You eagerly chew on the cold, stale pizza in your other hand as you wait for Hoseok to tell his whole story. Whether he’d be sending a voice memo or he’d just spam you with a multitude of texts, you never really knew. That’s just how Hoseok was.

But that didn’t really matter, because Hoseok had a date. With the kid he’s liked since the beginning of last year. Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon, coincidentally in Hoseok’s photography class this semester, was easily the smartest person in the whole school. The teachers were more than heartbroken knowing that he’d be graduating this year. The students, more specifically the girls, were also saddened, because Namjoon was also quite attractive. He was tall, kind, and extremely smart, and because of this, he had earned the title as “The Package” by Hoseok. He was everything everyone ever wanted in one person. Accurately put, Kim Namjoon was a full package.

Hobi: ok well like we have a project in photography class where we have to take pics of nature and i wanted to do the flowers bc yknow, easy A and since u couldn’t hang out today >:( Y/N: hey, not my fault my parents think that i’m a terrible sister

Hobi: yeah u have to tell me how that went but anyways i went out to take pics after practice and guess who i saw? namjoon

Y/N: aaaaAAAAAHHHH

Hobi: YEAH and then we were talking and stuff and it turns out that he’s doing flowers too and then he gave me HIS NUMBER Y/N: omfg,,,

Hobi: i k n o w so like i think two hrs ago he texted me and we started talking and stuff and then he was like “yknow there are prettier flowers in the botanical garden downtown” and then he asked if i wanted to hang out next week so i said yeah Y/N: holy shit hobs

Hobi: yeah so it’s not really an official date but i’m counting it as one in my book

You hold back a squeal, though you want to scream at the top of your lungs so badly. You opt to just smiling from ear to ear at your screen as you continue to freak out over text.

Hobi: the only problem is that i have to pretend that i like nature :( but not only that…. like i have to know stuff

Now Hoseok’s begging you for advice on nature, and you mention that you also aren’t the biggest nature lover either. Hoseok tells you he’ll have to do some research on flowers and you think that he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met.

Your brief moment of happiness is rudely interrupted, however, when you suddenly see Jungkook before you, standing across from you at the kitchen island.

“You’re still hungry?” He says, opening the box and grabbing the last slice.

“You’re one to talk,” You scowl, watching him take a bite from his pizza.

Jungkook leans on the island, which in turn causes him to be closer to you, since you’re also leaning on the same surface.

“You don’t really smile a lot, baby,” He teases, wiping off sauce from the corner of his mouth.

So there he was. The Jeon Jungkook you’ve known and hated so dearly. He’s always called you random pet names, simply because he knows how much you despise him. It takes everything in you to hold back the urge to cuss him out. The walls are thin and your sister might wake up.

“Don’t call me that, first off,” You spit, “Second off, why do you care so much?”

“Jus’ makin’ conversation,” His cheeks puff up as he continues to stuff his mouth with food.

“Like I give a shit,” You grumble, looking away from the chewed up food that you can see in his mouth. It’s so unfortunate that Jungkook thinks it’s a good idea to talk while eating.

“Wow, you’re so mean to me,” He takes a large swallow of his food and then pouts, “You’re killin’ me here, babe.”

Despite his seemingly sad words, Jungkook’s giving you a big, toothy grin. He winks at you for the umpteenth time tonight, and you try to think of all the ways to kill someone in silence. Right now, you wish that Clementine was awake, because it’s only around her that he seems to be somewhat decent towards you.

“You have a nice house and nice parents,” He says, more to himself rather than you as his eyes scan the tidy kitchen, “And your sister’s so nice. Why aren’t you?”

“Why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you such a bitch?”

Some would say that 10 PM is too late to have a nonsensical argument with some douchebag quarterback from your grade, but here you are having a ridiculously heated dispute with Jungkook at 10 PM. Again, all of this is happening in your own house.

You roll your eyes at him, and you wonder how you haven’t hurt yourself by the amount of times you’ve done that today.

The two of you eat pizza in angered silence, an uncomfortable situation you never thought you’d ever have in your entire life. Well, you’re a lot angrier than Jungkook, who’s got a smug, satisfied look on his face because he just thinks it’s so much fun to annoy the hell out of you. That makes you even more upset, which causes you to get angry with yourself because you know you shouldn’t let someone get to you like this. It’s a never ending cycle of negativity whenever you’re around him, really.

Soon enough, the faint, muffled sound of the garage opening is heard through the door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. That’s Jungkook’s signal to leave.

Before he leaves, though, he turns to you yet again.

“Thanks for the money,” He winks, “And the free pizza.”

The weekend goes by pretty slowly, but eventually, you end up in the classroom again.

Your school day is pretty much uneventful until you get to 5th hour Pre-Calc.

The busy click, click, click of mechanical pencils and the sound of scribbles from students’ writing are all you can hear after lunch. You follow their leads, hastily scrawling down your own notes on the lines of your notebook on your desk. Once you finally get into the zone of your note taking, you feel Jungkook lean in behind you. He’s so close that you can smell the cologne he uses, and the familiar odor sets off your flight or fight system.

Now that your parents have officially “hired” Jungkook as Clementine’s full-time babysitter, you realize that you’ll be forced to see him more often and have that strong, pungent cologne constantly wafting into your nostrils. You’re certain that you’d lose your sense of smell eventually.

If only Clementine hadn’t continued praising him after he left last Friday. Maybe then your house would actually be a safe haven for you. But no, now Jungkook is allowed to come and go into your house whenever your parents need him. (Again, as if they didn’t have a whole other daughter who was willing to take care of Clementine.)

But that’s another issue to worry about later, because Jungkook’s obnoxiously chomping down on his gum right in your ear. He’s so close that you can practically smell the watermelon flavor from his mouth, and you want to barf.

All you can think is: A.) Who in their right minds would ever actively choose watermelon gum over mint, and B.) Who would think it’s a good idea to chew on their gum so damn loud in the middle of class?

To both of those questions, the answer is Jungkook, plain and clear.

“Do you mind?” You hiss at him as you try to copy what the teacher has written on the chalkboard, “This isn’t a fucking ASMR channel.”

“Slow your roll there, baby,” His words come out in a teasing lilt, the pet name causing you to tighten your grip on your pencil, “First off, mind your business. Second off, I’d be an amazing ASMR youtuber, thank you very much.”

He’s imitating the way you talk to him, which makes your blood boil yet again.

“Well, you’re not giving me any chills.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

His statement causes you to freeze in your seat, mind racing as you try to think of a good comeback. Nothing appears, and you’re sure that if you were in the right headspace, you would’ve already had something good to say.

But you’re still going through heartbreak and the stress of dealing with your parents, so all you can muster to say is:

“You’re disgusting.”

Your words remind you of Friday night, which then makes you want the Earth to cave in under you and swallow you whole. You’re still dumbfounded at how Jungkook was able to come into your house without setting off all of the security systems your parents have installed there.

“Aw, baby girl,” The use of that pet name makes the digested lunch from 20 minutes ago crawl up your throat rapidly, “You really got me there! I’m so hurt, you know that? You’re so mean to me.”

You can’t see him, but you just know that he’s clutching his heart dramatically. Your whole body burns up in flames as you imagine the annoying smile on his face, the way it tugs to the right side a little more because he’s so proud of himself. He can see the steam pouring out of your ears, and all that does is egg him on.

Now he’s poking your back lazily with the end of his pencil, propping his head up on his elbow as he tries his hardest not to laugh.

It takes approximately ten seconds until you snap.

Once the pencil hits your back for the umpteenth time, you reach behind you quickly, snatching it and tugging it forcefully out of his hands. Without thinking, you hold the ends of the pencil between your fists and when your fists shoot up away from each other, the pencil breaks in half cleanly. You’re satisfied with the splintering ends of Jungkook’s pencil while he’s gawking at you, wondering how the hell you could have broken a pencil without any struggle. The smug smile is now on your face, but it quickly fades away when Ms. Lee turns to you and places her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. You make eye contact with her and you immediately straighten up your seat, your breath hitching as you attempt to remain calm under her threatening presence.

You weren’t scared of many things, but Ms. Lee definitely made your skin crawl.

“Miss Y/N?” Her voice booms all the way to your seat in the back of the class, “Would like to share with the class as to why exactly you’re breaking a pencil in the middle of my lesson?”

“No, ma’am,” You quickly respond, your words coming out in a pathetic squeak.

You can feel the mischievous gaze Jungkook has on you, but you pay no attention to it. The teacher grunts, turning her back to the class and resuming her ever so important task of writing important formulas on the chalkboard.

You let out a soft groan and you noticeably slump in your seat, making Jungkookk chuckle.

“Nice save there, Y/N.”

“Fuck off, will you?” You toss the pencil halves back onto his desk, not wanting to have anything to do with any of Jungkook’s property. You made a mental note to wash your hands once class ended so you could rid yourself of whatever pathogens lurked on Jungkook’s pencil.

“Do you always have such a way with words?”

If you were in a private space with Jungkook, where his hands are tied and he couldn’t do anything to hurt you, you’re sure that he would’ve been beaten to a bloody pulp by now. You desperately yearn to have just one day where you can beat his ass.

But you frown, knowing that that day would never come.

“Do you always act like a pretentious dick?”

“Baby girl,” The name returns and you have never wanted to kill someone as much as you’d like to Jeon Jungkook right here, right now, in 5th Hour Pre-Calc with Ms. Lee, “If there’s anything to describe this dick, it’s certainly not pretentious, I’ll have you know that.”

“Wow,” You scoff, “Do you always have such a way with words?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact-“

“Miss Y/N and Mr. Jungkook!” Ms. Lee bellows, “I am teaching a lesson! Would you like to share-“

“No, ma’am!”

You keep your head low, continuing to copy down the notes on the board. Jungkook kicks the back of your seat multiple times throughout class, and the only thing you can think is:

How is this guy allowed to be around little kids?

Usually, when you see someone regularly in your life, your bond with them grows stronger. But with Jeon Jungkook, you’ve learned with each passing day that your hate for him becomes stronger and stronger. And it’s been exactly five weeks. You’ve kept track.

Because now that he’s your sister’s babysitter, he’s become a lot more involved in your life. At least, he’s become involved in Clementine’s life (which ultimately means yours as well).

And as a result, your parents have started going out almost every single night, save for when there’s a football game or when Jungkook is too busy with homework. This meant that he was at your house at least 3 times a week, sometimes even more, because he just loved being with your family and your family just had to feel the same way. Sometimes your parents would even ask him to drive Clementine home from school.

(An issue that would easily be solved if they let you learn how to drive. But apparently that was absolutely preposterous.)

One thing you’ve learned about Jungkook is that he’s scarily good at acting. He’s amazing at being sweet to Clementine, offering to drive her home after school whenever he can and creating inside jokes with her all the time as if he wasn’t planning on ruining your life this whole time. Since he’s such a “good babysitter”, your parents have started having him come over for dinner, and almost every night you had to restrain yourself from starting a food fight with him. He was always polite to your parents, though, making easy conversation with them at the table but never even daring to say a single word to you.

If someone was on the outside looking in, they’d think that Jungkook was a good person. Like a superhero, however, when he was around you, he would take off his disguise and reveal what he really is: a conceited jock who only thought with his dick.

The only possible benefit of him taking care of Clementine is that you have a lot more freedom now. That freedom has turned into occasional hangouts with Hoseok on the weekend. You’d usually use any chance you could get of hanging out with your best friend, but you also didn’t trust the dangerous human being who was constantly in your house, watching her. As a result, you’ve chosen to stay at home with Clementine, babysitting her babysitter. You label it as being a protective older sister.

But as Jungkook annoyingly puts it, with his notorious, cocky grin:

“You really like my company, don’t you, babe?”

He couldn’t be further from the truth.

This is different from tonight, though, because you’re relishing in the overly sweet, artificial taste of the strawberry shake right in front of you. It tastes like relief, like some much needed freedom from your overbearing parents on a Thursday evening.

Today, they took it upon themselves to lecture you about your sleeping schedule, telling you it’s irresponsible to stay up so late. What they don’t get is that you’ve been working on an important paper for your AP Lang class while also helping one of your classmates with their own paper. It strikes you that they don’t realize how much schoolwork your teachers pile on you. And it infuriates you even more that they always jump to the conclusion that you’re a bad kid, even though you’ve constantly had good grades while balancing schoolwork with cheer. That notion’s always gone unnoticed.

Of course, this wasn’t a pretty sight to be seen, your parents arguing with you right before their dinner date, and coincidentally, right as Jungkook stepped into the house. You don’t know what his reaction was, but you presume that he was most likely stunned. The only time you’re ever truly enraged, bluntly saying whatever harsh comments come to your mind, is when your mom starts to belittle you. This was the first time Jungkook’s ever seen you this upset. Or articulate.

It was safe to say that things didn’t end well, you storming up into your room and slamming the door.

And, as expected, you chose to have a much needed diner date with Hoseok tonight. Clementine even encouraged you to go, saying that she’d be fine with Jungkook, but you couldn’t help but still be concerned for her safety.

“Y/N, stop checking your phone,” Hoseok whines, snatching it from you, “What’s got your panties in such a knot?”

You grumble in protest when Hoseok scrolls through your conversation with your little sister over text message.

The music from the old, torn down jukebox fills the diner, and you’re surprised that it still even works. That jukebox has been there ever since your parents were kids. Nonetheless, you enjoy the nice, cheery melodies playing from it. You kick at some random bits of fries on the floor, your beaten red converse still visible under the dark shadows of the table. The diner smells of fried food, a scent that you’ll happily breathe in everyday. There’s an elderly couple sitting at the other end of the diner, waiting for their waitress to bring them their food. The old lady waves to you, and you wave back, flashing a small smile her way.

“Y/N, Tina’s gonna be perfectly fine,” He says, creating a shooing motion with his hand, “It’s not like he’s going to kill her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He literally loves her,” Hoseok takes a bite of his burger, some of the juice from the patty seeping out, “Yesterday he asked me to ask you what type of music Tina liked, Remember? Granted, he was too scared to talk to you. but-”

“Don’t,” You groan, stealing a fry as compensation, “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, I don’t like him either,” He says, “But I’m just sayin’ that you don’t gotta worry so much. Your sister’s 12 already. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And technically, there would be no clear motive for him to do anything wrong because he’s getting paid,” Hoseok takes a fry for himself, “Why would he feel a need to get rid of his only source of income? That’d be ridiculous.”

You sigh, resting your head on the table in defeat. He was right. Even if Jungkook was a douchebag towards you, he wasn’t insane.

“Don’t do that!” Hoseok scolds, flicking your forehead, “Your menu was just on that table!”

“So?” You rub your forehead in a failed attempt to the pain Hoseok has just inflicted onto you.

“You know menus can have 185,000 germs per square centimeter?” He exasperatedly explains, pulling out some hand sanitizer from his backpack, “Or was it only 85,000…? No, I remember it being-“

“Wonder where you got that information,” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows while you cleanse yourself with Hoseok’s hand sanitizer. The tips of Hoseok’s ears turn red in seconds, and you laugh at his misfortune.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” He grumbles, hiding his face in his hands. You giggle, eating so many of Hoseok fries that he decides to order some more for you. That’s how your diner “dates” usually went, you only ordering a shake but then stealing all of Hoseok’s food.

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“He’s adorable, as always, but he’s really… How do I say this?” He pretends to search for the right words before deadpanning, “An absolute fucking idiot.”

“What?” The statement catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your shake.

“He’s so dumb, Y/N,” Hoseok hits his forehead with his palm, “So we’ve been hanging out a lot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me why he can’t get the clue that I want him to actually ask me out?!” He groans, “Like, I’ve been trying to bring up prom, but he doesn’t get from the multiple times that I’ve said that I don’t have a date that I want him to ask me…”

Hoseok angrily chomps down on the last bit of his burger, while you’re still roaring in hysterics about how he finds Namjoon frustratingly adorable.

“I don’t get boys,” He pouts, “I really don’t. And I am one!”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, sipping the rest of the shake in your glass.

The two of you catch up on everything you haven’t been able to share from weeks before, since school can provide only so much time for talking. When spending time with Hoseok, you realize how often you let the little things get to you. You tend to sweat the small stuff so much that you don’t realize all the good things happening to you. It was a nice albeit short break from reality, sitting with Hoseok in your favorite diner with your favorite strawberry shake and some greasy, delicious fries.

Eventually, you end up back at home at 10:30 PM. You come a little bit later than your assigned curfew, but it’s not like your parents would notice. They’d be home even later, since they’re stuck at your grandparents’ house. You snicker to yourself while you unlock the door, imagining the invigorating conversations they’re having over there.

The first thing you’re (begrudgingly) met with is Jungkook sitting on your couch, watching football.

“You’re home late,” He says, eyes glued to the screen. You kick off your shoes, letting them land wherever they want to, and you ignore him. You weren’t about to let anyone, not even Jungkook, ruin the fun night you had. It was too much for you to be constantly miserable.

Then, as if on cue, the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafts into your nose rather pleasantly.

“Did you guys bake?” You ask quietly, taking off your jacket. Jungkook nods.

You walk over to the garage door, where the coat closet is. Putting away your jacket, you smile to yourself. A cookie sounds amazing right now.

Grabbing some milk out of the fridge, you pour yourself a glass and take a second to really take in the beauty of the cookies. They’re perfectly browned at their edges, while their center is a light tan, and there’s a few visible chocolate chunks in all of them. Your mouth waters, despite stuffing yourself with milkshakes and fries. You place three cookies on a plate.

“I’ll be in my room,” You say as you walk up the stairs. You know Jungkook doesn’t care, but it’s been a force of habit ever since you were a kid.

When you reach your room, you quickly open the dormer window so you can sit on the roof.

If you were ever to meet the person who designed this house, you would give them a big hug and ask them to marry you, regardless of their gender. The dormer window and its alcove has been a safe space for you growing up, and you sit on the roof every time you need to clear your mind or if you just needed to treat yourself on an especially rough day.

You swing your legs outside the window, slowly moving near the edge of the sill until you’re comfortable. The brisk night air makes its way into your room, the wind pushing your hair gently in different directions. There’s a soft symphony of crickets chirping, and you take this moment to stare at the night sky.

A handful of stars shine in the pitch black sky, more than you’d see in the city but less than you’d see in the country. You make a silent prayer that one day that you’d be able to experience what a full starry night sky would be like.

Your plate of cookies and glass of milk is placed on the window seat. A cookie finds its way off of the plate, into your hands, and then into your mouth. The first bite is perfect, bits of chocolate and cookie crumbs left on your lips. You lick them eagerly, feeling nothing but euphoric as you take a sip of your milk.

“Never knew Tina could bake,” You hear a low voice behind you. It’s soft, but you still jump when you’re taken out of your cookie-intoxicated trance.

Looking up, you see Jungkook at your door, walking over to you. Your face is stuffed with mashed up cookie bits and some milk, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too tired to care, nonchalantly wiping off your faint milk moustache with the sleeve of your sweater.

“She’s great at it.”

“I know,” He chuckles before pointing to the window cushion, “Mind if I…?”

“If I said that I did mind,” You move your plate and your glass to the side so Jungkook has space, “What would you do?”

“I’d sit down anyways,” He jokes, doing just as he says.

“No point in asking, then.”

An awkward silence befalls the two of you, but that’s how nights with the babysitter went, unnerving pauses constantly appearing as he tries to figure out what to say to annoy you.

In fact, you’ve created a game out of these situations. You try to guess what he’ll tell you this time. Right now, you’re betting that he’ll mention something about your peach fuzz, or that you’re a fattie for having cookies late at night. He’s called you thunder thighs before. You wouldn’t put him past calling you a fattie.

“She talks about you a lot, y’know.”

You’re initially taken aback, but the night is too calming, so now you’re pulling your legs close to your chest, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You have your back turned to him, sitting on the window sill while he’s on the window seat, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You hear him sniffle, “Didn’t know that you liked the Power Rangers so much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You turn around to face him, “That was my childhood.”

“Mine too,” He smiles, one that’s different from his usual smirk, “Favorite ranger?”

“Trini, easily,” You point to the Yellow Ranger plushie laying on your bed, and he chuckles.

“I personally like Zordon the most.”

It’s not something you’d usually laugh at, but Jungkook ends up cracking up at his own joke and somewhere along the way, you find yourself giggling at it as well.

Another silence comes, and you finish the rest of your cookies and milk while he fidgets nervously with his hands. If Jungkook was trying to have a conversation with you right now, he was failing miserably. It’s somewhat interesting to you, seeing him open his mouth to speak, hesitate, and then closing it out of the corner of your eye.

It’s kind of cute, even.

You blink, looking forward. What the hell were you thinking? Was the loneliness really getting to you that quickly?

“Tina made those for you, actually.”

“That’s sweet of her.”

“Yeah, um,” Jungkook scratches the nape of his neck, “She told me more about what happened earlier today.”

“Huh?”

“With your parents.”

“Oh.”

You imagine what Clementine must’ve thought, seeing your parents continue to yell at you for hours on end about your sleeping schedule. She hates seeing her family upset, and that probably made her sad for a while. You hope that she’s sleeping peacefully in her room right now, tucked away into a land of dreams.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, “I’m sorry about that.”

Involuntarily, you let out a scoff. Whether it’s directed towards him or your parents, you’re not sure. You are quite surprised, though. Since when did Jungkook ever apologize for anything? Since when did he ever feel bad?

“No need to be sorry,” You mumble, “Not like you did anything.”

Another silence, this time being accented with some awkward coughing.

“I mean, I think it’s sweet.”

“You think my parents getting on my back about sleep is sweet?”

“No, no, no,” He quickly sputters out, “I mean that your sister cares about you so much. I think that’s really sweet.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” You say, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, “That’s Clementine for ya. Sweet.”

“Like the fruit.”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Did you know her name means ‘mercy’?”

It’s a fact you like to share with anyone willing to hear.

“That’s really cool, actually.”

“Yeah, my mom chose that name because I was too mean when I was younger,” You shake your head at the memory, “She said that we’d need someone more forgiving in the family, so the name stuck.”

“I can imagine that.”

“Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry,” He laughs, and there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, “It’s nice, having dinner with you guys.”

“Dinner’s alright. Shockingly average,” You shrug, drawing out the last two words, “Why do you like it so much?”

“It’s nice to see you and Clementine together, I guess,” He runs a hand through his hair, “Things like that aren’t so simple for me.”

“What’s wrong with your home?” Your tone seems a lot more blunt and judgemental than you intended it to be, but Jungkook isn’t phased. He laughs at your question, even.

“Which one?”

You got the memo.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re not the reason why my parents split,” He says nonchalantly, but then he laughs at himself again, “You know, I have a little brother too. He’s a little bit younger than Tina.”

You turn around and stare at him, and you’re unable to hide the surprise in your face. The position of you constantly craning your neck just to talk to him is uncomfortable, so you sit on the other side of the alcove, pulling your legs to your chest once more.

“What’s his name?”

“Yeonjin.”

“Not trying to be mean, but I always thought you were an only child. You kinda give off the vibe,” You rest your chin on your knees, “How come he’s never with you?”

“I don’t blame you,” He says, “It’s ‘cause he tries to always be with our dad. He also hates my guts, so there’s that, too.”

“...Can I ask why?”

The warm glow of your bedroom light shines on one half of his face, while the dim lighting from outside paints his other half. You take in his appearance, how his hair has gotten messier every time he runs his hands through it, how his soft brown eyes are bouncing around your room, studying each poster and each picture that you have placed on your wall. He takes a sharp breath before speaking.

“I hate my dad,” He scratches his cheek, “Well, not really? I don’t know, it’s confusing.”

“I get that.”

“I caught him cheating on my mom, I think two years ago,” He bites his lip, “And y’know, I told my mom. So they split.”

You nod, listening intently to every word he says.

“Yeon doesn’t know that. I begged them not to tell him,” He says, resting his head on the wall and staring out the window, “So he thinks that I’m why they’re not together.”

It’s during that moment where you realize that you don’t know much about Jungkook outside of the classroom and your home. You try to imagine what he must’ve felt during that moment, seeing his own dad with another woman. Then, you think about what it was like for him to know that his brother still blames him and will continue to blame him for everything.

The conclusion you reach is that you can never truly know the pain that he’s going through.

“You know it’s not your fault, though, right?” You point out, “It’s your dad’s.”

“Yeah, can’t help but feel bad sometimes, y’know?”

“I mean, no shit.”

A few light, sad chuckles emit from both of your lips.

“Well, that was strangely freeing,” He hummed, “I think you’re the second person in our school who knows that now… I don’t really know why I shared that, sorry.”

You look at him. He’s still staring out the window, his Adam’s apple clearly defined since his head is leaning back. His black shirt stretches loosely over his skin, giving you a vague hint of the muscles underneath, and his sweatpants make him look… cuddly, almost. You don’t know why, but somehow he seems as if he’d be so comfortable to hug.

Even if he’s in basic clothing, he still seems to look good.

Your initial reaction to this thought is that it’s wrong, but you’re too tired to protest it. Instead, you’re focused on how shy Jungkook has gotten, how he avoids direct eye contact and slurs his words together, save for the occasional stutters in between his sentences.

“Don’t feel bad, that’s pretty heavy. You gotta let that shit out sometimes.”

“Yeah…” He says, more to himself rather than to you, “Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

“Why’d you and Jimin break up?” His eyes are on yours, and he’s immediately trying to take back his question, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, cause that’s none of my business-“

“You’re good,” You chuckle, “He cheated on me.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, I never knew...” He frowns, “Y’know, everyone thought you were endgame.”

“Me too,” You replied, “But apparently not.”

It isn’t until you feel Jungkook’s hand on your face that you realize you’re crying. He gently wipes away the influx of tears falling from your eyes, not saying anything sarcastic or mean towards you. He’s just… there. Ready and willing to listen. He even shuts the window when he notices you shivering, a shocking contrast from his usual behavior towards you.

It’s the first time anyone other than Hoseok has asked you for the real story. The first time someone that’s not your best friend has actually taken the time to listen to the truth.

“You know that’s not your fault, either, right?”

He’s repeating your words, but for some reason they don’t sound so convincing to you.

“I dunno,” You sniffle, “Feels like it is.”

“Why would it be? He cheated on you. Not the other way around.”

You take a few moments to steady your breathing before you speak. You don’t know why you want to spill your emotions out to Jungkook, but under the moonlight and your bedroom lights, there’s a sense of security in opening up to him.

“This is gonna sound so fucking stupid,” You start, “And you better not tell anyone, or else I’m for sure gonna kill you right when I see you.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve never… done it,” You cringe right when the words come out of your mouth, “I told Jimin that we should wait until we… y’know.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” He states, and you can’t help but be surprised at how understanding he could be.

“You don’t think it’s a little bit weird?”

“Nah,” He replies, “I also think it’s absolutely not a reason to cheat. There’s literally no valid reason in doing that, no matter how unsatisfied you are with your partner.”

“I guess so.”

The fact that Jungkook is getting mad in your stead makes you giggle.

“And plus, it was you. How do you cheat on someone like that?”

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook pauses for a minute, processing what he had just said.

“I mean, if I was Jimin- No, I mean, if I was me,” He gestures to himself, “Which I am, I would never cheat on my partner. It just makes no sense. You already have a whole ass person who likes you. I think I’d be happy enough with that already.”

“Yeah, you’d think so,” You add, and now it’s you taking a few moments before speaking again, “Um, thanks, by the way. For talking with me, and stuff.”

“Oh, no worries,” He smiles at you, “Just kinda wanted to see how you were doing because of earlier. You did look pretty upset before you left the house.”

You smile back, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but the sound of the garage interrupts him, signalling that it’s time for him to leave. He stands up from the alcove and grabs your empty plate and cup to bring downstairs.

“Hey, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”

You both know the answer to the question but Jungkook asks it anyway.

“Yeah, of course,” You can’t seem to wipe off the grin present on your face, “There’s nowhere else I could be.”

If you had to go back in time and tell yourself that eventually Jungkook would start driving you home after school and that you’d actually enjoy his company, you’re certain that your past self you’d slap your future self in the face and say that you were insane.

And maybe the latter was true.

“You’re terrible at singing,” He snickers, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road.

You’d retort and say that he doesn’t know shit and you’re actually an amazing singer, but you’re too preoccupied screaming One Direction lyrics off the top of your lungs. You decide to just jokingly flip him off instead.

The band’s songs hold a close place in your heart, because their music was what brought you and your sister closer. Although you’ve somewhat grown out of their cheesy lyrics about love and youth, you had to admit that their music was extremely catchy.

And apparently Jungkook thought this as well, because he was quietly singing along to each song word for word.

“Didn’t know you were a fan,” You tease, and he’s caught off guard.

“I’m not…”

“I bet you cried when Zayn left.”

He doesn’t look at you, because he’s driving, but the tips of his ears turn bright red, and you roar in hysterics at his reaction.

“You know I very well could’ve just left you at school,” He’s got a smile on his face despite his harsh words.

“Oh, you’d never,” You reply, staring out the window and enjoying the basic scenery around you.

After the one night where Jungkook and you dumped all your emotional baggage on each other, you found yourself looking forward to him being in your company from now on.

At first, you only decided to be nice to him since he knew the fact that you were with Park Jimin—that bombshell of a boy��and you never got it on with him. It’s not something you’re ashamed of, but you know you’d hate it if anyone else knew, because the rumor that you were crazy would just then become truer and truer to them. So you became nicer, gentler with Jungkook. Plus, hearing his story made your heart sadden a little whenever you saw how excited he was to be with Clementine.

And somewhere along the way, between him walking you to your classes and buying a Poptart pack and saving one for you after school every day, you realized that maybe he wasn’t such a bad kid to be around. He seemed to like being with you a lot too, always offering to drive you home when you had practice and when you didn’t, he’d offer to get fast food with you before going home.

Maybe it was the solidarity of experiencing pain, or it very well could just be that you’re one of the only people who knows Jungkook’s secrets and he’s one of the only people who knows about yours. Maybe there’s some pity for each other present, or it’s simply just because the both of you are tired of constantly bickering whenever you’re within a 20 foot-wide radius of each other.

You could spend countless hours trying to draw a conclusion, and you’ve tried to, during the late nights where you can’t sleep where you’re tossing and turning around restlessly. But eventually, you end up falling asleep, always answerless to the paradox you’ve been trying to solve.

Whatever the answer was, you’ve stopped caring about it, because you deemed it useless to keep trying to find it.

“How’s the new routine going?” He asks, desperate to change the topic.

“It’s going, that’s for sure,” You chuckle, “I think we just need a little bit more practice and we’ll be good.”

One thing that you’ve learned about Jungkook after becoming his friend is that he loses his natural vulgarity when you know about his family history.

You noticed this when Hoseok came over to your house one night and Jungkook didn’t call you a demeaning pet name at all during the time being. He also never bothered the two of you, making some small talk with Hoseok before leaving to play Just Dance with your sister. (He bought her that game when he found out that you guys had a Nintendo Switch that you never use).

The first thing Hoseok said to you when the two of you went to your room and you closed the door was:

“Where the hell is Jungkook and what the fuck did you do to him?”

It was a comical night, Hoseok freaking out over the wonderful, ever elusive mysteries named Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook.

Another thing you (and Hoseok) had learned about Jungkook is that, surprisingly enough, his best friend was the Kim Namjoon himself.

This happened that same night, when Jungkook knocked on the door and accidentally overheard Hoseok say his name. Jungkook’s initial reaction was:

“It’s you?!” He almost shrieked in disbelief, “You’re the one Joon has a crush on?!”

His words, of course, came with a shrill: “He has a crush on me?!” from Hoseok.

Through this rude awakening, Hoseok and you learned that Namjoon was the only friend Jungkook had. Apparently, he started tutoring Jungkook when Jungkook was about to fail freshman year. Jungkook said that Namjoon was the only reason as to why he survived his first year of high school, and because of that he never left Namjoon alone. Eventually, they had strangely become the best of buddies.

And being the best of buddies meant that he knew Namjoon’s secrets.

(Safe to say, it was a rough night for both Hoseok and Jungkook but a fun one for you.)

“How’s Seok and Joon?” Jungkook asks, out of the blue, and you can tell the question has been on his mind.

“Hobi’s waiting for Namjoon to make a move.”

“Ha, that’s funny.”

“What?”

“Namjoon’s waiting for him to.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I honestly wish I was,” He chuckles, driving into your subdivision.

“It’s amazing how glaringly obvious the two of them are,” You sigh, “Hoseok made bracelets for him. Tell me that that doesn’t scream: ‘Oh hey, by the way, I like you!’”

“Yeah, Joon has so many pics of him on his Insta, you’d think they’d be dating by now…”

“They’re really, really oblivious.”

“Well,” He shrugs, taking a turn into your driveway, “It happens to the best of us.”

Jungkook walks out of the car, heads over to your door, and as usual he helps you out while reaching for your backpack and your cheer bag so he can carry them for you.

Clementine’s sitting in the kitchen, working diligently on her math homework.

“Tina!” Jungkook sings, setting down your bag on the couch. You walk over with him to her, and she has a bright smile on her face when she sees the two of you together.

“Hi!” She responds, “I’ve got something to tell you guys!”

“What is it?” You ask, sitting next to her and taking a peek at her worksheet. It’s something about fractions.

“I think I have a crush!”

“Holy-“ You stop yourself before you can say anything bad, “Uh, wow, Clem!”

“Yeah, wow…”

You and Jungkook look at each other with somewhat sad eyes. He may not have known her for as long as you have, but he feels the same, strange dull pain that you’re feeling in your chest.

Your little sister isn’t so little anymore.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

Late night conversations with Jungkook at your dormer window have become a regular thing.

It’s the moments where fatigue starts to really hit the two of you that you have the most fun with him. There’s no shame in what you say, and no judgement stemming from one another. During then, it’s just you, Jungkook, the occasional plate of pizza and snacks, and the moon.

“I can’t believe she has a crush already,” You muse, a hint of melancholy in your tone.

“She’s 12, Y/N.”

“That’s still too young, don’t you think?”

“How old were you when you had one?”

“I think,” You pause, sorting out your vague childhood memories, “In Kindergarten, maybe?”

“My point exactly.”

You curse under your breath as you’re obviously defeated. You hate when logic is used against you. Jungkook just laughs, performing his usual habit of rubbing his nose and jerking his head so his hair can stay out of his eyes. Both of you are leaning on either side of the alcove and the window is slightly open so that you can hear the regular music of crickets outside. A light gush of wind blows through, gently shifting around random strands of your hair.

Jungkook’s yet again scrolling through his phone, looking at funny memes on Instagram and sending them to the group chat titled: “Namjoon’s Angels” that he so cleverly named. Your phone buzzes multiple times, and when you turn it on, 4 notifications from the said group chat appear on your screen. They’re all from him. You look at the boy in front of you and he’s got a delighted smile on, eyes crinkled up into crescent moons while he’s so focused on whatever’s on his phone.

“We’re in the same room, Kook,” You say, showing your screen to him, and Jungkook’s a bit surprised at the nickname, but he quickly shoots you a fake glare before going back to his own phone.

“Those aren’t just for you, princess,” He retorts, tapping away on his screen, “Those are for Joon and Hoseok too.”

Your phone buzzes once more, and this time it’s a notification from just Jungkook.

[November 15, 10:40 PM] jeon.jk on Instagram *Sent a post* [November 15, 10:40 PM] jeon.jk on Instagram This one’s for you! :)

Upon opening the chat, you’re met with an obscure picture of-

[November 15, 10:41] y/nnnn_ beans? jeon.jk Beans.

You send him a questioning look, and Jungkook squeakily laughs, almost out of breath by how funny he thinks the picture is.

jeon.jk Do you not like it? I think it’s rather nice.

The most surprising thing you’ve discovered about Jungkook is that he’s quite the articulate texter, which is a weird juxtaposition from his usual character. It’s certainly the strangest thing you’ve known about him.

y/nnnn_ it’s quite off putting jeon.jk :(

“I’m right in front of you,” You declare, turning off your phone and putting it on the cushion. Jungkook rolls his eyes, but nonetheless does the same.

“But that’s no fun.”

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“I like to think I’m pleasant to be around.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. He sticks his tongue out at you before looking out the window.

“Are you going to the football game tomorrow night?”

“Kook.”

“What?”

“I’m on the cheer team…”

“Oh,” His lips form a small, tight circle and then spread into a sheepish smile once he connects the dots, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He starts, “Anyways, did you get invited to the party after?”

“At Taehyung’s?” You ask, and he nods, “I did, yeah.”

“You gonna go?”

You bite your lip, deep in thought over the question. Hoseok got invited too, and he was begging you to go because you hadn’t talked to Namjoon enough, save for whenever he asks you where Hoseok is after school.

While it would be a good idea to come along and really start to get to know your best friend’s crush, you could already tell that it wouldn’t slide with your parents.

“There’d be no one to babysit Clementine,” You reason, “I mean I’d love to, but yeah…”

Jungkook visibly deflates, so much so that he looks like a cartoon character. You suppress a laugh, an apology coming out instead so that you don’t make him feel any worse.

“No, I get it,” He sighs, shoulders slumped down, “It’s no worries then. We’ll still see each other after the game, then, right?”

“If you really want to, sure.”

“I want to.”

You smile at him, and Jungkook mirrors you, a toothy grin flashing your way.

Your favorite moments with your unconventional, newfound friend are during the late nights, because of times like this. Around you and around him, the world is soft and light. There’s a calming simplicity when you’re talking to Jungkook, and your chest constantly feels light and fluttery. His lame jokes become funnier, and your words towards him become kinder.

Even though it’s dark, the nights seem to shed light on who the two of you really are and how you two really feel about each other.

There’s no malice, no ill intentions towards each other either. You like being there with him. Time isn’t an obstacle, which is something you’ve always felt slipped out of your hands like fine sand. The world just comes to a standstill, both of you trying to talk as much as you can before your parents come home.

For you, time has been a nuisance. You lose sleep while you hunched over your desk, working on assignments because the night is the only freetime you have. Because of that (and so that you can peacefully talk to Jungkook whenever he babysits), you simply just do your homework in the morning. Your alone time is always cut short, since you’re swamped with cheer, homework, and family obligations.

You hated how time ran out.

After all, your time with Jimin had run out.

But when you’re sitting on the cushion in your alcove with Jungkook, you slowly but surely start to adjust to the ever changing world around you. Sure, you feel guilty about constantly dumping your emotional baggage to someone you’ve just become friends with after two years of having pure hatred for them, but time and time again he’s always reassured you, telling you that he really didn’t mind you venting to him.

It’s not like Jungkook was your only option, since you always had Hoseok to rant to. But seeing Hoseok happy made you happy, and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a complete pity party.

So yeah, maybe Jungkook was the only option you had. You didn’t really mind either, since Jungkook had his fair share of problems that he’d talk to you about. There was no point in feeling bad at all, actually. There was a fair exchange of listening and venting between both sides.

You did find having an issue to restrain yourself around him. Everytime he spoke about his brother, you just wanted to jump into his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. Even more so when his voice cracked and slowly turned into silent whispers and warbled mumbles. Your heart always broke when he would start blinking more and more so that his tears wouldn't come out. Sometimes, when things really got rough, he’d let a few ones fall, but he always followed it up with forced laughter and a strained smile.

It always made you wonder if he was hiding anything else from you.

“Wait, Y/N,” He says, raising a pointer finger up, “You can go to the party!”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you forget?” He asks, seeing how confused you are, “I’m Tina’s babysitter.”

“I didn’t forget that…?”

“I’m gonna be at the game, cause, y’know, I’m, yeah,” He explains, “Your parents are gonna have to stay at home regardless.”

You stare at him blankly as it registers in your head that there’s nothing stopping you from going to Taehyung’s infamous house parties.

“You’re right,” You mumble, “Sorry, I must be tired.”

“When’d you sleep last night?”

“Yesterday?” You stare up at the ceiling while you try to remember the other night, “4… I think?”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, ashamed.

“What’d I say about sleeping late?” He wags a finger at you, “You’re gonna ruin yourself if you keep doing that.”

“Okay, thanks, mom,” You snicker.

He then changes the topic, now complaining about the very same paper that you stayed up late to work on. You added on to his ranting, speaking your own mind as well.

The conversation is stopped abruptly when you hear knocking. Jungkook and you turn from each other to see your parents standing at the doorway. Neither of you had even heard the garage opening, or your parents walking upstairs.

They’ve got tired, but happy smiles on their faces, and it comforts you knowing that they’re starting to iron out whatever issues they're going through. Your mom waves at you two and you echo her movements.

“Ah, I gotta go, then.”

Jungkook swiftly gets up from the alcove, grabbing his jacket that was resting on your desk chair. He greets you goodbye and then does the same with your parents, your dad walking him to the door. When both of the boys leave, your mom joins you, replacing Jungkook’s spot. She smells of steak and has a faint scent of wine about her. The relaxed, blissful state she’s in tells you that she’s intoxicated right now.

“Glad you had a fun night out,” You say, a soft smile on your lips.

“I quite like Jungkook,” She seems to not have heard your words, “Don’t you?”

“He’s nice, yeah.”

“He reminds me of your dad.”

She’s definitely a lot more drunk than you thought she was.

“Let’s get you in bed, mom,” You chuckle, standing up and helping her, “I think that’s enough for today.”

When you take her to her room and she staggers over to sit in her bed, you say goodnight to her. She responds, and you know very well that she’s most likely going to fall asleep with her dress on. You decide that your dad could handle that.

After getting ready for bed and crawling under your covers, your mind starts to wander, fixated on the idea of Jungkook and your dad being similar.

You can’t find a single distinct comparison between the two of them, but then your mind travels to the topic of your parents when they were younger. When they weren’t dating and they just knew each other as neighbors. Were they nice to each other?

Was there ever a time where they hated each other?

In between the many questions traveling through your mind, you start to enter the deep limbo of being half asleep and half awake. This doesn’t stop your curiosity about your parents story, as you see the two of them in your dreams. A young version of your mom bickering with your dad.

Then, it suddenly flashes to you walking with Jungkook in the hallways of high school, talking and bickering like you usually do.

Despite being heavily sleep deprived, you actually have a good night’s rest for once.

It’s Friday, which meant one thing and one thing only. It’s game day.

And although you complain about how sore your muscles are after practice and how you hate staying after school for so long, but when you’re sitting on the track, listening to the shouts from the student section and watching the football get tossed back and forth between players, you can’t help but be excited for halftime. You even become immersed in the sport, intently watching the boys tackle their way through the field. Half of the time you’re not completely sure about what’s going on, but you definitely were having fun sitting with Hoseok and watching the football teams brawl for a simple leather ball.

You had to admit it. There really was something magical about football games.

It was the way the grass smelt of rain and sweat, the way you could hear nothing but excitement from the crowds of students in the student section, the way that everyone was donning the school’s signature colors of purple and gold. The energy tonight is explosive, and you relish in every single section of it.

Your teammates are focused on the game and on themselves, making sure they remember the routines you have been practicing for months. But you, on the other hand, have separated yourself from the group of girls standing on the track and talking to each other. Instead, your focus is stuck on Jungkook.

Watching him on the field is like magic.

You don’t mean to, but your eyes follow him as he rushes past the opposing team, pushing past everyone effortlessly. He knows exactly when to keep the ball clutched closely to his chest or when to throw it to his fellow teammate, and he defends himself against the opposition, turning his back against them in order to protect himself from their tackles. It’s all like clockwork, like Jungkook could predict the other team’s movements. Even though you’re far from him, you notice the way he scans the field, so much so that you can see the gears turning in his mind. He’s got a whole map of the field and the teams in his head, creating a strategy right on the fly. All to get a touchdown.

Jungkook may be the big-headed goofball who used to enjoy annoying you, but he was a completely different person on the field. He’s someone determined and clever, and he doesn’t show off or become cocky when he’s on the field. Instead, he looks out for his own teammates and becomes a real leader.

You see this when Kim Taehyung, one of the running backs, gets tackled and crashes straight onto the turf, his helmet thudding quite loudly. Before Jungkook grabs the ball in Taehyung’s hands, he gives a quick tap on the running back’s helmet as a simple way of telling him that he’s doing a good job. To tell him to not give up and to get back on his feet. It’s a barely visible gesture that no one in the crowd would notice. It’s basically insignificant to… anyone, really. But you feel your heart soften when you figure out what the gesture meant.

Then you sit up, slightly, because his eyes meet yours and suddenly all the air in your chest has decided to leave. The crease in his eyebrows disappears and he’s beaming at you.

What amazes you is that Jungkook still has the ball secure in his hands, shoving his way through the hordes of players like they’re nothing.

You wonder what it’d be like to see Jungkook running up close. It’s hard to see from this distance, but you can see how the sheen of sweat glosses his skin. There was no doubt that he was muscular and you knew that, because you saw him every single day, but tonight his body is even more defined. They flex as he moves, biceps bulging because he’s clutching onto the ball so tightly.

You’re unaware of the way your thoughts travel to Jungkook being sweaty and hot on the field. Somehow it makes you feel like you’re betraying everything you’ve stood for by thinking like this, but instead of creating an even greater inner conflict between yourself and your conscience, you give up and continue to spectate the game.

(If by the game, you mean Jungkook.)

It isn’t until you decide to give him a small wave that he stumbles. He passes the ball to Kim Seokjin, the receiver, and quickly gets up on his own feet before he can fall on the ground. The opposition’s focus is now moved onto Seokjin, and so is Jungkook’s.

Seokjin reaches the end of the field. He scores a touchdown, and the crowd goes wild. The roaring sounds like music to your ears and you stand up, cheering along with your friends to congratulate your team. You beam when you see Jungkook running alongside the receiver, genuine grins on the boys’ faces. You feel proud, but you’re not entirely sure about what.

“We’re gonna kill it soon, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, and you mirror him, a happy smile on your face as well. He’s also too focused on memorizing the steps in his head to notice that you’ve been drooling over your little sister’s babysitter.

“I mean, duh,” You dramatically flip your hair over your shoulder, making the both of you giggle.

People say that cheerleading is such an outdated sport, but you actually loved it with your entire heart. You’ve created many lasting friendships with the girls (and Hoseok, of course) on your team, and the cheer squad was the exact reason why you had a somewhat reputation at school. It was basically the only thing that kept you going during the 3 years of high school you’ve gone through, and you’re sure that it’ll be the only thing keeping you sane for the rest of your years at this hellhole of a school.

Well, that was a topic for another day.

Because before you can have another existential crisis about the fact that you’re already on your junior year of high school—you haven’t figured out exactly what you want to do with your life—and that time has really slipped you by, the timer on the big, chunky, outdated metal screen ticks down. A bold, orange “0:00” appears, signalling that it’s halftime. The football teams slow down and head back to their respective sides, getting ready to take a break while the cheerleading squad gets ready for action.

When all of the boys are seated at their benches, some of them guzzling water or simply just catching their breath, you, Hoseok, and the rest of the girls make your way onto the turf. The speaker announces your team, staticky voice emitting from the speakers and filling the air.

It’s go time.

You all huddle in a circle, hyping yourselves up with team chants. It’s invigorating, being with all of your friends, getting ready to present the routine you had been trying to perfect for the past few months. You step into the circle, and the girls lift you up, throwing you up in the air. As you’re thrown, you let the force move you, your body twirling around. You land gracefully back into their arms, and the crowd goes wild once again.

The cheerleaders grab their pom poms that are lying on the turf and they get into position. Everyone places their hands on their hips, smiles forming on all of your faces as the crowd simmers down to get ready for the show. A beat starts from the drum line, and you all wave your pom poms in the air, the tinsel-like material sounding almost like rain as they swivel in circular motions. You scan the crowds, looking at all the different students sitting together.

Then your eyes meet, and your face falters.

Park Jimin is sitting in the bleachers, beaming at the Sophomore on the cheer team. You’re rudely reminded of her sitting on his lap in the back of his car, and your eyes become hazy as you try to save face.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Hoseok whispers, “He’s not worth it.”

You nod, averting your focus from Jimin. This was the final football game of the season. You had to make the most of it, and you weren’t going to let him get in the way of it.

The cheer captain starts with a “5, 6, 7, 8,” and the rest of you follow her chants.

The routine starts with a high kick and a right punch up, followed with another high kick and then a strict order of arm positions along with a few more kicks that you all execute with style. Some of the girls move to the front, doing backflips to entertain the crowd. The flyers, bases, and spotters, get ready for extensions while the girls in the front keep the student section preoccupied.

Hoseok is assigned as one of your bases, and two other girls—a base and a back spotter—get into formation along with him. They lift you up carefully, steadying you right away as you're raised up. The other flyers are lifted up, too, and you sigh in relief knowing that everyone did their extensions easily. You flash bright smiles to the crowd and they all scream, cheering you on as well. Your combined shouts add even more energy to what was already an electric game.

The cheer is something cheesy about having more spirit than the other team, and the words are really cringy at points, but you don’t care. You’d shout them to the ends of the earth for all you cared. What mattered was the way the student section responded with almost double the enthusiasm. Kids are hollering, practically jumping out of their seats and yelling as they repeat the school’s signature lyrics. There’s nothing but pure excitement for the game, the football team, and the cheerleaders.

You’re lowered down for a few minutes by the bases only to be thrown up quickly. Keeping your stomach tight and your arms stiff, you fall back into the arms of the cheerleaders underneath you. It’s a perfect execution of a cradle, and you’re practically glowing with pride for your team. It’s obvious that the coaches would praise you all at the next practice. The crowd goes crazy for your team as well. Once you’re placed on the ground, it’s your turn to perform flips and high kicks, and you carry out the rest of the routine effortlessly.

Staring at the crowd, you take in how everyone is smiling at you and your team, impressed at the stunts you all pulled off in such a small time frame. Their eyes are shimmering with pride and you’re certain that their throats have gone raw from all their hoots and hollers. The night sky is painted black, but the atmosphere you’re in is far from dull. The crowds are colored purple and gold, matching your uniform and the football players’ uniforms. There are kids from different cliques, but they’re all sitting together and cheering, showing the solidarity a school could have.

You hold on to the moment for as long as you can, your chest heaving up and down as you pose confidently when the routine is done. Hoseok looks at you with immense pride and you do the same, both of you practically radiating out there on the field.

Eventually, halftime is over and you’re back to sitting on the track. You’re sweaty, but you don’t care. You know you did amazing and that was worth it.

A wave of uneasiness hits your chest when you see the sophomore rush over to her backpack to check her phone. She grins at her screen before running over to your coach, using some lame excuse so she can leave. After that, she rushes out, and you see Jimin following suit.

You plan to see what they’re doing, but Hoseok grabs your wrist, already knowing what you were going to do.

“Y/N,” His voice is stern, “I love you. Don’t.”

“But-“

“It’s not a good idea. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Some of your nerves fade away when Hoseok demands that you’ll get pictures with him, even if both of you are drenched in sweat. He reasons that it’s because you rarely have any pictures with him. But isn’t that the sign of true friendship? Not being able to have pictures because you’re either having too much fun together or the both of you look so ugly you can’t even bear to have a photo taken? You use that reasoning with Hoseok and he simply pinches your cheek, telling you that you’re insufferable and forcing one of your teammates to take your pictures.

When the game is almost done, the sophomore is nowhere to be seen.

You see your coach asking around the other girls, but they all respond with a shrug. Hoseok keeps you distracted by talking about the new friend group you’ve created with him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Then, he starts to talk about Namjoon and the latest “date but not date” that they had last weekend. You realize you’ve never wanted to talk about Namjoon more than ever before.

While he’s gushing, you look at the photos you’ve taken with your best friend. A satisfied smile finds its way on your face when you see that they ended up a million times better than you thought it would. Hoseok also admires them while you swipe through the many new pictures in your camera roll.

“Told you it’d end up good.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You decide that you’d post your favorite ones, since you haven’t put anything new on your Instagram.

You tap on the app, planning to create a draft to post tomorrow. To your surprise, though, a new post from Jimin appears on your timeline. It’s a picture of the girl in his car. She has a bright smile on her face, her cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

Under the picture there’s a blue heart.

You’re reminded of all of the posts he had of you that had the exact same caption. You frown. Blue was your favorite color.

You go to his page, and all of your photos from before are gone. You’re frozen in your spot. Your mouth feels incredibly dry and a hard, rough lump forms in your throat. Your eyes start to sting, and the pain you thought you’ve forgotten about has come back twice as strong.

Hoseok notices this and you hand him his phone.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m gonna,” You wipe your eyes and fan away the moisture so you don’t mess up your mascara, “I’m gonna go home after this.”

“Do whatever you need to,” He says, patting your head so you can rest your head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You text your parents, asking them to drive you home.

The game is slow, dull, and boring, but after such an excruciatingly long wait, it finally ends. Once it’s over, you’re immediately walking out and making your way to your parents car. You ignore all of the students around you, pushing your way through them.

You also ignore Jungkook, who’s been running after you right when the game ends but loses you in the crowd.

When you come home, the car ride with your mom consisting of you breaking down and your mom comforting you, your mom quickly takes you to the bathroom, drawing a warm bath for you. She closes the door so neither Clementine or your dad can see the state you’re in, and she drops in a few drops of lavender into the steamy water. You hastily take off your uniform and your makeup, wanting nothing more than to get in the tub.

Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to feel the warm water soaking your skin. The oil she added to the bath creates a pleasant scent to the steam, and your lips curve upward when you get a whiff of it. You rest your head against the edge of the porcelain surface, eyes getting hazy as the scent of lavender drowns out your senses. Your mother puts her hands through your hair, massaging your head with shampoo.

If your mother was being this gentle, this nice to you, then this was really serious.

When she plants a loving kiss on your forehead, humming sweetly, you feel your lip quiver. You were tired. This was your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore. Warbled, shrill sobs escape from your lips and you’ve lost all notions of self control. Your mom holds you close to her, indifferent to the soap suds and water soaking her shirt.

“Sometimes change is necessary for growth,” She says as you cry everything out.

“It hurts,” Your words come in between gasps.

“I know, darling, I promise you that you’ll find someone who truly deserves your love.”

“...Really?”

“Yes, and, you know, I already know one person who deserves it.”

“Who?”

“You.”

You hang onto every word she says, hoping that they’re actually true.

[November 16, 9:35 PM] Jungkook Hey, is everything okay? I tried talking to you after the game but I couldn’t find you Why is that? You don’t have to tell me, just wanted to know if you were okay I’ll tell Joon you say hi later tonight. He was really excited to hang out with you Sorry, I must be spamming your phone Anyways, just wanna say you did great tonight

Read at: 10:01 PM

[November 19, 4:02] Jungkook You didn’t show up to school today I think this is actually the first time you’ve skipped school Let me know if you need the homework or anything Read at: 4:10

You tap out of the conversation and put your phone face down on your nightstand. Tossing around in the bed, the sheets are uncomfortably hot around your sweaty skin. Your room is humid, since you’ve been doing nothing but lay in your bed for the past 3 days. Your eyelids slowly droop downward while you attempt to remove yourself from the throbbing pain in your head.

A slow, soft creak emits from your door. You open your eyes to see your sister, holding a tray with a cup of water and a grilled cheese sandwich. She still has her school clothes on.

“We ran out of soup,” She says, walking over to you.

You give her a weak smile, shifting over so she can sit next to you.

“Thank you, Clem.”

She sits up straight, expectantly watching you eat. She waits for your reaction, and your lips curve up naturally while you chew, she lets out the breath she’s unconsciously been holding in.

“Are you… doing okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” You nod, and then you roll up the sleeve of your hoodie to flex your bare arm, “Your sister’s strong.”

Clementine giggles and she leans back, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your skin, but you don’t care. The grilled cheese in your mouth tastes absolutely amazing—most likely because you haven’t eaten anything since a bowl of soup yesterday.

“I never…” She starts, but then stops. You reassure her that she can tell you whatever she wants, and with a deep breath, she continues, “I never really… liked him.”

“Hm?”

“Jimin. I never liked him,” Her words lower into a nervous whisper. You wonder how long she’s been holding it in. She looks up at you once more, “Sometimes I could hear when you guys talked on the phone.”

Your initial response is to be angry, but there’s no point to. It wasn’t her fault that your rooms were so close to each other. Clementine scoots down so that she can rest her head on your chest, and you wrap your arms around her.

“He was kinda mean,” She sighs, “And I didn’t like how he talked to you.”

You nod. There was a truth in her words. You imagine what she thought hearing you cry behind a closed door, hearing you freak out because Jimin would end the call on you randomly when you mentioned Hoseok. Thinking back on it, Jimin was quite possessive when the two of you were together. Quite ironic.

“He’s like Gaston.”

“Gaston?”

“Yeah, full of himself,” She spits bitterly, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your sister speak negatively towards someone, “Only likes you ‘cause you’re pretty. Gets mad if you don’t give him something when he’s nice to you.”

Despite her dulled down description of Jimin, her words are a rude awakening for you. It’s as if you were roughly picked up and dropped into a cold, freezing bath, the frigid water creating an abrupt awareness of the reality of your past relationship. The reality was that Jimin was terrible to you, and no matter how many times you tried to label it nicely, tried to dumb it down so you yourself could swallow it easily, the truth is that whatever the two of you had wasn’t love.

It hits you that you really don’t know anything about love.

“You deserve someone better than Jimin.”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, but Clementine cranes her neck and looks at you with burning eyes.

“No, I mean it,” She huffs, “He was terrible-“

“I know, I know, Clem,” You give her a light, reassuring smile, “But we’ll figure that out later, ‘kay? Right now it’s just you and me.”

“Yeah,” She relaxes, resting on you again, “I’d like that.”

You pinch her cheek before speaking again.

“So, you wanna tell me more about the new guy?”

She hides herself in your embrace instantly. Her new crush, Lucas, seemed quite nice from what she tells you.

The rest of your day is spent with Clementine over board games, movies, and cookies, and from how she eagerly spills out everything to you, you realize just how much she’s held from you, afraid to bother you since you “had a lot on her plate”. You secretly promise her that you’d be there for her more, that you’d forever be a shoulder to cry on for her from now on.

It’s almost funny, how a breakup forced you into having a better relationship with your sister.

When the night falls and you’re in Clementine’s room with her, ready to say goodnight, she musters enough courage to say something else to you.

“I like Jungkook.”

“I know, so does everyone,” You reply, suddenly remembering the multiple text messages from him that you’ve ignored.

Would he be upset with you? You decide that you’ll deal with that later.

“I like the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?” You questioningly state, taking the covers and putting it over her body. Even though she’s already 12, you don’t think you’ll ever stop tucking her in. She doesn’t object, either, eagerly accepting your advances and pulling the covers over so only her head pops out.

“He kinda,” She yawns, “He looks at you different.”

“Different?” You chuckle lightly, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

“Yeah,” She slowly closes her eyes, “Like how Dad looks at Mom.”

You freeze in place at her words, but then you quickly shake it off. She was most likely dreaming.

“You must be tired, Clem,” You mumble, “You should sleep.”

“Yeah, I should.”

You leave Clementine so she can sleep peacefully. With the absence of her around you comes the presence of an underlying issue that you never noticed was in your life.

When did Jungkook ever come into the equation?

Returning to your habit of tossing and turning around uncomfortably in your own bed, your mind tackles the notion of what your true feelings are for Jungkook.

Was he a bad person? Certainly not, from what you’ve learned. Were you guys friends? Yes, you were, obviously, from all the conversations you’ve had at your window.

Staring at said window, you imagine Jungkook sitting there, with his wide grin and his tousled, chestnut hair. You can almost smell the scent of his laundry detergent on your nose. His laugh rings in your ears, soft, breathy chuckles sounding almost like a melody to you. You think of all the times he’s walked you to your classes, dropping you off to your room before rushing on over to his own class that was on the other side of the building. He’s never told you, but you know that he’s always late to class because of you. This revealed itself because you’d see Jungkook hastily walking over to the attendance office to get tardy slips for his teacher.

You chuckle at the thought. It never registered in his head that the office was in the hallway of your 6th hour, so whenever he gets a slip you’ll see him pass by your doorway.

An image of Jungkook with Clementine flashes in your mind when you close your eyes. You see him dancing goofily with her to some Spanish song you’re not familiar with, all so that Clementine will be comfortable dancing around him. You take in how he smiles at her, how he looks at her so happily, and how he’s so eager to embarrass himself because he just likes seeing her laugh.

Then, when you close your eyes, you see Jungkook looking at you. His eyes are soft, and there’s something there you can’t really describe. It makes you feel safe, makes you feel like you can put your guard down around him. You notice that whenever your eyes meet his, there’s a bright, warm smile on his face.

A light, fluttery feeling hits your chest, but it’s far too faint for it to be significant, you think. You brush it off as something trivial. Jungkook was your friend, and that was that.

He was nothing more and nothing less, thank you very much.

[November 20, 12:30 AM] Y/N sorry for not texting back haven’t been feeling well i’ll be back tmrw, tho you got time to talk after school tmrw? we could get burgers or something [November 20, 12:31 AM] Jungkook Of course, yeah It’s no worries btw, Y/N Just wanna know you’re okay. I’m driving you I’m guessing? Y/N yeah there’s no one else who will, lol

Going back to school is a little rough, and although you only missed one day, you were already toppled with absent work and new lessons that you had to teach yourself.

But every worry seemed to disappear when you finally got to the diner with Jungkook. During this, you explain everything to him, stuffing your mouth with the fries that you loved so much. Jungkook listens to every single word you say, gnawing down on his bowl of mac n’ cheese.

“That’s so shitty of him.”

You can sense the anger in his tone.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” You shrug, pulling your strawberry smoothie close to you so you can take a sip, “Not my place anymore.”

Jungkook redacts what he was about to say, only nodding as to make sure he doesn’t speak over you.

“Sorry about not responding,” You mumble, and he shakes his head profusely.

“No, no, I get it,” He smiles fondly at you, “Don’t be sorry. I’m here for you, okay?”

It amazes you how understanding he can be. Seems like just yesterday he was chewing gum obnoxiously in your ears, blowing bubbles and popping them in hopes that the sound would destroy your eardrums.

Jungkook fills you in on what you had missed yesterday, already offering to help you if you need any help. The two of you spend the time at the diner talking about anything and everything, and things somewhat feel normal for once.

You wish that everything could stay just like this in the diner, where Jungkook is sitting in front of you, cracking lame jokes left and right and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t even be bothered to breathe anymore.

A few weeks pass, and you’ve slowly started to adjust to the “new normal” of your life. But this was only because you had such amazing friends to help you out whenever you saw Jimin with his new girlfriend. Hoseok has been there for you and always will be, Jungkook constantly has new jokes up his sleeve that he’s constantly waiting to use, and even though you’re not that close with Namjoon just yet, you’ve learned just how kindhearted he is.

This is because when you told him the whole story of you and Jimin, he started sending you pretty flowers every single day. Those were Namjoon’s “cheer up” texts that gave you a soft comfort when you received them.

Slowly but surely, your regular diner dates with Hoseok have turned into full on hangouts with the other two boys. Jungkook would drive you, while Namjoon would take Hoseok. Usually, though, your hangouts would consist of you and Jungkook losing your appetites over how sweet Namjoon and Hoseok are to each other. There wasn’t one time where Jungkook wouldn’t roll his eyes to you when Namjoon would compliment Hoseok’s hair, and you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve lost it over Hoseok pinching Namjoon’s cheek whenever he teases him.

It’s still a complete shocker to the both of you that they’re only friends.

But you honestly wouldn’t change your new friend group for the world. Albeit sort of dysfunctional and unconventional, you all worked together nicely.

Things slowly came together piece by piece, and you felt that maybe your life would continue on peacefully, just how you wanted it to.

However, today is different.

After school, Hoseok asks you if the two of you can hang out one on one, just like before, and of course you agree, because you had to admit that you did miss spending time with just him. So you expect it to be a fun filled Friday afternoon with Hoseok. Maybe you’d hear him rant about Namjoon being clueless for the umpteenth time without ever acknowledging how oblivious he is himself.

What you expect, however, is very different from your reality, because when Hoseok and you walk out of the school building and into the parking lot, you’re met with a pretty sizable crowd. There’s kids, mostly boys, pointing their cameras and you hear multiple shouts and cheers from the crowds.

You’re about to stealthily dodge the crowd and head over to Hoseok’s car, but then a gap forms in between a few students and your jaw hits the ground.

“Fuck you,” Jungkook spits, his familiar voice confirming your suspicions.

The other boys spur him on, yelling out incoherent words that you can’t decipher. You grab Hoseok by the wrist and pull him over to the crowd.

Getting a closer look at the scene, you and Hoseok give each other a scared, concerned glance. Jungkook has Jimin on the pavement, landing multiple brutal punches across his face. Jimin, whose eyes have turned hazy, has blood coming out of his nose, and if Jungkook lands one last punch, Jimin is bound to have a broken nose (if he already didn’t).

It’s a good thing, though, that the principal suddenly appears, pushing past everyone and splitting the two boys up. Jungkook and Jimin are both sitting up now, tattered and beaten down. Jungkook wipes away the blood on his mouth, while Jimin tries to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down heavily. His face is screwed up in agony and you wince upon seeing the newly formed black eye that he’s sporting.

Jungkook doesn’t look any better either. He’s got bruises all over him, and a handful of deep cuts and scrapes from falling on the ground. He has blood on his sweatshirt, and you can’t tell if it’s his or Jimin’s.

The crowd disperses, students not wanting to get involved with the authorities. You and Hoseok stay, however, because Namjoon appears out of nowhere, his arms crossed and a tired look on his face while he assesses the damage. The principal pulls them away by their collars in order to create distance from the three of you standing there. Once there’s a reasonable space between all of you, he begins to mouth them off.

“He made jokes about it but I never thought it’d happen,” He sighs, rubbing his temples, “I got the principle once I saw what was going on. I was too late.”

“What’s gonna happen?” You ask, voice coming out in a weak whisper.

“They’ll both be expelled for a little bit,” Namjoon strokes his chin.

“Expelled?” Hoseok gasps in disbelief, “Don’t you mean suspended?”

“The fight’s on school grounds, and they were both deliberately violent,” Namjoon explains, “If Jungkook had only made a threat to do it, then he’d be suspended. Expulsions last much longer than suspensions, based on what the principal will think is a fit punishment for the kids.”

Leave it to Kim Namjoon to know the school’s rulebook like the back of his hand.

“What’ll happen with sports?”

“Now that, I’m also not entirely sure,” Namjoon answers, and you can see the gears turning in his head, “Let’s hope the coaches will even be willing to talk to them.”

Jungkook makes eye contact with you and although he’s tired, he seems to have sobered up. You stare at him with shocked, disappointed eyes, and he looks down at his feet, like a dog who just got scolded by his owner. He rubs his nose, taking a deep breath and choosing to just listen to what the principal has to say.

What could have possibly compelled Jungkook to beat Jimin into a pulp?

The next night you see Jungkook at your door, the bruises and cuts on his skin somewhat faint, but still apparent.

“Um, hi,” His eyes bounce around from you then to the ground, “Listen, Y/N, I-“

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss at him, coming out of the house and closing the door behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t you realize what you did yesterday?” You say, “Because of that you got fucking expelled!”

“That’s what I was here to talk about,” He explains.

“There was literally no reason for you to do that, Kook.”

“Y/N, if you were there, you’d understand.”

“No, Jungkook, no,” You shake your head, “I get it, Jimin’s an asshole. That doesn’t mean you need to beat him up for it!”

“Y/N,” He sighs, visibly irritated, “If you would just let me tell you why-“

“There’s no point, Jungkook!” You throw your hands up in the air while you yell at him, “You’re expelled! Do you even know if you can play football anymore?”

He bites his tongue, giving you a perfect answer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/N,” He grabs your wrists, forcing you to look at him, “If you had just heard the things he said about you, you’d get it. Please, I just wanted to talk to you and apologize. Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to.”

He’s pitiful before you and you feel your anger rise.

“Y/N, he said such shitty things about you.”

“I don’t give a shit!” You retort, pulling away from him, “I don’t need you beating up people for me, Jungkook. Do you really think I’m that weak?”

His eyes widen and he’s at a loss for words.

“No, Y/N, I never said that,” He reasons, “I just didn’t want him to talk about you like that anymore. You guys aren’t even together anymore. I was fed up.”

“Don’t you think there’s other ways you could handle that? Maybe you could, I don’t know, ignore it?”

“Y/N, please,” He pleads, exasperated, “I know this sounds stupid, but I really couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, I just-“

“Do you really think I’m that helpless?” You scoff, “That I can’t handle when someone speaks of me badly? That you have to do everything for me?”

“No-“

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I couldn’t control my anger.”

“Yeah, that’s apparent,” You deadpan, crossing your arms, “I don’t need you to fight my fights for me, Jungkook. That’s not how it works.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” You spit, “If you had known that, then you wouldn’t have done anything.”

It’s an awkward position to be in, fighting with Jungkook at your front porch in the middle of a cold, December night, but you’re too heated to care. You ignore how you can see your breath come out in a light fog whenever you speak.

There’s a thin covering of snow everywhere, and you’re glad that you consistently wear a hoodie and sweatpants as pajamas in both summer and winter. Some snowflakes are resting on Jungkook’s head, leaving delicate white, sparkling dots in his hair. Matched with his red nose and red ears, you’d almost say he was adorable if you weren’t cussing him out right now.

“Why would you even think that was okay? Why would you do that?”

“Y/N… I…” He sputters out, “I just…”

“You just what? You think I’m so weak that I can’t handle my own problems?” You roll your eyes, “You’re unbelievable, Jungkook. You really think that I’m that weak?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“I did it because I couldn’t stand to hear him talking shit about you.”

“Why couldn’t you? It’s not your issue. It’s mine, and quite frankly-“

“It’s because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” He yells out, then coughs once his confession registers in his head, “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hear him anymore.”

HIs words make your breath catch in your throat. Your heart stops, and Jungkook stares up at you nervously. You step away from, shaking your head profusely.

“No, you’re not,” You breathe out, “You’re really not.”

“I know it’s super wrong to say this now, I just,” He scratches the nape of his neck, “I guess I felt that I needed to tell you.”

“You barely even know me,” You say, and you can’t explain why tears well up in your eyes. You wipe them away, “Go home, Jungkook. It’s late.”

You’re about to go back into the house but Jungkook’s words make you stop dead in your tracks.

“I know that you’re ass at drawing,” He prompts, “You’re also shit at singing, but you do both anyways, because you think it’s fun.”

“Kook-“

“You say that you don’t do much in your freetime, but I know that you spend all of your time hanging out with Tina whenever you can, because you care about her that much,” He states, “I also know that you secretly really like Monopoly, even though you’re fuckin’ clueless on how to play it. Most of the time you go bankrupt, but even then you’re happy playing that. You’re the only person I know who’s like that.”

You’re speechless as Jungkook begins to list off specific details about you that even you don’t know.

“You always try to twirl your pencil in class, but every single time you get embarrassed when you drop it on your desk and everyone looks at you.”

“Jungkook, don’t do this,” You turn around, “Listen, you don’t know what it’d be like to be with me. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Who says that?”

“Me,” You say, “I’m still confused about everything. It’d be bad for both you and me. And plus, what if I’m not over Jimin? You wouldn’t want that. You wouldn’t like being with me.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Because I’m set, Y/N,” Jungkook declares, “From the moment I really got to know you, I figured that I wanted you for the rest of my life. And I’ll wait for you for as long as you need me to.”

“There’s no way you can be so sure.”

“I can feel it, Y/N,” His words are desperate as he tries to reason with you, “It’s different with you. I’m different when I’m with you. I’m happy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do know, Y/N!” He shouts, “I’ve spent so many nights trying to figure out why the fuck I think about you so much until I eventually realized it. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t sure about my own feelings.”

“You’re wrong, Jungkook.”

“Can you stop?” He snaps, “Stop belittling my feelings. Stop acting like you know shit about love, because you don’t. Your only relationship was with an asshole who cheated on you and talks shit about you even though he’s with another girl.”

Jungkook’s right. He’s absolutely right. You’re reflected on it, too. But you can’t help but become enraged when the truth comes out of his mouth.

“I don’t know shit about love?” You laugh bitterly, “Yeah, I don’t. And Jimin was an asshole. But you don’t know anything about love either.”

“At least I know what I deserve and what you deserve,” He says, “If you could just give me a chance to show you-“

“Show me what love is?” You interrupt, “Jungkook, how can you? Your own brother doesn’t even love you!”

You struck a chord, and you see that right when the words come out of your mouth. It’s only during then that you realize that using facts in your arguments aren’t always the best thing. Jungkook gawks at you in disbelief, his mouth ajar.

“I.. Jungkook, I’m really sorry. Stuff like that isn’t your fault,” You open the door and step inside, “I think that just shows we’re not good together. You should go home. It’s late. Goodnight, Jungkook.”

After that night and once Jungkook is done with his (mercifully given) 10 day expulsion, he finds a way to avoid you at all costs at school, going as far as to even switch seats with someone in the one class you have together. Your supposed “long lasting” friend group had ultimately split up, you and Jungkook giving each other the cold shoulder while Hoseok and Namjoon tried to find a good balance of seeing each other and you guys at the same time.

Jungkook no longer drives you home, and there’s now an empty seat at the dinner table that looms heavily on your conscience. Clementine hasn’t said anything, reassuring you that she’s happy just being with you, but you know that she’s having a hard time dealing with the situation as well.

His name is omitted in your house, and no one in your family asks about him.

Well, until now.

Because when your mom sits with you on your bed, asking what really happened, you cry once more in her arms, the guilt finally pushing you past your breaking point again. You tell her everything, and she holds you close, hushing you while you cry.

“Why were you so upset with him?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” You say as you think about it.

“Do you still have feelings for Jimin?”

You reevaluate your sentiments toward Jimin, and what used to be feelings of love and pain have simply withered away into disgust.

“No…? I don’t think so.”

“So what was the real reason?”

“I guess… I guess it’s because he was expelled and that means he could be off the team. He shouldn’t be risking that for me,” The words come out of your mouth almost involuntarily, as if they’ve been waiting to reveal themselves to you, “And the fact that he says that he’s in love with me when he hardly knows me… It was such a stupid fight and I feel terrible.”

You hide your face in your hands, thinking about what you’ve said to the poor boy.

“Are you in love with him?”

Something stirs in your heart, and it scares you.

“I can’t tell anymore.”

“Well, only you know what’s best for you, and you’ll figure it out. We’ll be here every step of the way,” Your mom assures you, “Can I just say one thing, though?”

You nod.

“When two people argue over something that’s considered stupid or trivial,” She starts, “That usually means they actually care about each other the most.”

[December 19, 8:09] Clem Y/N Can you come pick me up from Charlotte’s pls? I wanna go home Y/N why? is everything ok? Clem Please just pick me up I wanna go home I don’t like birthday parties anymore

“Hey, mom,” You rush over to her, showing her your phone. In an instant, you’re driving over to Clementine’s friend’s house. Once you reach the place, you knock on the door, and upon meeting the parents, you say that you need to pick up Clementine for an “urgent reason”.

It isn’t until she closes the car door and your mom starts driving that she breaks down in tears.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately, and once she regains her composure she responds.

“They made me,” She gasps, “They made me tell Lucas that I like him. H-He made fun of me and rejected me in front of everyone.”

You and your mom look at each other with sad, knowing eyes.

Looks like there’d be a warm bath and a lot of tough conversations for Clementine in the near future.

While you mope around and recharge your mental battery during heartbreak, it turns out that Clementine does the exact opposite. She overworks herself in order to distract herself from the fact that she’s devastated.

You take note of this when you come downstairs and you’re hit with the smell of chocolate chip cookies for the sixth time this week. They’re your favorite, but if Clementine bakes any more, you’re bound to get sick of them.

You ignore that and grab a cookie anyway, shoving it into your mouth with delight.

“Do you like it?” Clementine asks, nervous. You nod, and she beams at you.

For something as simple as chocolate chip cookies, Clementine sure does put a lot of pressure on herself to make them perfect.

“Seok’s coming over later tonight,” You attempt to make conversation while she’s already looking through her phone for a new recipe to try.

“Ah, really? That’s great! I miss him,” She smiles, “I actually, um, I have plans today too.”

“Really? With who?”

“Mom already knows,” She says rather quickly, “I’m going out with a friend to dinner.”

Despite your curiosity gnawing away at you, urging you to ask her who this friend is, you stay quiet. This was something she needed, and if your mom was okay with it, then things should be fine.

Leaving the kitchen, you go upstairs to take a nice, long shower.

“Y/N?” You hear Clementine’s muffled voice behind your door.

“It’s open.”

She steps in, and you stare at her in awe. She’s wearing a light blue, off-the-shoulder dress and from the looks of it, your mom has done her makeup beautifully. Her hair is curled, waves gently framing her face. She fidgets with the silver clutch purse in her hands shyly, while she feels your gaze on her.

“Do I, um,” She gulps, “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.”

She gets even shier, sporting a soft smile on her face. While she looks amazing, she still is unsure of herself, standing awkwardly as she tries to get used to wearing such nice clothes. You feel a touch of pain that comes along with the swell of pride in your chest when you see how beautiful your sister is. It’s such a shame, seeing how fast time flies.

“Do you know which shoes would look good with this?” She asks, “I don’t think my sneakers aren’t really ideal.”

“Oh, definitely not,” You tease, getting up from your bed, “We’re almost the same shoe size, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, you can borrow my flats then,” The two of you make your way to the shoe closet, and you crouch down to sort through the piles of dress shoes, “Unless you want heels?”

“Oh, no thank you,” She spews out, and you laugh. Even under all the makeup and fancy dresses you could put Clementine in, you could never change who she really is.

You grab a pair of light beige ballet flats. They’re rounded at the tip and have a black section at the too. There’s a thin, dainty elastic bow on both of them, and when Clementine sees them, she falls in love. Of course, you knew right away that she’d like them. There was no use in having her try on other flats.

“Thank you so much, Y/N!”

“Anytime.”

There’s a bright smile on both of your faces, and your conversation is interrupted when Clementine’s phone ring.

“Oh, I’ve gotta go,” She says, leaning in to press a kiss in your cheek, “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye, Clem. Be safe.”

“I will!”

And with that, she’s out of the door and you’re left by yourself on this frigid Friday evening. You sigh, slouching down into the couch and turning on the TV. You can’t seem to remember a day in your life where you’ve been by yourself like this, both your parents and Clementine off to dinner at some fancy places you don’t know.

For the hundredth time this evening, you check the time.

7:23.

Hoseok would be here any minute, but right now you’re left to your own device.

It’s during then where your thoughts start to travel to the mess of your own life.

You mindlessly watch the cartoons that are playing on your screen while you reflect on your past mistakes. Jungkook continues to flash into your mind and you can’t help but wince every 2 or 3 minutes when you’re rudely reminded of your harsh words towards him. You cover your face in your hands, regretting every single moment of your life up till now. There was nothing that was going to bring back your friendship with Jungkook.

Why did you care so much? You shake your head as you try to sort out the discordant jumble of your emotions. There was no reason to care. You had only really gotten to know Jungkook this year. If someone was able to develop feelings for you that quickly, then certainly they weren’t real. Maybe Jungkook is in love with the idea of you. Or he’s incredibly bored and mistakes feelings of friendship for being in love. That’s usually how things play out.

So why were you bothered so much?

Why did you keep checking your phone to see if he would ever text you? Even now you’re tapping into your conversation with him, waiting to see if he’d type something out. Without thinking, you type a simple “I’m sorry” out. The words glare back at you, asking you why the fuck you haven’t sent them to him yet. You let out a tired sigh and delete them.

Although it’s childish, your mind’s first defense is to tarnish your version of Jungkook’s image. Jeon Jungkook was, in his core, a conceited, good-for-nothing quarterback who cared about no one else except for himself.

You groan, hitting yourself. Every single word in that statement isn’t true.

“What the fuck,” You whine to nobody in particular, curling up into a ball.

Why did Jungkook have to force his way into your life like that? Jungkook with his stupidly soft brown hair and his annoyingly pretty eyes. With his kind smile and laugh that you’d love to record and just hear on repeat for the rest of your days. Jeon Jungkook, the person you’d never expect to be your new best friend, but here he was, just popping up out of nowhere and disappearing without a trace. You curse his name over and over again. Why couldn’t you get his face out of your mind?

His infuriatingly attractive face and his built frame that always makes an appearance, no matter how loose his clothing is. It’s a whole repeat of the other night, where all your senses, all your thoughts, are nothing but him.

You hear his laughter. How it’s so sweet, so soft. You see the way his eyes crinkle up into pretty little crescent moons, how his toothy grin makes yet another appearance into your mind. How his eyes look so endearingly at you, like you could do no wrong in his sight. You think about reaching out to him. Maybe for a hug? You’re not so sure. All you can think about now, though, is how warm his embrace probably is. He’s always gentle with Clementine. There’s no doubt that he’s gentle and kind towards you now, too.

How would he look, laying next to you in bed? How would he look in the morning? Would he have even messier hair? Sleepy eyes? A lazy smile across his lips? Would he—

The doorbell rings, literally saving you from the grave you’re digging yourself. It wakes you up from your thoughts, making you realize that you shouldn’t be thinking of a friend like this.

You run over to the door, and when it’s open, you’re suddenly engulfed in Hoseok’s arms. You almost topple over, Hoseok being quite taller than you and stronger. He’s got a giddy grin on his face, and it looks like he’s just received the best news of his life. You have a confused, although happy smile on your face as well.

“Y/N, I’ve got so much to tell you!”

“Let me go make some popcorn,” You say, excited to hear the good news, “You got the movies, right?”

Hoseok takes off his backpack and pulls out three DVD cases.

“Obviously.”

They’re all cheesy rom-coms that are supposedly targeted towards teenagers, but are made by adults that apparently haven’t talked to a teenager in their life, despite having been one a few years earlier. That makes the movies all the better, though, because Hoseok and you like to take your time to nitpick all of the flaws in every single one. It’s a nice pastime with your best friend.

“Well, let’s get to it then!”

For the first time in forever, you can’t wait to torture yourself by watching shitty chick flicks with Hoseok.

“He did what?”

“He kissed me, Y/N! He kissed me!” Hoseok squeals, and he almost drops the bowl of popcorn on his lap.

The terrible movie is long forgotten.

“In the rain?” You ask, equally as excited, “Holy shit, Hobs, that’s like a movie!”

“I know,” He can’t wipe the grin off his face, “I was so mad at him before, ‘cause like, he just wouldn’t do anything! But then he kissed me out of nowhere!”

He‘s head over heels, dramatically leaning into the couch while pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, an over exaggerated performance of a faint.

“I feel like I’ve been struck by Cupid!”

“I think you’ve been like that a long time ago.”

“Shut up.”

“Just sayin’.”

Hoseok angrily grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it in his mouth, the popcorn squeaking and crunching between his teeth.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

“Well, that’s not so true anymore…”

Your head hangs low, your vision on the screen now on your own bowl of popcorn. You grab a handful for yourself, using the action of chomping as a way to preoccupy yourself from the guilt.

“Hey, listen,” Hoseok wraps an arm around you and you rest on him, “It was in the heat of the moment.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right there,” He chuckles, “But, hey, no one’s perfect. Jungkook was out of line. So were you. Stuff like that happens.”

“Why do I care so much?” You sigh, dejected.

“Because you like him,” He hums, almost nonchalantly.

“W-What?”

“You like Jungkook, Y/N.”

You stay silent, and Hoseok lifts you off of him so he can grab you by the shoulders.

“...Do you seriously not know?” His brows furrow, and you stare at him blankly.

“I think you might be wrong there, bud,” You give him a questioning look.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re an idiot.”

He stands up, and you’re still dumbfounded at his words. Hoseok reaches over to the coffee table and takes your phone. He clicks it on, the brightness causing you to squint. You take a mental note to stop having the brightness setting so high all the time. Once your eyes adjust to the lighting, you’re met with an image of Jungkook standing next to you in the living room, his arm around you while the both of you smile at the camera.

He’s got a tiara on and you have a fairy wand and a scratchy tutu wrapped around your waist, the tight elastic causing your t-shirt to bunch up in thick wrinkles. You involuntarily giggle to yourself when you see the picture. After playing a few board games with Clementine one night, she wanted to go into the attic and dress the two of you up in her old Halloween costumes. Of course, wanting to entertain her, the both of you granted her wishes.

And as if on cue, the smile from ear to ear that you’re sporting has dawned the realization on you.

“We’re just friends…”

“Y/N. I know you. You’ve been a bitch before. Without remorse,” Hoseok sighs, shaking his head.

“Hey!”

“All I’m saying is,” He puts his hands up in surrender, “Y/N, you know how good you are in arguments when you’re angry. You almost never feel bad when you use your words.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad-“

“Y/N,” He asserts, “Remember last year when you cussed that one Freshman out ‘cause he threw a french fry at me?”

“Yeah…”

“You went out of your way to sit down next to him and then proceed to tell him that if he disappeared, no one would notice.”

“I said that?” Your voice has only now become a pathetic little squeak.

“Yes, yes, you did,” He waves his hand after he speaks, “We’re getting off topic. What I’m telling you right now is that you’re blunt. Incredibly blunt. Like, holy shit, how can you say that? type of blunt.”

“I got that, but-“

“Not done,” He shoves the phone in your face even more, as to prove a point, “As we’ve seen before, you forget half of the crap you say. You never feel bad.”

You huff, not sure if you want to hear what Hoseok’s about to say next.

“Look at yourself right now. You’ve been moping over one sentence you’ve said to one boy for how long?” He wags the phone around, further emphasizing the said point, “And now you see one picture of him and you’re giggling like a dumbass.”

You sink back into the couch, the weight of everything hitting you way too strongly, too quickly.

“Well, let’s just say I did like him-“

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Just, just hear me out, okay?” You beg, and Hoseok tosses your phone on the table before slumping down on the couch, “So let’s say I did like him. Don’t you think I would’ve known by now?”

“Holy- Jungkook was right when he said you didn’t know shit,” Hoseok’s so close to losing it and killing you, “Have you seen the way you look at him?”

“No?”

“You’re insufferable,” Hoseok groans, whipping out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He taps on a video and he shows it to you.

On his screen, you’re sitting in the front passenger seat while Jungkook drives, both of you screaming out the songs on the radio from the top of your lungs. It was some cheesy song both of you hated but knew all of the lyrics to. You examine yourself in the video. When you look at Jungkook, there’s—yet again—another bright smile on your face, and there seems to be a twinkle in your eye. You cringe at yourself, hearing your voice and seeing just how wide your smile is, which causes your cheeks to puff up unflatteringly.

A hand reaches to your face when you notice how chubby it is.

“Where and how did you take that?”

“Remember when Joonie’s car broke down and we had to ride with you losers?”

“Oh.”

You think about that day. It was oddly suspicious as to how quiet they were in the car. Usually, Hoseok would’ve been nervously mouthing Namjoon’s ear off by then.

“Need I say more?”

You almost feel betrayed. Betrayed by how blind you’ve been, how stupid you’ve been.

“Well, it’s a lost cause,” You lament, “I fucked everything up. He probably doesn’t care about me anymore.”

“Not exactly.”

Hoseok swipes out of his camera roll and goes into Snapchat. He slides over to the Stories section and taps on one of the small circles. You’re met with yet another truth revealing image.

Took this kiddo out since some meanie broke her heart ;(

The translucent black bar almost laughs while Clementine smiles back at you—or, the camera, at least. She’s wearing the light blue dress from before and her hair has slightly gone flat, but is still quite wavy. There’s a huge plate of spaghetti before her, and she’s holding onto her fork with anticipation.

“If he didn’t care, why would he take the time to take Tina out tonight? He could’ve ignored her reaching out to him.”

While he is extremely right, you’re more focused on the situation itself.

“Why didn’t she tell me it was him taking her to dinner?”

Yet another betrayal tonight.

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause you probably would use those pretty little words of yours towards her.”

“Am I really that scary?”

“Not all of the time,” He says, “But that’s ‘cause Jungkook makes you less high strung.”

“Hey, I’d watch what you’re saying right now-“

Hoseok wraps his arms around you, and he lets out a shaky, forced laugh. You don’t hug him back, but instead you let his embrace cool you down.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyways, more important than you planning out my funeral in your head right now,” He continues, “This is perfect for you.”

“What? The fact that my sister is going out on a date and I’m not is perfect?”

“No, no, you really are clueless, aren’t you? You poor, poor little girl,” He sighs, “This is a perfect opportunity for you to make amends with Wonder Boy tonight!”

“He just cares about Clem, not me, Seok,” You pout, “It’d be nice to, but he probably hates me.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re also wrong!”

Once again, Jung Hoseok is pulling out receipts left and right with the sole purpose of proving you wrong. He goes into his text conversations and taps on a group chat between him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You squint at the title.

“Therapy from Y/N’s Stubborn Ass?”

“Poor kid named it, not me!”

You roll your eyes, scrolling through the conversation. An odd clump of texts from Jungkook shine out to you the most. They’re all from the night of you messing up your friendship with him.

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) I feel like I’m going insane I know I should be mad at her And I’m sure when I think about it properly, I will be But for some reason I don’t?

“Nice name for Namjoon.”

“Shut up and read the fucking texts before I lose it.”

[December 6, 12:55 AM] Joon Bug <3 Maybe you’re just tired, that was a lot to take in Hoseok yeah, but also try not to take it too hard. y/n’s kind of just like that. she thinks before she speaks and she gets way too angry for her own good. even more so if she cares about you.

“No need to call me out like that.”

“Trust me, Y/N, you needed to hear it eventually.”

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) Yeah, you’re right It’s kind of cute, isn’t it?

The rest of the conversation is Jungkook praising you, adoring how “strong” you could be and how cute you were when you got upset. It’s a complete shift in mood from seconds ago, and obviously the reaction you were not expecting. The same fluttery feeling becomes stronger in your chest, so much so that it’s too obvious to ignore. You throw the phone back to Hoseok, not being able to cope with the heaping amounts of new information you’ve received.

“What time do you think they’ll get here?” You murmur.

“Soon enough,” Hoseok sighs again, this time in relief, knowing that you were finally going to listen to him.

You decide to ease some of your nerves by actually watching the movie, pinpointing the many beautiful flaws of the characters and the stories.

“Y/N?” You feel someone shake you, “Y/N? Wake up.”

You croak some incoherent grumbles, rubbing your puffy eyes. You cautiously open one of them, gauging how bright the lights are. Once you’ve adjusted, you blink to see Clementine above you. You sit up from Hoseok, who you’ve been leaning on for the past few hours and who’s still sound asleep.

Who knew criticizing three romance movies back to back would make you so tired?

“Hi, Clem,” You yawn, stretching out your arms, “How was dinner?”

“Great,” She giggles, “I actually have something for you, and you might be mad at me for it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s more of a who, than a what.”

You nod, as Clementine helps you get up from the couch. In your sleep ridden daze, you forget about your urgency to talk to Jungkook and you also don’t recognize that she’s pulling you from your arm and walking you out the door. You only realize it when a brisk wind slaps you harshly in the face, causing your hair to become even more tangled than before.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jungkook on your driveway and Clementine is running back into the house to find refuge in your best friend.

He’s dressed in a simple black suit, a white dress shirt neatly tucked into his pants. The thin, breathable fabric is tight against his skin, further showing just how built he is for his age. The scars and bruises have faded away completely, but you do see a bandage or two when his sleeve rolls up to scratch his nose or fix a piece of hair that’s out of place. His hair is neatly combed into a middle part, some of the hair fanning over his eyes. His hands are now shoved in his pockets, and he’s staring down at you, waiting for you to say something.

Small is probably the best way to describe how you feel when you’re in his presence right now. Underdressed, too, maybe, as you’re only clad in an old hoodie that has the name of a college you’ve never heard of, some thick, baggy sweatpants, and a pair of bunny slippers. Not to mention how messy your hair is and how your face is still puffy from the deep sleep you were in mere minutes ago.

“Um… Hi,” You wince once you hear how scratchy your voice is. This certainly is doing wonders for your image.

“Hey,” He responds, hesitant as well.

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words to say. You plan to confess to him, right here and right now, but another harsh wind hits you, causing you to shiver and clutch your arms around yourself to try to create some warmth for yourself. Immediately, Jungkook takes off his blazer and wraps it around you. He leads you to the trunk of his car, and once it’s open, he helps you get up there so you can sit.

Bless his parents for giving him an SUV.

The car trunk blocks out the outside wind, and Jungkook’s blazer gives you immense warmth. The scent of laundry detergent mixed with faint, pleasant cologne floods your senses, calming you down right away. Jungkook watches as you snuggle yourself in his clothes. His legs hang over the edge of the trunk while you curl up in a ball, leaning on one side of the car.

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, “For being an asshole.”

“It’s no-“

“No, don’t say that. It’s not something you can just brush over so lightly,” You look him dead in the eye while you speak, “I was terrible and I’m really sorry for saying such mean things to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jungkook nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line before licking them. A thin layer of saliva glosses his lips, their color a more vivid shade of pink.

“I’m really sorry, Jungkook,” You repeat, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your voice is clear even though your heart is beating violently against your chest, and even you’re amazed. Hoseok was right when he said that you were good with your words.

Well, up until now.

“Y/N-“

When he says your name, your words ungracefully sputter out of your mouth, displaying just how afraid you are.

“No, I’m, like, really, really sorry,” You feel tears well up in your eyes, but you brave on nonetheless, “I get it if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, and that’s okay, I just-“

“Y/N.”

In a split second, Jungkook’s hands are cupped around your face. He stares into your eyes deeply, fondly, just like he always does. You blink back at him, eyes fluttering while you try to adjust to the proximity. It’s then where you see every single little detail on his face that makes him who he is. The little scar on his cheek, the moles lightly dotted on his skin, and the way his eyes seem doe-like, almost. You take it all in, noticing how your breaths have synchronized, cold fog coming from of both of your lips.

You almost forget how much you like the way he says your name.

“Listen to me,” He whispers, “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“Really?”

“I forgive you.”

The tears you’ve been desperately trying to hold back have somehow found their way out, and Jungkook chuckles while his thumb wipes them away. His touch is gentle on your skin, almost ticklish, and he doesn’t say anything else but just continues to dry the tears falling from your eyes.

“Jungkook,” You sniffle, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

He shrugs, letting out a breathy laugh. It’s music to your ears, just like it’s always been.

“Only to the people I love,” He tilts his head to the side, “Other than that, I’m pretty selfish.”

You giggle as well, putting your hands on his and leaning more into his touch. Your eyelids flutter downwards, as you take the time to just feel him on your skin, to savor this moment for yourself.

“Do you still think I don’t know anything about you, Y/N?”

You open your eyes and look at him, as he expectantly waits for you to answer. For some reason, though, your words catch in your throat. You never seem to be able to speak properly around Jungkook. He sighs, taking your silence as a resounding “yes”.

“Your name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and you’re a junior in high school. You’re on the Monarchs cheer team, and your best friend is named Jung Hoseok,” He says, not taking his hands away from you, “You have a little sister named Clementine, who’s 12. Your mom’s a psychiatrist and your dad is an architect. Even though they’re always busy, they’ve been trying to find ways to spend more time together.”

The routinely symphony of crickets mixed with Jungkook’s voice and the scent of Jungkook constantly wafting into your nose almost makes you faint. The state you’re in is one of complete bliss, complete relaxation as his hands are warm and welcoming against your skin. You’d go to sleep if Jungkook wasn’t professing his love for you for the second time right now.

“You like One Direction, even though a lot of people think that’s cringy. You’re still a big fan of the Power Rangers, and Trini, the Yellow Ranger, is your favorite. You can be incredibly mean and you can say things out of line, but most of the time you just don’t think before speaking,” He smiles at you while he speaks, “Deep down inside I know you’re an incredible softie. And I know that because of how you treat Tina. And, ‘cause you’re a softie ‘round me too, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” You breathe out, a smile forming on your lips as well.

“You used to hate me, because I called you thunder thighs during practice, and rightfully so,” He mumbles the last part, and you giggle.

“Didn’t know you’d remember that.”

“Remembered it ‘cause I can never forget how angry you were that day,” He teases, “Anyways, you used to hate me so much. And I’ll be honest, you had every reason to. I didn’t like you that much either.”

“Ouch.”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“But then I got to know you, got to see how kind and genuine you are around people, even if you don’t see that,” He says, “Sometimes you say terrible things, but under that tough exterior, all you are is just a genuine girl who does her best to make the people she loves happy.”

“You’re hardworking, smart, and extremely funny,” He continues, “In and out, you’re a beautiful person. That’s the Y/N I know, and that’s the Y/N I love and I will be in love with for a long time.”

You sniffle, and Jungkook waits, afraid that you’ll start crying again. When you don’t, he takes a deep breath before talking again.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” He confesses, “Can’t you see?”

You shake your head, reaching out to grab him by the collar. You pull him in and press your lips against him, your whole body being set aflame and your lips telling him everything that you’re dying to say. There’s a faint taste of Jungkook’s watermelon flavored gum on your tongue (If you thought about it hard enough, there was a hint of pasta there as well). His lips are soft and pillowy against yours, and you feel as though you’ve waited for this moment for your entire life.

Who knew it would take your mom, your sister, and Hoseok to make you realize that?

Jungkook smiles against your lips, caressing your face lovingly with his thumbs. Your hand finds a way through his soft brown locks, combing through the strands that fall in between your fingers.

The sky is painted pitch black, save for the bright stars and the moon shining for the two of you, but your world is painted in deep shades of pink. Sure, it may be extremely cold because it is still December after all, but Jungkook’s lips feel warm on yours and that’s all the heat you needed to survive. You could stay like this forever if you could, if your lungs could take it.

However, that isn’t humanly possible, and after what feels like forever, your body reminds you that you still need oxygen to function.

You pull away, hands still in their respective place while the two of you meet eyes, chests moving up and down in sync. Your lips are slightly parted, mimicking Jungkook’s, and a silence falls on the two of you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s peaceful, as your world becomes nothing but Jungkook right at this moment.

“I love you,” both of you say at the same time, and before you know it, you’re laughing. Jungkook’s still stunned at first, but now he’s laughing just because you’re laughing and it’s contagious.

And in this moment, you feel safe.

Sure, you didn’t know a thing about love. You couldn’t even tell left from right at some times. But maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t have to figure everything out right now. Sitting with Jungkook in the trunk of his car, where the stars are beaming down on you and his coat is keeping you warm, is honestly all you need tonight. And maybe you still have some negative feelings you need to resolve from your past relationships. Maybe you had some issues in yourself that you needed to sort out, but that was okay, because Jungkook had his fair share of issues himself. And regardless of all of that, he was ready to risk it all for you. He was willing to learn and grow with you. Jungkook would wait for you as long as it takes. And you don’t need him to reassure you. You didn’t need to worry about it. You didn’t need to worry about anything, you realize.

Because now Jungkook’s walking you back into your house, offering to tuck you into bed and stay with you until you fall asleep, even though you’re 17 and you’re very well aware that you don’t need someone else to keep you company so you can sleep.

That doesn’t mean you’d decline his offer, though, as you lie in bed with him, snuggled up in his arms while he runs his hands through your hair. His dress shirt is scratchy against your skin, but you don’t care. Being with him is enough for you.

“Are you still on the team?” You ask out of the blue, eyelids drooping down while your burning curiosity gets the best of you, “You didn’t get kicked off because of me, did you-“

He peppers your face in kisses.

“Coach and I are close, he gets it,” He mumbles against your skin, “Just gotta do a lot of his chores for the rest of the year and summer. I’ll be okay, Y/N.”

“Okay…”

“That’s not your fault, princess,” He chuckles, “That was mine.”

“Yeah, definitely,” You nuzzle your face in his chest, “Still upset you did that.”

“Oh, I know,” He places yet another kiss on your head, “But for you, I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

And as the two of you fall asleep soundly in each other’s arms, you’re unaware of the loving smiles from your family and Hoseok’s faces when they see you two through the slightly opened door.

Epilogue

A little more than a year has passed. You’ve kept track.

Life has thrown obstacle after obstacle your way, but you’ve overcome all of them so far, and you plan to do so until your last breath. Jungkook was right when he said that you were strong. It’s amazing how you didn’t quite exactly realize this until now.

But this “strength” is long gone today, as you’re sitting on a fancy wooden chair, the soft cushion feeling good under you, in the middle of an Italian restaurant. The chandelier’s are dimly lit, shading your beige surroundings in elegant oranges and creams. You take a deep breath, trying to still your heart that's pounding violently in your chest. Your nerves work against every single word of the pep talk you’ve given yourself this morning, and you steady yourself, fidgeting with the silk, blue fabric of your dress that’s laying across your lap.

You look over to your right, and if you were stressed out, Jungkook was ten times worse, to say the least.

His right leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and he continues to wipe away sweat from his forehead with a napkin, despite the fact that the restaurant is heavily air conditioned. His lips are formed in a tight, miniscule circle, and he’s also trying to steady his breathing, but he fails time and time again, hyperventilating right after. Every few seconds, he’ll pull out his phone and use his camera as a mirror, his fingers fixing the littlest flaw in his hair that his mind seems to create. His left arm is resting on your chair, the feeling of the thick material of his sleeve tickling your skin.

You sigh, watching how much of a nervous wreck he was, despite how amazing he looked in his tux.

“Still can’t believe you took Clem to this place before me,” You quip, and Jungkook is taken out of his trance, a smile falling on his lips once his eyes meet yours, “I think that’s a little unfair, don’t you?”

A miniscule portion of the tension in his body is gone while he’s thinking of what to say, not willing to miss any chance of responding to your jokes with something of equal (if not more) wittiness.

“First come, first serve, princess,” He chuckles, and you roll your eyes at him, punching his chest lightly. Once you’re quiet, he’s back to overthinking.

“Y’know, the fact that you’re more nervous than I am is saying something,” You hum, reaching up to poke his cheek so that he returns to Earth.

“I can’t help it…”

You smirk, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His face flashes up, and he shakes his head at you.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” He sighs, staring at you dreamily. Even now, he becomes head over heels when you kiss him out of the blue. The sight of him having literal heart eyes for you makes you giggle.

“So are you,” You respond, “But, hey, it’ll be okay, I promise. Nothing bad could possibly happen.”

“...Really?”

“Of course, Kook,” You place your hand on his thigh, giving it an affirmative squeeze, “Everything will be fine.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Well,” You click your tongue, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

He nods, most of the stress leaving his head. You take a sigh of relief, seeing how relaxed he’s become. Now he’s cracking jokes about anything and everything, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Jungkook was back to his normal self.

Well, he was until he suddenly froze in his seat while he was in the middle of telling you a funny story during practice. Your focus is turned away from him and you follow his line of vision. You’re met with a waitress leading a middle-aged man and a boy into the seating area. She scans the room and once she sees your table, she gestures over to you two, a bright, pleasant smile on her face.

Jungkook immediately stands up to greet the two of them, thanking the waitress for her assistance. He guides them to the table, and it’s only then where you get a good look at them.

You suppress a laugh. Jungkook definitely had his father’s nose.

So did his little brother, Yeonjin, who was the spitting image of Jungkook when Jungkook was 13. He even has the infamous bowl cut that Jungkook had when he was younger. The boy takes out the earbuds in his ears, unplugs them from his phone, rolls them up in his hand, and places the coiled up earbuds into his pocket of his trousers.

He stares up at you, almost in awe, and so does his dad, who’s looking you up and down. Jungkook’s father acts as if he’s dissecting a subject, taking you apart piece by piece and rearranging you in his mind so as to get a better understanding of your character. It’s times like these where you wish that mind reading was a skill.

Jungkook takes another deep breath. He then gestures to you, and you flash a polite smile to them, reaching out your hand.

“Um, Yeonie,” He clears his throat, “Dad, this is Y/N.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” His father says, a soft smile appearing finally. He shakes your hand. Yeonjin follows his actions, shaking your hand with an obviously lesser amount of strength, but with the same eagerness all the more. You hide the uneasiness in your chest, knowing all that you know about Jungkook’s dad and his brother. And knowing that his dad doesn’t know that you know about him.

Nevertheless, though, you sit down with his other side of the family and make easy conversation with them while all of you look through the menu. Yeonjin points to one dish on the menu to his dad, and then whips out his phone and starts scrolling through social media. He doesn’t say anything, save for a soft chuckle or snicker when he sees a funny post on his phone.

You take a glance at Jungkook, who has become more composed than earlier. You take a few more glances, and Jungkook does the same. When you make eye contact, you give him a bright smile, and he mirrors you. You feel the back of his hand on your thigh, and you put your hand in his. He lets out a sigh, squeezing you and massaging your skin with his thumb. The action brings both of you at peace.

“So, Y/N,” His dad takes a sip of the ice cold water in his glass, “How did you get to know Jungkook?”

This time, Yeonjin actually looks up from his phone to stare at you with curiosity.

You smile at them sheepishly, wondering what exactly to tell them of your wild ride of a story with Jungkook. Maybe you could omit some parts here and there, especially the part about him getting expelled because of you. You’re not even sure if his dad knew that happened to him.

You gulp, and Jungkook squeezes your hand once more. Now it’s him making sure that you return to Earth. Your nerves are still set on fire, though, and you stammer out a few incoherent sounds while you try to find the right things to say.

This was definitely going to be significantly harder than having dinner with his mom.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed!!! it had quite a bunch of cliches but i loved writing them nonetheless. i love you all :)

#fic: my babysitter’s a quarterback #fic: mbaq #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bangtan fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fic #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #bts oneshots #jungkook oneshots

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sazc94 · 4 years ago

Text

The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart

This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.

Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts.

Part 2 Here

Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)

No smut but mentions of sex so 18+

Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship

Words 5659 its Suburban AU.

Winter 2018

You sat on the window seat, head resting on the cool glass a mug of hot chocolate between your hands. Winter in New York was something else, the way everything sparkled in the blanket of snow. This wasn’t your first December in the “Big Apple” but it was your first after moving here. Like the walking cliché you were you had moved here for a Fresh Start, after being offered a once in a lifetime opportunity of working for Tony Stark. You hadn’t planned on taking the job working as head of advertising for Stark Industries. The idea of moving from your small town in Michigan away from your family, everyone you knew and loved, and most importantly away from your best friend and your on-again-off-again boyfriend Bucky seemed ludicrous. You knew James or Bucky as he was to those who knew and loved him would never leave Michigan not if it meant leaving her.

James and you had been friends since, well as since long as you could remember. You had lived on the same street, gone to the same schools, played in the streets on your bikes when you were 8, played in the local park between the ages of 10 and 12. When you both hit 13 everyone assumed you would both either stop being friends or would fall romantically in love. Neither of those happened at least not right away. You two carried on hanging around each-others houses, playing video games and watching movies. Bucky had always been fiercely protective over you, his blue eyes narrowing at anyone who dared to pick on you when you were younger. His eyes would light up when you walked into the room, he loved Friday nights saved just for the pair of you to watch cheesy horror films, lounge around his sofa and stuff your faces with popcorn.

2008

Everything changed when you were 15, you and Bucky had always been inseparable, when no one asked you to combined Prom in your Freshman year, Bucky had surprised you. Showing up at your house dressed in a suit and tie with a white rose corsage, his long brown hair slicked back. You walked downstairs in your ballet slipper pink chiffon dress, your locks twisted into an intricate bun, this was the first time you’d worn heels and you nearly missed the bottom step when you saw Bucky in his Grey Suit stood in your living room. Bucky had tried out for the football team and obviously to no ones’ surprise had become the Star QB. As a result of that Bucky’s grey suit stretched across his muscular frame. Once you’d saved yourself from falling face-first down the last stair you walked over to Bucky grinning like a fool. “Bucky, what, what are you doing here? I thought you were going with Sam and Pietro and the rest of the football team” you said. “Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl flying solo at our first prom now, could I?” Bucky grinned down to you. “Besides the rest of the guys were meeting dates at the dance, so I told them I’d meet them there with you” you felt yourself blush at Bucky’s term of endearment. You and Bucky posed for photos for your Mum and Dad, your Dad trusted Bucky like his own son so there was no awkward father stare down there, you even had your curfew extended to 2 am.

The prom itself was magical, Bucky introduced you to his teammates and their dates. Sam was there with a cheerleader, Jane Foster she was friends with the cool alternative girl Wanda Maximoff who was Pietro’s twin sister they were Sophomores but made you feel welcome at their table. Complimenting your hair and shoes. Pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with them and the rest of the cheerleaders and co to the pumped-up pop songs that blasted out. The way the gym had been transformed was nothing short of breath-taking, led fairy lights strung up in waves from the ceiling, silver stars hanging against the velvet blue backdrops made you believe you were spending the night under the stars. When the music changed to a slow song -Tim McGraw by an up-and-coming artist Taylor Swift. The Group of girls surrounding you soon dissipated to slow dance with their respective others. You started to make your way back to the table you’d been sat at, happy to finally take a breather when you felt someone tug on your wrist. You turned around fully prepared to slap whatever creep had felt it suitable to touch someone they didn’t know but your face softened to find the familiar blue-eyed, muscular brunette smirking at you. “Miss Y/N” may I have this dance?”, he asked. “Why certainly, MR James Buchanan Barnes” you replied chuckling to yourself. Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the use of his full name before pulling you tight towards him. He wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his around your waist. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, you and Bucky had never been this intimate, sure still hugged and had kissed each other on the cheek when you were like 5, but this felt different. The way Bucky enveloped you, the scent of his aftershave mixed with his mum’s washing powder he smelt like cherry blossom mixed with sandalwood. You rested your head on Bucky’s chest, closing your eyes deciding to take this all in. A small smile tugged on your lips as you felt Bucky stroke your hips. You didn’t know it, but he looked at you with such love and adoration and his heart squeezed watching you rest your head on his chest the smile on your pale pink lips. Bucky moved his right hand from your waist and brought it to your cheek, slightly stroking it before lifting your face to look him in the eyes. His eyes shone with affection; his eyes so blue like the ocean you felt like you were drowning in them. Then his lips were on yours crashing against your slightly chapped lips, you cursed yourself for not wearing Chapstick like the cheerleaders and Wanda did. However, as the kiss deepened, and you felt Bucky’s left-hand grip on you together and you melted into the kiss everything else faded away. Bucky drew back and looked at you. Your smile dazzling him as your eyes shone back at him. Neither of you said a word as he pulled you back to his chest whilst the DJ played another slow song.

2009 - 2010

Bucky and you dated from the end of your Freshman year right up until the summer before your senior year. Bucky and you had been inseparable for most of your High School life, he even convinced you to try out for the cheerleading squad in your Junior year, usually you sat on the Side-lines with Wanda and Carol Danvers, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be a cheerleader it's just you were comfortable being “Bucky’s Girl” the one everyone knew without being in the spotlight, however after Wanda and Carol egged you on saying that you had the moves you went for it. You surprisingly made the squad. You couldn’t wait to tell Bucky, warmth spreading through your cheeks at the thought of how he’d be so proud. You decided to keep it quiet until you had your uniform. Jane and the girls had also promised to keep their mouths shut until you’d had the chance to surprise him. So, when homecoming rolled around, and you got your uniform for the first time you went along to the locker rooms where the football team would be heading off to change before the big pep rally. You stood against the wall one foot pressed against it, your knee bent whilst you waited. You heard Sam and Pietro before you saw them. They turned the corner roughhousing one another playfully. “Looking good Y/N” Sam shouted as he clocked you in your brand-new uniform. “looks like Bucky’s personal cheerleader now cheers for us all,” he said walking over to you and enveloping you in a hug. You giggled and at that moment Bucky Turned the corner with Peter Parker a freshman. He couldn’t see your uniform from the way that Sam’s body was covering yours, but he saw your face and started running down the hallway to you. As Sam and Pietro headed inside, he finally got to see the big reveal, he stopped in his tracks for a second. His eyes taking in every inch of your body, the skirt shorter than anything you owned, the top hugging your curves. He ran over to you picking you up and spinning you in the air as you squealed. “I knew you could do it Doll,” he said as he peppered kisses over your head, cheek, and lips. You blushed at his praise. Your Junior year with Bucky was a blur, between the football games, classes, parties’ dates with Bucky you felt like time was rushing past. You Even won Prom King and Queen at your Junior Prom. To no one’s surprise. However, that summer everything changed.

Summer 2010

You were on holiday with your family, visiting your grandparents in Miami. Every year you for as long as you could remember you and your family would spend the last 3 weeks of summer break at your grandparents. You had begged Bucky to come with you as he had in the past, however, due to football camp, he had been unable to swing it. “Hey, I’m sorry doll, it’s just coach said if I didn’t go he wouldn’t consider me for team captain,” he said hugging you from behind as you sat on your porch steps, his chin resting on your head. He had sworn to you that you would text every day and would skype at least once a week for the three weeks you were there. However, after the first week, Bucky’s texts had become less and less frequent. He’d only Skyped you once and you’d get texts from Various friends asking where you were as you weren’t at the latest party. On the final night of your holiday, as you walked along the beach by yourself taking in the last of the holiday feel your phone rang, you looked down it, confused when the caller Id said, Jane. “Hey, babe. Look I’m not sure how to say this” but uh we’re at a small party at Wanda and Pietro’s there’s about 15 of us, including this friend of mine Nat and uhm well, Bucky’s pretty wasted and well after I noticed I hadn’t seen him for a while I went looking for him”. Jane’s voice sounded stressed. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears tried to escape, not liking where this was going. “And uh, oh god I’m really sorry girl, but I, I kind of walked in on them fucking” Jane blurted it out, going for the band-aid approach as if saying it quicker would make it the cut sting any less. You didn’t say anything, you just stood there staring out the black ocean, the warm sand between your toes, feeling your heartbreak. You couldn’t believe it. Your sweet protective Bucky who had beaten up Miles Morales in 8th Grade for standing you up for an arcade date and breaking your heart. “I, I, I got to go my flights early tomorrow. My, my family will be wondering where I am” you stumbled over your words trying to get off the phone as quick as possible not wanting anyone to hear you cry.

Senior year was one of the most painful years, Bucky had met you at your house the day you got back, sitting on the wooden steps to your porch. He looked like he had barely slept, much like you. You were an only child, but your older cousin who was transferring to Michigan State University for his second year had come home with you. He took a look at Bucky and then back at you, you nodded telling him it was fine and that you had this. He walked inside but not before muttering punk under his breath. Bucky winced, he looked at you his blue eyes that once shone with nothing but love and adoration for you, now looked blank, empty, and almost unrecognisable. His brown hair which he had cut in his Sophomore year looked a mess. He started towards you, but you held your arm out.

“Don’t,” you said. He looked crestfallen and his heart shattered as you struggled to hold yourself together. “Doll, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, please, look at me, ill make it up to you, it will never happen again” he pleaded with you, his ocean blue eyes stared at your red brimmed eyes, cheeks puffy and streaked from all the crying over the last 16 hours. “Just don’t” You warned him. “Look, baby, it was a mistake, it meant nothing to me” he continued to plead despite your warning reaching out for your hand. His words hit you like a knife, you two hadn’t slept together yet and here he was claiming this meant nothing. You wrenched your hand free from him his touch burning you with his betrayal. “It meant nothing. It meant nothing!?! If it meant nothing you wouldn’t have slept with this Natasha James” you whispered. Bucky flinched at the use of his real name. Oh, how you wanted to shout, thrash scream at him and tell him you would forgive him, but you couldn’t. You had looked up the girls Instagram that night when you laid in bed crying and you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her the gorgeous read head with curves in all the right places. You started to walk towards your house. Unable to keep the tears back and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, Bucky called out for you, pleading with you. “I thought you loved me James, but it clearly meant something to you, or else you wouldn’t have thrown away two years of dating and 12 years of dating for sex with someone that wasn’t me, we were meant to be each other’s firsts, but you decided you couldn’t wait to get your dick wet so you went and fucked this chick you’ve known for what 5 minutes?” you cried out in anger, Bucky flinched again as if you’d slapped him. “Actually, I met her last year at one of our away game parties” he mumbled, his feet kicking the dirt around his feet. “I think you should leave” you whispered, choking back a sob before you ran into your house slamming the door behind you.

You and Bucky barely spoke that entire final year of school, you had been voted cheer Captain at the end of the summer semester, much to Jane’s approval, and you loved being a cheerleader, so you threw yourself into that as well as the school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. You cheered at the games putting on your show face and hyping up the crowds. You wowed in the role of Audrey in the show, avoided parties with the football team and buckled down focusing on your exams and audition for the performing arts programme at the University of Michigan. After Bucky had realised, he was never going to get you to forgive him he had ended up dating Natasha. The news hit you like a sucker punch to begin with but after meeting up with Wanda, Carol, and Jane during the spring break you made your peace with it. You even smiled at Bucky in the hallways when you saw each other. By the time Graduation rolled around you had healed.

November 2011

You ended up getting into the University of Michigan on a partial scholarship thanks to your cheerleading and you were enjoying the performing arts programme, the performing arts programme at the Uni had really blown up after the whole viral “A Very Potter Musical” back in 2009 and you were thrilled to be there. You had settled right in making friends with a young lad from your course Loki Laufeyson right away. He was attractive in an unconventional way, with long black hair, a tall skinny frame but he still had muscles. You two had been cast opposite each other in Romeo and Juliet during your first year and had become good friends. You even ran into Pietro frequently he had gotten a football scholarship and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you on the sidelines one November game. Pietro didn’t really “do” social media and hadn’t paid any attention to Wanda as you had told her, after Bucky’s betrayal you hadn’t spoken much with Sam or Pietro, after all, they were his friends and were now Uni students. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Bucky’s girl,” he said grinning at you after the game, ruffling your hair like you were 5 again. You couldn’t help but wince at the old pet name, everyone in the group had called you it, Sam, Wanda, Carol even Jane but you hadn’t been Bucky’s girl for a year, well longer if you take into consideration the fact he’d been chatting with Natasha on and off for the entire year before they slept together. “It’s just Y/N” or you can call me cutie you said winking at Pietro, he chuckled. “How about I just call you tomorrow?” he retorted, you felt yourself blush. Pietro had always been a cocky confident guy, his silver-blonde hair covering his ice blue eyes, he had always been a hit with the ladies, but he seemed that bit more attractive, slightly leaner, still confident but not arrogant. You shrugged before pulling out a sharpie from your bag, you wrote down your number on his arm. He cocked his head puzzled. “I changed it last year after Bucky wouldn’t stop blowing it up with apology texts,” you said simply. Before Pietro could respond you ran off to join the rest of your squad and headed for the changing room.

True to his charm and word, Pietro called you the next day offering to be your personal guide and show you all the hidden beauty spots of the campus. You accepted; even though you had been here for two months already. You walked around the campus and had a great time, you felt yourself really relaxing and laughing at his corny jokes and the way he wiggled his silver eyebrows at you whenever he made a bad joke. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed, and you meant really laughed, the kind of clutched over struggling to get air into your lung’s laughter that the Silver-haired, blue-eyed cutie gave you. By the time Pietro had finished his tour the sun was beginning to dip, he walked you back to your dorm ever the gentleman. However, this time when your hands brushed against each other he grabbed your hand and spun you around. His hand was cool and smooth, a stark difference to Bucky’s warm calloused hands. The pair of you walked back hand in hand in comfortable silence. When you got to your dorm you leant against your door, your eyes meeting Pietro’s ice blue eyes, the almost sparkled. Pietro positioned himself so that he had one hand above your head, the other to your side trapping you between the door and himself. He leant down and kissed you. It was soft and delicate, his cool lips sucking the air out of your lungs. He pulled away winking at you before he sauntered off to join his teammates at some frat party.

That was the beginning of a three-year relationship with Pietro, you two had been on multiple dates, some official, some were just bumping into each other at the same party and then spending the rest of the evening together all through November and early December of your first year. He even came to support you at your Cheerleading competitions. Neither of you had put a label on it, but he had changed his home screen to a picture of the pair of you, it was one captured by Peter Parker, funnily enough, he was visiting the Uni with his photography club and captured the moment Pietro had picked you up after the Wolverines won their 6th game. He spun you around before dropping you down and kissing your forehead. Pietro didn’t know that you had seen his home screen. However as you were both travelling home for the Holidays you had agreed to travel together, Pietro had offered to drive but you had refused. Telling him that it would be easier for you to drive as you would be running lines late and therefore you could swing by his apartment on the way out of town. It was only a short drive to Dearborn but with the extra holiday traffic, you estimated it would take at least an hour to get to your parents. You connected your iPod to the car via AUX and pulled up your playlist you had made for the drive. You avoided all Christmas songs, and you were sick of them they played everywhere you went. Instead, you opted for Taylor Swift, damn she had blown up since 2008.

After about 30 minutes of driving as you hit the peak of the holiday traffic, you leant over to turn down the volume of your music. Comfortable with the pace of the traffic, you turned your head to Pietro. “So,” you began. “What’s up Bunny?” Pietro asked snapping his eyes up from his phone. “Well, I just thought now might be a good time to talk, we’re obviously going to run into a lot of our old friends, and there’s no way Wanda won’t know something is going on here, and I, I saw your lock screen,” you said, you could feel yourself blush, there was something about Pietro, he made you feel like a high school sophomore all over again. “So you were wondering what we are?” the amusement in Pietro’s voice didn’t escape your notice, you could feel yourself getting embarrassed. Of course, he was a college Sophomore, you two had never had the exclusive talk, how could you be so silly. You stared straight ahead focusing on the slow-moving traffic. Oh god, you wanted to die. Pietro noticed the change in your demeanour and instantly felt bad, he grabbed your right hand from the steering wheel. “Hey Bunny, look at me,” he said softly, you turned your head to face him. “We are exclusive, we are a couple, I’m sorry you felt the need to ask, but I adore you, so we are a thing,” he said stroking circles on the back of your hand. You smiled and nodded to yourself.

Almost everyone had made it back for the Holidays, excluding a few people, Bucky, Carol, and Jane, they all had their reasons, but you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that Carol and Jane had been unable to make it back. Wanda was elated for you and Pietro, to your surprise she threatened Pietro and not you. Christmas break came and went all too quickly. Pietro even brought you a small gift even though he didn’t celebrate Christmas, what with being Jewish. He was also very touched at your gift a small, framed copy of the photo of his lock screen, only in black and white except for the ribbon in your hair, the number on his Jersey matching his number painted on your cheek. The next year also seemed to rush by, between keeping on top of your studies, your rehearsals for the play, football matches, nationals for your cheerleading competition. It felt like you had barely any time to breathe.

2012

The summer between your 1st year and 2nd year was a small respite, Pietro had decided to stay in his apartment for the summer, he had a summer job and you decided to stick around after trying out for a local theatres summer production of Grease, unsurprisingly you had been cast as Patty Simcox a cheerleader. “How ironic, my little cheerleader playing a cheerleader” Pietro joked. You just rolled your eyes at him, that night Pietro stayed in your dorm, you were going to have to move out for the summer, your roommate for the year had decided she was going to move into her Sorority House next year and was going home for the summer. You and Pietro were cuddled up on the sofa watching Grease, you had your legs over Pietro and the arm of the sofa. To your surprise, Pietro had confessed he’d never seen it and had asked you to watch it with him so he could see who you would be playing. You let out a sigh. “What’s up bunny?” he asked not taking his eyes of the movie, he was rubbing small circles on your legs. “Student housing emailed me today, they said since Sophie is moving out and going home for the summer. I can’t stay in my dorm this summer. I’m trying to figure out where to go as the apartment I want to rent isn’t available until August” you said, blowing your hair out of your face. “Move in with me for the summer,” Pietro said without skipping a beat. “We’re not going to be around much in the daytime, you’ve spent a lot of nights at mine recently and it’s just for the summer, theirs a spare bedroom where you can store your stuff, and Wanda will be visiting in 3 weeks, it’s no big deal,” he said as he continued rubbing circles on your legs. You stared at him for a moment, your mind racing. “Okay,” you said nervously biting your lip. “Okay, I’ll move in for the summer,” you said again this time sounding surer of yourself. You picked up the remote and pressed pause on the DVD. You and Pietro had been dating for most of the school year, and he had been nothing but a gentleman never pressuring you for more than you were comfortable with, he knew Bucky had hurt you and you still hadn’t had sex yet as a result of it. You stood up a peeled of your jumper, Pietro cocked his head with his cute, puzzled expression. You didn’t say anything, instead, you removed your athletic shorts leaving you in nothing but one of Pietro’s football jerseys and your panties. You walked to your bedroom. Pietro didn’t move. After a few moments of waiting for him to follow you walked to your door frame and coughed, Pietro looked at you. “Well, are you coming or not handsome?” you asked leaning against your frame, so his jersey rid up slightly exposing the skin of your stomach. Pietro chucked his phone on the sofa before throwing you over his shoulder. That night you and Pietro had sex for the first time.

December 2012

Summer came and went in a blur of a heatwave, and lots of sex. You moved into your apartment off-campus, you spent a lot of time hanging out with Loki between classes, throwing ideas back and forth for an original piece you had to work on for the spring showcase. Pietro and you would always ride to games together, with Pietro being in his third year, the team bus rides were no longer compulsory and as the college couldn’t afford for the squad to have a bus you had to make your own way to the away games anyway. You and Pietro had driven home for Winter break, your family had decided to head to Boston this year, that way your cousin could see his family, however as you and Pietro had a game two days after New Years it didn’t make sense for you to fly out for such a short period off time. This was your first Christmas in years where you wouldn’t be seeing your family, or even celebrating really. However, Wanda and her Mum had insisted Pietro bring you home with him for the winter break. So that was how you found yourself sat in Pietro and Wanda’s basement drinking beer and hanging out with the old gang along with some new faces. Carol had brought home her girlfriend Valkyrie, Jane and Sam were there, even Peter Parker who was now a senior was there he’d even brought his girlfriend Gwen with him. Wanda had brought home her Boyfriend James or Vision as he was affectionately known. Wanda was studying Fashion in NYC; Vision was studying IT and was a whiz with technology. You were cuddled up in the corner of the sofa with Pietro, he was playing some game with Sam and Peter and you were scrolling through your IG feed. Taylor Swift’s latest Album Red playing through the speakers. Pietro had groaned but with Sam being a secret Swifty he was quickly outvoted. You kissed Pietro’s cheek getting up to grab another bottle of beer each. You were technically underage for another few months, but Wanda’s mum had said if you were going to drink whilst you were here, she’d rather you did it under her roof in a safe controlled manner.

You heard him before you saw him. Being the gracious guest you are, you had noticed the beer was low in the fridge, so you were restocking it when you heard Bucky’s familiar laugh. You may have made peace with what Bucky had done but other than a quick congratulations and farewell at Graduation you hadn’t spoken since that summer back in 2010.

Bucky walked over to the fridge, you had changed your hair colour since you’d last seen him at Graduation in 2011, your usual hair was now a chocolate brown, you had your head in the fridge still when he coughed. “Hi I’m Bucky,” he said. You took a deep breath, grabbed three bottles of beer and pulled your head out of the fridge, turning around to face him. “I’m well aware who you are, Bucky,” you said handing him a beer. Bucky’s eyes widened as his ocean blue eyes reached yours. “Hey Buck,” you said softly. “Y/N. I didn’t recognise you” he grinned, moving to hug you. You let it happen, standing stiffly in his arms. “Yeah it's been a minute, how’s school, and Natasha, I heard you got into UDM?” you asked shooting him a smile before twisting the lid of your bottle. “Yeah, I did. Schools great kicking my ass a bit and Natasha and I broke up actually” he said avoiding eye contact with you. You and Bucky made polite conversation for a few minutes Pietro finished up his game with Sam and Peter, noticed you hadn’t returned so made his way over to you and Bucky. “Hey Bunny,” he said kissing the corner of your head before wrapping his arms around you. “Hey Buck, long time no see!” Pietro said. Bucky stood frozen for a few seconds processing what he had just witnessed. “Hey, Pietro Yeah. It's been a hot minute, so you two are a couple? You guys look cute congrats. Oh man, wow is that Peter over there? I barely recognise him I’m going to go say hey. Catch you guys later!” Bucky said practically running over to Peter. You turned around and kissed Pietro. “Come on Quicksilver, let’s see if I can beat you at Mario Kart,” you said pulling him over to the sofa.

December 2012 – August 2014

Winter break came and went. Your second year at Uni whizzed past. Pietro even joined you and your family for your annual summer vacation in Miami, your grandparents were getting on a bit so you decided to skip the summer production of Hairspray. By the time, your third year rolled around you and Pietro settled into a routine between school, studying, games and rehearsals you would steal kisses in the hallways, meet one another at classes with hot drinks, coffee for Pietro not that he needed a boost of energy and usually a hot chocolate for you. After football games, Pietro would drive you back to his apartment. If it were a rare free evening, you’d curl up with a movie at yours. Hanging onto the small moments of peace. You both knew Pietro was going to be moving to New York after he graduated. He’d been studying business and was going to start a fashion company with Wanda. You also both knew that long-distance wasn’t going to work, you’d been majoring in performing arts, but you had also been taking extra courses to help with a career in advertising as a backup. Saying your goodbyes to one another sucked ass. You and Pietro had left your annual Miami holiday a week early to spend a week in Florida visiting the Theme Parks, Wanda and Vision were also going to meet you there. Neither of you had grown up exceptionally wealthy, but Wanda and Pietro’s dad Max Eisenhardt had reached out to them a few years back and had insisted on paying for the four of you to have a group vacation. He had tried to convince Wanda and Pietro to book a holiday in Germany where he was living but they had refused. Pietro had already packed up his apartment and moved most of it back to his family home whilst you finished up school for the year. He had been staying with you for the summer before joining you on your vacation so when you headed to the airport it was time to say your goodbyes. “Be good Bunny, don’t cause too much mischief with Loki and stay in touch. I love you my little Bunny” he said wiping the tears from your eyes. You couldn’t say anything, so you just held him tight and cried.

Tagging the bestie @lannycleave because I have promised to write a sad Steve one as a way to punnish myself

Part 2

#bucky x reader #pietro x reader #avengers au #marvel #marvel au #avengers fanfiction #𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬𝟐𝐤 #bucky barnes fluff #pietro maximoff fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #pietro maximoff fanfiction #natasha x bucky

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goldenroutledge · 4 years ago

Note

hey!! i have a request idea, maybe you can write a dating qb! topper headcanon!!☺️

dating qb!topper

a/n: thanks for requesting babe, y’all are bout to make me simp for qb top 🥺 ALSO THOSE HANDSSSS OMG

topper masterlist

so y’all already know a smidge of what falling in love with qb!topper is like so let’s talk about dating him

since you went from best friends to lovers, you knew pretty much everything there is to know about one another

but that wasn’t a problem at all

no awkward first dates

no small talk

no ‘should-i-call-her-the-next-day’ type of thing

it seemed like you never ran out of things to talk about

but even then you could sit or lay together in blissful silence

in fact topper loved the stars and astronomy

you both laid under the night sky often, it was your thing

“this view is gorgeous, isn’t it?” he’d ask you

“yeah, the stars are so pretty tonight.”

he’d only turn his face towards you to watch the look on your face before saying: “i’m not talking about the stars, baby.”

you’d smile at him widely, leaning your face into the crook of his neck

he would point out all the different constellations you couldn’t remember

“well i guess all those tackles haven’t given you too much brain damage, good to know.”

basically you both were just in your own world

and nobody could get in the way of that

like after you guys got together you both were pretty much unreachable

“y/n, i can’t believe you blew us off on saturday. i thought we were going to the mall, where the hell were you? you weren’t even answering your phone.” kourtney would ask you on monday.

“we had plans?”

you honestly weren’t even on your phone when you were with topper unless it was to fall into the endless pit called tiktok

it was almost like you were underwater

neither of you cared about what was happening on your phones

because it wasn’t more important than what was in front of you

topper’s teammates did, in fact, tease him

whenever he would text you from the locker room someone always shouted

“SIMP!”

he would just shrug it off replying, “if you’re lonely just say that, man”

lowkey everyone wanted a relationship like yours

even his teammates at times cuz everyone needs love

they acted like they didn’t like you for ‘taking away their team captain’

something about ‘bros before hoes’

but they’d be jealous when you would bring topper some snacks before practice or something

topper would definitely eat in front of them

anyways back to football

alwayssss in his jerseys

even writing his number on your cheek in that colorful paint stuff to show your spirit

for the whole school of course

even if you only watched topper the whole game

you didn’t think he noticed

but he did

everytime he would look up to the bleachers you were staring right back at him, flashing him a smile when you saw his head turn towards you

and yes he would point his finger towards you in the stands when he scored

and you’d be overwhelmed with love each time he made the cliche gesture

you made up a pre-game handshake

which you both insisted on doing every time

because you were his good luck charm

the simple acknowledgement of you cheering him on gave him such a serotonin boost

post game highs were the best ever

topper had so much adrenaline and he was more than happy to have you to celebrate with him at his side (when they won)

when they lost, well, that’s a story for another day

post-game or practice you would try to ignore the sweat coating his body and kiss him anyway

sometimes you forced him to shower before he went anywhere near you

he loved when you accompanied him when he was working out

subtly watching your face as he flexed his muscles

because let’s face it, you couldn’t resist him like that

not to mention his HANDSS

running your fingers over his prominent veins

“be careful babe, you got a little drool on your chin.”

“sorry, just admiring my favorite necklace.” you’d smile up at him innocently.

but anyway

lots of time spent together

cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles

you love each other a lot

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

a/n: i loved making this and i still have more ideas. more qb!topper content will definitely be coming and im taking requests!

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @rosylinn @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @freddymaybank @annab-nana @babeyglo @sunsetholland @moniamaybank

topper taglist: @vintageobx

#topper thornton #topper outer banks #topper obx #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x y/n #topper headcanon #qb!topper #austin north

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nubianamy · 3 years ago

Text

35k, PG, Finn/Sam, pre-slash, pre-canon, camp, series, drama

from chapter 3

Every time Finn and Sam were around the campfire after that, Finn encouraged him to sing. Sometimes it was with Aggie’s borrowed guitar, and sometimes it was just him, without any accompaniment. Sam had a strong, melodic voice, and it didn’t really need the guitar, but Finn noticed he was louder and more confident when he was strumming along, and that was great to witness.

One evening, after most of the guys had gone back to their cabins and Finn and Sam were there tending the dying fire, Sam turned to him curiously. “How come you never sing by yourself? I mean, I would play anything you wanted to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” Finn shook his head perhaps a little too quickly, “that’s kind of the rule me and Puck have. Like, he’s the front man for the band, and I get to do the harmonies and stuff when we mess around.”

Sam seemed to accept that at face value, which suited Finn just fine, even if it involved throwing Puck under the bus with the implication that Puck had decided on the rule. When really, it was because whenever Finn had taken lead vocals, he’d managed to almost put the beater through the kick drum, he got so tense.

“The thing is, I can barely hear you when I’m singing,” Sam said, poking the fire with a long stick. “I’m kind of loud in my own ears, if you know what I mean. But what I can hear sounds really good.”

He smiled over his shoulder at Finn, not teasing, not waiting for Finn to say something, just because that was how Sam was. Being next to him, watching him smile like that, gave Finn courage. He took a deep breath. “I, uh… I used to sing all the time, when I was a kid. My mom had all these cassette tapes, and we’d play and sing in the kitchen and in the car. And she dated this guy, Darren. He always said I should be a singer when I grew up.”

“Sounds like he was really supportive.” Sam turned so he was facing Finn, digging the stick into the ground so he could lean against it, “What about your mom? Did she... not like it?” He quickly added, “I just... you don’t sing anymore, so I assume someone convinced you not to, or something.”

“Nobody,” Finn said, shrugging. “I mean, nobody in particular. You know how guys are. It just stopped being cool to do stuff like that. Like playing video games or reading comics. Me and Puck, we still do those things together, but… we don’t tell anybody? That would kind of be the death of our popularity, and Quinn, she thinks that’s really important.”

Sam nodded slowly, and in the darkness and the firelight it was hard to read much of his expression, “I guess people don’t do a lot of things they want to do. But, everyone here likes the singing. And I definitely do, and I like comic books and video games, so you already know I’m super lame.” He reached forward to nudge Finn’s knee with his fingers as Finn chuckled. “If you ever wanted to try with me, that’d be cool.”

“Try singing? I mean, we’ve done that lots.” Finn gave him a nervous smile. “Maybe if nobody else was around, I would. If it was just us.”

Sam looked down at the log they were sitting on for a long moment before he looked back and smiled, “I mean, Sean’s always sneaking over to the cheerleading camp, right? You come and get me when you’re ready, and I’m happy to listen.”

It didn’t happen that night, or the night after that, but Finn thought about Sam’s suggestion a lot, maybe more than he should have. It was running through his mind pretty much all the time when he wasn’t focusing on something else. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be during a lot of the practices.

“Hudson! Are you planning on running at any point this morning!” Coach Tyler yelled, and Finn picked up the pace as he quickly as he could until he was next to Sean again.

“Look, dude,” Sean looked around and gave Finn a pointed look, “You need to focus.”

“I’m trying—”

“No, your mind’s somewhere else,” Sean reached over and tapped the side of his head with the back of his hand. “Listen, I get it. You’re not finding this challenging. But the QB boat has sailed, and you need to be giving this your all, okay? Now... What can I do to get your mind off whatever it’s on, and back on these plays? Because we’ve got our second game coming up, and if Lucas loses to Sam’s team? He’s gonna be fucking insufferable.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing. It’s just something between me and Sam.” Finn shook his head, “We haven’t had time to really work it out—”

“Great. Me and Aggie are gonna go smoke weed in another cabin tonight. So, you and Sam can pick a room and hash this all out, before I lose my patience with you, dweeb.”

Finn watched as Sean moved away and was about to move himself when there was a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead. He winced, expecting to see Coach Tyler, but instead Lucas was looking at him with a very neutral expression. “You’re interested in being QB?”

“Kind of?” Finn tried to settle under Lucas’s gaze. He’d been friendly enough to him, but then he’d turn around and be terrible to Aggie. Finn didn’t trust him. “I mean, yeah, I’m interested, but… that’s your position, right? Yours and Sam’s?”

“It’s like saying the circus belongs to the ringmaster and the accordion-playing monkey,” Lucas rolled his eyes, and looked Finn up and down, “I’m not going to be playing next year, and I kind of like the idea of passing this on to someone. I mean, you’ve got shitty taste in friends, but...” He shrugged. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Hudson.”

Finn watched him walk away, feeling much the same as he had when Darren told him he should be a singer. Seriously, if I had your voice, my group would still exist. Keep it up. He felt a shiver. It didn’t matter in that moment if Sam wanted to be QB or not. He pictured himself on the field, in the center of the team, calling the plays, catching the hike, passing the ball for the touchdown. It actually felt possible.

Maybe that was why, when Sam asked him at dinner, “So are we singing tonight by the fire?” Finn shook his head.

“Aggie and Sean are busy,” he said. “We can be alone in the cabin.”

“Oh.” Sam seemed to hesitate, causing the line of people waiting for food behind him to stop for a moment, before he quickly took a step forward again. “Yeah. Okay. Uh, your room or mine?”

“Whatever. Except our room has that chair with no arms. It might be easier for you to play guitar sitting there, instead of on the bed?”

“Isn’t that chair really uncomfortable?” Sam said, walking straight past the salad bar without stopping. “I mean, I’m fine with either. The chair sounds great. Just, if you want the bed instead, I can make that work.”

It turned out the evening was drizzly, anyway, so Finn didn’t feel so bad keeping Sam all to himself. Back in their cabin, however, Sam seemed restless, moving from one thing to another. Finn tried to give him space.

“You know, I think I’m going to go for a run,” Sam told him finally.

Finn raised an eyebrow as Sam stripped off his t-shirt. “In the rain?”

“Just a short one. It’ll make it easier for me to focus.” He backed toward the door in his undershirt. “I won’t be long.”

“You’re gonna get wet.” Finn said, but before he could try his argument for why Sam should sit down before he lost his nerve, Sam had vanished out of the door, his glasses abandoned on the side table. Finn stood by the door, watching Sam’s legs carry him around the lake trail until he was out of sight. Then he went through the bathroom into his and Sean’s room, dug his phone out of his jacket pocket, and dialed Puck’s number.

It went to voicemail once, but the second time Finn called, it clicked to life. “You have the worst timing, Hudson. I’m in the middle of something.” Puck sounded annoyed, but there was the sound of music playing softly in the background so he couldn’t be too busy, “Or, I mean, I’m about to be getting into something.”

“Dude, you could have let it go to—uh.” He laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll be quick. What’s a song you and I sing together that’s really good? I mean, really, really good. One that shows off a little.”

“How about...” Puck trailed off, and there was a noise in the background that sounded almost like a groan.

Let's talk about sex, baby Let's talk about you and me Let's talk about all the good things And the bad things that may be

“Not that,” Finn protested. “Dude, I’m not trying to get in anybody’s pants. What the hell. I’m talking good singing.”

“Why’re you singing to someone if you don’t want to get in their pants?” Puck scoffed. “Can I offer...”

Come out Virginia, don't let 'em wait You Catholic girls start much too late Aw but sooner or later it comes down to faith Oh I might as well be the one

Finn flung himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “No, no, Billy Joel is your range, not mine. Something higher.”

“So much for being quick about it. Sounds like the rumors about you aren’t exactly accurate.” He could hear a scuffling noise, and shushing and snorts of muffled laughter.

“Dude, who’s there with you?” Finn said suspiciously.

“Oh, this big, handsome, burly right guard. Yeah, we’re going at it pretty hot and heavy right now.” Puck sounded almost bored. “And, oh, yeah, there’s Mr. Ryerson coming through the door.”

“You really know how to make everything gross,” Finn said, grinning. “Okay, well, if you can’t think of anything, I’m going to have to default to Journey.”

“Do that Steve Perry single, the one from Straight Talk.” Puck hummed the chorus, and Finn sat up. “Can I hang up on you now, or do you have more stupid questions?”

“No, I think I’m good. Have fun… whatever you’re doing.”

“Looks like I might be doing some singing, actually.” Puck sounded amused. He added, to whoever was there, “You’re serious? Right now?”

Finn laughed. “I’m out of here. Whoever she is, good luck.”

He had to look up the lyrics to the song on his phone, not because he hadn’t sung it eight thousand times, but because he was sure he had been singing some of them wrong for years. Somehow it seemed important to get the lyrics right when he was singing for somebody else. Not that he was singing to Sam, or anything like that.

Actually, now that he was reading the lyrics, Finn decided he might want to have second thoughts about singing this particular song. It wasn’t because it was a love song, but it was kind of sad, and not exactly upbeat. But it was too late to call Puck back, and he wasn’t going to pick something else now.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside, and Finn sat up on the bed quickly, his phone almost bouncing on the mattress as it slipped from his hand. He had begun to swing his legs off, but the door opened with a very loud noise, and Sam stepped in, shaking out his hair.

“Paul wanted us to know that the hose for the sprinkler system is working again,” he said dryly, barely looking as he pulled at his undershirt that was soaked to his skin. “It came off and sprayed me, but he, very heroically...” he trailed off, his eyes finally falling on Finn who was resting back on his hands, his legs splayed wide. “Uh... are you... waiting for someone?”

“Me? No.” Finn straightened up, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He rose to his feet, tripping over his shoes a little. “Who would I be… um. Can I get you, like, a towel or something?”

“I should get to the bathroom,” Sam gestured but his shoes squelched as he took a step, and Finn quickly shook his head.

“No way, you need to lose the shirt at least, man, before you get sick. You can borrow one of mine until you go next door.” He grabbed one of his big, comfy McKinley High athletics shirts from his drawer and held it out. “Just—sit there and take off your shoes. I’ll get you that towel.”

He ducked into the bathroom. The towels on the rack both smelled like feet, so he rummaged in the shelf above the sink until he found a clean one. It was a worn towel from Six Flags, the one with the picture of the roller coaster on it.

Finn brought it back into his room where Sam was sitting on the floor in a puddle, his soaking-wet undershirt in a pile next to one of his shoes. He was struggling to get the other one off. When Finn snickered, he shot him an exasperated look.

“It’s really hard to untie wet shoelaces,” he protested.

“Hey, I’m not saying anything,” Finn held up his hands with a grin.

He exchanged Sam’s wet undershirt for the dry towel, then took the shirt into the bathroom to drip dry. He couldn’t help but pause in the doorway, though, and glance back at Sam, who was contorting himself trying to get a better angle on the lace, until his foot was nearly over his head, as he got more and more frustrated.

“Here.” Finn knelt on the floor next to him, gesturing for Sam to put his foot back on the floor. “You’re just making it hard for yourself. Let me.”

Sam looked very unsure about this, but he let Finn tug at the heel of his shoe until it finally slid off his foot with a sloppy sound. It made them both snicker. When Finn presented him with the shoe, like it was a priceless gift, Sam laughed harder.

“Thanks.” Sam rolled his eyes. “For the towel, too. It’s been a pretty crappy evening so far. Maybe... I should just turn in.”

“You think it’s going to get any better if Aggie gets home and sees you’re asleep?” Finn joked lightly, “I bet he’d put your hand in warm water just on principle. Come on, why don’t we just... hang out. I’ve got this dumb book I’m supposed to read for my classes next year, I’m sure you could do some sketching or something, right?”

That made Sam brighten a little. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get comfortable, but the separate beds felt like way too far away to Finn’s mind. He pulled the blanket off the bed, and made himself a little half-nest on the ground, his back to the drawers. Sam spread out on the mattress, not physically, but between the sketchpad, a small pile of comic books, and the guitar resting against the headboard, there wasn’t a lot of space there.

The book was very boring, but listening to the sound of Sam’s pencil skritching away on the paper was strangely relaxing.

It wasn’t until the third time that he lifted his hand to his nose, and Sam hummed in a mildly negative way, that he turned to look. Sam finished with a line, and then looked back towards Finn and froze. Finn offered a small smile, “You doing all right?”

“Yeah, I was just...” Sam glanced at the sketchbook on his lap and then back to Finn. “Art, you know?”

“Are you drawing me?” Finn couldn’t help but ask, his chest feeling strangely warm. Sam looked mildly horrified, but after a beat he slowly nodded. “Can I see?” Finn continued, and that got a sharp negative. Finn tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because... it’s embarrassing.” Sam shrugged, “And private. And you were supposed to sing, and you didn’t, so I’m holding my art ransom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Finn felt his smile broaden. “Does that mean you would show me if I sang something?”

Sam glanced back at the sketchbook and then back to him, “It’s honestly not that good. I mean, I really want to hear you sing, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if you’re expecting the Mona Lisa or something.”

“Dude,” Finn said softly. “There is literally no way I would be disappointed by you, Sam. Ever.”

Read the rest of chapter 3 | Read the whole story on AO3

#@karofsky #finn/sam #sinn #@beshrew-my-very-heart #glee fanfiction

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janiedean · 4 years ago

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I’m not in the spn fandom, but I’ve seen some people say it’s homophobic while others are saying that destiel is canon. What’s that about?

oh boy where do I start

I’ll try to make it brief but you’ve gotta keep this stuff in mind:

this show went on... at least six years longer than it should have like post s8 it was obvious they were trying to cobble ideas together to air something and by s12 it jumped the shark to a level where it was just ridiculous, so basically everything that’s happened since more or less around then was filler to keep the breathing machine on until the cw laid it to rest

the whole deancas thing came out in a context where... right guys i’ve been there since SEASON THREE WAS AIRING I REMEMBER SHIT so let me tell you that basically until cas was introduced the only fandom ships with a traction were pretty much different declinations of win/cest with the j2 rpf stuff taking like... 99% and 99% of fps and rpf respectively because there was literally no other main and like... not everyone was gonna be into sibling/parental incest or rpf obviously but anyway when castiel showed up basically deancas was the only other m/m ship that actually wasn’t incest floating around and it went big very very soon

now, they had planned to keep cas around as a guest for like some ten eps and then he should have been replaced with another angel character who basically was a human woman who realized she actually was a fallen angel and cas should have died in like s4 ep 10 and anna (the other char) should have been dean’s guide into stopping the apocalypse except that the writers realized castiel was very well-received and the ratings spiked up so they went like QUICK QUICK SWITCH didn’t kill him off and basically gave him the part anna was supposed to have

now now, dean and anna fucked in part two of her two-parter introduction arc lmao or was it even part one but anyway she was supposed to be a love interest and they thought S5 would have been the last so you do your math

then: they’re at S15 and obviously they didn’t go there but

spn fandom also is like... toxicity™ incarnated like before voltron and su there was spn fandom, all the sides were terrible, the side that harassed the actors was worse and like.... sadly a bunch of exclusively j2 people who did harass the actors were also preminent winc/esters and put money into cons and there was a whole circus I can’t even begin getting into but like basically the least dramatic thing that could happen was that the cw would release pictures of dean and cas on their own for promotional reasons and the smm would get a bunch of verbal abuse tweets BECAUSE WHERE IS SAM YOU LOST THE SPIRIT OF THE SHOW

also there were campaigns to fire misha which almost worked for s7 then they saw the ratings dropped when he left and QUICK QUICK LET’S RESUSCITATE HIM lmao

also jensen always was like nah dean’s straight I act like they’re friends but he’s also the guy whose wife got continuously harassed by people who thought she was a cover for his secret rship with jared and so on and like he obviously thinks all shippers are out of control and honestly I can’t even blame him for it since from what I gather some ppl started trailing his kids after school I DON’T KNOW but that’s that

on the other side misha never made a mystery that he played it like cas was in love with dean like he said it at cons pretty much and like..... regardless of everything if there’s one thing misha collins wouldn’t do is milking it for clout bc honestly the guy is a solid ally and has a bi wife/used to be in a poly rship and always put his money where his mouth was re lgbt support so there’s that too

now... back in 2011 and s8 where there was a scene that was the exact EXACT same shit that happened when they canonized my marvel comics #1 ship (like srsly except the marvel ship kissed at the end of that scene) I went like ‘okay they know the undertones they’re obviously marching on it but seeing how this show is and how the fanbase is if it ever goes canon either it’s one sided or it ends with sam becoming a research guru and dean and cas drive off in the sunset hunting monsters without actually saying it out loud’ and it would have been like... soft-not-quite-there canonization but regardless I also said if that ever happens it’s gonna be in the last fifteen minutes of the finale because they don’t want the fandom drama to actually hit them in the face and how to put it, the writing has been a joke for seasons but I can’t even...... blame them for it bc honestly I was tired of fandom drama in S7 imagine working on that since 2005

so like I’m 100% not surprised that whatever’s going down is going down when it’s three episodes from the end actually I’m surprised it didn’t happen in the last ten minutes

now: if cas tells dean openly that he loves him and the context is that he got a curse that sends him to hell if he loves someone (idk I didn’t check the specifics BUT) then it is at least one-sided canon black on white and you can’t say they didn’t make it canon

if he goes to hell and he stays there and that’s it... that’s homophobic and bad and they could have just queerbaited their way through it

except that in this dumb show everyone went to hell twice and came back and cas was introduced as having saved dean from it bodily, so like... if this was a well-written show and they weren’t cowards they’d have dean doing the same for him and realizing he reciprocates getting over his 30+ years of emotional constipation and in that case... wouldn’t be qb

now I’m not betting money on that but they also did this... three eps before the end which sets them up to do it actually so I DON’T KNOW but before deciding it’s homophobic as a whole I’d see how it plays out also bc again this was nEVER gonna happen before the end but the fact that the end kept on being pushed and it wasn’t like... nine seasons but fifteen just made it look ridiculous and like it took them years to get there when if they had been axed in S10 when it would have been merciful.... maybe it wouldn’t have been

so like... either way I wanna see how it plays out but as stated, called in 2011 it could have gone like this the moment we got in the final stretch :)))

anyway: it’s confirmed canon on one side so it’s canon imvho

/shrug

#welcome to my ted talk #otp: don't ever change #i mean.... dkjgkjds #also fun fact: jensen ackles owns my s8 dvds lmao #THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH DEANCAS BEING CANON BUT #Anonymous #ask post

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wheresmynaya · 4 years ago

Text

Lost in the Lights Ch.3 | Brittana

Aaand we’re back to the usual weekly routine! Thank you for all the luv, I appreciate it so much you have no idea.

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

By early October, Brittany has finally adapted to her busy schedule. With Autumn settling in, the mornings are a lot cooler but Brittany finds the crisp air refreshing when she’s out on her daily runs before class. Winters in Florida weren’t really all that cold, so this is all new to her.

Brittany takes it in stride though; in fact, she’s interested to see how the colder weather will impact her playing when it comes to Game Days. So far, the team is 5-0 now with just five more games left of the regular season. Everyone on the team is feeling good about their current standings, but Brittany knows it’s wise not to let it get to their heads.

Cockiness doesn’t mesh well with an undefeated record. She knows that one from experience.

Brittany’s in the locker room just after practice one Wednesday and she’s a hot, sweaty mess. Her hair is sure to be all over the place, but she’s too tired to care about appearances after such a grueling session. All she wants is a shower and to be able to scrub the dirt and dust caked on her arms and shins. Maybe a nice face mask too? She’ll wait until she’s home for that one though.

“Woah,” Santana gasps when she rounds the wall of lockers designated for the Cheerios and nearly runs into Brittany. She eyes her up and down and smirks, “You look like you’ve been rolling around in mud.”

Brittany chuckles at her comment. Since Santana’s surprise visit a couple weeks ago, things between them have been a lot better. They actually talk and sometimes they even walk together to their last class if Brittany gets to her locker in time. It’s a nice change and it makes her school days a whole lot easier.

“Yeah, these new drills Coach Beiste has us doing are intense,” Brittany sighs but a happy smile soon graces her lips, “I didn’t expect to see you here still.”

“Me neither,” Santana groans, “Coach Sylvester wants Quinn and I to hang back and help come up with routines for Homecoming Week.”

“Is it that time already?” Brittany wonders aloud, “That would explain the extra drills.”

“Yeah, it’s next week,” Santana answers, “It’s one of the most busiest times for the squad. Honestly, Spirit Week should be renamed Hell Week because that’s where I’d rather be than to deal with all this extra work.”

“The perks of being Co-Captain,” Brittany teases before she asks, “Is it really that bad?”

“Small town high schools go apeshit over events like this,” Santana explains, “You’ll see. Quinn and I have to start campaigning for Homecoming Court as well, it’s kind of mandatory for us. I’m sure you’ll probably get roped into something too being that you’re the quarterback and all.”

“I hope not,” Brittany scrunches her nose, “I hate the extra attention when I’m not on the field. It’s super weird being treated like some kind of celebrity.”

Santana smiles apologetically and echoes Brittany’s earlier words, “The perks of being QB.”

Brittany grumbles through her pout. It makes Santana’s smile soften.

“Well, I’ll let you get cleaned up,” Santana says and shakes her phone, “Quinn’s finally back from our coffee run so I better go meet her.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then!” Brittany waves as they go their separate ways.

When Friday comes around, the Titans are more amped up than ever. The guys are dressed in their jeans and jerseys and strut around the school like they own it. Brittany wears her jersey as well seeing that it’s tradition on Game Days, but she starts to notice the annoyed glares they get from some of the other teams.

More importantly, the Hockey team.

There was once instance where Brittany, Mike and Sam were talking by Sam’s locker when a couple guys from the Hockey team walked by. Brittany instantly felt the tension as the two teams exchanged glares.

“The hell you looking at?” Sam growled to Brittany’s surprise. She hadn’t ever heard him take a tone like that when it wasn’t being directed at Dave or Azimio.

Mike stood up a little straighter too and balled his fists.

The tallest one just laughed as he shook his head at them, “Couple of sell-outs.”

Brittany’s brow knitted; what’s that suppose to mean?

“Fuck you, Rick,” Sam scoffed, “At least we know what it’s like to win.”

“Right. You’re winners now that you’ve got a girl on the team,” Rick teased, “Fucking stupid.”

Brittany felt like she should say something, but she just griped the straps of her bookbag tighter until her knuckles whitened.

Rick looked to Brittany, “At least those gay ass tights finally work in someone’s favor.”

“Get out of here, man!” Mike ordered as he took a step forward and shoved at Rick’s shoulder.

Rick stumbled back and held up his hands although the sly smirk was still there. He gave Brittany a wink then motioned for his guys to keep walking.

Suddenly Brittany felt a little gross. She’s no stranger to those kind of comments too, but they’ve never lost their effect on making her feel sexualized. That might be one of the worst drawbacks to having so much emphasis on her being a female on a boys’ team.

“Don’t worry about them,” Mike said with a nudge to Brittany’s arm, “They’ve always been jealous of us even when we weren’t winning.”

“Hockey sucks,” Sam added, “That’s why. No one ever goes to their games.”

Brittany just nodded and pasted on a smile. She saw Santana down the other end of the hall walking towards her with Quinn and soon her smile turned genuine. Santana hadn’t looked her way yet, so Brittany just watched as those around her just stared like she was the hottest girl in school.

Brittany kind of agreed with that sentiment.

Sam and Mike noticed her leering and began to smirk when they realized who Brittany was looking at. When Santana and Quinn got closer, Sam and Mike glanced over at Brittany again to see if she was still staring.

They chuckled when they found that she was.

“Hey Pierce,” Santana smirked as she admired Brittany in her jersey and tight blue jeans. Maybe she kind of had a thing for a girl in uniform, but who didn’t?

“Hi Santana,” Brittany grinned.

Sam and Mike looked between themselves to see if they were invisible. That could be the only reason why Santana skipped greeting them.

Quinn chuckled and acknowledged the guys, “Hey boys.” Her eyes lingered longer on Mike than Sam before she averted her gaze to Brittany, “Hey Brittany.”

Upon hearing her name, Brittany blinked out of her staring contest with Santana and smiled in response. They haven’t actually met officially yet, but Santana talked about her enough for Brittany feel like she knew her.

“Hi,” Brittany greeted.

They five of them plummeted into an semi-awkward silence that was only broken up by Sam saying, “Well…this is awkward.”

Fortunately though, that was enough to have everyone laughing and the awkwardness wore away just as the bell rang out. Brittany’s next class was with Mike so she turned him and nodded.

“We should get going,” She said as she gave a last fleeting glance to Santana and smiled, “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Santana smiled back before turning to Quinn. The smile fell as she hardened, “Let’s go.”

Quinn nodded and together they continued their walk down the hall with their heads held high, their expressions only a couple of top bitches could wear.

Sam just looked between the duos and frowned, “Guess I’ll just walk by myself to class.”

By Lunch, Brittany’s sitting with Kurt, Tina and Mercedes at their usual table but today Brittany feels like she’s being stared at. Actually, she always gets stared at for her table choice but she doesn’t get what the big deal is.

Kurt, Tina and Mercedes are going on about an upcoming performance they’re planning with some of the other members of their club. Brittany can tell they’re excited about it as they reel off potential song choices.

“It’s going to have to get the approval from Rachel,” Kurt complains, “With her being the self-proclaimed Team Leader and all. I have no idea how Mr. Schue let her get away with that one.”

“Rachel can kiss my ass,” Mercedes waves off, “If she has us singing Barbra again, I’m going to riot.”

“I agree,” Kurt nods, “There’s just a time and a place for showtunes and I don’t think a school dance is one of them.”

“Definitely not,” Tina says, “Artie said he wants to do Miguel.”

“He would,” Mercedes laughs, “I can see it though; white boy could probably pull it off.”

Everyone at the table laughs, even Brittany although she’s barely following along. She hasn’t met a Rachel or Artie, but she knows who Mr. Schue is so she’s not super lost.

“Sorry Britt,” Kurt smiles apologetically, “We shouldn’t make you feel left out by talking about all of this Glee Club stuff around you.”

Brittany just shrugs, “I don’t mind it. It’s kind of nice hearing about something other than football and schoolwork so don’t mind me.”

“Would you…ever consider joining?” Tina wonders.

Mercedes and Kurt are surprised by the question but await Brittany’s answer anxiously.

“It sounds fun, but I just don’t have the time for it,” Brittany answers easily, “Plus I can’t really sing so I’m probably doing you a favor.”

Everyone can understand Brittany’s reasoning, so they don’t press any further. Instead, they go back to tossing out different ideas for a set list. It’s kind of cool listening along, but then Puck and Finn approach her and the mood changes. Brittany only know they’ve walked up because everyone at the table instantly silences.

“We’ve saved you a seat at our table,” Puck says.

Mercedes, Kurt and Tina glance between him and Brittany like they’ve just settled in for a show.

“Thanks but I like sitting here,” Brittany answers politely then turns back to her friends. She feels them still lingering behind her though.

Puck scowls and looks to Finn who’s staring at her like she just spoke in another language.

“Look, you don’t have to perform this kind of community service by sitting with these losers,” Puck tries again, “You’ve already proved that you’re cool.”

That comment has Brittany feeling hot.

The worst thing anyone can do is make fun of her friends and even if she doesn’t hang around them as much as Sam and Mike, Kurt and Mercedes were some of the firsts to treat her with kindness when she arrived to McKinley. That doesn’t get forgotten just because she’s higher up than them on this imaginary McKinley food chain.

“Don’t call my friends losers,” Brittany warns. The politeness is still there but it’s wearing down.

Puck just shakes his head and looks to Finn, “You tell her, man.”

“Britt, you can’t sit with them,” Finn says sternly. There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to simplify it for her, “Titans sit with Titans.”

“I don’t see you saving a seat for Kurt too,” Brittany challenges. She can see they’re starting to gain an audience – even Santana and Quinn watch from their assigned table – but she doesn’t waver on her stance.

“It’s different for him. You’re the quarterback. There are certain things you just can’t do. One of them being this,” Finn explains with the wave of his hand at the table, “Quit making things difficult.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Brittany snaps as she goes to stand this time and all heads turn to watch. She keeps her chin raised though Finn towers over her. She’s not going to get pushed around over something so ridiculous, “If Kurt can’t sit with the rest of the team then neither will I.”

Finn just presses his lips tightly together in a grimace while Puck stares at her in disbelief.

“You’re not Team Captain anymore, Finn, and one of these days you’re going to finally understand that the way things are done here aren’t right,” Brittany explains, “And if I have to be the one to teach you that, then so be it. I’m already schooling you on the field. I don’t mind the extra work.”

Finn scoffs at that but Puck looks a little impressed.

“Damn,” Puck smirks and glances to his side at Finn, “She might have bigger balls than you.”

Finn ignores him though.

“Whatever then,” Finn huffs, “Don’t come running to us when this backfires on you.”

“Don’t worry,” Brittany smiles sweetly, “I won’t.”

When she sits back down, Kurt’s jaw is dropped.

“That was amazing,” He applauds.

Brittany just shrugs, “I hate the double-standards at this school, almost as much as I hate bullies.”

“Well there’s a ton of them here,” Mercedes jokes before giving Brittany an approving nod, “That was pretty cool though. Don’t think I’ve ever seen Finn so tripped up.”

Brittany smiles at the compliments but she hates confrontation so the conversation doesn’t sit well with her. She knows it’s impossible to breeze through high school without a ruffling some feathers, doesn’t mean she likes to do it on purpose. She’s just not one to sit idly by either.

Brittany goes back to her lunch and tries to push away how Finn’s warning lingers in the back of her mind.

By Game Time, the Titans take the field with the most energy that Brittany’s seen yet. They’ve gained quite a crowd despite it being an Away game for the them. Now that they’re on this historical winning streak, it that adds to the team’s eagerness to play and the spectators eagerness to watch.

Not to mention that this game happens to be against their biggest rivals: the Carmel High Camels.

The school has dominated across the board in all aspects, so – before Brittany’s arrival – the Titans never stood a chance. That doesn’t stop the rivalry from being any less intense. The teams’ hatred for each other runs deep, but the Titans feel revived this season because now they’ve got Brittany and Brittany’s a gun in the pocket.

Or so that’s what all the guys have been saying. Brittany tries to keep a level-head though.

She has watched the tapes of their past games against Carmel, she can see why they’re the top team to beat. The Camels are a well-oiled machine with a current standing of 5-0 as well. Their defense has been known to get aggressive when it comes to applying pressure on the QB, so Brittany’s going to have to rely heavily on her O-Line for protection.

They’ve done pretty well thus far in doing that, but Brittany knows anything can happen. The other team can just as easily find a weak point and there goes their winning streak.

Brittany shakes out her arms to loosen up and wonders if she’s being realistic here or if she’s still letting Finn and the Hockey guys get in her head. She can’t decide, so she glances up at the stands for a distraction and finds her mom and brother waving at her.

Pete’s holding up a sign he made and it has Brittany smiling at all the colors he decided to use. She gives them a wave too before she’s putting on her helmet and jogging out to join the ref and the other team’s nominated player to perform the coin toss.

When the other team wins and decides to be on the receiving end, Brittany gets a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The Titans are dealt their first serious blow of the season.

It’s the worse game Brittany’s played yet. Not that her performance was specifically bad, she just wasn’t prepared for the Camel’s intense man-to-man coverage which made it extremely difficult for her receivers to get open.

She also can’t believe they lost to a school that has a camel as their mascot, so weird.

The Titans had to rely on their still-developing run game which – to be put simply – sucked majorly. Puckerman was wrapped up every single time and Brittany could see that he was starting to let his emotions get to him. She tried to remind him to use that for the next play, but by then she had lost a lot of the guys’ to their rivalry.

At one point in the third quarter, the teams were a taunt away from an all-out brawl.

The Titans were just a couple yards away from the end zone – the closest they’ve been able to get all game – but Carmel High’s defense was nearly impenetrable. Even Brittany was beginning to get frustrated, but she couldn’t succumb to her emotions too.

At least one person on the team still had to keep a level head.

It was fourth down and her head was telling her to bring out Special Teams and go for a field goal. It would at least get 3 points on the board where they currently had none, but Brittany didn’t want to give up all their hard work that drive just to get a field goal.

It was a tough decision, but she decided they should go for it. Half the team looked at her like she was crazy, the other half just wanted to rip the Camels apart. Even Coach Beiste was in her ear asking if Brittany was sure that’s the route she wanted to take.

Brittany was certain she could get in there. All she needed was for her O-Line to make a small break so that she could dive in. It was a risky call, but she hoped that Carmel High was too focused on her passing game to think she’d ever go for a sneak.

And they were; Brittany was able to push in over the top for the touchdown. Unfortunately though, that would be the only one the Titans would get all game.

The Camels end the Titans winning streak: 23-7.

\\\\\

When the final whistle was blown, Santana watched Brittany pull off her helmet to reveal a disappointed frown. It had been a rough game by the looks of it, but she was no stranger to how intense games against Carmel High could be. Puck’s been ejected from at least two games for swinging on one of the other guys so that should tell you that it’s never pretty.

Brittany must’ve not known that though and Santana hates how the blonde sulks to the sidelines in defeat. She doesn’t get why she’s beating herself up, Brittany was the only one that scored!

“They look so crushed,” Quinn mumbled as they watched the rest of the team walk off the field battered and bruised.

“Yeah,” Santana breathed out.

She kept her eyes on Brittany while Coach Beiste pulled her aside to talk. Slowly, the anguish on Brittany’s face started to morph. It wasn’t so much the disappointment and defeat anymore, but instead determination.

Santana wondered what the coach was saying to her that could bring on such change.

“Hope the guys don’t give her a hard time,” Quinn says when she notices Santana watching Brittany.

Santana crinkles her nose at the thought and scoffs, “They should be used to losing to Carmel by now. It’s not her fault they couldn’t get their shit together. She’s the only one that freaking scored anyway!”

Quinn just smirks at how riled up Santana gets and replies, “I guess we’ll just have to see what it’s like on Monday.”

“Yeah. I guess so,” Santana nods and tears her gaze away from Brittany to glance at Quinn, “You still coming over tomorrow? These posters aren’t going to make themselves.”

“I’ll bring my hot glue gun,” Quinn teases before they join the rest of the squad in packing up.

When it comes to Homecoming Court campaigns, Santana and Quinn are veterans. Quinn’s been doing competitions and pageants like this a lot longer – probably since Quinn was born if she’s being honest – so Santana’s pretty grateful to have learned so much from her over the years. Although they’re best friends, when it comes to Homecoming there’s nothing like a little friendly competition to keep things interesting.

They’re two of the most popular girls in school so the race tends to be pretty close, but Santana wonders if that’ll be the same this time considering how things went down last year. Santana’s reputation and status as one of the HBICs of the school really took a hit and she has had a difficult time moving forward like nothing happened.

It’s hard to forget and she wonders if it’s the same for everyone else too. She’s heard the whispers about her, but Brittany’s arrival has drowned them out. For now. Who knows when they’ll turn a critical eye back on her?

It’s not a concern Santana voices to her best friend though, so it eats away at her and whispers words of doubt while they begin campaign planning.

Santana and Quinn are in the living room at the Lopez residence with all of their poster-making supplies spread out between them. They’re working away busily with some music in the background when Hector makes his way downstairs.

“Hi girls,” He greets as he slips into his jacket. Santana looks up and notices he’s dressed for work.

“Hi Mr. Lopez,” Quinn greets with a polite smile.

“You’re going to work?” Santana asks looking somewhat dejected. She thought he was off.

“I got called in. Nightshift today,” Hector confirms, “Your mom should be getting home soon though and I think she picked up something for dinner. What are you girls up to?”

Hector comes around the couch to put his shoes on, carefully moving so he doesn’t step on anything important.

“Just Homecoming stuff,” Santana answers with a shrug, trying to mask her disappointment. It’s not like they were meant to hang out or anything, but she has been noticing that he keeps his distance when it’s just them. Maybe she’s looking too far into it, but it seems like he can’t be bothered to be around her while Maribel’s away.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to and that’s what makes Santana feel even worse. She used to be such a daddy’s girl before last year. She hastes how much everything’s changed.

“Santana and I are campaigning for Homecoming Queen,” Quinn adds when she sees Santana getting wrapped up in her thoughts.

“Ah yes, that’s right! You two always compete against each other,” Hector chuckles, “It’s good that you’re still so involved in extracurriculars, Santana.”

At the sound of her name, Santana looks up and for the first time in awhile she sees a proud smile on her dad’s face. It instantly makes her feel lighter.

“It’ll look good on your college applications,” He adds.

“I know,” Santana answers. It’s hard for her not to feel a little relieved by his encouraging words. She craves his approval, why? She has no idea.

Hector gives her a resolute nod and looks to Quinn, “My girl is going to make a great doctor one day.”

Santana’s once again pleasantly surprised by her dad’s words even if she doesn’t agree with them. My girl; she can’t remember the last time he said that. Maybe he really is starting to see that nothing’s changed, that she’s still the same person she was before it all went to shit?

“Of course,” Quinn smiles back. Santana can tell she’s faking it and she’s grateful for that.

“Well, keep up the good work!” He applauds and pushes to stand, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Santana. Good day, Quinn.”

When Hector leaves for work, Quinn throws a wad of construction paper at Santana. The brunette scoffs and looks up.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t told him you’re undecided,” Quinn says.

Santana looks to her in disbelief, “Are you kidding? That was the longest he’s ever spoken to me without my mom being there. It wasn’t until just recently that he could look me in the eye again. No way I’m going to tell the truth now.”

Quinn purses her lips. She knows very little of Santana’s dynamic with her parents, but like her own she knows most of it is all for show. Families like theirs are usually only concerned with one thing and one thing only: their reputation.

“I’m going to drag this out for as long as I can,” Santana tells Quinn before she’s going back to her arts and crafts.

Quinn just sighs, “That can’t possibly end well.”

Santana doesn’t even look up, “I’ll take my chances.”

Awhile later, Santana and Quinn are nearly finished with their posters. They’ve gone with three variations of posters that they can hang around school on Monday and they’re pretty pleased with their work.

Like Hector said, Maribel comes home a short while later with take out and there’s enough for Quinn too so the three of them have dinner together on the couch while watching tv – something they wouldn’t dare do if her dad was around.

They’re talking about their Homecoming campaigns with Maribel when Santana accidentally brings up Brittany.

“You’ve never mentioned a Brittany before,” Maribel states as she turns away from the tv to Santana, looking as interested as ever.

Santana wants to kick herself for the slip up, but she does her best to deflect with a shrug, “She’s new to McKinley.”

She doesn’t know why she makes a point to leave out that Brittany’s also the Titans’ new QB and she feels a little disappointed in herself that she does.

“I’ve heard she might run,” Quinn adds with her eyes on the tv screen still.

Santana had a feeling Brittany might get talked into it, but she didn’t think she’d actually do it. She surprisingly has mixed feelings about it. She needs the win to solidify her reputation, but she doubts she’ll stand a chance against Brittany.

There’s also the small chance that Brittany’s only being nominated as a joke. Santana knows how the people of McKinley act and it’s not usually out of kindness.

Santana shakes her head, “No way. She hates the limelight.”

Quinn quirks a brow as she turns to Santana, “What would you know?”

“We talk sometimes,” Santana shrugs again casually. Quinn and Maribel eye her for more information, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Quinn begins to smirk, “You talk, huh?”

Santana flinches and glances to her mom out of reflex but Maribel’s too swept up in watching tv again to notice.

“We have class together,” Santana explains, “She sits right next to me. We’re bound to talk at some point. Don’t make it weird.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t bring her up so often,” Quinn replies. She laughs when Santana rolls her eyes at her, “What? I think it would be nice for you to have another friend besides me.”

“I have other friends,” Santana argues but even she knows that’s a lie.

“You have many acquaintances,” Quinn corrects, “You don’t consider any of them friends.”

Maribel chimes in next now that the show’s on commercial, “I wouldn’t mind you making another friend, mija. You can never have too many.”

Santana fights another eye roll because of course her mom would say that. Santana doesn’t say anything in response – she doesn’t know how to tell her that being friends with another girl isn’t as easy as it use to be, not to mention that girl being Brittany.

She doubts Maribel would understand, so Santana just goes back to watching tv until her mom excuses herself for the night.

It’s not until Quinn’s sure that they’re alone that she brings up the topic again.

“I just think you two would really hit it off,” Quinn reasons.

“So we’re not talking about friendship anymore?” Santana asks sarcastically.

“I mean, it could start off that way?” Quinn shrugs, “Like you said, you already share a class together. Plus I’ve seen you two talk by your lockers. Not to mention the way I witnessed you check her out the other day in the hall.”

Santana whirls on Quinn with wide eyes, “You didn’t witness shit.”

“I disagree.”

“I don’t know how when you were too busy checking out Boy Chang.”

Quinn’s jaw drops, “I-I wasn’t.”

Santana smirks upon seeing the blonde’s cheeks flush, “Sure Q. How is Mike anyway? You two done side-stepping around the obvious yet?”

“Don’t try to deflect,” Quinn says pointedly, “This isn’t about me. We’re talking about you.”

Santana just grumbles at her best friend’s persistence. She’s starting to feel like the walls are closing in on her or something, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Uh yeah there is. Brittany’s perf – “

“Can you stop?” Santana finally insists.

Quinn looks taken aback but she doesn’t say anything. Santana just feels like she’s about to crumble apart. She hates that feeling, it seemed like she was stuck in it for all of last year. So when she feels it creeping in again, it puts her on edge.

“I’m not ready for that,” Santana admits softly. Her gaze averts to her hands wringing themselves out in her lap, “She’s too…I don’t know. I just can’t. I can’t do it yet, okay?”

Quinn softens as she watches Santana shrink in on herself. She scoots closer to her, “Baby steps at least? All joking aside, I really do think she’d be good for you. I mean, how many other people at this school can you relate to? There’s Kurt, but he doesn’t really count. Does he?”

Santana knows she means because he’s a guy and agrees, “No, I guess he doesn’t.”

“And then there’s Berry…” Quinn jokes, “But I doubt you’re going to want to make nice with her after all of these years.”

Santana cringes, “Definitely not. She’d probably make me sing a homoerotic song with her or some bullshit that would have me running back in the closet.”

“Exactly. So I think you should try it with Brittany,” Quinn suggests lightly, “She seems sweet, relatively normal. I can see the appeal, you know? There’s something about her, it’s refreshing. She isn’t like everyone else in this town.”

Santana can’t help but smile.

“You’re right,” Santana says, “She’s better.”

“So you’re gonna try?” Quinn questions.

Santana fakes an eye-roll, “Maybe but don’t meddle, alright? I know how you thrive off of other people’s drama.”

Quinn doesn’t even mind the jab and goes to pull Santana in for a tight hug. Santana pretends she hates it, but after so many years of friendship they both know she doesn’t.

\\\\\

By Monday, Brittany has somewhat prepared herself for the criticism she’s bound to hear about Friday night’s game. Coach Beiste’s encouraging words after the game really helped break up the haze of disappointment, but there was something that stood out to her during their short talk.

“They’re going to give you a lot of grief after this. A loss to Carmel is always a hard pill to swallow, but stand tall. Don’t let these guys walk all over you,” Coach Beiste said, “You’re a great Team Captain, Pierce. You’ve helped improve the team so much already, keep that up. Set the example for these guys, it’s a good one to follow.”

She spent the entire weekend trying to get right with the loss and focus on how she was personally going to improve moving forward. She wanted to set the right kind of example for the guys, she wanted to leave McKinley better than she found it.

Still, no matter what kind of preparations she did, that nervous feeling still lingered.

There was tension everywhere: between the Titans and Carmel High, the Titans and the Hockey guys, the Titans and Brittany. Then she has Coach Beiste in her ear basically saying she needs to girl up if she wants to continue gaining the team’s respect.

It was a lot for Brittany to deal with.

She knew that being Team Captain meant that she had additional responsibilities, but she had very little experience when it came to all of this casual hatred. Sure, at her old school there were other teams that they wanted to beat but it wasn’t ever this intense.

But, Brittany loves a challenge so she’s determined to keep at this until she gets it. Moving forward, she was more determined than ever to win the next time the Titans and the Camels crossed paths.

So when Brittany arrives at school, she holds her head high and braces herself for whatever may come.

Surprisingly, no one approaches Brittany about the loss. In fact, everyone’s mostly swept up in the excitement of the first day of Spirit Week – which Brittany totally forgot about. Dressed in her jeans and blouse, Brittany sticks out like a sore thumb in a sea of students still in their pajamas.

But at least the weird looks are because of her attire and not about the game. She thinks she can handle that and heads over to her locker. There, she finds Santana applying lip gloss in the tiny mirror she has stuck to the inside of her locker door.

“Hey,” Brittany greets as she starts to put in her combo.

Santana glances at her through the corner of her mirror and spins. Her greeting dies when she sees what the blonde is wearing, “Didn’t know you were the type that slept in jeans, Pierce.”

Brittany smirks at the teasing tone, “Didn’t know you kept that uniform on all hours of the day either.”

“I don’t,” Santana answers in a tone Brittany isn’t familiar with. It has her peeking around her locker door to see if she can read what it might mean instead, but Santana’s expression changes to one of annoyance, “Coach doesn’t let the Cheerios participate in Pajama Day.”

Brittany frowns, “Why not? Aren’t you guys meant to be the most enthusiastic about it all?”

“I’m sure there’s some batshit crazy reason that makes zero sense,” Santana shrugs as she closes her locker, “Anyway, I can’t be late today so I’ll see you later.”

“Sure,” Brittany smiles, “I’ll see you later.”

When Santana sends a glance over her shoulder, Brittany thinks that maybe today will be a good one after all.

Brittany makes it to the end of the school day without a single incident.

No random interviews from JBI, the Hockey guys don’t show their faces, and the guys on the football team leave her alone at lunch. It’s oddly normal for a Monday after a loss, but Brittany doesn’t complain.

It’s not until after football practice that things start to change.

“I’ve noticed you don’t have any posters up,” Kurt says. Coach Beiste has just dismissed the team after a post-practice huddle.

“Posters for what?” Brittany wonders as she watches Coach Beiste and her assistant head for their office. She has a feeling that she knows what Kurt’s hinting at, but she plays coy.

“For Homecoming, obviously,” Kurt chuckles, “You’re a shoe in.”

Brittany shakes her head, “Yeah. I don’t really care about that stuff.”

Kurt looks shocked as he trails after Brittany towards the water station, “Well you should, it’s like on of the two biggest events at McKinley. The other being Prom, of course, but that’s months away.”

Brittany sips her water slowly before shaking her head again, “I just don’t have the time.”

“What if I made up something for you?”

Brittany’s surprised by his persistence, “Oh no, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Kurt offered. He glanced around at the guys grabbing water too and pulled Brittany to move further away from them, “I really admire you.”

Brittany’s flattered, but she stays silent as she crumples the paper cup and tosses in the trash before moving to get her duffle bag from the sideline.

“It’s usually a popularity contests between the Cheerios and jocks, but I think it would be a nice change to have someone like you win,” Kurt continues, “You’re the kind of representation people like us need.”

Brittany glances up, “People like us?”

“You know…” Kurt nods to her keychain.

Suddenly the dots are connecting for Brittany and she lets out a long sigh, “You know Kurt, I’m a lot more than my sexuality.”

“I know that,” Kurt replies and he looks genuine about it, “I know, but there are people in this school that are still afraid to be themselves and you’re obviously not like that. You just live in your truth and it’s truly inspiring. I didn’t think Lima would see the day to be honest, but you came in like a breath of fresh air.”

Again, Brittany feels her cheeks heating up at the compliment. She doesn’t see herself in the same light at all. She’s just Brittany. She goes through day treating people with kindness and tries to do what she thinks is right just like anyone else. She really isn’t that much different.

“I don’t know what it was like at your old school, but we’re just not there yet. People are as ignorant as ever here,” Kurt tells her and Brittany can immediately sense the frustration and hurt. He tries to mask it though, “Just the other day, Karofsky slushied me for wearing an ascot.”

Brittany stiffened, “He did what?”

Kurt eyed Brittany’s confusion and matched it, “Slushied me? It was actually pretty upsetting, that ascot was designer and the red dye completely ruined it.”

Brittany was still hung up on the fact that Kurt had a slushie thrown at him. She stood, her brows furrowing. She started to feel hot all over as Kurt continued to talk.

“Is that not something that happens where you came from?” He asks. Brittany shakes her head, “It happens all the time here. Most of the guys on the team have done it aside from like Sam, Mike and Matt.”

“Are you serious?” Brittany realizes the feeling is anger and it starts to consume her.

Kurt looks uncertain, “Yeah? They usually go after people they consider beneath them but I think it really just depends on their mood that day. If you even look at someone on the team wrong, you’re probably getting slushied. It’s happened to me so many times. Karofsky’s probably the worst one.”

“Fuck that,” Brittany snaps and storms straight over to Dave. He’s mingling with Azimio and some of the other guys on her O-Line when Brittany gives him a shove without thinking, “Hey!”

He barely moves but she’s gained everyone’s attention now and they all rush over.

“Woah!” The guys around him holler. Brittany doesn’t pay them any attention, she just keeps her eyes narrowed.

Karofsky looks her up and down, “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Must be a mood swing,” Azimio laughs.

Brittany ignores him, “Actually it’s the fact that my Right Guard thinks it okay to bully people.”

Dave’s brows shoot up, “What now?”

“Britt,” Kurt pleads from behind her, “Don’t. It’s fine.”

“No Kurt, it isn’t fine,” Brittany says firmly before she’s glaring at Dave, “It’s fucking ridiculous.” She looks around at the guys that have gathered around and targets each of them, “What’s wrong with you people? Kurt is your teammate!”

She sees Mike and Sam exchange a confused glance along with Finn. Puck’s smirking and Matt just stares blankly at the others around him. Everyone’s trying to fill in the blanks here.

“I’ve never met so many who are just blatantly ignorant,” Brittany snaps. She’s so fired up now, “It shouldn’t matter what anyone’s labels are, if they’re on this team you’re meant to have their back. That’s just common sense, human decency!”

Azimio scoffs, “Listen, he’s – “

“No, you listen,” Brittany growls as she steps up to him and pokes at his chest. She turns her glare onto everyone else, “You all listen. Kurt made it on this team – same as everyone else here – and you’ll treat him with some respect!”

“Is this about the slushies?” Finn mumbles through his dopey confusion.

Brittany looks at him in disbelief before turning to Mike, “How long has this been a thing?”

Mike goes to answer but Finn cuts him off, “Forever.”

“Slushie facials are like tradition,” Puck adds. He still has on that cocky smirk, “It’s how we uphold our badass reps.” He goes to high five the guy next to him while others on the team nod in agreement.

Brittany frowns at him – at them all, “Well not anymore. There’s nothing badass about being an asshole.”

Puck’s smirk drops; the rest of the team looks surprised by Brittany words too.

“It’s mean, it’s bullying and I’m not going to stand for it as long as I’m QB,” She says firmly.

“But that’s how it has always been,” Finn challenges, “You can’t just go changing tradition just because you don’t like it.”

Brittany wants to laugh. She wants to smack him upside the head and shake some sense into him but she’s not the violent type – not usually. If anything, she’s disappointed that someone so deluded has been in charge of leading a team for so long.

“Watch me,” Brittany threatens. She stands tall and keeps her eyes narrowed on him, “Just because something’s always been done one way doesn’t make it right. I’m not going to lead a team full of close-minded Neanderthals to a Championship victory.”

Puck scoffs, “You really want to talk about victories after the last game?”

Brittany quirks a brow, “Tell me, Puckerman, who was it again that put a touchdown on the board? The only one of the entire game?”

She can hear Sam snickering from beside her at the sight of Puck looking dumbfounded.

“That’s what I thought,” Brittany smirks before she’s eyeing everyone else again, “I’m glad we lost, maybe it’ll knock you all off your high horses.” She can see the eye rolls she gets for that comment but she stands her ground, “There’s nothing worse than an overly-confident team and that’s exactly what was happening here. You all let it get to your heads and it cost us the game.”

“That’s bullshit,” Karofsky waves off, “What would she know?”

“A lot, apparently,” Brittany argues, “I’ve won a Championship title already. Hell, I’ve won two!”

“Shit, really?” Matt’s impressed, but Azimio shoves at him to shut up.

“Yeah, so this is nothing new to me,” Brittany adds, “But for all of you – seniors without a single playoff appearance let alone a victory – you’re going to want to straighten up if you want me to stay.”

“I can’t believe we’re letting a girl lead us,” Azimio complains, “What is the world coming to?”

Sam looks puzzled, “Dude. Coach Beiste is a girl.”

“Shut up, Evans,” Karofsky orders, “You know what he meant.”

“This girl doesn’t have to lead you,” Brittany replies as she steps up to Azimio, “I’m more than happy to hand all of this over to Finn, you can let him be in charge again. I guarantee you that he’s not taking this team to the top, but if you’re fine being losers then that’s cool.”

Half of the team glance to Finn and it looks like they can’t help but to agree with Brittany. He’s had three years to prove himself and he’s gotten nowhere. Brittany broke the losing streak in her very first appearance as a Titan and it wasn’t even a regular season game yet, so what does that say?

“No more slushie facials or whatever you call it. Like I said, I’m not going to lead a team of close-minded bullies to the Championship game. You’re free to go if you don’t like that decision,” Brittany tells them without any room for argument then looks directly at Karofsky and Azimio, “I’m sure Coach wouldn’t mind losing the dead weight. So, who wants to go?”

Azimio rolls his eyes but relents, “Nah. I’m staying, I want to win.”

Karofsky looks furious still, but he relents as well with just a single nod to show Brittany he agrees with Azimio. The rest of the team nod too.

“Great,” Brittany gives the team a proud smile, “Glad we’re all on the same page now. See you tomorrow for practice.”

She walks off the field without another word while the team is still reeling behind her.

Tuesday morning starts off just the same as the morning before except this time she sees that the hallways have been covered in Homecoming Court campaign posters. Or maybe she was too lost in her thoughts yesterday to notice. The only people Brittany recognizes though are: Santana, Quinn and that guy Rick.

Brittany rolls her eyes at the last one; who would ever vote for that dickhead?

When Brittany gets to her locker, she finds that she has beaten Santana this time around. She’s busy trying to organize her books in her bag when she sees crisp white tennis shoes appear next to her.

“Nice shirt,” Santana compliments, “See you finally decided to participate and show some school spirit.”

Brittany blushes but tries to recover by giving back a little sarcasm, “Tie Dye Tuesday? How could I resist? It’s so original.”

Santana rolls her eyes though she smiles brightly. Brittany grins too and takes in the tie dye shirt Santana has on made up of red and black. Her eyes dip lower to find that Santana’s still wearing her Cheerios skirt underneath and it has her shaking her head.

“You really wear that uniform 24/7,” Brittany notes with a chuckle, “Do you ever take it off?”

“Nope,” Santana jokes, “It’s like a second skin to me now.”

“Gross,” Brittany scrunches her nose at the image before changing the subject, “I like your Homecoming Court posters by the way.”

“Thanks,” Santana smiles, “Nominations aren’t officially out yet, but Quinn and I are always on the ballot. Might as well get a head start.”

Brittany nods, “Well you’ve got my vote.”

“So I heard you threatened the entire football team yesterday,” Santana says instead of thanking her again.

Brittany bites her lip but she’s glad the locker door hides her from Santana for the moment, “News really does travel fast around here.”

“Not much usually happens,” Santana replies, “You’re really shaking things up.”

“Yeah, well…” Brittany sighs as she closes her locker, “It wasn’t really a threat. I just don’t like bullies.”

“I should watch out then,” Santana says as she closes her locker too. The way she’s smirking at Brittany has the blonde feeling drawn in.

“Why?” Brittany finds herself asking, “Are you a bully?”

“That’s what they say,” Santana lifts her shoulder casually before she’s batting her long lashes up at Brittany, “You gonna threaten me too?”

Brittany finds herself laughing; she can’t imagine threatening Santana.

“I don’t think I need to,” Brittany tells her behind a small smile, “You’re smart; you know what’s right and what isn’t.”

Santana just tilts her head to the side and stares. Her expression is hard to read, but there’s a hint of a smile there so Brittany knows she hasn’t crossed a line or said something wrong.

“I’ll see you later, Pierce,” Santana says just as the bell rings.

And just like always, Brittany nods and watches Santana disappear down the hall – a sea of students parting just for her.

By the end of the day, Brittany sits next to Santana in their final class listening to the afternoon announcements. It’s almost time for them to announce the nominations for Homecoming Court and Brittany can just feel the anticipation radiating off of Santana.

She looks a little nervous too which confuses Brittany. Earlier Santana said that she and Quinn always get nominated; why would she be worried now?

Still, Brittany doodles away in her notebook while Coach Sylvester starts to read off the names.

“Votes will be counted on the night of the Homecoming Dance by a team of respected officials so don’t even think about trying to vote twice. All illegal ballots will be tossed,” Coach Sylvester explains stiffly, “Here are the nominations for Homecoming Queen: Missy Gunderson, Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez.”

Brittany glances to her side to see the proud smile Santana tries to keep hidden.

“Congrats,” Brittany whispers to her.

“Thanks,” Santana whispers back before turning to face the board again, “Hopefully guys from the Titans get nominated too. No way I’m going with a Puck Head.”

Brittany nods; if anyone on the team is worthy enough to be nominated she’d pick Mike or Sam or Kurt but that might be a little bias since they’re her friends.

“No surprises there,” Coach Sylvester grumbles, “And finally the nominations for Homecoming King are as follows: Rick Nelson, Scott Cooper and Brittany S. Pierce…wait, how does that work?”

Brittany’s eyes go wide upon hearing her name – after the loss the Titans sustained on Friday, after her hard stance on slushie facials, after her lack of self-promotion…she still gets nominated? It doesn’t make any sense.

She doesn’t even hear the rest of the announcements – she’s that surprised.

“This has got to be a mistake,” Brittany murmurs out of disbelief.

“Perks of being the quarterback,” Santana says, “You were bound to get roped into something.”

#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction #QB!Britt #LITL

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theymakemegayer · 4 years ago

Text

Reputation: Chapter 2

author’s note: In a few hours we will have another QB update, and I have so many mixed emotions about the next chapter... Here’s something I hope can make you guys feel better.

PLEASE TAG POEPLE WHO WANTS TO READ POPPY X MC FICS. I know today’s update will mess up the tags for Poppy.

TW: for a little cursing, I tried to censored it tho

Chapter 1

********************************************************

After parting ways with Zoey, I enter my classroom for my first subject. My eyes scan the vacant seats. I had just put my laptop down when someone spoke behind me.

"Well, isn't this very exciting. Bea Hughes." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, turning around I was met with Chloe frowning at me.

"You've got to be kidding me. You again?"

"You think I enjoy seeing your face early in the morning? You must be still asleep and dreaming newbie." She crossed her arms in front of her.

I laughed humorlessly, "Don't try to be funny."

Her lips tugged into a smirk, "You know what would be funny right now?"

I raised my eyebrow, a part of me starting to get nervous. This was definitely bad news. Plastering a smile, she casually dumped her coffee on my laptop. My eyes grew wide. She laughed at my reaction.

I scowled at her, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

A voice interrupted us. "What is going on here?"

I turned around and my eyes landed on Ina standing at the top aisle, a briefcase in hand. Holy Shi-?

Chloe smiled at her, "Nothing Professor Kingsley. I'm just helping Bea clean up the coffee she spilled in her laptop. She is so clumsy."

My mind blacked out for a moment, all I can think about was Chloe calling her Professor. Like falling down on the ground and being slapped by reality, realization hit me.

"Y-you're my professor?" I managed to voice out.

Ina cleared her throat then plastered her professional smile. "If you're in my Behavioral Science in practice course then yes." Then she proceed on the podium ready to start the class.

I sat weakly trying not to look at Ina. I took a couple of breaths calming my racing mind and heart.

This should be some kind of joke right? I cast a look at her surprisingly she also looked at me at that moment. I avoided her gaze. I groaned internally. God this is so awkward and messed up.

After my grueling and awkward first period I rushed out of the classroom calling Zoey and wanting to meet her in our dorm.

I was already in our dorm building when someone called me out.

"Bea! Wait up!" I turned around and saw this random guy power walking towards me.

"That clapback against Poppy yesterday was all over my social media. It was epic!" He said once he was in front of me.

"Oh... thanks?"

"You don't know how much it means to me that someone is finally standing up towards Poppy. I'm totally on your side."

"Thanks. I'm happy to stand up too towards people like that."

He grinned, "I'm Benji by the way. Your residence advisor. If you ever need anything, I'll be here."

"Thanks Benji, but I need to go already." I glance at my wrist watch. "I need to meet up with a friend. It was nice meeting you Benji."

"Sure! it was nice talking to you, Bea." He said waving goodbye to me.

Once I arrived at our shared dorm memories of my dilemma and stress came back into me in full swing. I was pacing back and fort in our living room area when Zoey arrived.

"Hey you okay?" She slouched on the couch facing me.

"Zoey..." I pouted.

"What happened? It's sounded like some kind of emergency when you called."

I sighed and plopped down beside her. "It is." I huffed before telling her what happened.

"Okay you what now?" She exclaimed looking me dead in the eye.

"Ina... Professor Kingsley she was the one I met at the speakeasy last night." I groaned hiding my face on my hands.

"You guys kissed?"

"We made out to be exact. Thank God you called me last night Zo. I don't know how messed up it will be if I happen to sleep with her." I groaned again.

"You sure you don't like her Bea? Almost everyone in Belvoire has a crush on her. And you happen to even made out with her. Heck you were so close with sleeping with her too."

I groaned removing my hands on my face I looked at her in the eye, "Please don't remind me and Zo having a crush is different with practically making out with her."

"Oh then let me add that apart from having a crush I'm sure some of the students thirst for her."

I sighed, "Well yes Ina is attractive, but knowing that she's my professor. I just can't Zoey. Seeing her a while ago became so awkward to me."

Zoey wrapped me in her embrace. "Sorry I should have known you're really different from the people around here Bea."

"This scholarship I have is really important to me Zo. I can't afford to be this careless and lose this." My voice was muffled in her shoulders.

She caressed my back soothingly, "I'm sure you won't lose this. Have you talked to Professor Kingsley yet?"

Sighing I withdrew from our hug, "Not yet. I was so shock seeing her a while ago. I can't talk to her yet nor be left alone with her."

Zoey frowned, "You seem really stressed about this Bea. Wanna go out again tonight?"

I raised an eyebrow, "What's on your mind?"

She grinned, "Let's crush the Alpha House's Welcome Week Bash tonight! It'll help with your ranking, you'll have a good time and maybe will bump into Poppy there and piss her off."

The moment she mentioned Poppy, I swear I was already sold to crush this party, but of course I won't admit that to anyone specially not to Zoey. She'll get mad if she knew.

I beamed, "Okay you had me sold with pissing Poppy off. " A little lie won't hurt right?

**********************

We arrived at the party an hour ago. The only 'almost' mishaps we had was getting inside - which was an easy job if you had me and Zoey; with the right charm and words Michael let us in. The music was blasting loudly, the people occupied with different games and drinks, and the frat boys diving once in a while in the jello pool - the party was in full swing.

"Bea! Bea! Bea! Bea! Bea!" People chanted as I won another game. I grinned at them when a clap suddenly cut through the cheers.

"How lovely. Luis and his brothers already done with their charity work for this semester. Don't mistake it for kindness Farmsville."

I turn around at the sound of that voice and came face to face with Poppy. She's with Chloe and I think that was Veronica who was busy with her phone.

I rolled my eyes, "I was starting to think when you will show up and grace us with your presence, Poppy."

She rolled her eyes, "I must say hanging out with the boys is definitely a step up from this another nobody." She gestured dismissively towards Zoey without taking her eyes off me. "You know I think we can be friends Farmsville. You clearly learned how to dress up too." Her eyes roamed at me. Oh God. Please this is torture. I tried to school my expression even though my mind was about to explode. Her eyes finally landed on my face a smirk ghosting on her lips. Bea focus.

"And why would I want to be friends with a bully like you?" I crossed my arms staring at her hard.

"Because I ran this school. You have two options here, I can make your stay here like a living hell or..." She grinned sweetly, "I can make it heaven. All you have to do is leave the dead weight here." She smirked at Zoey who was glaring at her.

I frowned not liking how she addressed Zoey, "You know what Poppy? Zoey is better than you in every way." I step closer at her standing in my full height. "If you wanna be friends with me" I smirked, "Here is a little tip." I leaned closer and I swear did her breath hitched? I whispered, my breath tickling on her ears making sure she was the only one who can hear it, "I just need you to be Poppy, not Poppy Min-Sinclair or any of these masks you wear, just you." I leaned back and plastered my sweet, sweet smile as I watch Poppy's dumbfounded reaction - and something I can't name flickered in her eyes.

Not even a second passed when she scowled at me, "You wish Farsmville. We ran by my rules not yours."

I sighed dramatically, "Well it's your lost then." I stepped back and smirked at her.

She was about to speak again when Ford interrupted us , "Hold that thought." He ran towards the pool and dived.

Poppy shrieked darting away from the spraying jello. Carter - which I found out to be Poppy's boyfriend slung his arm around Poppy. "It's just a little jello babe. C'mon let's jump too! It'll be fun."

Wriggling free from Carter she glared at him, "Do I look like I am dressed for a swim on that colored sugar?"

"But -"

"Hang on!" Luis suddenly interrupted. "Sorry bro. I'm just thinking, Bea seems really cool I bet she'll love to join the fun and swim in the jello pool. What do you think?"

"I mean, I'm always up for new experiences." I stated with a grin.

"See! Come on Bea!" Luis cheered.

Grinning as an idea popped in my head I yelled, "Poppy hold your breath!"

Shocked she spoke, "Why would-"

But before she can even finished her sentence I was running towards her and pushed her towards the pool. She shrieked, "BEA HUGHES!"

"Can't let her have all the fun." As I leaped in the jello pool I can hear people cheering, a bubble of happiness surged through me.

When I finally got up I saw Poppy completely mufunctioning, "There's like jello... in every crevice of my body."

I inched closer to her, "Was jello pool that bad?" I laughed when she threw me a glare.

"This is your fault Farmsville."

I raised my hands in mock surrender, "Hey I just wanted you to let lose a little."

"Stop talking to me." She growled. Oops is she really pissed off now?

"Cannon ball!" Luis yelled only dressed in his underwear as he dove spluttering more jello towards Poppy and me.

Poppy shrieked again. I can hear Chloe desperately saying, "Somebody help her. She has a jello phobia." While Michael laughed, "Nice look Pops! The green really brings out your eyes."

Poppy screamed finally reaching her limit. Carter finally helped her out of the pool bringing her some towel.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU ALL." She yelled one last time before sprinting inside, while Chloe and Veronica followed her.

Feeling a little guilty I decided to get out from the pool to dry myself up.

"Bea!" Zoey called out for me. I sat at the edge of the pool and she swam closer to me. She smirked, "Love how you pissed off Poppy."

I smiled at her trying to bury the feeling of heaviness inside of my chest. "And I love how pretty you look right now."

Zoey laughed, "Flutterer."

At the corner of my eyes I saw Veronica and Chloe entering again. Okay, where's Poppy? It was probably not helping at all that Carter just dove passed us towards the jello pool. Oh damn it.

"Hey Zoey. I just need a little bathroom break." I stood up carrying the towel with me. "I'll be back." I winked at her before power walking inside the house.

I almost gave up on finding where Poppy might be when I stumbled on the garage. She was standing - her back facing me and mumbling to herself. "I hate that Farmsville." She groaned.

I suppressed my smile before speaking, "Don't you think hate is a strong word to use?"

She whipped her head around so fast and threw a glare at me once she saw me. "What are you doing here Farmsville?" She said through gritted teeth.

"I can be anywhere I want you know. You don't own this." I gesture on the garage where we are.

"Didn't you pissed me enough today? Do you really want a death sentence so bad?" She glared at me.

I laughed and raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll stop teasing. I just stumbled here, I swear."

She raised an eyebrow, "Then get lost. I don't want to talk nor see your face."

I crossed my arms, "What are you even doing here alone though?"

"I'm waiting for my driver. I'm going home since I feel so grossed out thanks to you. Now will you leave me alone."

Instead of following what she said, I stepped closer towards her.

"Are you deaf? I said get lost."

I lifted my hand holding out the towel I had in me and ignored her as I wiped out some jello remains on her hair. She flinched the first time the towel touched her hair.

"Relax. I swear I was just cleaning a jello out of your hair." I mumbled.

She remained silent which was surprising, so I look at her and that was when I realized I was standing too close to her. My hand stopped wiping her hair in mid-air and my eyes grew wide at the realization. Poppy was looking at me intently. Her eyes wasn't glaring at me, but it was searching for something in me. I can feel the heat creeping on my cheeks because of the way she looked at me.

"W-What?" I stuttered stupidly.

"Why are you doing this Newbie?" She whispered like her question itself was not meant to be heard by anyone, but I heard it - I heard her. The tone of her voice was softer and clearer than her usual tone.

I gulped, "I'm doing nothing. What do you mean?"

"You..." She was still looking at me before sighing and averting her eyes from me. "Whatever. Forget I asked anything."

She took a step back and turned her back towards me. "Just answer this one thing."

"Yeah?" I spoke my voice quivered a little as I fidgeted with the towel in my hands.

"Did you mean what you said earlier? That tip. You only need me to be Poppy and you will be my friend?"

I grinned as warmth blossomed in my chest, "Yeah."

At that moment Poppy's car arrived. A man opened the door for her. Before stepping inside Poppy halted like she wanted to say something. She shook her head a little before finally entering the car. What were you gonna say? I tried to bury that curiosity as I watch her car leave. I finally let out the breath I wasn't aware I was holding back.

"Today had been weird." I mumbled as I started walking back inside.

#poppy x mc #queen b poppy #poppy min sinclair #makepoppyali2020 #fanfic #queen b

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american-satanxx · 5 years ago

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Just Patrick!

Author’s note: Keep sending your requests in!

This is pure fluff and I don’t care.

I’m sitting at my desk at work, Lady Gaga plays softly in the background as I mindlessly go through the pile of paperwork that has been accumulating on my desk since the playoffs started. Thankfully I have an amazing boss that allowed me to travel with Patrick to watch him play in every playoff game and eventually the Super Bowl.

Dating Patrick Lavon Mahomes II isn’t easy. Not by the long shot. But it’s definitely something I’ll never give up. I knew what I signed up for when we started dating our senior year in college.

“Hey [y/n]!” My boss exclaims as she peeks her head into my office. “How’s the Super Bowl Champ doing at home? Is he finally relaxing?”

“Patrick doesn’t relax.” I chuckle. “But I think he’s enjoying his break for once. He’s not constantly going over plays unlike that last couple years.”

“Tell him, we’re all proud of him.” She smiles. “I don’t know how you do it. I wouldn’t be able to be away from my husband so many days out of the year. I’m impressed by your self control. I wouldn’t be able to trust my husband. And he’s not as young and attractive as he once was. Your boy is a looker.”

“He is.” I smile. “And he’s loyal. He’s not like other guys his age. He’s not going to go after a girl because she’s hot and willing. We’ve dated since college, I knew exactly what I was signing up for.”

“Even then you knew he was going to be this superstar?”

“Even then.” I nod my head. “You don’t know Patrick like I do. Now can you please let me get back to work? I’ve got a boy and two dogs waiting for me at home.” She nods her head and quickly leaves my office, probably since how pissed I was getting about her and her comments about my relationship.

Just as I’m about to clock out for the day, my phone vibrates on my desk. I look at the phone and see a notification from Jackson, Patrick’s brother. I open the text and see a picture of Patrick with our dogs, Steel and Silver. Steel is sitting behind Patrick while Silver is practically laying directly on top of her dad. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. I needed this picture, I’m sure Jackson sensed that too.

‘Thanx Jackson. Be home soon.’ I quickly type before logging out of work and off my computer. I gather my purse and car keys in record time before I find myself making a beeline to my car. I completely ignore everyone as I do so. It’s Friday night, I’m done with work. Their problems can wait til Monday and I don’t care to hear about their plans. I just want my boy and our dogs.

I walk through the door and I’m instantly greeted by the Cane Corso and Pit Bull. In the living room I hear the yells of Patrick and Jackson; they must be playing Madden. I roll my eyes before kneeling before the dogs.

“What am I going to do with your Daddy, huh?” I ask the dogs. But instead of a real answer, I’m just attacked by kisses from the two of them. “He needs a vacation from football.” I kick off my heels before padding into the living room to find out I was right. They’re playing Madden.

“Hey that’s cheating!” I exclaim, announcing my presence. “Patrick why the fuck are you playing with yourself?” He rolls his eyes at my playful and immature joke before throwing a pillow in my direction. “INTERCEPTION!” I yelll when I catch it. This caues Patrick and Jackson to laugh. I toss the pillow back on the couch before walking up and planting a kiss on Patrick earning a groan from the QB.

“You’re blocking my game.” Patrick mutters against my lips before he steals another kiss.

“You don’t seem to mind too much, huh babe?” I pull away with a smirk on my lips. “So who’s winning?” I ask the boys as I sit on the couch, curling up against Patrick. Jackson has a big smile on my lips as Patrick begrudgingly points to his little brother. “How is an NFL Quarterback losing to his baby brother?” I question Patrick, laughing my ass off.

“Do you want to play?” He questions, handing over the controller. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“What do I get if I beat your brother?” I ask him, taking the controller from his hands.

“My respect?” He laughs, earning a playful glare from me. “And unlimited back rubs for the next week.”

I bite my lip, as I pretend to think about the offer before a smile dances across my lips. “You’re on. Come on Jackson, give me all you got!”

Dating Patrick Lavon Mahomes II is difficult but moments like these make me remember why I said yes to a superstar in the making. He’ll always be this down to earth guy that puts time with loved ones above everything else. He may have a Super Bowl ring but he’s still just Patrick to me.

#Patrick Mahomes #Patrick Mahomes x reader #Patrick mahomes imagine #Patrick Mahomes fanfiction #nfl #nfl imagines #nfl fanfiction

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squidbatts · 5 years ago

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i'm not just a boy (i'm a-)

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, Master of the Hangman, conqueror of Kalvaxis.

or: of fear, duskmoss, and the forest of the nightmare king

((happy fh day, i wrote this while i was crying watching the episode so it Is canon divergent, but i related to fabian’s fears a bit too much to Not write about it))

{ao3}

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, master of the Hangman, conqueror of Kalvaxis.

You take a deep breath as Gorgug lights up the duskmoss, burying your want to chase after Riz because you think that this is the point of the forest, that this is what’s supposed to happen; it scares you, one of your crew running into the forest alone, even more than it scared you when Ragh disappeared. You think that worrying about Riz or Gorgug or Fig or Adaine or Kristen more than your other friends, the hirelings that you dragged on this quest with you, might make you a bad person. You can’t particularly find it in yourself to care.

You feel the smoke settle in your lungs, the fullness of it filling your chest. You hold it in, closing your eyes almost reflexively as it burns in your throat. Something inside you, base and afraid, remembers dragon fire on prom night, the feel of Adaine shaking against your back as you try to outrun Him on the Hangman. You shake the thoughts out of your head and breathe out.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, Master of the Hangman.

You take another breath in, looking at your friends around you. Their presence is comforting, even though you can nearly feel the air between you all thrumming with nerves.

This summer, when Fig and Gorgug were on tour and Riz was doing detective stuff with the Elmville police and Adaine was working through things with Jawbone, you spent a lot of time alone, and then, a lot of time with the Hangman. You rode around on him to get information about Aelwen and to set up a crew, obviously, but even besides that, there was a lot of free time that led to you jumping on him and going. Going to half-pipes and highways, to bank around sharp corners and through narrow alleyways, to feel the wind on your face as you let your motorcycle run wild; going fast enough that your loneliness and your stress and your worries about your papa couldn’t catch you.

It was a summer of only you, escaping with the Hangman every second that you weren’t training with your mama. Just a fighter and his demonic mount.

You think, as you breathe out, that it suited you, honestly. You still would rather not be alone.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Augefort Owlbears.

Ragh calls you “his QB” sometimes.

You know that’s what he called Dayne, you heard him yell it in the halls often enough to recognize it. You also know that it should unsettle you, that you should ask Ragh to stop or remind him that Dayne fucking Blayde was a douchebag and that you deserve your own moniker, unsullied by having belonged to him as well. You hope that you’re not becoming like Dayne, apathetic and cruel in turns, making people around you hide themselves in order to avoid your ire. It’s a terrifying idea, to become a nightmare creature with blank scarecrow eyes and a cold, shriveled heart.

Still, there’s something about Ragh being so excited that makes you keep all these worries deep inside.

You take a deep breath, feeling your ribs move as your lungs expand. You know that you’ll let Ragh keep calling you his.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids.

You’re not the boss of the Bad Kids. You're all "co-leaders," really, and you make decisions together, for the best of the group. It works best this way, you think. The Bad Kids, your friends, aren’t afraid of you like your papa’s crew was afraid of him, not even a bit. You inhale and remember toddling around the original Hangman, a tiny half-elf with a too-big sword and a sharp need to be great enough for his papa’s legend. The crew smiled after you, but none of them ever got too close for fear of your papa’s mercurial moods.

It was a weird childhood, being the only kid on a ship of pirates, surrounded only by potential playmates that were decades older than you and the unforgiving sea.

In retrospect, you decide that you don’t like to think about it, actually. The past is best left in the past, isn't it?

Fig looks at all of you with dilated pupils and says that she’s going to cast a spell, a third-level Fear to help you all reach the center of the forest just a bit faster. Your hand shakes as you take off your father’s eyepatch and purposefully fail your saving throw. You exhale. You trust the rest of the Bad Kids implicitly.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda.

William Seacaster didn’t have any parents.

Or, well, that’s not true, you know that’s not true, because surely he had someone once upon a time, but your father never talked about his own parents.

In the distance, what feels like miles away, Gorgug says something about being afraid and coming for Kristen. You chant along, barely registering the words that you’re saying as you think about how your mama didn’t ever talk about her family either, really, besides one day when she looked at you, eyes strangely clear even as she took a deep gulp of her wine, and said “My father would love to meet you.”

She never introduced you to him back then, landlocked as the forests of the Lomenelda are; the Hangman went many places in your youth, but the Seacaster family wandered only the seas of Spyre, your ship going where the tide and the whispers of riches took you. Once, you thought you saw your mama twisting and twirling on the deck, spinning herself into a tornado under the pale light of the moon. Her hands opened and closed, clutching for something beyond the reach of even a woman as well connected as the beloved wife of the feared pirate Bill Seacaster. You feel like you were never meant to see her like that, but you still can’t keep the image out of your head in quiet, dark moments.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster.

Your parents love you.

You’re certain of that, you know that they’ve said it, that you’re their darling boy, that your mama is trying and your papa is dead and your mom is-

Wait. That’s not right.

Your mama is trying, your papa is dead, and Cathilda has always been there for you. Cathilda will always be there for you. You have a father and a mother and a Maid, that’s more than enough, as long as you have them. None of them are in this forest, confusing and dark, with you, though.

You take a deep breath in, the woodsy air filling your body. You look down at yourself, how you fade in and out of visibility. You watch as Adaine disappears between one blink and the next, as Fig tells Gorgug, “We need to find Adaine and Riz and Kristen” and doesn’t mention you at all.

When your hand goes through Gorgug’s shoulder, it’s almost a relief.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

You- You have a family. You have friends. You’re pretty sure that both of these statements are true.

You go to school, probably, unless… unless you live in this forest, in this grim place. You can’t imagine that there’s a school in here and, if you live here, then you must not go to school. Something, in the back of your mind, says that you don’t belong here, but you can’t remember anything before this, so you’re fairly certain that this is your world: you and the grass and the trees, you and the forest, you and nothing.

You take a seat on the cold ground as the world spins around you. You don’t think that the grass even bends against your weight.

Your name is…

Uh.

You know this. This is an easy one. Your name is...

It’s-

Fuck.

You’re-

You're... scared. It comes on you, suddenly, between one breath and the next, and you are so, so scared, more afraid than you ever have been. You don’t really remember being afraid, before, but you know this fear that holds tight to something in your chest is worse than anything you’ve ever felt before, and you hate it. You don’t know why and you don’t know how to stop it. You only know that it’s awful, terrible, and that you must feel it.

You are in a forest. The light is dim and the edges of the path are blurred by overgrown plants. You do not know your own name. You think you must have a name; everyone does, you know that at least.

You are sure you have a name.

You’re also sure, as you look at the blurred and pale outline of your own form, it probably doesn’t matter much anymore, to anyone.

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #fantasy high spoilers #one shot

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 5 years ago

Note

Got any fics where they start out as friends with benefits/f*** buddies but then catch feels? Bonus for friends that could have told them this ages ago!

Friends With Benefits is my guilty pleasure. I have 22 Klaine fic recs under the cut. - HKVoyage

Friends With Benefits by liz-loz

Kurt is a high-flying fashion adviser with an expensive New York flat and a supermodel boyfriend. Blaine is a rough, blunt struggling musician barely living off his wages, but getting LOTS of one thing. How will the two meet and what will become of them?

~~~~~

I’ve been waiting for you by WildHurricane

Kurt and Blaine are casual friends who sleep together occasionally. It’s an arrangement that suits Kurt perfectly. Until one day when he realizes his feelings run much deeper than he wants them to. That’s when he realizes something else, too. He doesn’t really know Blaine or if he’s the only man in Blaine’s life. Should he tell him and risk losing the great, uncomplicated thing they have or go on pretending nothing has changed and hope his feelings will fizzle out?

~~~~~

In College You Know Who You Are by honorarymaraudr

This was written as a response to a prompt on the kink meme: “Kurt goes to college in NYC while Finn goes to college at OSU. Once in a while he goes back to Ohio and visits Finn on campus, where he meets Blaine during a party. The two hit it off immediately but are not looking for a relationship for whatever reason but both have needs, so they settle for a one night stand. Kurt keeps running into Blaine every time he comes back to Ohio (either intentionally or not ;)) and they quickly become friends with benefits. They also have phone/Skype sex and eventually hang out more together outside of the bedroom whenever Kurt is in town, until they realize they might want their relationship to be more than just physical. :)”

Download the EPub or PDF here.

~~~~~

You Said There’s Tones Of Fish In The Water. by meganisaloser

Friends with benefits only lasted so long before the long, tiring and damn right amazing road of love became their pathway.

~~~~~

It Feels Like Just Having Fun by @hildigunnurf

AU. When Rachel backs out of hers and Kurt’s agreement to rent an apartment together in New York, Kurt has to find a place to live fast. What he finds, is a handsome and older roommate and a sexual awakening.

~~~~~

A Place That’s Safe and Warm by @honeysucklepink

Writer and blogger Blaine Anderson just wanted to have a few drinks, hook up with his friend Kurt, and pretend for a little while that his adopted city of Boston hadn’t been attacked. He meant to make a quiet exit the morning after, but overbearing parents, a cranky roommate, and the justice system had other plans.

~~~~~

Should’ve Known Better by brokenlovesong

Based on tumblr gif set: “Coach Sylvester finds out what exactly her Cheerio co-captains Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson get up to in their spare time.” They agreed that it should just be sex, no strings attached. But is it really possible to keep sex and feelings aside when you’re spending most of your time naked with your co-captain?

~~~~~

Stay With Me by @scatter-the-stars

Blaine has found the ideal apartment. There’s two problems. One, he needs a roommate to help with the rent. Two, only married couples can live in the building. The last thing he expects is for Kurt to step in and help him. It turns out living with Kurt helps him realize feelings he didn’t know he had. And sleeping with him doesn’t make things better.

~~~~~

This Side by flyblckbirdfly

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends since the day Kurt stopped Blaine on the stairs at Dalton, but never anything more. This is why Blaine is more than a little shocked when Kurt suggests that they lose their virginity to one another before they head off to New York for college.

Download the PDF or EPUB

~~~~~

You Got Me Singing In The Shower by @caramelcoffeeaddict

Kurt Hummel hated the communal bathrooms in his dorm. That is…until he met Blaine Anderson there.

~~~~~

You Said There’s Tones Of Fish In The Water by meganisaloser

AU Klaine: Kurt and Blaine are close, closer than friends, but not as close as love. FireFighter!Blaine

~~~~~

(un)requited by @klaineanummel

Kurt has watched Blaine fall in love with the wrong guy for years now. He knows Blaine will never fall for him, but when Blaine falls into his bed, he can’t exactly say no. After all, he’d rather have this with Blaine than nothing at all.

~~~~~

Take Me To The Other Side by JudeAraya

No heavy Kadam or Seblaine at all. In fact, Sebastian doesn’t even make an appearance other than reference. The long and the short of it is that I love Klaine and wanted to write them having lots of banter, sex, and learning about each other in new ways. There is no cheating, no angst, no jealousy.

~~~~~

Don’t make me over by @klaineanummel

Kurt thinks today will just be an average day; he’ll go to work, he’ll pine for his friend-with-benefits Blaine (who he desperately wants to become more), and he’ll remind his boss for the millionth time that he doesn’t want to be set up with her son. It goes pretty much as he expects… well, sort of.

~~~~~

Head Over Feet by @istytehcrawk

When the guy you have been crushing on for years and been best friends with for months invites you to his bed, no strings attached, you go. You go, and you deal with the emotional fallout later.

One shot in the Verse: Now and Forever

~~~~~

All This Time by silverdragon87

Kurt and Blaine have been roommates for nearly a year and a half. They’ve been fooling around with each other for almost as long and it’s always been enough for them, or has it?

~~~~~

Crossing The Line by BregoArodShadowfax

Written for a GKM prompt. Blaine and Kurt meet in college when they share a dorm room together. Both of them are hiding their sexuality, but since neither is getting any action elsewhere, they enter into a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. Eventually it goes a little too far to be just ‘bros helping bros’ and the truth has to come out. Klaine.

~~~~~

Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You by @klaineanummel

Blaine doesn’t really care what Sam and Tina think about his friends with benefits relationship with his older sister’s best friend is what it really comes down to.

~~~~~

I Know What I Need by @caramelcoffeeaddict

Kurt and Blaine are college roommates. Both boys have girlfriends and think they’re straight. One night, after both of them suddenly find themselves single, they get drunk and turn to each other to abate their sexual appetites.

~~~~~

Restraint by scarlettfire

With nowhere to go for the winter holidays, Blaine accompanies his college roommate Finn home, where he meets the most beautiful boy. The attraction flares hot and fast. Whether it’ll stay is the question.

~~~~~

Sex Education by beautifulwhatsyourhurry

Kurt decides he wants to be a little more informed on all this sex stuff. Blaine, as a nice, thoughtful friend, offers to teach him. Hands on.

Not Exclusive by nellie12

Finn happens to be doing well for himself in the University of Florida. He is starting QB for the Gators, and he’s a member of Phi Beta Kappa, and his grades aren’t terrible. He also has his favorite step-brother coming to visit from New York, and Kurt has no idea he’s about to have the Spring Break of a lifetime until he meets Finn’s best friend and frat mate- Blaine Anderson.

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romefm · 5 years ago

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i’m like 95% sure i have an assignment due tomorrow and it’s already midnight ........ so naturally i’m procrastinating so my world title of Captain Dumbass doesn’t ever come into question 👸👸 this is recycled bc i’m chronically incapable of effort but tl:dr he’s literally the embodiment of every shitty dude u have the misfortune of running into at �� the bar :/ but he’s held a door open for an old lady 1.5 times in his life so all is forgiven 😉

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 here and do i have the tea for you . rome is back on campus , which is surprising considering the threatening note i left them . yes , i know all about him crashing his car while drunk and attempting to flee the scene because of their pride. imagine the tabloids and how the pierce family would feel for such information to come out , not to mention the reputation of pike because of their actions . at this rate , he is better off staying put in atlanta , georgia and living off that 500m family net worth. what’s the point in studying psychology with plans to play in the nfl , is it worth it with what i know ? anyways , they may want to continue to be protective & lion-hearted because the irascible & machiavellian attributes make me want to spill .

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 : roman gabriel pierce

𝖆𝖌𝖊 : twenty - one

𝖉𝖔𝖇 : june 15th , 1998

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : he / him

𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 & 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 6‘2″ 🤡

𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: having graduated from the title of white man’s wh*re , he is now cordially referred to as the white man’s beefcake . he treats gym sessions like a therapy visit , clocking in at a friendly 220 lbs . like all gym rats w/o a personality , he keeps his hair short on the sides n longer on top , a la this look . he has a scar running along the inside of his right arm from when he broke it , and another that splits his left eyebrow from his eighteenth birthday

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : resident waste of space , quarterback for the hollingsworth mumbles ( update : it’s panthers ... they’re the panthers ) , least favorite son of the year recipient 1998 - 2019 .

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 : atlanta , georgia .

ii.

second son of hall of fame ex falcons qb , miles pierce , and entrepreneur and daughter of a famed manhattan - based art collector , amélie pierce – rome’s future was pretty non - negotiable since day one . as soon as they could stumble around enough to pass for walking , miles had his sons enrolled in as many football programs as he legally could .

when rome was young , he loved it . the attention , the praise he received for his quickness despite being one of the smallest kids on the field . plus , going to his father’s games and being recognized as miles pierce’s kids was also fun . soon came time for the inevitable retirement on the heel of a downward - trending career , and after that things … changed .

suddenly , it was less praise and more demands . earlier practices , with his father making rome and his brother run drills until they were sick . suddenly , things that were previously good weren’t good enough , despite how much better his sons continued to be .

as anyone with half a brain could guess , these pressures eventually began to take their toll . with interests in anything else repressed by his father’s insistence that football is and always will be the most important thing in life , rome began to emulate his father’s aggressive attitude , first bringing it to the field and then , more notably , to his personal life . failed relationships , fights at school , sneaking home late absolutely blitzed out of his mind – none of the behaviors were healthy , but they were enough to take the weight of his father’s hands off of his shoulders , if only for a moment . until papa helicopter parent found out , that is .

tw abuse : despite his sons catering to his every will , miles’ incessant anger began to worsen , and soon a lot of the verbal abuse had started to become physical , too . sure , rome knew that it was wrong , but he also thought that maybe if he’d been better in the game last night , or worked harder at practice , maybe he’d stop .

he made varsity his freshman year of high school and took his team to the state championships , expecting his dad to finally approve of something he’d done . instead , he came home to the news that his mother was leaving – that his parents were splitting up and that this had been a long time combing . safe to say this mama’s boy ass bitch was devastated.

tw death : his dad only sunk deeper into his madness , but all that anyone else could see is that rome was throwing further , moving faster , and making better plays . a non - football related injury left him with a broken arm , and it was on the way home from the hospital that his father received the call that his ex - wife had taken her own life . devastated part ii , coming soon to a theater near you !

tw drugs , alcohol , general debauchery : the partying worsened . rome had entered a phase in his life where he was looking for something – anything to completely wipe his mind of any and all thoughts . the drugs , the alcohol , it was all a coping mechanism , but it definitely wasn’t a healthy one . soon , his brother left for college thousands of miles away , and rome found out that that fifth of rum goes down a lot easier after doing a few lines beforehand .

he chose to go to college in cali not because he wanted to , but because his dad knew that hollingsworth was a great school for scouting attention . in his midst of an extended bender compounded by having training now twice a day everyday on top of college courses , he decided to join pike – and he absolutely loves it .

he chose to major in psych because he wants to understand why his dad hates him so much skjfjks dumb b*tch .

also last summer he may or may not have allegedly accidentally wrapped his masterati around a telephone pole and gotten a dui . in reality , it was his brother’s accidental doing after a rather... heated argument between the two , but roman told him to gtfo and he’d take the fall because his bro finally managed to escape his dad and rome didn’t want him to suffer the same fate . it made headlines , but his dad pulled approximately 6 billion strings to get him conditionally reinstated to the team .

spent the summer before his junior year chillin in rehab , but he relapsed shortly after . consistency is key here , kids.

still bender - adjacent , but he’s kept it more lowkey because the nfl draft is coming in hot .

iii.

he really ………….. kinda sux , objectively sfdkjsdfjk . personality-wise and bc he has a southern accent .

he has so , so much pent up frustration and anger directed at his father and himself that it manifests in some pretty shitty behaviors .

he’s definitely controlling ( as a consequence of having v v little control over his own life ) , and he’ll manipulate any situation he deems worthy of his effort just to assure that he isn’t in any state of vulnerability .

i know yall get it , he vapes , but he’s definitely the kind of guy to try to keep the party running til 5 am and get pissed when people tell him that maybe he should stop .

he will provoke anyone and anything ( even inanimate objects ) if found in a self - destructive enough mood .

has a notoriously short temper , but what kind of gym rat doesn’t .

manages to still attain a 4.0 ( and in his words , psych is easy ) , so that’s another thing that makes it difficult for him to understand that his lifestyle is … per se … problematique .

10000% has sent a plethora of u up ? texts

kinda gets a little .. hm .. sad sometimes but that’s only after everyone bails from the party n he’s left alone in a dirty ass frat house sdkfsdjk

definitely an irredeemable trash bag and pls don’t think of him any other way

is definitely fiercely loyal to the 2.5 people who can tolerate him .

currently in an uber ride to hell , but 10/10 hit the option so that his uber driver can’t talk to him 🤡

#listen IIIIIIIIIIII didnt even read this when writing it so i honestly don't expect yall to either ksnfsnkdf #holling:intro

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pbwsports · 5 years ago

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Is Tua Tagovailoa ready to become Miami's biggest star since Dan Marino?

Leaps into swimming pools. Emotional moments of jubilation. Tears of joy. Fifteen words delivered by NFL commissioner Roger Goodell -- "With the fifth pick in the 2020 NFL draft, the Miami Dolphins select Tua Tagovailoa" -- elicited all that plus a belief the moment will change the Dolphins' franchise forever.

Over the past month, there has been an innate buzz burgeoning nationally, but especially in South Florida, that can be summed up as a Tua frenzy. An 11-minute fan-generated YouTube video provides a visual.

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"Tua is far by himself -- never seen anything like this buzz from a draft pick here. There's no close second," said Dolphins color commentator and radio host Joe Rose, who played for the franchise alongside Pro Football Hall of Fame quarterback Dan Marino from 1983 to 1985. "We have a rock star here in Tua. This team has been in mediocrity for so long. It's lacked the Dan Marino star power, the Ricky Williams star power. Tua's the next guy in that group."

Despite the love, it's too early to crown Tagovailoa. He hasn't even played an NFL game. Tagovailoa's arrival is defined by hope and hype.

Even in his first month as a Dolphins quarterback, it is clear that if Tagovailoa lives up to expectations, he will be the face of South Florida sports for a while.

How will Tagovailoa manage the pressure, the buzz, overwhelming positivity, eventual negativity and everything that comes with being hailed as the next big thing in a city starving for its latest sports superstar?

"The great thing for Tua is Dan Marino retired 20 years ago," Hall of Fame quarterback Warren Moon said. "So it's not like he's following right behind a legend like Aaron Rodgers following Brett Favre or whoever follows Tom Brady. He just has to be himself. He can't be Dan Marino. Just be yourself and rely on the people around you."

'It's going to be Dolphins town'

A Mount Rushmore of athletes who have led South Florida pro teams probably starts with Marino and the Miami Heat's Dwyane Wade, but the initial expectations weren't as high with either legend.

Wade remembers it wasn't until after he led the Heat to their first championship in 2006 that he became the face of South Florida sports. He returned to Miami and hopped in his convertible with a buddy. Fans sighted him and rushed the car. He couldn't drive another block.

"I looked at my friend and said, 'Yo, this is different,'" Wade said. "I enjoyed it. But I knew it would never be normal in this city from that point on. I had to get used to being a celebrity. The perks were great, but the non-privacy was not so great."

"Wade County" was born and didn't slow down. His presence remains large in Miami, but since he retired following the 2018-19 season, there has been an active-superstar void.

Enter Tagovailoa.

"He's a hell of a player. Miami, especially at the QB position, really needs that. They need a leader. They need a player," Wade said. "To come in as a young player and win a game in the second half of a national championship game -- that shows some grit, that shows some balls. People have to really believe in you. Miami needs that. The Dolphins need that. Even though I'm a [Chicago] Bears fan, I was rooting for them to get him because Miami needs to get back to where the basketball program is."

Wade's advice to Tagovailoa centers on how to handle fame; the future Hall of Fame guard says he would often deal with anxiety when he left the house. He felt the need to always be on as D-Wade even when he wanted to just be Dwyane. Wade said even though he wasn't expected to "save the franchise," once he became a fan favorite, he had to "figure out how to enjoy what you worked hard for, but keep a level of sanity at the same time."

The last 5th overall pick to Miami did some cool things. Congrts @Tuaamann can’t wait to watch your journey.

3,032 people are talking about this

Wade is optimistic Tagovailoa will lift the Dolphins to a place they never reached while he was with the Heat.

"If the Dolphins get it going, it's going to be Dolphins town. We did as much to make it a basketball town as possible, and Miami Heat is there to stay. But let's not get it twisted: Florida is football. Once they get their s--- together, they are going to be big and bigger," Wade said. "But those Heat guys -- Bam [Adebayo], Tyler Herro -- are going to battle him for it. He's got to earn it.

"How you put yourself in that conversation is doing something great, something that people have never seen before, and obviously winning."

Marino was a 'rock star'

Tagovailoa passed his first test by eschewing his college No. 13 -- Marino's number in Miami. Instead, Tagovailoa is paving his own path by becoming the first Dolphins QB to wear No. 1.

"I understand No. 13 is retired, and it should be. Dan Marino, he's the GOAT. He's like the mayor out there, and I have much respect for him," Tagovailoa said. "I just want to have the opportunity to go out there and compete."

2020 NFL offseason

Every quarterback who has arrived in Miami has been met with some mention of Marino, and Miami has started 21 quarterbacks since the Hall of Famer retired in 2000. The Dolphins haven't had a Pro Bowl QB since then, which marks the NFL's longest streak.

So while the expectations might seem unwieldy for a 22-year-old quarterback coming off a serious hip injury, this isn't just any NFL city. He's coming to a franchise that is thirsty for a star QB, and fans have been waiting on Tagovailoa for more than a year.

"When I got down there, the Miami Dolphins were Dan Marino's town and team. It's still that way," former Dolphins great Ricky Williams said. "I was a running back, but no one has even come close to eclipsing the success that Dan had in Miami as a quarterback. Even more so than what I experienced, Tua has the potential to be a big part of what it means to be a Miami Dolphin for a long time."

Williams had a great run as the face of the Dolphins. Jason Taylor, Zach Thomas and Ryan Tannehill did, too. But none of them have the national pull Tagovailoa has now.

Tua Tagovailoa is a star in Miami already.

147 people are talking about this

Rose says he remembers the buzz around Marino being relatively subdued when he arrived. The Dolphins, coming off a Super Bowl XVII loss, were led by their "Killer B's" defense, and they selected Marino with the No. 27 overall pick when he fell to them in the 1983 draft.

By the end of his record-setting 1984 MVP season, Marino was a superstar.

"When we went to New York, I saw the phone calls we got in our hotel room. I saw what movie stars and celebrities came around. People wanted to be around this guy," Rose said. "We didn't have the media and social media that they do now, so it could be a lot more hidden. He was big stuff. He was a rock star."

Marino is the standard, but Tagovailoa doesn't have to reach that level to be remembered in Dolphins history. As Moon and Wade have stressed, he just has to focus on being himself.

Why D-Wade is looking to Tua to be the leader the Dolphins need

Dwyane Wade expresses his thoughts on the Dolphins drafting Tua Tagovailoa and gives some advice for playing in the city of Miami.

Work, gain respect, then build the brand

Moon knows all about highly anticipated arrivals. After five Grey Cup titles in the Canadian Football League, Moon signed with the Houston Oilers and became the NFL's highest-paid player in 1984.

With stars such as running back Earl Campbell and linebacker Robert Brazile already in Houston, Moon was conscious of veterans believing he was too full of himself. Moon's response was to work hard, including lifting weights with the offensive line.

"When people came in the building, I was already there. When people left, I was still there," Moon said. "Yeah, I had a lot of attention, but they saw my work ethic. When I got on the field, they started to see I could really play. What you're trying to do is gain respect, and I think Tua will get that, too, because of his work ethic."

Showing that work ethic and building camaraderie with teammates could prove to be more challenging for Tagovailoa this offseason with virtual meetings instead of in-person practices. But Tagovailoa has reached out to many of his Dolphins teammates via text messages and phone calls.

The other balance Tagovailoa will have to maintain is his unique marketability with Moon's advice "to go in there with your head down and work."

Tagovailoa, who signed a four-year, $30.3 million contract, has endorsement deals with Adidas, Hulu, Muscle Milk, Verizon, Wingstop, Gillette, Lowe's, Bose and Call of Duty. He recently signed a multiyear, exclusive memorabilia-and-collection deal with Fanatics. He also has a documentary in the works detailing his journey to the Dolphins.

Tua Tagovailoa taking photo with young Dolphins fan — Riley — who hopes he lands in Miami. Many other Dolphins fans do too.

60 people are talking about this

Agent Ryan Williams and Athletes First have handled Tagovailoa's marketing demands, and he has immediately become one of the NFL's most well-known young players. The people love the former Alabama quarterback, and that has shown up in the numbers. Tagovailoa is the top-selling NFL player in terms of overall merchandise sales since May 1 across the Fanatics network, which includes NFLshop.com and online team stores -- above Tampa Bay's Brady and Cincinnati Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow, the No. 1 overall draft pick.

Moon remembered advice he was given by his agent, Leigh Steinberg, who also represents Tagovailoa: to take things slow on building your brand and try to avoid reading the headlines or social media.

"I just want to make sure that he doesn't try to get too far ahead of himself. Football is what butters his bread," Moon said. "If he doesn't do well on the football field, everything else will go away. Knowing a bit about Tua, he'll be fine."

Tagovailoa showed humility throughout his college career. He has a connection to family and a desire to give back.

"I'm honored that the fans think so highly of me. But I haven't done anything, yet," Tagovailoa said. "What I did in college can't translate to the NFL. It's a clean slate. I've got to go out there and earn my respect and earn the trust from my teammates."

Thank you to @MiamiDolphins for making this dream come true for me and my family. It's in my heart to give back to the communities that have raised me. Plans are underway to start charitable outreach efforts in Hawaii, Alabama and Miami. Stay tuned, stay safe. Go fins! Blessed! https://twitter.com/MiamiDolphins/status/1260223696674881539 …

We have signed quarterback Tua Tagovailoa, defensive tackle Raekwon Davis, defensive end Curtis Weaver and long snapper Blake Ferguson.

2,754 people are talking about this

'The guys in that locker room'

The idea of becoming a star before even taking an NFL snap might be enough to make Dolphins coach Brian Flores' head spin. A champion of competition and team-first mentality, Flores probably doesn't care how many jerseys Tagovailoa sells as long as he produces on the field.

"The world will make you think that you're this superstar. And maybe you are, but it doesn't really matter," Flores said last November regarding any particular player's growing success. "The only thing that matters is the guys in that locker room."

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But there is an element of stardom Wade alluded to with which Flores probably will agree, and that's winning. The New England Patriotsbecame an NFL dynasty with a star quarterback because of their winning records and Super Bowl titles. The allure of Tagovailoa's star power will be embraced should the Dolphins become title contenders year in and year out.

Before worrying about the celebrity, the more timely concern revolves around when Tagovailoa will get on the field. Some argue he should be an immediate starter, while others suggest a redshirt 2020 season. The most likely result appears to be somewhere in the middle.

The Dolphins are in Year 2 of a dramatic rebuild, but Flores always wants to win. Quarterback Ryan Fitzpatrick, the veteran incumbent, has the upper hand in securing the starting role for several reasons, thanks to his comfort in offensive coordinator Chan Gailey's scheme, his success guiding the Dolphins in 2019 (to five wins), his leadership in the locker room and a lack of a true offseason.

But Tagovailoa is also eager to learn under Fitzpatrick, saying on draft day in April that he wants "to understand the kind of person he is ... nitpick him, ask him how he goes about preparing for a defense ... and just being able to question him."

Fitzpatrick vows to be Tagovailoa's "biggest cheerleader," but he won't hand him the starting job in 2020. Tagovailoa probably wouldn't want it any other way, because when football returns, he will get the opportunity to prove his worth.

Once Tagovailoa hits the field, the hope is he gets to become the greatest version of himself instead of being constantly compared to Marino. That weight is too heavy.

But becoming the long-term face of the Dolphins and South Florida sports? That's well within Tagovailoa's grasp. Source - ESPN

#nfl

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drgiov · 5 years ago

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Kobes’ Mindset

The Mamba Mentality and How It Can Help You Be Better at Golf and Life.

Gio Valiante, Ph.D. - Author: Fearless Golf & Golf Flow.

Over the course of my 20 year career as a performance psychologist for athletes and executives, I have worked with hundreds of high achievers across some of the most competitive domains: NFL, NBA, PGA Tour, MLB, and C-suite executives ranging from Silicon Valley to Wall Street. I say all this only to convey that I have had the privilege of a front row seat, in the most competitive environments, to the Best of The Best (BoTB).

Even in this sea of excellence in which I have been lucky enough to swim, Kobe Bryant stands out as having perhaps the best mental game I’ve ever studied. The Mamba Mentality is more than an attitude or a mindset; it is a virtual manifesto of a life well lived – what the Greeks (most notably, Aristotle) call Arete – the best expression of oneself, day in and day out. So outstanding was Kobe’s psychological toolbox, that it is the key feature to take away from Kobe’s legacy. It wasn’t Kobe’s 81 point game, nor his 5 championships, nor his business acumen that Tiger Woods recollected in the wake of Kobe’s passing. Rather, Tiger (along with the majority of people with whom I’ve spoken) say the greatest thing they’ve taken from Kobe’s passing was the mindset with which he approached and played the games of basketball and life.

Though my work takes me across many achievement domains, golf remains at the forefront of my thinking because more than any other arena, it puts a premium on one’s mindset. To master the game, one must master so many things, including mastery of oneself. Golf is expository, meaning whatever your weakness, golf will expose it. Golf exposes overconfidence, under-confidence, sloppiness, risk appetite or aversion, motivation, resilience, lack of attention to detail, laziness, self-awareness, imbalance, physical conditioning … and literally every meaningful trait that performance psychologists deem important.

Let me state it unequivocally: Had Kobe chosen to purse golf rather than basketball, he would have been amazing. What did Kobe do that you can learn from to pursue your best game? Read below to find out:

1. Kobe knew his Why. When psychologists study motivation, they do not only look at the amount of motivation someone has (ranging from low to high) but more importantly the quality of their motivation. People are motivated for different reasons, and not all motivations are created equal. For example, people in a state of panic are highly motivated, but seldom does panic produce great results. The highest quality motivation – what we call a Mastery motivation – is driven intrinsically by pure love of the craft, passion for constant improvement (kaizen), and love of challenge. Kobe loved the game itself. As far back as high school, he would show up two hours before practice, alone, to shoot hoops in a dark gym. When Kobe was done playing professionally, he titled his Oscar-winning film “Dear Basketball.” The film wasn’t a testimonial to himself, his ego, his fame, or his achievement … but rather was an ode to the game itself. Kobe’s love of basketball was consistent with another great, Ben Hogan, who said “Golf is a livelihood in doing the thing I love to do. I don’t like the glamour. I just like the game.” The takeaway is to always play for love of challenge, love of improvement, and love of the game. Not to impress others, show off, or validate yourself (aka, Ego golf). Play simply because you love the game and all the various challenges and special moments of wins and losses it offers.

2. Kobe followed his Calling. In Extraordinary Minds, Harvard psychologist Howard Gardner studied the common denominator from the most “extraordinary” individuals in history. One of his inferences was this: there was a perfect *fit* between the individual, their particular makeup, and the domain in which they flourished. Mozart found music, Virginia Woolf found poetry, Yo-Yo Ma found the cello, Tiger Woods found golf, Steve Cohen found the stock market, and Kobe found basketball. It is hard to imagine any one of these extraordinary individuals having achieved what they did if they never found their true purpose in life.

3. Kobe loved to Work. It is hard to imagine outpacing everyone else in any given domain if the work feels laborious. When I interact with the BoTB, what I commonly hear is how much they love their work. How the work is always in the back of their minds, even when they are doing other things. Commonly, an “inversion” happens for these individuals. Whereas most people find a quiet mind when their work is over, the BoTB get anxious and antsy when they are on vacations, having downtime, or otherwise abandoning their pursuit of excellence. Their minds quiet when they are working, not when they are relaxing. Think of what Ben Hogan said: “When I don’t practice for a day, I notice. Two days, my wife notices. Three days, the world notices.” Over the course of 40 years, famed hedge fund investor Steve Cohen has missed four of the 10,000 days the markets were tradeable, and all four of these days, he was in the hospital unable to trade. Kobe’s work ethic was legendary. He was also once quoted as saying: “I can’t relate to lazy people. We don’t speak the same language. I don’t understand you. I don’t want to understand you.” And of course, when a 15 year old Lebron James first asked Kobe the secret to sustained excellence in basketball, Kobe replied “Hard work. There is no substitute for the work.”

4. Kobe was Confident. Make no mistake about, confidence is the great arbiter on the road to success. Kobe was good, and Kobe knew he was good; after all, he’d put in the work (see #3 above). The first time he prepared to face Michael Jordan, a teammate asked Kobe, “‘Hey, you want some advice? Whatever you do, don’t look him in the eye.’ ‘Wait, excuse me? Why the hell would I not look him in the eye?’ I don’t think my teammate understood that I’m THAT too. Can’t ... look me in the eye either, buddy.’” But that is also true of all the great ones: a young Tiger Woods was criticized when he first came out on Tour for picking himself to win tournaments. His father, Earl, was also criticized for publicly saying how much better his son was than the rest of the players. Jack Nicklaus once observed, “What I do know is that inner certitude about one's abilities is a golfer's primary weapon, if only because it's the strongest defense against the enormous pressures the game imposes once a player is in a position to win. Golf's gentlemanly code requires that you always hide self-assuredness very carefully. But hide it or not, you'll never get very far without it." And about Jack, Tom Weiskopf observed: "Jack knew he was going to beat you. You knew Jack was going to beat you. And Jack knew that you knew that he was going to beat you." The takeaway: Don’t doubt yourself. In basketball, just as in golf and in life, you have to believe in yourself, even when the world doesn’t believe in you.

5. Kobe was Resilient. One of the hallmarks of confidence is the ability to overcome adversity (what we call “normative failure”). Resilience does not lead to confidence; it emerges from it. The more authentically confident you are in your preparation, work ethic, and self-awareness … the better you can overcome life’s obstacles. Lest we forget, baseball great Derek Jeter began his professional career 0 for 14. Three-time Super Bowl winning QB Troy Aikman threw 9 TD’s and 18 Interceptions in his first season. Van Gogh sold one profitable painting in his lifetime. Steve Jobs dropped out of college and was fired by Apple before forming Pixar. Tom Landry, Chuck Noll, Bill Walsh, and Jimmy Johnson accounted for 11 of the 19 Super Bowl victories from 1974 to 1993. They also share the distinction of having the worst records of first- season head coaches in NFL history - their collective record was 1 win, 45 losses. Famously, Thomas Edison failed 1,000 times at inventing the light bulb. All of them share two things: they achieved immortality, and they overcame very big roadblocks on their road to BoTB. The lesson for you is this: never experience a setback as something final. Failure is not the opposite of success. It is temporary and built into success. It is the fabric. Embrace your own setbacks and failures, and weave them into the narrative of your own great story.

6. Kobe practiced with Purpose. Kobe was famous for his relentless work ethic. He often shot 1,000 additional shots a day on top of weight training and team practice to work on particular shots and situations. Kobe mentally rehearsed every scenario he could possibly face so that he was never caught off guard. Shaquille O’Neal noted that he had seen Kobe practicing without a ball – weaving, huffing, faking-out – to practice specific scenarios in his imagination on the court. Similarly, Tiger Woods is known to use his range sessions prior to the Masters practicing each and every shot on the golf course chronologically, starting from the tee shot on hole 1, then shot into 1 green, and so on. They are preparing for battle by rehearsing the situations that will actually occur – having to hit a baby fade off the first tee, carving a draw on the 3rd approach shot; not hitting stock shots ball after ball mindlessly. Make your practice meaningful and applicable to the challenges you will face on the golf course. As Tiger’s father advised him Saturday evening before the 1997 Masters, “expect the best. Prepare for everything.” The BoTB plan for every scenario. They mange risk effectively. They are never caught off guard.

7. Kobe had big dreams. When Kobe was asked about how he continues to push his boundaries and comfort zones, he attributed his success to his dreams. He said, “Make sure that your dreams always stay pure. It’s not a matter of pushing beyond your limitations or expectations. It’s really a matter of protecting your dreams, protecting your imagination. That’s really the key. And when you do that, then the world just seems limitless.” To me, chasing dreams is an act of courage. It is easy to settle in life; easy to live within the parameters of other people’s expectations of you. If you are willing to dream big, to practice with purpose and intent, then you will be occupying space reserved for Gods and Legends.

8. Kobe was Fearless. While I was a young graduate student at Emory University, I did a study on professional golfers. What emerged from that study was something unexpected: the role that fear plays in golf. This finding was both surprising and unexpected because, unlike football or boxing, there is no real danger in golf. Nonetheless, fear was omnipresent, but the best golfers in the world elevated themselves above the rest by playing fearless golf (which ended up being the title of my first book). Kobe went all-in on basketball, and when he was done, he went all-in on film making, parenting, and coaching his kids. He was once photographed in a Bruce Lee shirt which read, “Fear is for other people” and was once interviewed saying, “Being fearless means putting yourself out there and going for it. No matter what. Go for it. Not for anybody else. But for yourself.” Kobe played, and lived, fearlessly. Surely a lesson for us all.

9. Kobe Innovated, Evolved, and Reinvented Himself and his Game. If there is one standout feature of BoTB that is largely ignored, it is their willingness to take risks to get better. Tiger Woods won the 1997 Masters by 12 strokes, then proceeded to win three more Majors (including the 2000 US Open by 15 strokes) and decided his swing wasn’t good enough, so he overhauled it beginning in 2004. He did it again in 2010. Tiger won in so many different ways: overpowering courses, strategizing around trouble, winning with his short game, his putter, his mind. Gary Player has won professional tournaments in 4 decades, evolving his game and his body. The artist Pablo Picasso is known for his ever-evolving style (Blue Period, Rose Period, African, Cubism, Surrealism) and set the stage for artists to follow. Robert Plant, the lead singer of Led Zeppelin, attributed their success to the fact that they “constantly evolved and changed their style” over the course of a 40-year career. Similarly, Kobe evolved his game over time from that of a lone wolf to a distributor of the ball and team leader. Picasso had his periods; Tiger his differing swings. Likewise, Kobe had his stages of development, marked for history by the fact that he has not one, but TWO jerseys retired in the Lakers arena (#8, #24). His first championship was as a 21 year old in 2000; his last as a 31 year old in 2010. He evolved his psychology and even his identity: Kobe became the Black Mamba. As his body broke down, he won more with strategy, preparation, and leadership than sheer overpowering athletic ability. As you age in golf, your game has to evolve with you. This is where the great Socratic dictum of Gnothi Seauton applies. Gnothi Seauton simply means “know thyself” or “self knowledge.” The BoTB don’t always have the most talent or explicit advantages over their competitors (Jack Nicklaus wasn’t close to being the best pure ball striker of his era). But he, and they, have an uncanny ability to know and trust themselves, and make bets that leverage their strengths while covering their weaknesses. You will need to learn how to compete with distance when young; then compete with precision, course management, intelligence, and composure when older ... all within the framework of knowing your own strengths, weaknesses, predilections, temptations, cognitive biases, and habits of mind.

The best way to honor our icons is to fearlessly put forth the best expression of ourselves and our talents. This is why embracing the Mamba Mentality is a good idea to flourish in both life and golf. To recap: Know your Why, Love to Work Hard, Be Confident, Be Resilient, Practice with Purpose, Dream Big, Be Fearless, and always, always, always innovate and evolve.

Bio:

Dr. Gio Valiante is an expert in the area of human performance as applied to business, finance, and sports. In golf he has been the sport psychologist for some of the games’ best players including US Open Champion Justin Rose, Players Champion Matt Kuchar, Henrik Stenson, Jordan Spieth, Davis Love III and many others. He was named Top 40 Under 40 to Influence the game of Golf by Golf Magazine and his players have won over 40 PGA Tour Events in the past 15 years. Dr. Gio is the author of two books, Fearless Golf and Golf Flow and his work been featured in Sports Illustrated, the New York Times, Good Morning America, ESPN, The Financial Times and Time Magazine. He has spent the past 5 years as the in-resident performance coach for Point72 Asset Management, and The Buffalo Bills. He can be reached at www.giovaliante.com, www.fearlessgolf.com, and [email protected].

#Kobe mamba mindset fearlessgolf BoTB

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wheresmynaya · 4 years ago

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Lost in the Lights Ch.2 | Brittana

Okay so I’m breaking routine here by posting another chapter so soon but I’m just blown away by the response so far and I got excited. LIKE WOAH, I really thought I wasn’t going to reach many people with this bc like...sports. Guess we all just really love Brittana, huh?

Also, 9-0 baby! 😘

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

No one is more surprised by the discovery of the Titans’ new quarterback than Santana. Actually, surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. Santana’s flat out dumbfounded by the news.

Is it the fact that they’ve never had a female Titan, let alone a female QB? Is it the fact that she’s actually really good? Is it the fact that it’s Brittany?

Santana’s at a loss.

The blonde just didn’t strike her as the type to play such a rough sport. She’s like this walking ray of sunshine that irks Santana to no end and she’s only had to deal with her for like a week! No one would’ve ever guessed that Brittany was the one to lead the Titans to their first win but maybe that’s because there’s apparently this side of her that Santana just hadn’t seen yet?

Judging by the way Brittany dominated on the field, Santana had her all wrong.

Santana spends her entire weekend trying to stay on top of her tan before the Autumn chill sets in, but in between sips of cold sweet tea and scrolling through her social media feeds there’s Brittany. Again, she doesn’t know why the quarterback keeps disrupting her thoughts, but it seems like she can’t outrun the girl.

At the moment, Brittany’s everywhere Santana looks! Mainly on social media; one minute Santana’s liking a picture Quinn posted of them before the game on Friday and the next she’s being bombarded by shots of Brittany posing with her teammates. Mike and Sam basically make the same exact post with the whole New Year New QB, but what surprises her is that even Puck is on her feed doing the same thing!

To think that the guys would even allow having a female quarterback is beyond her, because the last time she checked they were all a bunch of sexist pigs. Then again, maybe Coach Beiste has finally taught them all a thing or two about respecting women enough to be okay with playing alongside them?

Santana has no idea.

It’s just crazy how this girl seems to have popped up out of nowhere and now Santana can’t get away even when she’s not at school. The weekends are sacred to her, it’s her time to relax and reset before having to deal with all the McKinley High imbeciles but seeing so much of Brittany has her thoughts running nonstop.

What’s worse is that Santana can’t describe why she’s so annoyed by it all!

It isn’t until Monday rolls around that things finally start to come to a head.

The Titans’ recent win still seems to be the only thing anyone at McKinley wants to talk about, but Santana manages to evade all those conversations. She doesn’t know anything about the game other than the Titans have sucked for most of her high school career but she’s still obligated to cheer for them.

It’s a small price to pay when you’re a real winner. The Cheerios have way more titles and that’s really the only thing Santana cares about.

It’s all apart of her master plan to get the hell out of Lima once she graduates. With several National Championship wins under her belt, along with being Co-Captain since Sophomore year, Santana’s hoping it’ll help to expand her university options.

Although, she knows her future is practically mapped out for her – deep down she still has hope for a miracle. Until then, she just wants to make sure she’s well-prepared for anything which means retaining her position on the squad and making good grades.

Santana goes through the motions of the school day as usual, and as usual she fights the inescapable feeling of giddiness as she makes her way towards her final class of the day. She doesn’t actually mind the class – Miss Holliday is secretly one of her favorite teachers at McKinley – but she’s not the blonde that’s making her stomach fill with fluttery things.

She’s barely taken two steps into the room when she spots Brittany already sitting at their shared desk. She had been resting her chin in her palm looking bored as ever until Santana walked in. That’s when Brittany perked up and turned on her signature mega-watt smile.

It was getting harder and harder for Santana to scowl at the sight of it.

“Hi!” Brittany greeted happily as Santana took a seat next to her, “How was your weekend?”

It was always the same with Brittany, no matter what kind of look Santana threw her way. Brittany never seemed to be fazed by her grumpiness. She just took it in stride and continued to try and make conversation even if Santana never gave her much to work with.

Maybe that’s why Santana’s drawn to the blonde? She doesn’t scare easily unlike most at the school who wouldn’t dare be so persistent.

“Fine,” Santana answered with a sigh of indifference while she got settled and took out her binder and pen.

“Awesome,” Brittany nodded and picked up her own pen to start doodling, “I had good weekend too. I went to the park, did some chores around the house, hung out with some guys from the team and – “

The team caused a crack in Santana’s façade.

She looked to Brittany, trying to figure out how the girl sitting next to her was the same fierce player she saw Friday night. With the confusion and curiosity that’s been building ever since, the words just came tumbling out of her before she could catch them.

“You’re our new QB,” Santana stated but it sounded more like an accusation than an observation.

Brittany’s brows rose and a coy smile began to spread across her lips, “So you can say more than two words?”

Santana rolled her eyes at the sarcasm but even more so at how that smile made her stomach flip. She really needed to get her shit together.

“But yeah,” Brittany added coolly, “Seems like I am.”

Santana looked down at her binder, “You didn’t say.”

“You didn’t ask,” Brittany replied just as quickly.

Before Santana could get wrapped up in that giddy feeling again, she hardened herself. She was starting to see how Brittany could keep up with the guys on the team, the girl was quick and she had confidence.

Santana liked that…or whatever.

“Sup dudes!” Miss Holliday greeted the class as she strolled in just after the bell, “Is this Monday dragging or what?”

Some kids grunted in agreement. Brittany chuckled away and Miss Holliday smirked up at her.

“Awesome game, Chica!” Miss Holliday complimented as she walked down their row closest to Brittany. She held out her fist for Brittany to bump, “You kicked butt out there.”

“Thanks,” Brittany replied sweetly as their fists connected, “It was a team effort.”

“Spoken like a true leader. About time we got a little girl power in this school,” Miss Holliday nodded approvingly before moving down the row.

Santana watched Brittany giggle then get swept up in listening to Miss Holliday’s instructions for the warm-up activity. Again, Santana found herself in awe of how Brittany was the same girl who could break tackles and fire a football downfield. Brittany was friendly and soft and diplomatic, nothing like any of the guys on the team.

“You’re staring,” Brittany pointed out although her gaze remained on Miss Holliday now standing at the front of the class setting up the projector.

Santana doesn’t know why, but Brittany’s comment makes her cheeks burn.

She was glad when one of the kids closest to the door was asked to turn off the lights. In the darkness, she found some comfort and a little confidence. She was able to get a grip and act like a normal person.

“We’ve never had a female QB before,” Santana whispered. She had her pen in hand, trying to follow along with everyone else by doing the activity but her focus was elsewhere.

“So I’ve heard,” Brittany replied just as softly.

Santana didn’t know what to say next; this was the most they’ve spoken to each other thus far and she really didn’t know where the conversation was going.

What she didn’t anticipate though was fucking it all up with one sentence.

“Girls,” Santana breathed out and for some reason the word made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t realize she hadn’t said it in awhile, maybe not since seeing…

Santana swallows hard at the memory trying to worm its way in. She pushes it to the back of her mind; now isn’t the time for it.

“Girls,” She repeats herself with a steadier voice, “They aren’t supposed to play football.”

When Brittany looks at her, the friendly smile is gone and her pretty blue eyes are darker and fill with disbelief.

Santana knows she said the wrong thing the second the words leave her lips. It’s not exactly what she meant, but it’s too late to take it back now. Her words have already done the damage.

“Huh,” Brittany scoffs and averts her eyes back to her work, “Didn’t expect to hear that coming from you.”

Santana frowns – mostly out of guilt – but her instincts have her on the defense, “What’s that suppose to mean?”

She watches Brittany’s jaw tighten before she’s turning to look at Santana again. Her brows knit together, “It means I didn’t think you were the small-minded type.”

Santana feels winded.

She’s been called many things in her life and has heard some creative insults aimed at her, but never has she ever been called small-minded. She’s surprised by how much that one actually hurts. After everything she went through last year, after all the backlash, after having to deal with real small-minded people she feels a little offended. She can’t be lumped in with them. It’s not possible, because she’s…

The word gets trapped her throat and Santana has to swallow hard again to steady herself.

She isn’t like everyone else.

On second thought, maybe she is if she’s still saying something like that?

“I’ve always been told that those who can play the game well should,” Brittany tells her firmly, “I think I’m someone that can and judging by your team’s standings for the past three years, you could use someone like me on that field.”

Santana gulps. She can’t remember the last time someone at this school spoke to her the way Brittany is. It’s not a tone she’s familiar with, but she knows she deserves it.

“I don’t know you very well, but I thought – I don’t know – I thought you’d at least be a little more accepting than the hicks I’ve come across in this town,” Brittany continues, “I guess I was wrong.”

Santana’s lips part to defend herself, but nothing comes out.

Brittany doesn’t notice, “It shouldn’t matter if I’m a girl or a boy or a damn alien from outer space. If you can play – if you want to play – then you should, no matter what the sport is. Anyone that thinks otherwise is just…well, they’re stupid.”

The last word has Brittany’s voice cracking and the sound finally has Santana sputtering for an explanations, “I – I didn’t mean to – “

“You should probably just pay attention to the board, Santana.”

Santana bites her lip at Brittany’s clipped tone – that might’ve been the first time she’s ever heard Brittany say her name. She does as she’s told though. It’s best if she doesn’t dig herself a deeper hole.

Santana spends the rest of the day mulling over Brittany's words. Even through Cheerios practice after school, Santana can’t seem to get her head on right.

Maybe she really has become a product of her environment? Maybe all the small-minded people she's surrounded by have somehow managed to rub off on her after all of these years?

That can’t be the case, can it?

She hates that she has to ask herself that. Usually, Santana’s not one to have any regrets or remorse once she spits out her vicious words but this time she finds herself backpedaling when it comes to Brittany. She wasn’t trying to be a bitch, it just sort of happened and for once in her life she feels kind of horrible about it.

“You okay?” Quinn asks hesitantly after she dismissed the squad for a water break. Santana was meant to lead warm-ups today but Quinn seemed more eager to take over and Santana didn’t mind considering she’s so distracted.

“Yeah,” Santana shrugs, “I’m fine.”

“You’re quiet today,” Quinn notes, “You didn’t even laugh when Bec accidentally called Coach Sylvester sir.”

Santana tries to mask her worries and shrugs again, “She’s not that far off, have you seen Coach lately? Very mannish.”

Quinn smirks, pleased to seemingly have her best friend back, “So true.”

Just then Coach Sylvester blows her whistle and barks orders at the squad. Santana’s reluctant to move, but she pushes herself up anyway.

“God,” She groans as they walk over to the others, “I’m over this year and it hasn’t even started.”

“Same,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go make fun of the JV squad later? I hear they need a ton of work and their practices runs longer than ours because they suck so much.”

If it were any other day, that suggestion would have Santana eager to get a front row seat but even that doesn’t help. Still, she has to retain some sort of normalcy even if thoughts of Brittany are trying their hardest to disrupt that.

“I can’t wait to see that train wreck,” Santana quips and together, she and her best friend fall in line with the rest of the squad.

The remainder of the week is more of the same: class, Cheerios practice, homework then repeat. The only thing that’s out of the ordinary for Santana is the icy, cold shoulder Brittany’s giving her now.

Or maybe Santana’s the one avoiding her?

It’s all minor details. What’s important is that they aren’t speaking to each other anymore and Santana’s starting to miss Brittany’s usual cheerful greetings.

She knows what she needs to do to fix this. It doesn’t make it any easier for her to actually do it though. To admit that she was wrong, to apologize for her words, to accept responsibility for her actions? Santana’s not use to most of that!

It’s a weird kind of tension though between her and Brittany, so Santana’s not sure how much more she can take. Instead, she steals sideways glances in the dark and hopes Brittany takes pity on her and makes the first move.

Brittany doesn’t and soon one week’s worth of silence ends up turning into two.

Santana had every intention of making amends by last Friday’s game, but things just kept coming up. There’s class and Cheerios practice, but now she actually has to study for upcoming quizzes and assignments. She can’t fall behind again so once practice ends, Santana usually gets changed right away and heads straight for her car without even glancing in the Titans’ direction.

Is she using schoolwork as a lame excuse to avoid dealing with her shit? Of course, she’s a teenager. Procrastination comes naturally to her!

Later that night, Santana sits with both of her parents at the table for dinner. It’s a rare occasion to have Maribel and Hector home at the same time, but that quickly loses its novelty when Hector starts to grill Santana on her studies.

“Papi, it’s only the third week,” Santana gently reasons.

“And?” Hector gives her a stern look, “You need to stay on top of things, Santana.”

It’s a simple sentence, but Santana feels like there’s way more beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s hard being the daughter of a successful doctor whose father was also a doctor and his father before him. There is a long line of them in the Lopez legacy and that looms over Santana like a dark cloud, especially now that she’s in her Senior year.

It’s gone without saying whose footsteps Santana will follow, but it’s still a lot of pressure for her. It’s only a matter of time before her dad begins to lecture her again about college and the importance of good grades and extracurriculars while her mom tries to elevate some of that stress.

She’s never met two people who show their love for someone so differently.

“Don’t put too much pressure on her,” Maribel says and squeezes Santana’s hand from across the table lovingly, “You’re doing fine, mija.”

Hector frowns at his wife, “Fine isn’t enough. You think any of these Ivy League schools care about fine? Of course not. They’re going through thousands of applicants a year and fine doesn’t stand out. Fine doesn’t get into Harvard.”

Maribel narrows her eyes at his rambling.

“Don’t give me that look,” Hector huffs but his voice softens as he looks to Santana, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Santana can already guess what he’s about to say. She’s heard it so many times before.

“You can’t get complacent, Santana. You have a lot to make up for,” Hector adds just as Santana knew he would, “Especially after the year you’ve had.”

“That’s an understatement,” Santana mumbles as she pushes food around on her plate.

“What was that?” Hector raises a challenging brow.

“It’s nothing,” Santana dismisses and smiles reassuringly at her dad, “I’m on top of everything this year, Papi. I promise, you don’t have to worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

When Hector matches her smile, Santana feels a little relief even if it only lasts for a moment.

It isn’t until they’re nearing the end of the third week of school when things on the Brittany-front begin to shift for Santana. They still aren’t speaking to each other, but the blonde practically pops up everywhere she goes – if not physically, then someone’s bound to be talking about her.

After securing a second win for the Titans, Brittany has quickly climbed the ranks on the popularity ladder. The buzz around her grows, but what’s odd is that despite her obvious talents and annoyingly charming smile the students of McKinley have mixed feelings about her.

More importantly, about having a female quarterback.

On her walks to class, Santana has overheard the murmurs of doubt in Brittany’s abilities. Some are frustrated at how a new kid was able to dethrone Finn Hudson who has been leading the team all of her high school career. Some think Coach Beiste is getting soft. Some think it’s all a hoax, but Santana doesn’t really understand that one.

Regardless of how they feel about her though, Brittany’s still able to part crowds any time she walks down the hall. It doesn’t look like she pays them any mind, but Santana’s been wrong about her before.

But with popularity comes the irritating gossip mongers and Santana happens to overhear Brittany’s first encounter with McKinley’s most annoying: Jacob Ben Israel.

\\\\\

Between her morning runs, class, football practice, weight training, homework and helping out with Pete, Brittany’s having a hard time finding a moment to relax. She should be use to the hectic schedule by now, but making the change from her old school’s system to Lima’s is throwing her off a little. The school days start earlier, football practices run later and the work is a little harder than she use to.

Then there’s everything going on with Santana and that might be the most frustrating.

For nearly two weeks, they’ve kept this thing between them going. Did Brittany overreact by saying what she said? She doesn’t think so. Maybe Santana didn’t think what she said to her was a big deal, but to Brittany it was. The things people say to her in Lima aren’t anything knew, but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to their sting.

Most times, she’s able to ignore them but it just hits differently when she hears the utter disbelief coming from a fellow female. It’s like, whatever happened to empowering and uplifting each other? Did Santana not grow up listening to the Spice Girls? Has she never watched She’s the Man? Bend it like Beckham? A League of their own?

It’s so irritating because she can’t even ask Santana, the girl avoids her like the plague! The only time they’re ever close enough is in English class and that’s only because they have to share a table.

Brittany’s tired and achy and she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts as shuffles through her locker for her textbook for next class that she doesn’t notice she is no longer alone.

“Brittany Pierce!” Brittany hears someone say and the sound makes her flinch, “You’ve become quite the celebrity.”

She leans back slowly and peeks around her locker door to find a rather dorky looking guy with a huge cloud of hair. She notices the mic in his hand next and is instantly confused.

Is she on tv?

“Who are you?” She asks and glances around unsurely for a camera.

“Jacob Ben Israel,” He says and holds out his hand for her to shake, “Some call me JBI for short. I’m McKinley’s #1 source for news and the hottest gossip.”

Brittany shakes his hand; it’s grossly warm and sweaty as hell but she’s not surprised judging by the look of him. He certainty isn’t dressed like a journalist or one of those news reporters she has seen on tv.

She can hear her dad’s voice in her head chastising her for judging a book by its cover so she gives JBI a polite smile, “Oh okay. Nice to meet you.”

She goes to turn back to her locker, but JBI is quick to start the questions.

“So you’re the first female QB here at McKinley High. You’re new to the school and you’re the first to ever bench Finn Hudson and you’ve already led the Titans to their second victory this year. Hoping for a third this Friday?” JBI pauses and holds out the mic for Brittany.

She clears her throat, she’s not sure where the camera is so she just looks at him, “Of course. There are a lot of really great players on the team and I’m confident we can win a lot more games this season.”

“Awesome,” JBI replies enthusiastically, “A winning streak isn’t something a lot of the students here have experienced. You’re off to a great start this year. You’re bound to be nominated for Homecoming Court!”

Brittany almost laughs at that.

She’s been nominated at her old school before – even won a couple times – but that’s because she was voted for by her peers, peers who have known her for years. She doesn’t expect any nomination this year, the only reason anyone knows her is because she plays football. If she were to be nominated, it wouldn’t be because she’s well-liked or something like that. It would be because she sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Sounds cool,” Brittany replies despite disagreeing with him.

“So tell us,” JBI’s voice takes a dip. It’s sneaky, almost mischievous, “Would you rather be crowned the King or the Queen?”

Brittany’s stomach flips. She doesn’t like this interview thing anymore.

“What?” She asks because the question confuses her but she finds him wearing this sly grin like he’s just found her weak spot.

He hasn’t, but Brittany’s guard instantly goes up.

“Don’t be shy,” He coaxes with the wag of his brow, “You know what I’m talking about. You’re a female QB, no way you’re strai – “

“Hey!” Suddenly Santana’s there, of all people, and there’s fury in her eyes as she shoves JBI’s mic to his chest, “Fuck off.”

Brittany blinks like she’s caught in a daydream. Her eyes shift from Santana to JBI whose grin widens upon seeing the Co-Captain.

“Now this is a pairing I’m sure everyone would love to see,” He says as he talks into the mic again like nothing’s happened, like Santana isn’t about to beat him over the head with it. He looks to the camera – the kid’s been lingering over Brittany’s right shoulder thus far – and says, “It’s the infamous Santana Lopez, gracing us with her presence.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “I’m not gracing you with shit. Your little show sucks.”

“That’s not what my viewer count says. I’m sure you remember,” JBI quips as he turns back to the pair, “So Brittany, you didn’t answer the question.”

Brittany feels like a deer caught in the headlights; she can’t even remember what the question was, but thankfully Santana interrupts again.

“I said beat it, loser, before I shove that camera so far up your dumb ass you’ll be spitting out polaroids,” Santana snaps.

To Brittany’s surprise though, JBI doesn’t move right away.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re not even using that kind of cam – “

Santana grits her jaw and takes a threatening step forward. Her voice dips low and gravely, “Try me, Jewfro. Please. I’ve been itching to kick you square in the nuts.”

That threat has JBI reaching to protect his crotch before he turns and runs down the hall with his camera-friend following him.

Brittany watches Santana smirk like she’s so proud of herself for being able to instill the fear of God in someone before she’s averting her gaze. When her stormy brown eyes land on Brittany, the blonde feels a cold chill.

The smirk’s gone and in it’s place is a familiar scowl. Brick by brick, her wall goes up.

“I know you’re new here, Pierce, so a little word of advice,” Santana warns as she turns to the lockers, “Don’t talk to him. He’s a wannabe journalist that reports nothing but bullshit. He’ll twist your words if you let him, trust me. I’ve seen it happen many times and I don’t want you to get caught up in his shit.”

Brittany’s at a loss for words.

Santana hasn’t spoken to her all this time and now all of sudden this? Why would it matter to Santana what she did or said or who she spoke to? Why would she care, she doesn’t even know Brittany?

There’s so many questions beginning to swarm her, but none make it out of her head.

“Thanks,” Is the only word Brittany ends up saying around a shy grin.

There’s a hint of smile on Santana’s lips when their eyes catch for a quick second, but it disappears just as fast.

“It’s whatever,” She says and Brittany hears a locker door slam, “I’ll see you in class.”

It isn’t until Santana’s halfway down the hall that Brittany finally realizes that their lockers are right next to each other’s. She can do nothing but laugh at the small coincidence.

The second time Santana speaks to her, it’s because Brittany accidentally scared the crap out of her.

It’s Thursday now – the last day of practice before the Week 3 game – so Brittany wants to get a jump on warm-ups. She knows there’s a thirty minute buffer between Cheerios and Titans practice, but she has to account for the extra time it takes to pick up her gear from Coach Beiste’s office first since everything’s stored in the boys’ locker room.

Usually, she gets the whole room to herself and plays a little music from her phone to get amped up. This time though, there’s one Cheerio that’s already there and this particular Cheerio surprisingly has a beautiful singing voice.

Brittany feels like she’s being lured in by one of those sirens she has read about in Greek mythology. She thinks she should probably make her presence known because creeping around a locker room is kind of weird, but she’s so in awe of the girl’s voice.

More importantly, the owner of that voice.

“Jesus!” Santana gasps when she rounds the corner to find Brittany lingering by the hampers. Her hand flies to chest to steady her beating heart, “What the hell are you doing, Pierce? Trying to give a girl a heart attack?”

Brittany thanks the heavens when she finds that Santana’s fully clothed already.

“I’m sorry!” Brittany blushes, “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

Santana just shakes her head before eyeing Brittany again. There’s a flash of concern when Santana says, “You look like shit, worse than yesterday when I saw you with JBI.”

Brittany’s not sure how to take that. She hasn’t been sleeping well, that’s for sure, but it worries her that her tiredness is beginning to show. At least, that’s what she hopes Santana is talking about.

“I’ve been super busy lately. Guess I’m just ready for the weekend,” She says instead as she fumbles with the shoulder pads in her hands, “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Interrupting me?”

“Yeah, you were singing. It sounded really pretty.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Santana brushes off before crossing her arms over her chest, “Why are you in here so early? Doesn’t your practice start at 4?”

“Why are you in here so late?” Brittany challenges, “Didn’t your practice start at 3:30?”

Santana cocks her head to the side, “I had to talk to Ms. Pillsbury about something.”

“Who?”

“She’s the guidance counselor. You’ll probably meet her soon, she’s on all the Seniors about their college application due dates. Figures, she’d want to start off with me.”

Brittany wants to know more. Afterall, she’s naturally curious when it comes to getting to know new people so the questions build but she doesn’t voice any of them. Not that Santana would give her any answers anyway.

Santana’s looking at all the gear Brittany’s toting along with her duffle bag and her brows furrow, “Did you carry all of that here?”

Brittany looks down at her gear and nods.

“Why?” Santana scrunches her nose, “Don’t you have a locker or something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “I was never given one. Coach Beiste said Coach Sylvester is meant to assign one to me, but I guess she’s been busy.”

“Doubt it. She hates Coach Beiste so in turn, she hates you.”

Brittany frowns; what’d she do?

“She’s probably just giving you a hard time because you’re a Titan instead of a Cheerio,” Santana answers then walks off. She goes to grab the clipboard that hangs above the hampers, dangling from it is a key, “I can assign you one, it’s part of my Co-Captain privileges. This side is reserved for the squad, obviously, but the set by the showers are all free. You can leave your football stuff there too, doubt anyone in here is going to want to steal it.”

Brittany’s taken aback by Santana’s random act of kindness for a second time that week. She let’s her smile shine, “Thanks. It really helps having everyting in one place. I don’t have to waste so much time walking back and forth.”

Santana nods and there’s that hint of a smile again before she’s leading the way over to the section of lockers that’s now become Brittany’s.

“Top or bottom?” Santana asks as she scans the list attached to the clipboard. Brittany smirks and notices the moment Santana realizes what she has said, “As in locker preference.”

“Duh,” Brittany jokes with a straight face, “What else would you mean?”

Santana’s face is flushed now and Brittany tries her hardest not to laugh. She’s kind of cute when she’s flustered like that.

“I’ll put you down for top,” Santana answers stiffly. Now her eyes are solely glued to the clipboard in her hands, “I guess I can unlock the bottom one too though so you can have the entire segment. You can – uh – decide which you want to use or whatever.”

“That works for me,” Brittany replies casually before she starts to undress.

Santana practically runs into a wall when she sees Brittany pull her top up over her head and let it drop onto her open duffle bag.

“I’ll just leave you to it then,” Santana calls over her shoulder as she scurries off.

Brittany watches the whole thing curiously. Has Santana never changed in front of other girls before or something? That’s the only explanation she comes to for how awkward she’s being.

Brittany doesn’t dwell on it, just continues getting dressed.

By the time Brittany’s got her practice gear on, Santana appears again. She looks a little shier than before and she’s fiddling with her hands.

Brittany just smiles and reaches down for her helmet, “You going now?”

“Yeah,” Santana answers, “Just trying to enjoy the last bit of A.C.”

“It’s not that hot out,” Brittany chuckles and motions to her pads, “At least you don’t have to wear all this.”

“True,” Santana smirks, “Now that would suck.”

Brittany chuckles again. She likes this version of Santana, she hopes she can see her more often but there’s still a giant pink elephant in the room so Brittany doesn’t get too excited.

“I’ll see you out there I guess,” Brittany says.

Santana nods and turns to leave, but then stops and turns back to face Brittany again.

“Actually, I just wanted to say,” Santana starts.

Brittany wonders if this is it. If she’s finally going to get an apology after what Santana said to her the other week, or at least the start of a conversation about her opinion? Anything would suffice by this point.

Brittany waits.

“I just wanted to say,” Santana repeats and her voice is so shaky. It’s completely unlike the confidence she possessed when she told off JBI, “Have a good practice.”

It’s not what Brittany was anticipating her to say – and judging by the uncertainty on Santana’s face, it wasn’t what she was anticipating to say either – but she’ll take it.

“Thanks,” Brittany grins as she walks by her to leave, “You too.”

By Friday night, Brittany’s feeling better than she has all week. Although they’ve yet to acknowledge Santana’s misjudgments, baby steps in the right direction have been taken.

Kind of.

First Santana defended her against JBI then on Thursday she assigned Brittany a locker and today? Today Santana brought her a drink from the Cheerios special lounge while Brittany was getting ready for the game.

“What is it?” Brittany asked hesitantly as she eyed the color of it. She’s sitting on the benches in the locker room completely dressed now in her uniform. All that’s left are the final touches like a quick dance party to get her pumped and applying a little Game Day eye make up.

“It’s a bunch of healthy stuff like fruits and veggies. All fresh so that explains the color, no preservatives. There’s some vitamin supplements in there too,” Santana explains like it’s all a bother.

Brittany’s beginning to see through that though.

“I don’t take drugs,” Brittany replies and tries to give the bottle back.

Santana rolls her eyes and there’s that hint of a smile again, “Does Vitamin D count as a drug? If so, then Puckerman is definitely on something stronger.”

Brittany frowns at the accusation, “Wait, seriously? The team can get in a lot of troub – “

“Easy, Pierce, I’m sure he’s just all-talk,” Santana amends, “I wouldn’t open an investigation on him or anything.” Then there’s a pause and for a second she looks a little shy as she motions to the bottle in Brittany’s hands. Her voice comes out softer, “Drink that. It’ll help with the tiredness and it’s good for your immune system too incase you’re about to come down with something.”

“You think I’m getting sick?” Brittany chuckles and turns back to apply thick black stripes to the apples of her cheeks.

Santana lifts a shoulder casually before standing, “You almost fell asleep in class today.”

Brittany blushes. Did she really? She’s so tired, she can’t even remember.

“What does that have to do with getting sick?” Brittany wonders.

“It’s almost that time of the year and bugs move quick,” Santana explains, “A lot quicker if you’re not taking care of yourself…for example, not getting enough sleep.”

That takes Brittany by surprise. Santana caring about her? Why? But despite the surprise, Brittany feels warm and fuzzy all over.

“Alright Doc, I’ll drink it,” Brittany jokes as she finishes up drawing on the left stripe. She turns to Santana as she twists off the lid and makes a show of taking a long drink.

Santana actually laughs this time before she shakes her head.

“I feel better already,” Brittany beams as she stands. They’re close now and it’s then that Brittany really notices the height difference, “Thanks for this. What do I owe you? Pressed juices like these probably cost an arm and a leg here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Santana dismisses and takes a step back to put some distance between them, “Just bring home another win.”

“You got it,” Brittany winks and goes to take another swig while she watches Santana leave the locker room.

Unfortunately, it’s a rocky start this time for the Titans. It’s not that Brittany isn’t playing at her best because she always brings 110% to the field no matter how she’s feeling. It’s actually her teammates who aren’t as focused as she is for some reason. There’s still a lot of work to be done when it comes to being a cohesive unit, but today they’ve really taken a step back.

They’re down by 17 points when the half is called.

“Alright, what’s going on out there?” Coach Beiste questions. She’s fuming as she eyes everyone for an answer, “What I’m seeing is that Pierce is the only one here that’s come to play.”

Karofsky scoffs and folds up his arms, “I’m so over hearing about her!”

“Me too!” Azimio chimes in, “First we let in Hummel and now her? What’s next? She gonna join the Puck Heads in the off season and change the game for them too? The rest of us are chopped liver now. It’s not good for my reputation!”

“Your reputation? You were a loser just like the rest of us before Brittany came,” Mike replies but the two don’t take kindly to being called a loser and start shoving at him.

“Cut it out!” Sam tries to breaking it up.

Brittany looks over at them and grimaces. Dave and Azimio both have been a pain in her ass since she’s joined the team, but she thought they were past this by now? They’ve got a winning record, they’re actually improving on being a better team, so what’s the issue all of a sudden?

Coach Beiste shakes her head at them, “Give me a break! One person doesn’t win games. You don’t have to like Pierce but you’re going to give her your respect if you want to play on my field. It’s as simple as that. You work together, you listen and respect each other. That’s what it means to be a team, is it not?”

Brittany eyes her teammates. Aside from the select handful that actually like her, the guys look at her like she’s the enemy. It makes Brittany feel really unsettled.

“Is it not?” Coach Beiste presses.

There are mumbles amongst the squad but it’s not enough for Coach Beiste.

“Louder!”

“Yes, Coach!” They say in unison.

“Okay then, let’s starting acting like a team out there and win this game!” She says with the clap of her hands.

They’re in the fourth quarter now and the Titans have managed to make it a close game despite their rough start. Coach Beiste’s pep talk must’ve worked because the team is playing harder than the first half, but Brittany still senses the undertones of resentment.

She packs it away for now and just focuses on making plays. Afterall, she’s meant to be winning this one for Santana. Well not for Santana; it’s more like paying her back for the drink earlier.

Brittany nods resolutely and looks to the sidelines to see the Co-Captain shaking her pompoms. She does a high kick and yells out a cheer in time with the others, but the smile she’s wearing is what catches Brittany’s eye.

She shakes her head and focuses on the snap.

“Down!” Brittany calls out. She catches the other team’s Line Backer’s movement from the corner of her eye. The defense looks hungry, but so are they. She smirks and braces herself, “Hut!”

The ball is snapped and Brittany quickly hands it off to Puckerman. So far their run game has been pretty weak tonight, but Puckerman surprises everyone and kicks into gear. He plows through the defense at full speed, breaking tackle after tackle, until he crosses over for a first down and steps out of bounds.

He spikes down the ball and makes a sawing motion with his arm while the crowd goes wild. Matt runs up to congratulate him with a hard pat on the back.

“Yes!” Brittany jumps up and down as she cheers.

Over on the sidelines, the Cheerios are just as excited as they chant:

“First and ten, first and ten! First and ten, let’s do it again!”

Brittany sees Santana watching her with a huge grin and it makes her feel warm all over again. She knows it’s silly to think that Santana’s cheers are just for her – same goes for that smile – but she can’t help but dream.

Yeah, she’s decided. She’s really going to win this game just for her.

Brittany quickly runs up to their new line of scrimmage and everyone starts to take their position. She smacks Puckerman on the back when he jogs up next to her to get in formation.

“Nice carry, Puckerman!” She compliments.

“Sawed right through them!” Puckerman shouted excitedly back.

“Let’s keep up that energy,” Brittany praised and called out another play. They were in field goal range now, but like always – Brittany wasn’t here to play it safe especially with the new set of downs.

This time she wanted to try another play-action route since it worked pretty well in the pre-season game. Mike and Sam have proved to her that they have great hands, but they needed to work on their speed and timing. Now was a perfect time to test that. With Puckerman on a roll, the defense was sure to up their coverage on him rather than the receivers which would work perfectly in Brittany’s favor.

“Blue 82!” Brittany repeats and looks to her sides for confirmation that they’ve picked up the slight change.

Mike and Sam give her the barest nod before they’re glaring at their defenders. Brittany kicks up her foot and Mike quickly changes position so that he’s next to Sam now on the right side of the field.

“Blue 82!” Brittany calls out again and readies herself for the snap, “Down…Hut!”

The ball is hiked and she fakes the hand off to Puckerman so smoothly that the defense follows after him just as planned. While they chase him down to the left side of the field, Mike and Same cut up the right. Brittany holds onto the ball longer than she likes, making sure she gives her receivers enough time to breakaway from their defenders.

The other team’s Line Backer is trying his hardest to break through her O-Line though. Thankfully, Matt ends up making a key block for Mike and Brittany’s able to step up in the pocket and fire down a quick pass. It’s a little lower than Brittany wanted, but Mike makes the catch and pushes past a defender for another first down!

Everyone went wild, but the play clock was still going since Mike hadn’t made it out of bounds.

Brittany motioned for everyone to hurry into position – this time she was going for a slant route with Matt being the intended receiver. She kept her eye on the seconds ticking away, but the team was able to make it in time to get set.

“OG 30!” She called out. She was really starting to feel that adrenaline kick in but she kept her cool and held out her hands, “Down…Hut!”

Again, Brittany caught the ball and dropped back as everyone began to move. Despite the grumpiness during half time, the guys that made up her O-Line – mostly Dave and Azimio – did their jobs correctly and held the line. Brittany looked to her right and faked a throw before turning to her left and firing at Matt.

He juggled the ball in the air, but ultimately was able to secure possession of it and ran up the side of the field for an easy touchdown!

“Let’s go!” Brittany pumped her fist in the air. That was their best drive all game and now with the new points on the board, they’re finally up by 6! With just a little over ten minutes left in the final quarter, Brittany’s feeling good about their odds in coming away with another win.

She was right to feel confident; Titans end up winning the game 27 – 21. When the final whistle was blown, everyone was cheering and some of her teammates rushed to congratulate her efforts. She happily returned the sentiments, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the sidelines to see if Santana was watching her again too.

And she was, alongside Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios.

Brittany just grinned as she pulled off her helmet and let down her hair, happy that she was able to make good on her promise to Santana.

Despite how great she felt after Friday’s win, Monday morning was a different story.

Everything hurts and she was so exhausted that she didn’t even go for her usual morning run which is telling because she’s one of those rare people that actually works well with routine exercising. She guesses all those late nights studying combined with her patchy sleep schedule have finally taken its toll on her body.

She thinks back to what Santana said Friday about getting enough rest. God, she hopes she isn’t coming down with anything. Getting sick is just not what she needs right now.

“Hey mom?” Brittany taps on Whitney’s bedroom door. The curtains are already drawn and welcome in the morning sun so she knows her mom’s awake already. Whitney appears in the doorway of the master bath in her work uniform and instantly looks worried.

“You feeling okay, kiddo?” She asks as she crosses the room to press at Brittany’s forehead.

“I don’t think I’m sick, but I feel horrible,” Brittany explains.

“Yeah, you don’t have a fever. Have you been getting enough sleep?” Whitney asks.

Brittany shakes her head. Whitney eyes her with concern.

“It’s not the dreams again, is it?”

Brittany shakes her head again, “No. I haven’t had one since the last time I told you. I think I’m just worn out.”

“You’re a busy girl,” Whitney nods.

“Is it okay if I stay home today?” Brittany asks hesitantly, “It’s the only day of the week that I don’t really need to be at practice. I think I can access most of my schoolwork online so – “

“It’s okay, Britt. Just rest today,” Whitney says, “Missing a day isn’t going to break you and I know you’ll catch up when you’re feeling better.”

Brittany fills with relief and gives her mom a weak smile. She’s so happy that Whitney’s so understanding, but she guesses that’s come from experience with everything that happened at the beginning of the year with her dad’s passing. Many mental health days were taken, but Whitney never made her feel bad for it. If anything, she always encouraged them.

“Thanks mom,” Brittany says before taking herself back to bed. She’s able to fall asleep fast for once and she doesn’t wake again until she has to use the bathroom.

When she wakes up the third time, it’s just after three. She sees a text from her mom saying that Gran has Pete and she’ll pick him up once she gets off of work so that Brittany can continue resting.

She smiles and sends a text back to thank her before getting up. After a quick snack and a big glass of OJ, Brittany heads to the couch for another nap.

This time, sleep doesn’t find her as easily as it did the other times so she turns on the tv and tries to find something to watch. She decides to put on something she considers boring in hopes that maybe it’ll bore her right to sleep.

Miraculously, her plan works and she settles in for another nap.

An hour or so goes by when Brittany begins to stir because Pete’s trying to squeeze onto the couch next to her. His cold feel touch her bare ankles beneath her blanket and she flinches at the feel.

“Honey, what did I say in the car?” Whitney whispers, “Let your sister rest.”

“I am,” Pete pouts, “I just wanted to sit with her.”

“How about you come help me with – “

“It’s okay, mom,” Brittany pushes to sit up. Pete instantly beams at her, “I’ve slept enough I think.”

“Feeling better?” Whitney asks and brushes her hand over Brittany’s wild hair.

She nods and does a little stretch, “Much better.”

“Good to hear,” Whitney says and bends down to press kisses to Brittany and Pete’s head, “I’m going to make dinner then. Just leftovers so it shouldn’t take long.”

When she heads off for the kitchen, Pete snuggles in closer to Brittany.

“Did you get to watch cartoons all day?” He asks curiously.

Brittany shakes her head, “Nope, but I did take many naps.”

“Nice!”

“Totally.”

Brittany and Pete are watching tv together a moment later when Brittany hears a knock at the front door. Pete jumps up at the sound and rushes to see who it is.

“Don’t open that door, Peter!” Whitney calls out from the kitchen, “Let your sister get it.”

Pete pouts and hangs back as Brittany moves to get up. She chuckles and ruffles up his hair as she passes by. When Brittany takes a peek, she’s shocked by what she sees and quickly opens the door.

“Santana?” Brittany greets. She’s both confused and pleasantly surprised.

“Who are you?” Pete asks curiously with his head tilted up at the Co-Captain.

“Hi,” Santana smiles kind of nervously as she glances between the two. She’s dressed in her Cheerios warm-up gear – she must’ve just finished practice – and has her binder tucked under her arm.

“Uh…I’m Santana,” She answers softly, “And you are?”

“I’m Peter!” Brittany’s brother holds out his hand to shake, “Everyone calls me Pete though, so you can too if you want.”

Santana quirks a brow at him but smiles as she shakes his hand anyway, “Nice to meet you, Pete.”

“Pete, can you go help mom?” Brittany instructs. She waits until he’s run off then asks Santana out of disbelief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in class today,” She says.

“Yeah…I didn’t feel well.”

“Didn’t I say you were going to get sick?” Santana smirks.

“I’m not sick,” Brittany sighs, “I was just tired.”

“Right,” Santana keeps the smirk and motions to her binder, “Well, I brought you the work you missed. It’s kind of important for the paper due in a few weeks.”

Brittany just blinks. Maybe she’s still asleep and this is all a dream?

“Here,” Santana offers and goes to flip through her binder for a couple handouts to give to Brittany.

The blonde accepts them although she’s still trying to grasp the fact that Santana’s standing on her doorstep, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Santana nods and it looks like she’s about to turn away.

“Wait. How’d you know where I lived?” Brittany quickly asks before she can run off.

“Mike told me,” Santana shrugs, “Actually, Mike told Quinn and Quinn told me. Apparently you two are neighbors?”

“Yeah, he likes to tell everyone that,” Brittany chuckles before she gets a sudden burst of confidence and asks, “Did you…want to come in?”

“Uhhh,” Santana looks unsure but then she gives Brittany a small smile, “Okay.”

Brittany opens the door a little wider and leads Santana into the living room. She pushes the blanket she brought down from her room to the side so they can both sit on the couch. Brittany starts to flip through the packet Santana gave her and she’s already dreading the assignment.

“Woah,” Brittany gasps, “This is a lot.”

“Yeah,” Santana nods, “I can help you with it though if you want? Miss Holliday said we can work in groups if we wanted, but we’ll be graded individually.”

Brittany blinks blankly again, “Huh, that’s funny.”

“What?”

Brittany just shakes her head and shrugs, “Just the other week you were insulting me then you stopped talking to me for awhile and now you’re being super helpful. I just can’t get a read on you.”

Brittany wasn’t trying to make Santana feel cornered, she just wanted to open up the conversation. She was over ignoring the obvious, so she went straight for the kill and brought it up head on.

Santana’s shoulders dropped, “Look, I’m…I’m really sorry about that. I was so out of line.”

“Yeah, you really were,” Brittany replies but she isn’t trying to rile Santana up by being argumentative, “You know how many times I’ve heard something similar over the years? Ever since I started playing sports it’s always been: you run like a girl, you throw like a girl, you’re pretty good…for a girl.”

Santana looks apologetically at Brittany and goes to fiddle with her hands in her lap. Brittany notes the familiar motion and decides its something she does when she’s nervous.

Brittany adds, “Like being a girl that plays sports is somehow less than, like it’s a bad thing. I’ve never understood it. I’m just as good as they are.”

Santana shakes her head, “No. I’ve seen you play. You’re so much better.”

“Thanks,” Brittany chuckles weakly, “You know, when I first started I wasn't trying to make some big statement. I didn't want the pressure of being the first female whatever, I just wanted to play. And my family, they've always been super supportive no matter the sport, especially my dad.”

Brittany feels the lump in her throat slowly start to form at his mention and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“He use to come to every game. But people are so stuck on how I've disrupted their precious norms and it makes things harder than they need to be. No matter where I go, the people will either love me or hate me for this. It's crazy. I'm just a girl who loves playing football, why's that so odd?”

“It’s not,” Santana reasons, “You’re a good different, a kind of different a place like this needs.”

Brittany smiles fondly at Santana’s kind words, “Then why did you say what you did?”

Santana pauses for awhile trying to find the right words but in the end she just shakes her head and sighs, “Probably because I’m a bitch?”

Brittany flinches, she doesn’t think that’s the case.

“You’re just…you’re not what I imagined. I thought football players were rough and you’re not like that at all. You’re soft, delicate. You treat with kindness.”

“So does Kurt,” Brittany offers kindly, “And Mike, Sam too.”

“You know what I mean,” Santana replies.

“Yeah, I do. It’s called a stereotype,” Brittany smirks, “Football players happen to come in all shapes and sizes though. Some are soft and delicate like you say I am and some aren’t, but out on the field we’re all the same. We’re one team.”

Santana nods, “I’m sorry about what I said. You have every right to be on that field, same as the guys. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. I guess I’m still trying to adjust too. It’s not really something you see here…”

“I accept your apology,” Brittany grins.

Santana lets out a deep sigh, “This town can be so old school sometimes and it sucks how there are younger generations out here that don’t know any different. They don’t see how wrong it is to have such a shit mentality. I guess I forgot what progression looks like until you came.”

Brittany knows Santana’s being genuine now and it makes the wait for this conversation worth it. She goes to joke, “Well it’s a learning process. Now you know for the next time you come across someone who doesn’t fit the status quo.”

“Yeah,” Santana matches Brittany’s grin, “I really do.”

“Well hello,” Whitney greets as she enters the living room. She glances between Brittany and Santana as Santana rises to her feet. She stands up straight and proper, “You going to introduce me to your friend, Britt?”

Brittany gulps at the label. She doesn’t know if she’d call Santana a friend just yet.

“This is my mom Whitney. Mom, this is Santana,” Brittany says while Santana gives a polite smile, “We have class together. She was just bringing me some work I missed today.”

“That’s so kind of you,” Whitney compliments Santana.

“It was nothing,” Santana replied and glanced to Brittany, “I tried to warn her about the risks of over-doing it. I can’t imagine having a schedule like hers.”

Brittany’s brow rises at the overly polite tone. Who knew Santana was a little suck up when it came to parents. She smirks as she watches it unfold.

“Stubbornness, she gets that from her dad’s side,” Whitney jokes, “Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re just having leftovers but there’s plenty to go around.”

“Lasagna!” Pete cheers as he runs in from the kitchen.

Santana chuckles but shakes her head, “Thank you, but I should probably get home before my mom starts to worry.”

Whitney nods, “Of course. Well, it was lovely meeting you. Come on Petey, let’s make our plates.”

When they both wander off, Brittany’s again standing alone with Santana in the living room.

“So you’re a kiss-ass,” Brittany jokes, “Never would’ve guessed it.”

Santana rolls her eyes despite smiling, “I have a thing with parents. They love me, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Brittany giggles, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you’re secretly kind. Wouldn’t want to ruin your rep.”

“I appreciate it,” Santana quips playfully before gathering her things, “Well, I really should head off before my mom starts blowing up my phone.”

“Cool,” Brittany nods and leads the way over to the front door to walk Santana out, “Well. Thanks again for bringing over the work I missed.”

“No biggie,” Santana waved off as she turned to leave, “Glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Brittany waved and watched Santana make her way over to her little red Mazda with a pleased smile.

Maybe they weren’t exactly friends yet, but compared to the downward spiral they’ve been experiencing…they weren’t enemies either.

And in football terms, that’s called forward progress.

#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction #QB!Britt

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