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dzpenumbra · 1 year ago

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6/5/23

I have a doctor's appointment at 1 PM tomorrow, so I kinda have to do this quick. It's just a physical, hopefully nothing comes of it. I honestly don't really know whether it's worth bringing up mental health shit with them, which seems to be the big issue right now.

I was a bit frustrated this morning, waking up. This whole... no one being able to help me thing. Since I was very young, I had my mom taking me to doctors to figure out what's wrong with me. And, somehow... there was never really an answer... hmm... weird, right? See, in my experience of life, this was very normal. I never questioned the idea of being ferried across state lines as a teenager for scans and procedures and shit as being... abnormal. Even though... it didn't happen to anyone else I knew... even my own brothers... It just never really occurred for me to question that, you know?

That's the insidious part about really difficult things - I don't really know how to word that, honestly... I'm struggling with accurate phrasing. I guess trauma? But like... family shit? And just... environmental shit, you know? Like... how I was talking about how people respond to a cat wanting to play by assuming the cat is being "a dick" or "angry" or something, because they were taught that's what it means, and then shutting it out of the bedroom permanently. You get used to that, it becomes normalized, and you just... never question it. When a cat attacks you, that's what's happening. You already have the answer to that, there's no need to question it.

So... like... me going to doctors is hard. Because there's a really long history there. But also, what I was wrestling with this morning... being told "we can't help you" is super hard. Like... point me in the fucking direction of someone who can, do something! I can't even count how many times I was just told "sorry, can't help you, good luck" and sent off to kick fucking rocks. Doctors. Therapists. "Life Coaches". Vocational Rehabilitation. All the same.

So... again, not sure if it's worth even mentioning that I've really been struggling with anxiety and depression... and PTSD... and grief... and, to be blunt... since I've been shying away from the word a lot lately... agoraphobia. There is definitely phobia attached to me not leaving my apartment, that's indisputable. My therapist and I are addressing all of it, but the plan is... insanely slow-moving, and kinda feels like... Okay. The plan is basically, as far as I can tell, to teach me some skills to try to repair my own self-confidence and self-esteem, and to maintain them properly... so that I can... Get out there and start from scratch. Meet friends, make professional connections, live life. How to do that? Where to go? Who to meet? No fucking clue. Just gonna sit here in my apartment and keep making art and chant to myself nice positive things 5 times a day until I finally get a giant spike of confidence, then I'll... be talked out of going to do something to move my life forward because it might overwhelm me.

Bah. Idk. See, all this over the simple thought: "should I bring up my mental health struggles with my doctor?" The only way he can help is meds and honestly? I do not want to be walking back from the pharmacy through a... what I consider a bad neighborhood... with a fucking controlled substance in my pocket. And I really don't think they're gonna let anyone deliver that shit to my door. And honestly, with how hard it was to get off these things, I really don't feel comfortable voluntarily getting back on them. I don't know, I flip-flop on the idea a lot.

I had this issue with meds when I was on them... the idea of missing a dose or not being able to get a prescription refilled - which happened way too often for comfort - ended up creating more anxiety and stress than not having them. By that I mean... the meds helped reduce how much of that everyday stress and anxiety I felt, but what they don't tell you is that just because you don't feel anxiety and stress, doesn't mean you're not experiencing it. Just because you're anesthetized doesn't mean your body isn't registering pain or damage caused from that, and it still takes a toll. So... I still experienced the everyday stress and anxiety, and the added stress and anxiety of med-related problems. "Did I take my meds?" "Did I miss a dose?" "Did I double-dose accidentally?" "Am I going to have to go into withdrawal because this pharmacy refuses to refill this prescription for whatever reason?" Shit like that.

So yeah. I guess I'm just trying to sort out whether it's even worth bringing up. Because I know for a fact that if I talk to the guy about this the way I'm talking right now? My real voice. The entire appointment will be about that, because I go on forever, and I likely won't leave with anything. That's why I usually let them take the lead and just answer whatever questions they have, unless it's like... urgent.

That said... if I can get prescriptions delivered? I'll have that conversation. It just seems unlikely to me that that's a thing.

Okay... here's thing of the day number 2. I got downstairs today and found my tomato plant... collapsed. It broke my heart. It was like... flopped over at a 90 degree angle. I was on the verge of tears, honestly. I have no idea what happened. It was very cold last night, and... I'm guessing windy? And I watered it last night... And then I wake up and the whole thing is collapsed. The main stem was bent, but not broken... So I scoured the apartment for something to use as a stake. I ended up settling on a plastic coat hanger, which I cut the big long straight section out of, and loosely tied the plant to the stake. And... it actually seems to have stood itself back up over the course of the day. I legit don't know if it's going to survive, but... I think it might! But god did that scare the shit out of me. Poor thing. I remember back when I had a legit raised bed garden and tons of tomato plants (my first garden, which I completely got myself in over my head with...) I had a ton of trellises that I used for the tomatoes. This kit that my brother got me, it's a cherry tomato plant, but it's grown in a big glass jar full of soil. They never once mentioned any kind of stake or trellis needed for this. Now... I'm debating getting something for the chili too. Just to be... proactive.

The good news that goes with that? And why I was so devastated... The tomato sprouted its first flower buds, they're still very very tiny but if the plant recovers well... the flowers should start before too long! And the philodendron cuttings are doing really well. Two of them are almost ready to be planted. I'm just debating whether I want to plant them separately or have them share the same pot. I'm guessing separately makes the most sense. My blackberry seeds have not germinated... unfortunately... I don't know if they still need time or not... but hell, it doesn't hurt to just give it time. So I'm thinking of just giving them another week or something and then if they still haven't sprouted, I'll toss some basil starters in there and get that going.

I'm very excited about being a plant-father. I did do the whole outdoor garden thing one summer with my ex (it was basically just me, tbh), but that felt much more... hands-off. I kinda just let them do their thing, and they did great, even got a bunch of watermelons out of the deal! ... Actually, now that I think about it, I think it was 2 summers. There was... lettuce, onions?, green beans, jalapenos, and a bunch of tomatoes the first year... no, it was broccoli, not onions. But the broccoli, idk what happened, I think bugs got to it. The second year I think was more lettuce, strawberries, cucumbers and watermelons. Hard to remember, it was a while ago.

I am much more... attentive to my plants now, I know them much better. And that is a very two-sided feeling. I love the adventure of getting really passionate about something new and diving into it - it's a huge part of my life, something I am constantly trying to do, always try new things, always learn, always grow - but the older I get, the more I feel that whole... beginner's shame thing. The clumsiness. Making avoidable mistakes. I felt so much more... immune to it when I was younger. Now... it's weird, it feels like a social expectation that if you're an adult, you aren't going to make beginner mistakes... at anything. My family is absolutely an extreme example of that, but I really do think it can just be put onto people by society. Like... I remember at the bagel shop I worked at... If a teenager fucked up, it was kinda expected. If someone over 40 fucked up? Like a simple mistake? It always felt like... "hey man, you should know better." And honestly, that's kinda bullshit on both sides. Don't assume that young people are inept. And engage with them if they make mistakes so that they can learn what happened and how to course correct. Don't just go, "ugh, dumb kid, I'll go fix your mistake, get out of my way." And with older people, don't just get mad if someone is new at something. You can't just magically know how to do things, this isn't the fucking Matrix.

Anyway, just mentioning that because I kinda felt that when the plant fell today. I just... I know it was just a fluke thing, but I kinda blamed myself. Like I should've known better. And I have been a bit reserved about propagating the succulents in fear that I might... "fuck up"... due to inexperience. But, thankfully, that feeling was actually motivating for me. I need to fuck up. I need to fuck up and see that it really is not the end of the world, and learn from that, and move forward. It's so goddamn important to do that. Not to be blind about it, or arrogant about it... like... don't go too far in that impulsive direction... but I need to push forward out of my whole "play it super safe" shit. It is the anti-anxiety. It's me being super scared and saying fuck it and dropping in on a quarterpipe when I haven't done that in over 14 years. I need that. Mini leaps of faith. They are so good for confidence. I just need to be okay with the fact that sometimes, I'm gonna fall, and that's okay. That's why we learn how to fall safely.

It's getting late, tarot time.

Past - XII: The Hanged One, inverted (Opportunity for new perspective, evolution through stillness and stagnation, evolution through sacrifice or loss. The interconnectedness of perspective and sacrifice, and the need to act on them for substantial change. Let go.) Present - XXI: The World, inverted (Dreams and passions being rewarded. Newfound success. Reaping what you have sown.) Future - VIII: Strength, inverted (Overcoming fear, mastery of emotions through equilibrium and inner strength.)

Another three inverted cards... XD Yay!!! This time, all Major Arcana cards. Let's dive in, this one doesn't seem... too complicated, at first glance.

The start of the thread is... a blockage or disorder/dysfunction in... finding a new perspective? Maybe being stuck in loss, or stillness? I was going to look for more guidance from other sources on this, but I'm just going to try to work it out myself. The concept of the Hanged One is... as far as I recall... at least in part a reference to a story about Odin, hanging himself upside-down from a great tree in order to... gain great insight and wisdom. It's a literal sacrifice made to elicit a metaphoric transformation, and a shift of perspective. A new way of seeing the world. One of great sacrifice, but the gift is worth the price, kinda thing. So... if that's not working... maybe I'm missing the message? Or haven't fully transformed yet?

That connects to The World, inverted. Which is... the big reward. The culmination of hopes and dreams, goals and aspirations. And... it's also stuck, or blocked, or... something's wrong with it, something's preventing it. Likely that transformation that hasn't finished.

That is connected to... Strength, inverted. Which is the embodiment of a symbiotic alliance between emotions and intellect. Harmony with your fear, an inner strength. Which... is blocked, or gone on the fritz, as well.

So, tl;dr... I'm missing something in my new perspective? A blind spot? Or I haven't finished transforming yet? And that is why my ambition is not paying off. Which, in turn, is causing fear to rule my life and my emotions to run rampant. So... what am I missing? What more do I need in order to transform? ... I drifted off in my head there for a bit realizing the silliness of grilling myself to find what blind spot I have. XD As though pressing harder will make me just magically see it!

Alright, I really need to get to bed. Fingers crossed I can get to sleep in a timely manner and this appointment goes well.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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animanightmate · 3 years ago

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What do you do if you write something for a person but they dont acknowledge it? The person made it a point to requested something from you and then never commented that they either: liked it. Didnt like it or didnt read it or dont wanna read it etc…… do you keep writing? Quit writing it? Remove the connect between you and them- like mentions or tags or gifts? just being a little salty. ☹️ I worked hard for them and they doesnt care to respond at all- been several weeks now- plenty of time to say something. I want to tag another person (and remove the previous person) in it because they were a totally unexpected reader that really appreciated it and told me so. But I don’t want to offend the person who requested the work. what should I do?

Hey Anon, that does sound super-frustrating! If you've put a lot of work in for a particular request, it must feel like your effort is being disregarded.

I guess... if you've heard literally nothing about the piece from the person in question, you might want to check some stuff first:

Do they actually know you've written it? For them? It's possible they've either not seen the tag or tumblr/ AO3 hasn't notified them. I was tagged in something a couple of weeks ago and I only knew about it because someone mentioned it elsewhere - tumblr can definitely be Like That.

Have they been on the platform on which you've tagged them for other stuff, in the meantime? Maybe they're just having a break/ can't access the platform right now...

Are they busy/ sick/ overwhelmed at the moment? I had an unsolicited gift written for me once as an extension of a fic of mine and, even though the person concerned had commented on my fic to say they were planning this and asked was it all right to do, I freaked out for days. (I loved it and was immensely flattered but behold: freaking out!) I also know that, when my health is particularly poor, even though I keep meaning to get around to responding to people about various things, my executive function departs and then it's weeks since I "should" have said something, and it becomes even more embarrassing to respond after a gap...

Some more questions for you, as the writer:

Are you enjoying the story? If so, keep going, I reckon! Even if the original impetus has actually now gone, the gift to you of the tale remains.

If someone else is enjoying it (too), is that enough? Personally, I think you should definitely keep writing for their enjoyment. Whether you gift it to them as well/ instead is up to you.

How will you feel if you never finish writing it? To my mind, there's a lot to be said for Just Writing The Thing. It's a really important discipline to get into, for one. I've had creative commissions where I really haven't been feeling it, and the original patron has disappeared, but the sense of achievement in finishing the piece you set out to do, even if it's not your finest work, or the patron in question never looks at it once, is a very distinct one. And, from experience, the muscle memory of forging through like that will help get you through writer's block on things you really want to write in the future. (And oddly, some of those commissions have been the ones that have resonated the strongest with other people (while some of my personal favourites languish in the meh pile, as far as other audiences are concerned...).)

How important is that other person's opinion to you? In absolute honesty? How would you feel if they actually hated it? Or adored it? What would it change about your own feelings for the piece? It seems to me as though it has a life of its own now. What do you think?

Thank you, anon, for this exercise (if that doesn't sound too cold!) - I've never had an anonymous query before, for one thing, and, for another, responding has got me thinking about my own practice and motivations (and pieces I've left languishing lately). I hope this has been in some way helpful to you, and I guess I'd have one more piece of advice on which to part: if you haven't already, maybe just ask them what they think. If it's that important to you, it sounds like checking in with them would be the way to go. If it isn't, well, there's your answer, I suppose! 😊

#anon #anonymous #anon ask #writing advice #not being able to get answers to coaching questions is a weird experience!#writing tips #writing to commission #gifts #thanks anon!

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0littlestwolf0 · 4 years ago

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Clever as a fox

Yandere! Stiles Stilinski

Ship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: Stalking, overlooked obsessive behavior.

Requested by: Anonymous

You had almost wondered why he was following you.

I mean, for someone else it would’ve been extremely unsettling to see that same sky-blue Jeep everywhere you went, or the same brown eyes glancing at the distance, but it was Stiles, and everything that involved him was weird.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. He probably had an explanation, you thought, maybe he thinks that the newest threat in town is following you, or maybe he thinks you are the newest threat, that made you shiver.

How could you be a threat?

You had been on their side from the beginning, well, your beginning at least, since the first time you discovered you weren’t human it was as if Scott had smelled it immediately, well he literally did, and then came the questions.

What do you want? How long has this been going on? Are you the benefactor?

Soon followed by your newest stalker hitting his best friend on the back of his head “Do you really think she would tell us if she was?” And then you laughed, histerically, it wasn’t even funny, it didn’t even make sense, for fuck’s sake!

But there you were, laughing uncontrollably at the entire weirdness of your actual situation, who would’ve thought that the same girl that had been so worried about failing a class was now equally worried about not getting killed by a werewolf, or the mute, and don’t forget the berserkers!

Stiles, you recognized him from your economy class, was raising a brow at you “I don’t even know who the benefactor is, I’ve been like this-“ you gestured to your newely discovered supernatural self “since last weekend, and no, I can’t control it”

“She’s telling the truth” said the one with a crooked jaw, Scott, you remembered, those two were hard to forget after years getting in trouble with the coach.

And with that Stiles just shook his head, a low, breathed laugh left him “Of course she’d be supernatural” he mumbled ironically, not fully understanding, you tilted your head, and just like that Scott nudged him and with that Stiles’ ears turned pink, he’d said too much, yet too little for you to understand.

After that everything became a rush, you had to be quick to get ready in the mornings for school, make sure to get there on time, be a good student during the day, as soon as the bell rang your priorities shifted and now it was about surviving another day, going with the boys (they usually took you on their little quests before you could ask) or Malia and Lydia to find the big bad and try to keep everyone alive, then you back home and finish your homework.

It was truly tiring.

But also fascinating. You loved this new normal of yours, even if it didn’t leave much time for yourself, but being in the line so constant made you feel alive and you loved it.

Also the friends you’ve made were amazing, each one of them had shown you how ready they were to fight for you and that warmed your heart. Scott always made sure to keep you and everyone else safe, Stiles helped you at all moments, you didn’t even understand how he could be so good to you, somehow he knew your favorite warm drink that he would buy every morning for you before you arrived to the school, then he’d help you with your homework and save you from angry professor glances.

Malia literally had said that she would kill for you, and with that look on her eyes you believed her, Lydia was more quiet about it, but she made sure to keep your social life alive, and if you were in danger she wouldn’t hesitate to help you.

And just like them you were blindly devoted to the pack.

Which brought back the question, why was Stiles following you? Then you decided to make a move, you saw him groan and look everywhere but behind him “Where are you? Where are you?” He’d keep mumbling.

You traced the back of his neck with your index finger trying to scare him and he turned around with a little scream, his eyes widened and you noticed that in all the commotion he had taken a hold of your wrist.

You were at an empty alley, making it even weirder about why would he follow you there. “You scared me!” He whispered/yelled and you giggled, his eyes softened at the sound.

“Care to tell me why you were following me?” You asked and he looked down, his face becoming pink, if you’d known him better you would’ve known that he was always quick with answers, and that didn’t mean they were true “I wanted to give you my notes” it was a quick answer, not a change on his voice.

You tilted your head “But I went to the full day today” you shrugged, believing he might have thought otherwise “Oh! But I tought you could use them for the exam” now he was shrugging, way more confident in his answer than before. You believed the lie, if you’d known him better you would’ve noticed the little details, the way he spoke faster when he was lying than when he said the truth.

It was funny, you realized a bit too late, how he was more confident in his lies than he was in anything true.

But we haven’t reached that point of the story yet.

It became a little better after that, he would still do those little things for you that went a long way plus he would appear in your door every evening to study with you, he’d said you both needed to study because you were all falling behind.

You however didn’t notice the angry looks he’d give everyone other than Scott when they approached you, male or female everyone whose eyes lingered a little too long on you was a rival on his eyes.

For you it was almost like puppy love, you didn’t notice the things he did, and it wasn’t naivety, he is probably the most cunning and cleverest person you knew, clever as a fox you had said once and his whole demeanor changed.

That you didn’t fail to notice, but you tried to shrug it off, he’d tell you when he was ready.

Things would’ve never escalated if everything continued like it had been, him always by your side, you might study different things but he had already planned renting an apartment with you, he’d convince you, and then you’d be with him forever.

But no, Theo Reaken had to come to town and ruin everything he had going on.

The first time he knew he’d hate him was the first day of their senior year, when Theo winked at you, Stiles frowned and thought of a thousand ways to kill that freaking werewolf. But you had held his hand and whispered reassuring things on his ears, that calmed him down, and again it could’ve worked like that.

But the doctors wanted you, so Theo took you while you were asleep, he tied you up and set you on a cell before you woke up, pretending to be another victim there, he was a pathological liar who seemed unwilling to risk his facade, even as the doctors experimented on your blood.

Not seeing you that morning at school started to make his anxiety override, but he breathed and tried to convince himself that maybe you’d gotten a cold, or something, but you weren’t answering his calls either.

He missed first period running to Roscoe and then getting to your house, then the day became a blur on his eyes, your entire house was empty, but your car was still outside, your kitchen clean and the house seemed undisturbed, but as soon as he set foot in your room his stomach dropped.

Your bed was a mess, as if you’d tried sleeping but then woken up in a hurry, your shoes were still on the floor, but it was the window that convinced him that everything was wrong, your window was open.

You heated leaving any door or window open, you were too proud to admit it but you were scared of what could get in or out.

He called Scott and in a matter of minutes he was there, he said that he smelt a second scent in your room but he couldn’t place it, whoever did it was good at hiding their tracks.

They searched for you for a week, when they got a big clue, they knew to go in the sewers, they found the lab but retreated to make a plan (that didn’t include Stiles) and for once he didn’t fight it, because he had his own plan.

He knew it would be dangerous, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get you back like he was. The idea scared him, but the thought of losing you killed him. So he stole the wooden box.

It would be different this time, he convinced himself. Because this time he wouldn’t fight it.

With a shaky breath he placed it inside his backpack, he’d try getting you back on his own first, and if it didn’t work...

It had to work.

But he didn’t get too far when he started hearing you screaming in pain, his legs began to shake, and his eyes watered as he ran towards the sound, every scream was a knife settling in his heart, and he doubted he’d ever be free of the sound.

And then he saw you, lying there in a metal bed as three very scary figures loomed over you, injecting things in your arms and legs, whatever it was was hurting you. He didn’t have to consider it twice, those figures would kill him if they saw him.

He tried swallow the lump in his throat as he opened the intricate box, the irony of it being him who seeks that power would overwhelm him in any other situation. But the fly didn’t waste time as it flew directly and entered his ear, Stiles groaned, trying to stay quiet as he felt almost as if his brain was being ripped in pieces.

Let me in. I can save her. He heard in his own voice, but he doubted, the Nogitsune had killed Allison-

Your heartbreaking scream followed by sobs made him choose. He let it in.

#yandere stiles stilinski #void stiles #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #yandere #void stiles x reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #roscoe

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woahsehun · 3 years ago

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nct most likely to be able to survive a week in an american public highschool

if anyone is confused, I would be happy to answer any questions regarding why american highschool is in fact a game of survival

now, onto the victims

*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.••*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*

1. johnny- obvious. done it, did it, could do it again

2. yangyang- would not only survive but would thrive

3. jaehyun- was on the road to it and would not only do it he would also be the token weird jock

4. hendery- I love them but him and yangyang would be my morning math class nightmare

5. ten- theater kid and would survive

6. taeil- honestly everyone loves him and he’d get good grades he’d be fine. on student council (not president tho)

7. yuta- would not enjoy it but is strong enough to survive, also would be kind of a pariah. the schools wild card - is somehow a theater kid, jock, and art kid all in one

8. sungchan- golden boy and would be fine but maybe kinda scared. taller than his locker :/

9. jungwoo- also a fine golden boy but would be grossed out by the whole environment and experience

10. mark- would also be fine maybe even thrive. goofy jock 🥰

11. jeno- would probably be fine tbh I think he would just chill. smiles at everyone he walks by in the hallways (.◜◡◝ )

12. lucas- everyone including me is crushing on him but he would not enjoy it there I don’t think. would enjoy being able to eat his lunch outside though

13. shotaro- would live. bc he’s shy enough to be on everyones good side but not so shy that people think it’s weird

14. jaemin- somehow a popular catboy would survive but I would never put him through that. sports coaches want him so bad but he just doesn’t feel like competing. takes pictures for the yearbook staff

15. haechan- would survive pretending to like it maybe, but idk nah teachers would dislike him. class clown and whines about having to take notes. tries to convince taeil they need redbull in the vending machines

16. taeyong- would definitely survive but he doesn’t deserve that and his brain would probably melt. very stressed and would never take the stairs only the elevator (his backpack is heavy and his first class in on the third floor okay give him a break :( )

17. xiaojun- him and his tight dance practice shirt r too good for this, would just barely live tho. musical theater kid but only bc of his angel voice. not his fault he’s just not committed to the story idk

18. renjun- would live but suffer. someone tried to stuff him in a locker once and it did not end well. for the other student I mean. the art teacher LOVES him, he doesn’t like them tho. still has his art all over the school good for u bb good for u <3

19. jisung- would survive by a very slim margin. previously a rolling backpack owner. is incredibly stressed and his backpack is huge. forgets his lunchbox on the bus one day and it’s all downhill from there

20. chenle- would drop out, definitely not for him. would play basketball for a little in gym class first tho

21. kun- do not put him through that he’s strong but can only take so much I mean his locker isn’t big enough and the guy behind him keeps kicking the back of his seat god get him outta there. also could be on student council tho

22. doyoung- no. no tolerance for american public school. his best bet would be to make friends w the nurses but no. head of the yearbook staff.

23. winwin- do not put this man anywhere near an american public school he does not deserve nor can he handle what goes on around those grounds

#johnny yangyang and jaehyun are the ones that jump up and slapp the tops of doorways when they walk through them #mark always balls up his papers to throw rhem in the trash #always misses #jisung would eat lunch in the nurses office #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #wayv #nct u #nct au #nct drabbles #nct headcanons #nct scenarios

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vagrantblvrd · 3 years ago

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That one AU where Ryan’s undercover, right?

Still with Narco or maybe he’s been shuffled around a bit, moved over to Robbery right around the time Homicide and Beckett get the case with Finch and Esposito’s old partner. (Or maybe a case crossed over and he’s being loaned out, idk, details and so on???)

And at the beginning of the case in comes Detective Demming in Robbery, formerly out of the 54th.

Castle is like >:(((((( because the man is just too pretty, and also probably rescues cats out of trees on his days off, and honestly, is he the only one to see this Detective Tom Demming as what he truly is?

(In his experience, someone who seems too good to be true isn’t, but clearly this Demming has bamboozled not only Beckett but Esposito and Captain Montgomery as well and it is up to the intrepid author of the group to prove it! ...as soon as he finds evidence.)

Meanwhile.

The case proceeds as usual and Lanie finds Ike’s prints on Finch’s body, which, you know Drama.

In comes Holliwell and the accusations and whatnot.

Esposito going to see Carol and Tim and asking if she knew and all that fun stuff?

But then!

Someone finds out that Finch was in contact with this guy, someone who could help them with a Thing (technical issue, get them something else they needed, who can say, right?) and of course it happens to by this guy who happens to know Demming.

Seems delighted to see him, all friendly like as they haul him in to ask a few questions and he’s got this smirk and is “hey, Demming. See you’ve moved up in the world,” and generally being a cocky little shit because he knows they can’t pin anything on him and also he has an alibi, but yeah, sure. Why not humor the cops for a bit? Should be fun.

Demming is just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because yes, okay, he knows this little weasel. Busted him a few times for minor offenses and the whatnot but he always gets out and no one can make anything stick. But. He’s got a reputation for being able to get people what they need and rumors tying him to a string of robberies in a case a few years ago they were never able to solve.

But everyone knows he had something to do with it, you know?

So they ask him a few questions and get a lead. Doesn’t pan out, but what did they expect, really? (The next time they haul him in he does have a lead that pans out, so that’s nice.)

Shenanigans and whatnot, they see the footage showing Finch’s wife and Ike casing the bank and bring her in for questioning. Esposito races to Ike’s with Beckett and he has that conversation about it that’s all about Drama.

Back to the precinct and Beckett sparring with Demming and the “stealthy” sneaking around to get Demming’s SIM card and ~reveal that oh, yeah, no.

Not a dirty cop and you should all feel ashamed about even considering the possibility because the man is an angel, okay? An absolute angel.

(He definitely rescues cats out of trees on his way to coach underprivileged kids, you know he does.)

And then!

Esposito running off to help Ike steal the ledger and Demming is like ah, yes, Esposito is totally taking “a walk” and excuses himself to make a phone call, as you do.

Beckett and the others realize Holliwell is the dirty cop and since Esposito isn’t back yet – but before they can theorize as to why that is, Demming comes back in and says a “reliable source” told him Ike’s going after the ledger as they speak and with Esposito nowhere to be found it makes sense he’d be with him, right?

There’s this Moment where Beckett and Castle do the brain-twin thing and go hmmmm because it’s a little too convenient how Demming came by that info, but no time to worry about that now, they have to get to Ike and Esposito before Holliwell does.

Holliwell showing up to catch Esposito and Ike in the act and the pew-pew shooting before Beckett and the others catch Holliwell trying to make a break for it.

AND THEN.

Shenanigans in which other cases are dealt with and every so often Demming shows up and oh, hey.

Also Demming’s little weasel buddy?

Enough that he starts in on giving Esposito and the others grief too when they bring him in for questioning?

(Kind of weird how he keeps popping up, but whatever. Demming says the guy’s just like that and you just get used to it? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Eventually though, there’s a case, right?

Some murder that’s tied to drugs and robberies and homicide(s) and he’s a suspect – and then a key witness – and all the good will and trust he’s built up with his little criminal circle doesn’t mean a damn thing when someone put a price on his head and anyway.

“Wait, what?”

Because they have to protect him from the baddies – a stipulation if they want the information he’s got in that head of his – and it’s like.

Like, sure. They could do that, or they could maybe put more pressure on the guy? Beckett and Esposito could break him, just give them time, and Demming is like.

“I mean, you could, but it wouldn’t get you much. Trust me.”

And so the safehouse and Demming’s little weasel courting painful, drawn-out murderization from Beckett and the others with all the shit he gives them? Seems delighted by it like he has no idea how close they are to snapping, and does he realize they definitely how to hide a body where no one will find it, but whatever.

The thing is, Beckett and the others would rather die than admit that yes, okay. They, too, have a soft spot for the little bastard the way Demming seems to?

Such a little shit, but weirdly endearing and also he has helped them out a time or two before, you know?

He really gets under Esposito's skin, though. Because flirty little bastard and Castle is like a kid in a candy store because a criminal willing to share stories and whatnot who hasn’t (yet) threatened to kill him!

Incredible!

Amazing!

(Also, a fan!)

Beckett kind of loves the way he pushes Esposito’s buttons and he’s just. It’s hard not to like him. (She pointedly ignores the looks she gets from Demming because they’re all of the “I told you so” variety and anyway.)

And then!

After a couple of days of this the weasel disappears on them – and it’s all !!! and also >:((((((((((( because not only how, but why????

Demming goes to get answers from his people while Beckett and the others try to find out where the little bastard’s gone.

Realize, after going over what they know about the case and the little bastard that of course he’s gone to talk to someone – make a deal with his boss (the one who put the price on his head) or something and anyway -

Demming runs into them to tell them there’s some kind of meet going on...somewhere and his weasel’s involved, and then madcap race to get there before the little bastard gets himself killed.

Shenanigans in which the bad guy gets the drop on Beckett and the others, looks like the whole gang is about to be murderized, right?

Drama and Bad Guy Confessions Via Monologue, the weasel about to get murdered for real, but what’s this?

A bunch of cops in from Narco and Robbery, also Captain Montgomery and associates and all cavalry to the rescue to save the day?

Bad guys in cuffs being led off and Esposito hauling the weasel along, pissed off like you wouldn’t believe because of course the little bastard snuck out on his watch – scared the shit out of him – and just.

Very much Annoyed.

Demming takes charge of the little weasel when they get back to the station, had this odd little smile on his face as Esposito hauled him away, right? One Beckett and Castle just could not figure out and then!

Beckett and the others up in Homicide finishing off reports and whatnot and not quite ready to head home?

She gets a call from Demming, says he has someone he wants them to meet and if everyone’s still there? To which she is like yes?????

And then!

Few minutes later the elevator goes ding!

Ding goes the elevator and out comes Demming and his little weasel?

No cuffs this time, and it looks like he’s had time to clean up and get a change of clothes, which is probably for the best because of all the blood and whatnot after being knocked around by the bad guys before Beckett and the others showed up.

Which also huh, you know, huh. Like, sure. Guy’s not their murder suspect, but also other crimes and why, okay, why is Demming smiling like that? Why is the weasel smiling like that?

(He does clean up well, though. Not that Esposito is staring or anything, goodness no.)

“Thought you’d like to meet Detective Kevin Ryan.”

Shit-eating grins on both their faces and Beckett and the others like what and then attempted murder of Ryan by Esposito because that little shit, and then shenanigans?

Also going out for drinks and the telling of a story that involves undercover work and many instances of running into Beckett and the others and being like – “Do you guys ever get a normal homicide case?” because Kevin’s new here and doesn’t realize and anyway.

For some reason Kevin Ryan ends up transferring to Homicide and Esposito grumbles to anyone who will listen for forever afterwards about getting stuck with him, but it’s pretty obvious someone needs to look out for the idiot.

And then shenanigans and Castle still prying stories and whatnot out of Ryan every chance he gets – Esposito gets this look on his face when he’s around for one because they’ve all gotten to know the little idiot by now and how the hell is he not dead yet???

And perhaps, also, there is still ~flirting because Ryan is still a little shit and Esposito cannot with this moron, but also there’s a betting pool, because of course there is.

Castle has a !!! “My goodness, I never would have expected you, of all people, to take part in this,” to Demming when he ponies up some money for the betting pool on how long until those idiots figure out their shit.

(Meanwhile, Ryan gets in on the betting pool about Beckett and Castle because how do they not see it and anyway, yes.)

Shenanigans???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#castle nonsense #castle #rysposito #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #i'm love them #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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spine-buster · 4 years ago

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 32

A/N: Another ‘friend’ of ours makes an appearance in this chapter (unfortunately for me lmao)

August 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was as prepared as she could be for Game 1 against the Columbus Blue Jackets.

Scotiabank Arena was freezing – more freezing than normal – because of the three-games-a-day and all the hockey being played. She knew the players and team personnel would complain if the ice was crap (apparently they could tell, though it beat the shit out of her how they could tell), and of course Scotiabank Arena, and the Leafs in general, wanted to make an excellent impression. They were the centre of the hockey world, so Aberdeen knew they could pull it off. It just didn’t help that it was August and it felt like early November indoors.

She joined Brendan and Kyle in their usual box – luckily they didn’t have to give that up. The team was taking their pre-game skate below and Aberdeen watched as William shot pucks towards Freddie in the net, sneaking one past him before skating around their perimeter of the rink a few times. On the other side of the ice, the Columbus Blue Jackets were doing the exact same thing, though she barely knew or recognized a soul on the team. One of them could walk by her in the arena and she wouldn’t know better.

“How do you think it’s gonna go?” Brendan asked from six feet away from her, his black mask covering his face.

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. “You should stop asking me these questions, Brendan. I know nothing about hockey.”

“That may be,” he said, not letting up, “but you know the boys, on a level far superior than your knowledge of hockey. So what do you say?”

Aberdeen thought about it. She knew them on a personal level, but that didn’t matter at all – at least she didn’t think it mattered – when it came to a playoff game. She knew how much pressure the guys were under. She also knew that they were still adjusting to the bubble life and how weird everything was. Make no mistake – they were being taken care of exceptionally well by the staff at the Royal York Hotel, and Aberdeen made sure she said a loud thank you to every worker she came across and interacted with. She heard every single one of the guys do the exact same thing. But she didn’t know how that would translate into a hockey game. They were two different things. They were to different entities that she had no idea how to join together.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, her voice soft. “When you ask me these questions, I feel like you want me to be Nostradamus or something. What if I said they were going to lose 2-0?”

“I’d believe you,” Brendan shrugged.

***

The Leafs lost 2-0.

“C’mon Nostradamus,” Brendan said as he packed up his clipboard and tucked it under his arm. “The social media posts can wait. You need to go mediate the post-game interviews and press calls.”

Aberdeen packed up her iPad after she rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have responded ‘They’re going to win 5-0!’ the first time he ever asked her that question and kept that answer throughout the entire season. She followed six feet behind Kyle, who was in turn six feet behind Brendan, as they made their way to the locker room. By the time they got there, Sheldon was nearing the end of his post-game speech. Most of the guys were half undressed – at least at the top – and a few of them were shoving off their elbow pads and chucking their tape from their socks into the bins. They all looked irritated.

She made her way into the media room and set up the Zoom call where a bunch of reporters joined. Morgan and Auston walked into the room, and she quickly typed in the chat which players were there so they could organize their questions accordingly. Morgan and Auston sat down in their chairs.

“Is Steve on the call?” Auston asked suddenly while Aberdeen was adjusting the camera.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” she asked.

Auston pursed his lips together and shrugged it off.

The interviews were going fine. She hated hearing the sound of her own voice on recordings but she knew she’d have to suck it up for the sake of the media call. She called on each reporter by name. The boys answered their questions. It was all very routine.

“Steve Simmons from the Toronto Sun,” Aberdeen called out. She waited, and while waiting, she saw Morgan’s and Auston’s demeanour completely change.

“Uhhh, Steve Simmons, Toronto Sun for Auston – it’s one thing to hear about how tight they play, and to even watch the films of how tight they play. What was it like to experience it?”

Auston took the lead. “Uh, well I mean first of all, it’s unfortunate that I’mn getting a question from you at this point, Steve, but I just wanted to say I didn’t really appreciate the article you wrote about me a couple months ago. I thought, uh, it was very unethical to be honest, but…uh, moving along…”

Aberdeen didn’t hear the rest of his answer. Truthfully, she didn’t care. All she could feel was a burning sensation shooting up her spine at Auston’s words. He did it. He called out Steve Simmons, the most annoying reporter known to mankind.

She smirked.

***

After the media interviews, Aberdeen found a quiet space and took out her iPad again to post the final score graphic to the team’s Instagram page. As she finished typing the caption – ‘Battled hard. Back at it on Tuesday.’ – she heard some fairly loud footsteps behind her before they stopped. “A girl?” a voice from behind her said.

She didn’t recognize it – and it wasn’t like anybody from the team would refer to her as “a girl” – so she furrowed her brows and turned around. She saw what had to be a member of the Columbus Blue Jackets staring at her. She couldn’t see it, but she automatically knew from the way he was standing and the energy he gave off that he was smirking smugly underneath his mask. “Yeah, we exist,” she shot him a look, not ready to take any bullshit from him or anybody else. The way these men thought she was a complete novelty astounded her. “Have you never seen one of us before?”

“So Barzy was right,” the man continued. “The Leafs have a girl in their bubble. Incredible.”

Aberdeen could tell by the way he said and emphasized girl that this conversation – if you could call it that – was gonna be a doozy. The guy was huge but didn’t look any older than she was, so she knew she would be able to put him in his place. “What are you even doing in this hallway? You’re not supposed to be on this side,” she said sternly. “I suggest you leave and go back to your area of the arena unless you want me to complain to the NHL that your breaching protocol.”

From the very end of the hallway, another figure walked by, stopping at the gap when he apparently found who he was looking for. Aberdeen could at least recognize him – John Tortorella, the head coach of the Columbus Blue Jackets. “Pierre, what the fuck are you doing there? Come on, we gotta go.”

The man, named Pierre, gave Aberdeen a smoldering look. She rolled her eyes. “Must have taken a wrong turn,” he said, loud enough so John would hear.

Dead set on not taking any bullshit, and just really, really wanting to put this guy in his place, Aberdeen didn’t let up. “Perhaps you should remind Pierre of how to speak to the staff of another NHL team,” she said sternly. Both men were too far away to notice how red she was getting, but she could see Pierre whip his head to look at her and his eyes go wide in shock. “And perhaps he should read another copy of the social distancing and bubble protocols tonight in his bedroom so he doesn’t make this unfortunate decision again,” she said, deliberately using ‘decision’ instead of ‘mistake’, because she fucking knew this was no mistake. She wondered what other rumours were swirling in the Royal York about a girl being in the Leafs bubble.

Pierre scurried to the end of the hallway. From her spot, she could hear John chuckle. “You must be the Aberdeen Bloom I’ve only ever heard good things about,” he said. “Keep it up. I might ask you to take my place to keep the boys in line.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Pierre took one last look between his coach and ‘the girl’. “I could take ‘em,” Aberdeen commented, getting a nod from John before he and Pierre disappeared.

She let out a breath.

***

After the team got back to the hotel, picked up their pre-packaged dinner, and settled into their rooms, Aberdeen showered and changed. She sat at the desk where she put the meal and took out her phone. She sent some quick texts to her parents, Siena, and Camden before bringing up William’s name.

U up?

lmao minskatt isnt that what i should be saying to u *wink emoji*

Do you want to eat dinner together?

of course

I’m ready whenever you are babe

She waited for him to start the call. Not even two minutes later, her phone began to ring and “Head Empty” flashed across the screen. She accepted the FaceTime call almost immediately. When it connected and he appeared on her screen, walking in his hotel room with his bathrobe on and his hair wet and tied back, she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi minskatt,” he said, his voice low. She watched as he put a pair of headphones on. “That’s better.”

Hers were already in. “I’m sorry about the game tonight,” she said, perching her phone on a high point on the desk. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not really. At least, not right now,” he said, putting his phone down too. “Maybe later. Like, after we have dinner.”

“Promise me we will.”

“I promise,” he said, looking into the phone. He knew she would want him to talk about it, and he made her a promise all those months ago. He would never break it. “Right now I just want to have dinner over FaceTime with my girlfriend even though we’re less than fifty feet away from each other.”

Aberdeen chuckled, if only because she agreed wholeheartedly that this whole thing was ridiculous. The tone of William’s voice made her know that he thought it completely ridiculous too. “It’s hard. I know. At least we get free food,” she held up a forkful of the marinated chicken breast. “And good food. It’s not like it’s airplane food.”

William smiled slightly. “First thing I do when we get out of here is bring you to Canoe or Ardo or Miku and splurge on every meal they have on the menu,” he said.

“Sounds good to me. Maybe by then I’ll have a new job to celebrate, anyway.”

“How’s the article coming along?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. She’s started in the other day and already had about 1500 words worth of material. She figured the best way to go about it was keep a sort of diary every day and then edit it down when she could. “Might talk about how fucking awkward you hockey boys are these days with women.”

“I’m excluded from that, right?” he asked. “I mean, I totally swept you off your feet when we first met.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You did.”

***

August 3rd, 2020

Aberdeen accompanied the team to one of the workout facilities just so she could catch a glimpse of sone sunshine on the day off. Instead of working out, she sat on the sidelines of where all the equipment was and the boys worked out, furiously typing away on her personal laptop. Every so often when she’d glance up, she’d see Morgan’s thighs almost ripping through his shorts as he did some lunges; she’d see Auston’s biceps almost bursting through his sleeves as he lifted weights above his head; she’d see William’s thick torso exposed as his shirt rode up from him throwing a heavy medicine ball above his head.

A million girls in this city would kill her to be in her position.

And here she was, writing 10,000 words about them instead of ogling them. Well, everyone except her secret boyfriend.

***

August 4th, 2020

Game 2.

Aberdeen was confident that the boys would respond to Columbus’s win in Game 1. She could tell in their energy throughout the day and in the arena they were ready and they were ready to win.

“Hey Nostradamus,” Brendan called out, winking. Aberdeen saw Kyle chuckle from behind his mask. “What’s the score gonna be?”

“Oh shut it,” she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking to herself. Except she couldn’t hold her tongue. “3-0, but this time for us.”

“I believe her!” Kyle piped up.

Brendan snorted. “Who’s placing bets?!”

The bell rang and everybody settled down to stand for the anthem. As the game got underway, Aberdeen could feel rushes of electricity move up her spine every time the Leafs touched the puck. They were playing phenomenally. They looked focused, into it, and like a complete team. It was a night and day difference from Game 1. Though the first period didn’t have any goals, Aberdeen knew they’d be coming – for the Leafs only.

In the second period Auston scored and Aberdeen jumped out of her seat to celebrate. And when John scored late in the third period to get a two goal lead, she was even happier.

Then, with less than two minutes left, disaster hit.

It was a play behind the net. Pierre Luc Dubois – the guy from the other day, Aberdeen had learned – basically cross-checked Jake Muzzin, and Jake fell awkwardly, trying to break it, with his head hitting a Blue Jackets player’s leg. He fell to the ice.

He wasn’t getting up. And the referee hadn’t blown the whistle.

Those fuckers.

“BLOW THE FUCKING WHISTLE!!!” Aberdeen screamed at the top of her lungs, startling Brendan and Kyle. Her face was turning red. She was sure she’d been so loud the referee actually heard her, because he finally blew it. Jake was having a hard time getting up, and then he lay back down. One of the trainers immediately made his way onto the ice, rushing towards Jake.

The replays began to play from every angle, and Aberdeen watched on the TV screen in the box how his head and neck contorted once he hit the player’s thigh. She had tears in her eyes as she watched the worst angles. She looked back out onto the ice to see Jake still lying there. The trainer was still with him, though more were making their way onto the ice now. Then, she saw one of the trainers put his hands near Jake’s neck. They called for a stretcher.

She bolted out of her seat.

“Aberdeen!” she could hear Brendan call out after her, but she didn’t listen. She didn’t turn around. She hurried down to ice level, her mind running a mile a minute, and flashed her credentials to anyone and everyone she needed to, not bothering to stop so they could actually see them.

By the time she got to ice level, she could hear the distant sound of sticks tapping, letting her know he was being stretched off. She met all the trainers and the stretcher at the entrance. “Jake?!” she asked frantically.

“Aberdeen?” he asked.

“Are you okay? Did you break your neck?!”

“I didn’t break my neck. I can feel my arms and legs,” he said. Aberdeen let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. “Did it look scary?”

“Is that a joke?” she asked. “I ran down here the second they called for the stretcher.”

“We’re going to take him to the hospital. He’s going to have to leave the bubble,” the head trainer informed Aberdeen. “You need to tell Brendan and Kyle. Then update us on the protocol of what it will take to get him back into the hotel.”

Before she could acknowledge what was just said, Jake spoke up again. “Aberdeen?”

“Yeah Jake?”

“You need to call Courtney for me. Tell her I’m okay,” he said. “She’s probably worried sick.”

Aberdeen’s heart sunk into her stomach. Courtney. “Yeah yeah, of course—”

“—You have her number, right—”

“—We really need to get him to the hospital—”

“—Yeah, I have her number—”

“—Call Courtney, please,” were Jake’s last words before he was stretchered off.

Aberdeen watched until they were out of her line of sight. For a few moments, the images of what just happened flashed through her mind, and she momentarily forgot about everything. She felt sick to her stomach. Jake said he felt okay, but she knew hockey players always just said that. Morgan had been playing injured for the better part of the year until he actually got injured. High sticks to the face, lost teeth, blood drawn – these guys just put a bandaid on it and said they were fine. But this was different.

When Courtney’s face crossed her mind, she jolted back to life and grabbed her phone out of her pocket, scrolling until she found Courtney’s number. The phone didn’t even have to ring twice. “Aberdeen?!” she asked frantically. “How’s Jake?”

“Hey Court—he’s okay—”

“He’s okay?!”

“Well, they’re bringing him to the hospital right now,” she said. “But I was able to talk to him because I rushed down to ice level and he told me he was fine and to call you.”

“So you—you were able to talk to him,” Courtney said, her voice much calmer than just moments before. “You saw him?”

“Yes. He told me he could move his arms and legs,” Aberdeen informed her.

“Okay. Okay. Does that mean he has to leave the bubble though? I mean can I go visit him?”

Aberdeen cringed. “I don’t think so,” she said. As she did, she could hear Luna being fussy in the background and Courtney trying to calm her. “The NHL has an agreement with Toronto General about potential injuries. If everything is okay and he comes back into the bubble, all he has to do is pass three negative tests,” she explained, listening to Luna get even fussier.

“Okay. Alright. But they’ll call me, right?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure Jake will even be able to call you from the hospital. Our trainers all have their phones on them.”

“Thanks Aberdeen,” Courtney said, and Aberdeen could hear the relief in her voice. She knew all Courtney wanted was to hear from her husband. Luna let out a loud cry. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Court,” Aberdeen ended the call.

Families. So many of them had families. So many of them had families that were suffering and making do with a prolonged absence and Aberdeen couldn’t take it. The players were sacrificing so much to be in the bubble. And their families were sacrificing so much letting them go into the bubble. She knew most of them had money – to cope, to do whatever, really – but that didn’t compensate for presence. That didn’t compensate for having daddy around to play and snuggle with.

She began to cry as she found herself walking towards the locker room, not even knowing whether or not the game had ended. She didn’t really care at this point. All she could think about was Courtney and Luna at home, worrying about Jake as he was being taken to the hospital. To Aberdeen, nothing else mattered right now.

She heard some commotion from the locker room and she knew the boys were back in. She didn’t know how long they’d been back for, and didn’t bother to peek in to see. She didn’t want to when her eyes were still red and welling up with tears. Instead, she hid herself around a corner, crouching down with her knees against her chest, wiping at her eyes every so often and trying to control her emotions before having to go in, or getting called by Brendan, or by Kyle, or—

“There you are.”

Well, so much for that.

She looked up from her crouched position and saw Jason looking down at her. He wasn’t completely undressed – he had all his UnderArmour on – but he was still sweaty from the game and his hair was matted against his head. She wiped her eyes one last time before getting up. “Hi.”

“Did you see Jake?”

She nodded. “He’s okay. He can feel and move his arms and legs or whatever.”

“Why are you crying?”

She knew he wasn’t asking to be insolent, but did she really have to have to spell it out for him? “Don’t tell me you’re immune to this shit,” she said. “I just had to call Courtney and explain to her that her husband didn’t break his neck and end his God damn career. Luna was crying in the background. It’s a lot, okay?”

Jason nodded his head. “I know it is. I��m not trying to…fuck, I know that came out wrong. He’s gonna be okay, Aberdeen.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Aberdeen,” he said soothingly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears. “I know. I’m just being a big baby.”

“No you’re not,” Jason said. “You’re not being a big baby. You’re being a human being. Someone you cared about got hurt. Do you want to talk about it when you get back to the hotel?” he asked.

She considered it for only half a second before she shook her head. “No. I know you call your girls every night. I can’t take time away from them.”

“Aberdeen—”

“I’ll be okay,” she asserted. “I promise. I’ll be okay.”

“Aberdeen!” Kyle’s voice suddenly called out. He rushed towards her with his phone in his hand. “They took him to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head, trying to steady her voice and make it seem as professional as possible. “He’s technically left the bubble, so we have to update the trainers on protocol to get him back into the hotel and how—”

“I’ll handle that with Brendan and Josh,” he interrupted. “But he was okay?”

“He could feel his arms and legs. That’s what he told me. Then he asked me to call Courtney and I did that.”

Kyle nodded his head, looking – really looking – at Aberdeen for the first time in their conversation. “Were you crying?”

“I’m going to be fine,” was all she said.

***

“I’m going to come to your room,” William said through the phone in a strained voice.

“Don’t you dare,” Aberdeen chastised him, a new batch of tears having fallen down her face as she lay in bed. “Don’t you even think about leaving your room, William.”

“Aberdeen, you need me and I need to be with you right now—”

“And you need to stay in your room so you don’t get kicked out of the bubble,” she said sternly. “I’m being serious, Will. Don’t come over.”

She watched as he bit his lip and shook his head. She could see all over his face how conflicted he was. It was one of the things she loved most about him – to the world, he seemed cool and unemotional and that he didn’t really care about anything or take anything too seriously, but to her, he was the entire range of emotions in one conversation. He had a heart full of gold and she knew it would always stay that way. “This is killing me, minskatt,” he whispered, his voice defeated. “I want to be there for you when you need me. Always. I mean…you need me, right?”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know where this was coming from, but like some things with William, she felt like it was something that had been on his mind for a while and was only letting out now. He was still learning to talk to her about his feelings. He was keeping his promise from February, so she could appreciate that. “Of course I need you,” she said softly. “I’ll always need you like you need me. We’re in this together. You know that. But you need to be on this team right now. You need to help them fight. This isn’t about me. It’s about the team.”

“It’s always about you,” William said. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s always about you.”

“Don’t make it about me right now, Willy. It’s not about me. It’s about Jake, and the team,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Make it about me later,” she added, trying to be humourous.

It garnered a small smile from him, and she felt proud of herself. “I love you, minskatt.”

“I love you too Willy. Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

He nodded slightly. “I promise.”

***

Aberdeen’s iPhone was still in her hands as she woke again from its vibrations. She jumped at the sensation of being awoken in the middle of the night. If it was Willy calling her at three in the morning, she was gonna kill him.

“Hello?” her voice was groggy.

The voice on the other end was not William’s. “I lived, bitch.”

***

August 6th, 2020

It wouldn’t be a Toronto Maple Leafs series without some drama, apparently. And the drama tonight was how the team blew a 3-0 lead, allowing the Columbus Blue Jackets to win 4-3 in overtime, with Pierre-Luc Dubois scoring a hattrick. That meant the Columbus Blue Jackets were now up 2-1 in the series.

It meant the Leafs could go home tomorrow.

Aberdeen tried not to think about it.

She didn’t bring it up with anybody as they went back to the hotel, and she knew, judging by the looks on their faces, that they didn’t want to hear about it either. Nobody would be turning on their TVs tonight, and she doubted they would check the news on their phones, either. Maybe they’d play video games to take their minds off of it. Or maybe they’d go right to bed and rest, since they had to do all of this again in less than 24 hours. Fuck.

Aberdeen took a shower. She washed her face. She did her skincare. She put on a sheetmask.

Her phone rang.

She knew it was William, so she tucked herself into bed and accepted the FaceTime call. When he realized that she had a sheetmask on, a smile broke out on his face from ear to ear. “Nice sheetmask,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

She smiled cheekily and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re used to it by now. Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” she said.

“I am used to it by now and—oh shit, hold on, I forgot something…” he said, trailing off as he set his phone down so Aberdeen could only see the ceiling in his room. Knowing William, he probably forgot to turn the light off in the bathroom or something. But the longer he took, the more Aberdeen became skeptical of his whereabouts. She barely heard anything on the other end. “There we are…” she heard his voice. And then she saw what he had on his face: a sheetmask. He was still smiling from ear to ear. “Now where were we?” he asked.

“William!” Aberdeen squealed, letting out giggles she couldn’t hold in at the sight of him. He looked ridiculous. It was clearly the first time he’d ever put one on himself. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“You love these things!” he tried to justify himself. “I brought one because I knew I’d catch you at least once in here with one of these things on. And if we can’t do it together…well, physically, then we can do them together in separate rooms. Like everything else we need to do.”

Her cheeks flushed red – not that he could see. He bought sheetmasks and put them on with her. He gave her time to write. He encouraged her writing. He listened to her. He cared for her. He was even better than anything she could have imagined in a dream boyfriend. How did she get so lucky? How did she let guys treat her like shit before him? She felt tears well in her eyes. He was going all out to make the best of the bubble, and she couldn’t be more thankful. “I love you so much, Willy.”

“I love you too, minskatt.”

“No…I love you Willy. Like love you love you. Love you love you love you. I don’t even have the words…and I’m a writer! You make me speechless, Willy. There aren’t enough words in the English or Swedish languages that I can string together that will, like, tell you or show you how much I love you.”

“I get it, minskatt. Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“I annoyed you enough until I wore you down,” he quipped.

She giggled. “You seduced me is what I’d call it.”

“I don’t know about that. If I remember correctly it was you rubbing yourself against my thigh that morning.”

She made a face at him. He made the exact same face back but crinkled his sheetmask so he had to flatten it with his free hand. She watched him with complete adulation. “Willy?”

“Minskatt?”

“Can we listen to our song together?”

William smiled. He fiddled around with his phone and his ‘Minskatt’ playlist until the familiar chords started playing over the phone, filling the air with the nicest, best, most beautiful sound Aberdeen had ever heard – save for Willy’s laugh, maybe – because she knew this song was about her, about them, and it was still their little secret.

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bxllafanficc · 4 years ago

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plizetsky x reader)

(part five)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(One week later)

He groaned, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes even after breakfast. The sun was annoyingly bright today and the crowds chatting along the streets became a loud buzzing in his ears. They walk along shore at a smaller street where the typical fisherman has been standing, even years from now since Yuri saw him last. With a face mask up to his eyes and his hoodie up, it also came to be exceedingly hot underneath his disguise. Sweaty again.

In front of him walked Yuuri and Victor, sheering for him to hurry up meanwhile Victor snapped some photos behind his head on him and (Y/n). 'A selfie to remember' he said. Though the sour face of (Y/n) was far from something anyone would like to remember. Terrifying.

Right. Why? Yuri didn't exactly hit it off at its peak this morning with (Y/n) as his roommate. The cold shoulder hitting him like a slap in the face grew even larger every time he tried talk her back to normal state. A 'what's the matter with you? Stop being a drag!' Wasn't gonna get him an answer so far. Though, Yuri found himself surprised that he even made an effort into talking with her in this mood. One week with her and he's already softening up? Not great. He can't treat her as if she isn't a stranger to him, nice or not. Even if she always came at the late ending hours of his practicing at the rink and greeted him with a late snack after training. Star-shaped apple slices and a smoothie. He found it weird the first time and he still does. Every morning and every late evening because Yakov happened to mention that apples were Yuri's favorite fruit.

And this morning? Maybe he could actually admit that he screwed up. It probably could've gone better if he hadn't stolen Magnolia from her... Long story short, she was asleep with the cat in her arms and Yuri sneaked out a makeshift toy to lure him over. (Y/n) quickly noticed that Yuri was now the person cuddling the cat and she tried to call him over for his morning brush with a happy chirping sound. But Yuri had held Magnolia still when he tried to go until the cat was like 'meh whatevs' and went back to sleep in Yuri's arms. He knew now afterwards that it was already a little bit much to hold the cat back but the worst part wasn't past yet. No. The worst part was when he said 'He wants to be with me, not you, you clingy hag' and 'Maybe if you weren't so stubborn and tacky all the time he would be sprinting to you this moment instead of cuddling with his savior.' When she hadn't responded well to his words some unknown force told him to push it harder. So kept on pushing at her limits with spiteful manners and comments. He can't really understand why he'd said that now afterwards. All that came out meanwhile Yuri was still half asleep from past day's exhaustion, and he hadn't yet realized that he probably should filter the way he talk to his coach, nonetheless the,, he wouldn't say idol,, but- Nonetheless the acquaintance she is. Though he couldn't stand her. How itching and irritated he felt whenever she made her own sour looks. Isn't she supposed to be happy sunshine or what? Just get over it already, it was just an insult anyway.

But it was clear that (Y/n) took the insult to heart and has been doing so since then. At breakfast, he had received a bowl of starshaped cut apples put down harshly in front of him at the table. That along with blueberry pancakes. Why she was the one making breakfast, he didn't understand. But it had certainly not been unbearable to eat. No the opposite really. The entire Katsuki household was there along with them and everyone had been gulping it down like starved hounds. But the thing really throwing Yuri off was the fact that his appleslices were the only ones being but into starshapes. Just that she took the extra time even though or because she was upset at him?

Yuri gazed at the girl's direction as he thought of the event. 'So very unnecessary' he thought. Was it some twisted joke he didn't quite get or a revenge he didn't see coming? Because except for the apples, she had been totally snappy with him since they left for the unknown adventure Victor had described it as. And she wouldn't really have made that extra effort out of kindness judging on her mood today.

(Y/n) was very keen not to glance at him just one bit this morning since that breakfast. And when Yuri made a huge deal out of it afterwards, Victor had took him aside and whispered into his ear; 'There will come days where she won't put up with your bullshit anymore and today seems like such a situation. I don't know what you did to cause that reaction because it's quite rare. But I recommend you lay off and let her cool down on her own.' His words had been a sense of advise with a hint of bitterness in it.

Just minutes later he had gathered us four and announced that he would be taking them all somewhere to cleanse our minds and gather our thoughts. He hadn't really understood why all four would go there but that's when (Y/n) decided it was time to announce a pretty important details she almost withheld from him until now. Apparently the entire reason they chose to do this whole coaching in Japan was because she had taken Yuuri as her apprentice as well. It all seemed relevant of course. Why else would Yuri be here right now and not with her back in Russia? But it made him feel uneasy and let down for some stupid reason. Why she apparently thought it was much more important to teach Yuuri than him since they were in Japan right now. He's always gotta be the favorite even though Yuri won gold and proved himself to be better than the piglet. Victor already chose him. And clearly (Y/n) did too. But she made him believe that she came here only to coach him.

He didn't understand anything. He didn't want her coaching, didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She wasn't a real coach even. He certainly didn't want to share a room with her and he didn't want to feel relieved at the sight of her at the rink yesterday, coming to his rescue like that. He just wanted her to stop talking so much but now he couldn't stand the silence she was giving him.

Couldn't she just get her shit together?

"Ta-daaa! We're here!" Victor's shout made Yuri snap back to reality at the beat of a second. It took him a moment to understand the building the man was waving towards but soon he remembered the experiences he had there.

"No- nonono! I'm not going through that hellish session again. No damned waterfalls and no hitting me with a stick!" Yuri turned on his heels but was grabbed by the collar of his neck by a pouting Victor. (Y/n) who was clearly new to the subject gave Yuuri a hesitant look but Victor wasn't going down.

"Come on, it will be great for everyone. And I promise no hitting this time!"

'This time.' He didn't believe it one bit. He knew it was just an attempt to get him through the doors. Once in, no turning back. But if there was going to be hitting, he was secretly hoping that it would not be (Y/n) as the one doing it.

"Still no. There's no way you're getting me through those doors! Never am I ever standing under a waterfall again!"

...

The rapid flow of the water forcibly threatening to push him forwards was as cold as he remembered it. Screw the hitting with sticks, this just felt like someone rapidly slapping him across the back over and over. At least the water could've been warm. What was the deal with that anyway? He knew exactly why going here was kept a secret from him. They would never have caught him if he knew before. Now Yuri is standing in the middle, unable to escape. A quiet but intimidating (Y/n) who hasn't spoken up for hours and Yuuri who seems to actually be taking this whole thing seriously. Then there's the big question. Where is Little blondie Rasputin in the picture. The answer is right in front of him in a corner of the other side of the room. In a bubble bath taking it easy. He said that he'd be making sure we'd concentrate on opening up our minds and he'd tell us if he noticed otherwise. Yuri believed none of it. He just doesn't want to be here himself. Cause why was (Y/n) doing it if both the coaches aren't in on it. She's already in touch with herself and doesn't need it. Part of him guesses that she was participating on her own terms for some reason.

'This isn't working. I'm literally standing here thinking about everything and anything until time passes!' He thought. And...

He made the mistake of looking to his right. (Y/n) was standing close beside him with closed eyes. He was going to close his eyes as well but then he noticed how soft her skin looked. Like, all the wrinkles caused by her constant grumpy face were flattened out. Her mouth hung low and her lips were slightly parted. That made him notice her slow breathing making her chest rise and fall in a nice rhythm. Even though the water hitting his scalp shouted angrily in his ears, he was somehow able to here her melodic breathing. She was doing this the right way. And she looked completely relaxed. Almost asleep.

He kept on listening to her breathing and prayed that she wouldn't open her eyes right this moment. If so, she'd probably have realized right away how long exactly he had been staring at her.

He brushed it off and adverted his gaze, closed his eyes shut. It wasn't anything more than that. He had to get to know her at some point and her striking eyes were always too intimidating for him. He would always look away to feel less stripped of his soul in front of her. It was almost the first time he really could study her features up close, and without her knowing. (D-Did that sound weird-? anyway.)

He couldn't see her anymore but her light breath could still be heard. A part of it made Yuri think of music when he listened to it. He'll focus on that. Mach the breathing to his own.

Everything she did held a steady rhythm to it, unintentionally probably. The music was so much more than just the beautiful voice she had, but it consumed her entire being. Maybe that's why it felt so real on stage.

Does he have to let the skating consume him too? What if he loses control of what he's doing? Starts doing a different choreography or hits the wall again? What would happen if he just let go?

"I think we're done for today. Great job guys! You too Yuri!"

Well, he would never find out because he could never let that happen. Ever. If he doesn't hold control, then what does he have.

Yuuri and (Y/n) came back to reality and stepped out of the fall. Yuri followed short behind and watched the droplets of water running down the back of the girl in front of him. Her shoulders were much less tense than before they begun their session.

'If she thinks she's her to help me let go of all control and fly off the surface of the earth, then I'm sorry. For your coaching will have been in vain.'

...

Yuri was the last one out of the showers and was alone in the locker room as the piglet had already finished before him. He put one the clothes he came in since he came unprepared and set off to the main entrance. To his surprise, he found (Y/n) leaned against a nearby wall just outside the path leading the separate changing rooms apart. 'She's been waiting for me?' She still looks stern but this time Yuri's directly hit in the face by it. She's not ignoring him anymore. Her eyes are as piercing as always but not with excitement or content as usual. Yuri has to turn his head. The feeling's too much.

He walks beside her this time as well. Not a few feet behind like the way they came here.

Victor's tall back was seen outside the building through the glass doors and the two of them headed out. Yuuri was there too but they weren't alone. A large crowd of screaming teenagers as well as adults were swooning over the two skaters. Reporters and journalists were at the front struggling to ask the pair questions meanwhile guards from the center nearby held them all back. At the corner of his eye (Y/n) was turning slightly pale of the sudden screams that roared as they arrived together. As soon as Yuri was noticed the same reaction came for the second time and he joined in on the surprise. His first instinct was to run and hope none in the crowd ran faster than him. But is seemed like (Y/n) sensed his intentions before he did. A firm and calming hand was placed upon his head and as what- a warning? A threat? He looked at her and she smiled. Not to him, but to the crowd.

"Is that (Y/n) and Yuri Plisetsky?"

"Yes! But why are they in Japan? And together?"

"Aww look! They look so cute together!"

A couple pictures were taken of the two of them and Yuri was as stunned by the girl's hand as well as her warm presence towards her fans. He was even too caught up to snap her hand away.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Yuri YURI! What were you doing in there with the Aubade duchess of (nationality)?" Duchess? Right. One of her many titles created by her fan base. It's pretty funny. Why a duchess? Why not a queen or an empress? Yuri wasn't the one to complain though. He was called the Russian punk.

"(Y/n), any reason you're in Japan? Any hot news you'd like to share with us?" The woman asking leaned over the fighting arms of the guard and winked playfully at the two of them. He saw (Y/n) getting visibly uncomfortable at the suggestive question and she stuttered, trying to come up with something smooth and contained for the reporter to use in her article. Yuri was just pissed off at how rudely this woman got all up in their private life like that. He felt like it had been put upon (Y/n) as her responsibility alone to answer that and that just made him angrier.

But the back of the tall Russian male hiding him from camera views stopped the salty defensive words he almost spit out.

"Of course! It's about time to announce anyway. On the behalf of myself and Yakov Feltsman, we're proud to announce that (Y/n) (l/n) will spend her time in Japan as coach for our competing skaters; Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki, in their preparations for this year's Grand Prix senior division!" Victor's worlds were happily announced to the audience and the next moment all hell of a screaming mess broke loose. The reporters rushed sideways to call their firms about the news and the guards almost failed to hold the fighting fans at bay. It all was a mess already. It went from being super private and secretive to Victor dropping the act without warning and soon the whole world would know in just a couple of minutes.

Shit.

A/N; Aaand another chapter! I have so fun writing these and it's almost like therapy session for me too:') no waterfalls though. It seems like Yuri's starting to warm up to (Y/n) right? Well... Baby steps;) What do you think will happen in next chapter? Let me know what you think!

#yurio plisetsky #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yurianime #yuri on ice #yuri on stage #yuri plisetsky x reader #victor nikirofov #yuuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #animelove #anime fanfic #anime icons

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mbti-sorted · 4 years ago

Text

#GetSorted

I. THE MBTI-SORTED VIDEO CHALLENGE

What I need from you:

Record a 10-min. video; don’t worry if it’s not exact, but try to be within a minute or two. Answer as many or as few questions from the list below (Section B) as you’d like, plus the three at the bottom (Section C). Don’t over-edit the video! I really want all your weird long pauses, and your rambling. If you make a 20-min. video and need to cut out some questions to make it back to 10, that is acceptable.

Upload your video to a platform like YouTube, or Google Drive, and send me the direct link using this Google Form. Either a public or unlisted video is fine, whatever you’re comfortable with doing. If you want to make it easier to find, you can tag your video under #GetSorted.

Make sure you are well lit from the front, not the back so I can see your face. Don’t sit too close to the screen, so more of your body language can be seen.

If you’d like, you can use an interviewer or camera operator, so you are interacting with another person. Make sure to face the camera wherever possible, though. If they want to answer questions, too, they must submit their own video (this is an interview, not a conversation!).

You must be 18 years of age or older to participate.

Please submit your videos by February 28th, 2021. This is an experiment and I have no idea how many videos will be submitted, so I appreciate your patience!

What You Get: I will try and type you! I might not be able to, but I can probably narrow it down.

II. Video Content

A. INTRODUCE YOURSELF: What is your (first/screen) name? MBTI results will be shared via a post on mbti_sorted, so please make sure you only share information that you are comfortable with being used publicly on Tumblr. You can also introduce your interviewer or camera person.

B. PICK SOME QUESTIONS TO ANSWER (for approx. 9-minutes 30 seconds):

Tell us about a teacher or a coach who left a big impression on you.

What was your favourite subject in school and did you pursue it as a career?

Do you have any athletic injuries and how did you get them?

Do you believe in any supernatural phenomena?

Tell us about a recurring conflict with a family member.

What character do you identify with the most and why?

How many languages do you speak? Is English your first language? If it isn’t, answer a question in your native language (please summarize it after in English!).

What advice would you give to your younger self and what would they think of where you are now? Would you warn them about anything?

Do you people-gather? (If you’re unsure, ask others in your group(s) if they’re there because of you.) How many groups do you belong to, and what do you think of this?

Are you passionate about your career? Tell us about it.

Which holiday brings you the least joy?

Are you a heartbreaker or a heartbreak-ee?

What is your dream car? Or if you aren’t into cars, what piece of technology do you dream of owning?

Would you rather make a lot of money at a job you hate or do a job you love that keeps you below the poverty line?

Do you collect anything?

Have you ever had any alternative career paths/life gameplans? Do you wish you had taken another path in retrospect?

Do you have a good sense of direction? How do you navigate (when you can’t rely on GPS)? Do you navigate new places/buildings the same way you navigate your home town/familiar buildings? Is your sense of time better or worse than your sense of direction?

Credit to Temple Grandin for this question: if I tell you to think of a church steeple, what’s happening inside your head? (You could also talk about a clock tower, or a water tower, or a minaret - something you are familiar with, but have less personal connection to works best.)

Would you be unable or unwilling to answer any of these questions? Which?

C. ANSWER THESE THREE QUESTIONS (30 seconds):

How much preparation did you do before making this video? If you have an interviewer, did you pick the questions or did they? Who decided to do it that way?

What type do you think you are?

In 1-3 adjectives, describe how you think others see you.

#not a typing post #GetSorted

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lazuliquetzal · 4 years ago

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Don't Take It Personally, Asshole!

@snowlikestardust

BY POPULAR REQUEST: This is a (cleaned up) version of an early draft of CH11 of AA Batteries, which is in Akira’s POV instead of Miyuki’s! You’ll probably recognize a lot of turns of phrase because I’m unoriginal and like, 80% of what I cut gets recycled. This scene got cut up and Frankensteined a LOT into later chapters haha.

So this takes place during the Yakushi practice match, right after Eijun throws wild and Miyuki talks to Kataoka about his inability to throw to the inside.

“Akira.” Akira stiffens and turns his gaze away from the mound. Coach is standing on the sidelines, and he makes a ‘come here’ gesture. Akira jogs over. He tries to ignore the flicker of hope in his chest, but he can’t stop the way his heart is pounding out of control, leaving him barely able to hear. “Coach,” Akira dips his head in respect and clenches his jaw. His eyes fix upon the ground below. “Can you fix this?” ‘This’ being the obvious — the fact that Eijun can’t throw to the inside. He looks back to the mound. Eijun is stiff and pale, his left hand clenching and unclenching in unconscious denial. He looks a little scared, yes, but mostly, he looks confused. And — this is the important thing — he hasn’t given up. This Eijun won’t shuffle back to the dugout, defeated. This Eijun will go down kicking and screaming. Eijun still wants to pitch. Maybe he can’t pitch. But he wants to. Yeah, Akira thinks. I’ll take those odds.

He looks back at the coach and nods his head.

Kataoka breaks his gaze and looks to the outfield. “Asou!”

Their left fielder jogs in, mouth pulled into a firm line.

“Miyuki, you’re playing left field. Akira, you’re in.”

You’re in.

The words echo around Akira’s brain. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

While Kataoka sorts out the substitution with the umpires, Akira exhales. He drops down onto the bench and adjusts the straps on his leg guards, making sure they’re not too tight or too loose. Beside him, Furuya hovers, eyes narrowed.

Are you going to be okay?

Akira nods.

The truth is: he’d thought about the Inajitsu thing for a long time. And after the initial anger and grief and shame, he’d come to the following conclusion:

Coach Kataoka was right. Akira probably would not have survived that inning.

It wasn’t nerves. Akira had never been nervous in his life.

(Okay, he had been nervous, of course he had. But not for a baseball game.)

And it wasn’t lack of skill or experience, though that probably played a big role in the coach’s decision.

(Okay, definitely played a big role in the coach’s decision. Let’s be honest: Akira was not the best catcher in the dugout that day.)

The truth is this: Akira was scared, too.

For good or ill, better or worse, Eijun and Akira have always fed off each other like a chemical reaction. If Eijun got excited, Akira got excited. If Akira got competitive, Eijun got competitive. Having them play while they were both out of their minds would not have ended well.

Today is a different story.

He’s not going to lie: it is weird seeing Eijun unable to pitch to the inside. It’s practically unthinkable. Eijun and Akira lived and died by the inside pitch. It pretty much defined their entire middle school career.

But right now? Akira’s not scared. And as long as he can hold onto that, he can fix this.

Kataoka gestures for him to get out on the field, and Akira steps out of the dugout.

“Do your best,” Miyuki says, from behind him.

Akira resists the urge to roll his eyes. As if I’d do anything less.

They split off: Miyuki to the outfield, and Akira to the mound. He jogs up to where Eijun is standing. When he arrives, he stops just an arm’s length away from his brother.

Eijun stares at him for a moment, and Akira stares back.

“Hey,” Akira says. “What sign does Miyuki-senpai use for the cutter kai?”

Eijun blinks, caught off guard by the question. He shakes his head and answers the question. “Ah, he uses a ‘four,’” he says, and he makes the sign with his hand.

“Cool,” Akira says. “I’m gonna use a seven.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Eijun makes a face. “You’re doing this just to be annoying, aren’t you.”

“Yep.”

“And even if I argue, you’re going to use it anyway.”

“Absolutely.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Great,” Akira says, in the flat voice that he knows Eijun finds irritating. “Good talk.”

He steps away and turns to the rest of the field. “So, uh, they’re probably gonna get a lot of hits,” Akira yells out. “Like, a lot. Sorry about the workout. Thanks for your cooperation.”

“You’re saying it wrong!” Eijun hisses at him. “And they are not gonna get a lot of hits!”

“I dunno, Ei,” Akira says, rolling his eyes. “You’re not exactly on top of your game, are you?”

“I’ll kick your ass if you make bad calls.”

“So shake them.” Akira glares at Eijun, daring him.

Eijun agitatedly waves his arms around. “You know I — ugh! Shut up! Get off my mound!”

Akira waves good-bye, as annoyingly as he can, and he walks down to home plate. He sketches a quick bow to the batter and the umpire, and then he crouches down.

The game resumes.

Akira takes a quick look around, the way Chris-senpai taught him to. The runners are at ease, barely paying attention to him. The guy on first base looks especially relaxed.

Hm. He’s never done a pickoff before. That would be pretty cool.

Akira turns his attention back to the mound, and he’s about to make a call —

And then he frowns.

He wants to tell Eijun to throw to the inside. And he knows, by the expression on his brother’s face, that it’s what Eijun wants to do, too.

But there’s something else in Eijun’s gaze. His eyes keep darting around — not to the runners, but to the batter.

Akira glances over at Todoroki Raichi. Yakushi’s monster first-year, a batter who can crush an ace in a single hit. Logic says to be careful; logic says to keep their guard up against the best batter in West Tokyo.

Well, fuck that, Akira decides. If Eijun really can’t pitch to the inside, then every batter might as well be Todoroki Raichi. It’s like middle school all over again.

He spreads his arms wide.

Eijun blinks.

Ignore him, Eijun. Just pitch whatever.

You’re joking, right?

Akira smirks. What, you think I can’t catch it?

Eijun sticks his tongue out — petty and dramatic as always. Akira rolls his eyes, and he knows that his brother can see it because he rolls his eyes back.

Eijun throws the ball.

It's instinctual, at this point, to move his feet and stretch his arm, catching the ball before it can fly out of reach. It slams into the back of his mitt, his vision tunnels — and before his brain can catch up with his body, he chucks the ball down to first base.

Wait, shit —

Thankfully, Zono-senpai catches the ball and tags out the runner. Pickoff.

"Out," says the umpire, looking just as surprised as Akira feels.

Holy crap! Akira thinks, in the safety of his own mind. That actually worked?

Zono tosses the ball back to Eijun, and then sends Akira a fiercely enraged expression.

Akira winces and ducks his head. He can hear Chris-senpai’s voice in his mind: baseball is a team sport.

Oops.

But they got the out, so at least he didn’t fuck up his very first play in the game.

Akira looks back to Eijun. Judging by the wild course of his last pitch, he’s still overly aware of the batter.

Akira spreads his arms, again.

Eijun grits his teeth. He steps onto the rubber and winds up.

It comes. Low. It hits dirt, and Akira stops it. Then he tosses it back.

Throw what you want.

“Are you leading me, or not?” Eijun yells, finally cracking.

“Depends!” Akira yells back.

Eijun crosses his arms. On what?

Akira mimes the motion of a ball hitting him in the face, and then flaps his hand around.

Eijun stares at him incredulously. Excuse me?

It’s a valid concern!

Eijun groans in frustration. I’m not gonna hit you in the face!

Aw, you do care! Akira grins and fires off a sarcastic thumbs up, just rile up his brother a little bit more.

It works, because Eijun’s eyes flash, bubbling up with barely contained fury.

Get mad. It’s better than being scared.

Eijun steps back onto the rubber and tightens his grip on the ball, daring Akira to make the call.

Akira places his mitt. Fastball to the outside.

Eijun throws. Todoroki swings. Foul.

Akira barely registers the hit — as soon as he realized it was a foul, he’d already started planning the next move. Another outside pitch, again, but a four-seamer this time.

Eijun throws.

Foul.

Okay, Akira thinks. He looks back at his brother and studies his expression.

He still looks annoyed and irritated. And even better — he’s not looking at Todoroki Raichi anymore.

Good.

He makes the call. And Eijun follows.

It’s like déjà vu, Akira thinks, as the ball makes its way toward him. A fastball to the inside corner, a sight he’s seen thousands of times. The batter tenses, squares his hips, and swings the bat.

Clang.

Like lightning, a sudden stab of oh shit flashes across Akira’s chest. That was a good hit — firm and loud and solid.

Oops, Akira thinks, as Todoroki takes off running and the runners start trickling in. In retrospect? It was probably obvious that they were gunning for an inside pitch. Most batters are pretty comfortable with the gambler’s fallacy —

Someone clicks their tongue, and Akira blinks, crashing back into the present. Eijun’s glaring at him, again.

Deal with that later, dumbass.

Akira rolls his eyes, but Eijun’s right. Unfortunately.

They’re in the middle of a game right now. He can reflect upon his baseball sins at two in the morning.

The moment the next batter steps up to the plate, Akira calls for another inside pitch. And Eijun delivers.

The ball slams into the back of his mitt, and it’s like a gear clicking into place. How long has it been since he caught for his brother outside of mandatory practice? How long has it been since they formed a battery on the field?

The familiar sensation doesn’t wipe away the anger, but it does drown it out. Who needs feelings? They have baseball.

“Nice pitch,” Akira calls out, and he tosses the ball back to the mound. Truce?

Eijun receives the toss. He nods and straightens his back. Truce.

The rest of their play time blurs by after that.

#lazuli writes #this is hilarious to me because eijun and akira are just so stupidly insular with their chaos #they don't even notice that everyone else is terrified #the twins are like: i'm angy >:(( and miyuki is like WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING #aa batteries dna #daiya no ace

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sophielovesbarnes · 5 years ago

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All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!”

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them.

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.”

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.”

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room.

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call.

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice.

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.”

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.”

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea.

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild.

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it.

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.” You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony.

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt.

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.”

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?”

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly. You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late.

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house.

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day.

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.”

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.”

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello.

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!” She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up.

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone.

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop.

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion.

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu.

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.”

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter.

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer.

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother.

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.”

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.”

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.”

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x winchester!reader #reid x reader #reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #winchester x reader #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #all or nothing

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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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in-class-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Youth Coach!Bokuto x Youth Coach!Reader

Hey Anon, so sorry for getting to this so late, but I finally had the time to do this request! Hopefully this is kinda close to what you were expecting!

- Kiwi

Being a sports med college student is definitely not the easiest thing in the world

Why? Well...because college is a thing. College = broke bitch

No tengo dinero :(

So you figured, “hey getting a part time job won’t be the worst thing in the world” You’d be able to make some extra cash

¡logramos este pan!

There’s a youth center close to campus that’s hiring so you figured why not because

You love kids (most of the time)

You have decent volleyball experience to be able to coach since you did play for a while

Few weeks later you heard back from them and you got the job!

Your boss asks if you can come in a couple days before your first day so you can get used to the place and get an idea of how things work

So you get there and you see a VERY familiar floof of white hair sticking out from around the corner

You had to do a double take for a second

Bo.

Bo?

BO?!?!?

He turns around and then he has to do a double take before he recognizes you

“Y/N?!?!?!”

“KOUTAROU?!?!?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here????!”

(excessive hooting ensues)

But when you finish he’s like

“I work here as a volleyball coach...oh hold up, are you the new girls’ coach?”

“Yup!”

He was so happy when he found out y’all were working the same shift

Alrighty so backtrack, you guys know each other because you played on the Fukurodani Girls’ Volleyball team

Since first year, you managed to befriend this hyper-energetic kid

You saw this crackhead all 3 years of your high school life which meant that your life was guaranteed to never have a dull moment upon meeting him

And you definitely didn’t have a crush on him what? who? (Y/N)? idk her ahaha

But seriously he's prime boyfriend material ur just a weenie who had fOUR YEARS to shoot your shot but u didn’t boo thumbs down

But tbh he ADORES you

You’re his precious (but scary when necessary) bean and will fight anybody to protect you

You honestly don’t know what you did that made him decide to become captain of Protect Y/N Squad but he is

Aaaand that stayed true even in college. He was so excited when he found out y’all were attending the same university

But since college is a big meanie, you guys haven’t been able to spend as much time with each other >:((

Needless to say, when Bokuto found out you worked the same shift as him, he was so freakin happy

Literally jumping off the walls

He was just really happy to spend more time with you

Before your shifts start, you guys arrive early so you can just chill in the lounge

Actually, more like you’re getting school work done and uh, Bokuto is uhm, well...being him

But it’s not his fault!!

Bo is not a school person

That’s just not his specialty

But he is so so smart in other ways and you will s c r a p with anyone who says otherwise

Anyways

It wasn’t uncommon for a co-worker to walk in and see you getting some schoolwork done, and Bokuto, well, being him

Exhibit A : you’re working on an assignment that’s due later this week, but since you have some time now, you decided to get some of it done until --

“Hey (Y/N) if I punch myself and it hurts, does that mean I’m strong, or I’m weak?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

“I’ve been trying to! My arm just really hurts, and I still don’t know the answer!”

*Pouty Bo has entered the chat*

Or Exhibit B: For once you’re not doing homework. Bokuto actually brought you some smoothies he bought on his way to work, so y’all are just sipping on smoothies until --

“Hey (Y/N), ya ever notice how cold water tastes sharp, but warm water tastes smooth? Like isn’t that whack?”

＿φ(￣ー￣ )

All jokes aside, he’s really good with kids

His group of 9-10 year olds - The Owlets - absolutely LOVE him (but who wouldn’t?)

Honestly you were kinda surprised at how well he gets along with the kids but not really

Let's be honest he’s the same mental age as them

He’s just as childish as them

Whenever a volleyball from your side of the room rolls over to his, he takes it upon himself to send it back by spiking it towards you

Luckily, you’re able to receive it, and it doesn’t cause much trouble

Other times he’ll just openly sling his arm over your shoulder, and put all his weight on it but uh

he has this thing called... M U S C L E

AND THERE’S SO MUCH

I mean have you seen those back muscles? Literally a blessing from the high heavens themselves

He’s always been toned and had muscle since high school BUT OH MY GOD he got SO BUFF in college and geez those are h e a v y

But your eyes are being blessed everyday so can you really complain?

The answer is no you can’t complain

But you will complain because you’ve had a crush on this mf since high school and yanno that wack feeling when you have unresolved feelings for someone and you feel weird when you look at them?

Like you kinda have feelings but you’re not sure?

Or you’re wondering if your feelings are feeling feelings or they’re just old, stale feelings coming back to harass you?

Mhmm that’s you

And uh you’re not really vibin with it

So the fact that he’s gotten even buffer is not helping your case

AND

He’s always been a sweetie but since college he’s been taking WOMEN’S STUDIES COURSES

You asked him about it and he said he wanted to make sure he was socially aware so he can “use his male privilege to help women make their voices heard”

Is he even real??

He’s drinking his respecc wahman juice ™ everyday, twice a day

Luckily, for the next few weeks, everything goes super smoothly

Your group of kids - The Penguins - are very driven in trying to improve themselves

And kids who want to get better at something they’re passionate about is absolutely ADORABLE

So while you guys are cleaning the gym up Bokuto asks you if you could come to his game on Saturday

And bring the kids ofc because it’d be a good learning experience

Obviously you agree cause you’re not missing out on watching him play volleyball

So it’s finally the long awaited Sunday, and you get there kinda early just so you have more time to make sure all the kiddos get there to the meeting spot safely

And in case you run into a certain volleyball player before the game starts

Turns out, Lady Luck was on your side today

You’re walking down the hallway when you spot a certain owl-haired man

“Koutarou!”

He whips around so fast and his face lights up upon seeing you call out his name

He sprints speed walks over to you

“(Y/N)! I thought you’re supposed to meet up with the kiddos?”

“Yeah, but I got here early so I ended up walking around for a bit,”

In his eyes, you’re so adorable right now

You face is kinda flushed with a light pink spread across your cheeks, and your hair just flows around you and he’s just so in awe

His trance was broken when you checked the time and realized you should be heading to the meeting spot soon

“Ah, I should probably head over to the meeting spot. Good luck, Koutarou! I’ll be cheering you on with the kids!”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to it!”

So you guys go your separate ways, and make it to the meeting spot 5 minutes in advance. All the kids show up on time, and the parents saying thank you for watching their kid, etc.

You bring them to the front row of the cheering section, but a little off to the left so the kids don’t get caught up in whatever the cheering section happens to be doing

The game starts and the kids are in absolute awe over Coach Bokuto and tbh so are you

Now, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him play, but goddamn every time you do it’s so mesmerizing

He does a complete 180 whenever he plays

Completely focused, and all his movements are precise

and the back muscles oh the high heavens are really testing you today

You can’t help but notice how the energy from the crowd makes him so excited

At some point you could’ve sworn that he was scanning the cheering the section trying to find you

He totally was, and he spots you and the kiddos and it makes him so happy

His captain had to snap Bokuto back into the game since he got distracted, and that made you laugh a lil

The rest of the game progresses smoothly

Really smoothly actually. The team had a comfortable lead and they were match point from winning their second set, so they were doing juuuuust fine

Throughout the game, you point on things that should be brought to attention, and the kids kept asking question, which you were more than happy to answer

The match ends with victory for Tokyo U with a solid 3-1 win, and you escort the kids back to the meeting spot where their parents are supposed to pick them up

What you didn’t expect was for Bokuto to be there too

The kids sprint over and flock him, showering him with compliments about his performance during the game

The parents arrive, and one of the parents asked if they could get a group picture with everybody, and soon all the parents were getting their phones out

Ya know the thing where one parent asks to take a picture and now you have a gallery of parents and like 60% of them take like 2 mins just to take one picture?

Yeah, that

All the parents ended up with a whole bunch of cute pics, and the kids were on their ways home

Since Bokuto was still in his uniform, you walk with him back to the locker rooms, and just as you were about to turn the corner, he suddenly slings his arm over your shoulder, and puts all of his body weight onto your back. You’re really trying hard to shimmy out from under him, but he’s SO FREAKING HEAVY

(It’s the muscles, they are d e n s e)

Ofc he notices this and whines about it

“(Y/N)! Why’re you trying to escape?? I’m so sore, please let me use you as a human crutch for like 2 minutes!”

“Ew, no, Koutarou. You’re still sweaty and smelly, get off of meeee”

You somehow manage to drag your poor body to the locker room doors with this man child dragging behind

“I’ll wait out here Kou--”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bokuto turned you around and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you into a warm hug

“Thanks for coming to the game, (Y/N)”

Your brain is not comprehending ANyTHing is boy is saying

Your high school crush is hugging you like it's some shoujo manga like eXCUse mE?

And sis you’re not missing this opportunity, so you wrap your arms around his torso, and you can feel him tense up a little underneath your hands

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you’re able to formulate thoughts before you speak (cause otherwise you’re pretty sure you would’ve stuttered like a blubbering mess)

“Of course. Anytime, Koutarou”

“I’m gonna go clean up. Do you mind waiting for me?”

“Not at all. Take your time.”

“Ok, thanks. I’ll be out soon.”

Just as he pulled away from the hug, he leans down to kiss your cheek before reaching out for the door handle

Hold up

Kissed

You

The

Cheek

AND HE’S TRYNA RUN AWAY FROM WHAT HE DID

NAH UH

Before you convince yourself what you’re about to do might change the whole dynamic of your guys relationship, you grab a whole muscley arm, and pull him down a little, and you return a kiss on his left cheek

Oh shit

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh dear god

WE HAVE BUNGLED THIS MISSION

In order to save yourself from any further potential embarrassment, you let go of his arm, and skedaddle (skidoodle ur dicc is now a noodle)

over to the lobby

This poor boy

One (1) whole confused owl

You kissed him back…

YOU KISSED HIM BACK

Kinda. It was on the cheek, not like a kiss in reciprocity

*YOU KISSED HIM ALSO

He realized he’s standing there like an idiot so he hurries into the locker room and showers because even he recognizes that he stank

Mansweat

But he’s literally thinking about that cheek kiss the entire time he’s freshening up

And so were you

You’re sitting on a bench in the lobby trying to think of how to talk to him without making it awkward

But the fact that your heart spazzing out in your chest, and your stomach is doing backflips certainly doesn’t help

But hey...you kissed your crush (go you!)

Time passes a lot quicker when you’re thinking about smooching Bokuto because he’s walking towards you with this bag slung over his shoulder

You get up from the bench sweating anxiety bullets and start heading over to him

“Hey Kou, about earlier I--”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bokuto who is also sweating anxiety bullets but at least he’s smelling nicer quickly interrupted you

“(Y/N) I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO KISS YOU I JUST THINK YOU’RE SUPER CUTE!”

He’s yelling cause (duh it’s Bo) he can’t help it, but like you also get caught up in it so:

“OH IT’S OK DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, IT’S COOL..!”

“JUST BECAUSE I LIKE YOU DOESN’T MEAN WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS...ALL CASUAL AND SHIT”

“aHAHAHA CASUAL YEAH YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, WE’RE TOTALLY BUDS ”

“I MEAN JUST FRIENDS IS CHILL, THAT’S COOL I RESPECT THAT, BUT I’D LIKE IT IF YOU WENT OUT WITH ME”

“GOOD CAUSE I WANNA GO OUT WITH YOU!”

Rip to everyone’s eardrums

Meanwhile…

Akaashi: “I suddenly feel super embarrassed… but I don’t know why.”

Back to the main show:

“COOL ARE YOU FREE THIS SATURDAY?”

“YEAH”

“cOOL”

“COOL”

*aggressive hand shake*

Passersby are very confused

But oh my god this poor boy

His hands are shaking, and he has armpit sweat galore

But it’s ok you’re just the same as him

Less pitsweat, but still stressed

Poor Bo was so out of it that when heard his phone go off he jumped a lil bit

Luckily it was a text from you

From: (Y/N) [8:26 pm]

“You’ll ace this date! <3”

Cut to Bokuto, having the meltdown of the century

#headcanon #haikyuu!!#bokuto kotarou #bokuto imagine #bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanon #fukurodani #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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thefinalcinderella · 4 years ago

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 2 - The Mountains of Hakone are the Steepest in the World (Part 3)

I actually need an editor this time so...if you have a lot of free time, dm me

Translation Notes

1. Ekiden Tenma refers to the ancient system of exchanging information by going back and forth between post stations by horse, like the Pony Express in the US. An ekiden also means a long-distance relay race.

2. An inro is a traditional Japanese case used for holding small objects like identity seals and medicine. While looking up what raising your inro means I found a lot of references to the period drama Mito Komon, where the hero raises their inro to show his identity, so I think raising your inro is sort of like showing your ID to someone.

3. Tsuburaya Koukichi was a Japanese marathon runner. He won the bronze medal in the 1964 Tokyo Olympics after being overtaken by another runner at the last minute, which he was mortified by. He also suffered a chronic back problem after the Olympics. He committed suicide in 1968 and left a note thanking his family for the food they gave him. You can read the letter on Wikipedia

4. A university-preparatory school or 進学校 (Shingaku-kou) is a school centered on preparing students into getting into university. They usually have higher rates of university acceptance.

5. Putting this here because it took me a long time to look this up, but a 返す刀 (literally “returning (or retaliating) katana”) means attacking one thing and then immediately attacking something else after with a different kind of attack.

Previous | Next

Angry cries and confusion swirled inside the twins’ room.

Impossible. Was he insane? Why we gotta wear shorts and throw on a sash to climb mountains right after New Year’s? What is a Ha-ko-ne E-ki-den? You see, the word “Ekiden” was taken from the “Ekiden Tenma” system (1)… We don’t have any track team members here in the first place. And so on.

In the middle of all of that, Kakeru was the only one who stayed silent.

For those who did track, the “Hakone” was a tournament that had a special place in their hearts. For that reason, they knew how difficult it was to aim for Hakone. Kiyose’s proposal was nothing but a pipe dream. It wasn’t something that the residents of Chikusei-sou, who were all complete amateurs, could aim for just because they wanted to.

Kiyose stood up straight and left the room, then went down the stairs unusually loudly.

“Is he angry?” Jouji muttered uneasily.

“I’m pissed off, too.” Yuki irritably drained his cup of beer. “That asshole Haiji said a bad joke.”

Wondering what was going to happen, Kakeru watched the situation, and then the door was opened again roughly. Kiyose had returned. In his hand was the large doorplate hanging at Chikusei-sou’s entrance. Wondering if he was going to hit them with the plate, everyone reflexively ducked their heads. Kiyose stood in the center of the circle and wiped the sooty doorplate with the hem of his shirt.

“Look at this.”

Kiyose held up the cleaned doorplate like an inro (2) and did a full turn on the spot so that everyone sitting around him could see it.

“Wha, what the hell is that!”

Voices of astonishment spilled from everyone’s mouths. Kakeru also bent forward to take in the words written on the doorplate, and dumbfoundedly realized that this was what it meant to be too amazed to say anything.

“Chikusei-sou” was written in ink on the plain wood board. However, those weren’t the only words. They couldn’t be read until now because of the dirt, but there were two small rows of writing above them.

“Kansei University

Track and Field Team Training Camp”

That was certainly what was written there.

“I’ve never heard of that.”

Nico-chan, the number one old-timer, moaned. The newcomers Jouta and Jouji were looking at each other with ashen faces. By this point, it was clear that Kiyose was seriously trying to take on the Hakone Ekiden.

“In the first place, does our school even have a track and field team?”

Shindou confronted Kiyose with the pitifulness of a peasant begging the governor for a reduction in the annual tribute.

“It’s tiny, but we do. I have said we went to a meet in my first year.”

I thought you participated by yourself. Prince, who was unaware of the workings of the track and field world, muttered. Kiyose didn’t move an inch and made another bombshell announcement as he held the doorplate up.

“And all of you guys are track members too.”

“How?!”

The uproar this time was incomparable to when they were told they were aiming for Hakone. Yuki stood up and drew closer to Kiyose.

“When did that happen!”

“When you moved in.” Kiyose declared nonchalantly. “Didn’t you think it was weird? It’s obvious in this day and age that there would be a catch with a thirty-thousand yen rent and served meals.”

Ignoring the commotion made by the others, Kakeru fixed a glare on Kiyose.

“In other words, the moment we move into Aotake, the team registration form for the track team is turned in?”

“That’s right.”

“And, of course, we’re automatically registered with the Inter-University Athletic Union of Kanto?”

“That’s right.”

“’That’s right’? You really are…” Kakeru sighed. “Isn’t it dirty without the consent of the person? How many people are on the track team in total?”

“For short-distance, we have a dozen or so people, I guess. We’re very weak, though. For long-distance, there’s the ten of us here.”

“So when did we become track athletes!?”

King tried to snatch away doorplate away from Kiyose. Musa hurriedly stopped him.

“I do not understand why. Let’s talk a little about this.”

“Right we will. Let’s just all settle down. Everyone, sit.”

Kiyose calmly instructed. It’s your fault it’s so chaotic, was what everyone was thinking. However, in Chikusei-sou, Kiyose’s words routinely possessed an immense power. They all forcibly suppressed their indignation and reluctantly sat down, once again forming a circle. No one opened their mouths. There was too much, and they didn’t know what to say.

Yuki nudged Kakeru’s side with his elbow. His eyes were saying “Go.” Kakeru was bewildered and looked around at the residents who formed the circle. The twins were signalling Kakeru with their eyes, asking for help. It was already well-known throughout Chikusei-sou that Kakeru went jogging by himself in mornings and evenings. Prince, who shut himself in his room and read nothing but manga, was about the only one who didn’t know.

For Kakeru, who had lived in a hierarchical society, to push aside the more veteran residents who were all sitting in a row and fire the first shot was something to hesitate about. However, the only person who could convincingly oppose Kiyose’s sudden proposition was Kakeru, the only one who was familiar with the world of track. Apparently, he had no choice but to question Kiyose on everyone’s behalf.

Kakeru corrected his posture.

“I’m asking this just to make sure, but who’s the coach? What do they think of these ghost members who don’t even know they’re on the team?”

“Don’t worry about that. The coach is our landlord Tazaki Genichirou-shi.”

“You’re crazy!”

Cries of grief once again rose from all around the circle.

“It’s impossible for us the moment that staggering old man is our coach!”

It seemed that Jouji was so shocked that he got alcohol down his windpipe. He complained while choking loudly.

“That’s rude. Our landlord is someone who was said to be the pride of Japan’s athletics world.” Kiyose chided him.

“When was that?” Jouta asked nervously while rubbing Jouji’s back.

“Well, when Tsuburaya Koukichi (3) died after writing his food-based suicide note, our landlord was already known as a famous coach at Kansei.”

“I do not understand at all.”

Musa tilted his head miserably. Only for this time, neither Shindou nor King the trivia master had the time to answer his question. Tsuburaya Koukichi was an outstanding runner who won the bronze medal for marathon at the Tokyo Olympics, but since explaining that wouldn’t move the conversation forward, Kakeru also decided to ignore Musa’s lamentation.

“Haiji-san, you said we were aiming for Hakone, but to put it bluntly, that’s impossible.”

At Kakeru’s flat and decisive words, everyone except for Kiyose looked relieved.

“You can’t know that without even trying.”

“I do know. Schools that are powerhouses at athletics do tough practices every single day for years, but even so, only a handful of universities are able to participate in Hakone, you know?”

“I don’t want to brag, but I’ve hardly ever ran before.” Prince, who was reading the manga he brought as though none of this had anything to do with him, lifted his head for the first time in a while. “I think it will take longer for someone like me to be able to participate in the Hakone Ekiden than a paramecium evolving into a human.”

“I’m sure even Prince should be faster than a paramecium.” King consoled him poorly.

“A paramecium is a paramecium. Even if it evolved, it won’t become a human.” Yuki cut the conversation off coldly and abandoned it.

Without lending an ear to the voices on the outfield, Kiyose looked directly at Kakeru.

“I’m surprised that you’d tuck your tail between your legs without even trying. Practice is important, but it’s not just a matter of doing hard training recklessly.”

Kakeru also took on the challenge head on.

“Haiji-san, you must know since you also run. Everyone here are amateurs. What is the point of dragging them into such a dream-like story and putting them through pain on purpose?”

“It certainly will remain a dream-like story if you don’t try,” Kiyose unusually exposed his feelings and vehemently argued in an irritated tone. “However, these guys have plenty of potential. Nico-chan-senpai has track experience. In high school, the twins and King were on the soccer team, and Yuki was in the kendo club. Shindou walked the mountain paths for ten-kilometer round-trips to get to school, and the potential hidden in Musa’s physical strength is immeasurable.”

“It’s a prejudice that black people are fast,” Musa said weakly. “Just like how there are black people who hate hip-hop or are bad at dancing, I’m not particularly fast either.”

“It’s been seven years since I’ve done track,” Nico-chan smiled bitterly as he lit a new cigarette.

“It doesn’t seem that I’m being counted, but it’s true that I’m terrible at sports.” King said timidly as he flipped through his manga idly. Kiyose still only looked at Kakeru and spoke passionately.

“And then, Kakeru came to Aotake. We now have ten people all together. Hakone isn’t a mountain in a mirage. This isn’t a pipe dream. It’s a reality where we can tie on our sashes and ascend!”

There was a scattered round of indifferent applause, and it stopped after Kiyose snapped, “Stop fooling around.” Cutting Kakeru off when he still tried to argue back, Kiyose recited from memory the “Hakone Ekiden Entry Qualifications” as though to double down on it.

“‘A registered athlete of the Inter-University Athletic Union of Kanto who belongs to the participating school and applied to participate in this competition no more than four times. If one only participated in the qualifying round, that is included in the number of times.’ The residents of Aotake are members of the Kansei University track and field team, and the team members are automatically registered with the union. Including the qualifiers, there is no one here who has participated in the Hakone Ekiden even once. See, we fulfilled all of the qualifications for participation.”

“The problem is those qualifiers.” Kakeru was finally able to interject. “You can’t just suddenly appear in the Hakone Ekiden.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that,” Shindou muttered.

“Most people only watch the finals on New Year’s,” Kakeru nodded.

“Twenty schools can participate the Hakone Ekiden, but only the top ten schools can get seeded. Every year, about thirty schools take part in the qualifiers that open in October.”

“If it’s thirty schools from all the universities in Kanto, then it’s not that many, isn’t it?”

To Jouji’s words, Kakeru declared, “Naïve!”

“For Hakone, ten people run ten sections, but each section is more than twenty kilometers. Naturally, the qualifiers are also decided by the total times of the athletes from each university for running twenty kilometers all at once. But…first of all, that twenty kilometers is a big problem.”

Pressed by Kakeru’s gaze, Kiyose reluctantly supplemented his words.

“It’s difficult to obtain ten people who can run twenty kilos at a reasonable speed. What’s more, the speeds are getting faster and faster in recent years. There are also prerequisites for taking part in the qualifiers: You must have an official record of running five-thousand meters within seventeen minutes, or ten-thousand meters within thirty-five.”

Perhaps feeling overawed from hearing specific times, silence descended on the room for a while. This time, it was Kakeru who continued.

“The top-level universities that participate in the Hakone Ekiden have most of their athletes run five-thousand meters in the first half of the fourteen-minute range on average. And, that’s a result collected from the best all over the country. Hakone isn’t a competition that you’ll be able to reach just with lip service. A weak track team from a university that doesn’t even do sports referrals doesn’t have a chance to be able to participate.”

Prince timidly raised his hand and spoke up.

“Um, I don’t really get the greatness of that record.”

“Haven’t you done endurance running in high school?” Jouta asked him in a hoarse voice, but Prince only shook his head and said “Not at all.”

“My high school was a university-preparatory school (4), so endurance running was just three kilometers.”

“If it’s five-thousand meters within seventeen minutes, then that means that’s a faster pace than three-and-a-half minutes per kilometer,” Yuki calmly calculated in his head.

“Three-and-a-half minutes! It took me about fifteen minutes to run three kilometers, I think.”

“That’s…hopelessly slow,” Nico-chan muttered without stopping from smoking his cigarette.

“Running five-thousand meters in seventeen minutes is only the condition to participate in the qualifiers. It’s hard to go to Hakone unless everyone has the ability to run in the fourteen-minute range,” Kiyose pointed out more and more calmly.

“It’s obviously impossible for us, isn’t it,” Jouji said brightly as though dismissed from a terrible job. However, Kiyose didn’t give up.

“For long-distance, you need to have endurance and concentration. You can’t just practice lazily. If we narrow down the target to just Hakone and make adjustments, then we can do the impossible.”

“What are you basing all of this confidence on?” Kakeru was amazed.

“If you’re talking about the basis, then it’s what I said before. The residents of Aotake have hidden potential.”

Kiyose was imposing. Probably even the people who had lived with him at Chikusei-sou for several years hadn’t noticed how much passion he had within him until now.

“To put it in concrete numbers, Kakeru can run five-thousand meters in thirteen minutes. Even among the athletes who take part in Hakone, it’s an incredible record that only a small number of people hold. By the way, at the track meet I was at right before I got injured, my record was fourteen minutes and ten seconds. I’ve fully recovered it from it recently, so I’m fully prepared for my legs to break after finishing the Hakone and strengthen that record.”

“Uh, no, you don’t have to go that far.” Yuki, who did not seem to like hot-bloodedness, murmured. “While we’re at it, I want you to stop dragging me into this.”

Kiyose ignored his objection.

“Furthermore, Musa can probably run it in just under fourteen minutes too. All the foreign athletes who take part in Hakone are in the thirteen-minute range.”

“I think it is because those people are overseas students who are expected to be fast.” Musa desperately explained while looking to Shindou for help. “It’s impossible for me. I’m a government-sponsored foreign student in the faculty of science and engineering, after all. More specifically, a car picks me up and drops me off at school in my country.”

“If you had that much money, why did you come to a place like Aotake?” Jouji raised a reasonable question.

“It is so that I can gain life experience. I did not see this happening…” Musa said, looking like a wilted morning glory. Without minding any of that, Kiyose summed everything up.

“Anyways, for the rest of it, if you could just turn a bit of your passion for mahjong or clubbing to running, we will definitely get good results. After all, you guys have more than enough physical strength, at the very least.”

Fueled by Kiyose’s ardor, some of them were gradually becoming more and more enthusiasm. Kakeru sensed that in the mood. As if it was something that easy. He roughly filled up his cup with sake.

A group of only amateurs aiming for the Hakone Ekiden. And what’s more, there was only half a year until the qualifiers in October. If someone who did track seriously heard that, they would think it was recklessness to the point of laughing it off as sleep-talking. What on earth did Kiyose thought running was?

Was inviting me to Chikusei-sou also because he had this kind of ulterior motive? In the end, Haiji-san is the same as those guys from high school who would make a huge deal over only my speed.

However, he couldn’t storm out of the room. Don’t go along with this absurd conversation, just go back to your room. Even as he thought that, for some reason he couldn’t move his body. From somewhere in his heart, a voice whispered, Doesn’t this seem interesting? Are you going to continue to run by himself in a place away from the track and field world forever? If you are, it’s better to launch an attack on the Hakone Ekiden with the residents of Chikusei-sou. It’s not a bad idea to try.

The whisper became a spark that ignited Kakeru.

Kiyose had said it. Kakeru’s running was free and looked fun. That was why he called out to him. Until now, there was no one around Kakeru who had said something like that to him.

There was no need for fun or anything like that in running. You should only aim to improve your speed, and put off leisure, romance, and hanging out with friends. He had heard those words so many times from managers, coaches, and upperclassmen that he was tired of it. Kakeru had only ever been asked to run like a machine. Kakeru’s value was only the numbers engraved on the stopwatch. He should have had enough of those days.

The other residents also seemed to be deep in thought about something in silence. While not knowing what to do with the uncertain and pent-up feelings within him, Kakeru gazed at the room where no one moved an inch,

Eventually, Shindou raised his head.

“I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Surprise-filled gazes concentrated on Shindou. Nobody thought that he, who was quiet and reliable, would be the first to decide.

“In the sticks, I walked many kilometers of mountain paths everyday, so I’m confident in my endurance. Plus, if we make it to the Hakone Ekiden, we’ll be on TV, right? I think my parents would be thrilled about that.”

“If Shindou is doing it, I shall take it on as well,” Musa said. “But I am telling you this in advance, I truly am not fast. Are you fine with that regardless?”

“Everything will turn out fine as soon as our practice starts,” Kiyose said warmly, as though everything hinged on that.

Oi oi, Nico-chan frowned, and Yuki gazed out the window, pretending to be indifferent. Prince was inching towards the door little by little.

The rest of the residents on the second floor, who easily got into the mood and were up for anything, became lively with Shindou’s and Musa’s declarations of participation.

“Hey, hey, Haiji-san. We’ll be popular with girls, right?”

“We definitely will, right?”

“Will this really guarantee me a job?”

The twins and King energetically asked for confirmation in rapid succession. “Of course,” Kiyose assured them.

Kakeru wanted to shout, He’s playing you! However, he knew that it was no use no matter what he said. The twins and King only wanted to escape from the harsh reality facing them briefly. That was why they jumped at the bait called “Hakone Ekiden” that was dangling in front of them. They were like horses that had sweet candy made from crystallized dreams hanging in front of their noses.

King was in high spirits and said, “Alright. Let’s help with Haiji’s ambitions!”

“Now,” Kiyose said, and alternately mowed down Nico-chan, Yuki, Prince, and Kakeru, who still hadn’t confirmed their participation yet, with his gaze.

“By majority decision, it is already decided that we will be aiming for the Hakone Ekiden. But, I don’t think that’s going to convince you guys either.”

Wondering what was going to be said, Kakeru refrained from even breathing and prepared himself for Kiyose’s attack. Kiyose continued to calmly intimidate them.

“Therefore, I am going to use force. You guys have no veto power.”

“This is tyranny!”

“Is this kind of thing allowed in a country where the rule of law prevails?”

Kiyose laughed off Nico-chan’s and Yuki’s desperate protests right in front of them.

“Nico-chan-senpai. Who was the one who, when you were crying ‘I absolutely cannot fail this exam,’ dragged you out of bed on time with the kindness and strictness of a mother? Who was the one who helped you repaper your walls that get sticky with nicotine every year? Who was the one who repaired the floorboards you stepped through in the hallway without telling the landlord on you?”

Like a convict who reformed right before his execution, Nico-chan suddenly became quiet and docile. Kiyose changed the aim of his attack to Yuki.

“You haven’t forgotten about it either, Yuki, the taste of my osechi cooking, right? Last year, you couldn’t get a job because of your bar exam, so you bummed off of me for lunch for the whole year because you said you didn’t have any money. To think that you’ve forgotten about that…”

Yuki could only nod his head like a broken doll. Kiyose turned his blade immediately yet again and slashed at Prince’s back as he was opened the door and was about to escape from the room. (5)

“Prince. Because of your book hoard, Chikusei-sou is at the brink of collapse. Which will you choose: Throwing away your manga, or aiming for the Hakone Ekiden?”

Prince sank down to the floor, but showed a resolute attitude to fight back.

“I hate both of them! Both choices are like telling me to die.”

Prince’s grief-filled lamentations reverberated in the room. Kiyose crossed his arms with a “Hmm” and turned towards Kakeru again. Kakeru lightly raised his arms.

“I get it. ‘Who introduced you to Chikusei-sou? If you don’t like it, you can leave.’ Is that what you’re going to say?”

“I’m not going to say that to someone’s who broke,” Kiyose uncrossed his arms. “All right, then. Kakeru and Prince, I’ll give you a few more days. If you change your mind, tell me.”

Prince stopped lamenting, and approached Kiyose, standing in the middle of the room, a little bit.

“And if it doesn’t change?”

“Are you going to declare a state of emergency next time?” Yuki interrupted sarcastically.

“No,” Kiyose smiled gently. “I will persistently continue to call for your surrender.”

Kakeru’s and Prince’s shoulders slumped in unison.

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undergroundkid · 4 years ago

Text

9. Keep provoking my curosity

The new guest tore his gaze away from the phone to meet yours, acknowledging you with a simple nod. The lack of words was a little surprising, but he didn’t seem to hold grudges against you like some of the previous quiet guests from the last floor. Still thinking about how you’re better than everyone here? With a bitter swallow, you reached for his bag. - I will take your luggage – you took it with a huff, shocked about its weight:- Please follow me, Mister. He did so, tapping slowly on the screen of his phone. You weren’t quite sure if his silence was a pleasant turnaround or disturbing occurrence. Between rare small talks and not so infrequently quarrels, ignorance suited most of your guests. Chae’s reservations never played by these rules, though – wild cards, all of them.

The man beside you hide his phone but didn’t utter a word. You rode in the company of the elevator hum, signaling the 4th floor with a soft ding. You walked towards his door, the beginning of standard formula at the tip of your tongue: here’s your keycard, the restaurant is open… A loud groan stopped you in your tracks. You turned around with startle, only to be met with the surprised face of until now silent guest. He took off his facemask, showing off light, perfect skin. He giggled then, a warm, almost adorable sound, so dissonant with the rest of his visuals. - Oh, I am sorry Miss – he apologized with a small bow:- I’m just terribly tired and yawned before I could stop myself. You laughed along with him. - It’s alright, let’s make it quick so you can rest properly – you suggested, opening his apartment. Once inside, you dropped luggage and gave him short instructions about hotel regulations. Taking note of his earlier behavior, you drew the curtains and dimmed the lights to let his eyesight relax already. - If you need any help, don’t hesitate to call reception. - Everything seems perfect to me, thank you – he took his bag without any effort and laid it on the bed, which made you think why the heck he couldn’t do it earlier and left it to you to drag it all the way here. Why did people love to make your life harder? You should’ve call Yoonho to do this, it’s his job.. You’re exactly like your guests. Uneasy feeling sat in the pit of your stomach again. - Not sure about my coach though, he may nag you about anything really – the man laughed in a low voice. You glanced at his baggy tracksuit, awfully white sneakers, big, heavy bag – in addition, you caught a peek of a sport t-shirt inside with bright caption TEAM WONHO. He must be some kind of athlete, then. - Always glad to be of service – you decided to stay polite. - Ahaha, please, don’t encourage him – he snorted, sitting on the bed. In poor lighting, bags under his eyes weren’t so prominent as before, but his face hid some uneasiness. You weren’t sure if it was fatigue, though. Better to be cautious. He was one of Chae’s friends, after all, he could snap at you anytime. Or do something else; your tattooed wrist burned with a reminder one more time. - Hope you enjoy your stay, sir. - I hope so, too.. trainings are insane lately – with a sigh, he leaned his elbows on knees, slouching:- What's the point in trying anymore? All I do is mess things up anyway.. Unconsciously your feet already pointed towards the door; it wasn’t a conversation you should or even want to have with a man you didn’t know the name of. Damn, what were you supposed to say? You’re not a psychologist. How to act tactfully here? The question was if you really wanted to be tactful; or if you just wanted to leave. Your personal life was a solid confusion enough lately. Sir, please let me just do my job.. - I think you just need a proper rest – you spoke calmly, trying to induce such an effect on him. Luckily, he nodded in agreement. - Yeah, that sounds wonderful.. You bowed and left the apartment, closing the doors gently. Letting out a deep breath of relief, you wondered why your work is getting harder like this. Tourism was always full of surprises, as many of people-related businesses. But roller coaster like this was new; one day you are getting psychotherapy with a tattoo artist, another one you are deeply insulted, sometimes you briefly met someone decent and then you are getting tricked by tarot reader and.. well. Today you were met with a depressed sportsman. The small voice in your head recommended extra blankets and nice champagne to add in hotel system info about this room, but mostly you just wanted to get back to the backroom in reception. You didn’t want to bother about another messed up client. Sitting alone, pretending to work but being able to dwell in your own thoughts.. just being ignorant and properly don’t care.. just like your typical guests. You’re exactly like your guests. - Giving a poor hotel guide again? More than a reminder of harsh words, you were startled by the same voice behind you. Turning around, you were met with the main cause of your distress lately, your own nemesis, however dramatical it sounded. - Mr. Chae – you responded tightly. He looked a bit different; his hair a little washed out, not so outstandingly bleached anymore. He wore all black again, his blazer slightly damp from the weather outside. As much as it was normal, it was weird to see since you remember how unaffected he was by the snowstorm when you saw him for the first time. When he was a gentleman making odd reservations. - Not much changed, I see. But you did, sadly. The blonde slid keycard beside the knob to his door, not facing you, which didn’t stop him from talking: - I wonder when you will understand how short-sighted you are. What needs to happen for you to realize? Hearing harsh words from this man wasn’t new. Somehow expecting it, your feelings weren’t as hurt as before. Anxious, yes, but not stunned. Chae stepped into the room, finally looking at you with clear incomprehension. - You got help all this help from Changkyun only to be swept into your ignorance once again. A pity, really. Your breath hitched. - A help? – you whispered with the strained voice once again; stunned by Chae’s word, once again. - He’s a gifted reader – the man shrugged and added with a little, mocking smile:- And passionate lover, I suppose. You watched with horror as he started to close to the door; holy shit, your heartbeat loud in your ears, he knows, everybody knows, does everybody in this hotel know- - How did you know? Your heels stopped his door from closing; your instantaneous act making him raise his eyebrows. - So now we’re talking, I see ..? You weren’t so talkative- - How did you know?! - you almost hissed at him, all work etiquette thrown out of the window. You could already feel sweat forming at your temples, the effect of the mixed shame and anger. I am talking before thinking once more, you thought, but the rush of emotions muted any rational thoughts. All your fears building through the whole day came alive sooner than you expected. Hyungwon clicked his tongue. - You are missing the point, why am I not surprised? – he flicked lights on and stepped inside, taking off his blazer and simply ignoring you. You followed him inside, determined to find some closure on your constant distress. - You’re the one who’s not listening! I asked you how did you know! - Know what? How you were offered all the answers and still didn’t bother to act? - No, I mean me and Mr. Changkyun! - Seriously, I am saying the words and you stubbornly.. – his gaze fell upon your angered posture, clenched fists, and finally, teary eyes. He immediately softened:- Oh. You think I am judging you, do you? - What? – you tried to blink away the blurriness:- No, I want to know how do you know.. did you two speak? Does everybody know? He shook his head, stepping closer. You were babbling your nerves way. - Did you speak with anyone else? D-did you speak with my manager? I really don’t want to lose this job.. - Hush with his nonsense – he said, sweeping your tears away with his cold hand:- Why are you like this? Why are you afraid? - What.. what everybody will think when they will know? - Who is ‘everybody’? Your clients? Boss? – he took your right hand in his, thumb drawing circles in your uniform’s cuff. Your tattoo burned under the material:- Or is it you? Are you afraid to admit to yourself that you enjoyed this? You silently dropped your head. I am only a stupid doe. - You silly thing – he chuckled:- Did you want it? Not brave enough, you just nodded. - You wanted it, so you got it – his fingers under your chin made you look up. His face wasn’t as malicious as always:- Like a strong and independent woman do. You tried to turn away after his absurd words, but he stopped you. Chae’s eyes were nothing but sincere and a little bit playful as if the situation amused him. The small hint of a smile danced on his lush lips. - You conquered a fine man – he clicked his tongue, sound like before, but with faked shock:- Feisty huntress, someone would say. You couldn’t help but laugh. - I am nothing but hunted doe. - Tsk, tsk – he took both of your hands:- Only the dancers will know who leads the dance. Not sure how it worked, but you were able to let your worries go away – at least, for this moment. Saying your concerns out loud helped to realize how feeble they were actually. Unnecessary paranoia almost killed possible good experience; you should accept how free you felt then, after all. Freedom and being desired could build your self-esteem that your ex-boyfriend and the exhausting job definitely destroyed. Finally filled with comfort by the last person you would suspect, all your tense muscles could relax. This gave you a chance to inspect the man before you closely; marvelous as you remembered him. Long face, big, mischievous eyes. Your own followed the shape of his mouth; his tongue licked his lips. - Looks like I’m the prey– he murmured:- Where did little doe go? You gave him a small, mysterious smile, inching towards his face. - Oh I see.. – his breath mingled with yours:- Let’s the hunt begin, then?

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