#dory already loves her??

[ryssbelle]

N2 Floyd in the first movie

Sad little man got himself captured :(

He also gets punched in the face, but that's neither here nor there lmao

Also sorry for not posting for a fat minute I've been busy XD

Bonus: What John and Branch be doing

RIP in pieces John Dory, you were a brave troll and will be missed

I've got some more doodles of them going through it in the first movie, maybe we will see them soon teehee .

[asklesbianonceler]

I have not posted any of my analysis to reddit yet and I think I might just post it and ghost it. I've already spent too much time looking at other people's threads on there to feel any way good about interacting with folks.

I already went in an added the "I know you're going to bring this up let me save you the time" section which is exclusively touching on the frequent topics of:

"well what about the fingerprint nostrum and finger mimics? He is clearly just a crackpot"

And

"it's definitely some weird elaborate sacrifice to Metyr thing"

[melien]

I just had an embarrassing interaction with someone that I really want to get along with and then Doris's advice she gave Milo popped into my head. That person has moved on to other things and probably isn't even thinking of it! Thank you for writing an awesome character like her, who is honestly helping me deal with my social anxiety right now! 😊

Ahhhh this is so sweet, my heart is so full right now😭😭 Yeah I would say I agree with Doris here, this definitely can be helpful to remember, people have a short-term memory most of the time. But I also see Milo's perspective, some people could indeed get a certain impression of us from a small interaction. I guess it depends, but I do believe most of the time people are focused on themselves and their own actions (probably how not to embarrass themselves haha). The hard part is telling this to our brains. I was thinking how social anxiety doesn't just come out of nowhere, it usually comes from a string of prior bad experiences and all the silly societal norms imposed on us that center around playing some fake part and not fully being yourself, so it's definitely quite hard to put yourself out there repeatedly. So I'm proud of you and your little steps! Man I love rambling about human psychology, it's one of my special interests haha and I definitely try to put those things and different perspectives to reflect on into my stories too.

But yeah, I love Doris a lot, she's the best and so mature for her age! (I think she's like 17-18 in the story and Milo is about 4-5 years older?) It's really refreshing for me that the two siblings with completely opposite personalities are trying to support each other as well as they can. Doris usually speaks from her experience as an extroverted non-overthinker, and maybe it doesn't fully help Milo immediately to internalise it and apply it to themselves, but it does make it a bit easier to see that their sister is in their corner and is trying to be so understanding and helpful. It's really valuable to have someone who is validating our feelings and not acting annoyed at our anxious brain. Ahhh I love these two🥹

[weirdrandomtina]

So, I experienced some deju vu during this scene in Trolls Band Together:

John Dory grabs his backpack, says he's leaving (I'm done, YOLO, etc.), and then the last thing he says is "Goodbye Forever!", followed by Branch's distraught face, and the next thing Branch knows, all his brothers have left him and he never sees them again.

I was trying to figure out why that little snippet stuck with me, then it hit me:

Trolls Holiday in Harmony, when Branch is trying to figure out a gift for Poppy. He's worried about doing the wrong thing, disappointing her or freaking her out, and says "I CAN'T let that happen". He illustrates his point with Poppy packing a suitcase, and what does she say right before she runs off?

Really brings his abandonment issues into the light😢

I've seen a few comments of people being annoyed when Branch said to Poppy "aren't you going to leave me anyway", but they clearly don't understand how trauma affects people's mental and emotional state.

He knows Poppy loves him and doesn't actually believe she'd leave, but after a lifetime of being alone, even though he's happy and loved now, there's still that subconscious fear that he'll end up alone again. Poppy means everything to him, and he can't bear the thought of losing her too, especially as a result of something he's done (his grandma died to save him, and he believed his brothers leaving was his fault because he 'ruined everything' at the concert).

Sometimes this results in Branch trying to push Poppy away, which seems conflicting, yes, but again: trauma messes with your mind. He was already heartbroken and angry at his brothers, so he wasn't thinking clearly and blurted out his hidden main fear.

And when he says "everyone else [leaves me]" I hear "everyone in my life has left me so I must deserve to be alone, so you might as well leave me too."

And that's probably why Branch was so hesitant to be open with Poppy - 1. I might scare her away, and 2. why bother expressing my feelings to someone when I'll likely just lose them anyway. Plus he's still getting used to having someone to confide to in his life. Keeping emotions bottled up for years is a hard habit to get out of.

[marauder-misprint]

Slug Club

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

4.3k words

cw: fluff, drinking, smoking

“Did you have to take Regulus shopping with you?” Dorcas asks as you get ready for Slughorn’s party.

“You and Dory would have made me try on the entire store and then some.”

“Maybe so, but now he’s seen you in the dress.”

“So?”

“How are you going to have the moment when you walk down the stairs and he goes ‘Wow, you look dot dot dot beautiful’ if he’s already seen the dress?” Pandora asks.

You laugh and shake your head. “Someone has read too many romance novels. That doesn’t happen in real life and Regulus and I are just friends.”

“Did he not ask you to a formal party?” Pandora asks.

“He didn’t know it was formal when he asked,” you reply. “And he wanted to go with someone he could stand. I think the bar was set pretty low.”

“It’s Regulus,” Dorcas laughs. “That bar is high as hell.”

You and Pandora join her laughing. It wasn’t a secret that many people annoyed Regulus so he was picky with who he surrounded himself with. Well, as much as he could at this point. Barty had latched onto him during their first year and it was through Barty that Evan joined the group. You befriended Regulus during that year as well, bringing Pandora and Dorcas with you. So really, Regulus was friends with you and Barty, and you two came with baggage in the form of additional friends. 

With your hair and makeup down, you go behind the screen to change into your dress. In classic Slytherin fashion, you had chosen a dark green dress and are pairing it with silver jewelry. You step out and do a spin for the girls. They cheer and whistle at you. 

“He would so have a ‘You look beautiful’ moment if he hadn’t already seen the dress!” Pandora exclaims, standing up to fuss over you. “You look stunning, babygirl.” 

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Not to feed your delusions, but he’s only seen the dress. My hair wasn’t done, no makeup, no jewelry. He hasn’t seen the finished look.”

“He’ll be drooling when he does,” Dorcas says. 

You give the girls one last smile and leave your dorm. It was time to meet Regulus in the common room and then head to the party. The girls, however, follow you out of the dorm. They were nosy and wanted to see Regulus’ reaction. Sure enough, Regulus is waiting for you, although his back is to the stairs as he talks to Evan and Barty. The other two boys’ eyes go wide when they see you. Barty lets out a low whistle as Evan turns Regulus around by his shoulders. 

“Black is one lucky man,” Evan says, shaking Regulus’ shoulders. 

“Who knew our dove could clean up so nicely,” Barty adds. 

“Shut up, Junior,” you say as you approach them, although your words have no bite. You like a polite compliment, which, for once, these were. 

“Wait, Junior, how are you not in Slug Club?” you ask.

“You set one too many fires and suddenly Sluggy doesn’t care how brilliant you are,” Barty says with a sigh, despite sounding more amused at it than upset. 

You turn to Evan, “And you?”

“Apparently when a potion calls for frogs, he wants you to-”

“Ah,” you say, holding up your hand. “I remember that class now.”

Evan had cut open the frogs and was far more interested in its guts, muscles and other innards to finish his potion, earning him a zero for the day and detention. 

“You do look beautiful,” Regulus says, not at all stumbling over his words as Pandora would have liked him to. “Shall we get going?”

You nod, take his arm and leave the common room with him. 

---

“Prongs, come on!” Sirius says, annoyed that James hadn’t spoken to him all week and now was refusing to tell him which tie was better. 

“You dug yourself into this hole,” Remus mumbles, not looking up from his book.

“Oh my god, it’s not a date! I just need to get into the party and Lily is my way in!”

James glares at Sirius.

“He’s only been in love with her since we were first years,” Peter adds. 

“If you two had better taste, I’d be asking your opinions, but alas,” Sirius groans and turns back to James. “Please, James, I’m not trying to mack on your love.”

“What if she was going to ask me, huh?” James snaps.

“She said she didn’t want to ask anyone. That’s part of why she said yes.”

“All these years, I’ve been asking her and you ask once. Once! How the hell does that make sense?” 

“Logic would say she fancies Sirius,” Peter says before immediately ducking to avoid a pillow thrown his way.

“She does not fancy me. If she did, I wouldn’t’ve had to swear on James’ broom that I would be on my very best behavior.”

James jumps up and grabs Sirius by his shirt collar.

“You damn well best be a goddamn gentleman all night, Black.”

“I will if you tell me. Which. Tie.” He holds up two almost identical ties and waves them in front James’ face. 

James takes a slight step back and takes in the ties.

“This one.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?”

“I swear, Padfoot, if you do anything-” James warns.

“She will be treated like the lady that she is, Prongsie. Don’t you worry one bit. I’m not making any moves on her.”

“So why are you so desperate for a Slug Club party?” Remus asks. 

The boys had been wondering this all week, but every time they asked, Sirius changed the subject or found a reason to excuse himself from the group. He’d have to tell them eventually.

“Tryin’ to suck up to Slughorn,” Sirius grumbles, not looking at any of them. He focuses on tying his tie. 

Peter snorts a laugh. “Yeah, right, sure you are.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not. You’d be paying more attention in Potions if you were,” Remus says. “Try again.”

“I heard there’s going to be booze at this party?” 

“More believable,” James says. “But you don’t need my darling Evans for access to booze.” 

“Host, no. Drinks, no. Person?” Peter lists off.

“Person?” Sirius asks, turning towards Peter.

“Person,” he repeats with a smile. “You’re going for a person.”

“Oh, are you jealous, Padfoot?” James teases. “Some doll ask someone else and you’re trying to make her jealous with Lily?”

“Maybe I want an evening away from you bastards,” Sirius suggests as he finishes getting ready. 

He hurries out of the dorm before they can get another word in. If they were going off the idea that whoever he was interested in was in Slug Club, hence the needing to invite someone, he had time before they figured out it was you he was going to the party for. Of course, they’d come to that conclusion much faster as soon as word got back to them that you were at the party. 

Sirius was delighted to see that Lily was waiting for him in the common room.

“Evans!” he calls. “Sorry I kept you waiting. You look ravishing.”

Lily gives him a kind smile.

“Thank you, Sirius. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

Sirius spins, giving her a full 360 view. Lily stifles a giggle. 

“So is James talking to you yet?”

Word had gotten out that James wasn’t talking to him fairly quickly, at least among the Gryffindors. It wasn’t hard to notice when the loudest of the Marauders were suddenly more quiet. 

“Only after repeatedly telling him I’m not making a move on you.”

“A means to a mysterious end, that’s all I am to you?” she asks with a playful nudge. 

Sirius shrugs. “The end is mysterious to me too.”

“Then why am I dragging you to this?” Lily asks more indignantly as they walk towards the portrait hole and out into the corridors. 

“You’re not dragging, remember? I asked you.”

“You informed me, and I’m gracefully indulging you.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not but okay.”

Lily wouldn’t tell anyone, but she actually didn’t mind that Sirius had insisted on going with her to the party. Not only did she not have to worry about asking someone, she did consider Sirius a friend, albeit using the term loosely, and she didn’t have to worry about any unwanted advances from him. 

By the time they made it to the area Slughorn had reserved for the party, most of the Slug Club had congregated. The room itself was decorated to Slughorn’s taste, elegant with lots of greens in various hues. In Sirius’ opinion, it had a hint of old money flavor to it. And, to his delight, he spotted his reason for coming within a minute. 

You and Regulus are chatting with Professor Slughorn in the middle of the room. Of course, there were a handful of other students around him as well, as well as some distinguished alumni. Sirius hadn’t considered that graduated Slug Club members could be invited. Lily takes Sirius’ arm and leads him in the opposite direction of Slughorn.

“Shouldn’t we say hello to the professor?” he asks as she pulls him to stand around an empty hightop. 

“We will,” she says casually, looking around the room. “When there’s less people. Didn’t you see your brother’s over there?”

“Oh, is he?” Sirius asks, feigning having not noticed. “I didn’t notice. Suppose we can wait then.”

He had seen his brother. And, somehow more importantly, you. You in your dazzling green dress and silver jewelry that screamed Slytherin Royalty. He didn’t plan out all of tonight, but he knew he had to get close to you again, talk to you. The more he interacted with you, the more you’d have to like him. If you were going to claim to be a dog person, you had to like him. But until he could get close to you, he would chat with Lily. At least she was a decent conversationalist, given that in any other year, he’d rather die than be dragged to a Slug Club party.

After your initial greeting from Slughorn and the conversation turned more toward Regulus and the other Slytherins around you, you zone out. If anyone tries to get your attention, you already had planned to say you were admiring the decorations. Or that you were seeing which other guests you recognized. You cough to stop yourself from laughing when you see Sirius walk in with Lily. Regulus gives you a confused look so you gesture in their direction. His eyes go wide.

“Merlin…” he mutters.

You both quickly turn your attention back to Slughorn’s conversation, lest either of you be discovered staring at the Black sibling. You nod as the other Slytherins let out various words of agreement to something Slugborn said. 

“Regulus, how is the Quidditch team doing?” Slughorn asks, changing the subject unexpectedly.

“Oh, ah, I’d say we’re doing well. Training tough like usual,” Regulus answers. 

“Then you should meet Mr. Tradeswell. He manages the Magpies, as you know,” Slughorn says, draping an arm around Regulus’ shoulders and taking him to meet one of the older guests. 

You give the other Slytherins a polite smile and follow them. You did not plan on being separated from Regulus at this party. If that meant suffering through a conversation solely about Quidditch with someone with professional connections, so be it. You were more than happy to be quiet and listen. It doesn’t take you long to zone out of the conversation again, only picking up bits and pieces.

“Regulus here is Slytherin’s seeker. Quite a talent, he is,” Slughorn was saying. 

“Are you captain?”

“No, sir,” Regulus answers, his voice dripping with even politeness. You smile at how rehearsed his tone sounds to you. “We have a seventh year captain, and she’s brilliant on a broom. I have my fingers crossed for next year.” 

Regulus shoots Slughorn a smile. He knows he’s a shoo-in for the role, especially if this conversation goes well. 

“Ah, well, you know it’s more than luck to be captain,” Mr. Tradeswell says. “You have to know the game, your teammates, the positions, plays, everything.”

“Oh, sir, I do. I sub in for different positions during drills. I think that’s something a captain should be willing to do, have such a deep understanding of each position that they can fill in where they are needed most. While my specialty is seeker, I’m more than competent at chaser as well.”

“And your weakness?”

“Beater, sir.”

The man nods. “It’s good for a captain to be able to spot weaknesses. In yourself, in your team, in opponents.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

You scan the room. Sirius and Lily are off to the side of the room by themselves. He appears to be entertaining her, although she occasionally glances toward Slughorn. They hadn’t been to say hello to him yet and you knew that was required. It was why Regulus had dragged you up to him the moment you two arrived. 

“Let’s just get it over with,” he had muttered to you. 

And then you got stuck talking with him for what felt like forever. 

“Are you on the team as well?” Mr. Tradeswell asks you, bringing you back to the conversation.

“Oh, no. I’m no good on a broom.”

“She’s being modest, of course,” Regulus says, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

You flinch slightly at the unexpected touch, but you don’t pull away or remove his arm. It steadies you once you’re over your initial reaction. 

“I can fly, but not nearly well enough to be on a team,” you say, giving Regulus a damning look. “I’m much better suited for the stands.”

The man laughs and your eyes find Sirius as he follows Lily toward the professor.

“Every team needs their fans,” the man says, giving Regulus a wink. 

Lovely, he was assuming you were more than a friend. With his arm around you though, you couldn’t blame him. Mr. Tradeswell continues talking with Regulus and you’re allowed to let your attention drift. Why you kept going back to Sirius, you weren’t sure. Something about him being here was off putting. Even from a distance, you could see how uncomfortable talking to Slughorn was making him. He didn’t even try to hide it. He was looking everywhere around the room but at the professor and he kept shifting his weight. Unlike his brother, he didn’t have an arm around Lily, not even her shoulders or a linked arm. 

Then he made eye contact with you and gave you a wide smile. You give him a nod in response.

“Pardon me, but I’m going to get a drink,” you say and Regulus’ arm drops from your waist. 

He gives you a concerned look, but your relaxed smile calms his nerves about you leaving. He thought you were uncomfortable with the conversation, and while you weren’t enjoying it per se, you really just wanted something to hold in your hands.

You could have predicted that Sirius would excuse himself from Lily and Slughorn’s conversation as soon as he saw you leave his brother’s conversation. And that he did. He approaches the punch bowl at the same time as you.

“Darling, what a total surprise to find you here!” he exclaims, reaching for a cup.

“I literally told you I’d be here.”

“Did you?” He gives you his trademark lopsided smile. 

“You didn’t seem to know what it was then. So how’d you convince Lily to bring you?”

“She asked me.”

You snort a laugh and pour yourself a drink. “Yeah, I don’t believe that.” You pause and sniff your cup. “Do you think this is spiked?”

“Do you want it to be?” Sirius asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Godric, please.”

Sirius pours his own and sniffs it as well.

“Sad to tell you that there’s nothing good in here.” He looks around the room and then smiles. “But I see someone who definitely can help us.”

You follow his gaze to one of the younger older guests. You recognized her as an older Slytherin but you didn’t know her name. Without thinking, you start to follow Sirius as he walks toward the woman.

“Andy!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as you get closer.

Her eyes nearly double in size when she recognizes who’s approaching her.

“Sirius? I thought you weren’t in Slug Club?” she asks with smile that looks uncannily like the one on Sirius’ face. “This your girlfriend?”

You and Sirius both laugh awkwardly before Sirius hugs the girl, Andy.

“I’m not and she’s not. In Slug Club or my girlfriend,” he says before turning to you. “This is my cousin, Andromeda.”

You hold out your hand to the girl. “I recognize your face. You were a Slytherin, right?”

“Yes. As were my sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix. However, I’m like good ol’ Sirius here. Disowned and blown off the tree.”

You recoil slightly, not knowing what that meant.

“I’m, uh, actually here with Regulus,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the younger Black. He is still deep in conversation with Mr. Tradeswell. They moved their conversation to a table and if your eyes weren’t mistaking you, Regulus was taking notes. 

Andy laughs and you can’t help but hear the family resemblance. Regulus laughs like that. 

“So if you’re here with Reggie, who are you here with, Siri?”

You look over at Sirius at the nickname that you’d never heard anyone call him. You give him a curious yet amused look.

“Lily Evans. Brilliant witch but not my type,” he says, ending the sentence with a more hushed voice. “Anyways, do you have anything to make this party more tolerable?”

She was definitely a Black. As soon as Sirius asked, a mischievous look shone in her eyes and she reached into her purse. She pulls out a handful of small vials of clear liquid. She claps them gently into Sirius��� hand.

“Don’t get caught, Siri. I’m still on decent terms with Horace. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Andy, you’re the best!” Sirius says, sliding the vials into his pocket but keeping two out. 

He hands one to you and simultaneously, you cap them and pour the contents into your drinks. 

“I’m not going to… wake up in Feldcroft or anywhere, am I?” you ask.

“They’re not that strong, darling,” Andy says with a smirk on her face. She was clearly enjoying this conversation as an unexpected delight to her evening. “But they’ll make the conversations feel less dull.”

“Okay then,” you say. You give Sirius a smile. “Bottoms up!”

You chug your drink. Sirius and Andy watch with semi-impressed looks on their faces. Once you finish, you hold out your hand to Sirius. An expectant look is etched across your face. He subtly shakes his head but hands you another vial nonetheless. You go back to the drink table to refill your cup. You don’t hear Sirius bid his cousin farewell and follow you. 

“Didn’t think you’d be chugging, love,” he says.

You jump at his proximity. You automatically roll your eyes as you turn toward him and pour the second vial into your cup.

“You didn’t just suffer through a conversation with Mr. Quidditch Manager over there,” you say with a jerk of your head toward Regulus. 

 “Quidditch Manager? James should really meet him.”

“Whatever he wants to know, he can get from Reg,” you say. “I think he’s taking notes.”

Sirius laughs, “Of course he is… They’re a bit the same in that sense.”

“And that’s where it ends.”

Sirius sips his drink. You’re still looking at Regulus so Sirius has a moment to take in how being near you makes him feel. On his toes? Challenged? Alive? 

You don’t seem phased when you turn back and catch Sirius staring. 

“You like my dress too?” you ask cheekily. “So does Regulus. And Evan. And Junior. And Pandora. And Dorcas.” You smirk at him. “So join the club.”

Sirius hums and regrets what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“It would look better on my dorm floor.”

You laugh. Loudly. Sirius certainly wasn’t expecting that and it draws the eyes of those immediately around you. It includes Lily and Regulus, although Mr. Tradeswell doesn’t seem to care. 

“Yeah, sure it would.” You pat Sirius on the shoulder. “You’re not even one drink in and you’re saying silly things.”

“Habit, darling,” he says, trying to cover his tracks. “A flirt’s going to flirt.”

You roll your eyes at him, but he just smiles now.

“Actually, though, how about we step out to finish these?” he asks as he pats his pocket enough for you to hear the soft tinkling of glass.

You shoot a brief look at Regulus who has returned to his conversation. You were supposed to be his date. What about Sirius’ date?

“Won’t Evans miss you?” you ask. 

“Don’t make me laugh,” Sirius says, already grinning. He could tell you want to say yes but are looking for a reason to say no. “As long as I… ugh, stay out of trouble, she doesn’t care.”

You purse your lips, giving Regulus one last look.

“Fine. You got any of those cigarettes?”

His grin gets wider, if that’s even possible.

“I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“Would you believe that I don’t drink either?”

You share a knowing look with him. Sirius throws an arm around your shoulder and guides you out the entrance of the room. You really hoped Regulus wouldn’t miss you too much, but he looked content when you left. You and Sirius don’t wander far. He turns into an alcove with a window. He cracks it open before leaning against the wall and fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He hands you one and lights it for you. 

“Just so you know,” you say, taking a drag, “I’m only out here because Reg looked okay.”

“He can fend for himself. He’s a big boy.”

You shrug. “He was pretty strung out that Sluggy wanted everyone to have a date for this thing.”

“A big boy who focuses on the wrong things… Most of the time.”

“He’s set to be Quidditch captain and his grades are nothing to turn a nose at. I’d say he focuses just fine.”

“Sure, but he’s in Slug Club.”

“So is your Lily Evans.”

“And she was friends with Snivellus until last year. Everyone has their faults.”

“Our faults are abandoning our dates to split mystery shots and smokes,” you say with a laugh. You finish your second cup, place it on the window ledge and hold out your hand for a vial. “Come on now, Black. Don’t be stingy.”

“You’re already a shot ahead of me.”

“And I’m about to be two. Give it.”

He gives you a look you can’t quite read before handing you a vial. You uncap it and take the shot. 

“So,” you say after making a gagging noise, “Andy. What’s this tree she’s burned off of? You’re burned off of? Is Reg burned off it?”

“We, my parents have a family tree at home. They update it. And once you’re disowned, your face gets burned off. She’s engaged to a muggleborn so by family rules, off she goes. I ran away. Off I go.” He pauses and blows smoke out the window. “Your precious Regulus is still on the tree.”

“My precious…” you chuckle. 

Sirius takes a shot. “He is yours, isn’t he?” 

You immediately stop laughing.

“Regulus?”

“Yes.”

“No, Merlin, no.” You shake your head a little too fervently. “Friends. Just good friends.”

You hold out your hand for another vial. Sirius holds it out to you, but he doesn’t let go when you grab it.

“Are we friends?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to pull the vial from his grasp.

“Are we friends, darling?” he repeats.

“If it gets me this vial, yes,” you spit. 

He lets go and you almost throw the vial to the ground with the force you were pulling it with. Almost. You uncap it and take the shot. You were beginning to feel the effects of your drinks. 

“Why does it matter if we’re friends?” you ask curiously, although your face is wearing a cold expression.

“You’re supposed to like me,” Sirius says with a shrug. 

“What?”

“You claim to be a dog person.”

Your cold laugh echoes around Sirius. It wasn’t the warm laugh that made his stomach flip; this one made it sink.

“You’re still on about that? I don’t get it, Black.”

“If you just gave me a chance,” he says, taking a step toward you.

You take a step back. “I did. And I decided your brother is more my taste.” You tilt your head. “He still is.”

“Why?”

“For the person he is.”

You snuff out your cigarette before it burns your fingers. You give Sirius a polite smile before turning to return to the party. You barely hear Sirius speak as you walk away.

“But I am a dog person.”

---

“Sorry I was gone for so long,” you say when you find Regulus.

You’re grateful he isn’t talking to Mr. Tradeswell anymore. He’s just sitting with other students.

“Where did you get alcohol?” he hisses, leaning toward you.

“Oh, you can smell that?” you ask, briefly trying to smell yourself.

He brings up his hand to stop you. “Yes. Now where?”

“Met your cousin officially. Andy. She gave some to Sirius and, well, he likes to share.”

“I think he likes you more than he likes sharing.”

You roll your eyes. “He just wants to be friends for some reason.”

“Yeah… Some reason…”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark, @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke

Can you tell I like ending chapters with little comments from Regulus? Also debating creating a series masterlist so I don't have to keep updating each chapter. Anyone got title ideas beyond "A dog person"?

[imasoftieforbarb]

reactions and headcanons of brozone about: how would they fell about y/n having an egg?(once married ofc) sorry if too much

John Dory

Definitely hubby material

Van life with you and him?

Chef kiss

Ok

He definitely gives malewife vibes

Because he’s so used to being the responsible one

But he also deserves a break so you split all the chores in half

You surprise him with your pregnancy announcement by giving him a cup that says “worlds greatest Dad”

He’s shocked

Like he goes still and you worry- what if he doesn’t want children? It wasn’t a planned thing

And then he just scoops you up in arms and twirls you around

So many happy tears

Instantly tells everyone possible he’s gonna be a dad

That might is now his favorite mug- but he refuses to use it until the baby is born

Those chores that you split? He is now taking on all of them so you can focus on the baby

Likes to speak to the egg, honestly he’s so sweet with it

Definitely plays brozone through headphones around the egg (“John what are you doing?” “I want them to have good taste”)

Clay

He gave up his admin house for you

Y’all still live in Putt Putt village (because I say so)

Viva moves to Pop village so he goes from co runner to leader

So y’all get her room/house

Being married to Clay is so chill

He’s so sweet and literally talks about you non stop even though more often that not you’re with him whilst he’s working

He found out about the pregnancy when you gave him a mini matching green sweater romper

He was like

“Thanks! Not sure if it’ll fit me but I love it anyway!”

It takes him a moment

He leaves the room then runs back in pointing at you like he’s in law and order

“YOURE PREGNANT?!?”

You are now on permanent bed rest

Likes to baby talk to the egg and sing it songs

Buys the new furniture immediately and then starts baby proofing the house

He’s determined to give this kid the best childhood

Bruce

When he marries you, that’s when he decides to change his name to Bruce

Y’all still open the restaurant on Vaycay island

You become the cutest couple on the island so fast

BEACH WEDDING

He definitely tears up whilst reading his vows

“Oh I’m crying…” *you pass him a q-tip* “what’s a q-tip gonna do?!”

Treats you like a queen

Another malewife vibe haver

But it’s not as strong

Y’all were already planning on having a big family

So when you tell him you’re having twins by making dinner, but putting two lil high chairs by the door

He sees them

And goes WILD

“What- is that? Does that mean? TWINS?!?!”

He’s so happy, so many happy tears whilst y’all hug

“Uh- honey? Who’s watching the stove?” “Oh shit…”

Floyd

Dedicated husband fr fR

Has photos of you everywhere

Gets drunk and gets so happy when you tell him you’re his wife not his girlfriend

“THis IS myY WiFE”

Everyone knows don’t worry

Always talked about having kids but didn’t plan for it

Well he did (but only in his lil dreams)

Then one day you made his dreams come true

He got home from hanging out with Branch

(Who you’d asked to keep him distracted)

And he comes home to a really big home cooked meal

And a decorated boiled egg

He goes to eat said egg- but you tell him to break it open

“Why?” “It’s a surprise hun- I’m not supposed to tell you”

Inside is a lil parenting book called ‘daddy and I’

Silence, smile on his face

Tears rolling down his face before he stands up and walked over to you putting the book down on the table

Wraps you up in a such a soft hug that you start crying too

Peppers kisses all over your face

“You really do make my dreams come true”

Doesn’t tell his brothers immediately- wants you to himself

Makes sure you’re careful with doing everything

Just likes to lie down on the bed with you and the egg and put his hand softly on the surface (he cries a lil bit everytime)

When he eventually tells people- it’s completely by accident

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Nat King Cole - When I Fall in Love 1956

"When I Fall in Love" is a song written by Victor Young and Edward Heyman. It was introduced in Howard Hughes' last film One Minute to Zero as the instrumental titled "Theme from One Minute to Zero". Jeri Southern sang on the first vocal recording released in April 1952 with the song's composer, Victor Young, handling the arranging and conducting duties. The song has become a standard, with many artists recording it; the first hit version was sung by Doris Day released in July 1952. The song reached number 20 on the Billboard chart.

A version was recorded by American jazz vocalist Nat King Cole in 1956, and featured on the album titled Love Is the Thing. The song was also used as the recurrent love theme in the 1957 film Istanbul, in which Cole sang the song on screen. The single was released in the UK in 1957 and reached number 2 on the UK Singles Chart. This recording was re-released in 1987 and reached number 4. Love Is the Thing reached number 1 on Billboard's Pop Albums Chart and number 1 on the UK Charts.

Natalie Cole recorded two different versions of the song: a contemporary R&B/smooth jazz version for her 1987 album Everlasting, and a more traditional version for her 1996 Stardust album as a virtual duet with her father Nat King Cole, including recordings of his vocals from his 1956 version. This version won two awards at the 39th Grammy Awards: Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals and Best Instrumental Arrangement with Accompanying Vocal(s) for arrangers Alan Broadbent and David Foster.

"When I Fall in Love" received a total of 68,8% yes votes! Previous Nat King Cole polls: #9 "Nature Boy"

[shutupineedtothink]

More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Give Thanks

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, familial judgement/bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mother invites a lonely coworker to Thanksgiving, a bit too lonely.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this is the second of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The smell of nutmeg hits you as you enter the house. That and the garble of voices. You take your time as you unlace your boots, keeping your jacket on as the rack is already overflowing with the like. You mentally ready yourself to face your famiiy and their annual judging panel. 

You peek into the front room as you keep a firm hold of the boxed pies you grabbed from your favourite bakery in the city. You promised dessert and you brought it. You'll put them down before you wade in the deep end. 

You enter the kitchen, rehearsing your greeting for your mother, but you're met with a stranger's back. He stands at the counter, scraping cranberry sauce from a saucepan into a serving dish. His brown hair is combed back neatly, though you can only see the ends from your vantage, and he wears a pressed shirt too white for the task at hand. 

You hesitate. Where the heck is your mom? You can't see the man's face but you can tell he's a bit too young for her. Or so you would assume. He could be a cousin's boyfriend and yet he might be a bit above that. 

"Um, hi," you say as you approach the end of the island counter, well away from him, "I'm looking for my mom." 

"Your mom? Doris?" He wonders. 

"Yeah," you answer as you set the pies on the counter. "I know I'm a little late..." 

"She just went to grab something from the cellar," he explains. "I'm Andy--" 

"There she is," your mom sweeps in with her seasonal gravy dish. "Mm, I knew you'd bring store bought." 

"They're from a local bakery." 

"You never did like being in the kitchen," she reprimands. "Oh, Andrew, that looks perfect. Not too runny." 

You glance at the man. This strange man draws praise from her like honey from a comb, whereas you find the task as easy as squeezing juice from a stone. You let it roll off your back like you have for years. 

"I got pumpkin, apple crumble, and some pecan. They usually sell out of that." You say. 

"Ooh, pecan," the man, Andy, says. 

"Oh, Andrew, my younger daughter," your mother introduces you as an afterthought as she goes to wash the gravy boat, "The typist." 

"Typist? Mom, I'm an admin assistant," you counter. "I guess it doesn't matter." 

"Just her, I'm afraid," she shuts off the faucet. "And her pies. No grandkids from her yet." 

You see that this year is going to be just like the last. You're better off facing the rabble of aunts and uncles waiting for you in the front room. Heck, the kids' table might be the place for you. 

"Thirty this year," your mother adds. 

You force a tight-lipped smile. When you were a kid, it was your grades or the stubborn bit of hair at the back of your head or that your sister, Tia, did it better. Now you're an adult, it's your lack of ambition or lack of kids. You don't think you lack the former and you don't really want the latter. Life is what it is. You have a job that pays your bills and you don't need to add to your cost of living. 

"I work with your mom." He offers. You look at him again. 

He’s tall, blue-eyed, distinguished. He’s older but carries it well enough. The thin lines around his eyes only add to his looks, and his thick beard further defines his jaw. 

"Oh, the law firm?" 

"He's a new partner," your mother preens. "Oh, he gave your brother some good advice too. Hopefully he can move out of that public office soon enough." 

Right, Rodney does everything right. He got into law, just like your mother told him too, and he has a pretty house and a pretty wife and three spoiled brats. Tia only has the one and a husband who works out of town every weekend. They're real grown-ups but to you, growing up seems boring. 

Your life isn't glamourous. You do diamond art or catch-up on the last issue of your favourite comic when you're not too tired. You get takeout once a week, otherwise you put the ready-made meals in the microwave and eat it in front of the television. It's not special but it's your life. 

"Public defenders do a service to the community," Andy says. "I did it for twenty years. It's not bad work. He can move up." 

"Mm, and yet you moved to a private firm," your mother challenges him. 

"Maybe you should be partner," he chortles at her playfully as he wipes his hands on the tails of the borrowed apron tied around his torso. 

"My mom makes really good stuffing," you say, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, even if you're not home for the holiday." You drag your feet along the tile, "I'm going to say hello to Auntie Toya." 

"Good luck. She's in one of her moods," your mother tuts. "Must be menopause." 

You leave before she can aim another snipe in your direction. She can't help but let the bullets fly and see where they hit. It might be thanksgiving, but you're struggling to find much to be grateful for. 

🍂

"Mandy has a Christmas recital. I'll be sending the invite in the family chat," Tia, your sister, proclaims. "If you can make it, she'd be so happy, huh, sweetie?" 

She pets behind her daughter's ear and makes her giggle. Every awes and cooes at the little girl. Just like when your sister was her age, she's the princess of the family. 

"I can try to bring the kids," Rodney says. "We're thinking to get Kelly into dance next year. I need to get used to those things." 

Everyone laughs. You're not very amused. You're happy the kids have hobbies, that they are doing interesting things, but you just don't care that much. Still, your happy to be able to fade into the background. 

"I'm sure your sister can make it," your mother says, bring you back into the universe, "she doesn't have anything else going on." 

Your eyes dart back and forth. Your mouth is full of potatoes. You gulp painfully. 

"I can set the date aside. I still have some vacation left," you choke out. You can't make up an excuse with a whole audience to call you out. 

You sink back into silence as Tia goes on about the show. They're doing The Nutcracker. Oh joy. You were never a fan. Why can't they do something fun, like The Grinch? 

"Don't think I'm included in that invite," Andrew says under his breath from your left shoulder. As the two loners at the table, you're put together. "Kinda awkward." 

He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. You shift and hide your embarrassment. You forgot there was a complete stranger here to witness your judgement. 

"Right, well... I'm sure you have enough going on," you say. 

"I'm sure you do too," he pokes at the yams. "Kids keep you busy but life is already hectic." 

"Sure," you agree dully. You don't want to be rude. "you have kids?" 

"One. A son. Grown. He went to his girlfriend's for the holiday and his mom... is not in town." 

"Bad timing," you take another bite of potatoes. Maybe next year you can come down with a timely case of the flu. 

"Don't be silly. She doesn't have a boyfriend. We'd all know," your mother trills with laughter. You pop your head up as the hairs on your neck tingle. You know she means you before you even catch her gaze. "It'd be such an achievement, she'd have to shout it from the rooftops." 

You lost track of the conversation and you're not sure how you became the butt of the joke, but you're tired. It's supposed to be a day for family but it just feels like you're being cast out of yours. You put your fork down. 

"I'm going to clear my plate. Think I had too big a snack on the drive here," you stand, gritting back your irritation. "As usual, stuffing's delicious." 

You get up and make your way along the table. The silence is dense. Oh well. If they want to make this painful, you can do the same. 

You go to the kitchen and find a container. You scrape your leftovers into it and shake your head. You suppose you are behind. You're thirty years old. Next year you'll be thirty-one and her chiding will be even louder. The ticking of the clock will only ger worse as the years go by. 

"You're right, stuffing's good," Andy says. 

You wince and glance over your shoulder. "Uh, yeah. Like I said, think my eyes were bigger than my stomach." 

He comes up next to you and rinses off his plate, "well, I think my stomach would be turning too after that." 

"It's whatever," you shrug. 

"Thirty isn't old. You got time," he says. 

"Thanks," you reply tersely. 

"Not that it's any of my business." 

You're silent. It isn't but you're not going to be rude enough to say that out loud. Unlike the rest of your family, you can keep your thoughts to yourself. They might think you're immature because you're not living behind a white picket fence, but at least you don't act like a teenager. 

"It's better to take your time. You know, you rush into big decisions and you can't undo them. They don't always turn the way people promise," he says. "You follow that road map, take one wrong turn and you're wife's spending Thanksgiving with her 'work husband' at a hotel." He opens the dishwasher and wedges his plate between the metal, "Work husband, secret boyfriend, you know..." 

You're struck by the revelation. You can hear the tension in his voice. The hurt, the anger. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," you utter dumbly. 

"You're sorry? She isn't," he reaches for your plate and rinses it next. "I'm not telling you because I want you to feel bad for me. I guess I'm trying to commiserate. It could be worse." He adds your plate to the washer, "you're doing nothing wrong. Being alone means you have choices. Being tied to someone... you have obligations." 

"Yeah, sounds about right," you say. "Well, thanks. Not to benefit off your pain but yeah." You put the lid on the tupperware and sidle along to put it in the fridge, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air. Getting a bit overcrowded in here." 

"A little," he agrees. 

You leave and hold your breath until you get to the front door. Who knew the stranger at the table would be the only one to make you feel welcome? 

You grab your coat from the guest room and push your feet into your boots at the front door. You go outside into the brisk air. It's actually nice. Refreshing almost. 

You sit on the porch bench. In the colder months, it's rarely used. It hasn't snowed yet but the frost glistening on the grass is foreboding. 

You tuck your hands into your sleeves and look along the street. The other houses with yellow windows, glowing with the warmth and shadow of happy families. This time of year has only ever been stressful to you. You're never a part of the fun, you're usually the source of it. 

The front door opens and you fight to keep your unease under wraps. You don't need your mom lecturing you. Again. Or Tia telling you not to be jealous. Whatever happens is always your fault. 

"Whew, it's cold," Andy's voice eases your nerves as it assures you it isn't who you fear. 

"Yep, I don't mind. It's the only thin I like about this time of year." 

"Really?" He nears and sits on the other end of the bench. "I'm a summer person, I guess. Used to be we'd go to some resort for New Years." He says. 

"Sounds nice," you say. 

"I know. I'm moaning about a luxury," he scoffs, "trust me, I get it. I got it all, what do I got to whine about?" 

"I wouldn't say that. You never know what people have going on." 

"Nope," he agrees and rubs his hands together. He's quiet as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs. He bends and unbends his fingers as he examines them then sits up again. "Brrr. Only good thing about this weather, snuggle weather." 

He laughs. You try to. It's an awkward joke. 

"Maybe I should get a cat," he suggests. 

"Maybe," you clutch your hands tight. You should go inside. You know he's being nice but he's ruined the moment. 

Your teeth chatter as you take a deep breath of the late autumn air. Just a little longer before you go back. You close your eyes. 

The bench creaks and you think he's getting up. He must get the hint. Instead, as you open your eyes, you feel a weight across your shoulders. You flinch and peek at him from the corner of your eye. 

"You're shivering," he says. 

You look at him then back to the road. You should pull away but you can't. It feels mean. 

"God, my hands are so cold," he grips your shoulder as he puts his other hand on your thigh. 

"Woah," you catch his thick fingers. 

"Come on, let's get warmed up," he breaks through your resistance and rubs your leg. 

"Alright, I don't know what you think--" 

"What's so wrong about it? Like trains passing through the night. My wife's cheating, you're single, we could have some fun," he purrs as he holds you against him. 

"Um, no thanks," you grab his fingers again. "I'm flattered but--" 

"Shh, shh," he peels his hand away from your leg, once more evading your grasp, and grabs your chin. "Your mom told me all about it. How you can't get a date--" 

"That's not--" you latch onto his wrist, "stop, please, Andy." 

"Come on," he turns your head and nuzzles your nose with his, "I'm so fucking lonely. My wife hasn't touched me in over a year." 

"Your wife-- Andy," you hiss. 

"Just kiss me, please? That's all I want. Just a little affection. To feel wanted." 

"You're-- stop. Let go of me," you try to dislodge his hold on you. He's too strong.  

He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours. You murmur and slep his chest with your other hands. He hooks his arm around you as he angles you toward him. You writhe and bite his lip. 

He gasps and pulls back, keeping you locked in his embrace, "listen, sweetheart, you wanna play hard-to-get," he squeezes your jaw until you whimper, "what's mom gonna think when she catches you all over her married coworker?" 

"No, that's not--" 

"I'm sure she'll believe you," he snarls and slides his hand down to your throat. 

"Why..." you croak. 

"Baby, please, it's not a bad thing," he moves you with him as he edges off the bench. He turns, one arm still around you, his other hand locked onto your neck. He bends and forces you onto your back as he settles over you. "I'm going to make you feel just as good as you make me feel." 

You wriggle and whine. What he says is just as scary as what he hasn't said. He'll make you feel as good as you do him, or as bad.

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[daisyblog]

Terrible Nines

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Arthur is going through a testing time and pregnant YN doesn’t know what to do.

Based on this request.

YN had noticed that Arthur’s behaviour had slowly been declining and his sharp tongue had been making a regular appearance. In the last few weeks, Arthur had pushed another child over in school, answered his teacher back and got sent off the football pitch in one of his games for telling the referee “you’re shit”.

In England it was the beginning of the school summer holidays, so Arthur had six weeks off school and YN was looking forward to flying out to meet Louis in Spain to enjoy a few weeks of joining him at the festivals.

The first week of the school break Doris and Ernest had come up to London with Louis’ grandparents to visit YN and Arthur. The three young Tomlinsons had always been close and due to being so close in age, were more like siblings than auntie/uncle and nephew. But YN had noticed during their visit that Arthur wasn’t his usual self.

Whilst a heavily pregnant YN sat outside in the garden with Jen and Len joining her around the table, the three children played together enjoying the sunshine before they had to leave to travel back to Doncaster.

As the grownups chatted about the two new additions that were about to join their family, after finding out Lottie was also pregnant, a sound of disagreements filled their ears.

“Arthur that’s not kind!”. Ernest stood with his hands on his hips and a frown covering his eyebrows.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he continued to kick the football around the grass. “I don’t care…go cry about it!”.

“Arthur!” YN shouted with disappointment as she heard her son being unkind to the twins. “Be kind please!”.

Without his eyes leaving the ball as his foot constantly kicked it. “He’s just being a cry baby!”.

Jen and Len shared a surprised look at the way Arthur was behaving, knowing he was usually a delightful little boy.

“Arthur Harry Tomlinson! You go back inside right now and have time to think about your behaviour please!”. YN instructed as she sat in her seat aware of others around them.

“Oh this is a joke…it’s shit man!”. Arthur kicked the ball in temper before running into the house.

“Stop swearing!”. YN scolded again. Shaking her head slightly knowing she needed to speak to Louis about the language he’s using around Arthur.

---

Anne had travelled up to London to stay with Gemma to look after her little one whilst she recorded her audio book. So of course Harry, YN and Arthur went to spend the day with Grandma Anne.

The afternoon at Gemma’s had gone smoothly so far. Arthur had been playing calmly with his little cousin, helping to feed her, offering to read her a story, and had even cuddled her to sleep. YN loved watching this side of Arthur, the loving and caring side.

Whilst the little one napped in her cot, Anne and YN were enjoying a chat and catch up over a cup of tea and Harry and Arthur were playing a board game.

Arthur and Harry had a lovely uncle/nephew relationship, and not once has he ever shouted or misbehaved for Harry so when that day came, they were all shocked.

“Uncle Harry? Can I sleep over your house tonight please?”. Arthur sweetly asked, knowing that the answer was usually yes because Harry couldn’t say no to his big blue eyes.

When Harry looked torn knowing the answer was no tonight due to him having to go to a studio session, Arthur sensed he was about to hear no from his uncle for the first time.

“Sorry little man but I have to meet Mitch and Kid tonight but I promise you can sleep over when you come back from seeing your Dad…yeah?”. Harry tried to break the news gently, already feeling so guilty for saying no.

Hearing the word no, felt like a hit to the stomach for Arthur who threw the dice from the board game with force. “Oh that’s not fair!”.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?”. YN asked from the sudden outburst and the sound of the dice hitting the flooring.

“Just shut up Mum!”. Arthur shouted as he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest in protest.

“Hey! Don’t speak to your Mum like that!”. Harry was surprised at Arthur’s tantrum but at the same time he wasn’t going to allow him to shout at YN like that.

“I just want my Dad!”.

---

Bedtime at the Tomlinson/Styles household was far from calm and relaxing. When YN asked Arthur to go and have a shower, he defied her and continued to play on his game and said “you can’t tell me what to do”.

After a big back and forth conversation and persuading Arthur to go and have a shower, he finally did it. But the behaviour hadn’t ended there. When it came to Arthur going to bed, he continued to switch on the light and try to play his game again, to which YN had to walk up and down the stairs countless times, which at 33 weeks pregnant was not ideal.

Sitting down later in that evening, the emotions caught up with YN. The Mum guilt she felt was overwhelming, she blamed herself for Arthur’s behaviour at the moment. She was worried there was more to his behaviour than she realised because it was a form of communication.

Knowing what she had to do, she reached for her phone and tapped a few times before she reached the name she was searching for. 

After a few rings, the voice she had been waiting to hear answered. “Hey babe! Everything okay?”. 

“Hi Lou…not really…Arthur’s behaviour has been terrible lately”. YN could feel the tears start again.

“How bad are we talking?”. Louis’ voice was full of concern, knowing YN was heavily pregnant and didn’t need the extra stress.

“Bad Lou…he’s shouting, swearing, answering everyone back…he was even cheeky to Harry the other day”. YN tried to explain without going into too much detail. “I think he’s missing you Lou!”.

“I feel so guilty that work is so busy at the moment…I feel like I’m letting you both down”. The pain was clear in his voice.

YN rubbed her hand mindlessly over her growing bump, feeling their little baby moving around as she spoke. “It’s not your fault Lou…you’re just doing what every other parent is doing and working to provide for your family….its just your job is not a nine to five”.

“Right leave it with me and I’m going to sort something”. Louis spoke quickly. “I’ll phone you in a bit…I love you three with all my heart!”.

“We love you more!”.

---

YN hadn’t heard from Louis since their phonecall the night before, but she knew he was busy so didn’t think much of it.

It had been a calm morning with just YN and Arthur enjoying so breakfast together, before they got dressed and headed out for a quiet walk together around the park.

When they arrived back home after their walk, they were both laughing together as they walked through the front door, which was something YN really needed lately. But what stopped the two in their steps was Louis standing in the hallway, a large cheeky grin covering his face.

“Dad!”. Arthur’s feet ran across the floor before he jumped into his father’s arms. “You’re home!”.

“Oh I’ve missed you lad!”. Louis squeezed Arthur close to him, not wanting the hug to end. “I’ve missed you so much”.

“How? Wait! How are you home?”. YN couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She wasn’t expecting to see Louis until they flew out to Spain in a few days.

“My family needs me”: Louis shrugged his shoulders as if it was obvious. “So I’ve come to get my three favourite people and take them back to Spain with me”.

“This is why I love you!”. YN quickly joined them in a much needed family cuddle.

---

With the pregnancy tiredness taking over YN, Louis decided to use this moment to have a much needed conversation with Arthur.

“Hey little lad”. Louis joined Arthur on the sofa, his arm leaving across the back of it. “I’ve heard you haven’t been yourself when I’ve been away”.

Arthur didn’t move his eyes away from the tv or say a word, knowing this conversation was about to happen. When Louis realised his son wasn’t going to say anything yet, he continued.

“I’m thinking something is bothering you and when you’re ready to talk about it…me and Mum are here okay?”. Louis had always been logical when it came to these types of situations, he had been an older brother so he was used to it.

“Mason in school said that when Mum has the baby that nobody would want me anymore”. Arthur words hurt Louis deeply and he was glad that YN hadn’t been awake to hear them.

“Arthur…I can promise you that…that would never happen”. He began to reassure the younger boy. “We would always want you, always love you and if anything we would love you more if we could because we’re about to see you become the best big brother and I can’t wait”.

“I’m really sorry for not being kind or good lately”. Arthur wore a guilty expression as he glanced up at his father.

“I know you are lad…do me a favour when your Mum wakes up…give her a big cuddle because she really needs it right now”.

Arthur nodded, a small smile began to show on his lips. “She really is the best Mum…you’re the best Dad too…me and the baby are so lucky!”,

“We’re the lucky ones!”.

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii

[blippymilk]

Hi! Could I request a brozone x female reader hc's where the reader is a bit sassy and the bros find it funny and hot lol. Thanks!

Brozone x Sassy Fem! Reader

A/N: Sorry for the long wait

————————————————————————————

John Dory:

- Completely head over heels for you

- John Dory loves a challenge and when you got sassy with him, you were definitely a challenge

- Finds it completely attractive and he thinks he’s going insane at first

- Before he gets with you he finds himself uninterested in others when they’re soft and easy, unlike you who always puts up a fight

- Left speechless sometimes when you shut him up with your clever comebacks/insults

“No cause you’re amazing and all but your attitude has been stressing me out lately.”

“Damn that’s crazy. Skill issue.”

“Wha- SEE!”

- Loves your tough demeanor though don’t let him fool you

Bruce:

- If anyone can handle a sassy reader the best, I definitely think Bruce would be the one

- If he can handle like 12 kids he can deal with you

- Loves his woman with a little spunk anyways

- Adores it having a woman that can not only stand up for yourself, but stand up for him too 😂

- If you have kids and they’re just as sassy he’s a little hysterical at first but he finds it hilarious when he gets used to it

“And I told her if she had a problem she can call my dad. Period.”

“*Nervous laugh* Period huh? Ok honey can you come here, I’m starting to think this kid is your clone.”

- But he’ll never regret his decision of choosing you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

Clay:

- Clay was meant for sassy women. Built for sassy women.

- I actually believe that he’d find non sassy women a little boring (but if he loves you, he loves you)

- At your constant beck and call (usually unless he’s working hard and he’s on a roll)

- If he could explain you in one word: “Hot.”

- If you’re ranting about some female who pissed you off today, he’s all ears. Just nods his head and agrees with your every word, even if you were considered “wrong” (like pffffft- how?)

“And this girl had the nerve to tell me I was stupid! Like be for real, didn’t you graduate highschool at 23?”

“No literally. I feel bad for you, she’s getting on my nerves just listening about her.”

“You get me so much.”

- Now he’s a big gossip and it’s all your fault 😂

Floyd:

- Probably didn’t realize you were sassy until he actually started dating you

- The second he watches you loose your temper he’s flabbergasted. And I mean that.

- Like for the next couple of days he’s basically jaw dropped

- When he finally gets over it he’s chill but once he sees you ima cation again, he feels…different

- Like suddenly this man’s heart is pounding, his cheeks are heating up, and his ears are practically smoking

- Accidentally picks up some of your attitude a little bit and sometimes it takes his brothers to point it out

“Are you serious Floyd?”

“Yup. But personally I told him he can miss me with that bs. Period. Wait-”

“HAH-”

Branch:

- Now we already know that Branch is a little sassy himself:

“Annnnnndddd~ a falsetto made of GOLD.”

“If this diaper was any smaller I could taste it.”

“Fine. But this is more than likely beneath me.”

- He however doesn’t realize he’s sassy so he’s unsure when it comes to you at first

- When he finally realizes that you’re the love of his life, you two are a pretty mouthy duo

- Like when his brothers first met you they were PUZZLED. Like eyebrows RAISED. They genuinely wondered if they had a long lost sister and they would have to break it to branch.

- If you were together during the plot of the first Trolls movie, you’d have Poppy stressinnnnnn

- Onc eye comes to an agreement that you both have that similarity in common, he just falls in love with you more 💙

————————————————————————————

[sunnie-angel]

Part 7: The Friend

part 6 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: you confront jason for disappearing as soon as he’d gotten you into bed. it does end the way you’d hoped.

tags: angst, implied sexual content, drinking as coping mechanism, vomit

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was a dialogue heavy update, so of course i struggled with it. i rewrote and reworked this a few times and i think this is as close to happy as i’m going to get. i’d love to know what you all think about it!

The diner’s too hot, warm air blasting directly onto the back of your neck. It’s the first time you’ve felt warm all weekend since stepping into Rei and Lina’s apartment what feels like a century ago. Fingers twitchy, you straighten the cutlery on its paper napkin. The minute adjustments do nothing to quell the nerves wriggling in your belly. Since the moment you woke up to a lonely bed, writhing, thrashing somethings had taken up residence in the pit of your stomach and the hollow of your throat. Your red dress sits crumpled at the bottom of your hamper, out of sight but not even close to out of mind. It’s not– it’s not just the leaving that had hurt. Everything before – the flirting, the kindness, the goddamn food – that was what stung. Jason hadn’t just been a ‘first name only forgotten in the morning’ hookup, he’d been your friend. He’d been someone you had trusted despite all your reservations with the messy bleeding parts of yourself. And he had left you behind. Fucker.

Jason slides into the booth across from you, silent. He looks...tired. Broad shoulders drooping, hair wild from fingers running through it, and bags the size of quarters heavy under his eyes. He stares back at your own dishevelled appearance. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it with a snap. You lean back onto the plastic coated cushion behind you and cross your arms. It’s hard to be angry when exhaustion is suffocating you both, but every moment that stretches out in the silence drips more venom into your veins. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason croaks, breaching this strange detente between you. “I’m– I’m sorry about Friday. You’ve been a good friend an’ I took advantage of that, took advantage of you, when you were vulnerable,” he takes a deep breath and soldiers on. “You’d been drinkin' and then the fucking mugger happened and– and that wasn’t a side of me I wanted you to see. Ever. You weren’t in the right mind for– for any of that and I knew that and I still kissed you back. I was supposed to look out for you an’ be the responsible one but I just took advantage without thinkin’. It was shitty of me to do that. I was a shitty friend and you deserved better– ” He pauses for breath and you interrupt him, incredulous that this of all things is what he is fixating on.

“That’s what you think I’m pissed about? Jason, I kissed you first so stop with whatever– ” you gesture at him “–this is. Yeah, I had a few drinks but I was already sobering up by the time we got to that alley and I was definitely sober after having a gun waved in my face. So get off your pyre of self-martyrdom because if anyone was taking advantage of the situation it was me. Jason, I’m angry because you’re my friend. You’re my friend and you left like I was just a random fuck.” Defeated you slump back in your chair. “I thought I– I thought at our friendship meant more than that to you but I guess not.” 

“Hello and welcome to Doris’s Diner, what can I get you started off with?” The waitress interrupts, cheerful voice a bucket of cold water. She looks back and forth between the two of you expectantly, pen tapping at her notepad. Her fixed smile starts to slip as she starts to notice the tense atmosphere.

“We’ll uh, just have water and we’ll let you know when we’re ready to order,” Jason intervenes. The two of you sit there in tense silence, unable to look each other in the eye but unable to look away, until the waitress returns with your drinks. Her smile is noticeably more forced. Perspiration beads on your glass, a fat droplet sliding down one side. Your fingers start twitching again and you grasp the paper wrapper of your straw. It shreds so easily under your nervousness.

“You are my friend, yeah?” He begins. “You’re maybe the best friend I’ve ever had. Us bein’ friends means everythin’. I was a coward, okay? ‘Cause I was afraid that you were gonna wake up and hate me and then I would have fucked up the only stable thing I’ve got goin’ for me.” Jason takes a breath and you glance back down at the pile of torn paper in front of you. Your heart feels about the same. “I think I fucked it up anyway.” Jason says wryly. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes so we can be friends again.”

Friends. Friends. Friends. Every time he says the word another nail hammers home in the coffin of the faintly burning desire to one day mean something else. For all the little gestures and kind words to suddenly materialize into something more than platonic affection. You’re angry, now, but even that burning bile hadn’t been enough to kill that little bit of hope kept carefully safe in the recesses of your mind. When he had kissed you back, lips chapped and warm under your own, that hope had sparked, caught fire. Maybe the warmth in your chest hadn’t been one-sided after all. Friends. God, you wish he’d stopped saying that. You wish he’d told you that the real reason he ran away was because he was overcome by emotion, like the Byronic heroes you study finally feeling true emotion. You should have known better than to wish for anything you couldn’t make happen with your own two hands. 

“So what, then? Where does that leave us?” you ask, hands balling into fists in your lap. “We just forget the whole thing? Put it all behind us and just go on like we never even slept together?” Jason doesn’t manage to suppress the flinch at the reminder but his pasted on grin doesn’t slip. 

“If you’ll give me a second chance, I’ll make it up to you, make it like it never happened, yeah?” 

No matter how badly Jason wants to pretend as though nothing has happened, neither of you are good enough actors to pretend that nothing has changed. There’s an awareness of each other that hadn’t existed previously. An awkward self-awareness of your own bodies in relation to each other. The gulf between you yawns cavernous, despite Jason’s smiling attempts to paper over it. This bell can’t be un-rung. But Jason’s trying. So maybe things between you aren’t working out into the fairytale ending you had wished for. Maybe the attraction between you really is one-sided, that Jason had just slept with you out of pity and then regretted that decision. You aren’t going to get what you want. The question is, what are you willing to settle for?

“Fine, whatever, we pretend the sex never happened,” you agree, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in twisting in the knife, “But your ‘night job’? You bet I’m still pissed about you practically stalking me and using that as an excuse,” you say. 

A muscle in Jason’s jaw twitches. Good. Maybe, maybe if he grovels a little more you two can resettle the equilibrium of your friendship but that doesn’t mean your heart your ego still doesn’t feel the hurt. 

“Is it– is it gonna be a problem for you?” he asks, voice suspiciously boyish. “It’s not– it’s not something I can stop being.” 

“Okay, first of all, you’re focusing on the wrong thing again. I don’t give a shit that you’re the Red Hood as long as all that of that business stays far, far away. You don’t think I remember how bad the neighbourhood was when I was a kid? You think I don’t notice how much better it is now? Jesus Christ, at least give me some credit.” This has to be a side effect of too many hits to the head. How is he not getting this? “Two, the part that I’m actually freaking out over, is the part where you knew all the pass codes to my specific unit. You know, the part where you invaded my privacy?” your voice rises on the last word, other diners turning to stare at you. You shrink back down into your seat at the attention. 

“I do give you credit,” Jason says slowly, eyes puppy wide. “You’re one of the cleverest people I know.” 

“Oh yeah? Then what was all that bullshit about ‘ooh I’m the Red Hood an I know where everyone in the Alley lives’ huh?” you retort, throwing his words back in his face. 

“I do!” he exclaims. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Okay so I don’t. But you’re my friend!” he hurries to add. “And you walk home from the bus stop late at night sometimes so I, you know, swing by sometimes just to make sure you got home safe.”

You stare at him in shock. “You know that’s both incredibly sweet and creepy, right?”

“I’m uh, I’m aware that I’m not the most well-adjusted,” he says sheepishly.  

You turn and wave down the waitress. “Hi, could we get the number eight breakfast combo for him, the blueberry brioche french toast for me, and a side order of the breakfast sausage and whole wheat toast for the table. Thanks.” You hand the menus back to her and smile sunnily at her shell shocked expression. She walks off and you turn back to Jason. “I’m not explaining personal privacy and boundaries to you on an empty stomach. And you’re paying.” 

It’s frighteningly easy to fall back into the regular rhythm of your friendship. Jason nods in all the right places and tries to make you laugh, butters your toast for you before sliding it on to your plate. He asks questions, good questions, so he’s clearly listening. All of it feels just like the time Before. Before you knew what he tasted like, the solid heat of him over you. Before you knew the full heavy stretch of him and the way his brows furrow when he comes. It almost feels likes before, except for his eyes.

Jason won’t look you in the eyes as you talk, will barely even glance at your face. Oh he’s attentive enough, doesn’t miss a word or an expansive gesture. But you notice these things, just like you’ve always noticed the little things with Jason. You had noticed that Jason had turned to you the most, out of all of your mutual friends, paid attention to you most often, yet you hadn’t noticed just how much his gaze had weighed on you until it’s gone. You miss it, that comforting weight. It also makes something clear to you. 

Your friendship will never be the same, but if you’re willing to accept that, accept that you’re not going to get what you want, you might have something close to your former intimacy. One day. So you smile and you laugh and accept the olive branch with gritted teeth. You promise all can be forgiven, forgotten, that this whole morning hasn’t cost you anything but your heart and dignity. Waving down the waitress again, you order a mimosa and add it to Jason’s tab. If he’s gonna break your heart at 11:00 in the morning, well, his wallet can take the hit. The bubbles carry you through the rest of brunch, through your goodbyes and see you laters. Jason walks away, hands in his pockets, shoulders noticeably lighter. 

You turn to walk home, breakfast churning in your stomach, and promptly throw it up in the gutter. Swiping the back of your hand over your mouth, you straighten up and stagger onwards. Fuck your weakness for Jason Todd. And to think you had been so close to just laying out your feelings on a plate and serving it up to him until he’d opened his big mouth. Friends. You scoff. Friends.

part 8

[cocobirde]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 | JOHN DORY

request. @Striped_Scheme on wattpad Requesting a JD x Reader where they've been dating since BroZone days but he kinda just left her with no goodbye and tries to reconcile and convince them to come help and save Floyd lol ("Technically we never really broke up"☝🤓) word count. 2.2k warnings. the word fuck lol. timeline. pre-trolls trilogy, pre-trolls band together. song. baby it's cold outside with some slight alterations (tell me he wouldnt. i DAREEE you.) a/n. honestly. idea was good, but my writing was not it so apologies but love u... thanks for reading lolz... probably rushed... (i do that alot in my writing how to not rush help me) no doubt ooc characters, characters will always be ooc.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"He's gone? What do you mean gone?"

Floyd could sense your distress. Panicked voice squeaking and your eyes darting all over the small backstage area for your boyfriend, on how exactly he could've left without you catching him.

You were in front of the stage, courtesy of being the partner of a band member, which was amazing but also granted limited viewing if they went too far back. From what you did see, the expressions were a solemn mixture of embarrassment, anger, disappointment.

You barely paid attention to the fans, who were also attempting to go in the same direction as you. Getting caught up in them took a whole lot of convincing the security.

But still, you were just at the door, and you heard him through it. Where had he gone? Was he okay? He fell from a very tall place in front of a crowd of fans, which was probably more damaging to him compared to actually getting injured—but not for you.

You watched him stumble backstage, stumble.

Baby Branch hid behind Floyd, wrapping the little leaf-sewn vest around his body, looking from his older brother to you, worried.

Where's the rest of the band?

"He just left. Everyone did. The band's..." Floyd paused, sighing, "BroZone's over."

You stood confused, your brows furrowing at his words. Over? How could they be over? This was just the start of their world tour. The band couldn't just break up over one failure.

"Over?"

They weren't that fragile, were they?

You loved all the brothers; they were like your own family, but your worries were set on only one of them for the time being.

"Did J at least say where he was going?"

Floyd nodded his head but remained unsure of what your thoughts would be on his answer. He glanced down at baby Branch, who was huddled around his leg.

"He was upset, really upset," he explained. "Said he was going to go hiking to the Neverglades... alone."

The change in your face told him everything, and he was quick to extend his hands in front of him. "But John Dory always says crazy things like that, and he never goes through with them. I'm sure he probably just went up to The Point."

That did seem like a logical explanation, and it was. Floyd may not have been the oldest, but he always had reason and logic behind his smart words.

"You're right." You were still stressed, no doubt, but that calmed your fears down. "Are you guys gonna be okay?"

Floyd spared another guilty glance at Branch and nodded, offering a soft smile and urging you to go look for your lover.

▃▃▃▃▃

The troll tree was huge, and even with its large size, it was hard to find any area that wasn't already occupied. Trolls made sure to take advantage of all their space; it was their home, and they made the most of it.

But even with every taken, there was one place that was free from everyone else.

A special spot reserved for you and your lover.

The Point.

Little knew about the spot, and those who did ensured it remained private.

Hidden in the leaves was a branch sticking out high enough to conceal the ugly Bergen town that surrounded them and gave them access to the beautiful night sky.

You and John Dory liked to go there a lot. Whether it be dates or to blow off steam (not like that for the weirdos), if he'd go anywhere after an accident like today, he'd go there.

He was very athletic and made a show of it whenever you'd go together, carrying you up. Bridal style or pulling you up with his strong locks—the point was, you had trouble going up on your own.

It took a while—a hard struggle—but it'd be worth it to see your boy up there and cheer him up.

They couldn't just break up; they just needed their leader to see that.

"John Dory?"

You called upon reaching the top, pushing the heavy leaves out of your way, careful not to slip off the branch.

"Baby, are you here?" Your voice was soft; you didn't want to alarm him. He could be really sensitive sometimes.

That thought brought a faint smile to your face. A smile fell upon the realization that he wasn't up here. If not up here, where could he have gone?

Home?

Knowing JD, you doubted it. If this was as serious as Floyd had put it, as serious as he looked, he wouldn't have just gone home.

And so your search ensued.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You spent days looking for him. Not a spot in the tree was untouched or unsearched by you. Somehow, the troll had just disappeared. No signs. No letters. No goodbyes.

He left you alone to suffer. Wondering where he'd gone, if he was okay, and if you guys were okay.

It was a coincidence, truly.

How on the day you reminisce when he left you without even a word explaining his sudden disappearance all those years ago was the same day you'd find John Dory on your doorstep.

"Come on, baby, could you let me in?"

"Baby?" you scoffed, remaining with your back slammed against the door in exasperation. "You lost the right to call me that a very long time ago."

One moment you were having a nice day, reading a nice book by your fireplace, enjoying the pitter-patter of rain outside, and the thunder struck, shaking you in the best way possible.

And the next...

"It's cooold..."

He whined, banging on the door desperately.

You couldn't bear to look at him; the second you already spent doing so when you opened the door was enough. He had a face that you'd never forget.

How'd he even find you?

"Go. Away." you growled.

"But it's cold outside."

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the door handle as he shook it. JD used little effort to push at the door; by the weight of it, he could tell you were against it. Not that it mattered.

He was strong; he could easily open it if he wanted to.

"You simply must go."

"Baby, it's cold outside."

If John Dory thinks a little singing is enough to serenade you, he is more of an idiot than you are already aware he is. You weren't a teenager helplessly in love with a silly musician from next door, you were grown.

Mature.

His tricks weren't going to work on you.

"The answer is no."

"But baby, it's cold outside."

He put more pressure, pushing, and you cursed for the lack of a lock on your door.

Trolls don't do locks! They don't have anything to worry about!

Except ex-boyfriend's trying to come in and ruin your life all over again.

"The welcome has been-."

"You should feel so lucky I dropped in."

You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping with your words, "So nice and warm."

He pushed the door, slipping a leg in to stop it from shutting completely, peeking a crack. You groaned and peered through it at him.

Sharp glares were directed at him, and gosh, if only looks could kill, he would've dropped dead right now.

He looked stupid.

Stupid puppy eyes with his stupid goggles and a stupid pout on his stupid face. He was soaked from head to toe, the rain falling on him more and more every second he stood outside.

My, did he look pathetic?

BANG!

He shrieked, desperation on his face and voice, jumping at the loud crash of thunder, lighting up the dark sky.

He turned back to you, singing rapidly.

"Look out the window at that storm!"

"Ugh, okay! Come in!"

His face lit up, the door swinging open, and he rushed in, soaking your carpet with rain as you shut the door behind him, slamming it hard enough that the whole house shook with force.

He glanced at you in surprise, getting a glare in return.

JD opened his mouth to speak, obviously nothing nice with the smug look on his face, and you were quick to shut him down.

"Don't."

He clamped his mouth shut, smirking and holding his hands up in defense. "I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Stay."

You urged with a pointed finger, walking off to your bathroom in search of a towel.

"Yes, your majesty."

You hated him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't cruel. He might've been, but you weren't. Any troll would do the same as you; offer him some refuge from the storm outside.

Returning with a towel, you didn't bother passing it to him, tossing it and smacking him right in the face.

Maybe you were a little cruel.

He reacted with a huff, taking it and wrapping it around himself, not bothering to dry himself like ordered, but more like a shelter from the cold.

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend after all these years?"

John Dory tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he took a single step in your direction.

"Boyfriend?" you scoffed.

"I mean, technically, we never broke up."

Oh, you wanted to punch his little ugly face so bad.

"You disappearing without saying anything was us "technically" breaking up." You did air quotations with another roll of your eyes, speaking before he did, exasperated.

"Why are you even here, John Dory?"

He stayed silent for a few moments, pondering what exactly to say. What could he say? He knew it was stupid of him to even come in the first place. He knew you'd be angry, upset, but not like this.

You didn't look the slightest bit happy to see him.

His smugness dropped along with his shoulders, and he took a breath.

"I need your help."

He looked dead serious. So serious.

You shook your head, your lips curling up in disbelief. "You need my help. Right." your arms crossed, "You leave, disappear off to who knows where, say nothing, suddenly come back after 20 years, and you decide you want my help?"

A short and dry laugh left you.

John Dory really was unbelievable.

"I knew you wouldn't want to see me..."

"I don't want to see you." You cut him off with a grimace, ready to say more-

He had that same desperate look.

Honestly, it brought you back. It brought you back to all those years ago, when both of you were young.

John Dory was always a terrible boyfriend, cocky and arrogant, bossy, too busy with BroZone to give you the time you needed. It hurt you. You loved him so much, and he didn't seem to always reciprocate those feelings. And each time you guys would argue and break up, he would be the first to return with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Leave me alone, John. You can't just come back and expect me to accept you. That's not how life works! If you wanna be in a relationship, you have to commit-..."

"Can you please just listen?"

He stared at you with a small pout, furrowed brows, eyes pleading into yours for you to give him a second chance. His stupid, loving eyes knew exactly how you worked. How exactly to work you.

The only difference right now was that he came empty-handed.

Nevertheless, it effectively shut you up.

"I fucked up all those years ago, I know. I fucked up leaving you. That's the biggest mistake I've ever made. I should've said goodbye, apologized, invited you to come with me- I should've done something!" He ranted, "But I didn't. And I just left..."

John Dory expected you to say something. One of your snarky remarks and cut him off, tell him he's wrong or right, and degrade him on what a terrible person he is because he is well aware of it.

But he's trying.

"Baby, you of all trolls know how terrible I am at apologies," he sighed.

And you didn't bother to correct him on your name; looking at him up and down, eyes still narrowed. You were still angry, you'd probably be angry for a very long time, but for the moment... you'd put it aside.

"What do you need help with?"

His face lit up, beaming at you at your acceptance, not denying him completely, not shunning the troll out, and kicking him back into the rain. You were hearing him out.

You noticed the look and huffed, "Just because I'm asking does not mean I'm going to say yes."

"Floyd's been kidnapped."

Your expression softened, and your mouth fell open in a quiet gasp.

"Kidnapped?"

"I got a letter from him saying he got kidnapped by popstars Velvet and Veneer." He went on and explained the story about how he went to see him and help him escape, only to fail: "-The only way to free him is by singing the perfect family harmony."

You loved Floyd to this day. It'd been years since you'd last talked to him, heard of him at all, but the same amount of affection you felt for the troll remained.

"I need to get the band back together. And... I really can't do it on my own. I'm not sure if they want to see me any more than you did-."

You cut him off a lot.

"I'll help," he grinned. "But not for you. For Floyd. Don't think I've forgiven you yet."

"Yet?"

"Shut up."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[marauder-misprint]

I LOVED the ”You were important” fic that you wrote and I know that that it was only published a couple hours ago but I NEED to know if there is going to be a part 2

And if there isn’t then I’m begging you for one were reader maybe goes out with Sirius and his friends for the first time or something. Please I’m desperate 😭😩❤️

I can practically guarantee you this isn't as good as 'You Were Important' but it is what it is! and honestly, I think everyone but Sirius is nervous/unsure about the Hogsmeade visit.

Also, receiving this request literally a few hours after posting made my day ♥︎

Hogsmeade

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2.7k words

cw: one use of y/n, fluff, swearing 

To say that Sirius’ friends were hesitant about you was the understatement of the century. They knew you had a big part in helping Sirius slowly reconnect with Regulus and they knew you were childhood friends. But to be dating? That was a step beyond their comprehension.

“So she yells at you, you have some miraculous conversation and now you’re dating?” Peter asked incredulously. “I’m sorry, mate. I don’t see it.”

“You went from not speaking for years to dating pretty quickly,” James added. 

“There’s a lot about her that you don’t know,” Sirius said.

“When you apologized to her last term, did you actually beg?” Remus mused, already knowing the answer but trying to help Peter and James along. 

“Yes.”

James choked on his pumpkin juice. “You begged? Like on your knees, begging?”

“In the library. You can ask Reg if you don’t believe me. He walked in on it.”

“How come none of us got to witness that?” James asked with a pout. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Remus said.

“Because you didn’t need to be there. It’s hard enough putting my dignity on the line, I didn’t need you lot witnessing it.”

“Okay so if you were on your knees for her,” Peter paused to give the group a suggestive look, “then maybe it’s more believable that she likes your sorry arse.”

“I don’t know why I need to convince you that we’re actually dating… But I did write to her all of break.”

“I thought you were writing Regulus?” James asked.

“Is there a limit on how many people I can write? I wrote to them both.”

“What’s so special about her anyways?” Peter asks, stabbing his fork into the fruit on his plate. “Besides the insane ability of forgiveness.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “At the risk of being called a sap, I’ll keep it brief. She’s perfect. Perfectly flawed. Knows how to handle the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. What else do I need?” 

“Handling you and your brother is certainly a special quality,” Remus snorted.

“So was there like something hot about her when she exploded last term?” James asked. “Because I think we were all a little scared of a random ass Slytherin being furious at you.”

“Oh shut it.”

“And we are taking that as a yes,” Peter confirmed with a nod. 

“I’ll give you something you can take, Wormtail,” Sirius warned. 

“Calm down, Pads,” Remus said. “Let us get used to Y/N and the effects she has on you. It’s new to us. Since you kept us in the dark ‘bout her for six years.”

“That number is going to be the death of me…”

Your friends, minus Regulus, were just as confused.

“You know, when we asked if there was something going on between you and Black, we meant Regulus,” Dorcas said. 

“And the only thing going on between me and Reg is friendship.”

“But you and Sirius? You’re serious?” Pandora asked.

“Yes, Dory, I’m dating Sirius.” 

“But why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You’ve never once mentioned liking him. Before last term, you never mentioned him as anything other than Reg’s brother.” 

“Because he said we weren’t friends. Keep up. Pretty sure I told you this.”

“You did. Six years radio silence to dating is a jump, sweetheart.”

“He’s taken big steps since we reconnected.”

“Maybe so. I’m just saying, you are the queen of forgiveness.”

“He knows he’s walking a thin line,” Regulus said, deciding to join the conversation.

“You! You’re okay with this?”

“I encouraged they get close again,” he said. “Did they get closer than I intended? Maybe. But once you get over the initial shock, it makes sense.”

“How so?”

He looked from Dorcas to you and back again. “They practically grew up together. And then when he fucked up, she went and befriended me. There’s something about being a Black that attracts her.”

“It’s the trauma,” you said with a teasing lilt in your voice.

“If that was the case, you’d be dating me.”

“I’m afraid you’ve solidified your place as absolute bestie for the restie a while ago.”

Regulus stared at you for what felt like an entire minute.

“Whatever the fuck that means…”

---

Sirius approaches you after class, as he usually did. You took your time putting your things into your bag while he would shove everything into his own as fast as he could. 

“You doing anything Saturday?” he asks, resting his hip against your desk. 

“Sleep in? Maybe Hogsmeade with the girls if they wait up for me.”

“What if you ditch the girls and come with us?”

“Us? As in the Marauders?”

He nods. 

“Am I ready for a proper introduction to them?”

After you throw your bag over your shoulder, Sirius places his arm around your waist and guides you to the door. 

“I think so. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“I guess… Do they know you’re inviting me?”

“No.”

“What will they think? I haven’t talked to any of them since I yelled at you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, love. I’ve talked to them about you. Plus, once they get to know you, they’ll love you. I know I do.”

You snort. “Yeah? You love me?”

He looks down at you with a crooked smile. Neither of you had the exact words “I love you” but you hadn’t been dating all that long. It still hung in the air between you though. If you had to talk about it with anyone, you would say when you know, you know. Having Sirius back in your life was like being able to breathe again after having your head held underwater. 

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius places a kiss on your cheek. It makes you giggle. He knew it would. He knows he loves you. It hit him as hard as it had hit him that he missed you during those six years. You had a way of making him feel seen that even having the eyes of the entire Hogwarts castle couldn’t raise a candle to. You saw him and he loved you for it. 

“So, Hogsmeade? Yes, no, you’d rather snog me in the Gryffindor Common Room…” His voice trails off as he looks down at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease.

“You’ll come to Hogsmeade, then? Yeah?”

You sigh. You know it’s inevitable. You have to meet and hang out with his friends at some point. You couldn’t avoid them forever, as appealing as that sounds, if you want this to work with Sirius. 

“Yes, I’ll do Hogsmeade. But you’re paying for my butterbeers.”

He laughs. “As if I wouldn’t do that anyways.”

---

You get up far too early for your liking on Saturday. Sirius insists that you will be spending all day with the boys in Hogsmeade and he’s fairly certain that by the end of the night, you will be telling him you wished the day had lasted longer. You’re not as sure of that as he is, but you’re willing to humor him. It would be good to get to know his friends, at least a little bit. 

You feel awkward as you head to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall rather than Slytherin. At least you didn’t have to deal with teasing from Pandora and Dorcas this morning; they were still tucked into bed, where you’d much rather be. Still, you feel eyes on you. 

“Good morning, lovely!” Sirius chirps as soon as he spots you within earshot. 

You give him a nervous smile. The full of Marauder nonsense was weighing on any optimism you might’ve had. You take the spot next to Sirius, obviously saved for you. The other boys are quiet, although you don’t blame them. 

“Morning everyone,” you say. 

They mumble responses. Remus looks half asleep as he sips his morning tea, Peter is zoned out as he stares at his plate, and James is shoveling eggs into his mouth. You assume he would’ve given you a better response if his mouth hadn’t been full. 

“Whose idea was it to go so early?” Remus mumbles, putting his cup down and giving you a polite smile.

You look from boy to boy before laying eyes on Sirius.

“You. You did this,” you say accusingly, pointing your finger at him.

“Maybe.”

You forcefully rest your forehead on his shoulder with a groan. 

“I thought you weren’t a morning person.”

“He’s not,” Remus answers for him with a knowing look in his eyes that you don’t see. 

“Sorry that I’m excited,” Sirius says. “Just the first time all my favorite people are going to be together.”

“Second,” Peter says, barely loud enough to be heard. 

“Second?” Sirius repeats. 

“He’s, uh, counting the yelling, I think,” James says after swallowing. “You know, last term.”

You lift your head from Sirius’ shoulder and you know your face is red. The yelling. 

“I promise I don’t yell all the time,” you say softly. 

They all laugh in one way or another. Sirius has his full body laugh while Remus has more of a chuckle. You swear you see Peter clench his jaw as James barks out a short laugh. You’re certain this is going to be a long, painfully awkward and embarrassing day. Sirius starts putting food on the plate in front of you and nudges the cup closer to you.

“Eat up.”

“I can make my own plate,” you tell him firmly.

“But you weren’t.”

You roll your eyes but start to eat the food he’s grabbed for you. The boys are mostly quiet while you eat. Sirius forces some conversation. He’s adamant that something will spark. He just needs someone to bite, someone to start talking besides him, and then conversation will flow more easily. It had to. 

It does, finally, as you leave the Great Hall and begin the short trek to Hogsmeade. The boys discuss everywhere they need to go today. 

“You’re not going to make us get lunch at Puddifoot’s or anything, right?” Peter asks tentatively, as if already hating your answer.

You laugh loudly, making the boys in front of you look over their shoulders.

“Godric, no!” Their faces relax. “Not every girl loves lace and all that frill.”

“Oh, I had just assumed…” Peter’s voice trails off. 

“Doesn’t everyone know the saying?” you ask.

“What saying?” James asks.

“When you assume, you make ass of you and me.”

You walk up and throw an arm around Peter. 

You hiss in his ear, “Don’t go making an ass of me. I don’t care what you make of yourself.”

Peter blushes furiously as you remove your arm and laugh. 

“I fully assumed we be spending time in Honeydukes and Zonko’s and maybe Pippin’s or something before finishing the day at the Broomsticks. Is that not normal?” you ask, walking backwards at the front of the group. 

Sirius was beaming at you, clearly enjoying how suddenly comfortable you became. Apparently you just needed someone to get the wrong read on you. Then you point at James.

“Spintwitches? Regulus was talking about this new broom-”

“Polish? They got in the new broom polish?” 

You nod and James picks up his pace, easily passing you so you turn around to walk normally.

“Well, come on, you lot!” he calls. “I need some before they run out!”

“I highly doubt that they are going to run out, Prongs!” Sirius yells at him as he resumes his spot at your side. “Now is this so bad,” he whispers to you.

You roll your eyes but give him a wide smile. Maybe his friends weren’t so bad. They just had to see you as something other than a pathetic girl or the angry girl who nearly screamed at Sirius about his brother. 

You were right about their plans for the day, though. After Spintwitches, the group heads to Honeydukes to restock on sweets that you would have to carry around all day. Next was Zonko’s. The boys flitted around the shot like hummingbirds, never looking at a stand for too long but practically guaranteed to return. When the shopkeeper told them their total, you choked on the licorice wand you were snacking on. The boys give you a strange look while Sirius hits your back and makes sure you’re okay.

“Dear Merlin, do you always spend that much in there?” you ask as you exit the store and head to the main square. 

“Yes?” James answers. “Is it a lot?”

You snort a laugh.

“Prongs, you know it is. There’s a reason you and Padfoot pick up the bill every time,” Remus says with his own laugh. 

“Oh! If you boys don’t mind, can we stop at the quill shop?” you ask.

“Quill shop and then Three Broomsticks? Sounds good to me,” Sirius says, answering for the whole group.

The rest of the boys wait outside while Sirius follows you into the shop. He doesn’t say anything as you browse. He follows you like a lovesick puppy, which is what the boys are calling him in their conversation outside the shop. Not that he would’ve minded it anyways. Sirius was happy. He had it all in that moment: a girl who loved him, friends who would die for him, and a family in the Potters. He couldn’t think of anything else he needed in this moment. 

After you made your purchase of a new quill and inkwell, you and the boys made your way to the Three Broomsticks. As expected, it’s packed, but that doesn’t stop you from being able to find a table big enough to fit all of you. You feel at ease as you drink butterbeers with the boys and snack on the crisps James ordered for the table. There are jokes you don’t quite understand and snide comments you don’t quite agree with, but overall, it’s good. You know you’re new to the group and it will be easier the longer you’re around. It helps that Sirius is next to you, giving you the occasional touch and kiss. And the occasional knowing look when the boys say something that would elicit a remark from you but you’re not in the place to say anything yet. 

You wave to your friends when they make their way into the pub. They gather at a table at the other end of the room.

“You can go say hi, you know,” Remus says, noticing who you’re waving to. “We’re not holding you hostage.”

“You’re not, but they might,” you say as you make eye contact with Barty and he makes kissy faces at you. “They can get my recap of my day later.”

“Oooh, what are you going to tell them about us?” Peter asks, tossing a crisp at James who catches it in his mouth.

“You spend way too much at Zonko’s, but you weren’t as bad as I was expected.”

“Wait! Wait, wait,” James says, holding up his hands to pause the conversation. “What do you mean too much at Zonko’s?”

“How bad were you expecting?” Remus asks before you can answer. 

“Potter, you know damn well what I mean. I can excuse the Honeydukes spending because, well, I’m just as bad. But Salazar, so many galleons wasted! And for what? A prank?”

“A prank that will bring joy for weeks,” Sirius says, giving you a playful nudge.

You roll your eyes.

“How bad were you expecting today to go?” Remus asks again. 

“Horrendously.”

Sirius gasps and leans away from you.

“Wait, really?”

You nod.

“We’re not… that bad, are we?” James asks. 

“Spending a full day with people I’ve barely interacted with in the six years we’ve been classmates? With our main interaction being… the yelling?” you ask incredulously.

Your point is made.

“To be honest, we… I was nervous ‘bout this too,” Peter says. “You’re scary when you’re pissed.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Remus asks with a smirk; he knows why it’s good.

“Means you are less likely to cross me.”

“And there’s the Slytherin,” James laughs before throwing back his butterbeer.

“What, being my girlfriend doesn’t make them less likely to cross you?” Sirius asks.

“While I’m sure that is reason,” you start, “I’d rather be scary. There’s more people to keep in line than your boys.”

“Like your boys,” Remus says. He’s looking at Evan and Barty.

“Oh, they are easy to keep in line,” you muse. “They are more reward-based. Threats don’t work on them.”

“Oh?” 

“Oh,” you say, not elaborating. 

“So, another round, yeah?” Sirius asks, waving down Rosmerta. 

[createdbytragedy]

SO, THERE'S THIS GIRL..........

A/N: Please check over this one too. It's kind of like the previous but can be read on its own too.

Pairing: Lee Minho x reader

Genre: Just fluff

Synopsis: Minho calls his mother to tell her about his new girlfriend

"Hello, Minho~ its been so long, my boy~~" Minho's mom sang through the phone, making him smile.

"I know, mom, how are you? how's dad?" he asked, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable.

"I'm fine and your dad's good too. He's feeding the cats for you. They have been missing you a lot!" His mother chirped, "You should come visit us soon."

Minho chuckled at his mom's enthusiasm. She was always so eager to meet him and actually did miss his parents and cats.

"I wish I could but the schedule 'is really tight these days. I miss Soonie, Doongie and Dori too. "He could feel his mother smile from the other side and it warmed his heart.

"It's okay. We're taking care of it for you," his mother said then paused ," did you want to tell me something?"

Minho felt his heart skip a beat. His mother had figured him out right away and he did not actually know how to start.

"Ahh......," she gasped, followed by laughter," is there someone in my son's life? Come on, tell me, who's the lucky girl, Minho?"

His mom's eagerness made him chuckle and his mind wanders back to you.

You were the girl in his life. Though he didn't know if that made you lucky or him. He smiled, looking out the window through his bed. The early morning rays had entered his bedroom and he had received a phone call from you early in the morning, wishing him a good day and telling him aboust your plans for the day as you got ready for work. He couldn't think of a better way to spend the morning and he can't help thinking what it would be like to wake up next to you.

Your little morning rant made his heart all warm and tingy and he knew he had to tell someone. Plus, it's been a while since he talked to his parents. So, here he was, hearing his mother's excited rant.

A sigh left his lips along with a smile. His cheeks flushed, getting a bit shy. His mother was always so supportive and even eager to hear him talk about a girl. She would instantly drop everything she was doing as soon as she heard a girl's name pop out of his mouth. Which wasn't very usual.

She would listen to him, give him advice and even tease him a bit until Minho got all red and refused to talk to her for 3 days. They had the kind of relationship everyone wished for and he will be forever thankful for having such a great mother like her.

"So..... There's this girl...." He trailed off, mind going back to you and the way you smile.

God, he was so in love with you.

He could almost see his mother smile through the phone, " What's her name?"

"(y/n). " He replied," And she has this eyes and this smile and her hair. I don't know what to say. She's just so sweet. And she also loves cats. "

"I feel like someone's in love here." His mother teased. If Minho was any younger and didn't know better, he would have blushed and denied. But this time, even he knew his mother was right.

He cleared his throat ," We started dating.... A month ago, actually."

"LEE MINHO!!!" Minho had to drag away the phone from his ear as his mother screeched ," why didn't you tell me about this (y/n) sooner? We're you trying to keep this a secret till you get her pregnant?! Are you already planning a wedding?! "

"Mom!" Minho scolds, his cheeks flushed at the thought and he heard his mother laugh.

"I was just joking, Min. But, tell me about her more.. when are you gonna introduce her to me?! Will she like me? "

"Relax, mom. She will like you. And I'm sure you'll like her too. "

"Of course! I already do," she beamed ," If she has managed to capture your heart, she sure is a kind and special woman. "

"Indeed, she is. " Minho agreed.

"Is she pretty? "

"Pretty? ," Minho scoffed," She's beautiful. In more than just one way. She's like you. Her cooking reminds me of you too. "

"Minho."

"Hm?"

"Don't let her go. For all the years I've known you, I have never heard you talk like that about a girl. Whoever she is, she is special. She makes you feel special. And most importantly, she loves you. Never let go of someone you love. Never give up on her. But if she chose to, let her go. Because love is never harsh and captive. Love is free. Love is for all. And I'm glad you found someone who made you understand love. "

A comfortable silence followed until Minho decided to break it, "I know, mom. I'd choose her happiness over mine any day. "

"Anyways, I have to go to practice. Stray kids code is airing tonight. Watch it. "

"I never miss a chance to see my handsome son. I'm so proud of you ."

"Okay then, I have to go. "

"Take care, Minho. And I hope I'll be receiving a wedding invitation soon. "

"Mom!"

With a chuckle, the line went blank. Minho smiled to himself, throwing the phone to the side.

He can't wait to marry you.