#i drew this very late last night and i don't really like it

[vanillaflowerstuff]

i read the Book again. love the book

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Latency Lingering {F.W}

Chapter II - Cold Comfort

Synopsis: after your run-in with Molly earlier in the afternoon, things come to a head when the very man you'd hoped to never see again shows up at your front door, breathless and demanding answers. And thus, your once so peaceful life comes to a sharp and grinding halt, rather likely for good.

When you looked back on it, your final happy evening with Fred was absolutely chock full of the kind of irony that could make a grown man weep.

It was something you'd scarcely considered prior to the birth of your children, the stinging pain of it all dulled by the persistent dread brought on by the promise of an unsupported birth and the overhanging threat of your ex finding out about the secrets you were keeping from him.

But, of course, that dread hadn't lasted forever, and mere weeks after the birth of your son and daughter you had found yourself suddenly consumed by the near hilarity of the tragedy that had befallen your love life, and the ever present sense of irony that hovered over it like a cloud.

After all, it had been on your last joyful evening with your former boyfriend that the then seemingly far off topic of pregnancy had come up, the weight of it manageable for what you had not then known would be the final time.

It had been a warm spring night, and although the weather had been pleasant enough as of late and the promise of your worst school year yet coming to a close never ceased to bring a sigh of relief to your lips, you couldn't help but feel completely miserable.

For weeks at that point, you had been dealing with utterly debilitating nausea (and the less than welcome side effects associated with it) all throughout your days, and though your love always did his best to support you, you could sense his hesitance and worry over your health as the date planned for he and his brother's conjoined escape drew nearer.

Thus, when you'd found yourself in the gryffindor common room pulled tight against his chest, you'd simply melted into him like a scoop of ice cream dropped upon sticky asphalt.

It always made you feel at least a little better, you'd found, to have him near, and you could tell that he was put at ease whenever he felt your familiar weight against him, a subtle reminder that you were alright even in spite of the illness that plagued you.

He would never admit it, and for you, he didn't have to, but Fred Weasley was a worrier, and a skilled one at that.

So, in order to stave off that worry in favor of spending his second to final evening with you at Hogwarts in better spirits than he otherwise might, he'd begun rattling off utterly ridiculous theories regarding the cause of your long term illness, the likes of which ranged from not having received enough kisses as of late, to bearing witness to Draco Malfoy's face each day.

Though, it was your darling's final theory that had truly managed to capture your attention.

"Ugh, don't even joke about that, Fred. It isn't nearly as funny as you think it is."

You'd huffed out with a light groan of semi-exaggerated despair, unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as your then boyfriend had laughed in response, tossing a lithe arm, strengthened in part by his history with quidditch, no doubt, across your shoulders.

"Who’s joking?"

He'd inquired with a feigned sincerity, his hand raising up to splay across his chest as if appalled.

"This is a matter of utmost seriousness, I'm afraid."

At that, you'd scoffed.

Fred Weasley, engage with a matter of "utmost seriousness"? Unlikely.

"It’d most certainly better not be. I am far from ready to have your child, Weasley."

Your boyfriend had hummed in response, the look of gleeful mischief in his eyes hard to miss.

You braced yourself for whatever ridiculous thing he was about to say.

"Really?"

He'd questioned as if truly baffled by your (sensible) admission.

"Well, you certainly could have fooled me the way that you- ack!"

Suddenly realizing exactly where he was going with that statement, you’d all but lunged to cover up his mouth before he could finish, not too keen on the idea of random passerbys hearing of your (admittedly rather active) sex life.

Still, Fred had dodged your "attack" quite easily, grinning wide as you'd fixed him with your most intimidating glare,

"I'm being serious, you git. You'd have to be mad to find something so disastrous amusing enough to joke about."

To that, Fred had simply shrugged, pulling you ever closer with the arm he'd kept wrapped around your now slightly tensed shoulders.

"I think we may just have different interpretations of what is disastrous, my dear."

He had teased, breaths tickling the baby hairs that grew atop your head,

"I have it all planned out, you know."

You'd hummed at that, eyes twinkling with curiosity as you turned your head to better see the man sitting beside you.

"Oh?" You'd asked, "Do tell."

Fred had chuckled, leaning his cheek against the top of your head as he spoke.

"First, we get the bloody hell out of here."

He'd teased, knowing full well just how much closer his impending absence was in comparison to your own.

"And then, as we'll doubtless be wealthy and well adjusted men by the time you graduate in a few weeks time, you'll move in with George and I, doing whatever job you please until I either convince you to work at our wildly successful shop, or you really do fall pregnant. Whichever comes first."

You'd burst out laughing and smacked your boyfriend's shoulder at that comment, noting with joy the way that he shook with his own laughter against you.

"A child before marriage, Mr. Weasley?" You'd teased once your amusement had been quelled enough to allow for speech, "I fear your mother would just about flay you for such a thing.”

The ginger had hummed in subtle confirmation at that, shrugging slightly as he replied,

"Perhaps, but I reckon she'd be utterly besotted with you for it, so you've not much to lose there besides your future husband."

"Future husband and the father of my child in this hypothetical scenario, I'll remind you." You'd teased, "I'd be rather cross with you if you fell to your mother and left me to raise Fred Jr. all by my lonesome."

Your love had grinned wide at that, raising a brow as he considered your words further,

"You think you'd give me a son first then?" He'd asked teasingly, "Because I have a feeling our first will be a girl."

You'd outright laughed again at that admission, baffled and highly amused by your boyfriend's utter certainty in regards to your future.

"Ah, my apologies. Fredette then."

The man sitting beside you scowled as if you'd said the most absurd thing he'd heard in weeks.

"I think not. Frederica perhaps."

To that, you'd groaned, shaking your head back and forth in utter exasperation.

"Absolutely not. If you'd have our daughter named after you then I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more creative than that."

"Oh, not to worry, love."

Fred had quipped back immediately,

"As I said before, I've got it all planned out."

You opened your mouth to question the man further, but already knowing what you were going to ask, your love had spoken up before you could,

"Winnie for a girl, and Augustine for a boy."

You'd all but gawked at that, shocked by the sincerity of the man's tone as you pulled away to see him already smiling down at you.

"Why Winnie?"

You'd asked gently, watching as the gryffindor sitting beside you shrugged his shoulders,

"It's a rather cute name, isn't it? I think it would fit an adorable little ginger girl splendidly. I can already hear you calling it out across our home, chasing her down to rub sunscreen on those doubtlessly freckled cheeks of hers as she fights tooth and nail for her right to roast in the afternoon sun."

Laughing, you nodded semi-exasperatedly at the rather vivid scene presented to you,

"If she's yours I'm sure I'll be doing that and many similar tasks quite often."

You'd paused for a moment to think further before speaking up again,

"And Augustine?"

Fred smiled softly,

"I've always rather liked the name, but have never heard it used much." He began before continuing almost hesitantly, "And it certainly helps that I fell for you in the month of August, as well."

Your eyes had widened slightly at that, brow raising alongside them as you'd urged Fred to elaborate.

"August?" You'd asked, "We didn't even have school in August, Freddie."

The man sitting beside you nodded in confirmation to your words.

"I know. It was summer, I was free of schoolwork and able to terrorize Ronald, Percy, and little Ginny as much as I well pleased, but even so, the only thing I could think about was you. Can you imagine, fourteen year old me desperate to get back to Hogwarts all because I wanted to see a girl? It was not an easy realization to come to terms with, I'm afraid."

You'd scoffed at that, hand reaching over to squeeze his own where it draped across your shoulder in spite of your seemingly nonplussed reaction as you considered the proposed names further.

"Winnie and Augustine." You had murmured aloud, tasting the two names together on your tongue for the very first time. "I quite like those."

And just as he'd begun to fiddle with the promise ring adorning the hand that rested gently atop his own, your love hummed softly in confirmation.

"I knew you would."

And then, smiling as you'd closed your eyes contentedly and leaned against him, you couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh.

In spite of all the stress you'd endured as of late with Umbridge's rule, your sudden and unexplained bouts of illness, and Fred and George's impending absence, the future, it seemed, was bright.

Until, that is, the very next day, when you'd learned alone in the girls bathroom that some aspects of it would be coming far sooner than you ever could have planned for or even imagined.

That night, just over twenty-four hours after your hopeful conversation, you had broken things off with Fred Weasley, and you hadn't seen him since.

That is, of course, until today.

Because even in spite of your insistence that she not tell him anything earlier that afternoon when she'd caught you on your way out of that accursed doctor's office, it seemed that Molly Weasley had paid your pleas little mind, for it was only a few hours after you'd arrived home that Fred had turned up at your front door.

And truthfully, you knew that it was partially your own fault that he had found you with such ease.

After all, you still lived in that same flat your aunt had rented out to you during your summers away from Hogwarts, the one she used to supplement her income as she persisted with her freelance photography abroad.

Your mother, her sister, hadn't spoken to her (at least to your knowledge), since she'd refused to kick you out of it after your graduation, but the woman in question had never seemed to mind.

In truth, you hadn't yet found it within yourself to miss your children's maternal grandmother much either.

But still, even in spite of your aunt's kindness, you couldn't help but wish you'd had the forethought to move elsewhere as you stared helplessly at the man standing on the other side of your door.

He looked positively frazzled, and utterly determined.

"Fred I-"

"Tell me that she's mistaken."

The young wizard half demanded, half plead, his hand coming to rest upon the inner lip of the door as if afraid you might close it on him at any moment.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t considered it.

You swallowed thickly at his words, opening your mouth in search of a reply only to have him cut you off once more before you could even begin.

"Or better yet, tell me that she's lying and that this is all some utterly ridiculous ploy to get me to see you again after all these years. Tell me anything Y/n, just not that she's right."

Unsure of what to say, you cast your gaze downward toward the floor and away from Fred's prying eyes, and immediately he drew in a sharp breath and cursed above you, bringing his unoccupied hand to rub across his face.

The silence that descended upon the two of you afterward was thick and cloying, the absence of all sound so harsh that it nearly made you shudder, an urge you only held back because you refused to come across as weak to the man standing before you.

Which, as things went, happened to be rather difficult considering how absolutely terrified you felt.

"Truly?"

He breathed out after several long seconds of nothing,

"All this time, and you were just never going to tell me?"

Slowly, and with a shameful certainty, you nodded at that, hands clasping in front of you as your fingers worried away at the spot on your finger where your promise ring had one sat.

Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"Fred, I..."

You trailed off for a few moments, desperately seeking out the right words, only to give up with a sigh when you realized they would likely never come.

There were no "right words" for you to say in this situation. There was only the truth, as ugly as it may have been.

"I didn't know what else to do."

At that, a short burst of harsh and humorless laughter that was jarringly similar to that which he'd let out on your final night together in the astronomy tower pushed passed your ex's lips, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch back from it, a movement which he either didn't notice, or chose to ignore entirely.

"You didn't know what else to do besides dump me with no real explanation and hide my own children from me for nearly three years of their lives?"

He scoffed, looking down at you as if in utter disbelief,

"Does that seem like the most rational decision to you, Y/n?"

In response to his mocking tone and blatant disregard for your reasoning, you looked up to meet your former lover's eyes once more, glaring daggers into them as a hand came to rest upon your hip.

"Was it a rational decision for you to set off fireworks in a school, Fred? Or for you to drop out mere months before graduation?"

You snapped, taking a step closer to the man as you pointed an accusatory finger to his chest, the space between you decreased enough now that you could smell the familiar cologne he'd always worn, the very same one you'd described while smelling amortentia all those years ago in Snape's classroom.

Fred glared right back at you after a moment of what appeared to be surprise at your sudden displeasure, but before he could even think to open his mouth again, you continued.

"How about when you decided to fight in a war that from what I heard, very nearly killed you, huh? And let's not forget to mention this very moment here, where you've turned up to my aunt’s flat in search of your ex girlfriend while looking half a mad man instead of thinking to send an owl first to at least make sure that I even still live here. How rational does that seem, Fred?!"

Your voice was raised now, having been increasing in volume since you'd begun the second half of your rant, and while he had never been one for shouting, it seemed that Fred Weasley was far too concerned with not being outdone to care today.

"You're saying I should have sent an Owl?!" He asked incredulously, the laughter that left him just as barren of humor as the bout before it.

"Oh that's rich coming from you, love, because you could stand to learn a thing or two about sending important owls, it would seem!"

You scoffed, arms crossing atop your chest as you opened your mouth to reply once more, a no doubt biting remark already primed and ready to go at your lips.

As unfair as it was, after all, there was some long buried part of you that felt angry at the man standing before you.

Because even if it was entirely your own choice, you had endured nearly nine long months of pregnancy completely alone, before laboring just under two weeks early all by yourself, which of course had preceded you then raising both of your children all by your lonesome, exhausted and afraid of whatever it was that would come next, because as you'd soon discovered alongside the existence of your children, there was always something else looming on the horizon.

And it just wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair how desperately you yearned for the touch of a man now supposedly unknown to you as you laid in bed each night,

It wasn't fair how curiously your little ones asked about other children's fathers,

It wasn't fair how obviously and agonizingly they took after their dad,

It wasn't fair how you saw him briefly each time you looked into their beautiful little eyes or brushed your fingers through their soft ginger hair,

None of it was fair, not in the slightest.

But just as you were about to open your mouth and express these long buried and ignored feelings of yours, a small and painfully poorly timed voice called out from behind you.

And when you shifted your gaze to see your ex's face more clearly, all you saw expressed upon it was a deep and sorrowful dread as he stared just past you at the once empty door frame, which you hoped against all hope and sense was still bereft of life.

Of course though, you could already tell from Fred's face alone that this was not the case.

"Mummy?"

The young voice that you immediately identified as that of your son questioned curiously from behind you, and finally you swallowed your hopes and fears and turned around to face the music for what felt like the one millionth time in that day alone.

And of course, standing there, backlit by the slightly yellow glow of the bulbs from the kitchen that sat just inside, was your boy, your darling Augustine, looking the very picture of the man that stood just a few feet away from him.

His hair was an absolute mess from his clearly restless sleep, and he was rubbing at his eyes in a manner that made it nearly impossible to make out their color, but even so that inarguable likeness was there.

He looked every bit the quintessential Weasley child, and it made your heart flutter in your chest when you noticed the way that your former love seemed to take this in, as if it were a knife to the gut.

Clearing your throat to rid it of the sudden thickness that you found there, you were quick to reply.

"Yes, love?"

You murmured softly, reaching out gently to help guide the young boy to you when he began to fumble all but blindly in your direction, eyes still blurred by sleep.

"Can sissy and me sleep with you? We've had another bad dream."

At that, you frowned immediately, maternal instincts quick to take over in spite of your stressful situation.

For nearly a year now your twins had suffered from nightmares, often on the same nights, though thankfully from what they had shared with you, they at least seemed to be about differing things.

That said, it did cause you rather significant grief as a parent to see your children suffering so with something you could not even hope to control or change.

It made you feel weak, helpless, and above all else, afraid of your own potential errors or failures in raising your little one's to have something like this plague them for so very long.

Several nights a week you would awaken to the sounds of pattering feet on hardwood, petrified voices crying out your name from down the hall, or little fingers poking at your body to rouse you as one or both of your children sought out the comforts of their mother.

Most often during times like this though, you'd found that it was Winnie who came to get you, her brother (younger by a whopping nine minutes and twenty-three seconds), typically favoring bundling up beneath his covers until you went off to gather him up in your arms and carry him to your bedroom before cocooning him alongside his sister within the blanket that smelled soothingly of you and the detergent you used on it once weekly.

So, naturally, it worried you to note that it was August who sought you out on this particular evening.

Sympathetically, you cooed to the boy standing before you, reaching down to pick him up with ease before setting him familiarly upon your hip with a skill that was rather jarring to the nearly forgotten man standing with his back to the wall just opposite you and your son.

"Of course you can sleep with me, darling."

You assured him gently, rubbing his back with your still free hand as you allowed your voice to take on that soft and soothing tone that all mothers seemed to master at one point or another,

"Does sissy need me to go and get her tonight?"

Your son had just begun quietly shaking his head when the sound of small feet on tiled floors caught your attention, and you immediately turned to better see the source of it as your daughter came into view.

There, backlit in the very same way that her brother had been, stood your ever so brave and dreadfully witty Winnifred, whose hair was still up in messy pigtails from earlier that day due to her refusal to allow you to take them out at bedtime.

You often claimed that she didn't get such stubbornness from you whilst you were teasing her, but you knew deep down that such a statement was far from true.

She was, after all, just as much your daughter as she was Fred's, and it seemed that the apple did not fall far from the tree in that particular regard.

"There's my sweet girl,"

You began, squatting down to offer your unoccupied arm to her,

"Would you like a cuddle as well, then?"

And immediately, the elder of your two children all but launched herself into your arms, muttering softly of her nightmare and the fading details she recalled of it as she buried her face into your neck, relaxing herself with any and all familiaritites you carried about your person.

You shushed her gently, swaying your body back and forth with a practiced rhythm until all of the sudden, Fred's voice snapped you straight out of your reverie.

"They truly are real then."

He said softly, as if in utter disbelief of the sight unfolding before him.

Unsure of what to say, you simply nodded, avoiding his gaze to the very best of your ability as you prayed he didn't notice the quiver in your bottom lip upon hearing the hurt and confusion in his voice.

"I-"

Seeming to choke a bit on his words, Fred faltered for a moment, floundering in place until finally, he simply shook his head and sighed.

"I should go."

Your eyes widened at that, and your head quickly snapped up as the man standing before you pulled a small pen and notepad set from his back pocket, the front of it clearly stained with ink and worn from use.

No doubt for his ideas, then, you realized idly before putting a stop to any familiarity you felt for the individual standing before you.

He was a different man now, a totally new person.

You had no right thinking of him as if you still knew who he was today.

Scribbling out a few lines of text in writing that you knew all too well, the ginger sighed before tearing the piece of paper he had been using out and handing it to you.

"That there is the address to mine and George's shop and our apartment just above it. If you don't find me there, I'm likely at Mum's or somewhere just down the road. Have someone let me know if you ever stop by while I'm not in."

Shocked, you nodded absently before finally finding it within yourself to speak up once more.

"So I'm guessing you'll be wanting me to come to you about all of this sooner rather than later?"

Shrugging in a manner that you would almost describe as hopeless, Fred looked to you briefly before quickly glancing away, as if pained by the mere sight of you alone.

"I would have wanted you to come to me about our children years ago, but better late than never I suppose."

Opening your mouth as if to argue with his statement, you found that nothing worth saying would come.

Once again, it seemed he was rather justified in how he felt.

Once again, it seemed you were the bad guy for doing what you had felt was right all those years ago.

What a mess.

Seeing your apparent speechlessness, Fred simply nodded in farewell before apparating out of your apartment complex without another word, leaving you to wonder how today could have begun so typically and ended in such a life altering manner.

Such was life with twins, you supposed.

masterlist

[kozachenko]

Don't really have much to post again aside from some more sketching that I've done recently, this time of Reimu and Marisa, mainly because I just need a starting point as to how I would go about drawing them in my style (which is why the poses are so boring lol).

Artist's Notes;

So I mentioned in the last post how I've been wanting to experiment with how I wanted to draw Reimu, and I then got an idea for Marisa. So I wanted to try and contrast the two of them with each other via their shape language and body types. For scale I also put some numbers on the side just as a visualizing aid so I can imagine them easier. I wanted to make Reimu very tall and lanky and Marisa to be short and rounder. Also, this provides some interesting contrast in their shape language, and Marisa ends up being more round and Reimu ends up feeling more sharp.

I think what I'm most worried about is mainly that I don't 100% know if these two drawings still...feel like Reimu and Marisa. MMaybe because I made so many changes to both of them, but I feel like it's mostly in their faces. I kept the little personal touches that would add when I would draw them in the past (i.e. Reimu's tiny eyebrows and Marisa's freckles) but I dunno, maybe it's in the eyes? Like, Marisa's bigger eyes and eyebrows are definitley ideas that I want to play with in the future, but Reimu.... I dunno, I like the idea of her face shape in this drawing specifically, and I defnitely feel like I got closer to the monilid eye look I was trying to achieve in my previous attempt at drawing her eyes, but something still feels off with her.

When I drew Marisa, I really wanted to explore some other ideas for her body type, mainly in contrast to Reimu, so I wanted to give her a fuller figure and make her shorter than Reimu. I do feel like her eyes could be a bit sharper as eyes look maybe a little too innocent for Marisa, but I do still want to use these eyes I drew for her as a springboard for later attempts. I made some adjustments to her dress so that they would look good on the body type I gave her. I also need to draw shoes more because those boots....I just, I don't even know, I probably just need to draw that specific body type more wearing those types of boots or find references because I am not happy with how they turned out. Out of the two of them, Marisa was definitely my favourite to draw. I really enjoying drawing different body types when I get the chance to, and I feel like it's important to try your best to expand your variety when it comes to drawing the human body, I'm glad that I'm comfortable with drawing different body types. I do still have a long ways to go with this as I just need to do it more often and still need to do this but with different body shapes and weights and how to combine those two aspects to create unique body types and silhouettes. Also, please feel free to give me any critiques to how these two designs turned out, I remember that I drew Reimu when it was late at night and spent the entire day on Marisa so I defnitely feel like there's some things to critque here.

I'll be honest... I don't really like how Reimu turned out too much. Not to say it's a bad drawing, but I dunno. I think I just need to draw Reimu more, but she's honestly the hardest character to translate into my style. The thing is, I have an idea for her in my head but I just have a hard time putting it to paper. It's not like I've never drawn her before, in fact, aside from the height I really like how she looked in this piece of fanart (why tf did I make her so short in that piece) I did a while back despite the fact that I've imrpoved on my faces a lot since then (again, I do want to try my lineless style again, I just need to find the chance to do so), maybe because that was the drawing that provided me with some of my ideas on how to draw Reimu in my style? I do think I'm definitely in the rut of the "not knowing how to draw a character's face in your style" phase that I'm sure many fan-artists go through, so with enough drawings I'll get through it eventually, just gotta suffer through several more hours of trial and error though so yipeeeeeeee... As for things I do like, Reimu's hair turned out nicely. I did my usual technique for drawing Reimu's hair and then pasted the lineart layer underneath the main lineart layer and changed the colour to give it some extra pizzaz, and I do like how Reimu and Marisa contrast each other a lot. I just need to find a way to make them feel more like themselves while still taking liberties with their designs in my style.

Even if these are just sketches and me laying the groundwork for how I want to draw these two in the future, I still want to improve how I draw them a lot (also I don't like how much these two look like teenagers, I see both of them as being in their late 20s-early 30s and it just doesn't read like that and I definitely need to do more studies in the future to get them right in my style).

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

[kitscutie]

could u do a smut where drew comes back home from italy ?

homecoming (drew starkey x fem!reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗐 ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: ꜱ𝗆𝗎𝗍 18+, ꜱ𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝖺ꜱ ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇ꜱ 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 ᖯ𝗎𝗍 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝖺/𝗇: 𝖿𝗂𝗋ꜱ𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 ꜱ𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾ꜱ𝗇𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝖼𝗄. 𝖺𝗅ꜱ𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂ꜱ 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗉.ꜱ 𝖱ⴹ𝖰Սⴹ𝖲𝖳𝖲 𝖮𝖯ⴹ𝖭!

"I'm so glad you're home." You sighed in his arms. Drew had finally returned from his long visit to Italy and you couldn't have needed it more. You were a very clingy person, anxious when you hadn't seen him in a while so it had been difficult.

He was dressed in a muscle tank, something he had been waring a lot lately and god were you happy as you got to see his biceps, which had been growing, more often.

You enjoyed the feeling of his bare skin on yours, hands wrapped around your waist which was void of fabric due to the cotton of your shirt riding up as you both lay on his bed which was messy and unmade but only on one side seeing as you had been sleeping alone for, well, too long now.

"Me too." He whispered. One hand coming to play with the hair on your scalp delicately, head tilted to face yours as his nose nuzzled the soft skin of your forehead. "You been sleeping okay?" He asked concern laced within the question.

"Mostly, some nights were a bit hard, just when I really missed you but I would never admit that." You answered, jokingly. Though you did have trouble sleeping without him. He chuckled gently along with you, though the silence of the room brought a peace you hadn't been feeling in his absence.

"You're cute." He snickered, tempting you into a peck though you refused to pull away. It had been too long.

The numerous, light kisses turned heavier, deeper slowly getting to the point that you weren't even coming up for air anymore. His breath became yours, mouths entangling repeatedly.

"Wow, you really missed me, huh?" He chuckled, one hand holding your jaw, the other smoothing over the skin of your waist.

"Yeah." You whispered while his thumb traced your lips, eyes fixed on you, and you only. Something you'd been craving for months now.

Finally giving up on fighting the urge you opened your mouth, gently biting down on the tip of his thumb. You felt the atmosphere change, his pupils shrinking.

Butterflies filled your stomach as he squeezed your cheeks together, licks puckering as the kiss ensued once more. Never once pulling away he rolled the two of you over, him now laying on top of you. One arm holding himself up next to you and you couldn't help but gawk as his veins protruded visibly.

The pair of you kissed for what felt like minutes but was really almost half an hour before he gave into temptation, hand moving from your face and ever so slowly down to the waistband of your sweatpants. Feeling his hand at the bottom of your stomach, you jolted, always very ticklish which made him chuckle in smugness.

You laughed quietly too, quickly pulling his hand back to its previous spot.

"You okay?" He asked for permission before he pushed any further.

"Yeah." You said though it almost sounded like a whine and Drew's lips turned up into a smirk, placing one last kiss on your lips before he was pulling your pants down your legs.

You helped him out, lifting your hips and noting that they met something hard in his pants. You could guess what it was.

His hand began to drift into your underwear though you stopped him, "No, it's okay, want you." You whispered bashfully, tugging at the ends of his shirt before you pulled it over his head, taking in his toned body.

"No baby, we don't want it to hurt, it'll only take a couple of minutes." He answered, shaking his head but again you denied.

"No seriously it's fine." You blushed, hinting that you didn't need to be warmed up, you could feel it dripping into your underwear, a wet spot forming that you weren't aware of.

"Oh." He said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"Shut up. It's been a while." You murmured, cheeks now bright red as you turned your head away from his watchful eyes.

He grabbed your chin with his hand, the end of his thumb gripping onto your bottom lip, lightly dipping into your mouth as he used it to turn you to face him once more. "Look at me, yeah?" He asked, and warmth filled your chest. Lust or love, you weren't sure.

You simply nodded, helping him unbuckle the belt that held his jeans around his waist while he unbuttoned and took them off.

You both took your own underwear off feverishly, having enough of the waiting.

"Ready?" He asked, eyes glancing down into yours which were hooded but shining with excitement.

Ever so slowly he placed the tip against your, extremely, wet entrance, circling it a few times before you whined in complaint to which he gently 'shushed' you, chuckled but finally gave you what you'd been waiting for for months.

As he pushed in Drew could swear he heard you sigh in relief. Your hands tightened around his biceps while he pushed his head into your neck.

Your lips latched onto said neck, sucking harshly intending to leave bruises. You had missed all of this greatly from the smell of his cologne down to the kisses he'd give you before leaving for work at six in the morning.

The first thrust brought you back to reality. He hit just where you needed him, to the hilt as your bodies touched as close as they possibly could.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, relief that he was home, happiness. Whatever it was you knew it was the most euphoric you had felt in a while.

He kissed them away as he continued fucking you into the mattress below. You actually weren't sure if this counted as 'fucking' seeing as it was slow and soft. The type of sex that happened when your only worries were making sure the other person knew you loved them with every inch of your being.

Your body's were truly entwined, never parting as your hips grinded against one another.

"I love you." You said, hand gripping tightly onto the back of his neck.

"I love you too baby." He replied, thrusts speeding up as you felt him throb inside of you, Your own pressure building in your lower belly. "You're so good for me." He added, panting as his words pushed you to the edge.

Coming around him your walls tightened, leading to his own climax, hips officially pistoning in and out of you as fast as humanly possible.

Finally releasing, he came inside of you and you felt some of it drip out onto the bed as he pulled out, instantly checking in on you and worshiping the love you gave him.

"Clean up in a minute?" You asked, hoping to recover in his arms for a little longer.

"Yeah, in a minute." He agreed, turning you both on your sides, spooning you with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other being used as a pillow by you he placed soft kisses against the warm skin. "You treat me so well angel." He murmured against your hair.

You began an argument that he was the good one in this relationship. He was the one to take care of you but he shushed you and told you to get some rest. That was all it took to put you out like a light, having the best sleep possible since he had left months ago.

None of that mattered now though, he was home and you were safe in his arms.

[xagave]

pleasepleaseplease recommend some danphan fics!!

Sorry these are on ff.net I was into danphan before AO3 was really A Thing. Invisobang also just completed and a whole wack of new fics are also now out for your enjoyment so I suggest taking a look there too Lab Rat - Danny (as Phantom) is captured by his parents and vivisected in the lab. THE MOST iconic dp fic from this era of fandom and also the first dp fic I ever read which single-handedly got me into the fandom. I also recommend anything else by this author[sequel]

Pits - Danny is captured by Walker and thrown into the Pits to fight for his life. HANDS DOWN my all time favorite dp fic. I drew a bunch of fanart for it and never showed the author LMAO [sequel]

In The Way - A twisted tale of a summer spent all alone

Wondering - Danny's been captured and tortured by his parents, but he refuses to say a word until his psychiatrist starts connecting the dots. Can he risk keeping it a secret any longer?

Dreams of Light - A cute box ghost fic with a fun twist at the end

Phantom's Sketchbook - Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom

Masks - Lancer has had enough of his most enigmatic, frustrating student Daniel Fenton and forces him to stay in detention with him until Danny tells him The Truth. A story examining Danny's relationship with the human race. Another BIG FAVE of mine [sequel]

Darkness - Part 1 of Illuminations saga. [part 2][part 3][part 4] Maddie and Phantom are trapped in the dark and must work together to avoid dying. I don't remember much about this but I do remember it being super creepy and I bulldozed my way through all 4 parts so it must have been good lol

I'm Still Here - Danny's been locked away in a forgotten thermos, buried in the backyard for 70 years. When he's finally released, happy isn't the word he'd use to describe his new life

Real Life - A very creepy take on ghosts and the events of the show, where they're more inhuman, feral, and scary. I don't remember much about this but it's unfinished

Lopeholt - Valerie must survived the night in the third scariest place on earth. **VERY** creepy, I remember reading this in the dark and it gave me nightmares. Another top fave. I def recommend reading anything else by this author

Running to the Enemy's Arms - Danny runs away and ends up on the doorstep of the person who's dead last on his list of favorite people - Vlad. Danny/Vlad father son relationship. A fun and interesting view of what Danny's life would be like had he been the son Vlad always wanted. Incomplete but also another BIG FAVE of mine. Tolerate the first 1-2 chapters and the rest is golden

Checkmate - Vlad forces Danny to leave everything behind in order to save Jazz's life. But just when the billionaire believes to have won his chess game against his young rival, Danny makes a single unexpected move.

A Secret Uncovered - Danny's transformation is caught on tape and now the whole town knows who he is Photoshop - Dash and Kwan find an old class picture and start having a little too much fun on Photoshop. Will someone's secret be revealed?

Chained - It starts with a fire at the Guys in White headquarters, where a vengeful Valerie stumbles across an imprisoned Danny Phantom. It starts with injustice. But what happens when justice and revenge are confused for one another? Where does a hero end, and a villain begin?

Phantom of Truth - Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth… except, perhaps, herself [Sequel]

The Soul Sepulchre - Something foul is stirring in Amity Park and it all starts in the bowels of Amity Park's Museum of Natural History

Moral Code - Moral code says to never kill or capture a specimen that you did not weaken yourself. Maddie finds Danny Phantom wounded late at night after a hard battle. After she helps him, she finds there is more to him than she ever thought possible. Mother/son bonding

Connections - Maddie knows that the Booo-merang has keyed into Danny, for whatever reason, so what's she to think when she sees it collide with Phantom? [Sequel]

Isolated - It's just a wish that's been granted with the wrong twist, but for Danny, it's a nightmare that's become reality. He's stuck as Phantom, his family's hunting him, and everyone who can help him is gone

Little Earthquakes - They say that a man is defined by what he does when he thinks nobody's looking. Does the same hold true for ghosts?

Tortured Truth - Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? [Sequel]

Estrelas - AU. Sam's attention is captured by a lonely ghost haunting her grandmother's attic…and discovering his secrets will take everything she has.

Criteria of Life - Every living thing must follow the Laws of Life; however, Maddie wonders if Phantom can somehow follow these laws as well. The fact that he is a ghost is putting a knick in her plans, but what if Phantom can follow the Laws of Life?

[blu3-ja3]

Hello! So I want to establish O'Connor a bit more and how she views each member of the 141. All of these will be in first person not my typical 3rd person limited. We're going youngest to oldest so Soap up first.

!TRIGGER WARNING! Panic Attacks, Misguided Grief

1) Smart but Forgetful

Soap is a smart young man, in a way that's terrifying at time. I've watched MacTavish make a bomb from fertilizer, random metal scrap and a broken lighter. Ghost seemed turned on proud of his sergeant on that particular mission. It never fails to amaze me to watch MacTavish work out how much it would take for him to level a building. But he also has a nasty habit of not wearing proper protective gear when dealing with demolitions on and off the field. On the field I can let it slide but when we're on base it worries me to no end.

I've scolded him a great many times before I just started scolding Ghost as well. More often than not the two were together when Soap goes about his explosive work. Price found it hilarious that I've made it a rule that everyone has to carry a set of closed fingered gloves for Soap, that way if they're on field with the man and he starts his work they can give him the gloves so I don't have to treat chemical burns that could easily be prevented.

2) A Simple Gesture

The first time the young sergeant saw my scar he was kind and far more interested in my sleeve. It was late out. I couldn't sleep and figured working out until I was ready to collapse would be the best course of action. I was in a compression sports bra and sweats, I wasn't expecting anyone to be awake so I didn't bother wearing my typical long sleeve turtle neck. I was distracted and didn't notice Soap appearing in the door to the workout room.

"Who did your ink Cap?"

"JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH! MacTavish where the hell did you come from?" I practically jumped out of my skin as I turned around.

"My room? You okay Doc? You seem a bit jumpy." Soap tilted his head to the side with a concerned smile on his face. I suddenly felt very aware of the fact that the sergeant could see my discolored and scared arm and body.

"I'm fine, I'll just leave you to your work out sergeant." I made a move to grab my bag and leave

"Wait! Captain I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I can leave. I was just curious about your sleeve. I've seen some glimpses of it, I'd like a better look but it makes you uncomfortable then I'll leave." Soap offered with a shy smile

" My son, William, drew most of them." I relaxed a bit as Soap approached

"He's an incredible artist, would it be okay if I got a closer look?" Soap asked as he gestured to my arm.

"Would you like to help yourself to one of his sketchbooks? I have one in my office if you'd like to get a better look." I laughed as Soap took my left arm turning it staring intently at the pieces.

"If Will doesn't mind, I don't want to intrude."

I smiled "I'm fairly sure he wouldn't mind Suds"

3) A Mother's Grief

It hurts how similar Soap can be to William, both are incredible artist who are constantly doodling on any scrap of paper. But the similarities didn't seem to stop there, they're both terribly smart and passionate. They care deeply for those they've befriended and had a mischievous streak to them. I think often about what kinda of shenanigans the two would get up to with the other sergeants.

At times though it hurts to be around the young man. He makes me wonder what William would be like as he got older. I cried for hours the night Soap called me, mom. I felt guilty, so incredibly guilty. I thought I was replacing Will with the young sergeant and it killed me. I went to Price after another night of tears and guilt.

"Maevis you alright?"

"No, no I'm really not John."

"What's wrong? Did Oliver do something?"

" No, Jesus, it's about Sergeant MacTavish."

John tensed "What about him O'Connor?"

" He called me, mom last night, he was having a rough go of it. I found him and did what I could, I eventually took him back to his barracks. I tried to convince myself he just called me ma'am but Soap has never called me Ma'am. I feel like I'm being eaten alive by guilt! Like I've replaced William without me realizing. How could I? Will was... Is my baby, he's my boy. I love him! How could I do that to him?" Tears streamed down my face I couldn't stand to look at John.

"Oh Maevis, you muppet. You've done nothing wrong. You still love William, I know you do because you still have the charm made of his ashes. MacTavish called you mom because you did what you always do. You're a care taker Maeve, a mother by instinct and you treat everyone like your child. You haven't replaced your son, you would have done the same thing if Will was alive. You're being too hard on yourself Maevis." John had pulled me into a hug until I finally stopped shaking.

"We both know if Will was here he'd be instant friends with the boys. And he'd hold no ill will towards you being a mother to them."

"Yes you're right, you're always right John."

4) An Artistic Collaboration

Soap is constantly coloring in the tattoos on both mine and Ghost's arms. He was a very tactile person, constantly platonically touching everyone in the 141. MacTavish was quick to notice the missing piece on my sleeve, a decent sized spot above my wrist.

"So what's going there Doc?"

"Well it was ment to be another piece William was drawing specifically for me but he never got around to it. There are simple sketches in his last sketch book but nothing finished."

"Do you mean the horse?"

I nodded in confirmation as Soap turned my arm to start coloring another tattoo with the skin safe markers he was given by Roach.

"Yeah, I wanted to get a kelpie or an undead unicorn. William was enthralled by the idea and wanted to draw it for me. He uh... You know..."

"Yeah, if you'd like I could finish it for you. Why the clovers as filler? It makes coloring you so difficult!"

"I like clovers, used to call Will my lucky clover. Sergeant?"

Soap looked up from where he was focusing on my arm, his hand stilling as he removed the light green marker from my skin.

"If you'd like to, I'd be honored to have your artwork complete my sleeve." I watched as MacTavish's eye lit up with excitement.

"You're not joking Cap? You'd get my art tatted on you?" I nod smiling as the sergeant moved to grab his leather sketchbook.

" Id still like the undead unicorn or kelpie but you're free to do what you'd like with the concept... Are you going to finish coloring my arm or am I going to walk around with a half colored arm?" Soap waved his hand at me as he continued to draw. I chuckled before getting up to leave to go do my rounds.

5) Motherly Advice

I'm sitting in my office filling out paperwork and going through the medical bay inventory. I see my door open from the corner of my eye. I see the tall tale mohawk of one sergeant MacTavish

"How's she cuttin' Suds?"

"Um Mom? Can I ask you a question?" I smiled a bit at the name before calming myself. The boys only call me mom, outside of the usual teasing, if something was serious.

"What's wrong Johnny Boy?" I turned to face the man , setting down my pen as the scott sat across from me.

"You've been in a relationship before right Doc?"

"Um well yes but it wasn't the best example of a relationship..."

"I know but it was with a man, yeah?"

"... Yes? MacTavish can I ask what's this about? Because it may be better to ask Price, lad"

" How did you know you were gay?!" MacTavish seemed to be flustered as his cheeks were a bright pink.

"You were married to a man, yeah? And now you look at so of many of the nurses with such infatuation or at least you stare at any woman like she's the best view you've ever seen! I know what that means Doc.... So how did you know? Cause for most of my life I liked Bonnies but Gho- someone has made me question everything!"

"Tav my boy deep breaths yeah, do you want me to be honest?" Soap nodded furiously.

"I don't know, Oliver was my only partner for a very long time... I was only 16 when we started dating, got married just before I was deployed at 18 and I divorced him when I was 20. I didn't date while I was raising Will, I was so busy being a single mom while active duty, I was recovering from this," I gestured to my heavily scared body. " Then Will passed, I couldn't bring myself to go out let alone date... But you're right I taken a liking to many of the lassies I've seen. But I truly don't know if that makes me gay."

" Is it only ladies that catch your attention?"

"It seems so, yes... But why ask me John? Why not talk to Kyle or Price, the two who are in a very openly gay relationship. Both of them are most definitely more qualified in both regards..." I mumble the last bit.

" I don't know, you were the first person I thought of. "

" Let me ask you this then. This someone, does he make you happy?"

"Yes..."

"Do you trust him?"

"More than anyone I've ever met."

" Then what does it matter if you're gay, straight, bi, whatever?"

"What if he doesn't like me back?"

"You're talking about Ghost, right?"

Soap blushes furiously before replying "Yes I'm talking about Ghost... "

" I know he's not the most expressive or forthcoming but he's different with you John. You know that right?"

Soap nods before something seems to click, he stood up rapidly and rushed towards my office door.

"I'm sorry, I've just remembered something I've gotta go! THANK YOU FOR THE TALK DOC!" Soap's voice echoed down the hall.

A few days later, Ghost and Soap made an announcement that they are dating.

"Wait, you weren't before?" Roach asked

"No, what made you think that?" Soap asked

"Well you were constantly leaving the Lieutenant's room after some very... Loud activities..." Roach smirked "You two seem to forget who's barracks are next to Ghost's!"

It was evident even through Ghost's mask that the man was blushing.

"Oh quite your teasing Roach! Honestly we're happy for you boys, you two deserve happiness!" I smile sweetly at the two young men.

I'm happy that everyone has found someone, and while I'm happy to have helped the young sergeant he's helped me realize my neglect towards myself and my relationships.

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Six

A knock sounded rapidly on the door of our hotel room, pulling me from a deep sleep. Butcher and I both shot up in bed before looking at each other, me wearing a far more panicked expression than him.

"Who the hell is that?" I mouthed, not wanting the most likely threatening guest on the other side of the door to hear.

Butcher shook his head as he drew a calloused digit up to rest on his closed lips, signaling me to stay silent as he grabbed his newly polished handheld from the bedside table. Quietly, he stood and walked on the balls of his bare feet towards the door in nothing but a pair of black boxers. I would've enjoyed the view more had I not been reaching for my trusty pocket knife, which I had stashed under my pillow the night before.

The blade effortlessly flicked out, gleaming under the light from the bedside table I had switched on. I rose onto my knees, ready to be Butcher's backup if need be as he grasped the shiny doorknob and turned it slowly, opening the door no more than an inch.

Butcher's shoulders visibly relaxed as an overly cheery greeting flowed from his mouth. "Top of the mornin’ to ya’, governor."

When Ed's voice came from out in the hall, I blew a breath through my mouth and flopped back down on the bed, dropping my knife on the nightstand closest to me.

"Oh, good morning. Mr. Butcher, sir. I usually don't make a habit of checking up on my guests unannounced, but you didn't answer the courtesy wake-up call this morning, and I wanted to make sure you folks were alright."

"No worries, mate," Butcher assured the elderly innkeeper as he discreetly slid his gun into the waistband of his boxers, letting the pistol rest against his lower back.

"The misses and I had quite a late night, with it being our honeymoon n’ all. My wife was so insatiable, I swear I had to paw her off me when it chimed three."

My mouth opened in horror, and I didn't hesitate to hurl Butcher's pillow at his back, causing him to stumble forward in surprise.

"Bloody hell, there she is again. I'd love to stay and have a chin wag, but my husbandly duty calls.”

Ed chuckled from behind the door, but I never caught his response as Butcher closed said door and turned back to face me.

"Well, nothin’ like a little mornin’ fright to get the day started. I swear, plannin’ a whole fight in my head sure does get the blood pumpin’, ya’ know what I mean?"

I ignored Butcher's words as I scowled up at him. "I am not insatiable."

"Really? Coulda fooled me," he shrugged, earning him another pillow to his face this time. But it did nothing to get my point across as he laughed at total volume, throwing his head back before retrieving both of our pillows that now rested on the baby blue carpet.

"I swear, love, you're easier to wind up than the little toys me mum used to buy me as a wee boy."

"That’s funny because wind-up toys were invented in the 15th century, but I suppose that makes sense considering your age."

Butcher froze, pillows still in hand, as he raised a dark brow. "Interestin’. I thought I fucked all the attitude outta ya’ last night."

"Well, it's not my fault you weren't very thorough," I quipped back."

"S’that so? Well. Don't make any plans today, sweetheart, because when I'm done with you, ya’ won't even remember how to walk, eh?"

"What plans? God knows I'm stuck here with you for the forseeable future."

Butcher tossed the pillows beside my head and crawled up the length of my body. He looked down at me, smirking before I felt his hand begin to fumble with the hem of his Hawaiian shirt I'd stolen last night.

I noticed the absence of his usual chain with his wedding band dangling in my face, and for that, I was grateful. The last thing I wanted while having sex was a constant reminder of the love of Butcher's life and of the fact that if she weren't dead, Butcher and I wouldn't even be together. He'd be drinking wine somewhere in a suburb, and I'd still be on the streets, counting pennies for my next meal.

"If I had it my way, you'd wear nothin’ but my shirts all day, with your perfect pussy peekin’ out every time ya’ bent over," Butcher whispered filthily as he began raking the thin material up my body.

"I think that can be arranged," I breathed, anticipating Butcher's next move. But it never came due to something catching his attention.

"What's the matter," I asked, concerned, as he stayed frozen, staring down at my stomach. It wasn't until I followed his line of sight that I saw what he was fixated on.

There, just below my last right rib, were the stitches MM had resewn only a few days before. Last night, it had been dark except for the few rays of moonlight peeking in through the window. Now, the reminisce of my injury basked under the bedroom lamp light, clear as day for Butcher to see.

"They're supposed to dissolve in a couple of weeks MM said."

Butcher softly ran his finger around the row of stitches, being careful not to touch the actual closed wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not so much."

"Shoulda never fuckin’ happened." Butcher's eyes darkened as his mouth settled into a firm line. "S’all my fault."

"Butcher, this was in no way your fault," I said, quick to halt the bullshit he was spewing. "It was some invisible freak who shot me; how was any of us supposed to see that coming?"

"Doesn't fuckin’ matter!" Butcher bellowed, startling me as he slammed his fist down on the mattress beside me, making the headboard shake. "I put you in that invisible cunt's path because I was too bleedin’ obsessed with getting a meetin’ with Rayner.”

"Butcher, we all wanted that meeting with Rayner. So, don't be a fucking martyr and take the blame for something that is not even remotely your fault."

Butcher, who was stubbornly resigned to his own version of the truth, stood from the bed and kept his head down as he headed for the bathroom. "I'm gonna wash up. We can grab some grub after," he informed me curtly.

"C'mon, Butcher, don't be like this," I begged, hopping up from the bed to stop him from hiding in the bathroom to wallow in self-hatred.

His hand rested on the bathroom door, and I ran my hand up his back, watching as goosebumps rose on his freckled skin.

"I chose to be there that day," I gently reminded him. "When I decided to join this team, I knew I was putting myself at risk of getting hurt, and I made my peace with that.”

"Sometimes I wonder," Butcher whispered, leaning more of his weight on the door. I couldn't tell if it was to evade my touch or if the subject weighed so heavily on his shoulders, that he needed physical support to stay upright. "If I shoulda left ya’ there with Hugo that day."

My stomach sank at Butcher's confession, and he finally turned to face me, looking down regretfully.

"What- what are you talking about?" I stuttered. "You honestly wish you would have left me in that fucking hole?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly compare the basement of the pawnshop to the Four Seasons. At least with Hugo, you were safe and didn't have psycho supes running after ya’."

I only stared at Butcher with disappointment as he continued.

"What the fuck was I thinkin’? Bringin’ a sweet thing like you into the trenches of hell with me," Butcher murmured more to himself than me, but I answered him anyway.

"You were saving me."

Butcher scoffed, "Don't be a daft cunt. I fucked up your life."

I shook my head in firm disagreement. "Stop talking like this, and come back to bed."

I stepped back and slipped in between the sheets, hoping he would follow me. Instead, Butcher regarded me as if I were a puppy he had just kicked. So much guilt riddled into one man.

"Butcher, I am my own person," I huffed. "So how about you let me take responsibility for my own actions that got me shot that day. You were the one telling us all to get back to the van, yet I was moronic enough to pull out my own gun as if I was going to fight the unseeable son of a bitch. If I had followed your orders, I would've gotten to cover quicker and never would've been shot. Now, goddamnit, come back to bed."

Butcher swallowed as he processed my words before finally shuffling back to the bed.

"If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it my way," he whispered as he mirrored his earlier position over me, dragging up my shirt up once again.

I gave him a confused look, but he disregarded it as he began littering my body with kisses, soft and warm. His lips traced every inch of skin that was revealed by his shirt, wrapped around me, until he reached my scar and stopped for a second time, taking extra care to worship that specific area.

Butcher dragged his lips around the sensitive flesh, mumbling, "Never again. Never again will I let somethin’ happen to ya’."

My head rested against the bed as I relished in the tenderness Butcher was displaying.

"No one is ever gonna touch my girl again."

My girl.

To that, my head snapped up as I gazed at Butcher, stunned.

It's possible he was too lost in the moment and had a slip of his tongue, but the softer side of me, which was hidden deep below many layers of intense insecurity and genuine self-hatred, hoped that the term was intentional.

Butcher seemed to notice my rigid stature, and he looked up into my face, displaying all of the thoughts running through my head.

"That's what ya’ are, right?" He asked, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my cheek.

"I don’t know. Am I?." My nerves had caused my voice to grow weak.

"Ain’t that how it usually works? A bloke finds a pretty lady and asks her to be his."

I took a shallow breath before daring to speak.

"Well, please forgive me, but I don't recall you ever asking me."

Butcher took on a look of mock confusion as he ran a finger under his chin, pretending to think.

"Have I not asked ya’ yet? I swear it's on me to-do list."

I giggled at his playfulness before Butcher leaned forward and cupped my face with both his hands.

"Josephine, will you please be my girl?"

Any traces of teasing had vanished as Butcher gazed at me earnestly, holding his breath as he waited for my answer.

"Yeah, ok," I smiled shyly, experiencing bashfulness for the first time in my life.

Butcher all but tackled me, pulling me into his arms and covering my head and neck with kisses. My laughter bounced off the walls, and I wrapped my arms around him, saying a silent prayer of thanks that after so much misery and consternation, he was finally and officially mine.

Our lips met in a feverish kiss before I pulled back, much to Butcher's dismay.

"I am more than happy to be your girlfriend, but I won't hesitate to break up with you if you ever call me Josephine again."

"Yes, ma'am," Butcher smirked before he wasted no time to draw me in for another kiss. Our tongues clashed as we stole the dominant role from each other multiple times.

Soon enough, our clothes were abandoned, and Butcher was quick to sink his thick length into my entrance, which was dripping just for him.

"S’only been a few bloody hours since I was inside ya’, yet you're still so fucking tight. God, what a perfect whore you are for me."

I preened under his praise that was sprinkled with the perfect hint of degradation.

"Move, please," I begged as I helplessly clenched around him, threatening to make him finish much earlier than he wanted to.”

Giving in to my pleas, Butcher pulled all the way out before forcefully thrusting back in. He began to fuck me urgently, and my walls excepted him every time he entered me with ease, thanks to my slick that was now coating my thighs and his heavy balls.

I drifted in and out of the ability to communicate, soon coming to the point where my only answer to Butcher's dirty phrases was a small cry of "Daddy" as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I had already orgasmed several times, but Butcher seemed determined to completely ruin me to the point where I really couldn't remember how to walk.

"Poor thing. Just needed Daddy's cock, huh?"

Another strangled moan exited my throat, but any attempt at an actual reply was hijacked by Butcher's phone ringing.

Both of our heads shot to where the device sat on the bedside table, and the name "MM" blinked brightly on the screen.

"You should get it," I encouraged, momentarily distracted from the way Butcher was roughly pounding into me.

"I'll call him back," Butcher replied sharply as he gripped my hips in his big hands, bringing my body to meet his thrusts.

"But, what if Hughie and him are in trouble?" I asked, throwing my head back as Butcher hit a particular spot against my gummy walls that always had me coming in moments.

"They could be fuckin’ dyin’ right now, and that still wouldn't be enough to drag me away from this cunt. Besides, MM texted last night sayin’ they were safe n’ sound."

I had no real chance of winning the argument as soon as Butcher's thumb touched my aching clit, whispering praises in my ear.

"You can do it, doll. Come for Daddy one more time. Give him a nice and big one."

I was seconds away from coming like Butcher had told me to when his phone buzzed again with another incoming call, causing my head to snap sideways and study the device as MM's name popped up once again.

"Mm, Butcher, you need to answer. There must be a problem if he’s calling you again," I tried to reason as I mourned my ruined orgasm thanks to MM's persistent attempt at making contact.

Butcher grunted in frustration as he slowed his thrusts but didn't stop completely, letting his fat cock continue to stretch me open.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet, yeah?" Butcher instructed as he kept a firm grip on one of my hips and used his other hand to hold his phone, bringing it to his ear.

"Oi, what the fuck do ya’ twats want?" He yelled gruffly into his phone.

Even though MM couldn't see us, just knowing that even a tiny sound from me would give away what we were doing made my face heat with embarrassment. It was entirely humiliating, but I knew Butcher was betting on the fact that it would get me off, and I was ashamed to admit that he was right. But he had already received confirmation by the way I pulsed around him, and he sent a smirk my way before answering MM.

"Yeah? Well, just be careful, and tell Hughie to pull his head outta his bum and look where he's bloody walkin’."

Butcher was quiet as MM's muffled voice sounded from the other side of the call, and I slapped a hand over my mouth as Butcher's length grazed my cervix, causing my lashes to wet with tears.

"Oh, us? Yeah, we're alright. Jo? Yup, she's doing just fine. Cool as cucumber she is.”

Butcher rolled his eyes as his hips momentarily slowed before immediately speeding up to rival his previous pace.

"Yes, I am being a perfect gentleman, MM. What? You don't believe me? Well, why don't ya’ ask her yourself?"

My eyes bugged out in alarm as Butcher tried to hand me the phone, but I slammed it against his chest and shook my head, silently begging for him to have mercy on me.

Butcher snickered, thoroughly entertained, as he brought his cell phone back up to his ear.

"Oi, sorry, but Jo seems to be sleepin’. Yep, she had a very tirin’ night last night. What can I say? The poor girl is knackered."

By this point, I was completely out of it, and all it took was a single brush of Butcher's thumb over my swollen clit again before I was coming.

I wasn't even aware that Butcher had hung up or orgasmed himself as my vision blacked and I lost feeling in my limbs.

"You ok, doll?" Butcher asked softly, drawing me back to consciousness.

I could only whine in response, and I felt Butcher spread my legs before a warm towel caressed my skin, cleaning me up. I moaned my thanks through a horse throat.

Finally, I peeled my eyes open as Butcher gently sat me up to pull his shirt back over my body.

"You just rest here, yeah? And I'll go scrounge about downstairs for somethin’ for us to nip on. That sound good, darlin?”

I nodded with a blissed-out smile on my face, enjoying the feeling that I was floating on clouds rather than lying on a simple mattress.

But just as Butcher opened the door to leave, I stopped him.

"What did MM want? Are he and Hughie ok?"

Butcher did little to suppress his laughter as he ran a hand down his face.

"MM just wanted to let me know that Hughie had apparently fallen and hit his head. The gash was so deep that MM thought it would be best if he took the lad to the hospital. He was lettin’ me know in case they were spotted."

"Hughie fell? Did he trip over something?"

"Yup. His own two feet."

I snorted loudly as I ducked my head into my pillow and listened as the door clicked shut behind Butcher as he exited the room.

With my eyes now closed again, I blindly reached my hands out, searching for the covers. Upon finding them, I pulled them over my head and curled up on my side, deciding to take a cat nap as I waited for Butcher to return with breakfast.

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

tag list: @weallhaveadestiny @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @mandossillyriduur

comment to be added to the tag list!🖤

abandoned masterlist

[shanks-the-wino]

Shanks X CisFem Reader

Date

"F/N," your cousin drew your name out into a long whine, "please just give this guy a chance."

"I told you I don't like being fixed up P." you replied sternly, "Zoro please talk some sense into your sister."

"It's not like you have to marry the guy." the greenette muttered from the sofa.

Perona grinned mischievously; Zoro almost never took her side, "See it won't be bad. You need to get out more. Plus you get a free meal. Just say yes already."

You dragged your hand down your face, "I hate both of you."

"Yes!" Perona cheered whipping out her phone, "You won't regret it."

*ping*

Sake8zero: How's the night?

"Doubtful." you smirked at your cousins.

Pyt07: ugh

Pyt07: and I'm not even at work

Sake8zero: so what's so ugh?

Pyt07: I'm with my cousins and the oldest is trying to set me up

Sake8zero: in what sense? Are they plotting a murder or some kind of heist?

Pyt07: you have quite the imagination

Pyt07: a date.

Shanks frowned at his phone.

Sake8zero: Blind dates aren't all that bad

Sake8zero: if we ever met it would sort of be a blind date right?

Pyt07: that isn't even close to the same

Pyt07: we at least talk, minus names and you not having a profile picture. The point is I feel like I know you at least a little.

Pyt07: Perona is awful at matching me with people.

Sake8zero: Well, if it turns out to be bad at least you won't have to deal with it again.

Pyt07: You're awfully supportive of this Mr. WeShouldMeet

Sake8zero: Feel free to stop brining that up.

Sake8zero: Also, it's just a quick meeting. It won't hurt.

He was being too nonchalant. Not knowing what else to say, he somehow managed to come off as if he didn't mind you going out with another man. He minded he minded very much.

Pyt07: sigh

Pyt07: you guys are killing me. I'll try to be open to this but based on past experience I don't have much hope.

Sake8zero: What was so bad about the last time she set you up?

Pyt07: It ended up being my ex's best friend. She didn't know the six degrees of separation I guess and neither did he. It was only a few weeks after Killer and I broke up so it just made me look really sad.

Pyt07: Not to mention he and I never got along so our personalities weren't even compatible.

Sake8zero: That is troubling.

Pyt07: See?!

Sake8zero: You can always text me if it goes South and I'll send you a 911 message.

Pyt07: My knight is shining armor

Sake8zero: I try.

Sake8zero: when is the fated date?

Pyt07: two days apparently. We're supposed to meet at some bar downtown.

Pyt07: She's literally squealing.

Sake8zero: you're such a good cousin.

Pyt07: Shut up.

Sake8zero: I have to get back to work so I'll stop interrupting your date planning

Pyt07: I didn't know you ever worked this late.

Sake8zero: We took on a new client recently. I'm just getting things in order.

Pyt07: Oh I'll catch ya later then.

Sake8zero: Talk to you tomorrow.

                                                                                       __________________

You sat at a two top in the back corner of Shaky's Bar. Tapping your phone anxiously on the table you glanced around the busy room. Your date was late, by a half hour. The only thing worse than a blind date is being stood up by a blind date.

"F/N?" a breathless voice rasped pulling your attention from your phone.

"Bartolomeo." you replied looking over the incredibly tall greenette.

"Sorry for being so late." he took a seat in front of you, "My roommates ...well it's a long story."

"It's alright," you held back a sigh, "I hope you don't mind I started without you." you gestured toward your drink.

"Ah...no." he flagged down a server to place his order.

You didn't want to be there and he could probably feel it. He was attractive but face tattoos and septum piercings weren't exactly your style. Plus being late regardless of reasoning didn't leave a good impression either. After getting his drink you continued to sit and awkwardly chat. It was blatantly clear that you had nothing in common. Soon the conversation dwindled and his attention shifted to his phone.

Pyt07: you said I could request an emergency...

As you pressed send on your messenger a small group of men pushed passed your table bumping into you dumping an entire glass of merlot down the front of your lavender dress.

"Oh my," a familiar voice piped, "I'm so sorry... F/N, right?"

Something about the redhead's genuine smile brought a flush to your cheeks.

"Hey!" Bartolomeo called rising to his full height, "Watch where you're going asshole."

"I'm apologizing to the young lady." Shanks calmly replied before turning back to you, "It seems I've ruined your dress."

You had been too busy staring to do anything about the spill.

"Ah...uh...yeah." You stammered grabbing napkins from the table and patting yourself dry, "I think this is my cue to call it a night. Thanks for the drinks Barto."

"Uh, no problem?" he looked on confused as you stood grabbing your purse.

"I'll see you out." Shanks chimed.

Bartolomeo watched the two of you walk through the crowd completely puzzled by what just happened.

"You should at least let me replace the dress." Shanks offered for the third time before you even made it to the entrance.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't like this dress that much anyway." You raised your hand in front of you, "I should thank you actually. He was a nice guy but it was a terrible date."

The redhead chuckled, "Well then you're welcome. Need a ride?"

"I'm not far from here." You shivered not realizing the evening had cooled down so much.

"I'll walk you then." He suggested shrugging out of his jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

"Sure, thanks." You snuggled into the residual warmth that swathed you, "I'm surprised you remembered me. My customer service couldn't have been that great."

"On the contrary, you made an impression."

There was that smile again.

"Quite the charmer." you smirked.

Another exuberant laugh rumbled through the man beside you. It was a pleasant sound that even in this short walk; you were convinced you'd never grow tired of.

Shanks was practically floating down the sidewalk, completely ecstatic that you allowed him to accompany you. He'd initially fretted that you'd find it creepy but it seemed your personalities meshed well no matter the platform. The conversation continued playfully to the entrance of your building.

"This is me." You jabbed your thumb toward the stoop behind you, "Thanks for the walk."

"It was my pleasure really. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."

"We'll see I guess." you held back the bold urge to ask him for his number, not knowing he was doing the same.

"Have a great night." the redhead murmured turning back the way you'd come raising a hand to wave.

You entered the building not realizing you were still wearing his jacket until you reached your apartment.    

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 13. Shimmering Icicles [C3]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, Prompt 6. Out Of Care

A/N:As promised! Here's today's fic - hope you'll love it 🤭 We're starting to get mighty warm in this one 👀 I mean, it is wintertime over here so I certainly don't mind 🤭🙈 I'm also so beyond ready to get a little break tbh - it's been nonstop of everything for the past few weeks (the last three days being super hectic with the writing as you know) and I'd love to curl up with a good book or longer fic and just take a moment to exist but I'm also super happy about all the writing I've gotten done so far this month 😂 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and that December keeps on giving all the good stuff 🥰❤

Tags/TW’s: Mutual Secret Pining, Wishing For Forgiveness, Cuddling Close In Sleep, Masturbation, Bathtub Pleasure, Unwilling/Unplanned Voyeurism, Virgin Reader, Sexual Desperation, Struggling With Emotions & New Sensations, Wishing For More, Yielding For Another's Benefit

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

Your body hummed with warmth, a calmness seemed sturdily wrapped around you as you awoke to the steadily growing light of dawn sifting through your closed eyelids. It was late morning and you couldn’t quite make yourself fully wake up. The dream of Richard returning to you in the middle of the night made you force yourself to remain on the borderline to wakefulness — the encompassing warmth did little to help sleep leave.

A flexing hand at your hip jolted your senses. You drew a quiet gasp as your eyes popped open in a rush. A pale chest dusted with grey hair filled your vision, the steady thumping of a heart beneath your ear rousing you further. You were curled up against Richard, his arm under your head and wrapped around your back. It wasn’t a dream .

You tried to remain utterly still, endeavouring to relax your muscles to fain sleep. Never had you laid so close. Never had he held you tightly. Never had you heard his heartbeat before or felt his steady breaths under your palm as his chest rose and sank. He was warm, soft yet sturdy — but that you already knew. How I missed you, darling … It was really a strange thing, though. Given everything, how had you fallen in love with the stoic man and felt as if he was missing from you when he wasn’t around? When did that really happen?

Richard hummed and tensed his arm for a second before his breaths turned deep and steady once more. You gently tilted your head back. His face was a wondrous thing to look at. Especially in that moment; his hard lines softened by sleep, the tension in his jaw gone for the time being, and his often scrunched eyebrows softly curved in relaxation. Your fingers tingled to reach up and drag down the curve of his hooked nose, to stroke those cheeks with the slight tint of rosy warmth and grey stubble.

You refrained. Instead, you cuddled closer, closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep. You wanted to remain there for as long as possible, a lacking in your heart you hadn’t known about suddenly felt filled with his closeness. Despite everything, he had come back and whatever discussion was to be had could wait. Your eternity rested in his hands, his words, but surely forever could spare another minute…

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He dared not move. The sun shone through the curtains, the day having since long begun. Yet he lay absolutely still, like a dead man in a casket. He kept his breaths deep and slow, every muscle relaxed and softened. Your warmth invaded his skin, your scent filled his nose, your soft breaths filled his ears with a sweet whooshing sound so low he could barely hear it but the warmth it fanned over his bare chest in intervals could not be missed.

Perhaps I perished in sleep and have reached— no, I must be very much alive, with my sweet wife cuddled close. The muddled and unfamiliar sensations within him were difficult to pinpoint — there were so many of them and all quite elusive to correctly term in their newness. His rigid cock was an easier matter to understand, you felt like perfection against him — despite the nightdress keeping your soft skin from his. This is not a time for my desperate need. I may very well be on the brink of never gaining such a gift from her, I cannot jeopardize this moment or the future beyond it.

He drew a deeper breath, gently moving his muscles to give you the chance to move away before ever knowing he was awake and aware of how the two of you lay so maddeningly close. But you didn’t move, nothing about your state changed and a mixture of relief and sorrow flooded him. He wished you awoke and remained cuddled against him willingly, what one did in sleep one had little control over and if you did not wake and made the active choice to remain close to him the moment meant that much less.

He sneaked his arm free before abandoning the warmth to shrug on his robe. When he glanced at you over his shoulder, your arm lay stretched over the mattress where he had been a moment ago but other than that nothing had changed. Asleep… Perhaps that is the only time I deserve your closeness, when you offer it unknowingly. The thought stabbed at his usually cold heart, his aching cock demanding to enter your warmth and find its sweet release, his skin itched to be connected with yours, and above all he wished for you to look him in the eye while offering your forgiveness.

None of it was granted, of course. He merely left the bedroom with a final glance at your sleeping form before heading to the bathroom. His movements were hurried, the constant pressure to go back and wake you, kiss you, press you down into the mattress with his own body while offering you all the pleasure he could was agonizingly unbearable.

He filled the tub with steaming water and shrugged out of his robe and underpants before sinking into the water with a deep groan. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he tried to resist the urges coursing through his veins with the image of you in the bed as a constant stoker to the fire within him. It all mixed with his anger, his hurt, his wish for forgiveness, and the uncontrollable warmth you seemed to thaw his entire heart with.

His cock jerked as a memory flashed of you smiling widely at him, eyes all twinkly and warm when looking upon him. “Fucking hell and damnation,” he huffed out in a near snarl. “She’ll be the death of me, I swear it.” His hand found his cock and grabbed it harshly, squeezing the throbbing length with almost too much force as the need to come to the thoughts of you looking at him with warmth turned overwhelming.

He stroked himself, the water rippled at the motion as he spread his legs wider to relieve the pressure on his balls. “ Fuck ,” he hissed as he upped the pace, thinking of your hands on him, your lips against his skin, forgiveness and words of want tumbling out of your alluring mouth as he stroked himself harder. “Y/n— oh, fuck — ” he groaned while his balls drew up, his spine stiffening at the pending release he so desperately needed if he were to have the slightest chance at keeping a somewhat clear head later.

His hips bucked against his hand, and nearly painful pleasure built higher and higher as he gripped his cock harder — needing the pain to keep him from roaring out. “Y/n, my — haaa — sweet wife, oh fuck — ” He bit down on his lip, hissing a breath out between his teeth as he tensed all over. “Yes, yes, oh fuck -, Y/n—” His sentence got cut, his entire body turned stiff, and his eyes flew open at the sound of a gasp.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, your hand over your agape mouth, the other still grasped the doorknob with with-knuckled force. “You-, you called my name,” you whispered while your cheeks turned scarlet, your entire throat rosy in a manner that only had his pleasure rising higher while your eyes seemed to look all over him in the clear bath, his hands still gripping his aching cock on the cusps of release.

It all happened in mere seconds, his lust-addled brain too caught in pleasure to fully register what was happening. “Oh my god!” you shrieked and his eyes found yours bound to his hand grasping his bulging length, he was still holding it tightly and the pressure along with your agonizingly alluring look of embarrassment and innocence tipped him over the edge before he could stop himself.

Red hot pleasure erupted within him as his cock pulsed, the water closest to it turning muddled with his cum while he gasped and groaned at the relief, his hips automatically jerking at the sensation while he tried to stop himself from completely unravelling while your intent gaze fanned the flames of his pleasure with your look of horror, intrigue, shame, and longing, all mixed into one delicious cocktail of purity to be ravaged. He couldn’t help it, you were the one woman he wished to be his and only his for all time — past, present, and future.

But this, the situation you were now in, had never been on his list of wants for your introduction to his naked anatomy. He always wished to go slow with you, make you feel safe in his proximity and closeness — make you curious, not frightened. Fucking hell , he thought while the five seconds after his climax passed in a breath-snagging stillness. Then you turned and slammed the door shut behind you with a bang so hard it rattled the walls. Dread seeped into his bones while his entire body deflated in the warm water. He feared all was lost now, seeing your reaction to him calling your name in the midst of manhandling his own cock. His body turned heavy and the sweetness of ejaculating to the thoughts of you did nothing to ease the stiffness in his shoulders.

⩤• You •⩥

You panted, your chest seemed nearly to explode as you tried to stop the raging of your pounding heart. You leaned against the door, a door you shouldn’t have entered despite hearing your name called. I thought he heard my steps, oh god, oh god, I thought— You hid your face behind your hands, your entire body felt on edge and there was a burning warmth forcing your entire body to tense as you couldn’t rid yourself of the magnificent view you had just witnessed. A primal urge. A deep-seated need. An indisputable sensation of something frighteningly new yet wholly wanted by your body.

Your skin was far too hot, your legs too shaky. The sound of Richard leaving the tub and water dripping on the tiles forced you to jolt away from the door. You couldn’t stop the feelings of him holding you close in the morning from mixing with whatever maddening sensation seeing him in such a state while nearly moaning your name made you feel now. It was too much, yet your body felt deprived of something at the same time.

Your back hit the hallway wall, your breaths in hot pants while the thin nightdress felt suffocatingly warm in the chilly house. Your eyes were glued to the door before you, your mind running rampant with the thought of your husband naked on the other side — and the length of him, the force of his hand, the look of pleasurable pain contorting his features just before his eyes had snapped to your face. The way his hips had jerked and he’d groaned, the depth of the sound wrecked you while you stood on trembling legs, frozen to the spot with only the wall for support.

Hope bloomed somewhere deep within you. Hope that he would forgive you, that he still wanted you, that he still wished to be with you despite the harsh words he’d spoken about your selfishness three days ago. You quenched a sobbed breath as your entire body confused you with the mixture of all the emotions running rampant within you. It was too much and you felt as if you were wound too tight, too tense and too loose at the same time — unable to untangle your feelings and thoughts while your body ached, thrummed, tensed, shook, all of it at the same time.

Your core ached far beyond anything else. A foreign sensation of coiling warmth your fingers seemed to itch to relieve. The view of Richard in the tub coming to the forefront, the sound of your name leaving his thin lips in such a darkly needy manner. You drew a shivering breath while trying to find your equilibrium. You couldn’t stay there, Richard would soon be done in the bathroom and you couldn’t face him when you were such a sordid mess.

After a few strained steps, you managed to get to the bedroom and slammed the door shut just as you heard the bathroom door open. You ran for the bed, diving in under the covers, and curled up in a ball of tension. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel — Your thought was cut short when the door opened slowly, the tiniest of creaking from its hinges the only indication before Richard’s footsteps echoed out. He was moving closer, each thud echoed in your core with trepidation and shame filling your blood.

“Y/n?” he asked in a deep rumble, his voice thicker than usual. You curled up further, fully hidden under the cover. You didn’t know what else to do but to hide, despite the way you’d missed him while he was gone and how happy you had felt when you noticed him wake up a mere half an hour ago but not moving away from you.

“You should not have seen that,” he said after a short moment, his steps echoing out again — drawing closer once more as he rounded the bed. “I have done my utmost to wait, shield you from my needs to allow yours to dictate the pace we move in. Why would you enter the bathroom in such a manner?” he asked, from the sound of it he stood right by your side and his voice was thick with something dark you couldn’t quite name. “I-, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice meek and strained with the confusing sensations tightening your body. “You called my name,” you continued quietly while listening to his rough breathing. A small whimper escaped you as your mind flashed with the way he’d said it, with such need and want. You never knew your name could sound so wondrous, so delectable, so lusty.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asked, his voice a caress of a rumble. “No.” “Why are you hiding, then?” You drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I-, I’m ashamed.” “Ashamed?” “Yes…” Because I feel like I’ll burst into flames if I look at you, and I looked at you when I shouldn’t have looked at you. And I’m frightened, and, and, and confused— “Why? Tell me,” Richard demanded. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t word what you were feeling, it was a mess and foreign to you. So, you remained quiet under the cover.

A long moment passed in silence, but you felt his presence. It only made you curl up further, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve whatever ache had steadily built at the apex of them. You’d felt a shadow of the sensation before, after having wed Richard and lived with him for a few weeks. He’d been dressed splendidly, seated in the parlour with a book and his legs crossed leisurely. He’d looked magnificent, the afternoon sun had shone behind him and the grey in his hair had nearly glowed from the warm light. Is this that same feeling, only stronger?

“Wife,” Richard said steadily, “answer me.” “No, I-, I cannot,” you whispered, your throat tight. “Do you wish to be alone?” he then asked, dejection hidden in his voice. Did you? Did you want him to leave? “Yes… No…” If you leave now, maybe you’ll leave completely again. I don’t want that… “I shall leave you alone, I will remain in my office,” he said in a cold manner. His voice dark and deep, it sent goosebumps along your skin and the memory of how harshly he’d spoken to you three days ago surfaced. It made you cool slightly, your mind distracted from the images of seeing him in the tub.

His footsteps receded. The sound of the door knob being turned came and your heart jolted. You threw the cover off, your breaths turning rushed, and found his eyes staring at you — no emotions in them. As if he’d turned them off. “Don’t leave me again,” you said. “I took everything down, and I’m so sorry for what I did,” you continued while trying to keep the conflicting emotions and sensations at bay. On one hand, you wished to launch yourself at him and make him take away the ache, on the other you were terrified of the way he looked at you. Blandly. Blankly. 

You looked away, not able to hold the connection. Your eyes went to the window, shimmering icicles hung from the roof and the sparkles were beautiful as the sun shone on the clear ice. Perhaps those icicles were to be the only sparkle this Christmas. It tore a sigh from you, a pitiful sound really. Yet, still, you found yourself thinking that if he needed a Christmas that wasn’t all that Christmasy then you’d accept that, and deal with it — for him. Perhaps him saying your name during such a time as in the tub meant there was a chance for more between the two of you. 

His rushed footsteps filled the room, and you hadn’t time enough to turn your head before his warm hands cradled your cheeks and stormy eyes of grey held yours unwaveringly. “You… are apologizing, to me?” he asked, a low sound of disbelief. “ I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness, Y/n.” You couldn’t say anything, his eyes held you mesmerized and there was not a single thought in your head beyond wanting to kiss the lips confessing to wanting your forgiveness and lifting the blame from you.

“Wife, sweet wife,” he exhaled in a rush while his thumbs stroked your cheeks. The rainbow-coloured sparkles of the icicles danced around him and all you could do was hold his gaze as your body went taunt and hot from the way he looked at you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well, that was a fun fic 🤭 This is really turning into something quite delicious and I do have plans for at least 2 more parts of this story so stay tuned for that in the near future - hopefully not too far off in the future (yes, yes, I'm itching to write more for Turpin - as usual 😂)

Q: What's that one thing that bothers you with the holidays? 👀 A: For me, it's the mania regarding gifts. Like, yes, I love to give and receive gifts but I think there's a bit too much of a buying spree every year rather than an actual thought behind the gifts. I'd rather have one well-thought-out gift than ten random ones 🤷

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky  @sunnylikesfrogs

@mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @daddythanatos @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus  @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

[tabl3]

elite force incorrect quotes compilation

chase, making coffee: This is going to fix everything.

-

chase: I think you're still suffering the effects of your party last night. bree: All I drank was Redbull! chase: How many? bree: Eighteen.

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oliver: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. kaz, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

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kaz: You have any sunscreen? skylar: You can't get a sunburn from a bonfire— kaz: It's for my marshmallow ya dummy.

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kaz: Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to fear how much they love me.

-

(the saga)

bree: chase? I mixed redbull with coffee and now I can see sounds, should I worry? chase: bree, I swear to god—

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oliver: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. chase: oliver: Vroom vroom, come out already.

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skylar: You didn’t cry when bambi’s mother died?! chase, sarcastically: Yes, it was very sad when the guy stopped drawing the deer.

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chase, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

-

bree, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey, Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! skylar, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids. kaz: What the fuck are you guys doing? bree: Playing systemic oppression.

-

bree: Hey, oliver. These candies you gave me? They sucked. oliver: But you ate them all. bree: I had to make sure they all sucked.

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skylar: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke? chase: I only like dark humor. skylar, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? chase: skylar: An IMPASTA!

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bree: I hate you sometimes. kaz: Well according to this picture chase drew of us holding hands that's not true. bree: kaz, you drew that. kaz: It doesn't matter.

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skylar: The greatest trick the devil ever played was getting me banned from an all you can eat pizza buffet. bree: Why’d you get banned? skylar: Touched the rat. bree: … What rat? skylar: Chunky Cheese.

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bree: Why is skylar crying on the floor? chase: She took one of those 'which elite force member are you?' quizzes. bree: And? chase: She got oliver.

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oliver: Why are you drinking? kaz: I drink when I'm depressed. oliver: But you're always drinking? kaz: smug grin

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skylar: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project? kaz: Do it or you're straight. skylar: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

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skylar: heading out to see bree oliver: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! skylar: I think I crossed that line when I got a date.

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kaz: skylar has discovered "deez nuts" jokes and it's all she says now. Everything is deez nuts. She simply can't stop. kaz: I asked skylar where she learned that joke. She made me promise she wouldn't get in trouble if she told me. I agreed. kaz: So she leans in and whispers, "deez nuts."

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bree: I feel like the world would be better if I'd never been born. chase: Aw… that's not true. chase: It'd be exactly the same. chase: You're not important.

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kaz, to bree: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! bree: proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away chase, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call bree cute or small.

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chase, referring to oliver and kaz: Those guys are dorks. skylar: Yes, but they’re my dorks.

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kaz: I think chase is in trouble. oliver: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

-

oliver: So anyways have y'all seen chase? bree: I think he went in kaz's room 'studying'. skylar: Doubt that. I heard groans there. Meanwhile in kaz's room chase & kaz, fighting:

-

chase: What do we say when life disappoints us? kaz: Called it! chase: No.

-

kaz: I may be stupid. bree: … kaz: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

-

villain: You’re too late, Superdorks! You'll never stop me now! skylar: That’s where you’re wrong, evildoer! We WILL stop you, with the powers of: chase: Friendship! kaz: Harmony! bree: Incredible violence. oliver: And love!

-

chase: out cold on the ground oliver: Oh my god, do you think he's okay?! kaz, holding a bucket of ice water: Who cares?! dumps all of the water on chase’s face

-

skylar: Your smug self-assuredness is revolting. kaz: I think we need to validate self confidence more, lest you end up angry at others for having even a sliver of it. I've done nothing wrong and I have a heart of gold. oliver: I think this message is extremely valid, but also kaz has implied wanting to set off the Yellowstone supervolcano, so what's the truth? kaz: I want to set it off.

-

oliver: We wouldn’t last two minutes without chase. oliver: oliver: Don’t tell him I said that.

-

oliver: Go to sleep or you'll hate yourself in the morning! chase: I'll hate my self in the morning regardless.

-

kaz: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth. oliver: Why? kaz, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.

-

bree: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

-

kaz: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think. skylar: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

-

chase: I owe you one. kaz: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

-

skylar: Two years ago, I married my best friend. skylar: kaz is still mad about it, but me and chase were drunk and thought it was funny.

-

chase: Oh, so you two are getting along very… cordial now? kaz: Cordial? Nah, we're friends. chase: Friends? kaz: Yeah. After you stopped us fighting, we got to talking. Seems like we have some common interests. bree: We both love butterflies. chase: Aww– bree: And beating people up. chase: Oh, okay.

-

chase: Everyone synchronise your watches. skylar: I don't know how to do that. oliver: I don't wear a watch. bree: Time is a construct.

-

kaz: Are you reading fan fiction? oliver, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No. kaz: Oh, is it on AO3? oliver: This is CNN.

-

chase: Pose as a team because SHIT JUST GOT REAL!

-

skylar: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t. chase: skylar, please! skylar: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

-

chase: How do you do that? kaz: I'm fearless. bree: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. kaz: I'm mostly fearless.

-

chase: Come on, skylar. Nobody actually believes that kaz is in love with me. skylar, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that kaz is helplessly in love with chase. Everyone raises their hand chase: kaz, put your hand down.

-

skylar: We need to distract these guys. kaz: Leave it to me. kaz: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. chase & bree: immediately begin arguing

-

kaz: running towards chase with open arms chase: moves out of the way kaz: Hey, why'd you move?! chase: I thought you were going to attack me. kaz: I was going to hug you! chase: Why would you hug me? kaz: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

-

chase: skylar, I think we have a problem. skylar: What, the fire? chase: No, the- wait, what fire? skylar: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

-

chase: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up? oliver: remembers dancing to the ringtone oliver: I didn’t hear it.

-

bree: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? oliver: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. kaz: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. chase: Rock also defeats baby.

-

oliver: If God’s ever been mad at anything I’ve ever said, he hasn’t done shit about it. oliver: So he either doesn’t care or he’s a coward.

-

bree, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? skylar: grabs and chugs the entire bottle skylar: skylar: It's perfume.

-

kaz: I want to kiss you. chase, not paying attention: What? kaz: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

-

oliver: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. bree: bree: I'm gonna tell him. skylar: Don't you dare.

-

oliver: You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds. kaz: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work? oliver: NO-

-

oliver: Not to brag, but I can go into the Spirit Halloween without crying.

-

chase: What do people in relationships even do? skylar: Care about someone with your whole heart and dedicate your life to making them happy. chase: Okay. Didn't ask. kaz: Asks question kaz: "Didn't ask" chase: Thanks for the play by play, Captain Fuck.

-

oliver: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. chase: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. kaz: Wasps? bree: Terriers? oliver: bree.

[ducklooney]

do you think Uncle Scrooge loves (in a romantic way) Brigitta? If you do tell me why/or give proff, because i really like them as a couple.

Sorry for the late reply, but I agree that Scrooge and Brigitta are very much for each other. Well, usually Scrooge avoids Brigitte because he thinks she might steal his fortune, which is not the case, because Brigitta MacBridge only wants love from Scrooge. She does not need wealth as she is a business woman herself. However, Scrooge as a bastard duck always thinks that someone wants to take his money and is a bit unbalanced. Still, there are moments when Scrooge really loves Brigitta. This is shown in particular by the comic "Zio Paperone e la formula della ricchezza" from 1995 by the writer Carlo Panaro and the artist Romano Scarpa. Scrooge and Brigitta go to China in search of treasure, but Scrooge keeps bothering Brigitta and wants to run away from her. Their dynamic between the two of them is very funny and comical. However, it happened that an Asian couple of them arranged that at the end of the treasure hunt it was actually love between Scrooge and Brigitta, and Scrooge was later fascinated by how Brigitta was very good at dealing with money affairs. There is also this article that talks about it: https://www.lospaziobianco.it/panaro-formula-ricchezza/

Yes, translate Italian into English on Google Translate.

You have a comic and "Secret of the Incas" from 1996 by the writer Byron Erickson and artist Giorgio Cavazzano where Scrooge and Brigitta (plus Donald and his nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie) go on a treasure hunt, with Scrooge being greedy and Brigitta not. Eventually the two are together again and Scrooge realizes that Brigitta only wants him and nothing else.

Yes, unfortunately many people don't like Scrooge and Brigitta together since Brigitta supposedly annoys Scrooge all the time in the Italian and other European comics which is not the case. To me, their relationship reminds me of Pepe Le Pew and Penelope Pussycat from Looney Tunes, but you end up with Penelope loving Pepe even though she ran away from him before. So similar with Scrooge and Brigitta but they still love each other in the end. And their comical relationship as well as Brigitta chasing Scrooge reminds me of A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare.

I would also mention the comic book "A Tale of Two Biddies" by writer Giorgio Fontana and artist Marco Mazzarello from 2017, where it is about the conflict between Goldie and Brigitte over Scrooge, until they finally realize that Scrooge is a bastard duck who only thinks about money. But in the end it happened that Goldie admitted that her love with Scrooge was only a love of convenience and past and said that Brigitta deserved Scrooge very much. It says that the love between Scrooge and Brigitte makes sense as well as being the love of the present. By the way, I like both couples (Scrooge and Brigitta and Scrooge and Goldie), but I have to say that I like the relationship between Scrooge and Brigitta more and that they are very comical and partly reminiscent of the quarrel between Donald and Daisy. Although again it depends on how and who thinks for whom. Everyone has the right to their opinion.

And yes, Carl Barks preferred Brigitta to Goldie, even though he didn't invent Brigitta (Romano Scarpa invented her), and thought she would fit well in his comics, so Romano Scarpa even drew Scrooge and Brigitta to Carl as a gift Barks.

It's just an opinion and I recommend that you read those comics if you can and I'm sure you'll like them. And sorry again for waiting for my reply, I've been busy the last few weeks.

And yes, happy Easter!

[bvnga-aprikot]

VERY long overdue, this was wip that was supposed to be a sketch of what i want Athy, Jetty & Kiel’s outfits to look like in my Reincarnated!Jennette au that continuously haunts me for some reason. except i got bored at some point and just now i decided to rush coloring them now for some reason now that i remembered it's existence.

first attempt at my r!jetty au debutante dress my wip from last year

more under the cut :0 it's a bit long so sorry for that

i did this because i ended up feeling dissatisfied with my first attempt at designing a debutante dress for r!jetty since to me i just don't like how i executed things. granted i'm not really serious about my art but the colors looked too muddy lol. aside from that though, i also wanted to finally draw Athy's and Kiel's outfits mention in my other posts since they're obviously integral to this au.

i went more in depth in my first design post, but i decided to stick more true to the neoclassical silhouette that came after the rococo era which heavily influenced Jetty's dresses in both timelines in the manhwa. obviously a huge departure imo bc i think Jetty and her bows are too iconic to be left out of this one and i find it unfortunate that even when redoing my design i still couldn't find a way to incorporate bows lol. besides that, i'm quite happy with how her dress turned out this time.

i didn't point this out in the actual photo but if you're wondering why there are green marks on her neck and hands, long story short it was Viscount Patterson's fault (not to spoil on my own au but they do meet earlier).

Athy's dress is an homage to traditional debutante dresses being white, with the added edge that Athy's dress isn't supposed to stay white and turns into the iconic pink the more she dances. i wanted this to look more elegant and as if she is becoming a blooming flower as the night goes on. though i do wish i did more with the dress since it's supposed to represent how Athy is fully taking her life in her own hands to become Ruler of Obelia and thus, blooming into a new person. i should do a separate sketch for her dress bc it's more complex than what i had intended.

Kiel basically went full-on duke of the north with this one haha. full-disclosure, yes Kiel and Athy do have a thing with each other in this au though i don't intend for them to end up with each other, so i drew his outfit to compliment Athy's which ended up making him look like a Izek clone. however i specifically chose the dark colors because at that point, he and Jennette are still grieving the death of the Duchess due to... very unfortunate circumstances.

for the accessories Ijekiel and Jennette are wearing i'm keeping their connection to Duchess Alpheus, she's like the Lily in this au except she tragically passes away in their late childhood. it's an event that acts as a turning point for their characters and puts a strain on their relationship since she was the only adult in their lives who saw them for who they are outside of being Roger's pawns.

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

HELLO AGAIN EVERYONE my tummy aches but im being brave about it and im going to fight the pain with the power of love and friendship (aka im going to thank you for the christmas tree messages)

okay let me be emotional for a moment...

because of the current circumstances at home, this Christmas was very different and much lonelier for me. i did my best not to get the blues and i think it was okay for the most part! now looking back at it, without a doubt, the highlight of my Christmas this year was reading the tree messages. it was very late in the night, i had just finished reading Napo's story event route and i saved the best part for desert, barely containing my excitement to finally read the messages. and i expected just a row of "merry christmas"-es 😭 you know, because, i did that? i kept mine all short and i was just shouting some wishes at you.... BUT NO, YOU OUTDID YOURSELVES IN TURN! WHAT WAS THAT! i was right there sobbing in my bed being all "?????" .... i seriously didn't expect 1) to have so many because i did the tree very last minute 2) to receive such sweet messages...

and then i realized, was my Christmas really all that lonely? because, just 3-4 years ago, i didn't know any of you here. before that i never was more than a lurker in online spaces so... i think that's when i had truly lonely christmases, not now. thank you for being here. i don't deserve you... no im sorry if you hate it when i say that, pretend that i didnt say it ( i lowkey think that) (im sorry im in my low self esteem era these past months)

OKAY SO

thank you person called Bread, thank you Lorei for being the first sob of my sob session, it's all YOUR fault that i got so emotional oh my god im totally dm-ing you after this, thank you irl bestie who not only left me a sweet personal message but also roleplayed my faves for me because i screamed (you heard it), thank you kat for your three messages that made me feel all kind of emotions (im touched that youre willing to write this even if i feel like im going to hate it), THANK YOU NINNI HUGS BACK!, thank you Ally i know it was you. using roy to threaten me with a good time.... smh... MERRY CRIMMY SCUM!!!!, YAY TO YOU TOO, SOLACE!! Thank you aqua, you're right, he's good to me 🥺 just as chev is to you, i believe! THANK YOU DREW im still thinking about it. Thank you Fang, I could say the same and you know it 🥺, THANK YOU DEVON!! Thank you so much Ana, I too hope the same, I'm glad I became your mutual! 🥹 Same goes to you too, Oliver! I'm just always so happy to see new faces around, truth is im a little bit shy with interactions at first because i feel annoying... so thank you for becoming my moot! 🙇🏻‍♀️💗 Thank you, sweet Julie 🥹 THANK YOY MYARA, I CRIED A LITTLE! right back at ya, i think that you're an irreplaceable part of our little space and im just so glad to be here and see everything you do and share with us! hope your 2024 is full of joy both on here and irl ❤ Thank you mimi, i feel the same and you better not forget that! Thank you Michelle, love you too!!! THANK YOU, NAMI! Thank you, Impromptu!!!!! Thank you Nori!!!!!!!!! And thank you sui you're so right as ever. nods.

i think thats all im so sorry if i forgot anyone ALSO im so sorry for doing this. i tried to keep my responses vague in case you wanted these to be extra private... i initially was going to dm all of you but. that was because i thought there were going to be like 10 of you!!! again im sorry. love you all so much im an emotional wreck

i hope you had a good time these past few days and i hope we can all look forward to a great 2024 together 🥺 i'd be nowhere without you

@lorei-writes @yanderepuck @claviscollections @yarnnerdally @scummy-writes @aquagirl1978 @ikemendrew @fang-and-feather @devonares @bicayaya @olivermorningstar @queengiuliettafirstlady @keithsandwich @mimi-but-main @xbalayage @namine-somebodies-nobody @the12thnightproject @mcwentfandomtraveling @leonscape

[respheal]

What happened to your Discord?

Where do I begin.

Well, first, hi—I recognize your avatar from the Galebound Discord so I'm assuming you're the same person.

I got this message late last night (my very first Ask lol) and I've been mulling over a response since. Really, going into it at length would be Trauma Dumping on Main so I'm not going to go into it at length. Probably. I'm bad at not rambling. (After writing everything below: yeah. Bad at not rambling)

Long story short, the Galebound Discord had become a major anxiety trigger. After attempting to send the finished novel out to 100+ agents and a respected, professional (and very expensive) editor for a chance at traditional publishing, the rejection was a crushing blow.

After that, I completely froze up creatively. The last time I made an illustration of any sort was in 2020, and the last prose was in 2022.

Ever since, any time I got a notification of a new message in the GB discord, I had an anxiety spike. Oh no, anxiety says, people are going to remember this server exists and ask Questions about Galebound and then I'm going to have to confront and explain my Failure.

So, I made the server a read-only archive. I've been grappling with the next steps, like do I keep it open as a not-related-to-galebound server? I did make good friends on the server and, when it was active, the vibes were mostly good. But ultimately I've still not healed from the creative blow, and it's a wound I don't want randomly poked.

Also I've hit the stage of my life where I don't want to be the Adult in the Room (i.e. a server moderator). It didn't happen often, but it definitely did happen, and I'm super over being in charge. I quit being a manager at work for a reason.

Anyway, I have been healing. I went back to my ancient roots and got really, really, really into Legend of Zelda fanfiction again lmao, which is how I got started writing in the first place. With my husband's help, I drew something for the first time in four years (he did the base sketch!). I'm being stupidly self-indulgent and it's great. I don't know if my creative batteries will ever recover enough to dip back out into an original project again, especially with the intention of publishing. But fukkit, I ain't a Magician and I ain't Obligated to try.

Either way, I learned a lot about becoming a better writer and what mistakes I made with GB (honestly, problem #1 was trying to get a 125k word monstrosity into the market as a first time author, at a time when traditional publishing is a little fucked in the first place). The editor recommended the book The Fantasy Fiction Formula by Deborah Chester and parts of it have been really helpful at shoring up my problem areas (particularly the bit on writing sequels to scenes).

Anyway, that's what it is. I'm keeping the server read-only for the foreseeable future. To be clear, I'm not mad at anyone who continued posting on the server after it went quiet—it's not like I told anyone I was getting triggered, so not anyone's fault for tripping into it. It is what it is.

[c-is-for-circinate]

On one hand, there's definitely more of this to be written, and possibly even more of this scene.

On the other hand, posting now means it gets posted at all, and I also happen to think that the place where it ends is very, very funny.

In short: Dustin is a smart kid with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, he knows this about himself, which is also his greatest flaw. Set somewhere between Stranger Things S3 and S4.

---

Dustin shows up at Family Video on a Wednesday night. Steve never works Wednesday nights -- slow enough that Keith can spare him, late enough in the week that most girls are actually wiling to consider it a date night. He's seeing the second Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which Dustin is maybe a little annoyed about because it's only been out for a week and the Party needs Steve to get them into R-rated movies, he knows that. But Steve just said something about horror movies being essential opportunities for girls to cuddle in close so you can protect them, and completely ignored Dustin's totally reasonable comments about how Steve is the one to freak out at jumpscares most of the time when he watches horror movies with them, and went anyway.

Which is so stupid, because there's literally nothing real to protect a girl from in a horror movie. Steve has literally protected Robin from actual Soviet torture, with his actual face. Dustin saw him through that concussion! Dustin knows perfectly well that Steve probably drew the Russians' attention on purpose the whole time he and Robin were in there!

And somehow, he and Robin still aren't dating. If that isn't enough, then Dustin really doesn't see how putting an arm around a girl to save her from Freddy Krueger is going to do any better.

So Dustin bikes his way to Family Video, in the dark because it's November in Indiana, and when he gets there he folds his arms on the counter and gives Robin his brightest, most patient smile. She takes one look at him and rolls her eyes.

"He's not here right now," she informs him. "So if you want to badger him into renting you an R-rated movie, you're going to have to come back tomorrow, I'm not your babysitter and I'm not doing it."

Dustin just keeps grinning at her. Broadly.

"You know, Robin, we never talk," he says. Robin groans.

"Oh god, what now?" she asks. "And get off the counter, Keith's in the back and if he sees you he'll throw a fit."

"Keith is taking a nap back there and we both know it," Dustin scoffs. As if he doesn't know Keith's habits. "He only ever comes out of the back when Steve's working because he likes to make Steve do menial tasks while Keith hits on the hot girls that he thinks come in here because Steve's working."

"Fine, whatever, it's creepy that you know that," Robin sighs. "What do you want?"

"So I've been talking to Steve," Dustin says. "You know, our friend Steve. Pretty face, good hair, excellent reviews on the kissing front."

"Ew," says Robin. "Ew, no, you're twelve, don't talk about Steve kissing. Don't talk about Steve kissing at all!"

"Excuse me, one, I'm fourteen years old, I am in high school, where I just saw you earlier today, so it's not like you're that much older than me," Dustin says. "Two, if we don't talk about kissing Steve, how are we going to get you two over this weird little speedbump you're having where you're somehow not dating yet?"

Robin groans again. It's louder this time, and she also tips her head back to the sky while she does it. Dustin waits patiently.

"I'm not going to date Steve," she says. "Please stop bugging him about this, it's not going to happen. I don't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, can you please just let this goooooo." She groans the last word, drawing it out like Mike when his mom tries to make him clean his room.

"Not until I see you two happy," Dustin says firmly, unmoved thanks to many years of being friends with Mike. "Steve is one of my best friends, and not only are you his other best friend, we've been through the heat of battle together, which means you're my friend too. I want both of you to be happy, and clearly there's nothing you like more than spending time together--"

"Yeah, because we're friends, Dustin, that's what friends do," she says, but Dustin has proof.

"Friends don't have to get jobs working at the same retail store even after their old one burned down," he begins.

"We're good coworkers and otherwise he'd have to break in a whole new set of coworkers who haven't had to deal with Dustin Henderson already for months," she says.

"You work well together, you compliment each other, you already get along with his other friends..."

"Not sure if 'getting along' is the right phrase right now," Robin mutters. Dustin ignores her.

"He's always giving you rides places, he's literally left a date to give you rides on multiple occasions --"

"Like he doesn't do the same for you!"

"Robin," Dustin says pityingly. "Leaving a date? When it's not the end of the world?" It's so obvious how much Steve likes her. Dustin's never seen him act like this with anybody since Nancy. Not that it's exactly the same as Steve used to act with Nancy, but clearly that's just because he's had time to grow and mature, and Robin's better than Nancy for him anyway. She keeps him from stressing out too much. "Driving you to school every morning even though he couldn't even get there on time most days when he was a student himself?"

"I don't have a license!"

"You really don't have to worry about it," Dustin says. "I happen to know for a fact that Steve would date you in an instant if you said yes."

Well. A strongly-supported scientific theory, anyway, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, it should be enough to get Robin spilling whatever self-doubt she's bottling up -- she's too nerdy, Steve only dates slutty cheerleader girls, whatever -- so Dustin can explain to her all the ways she's wrong, and they'll finally be taken care of.

"And I happen to know for a fact that he wouldn't, so how about you take the word of the person he's actually not dating and drop it?" Robin demands. She sounds on the verge of actually upset with him.

"But why?" Dustin demands right back. Which is really the crux of it, isn't it? Dustin has been asking the world why at every turn for fourteen solid years, and he has never let it back down without a fight.

"Steve likes you! You're at least as pretty as all those other girls, and it can't just be that you don't think you're cool enough for him, because lest we forget, the last time he was actually in love instead of just being kind of easy for any girl to look his way twice was with Nancy Wheeler, who is by definition a nerd!" Dustin lays his most damning evidence out rapid-fire, taking down Robin's arguments even if she hasn't made them yet. "He's a hot guy! He's kind of a catch! You're a cool girl! You actually like him back! What is the problem here!"

"Not every guy likes every girl just because they're a girl!" Robin fires back at him. "Not every girl is attracted to every guy! And you know, the fact that you think that is insulting and reductive, when some guys and girls don't even like girls or guys at all, and what would Suzie think, Dustin? What would Suzie think if she heard that you think every guy should date every girl he's friends with just because he's friends with her?"

"First of all, Suzie thinks you and Steve are destined to live happily ever after once he saves you in another bold act of heroism," Dustin informs her. Obviously. "Second of all, what do you mean, some guys don't like girls and girls don't like guys?"

And then Robin gets a look on her face. Dustin might have let it go, if Robin hadn't gotten that look on her face.

It's a split second of sheer panic. Robin ducks away from him, turns back to the Family Video checkout computer like she's trying to be casual, but her hands are anxious, picking up a stack of videos just to put them down, and she's not looking at him, and Dustin saw it. Dustin saw.

"It's just a thing, that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asks. "You can't just assume you know what somebody wants, that just because two people are both attractive they're going to want each other. You don't want to date Max, right?"

"Actually, yeah, I had a crush on Max when we first met, and I reconciled myself to her choice of Lucas in favor of slightly strained friendship until I discovered the love of my life in Suzie," Dustin informed her. "Much like Steve reconciled himself to Nancy's choice of Jonathan, until he met you and suddenly started spending all of his time with you. And anyway that's not what you said, you said that some guys don't like girls at all, which sounds like you're talking about gay people, which doesn't even..." Except that Dustin's thoughts are starting to catch up with his words, and he's trailing off, because. Because holy shit.

Steve dates so many girls. So many! He's constantly hitting on them and striking out, almost like he's just going through the motions, like he's not even trying except for appearances' sake. Even when he goes on actual dates they never last more than once or twice. And he's been doing it like that since high school, exactly like that. He's blown off dates to give Robin rides places. He's blown off dates to give Dustin rides places. He once blew off a date to sit in Mike Wheeler's basement and doze off on the couch while the Party spent three hours building D&D characters for their first-ever Hellfire Club campaign.

And Nancy? Nancy Wheeler, who Steve was totally in love with, except that according to Mike they started having problems basically as soon as the very first demogorgon fight was over and didn't stop for the next full year? Nancy who left him for Jonathan, who Steve is still friends with. Steve and Jonathan are better friends now than they were before he and Nancy broke up. Or at least they were before the Byers left for California, anyway, and that's basically the same thing, Jonathan was probably Steve's best friend actually his own age before he met Robin which was really sad, actually, but--

Steve getting super close with Robin after getting dosed with Russian drugs that were meant to make them tell the truth! Robin and Steve acting like they knew a secret that they couldn't tell anybody else or else!! Robin swearing up and down to the ends of the earth that she knows Steve doesn't want to date her for a mysterious reason she can't and won't explain!!!

"What, no, who said anything about gay people?" Robin is babbling, collecting more and more videos in her hands like a nervous D&D player who thinks hoarding dice is going to save them from a red dragon, but Dustin ignores her. "I just meant that attraction is complicated, and--"

"Holy shit," Dustin breathes. "Holy shit, is Steve Harrington gay?"

Robin drops the tapes.